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milswrites · 2 months

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Hobbies Part 5.

~Azriel X Reader~

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: Lots of fluff. Tiny bit of angst (I can’t even tell at this point). Very vague references to sex. Cliffhanger (Whoopsies)

Five hours later, once Azriel had planned out the date and bathed the sticky multicoloured icing from his skin, he had begun pacing his flat in anticipation of Y/N’s arrival. Shadows swirling around him, sensing their masters spiked anxiety. Should he have offered to pick her up from her own place? Does she even know this is a date? He had asked her to go out but he had never explicitly said the word date.

He was sweating profusely under the black dress shirt he had adorned for the occasion, glad he had one packed. Azriel had been with plenty of women over the years but taking one on a date? This would be the first.

It was only after she had left his flat that he realised he had never even given her a definite time to meet, just a vague promise of seeing her later. Azriel blames Y/N for this lack of communication, planting the kiss on his cheek and leaving him speechless.

So here had been for the last hour, moon now high in the sky, waiting for her to arrive. Having far too much time to overthink about everything that could go wrong. He had to stop himself from anxiously walking over to the mirror in his bathroom for a sixth time to make sure his hair was in place and question whether he should wear other clothes than all black, not wanting to look like death personified next to Y/N’s radiant self. No, he would stick with what he was comfortable with, Y/N wasn’t one to judge. That and Azriel didn’t own anything other than black clothes and he was sure if he ran to the shop now he would miss Y/N.

Finally, a soft knock at his door broke his pacing. His shadows all flew to the door whispering in excitement, waiting for it to be opened so they could be blessed by her presence. Straightening the collar of his shirt, Azriel took in a deep breath. He wasn’t going to let his fluctuating attitudes ruin tonight. He would allow himself to have fun.

He grabbed the handle of the door, looking up to the ceiling and praying to the Mother that tonight would run smoothly, and slowly pulled it open.

~~~~~

If Azriel was the personification of death, Y/N must have been that of life. As she stood there in his entryway, mouth slightly open as her eyes drifted over Azriel’s form, he couldn’t help but think that everything in his life just felt like it now made sense.

He looked from her dress, a soft pink which Azriel thought complimented her oh so beautifully, the entirety of which was patterned with hand embroidered flowers of a deeper shade of pink, and forced his gaze to move to her face where a nervous smile was resting.

“You look…wow” he finally spoke, gulping as he took in the sight of her. A rosy blush that matched her dress crossed her face, “Thank you. You clean up nicely too”. A matching tint formed on his own cheeks.

“So what’s the plan?” She asked curiously, looking up into his eyes which were still trailing the length of her body.

“Uh well I realised I don’t actually know anywhere nice to eat in this Court so I’ve kind of planned something else” Azriel tried to keep it vague, hoping to keep the true plan somewhat of a surprise.

“Sounds perfect! Lead the way!” She grinned, before stepping to the side to allow Azriel and his wings to fit through the doorway. Before he could even step out, his shadows rushed towards Y/N twirling around the skirt of her dress. Fearful that his shadows would scare her, Azriel went to angrily call them back. But he was stopped in his tracks by a melodic laugh slipping from her lips as she began to spin round with them as if they were dancing.

It was at this point Azriel made the decision to not stand there stunned like he usually does in situations where Y/N makes his heart pound and he doesn’t know what to do. Instead, trying to find some semblance of confidence, he reaches out to take Y/N’s hand which was outstretched for balance as she spun. He grabbed it in his own scarred one, and raised them together, allowing her to twirl underneath him, shadows in tow.

Their surroundings forgotten, this little dance continued for a few minutes, smiles on their faces as they were absorbed into the moment. Spinning and moving together fluidly. Wanting to feel her even closer, Azriel reached out his other hand hoping to come into contact with her waist, only to be interrupted by a squeak from the end of the corridor which caused him to draw his hand back.

His head snapped towards the sound, eyes viciously landing on the neighbour who earlier that day had witnessed him standing there in his frilly yellow apron. A low growl came from Azriel’s throat as the neighbour awkwardly rushed forward to pass them in the corridor, Y/N’s hand leaving his to make space for the neighbour to get past with a high pitched “sorry” coming from them as they sped round to the other stairway.

Azriel’s shadows had stopped dancing, electing to disappear during the awkward moment. The moment was gone much to Azriel’s disappointment, the embarrassment of being caught creeping up his spine was testament to that.

Noticing his red ears, Y/N placed a calming hand onto his chest, which of course made them even redder. “Come on! I’m excited to see what you’ve planned!” Of course Y/N wouldn’t be phased after being caught dancing in the corridor.

“Yeah” Azriel sighs, dejected. Annoyed at the lack of control he had over his body prior to being caught, and so when the pair walked out of the building he made sure to leave some space between them, not wanting to do anything else rash that would undoubtedly lead to further embarrassment.

~~~~~

Azriel led the way, walking towards the location of the date. He wanted to talk, but after what had transpired outside the flat he was afraid to and so he had to put up with walking in silence. Y/N clearly wasn’t bothered as she hummed happily, either having not noticed the arm length of space between them or choosing not to comment on it.

Azriel was kicking himself, he was on a date with a beautiful woman and he couldn’t bring himself to find the words to speak. He wished he had his brothers with him. Cassian would have prepared him for the date, he would have made sure his friend was filled with confidence and prepped lots of things for Azriel to talk about. Rhysand would have fussed over his clothing and given him tips on how to flirt, how to complement a woman and make her blush until her knees wobble.

Yet his family had abandoned him here. But now weeks later after the fact, Azriel couldn’t help but feel grateful for the events that had transpired otherwise he would have never met Y/N.

Y/N who was walking next to him, eyes full of love and admiration as if she was taking in the moonlit surroundings for the first time even though she undoubtably walked these streets daily as she headed to and from work.

On and on they walked, Y/N’s humming being the one thing that kept Azriel earthed, preventing him from freaking out and flying off in fear that he couldn’t do this right. Fear that he didn’t know how to act on a date. Until finally they approached the garden Azriel had found during one of his nightly flights around the city.

Azriel had originally landed in this hidden piece of paradise because he was searching for a little trace of Elain, a reminder of what he was missing out on from being away from home. Only once he had entered the gates to be greeted by garishly bright sunflowers his thoughts were only on Y/N.

He had spent hours walking around the garden on the first night he had discovered it, appreciating the hundreds of plants and flowers that grew inside of the gates. It was only after his third visit here during his nightly outings that he pictured Y/N here with him, walking along the trailing path, smiling up at him as she smelt the flowers, admiring their beauty as he admired her. It only made sense to Azriel that he had to bring her here. See if Y/N reacted to it in the same way she did in his dreams.

Her reaction did not disappoint. Azriel held open the gate for her, allowing Y/N to enter with a gasp upon her lips.

“Oh Azriel it’s beautiful! However did you find this?” Y/N was whispering, her awe at where she was overwhelming. Azriel silently watched on as tears filled her eyes, trying to cement this moment into his mind forever. Y/N in her pretty pink dress, standing in the garden.

It was only after he was certain the picture of Y/N, surrounded by flowers as beautiful as she was, was permanently fixed into his brain did Azriel then allow himself to talk. “There’s more” Azriel too spoke in a quiet whisper, afraid of interrupting the perfect moment that was occurring.

Y/N’s eyes which were filled with an emotion Azriel couldn’t place, looked to his expectantly. Gently, Azriel placed his scarred hand onto her back and led her through the garden, allowing her to stop whenever she wanted to appreciate a flower she found particularly beautiful. Until finally the plants broke away, revealing a clearing in the middle of the garden where Azriel had set up a blanket, jars of faelight holding it down and twinkling under the light of the moon. A wicker basket was placed on top, filled with goods he had bought from the market earlier in the day.

“Oh Azriel!” Y/N cried out, taking a step towards the picnic. His hand moved from the small of her back, tentatively grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the blanket to sit down.

“I know it’s not fancy, I should have probably taken you for a meal out. And don’t worry I didn’t do any of the baking, wouldn’t want to poison you again.”

Y/N didn’t even laugh at Azriel’s joke, she just threw herself over the basket on the ground and latched her arms around his neck, pulling him in tightly for a hug. It took three deep breaths before Azriel responded, wrapping one arm around Y/N’s body which was pressed against his, whilst using the other hand to brush the hair that had fallen from behind her ear back.

She pulled away, wincing in pain from the basket that had been digging into her stomach. “It couldn’t be more perfect Az” she smiled, resting her hand over his.

The two ate the food Azriel had bought, making light conversation about the garden they were sitting in and the food they were consuming. Until finally, stomachs full, they both laid back onto the blanket in order to gaze at the stars shining above them.

“What’s it like? In the night Court I mean” Y/N shyly asked, as if afraid of talking about the spymasters home might set him off.

Azriel felt no spike of anger as she mentioned his home court. In fact he didn’t even feel the painful longing he usually did at the thought of it, wanting to be nowhere else but in the present with Y/N.

“It depends where you are. The Illyrian camps are no paradise. But there’s some places…a city that is so magnificent it still takes my breath away every time I see it. That’s where I live. Sometimes I spend hours flying above it and no matter how many times I do I always see something new.” Azriel said whilst closing his eyes, allowing himself to picture it.

“Ah Velaris, the secret city,” Y/N teased, causing Azriel’s eyes to snap open as he sat up and looked at her in shock, “Helion’s a talker” she shrugged as if it was common knowledge.

Azriel laughed and settled back down, head resting onto his hands behind his head, gaze once more returning to the stars. “I’ll take you one day” he confirmed, wanting nothing more than to share his home with Y/N.

He didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling as she replied, “I’d like that.”

“Maybe you could make a dress just for the Night Court” Azriel mused, imagining what Y/N would look like in all black before deciding he wasn’t sure if he would want to see her with her colour taken away.

“I’d make you a matching tunic so we could wear them together, only I’m not too sure how to make clothes for Illyrains.” Y/N brushed his wing lightly with a finger as she said this, causing Azriel to stiffen as they twitched responsively.

Obviously he didn’t expect Y/N to know about the sensitivity of an Illyrians wings so he did his best to calm himself, nervously stuttering, “yeah the wings are really something.”

“It must be the best feeling ever, flying.” She said wistfully, staring at the night sky as if imagining she was up there. “I can think of some better feelings…but yeah it’s definitely up there” Azriel spoke, turning his head to admire Y/N. The moonlight making her skin shimmer.

“If I were born with wings I’d travel the whole world. I would see everything Prythian has to offer.”

Azriel wanted to burst her bubble, tell her most of Prythian wasn’t even worth visiting. Yet he held his tongue, not wanting to dampen her dreams. Instead he encouraged them, “where would you fly to first?”

“To Velaris,” she said, finally turning her head to meet his eyes, “I’d have to pick you up first before we go.” Her hand creeped over to Azriel’s which was laying on the blanket before entwining their fingers. “I have a big wingspan, what makes you think you’d be able to keep up?” Azriel warned, smirk on his face. “I think you’d wait for me” Y/N said knowingly, matching smirk on hers. “I’d wait forever for you if I had to” Azriel squeezed her hand as he said this.

“Just you and me and the whole world to explore. Sounds like a good dream.” Y/N smiled sadly, no doubt referring to the fact she didn’t have wings like Azriel’s and reminding him their planning was all based on fiction.

Adamant he didn’t want to see her sad, Azriel shot up onto his feet, hand held out to Y/N to pull her up, “Come on!” He ordered.

Y/N sat up on the blanket, eyebrows creased in confusion, “What?”

“Come on!” He pressed, pushing his outstretched arm even closer to her impatiently, “We’re going flying.”

Y/N released a sound of disbelief, grabbing onto his hand and jumping up from the ground excitedly, “Brilliant! So how do we do this?” She asked, referring to how she would be carried.

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly, “uh well it would probably be easier if I just…” and with that he grabbed her and swept her into his arms, one going behind her back for support and the other holding up her legs.

Giggling in anticipation for the flight, Y/N once more ran her fingers down Azriel’s wings in admiration as he spread them wide and shook them ready for flight. He flinched abruptly, almost dropping her in shock before he stuttered, “It’s probably best you stop touching them or I don’t think we’ll ever get round to flying.”

This time instead of just her cheeks flaring red, her entire face flushed, clearly now understanding the implications of touching an Illyrians wings. Finding himself liking her response, Azriel bravely sent her a wink before shooting into the sky. Y/N’s arms flying around his neck and face pressing into his shoulder with a squeal at the speed he had launched from.

Azriel steadied out once high enough in the air, but Y/N still kept her face tucked into his neck in fear. “You can look now” he teased, urging her to lift her head but all he felt was the firm shaking of it against his shoulder so he continued, “We can’t go flying the world together if you won’t look at it? You won’t see much like this.”

That got her attention, Y/N’s head raising, but her eyes didn’t take in the view. Instead they found their home on Azriel’s face. “But I don’t have wings” she pouted up at him.

“But I do” he said with a laugh, batting his wings a little harder so they blew her hair into her face playfully.

“You mean it?” She asked in disbelief that he’d be willing to carry her just so she could see the world.

“Only if you take a look” he whispered into her ear, daring her to break eye contact and take in the view. And so she did and Azriel couldn’t have been more in love than he was in that moment.

Y/N beamed as she looked down on the city. “Look you can see the palace!” She pointed out the large building that towered over the rest of the city, “and my house! This is amazing!”

Azriel didn’t move his gaze to take in any of the sites, instead it stayed locked on Y/N as he replied, “yeah it is.”

“I’m going to want you to fly my everywhere!” She cheered excitedly.

“Wherever you need” Azriel replied, taking his focus off of where he was flying so he could rest his head against hers while she sat happily in his arms, “I would never put you down if you asked me not to.”

Azriel could see the struggle it took for Y/N to pull her eyes from the stunning sight of the twinkling city at night but she managed to, turning to Azriel and shifting slightly in his arms to face him better.

“And if I asked you to hold me forever?”

“Then nothing, no one, would stop me from holding you until the day the Mother takes me.”

Y/N released a small strangled cry at Azriel’s words before she leaned forward in his arms to softly place her lips onto his. Responsive, Azriel meets her halfway, their lips moving together in a passionate dance. Y/N went to deepen the kiss, drawing her tongue languidly against Azriel’s lower lip and in his surprise at her need to take control he completely forgot the two were in the air, relying on the beat of his wings to keep them afloat.

And so they fell.

Y/N releasing a scream as their lips tore apart and Azriel struggled to regain his grip on her flailing body as he turned his attention back to flying. Once she was secure in his arms one more he spread his wings out wide to level out, stopping their freefall.

Y/N panting slightly as her adrenaline at being dropped slowly evaporated, bravely placed her lips near Azriel’s until they brushed before pulling away as he eagerly tried to meet them once more. She shakily spoke against them “I think we’re going to need a rule about kissing while flying.”

Barking out a laugh, Azriel agreed before asking her which direction her home was in. He held her even tighter as he flew in the direction Y/N had pointed in, not wanting to permanently scar her so she never wanted to fly with him again.

He landed as gentle as he could, pulling her closer against him to make her feel safer as he did so, before he carefully placed her back onto the ground, a large hand around her back to ensure she didn’t stumble as she regained her footing.

“I think it’s safe to say this has been the best birthday I’ve ever had.” She grinned up at him, her hand finding his once more.

Azriel opened his mouth to reply but was interjected by one of his shadows moving up to frantically whisper in his ear, causing a frown to adorn his face. In her euphoria Y/N failed to notice this, instead she led him by their interlocked hands towards her front door.

“Would you like to come in?” She asked, dropping his hand to unlock the door. He cursed under his breath at the untimely appearance of his shadow. “I’d love to really but I’m sorry, I best go home. It’s getting late after all” he had to force the words out, throat closing tightly to try and stop him from saying them.

Y/N’s smile stayed on her face, Azriel knew if she was disappointed she wouldn’t let it show.

“That’s alright”, she said perhaps a bit too overly happy, “you’re right it’s late. Besides, I have something fun planned for us tomorrow, I should get that ready.” Azriel released the breath he didn’t know he was holding at the fact she wanted to meet him tomorrow, Y/N mustn’t be too hurt.

“Oh yeah”, he smiled back at her, batting away the shadow that was still whispering in his ear, “what fun things have you got planned?”

“That’s for you to discover tomorrow” she chided before her lips came to meet his once more. Azriel kissed her back, deeply breathing in her vanilla scent and gripping her waist tightly to avoid his hands wandering elsewhere. His shadow, annoyingly still chittering away into his ear, causing him to reluctantly pull back from the kiss.

“Tomorrow” he huffed, disappointed he had to leave and couldn’t come inside as he wished.

