#he would feel his brain frying up but if there's a curse in front of him

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i’ll relearn love at our kitchen table ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru doesn’t quite know what love is supposed to feel like. but if it means coming home to you, it can’t possibly be that much of a curse.

word count; 4.9k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, satoru gojo vs. the mortifying ordeal of being loved, fluff fluff fluff!!, a hint of angst if you reeeaallyyy squint, gojo’s pov, the babygirlification of satoru gojo, i just think being babied would fix him <33

a/n; i wanted to write something for suguru or shoko but this man is genuinely holding my brain hostage atp so more satoru fluff it is!! physically i could write gojo angst yes but emotionally? imagine the toll…

when satoru steps over the threshold to your apartment, he’s downright exhausted.

it’s a heavy kind of fatigue, a little sickening. the kind that seems to sneak its way into his bones, crawl its way under his skin. dragging him down, down, down.

a yawn slips from his lips.

the mission itself wasn’t too tough — anything is a breeze for satoru gojo, that fact needs no elaboration. this one was just a little more taxing than usual, slightly more important, which meant he had to deal with the technicalities of it all. had to listen to the elders go on and on about the importance of discretion, about finishing things swiftly and efficiently, and something else he didn’t stick around long enough to hear.

and the curse? a small fry, really. nothing worth fussing over. but it was annoying, with that irritatingly effective barrier technique. how long did he have to stay inside that goddamn veil before it let him get close enough to land a hit? 

satoru doesn’t want to think about it, can’t be bothered to figure it out when all he wants is to collapse into the warm comfort of a soft mattress. all he knows is that when it finally lifted, the night sky was the only thing he could see. a vacuum of stars — taunting in its perpetuity.

so, with all that being said; to say satoru feels a little worn out might be a bit of an understatement. 

hair slightly tousled, eyelids heavy with sleep-deprivation, he slumps against the wall and allows himself to simply breathe. a soft groan flows from his parted lips as he stretches idly, a small respite for his stiff and achy joints, his tired muscles. 

it’s been a long day. but satoru still finds it in him to exhale a relieved breath, to drag his blindfold down to his neck and kick off his shoes.

because it’s been a long, long day — but now he’s finally home.

(not just a house, not just an apartment, but a home. a place of comfort and belonging. satoru didn’t think that was a luxury he would ever be able to afford.)

the moment he lets the door close behind him, a particular scent greets him. soothing in its familiarity, the only thing in his life that never seems to change; a blend between fresh laundry, and watered houseplants, and something that smells a bit like honey. maybe even sweeter than usual, though satoru chalks that up to his mind playing tricks on him. 

it’s nice. so nice. coming back to something warm and real, a respite from his hectic work. a safe haven, of sorts, one that hasn’t been taken from him just yet.

satoru likes to think of your front door as a threshold between realms, a gap between within and without. one is dark in its saturation, plagued by that never-fading smell of iron, while the other is simply warm. sacred in its normalcy. 

everything looks just as it should, the same as when he rushed out this morning; a fluffy blanket draped over the couch haphazardly, that soft golden light streaming out from the kitchen, your shoes by the front door.

satoru blinks, drowsily.

wait.

why is the kitchen light still on?

as if his eyes could ever deceive him, satoru rubs the skin under them groggily — blinking once, then twice. 

yep, it’s still there — that soft fluorescent glow. a sight he’s come to associate with breakfast and dinner and a mellow kind of love, laughter shared over warm meals made by human hands. food tastes better, satoru has come to realize, when you have someone to eat it with. 

ah, but it’s odd. did you forget to turn the lights off? that’s not very like you. 

as if possessed by a strange, irresistible longing, his feet carry him to the kitchen in question. undeniably groggy, his uncoordinated steps are riddled with fatigue, but the yearning in his chest compels him to move forward anyway — a kind of yearning he only fully understands when he enters the space, and sees you slumped over the table, a familiar flicker of cursed energy capturing his attention.

you’re asleep.

satoru stills, where he stands by the threshold between the kitchen and the living room.

everything looks the same as always — cookie jars placed on the highest shelf to give him an excuse to help you reach them, origami made from newspapers he never bothers to read anyway, a vase standing proudly on the kitchen counter, stuffed with fresh flowers he bought for you two days ago. 

the red roses still haven’t wilted, shining in the blue of the moonlight flickering in. good. they’re pretty, but maybe next time he should get you something more original. maybe some sunflowers, something that could rival the brightness of your smile. do they even sell sunflowers this time of year? if you were awake, satoru would ask you, even though you always tell him to just google it —

but you're not awake. you’re fast asleep, cheek squished against the kitchen table, snoring softly.

satoru feels his mood lift at the sight alone, and suddenly he doesn’t feel as tired anymore. something soft and almost otherworldly sprouts in his chest, as he takes you in, stepping closer. almost giddy, just to see you up close.

you look so peaceful and relaxed, so content. elbows resting on the table as soft little breaths fall from your parted lips; he spots a bit of drool on the corner of your bottom lip, gaze fond as he wipes it away with his thumb. he can’t resist the urge to poke your cheek, and it makes you stir ever so slightly — lips curling up into something akin to a sleepy smile.

satoru grins.

(you’re so cute.)

despite his fatigue, he hears himself chuckle, all soft and amused and a little bit lovesick. it comes to him so easily, when he’s with you; that upturn of his lips, the butterflies in his stomach.

satoru is still getting used to it. this cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love. the kind that always feels like spring. but with every day that passes, the life he has with you becomes a little easier to digest. his future with you becomes a little easier to visualize.

yeah, he thinks. he could get used to this. coming home to you.

a soft smile, as he exhales a somewhat exasperated breath. you really shouldn’t be sleeping out here, though. silly.

satoru leans forward, inching closer to your pretty, sleeping face — he almost feels bad, waking you up like this. but he wants to hear your voice so badly.

so he cups your cheek, cold skin meeting warm, his hands still lingering with the bite of the midnight air. his fingertips tingle, buzzing with the body heat that trickles from your veins to his — one single touch is all it takes for him to soften.

the word that falls from his lips breaks the peaceful silence of the kitchen, breathing life into the moment. whispered into your ear, causing your brows to furrow as you gently slip from sleep’s embrace.

“baby…” 

satoru is smiling, when your eyelids flutter open. a sincere smile, reserved for you and his students. bathed in the mellow hue of the kitchen lamp’s illumination, a soft glow curls around the strands of his white hair, creating a halo of artificial light.

blinking sleepily, you gaze at him in silence. something shines in your eyes, something satoru tentatively recognizes as adoration. and he gazes right back at you, with heavy-lidded eyes and a lopsided smile. teasing, lighthearted. thumb smoothing over the apple of your cheek.

then he grins, hopelessly endeared. ”hey there, sleeping beauty.”

a yawn tumbles from your lips, and you lift yourself up. leaning into his touch. “toru…” you mumble, voice a little raspy but still oh so sweet.

satoru doesn’t say anything. he simply takes you into his arms, gently, touch so very delicate — as if you’re made of porcelain. and you just let yourself fall into his embrace, while he tucks you under his chin, safe and secure. 

it’s warm, he thinks. it feels right. complete, somehow.

and satoru thinks to himself that this must be what love feels like. what it’s supposed to feel like, anyhow, all sweet and light. all good and normal, something you never have to question. a cornerstone.

“you’re back…” you drawl, muffled into his uniform as your arms sneak around his thin waist. bringing him closer.

stroking the back of your head softly, satoru’s chest rumbles as he speaks, voice deep and a little raspy. soothing, a lullaby just for you. “yeah,” he hums. ”were you waiting?”

all you do is nuzzle further into his chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart; breathing out a sleepy little mhm that has him going weak at the knees, lips curling up helplessly.

“i wanted to…” you continue, stretching your arms a little to shrug away the remnants of sleep still clinging to your joints. “but i fell asleep.” 

satoru feels you move in his arms, until your jaw settles on top of his shoulder and you press a chaste kiss to his neck. an exhale leaves his lips, something tender in the way his breath wavers.

“welcome home,” is whispered, muffled against his skin. a sentence he never wants to go a single day without hearing. “did the mission go okay?”

he plants a kiss on top of your head, speaking in a low tilt, reassuring. “it did. just took a little longer than i thought.” a soft inhale, as he basks in the scent of your shampoo. “i wanted to text you, but the veil blocked my signal. sorry, sweetie.”

another soft yawn, and a shake of your head. “s’ fine, don’t worry,” you murmur. ”i’m just glad you’re okay.”

satoru chuckles. there’s a fondness to it, light. and then something else, something more heavy — it rumbles through his chest, almost like a purr, or a soothing thunderstorm. he can only hope it’s enough to comfort you.

“of course.” he says the words like they’re indisputable, like they’re written down in scriptures old and worn. cradling you in his strong arms, he pulls you closer to his chest. hoping you’ll feel his heartbeat against you, feel that he’s there. “i always am, aren’t i?”

no answer. only a tiny hum, absentminded.

and satoru knows, deep down, that his words don’t mean much. that a part of you is always going to worry over him, no matter how many times he tells you that there’s no need. that he’ll be fine.

the thought makes him feel a bit guilty. a little sick to his stomach, at the thought of being a source of your anxiety, the reason you can’t fall asleep at night — but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t also make him feel somewhat giddy. the thought tastes sweet, on his tongue, even though it probably shouldn’t.

having someone who worries for you is a luxury, satoru has come to realize. a luxury he has, now, one he hasn’t had since —

well. that’s neither here nor there.

(“be careful, satoru,” he recalls a kind boy saying.

but that was many, many springs ago.)

“oh, right.”

at the sound of your voice, satoru pulls away ever so slightly, gazing down at you. “hm?”

with a single step back, you look up at him. tilting your head. hands still resting securely on his waist, fingertips squeezing at his hips. lightly, affectionately. barely restrained fondness. ”have you had anything to eat yet?”

“yeah. got some takeout on my way back.”

satoru expects you to sigh in relief, at his instantaneous answer. you don’t like it when he skips meals, so these days he’s been trying not to do it as much. even though he doesn’t always have the time to eat properly, and even though the sweets he chews on between missions make him lose his appetite. but he makes an honest attempt, for you.

someone worries for him. someone wants him to eat well. that’s more than enough motivation for satoru gojo.

but you don’t exhale, and you don’t look very relieved, either. you look… disappointed. eyes suddenly glancing down at the floor, lips curled down into a barely noticeable frown. 

“oh,” you breathe. “okay. good.”

one second. then two. satoru tilts his head.

“why?” he stops to think. maybe… “did you make something?”

a certain recognition flickers in the depths of your eyes, and satoru thinks he must be right on the money. chewing at your bottom lip a little, you wait a moment before curling your fingers around his wrist — tugging him away from the kitchen table.

satoru follows, pliantly, until you’re standing in front of the fridge.

“well, um… here,” you mumble, somewhat sheepishly. fingers tapping at the handle before pulling it open. “take a look.”

satoru watches as the fridge door opens, slowly.

he blinks.

the first thing he sees is a single slice of strawberry shortcake. the strawberry looks fresh, glittering like a ruby on top of the softly whisked cream — and layers of sponge cake, that look like they’d melt in his mouth.

and that’s not all. there are a wide array of baked treats stuffed into the cramped space, protected by plastic wrapping and containers. everything from cupcakes with too much frosting — just the way he likes them — to chocolate chip cookies that crumble at the corners, satoru never seems to run out of things to look at. colourful treats, lovingly made and sitting right in front of him. it’s like he’s standing in a patisserie. they almost seem to sparkle, in the peripheral of his vision; glimmering softly, tantalizingly, like something out of a dream.

childish. that’s what nanami and shoko always call him, and he always protests, but —

maybe they have a point, after all. satoru certainly feels a little childish, when he realizes his eyes must be wide and bursting with child-like giddiness. a simple kind of joy, at seeing the ample selection in front of him. especially after that tedious mission prevented him from getting any sugar into his system.

”i did my best,” you mutter, sharing the sight with him as your eyes trail over a pretty bag of pink and green macarons. ”dunno if they turned out any good, but… i hope you’ll like them.”

satoru’s gaze flits over to you. 

he opens his mouth, and then closes it again.

”did you… make these?” a beat. ”for me?”

a blink. ”.. yeah?” who else would they be for?, your eyes seem to say. a little confused.

for a second, satoru can only stare at you. in complete silence, the tired cogs inside his head turning sluggishly as he thinks about the implications of that answer. and with a soft flutter, he feels his heartbeat pick up, warming him up from the inside out. 

you made them. with your own hands. you made all of these and you did it for him.

for some reason, satoru finds it oddly hard to speak, like someone stuffed a bunch of cupcakes down his throat. it’s weird — usually he can’t seem to stop talking, especially not when he’s with you, but… 

(something about this is just too tender.)

you must have been baking all day. no wonder the apartment smelled sweeter than usual, when he walked in.

as if itching to curl around one of the macarons, his fingers twitch, but satoru gulps and keeps them still. he wants to say something, anything, wants to thank you or ask why you’d spend so much of yourself on him, but satoru only stays silent.

and maybe it’s because he’s tired. maybe he’s just a little caught off guard. usually this wouldn’t be that hard to handle — he could just throw himself on you and shower you in kisses, show his appreciation with a flurry of dramatics and declarations of love. 

but right now there seems to be a disconnect, between satoru’s mind and body. maybe the mission drained him more than he realized. or maybe it’s more than that, maybe there’s nothing he can say or do; what words could he even begin to use to properly verbalize the emotions he’s feeling right now? how could his touch ever begin to measure up to the sweet sensation unfurling in his chest?

the silence doesn’t last long. as satoru stands there and spirals, you speak up, most likely chalking it up to him being too sleepy to react. 

”this mission was especially rough, right?” you begin, with a soft tilt of your head. a smile curls its way onto your lips, proud and sweet. sweeter than everything in the fridge combined.

one step, then two. you inch closer to him, until there’s almost no space between you — standing on your tiptoes, one hand on his shoulder and the other reaching for his head. smoothing down his tousled hair, fingers tangling themselves between the soft white strands and getting lost in them. and it’s gentle, the way you begin to pat his head, doting. 

then you speak. ”you did well.”

and it’s such a simple thing to say. three words, three syllables, but the words just tumble out from your mouth so earnestly that satoru can’t help but still. his breath hitches in his throat, softly, barely noticeable, but it’s there. that surprise.

he never knows how to act, when you get like this. patting his head and ruffling his hair like he’s something warm and sweet and worthy of love. something delicate, and not the strongest man on the planet. 

it’s so weird. you’re so weird.

(satoru leans into your touch without thinking, allowing his eyes to flutter shut.)

it’s perplexing, this feeling, and the fact that he can’t pinpoint why frustrates him to no end. isn’t this wrong? shouldn’t he be the one ruffling your hair, coddling you?

what formula is he supposed to follow here, exactly? should he tease you? pull away from your touch?

satoru wishes his six eyes could tell him the answer, but they don’t. they’ve never been very good with emotions, with things that aren’t directly tied to his suffering or imminent death.

(so ironic. all these eyes and nothing to see. they failed to see suguru’s silence, back then, and now they fail to see what reaction would please you the most. 

really, such a worthless ability to love people with.)

no answer comes to him. so satoru doesn’t tease you, and he doesn’t pull away.

it does feel slightly wrong, though. like this feeling isn’t something he’s supposed to have, there must be some mistake, he can’t possibly be allowed to feel so loved — can he? having you bake him all his favorite treats, run your fingers through his hair. praise him for working hard.

really. isn’t he being too coddled?