“Tomorrow” she confirmed before retreating into her house for the night.

~~~~~

Azriel was growling the whole flight home. His perfect night had been interrupted, he tried to brush away the thoughts of what could have happened if he had entered the house with Y/N. Best not to dwell on what he couldn’t have. He had tomorrow to make up for that.

Roughly landing outside his flat he stormed through the buildings corridor, where he had danced with Y/N, to his door, flinging it open in anger and stepping inside.

His shadows alerting him to the presence in the corner of the room.

“Hello brother,” Rhysand purred, “ready to go home?”

Part 6

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

Taglist: (oh my there’s so many of you now! Thank you guys for all your continued support xx)

@minnieoo @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

(If I’ve missed any of you off I’m so sorry please let me know)

#acotar #fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel oneshot #azriel #azriel shadowsinger

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draclula · 6 months

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Scara brain-rot

tw: smut, afab reader, mentioning of edging, streamer!scara, vibrator, semi-public (?) orgasm, finger riding, oral sex (reserving), clit stimulation, slightly degradation, mentioning of punishment

Scara has been hearing your whines and moan from the bedroom for a good hour or so. You were chasing your orgasm, pumping your middle and ring finger inside of your slick- and fuck, you just couldn’t reach it. Your wrist was tired, you couldn’t find the right position and your fingers cannot reach your sweet spot because they were too short. You have given up on rubbing your clit, you couldn’t focus on both of the actions. Scara couldn’t help you at the moment, he had assigned stream for tonight and it just so happened that the very same night you were feeling horny. Even his headset wasn’t enough to block the sounds you were making. Scara was worried people from his stream were going to hear you, and some even commented on some faint noises. His mind was at a completely different place, he kept dying again and again. People also noticed that and started teasing him in his chat.

He lost it when he heard you sob, right after he lost another round. He muted his microphone and threw his headset on the desk, getting up and going to the bedroom where those goddamn noise were coming from. You jerked up in surprise when he slammed the door open. Scara stared at you: riding you fingers on the bed, wearing his purple hoodie and knee high stockings. The rage in his eyes made the room still. Not daring to ask him what was wrong, you just stared at him- cheeks stained with tears of frustration. He stepped in the room, grabbing your wrist and ripping your fingers out off your dripping cunt.

“You are very annoying, you know?” he spoke harshly, pushing you to lay on your back. He licked his pointer and middle finger, sliding them with ease inside of you “Scara-!” you yelp in surprise of his sudden action.

“Shut up, whore.”

His fingers started to slide and curl inside of you. He then lowered his head and started sucking on your clit- he didn’t have time to wait for you to finish. You couldn’t hold it together, your left hand flew to his hair and started to push him more as you tried to move your hips. Your right palm was covering your lips, trying to keep silent as he instructed you. Scara’s long and slightly slender fingers were brushing on your sweet spot. Choked moans were threatening to escape your mouth, hot tears rolling down and disappearing in your hairs. Such a pathetic sight. His fingers were already knuckles deep inside of you, your juices were dripping down and staining the sheets, a big wet spot was forming from his saliva and your slick.

Your legs were slowly wrapping around his head, making it difficult for him to move. His free hand slammed one of your tights to lay flat on the bed, you daren’t bring it back up. Your palm started to ball his hair in your fist. As he looked up he was met with your fucked out expression and rambling behind your palm. It signalled Scara you were close to your release. The hand he slammed your tight to lay was now on your lower stomach. That was what sent you over. Your body trembled and winced when you finally came. It felt so sweet, to finally feel the tension break, to finally feel relieved. He fucked you thru your orgasm till you calmed down a little. When he finally broke away from your twitching core, Scara made his way to his nightstand and opened it wide with force, rummaging around he finally took out a medium sized box. Your tired eyes followed his every move as he opened it and it revealed a bullet-sized vibrator. He made his way back to you and slowly pushed it up your greedy hole, despite your poor protests. He took the remote and turned it up to ‘level 2’. The toy’s sudden buzz made you jump in surprise. Your sensitivity haven’t worn of just yet.

When you reached down to remove the toy, so you avoid being overwhelmed, he sternly stated

“If you remove the vibrator I am going to edge you till you feel numb and still deny your orgasm.”

It was enough for you to stop your action and grab onto a pillow for support. He had his arms crossed, looking at your hopeless form. After a few seconds he turned to leave the room, standing at the exit he suddenly stopped. “I will be controlling the vibrator while I am on my stream. Do not make any noise under any circumstances. Else, there will be a punishment.” and with that he closed the door with a slight slam.

He returned to his stream, now with a can of soda, placing it on his desk and then he sat on his game chair with force. Scara quickly slipped on his headset once again and unmuted his mic.

“Alright, let’s try againy.”

#fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche #genshin scara #scara x reader #genshin scaramouche #Streamer Scara #smut #scara smut #scaramouche x you #scara x you #scaramouch x reader #Streamer!scara x reader #genshin smut #scara x y/n

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 2 months

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Out of The Woods

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: You're back in Hawkins, and the memories keep on coming.

chapter warnings: mentions of grief, parental loss, motherhood, swearing, brief description of injury (bloody nose)

a/n: chapter one! the ball is officially rolling! I'm so excited for you all to read and get to know these characters. Enjoy!

chapter one: I've Got Sunshine || series masterlist

Muscle memory is a funny thing.

The faded wheel of your ‘88 Ford Escort was being gripped so hard that your knuckles ached. You recalled shortcuts and one-ways with ease, moved through neighborhoods and back roads you hadn’t been down in nearly decade--seven years to be exact. They say home is where your heart is; if that was the case, Hawkins stopped being home a long time ago.

Still, part of you supposed it was normal.

Normal to remember this place so vividly, you could draw its map with your eyes closed. Normal to recall the smells and sounds and the stoplight that hasn’t worked properly since ‘79.

Normal to see the Plant, and Melvald’s—Joyce Byers’ car parked dutifully out front. You remembered everything, despite having tried to forget.

You never thought you'd be back here. After you got your diploma, after all the hell you'd been through--after what happened, you’d gone East. A scholarship earned you a full ride to Yale University.

Then life happened.

Maggie happened.

Once school was no longer an option, you looked for work. Doing job after job, sometimes three at a time to make the rent and keep food on the table for her.

As much as you tried to deny it, everything seemed like a sign from above that this place wasn’t meant to be. Rent went up, you’d been let go from your waitressing job, and then your car started to shit the bed.

Hey, when it rains it pours, am I right?

Then came the call that brought you back here to Hawkins in the first place.

Your Dad died.

Not that you’d ever been particularly close, especially not after your Mom died. You were just 14 at the time and it was hard. That's the age every girl needs her Mom, and without yours, you were left to navigate grief, high school, and becoming a good person all on your own.

Your Father was...an unfortunate side effect of her passing. Consumed by his own grief, you assumed. It turned into him not being able to stomach being around you. The fighting was constant, you could never do anything right in his eyes, and he could never replace your Mom in yours. You’d practically lived everywhere but home your entire high school career, and he was either working at the Plant, or too drunk to care.

That’s why when a lawyer called you up and told you you’d been left his house, you damn near fainted.

"You're sure you have the right person?" You asked, stretching the cord around your finger nervously.

The man repeated your name, date of birth, and 'relationship to the deceased'.

"The home has been paid off since, lemme see here," You heard the flip of a paper, "'Ah, '78. Taxes and such can be put into your name when you begin occupying the residence, but we do need a decision by--"

"I'll take it!" The words flew out of your mouth before your brain could stop you.

This was a sign, the last sign you needed. You took $300 out of your savings to fix your car, packed up everything that mattered, and the two of you started the 12 our road-trip home.

Now you were just two right turns away.

“Hey, Sunshine. You awake back there?” You ask, a smile in your tone.

Maggie stretched, adjusting the blanket on her lap. “I’m up, Mama.” She's smiling, clearly just beginning to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “Where are we?”

The question left your daughter’s mouth just as you turned into the driveway.

Slowly, you find the strength to put the car in park. Deep breaths, right? That's what you tell Mags to do when she's scared. So you take your own advice, and do one big deep breath. “Our new home.”

Maggie’s gasp startled you. “We get a whole house?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes, baby girl. A whole house, and guess what else?”

She clutched her worn, stuffed teddy bear tightly to her chest and watched you with bated breath.

“You get your own room!”

Your six-year-old squealed with delight, kicking her feet into the seat in front of her. “Mama I’m so excited! Can we go in? Please! Please!” She begged happily.

With shaking hands, you snatched the key from the ignition. “Absolutely.”

Maggie’s feet were taking her faster than the rest of her could follow. As she waited on the stoop of the familiar blue house, you bent down and lifted the 5th rock from the left that lined the path. The key was there, just as it always had been, though now it was aged with rust. You’d hidden it there after being unable to wake your Dad from his drunken stupor on more than one occasion.

The house—your house, was nothing grand, but the look on your daughter's face said otherwise.

“Mama, we get this whole place?”

You tussled her hair as she moved to wander the living room. “Sure do, baby girl.

The two of you had lived in a one bedroom for her entire life. In the six years since you'd had her, she’d never really had a space to call her own, and even though you’d given Maggie all you had, it killed you not to be able to give her what she deserved.

“So, I was thinking…Maggie?”

You walked the familiar hallway to find her in your old bedroom; it looked exactly like it did the day you left.

“Mama! Is this you?” She ran at you, holding an old Polaroid.

With tender hands, you grabbed it from her. “It sure is, Mags.”

Her smile grew as she spoke, “So pretty, Mama. Who’s the peoples with you?”

The grin on your face matched hers, “This right here? This is Robin, she’s the one who sends me all of those funny birthday cards.”

Robin didn’t know you were back, and you’re not exactly sure how to say, “Hey remember me? Your friend who disappeared? Well, I’m back for good and so is my daughter that you’ve never met.”

“Oh, who’s this boy?”

You chuckled, “That’s Steve. He’s a real cheese-ball, but you’d love him. I hope you get to meet him some day"

Maggie's giggles filled the room, and you could feel your cheeks aching from the size of your smile.

She deserves the world. I'm gonna make sure she gets it.

"Mama?"

You sit on the edge of your old desk, "Hm?"

"Who's this guy with the long hair?"

Your heart sank. Collapsing in on itself, and descending into your stomach. "That's uh, his...his name is Eddie."

Saying his name--speaking him into reality made you sick. It made your bones ache and your muscles twist with rage and grief.

Just then, your beautiful daughter, blissfully unaware and innocent, asks a follow up question.

"Is he your friend too, Mama?"

The lump in your throat was hard to swallow, but you do it for her. "He used to be." It's all you can manage.

She holds the photo in her little hand, analyzing the image with all of the brainpower her six year old mind could muster.

"His eyes kinda look like my eyes!"

7 little words, spoken in the sweetest, happiest tone, break you.

"They kinda do, don't they?" You ask, turning around to pretend to organize whatever random clutter you could find.

Maggie places the photo on the desk, and moved on to the next room.

"Wow, Mama! A bathtub! i can take bubble baths!" She echos off the tiles walls, and you crumble. Falling to you knees and silencing your sobs with you palm.

How are you gonna do this? How are you going to live here and avoid him? What will happen in he sees you? See's her?

Maggie is all that matters in this. Hawkins is big enough, right? Surely, you can avoid all of the old haunts you remember Eddie going too. Avoid the Hideout and Lover's Lake, and certainly avoid the Forest Hill's trailer park.

God, that place was your sanctuary for so long--both you and Eddie.

After every party, every fight with your Dad, you'd find comfort at the Munson home. Wayne demanding you stay as long as you wanted, and assuring you that this place is as much yours as it is Eddie's.

The trailer was where you cleaned Eddie up after every run in with Jason and the other douchebags at Hawkins High.

NOVEMBER 15th, 1985

Your fingertips turned crimson as you held the damp towel to Eddie’s nose. He winced the moment it made contact with the newly bruised flesh.

“Fucking…fuck.” Eddie barely managed to get it out.

You recoiled, but he protested. “Nope…no. Just, just get it over with.”

Slowly and as carefully as you could, you dabbed the blood from the already purple skin. “Jesus, Eds. You bruise like a peach.” It’s a small offer of a joke, a way to ease his pain and your guilt.

A hiss as you touch a particularly sensitive part on the bridge of his nose. “Sorry.” You’re the one wincing now.

“Still look tough though, right? Even if I got my ass kicked?” He smiled gently, a self-deprecating pull at the corner of his mouth.

The trailer was cold, it was just turning fall in Hawkins, and Wayne didn’t use the heat unless it was below freezing. A chill ran down your spine as your stomach flipped.

“You got a couple of good licks in, I just wish you didn’t—“

He cuts you off immediately. “It’s never a question, and you know that.”

A shaking sigh passes your lips as you turn your back to him. The warm water running from the sink rinses the blood out of the washcloth, and as swirls of red spin down the drain, you're fighting back tears. “Jason’s a prick who gets his rocks off watching people squirm. He knows I’m repulsed by him. He’s not worth it, Eddie.”

You hated seeing him like this because of you. Jason was being foul and vulgar and his typical jock-with-one-brain-cell self when he’d cornered you in the cafeteria.

Fortunately for you, he didn’t see Eddie walk in behind him.

Jason was describing exactly how he’d 'make you moan'—barf—when Eddie spun him around and decked him.

He was able to get three or four shots on him before the rest of Jason's caveman friends ganged up on Eddie, only stopping when Principal Higgins stepped in.

“He’s not, but you are. I don’t know how many times we gotta go over this, Bug. I’ll never let anyone hurt you--ever. Who cares if I get a little banged up in the process?”

Bug.

The nickname he's called you for the past 4 years. A way he shows you that it really is just you and him against the world.

"I care. You're all I've got Eddie Munson." You say it dramatically, in hope the seriousness of the moment wouldn't make things weird. Eddie's warm hand finds your cheek, the pad of his thumb swept over the soft skin.

"Forever, kid. You and me."

The memory made you shiver.

Get it together. You chastise yourself.

"Hey Mags?" You call, scrubbing the emotion from your face onto your palms.

She bounds down the hall, still in awe at the space. "Yeah, Mom? Did you know my room has a closet? I can fit all my toys inside!"

Your arms reach for her, and she jumps into your embrace instantly. After squeezing her, you pull back to take in the little person you'd made.

God, she really does look so much like him.

She's got your nose, and cheeks for sure. But those eyes? The smile? That's Eddie, through and through.

"You know I love you, right?" You kiss her forehead.

Maggie pushed your cheeks together, smushing you face in her palms. "I know, Mama. 'Nember what you always say?"

"What's that, Mags?" You ask, brushing the hair from her eyes.

"You and me, kid. Forever and ever."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #OoTW #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 7 months

Text

The Pumpkin Patch.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here, huns!

authors note - in honour of finally approaching october, enjoy this little mess that my brain magically comes up with when i’m bored…and lhh as a dad because that is simply girl dinner.

word count - 2k

in which, you and harry decide to take your son teddy to the pumpkin patch in honour of it finally hitting october, the three of you decide to make a day of things, and let’s just say the day doesn’t exactly turn out how you all expected it, a series of unfortunate events occur and that all starts out with your fiancé getting annoyed that the sat nav isn’t helping him very much.

trope: fiancé!harry x reader

October holds a special place in your heart, like no other month ever could. It was the month when you first embarked on a life-changing journey, leaving your homeland to pursue higher education in the United States. It was a time of excitement and trepidation, but little did you know that it would mark the beginning of countless beautiful memories.

During those university years, October became a symbol of friendship and camaraderie. It was when you met your lifelong friends, people who would stand by your side through thick and thin. Together, you navigated the challenges of academia, celebrated achievements, and forged bonds that would last a lifetime.

One particular October stands out vividly in your memory. It was the month of your graduation, a momentous occasion that your family didn't want to miss. They flew out to share in your joy and celebrate your accomplishments. Their presence made the milestone even more meaningful, filling your heart with warmth and love.

But the most extraordinary chapter of your life was written in the pages of an October. It was in Los Angeles, while browsing through a record shop, that you first laid eyes on Harry Styles. The connection was instant, as if fate had brought you together. In the midst of music and conversation, your love story began to unfold.

It was in October when he first whispered those three magical words, "I love you," after a night of watching a scary movie that left you clinging to his chest, finding comfort in his embrace. That moment of vulnerability deepened your bond and solidified your love for each other.

During a serene picnic in the park, surrounded by the beauty of autumn, Harry surprised you with a question that would change your lives forever. He asked you to move in with him, a gesture that symbolized commitment and a future together.

The circle of life continued to expand in October when your son, Theodore, affectionately known as Teddy, was born. The joy of parenthood brought immeasurable happiness and completeness to your lives, and the autumn leaves seemed to dance in celebration.

And then, in an enchanting October evening, Harry knelt down on one knee and proposed to you. Under the starry sky, he presented you with a ring, promising a lifetime of love, happiness, and adventures together. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you said yes, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

October, with its vibrant colors and meaningful milestones, had become more than just a month on the calendar; it was a testament to the beauty of life, love, and the incredible journey you had embarked upon. It was safe to say that October had etched its place as your favorite month, forever holding the key to cherished memories and boundless love.

As you, Harry, and your almost two-year-old son Teddy set out for the pumpkin patch in Harry's sleek black Range Rover, there was an air of excitement in the car. The vibrant colours of autumn and the promise of pumpkin picking had everyone in high spirits. However, it didn't take long for things to take an unexpected turn.

Teddy, safely strapped into his car seat, began to cry, his little arms reaching out for his father. Seeing as Harry had been up all night comforting his baby boy who appeared to be getting his molars growing, he had tried everything, and the only thing that seemed to help the poor boy was to be cuddled up with both parents in their bed, with a teething toy in his grasp.

So, when the two of you woke up this morning, you had decided to take everyone’s tired minds off of things and have a fun little day out, but that didn’t seem to be going the way you had originally planned.

Harry couldn't easily comfort him, as he was engrossed in a battle with the aggravating sat nav system that seemed determined to make the journey anything but smooth.

You turned round in your seat and leaned over to Teddy, offering him a soothing voice, "Hey, ted. Daddy's driving right now, but he'll be with you soon. Look out the window, see the pretty leaves?"

Harry, growing increasingly frustrated, muttered, "S’thing is driving m’nuts. S’like a maze."

Teddy's cries persisted, and you rummaged in the bag for a toy to distract him. "Teddy, how about this colourful toy? Can you play with it?"

Harry let out another exasperated sigh, his eyes fixed on the sat nav screen. "All I want is t’find that pumpkin patch."

The journey went on like that for about another ten minutes before Harry finally got the hang of where the sat nav was trying to take him, and Theodore succumbed to silent sniffles when your fiancé reached his hand back and let his son hold onto his finger like he was a newborn all over again.

Theodore Styles was born just a year into the two of you officially dating, on October 18th, 2013. You and Harry were only nineteen. Although both of you were only young, you both had support from your family and friends and even though Harry’s job was a very demanding one, he always made sure to put the two of you first, so fast forward to October 2016 you were the perfect family unit and you were one step closer to becoming a Styles just like your other two boys.

As you, Harry, and Teddy finally pulled into the sprawling pumpkin patch, a sense of excitement filled the air. The fields were covered in a sea of vibrant orange, and the prospect of a fun-filled day lay ahead.

Driving through the muddy terrain, Teddy was securely strapped into his car seat, but his little face was pressed against the window. His bright eyes were wide with curiosity, and he couldn't contain his delight as he pointed at everything in his limited vocabulary, his baby talk filling the car.

"Look, Teddy," you exclaimed with enthusiasm, "those pumpkins are huge, aren't they?"

Teddy responded with bursts of infectious laughter, his tiny finger continuing to point at the pumpkins, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His joy was like a contagious wave that washed over the car.

Harry, his long hair falling in front of his eyes, expertly navigated the muddy path. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh, occasionally glancing at Teddy's adorable antics.

"That's right, Teddy-Bear," Harry chimed in, his voice filled with affection, "those pumpkins are as big as y’are!"

The car rolled on, winding through the pumpkin-filled fields. Teddy's laughter and baby talk were a constant source of amusement, brightening the atmosphere in the car.

You couldn't help but join in the excitement. "Teddy, do you see those scarecrows over there? They're guarding the pumpkins!"

Teddy's laughter escalated as he looked at the scarecrows, his tiny hands reaching out toward them. His innocent joy made the entire journey worthwhile.

Harry put the car into park and turned to you. "Alrigh’ m’love,"

As you worked on getting Teddy out of his car seat, Harry made his way to the trunk. He looked at you, holding the baby bag, and asked, "Do y’think we'll need t’stroller?"

You considered for a moment, remembering that Teddy hadn't slept well during the night. You nodded, knowing that he might get tired later. "Yeah, H, I think it's a good idea. Just in case."

Harry nodded in agreement and began setting up the stroller while you gently unstrapped Teddy from his car seat. He wriggled out of your arms, his little welly boots and beanie adding to his adorable appearance.

With Teddy on the ground, you smiled down at him. "Look at you, ready for some pumpkin picking, little man!"

Harry, now with his hair tied into a man bun to keep it out of his face, locked up the car. He glanced at Teddy and then at you. "Alrigh’, s’make some pumpkin memories."

As the three of you approached the entrance to the patch, The stroller stood empty as Harry navigated it through the muddy pumpkin fields.

Teddy, in his infectious excitement, was far too eager to explore on his own. Instead, you held onto his tiny hands, and he practically pulled you along, his chubby legs wading through the mud, creating tiny boot imprints with each step.

The pumpkin patch sprawled before you, a vast sea of orange and green. Teddy's eyes danced with wonder as he darted from one pumpkin to another, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His little voice bubbled with delight, even though his words were a jumble of baby talk and giggles.

Harry manoeuvred the stroller skillfully, occasionally glancing over to check on Teddy's progress. Teddy's tiny boots splashed through puddles, his beanie bobbing atop his head as he explored this pumpkin wonderland.

You marvelled at the sheer joy radiating from your son. Holding his hands, you let him lead the way, following his excited tugs and twirls. The mud-splattered boots and the occasional stumble didn't dampen Teddy's enthusiasm in the slightest.

About fifteen minutes into your visit to the pumpkin patch, you found yourselves standing in front of a scarecrow, admiring its rustic charm. Teddy, so far, had been on a mission to pick up every pumpkin he walked by, not quite grasping the concept of a pumpkin patch and getting upset when you told him that you needed to find the perfect pumpkin before heading home.

As you were enjoying this quaint moment, a friendly woman from another family who was passing by noticed your trio. She offered with a warm smile, "Would you like a photo of the three of you by the scarecrow?"

Harry didn't hesitate for a moment. He beamed and said,

"Yes, please!" as he quickly handed the woman his phone, which was already open on the camera. He gently scooped Teddy into his arms, holding him on his hip, and then wrapped his free arm around your shoulder.

The woman skillfully captured the moment, ensuring you were all framed by the scarecrow and the vibrant pumpkin patch behind you. Teddy, still clutching a small pumpkin in his chubby hand, looked at the camera with curiosity, and his innocent smile added an extra layer of charm to the photo.

After the picture was taken, you thanked the kind stranger, and Harry, still holding Teddy, shared a grateful smile with her.

Ten minutes after Teddy's encounter with the scarecrow, the pumpkin patch adventure continued, with Teddy now running ahead of you and Harry. His tiny legs carried him with an uncontainable exuberance as he darted between pumpkins, each one a new discovery in his eyes.

You pushed the stroller, its wheels rolling through the earthy paths, while Harry walked beside you, holding your hand. Both of you watched Teddy with hearts full of fondness as he explored this autumn wonderland. His laughter was a symphony of joy, filling the air and brightening your day even more.

The pumpkin patch seemed to be Teddy's playground, a place where he could express his boundless curiosity and energy.

About five meters ahead of both you and Harry, Teddy suddenly stopped in his tracks, captivated by a rather large pumpkin. It seemed to be the biggest one he had seen so far, and his little hands eagerly reached out to try and pick it up. However, it was a challenge even for his determined efforts.

Harry and you shared a chuckle at Teddy's determined endeavour. He didn't give up, though, and instead, he called out to Harry in his adorable baby talk, "Dada, hep! Hep, Dada!"

Harry couldn't resist the plea, and with a playful grin, he made his way over to Teddy. Together, father and son wrestled with the pumpkin, their laughter filling the crisp autumn air.

While they worked on the perfect pumpkin, you put the brakes on the stroller and crouched down in front of your little boy. You asked in a sweet baby talk, "Is this the pumpkin you definitely want, Teddy?"

Teddy nodded his head vigorously, a bright smile on his face. He wrapped his little arm around your neck, expressing his delight and contentment with the choice

“S’settled then,” Harry grinned up at you, holding the pumpkin in his tattooed arms. “Fancy grabbing a coffee at the lil’hut before heading off? God knows we need it.”

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marvelettesassemblenow · 3 months

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The Date

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female Reader

Summary: You tried a dating app where you met with someone without having seen a picture before – and you had a date with one of the most beautiful man you had ever seen

Word Count: 929

Warnings: none I think

When you heard about the dating app with no pictures you thought you should try it out. You were tired about the inappropriate pics you were sent to, because you weren’t on an app for hooking up – you wanted to find a relationship! The app you found didn’t allow to send pictures, you could write some stuff on your profile and click on some likes and dislikes and what you’re searching for and then it gave you options.

That’s how you started to write with James. He was super nice, always checking in with you and very polite. Not demanding and from his responses it seemed like he wasn’t just checking how your day was so he could check it of his list to be polite, but because he was actually interested. After some time another option opened for you to have a call to get to talk to each other.

His voice was so pleasant and he didn’t give you some weird vibes that why you decided you’d meet each other. As you both had no clue what the other looked like (and you hadn’t even described yourself or anything) you asked the restaurant if they could place a bouquet with a sunflower on the table to meet the other one. The chance of red roses were too high you had decided.

You were too early as you were nervous and took a seat at the table. The flowers gave you an option to look at and to not raise your eye every time the door opened. Until a voice saying your name made you look up and leave you stunned for a second until you realized you hadn’t answered so far. Why this man didn’t use an app with pictures was beyond you as he was beautiful! He could have had ladies at his feet if he wanted to and so much more. You thought this was a way for average people to meet, but this man...

“Yeah, that’s me. You must be James then?” you asked when he was still staring at you.

“I am, although it feels weird to hear it now. Friends call me Bucky,” he said and shrugged out of his coat.

“Oh, are we friends then?” you asked and noticed how good his shirt was fitting him. Maybe you should have gotten a picture beforehand as a warning, but then you might have been too chicken to show up.

“I hope so. I mean you know a lot about me already, but it’s up to you. The offer stands. And while we’re still at it and I haven’t sat down yet I think I must tell you that I have a prosthetic arm.”

You didn’t know what it was, but you became bold suddenly – the nerves were gone. “Does the arm hinder you from sitting down?” A laugh left his mouth, he sat down and started to remove his leather gloves that were still on his hands. You saw shiny metal but decided to not comment on it. There were more important things to focus at just like some of the bluest eyes you have ever seen.

Somehow conversation flew easily as if you had known each other for a while and that this wasn’t your first meeting. The food came and you were laughing about a story Bucky told you about his cat when suddenly the lights went off.

“What is happening?” you asked the same time when Bucky asked if you were okay. You soon found out that the whole street was without power and as you had already eaten and were just waiting for the dessert you decided to stay when the waiter brought so many candles the room was filled in a soft glow. Then dessert came and you noticed that Bucky relaxed again.

“Did you plan for this to happen? I mean this doesn’t seem real! I didn’t expect this,” you made a move with your hand towards him, “There isn’t an awkward pause and the conversation flows, the food is exceptional and now this? The whole room full of candlelight? Where is the catch?” you teased.

For the first time that night the soft smile left the handsome man's face. You were just teasing, but now a little bit concerned. And suddenly while you were enjoying your cake Bucky told you about his alias, who he was and that his reputation was exactly why he used an app without pictures. The part that made you really stay was when he looked at you as if you would leave any moment, now that he had shared something about his past.

“Okay, I don’t think I need to know more for the moment. Tell me more about Alpine though,” you offered, and it took him a while, but then you were back where you left of. Bucky insisted on paying and you noticed that he left a huge tip for the waiter before you left the restaurant. Both of you had come by foot and he asked if he could walk you home or at least until you reached a corner where the streetlights were still on.

“Can I take your picture?” you asked him when you reached the entrance to your apartment. “So I can safe it as my contact picture when you give me your number so we don’t have to interact through the app anymore?”

You got a picture of a smiling man, who kissed your cheek and promised to call you as soon as he was home so you could schedule a second date.

Masterlist | Library Blog

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 7)

Summary: Dean and the reader are in it now. Max and Sam are safe but how do they get themselves out of danger?

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 8,800ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Reader POV

You knew there was no way in hell either of you were going to send your brothers back to this fucked up place. Or Eric and Sloane who would surely be killed. But Dean wasn’t going to risk you either. Which meant there was one option.

And thankfully the crowd was still watching the show before them, even if it was much harder to see you and Dean behind the guards.

“Do you know what a blitz is?” you asked. Sebastian looked at you like you were nuts, momentarily distracted exactly how you wanted him. Dean threw a punch, a hard one, connecting directly with Sebastian’s nose. Blood poured out as Dean tried to hit the guard directly behind you and make a hole for you to get away. They were on him like that though, Sebastian’s gaze turning murderous.

“Take these two to my office. Figure out how to dispose of them. Find those fuckers that ran off and kill them,” he growled. He popped Dean in the face once, twice, three times, your blood boiling. You took the opportunity to kick the guard behind you while the focus was on him, chucking your heel at another guard on your left and sending your fist flying towards Sebastian’s nuts. He nearly doubled over, ignoring Dean for the moment, his attention back on you. His very angry attention.

His fist flew out fast. You’d been hit plenty of times accidentally in dance rehearsals. High kicks. Wayward hands. Hell, even Eric had gotten you in the face on occasion when you boxed. But those were accidents. Or you were wearing padding. A mouthguard.

Sebastian Monroe hit you so hard you felt your bones rattle. Your left cheek felt split open, though you doubted it was more than scraped up, a stinging pain to accompany the throbbing that echoed in your skull. Maybe a tinge of blood was dripping down your nose.

You stumbled backwards straight into a guard but had enough time to whip your head around and show your still present crowd of party goers your very clearly injured face.

“He just attacked us!” you shouted, Sebastian glowering as you looked back to him with a smirk. “The world just saw you hit the damn princess of pop on a livestream. Do a thing to us and I don’t give a fuck who you know, you’re going down too.”

“Dad, stop.” Cecilia forced her way into the crowd of people when Sebastian reached for me, smacking his hand away. She stared up at him, fury in her eyes. “It’s over.”

“Stay out of-”

“Everyone is watching. They know what she said. They saw your men move first, you attack them. No one in the world will believe that she’s drunk. Look at them.” His gaze momentarily went over her head and past the bodies in front of him to the crowd of guests nearby.

The room was absolutely silent. Three hundred pairs of eyes dead set on you, Dean, and their host with bloody knuckles. Three hundred phones aimed straight at you. Three hundred witnesses. Too many people to persuade that you’d lost your mind. Too many to convince that you were wrong. Maybe before but after decking you right in front of them? Crazy or not, that was a line in the sand he couldn’t undo.

You yanked Dean to his feet and stepped back from the guards while Sebastian contemplated his next move. He could run or fight. Try to take you and Dean again. Try to buy his way out of this mess.

But he simply stood there, staring at his daughter, as if he knew there was no good option left. He kept standing there, the room still quiet, everyone still holding their breath.

Cecilia said something you couldn’t make out, something that made him recoil as if she’d struck him. As she backed away, flashing lights filtered in through the windows, your nerves only receding when you saw a swarm of people in FBI jackets and members of your security team.

It was only then that you realized something was covering your shoulders. Dean’s suit jacket. His hand was on your shoulder, arm curled around your back. Wait, why did your shoulder hurt? And why was Dean murmuring, his lips against the top of your head?

You lifted your head, Dean wearing a sad smile. “You back with me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, closing your eyes when Barry and Owen reached the two of you. They got you outside away from the very confused party guests but you had to stay put for the moment. The feds were busy rounding up every guard they could find, more and more lights flashing in the dark night, more and more cars heard in the distance.

“That was so fucking stupid of you,” said Dean, taking a seat on the front steps, guiding you down with him. His thumb grazed your jaw, careful to avoid your cheek. You smirked, Dean returning it. “You lost your cool. It was a little scary. A little hot too.”

Your eyes wandered down to the bracelet on your wrist, bottom lip wobbling before Dean was pulling you into his lap. “E-Eric taught me how to win a fight. How to beat people twice my size. How to beat a group when I was outnumbered. But the most important thing he taught me-”

“Words are your greatest weapon.” We both looked up, Eric frowning as he inhaled sharply. You eased slightly. He wouldn’t have left Max and Sam unless they were safe.

“That bad?” I asked when he knelt down in front of me, flickering his eyes up.

“I told you to always fight as a last resort, kiddo,” he whispered. “What happened?”

“She started screaming at him after the text,” said Dean, his arm around my shoulders, holding me close. “They tried to grab her after that and it escalated.”

Eric stared at Dean’s black eye and split lip for a moment, raising an eyebrow at you. “So you baited him. Smart girl.”

“Huh?” asked Dean. You pursed your lips. “What’d I miss?”

“You tossed me the phone so I could read the text.”

“Yeah? Then you left it on the table when you hopped down.”

“Not exactly.” You reached behind you, under Dean’s jacket and your tight one shoulder sleeve, pulling out the phone. You held it out to Eric, his head shaking as he saw the video was still recording. “If I was shouting and screaming, then people were looking at me but they weren’t looking at me. While Sebastian was worried about the fact that Sam and Max were apparently two very famous people’s brothers, he didn’t see me slip the phone away and he definitely didn’t see me catch him threatening to kill us on tape.”

“Hot damn,” said Dean, staring at you with wide eyes. “You came up with all that in a few seconds?”

“When Eric started working for me, he sat me down one on one and told me I could listen to him, learn his rules, let him keep me safe. Or I could not be a damsel and learn how to take care of myself and know he had my back. Pissed me off so much calling me a damsel I decided I’d show him and learn how to do his job better than him.”

“Never suspected that’s what I wanted her to do all along,” said Eric softly, surprising you by taking Dean’s cheeks in his hands, turning his face gently. “When you’re no longer concussed, which you totally are, you and I are going to start meeting for an hour a week, teach you to be safe too. Alright, sport?”

“Sport? Eric Clayton, you don’t care about me now do you?” teased Dean. Eric scoffed, rolling his eyes as he looked you over quickly. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone what a softie you are.”

“I really need to find a new job,” he sighed, pecking a kiss to your forehead as he stood. “I don’t think you have a concussion. A scrape and nasty bruise. Maybe that got your nose but the hospital will check. Don’t do that again, kiddo.”

“I’ll do my best,” you said, catching his hand when he headed for someone in an FBI jacket. “Are they okay?”

“We got in the car before this scumbags cronies knew what hit them. They’re both a little skinny but otherwise seemed alright. Sloane and the rest of the team is escorting them to a hospital where some agents are waiting. You two are going to have to give statements but I’m going to hand this over and check that I can get you out of here first.”

“Can you ask when we can see them?” asked Dean, Eric parting his lips, hesitating.

“Yes but…please try to understand what I’m about to say,” said Eric, squatting down in front of both of you. “When someone is abducted, and found, it’s not like a movie. They have to be checked medically. Psych evaluations. Debriefed by authorities. They have to be cleared to see their families again and the process can be…lengthy. It could be six hours, it could be twelve, it could be three days. Your brothers have been gone a very long time. There are a lot of people involved in making sure that they are as prepared as they can be to see you again. These are not your teenage brothers who were barely going through puberty when you lost them. They’re grown men. They need time to adjust.”

Dean took your hand, interlacing your fingers with a nod. “We’ve waited a long time. We can wait a little longer.”

Eric excused himself while you sat in silence together. Ten minutes ago, your brain was going a million miles an hour and now…

“We should call our parents,” said Dean quietly. “They’re going to feel so guilty for thinking they were gone.”

“It’ll be alright,” you said, Eric waving the two of you over to where he chatted with an agent. “Come on. Let’s go get you settled.”

Four Hours Later

It was a shade past midnight when you found Dean in a hospital room. It hadn’t taken long for you to discover you were trending on every social media platform. Worldwide. Your entire team showed up to the hospital along with Dean’s agent. While you were expecting them to want to spin some story, instead they came with changes of clothes for each of you and word that your parents were booked and on a private flight out to LA already.

Max and Sam had been taken to a different hospital but you knew they had federal agents with them so you didn’t worry too much.

“Hey handsome,” you said quietly, taking a seat on his hospital bed. Dean smiled in his joggers and long sleeve henley, reaching a finger out to brush your cheek. “Won’t even scar. Apparently all the plastic surgeons at this hospital were chomping at the bit to work on my face. One even offered to fix my nose at a discount.”

“I love your nose,” he said, wiping his thumb over the black and blue crossing over the bridge of it. “Not broken?”

“No. Burst blood vessels is all.” You pushed up the sleeve of his hoodie you wore and scooted up closer to him, his hand resting on your gray sweatpants.

“Oh these are soft,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m not sleeping. Don’t scold me.”

“That’s more Sloane’s job, isn’t it?” you teased, Dean agreeing, fluttering his lids open. “Your parents are at FBI headquarters. Mine should be there soon.”

“S’good. Maybe they can see the guys in a few hours. Sloane said a friend in the agency gave some intel. Clean bills of health. They have some old scars on their backs and what look like a healed burn though.”

“Well if the boys want them gone apparently there’s enough plastic surgeons here to take care of it,” you said, Dean humming. You were both quiet, trying to ignore that they’d been hurt at some point. Badly. “Did she find out anything else?”

“Not a lot. They’re still undergoing their mental evals before they take them to the headquarters but it seems promising? Definitely a lot of trauma and PTSD but like the guys have likely learned how to manage on their own I guess? I mean, in my opinion we get those two into the best therapist we can find but in the meantime they’re like…doing better than expected.”

You leaned back in the bed, cramming into his side with a content sigh. “It’s because they had each other. They weren’t alone. I hope.”

“We’ll learn more the next few days, figure out what they need,” said Dean, brushing his lips over your temple. “They should live with us, not our parents.”

“I don’t disagree but why?”

“S’like Eric said. Max and Sam are not teenage boys anymore. They are both twenty eight and fuck, Y/N, they deserve to be adults. Our parents will suffocate them with concern. We can tow that line. Be there but let them be independent, let them be free. Obviously it’s their choice but with the attention that’s going to be on them, we can keep them safe too. We can show them how much fun there is to life in a way our parents can’t.”

“That makes sense. I just want them with us,” you said, closing your eyes, hoping the medicine they gave you for your headache kicked in soon. “I’m sorry I called you those nasty things.”

“It wasn’t real. All’s forgiven,” he said, his arm wrapped firmly around my shoulder. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s okay. Emma said there’s a clip going around of you going all Alpha and stepping in front of me to protect me. Apparently you are in fact, not quite the bad boy people thought.”

“We got our brothers back and I’m no longer a scoundrel? I’d call that a successful night,” he teased, adjusting himself so he sat upright. “Can you do me a favor and get me a snack from the vending machine? I need some sugar.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back,” you said, sharing a quick kiss. A moment later you were down the hall, grabbing a package of swiss rolls for Dean. Your ears pricked up at the sudden noise in the quiet hospital wing. The staff had blocked off a corner of it for you and currently was restricted to your people in the waiting room.

But someone was definitely making noise in a hospital room nearby.

You poked your head in a large dark room, big enough to hold eight beds. There was a grunt and you frowned. The staff said you had these rooms to yourself. They hadn’t forgotten a patient had they?

You quickly walked through the dark space, towards a dim light coming through the windows.

“Excuse me-” You pulled back a curtain, jaw snapping shut as two very naked people quickly scrambled to pull up the sheet at the end of the bed. You shut the curtain and spun around, loud shuffling occurring behind you. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize…”

You quickly walked for the door, barely outside of it before a hand caught your shoulder.

“Y/N.” You turned and faced Eric, his tuxedo pants pulled up but buckle undone, his undershirt halfway tugged down his torso. “I uh, don’t apologize. I’m the one on duty. We are on duty. We should-”

“Stop,” you said, holding up a hand. Eric frowned but remained silent. “I walk in on you and Sloane screwing and you apologize to me? No. Just, no.”

“We are on duty-”

“And there are how many cops and feds outside those doors over there? You know it’s safe here so don’t…” you trailed off as Sloane cleared her throat, walking out barefoot in her dress. You looked between them, Eric glancing down to stare at her hand.

He slowly laced their fingers together, sharing a small smile with her.

“Are we…good?” you asked, the two of them sharing a look and smiling, heads nodding. “Are we happy?”

“Yeah,” said Eric, not giving you the time of day as his eyes wandered all around Sloane’s face, nothing but adoration in them. “I think so.”

“Tonight was a bit of a needed reality check. We wasted a lot of time by not talking to each other. So we talked it out. We’ll talk more about it but…” Sloane trailed off, giving Eric a soft smile.

“We’re going to give us a chance.” He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand, his sole focus on her.

“You both deserve it,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Which is why Eric, you are suspended until further notice.”

He slowly turned his head, giving you his best bitch face. “You’re being checked for a concussion again because if you think I’m going anywhere after everything that happened tonight-“

“Dean and I are safe. We can’t do anything but wait for Dean to get released and then to see the boys. So you two are dismissed. Go talk or whatever you guys want. But I don’t want to see your faces-Eric!” you said when he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Sloane, you understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she said, cocking her head. “But there’s no way in hell we’re leaving you guys.”

You frowned, Sloane slipping past you, heading for the women’s room. You gave Eric a glare, a cocky smirk staring back. “Why are you being difficult about this? We are safe. You two have been in love for years and you’re finally working it out. Take her home, Eric.”

“Nah,” he said, crossing his arms, chuckling when you huffed.

“I will fire you.” He laughed, choosing to wrap his arms around your body, giving you a tight hug. “I’m not joking.”

He hummed, ignoring your repeated grunts at him. Finally you sighed, his chest warm against your achy cheek. After a few beats, you let out a small shake, Eric kissing the top of your head.

“What did your parents say on the phone that made you cry?” You stiffened momentarily, Eric’s chin coming to rest on top of your head. “You think I didn’t catch that? I know everything that happens around here. Spill.”

“Promise me you won’t get angry because when you get angry at them you go all crazy and I need the version of you that’s like my older brother, not my scary protection agent. Please.”

“You do realize older brothers are far more protective than people in my line of duty.” You pouted, staring upwards, his finger booping your nose. Tears filled your eyes, his own full of worry. “I promise to be good. Don’t worry-”

“No it’s…do you actually care about me? Like an older brother would?” you asked quietly. He smiled, leaning back to look you up and down.

“You remember a few years ago how you thought you asked me to have sex the night of your 30th birthday? Yeah, see, you actually asked every single man on the security team and they all saw how clearly plastered you were and said no.” You blinked away your tears momentarily, holding up a finger.

“I did what?” Eric laughed deeply, rubbing your arms.

“It was a bit adorable really. But me? No, I didn’t get an ask because it would have been ‘like fucking my brother.’ I put you to bed after that. You were shaky on the details in the morning and knew you asked somebody to screw you so I took the heat so you didn’t feel embarrassed around the boys. So. Do I care about you?” He cocked his head, hiding a smile. “Yeah. I care a fuck ton. You’re my best damn friend, little sister and the world’s biggest pain in my ass all rolled into one. I love you kiddo which is why as much as I’d love to take Sloane home, she understands I’m not leaving my family alone tonight. Especially not when your parents are vile because I had a dad like that and I know how it fucks you up.”

You swallowed thickly, Eric bending down to be at eye level with you.

“Just because Max is back does not mean you have to have a relationship with them. They-”

“It wasn’t my fault,” you whispered. He furrowed his brow, Sloane’s footsteps heard behind you, coming to a stop. “They called and asked me not to tell Max what they said because…b-because I was never supposed to pick him up that day. They were. They blamed me so they wouldn’t get scrutinized. T-They blamed me and told me…for years I thought…”

You hiccuped, Eric’s grip on your shoulders hard, so hard it hurt. He was pissed. More than pissed. But his face was strangely calm.

“You punched a mob boss in the dick tonight. A very, very violent man that’s killed god knows how many people. You’re strong and you know that. I saw the tape and damn it kid, you are amazing. I am begging you, do not let these people hurt you anymore. They don’t deserve your protection. They are abusive and manipulative. My dad was the same way. Exactly the same. Don’t be like me and wait your whole life to acknowledge it. Don’t give them a second more of your time. Be a big sister instead and do what you have to in order to protect Max.”

“It’ll break his heart,” you breathed out.

“Look at his life. His heart’s already broken.” You looked past Eric and spotted Dean, green eyes downcast. “Those people told you to die. Fuck them. Max still has a family, right here. Hell, he can have my parents too. But we are not letting him go from one manipulative monster straight to another. And you already decided that, didn’t you?”

“I just…I don’t…what if he thinks I’m lying?” you whispered. Eric moved aside, Dean sighing as he gently tilted your chin upwards. “What if he picks them? They’re his parents. I’m-”

“Y/N.” Dean shook his head. “You’re forgetting something very important.”

“What?” you breathed out, his hand cupping your uninjured cheek.

“He probably remembers every single detail of that day. He knows you weren’t meant to get him. Even if you were, it wasn’t your fault. As far as we know, he’s spent a long time living with a manipulative bastard. The second they blame you to his face, he’s going to figure out exactly what life’s been like for you while he was gone. You’re not going to have to say a thing. They’re going to fuck it up themselves. All you have to do is be there for him after the fact, sweetheart.”

You nodded, Dean wrapping you up in a hug, Eric and Sloane leaving to give you some privacy. “Dean?”

“Hm?” he hummed.

“You want your swiss rolls?” He laughed and let out an agreeing hum. A moment later you were in his bed, splitting the package, a pit forming in your stomach. You left your snack in the opened plastic wrapper, Dean’s heated gaze on you when you went to the dark window. You glanced downwards to the parking lot, catching at least nine different news vans with bright lights on. “They’ll never have normal lives. Sam and Max. Even if we weren’t famous, they are in their own right. They didn’t get to be normal kids.”

“What’s really wrong?” he asked. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean sat upright in bed, lips pressed into a thin line.

“How do you know something’s wrong?” you whispered, crossing your arms. His lip twitched up, if only for a brief moment.

“How’d you know I’d pick up on what cherry blossoms meant in that fake fight?” You bit the inside of your cheek, shrugging a shoulder.

“Because you’re smart. I trust you.”

“Why cherry blossoms?” Dean asked again. You stepped away from the window, stopping in front of him.

“Because it means a safe place to me.” He took your hands in his, stroking the backs of them with his thumbs. You met his gaze, Dean staring up with big green eyes that eased some of the worry in your gut. “My childhood house, there’s a cherry blossom in the front yard. It was weird because no one in the neighborhood had one. But we did. It was the tree that was always safe when Max and I played hide and seek. It was the finish line whenever we had races. I had my first kiss under that tree. I wrote my first song under it. The day Max didn’t come home, I sat out there for hours crying and then just feeling numb.”

The pit in your stomach rose up, eyes quickly fighting back hot tears.

“It was safe. He knew it was safe. It was always safe or home base or where he’d wait for me to get home from practice so we could play after school. So I’d sit under that stupid tree everyday for hours hoping he’d just come back to where it was home, where it was safe. To our stupid finish line.” You wiped off your face with your sleeve, Dean’s chest rising and falling slowly. “Finish Line is about that damn tree. Homebound? That tree. Cherry Lipstick? Tree. Blossom? Tree. Jungle Gym? Tree. They were all for Max. All for him just in case he heard them so he’d know. So he’d know I was still looking, that I wasn’t giving up on him. It’s the only reason I signed my first record deal at all. I thought the more popular I got, the more power and money I’d have and maybe I could find him. I thought it’d be enough but it wasn’t. It all came down to dumb luck.”

“Y/N.” Dean chuckled, pulling you down to sit on his lap. You put your arms around his neck, Dean shaking his head. “You’re the best damn big sister in the world. Max might be losing his parents but he’s got nothing to worry about.”

“I worry about things,” you said, Dean laughing again.

“No shit,” he said, his deep chuckle helping ease away some of the lingering concerns in the back of your mind. “Now sit down and relax. Tonight’s a good night.”

“I know,” you said, Dean handing you the swiss roll. You took a bite, Dean scooting back on the bed, bringing you with him. “That’s why I told security the all safe code was cherry blossoms. But I still don’t get why would Eric tell you that when we didn’t know each other much yet?”

“I think he saw the way we were together at the restaurant and that afternoon. It was probably as obvious to him as him and Sloane are to us. It’s inevitable.”

“Inevitable? Good song name,” you said, Dean grinning. “You know I totally caught them fucking in a room down the hall.”

“Eric!” shouted Dean. Approximately six seconds later he was in the doorway, gun in his hands and wide eyed. “You and Sloane, eh? About fucking time!”

“I swear to god I’m quitting this job,” grumbled Eric, flipping Dean the bird as he left.

“That’s his love language,” you said, Dean laughing. “You know what mine is?”

“Cuddles, orgasms and swiss rolls?” You looked him up and down, nodding your head. “I’m just that good.”

“Oh my god,” you said, rolling your eyes and slipping out of bed. “I’m getting more snacks, cocky bastard.”

“You love it,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, playboy.”

Dean POV

“Thanks,” I said the next morning at the local FBI headquarters. I was tired, my face hurt, and I definitely had a concussion which meant sitting out tonight’s game and the next few weeks worth. Y/N’s cheek had swollen to a nasty purple color but she’d gotten a few hours sleep at the hospital. I hated to see her hurt but she took it in stride, her focus elsewhere.

Sam and Max were somewhere in the building, as free men, which made my stomach do this weird flipping thing akin to the first time I’d seen Y/N. It was nerves but good ones. We’d be able to talk to the guys soon but they were wrapping up talking to some special investigator which meant Y/N and I had time to kill. While our parents were using that time to scream at each other in a conference room after I not so subtly slipped to mine about what her parents plans were, Y/N got dragged into signing autographs for the people in the office. It was fucking ridiculous and unprofessional of these people but she needed something to do to keep her mind occupied.

Which meant I had a chance to talk to someone I’d been dying to since last night.

“Hey,” I said. Cecilia looked up from the table she’d been staring at. Her pretty blue dress from last night was gone. Now she wore way too big sweatpants, an FBI shirt and had a pair of cheap flip flops on her feet. “The agent said you’re okay if I talk to you for a minute?”

She nodded, pulling her hands down to under the table. I took a seat across, giving her a smile.

“I uh, went to the LA concert at the end of August too,” I said, holding up my wrist so she could see my friendship bracelet. “That was before Y/N and I knew each other.”

She only stared, vacantly almost. Poor kid looked like she’d been up half the night.

“Why did you protect us last night?” I asked. “You stepped in and your dad just…it was like he realized it was over.”

“He was going to kill you both. He tends to do that to people.” I took my turn to stare, Cecilia sighing. “He would have, even if everyone was live streaming it. He didn’t care at that point.”

“But why would you protect two strangers? I don’t even understand how you got him to stop-”

“Just because he’s a bad person doesn’t mean I’m one.” I parted my lips, the right words to respond not coming. “It’s why I lied for Sam and Max when they slipped your guys names to the party planner. I always knew my dad was violent and something was up with them. I figured they always worked to send money to their families or he’d threatened them. But a man like my dad…”

“What he says goes,” I filled in for her. She nodded, relaxing her shoulders. “Thank you for covering for them. I’m guessing they would have been killed if you hadn’t.”

“It’s not a guess,” she said, breathing deeply. “I’m the only thing in the world my dad cares about more than keeping his power.”

Cecilia leaned back in her chair, glancing down for a split second.

“I told him if he touched either of you, touched anyone, he would never see or speak to me again. We fight enough that he knows I’m telling the truth.”

“Is that why you’re helping the feds? You hate your dad?”

She got up, pacing back and forth. “I don’t hate him. He was never bad to me. He was overprotective if anything. But he bought two boys off the black market to be slaves for him. Shit Max started working at my house two months after I was born. My whole life. My father doesn’t deserve to be free ever again. I just wish I said something sooner.”

I rose to my feet, Cecilia stopping in her tracks. I took a few tentative steps closer, her arms firmly crossed over her chest. I paused a few feet away, her short frame practically dwarfed by the large clothes, making her look even smaller.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to tell you something and I need you to listen to me, really listen.” I crouched down to meet her at eye level, finding her gnawing on her bottom lip. “It was not on you to save Max or Sam. Or even Y/N or myself. But you did. At fucking fourteen years old. You’re still a damn kid and you went way above and beyond for us. Don’t you ever blame yourself for anything your dad ever did. He might not be a good person but you are an amazing one and I will owe you for the rest of my life. I may hate your dad but I don’t hate you. Y/N and I both feel that way. I’m sure our brothers do too. Now, life is going to get rough for you because all of us are all over the news. But we’re going to help you get through it. Whatever you need, we will help. Understand?”

She nodded after a moment, her eyes still full of worry.

“They said your mom is flying over from Europe right now,” I said, going to the table and jotting down my number on the notepad in there. “This is my cell. I want you to give it to your mom when she gets in. Tell her to call me anytime, okay?”

“Why would you help me?” she asked quietly. I stood upright, handing her the paper. She took it, carefully folding it and putting it in her pocket.

“Because you’re a good kid and you can’t help having a shitty parent. Now, do you need anything while you wait for your mom?” Cecilia shook her head. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Can…can you tell the guys I’m sorry? And Y/N too?”

“Sorry, no can do. You only apologize when you’ve done something wrong you see.” She rolled her eyes, quickly frowning when she realized what she’d done. “Do me a favor? Keep being a normal teenager.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Thank you, Cecilia,” I said, offering her a smile. “I’m sure we’ll talk again. Maybe we can catch one of Y/N’s concerts together next year.”

She blushed and nodded. I had my hand on the door when she cleared her throat behind me. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“This is probably going to come off as super creepy but Y/N is happier with you. Take it from a teenager that’s obsessed with her. She is so much happier in pictures lately. I saw the way you stepped in front of her. You’re a good person too.”

“I try,” I said. “I’ll see you around.”

I was in the hallway for less than two seconds when Sloane rounded a corner, taking my hand. “The boys are ready. They want to see you and Y/N first.”

I didn’t have time to get nervous as Sloane dragged me down the hall and back around the corner, Y/N and Eric waiting outside a door with a few agents. Sloane released me as I took Y/N’s hand, one of the agents opening the door for us.

I spotted an unfamiliar young man spinning around in a conference chair first, the room full of light from the large windows on the back wall. He had the same color hair as Y/N, his eyes filtering over and meeting mine, finding those the same as hers too.

We both looked away at the same time, my eyes drawn to the figure by the windows. Holy shit Sammy got tall. His hair was a longer and I could see the beginnings of stubble along his jaw, probably in need of a shave.

But that smile when he saw me? That was still my Sammy’s smile.

At least that hadn’t been taken from him.

“Wow. Can you believe it Sam?” asked Max, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “It’s the three time superbowl winner Dean Winchester!”

“I know! And the Princess of Pop? I think we’re supposed to be meeting our brother and sister, not celebrities. Where are those untalented hacks anyway?” teased Sam.

“No clue. Maybe we can get autographs while we wait. Our siblings definitely aren’t as cool as these guys,” said Max with a shit eating grin aimed at Y/N. He winked and she dropped her jaw. “Hiya, horse hair.”

“I don’t have horse hair you little shit,” she said, storming over, Max catching her in a crushing hug as he stood.

“Hey jerk,” said Sam as he approached me.

“Hey bitch,” I whispered, meeting him in a deep embrace. He chuckled deeply, squeezing me way too tight. “What’s so funny?”

“I’ve been dying to show you for years I ended up taller than you.” I rolled my eyes, holding him harder. “It’s alright. Only one of us could be blessed to be tall and good looking I suppose.”

“Oh I fucking missed you, you asshole,” I laughed. There was a squeal beside us, both our heads turning as Max quickly released Y/N. “Don’t break her on me, Max. I like that one.”

“Eh, she’s alright,” he said, Y/N wrapping her arms around his waist in a side hug. “A little clingy.”

“You’re a dick,” she said with a smile. “I missed you Maxie.”

“Yeah I guess I missed you too,” he said with a roll of his eyes and a smile. He gave her another squeeze and looked to me, eyes flickering down to my arm. “Nice tat.”

“Thanks. Little brothers go on the arm,” I said, Max glancing back up. “Come here, shrimp.”

I pulled him into a hug as Sam reached for Y/N, the two of them sharing some words. Max relaxed against me, letting out a very deep breath.

“You don’t know this yet but I really love you, kid.” He burrowed his head in the crook of my neck, nodding once. “You can cry you know.”

“I did enough of that over the years,” he said, raising his head, smiling wide as he looked me in the eye. “It’s just like being able to take a full breath for the first time in a long time.”

“I understand the feeling,” I said, ruffling his hair, spotting the faded bruise on his cheek. “What happened here?”

“It was part of our plan. Well…getting punched wasn’t but it was part of it,” he said. I cocked my head when Sam threw an arm around my shoulders, Y/N sneaking in between the both of them.

“Plan? All we heard was you guys slipped our names onto some guest list,” said Y/N. They shared a look, silently communicating, the sudden realization hitting me that there was so much we didn’t know.

“We’ve made…a few escape attempts over the years,” said Sam. “The last failed one was eight years ago. We knew if we tried again, it had to have high chance of success which meant outside help.”

“Because we only had one shot left and we knew both of you had some level of infamy…we always thought if we could reach out to one of you, we knew we’d be able to get out. But it was kind of impossible until we found out you were dating.”

“Seb, that motherfucker, loves the Wolves and Dean. Cecilia loves Y/N and those two had a pretty argumentative relationship to say the least. We figured if we could somehow get you guys invited to one of his parties, he wouldn’t think twice because maybe it was a way to get some good grace with his daughter and it benefited him at the same time,” said Sam. “So we risked it.”

“How’s she doing by the way? We heard Seb was arrested. She doesn’t really have anyone else beside her mom who Seb has banished to Switzerland most of the year,” said Max.

“She’s uh, alright. Pretty sure the kid is beating herself up for not saying anything about you guys, said she had a gut feeling something was always off,” I said. They shared a look again and frowned. “She’s just a kid, guys. She-”

“Cecilia is the only person we like,” said Sam with a laugh. “Trust us. She’s how we know so much about you guys.”

“She was also the only person that was ever nice to us. No, we have no problem with her. We should talk to her before we leave if we can,” said Max, Sam agreeing. “But I guess we should save the explanations for when mom and dad are here.”

Y/N’s face fell, Sam giving her a side hug. “He means my parents. Max decided they were his a long time ago cause yours kind of suck. No offense.”

Y/N snapped her head up to Max who shrugged. “They blamed you when it wasn’t your fault. Maybe they didn’t spell it out but I heard enough from Cecilia and caught enough snippets from interviews she’d watch to know that they tried to pin my kidnapping on you. I gave them up years ago. I hear John and Mary are nice.”

“They are,” she said, closing her eyes. “I was freaking out last night about telling you and…we can talk about it later. I’m sure your guys parents are chomping at the bit.”

“They’re going to smother us,” sighed Sam.

“Yeah. Isn’t it great?” asked Max, giving both me and Y/N a hug, Sam completing it on my right side. “Alright. Let’s let ‘em in.”

“So why was that pass interference?” asked Y/N as we lay on her large sectional late that night watching football.

“You can’t hold the guy,” said Sam, walking around the chaise and taking a seat beside me.

“That was not a hold,” said Max and Y/N in sync.

“Yes it was,” I said, Sam echoing my sentiments.

“It wasn’t but the angle is bad,” said Eric, Sloane leaned back against his chest over on the love seat. “Aren’t you supposed to route for the Wolves by default, kiddo?”

“We are a Chiefs family thank you very much,” said Max, Sam rolling his eyes. “Oh you want to start again, Winchester?”

“We are formerly a Chiefs family, Maxwell,” said Sam, narrowing his eyes. “How many times have we been over this?”

“I am a Wolves fan when they are not playing against the Chiefs. How many times have we better over that, Samuel?” shot back Max.

“Here we thought they’d be traumatized shells of themselves. Instead you’ve been bickering over football the past decade?” asked Y/N, turning her head to look at both.

“It’s a coping mechanism,” said Sloane, taking a piece of popcorn from the bowl in her lap. “Although your guys psych eval report was shockingly positive. Some stuff to work through but manageable. I always figured you’d be super fucked up. No offense.”

“One of the shrink people said it’s cause we had each other,” said Sam, glancing at Max. “Healthy codependency.”

“We probably should go to therapy though,” said Max, Y/N ruffling his hair.

“Of course. When you’re ready. Take a few days before you try to start unpacking. And when you’re ready we can see a doctor about getting those scars removed,” she said. They were both quiet for a moment, Sam’s head resting on my shoulder.

“So why aren’t you at your game tonight?” asked Sam.

“Oh I wonder,” I scoffed, giving him a noogie. “Coach said if I set foot in the stadium he’d bench me the rest of the season. He’s a good guy.”

“That’s nice considering you get paid a gajillion dollars to show up, even if you’re half dead.” Sam snickered beside me, letting me pull him into a noogie.

“Probably helps that Y/N personally spoke to the commissioner of the league and threatened to pull out of the halftime show if they didn’t quote ‘Make accommodations for not only an injured top draw of the league but someone who’s personal life they’ve capitalized on all season.’ Girl don’t fuck around,” said Eric. He took a sip from his beer, Max raising an eyebrow at his sister.

“Seriously? You’re that famous?” he asked.

“She’s that powerful,” I said. Y/N tilted her head upwards, a small smile on her lips. “Excuse us for a minute.”

I took her hand, Y/N following me down the hall to her studio. Y/N slid her hands up my arm, holding on tight. “What are you thinking about big guy?”

“Do you remember last night before the party when I was talking about football?” She hummed, tracing her thumb under my black eye. “My contract runs out this year. My agent was about to start negotiations.”

Y/N pulled me over to the piano, sitting on the bench before patting the spot next to her. Slowly I sat, her right hand reaching across my body and hitting a key. She took my hand and hit the same key with it, doing it a few times.

“What are you doing?” She moved my hand down the keys, hitting another one.

“You like the piano. We’re going to have to find you a hobby in retirement and this is one we can do together.” A stupid smile spread onto my face, Y/N lacing our fingers together. “You were halfway out the door last night. Now that the boys are back…maybe you take a year, we take time with them while you figure out what you want to do next.”

“I told coach earlier this is my last season,” I said. “I need to be home more.”

“Just don’t give up what you want for us,” she said. I shrugged, turning in my seat.

“I’m not giving up anything. I’m gaining something new.” I took her hands into my lap, Y/N shifting closer. “I do want one thing though. Live life for you, not Max. He’s going to be alright. So no more songs trying to talk to him. No more pushing yourself to the extreme. Let’s start making you the priority and what you want.”

“I want you to move in permanently. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to write the sappiest love songs about you. I want to do only twenty shows next year and focus on our family for the rest. I want-”

“Damn girl, you’re greedy,” I teased. She punched my arm, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I think we can arrange those things, sweetheart.”

“Oh and I want to plan Eric and Sloane’s wedding,” she said. I laughed, tugging her into my lap, her legs wrapping around my waist. “Can you imagine? It’ll be full of like badass action movie kind of people.”

“Eric’s going to hate it. I’m in,” I said, chuckling lightly. “It’s a little presumptuous though. I mean, they started dating twenty hours ago.”

“Those two are so going to be engaged within a month.” I hummed, cocking my head. “That isn’t me saying I need…you don’t have to-”

“We don’t have to rush. Someday,” I promised.

“Someday,” she whispered, brushing her lips over mine. “So if brothers go on the arm, where do I go?”

“Where do I go?” I teased, Y/N grinning. “Oh? Do we have an idea?”

“Oh yeah I’ve got one of those.”

Reader POV

Four Months Later

You jogged down the hall of the stadium, buckets of sweat pouring off you. Even Eric was having a hard time keeping up. You kept running around a corner though, smiling when you saw an equally sweaty Dean in his uniform and pads, helmet by his side talking to Benny and Michael.

“Hey!” You ran over and found yourself in a big hug, Dean squeezing you tight. “You’re doing amazing sweetie. But you, Benjamin, are favoring your right shoulder and making a hole and the Chiefs are taking advantage. Get your shit together. He’s going out with a superbowl win, got it?”

He held up his hands, Dean chuckling to himself. “Didn’t you guys like it better before I taught her all the rushing routes?”

“She’d make a good offensive coordinator,” said Michael. “Great show out there. Normally these suck but yours was actually watchable.”

“I’ll bring you up next time,” you winked. “I’ve heard you sing karaoke.”

His face went white and you laughed, Dean kissing your sweaty forehead. “How are the boys doing?”

“Max is in a Wolves jersey. Win or lose, you get to make fun of him for switching his team after making such a big deal about it.”

“Oh I definitely will,” he said, people moving around and heading back onto the field. “Walk with me.”

You followed by his side, Dean taking your hand in his. “They seemed like they’re having a blast. They had on matching shirts making fun of us earlier so we’re going to get memed the hell out of.”

“Good. I’m glad they’re having fun,” he said, the stadium loud when you stepped foot onto the fake astroturf. “Are you?”