(… but it feels so nice.)

satoru suspects that there’s a lot to love he might not fully understand, just yet.

maybe tomorrow, when he’s a little less tired, he can try once again to give you the impression that he’s perfect. that he doesn’t need affection, that he doesn’t crave your support or your touch. that he’s above all that, the strongest, someone for you to depend on.

depend on him, while he depends on no one. that’s the kind of existence satoru gojo is. that’s how it should be, that’s all he knows, but…

— ah. it feels really nice when your nails scratch his scalp like that.

and suddenly, that’s all satoru can think. no more pesky what-ifs, or second guessing every good thing he gets. right now, it’s just you and him. your fingers in his hair, his footprints in your life.

satoru allows himself to melt under your touch, almost meekly. leaning down just a little further, to make it easier for you to smooth your hand over his head. he nuzzles into your palm with a happy little exhale, and for some reason he feels sort of bashful.

try as he might, he doesn’t manage to successfully shoo the emotion away, so all he can do is hope you don’t take note of it.

and you just continue your onslaught of affection, now ruffling his hair with both your hands, like he’s a big puppy getting cooed over. satoru has a nagging suspicion that you might be getting a little carried away, but he doesn’t stop you. greedy, in the way he wishes your hands would never leave his hair. the way he hopes you’ll never be too far away from him to reach.

”such a hard worker,” you coo, and he feels himself grow flustered. ”my baby deserves so much love.”

”woah there,” satoru chokes out, grinning, desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint to his ears. ”are you flirting with me? i have a partner, you know.”

a giggle slips from your lips, sleepy and amused. ”oh, do you?” one of your hands goes to cup his cheek,  thumb caressing the edge of his jaw as you gaze at him fondly. ”lucky them.”

the grin you’re wearing is awfully bright. soft around the edges in a way that has him speechless, brain malfunctioning ever so slightly. satoru makes a mental note to scrap the sunflower idea — there has to be some brighter flower out there, one that can actually compete with your smile. sunflowers just won’t cut it.

but then you let go, and satoru gets broken out of his lovesick stupor.

when your hands leave his skin, his lips curl down into a soft pout. one he rushes to smooth away, before you can notice it.

you step back, failing to stifle a soft bout of laughter, but satoru knows it’s not because you saw it — he knows because your gaze is glued to his hair, and he internally winces when he thinks about how messy it must look, after your little bout of cuteness aggression. 

(you really are weird, finding him cute of all things.)

he expects you to tease him a little more, but you don’t, turning away and tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. ”if i’d known you’d be home this late,” you speak, stealing one last glance at the pastries before closing the fridge. ”then i would’ve waited until tomorrow. so you could eat them fresh.”

an apology rests on satoru’s tongue, but as if sensing it, you rush to reassure him.

”ah, but this is fine too! they should still taste good!” you turn away, muttering. ”… hopefully.”

then you nod to yourself, crossing your arms absentmindedly. 

satoru looks at you for a second. 

then he steps forward, unable to resist the temptation — tapping at your wrist with the pads of his fingers, before gently curling them around it, coaxing you into turning your head towards him.

the kiss he presses to your lips is soft, delicate. his fingers trace along your jaw, cupping your cheek and tilting your face up slightly, just letting his warm lips rest against yours. sweet and chaste. he sighs into the kiss, content, and feels your pulse pick up.

then he moves down to your jaw, slow and methodical — lazy kisses, sleepy but so full of affection. and little pecks, scattered all over your lips, your cheek, the tip of your nose.

you seem to melt a little, against him, and satoru relishes in it; his ability to make you relax. far more valuable than the six eyes, he would argue.

when he pulls away from you, with what takes tremendous self-restraint, he’s smiling. his gaze meets yours, layered over with pure adoration, blue eyes crinkling as he looks at you. as if you’re his entire world. the kitchen light embraces him, cascading down the contours of his face; the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his barely noticeable dimples.

and there it is, again — that flicker of love in your eyes, that adoration. as if you’re looking at a painting, something too beautiful for words.

(satoru hopes you can see that very same adoration, reflected in his eyes as he looks at you.)

after a moment, he leans forward, to rest his jaw on the curve of your shoulder. you stumble a little under the weight, caged in as his arms hug your midriff.

”god,” he sighs, breathless, heavy with giddy disbelief. almost whining when he continues, nuzzling into your neck as if to hide. ”why are you so perfect, huh? i don’t get it.”

at that, you huff out a laugh, an amused little breath. wrapping your arms around his neck and scratching softly at his nape. satoru shudders just a little, arms tightening around you.

”stealing my line…” you mutter, accusatory, smile laced over with a honeyed affection. 

another amused breath, this time from him. this is one battle he won’t let you win. ”nah,” he grins, tugging you closer. ”’s mine.”

this is warm, he thinks. this feels right. complete, in a way that satoru never understood before you.

he could probably stand there forever, just basking in it. soaking up your body heat and the smell of your shampoo. until your warmth is all he knows, until he can never get your scent off his skin.

and satoru thinks that he could get used to this. a cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love, one that smells like spring and tastes like strawberry shortcakes and feels like tight hugs shared in kitchens.

your love makes him feel so human. and it’s scary, terrifying even, but it's also too good to pass up. it’s worth the risk. so worth everything.

a yawn leaves your lips, suddenly. satoru feels you soften in his embrace, nuzzling closer to him, stumbling just a tad; he doesn’t think it’s fair, for such a simple gesture to make him as happy as it does.

”sleepy?” he coos, smile giddy and fond. ”let’s go to bed, okay? no more sleeping on the kitchen table, silly.”

a disgruntled little huff resounds throughout the air, as you let your arms fall to your sides. ”that’s on you,” you declare, poking the plush of his chest with your finger. ”i only fell asleep because you took so long.”

a teasing glint flickers in satoru’s eyes.

”wanted to see me that badly, huh?” he coos. you roll your eyes, and he pulls your cheek. ”that’s cute.”

”so what if i did?”

satoru stills. you’re smiling, a little mischievous, but mostly sincere. and it really is very unfair of you, he thinks — to do this to him while his guard is down. 

but he manages to pull himself together, raising an amused eyebrow and booping your nose in a way that catches you off guard. blinking up at him, eyelashes fluttering. 

satoru clears his throat. ”well, that’s sweet.”

then he turns on his heel, suddenly, and strolls over to the fridge. ”but you know what’s even sweeter?” he chirps, fingers curling around the handle as he swiftly pulls it open. 

licking his lips, absentmindedly, his eyes trail over all the different pastries. so close yet so far, just out of reach; his fingers move forward, towards that mesmerizing slice of strawberry shortcake —

”— no.”

a hand settles on satoru’s waist, and tugs him away from his well-deserved prize. taking advantage of his momentary surprise, you close the fridge decisively, and give him an unimpressed raise of your eyebrow.

satoru whines, loud and grating. pouting sweetly, trying to make you feel bad. ”c’mon, just one bite —”

”no.”

”but they’re for me!”

”they’re for you to eat tomorrow. i was only gonna let you eat them tonight if you were on the brink of starvation, or something.”

”i am!”

”so the takeout was a lie?” you narrow your eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. ”have you been skipping meals, again?”

satoru pauses. weighing his options. ”well, no, but…”

”— then no.”

another soft whine. you turn away from him, when he tilts his head and gives you his best set of puppy dog eyes. in fear of giving in to them, satoru knows, as you have so many times before. ”please?” he tries, to no avail.

”you’re not eating sweets before bed, satoru,” you deadpan, and his smile falls further, exaggerated. ”and no, we are not having that conversation again.”

he can tell you’re trying to sound stern, but a giggle tumbles from your lips nonetheless, at the ridiculousness of the situation. keeping a grown man away from your fridge, knowing that he’ll wolf down every pastry he sees and get himself sick if you don’t. all while the man in question whines at you in protest, frowing so deeply, disappointment evident on his features.

(except satoru really isn’t very disappointed at all. like this, he gets to stare at your smile all he wants, after all; knowing you won’t notice it, too busy trying to keep yourself from giving in to his pleas.)

he tries again, one last time. just because he knows it’ll make you laugh. you do, a little exasperated, and satoru couldn’t be happier. 

and he thinks to himself that if this is what love is, if this is what it’s supposed to feel like, then it can’t possibly be that much of a curse. 

maybe he should revise the hypothesis, get a second opinion. he’ll have to ask you tomorrow, over pastries and coffee, and hear what you have to say.

as you both stumble to the bedroom, sleepy and a little delirious, satoru thinks that maybe this is enough; the lighthearted banter, the fond laughter. everything good and real and normal, within the space of your apartment, a home he never thought he’d have.

(and maybe, a second opinion isn’t necessary, after all. maybe it doesn’t really matter if love is a curse or not, as long as he gets to share it with you, like this.)

that night, satoru dreams. curled up with you beneath the blankets, limbs tangled together, as if he could never be close enough.

he dreams of kitchen lights, of sweet treats and warm hands. of spring breezes, and a love he’s finally beginning to accept for what it is:

good. wholly and thoroughly.

#lovesick satoru is my favorite satoru but yknow whats even better? lovesick satoru/lovesick reader #i just have such a firm belief that this man is a loser when hes genuinely in love ok. #hes so touch starved i think he’d crumble into a little puddle on the floor if u kissed his cheek #loves to tease and fluster you n hes so good at it but the moment u give him the same treatment? he is Gone. down for the count #spreading the loser satoru agenda <33 i love this man so dearly. #i NEED to hold his waist btw idk if i made that clear. i need it like i need air to breathe. like why is it so tiny if not to be held by me #had to hold myself back like a wolf during a full moon from describing his waist in too much detail youre welcome #overall idk what to say i just think love could fix him #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader

[steddiealltheway]

My steddie brain rot is going crazy today.

But the trope of Steve going on so many failed dates at the same place. But Eddie is the waiter every time.

He makes snarky remarks, always is quick to supply a lie for Steve to get away from the ones with too many red flags (Eddie slips him a napkin explaining them every time on his way out, and Steve always trusts him), picks Steve’s spirits up when he strikes out yet again, and always slips him free dessert.

After a particularly horrible date - in which the girl shows up an hour late and thirty minutes before they close and proceeds to only talk about her ex the whole time, running out when he sees him pass by - Eddie allows Steve to stay after closing and gives him extra fries and a slice of chocolate cake.

When Steve’s head thuds against the counter, Eddie comments, “Maybe you’re cursed.”

Steve shoots back, “Maybe this place is cursed.”

Eddie is silent for a few moments and leans over the counter he’s cleaning to whisper, “Maybe I’m cursing you.”

Steve laughs and throws a fry at Eddie who yelps and demands he pays for his cake this time. When the laughter dies down, Steve finds himself actually considering a new location for his dates.

“Hey, Eddie, where do you take all your dates?”

Eddie freezes and looks at Steve. He shakes his head and continues wiping off the counter. “All my dates,” he mutters in what sounds like disbelief. Steve can hardly believe it.

“You… you don’t go on dates?” Steve questions.

Eddie shoots him a look and says, “Steve, I don’t know where you got that impression, but I certainly do notttt.” He circles around the counter and begins putting chairs on top of the tables.

“Why not? You’re funny, kind, really creative with your lies, have a steady supply of free cake…” Steve trails off as Eddie laughs. He blurts out, “And you’re not so bad on the eyes either.”

Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops. He slowly approaches Steve and asks, “Steve Harrington, are you saying you find me attractive?”

Steve easily flirts back, “Maybe I am.” And what the hell was that? This isn’t one of his dates.

Eddie’s cheeks turns red and he looks down shaking his head. He replies, “Well, if you’re looking for a new place for a date, I would suggest the diner across the street. So you can come crawling back to me when it fails.”

Steve throws yet another fry at him and exclaims, “Another failed one!”

“You’re right! I won’t be close enough to curse you!”

Steve remains in the diner until Eddie closes up. His stomach hurts from laughing so hard, and he entirely forgets about the failed date. But he comes up with a plan for the next one.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve shows up at the diner across the street with low hopes for this date.

Surprisingly enough, she shows up on time and is really funny and beautiful and…

Steve looks out the window trying to catch a flash of big curly hair in the diner across the street.

“Steve?” The girl, Jessie, asks. “You okay? You seem… distracted.”

“Yeah, of course,” he replies shaking the feeling that something is off.

The date goes… really well. And Steve isn’t happy about it. And he doesn’t know why he’s not happy until he finishes his meal and gets the check… with no free dessert.

Eddie is what’s off. The thought hits him suddenly, and Steve doesn’t know what to do. The perfect girl is literally right in front of him, but more than anything he wants to run across the street and see Eddie.

Eddie had cursed him.

“Steve, are you okay?” Jessie asks so kindly, and really she’s perfect. But she’s not Eddie.

“I’m so sorry…” Steve begins.

Jessie cuts him off, “Someone else, right? It’s okay really. I’ve been there, too. Just… go after her.” She smiles sweetly at Steve and squeezes his hand.

Who the fuck is she, and please be attracted to girls so Steve can set her up with Robin.

“Thank you,” Steve says leaving money on the table, he kisses her on the forehead and thanks her again. Then he’s racing out the doors, darting across the street, apologizing to a car that has to slam on the breaks and swerve to not hit him.

He races into the diner, and the bell obnoxiously rings as the door slams open. Luckily, there’s only one couple in the place, and they’re in the process of leaving. Or they were. Eddie dropped their change all over the ground when Steve startled everyone.

Steve helps to scoop up the money, apologizing and awkwardly waving as the couple leaves. When the door closes, Eddie slightly smiles asking, “Another failed date, huh?”

“No actually,” Steve replies.

Eddie’s face drops and his knuckles turn white around the money he’s gripping. “Oh. Well, congratulations,” Eddie says monotonously, shoving the money into the register and slamming it shut. “Unfortunately, we’re closing soon, so I’ll have to usher you out.”

“Eddie-”

“Leave,” Eddie says, not looking up.

“It didn’t work out!” Steve yells. “It didn’t work out. And it should’ve. Because she was everything. She was perfect. She was everything I wanted.”

“Glad to hear that-”

Steve interrupts, “But it didn’t matter because she wasn’t you!”

Eddie finally looks up at him. “What?”

“The whole time, I was expecting to look up and see you. And when I didn’t I was looking out the window trying to see you across the street and the damn glare wouldn’t let me. And then I was expecting free dessert subconsciously, and it never came!” Steve rambles out running his hands through his hair.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he tilts his head. “You wanted me to be there for… my free dessert?”

Steve groans, “No, Eddie. I wanted you to be there on the other side of the table. I wanted Jessie to be you.”

Eddie stares at him for a few moments and then slowly breaks out into a grin. “So I really did curse you?”

“You did, you asshole,” Steve bites back laughing.

Eddie leans across the counter and says, “So, what if I told you that if I were to go on a date, I would go to Enzo’s? And that I’m free tomorrow night.”

“I would say it’s a date,” Steve says leaning in.

Eddie hesitates and says, “Woah now. A gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date.”

Steve replies, “Apparently I’m not a gentleman then.”

Eddie meets him in the middle and gently kisses him, breaking it only when he can’t help but smile widely. “You’re going to get me fired.”

“Definitely now that I have an unlimited supply of free cake.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and says, “Which comes directly out of my paycheck.”