“Are you kidding me? I just performed at the superbowl. You’re up by ten. Our brothers are having the times of their lives. I’m pretty sure Eric and Sloane got caught on camera staring adorable into each others eyes which I’m totally printing out onto t-shirts we can embarrass them with.”

“I’m literally right here, asshole,” said Eric behind you. You spun around with a smile, Eric rolling his eyes. “You got a minute before we head back if you don’t want to miss any of the game.”

“You mean you don’t want to miss any of the game. You know I appreciate my number one fan, Eric,” said Dean with a cheeky grin. Eric flipped him off, hanging back once you were closer to security.

“Kick it in the ass, babe.” You held up your hand, Dean high fiving it before your fist bumped into an explosion, a tradition you’d started before each of his playoff games.

“Always do. Ready to have a trophy husband in about three hours?” he teased.

“Trophy husband?” you said, Dean thumbing over the heart tattoo on your wrist, his own sporting a matching one. You weren’t married. Technically. There was a time for that down the road. But you’d gotten the tattoos a few days after Max and Sam had come home. The media had guessed what it meant and landed on it was some stupidly cute couple thing. Only a few knew the true meaning.

You were his, he was yours and that was that.

“I mean you do have a cute butt. I guess you can be one of those,” you laughed. Dean grinned and pecked a kiss to your lips, a thunderous roar in your ears from the thousand of onlookers. “I love you so much.”

“I love you girl with the obnoxious orange sneakers,” he said. You glanced down and blushed, Dean curling a strand of slick hair behind your ears. “Want to grab some chicken nuggies with me after my game? I mean, last time I was there I ran into the love of my life. Maybe I’ll see her again.”

“Yeah I think you will,” you said, kissing him quickly and winking. “I’ll see you soon, playboy.”

“See you soon, princess.” You let him jog over to his team, quickly jogging out of there with Eric by your side.

“I love your sneakers!” shouted someone as you ran through a stadium hall, trying to make it back upstairs to grab a quick shower and change.

“Thank you!” you called back, Eric shaking his head. “What?”

“I can’t believe you wore those godawful orange sneakers in front of a hundred million people,” he said. “The Winchester jersey makes sense but the shoes?”

“I didn’t do it for them,” you said, smiling when you glanced down at the shoes.

Your original sneakers from college. It’d taken some hunting down but you’d found them still in your old roommates possession. More than one of your designers and members of the team tried to persuade you to not wear them. They clashed. They were ugly. They didn’t match anything.

But you didn’t care.

While the world was watching you perform in those orange sneakers, you only cared about one person watching.

The boy that fell in love with the girl with the obnoxious orange sneakers. And that smile on his face when he saw you in them?

You’d never forget that smile for the rest of your life.

___________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic

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thoseboysinblue · 7 months

Text

I Kissed Someone New Last Night

Christian Pulisic x reader

You visit your best friend, Christian, in Milan after a break up.

Word count: 4150+

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, mentions of weight loss, mentions of death of parents

Song Inspo: Kelsea Ballerini's Penthouse (Healed Version)

Requested: No

"Come to Milan" he pleads with you through the phone, "I'm worried about you, y/n."

"Christian, you know I can't do that," you frown at him.

"Please," he says quietly, "you've lost too much weight, you're not taking care of yourself, and no offense but you kind of look like shit," he tries to lighten the mood just a bit.

The truth is, there is nothing stopping you from hopping on the next flight to see your best friend and both of you know it. You broke off your engagement a few months ago, after finding out your fiancé was cheating on you. You also recently quit your job because no matter how hard you tried you always were bumping into him and you desperately needed a fresh start.

You had considered moving to Florida to be closer to Christian's family, the only real support system you had left. And even though he was far away, Christian never failed to be there for you through every heartbreak you had endured in your short life.

The night your mom died when the two of you were in high school, he dropped everything to be by your side, staying with you through all of it, holding you when you cried, staying strong for you when you completely fell apart.

He flew home as soon as he heard the news of your father's passing a few years later, and again, he was your rock. As everything in your life seemed to crash down, he was the constant, steady presence.

His family had welcomed you with open arms, including you in their holidays, family vacations, and trips to visit Christian and watch him play. They always made sure you felt like you had a place to call home. In recent years, you had opted to go to Christian for holidays so that he wouldn't have to spend them alone, the two of you setting about creating your own traditions. That was until your ex came along and you felt like you should spend holidays with him, but it broke your heart knowing Christian was spending them alone again.

Christian never really liked your ex, he couldn't put his finger on exactly why, but something about him made his guard go up. And it broke his heart when he found out he was right all along, maybe if he had said something he could have spared you the heartbreak, but you seemed happy and he wasn't going to interfere if that was truly the case.

"Come see me, I'll take care of you, I'll feed you pasta and let you get drunk on Italian wine. We can see the city together, I haven't gotten to do much exploring yet. It will be good for you to get away, take a break, get some fresh air, come on y/n, please?" he continues to plead with you.

"Ok" you whisper and you see his face light up, immediately grabbing his laptop and searching for flights before you have a chance to change your mind.

"How soon can you leave, looks like I can get you on a flight tonight, or tomorrow," he grins into the phone.

"Christian, you don't have to do that, I'll book something," you roll your eyes at him. He never failed to be generous and take care of you, whatever you needed, you didn't even have to ask most of the time.

"Nope. Not happening. Tonight or tomorrow, y/n? You better give me an answer or I'm closing h my eyes and clicking on whatever I land on," he chuckles.

"Fuck it, tonight," you grin at him, the first genuine smile he's seen from you in as long as he can remember.

You have to admit that the thought of landing in Italy tomorrow morning to spend however long you wanted with Christian makes you a little dizzy.

"Ok, pack your bags sweetheart, I'm sending you your boarding pass now," he smiles at you, "fuck I'm so excited to see you, it's been ages since we've gotten to spend time together."

"Christian, I just saw you this summer in Florida," you chuckle at him.

"Yeah, but that was less than 24 hours and you had the dickhead with you so it doesn't really count," he huffs at you.

"Christian this boarding pass says seat 4C, you did not just book me a first class ticket did you, you jackass."

"I sure did, because I can, and because I wanted to, and because there wasn't much left on the flight anyways. Now, get off the phone and start packing. Call me when you leave for the airport. Love you, y/n."

"Love you too, Chris." you shake your head at him before you hang up.

A few hours later, you have taken care of anything that might need your attention in the next few weeks since you were unsure of exactly when you would be back. You had packed and showered, and were set to leave for the airport. Making one final check that you had everything you needed, you call Christian, who answers sleepily, "I'm headed to the airport," you smile, even though he can't see you. "Ok, I'll see you in the morning," he says through a yawn, "safe travels."

"Thank you for this" you whisper but you can hear him snoring through the phone so you quietly end the call, after whispering another "love you."

You phone dings when you turn it off of airplane mode and you look down to see a message from Christian.

Christian: ciao bella 🤌🏻 there will be a car waiting for you to take you to my apartment. I'll be in training when you land, but should be home when you get there. Can't wait to see you 🫶🏻 Love you.

Y/N: oh god, am I going to be subjected to your attempts at learning Italian?

Y/N: thank you for the flight and arranging the car. I'll meet you at home. I can't wait to see you either. Love you, Chris 🫶🏻

Christian: do not insult my Italian, y/n. On my way home now, see you there 😍

When you arrive, he is waiting outside for you, pulling you into a warm embrace. It feels like he might crush you, but being in his arms heals your soul just a tiny bit.

"You've bulked up," you chuckle, your head resting against his chest. "You're skin and bones" he whispers leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

"Come on" he says retrieving your bags from the car and thanking the driver, waving off your attempts to help carry your things.

He leads you inside his new apartment, sitting your bags just inside the door before intertwining his fingers with yours, "let me show you around," he smiles at you adoringly.

He leads you from room to room, letting you know his plans for each of the ones that aren't quiet fully furnished yet. He grabs your bags as you follow him up the stairs opening the door to what you presume is his bedroom.

"Christian, this is gorgeous," you say taking in the room, the view out of his window to die for.

"It is," he smiles, never taking his eyes off of you.

You and Christian always share a bed when you are together so you aren't sure why it makes you slightly nervous to think about staying with him now, but it does. Your stomach flips as he moves your bag into the walk in closet, sitting your toiletry bag on the bathroom counter.

"Are you tired?" he whispers tucking a loose strand of hair around your ear and settling his hand on you jaw, smiling a the way you lean into him and shake your head, your eyes already a little brighter.

"Hungry?" he grins when you nod.

"You feel up to going somewhere, or do you want me to cook here, or we can order in?"

"We can go out, but can I have a few minutes to freshen up? You know I always feel gross after a long flight."

"Of course," he smiles, leading you into the bathroom, grabbing a towel for you and turning on the shower.

"Thank you," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his waist, "for everything," a couple of tears slip from your eyes which you try to hide from him but he definitely notices.

"Always, y/n" he breathes out, kissing you on the forehead.

After your shower, you wrap yourself in a towel, walking into Christian's room so that you can grab some clothes out of your suitcase. Christian is sitting on the bed when you walk out of the bathroom and his heart sinks when he realizes just how thin you've gotten. He knows it's just from the stress, and that you tend to lose weight when you are dealing with heavy emotions, and that you always return to your normal with a little TLC, usually from him.

He doesn't say anything, he knows he doesn't have to, you can read perfectly well the look of concern on his face.

"I'll be fine, Christian," you whisper as he nods.

"I know you will be now," he offers you a weak smile, but the look of concern is still evident.

You quickly get dressed, noticing that Christian has already unpacked your things and placed them on the empty shelves in his closet, your heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

"Come here" he gestures, patting the empty space on the bed beside him.

You waste no time in climbing over him and tucking yourself into his side, your head resting on his chest as he scratches your back.

"You know I'm here for anything you need, right? Forever." he speaks quietly.

You nod, allowing the familiar sound of his heart and his scent to wash over you. You never feel more cared for than you do when you are wrapped in Christian's arms, his warm embrace always soothing you, no matter what is going on in your life.

"You sure you don't want a nap," he asks quietly, a small yawn escaping his lips.

"We can nap if you are tired, Chris," you whisper.

"That's not what I asked," he chuckles.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and he kisses you on the top of the head, "food first, then naps."

He takes you to a small restaurant close to his apartment, filling you with as much pasta as you can hold before you make the short walk back to his place.

Once you arrive back at Christian's, he closes the room darkening shades in his living room and the two of you settle down on the couch to watch a movie.

Before long, you fall asleep wrapped up in Christian's arms and he does the same. You aren't sure how long you've slept when you stir slightly, waking Christian up.

"You ok?" he whispers into the dark, a sigh escaping his lips when you nod and nuzzle your face into his chest. You let out a giggle when his stomach rumbles, "you can't be hungry again, Chris."

"I'm starving, actually" he chuckles when you move slightly allowing him to stand up and pull you to your feet. He makes the two of you a sandwich, both of you eating before heading up to get changed for bed.

You wander out of the en-suite bathroom in Christian's room after finishing your skincare to find Christian sitting in the bed, already under the covers.

You give him a hesitant look, chewing on your bottom lip, "you sure you want me to stay in here, I could stay in the guest room or..." you trail off as he stands up and makes his way over to you wrapping you in a hug.

"Why wouldn't you stay in here, we've been sharing a bed since we were kids, y/n," he says quietly his hand stroking your back.

"I don't know," you whisper, "I just wasn't sure you wanted me in here."

"Of course I do," he says taking your hand and guiding you towards the bed, "but only if you want to be in here. I can definitely get you set up in the guest room if you would feel more comfortable."

"No, this is fine," you offer him a smile, your moment of anxiety passing.

"You know, I think my parents always thought we were up to something when we kept sharing a bed when we got older," he chuckles, "led to me getting the talk from my dad on more than one occasion."

"No, really?" you groan, your cheeks painted with embarrassment as you try to hide your face with your hands.

"Mmmhmmm" he laughs pulling your hands from your face, "I think they were worried that we might figure out that one of us is a boy and the other is a girl when we were younger, but as we got older, I think there were secretly rooting for it."

"I figured they would eventually put a stop to it, but I guess they trusted you far more than the trusted me," he grins.

"Guess we've disappointed them then," you chuckle tucking yourself into his side as he kisses the top of your head.

"Sleep well, y/n, wake me if you need anything," he whispers as he turns off the lights leaving the two of you wrapped up in nothing but the darkness and each other's arms.

The next several days in Milan Christian works to improve your mood as much as he can, enjoying when he catches flickers of you returning to your normal self.

You wake up early with him, enjoying quiet mornings before he has to leave for training. He even asks if he can bring you along for a few sessions giving you a chance to catch up with his old Chelsea teammates. You spend afternoons wandering the city and learning Italian with him. Evenings, which he knows you typically dread, are spent, snuggled up together watching movies or binge watching some of your favorite series.

Being constantly surrounded by Christian's presence is working wonders for you, you can feel yourself healing from everything you've been through the past few months. During a face time with Christian's mom she mentions that she can tell both of you are in a better place mentally and physically and that she's glad you are getting to spend some time together.

You cannot deny how much you enjoy being with him, here in a safe bubble, seemingly protected from the outside world. And Christian, he's enjoying your company more and more each day. Things are seamless and comfortable between the two of you, conversations are easy, and the silences are never awkward.

He has been thrilled to have you with him as he embarks on a new season with Milan. You've been able to travel to away games with him and we're blown away on your first trip to the San Siro.

One particularly warm evening after a match, you walk out of the bathroom in a pair of pajamas that show far more skin than any others you've worn around him. You pretend not to notice the way his breath hitches in his throat when he sees you and the way his eyes follow you as you slip into bed next to him.

"You ok?" you whisper, resting your head on his chest noticing the way his heart is hammering away.

"Couldn't be better," he sighs, trailing his hands over the exposed skin on your back and shoulders noticing when your skin erupts in goosebumps, a reaction he's not used to from you.

"I've got the next couple of days off, I thought we might take a little trip to Lake Como tomorrow, have some lunch, see the area," he says quietly, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"That sounds nice," you whisper, turning to place a kiss to his chest.

"And I have a surprise for you tomorrow night," he smiles as you turn to look him in the eyes, resting your chin on his chest.

"You know I hate surprises," you grin, a glint of playfulness in your eyes.

"I know, but this is a good one, and you're not getting it out of me," he grins back at you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

"Now, let's get some sleep, we have an early morning tomorrow," he says, reaching to turn off the light and gesturing for you to turn on your side so that he can be the big spoon.

"Good night y/n," he whispers, "love you," as he places a feather light kiss on your shoulder, so light you almost don't notice it.

"Good night, Chris, love you too." You whisper back to him, intertwining your fingers with his.

The next morning, you both wake up early and have a quick breakfast before leaving for the day's adventure. Lake Como is more beautiful than you could imagine and you share a lunch that borderlines on romantic at a small cafe that overlooks the lake.

"I can't believe we are here," you nudge him with your shoulder as you walk down a small path towards the waters edge.

"I'm sure you could sweep some lucky girl off of her feet here," you chuckle at him noticing the way his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Probably, but that's not what today is about is it," he rolls his eyes at you, "today is about me and you spending time together, not me scoping out potential date spots."

"I know, but what better place to fall in love than Italy, Christian," you say, twirling yourself around in front of him, missing the absolutely smitten look on his face.

"Maybe," he shrugs his shoulders, his eyes never leaving you.

"Are you going to tell me what this surprise is?" you ask him, looping your arm through his and resting your head on his shoulder. Noticing the way his skin reacts to your fingers tracing over his skin.

You like Kelsea Ballerini right?" he asks, as he rests his head on the top of yours as you both of you stare out over the water at the colorful houses dotting the horizon.

"I do, her new album is practically an anthem for my life right now, why?" you breathe out, shuddering as his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"She's playing at the stadium tonight, and I might have gotten tickets for us," he says lowly, tilting his head up so that he can look you in the eyes and see your reaction.

"Playing at the stadium, as in your stadium? In Milan?" you nearly squeal, turning to fully face him as he nods.

"Thank you," your voice comes out low, barely above a whisper as tears well in your eyes, "for this, and for everything, you've always been the one person I could count on no matter what, and I honestly don't know what I would do without you."

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering a bit longer than normal as you notice him swallow dryly.

Leaning back slightly, you take in his features, suddenly mesmerized by his beauty. You've always known Christian was attractive, that much was obvious to you, but Italy has done him a world of good. His summer tan has lingered a bit longer, freckles dancing over his skin, and his eyes seem a bit brighter and more full of hope than you've seen them in a while. You catch your gaze lingering over his lips, noticing how soft and plump they are and wondering what they might feel like pressed against your own.

Christian has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, there isn't a single core memory of yours that doesn't involve him, being here with him the past couple of weeks, his patience, support and attentiveness have healed parts of you you didn't know needed healing.

Part of you never thought it was possible to develop feelings for him beyond friendship, and yet, when he's looking at you the way he is at this very moment, it makes you wonder if there couldn't be something more there.

"You're staring," he whispers, enjoying the flood of color that rushes to your cheeks.

"Am I not allowed to stare at my best friend? You're kind of beautiful you know?" you say, your eyes never leaving his.

"You're the beautiful one," he whispers, leaning down and glancing at your lips, almost as if he's thinking of kissing them before kissing the tip of your nose.

You turn, facing the horizon again as his arms squeeze your waist. "I love it here," you breathe out, feeling him nod as he rests his chin on your shoulder, but you aren't quite sure if by "here" you mean your actual location, or if you mean in Christian's arms.

"We should go," he gives you a gentle squeeze and slides his hand into yours.

The car ride home is quiet, he can tell you're lost in your own thoughts and he'd give anything to know what you are thinking about as you stare out of the window. Truthfully, he's a bit lost in his on thoughts as well, trying to come to terms with everything he's been feeling over the last few days.

Back at his apartment, you start getting ready for the concert, Christian ordering dinner for the two of you to eat as you get ready. You pick out a flowy dress, something that accentuates your best features, wanting to look pretty for yourself, and you catch yourself thinking that you also want to look pretty for him. You want him to be proud to have you with him, not that he's ever made you feel otherwise.

Once you are finally ready to go, you walk out of his bathroom about the same time as he walks out of his closet, also dressed and ready to go. You both silently stare at each other, soaking one another in before his lips curl slightly at the edges as he makes his way over to you.

"You look beautiful as always," he smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your mouth.

"So do you," you blush slightly at his compliment as he takes your hand and leads you to the car waiting to pick you up.

The concert is amazing, Christian never leaves your side, and most of the night he has one or both arms wrapped around your waist.

As the first notes of "Penthouse" ring out around the stadium he moves so that he is standing behind you, both arms around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he gently sways with you to the music.

Tears well in your eyes at the words that seem so very personal to you, a few spill over as Christian grips onto your hips turns you around. He brings his hands up to cup your face as he brushes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs as the music fades out.

You're staring at each other, both of you knowing exactly what is coming next, as she belts out the healed version of "I kissed someone new last night, and now I don't care where your sleeping baby," Christian presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft and slow, and without a moment's hesitation you grip your fingertips into his t-shirt as you melt into the kiss; his lips slotting perfectly against yours, just as you had imagined they would. Suddenly, it feels like all of the pieces have fallen into place.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, "I love you, y/n" he says quietly, only loud enough for you to hear. A couple of tears fall from your eyes, as you nod and say "I love you too, Christian."

"No, baby, I need you to understand what I'm saying. I'm in love with you, I am desperately in love with you," he says as he bumps his nose against yours.

"I know, and I'm in love with you too," you grin, a squeal escaping your lips as he picks you up and spins you around.

"Stay in Italy with me, I can't bare for you to leave me," he says as he pulls you closer to him, burying his face into your neck, "we can both start over here, and we can start building a life together," he says hesitantly, searching your features for an answer he is hoping will be yes.

You nod and he crashes his lips back to yours in a much heavier yet still reserved kiss considering you are in public.

"So you're staying," he mumbles against your lips.

"I'm staying" you grin, "until you're sick of me."

"That's never going to happen sweetheart," he smiles sweetly, "never."

Tag list:

@chelseagirl98 @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic fluff

293 notes · View notes

enihk-writes · 5 months

Text

[hard to recall]

part of the [architect!reader] series can be read together with the other fics or as a standalone

pairing: pbss!chung myung x gn!they/them!reader

will be alternating povs from pbss!chung myung and mhdd!chung myung

summary: a hundred years and a few remnants later

word count: 5.50k

author's note: i got very demotivated towards the end but the og plot was supposed to be reader comes back from work to see mt hua in shambles and they tear down all the buildings they built just to secure funds and that's why the current sect looks so bare, and it's heartbreaking because reader is an architect and this was their life's hard work and cm knows that too and he realised there was virtually nothing left of that could remind him of them, like they put their soul into these structures and now it's gone type of thing,, and in the chaos of the aftermath when there was no one to lead the sect as the remaining elder they have to do it and everyone knows they tried their best and that they died miserable,, cm was supposed to find this out bit by bit through hyun jong and the other current elders... BUT like i said, i got suuuuuper demotivated towards the end because of writer's block so i scrapped the og idea... maybe i might come back to try writing it, but not in this story rn...

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what does it mean to be loved?

what does it take to be loved?

power? fame? money? or was it a good heart?

═══════════════

they've always had a good head on their shoulders. some have said that it was a little too good. poised steady and head held high no matter the situation, had they been able to carry a sword like he, who knows what they could have accomplished?

but alas, they were not destined for such things.

the natural state of their qi clashed with the martial arts of mount hua. like water on fire, and it had left them weaker after each training session. they were lucky, having discovered this flaw early, or else they might have suffered more down the line.

talent is something you nurture to bloom.

he looks at them, eyebrows raised in questioning.

i'm going off to see what else i can do.

and just like that, they left. nothing much changed in his life. though, sometimes, he does feel as though it wasn't as noisy as it should have been. it's almost like there was a hard-to-ignore scratch on a perfectly polished marble.

the food tasted more bland now that they weren't watching over the cooks with an iron fist. the clothes didn't feel as crisp now, since the ones on duty these days didn't leave it out in the sun for as long as they used to. and dust was now left to collect in corners until it became too much to ignore, it wasn't like that when they were here — they would have gone down on their hands and knees to clean those annoying places obsessively.

he also might have missed that there was someone who talked to him like a peer, an actual peer, over most of the others who either talked to him like a child, their unreliable junior, someone to be feared and respected. it's nice to have someone your age to talk to, and he never really thought he needed that sort of companionship until they were gone.

well, he doesn't mind waiting. he was a pretty hard worker too, and wouldn't it be a little embarrassing for him if he had nothing to show for when they came back?

three years flew by so quickly, and he walks up to the front gates one unassuming day to find them reaching over to knock on the door.

he was a little shocked.

well, not shocked in the ah sense. but in the ahhhhh sense.

when they stood next to each other side-by-side, his mood went a little sour when he sees that they were still not much different in their height. he was hoping that he had grown more then they did.

welcome back.

mmh, i'm home~

he didn't ask about what they've been up to in the past three years while they were wandering across the country.

the elders seemed pleased when they all walked out of that long meeting, the elder in charge of the finance hall in particular looked a little happier than when he walked into the room.

huh. he would be lying if he said that this didn't make him wonder what happened to them in the past three years.

still, he kept his mouth shut, preferring to watch from the sidelines instead. grinning at them when they walked over in his direction, slinging an arm over their shoulders, annoying them like they hadn't ever left home.

dinnertime was noisy, the table where they sat was swarming with so many other disciples — all wanting to hear of their stories of the outside world. chung myung can't blame the others much, most of them weren't allowed to leave the sect grounds until they reached a certain age.

oh, him? he didn't get permission either, he just does it because he never cared about the rules. and it was this mindset that had all his seniors and other elders of the sect rubbing their temples in exasperation.

he watched from across the dining hall, chin propped in his hand, as the littlest ones tried to garner their attention by pawing at their thigh with small and chubby hands.

they laughed at the children's antics, carrying the youngest up from the ground, resting her on their lap as she was lulled to sleep against their chest. for a moment, they caught chung myung's gaze, looking at each other through the gaps between the crowd of people. they smile shyly at him, looking away when one of the older sect sisters asks them something.

chung myung's lips pull into a thin line, looking down at his half-empty plate of food awkwardly.

he wasn't sure why he wished for a moment that they were the only ones there in the dining hall then. maybe he wasn't used to having to share them with anyone, it was always just the two of them. with how chung myung was so quick to pick fights, nobody his age wanted to hang around him. only they had the patience to even try. and because of that, they slowly lost their friends — because if anybody wanted to be friends with chung myung, that person surely had something wrong with them.

he felt bad. knowing that he was the reason why nobody wanted to associate with them was a shitty feeling. he tried to chase them away in the beginning, never resorting to hurting them but he wasn't ever nice to them either.

go away!

nuh-uh!

that was always the way they greeted each other back then. he would hide from them in the tallest cupboards in the kitchen or in the trees or even the rooftops but they must have learnt something from his chung mun sa-hyung with how they still caught him each time effortlessly.

right.

this is how it's supposed to be. seeing them surrounded by so many people, all looking at them in awe and wonder. this was how they should have lived all this time.

the usual appetite he had vanished. pushing the food away, chung myung gets up to leave, slipping away into the cold night and away from the action.

white puffs of air float upwards at each exhale, gravel crunched under his feet as he drags them to bring him back to his room. he doesn't make it far though — there was a pitter-patter of light footsteps coming his way. he sighs and chuckles to himself.

he would know that sound of footsteps anywhere.

looking over his shoulder, he sees that the toddler sleeping soundly in their arms. it was amazing, how they managed to carry the child running without waking her up from all that shaking. he wonders for a moment if...

chung myung-ah.

he tilts his head.

let's put her to bed. she must be tired from staying awake for so long, poor baby.

he listens to them coo softly over the little girl's nose scrunching up from the cold. chung myung curiously pokes at the mounds of fat stored on the child's cheeks, snickering when the kid frowns in their sleep, grunting in protest.

they gasp and slaps his hand away.

hey! don't do that!

they whisper-yell, cradling the fussing baby's head closer to their chest, shushing her cries. rocking their arms, hoping the child would go back to sleep, which she thankfully did.

chung myung only looks away from their accusatory gaze.

═══════════════

there used to be a nursery a little aways from the main dorms.

it wasn't there anymore. much like most of the buildings that used to stand here in mount hua back in its heyday.

it was just one of the many little things that had been torn down from trying to salvage sellable materials. that was nothing more than a product of time, and the actions taken by a sect struggling to feed the mouths living there.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

═══════════════

why would you do something this pointless?

chung myung couldn't understand them. he leans against the wall with his arms crossed, talking to them through their window, with him on the outside as they were drawing out lines on a parchment paper by candlelight.

hm... but i don't think it's pointless though?

they state simply, not once looking up from their work. feeling neglected, chung myung whines a little. they were finally back after a good few years and now that he wanted to spend time with them, they're too busy? please look at me. he wants to say, beg even.

you're awfully clingy these days.

he hears their breathy chuckle. and the corners of their eyes crinkle up, lips barely hiding that wide toothy smile he'd missed seeing. though, it looked less childish than he last remembered. that's right. they're both grown up now, they're both adults now.

he wishes that they could be kids forever.

mostly because kids don't think too hard or dwell too long on things that hurt their brains. and whatever new winds that have begun to sail on the ship since they've returned to mount hua, was bringing them to a different destination than he thought they'd end up. he wasn't going to gamble on the possibility that they might have taken notice of this subtle change like he did too. all these thoughts hurt his head.

he listens to the sounds of the calligraphy brush dragged across the paper, tingles travelling up to his brain. it was late, he should be back in bed... but...

ahh...hnn...

chung myung yawns, not bothering to be polite around someone he's known his whole life. he hears them giggle again, but this time, they set their brush aside. leaning across the table, their fingers fiddled with something, soft clanks of wood bumped into each other for a moment before the window was finally thrown open.

come inside.

they call out to him with that same soft smile.

woah there! you shouldn't be inviting a man into your private quarters so easily like this! what if he misunderstands something... this is so intimate you know...

he gasps dramatically, even if this wasn't his first time in their room, this was his first time in their room as an adult. it was very much a significant thing to him.

they laugh again.

...you jest. we're friends, what's there to misunderstand?

ah. of course. they were only friends. nothing more, nothing less. what was there to get confused about?

he wordlessly climbs in through their window. taking off his boots before putting his foot down on their pristine floorboards. it's hard to forget about that time they scolded his ear off for dirtying the floor they had freshly cleaned.

you still remember to take your shoes off huh?

they mumble quietly.

you don't have to do that anymore though. i'm not as nit-picky as i used to be. i can always clean it up again.

he thinks they've certainly changed quite a bit.

his thoughts wander more, but his gaze never once leaving the drawings that came into being on the paper. thin and thick lines that formed into what he recognised as the entire scale layout of the current mount hua seen from above. he marvels at their small drawings of furniture in each of the miniature rooms.

he moves to stand behind them, eventually sitting on their bed after changing into the spare set of sleeping attire they've kept in their wardrobe just for him.

as the night wore on, he finally succumbs to his tired state, burrowing under the covers of their bed. he calls out to them to go to bed too, but it seems they've chosen to ignore him in favour of their work. he didn't have half the mind to try again — not when they had that look in their eye. it was almost like a possession, some innate obsession that they'd somehow unearthed within themselves in the three years they were gone.

he doesn't remember them ever being like that. if anything, they were the most laid-back person he's ever known. with no particular ambition, no wants beyond what they needed... not much plans for their future. he didn't know what happened to them before they decided to leave, he still hasn't asked them about what happened in the time they were away. they've changed, and deep down he feels a little bitter for getting left behind, falling asleep with those thoughts running in his mind.

the next time he woke up, it was the beginning of daybreak. the room was still dark even with the sky slowly turning into a pale violet. he felt the covers lift and they climbed into bed as quietly as they could, not realising chung myung was very much awake.

ah!

they gasp, startled by the red of his irises staring right at them from under the blanket's dark shadows.

you scared me...

they mumble and whine tiredly, falling into his chest, his outstretched arms circling their waist, pulling them closer.

m'sorry...

his lips ghost on the crown of their head, a hand hesitates to cradle the back of their neck. what if that was too much? sure, they've huddled together under the covers on cold mornings like this countless times before... but they were younger then. now, things have changed. but maybe it's more him than they, or it was both.

he could think about that later. right now, he feels so warm and relaxed he feels himself drifting back to sleep again.

═══════════════

that day when he had dug into the ground to find the secret vault for the ledgers, he just barely missed the pile of scrolls sitting on the bottom of the bookcase.

he got curious, opened them and saw a set of familiar drawings.

the lines were faded from a vibrant black to a faint grey and the parchment had also turned a little yellow on the edges. his fingers traced over the writing at the corner of the paper. it was a signature of that person's name. he tries and fails to remember the way their hands held onto that brush they'd often used.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

═══════════════

recently, the elders have been discussing about what to do with some of the main halls.

you see, they've neglected the management of the buildings in favour of setting aside the budget for other matters like investing in expanding the local businesses or other miscellaneous affairs. they'd figured there wasn't really a need to keep up with building maintenance, not when these halls have been standing well and good for the past few centuries.

though the main issue now was that there was a wee bit of a nothing-too-serious case of termite infestation going on in the wooden frames on a select few of the said buildings. ugh, more work everyone around.

oh! but it's not for chung myung though!

he remained blissfully unaware about the current plight of a certain person until he comes across them slumped against the outer walls of the back gates, head in their hands.

hey...

there was a slight hesitation in his voice.

hm?

they look up to meet his worried gaze with a confused, sheepish smile. loud growling of their stomach interrupting the moment.

he feels his irritation grow. seriously! they were old enough to take care of their own needs! no sane person would choose to ignore those needs to keep on working!

nausea hits them hard when chung myung pulls them to their feet, the world around them spins as their knees grow weak and buckle. thank god for his reflexes, catching them before they fall to the ground — but now what?

he does what chung myung does best.

throwing the poor and sick, now his supposed patient, over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

they don't even bother fighting back instead, they fade in and out of the intense feeling of wanting to throw up on chung myung or passing out — wondering to themselves if this guy was genuinely trying to put them to an early grave.

put me down...

nuh-uh. you need to eat.

they groan in exasperation.

and they passed out soon after.

in the days following that fainting scare, everyone agrees to take a step back. probably feeling guilty that they were driving one of their own like a workhorse. but that isn't enough to stop someone who's a known workaholic. chung myung doesn't remember them being like this before.

though a friend was a friend, and he shoves down the ugly feeling slowly brewing in the pit of his gut to take care of them. he was dependable when he wanted to be. just don't expect it to happen every time.

he knew the corners of the sect they liked to be, and in each of those corners, he'd put down his clumsily made step-stools — uneven and shaky, made from scrap pieces of branches and logs he found. it wasn't the best workmanship in the world, though they were delighted that he did this for them nonetheless.

not long after, there was a second, more polished and well-made stool that stood next to each and every one of those misshapen ones. and in the duo's later years, a third one was added to the lineup.

it was a common sight for the younger disciples to see two of their elders and another guy hunched over, roasting water chestnuts by the back gate like a bunch of delinquents until sect leader chung mun would drag their two elders by the collar as the third person trailed behind sheepishly.

═══════════════

the back gates once made out of brick and stone had been torn down with only a low fragmented outline left behind. chung myung walks around that area until he stumbles on a mound of dirt by a wall still standing.

curiously, he kicks off the top layers of soil, revealing a splintered and rotting piece of wood. the more he unearths, the more the mound begins to take the shape of three step-stools.

his mouth waters at the smell of roasted chestnuts wafting from the kitchen. he hasn't had that in a while.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

═══════════════

loud banging noises from dawn till midday were the norm this past week.

almost everyone bit their tongues from complaining. it was a necessary process, after all. even the elders held back from commenting on the ruckus. of course they did, this whole mess was their fault! who asked them to neglect building maintenance!

they were perched on a bamboo scaffolding, mumbling curses under their breath. straining to pull out rotted wood, trying not to squirm at the disgusting look of wet mold. cleaning out the gaping holes and filling them out one by one was a cheapskate way really — but what the elders ask for, they had to deliver. no matter how tiresome the job was, they have to prove themselves.

somewhere in the back of their mind, a voice was always condemning them. telling them over and over on repeat how useless they were, not being able to pick up on the basic skill of using a sword in a martial arts sect. the odd one out, the nail that stuck out, the stubborn thorn that got on the soles of one's foot. all descriptors that applied to them. their master, a man whose name they didn't want to speak of, was a cruel one. they always felt like a freeloader, taking and taking like a parasite, his words, what use did they have other than being another mouth the sect had to feed?

just as the rest of the world faded into a blur, a familiar voice cuts through the fog of their spiralling thoughts.

he calls out to them, face red from a combination of alcohol, running away from the seniors and the heat of summer. he clamours up the scaffolding with a small basket and a bottle of wine, trying to hide himself from view.

you aren't expecting me to hide you from our seniors... are you?

chung myung laughs nervously.

i'm not going to lie to someone to cover your ass.

urgh... you sound like those shaolin monks talking about the five virtues of righteousness...

they were about to snap back when a flurry of footsteps came their way — chung myung retreats further into the shadows, stilling from making any more noise. they glance over at him, before turning over to continue with their work.

a few of the junior brothers stop at the foot of the scaffolding, panting a little. the boys look up to their senior, nudging amongst themselves to ask the whereabouts of their other runaway senior.

uh, senior... have you seen...

the timid voice of the junior was interrupted by the loud banging of the hammer against the wood. and every time there seemed to be an opening, the banging quickly resumed again.

the boys decided to just give up and report to the elders that they'd lost track of their runaway senior. grumbling amongst themselves about how they've wasted their time.

chung myung remained in his spot, only coming out when the coast was completely clear. all while they were still hard at work, pulling out the wood, and filling out the holes.

he reached into the basket, plucking out a kumquat from the bunch. he blows the dust off it and wipes it clean before nudging the fruit to the other's lips.

open your mouth... ahhh...

the kumquats were just as sweet and tart as expected. they chew on it thoughtfully, gathering the seeds under their tongue to spit it out. chung myung's hand moves to hover under their chin, and they raise an eyebrow in question.

you can spit the seeds on my hand.

ew. that's so disgusting. what are you? a pervert?

the man looks at them indignantly. urgh, they were so rude! it's even worse than when they first left mount hua! to have believed life outside shaanxi would have changed this block-head potty-mouthed person was a pipe dream after all!

you... you're cussing me out, aren't you?

chung myung shakes his head quickly, knowing they weren't above tattling to their elders if he pissed them off. he's known this first-hand since childhood, and it doesn't seem like things were going to change in adulthood either.

you can buy my silence with some of those mooncakes you have or with the mandarin oranges in the basket.

he sucks in a breath. they were asking for his favourite mooncakes... they were so cruel... evil, evil bastard! what friend? this was clearly the devil in disguise, maybe he should have brought talismans to test that theory...

oi.

he grumbles in defeat, getting to work by diligently peeling the skin off the mandarin oranges, splitting the fruit into its little segments, and feeding it to them piece by piece with slices of mooncake in-between each fruit to cleanse their palate.

mmh... our chung myungie can be such a good boy too eh~

shut up!

they cackle and drown out his insults with the loud banging.

═══════════════

the sect had been gifted a few carts of mandrin oranges by the merchant guild. chun myung had taken a few to snack on in his free time, and as he peels the skin off the fruit, he thinks about how nice it'd be to have someone to share these little slices with.

he bites on a piece.

it was sweet, but not like he remembered. and there was also a bitter aftertaste that left him feeling emptier than before.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

═══════════════

war was such a devastating thing.

beyond the obvious loss of lives, there was also the grief gained from seeing someone who is still alive and kicking lose all that made them... them.

chung myung hasn't been himself in a long, long time. he barely remembers through the haze of liquor-induced stupor the type of person he used to be before this endless bloodshed. he smiled less, got agitated more often, and even for someone who had always seemed to attract wayward troublemakers this was all too much. he wonders what went wrong, did that person also notice something was wrong with him?

no. that person surely noticed. they were an architect for god's sake — being observant was part of their job description. he wanted to ask them why they hadn't been so hard on him like everyone else. the tension hanging in the air had made the sa-hyungs lash out at him, he somehow became the scapegoat that took on the blame for the smallest errors. not that he minded, he understood they didn't mean it, but it doesn't make it any less hurtful.

myung-ah.

he looks up, eyes clouded over and dazed. a vaguely familiar figure makes their way towards him, talking with someone, presumably the tavern owner, in hushed voices before a hand caresses his head gently. chung myung leaned into the touch, it was as comforting as it always was. he hasn't been seeing them as often as he'd like these days... he frowns at the realisation.

myung-ah. let's go home.

he groans as he feels them lean him against their shoulder. he's been told he smells like plum blossoms, most of the other swordsmen that practised the plum blossom divine arts did too — but they didn't, and he becomes curious about what they smell like. nuzzling his nose into the side of their head, he catches a whiff of what could only be described as laundry left under the sun.

this person... how was it possible for someone to be this comforting in every aspect of their being? it doesn't make sense, they were human were they not? how was someone able to have such a clear mind at all times? even chung mun sa-hyung slipped up once in a while, losing his patience, just like he did earlier today when he chastised chung myung for not taking things as seriously as he should have been.

do you... do you also think i haven't been doing my best?

he mumbles under his breath, voice strained and cracking just a little. he felt his stomach drop, out of nervousness or dread, he wasn't sure. maybe it was even both.

the two stop walking. they were at the foot of the steps leading up to the front gates. he looks at them, afraid to hear what their answer would be. he tries to laugh off his question, peeling himself off them and was just starting to go up the steps when he feels their hand grip at the back of his uniform.

they pull him back towards them and hesitantly pushed him to sit. chung myung watched the expressions on their face morph through the gaps of his hair hanging over his eyes. he was the most terrified he had ever been in his life — ever since he'd come to terms with the fact that he saw the person standing before him as someone more than a family or a friend, any prospect of them thinking of him in a negative light was enough to have him running with his tail between his legs.

he dare not say he was in love with them. not when he held so much unresolved resentment towards them for leaving him behind. he wished, still to this day that they hadn't gone off to find what they were good at. they should have stayed within the walls of the sect, they should have stayed here with him, where they would have never bloomed their talents and made everyone want to take them away from him. they could have been all his if they stayed, and he could have held them as close as he wanted, envelop them with his whole being. his love, all his, his, his.

chung myung-ah.

he tried not to make a face.

our chung myung works hard in his own way. i don't know about the others, but i do. i know you have your own ways of working hard.

they brushed his hair back, tucking some strands behind his ear. he hated it. he hated how it made him melt under their fingertips, hated how even after all these years he didn't have the courage to admit to something this simple.

they didn't know all of him. if they did would they still touch him this tenderly?

his hands find their waist, and then their hips. musing at the way their pupils dilated and shook, he tugged them towards him. they stumble over their feet, falling into his chest. there was a stupid grin plastered all over his face as the other tried to get up from the embarrassing position. his arms circle around them, pulling them in once more, setting them on his lap.

...you're drunk. you know that right?

they push away his face that had been inching closer. he holds their hand covering his mouth, pressing his lips against the inside of their palm — kissing it once, twice, a few more times until he felt satisfied, before moving their hand to rest on his cheek. he rubs his sand-papery jaw against their smooth palm, the tip of his nose tracing their wrist, thumb pulling down the long black bracer so his lips could reach the thumping vein lying under the thin layer of skin.

their breath hitches as his teeth grazes over their wrist, he ponders for a moment before biting down on the flesh. hard enough that they wince, whimpering softly, but not enough to draw up blood. they feel the back of their ears grow heated, not really wanting to find out whether it was from embarrassment or arousal. hitting at his shoulder with their free hand, they chide him for doing something so indecent out in the open, where anyone could see.

do you hate it?

that's not the point!

but... you don't hate this... right?

they turn away from his prying gaze. he wasn't wrong, they didn't hate that he was doing this. it's just... what if...

chung myung clicks his tongue. with a snap of his fingers, the alcohol in his system leaves completely in a translucent haze. he scoffs at the way their nose crinkled in disgust from the overpowering smell. he cradles their face into his chest, saving them from their little predicament. now sober, he agrees that he had been a little too carried away, so he digs his heels to the ground and kicks off into the air — still carrying them in his arms, jumping on rooftops until he reached the front of his private residence.

he refused to let them down even as he walked inside, despite their balled fist thumping on his shoulder. using that same scolding tone, still said in a soft voice, not once raising it in annoyance or anger.

with wide strides and feet falling heavily on the wooden floorboards, he locks every door and window in the residence — just in case someone becomes too nosy. tense body only relaxing in an exhale when they were both in the privacy of his bedroom. setting them down on the soft covers, he kneels at their feet, resting his chin lightly on the plush of their thigh, mumbling about how sorry he was for the roughness earlier.

it's okay.

their hands work their way through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, cupping his cheek and turning his face up towards them.

chung myung was a beautiful man.

he knows it, but their look of quiet admiration made the blood rush to his face. he wasn't used to seeing someone look at him so lovingly, not when men and women would throw themselves on him from the lust they felt, not when most people closest to him always had a furrow on their brow from the antics he pulled. this was so new to him, he didn't dare move, lest it broke this tender moment.

have they ever looked at anyone like this?

probably not, he thinks, closing his eyes to savour the smooth pad of their thumb drawing circles on his cheek. smile tugging up the side corner of his mouth as the scent of the sun grows a little closer, their lips brushing over the hard lines on his face, his sun-kissed skin.

═══════════════

he doesn't have a lot of joys in this second life.

though there was one that everyone around him seemed to have picked up on. it was strange that someone as seemingly money-hungry as he was found content in the simplest things — his bedding washed in plum-blossom-scented soap, freshly dried to a crisp under the blazing sun.

what the others don't see was how behind the closed doors of his sleeping quarters he would hold onto the sheets so tightly in his grip his knuckles turned white. burrowing his face into the fabric, he breathed in deeply, trying to recall the face of his sun.

a hazy figure, a blurry visage.

it's been a hundred years, after all.

#enihkwrites #return of the mount hua sect #return of mount hua #return of the blossoming blade #rotbb #rotmhs #cheong myeong #chung myung #cheong myeong x reader #chung myung x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #return of the blossoming blade x reader #i was supposed to release this on his birthday... sorry guys... i got distracted... my bad....#time management skills are so wack like genuinely it has impacted my life negatively

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 2 months

Text

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 20.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: Slight angst. Alcohol.

Tag List: @his-mochi-cheeks

Links: Can I Stay: Masterlist

You looked like a jewel.

You’d been to the salon for hair and makeup; had been to the spa for a waxing and skin treatment. You’d had everything that could be plucked and everything that could be massaged, filed, shaped and painted and the moment you pulled up the sparkly flesh colored, curve hugging, mini dress up over you hips, slipped the nude colored straps over your shoulders and reached just behind you to zip up the hidden zipper and turned to look over your own surprising reflection in your floor length mirror you gave yourself a tiny spin in place.

The dress sparkled like facets of a diamond even in your sparsely lit bedroom. The slight sparkling fringe moved when you moved and where the delicate pattern of the sparkles stopped, the dress gave the illusion of showing a lot more skin than it did; thanks to the fact that it seemed to blend in with your skin tone perfectly. There were some places in which the illusion broke; such as the high slit that crept up so high on your smooth bare thigh or on either side of your breasts where whatever bits of covering fabric simply stopped existing and the slightest glimpse of skin outlined the curves of your body.

The dress was sexy. It looked good on you and you felt beautiful, desirable, and powerful in it.

You bought it a few months ago. You’d happened upon this particular number in a boutique and hadn’t ever planned on spending this much on a dress at the time but when you’d held the dress up to yourself; shrugged and thought what’s the worst that could happen if you just tried it on, well…

Turns out, the worst that could happen was if it you as if it were made exclusively for you and you fell absolutely in love with every sparkly bit that curved over your hips, and hugged tightly around your waist; despite the fact that it was actually much more money than you’d ever wanted to spend on a single garment for one night; and was actually much sexier of a look than you thought you had a right to pull off at the time. What with being single and alone and undesired and the last thing you wanted was the purely animalistic looks you’d recognize in many of the men’s eyes; muted only by the scrutiny of the women around you who leaned toward bitchy and jealous when presented with a woman who wore such a sexy look with confidence and power around them.

You were beyond giving a damn anymore. At least when it comes to anyone who might have anything negative to say about you.

You left your neck bare; the dress was distracting and the cut away sides that gave just enough side boob with the way it landed below your arms and the delicately low cut neckline, you didn’t think you needed to draw any more attention below your neck. Instead you opted only to wear some delicate dangly earrings that might occasionally distract the occasional wandering eyes should they find themselves so inclined to look.

One item though; one very distracting and obvious item had you second guessing.

The diamond engagement ring.

Should you wear it? Something so obvious in its meaning in a place filled with so many people who both had no business knowing the truth and who really shouldn’t know at this point in the game.

You vacillated. Putting it on and taking it off at least three times before you let out the longest sigh and simply moved the ring to your right hand. Maybe you’d get the nerve to move it back when you saw him tonight. Maybe you’d change your mind when his eyes fell down to the empty ring finger of your left hand, then slipped over to catch the sparks that flew and caught his eyes from your right hand and looked back up into your own with whatever flash of disappointment in his eyes hidden so quickly you would question whether you’d seen anything at all.

He would understand. This was work. This was your career. These were your coworkers and this was your professional reputation. Sure, the truth would have to come out eventually, but you were desperate to put a little bit of distance between you being his direct supervisor and him being your soon to be husband.

The ring felt foreign and wrong on your right hand.

You did your best to push the feeling deep down inside of your belly where you could safely ignore it for now.

You hoped for a few things tonight.

That you wouldn’t collapse into a heap of love-sickness when you saw him.

That you could manage to keep yourself from drinking too much alcohol in some weak plan to keep yourself from collapsing into a heap of love-sickness when you saw him.

That Baekhyun would … that he might perhaps, by-chance, maybe you kind of, sort of, you hoped that Baekhyun would fall into a heap of love-sickness when he saw you.

You slinked closer to your front door; making the briefest stop at the entryway table that you kept at the door for one final touch. Something you knew he would very well struggle against when he leaned in close for a harmless and chaste touch of his soft cheek against yours; a hand that might linger on your waist when he came in close for a greeting he would smell the fragrance you sprayed against your neck. He would smell it here when he leaned close to whisper into your ear to ask you something harmless like ‘Would you like another drink, Miss Manager? This is already your second one, will you be okay?’, ‘Did you order the chicken or the fish, Miss Manager?’ or ‘Would you like to dance with me, Miss Manager?’

You felt giddy with anticipation.

All of your team members would be mingling with the other department team members; all of whom had worked tirelessly on this project from the very start. There would even be speeches and acknowledgments of a job well done. Another successful project completed. High ratings would be teased at. The liquor and the beer would flow in a grateful celebration as the wallets of the biggest, fattest cats got bigger and fatter.

Upper level producers, directors, and project executives would likely be on their second or third drinks by now and would start to set their wandering eyes on some of the younger, fresher girls as the alcohol gave them just enough of a push for a flirtatious compliment. Tucked away somewhere within the grand ballroom, one might even catch a glimpse of blond hair adoring a handsome face atop of a pair or strong, broad shoulders that would fill out a designer suit in a way that would surely take anyone’s breath away.

The taxi driver took a turn and you lifted a hand to grab a hold of the grip above the window and your nose caught the scent of your perfume. You were always careful not to overdo it. He might not even notice it until his face came in close to you. Maybe while you were both dancing. Maybe while he sat beside you at the table and leaned down to pick up your napkin that had slipped to the floor by your feet; reaching down at the same moment that you did, your heads nearly colliding.

You had to watch yourself tonight. Maybe three drinks maximum. Maybe three dances maximum. Any more than that was simply too dangerous.

Of course deep down inside you hoped his secret whispered questions wouldn’t all be so very appropriate. In your mind, his questions shifted as you sat in the backseat of the taxi to the hotel where the party was surely well underway by now. You didn’t mind being a bit late to these things. You’d spent the entirety of the year being obsessively dependable and chronically punctual but this was the end. This was the celebration. You could afford to relax now.

The first few times you’d attended, the idea of letting go on a weekday evening felt somewhat forbidden. But this was how they usually scheduled them for the sake of stretching out whatever was left of the budget. The rates were better on a week-night party and you knew the studio could even splurge on an open bar if they planned it well enough. You’d been to enough of these parties to know how they worked. Glitz and glamor, plenty of alcohol, lots of dancing, even more schmoozing. You giggled to yourself recalling the wild rumors and gossip that quickly spread through the last wrap party. It seems that a pair of particularly drunk party goers were caught making out in a darkened corner. It seemed that something scandalous had taken place in a hidden stairwell. Some drunken debauchery led to another pair waking up in the same bed together and at least two walk-of-shames had allegedly been witnessed by some particularly gossip loving members of the group chat that blew up your phone the next morning.

You really, really needed to watch yourself tonight. Absolutely no more than four drinks. A firm and immovable limit you would under no circumstances bend under. Four drinks and spread out thin. Maybe five if they seemed particularly watered down, but that was it. The most, the absolute most dances you would allow with him would be five. And the majority would be fast songs; not all of them slow dances. Not all of them touching each other lightly and carefully as not to sink fingertips too deep into any flesh; in the dimly lit crowded space that felt much more intimate than it had any right to. At least you should keep from staring for too long into the dark brown irises of his eyes. Two, or three, slow dances, max. You would not lose yourself in the embrace of his arms. You would not lean your head over his shoulder as his arms wrapped around your waist and the lyrics grew more romantic over the top of your heads. You would not hold your breath as you strained to listen to the sound of his heart beating inside of his chest over the sound of the music up ahead.

Your imagination quickly ran away from you and you ignored the fact that none of your math seemed to be making any sense right now.

‘Oh really? Was she, Miss Manager? I didn’t notice.’

‘Honestly, I can’t seem to see anyone else but you tonight, Miss Manager.’

‘Miss Manager … I heard that some of the staff just book a room after these parties so they don't have to drive.’

‘Do you think any of them are seeing each other?’

‘Do you think any of them are obsessed with each other?’

‘Do you think any of them are desperate for each other?’

‘Do you think any of them are like us?’

‘Miss Manager …’

‘Noona …’

‘Baby…

‘Should we just go up and get a room?’

You were giggling all alone in the back seat of this taxi. You’d forgotten yourself for long enough for a genuine snort of giggles to escape and you quickly laid a palm over your mouth to somehow catch them and put them back in.

Instinctively your eyes looked toward the cab driver and you caught a split second of eye contact with the man in the rear view mirror before he looked away with an amused grin on his face.

The hotel lobby was opulent and fancy. This was a good one. You dared to guess it was nicer than the last one, but this had been a bigger project with a bigger price tag. You were certain you’d spot an occasional cast member mingling amongst the production staff tonight; doing their due diligence; securing their next big role.

It was a grand event. You could hear the exciting sounds of the crowd inside the moment you stepped up to the foyer doors that would lead to the grand ballroom.

You were so late that it seemed the first episode had already aired. You’d missed the grand unveiling and the credits rolling. You were sure the congratulatory speeches and awards had already been passed out. There were never any such accolades for any one in your field so you didn’t really feel too bad about missing that part. You had entered the open space where larger crowds lingered. Hotel staff passed by with trays of drinks and small bites or held doors for you as you passed through doorways from spaces where people dressed to the nines just as you were, mingled; drank; laughed loudly and freely.

The stress and incredible effort of the past few months was finally let go. Smiles all around were genuine. It felt as if the culmination of a career’s worth of effort had finally amounted to something quite tangible here. The project, like countless you’d worked on in the past, had been a success. Well received by critics, audiences, and sold well to streaming services. Whispers of the next season filtered to your ears and you smiled widely to person after person; all familiar and all just as relieved by the good news as you felt.

They were all familiar in a once or twice introduced or professional acquaintance sort of way. You had yet to come across the members of your team and with as cliquey as things tended to grow after suffering together for so long, you were sure you’d find them in close proximity to each other.

You were sure you’d find another sort of familiar face amongst them. You couldn’t help the drift of your eyes over the heads of the crowds as you searched for that familiar shade of blond hair.

There were a few false alarms. That one was too tall, this one wasn’t even a man.

You heard a gasp that called your focus to your right and you’d at last found some of your team.

“Miss Manager, you look incredible!” Marci covered her open mouth with a palm and her wide eyes drifted over the length of you, her startled reaction pulled your lips into an amused grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.” She had a drink in her hands and her eyes had an excited glassiness to them. Already. You giggled when she gripped you tightly around the hand and shook it lightly and you were opening your mouth to refute her claims.

“Nah ~ I always dress up for these events.”

“Like a goddess!” She shouted over the music that had picked up in volume. She was joined by a few other team members and their eyes looked you up and down with the same sort of excited wonder.

“Sandi,” Marci shouted out over your shoulder and you turned your head toward the direction she was looking, “look at how pretty she looks tonight!” Sandi looked upon you with a quiet smile and a knowing expression behind her eyes and before long, Sandi and Marci were soon joined by some of the other girls in your team and you were quickly surrounded by a chorus of oohs and aahs. It seemed you had been just a bit later than you had expected because it was becoming evident that the drinking had been going on for quite some time already. Someone pushed a drink into your hand declaring that you needed to catch up. You were quickly caught up in the excitement and to quiet their noisy cries you raised what you knew was some sort of shot of alcohol and quickly downed it. It burned and tasted bad and someone else shoved a quarter of a lime between your lips. Tequila.

You needed to be more careful. Of all of the liquors that took your rational mind and tossed it quickly out the window, tequila was one of the most dangerous ones.

It was useless though. Everyone was too worked up and much too excited to listen to your polite declinations. This is a party, they all shouted. You’d had another shot of something else; influenced by the excitement that buzzed through them like a flu, spreading from them to you; you were too caught up. Two. You could still keep your wits about you with just two drinks.

Let’s go dance together, someone else urged. You grinned and you pushed your hands forward, promising them that you would join them as soon as you were able to. Just as soon as you made your rounds and said your greetings to your superiors. They gave small groans of disappointment that was quickly forgotten as soon as the next songs began playing in the speakers over their heads. It was a fun and popular pop song and the small group jumped up and down excitedly, abandoning you and your self proclaimed very important managerial duties that still called your name.

And you certainly would greet whoever you happened to run into. Producers and managers from other teams. You nodded politely, shook their hands and gave your sweetest smiles to some of your favorites.

Sophie Choi grabbed you tightly around the shoulders and pulled you in for a warm hug and over her shoulders your eyes scanned the room for any shades of hair that were anything other than black. You’d begun to feel just a little bit desperate the longer you looked and came up empty.

As your eyes searched they met with a pair of eyes that were indeed familiar. You pushed a smile on your lips, making absolutely certain that your expression showed not even a hint of the disappointment you were beginning to feel the longer you searched through in this place and did not find the person you were really looking for.

Ben from the marketing department gave you an almost undetectable double take and his eyes drifted over the length of you before the ultra polite professional smile quickly took over whatever look you might have imagined seeing in his eyes. Perhaps his team had pressured him into having a few more drinks that he had intended to as well. Perhaps that was the reason for the way his focus seemed to linger in places other than your shrewd, business-like eyes and co-worker-appropriate placid smile.

Ben leaned into you with his greeting, a warm hand landing just over your back as he did it. His words spoke into the space where he leaned near your ear. The music was loud, of course, he had to speak up a bit. Despite the unusually close proximity between the two of you and the warm palm that still sat quite high up on your bare shoulder, a part of you marveled at just how little thought you actually gave to anything other than the words coming from his mouth.

He was talking about work. Asking you about this new co-worker who you had sent him. This mystery man who would soon be joining his Marketing Communication team as his newest Marcom Specialist; an impressive sounding title for sure. You gave yourself the smallest internal pat on the back for pulling the necessary strings to sell Ben on such a move for your former assistant. Although it wasn’t as if Baekhyun was any stranger to blatant favoritism in this company, you still felt pretty green when it came to nepotism. Not that it was even needed. The second Ben found out who Baekhyun was, he would have agreed straight away. This man was basically guaranteed to be everyone’s boss one day.

Still, urged by your own guilt, you’d made the deal with plenty of back-end promises to owe Ben big time for this, and knowing the man, he would cash in on those favors as soon as he was met with even the slightest bit of resistance from some of the other managers. After this quick chat with Ben, you felt good about this change.

Ben was now giggling and asking about special treatment the President's son might require; his eyes not even trying to conceal the apprehension that broke through the nervous laughter that he was obviously feeling for agreeing to play host to such a high profile guest. You were quick to refute any such ideas. Your former assistant would be a valuable addition and an asset to his team. At no point in your working with Baekhyun had he ever given any sort of impression that he was even capable of using his birth as a professional advantage. Ben was lucky to have such a talented person working at his side and this was not a decision he would regret.

“I’ll admit I’m still a little bit suspicious of my new charge. But I’ll trust you for now,” he smiled genuinely with his eyes, sated for now.

Ben had always been kind. He had been great in the few instances as you’d had to work with him and he was not unattractive. Although the deeper parts of your brain tended to describe his good looks in rather clinical terms. He looked clean. He looked symmetrical. Conventionally attractive. A safe bet. Perhaps even a little boringly so. The kind of attractive looks that one might have with the occasional medical and orthodontic intervention courtesy of a pair of well-off parents who were probably still securely married to this day.

You couldn’t help the way your mind wandered. You also did very little to stop it. It was probably the alcohol's fault. You had somehow finished another drink. Looking into Ben’s harmless and clean smile you heard a judgemental whisper deep within your subconscious. Comparing this man to the other man who had a death grip on your heart and your soul and your lady parts for good measure. Ben was nice but also felt extremely sterile. Curious judgements of the man slipped in. A man like this, and you’d known a few through the years, but, a man like Ben in the bedroom would not always be a disappointment. But he would not be a triumph either.

With a man like this, a woman might even be satisfied and perhaps thirty percent of the time she might even orgasm. As long as she managed that before fifteen minutes were up of course. A man like this definitely had a time limit.

This was definitely the alcohol speaking.

“Sophie!” A familiar voice interrupted your mind's silly wandering and brought a dark shadow along with it.

You heard his loud abrasive laugh. It sounded fake and forced. The owner of that familiar voice calling for Sophia Choi was lingering close by. It was Sophie’s 1st. The very same man you’d promised your boyfriend you wouldn’t allow yourself an opportunity to spend time alone with. The man who looked you up and down with an unfiltered, animalistic look in his drunken eyes and wagged perfectly manicured eyebrows up and down as his lips pulled into something in between a sneer and a delighted grin.

Chet.

Your eyes rolled and you exhaled a slow breath.