“Eddie! You didn’t tell me you were paying for it!”

Eddie smiles. “Sounds like you’re paying for a lot of our dates then.”

Steve comes around the counter and hooks his arms around Eddie’s neck. “Someone’s presumptuous.”

“And that someone needs to close the diner,” Eddie shoots back quickly giving Steve a peck on the cheek.

Steve helps him close up, wondering how it took him so long to see what was right in front of him.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #every time I think I’m going to write two sentences #two sentences turn into a ficlet #every. time.

[yveaart]

late night talking

jungwon x reader

genre : fluff!! tooth rotting fluff, mentions of kissing, cuddling🥹, enemies to lovers trope !!, cursing, slow burn.

synopsis : you were going home after a long day of frying your brains out from studying but then you meet your academic rival yang jungwon, starting a quarrel as he walked away after your confrontational questioning of his detention.

warning ! lowercase intended, not proofread

after processing that you couldn't fit any more knowledge into your brain you came to the conclusion of just going home and sleeping after two weeks of sleeping and waking up in ungodly hours, your body called— basically screamed for you to lay the fuck down.

feeding your already filled backpack with your laptop and few more supplies you used in the last few hours, you huffed carrying it with a lot of weight applied to your back. walking down the dusky halls as the lights were not yet lit.

it was once again nighttime, walking out of the campus made you feel peace, somehow beating yourself up to be up the academic list made you love the night, it made you feel alive, but yang jungwon beat you up last semester, your interactions with him were either snarky comebacks that are borderline personal or either smirks and death stares mainly depends who score the highest.

the first time jungwon peaked this year, you took it as a challenge, until he did too, leaving confrontational comments and he did bump onto you causing you to drop your figure of the great wall of china that took you weeks! the moment it fell onto pieces you saw red. for a second you thought his eyes were built up with guilt but in the urge of a breakdown you left.

you would claim to be his biggest hater, for that you ended every communication with him, you strived to be the best as you were paid with pride when you were first again.

but that was last semester , and your goal now was to crush him in pieces, you were sure of that.

"what are you doing here yang? planning to break my bag this time?" you said as you tried to walk faster

"listen, i didnt-"

"didn't what? mean it? yeah sure you didnt"

"no i mean it. dont believe me? then dont" his voice getting frustrated.

"don't worry you won't have to make me think that you didn't do it on purpose" you said finally walking away.

he grabbed your arm, flipping you around making you face him. "you have every reason to be mad, but you have to listen to me, i didn't mean to break it" he exhaled loudly as if he was holding all the air in his lungs"

"as well as hating you, i never said that"

"you dont have to say it aloud jungwon, i dont care if you hate me, all i care is for getting up the list and for you to fall back into pieces" his gaze started to sharpen, his tongue poking the insides of his cheeks slowly losing his patience. you were unsure on which part he was mad about.

" i dont care about who comes in the first place damn it!"

"is that why you got sent for detention then? huh?" suddenly everything felt silent as he started walking away.

"then i probably hate you so much" he said enough for you to hear

"answer me yang!" you asked as he walked away

————

"i dont get why he tried so hard convincing me that he didnt hate me and suddenly walk away when i confronted him about his detention" you complained to areum as you sat in the benches out of the campus the next day.

you were left confused and eager to know why your rival was acting unusual.

"oh didnt you know he punched the new kid who tried to take a photo under your skirt" she answered mouth full of the sandwich she bought.

"WHAT? AND YOU JUST TOLD ME NOW?" you stood up facing her.

she tried to answer you but almost choked so you gave her water, she showed you a video that was sent to her buy a student who saw it, you started running desperately trying to find him. you ran to his best friend nd riki but he told you that jungwon went home already.

you ran a few more blocks until you stood at his front door, knocking 3 times and another one after thinking that 3 was an odd number. a few seconds later you were met with the black haired boy looking confused.

your gaze went down seeing hid bruised knuckles... he did actually punch the new guy. you hugged him around his neck sending him a few steps backwards as the door closed. you dropped your bag letting his neck go.

"what was that for?" he asked confused as his eyes lit up realizing what just happened.

"for what cause your knuckles to bruise" you smiled at him, he would probably do it if it was any girl, but you still stood there in his house.

"so uhm you wanna stay? my parents are out for a while..." he asked scratching the back of his neck

".. if only you let me borrow your physics notes"

"oh uhm yeah sure, come" he lit up once again. he led you to the top of the stairs to his door.

his room was really neat, with his desk organized, he went to the side to take the notes ad you lost focus to him but instead the huge piece placed on his table— your project of the great wall of china rebuilt...

"hey?? are you there" he asked waving his hand in front of you face.

" you took every single piece and rebuilt it?" you stared at him?

"..."

"i did..." and for the second time you do something the past you would never do, kiss him. he hugged you around your waist smiling into the kiss.

today in a new day, jungwon did indeed fall back into pieces because of you.

— end —

OHMYGODDD THIS WAS MY FIRST POST :") i hope yall like it😭

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #jungwon oneshots #enhypen oneshots #yang jungwon #jungwon imagines #jungwon #engene #jungwon x reader

[tuliprry]

sparks - h.s.

summary: y/n meets harry, a much older man while she's on vacation in southern spain.. somehow 45 minutes are all it takes to fall in love

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), cursing, divorce, DRAMAAAAA, age gap, sort of a daddy kink?, lot's of fluff

clover's notes: for some reason tumblr changed my paragraph structure and the little symbols i had to differentiate the moments 🥲 i'll try and fix this

word count: 8.5k

y/n’s pov - august 1st

the sun shined through the hotel curtains and i groaned, i tapped my phone's screen and read 8:35am, it's so hot right now i can actually feel my brain frying, i turned on the air conditioner and closed my eyes. i have been in marbella for a day, i work at a hotel in london and in a hotel get together last month i won a week at the exact same hotel but in marbella. i could've invited a friend or even a cousin but truth be told i need this week away from everyone, my job, my family, school, seriously everyone and everything back in london. i groan once more, 8:39am, fuck this shit i'm getting up. i took a short cold shower in hopes the spanish weather would not eat me alive as soon as i stepped foot outside, i dressed a white dress with little white flowers and beige sandals with a semi decent heel,  i grabbed my  tote bag and threw in a book, my airpods, sunscreen and my wallet. I grabbed my sunglasses and my room card and was out my bedroom, to be honest i didn't want to go out of the hotel and visit, my entire body is honestly needing a piñacolada and a sweet calming time reading my book, which consists of beach reach by emily henry.

the pool area isn't too packed, likely because it's only 9am, i walk over to the bar area and i must've looked desperate ordering that piñacolada because the barman looked at me like i'm some sort of weirdo, maybe its the drinking alcohol at 9am on a tuesday but you see, being 23 and struggling with a master thesis, strangers and a job and your family trying to set you up with a guy you despise from your high school years you might end up just like me. as he prepared my drink i walked over to a sun lounger that hid completely in the shade and dropped my bag on top of it, only taking my wallet back to the bar, "the gentleman already paid for you", i read the name tag on the barman's t-shirt, miguel and almost repeated it out loud to ask him who the gentleman was but miguel was already talking to someone else. i look over the round counter of the bar and there's a very nicely put man with whiskey in a cup in front of him, yikes, must be having a harder week than me. "enjoy your drink" he spoke loudly enough for me to understand it, "thank you for paying for it", i reply taking a sip through the brown paper straw, "ah you're british?" he questions as he plays with his glass, "yeah, are you?" i ask, keeping an eye on my bag, "yeah i am, i come to málaga often so i've got a nice tan", he's sounds so smooth, his words aren't slurring after each other like i do, he speaks slowly but in a sexy way which gets me mentally slap myself. "if you don't mind, i left my bag over there and i have a romance waiting for me, thank you once again for the drink... that was very kind" i announced getting off the high stool and walking away before he could give me a response.

i felt weird the rest of the morning, i couldn't focus on my book nor listen to music, my brain remained stuck on the man from the bar, jesus, i came here to get away from trouble and i'm definitely just burying myself in a big one that happens to dress nicely, my eyes scanned the book one more time, oh this is ridiculous! i have read this sentence a thousand times today and i can’t seem to wrap my head around it. i looked over the book, just to take a peek at the man one more time but he wasn’t at the bar counter anymore, i pout and grab my phone, scrolling through instagram. 

"margarita?" a large shadow covers the little sunshine that was warming my body up, "huh? oh! hi mr british man", i smile to him and my stomach feels bottomless for a second, i sit on my sun lounger as i grab the glass, "so... will british man finally tell me his name?" i ask sipping on the margarita, he sits on the lounger next to mine as he sips on something that definitely isn't a margarita, "i'm harry, you?", "i'm y/n!" i sound way too excited but he smiles at me, "and what does beautiful y/n do in marbella all by herself?", his eyes look like they're undressing my soul, dead ass staring me, "well um, im a masters student and i'm under a lot of pressure so i won this free week at the hotel... and you?", i try to stare him the same way but i end up looking like what my dad calls, angry puppy, "i own a winery and a wine cellar and my wines are very well loved so they also offered me a week over here" he takes another sip of what i now assume it's wine disguised in a margarita glass, "oh! i wouldn't take you as a wine owner" i blurt out, "no?", "well you look like a young writer and you're here to get inspired! or maybe it's just the plot of the book i'm reading" i point at the book and play gently with the little paper umbrella on my glass, "i'm not a writer nor young but i'm glad i still look interesting" he seems genuinely content that i just thought he was just a little older than me, "before you ask.. i turn 39 in february", i almost immediately reply "god thats so hot" but i swallow my words, "i'm 23 and i'm far from being interesting harry, look at me im a 23 year old reading romances hiding from glorious spanish sun and im a masters student in theatre arts that is currently doing a thesis in contemporary musicals and performance.. god i need a sip" he's smiling at me, i don't know why because i feel like i just said the most boring phrase for regular people, "that is very interesting, y/n, at 23 i had no prospects for my future so... you're doing good", oh that was it, my stomach felt even more out of my body with that small praise, i feel my cheeks burn and i try to look away from harry, feeling like a shy child.

it's been 45 minutes and we're still talking, i can't help but stare at him more than i should, so much so i immediately said yes when he asked if we could have lunch together on his boat, didn't even have the decency to think for a minute before getting back to him, truth is sometimes my mind slips to my ex boyfriend, we broke up a month ago and when i opened instagram on the airport yesterday, there he was, spending money on a hotel with a beautiful girl and i had to hold my tears from crying on my first day of vacation and now here's this man.. man... a man! asking me to have lunch on his yacht and it gets my brain so intoxicated with dopamine making a little gentle smile pop up in my lips.

on a small boat, a spanish man took us to harry's yacht, that read "brisa parisina" (parisian breeze), i had never been this close to a yacht ever, my times at the sea were always a month in cornwall with my dad after him and my mum got divorced and we stayed back in london so my siblings and i wouldn't have to change schools, but i had never been so close to such a big boat, harry thanks the man and hands him a 50 euro bill and i gulp looking at the big tip for a 5 minute trip from the deck to harry's yacht, but it’s his money so i try to not show my shocked face as he steps out of the small boat to the ladder that leads to what i assume the deck of the yacht, he reaches his hand out for me and i say “muchas gracias” to the man and get on top of the boat with harry’s help. the immediate thing i see is the light brown flooring that has grey cushions on top on the right and left, leaving a small path towards the helm station that controls the boat that has sofa looking like cushions on both sides and a small table. harry keeps walking through that and gets down the most tight staircase i’ve ever seen and been on, there’s a table, a big tv, and more sofas and even art hanging in the walls, a kitchenette with lots of storage place, four oven tops, a microwave, a sink bigger than mine at home and a small fridge and freezer, my stomach starts to hurt, i had realise this man was rich.. but like not i have a huge yacht rich, right after the kitchen (that even has a small wine compartment and a huge cooking space that has me speechless), there’s another small door that leads to a suite, a huge bedroom that i would not say was behind the tiny door and a very decent sized bathroom. “you can leave your bag here” harry points at the bed and i nod, “there’s another two bedrooms and bathrooms on the other side of the yacht but they’re pretty much the same, just smaller”, not one but two bedrooms? i take my phone out of my bag and type in the brand of the boat on google, 1 million pounds, i almost let a scream out of my mouth as i read the price and then the costs of maintaining a boat like this and my asos dress suddenly feels like a potato bag. i can see harry from where i’m standing, he’s opening a bottle of red wine and i’m tempted to google the price of it too.. but i don’t, i locked my phone and threw it to the bed along with my stuff and walked back to him. 

“okay you have to try this wine, it’s a cabernet sauvignon from my winery in italy, it has a black cherry and black pepper flavour but i think you’ll enjoy it” he hands me a glass, “do you like mushroom paté? i have some we can snack on as i make lunch” i take a sip of the wine and god, i’ve never had red wine this good, in fact i think i’ve hated all the times i had red wine, “i’ve never had wine this good.. nor mushroom paté.. sorry” i can feel my cheeks flush and i look out the small window above the sink, staring at the blue ocean, harry gets closer to me and he looks way taller when he’s this close, “good thing there’s a first time for everything, right?” he whispers but almost melodically, “can i kiss you?” his tone remains the same, give me goosebumps that led to a broken “yes” and placing the wine glass on the kitchenette counter. his hands met my face, both his thumbs on my cheeks, he firstly gives me a peck and then proceeds to kiss me with more passion this time, his tongue in sync with mine, one his hands that was holding my face drops to my waist, pulling me closer to him, i can feel him smile in between the kiss and i open my eyes, “what’s so funny?” i ask trying to make an angry voice, “you taste good that’s all”, “oh yeah?”, “taste very good” he then kisses me again, this time shorter. “what do you want for lunch?” harry opens one of the cupboards over my head and takes a cream coloured saucepan with a brown wood handle out, “you invited me harry i don’t know”, “what about truffled macaroni with smoked haddock and then i let it bake for a bit?” i’m pretty sure i’ve never had haddock in the first place, “harry.. sorry to ask, what’s.. a haddock?”, i feel embarrassed, telling a 38 year old man i’ve never had.. whatever he mentioned, “oh! it’s a fish.. i can always make it vegetarian if you prefer?” i smile to him, “how did you know i want to be a vegetarian?” i furrowed my eyebrows, “i didn’t but i’m a flexitarian so i have tofu in here”, i’m starting to believe this man is too good to be true, “you know i have to follow the times and eating less meat and fish is a way to help the planet”, okay i need to get into his pants now this isn’t a joke, “wow”, “what?”, “nothing, i’m not used to hanging out with men that are educated on these things” i say honestly, he gives me a shy smile and points to the oven, “want to help me cook?”, “yeah of course”. 

after lunch that was paired with a white wine that i honestly couldn’t pronounce, harry sailed the boat to further from the dock, i wouldn’t say we were in the middle of nowhere but we weren’t exactly somewhere i could pin point, my phone even says my location is the mediterranean sea. i’m laying down on the deck sofa’s in the shade as harry is now coming back upstairs wearing only black and white swim shorts and flip flops, “why aren’t you catching some sun, y/n? it’s a great day” he sits next to me, grabbing my legs and putting them on his lap, “i’m terrified of getting a sunburn, i got one a few years ago in sandymouth and i couldn’t sleep for two weeks, i don’t need that again” i sighed closed the book i’m yet to read properly, “oh you’re from cornwall?” harry asks, “my dad lives in plymouth but i’m actually from london, i mean i was born in romford but yeah… you?”, “well i’m from a small town near manchester but i live in london for.. 20 years now”, 20 years… god he was 18 when he moved to london, i was 3 when he was 18 oh my god, “i’ve actually never been to manchester” i admit, i don’t know how is that any interesting but it’s the truth, “whenever you want to, i’m more than happy to show you around” he offers as he stars to rub my legs.. gently, i honestly feel like moaning and he’s not even doing anything too special, “do you mind if i work a little bit next to you?” he doesn’t stop the massage on my right leg, “shouldn’t this be your vacation, harry?”, “it should but-“, “no buts! let me get up lets find something to do” i say enthusiastically, i sit next to him and grab his hand, “do you have any games? we just ate so i don’t think swimming in the cold water is good for us”, “i think my goddaughter left a unicorn cards game when she was here with me” he affirms, “GREAT! let’s play”.

“unstable unicorns, build a unicorn army, betray your friends, unicorns are your friends now” harry reads off the box, to explain quickly, you start the game with one baby unicorn of your choice, and then the deck is shuffled and u get 5 cards, those can be basic unicorns, magic unicorns, magic cards, upgrades, downgrades or a neigh (that stops the other players play), i explain exactly the same to harry, i had played this game with my friends and harry didn’t fully remember how to play, “i pick this baby” i say grabbing a rainbow coloured baby unicorn card, harry picks a pink coloured baby unicorn and says, “this is my god daughters favourite baby”, i smile at the thought of harry with children, “how old is she?”, “she’s 8, we spent her 8th here actually” he observes as he shuffles the deck and places 5 cards in front of each of us, i grab my cards and i try to hide the little smirk on my face, “y/n start you’re the one wearing a colourful bikini” he looks over to me and i place a basic unicorn next to the baby unicorn, “look harry it’s you” i point at the unicorn with a beard, “oh are you calling me basic y/n?” he fakes an angry tone, “no! i’m just saying this very cute unicorn is you because of the beard!” i reply pretending to be offended he thought i was offending him, “don’t be upset, little girl, i was just messing with you” oh good grief i can feel my stomach doing flips, he plays a basic unicorn as well and the came continues, with actions and neighs and yelling at each other over downgrades that made me sacrifice one of my unicorns which led to me stealing harry’s baby unicorn, “HA!” i scream, “I GOT YOOOOOU” she giggles as she places the pink baby on her stable, “y/n! not the baby!” he pouts and stares at his game, i didn’t know he was a sore loser but he seriously looked very upset, i got up and stood next to him, “harry i didn’t mean to upset you it’s just a game, i’ll give you your unicorn back” i affirm, “harry c’mon” i squat so i can look at his face from under, “i’m sorry” i place my hand on his thigh and he looks to me, “don’t be” i don’t even have time to process his words because his lips crash in mine and when i realise we are kissing again, i get up and he follows me, going back to my lips immediately after, running his hands through my shoulders and then my arms. “you scared me” i say in between kisses, “sorry.. it was just sweet to see you that worried about me” he whispers against my mouth, “i didn’t mean to upset you, h”, “you didn’t”, he gives me a little peck, “want to finish the game, unicorn robber?”, “HEY! and yes”. 

i ended up winning the first game and harry the second so we were even but i couldn’t stop thinking about those kisses, i was putting the cards back in the box and harry was making us gin and tonic, “we could go for a swim don’t you think?” he suggests as he’s finishing the drinks, “i’m scared to swim without feeling the sand or ground harry, i’m not exactly tall like you” i admit, “don’t worry, i got you” he says as he places one of the cups in front of me, “i wouldn’t ask if i had intentions of not being there in case you need me, plus it’s 4pm the water must be so great now” he sits next to me and gives me a small forehead kiss before sipping on his gin, “sooooo”, “fine! but don’t let me go”, “i could never”. so we did end up swimming for a bit, mediterranean sea was warm and it felt good to swim with harry, i ended up sitting at the edge of the boat as he swam a little more, “you know you don’t look 38 right” i think the second glass of gin is making me too honest, “i don’t?”, “god no, you look max 28, i swear i was eye fucking you when i saw you sitting at the bar this morning”, “oh.. you were eye fucking me?” he furrowed his eyebrows as he swam back to me, sitting on the small space next to me, “tell me more” he emphasises on the more, “harry…”, i try not to sound worried, “yes?”, i get up and show him my hand so he can follow me, i sit on the sofa right next to the wheel, “i feel like i need to tell you this, i broke up with my boyfriend a month ago, he didn’t have time for me and he barely talked to me and it reached a point i was doing everything alone and i felt like i was the one fighting for my relationship and without me there would be nothing so i broke up with him” i vomit the words, “yesterday when i landed in malaga, he was posting stories on a hotel room with this girl i had seen comment his instagram posts and it really got to me.. and i don’t want to do anything without you knowing this” i breathe out and i feel relieved but worried about what harry could possibly say, “that fucking sucks y/n, i’m really sorry he did that to you, a real man would never do that” he cleans the tear off my cheek, “and i’m glad you told me, gives me more reasons to treat you like a lady deserves to be treated”, oh god here comes the butterflies again, “harry…can i kiss you again?” i ask and he nods, not waiting for me to make a move and kissing me again, salty from the sea and the small drips from our hairs falling onto our faces, “want to go downstairs?” he asks, “yes, please”. 

“harry we’re wet you sure you want to do this now?” i ask mid kiss, “i need you so bad i don’t care”, his hands grab my face, “i just want to make you feel good, bunny”, harry purrs, i immediately press my thighs together to his words and especially the new nickname out of his mouth, “lay down for me, please” he murmured and i laid back as fast as i could, almost desperately harry’s hands meet then my pink high waist bikini bottoms, pulling them along my legs and throwing them to the ground, his hands separated my knees, giving him full view of my vagina, “fuck” he blurted, “can i taste you?”, my legs immediately feel like jell-o when he asks, “yes, yes please” i cried out. he licked his lips and proceeded to kiss my inner left thigh as his free hand massaged my right thigh tenderly, his index finger brushed against my slit, making me whimper to his touch, "god damn y/n" he breathed, "your pussy is so pretty, bunny, all wet... just for me", a couple of words and i was basically melting in front of this man, without warning his warm tongue flicks against my folds, i bucked my hips up and grabbed the sheets, holding onto them, my brain was fuzzy at this point, “harry… harry please” i cried out, i needed him so fucking bad, “hush bunny” i look down and his eyes are filled with lust as his lips part from my pussy, his middle finger slid right in, he eyes me and his mouth finds its way to my clit, gently nibbling on it as his finger thrust inside me, “harry..” i moan as my vision literally starts to go black, “cum for me, bunny” he grunts and i let go of the sheets at the same time i cum in harry’s finger. he removed his finger at the same time his free thumb keeps stimulating my clit, he sucks his finger and then looks at me with a grin on his face, “you taste so fucking good”,  but i don’t have time to reply, he’s cleaning the cum off my already so sensitive cunt.

he moves his body up to kiss me, there’s saliva running down his chin and falling onto my chest, “see how good you taste, y/n? fuck you’re driving me insane”, he untangles the straps of my bikini top, that ends up on the bedroom floor as well, “your tits are perfect”, he hungry says as he pinches my nipples, a hint of pain all over my body when he does that but it feels to good, his mouth is busy getting to know my other nipple, “i love that you taste like the sea” he admits. in a swift he takes his swimming trunks, his cock is pressed against my pussy and i’m so close to begging him to fuck me, hard. “harry.. i need you, please”, he kisses my lips one more time as his cock pushes in inside me, slowly, inch by inch, i was already so sensitive that whatever game this man was trying to play was making me dizzy, speechless. once he was all in, his thrusts became more rapid and in sync, hitting my g spot, his index finger was back on my clit rubbing it frantically, he kissed me and i could feel my heart racing and my pussy clenching around him, “harry, harry i’m gonna cum” my legs start shaking, “fuck fuck wait for me” he pleads and i hold onto his back, pressing my nails against it, my eyes roll back as he collapses inside me with one last thrust. shockwaves through my entire body feeling his warmth inside of me.

“has anyone ever told you..you give the best orgasms ever? fuck, you’re such a good girl” harry cooed, making my already flushed cheeks burn even more, “actually i.. i had never had an orgasm with anyone if not… myself”, harry looks at me dead serious as he carefully removes himself from inside me, “a day of firsts, huh, bunny?” he kisses me, “if you keep calling me bunny i fear i need you to fuck me again” i blur out, “oh yeah, bunny? how about we talk about it in the shower?”

by the time we were done in the shower it was too late to come back to the port deck so harry ended up giving me one of his t-shirts and briefs, “what do you want for dinner?”, he asks, grabbing the already opened bottle of red wine, “is it bad that.. i want to say you?”, “okay i know you said i don’t look old but twice in a day almost put me on cardiac arrest, little girl”, i giggle to his response and hug him from behind, “sorry! i think i’m intoxicated by you, i just need you so fucking bad”, he looks at me, pensive, “jesus christ, y/n…you’re a filthy slut aren’t you?” he turns around, looking me in the eyes, “you’re probably ruining my briefs just by thinking about me fucking you, am i right?”, i stand immobile, i can’t even find any words to describe how wet i am or how he’s completely right, “aw, did i make my princess speechless?”, he gets his face closer to mine, “if you behave like the good little girl i know you are..maybe just maybe, daddy will take care of you before bed” he turns around getting various vegetables out of the fridge, “care to help me, princess?”, i gulp and quickly reply, “yes of course”.

i woke up to harry’s typing on his laptop, i groaned as i stretched my arms and legs next to him, “harry… you told me you wouldn’t work c’mon” i sit and place my head on his shoulder, “sorry, my ex wife sent me an email saying she wants the yacht for the 21st of august and i was telling her no because i got the yacht on the divorce”, my smile fades and it’s like i’m close to throw up, ex.. ex wife.. he was married? oh. “oh.. your ex?.. wife?”, he closes his laptop and places his hand on my thigh, “yeah, we got divorced 5 years ago” he squeezes my thigh as he speaks, “you don’t need to worry y/n.. 24 hours with you made me feel more alive than 2 years with her”, he kisses my forehead and i smile to myself, god what is this man doing to me, i’m here jealous over an ex wife and happy i won something she’s not even in the race for, “harry” i say, “yeah?”, “can we go back to marbella? i really want my clothes” he laughs and nods in agreement. 

~

back at the hotel, harry is sitting at the edge of my bed, “harry i’m not sure i should join you to golf.. you’re golfing with santiago hernandez, my literal boss!”, “and have u ever met him?”, “no he has never been to the london hotel in the 2 years i’ve worked there but that doesn’t mean it’s not weird” i turn my back to him, “zip my dress up, please?” i ask, he zips the yellow sundress up carefully, “y/n just join me, princess, if he asks just say you work for me”, “yes, because i’m a great wine expert!” i mock him as i gesture my hands, indicating that harry is insane. “i can always say you’re my wife, my very sexy wife”, he pulls me closer and buries his face in my boobs, “i can even mark you up, so he knows you’re all mine” i feel my panties soaking already, “harry.. fine! but just because it’s a very good argument” i try to hide the smile on my face, “but care to explain how are we married without wedding rings?” i raise his chin up, “we can always buy them”, “harry i have £64 on my account, i can maximum buy a claire’s ring that will turn my finger green” i give him a gentle peck, “oh no no you’re MY wife, i’m buying you a wedding band… if he asks your engagement ring is getting cleaned”, “you really thought this through, huh?”, “when it comes to you, i don’t see money, princess, i’m spoiling you for as long as you want me to” he kisses my neck, “about those marks… can i please?” i let out an “mhm”, i loved how harry constantly asked me for consent but at the same time was assertive and a couple of words would literally make me ruin a pair of panties. 

i looked in the mirror before leaving, noticing the hickey on my left boob, i tried to brush off my thoughts but i just couldn’t. harry was matching me, yellow pants and green polo, looking way too good for my thoughts to go away, i can’t play golf, in fact i think i’ve only played mini golf my entire life, “sweetpea, do you prefer gold or silver?” harry asks, looking at a collection of wedding bands, “i personally like gold more” i say, looking at a pair of golden hoops with daisies dangling from it, “do you like them?” harry looks over my shoulder, “yeah they’re pretty…. don’t even think about it” i give him a “mean” look, “fine! just choose the band you like the most” he says pointing at the golden wedding bands, “that one is pretty and simple”, “then that one it is”. he’s purchasing the wedding bands and i stand next to him just staring, “it’ll be those daisy earrings too”, he points and i gasp, “harry no?”, “y/n yes.. it’s my money, just let me get them.” he hands in a black card to the salesperson and i hold his free hand, still a little upset. harry drives us to the los naranjos golf club, before we get out of the car, each of us puts the wedding band, i feel so weird at first, i’ve never been a good liar and this was a big fucking lie. at the reception harry shows his membership to the club and then points at me, “she’s my wife”, i press my lips together so i don’t say something i shouldn’t and i stand there eyeing the red haired woman, “oh we can put your wife down for a membership”, she points at a computer screen, “maybe later, would that be okay?” harry’s arm is wrapped around my waist, tightly. “yeah of course, mr. styles, here’s your wife’s pass for the day”, she hands me a laminated pass that proves i can he there for the day and we make our way in, harry gripping onto my waist still, “oh hello harry” a tall man with brown hair a beige hat speaks up as he walks in our direction, “santiago! hey man”, i gulp, to be totally honest i had never seen the man that pays my paycheck so i just hold harry as well, hoping he does all the talking, “you got remarried?” santiago asks laying his eyes on me, “yeah dude, it was a very spontaneous thing but i couldn’t wait any longer”, harry smiles at me, “this is y/n.. y/n this is santiago” he introduces us and i reach my hand but santiago comes in for a kiss on each cheek, “it’s how we do it in spain” he exclaims. “will y/n be playing with us?” before harry can reply i let out a laugh, “god no i’ve never payed golf”, “play with us sweetpea, i’ll teach you”. 

“i’ve only ever played mini golf with my nephews”

“you have nephews?”

“yes two and they always lose”

“it would be bad if you lost mini golf to children don’t you think y/n?”