You weren’t too much of a drinker. Occasionally and only in social settings; you rarely let loose too often outside of that. Alcohol wasn’t your first medicine of choice and in situations when others might want to drown their sorrows in something to make the mind far far away from reality; you usually made other self detrimental choices like not eating for a week until you got so dizzy you had to force down a bowl of oatmeal, or on the opposite spectrum downing a quart of ice cream until you felt so full and bloated you had no choice but to wallow in your own self curated misery.

“Chet.” Ben nodded his head, and a single eyebrow danced above his eye, “enjoying the party, I see.” Something in Ben’s tone told you that he didn’t have a very high opinion of the man either.

Chet pulled his eyes up from his blatant and obvious examination of your chest and gave Ben a two second glance with a curt nod before his focus was back on you; thankfully on your face now instead of wherever his lustful eyes had been looking.

“Miss Manager,” you heard Chet tack your name onto the end of your title and the sounds of his words had the sort of inflection that told you he had very much intended to keep talking. “That’s quite a dress. You look … very pretty tonight.”

“Doesn’t she look so pretty, Ben? Like a pretty little princess.” Chet’s words were on the surface directed at Ben but his eyes did not leave you. Although they had drifted from your face again.

“So… I was wondering, Miss Princess—” Chet’s eyes moved slowly back up into your face and the excessive way he drew out the S sounds made his words slither like a snake up the back of your spine.

Ben’s body language had changed with the off-putting new nickname and weirdly confrontational tone Chet somehow felt was appropriate to use with you.

“Whoa. Hey—” Ben had noticeably stiffened and his face pulled into a frown as he lifted a hand, palm facing outward about chest level, calling the other man out audibly for the disrespect.

“Maybe you should slow down on the drinks tonight, Man.” Like any rational person might, Ben attributed Chet’s bad behavior to an alcohol induced slip up. It was an easier conclusion to accept than the realization that maybe Chet was just an asshole who didn’t see women as real people and only showed them basic human decency when delusioned by the chance to fuck them.

Once you’d taken that off the table, Chet no longer had any reason to fake it. This was the real Chet.

His intentions toward you had taken on more transparent and obvious meaning. Had you been completely in your right mind, you might have even sensed a little danger in the darkness you saw in those eyes of his.

But as you stood now, you cared too little about this person. He was insignificant in your life. Let him throw his fit. You were simply not interested in whatever it was he felt he had to say to you and so you allowed your eyes to drift away from both of these men, giving almost no acknowledgement at all to Chet or to his greeting or to whatever the hell he was wondering about. You didn’t even give him the satisfaction of acting offended.

You could blame the loud music for not hearing him. You could blame the alcohol for giving you the nerve to turn your back and walk away from him the way you did. He could blame you for being a cold bitch for all you cared. You’d been clear with him in the past when you told him he wasn’t to speak to you unless absolutely necessary and only for work.

It wasn’t that you liked to hold grudges. It was just that you had seen his true colors already and you simply could not unsee them now.

As you left the two men behind you heard Ben’s attempts at being a rational adult. Their bickering voices quickly faded though when the crowds moved and you saw the familiar shape of a man in a deep blue suit. A man with broad shoulders so significant that you felt a warmth surge deep within your belly when your eyes landed on his back. The effect was instantaneous. It was the sudden blast of a warm shower after being caught in the cold rain. It was the warmth of the summer sunshine hitting your face as the dark clouds parted and heat penetrated every layer of your skin. He was life and happiness and joy and love and the sudden shift within your body nearly gave you whiplash with how complete and instant this transformation that happened inside of you was.

It was him. It was Baekhyun. You knew him in an instant. You’d found him.

He was standing next to your team. You saw Marci, Sandi, Ju Won, Sera, and even Sunny — your newest Assistant. He was laughing with a hand over his mouth; you heard his genuine delight and loud guffaws pierce through the crowds. His back was to you and you dropped your hand that held your empty glass hanging it down by your thigh and you simply took in the sight of him. For just a moment you allowed those feelings to fill you completely. You knew you had to be staring. You knew if someone was paying any attention to you right now they’d know without a doubt how very in love you were with this man.

The suit was fitted. Cinched at the waist and it looked designer, of course and very expensive. He filled it out very well. You could make out the strength in his back, the biceps in his arms. The plushness of his thighs below where the jacket ended. The knowledge that this man was yours bubbled up inside of your chest and you had to lift your fingertips to lightly touch over the heat you felt in your face, begging some of the flushness you felt to dissipate.

Earlier as you wandered around this busy place, greeting people you knew on a surface level it all felt very performative. You would push up your smile wide and believable. You would use your kindest and sweetest voice to speak out many compliments and it felt like work.

This though — standing here and looking at this man. The smile you felt was real. I took no effort. It took more effort to blank out your face and pretend like you weren’t looking at your person; the one that felt like home to you.

Only something was very different. The hair. His hair. No wonder you couldn’t find him earlier; you’d been searching for blond hair. He had done something new.

His hair was brown now. It looked like rich honey or dark caramel in this lighting. It was coiffed and styled up by an expert’s hand and when he turned you caught the sight of his profile. The contrast between the dark hair and his light skin, the slight pink of his cheeks and his pouty lips as he spoke; the dark eyebrows and pretty black of his eyelashes and the specks of the tiny moles on his lovely face — all of it; all of him — you were reeling. You felt frozen. You hadn't been prepared for such a drastic change. He should have told you first. He should have sent you a picture so you could get your reaction ready.

He hadn’t told you that he was going to change his hair color. Although he seemed to change it so often you really should have prepared yourself for the possibility of such a thing but everything about this felt so different.

Still the suddenness of this; the impact of how shockingly beautiful he looked with this particular up-style in this particular shade of caramel; your mind was spinning and you were having a moment in the middle of this crowded party too stunned to take another step.

You caught the moment when Sandi noticed you and she reached out a hand to touch lightly on Baekhyun’s forearm; catching his attention easily, her eyes bounced pointedly to where you stood like a statue glued to the floor behind him.

Baekhyun followed. First with his eyes and then he turned his head before he spun halfway around and he looked into your face; his eyes landing first into your own stunned ones.

The smile he had from the lively chat sank, flattened and vanished when he saw you. His eyes had a drift to them. Those deep brown irises took you in. It was an achingly slow journey from your face where his brown eyes had first sunk in with a splash. But their flighty focus slid down to the bare skin of your neck and your chest. They took their time at the deep plunge of the neckline and the peek of cleavage this dress displayed; no doubt triggering flashes of memories of his mouth and the bite marks he’d left all over your breasts that the sheer swirls of this fabric concealed. The drift of him moved again; lower and lower until you felt thoroughly consumed and had by him. He absorbed you — all of you. He did it slowly and he savored it.

This look from him, this reaction left you dumbfounded; even more so than seeing him standing there looking exactly as he should on your wedding day complete with the hair, the slight eye makeup his stylist had put on him that accentuated his beauty, the expertly fit suit in the exact shade of navy blue satin that complimented him so well and made him stand out like a goddamned god amongst mortals. That he could so affect you in absolute silence; without a word, without a single touch, with only the look in his eyes, was a wonder.

In addition to the new and sudden warmth that built up under the surface of your skin you also felt a rush of power. You very much enjoyed this feeling. This dress in all of its sparkly, curve hugging and teasingly enticing glory from the beginning to where it abruptly ended, so high up on your thighs, it just might have been worth the hefty price tag afterall. Just for this reaction from him.

You wondered at that moment if he’d dressed up for you just as you had done for him.

His eyes had made it down. His gaze was faltering and he was pushing through it. Halfway through the journey back up to once again meet your waiting eyes and now, victorious smile, his parted lips tensed and he snapped his jaw up tight with a visible clench of the muscles on his face and his chest rose with the sudden intake of air through his nose. Then he bit down on his bottom lip, furrowed his eyebrows and he pushed his eyes forcefully away from you; he looked off somewhere else; anywhere else; eyes completely devoid of any focus as he exhaled a purposefully stunted and restrained breath through his parted lips.

You knew you had to do the same. You had to blank out your expression and get rid of the lustful look in your eyes. You had to put on the falsely confident, bright as sunshine smile that did not betray any of your true feelings.

It took some doing. It took a deep breath, quite similar to the one he’d drawn into his lungs just now and you also had to look at something that was not him.

You chose the floor right in front of your feet. You shook your head a tiny bit to rid yourself of whatever leftover bits of haze might still be floating around inside of there and you forced your feet to move.

It was only two or three steps to join the group and you slipped into an empty space between Sunny and Baekhyun, looking at the other friendly faces first before you dared to look head-on into his face from this close.

There were greetings of course. Your eyes danced around the small circle quite quickly and by the time you had taken as many deep and steadying breaths of air you were going to get, you looked up into his face with an absolutely passive and non-sexually charged smile on your face.

“Assistant Byun,” you said with a tick of your face in his direction. He hadn’t been looking at you either. When you spoke his name, you saw him lick his lips, close his eyes tightly once and quickly replace the tension in his jaw with a small smile before he turned his attention to you. Your words were light and you let the surprise out of your voice as casually as you could, “you changed your hair?”

“Or I guess it’s Specialist Byun now, isn’t it?” A single eyebrow danced over one of your eyes and you ticked your head a tiny bit. His focus shifted down and as he caught the movement a look of alarm flew across his face. Those pink pouty lips parted. You watched from up close, the tiny gasp he took the moment you lifted a hand and rolled several strands of this new hair of his between your fingertips and your thumb; resisting the urge to sink your hand in deep and run your fingers through his hair; scraping the warmth of his scalp lightly with your fingernails; eliciting that low throaty moan that you knew would escape from deep within his chest when you did it.

Instead you just smiled wider, dropped your hand without even letting the pads of your fingers run down the smooth warmth of his pretty face, you just dropped your hand down, gripping the stem of this empty wine glass instead of touching any other part of his body.

“I love it like this,” you said softly with affection written all over your voice, “looks so good on you—” you added with a sudden halt at the end of your words as you realized you’d just said all of that with honey dripping off of your tongue, directing genuine compliments toward the man in the presence of at least half of your entire team. The effects of your sudden, easy, and completely out-of-character declarations left him as shell-shocked as you felt on the inside.

“Miss Manager … I’ve never seen you like this. You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?” Sandi interjected loudly from the other side of where Baekhyun stood frozen; an amused smile on her face and her eyes wide with a purposeful look that went deeper than others could catch on to.

“I also went to the salon, don’t you love my hair too?” Her lips pulled into a dramatic pout and you smiled wider, understanding that she was saving your ass right now. You leaned into it. Feeling every bit of the warmth of those alcohol shots coursing through your veins you closed the distance between you and this wonderful woman as you gripped both sides of her head with your hands and leaned in closely with a wide smile. You leaned your forehead into hers, unspoken messages of thanks written all over your eyes.

“You look so beautiful. I love it! It’s absolutely stunning!” You declared and the delighted giggles left your chest mingled and mixed with the cadence of the rest of the group's laughter. “And I am, maybe, a tiny bit drunk right now.”

“Oh she has been drinking,” you heard several relieved voices justifying your odd behavior just now. “Well — yeah, it is a party.”

“I thought he was going to faint just now.”

“I know, right. She doesn’t know the power she has over him. Poor guy didn't know what to do.” Their words were whispered in hushed asides between casual members of this small group, but you still caught them. Perhaps Baekhyun’s crush on you had only ever been a secret to you. You must have been the blindest, dimmest, worst work-aholic ever.

Marci was your next target. She was already laughing when you poked an index finger into her cheek, calling her cute as a button. Your hand was off of Sandi and you wrapped one around each of the girls shoulders and declared them both to be the most beautiful women in the room as you urged them both to join you on the dance floor. The music had picked up and more and more people had ventured out to get lost in the crowds and move their bodies to the beat of the music.

You danced and danced. Song after song played and you found yourself completely lost in this unfiltered joy; with so many of your favorite people cheering and laughing and dancing along with you. There was more alcohol that simply appeared and try as you might, you were no match for this kind of pressure.

You’d lost count.

Oh no.

You’d lost count of them.

Still, somehow you could always feel the warm arm of your Sandi by your side. She was strong, but you’d found your way to the edge of the dance floor, peering out toward the tables where a handsome man in a navy blue suit was giggling and laughing with some other men. That same handsome man was throwing back a shot of something, he was making a face and pulling a green lime out from in between his teeth and licking his lips and oh, his eyes, his eyes were darting from the faces of his friends into your own eyes again and again. He was pulling you into him.

“I’m going to dance with him,” you said abruptly to the group of women beside you. Several faces leaned in, unable to hear you over the loud music and you repeated with an evident slur in your voice, “Him. I want to dance with him. Bring him to me. I want him.” You pointed a finger toward Baekhyun and the women were all giggling. One of them was off, rushing toward where he leaned against his table resting his hands joined together over his thighs and she was leaning in close, her hand shielding her mouth as she whispered something into his ear.

His smile was wide and breathtaking. He was grinning. You’d never experienced Baekhyun in any state of intoxication before but his cheeks were pink and he was giggling as he stood up straight, pulled his suit jacket down and smoothed it over with the palms of his hands and allowed himself to be dragged by the sleeve for several feet until he was standing before you within touching distance.

You felt the palm of his hand land over your waist and you smelled the deliciousness of his cologne before you felt the heat of his cheek land over yours. He whispered into your ear.

“I heard — —- —?” A particularly loud song started. This took more than a whisper. You reached a hand up and gripped around the back of his neck, pulling his head down so you could speak loudly into his ear.

“What?” Was all you said. Less than classy and less than romantic. It had him laughing and he closed his eyes tighter as he did it. A small head shake from him preceded the tightening of his arm’s grip around your waist and he gave a rough tug. You stumbled into him and with his other hand, he reached for your face.

You felt unprepared for this. His touch. His touch here, in this place. All of these people. The stiffness you felt all over his body and the way he smelled. How much could you get away with blaming on the alcohol? That hand that touched your face reached for you, slipping around to the back of your neck, he dipped into you. With the entire length of your bodies touching you felt the hot breath from his mouth fan out over your ear and you heard the low rumble from his throat as he growled out the words for you to hear.

“You. Want. Me.”

What was he saying?

What was he doing to you in front of all of these people by saying such a thing to you in the way that he said it?

“To dance,” you shouted over the music, quite loudly, not just for him but for anyone else who might have been watching you.

Baekhyun was laughing again. Loudly. It shook his entire body and you along with it.

“That’s what I meant, silly girl.” He was pushing you deeper into the dance floor with his hands still around your waist, he simply walked forward and you were forced to step back; stumbling a few times without knowing where you were going until the tightness with which he held you around the waist grew stronger and stiffer and his body heat built as his muscles flexed. You were no longer relying on your own feet. You were being carried by these strong arms. He lifted you as he moved. The room was spinning and oh no, what if someone saw?

What if someone noticed the obvious ease and intimate familiarity with which this man handled your body?

You were deposited. The song had changed again. It was, thankfully, another lively quick tempoed pop song; one you liked quite a lot. You found the rhythm easily with his arms around you. He led you around, his eyes boring deep within yours, pushing you out with strong arms and pulling you back.

You followed where he sent you and you found yourself finally giving in. Giggling and squealing when you were spun around in a dizzying circle before you were once again caught in those arms and then, much to your absolute terror, dipped down, frighteningly fast, you were looking straight up into the strings of lights that decorated the ceiling and clawing into the fabric over his strong shoulders; holding on for dear life. Before you were dropped flat on your back in an embarrassing heap, you found the gravity had changed very suddenly and you were back on your feet with this man biting down very hard on his own lip to keep from doing something stupid like leaning in to kiss the red hot embarrassment from the surface of your cheeks.

Baekhyun was a good dancer. He made your dancing seem that much better by comparison, but really, you were simply being dragged around by someone who seemed to know exactly what he was doing. You weren’t awful. You had the basics down and easily found your footing; moving easily to the beat again and again whenever he relinquished a little bit of control over to you. You were lost in this. You never, ever wanted this to end. Devastatingly though, it did.

You were genuinely surprised and even pouting quite visibly when the song ended. It was too quick. If dancing with him was your excuse to touch him and to be held by him tonight then you wanted to dance with him for the rest of the evening.

The song had ended and you stood with both of his arms wrapped around your waist and the rhythm of his heavy breathing matched yours perfectly. You found yourself staring at his parted lips, watching the movement in them as he breathed; glimpsing the tip of his tongue that lightly touched the underside of his front teeth.

“I told you —” you heard the softest whisper from him. The words from him, desperate and careful, piled up slowly one by one inside of your head, “I might not behave myself if you looked too pretty—”

He squeezed his eyes shut and you recognized that the tightness in his arms did not let up.

“How dare you show up in this dress — how dare you — ohh, I’ve been drinking…what do — what do I do?”

His jaw snapped shut and his eyes stayed closed.

“I want to kiss you. You fit so perfectly in my arms.”

His grip was still so tight and the music had changed. The song was slow and lovely and romantic with a soft and delicate melody. Around you, the crowds began to thin as friendly coworkers who had no intention of turning into lovers began to drift away from the dance floor; back to their tables for another drink, or over to the bathrooms, or over to mingle and chat in one of the lounge areas.

“Push me away — please.” His words came as a plea through clenched teeth, “unless you want me to kiss you in front of all of these people, please push me and go. Leave me here.” He was serious. He had enough of his mind still intact to ask for help.

His words and the shift in the air had brought you out of the spell and one glance around had you making eye contact with the occasional curious observer. People were slow with it, but every now and then you would catch someone’s eyes. Why were the two of you still in such a tight embrace? What are they doing? They aren’t even moving anymore. The song ended, shouldn’t they go back to the table?

So you lifted a hand to place over his chest, giving a very light tap atop of his beating heart.

You left your hand to rest there and noticed he didn’t move. It took a slightly firmer hand, you tapped again and pushed, also taking a step back away from him.

The arms loosened and his eyes were opening. You stepped out of his embrace. He was not looking at you, but down at the empty space between his hands where you’d once occupied.

“I’ll go to the bathroom,” you offered, hanging your head slightly as you stepped quickly off the dance floor. You resisted the urge to look back until you were safely at the hallways that led to the restrooms. When you finally did turn and look back, he was nowhere to be found.

The bathrooms were impeccably clean and well lit. You spared yourself a quick glance in the mirror just to be sure that nothing was out of place and you were pleasantly surprised by what you saw. While the reflection staring back at you did take a few moments to stop looking blurry and dizzy, your professional salon makeup job hadn’t seemed to budge and your hair and dress still looked perfect. Furthermore, the soft pink glow in your cheeks and sparkle you saw shining back in your eyes seemed to make you look even better. It was the alcohol, of course.

This was it. You wouldn’t drink any more alcohol tonight. You had plenty to still feel good and you could still reasonably think well enough to avoid making any disastrous mistakes.

When you were satisfied that the danger for such mistakes had passed, you left the sanctity of that private calm space for the darkened hallway just outside. The contrast between the well lit bathrooms and the darkened hallway on the other side of the door had you struggling for your eyes to focus and with the second step you felt the telltale bump of your shoulder against a warm body.

You were quick to step aside and drop your face, uttering a quiet apology for bumping into someone but there was no response that came immediately. It only took a half a second more for you to recognize who this person was.

You smelled it first. It was kind of an acrid alcohol scent and a distinct fragrance from one of those drugstore deodorant sprays, the kinds that prepubescent teen boys spray way too much of as they wander through their high school hallways. You’d always smelled it when he demanded his greeting hugs and you smelled it now.

The realization made you exhale a low breath of irritation and you turned to leave this place and walk away from this conversation before it began.

“Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

Chet’s words slurred even more than that had earlier in the evening.

You already felt exhausted by this. “Chet, you are drunk. We are not having this conversation.”

“You avoid me now. You blocked me.” His words were filled with vitriol and his big body moved to block you off from the exit. All you cared about at this point was removing yourself from this darkened hallway and getting back into the spaces where more people congregated. “You used to be cool but now, now you’re just like … this—”

“If you have any actual, substantial complaints about working with me,” you cut him off. You didn’t want him to say something he was going to regret when he sobered up, “please feel free to contact HR in the morning and we will follow the proper channels to get this resolved. I don’t want you to speak to me outside of work — not alone.”

“Do you know how many times I bought you lunch? Only for you to blow me off like this?”

Was he serious? Was he really saying you owed him more than what you had initially thought was friendship; what you later learned was what he hoped would be something physical just because he used the company card to pay for your lunches sometimes?

His arguments were so stupid you had a physical reaction. You had been trying your best not to react to any of the idiotic things he said but this simply had you overcome. You rolled your eyes hard, crossed your arms over your chest and scoffed out loud.

“Please. Please send me a bill for your itty bitty sandwiches, Chet. I would gladly pay anything to be done with you.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. You had perhaps gone a bit far. You should have known a man like him had plenty to be insecure about. It was too late. You were already mad and the alcohol didn’t help you hold your tongue at all.

“We are done here.”

You’d had all you could stand. How dare this big oaf of a man try and ruin your fun night out. You caught a small gap between him and the wall and you ducked through the space, moving fast so he wouldn’t have a chance to react.

You'd made it four steps before you felt the sting of a strong hand grabbing hard around your wrist and yanking you backward in a fluid motion.

All of your forward momentum shifted in one instant and you spun around, yelping out loud from the sudden shock of being pulled back and also from the genuine pain you felt around your wrist. His hold didn’t let go when your motion stopped; instead he squeezed harder and the stinging pain turned into an ache as the bones in your wrist seemed to flex under the strength of his hold. You wondered how much they could take. You could hear the racing of your own heartbeat echoing loudly inside your ears and the frantic thumping made your already fuzzy mind begin to feel dizzy and unstable. The darkness in this hallway felt suffocating as the fear surged through you; taking your breath and making it shallow and ineffective and you cried out from the terror of this.

“Chet. You’re hurting me.” Your voice sounded so small to your own ears. It sounded helpless and like pleading. It scared you to hear yourself sound this way.

There was a new sound. A shuffling and a grunting sound and your eyes caught a swift blur of motion; someone else was here now. Someone was here.

Someone in blue; someone familiar. You felt a new set of hands on you, around your wrist there was a shove and Chet let go from the surprise of being interrupted. You grabbed at your own wrist and held it up to your chest watching the commotion unfold before you. If you hadn’t known him so well you might not even have known who this was. You could smell him. You could hear the cadence of his breathing and you could make out that specific shade of blue that he wore tonight.

Baekhyun moved quickly, reaching behind the man in one swift motion he grabbed for Chet’s suit jacket and pulled it up over the man’s face, blocking out whatever light he might have been able to see and disorienting him completely. Chet grunted and hollered like a stuck pig. If you hadn’t been so surprised by this you might have even laughed. You saw Baekhyun shoving hard at the man’s back as Chet tried to untangle himself from beneath the coat as he struggled to breathe, struggled to identify his attacker, struggled to free himself of his own coat, it soon became clear why your boyfriend chose this route to come to your rescue.

Chet had no way of knowing who was doing this. Baekhyun didn’t say a single word despite what you knew had to be a deep ache inside of himself to tell this rat bastard to get his filthy hands off his woman and possible go fuck himself while he was at it.

Instead he merely gave one very hard final shove at the man’s back and sent him flying through the doorway of the ladies bathroom. As the door parted you briefly got a glimpse of the chaos that ensued inside that room. A drunken tangle of a man toppled to the floor surrounded by surprised and screeching women who lifted hand bags and swatted at the unwelcome intruder as they all screamed for help. A pervert, one of them cried. The moment he broke free from the coat long enough to open his eyes into the blinding brightly lit room of the ladies bathroom he was swiftly greeted by a rough smack of a heavy purse to the face.

Gravity pulled the door closed and the shouts and shrieks grew muffled behind that door.

You felt too stunned to move. Your hands hung limply by your side and you flinched hard when you felt his warm hands reach out to grab one of them. He held you tightly by the wrist, the same one that was still sore.

“He’s done.” Baekhyun growled. “You’ll never see him or hear from him again. He is blacklisted here and everywhere else. He can shovel shit in Kabul for all I care, that’s the choice he made by putting his fucking hands on you.”

There was a grave seriousness to his voice that you had never, ever heard from him before; in your entire history of knowing him you’ve never witnessed this kind of a reaction from him.

“Baek, I,” you lightly pulled back against his arm. He was walking faster to exit the darkened hallway and put some distance between you and what had just happened back there.

“I told you. I begged you not to be alone with him. Don’t you think I know men? I know a fucking piece of shit when I see one.”

He was worked up. He was angry and cursing and he didn’t seem to hear you call his name or feel you pull against the hold he had on your arm. From the left turn he took it seemed like he was headed for one of the far off lounges where the loud music from the grand ballroom was a distant thumping echo and someone might be able to sit and talk in peace for a while in a somewhat private space.

“Baek,” you called him again a little louder. You were still being dragged and you pulled back again; a little bit harder against him. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful for him being there and intervening when he did. It wasn’t even that he was here dragging you around this place, where anyone who might not yet be drunk enough to pay attention, might see. It wasn’t even that he had a firm grip around the very same wrist that had been wrangled by Chet and it was honestly feeling just a little too sore from all the rough handling, but the part that you really began to feel was unfair, the part that had you stop your legs in their tracks and pull your hand roughly out of his hands, an action so unexpected from him that he turned around to look at you with wide surprised eyes, halfway through, and standing right in the middle of lounge that he’d brought you to; that part, that was what did it to you and made you move. Unfair. This was unfair.

You held your wrist up to your chest and covered it lightly with the other hand, took your eyes away from his questioning ones and looked around the room. There were some people. In the far left corner in the dark a couple sat with their drinks in their hands and their heads close enough for quiet whispers. On the other end, a woman sat with her cell phone in her hands as she frantically typed away on the screen.

You weren’t alone with him here.

Your wrist hurt.

Your feelings hurt.

The alcohol was making everything dizzy and fuzzy and your mood was quickly plummeting.

You didn’t like the wild anger you’d heard coming from him, and while, yes, it was justified — Chet had acted like an asshole and had definitely crossed a line, something in Baekhyun’s words had irked you. Something in the way he turned the situation around and seemed to imply that the responsibility for what happened was on you.

I told you.

I told you not to be alone with him.

I told you so.

He was right and you were… wrong?

What had you done wrong?

You felt it. It was in the burning inside of your eyes. A hot tingling that made you inhale a sharp breath and avert your eyes quickly from him.

“Do you believe that I did something wrong?” Your words came out as a barely inaudible whisper. You caught the motion of Baekhyun’s feet, you saw him take a step into you and you felt the light touch of his fingertips on your forearm.

There was a sharp intake of breath from him. You could heard it even with you looking down at the floor like this. You could hear the breath he took and the way it stuttered and shook. You heard the exhale that came after that and the small groan that came from deep inside him.

You couldn't do this here. There were people here. The last thing you needed was a breakdown. You had to close your eyes to stop it. Stupid alcohol. You knew it was making these bad feelings so much worse.

“No, no.” You heard him whisper under his breath. His fingertips were touching your skin, “shit — I didn’t —”

“I wasn’t … looking for him … I just came out of the bathroom and he was there.” Your bottom lip felt heavy. It trembled under its own weight. You pulled it in between your teeth and bit down, willing yourself to behave, willing your emotions to calm down.

“No. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry I said that.”

You were on the edge right now. Every single bit of your weak and vulnerable humanity had bubbled up right to the very rim and was threatening to crest. You were being tested and the careful control you always maintained, always begged and pleaded to keep under wraps was at its limit. You could feel it abating. You could feel yourself beginning to get on top of it the longer you stood here with your eyes closed; not saying anything to anybody and not touching anything but yourself. Not being touched by anything but the very very tips of his fingers, you could hardly even stand that much.

“I know it wasn’t anything you did.”

He needed to just wait.

“You didn’t do anything. It was him. I’m just…I’m just mad at him.”

This would pass if you just waited it out, it would pass. You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't break down here, at this party filled to the absolute brim with nearly every single person you know in your professional career.

“I’m sorry, baby. I made a mistake. I didn’t mean it about you. I don't think that about you. I don't believe that. I’m so sorry.”

You lifted a single finger and you held it suspended, begging for him to stop speaking for the sake of your own careful control. Your closed eyes were trembling and they were fighting to open; to look into his pretty face and to see the softness in those eyes that you know you heard in his voice.

Your hands were fighting too. You longed to feel the warmth of his chest against your own. You longed to slip inside his suit jacket and wrap yourself around him. But you knew, you knew you weren’t alone with him here. You knew such a thing would be too much; would push you over the edge; would destroy whatever carefully crafted self-soothing emotional control you’d been just on the verge of.

You lost the feeling of his fingertips. The shift pulled your eyes open and you looked down at his feet that hadn’t moved at all. He didn’t leave but he’d taken his touch off of you.

He was too quiet. You had to look.

You started slowly, pulling your stinging eyes up to look at his face. You could see his lips, silently waiting and closed. Motionless. Not demanding; not accusing; not judging.

You looked up into his brown eyes and he was watching your face so closely. His body stood as physically close as he thought you might allow right now and within his eyes sat a deep seated worry. The moment you looked at him, looked into his face and looked into his eyes he inhaled a breath through his nose and you caught the slight motion in his throat as he swallowed.

“Can I touch your shoulder? I won’t grab your wrist, I’m sorry — I wasn’t thinking. I’m just — we can go somewhere private — if you want me to come.” His words were so stifled and unsure you felt a fresh wave of emotions bubbling up inside of your chest. The surge must have been visible in your face somehow because he took the smallest step back and he leaned away from you, changing his plan with one sentence, “or you can just follow me,” he said in a single breath, with a tick of his face and a lift of his eyebrows.

On his mouth, in his lips, manifested the saddest nervous smile you’d ever witnessed.

You were filled with regrets for having seen it.

“Baek,” you whispered and you let your lips frown dramatically.

This was a terrible feeling. This was awful. You wanted to hold him. You wanted him to hold you.

Instead you lifted a hand, palm up and motioned vaguely beyond where he stood; sighing in defeat and lifting your eyebrows with a small shake of your head.

He silently turned around and walked further into the lounge, through a doorway that led to what looked like a sliding glass door. The wall here was lined with curtains and you figured this had to be some outside patio. You wondered how this might possibly be a private space with as many guests of this party just wandering around this area non-stop, but you kept your mouth shut when he reached inside his coat pocket, pulled out his wallet and peered inside. You saw his fingertips leafing through several business card shaped items and after a few false alarms he pulled out a small flat white card; which he held up to a spot above the door.

It beeped and the door clicked as a lock disengaged and he turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Outside was exactly as you had thought. A tiny guest patio with a single two person sized lounge chair.

You stood out here with your arms hung at your side watching him busy himself with dusting off the cushion of the seat and after he was sure it was clean enough he stood up straight and looked at you, one hand still holding the white card and the other hand motioning toward the seat; instructing you to sit down.

“What’s that?” You asked without moving your hands.

“A key,” he said flatly.

“Why does it open that door?”

“Master key.”

“Baek,” your head dipped and you blinked in his direction. He wasn’t giving you whole answers. Instead of speaking though, he opened his jaw and bit down on his bottom lip, breathing in a deep breath with a deep squint forming on his eyes as he looked off in the distance. After a few seconds he slowly exhaled the breath and he gave up on standing; lowering himself onto the seat.

“My key,” he said softly with his jaw hung upon after the final syllable. He inhaled again, “my hotel.”

You watched his face for signs of truth. You did not think it was possible for him to continue to surprise you with these bombshells again and again, but here he was sitting before you, a genuine member of some royal family you hadn’t even realized existed. It was too much. Just like the mansion and the staff that followed his every order, it was entirely too much.

You closed your eyes up and felt the remnants of wetness drip down your face. From the upset feeling from earlier, apparently.

You wiped the stray wetness with your fingertips and looked back down for any signs of the color black, or maybe evidence that all of your makeup had been ruined by these unsanctioned tears.

When you looked at him again he was watching you; holding his tongue well as you sniffled whatever bits of the emotions away and blotted at your face again with the back of your hand.

“Do I look like a mess?” You asked through the sniffles.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said without even giving your question a chance to settle. He answered without thinking about the questions or considering the answer, he answered on instinct and the rapid fire response brought out the smallest chuckle from deep inside your lungs. He couldn't even see your face. It was dark out here.

“I spent four hours at the salon. Hair and makeup and waxing and plucking — and I’m crying now. It’s all ruined.” Your low-down mood had lifted some with the sudden compliment. You knew he couldn't even really see you and yet, hearing him say it still had such a strong effect on you.

“Nothing is ruined. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

”I just wanted to look pretty,” you added with a slight whine in your voice now. It was the alcohol for sure. It was the fact that you hadn’t seen him all day and when you did, you had been surrounded by people who shouldn’t ever know this true side of you. It was the way he was looking at you with the smallest smile building on his lips, looking like the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen in his suit and tie, with his super shiny shoes on his feet and the hair, my God, the hair.

“You do look very pretty.”

You gripped at the bottom of your sparkly dress, looking down at it and marveling at how even with the limited lighting out here, it managed to grab a hold of a few far off distant lights from the city skyline and shoot them back at you when you moved just right.

“Did you see my dress? Isn’t my dress pretty too?”

You were playing now. He knew it too. It seems that the crisis had passed and getting this alone time with him had been the best medicine for your rotten mood from earlier. After you asked this final question he looked at you with another tiny smile playing on his lips. He didn’t speak right away and just blinked his eyes at you as you swayed just a little so the sparks in the dress could catch his eye the right way.

“I feel like you didn’t really see it,” you said softly mostly to yourself and you lifted a hand to showcase the many beautiful features of it for him.

His smile was growing.

“See,” you pointed with a fingertip to the high slit that showcased your upper thigh; then you spun halfway and lifted an arm, pointing to the spot on the side of your ribs just below your breast where just a bit of side boob was visible.

His jaw parted and you saw the tip of his tongue brush over the surface of his bottom teeth and his eyes rolled with the wider smile that broke through on his face. He looked away, across the empty view and seemed to focus on the other floors of the building next door.

“Oh and this,” you motioned with both hands behind yourself, just above your ass where the small of your back was visible thanks to the low cut of the back of the dress.

“You’re right, I didn’t really get to see it up close.” He was still seated on the chair, possibly for survival. His hands were fisted tightly together in his own lap and he didn’t reach for you or even try and touch the fabric of the dress.

You could feel it though, the way he gave into you; humored you. The way he let you play this little game you were playing. You smiled and took the three steps needed to reach him and he leaned back casually in his seat with a finger lifted to his face as his eyes took you in from up close.

“Look,” you went through the motions again. Starting up high on your thigh, running your fingertip up the entire inside length of the slit, and even making a few strands of jewels sparkle as you did it.

“Mhmm,” he said with his fingers still covering his mouth in deep consideration. His self control even while a little bit drunk was admirable.

“And here,” you spun, showing off the cut-out in the side. His head was nodding and his blinking slowed down a little. He pursed his lips out and he did a good impression of someone who looked thoroughly impressed by your little show.

“I..” he leaned forward just a little, cleared his throat before he continued — “ahh…I don't umm… don’t think I see a bra strap.”

You clapped your hands in excitement.

“Actually!” He flinched.

While on the surface this was an excellent observation from a man who was probably fishing for a sneak peak of your undergarments or lack thereof, but you were wearing something new and you were quite excited about it.

You leaned to the side, and slipped the dress open just a tiny bit. Baekhyun’s eyes widened and he peered his head to see around the side of the fabric.

“I have these little … stickers,” you said it with pride, “for my nipples,” as if you’d accomplished something fantastic tonight with the pasties that covered your nipples so that nobody got a glimpse of anything too noteworthy from this dress tonight.

His eyes were wide and his lips were open. It took him a minute to move. He leaned back again and ran his open palm down the length of his face as his eyes pulled off of you and all of your sparkles and your bare thighs and your nipple stickers and he stared across at the building next door again.

You followed his eyes and the longer you looked the more you focused on each individual window; each space; each tiny world.

You could see the occasional room that was lit up. These were homes. You could clearly see a few of the residents watching tv; sitting at a kitchen table, reading books. You could see details. You could see plenty.

A sudden realization dawned and you gasped lightly.

“Those apartments are all full of people.”

Baekhyun hummed a response and he nodded his head, closing his eyes through the nod. “Yep,” he said. There was a sense of misery you could pick up in the delivery of that single word.

“I can see them.”

”Mhmm,” he hummed. “And they can see us.” He added with a sharp inhale after speaking.

You suddenly understood his standoff-ish reaction to you giving him the grand tour of this dress and your body below it. You understood how he could possibly keep his hands from touching any bit of you.

“We need to go back to the party. We’ve been gone for too long.” You said the words so easily but you didn’t actually move one bit. You stood still, looking down at the man who was fighting his own internal battle; sitting with his hands secured firmly in his own lap and staring blankly ahead of himself into the black of the night.

He blinked but did not respond to you. You kicked your feet just a little, reaching a sparkly high-heeled foot forward you lightly kicked at the sole of his dress shoe.

“I’m leaving now,” you threatened.

Baekhyun closed his eyes.

“You’re just going to let me go, huh?”

You counted inside of your head; completely fine with the idea of blaming this behavior on the alcohol. Even though you knew this was unfair to him. He was your only savior tonight, again and again. The voice of reason in spite of yourself.

You spun on your heels, ready to go and you’d taken the first step away from him when you felt the warmth of his hand wrap securely around your wrist and he pulled you down hard.

You stumbled and you fell and you landed with a yelp and a huff securely on top of his lap, rather clumsy and side-saddle for sure, but definitely within touching and kissing distance.

You turned your face to look at him, not quite expecting the darkness that sat deep inside his eyes to hit you straight in the chest with as much force as it did, but hit you it did. You had to open your lips to breathe through it; you had to reach out a hand to touch his lips lightly and you had to blame the alcohol, you had to. There was no other excuse you could cling to; no other reason for your leaning in and capturing his lips in between your own and touching his cheek with your wandering hands. You had no excuses you could find for why you shifted your weight on top of his lap and straddled his thighs, throwing your head back when his lips moved to bite down hard on the bare skin of your neck and lower.

He moved lower. His mouth sucked and bit and he pushed fabric aside to pull lightly at those damn stickers that covered your nipples with his teeth. You felt the sting as the glue pulled at your skin. They didn't budge much. You were suddenly even more impressed by them.

“Not my stickers,” you whispered “I only have the two,” and you wanted to blame the alcohol for the snort of laughter that escaped your chest to hear yourself utter such an absurd thing in the middle of this kind of a moment but the stifled shaking giggles you heard from the man who sat below you only made your own laughter that much worse.

”Not my precious stickers,” he whispered through the giggles that were barely audible through the fabric he was buried beneath.

When he came up for air the smile you saw on his face was breathtakingly real and when you leaned down to kiss him again you bumped against his teeth when you were taken by the giggles again, mid-kiss.

It took a while for you to recover and after the laughter finally settled you leaned down for one more sweet kiss on his pretty lips.

“I feel like I can make it back to the party now,” you said. His wide smile slowly but completely flattened out in front of your eyes. You pushed up against him, leaving behind the full effect you’d had on him right there for him to come to terms with and he stared at you with a look of utter shock.

“We can’t do that here, Baek,” you pointed toward the rows of homes across the way and his wide eyes looked where you pointed without seeing anything at all.

“You—,” he began, a full tone of attitude on his voice that he quickly interrupted by cutting off his own words.

“You.” He repeated again. You could see it happening. Dreams being crushed. Egos being put to bed. Justice not being served and revenge being planned. He shook his head and threw himself back into that chair with a force and crossed his arms squarely over his chest.

You were already at the door, pulling it open after straightening your dress back out and smoothing your hair.

“I’m getting those stickers later!” He shouted behind your back and you laughed once and threw your hand up into the air before the door closed shut behind you.

[To be continued]

Links: Can I Stay?: Masterlist

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo smut #baekhyun #exo fic #exo scenario #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo story

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alatushours · 4 months

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☆ 731 DAYS, featuring xiao — time flew by when he was with you. who would’ve thought it had been two years already?

contents. gender neutral reader. fluff n' marriage, partly written from xiao's pov? very selfship-coded, just xiao reminiscing the past with you ♡ word count. 879

notes. hi guys ik you’re probably getting sick of all the xiao content which im so sorry about but i had to bc today is my two-year anniversary with xiao <3 plus it’s the first post of the new year so ofc i had to write for him ! it’s shorter than most of my other xiao posts tho so hopefully you all won’t find it to be too boring …

glittering stars twinkled across the moonlit sky as the vigilant yaksha stood at the balcony of the wangshu inn, gazing towards the liyue plains beyond. he was waiting for someone; a certain person that he'd met right on this balcony what hadn't even felt that long ago.

it was certainly far more difficult circumstances back then; liyue was struggling from the loss of their archon, and he was left to pick up the pieces. up until then, the adeptus never thought he would find peace for himself. that was, until you came into his life.

the sound of footsteps creaking on the wooden staircase snapped him out of his thoughts. he would recognize those footsteps anywhere; that, and the familiar voice that exclaimed, “i’m back!”

xiao turned from where he stood, a tiny hint of a smile forming on his lips as he greeted his lover. “i was waiting for you, qingxin.”

there you stood with a sheepish grin on your face, plate of almond tofu in hand. "sorry, i got held back a bit from work. i made dessert for you, though.”

your husband pressed a kiss to your lips. “thank you, dear. it’s been a while since i’ve had a taste of your cooking.”

he turned his head away, voice lowered. “i’m sorry for making you come over to the inn instead of our home, but i wanted to meet with you here tonight.”

you nodded, reaching forward to grasp his hand in yours. “i know why. it’s a special place, and today is a special day, right? for you, for me, for us.”

xiao didn’t reply for a moment. “…‘the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?’ that’s what you told me at this same spot, two years ago.” do you still remember the events of this day back then?”

“of course i remember.” you walked towards the edge of the balcony with xiao in tow, leaning against the railing. “the lantern rite was in full swing this time of year. i wanted to watch the fireworks with you, so i came over the wangshu inn with some tofu.”

“but i was off fighting monsters,” xiao remarked. “i apologize to have kept you waiting for so long that night.”

“no, but that’s what made the moment special, y’know?” you smiled at the memory. “i waited here in this spot for what seemed like hours, calling out your name. the sun had already set when i arrived, and at one point keqing even told me i was going to miss the celebration if i stayed here and tried to drag me off.”

you turned to face him, and xiao nearly lost his breath. “but then you came.”

you looked ethereal standing there, bathed in moonlight, the serenest of smiles on your face.

“i did,” he replied, squeezing your hand. “and that was the moment my life changed forever.”

“for the better, or for the worse?” you joked.

he flicked your forehead. “don’t ask such dumb questions, silly.” xiao looked up towards the sky, the moon high up in the sea of stars. “it’s just the same, isn’t it…”

the conditions that night been exactly the same as this; except the sky had been lit up with fireworks two years ago. the same year that he had kneeled on this balcony, confessing his love for you as colorful sparks lit up the sky.

“will you marry me, y/n?”

“the same as what?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder.

the adeptus shook his head. “nothing, just thinking out loud.” he looked down towards the first floor of the inn, where traveling merchants were still strolling about. “a shame the lantern rite doesn’t start until later this year. we could have watched the fireworks show together again.”

“i thought the vigilant yaksha hated the lantern rite,” you teased him. “is the conqueror of demons getting soft, hm?”

xiao slapped your arm in protest. “shut up.” he looked away, grumbling. “i only said so because i know you enjoy the display, mortal.”

you laughed, a sound that was music to his ears. “you’re so silly, xiao.” you smiled and gave him a kiss. “that’s okay, the stars are enough of a show for me.”

“is it now?” he pressed another kiss to your lips, one hand running through your hair. “well then, i know the perfect place where we can watch the stars.”

you followed his hand as it pointed up towards the roof.

“yippee!”

as you settled down to stargaze, his arms wrapped around your waist so you wouldn’t fall, xiao couldn’t help but think to himself how lucky he was. he had always thought his karma meant he couldn’t feel happiness, but now you had come into his life, and for the first time he felt at peace. as if he could finally be happy, after a millennia of suffering.

yes, in some ways being immortal was a curse; but it was also a blessing, for if he was just a mere mortal long ago he wouldn’t have met you. the light of his life, his love. xiao was so glad to have you with him these past two years, and the adeptus promised himself that he would never leave your side, until forever do us part.

end notes. guys once again i’m sorry for writing so much xiao stuff lately :( he was my first birthday letter i received and also my first double 5 star pull so um he has a special place in my heart if you can’t already tell… i promise i wont write him for a while after this !! need to get some neuvi and tighnari content out here too ! ! but i hoped you guys liked it <3

#໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა mari writes !#xiao x reader #xiao fluff #genshin impact xiao

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mayullla · 1 year

Text

Title: Your new home at Hawks's apartment

Characters: Hawks / Keigo Takami (Mainly), Miruko (My Hero Academia/BNHA)

Summary: After Hawks adopted you, you were shown to your new home a luxurious apartment that belongs to the pro hero Hawks.

Warnings/tags: Slowburn platonic yandere, fem!child!reader, smidge agnst, reader has a "healing" quirk, the obsessions themes are not obvious here but will happen at one point so just in case I am putting this here Note: Kind of a part 2, if you want to see part 1 head over to the list!

Little healer here! list

Your tiny gasp as he leaped from the window of his apartment. Delighted you were laughing as you held on to his neck tightly as he told you but not enough to choke him.

"MISTER-SAN IS SO COOL!!!" You shouted at him as you looked down at the tiny buildings. You are so high up in the sky! Hawks was holding you in his arms as you two flew across buildings and houses.

You were so high up people looked like ants when they use to be so tall. Everything was so yellow.

"Hold on tight, kid and don't take of that mask it will be hard to see if you remove it."

The first place he went to was his agency. Everybody greeted him casually yet when they saw you almost everyone froze. They were so quick to assume that you were his daughter by blood.

"Was that why you left a few days?! To get her??"

"How come you haven't told us anything about you having a daughter!!"

"Why didn't you say anything!! She is sooo cute!!"

"What about the news articles?! What am I supposed to say here!!"

Hawks had to quickly silence them and explain to them that you were adopted and not his real "real" daughter. And when he wanted to introduce you to them it seemed that you have disappeared from his side to behind his leg. The suddenly loud voices surprised you a bit and when all of the people's eyes were on you you can't help but hide even more.

Why are you so cute??

"She wasn't this shy before... probably cause there are way too many people here. Come one kid introduce yourself."

Hawks had to slowly help you out into introducing yourself to his agency, shyly you told them your name almost hesitant when you said Keigo's family name. Dear really why are you so adorable?? The whole agency was practically cooing over you at how cute you were.

Almost instantly you were given soo many sweets and candies by everyone that you needed a plastic bag to carry them all. Keigo casually took the bag later unable to bare laughing as he watched you struggle to carry the plastic bag as big as you.

"Would you look who it is! Hawks!" You looked to your side to see a woman with bunny ears and the most mischievous smile. "Are you back from your holi-"

The woman looked at you surprised and you looked at her surprised, the both of you made eye contact. "So who is the unlucky woman you la-" "Shut up."

Hero name Mirko also known as Rumi Usagiyama, Hawks was quick to introduce the both of you also explaining that he had adopted you. "Ehhh what made you think you wanted to become a father so fast?" Mirko smirked at him crossing her arms. Keigo rolled his eyes.

"So little bunny, how is it living with pro hero Hawks?" Mirko asked squatting right beside you to get to your height. You looked at her rabbit ears curiously "It is fun! Mister-san is super nice and funny. He also made the best pancakes I ever tried!" You told her with enthusiasm.

"She is so cute, how the heck did you find her?" Mikro asked Keigo as she played with your cheeks. Squishing both of them, so puffy but still could use a little more fat in them. "Jealous?" Hawks huffed, a smirk on his face.

Mirko was about to say a witty comeback before she felt something odd in her arm. Fast she let go of your face jumping back, high alert as she looked at you cautiously. You covered your cheeks pouting adorably.

You did something, Mirko had dropped her guard just a little for a moment there while chatting with you. She felt as if something entered her veins.

"What did you do kid?" Mirko asked glancing at her hand. It was a strange feeling almost as if something was crawling in her veins. It wasn't uncomfortable, almost warm but... unfamiliar. "Mirko-san had a cut on her arm that looks painful." You grumbled.

Mirko quickly checked the cut it was true that she had a cut on her arm after some fight with villains this early morning. It wasn't really serious and she planned on getting it treated later but it was gone, all that was left was a thin line that told her it was not from her own imagination.

"Little Birdie here had a quirk that heals, she healed me when I got into a little trouble with some villains," Hawks explained, with a smirk this time on his face. "Her skills if trained properly can be on par with recovery girl's skills if not better."

The tension soon died down as Hawks explained how you and he meet and Mirko and Hawks started shooting jabs at each other. Mirko thanked you for healing her giving your head a little ruffle.

"She is so cute plus she can heal! Hey. Give little bunny to me I will be a better caretaker than you."

"In your dreams."

You and Keigo soon took your leave heading to the mall to buy a few things more for you and your room that he asked most to be delivered back. After heading to the market and buying some groceries you and Keigo started to head back to his apartment.

"Mister I wanna ask you something." You were sitting on his shoulders as you held on to his head. "Hmmm?" Keigo grunted allowing you to continue.

"You must be honest with me!" You looked down at him. Keigo wondered why you were asking this but nodded his head. "Did Mister adopt me because of my quirk?"

Unconsciously he paused mid-step unable to answer for a moment needing to think a little. But it seemed that his silence was enough for you to understand what was going on.

"It is fine Mister." You told him placing your small head on his head, "I understand." You told him.

You didn't give him a chance to answer.

It was something that maybe you may have come to expect seeing that your tone wasn't surprised at all. And somehow it surprised Keigo a bit at this reaction... would he call it mature he was sure but it left a guilty feeling, you were at such a young age but you didn't expect much from him...

It gave an ugly feeling inside.

And a certain fear that you have closed yourself from him now.

But what can he do now?

Your actions were the same as yesterday when you got to the apartment but even he knew how you weren't as talkative as yesterday. Silently going to bed after telling him how fun today was as it was your first time going to the arcade and that you will save enough tickets to get a friend for Mr. Hawks the hawk plushie. That you were thankful for the books and colored pencils that he got you. Especially that red bow pin that you told him looked like a red butterfly.

You didn't ask him to stay beside you while you go to sleep instead you were the one to close the door to your room when he thought that he must follow to keep you company.

It was hard for Keigo to sleep that night.

Too quiet.

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sachiko1309 · 24 days

Text

Dont look at me like that

Summary: Cory and Spock retreat into his meditation room after a very stressful day. Taking slow steps, both are equally surprised with the sudden need for intimate affection

Word count: 6011

Warnings: smut, rough smut, fluff, teasing, slight Dom! Spock, fingering, minors DNI this contains adult content!

If you are interested: @mystery-star 😉

Later, Spock and I were in his meditation room. I had stopped by my quarters and changed into loose pants and a loose shirt after I showered. Spock wore a new set of uniform, but his hair was a bit messed up and still slightly damp. Meditating this time seemed to be easier, and I managed to calmly reflect over the events of the day. I had to break out several moments, but I was able to find my way back in without Spock needing to really assist me.

I don’t know how long we had been in here, but I felt much calmer afterwards. Leaning against the wall, I waited for Spock to finish his meditation. It was fascinating to see him this calm and focused while vulnerable and relaxed at the same time. His breathing was slow and steady, the back rigid and straight, while he sat cross-legged on the floor. I took the time I had, taking in his features. The high brows giving his calm expression a touch of thoughtfulness. He looked beautiful, like a painting, the dim light accentuating the dark beard shadow perfectly.

“You are staring.” He suddenly said and I nearly shat my pants. My heartbeat quickened to the point where I could feel it thrumming against my ribs, as my hand flew to my chest. “Fuck me…” I breathed out, slowly calming down from the shock. He raised an eyebrow, a smug smile twitching in the corners of his lips. “Careful of your requests, t’hy’la.”

Looking at him with wide eyes, I tried to figure out how to take his words, but his poker face made it impossible for me to read his thoughts. Sighting I gave in: “What?”

“Careful of your requests, t’hy’la.” He simply repeated without changing his expression or the way he said it. I threw my hands in the air. “I heard what you said. I wanted to know why.” To this he hummed, opening his legs and stretching his body. “Because I can.”

“This is not helpful at all.” I groaned, scowling at him, which made his grin growing even more. “I know.” He said. I grabbed a pillow throwing it at him. “You are an asshole.” He caught the pillow with ease, putting it aside, looking me up and down. I could feel how his eyes scanned the curves beneath my shirt and I got painfully aware that I had not put on a bra.

Slightly changing my position to hide it, I took a deep breath. “What does it even mean? The word you used to I believe address me?” His eyes snapped back up to my face, the pupils widened, as he thought for a second. “It is a pet name in Vulcan. It means something like lover, darling, sometimes friend.” He answered and I nodded. “Say it again. It sounds beautiful.”

“What? T’hy’la?” He put a slight drawl to it, dragging out the second syllable. I hummed in pleasure, crawling closer to him, stopping between his legs and sitting back on my knees. Instantly he reached out for me, his hands landing on my hips pulling me closer to him. I gave in to his demand, letting him drag me over his lap. Now I was sitting very close to him, my knees left and right from his hips, while he leaned against the wall. My breathing went faster, and I felt hotness wash over my body.

He didn’t move. Just held me in place with his big hands, while his eyes took me in. “Du nam-tor vaksurik. Ni vaksurik.” He mumbled, before he pulled me in, pressing his lips onto mine. His hand wandered to my neck, holding me in place, while the other stroked the lower side of my back, fingers slipping under my shirt every now and then. Out of reflex, I arched my back, pressing my chest against his. Completely dwelling in the warmth his body was radiating.

My hands wandered to his shoulders, fisting the fabric of his shirt between my fingers, trying to pull me even closer. When he realized, I was completely giving in to his touches, he became bolder, letting his left hand completely slide under my shirt, resting it against the upper part of my waist. His boldness made me shiver, causing me to shift on his lap. And when my core rubbed over his, he let out a low animalistic growl. The grip of his hands grew harder, and I moaned into the kiss. That was it for Spock. Without letting go of me, he flipped us over, burying me underneath his tall frame.

Then he broke the kiss, leaning on both of his elbows, while he looked down on me. I just stared into his dark eyes. In the dim light of the room his blown pupils made his eyes look almost black. He stopped what he was doing, silently searching my eyes for any discomfort, but I pulled him down again. Capturing his lips with mine, while I let my hands run along his body, fiddling his shirt out of his pants. Slowly I pulled it upwards, giving him time to stop my actions, but he didn’t. Instead, he broke the kiss, pulling the shirt over his head himself.

I stopped, taking in, what I was seeing. Like I already expected in our sparring session, he was lean and toned. His chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, the muscles in his arms and chest twitching as he moved his body around. “Lord have mercy…” I mumbled openly staring at him. His eyes snapped back to mine, a sly smile on his lips. Turning away under his strong gaze, I felt myself blush. “Don’t look at me like that.” I whispered, which made him chuckle. “You were the one staring.” He retorted, leaning back on his heels.

Letting his hands wander over my thighs, he shifted our position. I was still laying on my back, but he sat there pulling our hips flush against each other, wrapping my legs around his hip, while he spread his legs apart. His hands began to wander, slowly exploring my body, watching me twitch, when he reached sensitive areas. He stroked my thighs, my sides, over my stomach, grabbing my hips. Over time he pushed my shirt higher, expanding the region of naked skin he touched.

I let my eyes fall shut, relishing in his soft strokes and the goose bumps emitting over my body. Suddenly his fingers stopped at my ribcage and I opened my eyes again. “May I?” He asked and I nodded, lifting my upper body a bit for him to take off my shirt and reaching for a pillow for my head.

His gaze was now fixated on my chest, his jaw tightening. “You are so beautiful, t’hy’la.” He groaned, carefully letting his hands touch my breasts. I watched him, how he took in every curve of them, gripping them, feeling their weight. But when his thumbs stroked over my nipples, I let out a moan, arching my back slightly to not lose connection to his hands. Me moaning made his gaze snap up. “Do it again.” He growled, stroking over my nipple again, this time also adding more pressure.

“Fuck…” I moaned, closing my eyes. My mind started to get foggy and I wanted him to do more. Without thinking twice, I was already speaking: “Please, Commander… I want more.” The hands on my body stilled and I ripped my eyes open to reveal Spock staring at me with a mixture of stunned confusion and desire. “Commander…” He repeated. “Is that why you call me by my title when you tease me? Because you find it… find it arousing for me to have it?” I turned my head to the side, but a hand on my chin, turned it back, forcing me to look at him. “Yes… Kinda.” I answered, making him even more intrigued. “Explain it to me then.” He demanded.

“Its difficult to explain.” I started, letting my eyes wander everywhere but to the half naked Vulcan staring at me. “Its partly because it is funny to see you tense, when I call you by your title and partly because I want you to act when I do. Whenever you use that commanding voice… I don’t know it kinda gets to me. And then I imagine what it would be like, if you would use it in a different setting.”

“You want me to order you around?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Partly. Yes.” I whispered, feeling the blush creep up my cheeks again.

“What else?” He pressed on.

“I have a thing for men in uniform. Powerful and dominant men. I like it when they are rough with me.” I confessed, my voice getting quieter and quieter the more I said.

But Spock understood me nonetheless, the look in his eyes changing rapidly. When at first, he seemed confused and taken aback, he was now slowly getting the hang of what I meant, a wicked smile forming on his lips. “Who would have known the mean Lieutenant Cory Monroe needs a man to put her in place…” He mused and I tried to hit him, but he caught my fist entwining it completely with his big hand. Clicking his tongue, he tilted his head. “Careful, t’hy’la.” His voice was thick with tease and lust, sending shivers down my spine.

“Make me.” I said, challenging him with a confident look in my eyes. In hindsight I maybe shouldn’t have said that, because the second I spoke the words, he moved. To quick for me to fully comprehend what was going on, he flipped me over onto my stomach, kneeling above me. His thighs caging in my smaller frame, while he leaned on his forearms, his head inches away from mine.

“Are you testing me, ashayam?” He growled next to my ear and I let out a sound that was something between a moan and a squeal. The body heat he was radiating was enormous and I couldn’t help but press up against his chest, humming at the warm feeling spreading through my body. He got the hint, forcing me down with his whole body. As soon as his chest pressed me down, I relaxed, turning my head and closing my eyes, when his lips wandered across my neck.

He started to kiss down my back, letting his fingers glide along my sides, sending shivers down my spine and I bucked my hips against his. He hissed and stilled his movements, while pressing me down on the small of my back. Immediately I submitted to his hand, fighting the tingly feeling his fingers triggered so close to my waistband. “Please, Commander.” I whined wriggling underneath his hold. And as soon as the words left my mouth, he sprung back to action, shifting his position between my legs, he turned me around, looking at me with hungry eyes. “Are you sure, t’hy’la?” He asked, his voice strained with restraint. “Absolutely.” I nodded, looking him deep into the eyes.

Not wasting any more time, he simply grabbed my pants and pulled them down, regarding them to the side. Now I was completely naked before him, the weight of the situation slowly creeping into my mind. I swallowed hard, trying to fight down the stress and fear I felt. One look at my face and Spocks demeanor changed. He leaned back over me, capturing my lips with his. “Don’t fear me, ashayam. I wont hurt you, I promise.” He mumbled against my lips and I couldn’t help myself but cockily ask: “And what if I want you to?”

“Then you will learn what it means to tease your Commander, little one.” He growled into my ear. His rough voice sent shivers of ecstasy down my body, collecting between my legs. “Yes please…” I moaned, spreading my legs subconsciously. He chuckled kissing down my neck. “You are already so needy, and I haven’t even started, yet. How do you think you will survive me actually doing something to you?” His hot breath fanned over my breasts, a short lick of his tongue on my nipple following soon.

A jolt of pleasure ruptured through my body and I hummed, while my hands flew to his shoulders holding onto him. He sucked my nipple back into his mouth, while he started to toy with my other breast. The sensation he sent through my body was marvelous. Pure bliss and lust started to burn in my body and pool between my legs, to a point, where I became uncomfortably aware of my horniness. I tried to press my thighs together for some friction, but his hip between them stopped me from getting my release. So, I just wrapped my legs around him and pulled him closer. He didn’t expect my move, so his hips pressed against my core.

At the contact both of us let out a moan and I couldn’t help myself but roll my hips against his thigh. Instantly, his hand wandered from my breast to my hip, stilling my movement, which let me cry out desperately. “Shush, little girl.” But I wasn’t happy with it. Huffing I let out a breathy: “Please, Commander.” To which he finally gave in. Leaning his body weight onto one arm, he let the fingers of his right hand slide across my hipbone until he reached my core.

Looking me deep into the eyes, he let two fingers slide between my folds, a cocky smile spreading over his lips, when he realized how wet I already was for him. Spreading my slick around, he slowly began to insert one finger, watching intently, how I fought against my eyes falling shut. My body was in sensory overload. The marvelous feeling of finally gaining some release mixed with the anticipation of what was about to happen and the deep desire in his eyes.

“Oh God yes…” I whimpered, my knees falling apart. Slowly he added another finger, stretching my walls with soft little thrusts. Soon his thumb found my clit, just sitting on top of it not moving at all. “Open your eyes, ashayam.” He gritted out and I complied. His gaze was strong, teeth clenched and it took me a while to realize, that him fingering me was probably more intense for him as for human men. To test my theory, I clenched around his digits, pulling a string of Vulcan curses from his lips.

Of course, he realized why I did it, his gaze immediately changing from lustful to hungry. He shifted his weight a little bit, until his mouth was directly on top of my nipple. Looking me deep into the eyes, he sucked it into his mouth simultaneously circling his thumb over my clit. I couldn’t help myself but let out the most sinful moan I had ever produced, instantly clasping a hand in front of my mouth, eyes darting at the door.

But Spock didn’t seem to spend one thought on our surroundings. He completely focused on me, changing the rhythm of his fingers massaging me to fit the soft circles his thumb painted onto my clit, while he gently sucked on my nipple.

The feelings rising in my core didn’t take long to overtake my brain and I gave up fighting against the pull in my core. All I wanted was Spock to touch me, to fuck me. And I grew desperate for his cock. “Spock please…” I whined, rolling my hips against his hand, but he just chuckled: “Don’t worry, ashayam. We will get there. But for now, I want to feel you around my fingers. See how good I make you feel.”

I cried out in a mixture of frustration and lust washing through my body at his sinful words. Slowly I could feel the tension in my core tightening, my body losing control more and more, giving in to his touches. My breathing went irregular, interrupted by moans and desperate attempts to form straight sentence. But there was no winning this fight. Spock knew far to well how to play my body. His long and skillful fingers mercilessly dragging me towards my orgasm.