“oh yeah? i bet u a thousand kisses that i win mini golf back in london”

“you’re on, princess”

it’s been an hour and a half, i’m sitting on the golf cart, drinking a mojito as i wait for my turn to play, a woman that i assume is santiago’s wife is also sitting here, she’s not playing though, she’s on the phone talking about pta meetings and dentist appointments, she sometimes glances at me and does a very disgusted face, “y/n! baby! it’s your turn” harry screams, i place the mojito on the cart and i run to him, “help me?” i kiss him and he places himself behind me, “i know exactly what you are doing y/n and it’s not funny” he whispers in my ear and puts my arms in the correct angle, “be a good little girl for me, yeah?” harry then kisses my cheek and moves my arms so the club hits the little white ball. “i think santiago’s wife hates me” i mention it to harry, grabbing his hand, “what? why? did she say anything to you?” his relaxed expression is now a worried one, tensing his eyebrows, “no.. she just looks at me weird” i sigh, “is she.. friends with your ex wife?” i regret the question the moment i ask it, “yeah.. she is, i’m so sorry y/n, i didn’t even think about it when i asked you, she usually doesn’t even come to our games.. i’m really sorry, princess” i frown as he explains, his lips kiss my forehead, “it’s okay” i lie, walking back to the cart, drinking the rest of my mojito. 

harry’s pov

after the game y/n ran to the bathroom, the mojito really took a toll on her bladder, so i’m outside with santiago and phillipa, i feel tense just thinking that phillipa could’ve possibly mentioned lauren to y/n or mentioned y/n to lauren, “so harry, santiago told me you got remarried… i asked lauren and she had no idea” phillipa says with a cynical tone, “that’s because lauren is my ex wife, she doesn’t need to know what i do with my life” i snark back, “and isn’t your new wife.. kinda young” phillipa strikes again, santiago touches her arm and i breathe in, “she looks like she’s still university… oh wait she is! isn’t that weird, harry? marrying a woman that is maximum 24?” her words ringing in my ears, “phillipa mi amor, don’t” santiago says sternly, “what? santiago she’s much younger than him, would u go for a younger woman?”, “he’s divorced he can do whatever he wants, pipa, c’mon!”.

and then i see her, with two ice cream cups on her hand, “they had the absolutely disgusting mint chip” y/n hands me the cup, “yuck” she exclaims, “oh.. sorry guys i didn’t know what flavours you liked”, i don’t know how this woman does it, has me grabbed by the throat, completely whipped when i’ve known her for a little over 24 hours. “oh that’s okay y/n” santiago says, “pipa and i were just leaving… i’m sorry harry” he says as he shakes my hand and leaves, semi yelling at phillipa. “what happened?” y/n asks, grabbing a scoop of her pistachio ice cream, “nothing, want to go back to the hotel?”.

the next 5 days fly by, y/n moved her stuff into my room and we have been doing everything together, so much so we have not taken the wedding bands off, y/n asked if we could keep wearing them and i couldn’t say no, i could never say no to her. so we are now at the málaga airport, y/n is going through a romance section of books in english and telling me how she has read at least 90% of the books in there, “harry my tummy hurts, do you have any paracetamol with u?” she asks and i get out of my daydreamy state of mind, “i think i do, what’s wrong?” i open my tote bag and hand the tablet to y/n, “my period must be starting soon”, “oh nooo my sweet princess, do you want a kiss?” i don’t wait for her reply and start kissing her face, “are you sure you want to.. continue this back in london?”, “what? y/n, i’m so sure of this.. of us.. i’m still wearing a fake wedding band for you..i’m 100% sure.”

~

y/n’s pov 

life back in london has definitely been special, minus the fact that whenever i say i’m sleeping over at willow’s i actually mean i’m staying at harry’s and i use the name of his cat.. but other than that, things are good, harry presented me to some of his friends, goes to musicals with me, ended up meeting my younger sister milly, to drop off a christmas gift at my house, making my youngest sister jane force me to facetime harry on christmas day so she could meet him too, a very persuasive 15 year old.. and god the sex, i don’t think i’ve ever had this much fun in my life ever, this man just knows exactly how to treat me right, driving me completely insane at times.

6 months later 

today is harry’s birthday, i spent my morning in class and basically prayed the tube would be fast as fuck so i could be at harry’s house by lunch time, i got there around 2:13pm, starving, i opened harry’s apartment door and was greeted by willow, “oh hi my sweet girl” i say enthusiastically, “where’s your dad” i chase willow to the kitchen, harry is naked, only wearing an apron as he cooks what i bet it’s his tomato and beans pastry, “i don't know what looks better, my husband naked or your famous pastry” i giggle as i put my bags on the floor and run to kiss him, “happy birthday my love”, i kiss him again, “to your question, both are great things, second, thank you, princess” he kisses my forehead, “okay! i have your gifts, do you want to open them now?” i ask grabbing the bags i put on the floor, “three bags? y/n i told u to not spend money on me” his tone is demanding, almost mean, and i can’t help but love it, “oh one of these i have to put on and you take it off, ya know?” his eyes widened, “oh i do know” he smirks. harry’s gifts are an intimacy card deck for us to play on our stay in date nights, the lingerie set with hearts that he said and i’ll quote “would love to fuck you in this” so..i got it and an electric wine opener, personalised with his name, “fuck princess, you treat me so good” this kiss is more passionate than when i got home, “do you want me to put this on?” i question him, innocently, “yes fuck yeah baby please”.

sex with harry is always a religious experience, doesn’t matter if it’s morning, afternoon or night he always finds a way to exhaust the life out of me… in a very good way, harry is on his laptop looking for the same lingerie set, because even though i asked, he ripped the bra trying to get it off, my legs still feel wobbly, i check the time on my phone and it’s 5pm, our dinner reservation is only at 8pm so i have more than enough time to rest, i look at myself in the bathroom mirror, god i look like i’ve been through a tornado, i take my eyeliner (or the rest of it) off and brush my hair putting it on a ponytail, i pee and i go the bedroom to get a new pair of panties, “harry where’s my care bears robe?” i ask mid yawn, “behind the bathroom door, love” i nod and put the fake wedding band on my finger, i see harry smiling to himself, “oh shut up” i say walking into his bathroom again and putting on a dark pink robe with various care bears drawings that matched the care bears slippers, this was one of harry’s christmas gift to me, he said he had never met anyone that loved care bears as much as me, i smile at the memory. the doorbell rings and i get out of the bathroom, “get dressed harry it’s likely a friend of yours to wish you a happy birthday”, “oh when did you get so demanding”, “c’mooooon get dressed old man!”. 

i run downstairs and i open the door, “..you’re not harry” the woman grunts, “no….i’m his-“, “oh you’re the new wife.”, “um.. i’ll go get.. harry” i’m so confused by this woman i just rush upstairs again, “there’s a woman at the door” i sit in bed, petting willow, “a woman?”, “yeah.. mid 30s.. brunette.. brown eyes, gucci bag” i try and describe her, “oh” that’s all he says. “oh? why oh? who is that- oh” i put two and two together, i had always told harry i didn’t want to know who his ex wife was and that came right after me, “come with me, please, i don’t want to be with her alone” harry lets out a loud sigh, “of course harry” in reality i’m shitting myself. he goes ahead of me and she has made herself at home, sitting on the sofa, “what do you want, lauren?”, she gets up and goes to hug him but harry immediately stops her, “oh is that how you greet your ex-wife?.. didn’t take you for a rude person, harry. i guess your new wife has changed you” bitch, bitch, BITCH, is all i can think, my blood is boiling so hard, it feels illegal to be angry in care bear clothing. “you’re my ex wife for a reason, can you please tell me what the fuck do you want?” harry puts himself in front of me and i clench my fists out of anger, “came to wish you a happy birthday, baby”, “my god lady will you please get the fuck out” i yell, i don’t know where that came from but i feel angry and upset and close to beating her up if she doesn’t leave my home, i mean, harry’s home. “what? are you gonna let her speak to me like that?” she looks offended, good. “yes, get out of our home, now”… our home. our home.

harry and i don’t talk about what happened until we’re at the restaurant, he’s wearing a white shirt that isn’t buttoned all the way up, black pants with golden buttons and black loafers, he had a big heavy black coat on top that is now on the back of his chair, i’m wearing a ruffled light blue dress with spaghetti straps, the dress reaches my mid thigh and it’s freezing in february so i have tights on, my white doctor martens and a puffy jacket that is on my chair as well. he holds my hand on top of the table, “y/n.. i only love you, please know that.. well you and willow”, “i love you so much harry, i’m sorry this day isn’t your best birthday”, “don’t be silly, i spent 38 dreadful birthdays, i’m glad 39th is with the love of my life.” harry orders the wine for us, as usual, we both happen to go for pasta dishes… which let’s be honest is also the usual, “harry i’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?” he nods as he’s munching on garlic bread. as i get out of the bathroom i see my older brother, angus,  standing in front of me, “angus??? what the fuck” i whisper-yell at him, “y/n? what are you doing here? did mum and dad invite u?” that question almost made me die in front of him, “mum and dad are here?? fuck no! angus, angus do not tell them i’m here please! i’ll babysit jacob and matthew anytime u ask me to, u don’t even have to pay me anything” i’m desperate at this point, “heeeeeeeeey okay that’s a very big promise y/n.. oh good lord are you here with that older guy? IS THAT A WEDDING BAND” he just yelled that to the entire restaurant, “angus shut up!” as i yell back to my brother. i see my dad staring at the both of us causing a scene in a restaurant, my dad just recently got remarried…to his husband… paul and things in the family haven’t been easy, especially between him and my mum, which led him to flee the table looking for my brother for some peace, “y/n cookie, what are you doing here?”, “dad i’m here with my boyfriend but can u please, please not tell mummy?” i hope he can sense the panic in my voice because i’m literally about to throw up. “okay cookie, breathe love” my dad side hugs me, brushing his fingers through my cheek, “angus and i won’t tell mummy okay? go enjoy your dinner, cookie” i breathe out the air i was holding in and go back to the table. “i was going to look for you, y/n, i was getting worried” harry sits back down, “why are you shaking, what’s wrong?”, “my brother, my dad, my nephews…and my mum are all here..we are so fucked harry, my brother saw the wedding band and i’m pretty sure my dad did too but he promised not to say anything to my mum………..that is walking in our direction right now” this is it. i’m fucked. i’m so fucked, i don’t even know why i’m fucked at almost 24 but i’m fucked because i hid my relationship with a man 16 years my senior from my entire family but my siblings and i’m fucked. “y/n y/s/n y/l/n why are your brother and your father trying to lie to me? who is this?” oh god, i only have time to hide my hand under the table and breathe in and out. “hi mummy… um i.. this is harry” i’m stuttering, “hello ms y/l/n” harry gets up and stares at her, not knowing exactly what to do, “and what are you to my daughter?”, “i’m.. her boyfriend”, “y/n what is this?” i try to speak but nothing comes out of my mouth, i had nothing planned, i was thinking of maybe introducing harry to my family on my birthday party so it would be easier, “um.. uh.. well.. you know.. he..” i take my hand from under the table and hide my face in both my hands. bad idea. “oh my god, you got married to this man? how old are you? 50?” she starts yelling and i feel small, if i didn’t have words before now i just don’t want to be here anymore, my brother is trying to calm her down, harry is explaining they’re promise rings and he’s 39 which in my mum’s head is now 50 and my dad is holding the twins by the hand.

what. a. fucking. birthday. 

i’m sitting on a bench, crying, harry is talking with my brother and my nephews and my parents are sat, one on each side, “amelia, let me do the talking, okay?” my dad snaps at my mum, “we just got expelled from a restaurant because of you, let ME do the talking” i had never seen my father this mad, “cookie, i understand your mum’s point by seeing you with a much older man, but i don’t understand why you didn’t come to us”, he’s now doing the cheek thing again, “because mum would make the exact same scene and harry would just see me as the stupid little girl that still needs her parents approval though she’s 23” i pout, i truly feel like a child with my reactions, “listen y/n.. i didn’t mean to cause a scene, bubs, i saw the rings and you know harry looks much older than you and i thought he was trying to hurt you” i swallow my tears, “how.. how long have you been dating this man”, “since august”, “AUGUST?”, “yes i’m so sorry”, i let my tears out again, “no, y/n don’t say sorry.. i feel so hurt with myself that you didn’t felt like it was safe to tell us for 6 months.. do milly and jane know?” when she mentions my younger sisters my expression changes from sad to guilty, “angus, milly and jane all knew… but only milly met harry”, “milly met harry?”, “yeah harry dropped off my christmas present at home and milly was the one that helped him…remember my friend willow.. the one i sleep over a lot and got me the care bears robe.. well willow is the name of harry’s cat” i just sat there in silence, i looked over at harry and the twins and i was no longer listening to my parents, “harry” i call out, “please come meet my mum and dad”. 

i get up and stand next to him, “mummy, dad, this is harry, my boyfriend” i hold his hand tightly, playing with his wedding band.. i frown my eyebrows, i had never realised, his band was engraved with our initials.

the end (or not)

taglist: @psicostyles@behindmygreyeyes@your-local-lesbian-on-lexapro@mvaldez7821@tiktokandtvismylife @silvermistwannabe @harrysgoldenhome @subbbyharry @buckybarnessimpp@gabshouse @sassqwn @thegirlnextdoorssister @theanxietyqueen17 @michellekstyles

#harry styles imagine #harry fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x you #harry styles blog #harry styles writing #tuliprry #older!harry #older harry #older harry styles #harry blurb #harry styles oneshot

[jjks-dodo]

thinking about overload of the Six Eyes.. and how the reverse curse tech can’t catch up the dmg of the overload

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #thinking about what would gojo do after geto leaves him.. i think he'd just accepts all the missions coming to him without any break #so that he doesn't have time to think about geto... #and what if his eyes are getting out of control and he can't even close his eyes because the eyes just keeps chasing curse energy #he would feel his brain frying up but if there's a curse in front of him #he'd still use his power #probably gonna get smacked by shoko later and forced to wear bandage around his eyes for couple days.. #just thinking lol

[writertothemaximum]

is it alright if you can make a male reader version of the high!rinne amagi x reader fic? only when you’re ready to write the full thing, of course :]

Note: This pretty much the same as the Rinne/Reader fic posted a while ago, just now with male pronouns, and male uh, parts. A lot of stuff has been reworded, but I hope it does the trick! Thanks for reading!

Rinne Amagi x Male Reader

Summary: You mostly just expected to pick your friend up from a club, the last thing you thought was to get hit on by some wasted guy. Although, he certainly looked familiar…

Word Count: 2k

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045316/chapters/59423728

Warnings are under the cut for containing nsfw/18+ content

Warnings: nsfw/smut (18+), sex under the influence of drugs, bisexual Rinne, sub!Rinne, slut!Rinne, male!reader, fellatio, choking, anal fingering, non-sexual pissing, excessive amounts of cursing

The first thing that hit you when you entered the club was how dark it was. How through all the flashing lights, you couldn’t see a thing. How the wall of heavy bass rang noiselessly back and forth into your head, bouncing to the beat of its own drum. The shaking of the wall of people undulating like a wave, bouncing endlessly like the ocean.

It was 11:30 p.m. already and your friend called you, waking you up, to drive her home. At least it wasn’t 3:00 a.m. like last time. This is why you told her to stop going to raves all the time. It was rotting her brain.

You had waited outside for twenty minutes already, but a part of you felt overwhelmed by everything in front of you. How everything was so dark until the lights flashed, how everything was so quiet because you couldn’t hear anything but bass, drums, and bass. There was an electrifying energy to it all and you felt it sap away at you like a leech.

Sticking your hands out to feel around you, you noticed that there were clear paths around the main crowd. Maybe if you could go around you might have a chance at finding her. You hoped she wasn’t off puking in a bathroom stall. Well, it might not be so bad, at least that way it wouldn’t be in your car.

There was a gray-haired boy shouting on stage. He had a very long tongue. He looked a lot like the dude from that idol group, Crazy B. You wondered if people like that really went to clubs like this. You wondered if a part of it was outing all the stress they went through, how difficult it would be to explain where they went, explain where the pictures came from. Although, you supposed, people like that might just not care.

You felt a hand against your shoulder and you turned around.

A six-foot-tall black shadow loomed over you.

“God, your skin is so soft,” you heard him saying.

Was he talking to you? It looked like he was shouting, but you couldn’t really tell. You couldn’t really hear anything, it was so impersonal.

The man started to attach his body to you, getting very close into your personal space. A part of you was worried that he was going to grind against you, although there was a lot worse and he didn’t seem to be particularly harmful, if not a little touchy. His skin was absolutely burning, frying as it touched your skin. Did he have a fever?