He let go of my nipple, leaning upwards and capturing my lips in a heated kiss. It felt like he put all his desire and love into it, because it was so passionate and demanding, that I didn’t think twice, submitting to him immediately. My body relaxed under his presence and that’s when it suddenly hit me. With a force I wasn’t anticipating, my orgasm crashed into me. I clenched around his fingers, my back arching, while his name fell in a moan from my lips. It felt like I was losing control over all my muscles, because my legs and lower stomach started to twitch uncontrollably.

In the back of my head, I noticed him slowing his movements and slightly leaning back, but it took me several seconds to start to calm down and get control over my brain again. And when I looked up, I was met with the most loving eyes a man has ever looked at me with. My hands flew to his neck, pulling him down and hooking my legs around his waist. He pulled his fingers out of my core and I reached for his hand, guiding it towards my lips. Looking him deep in the eyes, I sucked them into my mouth, letting my tongue circle around his digits, licking my slick from them. He looked at me, like he was about to fall apart, so I didn’t stop, until he started to shiver above me and closing his eyes in slow blinks.

And then suddenly he tensed up, a low growl rolling through his chest, followed by several Vulcan curses. His fingers inside my mouth clenched, forcing me to slightly gag, but I just moaned at the feeling of him shoving them down deeper into my throat. Then he opened his eyes again, pulling his fingers out of my mouth with a slight plop. He leaned back on his knees, his head falling backwards, chest rising in rigid breaths. “That felt… intense…” He mumbled after a while and I raised an eyebrow. “Intense? I didn’t do anything.” I wondered, to which he let out a sharp breath, looking at me with a sarcastic smile.

“Nothing? You sucked on my fingers. Practically giving me a blowjob after I fingerfucked you.” He groaned, still trying to gain control over himself again. I stared at him speechless: “I… What?” He just nodded. “Its exactly what I said. You were not the only one coming, ashayam.” I gasped, a smile creeping onto my cheeks. “That’s… that’s fucking hot. And interesting to know.” Then my smile grew teasing. “Even though I am kinda bummed to hear I wont get you railing me ruthlessly into the floor.”

At my words his eyes snapped open, a cocky smile forming on his lips. “Give me a few minutes and I will show you how I will fuck you into the floor.”

I looked at him stunned to hear him use such filthy words, but he didn’t give me any time to completely react to his words. Instead, he grabbed my right ankle, flipping me onto my stomach once more. He forced himself between my legs, pressing me down with his body. “You are my little girl.” He whispered into my ear, sinking his lips onto the pulse point underneath my ear. Pressing soft kisses onto my neck, he rolled his hips against my ass, making me buck against him.

Blindly I felt for his hands, letting his big hand entwine mine. He leaned on his elbows, pinning my hands to the floor, while he caged me in with his hot body. Suddenly he bit down on my sweet spot, growling when I squeaked his name breathlessly. I realized the more intimate it got, the more he changed. There was not much human and collectiveness in his behavior. His behavior became more primal, instinctual maybe even possessive.

“Tell me, if I am too much, ashayam.” He gritted out, voice cracking several times. I just gripped his fingers tighter: “As if that would ever be possible. You are perfect.”

“I could still hurt you. I am so much stronger than you and the longer I am this close to you, the harder it gets for me to control my urges.” He sounded desperately, as if he really needed to hold back something. I tried to turn around, but he didn’t let go of me. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “You sound like you are in pain.”

“I am not in pain.” He argued back.

“What is it then? Tell me, maybe I can help.” I pressed on, stopping my fight to turn around, as he clearly didn’t want me to see something.

“Its…” He started but stopped, taking a deep breath. “Vulcans have not always been this collected. Many centuries ago, we were one of the most brutal and animalistic races. Only the strong will to submit to control and logic saved us from going instinct. Those instincts however are said to be coming back when we are intimate with our partners. I never believed it before, as I have never been this… overwhelmed by my partner.” He stopped, letting out a deep growl. I used that time to ask: “I overwhelm you? With what?”

“You overwhelm me very much. It is nearly impossible for me to describe what I am currently feeling let alone control me. It’s the way you feel, the way you submit to me, how you react to me. I feel like you are calling out to a deeply buried need inside me, I wasn’t even aware I had.” He tried to explain and I thought about it for a moment: “Is that a bad thing to happen?”

“I don’t know.” Came his honest answer. “It feels right, but at the same time, I fear I might hurt you in the process of letting go.”

“You wont hurt me.” I argued, but he interrupted me: “You don’t know that!”

“Neither do you know that holding back is the right thing!” I snapped back. “I can make my own decisions and I promise I will tell you, if its too much, or if you hurt me.”

“But what if I cant stop myself?” He asked, his voice now soft and weak.

“Then I will. There is nothing you need to fear, okay? We are a team. You help me control my emotions and I will help you let out yours. We can do it together. I trust you and I love you.” I answered as softly, trying my best to make him understand I was there for him. “Besides, I already told you, I like my man rough and dominant.” I teased, bucking my hips upwards.

That seemed to snap him out of his worried state. “Don’t say things like that.” He growled, the warning clear in his words. But I was far to needy, not caring about the consequences. I whined out arching my back against him, but he just moved back, holding me down with his hip and hands. “Are we a bit greedy, ashayam?”

“Stop playing with me, Spock.” I breathed out, shuffling even more, trying my best to get some sort of body contact. But he didn’t move one bit. Instead, he flipped me around again, holding my hands with one hand pinned above my head. “Beg.” Was all he said, a sly smile spreading in the corners of his mouth. I froze in shock, having troubles processing what he just said.

“Beg, or I am stopping it right now.” He repeated, his voice now sharper, the smile changing from cocky to demanding. My eyes widened even more and I opened my mouth, only to close it again not really having the brain capacity to think clearly. “What if somebody walks down the hallway? They are going to hear us.” I finally let out. Spock just tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “They will hear a whole other things coming out of your mouth, when your Commander is fucking you. And you have already proven to be a screamer.” He teased me, reminding me of the conversation we had fighting Nero.

The sheer confidence he hold himself with, made my head reel with desire and I couldn’t help myself but to play into his game: “Make me.” Those two words send him and I knew it by the way his eyes turned dark. He lost it right then and there. Not giving me any second to react, I found myself flipped around and roughly pressed into the ground. He had one hand on the back of my neck, the other holding my hands on my back. “You wanna play that game? You want me to stop being nice and treat you like a little disobeying girl?” He rasped, audibly holding himself together by nothing more than the last string of control he could muster.

“Yes, Commander.” I moaned, spreading my legs wider and raising my ass up in the air. He let out a rough chuckle: “Look at that. All it took me was a little force and you are begging me like a bitch in heat.”

“Please…” Was all I could whine, desperately searching for release.

“Do it better.” He growled, giving me a slight shove.

“Please, Commander. I need you. Please fuck me.” I begged, not caring how desperate and needy I sounded. All I could think about was his cock and how he would take me.

“Finally…” He whispered, not loosening his grip. “Tell me, ashayam. Do you put up this act just to please me or do you really like me being so rough with you?” He asked, starting to press wet kisses on my shoulder. I moaned in response, pressing out a breathless answer: “I love it when you do it. I want you to be rough, need you to force me into submission. And honestly until now, no man was ever able to have me this fast on my knees and this desperate for his touches.”

“Good.” He growled. “Because from now on, there will be no other man ever in your life. You are my little girl. My t’hy’la. I will ruin you for every man to come, because I wont let anyone ever put a damn finger on you. You hear me? You are mine. Just mine.”

“Yes, Commander. Your girl only.” I mumbled brainlessly.

A deep sigh, came from his chest. “Do you even know what you do to me? The hold you already have on me is insane. I should be able to control myself, take care of you, make sure you are loved and know how much I care for you. But here I am… Giving in to my urges, pinning you down on the floor, while I am about to sleep with you the first time.”

I shrugged. “I don’t care, Spock. I want this. Want you. I need you to be rough with me and you being instinctually driven to do so, just plays into my wishes.”

He growled one last time, before he let go of me, I assumed he would take of his pants, so I turned around and what I saw made me gasp in shock. He was changed to say the least. The normal controlled expression on his face was taken over by pure dark lust. He stared me down the whole time, ridding himself from his pants, sinking to his knees and crawling back to me. Out of reflex, I opened my legs to let him in. He stopped for a second, taking a deep breath, forcing him to calm down. “I know, Jim probably shouldn’t have told me this, but I know you had a hysterectomy done. Are you okey with going further? If not, we can stop.”

I reached for his face. “I don’t want to stop. And don’t feel bad for knowing or asking. There would have been a point of talking about contraceptives anyway, so this just makes it easier.” He relaxed at my words, leaning down to kiss me. Then I could feel him stroking his cock through my folds, spreading my slick carefully onto his length. Looking at me with loving eyes, he slowly pushed into me, careful not to hurt me. But I was so riled up, that he had nearly no resistance gliding into me. When he bottomed out, he stopped his movements, jaw clenched desperately.

Then he finally started to move. Rolling his hips forward and pressing me down even further, my eyes fell shut. “Fuck…” He hissed above me, intertwining one hand again with mine. “Look at me, little girl. Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours.” Following his command, I opened my eyes. Getting locked up in his deep brown eyes, now nearly blown black from lust. Slowly he picked up the speed, not letting go of me. He was now hitting my sweet spot deep inside me at a steady rhythmical pace, that I let out another suppressed moan. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you. Show me how good I make you feel.” Once again, his whole demeanor shifted. Had he been rough commanding just seconds ago, he was now as soft and loving as he could be. Letting go of my hand, he started to caress and stroke my body with feather light brushes. Just ever so slightly that it had me yearning for more.

The way his movements, his thrusts and touches played with my body was pure bliss. I was riding on a hot wave of love and lust toward my abyss. “Oh god…” A loud moan forced itself past my lips, much to the pleasure of Spock. He apparently liked, when I was severely reacting to him. He started humming, bending down to kiss me. Giving me a lovely start, but underneath his well-kept gentleman attitude I could feel the need to possess me starting to boil. Him openly holding himself back, to fully commit to my pleasure, send so much love and lust through my body, that I couldn’t help but grip his upper arms tightly.

The knot in my stomach started to grow immeasurably. This mixed with Spock treating my so softly, pushed my emotionally agitated self over the edge. With tears running down my cheeks, I called out for him, now finally not caring about others maybe being able to hear us. He answered my call with burying me underneath him, while pressing down my hands with his bigger ones. “Its alright, ashayam. I am right here. You can let go.” He whispered against my ear. “You are doing so good. Such a good little girl. Taking me so well, so obedient. Go on. Come for me. Make a mess on my cock, I know you want to.”

A loud cry on my lips, I came hard. The wall of my orgasm hitting me with pure force. Dragging me over the cliff without any resistance. I was now in a free fall of blissfulness. Slipping in and out of reality, only being grounded by Spocks low, raspy voice praising me. Bucking against his body I shakily came back to senses, to then get my breath knocked out of my lungs by his hungry kiss. He slowed his movements, letting me regain my stance, giving me a chance of further consent or to stop him from moving on. That’s what has struck me deeply. No matter what, he was always focused on me giving my consent, to never step over any barrier I had.

“You can let go, Spock. Its okey. You wont break me.” I said, my voice still shaky from my orgasm. Pushing the hair out of my eyes, he asked: “Are you sure about that? You don’t have to...” I interrupted him, before he could get caught up in his thoughts too much: “Yes, I am sure. I can feel how you want to go rough with me. Take me. Make me feel good. Make me yours.” Instantly changing his demeanor, he pushed himself up. “I want to hear you. Don’t you dare hold back, understood?” His voice didn’t let any room for discussion, so I obediently answered: “Yes, Commander.”

“Good girl.” He rasped, gripping my hips with both hands to get a better hold of me. Then he picked up a ruthless pace. His fast pace had me forget any dignity that might have been left inside my body. Hitting my sweet spot with every thrust, now stretching me deeper than before, had me yelping and moaning out in pure pleasure. The lush sounds he was drawing from my body, mixed with my heavy breathing and his low groans. I could feel my juices from my previous orgasm running down my thigh, getting smeared around with every of his moves.

This right now was far away from the soft, sweet way he had thrusted into me before. He was now railing me without mercy, using me to his full pleasure. But that’s exactly how I wanted him to treat me. As an answer to his behavior, I twitched around his cock, implying my next upcoming orgasm. He looked at me with dark eyes, jaw clenched. “You ask before you come, you hear me?” He growled. Voice strained in sharp control over his inner needs.

“Yes.” I whimpered, not thinking about the consequences of not addressing him with his title.

“Yes what?” He snarled.

“Yes, Commander.” I cried out, again tears pricking in my eyes.

“Good girl.” He praised, actively rolling the r a bit to hard. “Promise me to never hide from me. I want you to trust me and let me in, ashayam.”

“I will, Commander. Please…” I begged, squeezing him with my throbbing pussy, not daring to speak the words to beg for another orgasm. “As you should. Does a good girl disobey her Commander?” He pressed on further.

“No, Commander. Please. I am close… I cant…” My cries were getting more and more desperate. I couldn’t hold back for much longer, silently praying he would release me. But it was Spock we were speaking about. The king of sass and teasing. “Then what makes you think you get to have another orgasm? Havent I already given you enough? And yet here you are, begging to give you a second one.” I could hear the pure pride of having me at his mercy.

“Please, Spock. I cant… I am too close. Let me come, please Commander.” I squealed, holding myself together by nothing more than a thread and pure willpower. Luckily, he knew how close I was, be whoever made Vulcans touch telepaths blessed, because he leaned down, letting go of my hipsl, wrapping his cold arms around my body. “Come, ashayam. Let go for me.” And that I did. Relaxing into his hold, I let the second wave hit me with all the force and turbulences it brought with it. Far away I could hear myself, moan or much more cry out his name, clawing my fingers to his arms, to gain at least some stability. Only a few moments later, I could feel his cock twitch against the shuddering walls of my core. Spilling his cold seed deep inside of me.

We stayed like that for several minutes, entangled in each others arms, collecting our breathes and dwelling in the aftermath of coming down from our highs. “Nash-veh ashaya du.” He whispered quietly, repeating the words in English: “I love you.” I clung to him even closer. “I love you too, Spock.” Spock had helped me back to my quarters offering to stay as long as I wanted him to, but I ushered him out the door, arguing he needed to sleep as well. As quick as I could, I showered and got ready for bed, nearly falling asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

#spock x reader #fem reader #smut #spock #commander spock #spock smut

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 2 years

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Had a fun thought after watching Ash vs The Evil Dead. Say a human finds the Necronomicon and decides its way too powerful to be left in the human world. SO using the book or another, they open a portal with the goal being 'someone who can protect it.' This human appears in front of a powerful being in hell, slams it on a table, and says that even if they get trapped here, it needs to be hidden. How would Lucifer + Lilith, Stella, and Stolas react to this? Maybe afterward the human is relieved and decides to throw a compliment their way so it hints at them being a future s/o? I can't get the idea out of my head but I can't write it down right now. Hope you like the request and feel free to add what you want.

Lovecraft? Eh, it's okay I guess

Lucifer & Lilith

The trip you'd taken up to your grandparents spooky old cabin was... interesting.

If your idea of interesting is discovering a demonic book with ancient and dark spells.

You, understandably were initially frightened by the contents, hiding the book away before pretending it didnt exist.

That didnt last long, and withing 24 hours, i took it back out and read it over several times, able to read and recover several pages that had been lost or inked out.

And you know how you didn't summon some dark spirit or evil demon?

YOU DIDNT. READ IT. OUT. LOUD!

You kept your mouth shut as you read, you didn't mutter out the ancient spells that could get you killed.

You weren't stupid.

But reading it over, you found it to be filled with... well, satanic would be an understatement.

It contained the knowledge of dark gods, evil dieties and dark spirits the like no mortal could best, it was intimidating.

Youd become obsessed with the book, not in a fashion of worship, but from a need to destroy it. And when that didn't turn out to be an option, to hide it. To protect it. To guard it from the outside world.

So, you initially thought about taking it to a church, have them protect it, as you do.

But you couldn't, it would surely corrupt the entire church, and then you'd have an even bigger problem to deal with.

So with little in the ways of options, you did the only thing you could.

You tried to get into contact with God.

You looked high and low, but after Months of trying to contact him, or fucking Anything, you got nothing.

So, with nowhere else to turn, you tried to contact well, the Devil.

And you had much more success this time.

In fact, the necronomicon itself had a means of reaching Hell, although you had to carefully read over the spell you ensure you weren't summoning some other demon.

But sure enough, after painting a big doorway out of blood and sacrificing a few goats, a portal would open.

Youd step through to a... well, a temple. At least it looked like it. The ceilings were ridiculous tall, the whole place chiselled out of some exquisite kinda stone.

You walked around for a while until you entered a sort of dining room.

There was a simple long table with an expensive looking table cloth, a wide spread of familiar and much less familiar foods laid out.

Youd reached out for a very tasty looking cream pastry when the double doors at the end of the room suddenly flew open.

You paused, standing there, staring at the doorway as a rather short gentlemen with golden hair walked in, followed by a significantly taller woman, a large set of horns curling around her grey hair.

They both froze.

You were already frozen.

The both of you stood there for several minutes, neither of you looking away from the other.

You both just stood there, before the gentleman raised a finger, pointing at you.

"Yyyyyour, not supposed to be here." He said simply.

You nodded, looking about awkwardly. "Yeah, your not wrong, but I kinda got something you need to see." You finished, not sure quite sure of what to do next.

The man stared at you for several moments, glowing gold eyes gliding up and down your form, he stopped, clearing his throat before he told you simply. "I am Lucifer Moringstar, King of Hell." He finished with a slight bow.

"And this is my wife Lilith, Queen of Hell." The woman gave a little bow.

Turning back to you, he stared at you until you got the hint, introducing yourself with a little bow.

Then you'd hold out the book, telling him, "I'm here to make a deal."

Now at that, he perked up immediately, eyes practically lighting up. He eagerly asked what you could possibly wanted.

Youd tell him simply how the necronomicon contained horrific spells and forbbiden knowledge. You'd tried to hand it over to God but... well, there was a reason you were there. So you wanted him to keep it. To hide it. Make sure no mortal or demon, or anyone. It was far to dangerous.

Lucifer seemed exceedingly interested, although he playfully noted it was a little insulting he was your second choice, before eagerly snatching the book up and flicking through it.

His smile quickly fell, the Devil looking through the book, face steadily becoming more and more unsettled.

He'd read through it for several minutes, before snapping it shut. Looking up he addressed you seriously, telling you it was wise for you to bring it to someone more powerful and he'd keep it hidden.

But then he'd ask if youd read it, or rather, could remember anything. You... hesitantly revealed you remember most of it, you'd read it dozens of times.

With that he welcomed you to his home, as you'd be staying there for the rest of eternity.

And when you gawked, demanding to know why, and so, he simply explained the information in your head was infinitely more dangerous then any spell or curse he held, so, you were his new house guess.

Perminantly.

And besides, he wasn't sure if he actually could get you back.

Hell was kind of a one way trip.

You couldn't lie, you hadn't really expected to survive going to Hell, and it was a little annoying given you were still alive, but were now trapped.

But after a while of contemplation, you willingly accepted your situation, coming to reside in the Devils manor.

It would take some time to come to terms with your new existence, spending the time in your chambers, coming to terms with the fact the rest of your life would be spent in hell, and then well, more then likely, the rest of eternity as well.

And well, it was with that realisation that you decided to suck it up, deciding it was best to try and make the best of it.

So, you would eventually approached Lucifer, the devil actually very eager to speak with you, the man intruiged by the mortal that not only resisted such lovecraftian knowledge and then made their way to Hell.

So you got to talking. And talking. And talking.

You spoke for hours, and naturally, you went light on details when it came to the Necronomicon, not wanting to bring it up again, and Lucifer didn't seem to mind, never pushing past simple questions or raising issue over you giving a half answer.

Youd just talk, you, and you couldn't believe it but you were quite enjoying your time with the literal Devil.

Now you would confront him, wondering if it were a trick. He was the King of Lies after all, so your good will could easily be a lie.

To that, Lucifer just laughed, telling you simply, he had no need to lie, if he wished for you to suffer, he'd make it happen. The devil flexing just a slight of his power, the feeling making you sick to your stomach.

You couldn't argue with him there, the two of you beginning a strange... you dare say, friendship.

A friendship that would quickly become playful, the Devil having a, well, devilish sense of humour.

And of course, it only took one lewd joke from you and that seemed to set him off, the Devil never missing a chance to make a lewd or dirty joke, never holding back on 'moral' sensability.

You had a... well, strangely flirty relationship, especially for a married man.

But, well, he was the Devil after all.

You of course, also got to know Lilith, the woman was surprisingly, incredibly comfortable to be around. She was tall, graceful, eloquent and treated you respectfully. She had a very strong mother energy.

She was delightful to speak with, the two of you bonding, usually over a book she recommended to you, the two of you essentially having your own little book club for just the two of you.

And something interesting would happen, she would recommend a book, that book turning out to be in Latin. When you explained you couldn't read Latin, Lilith of course was understanding, telling you she'd read to you.

And so... she did.

Then she read you another. Then another.

And it'd only take a single session, when you'd yawn, the woman pushing your head down onto her lap, using it as a pillow as she read to you.

It was a strongly intimate time together. And well, it all had its effect to you.

Youd develope a crush. A crush on both of them.

Which was weird, you know, the whole "Having a crush on not one but two people, and also those people are the Devil and His Wife". If you know what I mean.

Youd do your best to hide it for a while, keeping up and enjoying your respective relationship with the pair.

But it wouldn't take much. Lucifer bringing a few bottle up from the cellar for after dinner, and you quickly got buzzed, completely unable to handle the highly potent grape juice.

And in your inebriated state, you'd drunkenly confess you liked the both of them. They were nice and funny and kind and... so, so sexy. But knew they'd never reciprocate.

The two would 'aw', and fawn over you. When you became even more tipsy, the two bringing you to bed to sleep it off, snuggled up between the two of them.

Youd wake up next morning with a headache, rubbing your head. Only to be greeted by the succulent voice of Lucifer.

Youd immediately jolt up, finding yourself between the two of them.

Lucifer would be all smiles as he prowled towards you, the devil playfully telling you how glad he was to hear you liked him because he was... very fond of you too~

It'd be awkward, for sure, you sputtering, blushing up a storm. Something that only got worse when Lilith aeoke, hugging you from behind.

And the for the next few days, things were... different. Although you were eternally grateful for Lilith's calming nature, although she wasn't above teasing you as well, and well, when she teased, she bloody teased.

They would eventually proposition you properly. And I mean PROPERLY.

They went all out. Roses. Wine. Fine clothing and music. Lucifer and Lilith formerly inviting you to be a part of their family, for better or worse.

And after rather stupidly asking about their marriage, Lucifer simply stating he was the Devil, he didn't need to follow any rules. That you'd happily agree, the three of you beginning a, well, as Lucifer put it.

A threesome.

A title he was happy to use every chance he got.

Seemingly over night, you'd developed a deeply intimate relationship. You and Lilith were already very good friends, your relationship easily transferring over to a more romantic relationship.

Lucifer was similar, as your relationship would transform from a playful, if somewhat shallow friendship, into much more... intimate closeness.

He was still playful much of the time, but there were plenty of tender moments between you.

The King building a steady romance between you, the devil making you blush more than once, the devil seducing you as easily as breathing.

It would be few months later, and would take a little, or a good amount of liquid courage before you got into bed with them.

And I don't mean just to sleep.

And... Fucking Hell. It would be one Helluva night. Lucifer and Lilith showing you sinful pleasures you hadn't know we're physically possible. The next morning, laying there, you knowing full well you could never go back.

Youd develope a deeply intimate relationship with the two, even meeting Charlie, the girl understandably uncertain about you, but she gave you a fair chance, and you quickly became very close, you just loving her, well, loving and bubbly nature.

Your relationship, and Lucifer hated it when you called it this, but it was heavenly.

You had two, very powerful, very sexy Devils. You loved them, and admittedly it took a long time truly believe it, but they loved you.

You were in a strange way, but that horrifying book brought you together, a thought that made you smile often enough.

There was a whole ordeal when God found out about you, and you'd have to essentially convince an angel you were there willingly.

Several times.

Though the best part was after you'd refute them, Lucifer and Lilith were sure to reward you for your loyalty~

Stella

Youd step through the portal with a slight stumble, entering a... strange place. It was clearly a grand building, large ceilings and expensive looking materials.

Youd walk around for a while before you froze, coming face to face with a monolith of a white avain looking demon.

Youd stare at each other for several minutes, before she'd ask you shortly. "The fuck are you doing here?" She spoke in a Very British accent.

Youd hesitate before answering simply.

You were there with a purpose. "To hide this." You'd tell her, holding up the Necronomicon.

That would instantly intruige her, asking to see it.

Youd hesitate, but hand it over, explaining it was far to dangerous to left in the mortal realm. It had to be taken somewhere it couldn't be meddled with my humans.

Stella was instantly intruiged, flipping through it. She instantly understood the gravity of what the book was, and well she couldn't help it. She instantly proclaimed how she could use this to get even with her husband.

And hearing that, youd snatch the book back, telling her harshly it was far too dangerous for that.

She'd demand it back, voice booming as she spoke to you like a child, but you'd stand firm. She couldn't just play with it like a toy. And when she demanded it again, you'd stand firm.

Now, admittedly, she was very intruiged by that, something only made more intriguing my your possession of the book.

She was so used to being given what she wanted, for you to stand up to her, actually managed to impress her.

So she'd relent, asking what you wanted.

Youd tell her simply, you needed the book hidden away. Safe so no one could abuse it.

She'd humm, accepting it, IF! And only If, you agree to stay with her.

Youd hesitate, asking why?

Stella was cagey, shrugging it off, asking for your answer.

You were pissed before stopping. You realised this was your mission. Your sacrifice for the betterment of humankind, ya know?

So you'd agree, the two of you shaking on it, binding the agreement with magic.

So, you handed the book over, Stella making it disappear, promising to hide it properly with the necessary spells later.

And so, after shaking on it, you spent the next few weeks as Stella's plaything. The woman happily showing of her "Pet Human".

And while you were happy to play pet for a while, doing the demeaning tasks she gave you with only a slight grumble, when she demanded you wear a particularly scanty outfit, undoubtedly in order to 'show of your assest' that you finally stood up to her.

Youd go off at her, refusing to wear it. And when Stella brought up you swore, that were supposed to follow her every order like the lowly being you were.

That set you off, telling her she was an arrogant, pompous, self centered, egotistical entitled twat, and you'd only agreed to stay down here with her. Not serve her. The two of you stood there, heaving, staring at the other.

You weren't exactly sure how you ended up making out, or naked. Or in her bedroom, fucking like animals. But you got there.

And well, when you were laid there besides one and other, huffing and puffing in the messy bed, white fathers everywhere. Not sure if they were from her or the pillow you'd torn open, you certainlu didn't regret it.

That would only be first of many such fuckings. And while Stella was all arrogant and dominant in person, she loved it when you took charge, fucking her, putting her in her place.

That place usually being beneath you.

And yeas, she still treated you like a pet out in public, sure to order you around and make fun of your frail form. You always got even when in private, the woman rarely refuting you, the two of you having hard, heated sex whenever not around other people.

And while, it may seem a little odd, you'd develope something of a relationship with the woman. Well, a relationship outside of your 'master/slave but actually bottom/top' relationship.

Stella would never state it aloud, but you acted very much like lovers when alone, to the point you actually spent time together, you know, not having sex, and not as her pet.

Youd talk, or read, or try and help her with her work, only to realise you were greatly outmatched and instead just got her coffee.

Youd never truly state it, but you loved each other, even as much as she tried to hide it, where you were happy to be open about it, she kept it on the down low.

Granted, she was a demon so you gave her a pass for the most part, but you still had a deeply intimate relationship, at least when in private, the woman coming to care for you, in her own aristocratic way.

Stolas

Stepping through the portal, you found yourself in... a garden. Or at least it looked like a garden. It certainly didn't look all natural, and certainly not like something youd see in Hell. Or, then again, they were all rather... deadly looking.

So, you'd walk around for a bit, forced to run when some giant plant tried to eat you, you running your ass off. Jumping and running until you slammed into something.

Falling back, you were dazed for a moment.

Looking up, you found what you ran into... looking back at you.

A pair of big red eyes stared down at you, until in a surprisingly meek voice, the... Owl? Thing? asked simply.

"What... are you doing here?"

Youd rather anxiously lay there for a moment before sitting up, explaining to the... owl? You were there on a mission.

The owl perked up, asking what kind of mission?

So you'd explain.

You'd explain everything. The book. The dark ones. The forbidden knowledge. And how you intended on hiding it there, in Hell.

Stolas was... curious more then anything, requesting to see the book. So, after a moment of hesitation, you conceded, handing it over.

He thanked you, before flipping it open. He stood there silently as he flipped through it, his expression quickly becoming far more serious.

Snapping the book shut, he grabbed you and practically dragged you inside. You'd quickly find yourself in an office, sat across from the man.

He asked quite seriously what you were doing with the book. You explaining how you found it, and again how you were trying to hide it from the mortal world.

Stolas agreed with your assessment, however he'd need you to stay in hell with him. He explained, that well, you knew far to much, and if anything were to happen and you were to use such information, willingly or otherwise, it would make all your work for nothing.

Youd hesitate, but after Stolas assured you he'd take good care of you, you'd agree, the two of you making the deal.

Life in the palace was... interesting, to say the least.

Octavia was a nice young lady, the two of you regularly discussing life on earth, as well as the social norms of Hell, the girl helping you adapt quite well.

Stella was... surprisingly hospitable, although you suspected that partly came from Stolas not allowing her anywhere near the Necronomicon, the woman only able to and often asking you about it.

And whole you usually avoided the subjext, much to her shirgrin. Over all, you had a rather courteous relationship with the woman.

And finally, Stolas.

You and him actually got along great, he was a surprisingly skittish person, easily flustered and admittedly adorable.

The two of you became fast friends, speaking on a wide variety of subjects, often doing so long into the night, over tea or wine.

You spent longer and longer periods together, to the point you didn't really know what to do when not speaking to the other.

He would eventually come to confide in you. Revealing the abusive nature of their marriage. He'd end up in tears, clearly emotional, finally admitting as such, you acted quickly, reached out and hugging him.

Youd hold him close as he broke down into tears, clinging to you as he expressed these feelings for what was likely the first time in his life.

Youd just hold him, letting him cry, holding his delicate form to your chest, gently comforting him as much as you could.

After a while, and many, many tears, he'd recover, softly apologising for dumping all that on you.

To which you just calmly told him it was no issue. You cared for him greatly and wanted him to be happy.

At that he seemed to stare at you, and you at him, the two of you locking eyes as you slowly drifted into each other and before you knew it, you were kissing.

A strange sensation, given his beak, but it didn't slow you down, the two of you quickly becoming ravenous.

Youd, well put bluntly, you'd fuck like rabbits that night. It would be an intense, ravenous, but deeply intimate love making session.

Youd end up sleeping together that night, the owl being your big spoon, you curled up against his chest.

The next morning, the two of you just held each other close, basking in your afterglow. You'd smile up at him, reaching a hand out and gently cupping his cheek before you told him softly.

"I think I've fallen for you."

Stolas would blush, pure joy swelling in his chest as he leaned forwards, placing a tender kiss on your lips.

Your relationship would effectively be kept a secret, the two of you keeping it hidden well enough as you spent enough time together as it was, spending a little more didn't raise any eyebrows.

Your relationship would only grow stronger and more tender.

And you loved each other, eventually getting caught, as Stolas finally grew sick of Stella's abuse, getting a divorce, the two of you finally going public with it, too... mixed reactions.

Octavia was surprisingly chill about it. She was naturally hostile towards you for a while, but when she realised you did genuinely love her father, she'd ease up on you, you developing a fairly healthy mutual respect.

And while you'd never have a picturesque, nuclear family. But you'd have your love bird, and he'd have you, and that was enough.

And with your support, well, the Owl was far happier in life, simply adoring you.

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