You pulled away, worried that there was something wrong with him, but he just got closer again.

The lights flashed on him.

Redhead, huh.

“Look, buddy, I got to find my friend, could you get off me,” you shouted, worried that trying to talk to him would make your throat scratchy.

The bass dropped and he leaned down in, to get close to you.

“I think I’m in love,” he said, screaming into the void. “You know I’m usually not into butch girls, you got such a nasty expression. I’d tap that.”

What the fuck was he going on about? Was he shitfaced? He didn’t smell like alcohol. Normally your instincts would have you get the fuck away from someone like this, but he seemed cute and you were a little bit pent up. Anyways, with him all trashed like that, it would be difficult for him to fight back. Sighing, realizing that this was now your problem, you dragged him into the room closest to your right.

Turns out it was the bathroom.

A sense of relief hit you as soon as you realized how much better it felt to be under constant light and less noise. The music was still pumping blood into your head, you smashed him into the wall, pinning him down.

You finally got a good chance to look at his face. There were beads of sweat pouring down his headband.

This was Rinne Amagi, there was no doubt about it. Clinging to you. High off his ass.

It was a little difficult to not want to take advantage of this situation.

“What the fuck are you on?” you asked, dryly.

“Mo~lly~” he said, singing out each syllable, completely ignoring the music blasting in the distance.

Ah, well that explained it. You hoped your friend chose a clean strain this time.

You grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into one of the stalls, chucking him onto the ground, just short of the toilet seat. You wondered how gross that ground was, you wondered how many people had vomited on it, how many people shot up in here. You hated it here, your friend would have to hire a ride next time.

Rinne leaned forward, grabbing awkwardly at your chest, like he was trying to grope you. Your chest wasn’t particularly sensitive. It’s not like you had tits or anything. You’d never had another guy do that to you.

“Huh?” Rinne asked, furrowing his brow. “Your tits are kinda flat, Jesus christ.”

You frowned at him.

“You know I’m a dude, right?” you asked, somewhat deadpanned.

Rinne blinked incredibly slowly, letting all the blood rush back into his head. Frustrated and high on energy, his hand shot up and ruffled through his hair, scratching at his scalp. He took a deep breath.

“I kinda thought you were masc for a girl. Fuck, guess I’m gay now,” he said, ending with a sigh. “Wouldn’t be the first time, actually.”

Smirking, Rinne sank to the floor, mouthing at the front of your jeans, playing with the zipper.

“So, uh,” he said, his eyes lolling forward. “You wanna get sucked, sir?”

Sighing, you pulled down your pants and underwear, grabbed his head, and stuck your dick, still somewhat flaccid, into his mouth.

As Rinne was too surprised to respond, you decided to push into his lips. At least the warmth felt good around your shaft. He was supporting your body weight, at least. He wasn’t pushing you off.

“Come on asshole, didn’t you say you wanted to suck me off?” you asked, your tone harsh, your length beginning to harden in his lips.

That’s when you felt the tongue and everything started feeling better. He started by sucking his cheeks inwards, creating a nice seal around your dick. Sloppy and wet, Rinne began to move. Putting one shoe against the toilet rim, you straddled his face, adjusting so that you could shove your dick further down his throat. You heard slight choking sounds, the man clearly not used to this.

Not getting enough friction, you grabbed the back of his head and pushed it against you, his whole face smothered by your crotch, his nose resting pleasantly in your pubes. You felt his breath heave, struggling for air. You slammed your hips into his mouth, cutting off any circulation, cutting off any hope of him being able to breathe.

It felt so good to have him choke against you. That look in his eyes. Piercing blue, piercing through you as he was deep-throating you, struggling, in pain. It felt like minutes that you had him there, sucking against you endlessly, gagging, choking.

You felt it all rise at once and you came down his throat. You grabbed his hair and pulled him off of you, his face smeared with thick fluid and a wide grin, cum seeping from his lips.

“Damn! That wasn’t so bad!” Rinne shouted, laughing, slapping his leg. “Where else do I find men like you?”

He was still kneeling on the ground. He was really hard. A part of you wondered if it was a blow-and-go sort of deal or if Rinne expected more. Well, it wouldn’t be too difficult to take care of him when he was like this.

“Up your ass,” you said, answering his question sarcastically. “Now get on the seat and turn around.”

He grabbed your hand, his own still burning, blistering with heat. He licked it, your jizz still smeared across his face.

“How is your skin so tingly? It’s so cold, like an ice-cube. I want to keep touching you…”

You grabbed his shoulders and twisted him around, having him lean over the metal flusher. It wasn’t your first time by any means, but it was certainly your first with someone this trashed. You wondered if he’d even be able to keep his dick up or if the drugs even affected that. You fumbled with the jacket around his waist, his belt, and his zipper before finally pulling his pants down. You figured that you weren’t the first person to be frustrated at how much shit he had on.

It was quite the sight when you got a good look at his ass. It was definitely as toned as you had expected, but a little fattier than it looked on the outside. You put your hand around it and gave it a squeeze, not having much give. He had a nice ass. It made sense why it was so easy for him to slut around like this.

“You got lube?” you asked. “I’m gonna finger you, okay?”

“Jacket pocket,” he responded, barely hesitating.

Of course he had lube in his jacket pocket. You fished it out, avoiding the bags of pills. The bottle was almost empty, too. Lube crusted onto the side, it looked like he never bothered to even close the lid. Squeezing hard, some spat out onto your hand.

He seemed relaxed enough, so you started with one finger. You weren’t sure how often he had taken it up the ass.

“Haaanghn~”

The sound he made was rather lovely. Well, at least it seemed like he liked it.

“God, your dick feels so good~” he moaned into the room.

It was a single finger. You just came. What human would be able to get it up again that quickly?

Sighing, you inserted another finger. His insides were so loose. Clearly, he was comfortable enough to do something like this, clearly, he could have taken more if you were more prepared. He squeezed around you, as if he was caressing a dick, making sure that you felt good, making sure that his ass got as much friction as he possibly could around you. Everything felt like it was on fire, burning, melting, scorched around your fingers, overheating, overwhelmed by warm emotions.

When you pulled your fingers out a bit, you could hear him whine.

You slapped his ass, hard, and he half about choked up a lung. It was a good sound. He was making a lot of good sounds. A lot better than the washed away, thumping bass in the distance. It almost didn’t bother you anymore. If anything, it was a good beat to move your fingers in and out at.

You reached around to grab his dick, burning just like how the rest of his body was. How out of it was. How distracted he was getting. He was starting to bang his head to the music. You were worried he was going to smash it against the metal flushing valve.

Like a noodle in boiling water, you felt him start to go limp in your hand. Rinne still moaned, his ass still clenching around you. He groaned and warm liquid traced down your hand. You didn’t even wait till the smell hit you to shove him off.

His whole body slumped over the toilet, his hips pointed straight down at dinghy tap water. You could hear the stream of liquid pour out as he pissed himself.

You pinched your nose so you didn’t have to smell it.

“Yeah, that’s it, I think you’re done for tonight,” you said, wiping your hand on your pants.

“Aw, fuck,” he groaned out, his voice as sloppy as his body.

Reaching into your pocket, you took out an old receipt and wrote your number on it, letting it float down and land peacefully on his back. Sighing, you slammed the stall door behind you, groaning about the fact that you still had to find your friend.

#ensemble stars #enstars x reader #enstars #rinne amagi #rinne amagi x reader #male reader #dom!reader #w2tmfics

[f1nalboys]

Okay, okay! So I love your poly!Ghostface dark/angst, but I wanna see you do some poly!Ghostface dark/fluff too(if that's a thing?)! Still unhealthy/toxic relationship, but one where their feelings are at least actually true and genuine. Trio vs the World shit. Best Friends to Lovers blah blah blah cause you know Im a slut for that lmao. NSFW too if you're willing 👀

AHH so glad I finally got to this request I'm sorry it took me so long :(( HOWEVER i had fun writing it!! i really hope you enjoy (ps, no smut unfortunately i tried to add it and it was coming out wrong ahhh) flashbacks are italicized! 

WORD COUNT: 2352

WARNINGS: toxic relationship, kinda cute moments between the three of you, cursing, little bit of stalking, threats of violence, no nsfw because i was a little lazy sorry :,(

Had someone told you five years ago that you'd be dating not only Billy Loomis but Stu Macher as well, you’d have laughed straight in their face. And yet here you were, curled up on the couch between the two, your legs thrown over Billys and your head resting on Stu’s shoulder, watching a horror movie. You smile softly as you feel Billy’s hand grip your thigh slightly. He never seemed to realize he was doing it which made it even cuter.

“Remember the day I met you guys?” You question, head moving off of Stu’s shoulder when he turns to look at you. He gives you a goofy grin and nods, kissing the tip of your nose. “Sure, baby. Why?”

“Did you think we would have gotten together? Like, back then?”

“Definitely,” Billy says, poking his finger into your side. You raise an eyebrow at him, catching his hand and holding it in your lap. He sighs, grinning slightly. “Alright, maybe not the day we met, but I knew pretty soon. Why? What’s got you thinking about it?”

You shrug, not really sure yourself. Something about the situation you three were in at the moment made your mind drift to those few awful god damn weeks. “You two really sucked then, you know? Honestly, I’m surprised I didn't kill you both.”

Stu gasps, throwing himself back with a hand on his heart. You roll your eyes; ever the dramatic. “You would have hurt us? I can’t believe this… the betrayal!” You elbow him and he sits back up, laughing, and wraps his arms around you, planting a few sloppy kisses onto your neck.

“We weren’t even that bad, babe.” Billy says, eyes widening as you glare at him.

“Not that bad? Do I need to remind you of the first thing you said to me when we met?” You shoot back, sitting up closer to Stu. You had already forgiven the two for how they acted then, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give them a hard time.

The first day you met Billy and Stu, it had started out good. You still didn’t have many friends but that was perfectly okay with you. You were sat in the grass outside one of the buildings where your next class was held, waiting. Thirty more minutes and you got to go to math; yay. You were leaned up against a tree, headphones in, trying to relax, when two men stood in front of you. They were pretty cute. One was tall, wearing a thin sweater and a goofy grin, while the other was shorter with dark hair and a smirk. The tall one's mouth moves and you pull your earbuds out, about to apologize for not hearing him, when the shorter one speaks.

“Pretty stupid to wait for someone to talk to you before taking your headphones out.” His smile was still there but it was clearly masking his annoyance. Your eyebrows raise in surprise at the gall of this dude. You don’t even know him and he thinks he’s owed a conversation?

“Excuse me?”

“What? You’re deaf and a bitch?” The taller one slaps the back of his head immediately and he grumbles, rubbing the soreness. You scoff, shaking your head, fuming. Was it just this dude or were most people here dicks? You didn't want to find out.

You stand, grabbing your bag and pushing past the two, heading towards the building. Your eyes instantly roll into the back of your head when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. “Hey, I’m sorry about him, really. That’s how he jokes and sometimes it comes across as mean. I’m Stu and he’s Billy.”

Stopping in your tracks you turn to face Stu, the taller one, and take a second to think of a response. Glancing over at Billy, who had finally caught up with you, you can see what resembles regret on his features. “Well, he didn’t come across as mean, he came across as an asshole.”

Stu laughs, nodding. Billy shrugs, giving you that same weak smile he had shown when he approached. You shrug your backpack up higher onto your shoulder, the weight of it starting to get to you, when Billy grabs ahold of it and yanks it off of you. “What the hell? Give me my shit back!”

“Least I can do is to carry it for you. You going to class?” He asks. It’s like he wasn’t taking no for an answer. You give a large sigh and nod, silently thankful for the weight off your shoulders. “Which building?”

“Sycamore.” He nods and begins to walk there, you and Stu trailing behind him. “Is he always so...?” You ask Stu under your breath, trailing off, unsure of a word that could describe the man. He grins and nods. “Annoying? Mean? Stubborn? Yes, yes, and yes.”

Billy groans at the memory, annoyed. He hated when you brought that up. “I told you I was just having an off day! Come on, you’re acting like Stu didn’t offend you too! Do you not remember when you got food with us, like, that night?” Stu punches Billy in the shoulder hard, pissed that he had brought it up.

“Oh yeah! I kinda forgot about how much of a dickhead Stu was,” You say, leaning back against the couch. It really was a shock your relationship with the boys got to where it was now.

Billy and Stu followed you around all day. It seemed they were trying to apologize for Billy’s attitude earlier but, if you were being honest, it was kind of unnerving. After your math class, where they had walked you inside the building and only left when the professor came in, you saw them waiting outside under the tree you had been at.

“Can you guys stop following me?” You had told them the third time you noticed them, this time at the small diner you stopped by after your last class. Stu’s face turned red and he looked behind him as if there was someone else you could be talking about. “Yeah, you two.”

“We wanted to apologize for earlier,” Billy said, motioning for you to join them at their table. You had to choose which one to sit next too and, after your not-so-pleasant meeting with Billy that morning, you sat next to Stu. He sticks his tongue out at Billy who rolls his eyes.

“You already apologized. It’s getting kind of creepy.” You say, placing your elbow on the table. Before the boys could respond, the waitress walks over, placing down their drinks. She flashes you a smile and takes your order, walking off with a sway in her hips, much to the boy's enjoyment.

Stu throws an arm over your shoulder and you shrug him off, ignoring the pained look he gives you. “We just wanted to make sure you really knew we were sorry! Billy here never acts right around a hottie,”

“Stu you fucking idiot.” Billy spits, throwing something at him. Stu laughs, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Billy looks at you and gives you what looks like a real, genuine smile. “Sorry about him; he can’t seem to think with his upstairs brain.”

“Don’t need to when my downstairs one leads me to be sitting next to a smoke show,” Stu says, holding his hand out to you for a high five. Your face flushes and you ignore him, scooting away from him slightly. He was cute, sure, but way too forward. “What? Can’t compliment people anymore?”

“Not when your compliments are preceded by stalking.” You mutter, a part of you hoping he doesn’t hear it. Unfortunately, he does. You see his face change in your peripheral vision and your eyes flick over to Billy. He grins at you, sitting back in the booth, and taking a sip from his drink. He was enjoying this.

“Stalking? You’re fucking with me, right?” His rant is cut short by the return of the waitress who hands you your drink and places the food the boys had ordered onto the table, completely oblivious to your discomfort. She leaves and Stu grabs a fry from his plate, chewing loudly. “We’re not fucking stalking you - trust me, there are better ways to spend our time.”

Billy throws his balled up straw wrapper at Stu, catching his attention, and you let out a soft sigh of relief when Stu’s demeanor changes. He was back to smiling and laughing as if he hadn’t just been attempting to tear you to shreds. “Sorry about that… I’m pretty tired, that’s all.” Stu says, playing with his fingers.

“S’okay, I guess.”

“Why don’t you let us take you on a date? You know, as an apology?” Billy chimes in and Stu grins, nodding. A large part of yourself was screaming no. There was something off about these boys, something dark just under the surface, but you were intrigued. And so you smile.

“Yeah, I guess you two can do that.”

Billy had his arms wrapped around you, laughing at the excuses Stu was stammering out. He was obviously getting frustrated at the memory and you opened your arms to let him join in on the cuddling.

“You know, I really am glad we stuck together. I don’t know what I’d do if it were for our nightly cuddle sessions,” You say, your words muffled by Stu’s sweater. He pulls back and gives you a kiss, Billy swooping in to take one from him as well.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do without our fuck sessions,” Stu hums and you groan, punching him in the shoulder. What a way to ruin the moment. “Wait, let’s not act like you were a saint in all of this! I remember you being pretty awful at one point.”

“What?! No way!”

Billy nods, tickling your sides for a second. “Sure were, babe.”

Two months into the relationship was your breaking point. You really did like, if not love, the boys and yet you were still an outsider. Walking into the shared apartment just for their whispered conversations to stop. Late nights spent in the living room with hushed voices while you tried to sleep. You felt as though you only knew a portion of the two people you had come to like; no, love.

You admit it was petty. It wasn’t the right thing to do in any circumstance, but you did it because you knew it would get a reaction. You had packed a bag and sat in the living room. You wanted them to see you leave. Wanted them to see how much their secrecy had taken. You had been together only a short while and yet you felt so at home with them that the idea of actually leaving, of breaking it off, nearly tore you apart.

The door opens and in enters Billy and Stu, wrapped up in their own conversation. Stu waves at you, carrying on before realizing what he had just seen. “Babe? What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” Your voice was confident, not a waver in sight, and you knew it was because you weren’t planning on leaving. Some would call it manipulation, sure, but you were backed into a corner. Stu’s mouth drops open and Billy stares at you, his eyes narrowed.

“What? What do you mean you’re leaving? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Stu rushes to sit down next to you on the couch, not wanting to accept the idea that you were leaving them on your own volition. His arms wrap around yours and you shove him off. “Babe?”

You shake your head, standing from your spot on the couch, grabbing ahold of the bag. Billy was still standing near the door, his arms crossed, watching you. “Don’t call me that. The two of you… It’s like I’m not even in this relationship. I’m an outsider with the two people I love and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Billy questions, grabbing ahold of your arm when you try to walk past him. His voice is thick and you could see the vein in his forehead throbbing. He was angry and you hate to admit it but that’s exactly what you were hoping for.

For the next two hours the three of you talk about your relationship and the future of it. Stu cried, you cried, Billy sniffled a few times, and then you came to an agreement. No more secrets. They told you things that they hadn't told anyone before that they hid behind a vague threat of ‘once you hear this you’re stuck with us,’ and you told them things you had planned on taking to your grave. To say you weren’t shocked at what they told you would be a lie.

Murder wasn’t what you thought they were capable of and especially not murder so gruesome. But, oddly, you felt better about being with them. They trusted you, loved you, enough to let you know their biggest and darkest secret. And you loved it.

Knowing they wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you was a major turn on, which they soon found out.

“Wow, I really was kind of horrible, wasn’t I.” You mutter as Billy recounts the memory with a few interruptions by Stu. You didn’t remember it that way but the more they talked the more you could tell they were being honest. “Well, good thing we stuck together, hm? Would have been pretty bad if we hadn’t.”

“Yeah because we would have killed you,” Billy whispers into your ear and you shiver. He’s telling the truth and that’s what makes the relationship the way it is; they choose to be with you, to keep you around, to love you. “Yeah, we would have given you a call a while ago,” Stu says, his finger making a slicing motion across your neck.

You roll your eyes not because you don’t believe them but because you do. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#s1mping4slashers masterlist #s1mping4slashers works #s1mping4slashers answers #s1mping4slashers writing #billy loomis #stu macher #scream #scream 1996 #billy x stu x reader #billy x stu #poly!ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher fic #slasher imagines #billy loomis x stu macher x reader #reader insert

[whoreshijima]

So me and @m-mortimer did a lil collab :) all we do is thirst at eachother so here enjoy our one braincelled thinking and horniness 🤍

Thank you Izzy for allowing me to post this ilyvm and Your smart brain :))

WC- 2.9k

CW// daddy kink, reader has a vagina, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, slight mention of breeding, FaceTime masturbation, choking, mentions of fem receiving oral, basically no prep fucking

Every time Ushijima goes away, he promises to call you everyday, even if it’s for two minutes before bed or as he’s eating his lunch on the small breaks he gets. You appreciate it so much, the way he thinks about you constantly. But sometimes it gets to be way too much, way too long. He’s been away for three days now, three days too long. Ushijima called you as often as he could, simply missing the sweet tone you’d greet him with, the smile on your face as you answered the call. He loved every part of you, from how you dance whilst making dinner as he watched through the screen. Or how, like right now, you���re trying to hide your whimpers from the microphone and how you’re trying to keep your face straight, keeping the casual chatter about what you’re going to do that day.

It started as a simple FaceTime call from his cheap hotel bed, like any other day he’s away. But the grumbling deep voice on the other end of the phone, mixed with three days without his touch, made you shivery and needy. You didn’t know Ushijima was thinking the same thing. The slight mess of your bed hair and bare skin around your shoulders and chest from the small cami you were wearing made his breath catch in his chest, blood rushing south instantly.

“I dunno I might go grocery s-shoppping” you mumble out, cursing yourself for stumbling over your words as your fingers ghost over your clit, the slickness from your arousal easing your movements between your legs. Ushi can hear the sheets shuffling, the way your legs spread to give you more space to slide your fingers deep inside yourself, the wet sounds not breezing past your boyfriend's ears without notice. “Get us some f-food for when you come home?” You can’t hide the way your breath catches in your throat as you catch the spot deep inside you, the spot that Ushijima knows makes you scream and gush around him. “W-what would you like to eat?”

If Ushijima could answer honestly, he’d want to eat you. Spend hours between your legs as he swirls his warm tongue around and over your clit, strong hands pinning your legs to the bed as he spits and devours your cunt. There’s nothing better than the idea of you cumming over his mouth, writhing and wriggling under his firm grip, as two fingers curl and scissor inside you, knowing that he’s prepped you enough for his cock. Prepped you enough so that the stretch around him doesn’t hurt you as much as it should.

Just the thought of him being between your legs, cunt stretched so beautifully around him as he pushes inside you, your soft, plush thighs wrapped around his waist as he bucks his hips up into your swollen cunt. Imagining the way your warm walls surround him as he pins you to the mattress, a large hand wrapped around your tiny throat, completely at his mercy, has him pushing his hips into the mattress.

“Erm, chicken of some type?” Lower. His voice was definitely lower, almost a snarl as he talks to you, the pressure of his cock against the mattress making his eyes roll to the back of his head briefly.

“S-stir fry?” You turn your head to meet his gaze through the screen, your eyes are glazed over. Your glossy ones meet his lust filled stare, his lips are parted in small gasps and grunts. You know exactly how his other hand is gripping the sheets, knuckles turning whiter and whiter everytime the head of his cock catches against the bumps of the sheets and mattress. Neither of you bothering to hide from eachother, you let out a whine, letting your mouth hang open as you speed your fingers up against your clit.

How you wish you could see his swollen, leaking cock right now. The way it twitches with every grind forward, how the pre cum beads at the head of his cock before dripping down the shaft. But the way his face is scrunched up as he closes his eyes, the few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and how the hand holding the phone is shaking ever so slightly drives you insane. You can hear the squeak of his hotel mattress everytime he moves against it, the steady sound obvious to anyone near his room. The gentle banging of the headboard against the wall would make anyone think he’s Railing someone hard, but it’s just him, desperately rutting against the bed.

Ushi growls out a “Fuck baby” and that’s all it takes for you to arch your back and cry out for him, fingers rubbing speedily at your swollen clit and leaking pussy. The lewd sounds of your sweet slick dripping out of you mixed with the sweet Mewls you let out, driving ushi over the edge. His hips roll one, two times before he grunts out, body shaking as he cums, spilling all over his boxers and the sheets underneath him. His cock is throbbing over the thought of cumming inside you, marking you as his. Breeding you and filling you up with his cum. He lets out a shaky breath, staring into your eyes as he watches your arm moving fast in the view of the camera.

“Cum for me” he growls, voice low and gruff as he commands you to cum. And you’re not one to disobey him, your fingers move faster as you grind up into your touch. A high whimper leaves your mouth as you reach the point of orgasm, swiftly followed by a loud and needy moan, directing it at your boyfriend. Your body shakes and twitches as you ride it out, a layer of sweat adorning your skin.

“Fuck...” you whisper, finally going limp against the sheets and pillows “I miss you... so much” his gaze has softened as he smiles gently at you. He so desperately wants to reach through the screen to stroke your cheek with his thumb, hooking his fingers under your chin and pull you in for a deep kiss. To feel how your spit mixes together, and how it drips over your chin after he’s fucked you dumb on his cock.

He chuckles deeply, it rumbling through his chest “Oh just you wait till I’m home baby”

He was late. Which was a first, because there was no skirting around anything with him, either five minutes early or exactly on time. Maybe it was the nerves making you work double speed, looking at the clock every other second, turning on your phone and forgetting to actually look at the time and having to turn it on again, revisiting the last message he’d sent you - a blunt text telling you he was just getting a taxi from the airport and that he should be back in about thirty minutes.

Forty minutes ago. The skin around your thumb was raw with how you’d been nibbling at it, but not from nerves, if the dampness of your underwear and the tension in your core was anything to go by. No, you were ridiculously turned on, from what? From everything, from nothing, from him and that goddamn look he gave you two nights ago, paired with a few choice words that sparked lightning up your spine just remembering them.

“Baby.”

In that blunt, dark voice of his, croaky from sleep and strained from moaning your name, lips swollen from how hard he’d been biting it to stop himself grunting and snarling as loud as he usually did. God - that was what you were waiting for, the sounds of him, the smell of him, the taste of him, of his mouth, of his fingers, of his cock.

You shivered, a wave of lust clouding your mind for a split second, daring to slide a hand between your thighs, trembling and tensing already, and all you’d done was think about him. 3 days, 3 fucking days and you were reduced to this quivering mess on the couch at the thought of Ushijima coming through that door and finally - finally giving you what he’d promised during that call.

A muffled vibration and ding sprung you from your thoughts, from your quick spiralling down into a puddle on the floor, ripping your fingers from your underwear to pick up your phone, heart stopping and breath catching at the singular word on the screen.

Here

It was a fucking word and yet, a fresh wave of arousal flushed through your body and you struggled to stand, shaking with adrenaline and panting heavily, the implications of the word taking a toll on your body and if you were in your right mind - you’d probably slapped yourself and remarked on how desperately pathetic you were acting. But it had been 3 days, 3 agonising days of waiting and texting and barely being able to talk to him outside his strict schedule and your shifts at work.

And now? He was here, he was here and you could hear the elevator ding at the end of the corridor and the back of your neck heated, and all you could see was the front door and your hand gripping the handle, and something thumped to the ground and -

He was here. Ushijima - he was stood right there, at arm’s length, neck pillow tucked under one arm and duffle bag slumped at his feet. That must have been the thing that fell to the floor, but you don’t really care because he’s staring at you with the dark, dangerous look on his face and it should have struck playful fear into you but all you could do was whimper,

“Toshi,”

You sounded so much better saying his name in real life, fresh and feeble and sending blood draining from his head so fast, one hand shot out to grab the door frame. Ushijima strained, against everything, knuckles turning white and he probably could have cracked the woodwork, cock unbearably hard and aching within seconds of seeing you. It would have been a lie to say that he hadn’t been half hard the entire time after your call, unable to get the vision of you with your head tossed back and your eyes scrunching in pleasure, cumming deliciously from the frantic movements of your fingers beneath your pyjamas.

“Again,”

You squeak, he’s never sounded like that before, never been so low and so gruff, on the verge of snapping, avoiding your eye because if he could see the wrecked gaze you fixed on him -

“Toshi - please,”

His shirt ripped from the force with which he tore it over his head, one arm getting caught in his desperate attempt to strip and he very nearly tripped when his foot caught in the strap of his duffle bag, dragging it over the threshold before untangling himself,

“Again, say it again baby,”

He’s on you before you know what’s going on, kicking the door shut but neither of you hear it click, too consumed in each other to really worry about the fact his bag is preventing you two from having complete privacy. But you can’t think, you can’t form a single thought apart from,

“Toshi - Toshi more please!” Ushijima’s mouth swallowing your words almost instantly, one of his hands cupping the entirety of the back of your head, tilting you just so and allowing him to lick into you, feasting on your lips and tongue like a man starved and for a second, you realise he probably is. And so are you, god - you’re hungry for everything he has to offer, wrapping your hands around his waist and trying desperately to shove his sweat pants down, hissing when he accidentally bit your lip too hard but he’s dipping to your neck and delivering an even harsher bite -

“Fuck,”

Your legs give out, like they usually do under his rough assaults of your neck but you often have a bed or a couch behind you, nothing cushioning you from the hard wood floors of the hallway except for the fat of your ass and his arms encircling your head and shoulders.

“Here - I’m fucking you here, I can’t wait,” Ushijima follows you down, mouth barely leaving yours, form engulfing yours, hands trapping yours. He spreads you out on the cold floor, snarling when he gets a face of your chest from how violently you arch at the temperature and the painful nips left over the skin of your collar bone.

Ushijima isn’t much of a talker when he’s got you trembling underneath him, but the comments that are spat unfiltered from his mouth do absolutely nothing to curb the bright hot lust making you loose all semblance of control,

“Fuck - you’re soaking, did you wait for me? Did you make yourself cum again after I ended the call? No? I didn’t - I’ve been waiting for two days to do this, to touch you like this, put my hands on your body like this - fuck baby you’re so needy - no, here, look at me,”

You hadn’t even realised you had closed your eyes and thrown your head back, feeling thick fingers digging into your jaw and forcing you to look at him, dark eyes tracing every inch of your face while he dragged the other hand down your torso, short nails catching the loose fabric of your dress. It was a short moment of clarity; him looking at you, you looking at him, eyes softening so something akin to affectionate love before it was overwhelmed with predatory intent, that soft touch of his hand shoving your thighs apart and sinking into your underwear,

“M’not - I can’t wait, I can’t - let me,”

“Yes! Yes! Toshi please!”

You two sound ridiculous, desperate and clawing at each other, your smaller fingers shoving his trousers down over his ass and your entire body jolts when his cock dropped heavily on to your cunt, hot and angry and hard as fucking steel, throbbing against your clit and you clench around nothing, the anticipation too much to contain.

Ushijima is in no better state than you, fumbling with his footing with snaps of his jaw and he’s entirely too rough with the way he pumps himself, grinding against the silk of your cunt in a feeble attempt to try and prep you, to make the breach less painful, less of a stretch but you need that, you do and it’s driving you crazy, and it’s probably driving him crazy too,

“Go - Toshi, please, I can’t - fuck me please!”

The strength that emerges from the man astounds you every time, hoisting your thighs high up his waist and then apparently changing his mind, throwing your ankles over his shoulders and looming over you, sinking into you with once, debilitating thrust of his hips. And the noise that left him, oh god - it was borderline animalistic, debauched and wrecked, and one of the hottest things you think you’ve ever heard.

He’s got his hands either side of your head, clawing against the floor for purchase, immediately starting a brutal pace, the slap of his skin on yours echoing throughout the apartment, drowned out only by the high pitched squeals coming from your mouth and the filthy way he was talking down at you,

“Taking me so well baby, so fucking well - m’so proud of you, didn’t need any prep - fuck! So tight, so goddamn tight f’me -,” he doesn’t soften, not when the sounds of your pussy creaming around his cock grows louder with every sharp snap of his hips, shoving your legs into your chest and forcing harsh shouts from your throat,

“Yes! Daddy - missed you so, so much - harder, please! I’ll be s’good for you, so good just - hah - harder!”

Neither of you realise that every sound your bodies produce, every squelch and click of your cunt, every growl and deep snarl from his chest, every needy squeal and plea from your lips can be heard all the way down the corridor. The front door was still open, propped from where the duffle bag had prevented it from closing, the light from the corridor providing a perfect spotlight for the unsuspecting neighbour who dared venture out to see what all the noises were.

The vision of Ushijima’s back rippling and rolling with his bringing his hand to close around your throat, prompting a garbled hiccup and tears to spring in your eyes, and your little feet dangling uselessly over his shoulders probably should have rendered them silent, shocked and rooted to the spot.

But the quiet gasp was caught by the hulking creature on top of you, quirking his head and making eye contact with them for a split second before simply resuming his quick, paralysing thrusts, harder even than before - drawing a high pitched wail from your throat and there was no mistaking the fluid splashing on the floor, mingling with white and smearing over his balls, slapping against your ass.

A leg struck out, kicking the door shut and locking the duffle outside, looking as sorry for itself and your neighbour, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy, still reflecting the vision of you cumming harshly on Ushijima’s cock, and him simply continuing to fuck you through it, the sounds of you two muffled but no less poignant against the calm stupor of the corridor.

And so what if it carried on, moving through the apartment and quiet possibly earning a complaint from the complex security but neither of you could hear the phone ringing over the bed creaking and slamming against the wall, too consumed in each other, too wound up in the sounds you could pull and the reactions you could bring forward. Damn - if him only being gone for three days turned you both into needy desperate animals, then how the hell would you cope with his next match that required over a week away in a completely different country?

Please follow Izzy she’s a genius and the reason for me being horny @m-mortimer

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu!! #ushijima x yn #ushijima #ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader #Haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq ushijima #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu x yn

[fangurk]

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

“So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack #twilight fanfiction #eclipse #twilight wolf imagines #embry call #jared cameron #sam uley

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Final (Part 10.5)

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension / penetrative sex / handjob / a mercy nut / oral sex / unprotected sex

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

“Hi Bug,” he said.

“Did you eat?” He was speaking before his eyes made it back up into your face and it took you five whole seconds before your brain processed his question enough for you to manage a meager back and forth head shake as a response.

“We should eat.” Baekhyun stood up and walked the long way around the coffee table toward the kitchen, avoiding the space you occupied as he moved.

Eating was a good idea. It was getting late. Eating would give you something to do that wasn’t daydream about the way his thighs filled out his jeans and how strong his lap must feel to sit on top of.

You followed behind him into the kitchen. The wide galley layout afforded you with plenty of space to pass behind him without actually having to touch him but the urge was just too strong to resist. The cat was already out of the bag.

He was pulling out a frying pan, a cutting board and a knife as you passed behind him to move toward the fridge and you reached for him with your fingertips as you moved, trailing lightly over the wide expanse of his back from one broad shoulder to the other.

You looked back at him when your hand ran out of his back to touch and you caught the focus of his brown eyes that glanced up at yours and the smile on his face that he didn't try to hide. Cute. Oh god. Cute.

“What are we having, Peanut?”

You were standing in front of the open fridge and you wondered how unfair it would be to bend over to reach into the bottom vegetable drawer with him watching you like you knew he was. You pulled the drawer open and grabbed a few things trying not to think too much as you did it. If he looked, he looked. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you at home wearing not nearly enough clothing.

When you looked back at him, Baekhyun’s eyes were, impossibly, focused up high, on the contents of the fridge. He hadn’t been staring at your ass as you bent over, imaging taking you here in this kitchen in front of the open refrigerator. Of course he wouldn't. Baekhyun would never waste that much electricity. The fridge was fancy and had an alarm that rang when the door was left open for too long and the one time — the one(!!) time you’d let the door stay open long enough for the alarm to ring was because you’d dropped a sauce bottle on the floor and had been cleaning up the mess. The alarm started to ring and the man rushed into the kitchen just to shoot you a look so dirty you felt as if you were the mess that needed cleaning up; as if you had personally been the one holding the baseball bat and had been caught clubbing the baby seals. He was insane. He was crazy. God, you loved him.

He lifted a finger to point to something on the top shelf and you reached for the container you saw there. You felt the cool air of the fridge along the bare skin of your stomach when you reached up high and you remembered why you rarely wore this shirt. It was just too flowy and too prone to malfunctions such as this. Your eyes searched for his again and the man had turned around to mess with his stupid cutting board. He wasn't human.

Your mood and your desperation were mounting. You weren’t going to make it. You were going to do something stupid like take your clothes off in this kitchen. How much self control did he have? Why was he so annoyingly good at it? You could feel a buzzing in the base of your skull as you looked at him and you wondered if anyone had ever died from sexual frustration before.

You did not take off your clothes. Instead, you gave in to his agenda. As if anyone in their right mind could eat right now. You loaded your arms with various ingredients, figuring he was making some sort of stir fry and quietly dropped everything off beside his cutting board.

He was working quietly and not paying any attention to you at all. Were you the crazy one here? When did you turn into such a desperate woman? You were beginning to feel a little bit pathetic. Your skirt was so short. Your entire shoulder had been out this whole time and he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of that bedroom.

You grabbed a glass of cold water to drink. It didn't help but at least it was something to do. Your desperation was beginning to change into a numb sort of acceptance. Maybe this was just your life now. Perpetually turned on with no release. You’d have to buy more panties and change them often. Your usefulness in this kitchen was quickly coming to an end. You were out of things to do since the rice maker was still full of plenty of warm rice to eat and all of the dishes had already been cleaned and put away.

Baekhyun was busy cleaning and slicing vegetables and you’d grown tired of standing around not doing anything productive at all so you backed up against the counter beside where he worked and hopped up to sit and watch him work from this slightly elevated angle. If you didn't have anything to do, you would simply entertain yourself inside your own head as you watched the man you loved work on making you something to eat.

You were only a tiny bit irked that he seemed to be paying such close attention to these boring vegetables and not at all looking at your bare thighs that could be well within his line of sight if he would only look. You watched his brown eyes. They stayed fixed on the countertop below him.

His hair was drying, but was still a bit damp and you reached a hand forward to touch the softness of it and to feel the waves between your fingers. When you pushed the waves back away from his forehead he blinked and again his lips pulled into a smile. Even though he refused to look at you, he was still quite aware of you here. He hadn’t flinched when you touched his hair and the smile was definitely for you. It warmed you all over. He was so pretty. He was looking down and his eyelashes were dark and spread over his cheeks. His cheeks popped up when he smiled. You were pretty sure you were obsessed with the shape of this man’s face and when you could see his forehead he was nearly impossible to resist. You saw him bite down on the inside of his bottom lip. He scraped a pile of veggies off to the side and grabbed a carrot.

“LoveBug,” he said between chops. A smile formed on your lips and you tensed your smile to control it before you spoke out your soft reply to him.

“Yes Peanut?”

His forearm muscles flexed as he chopped and his lips pursed forward into a tiny pout. His face was a bit flushed for just chopping veggies and you noticed the tips of his ears were also pink.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

His knife stopped moving and he was stuck looking down at the board without any actual focus in his eyes at all as he waited for you to hear his question and answer him. It didn't look like he was breathing either. You hadn’t quite expected this question. Sure, it was kind of a given if the two of you were in love, but still, hearing him work up the courage to ask you this question out loud made your stomach do flips.

Your face was so hot. Your heart was pounding too loud again. Was that why he hadn't been looking at you all this time? Was he working up the courage for this? You swallowed and you had to lick your lips because they’d grown too dry from all the biting you’d been doing. You were biting because otherwise you would be screaming and he was holding a knife. It was a recipe for disaster. You couldn't go to a hospital right now, there was a global pandemic going on. Those resources were precious.

“Yes,” you said with your eyes on his face. He moved. His face lifted and his pink cheeks and pink lips and warm eyes were a gift to your soul. Baekhyun looked at you at last — at last, he looked up into your eyes. You’d been staring at him so openly all this time. You were intimately familiar with the shape of him. The angle of his pretty eyes; the layout of the moles on his face; the curve of his little nose that begged to be kissed; the pointed tips of his upper lip and the soft downturn of his bottom lip. You knew his face. You knew everything about it, but when he was actually looking at you, now that you had his focus and his attention on you, you suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

He was looking into your eyes and he’d gone completely still. The eye contact that he maintained, it seemed to build onto itself and you could not look away. You did not even want to. You felt positively trapped in his eyes and despite the fact that neither of you moved at all apart from the occasional blinking in his eyes and steady in and out of his lungs you still felt the pressure building the longer he stared into your face and the less in control of yourself you felt in his presence.

His muscles tensed all over and when his grip hardened around his knife, you heard a loud sound as the knife pressed through the thick carrot in his hand. The sound it made jolted through your entire body. The sound of the thick fibrous vegetable resisting just enough for the knife to struggle against it and then, just when it seemed like it might not, the blade won with a pop. It made it through, the loud chop as the strong high carbon steel hit the wooden board below it when the weaker gave under the pressure; it echoed out inside of your head and his lips parted and his eyelids sank halfway into a blink as he exhaled a held breath.

Baekhyun looked down at his board and then he came to life, suddenly grabbing the carefully sliced and obsessively separated piles all in different shades and colors and he abruptly piled the whole mess of it into the center of the board; he started rapidly chopping everything all together in smaller pieces. It was frantic. The change in his behavior was jarring. What had gotten into him? Was it the same thing that had gotten into you?

“What are you doing? I thought you were doing stir fry,” you recognized the odd behavior and abrupt change of plans based on what he was doing with his ingredients.

“Fuck it. Fried rice. It’s fast. You'll eat it.”

You let your surprised laugh escape and his brows were furrowed with the effort as he chopped everything all together.

“Why are you just trying to feed me? You haven't eaten anything either.”

“Yeah but you were too upset to eat this morning. You can’t skip meals because it makes you feel bad. You’ll eat this and—”

He was turning around, away from you and away from every bit of temptation you waved in front of him, with all of his haphazardly chopped ‘stir fry demoted to fried rice’ ingredients and you heard the click of the stove as he turned the flame on.

“I’ll eat this and what?” You asked over his shoulder and you let your eyes wander down the curve of his spine down to his narrow waist.

“And calm down?” You mumbled to yourself, “the cold shower didn’t work.”

You hadn’t quite so openly ogled him before and you decided that you had simply been insane before. How could you have possibly lived with this man for two years and not thrown yourself at him before? How in the hell was he still a virgin with a face like that? You tossed your head to one side and tried to remember the last time he left the house. Even before 2020, the year from hell, the man simply didn't like to go out. He didn't like meeting new people and he definitely didn't like situations that involved many of those new people. That didn't mean he didn't try in the past. He’d mentioned being stood up before so that meant he had made an attempt to date, right? God, he was gorgeous. You could see the back of his neck as he worked and when he moved the pan around over the burner to spread the oil his arm muscles flexed.

He was adding things to his pan. Cooking and frying noises and smells were building surprisingly quickly and before you could even move from your perch on the counter he was scooping rice into a bowl that he stuck a spoon in from the drawer and he turned back around and returned to you holding the bowl in his hand. He was back now. You had him back.

“The shower didn’t work for me either,” he said honestly and you dropped your hands to brace on the countertop beside your bare thighs to keep yourself from losing your balance. It felt like a confession. He’d tried the shower to calm down too. He was affected by you and was struggling with his control too. Only from the way he was keeping his hands off of you right now, it was clear who was doing a better job with their self control. You wondered about the kinds of fantasies that played out in his head.

Baekhyun was holding a spoon full of rice up to your face and he inhaled a deep breath of air into his lungs that stuttered on the way in.  The stutter in his breath had you swimming inside your own head.

“How am I supposed to eat right now?” It was a genuine question. The man was driving you insane, you could feel the effects of his looks, his words, his kisses from earlier, and the maddening way he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of your bedroom. What did you have to do to get just one more kiss; just one hand on your thigh; just one more; just one more — you were ready to bargain or beg even.

“Three bites,” he said and he was breathing heavily when he did it. “Ahh,” he followed up with opening his mouth wide just like he wanted you to do for him.

You leaned forward then; bypassing the waiting spoon of rice. He was so close. You leaned and you pressed your lips against his lips. It was a tiny kiss and you heard the low grunt that left the back of his throat when you did it. His lips molded into yours and he pursed them, returning the kiss; giving into you so easily. When you pulled back his eyes were closed and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down.

Everything about him was pretty. His teeth were pretty. His tongue was pretty. His nose and his chin and his eyes were pretty. You felt drunk.

“Three bites and you can have anything you want, my love, I promise.”

Oh, he was playing a dangerous game with you. Calling you something like this when all of your skin felt like it was on fire. It was too much. It was all too much. You felt the blush heat your skin from your cheekbones down past your chest plate and you closed your eyes to try and keep some sort of semblance of sanity and you opened your mouth.

You felt the spoon push inside and it met your tongue. You closed your mouth around the food and chewed carefully. You tasted nothing. You ate it just to get the food inside of you so you wouldn't feel lightheaded later or gross for having skipped too many meals. He was right. You needed to eat something. He was taking care of you again and you felt one more drop of love splash against the inside of your heart walls. If he kept this up, it might just overflow and then what would become of you? You could hear the spoon scraping in the bowl he held and you heard the blowing sounds coming from his lips as he cooled the next spoonful to keep the hot temperature from burning your tongue. Another drop; another splash. You were screwed.

You’d swallowed it down and quickly opened your mouth for the next spoon, getting it over with to placate him.

The last spoonful went down easily and you opened your eyes when you felt a glass with cool water pushed into your hand which you drank down as well watching in amusement as Baekhyun also seemed to be chewing and swallowing rice he’d taken from the same bowl with the same spoon. His cheeks were puffed and you offered the rest of the water which he accepted and drained quickly.

“So you tried a shower too?”

He choked on his water when you said it and you adjusted the way you sat on the countertop, slipping forward a little so you could lean back on your hands as he was coughing. Your short skirt rode up a little more and you looked down to see most of your thighs bare. You let your knees open more. It felt like an invitation. He could touch you if he wanted to. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to this. Your wardrobe didn’t usually leave all that much to the imagination when you were relaxing at home.

“Cold one?” You asked. You weren’t usually so brazen. But this was Baekhyun and he was your boyfriend now. You wanted to scream from the pent up excitement sat inside of your belly when you thought about it.

“Freezing,” he said and he’d abandoned the food and water on the counter in front of him. His eyes were squeezed shut and he leaned forward with both of his hands resting on the countertop beside where you sat. You watched the side profile of his face and you waited for him. You did not move or touch him in any way at all. You held your breath and you held your tongue and you waited.

Baekhyun pulled himself up and he took a step to the side so that he now stood directly in front of you. His slim hips fit between your parted knees and you could feel the rough fabric of his denim jeans scratch against the inside of your upper thighs. You did not move at all. You just watched his face as he oh so carefully placed himself between your parted legs and you felt the first light pass of his fingertips as he touched your knee.

That first touch, that gentle tickle from his slim fingers that moved over the round hill of your kneecap and then, with barely there pressure, slipped up the outside of your bare thigh and did not stop at the fabric of your skirt but kept moving along your bare skin, just the tips of his fingers, just the tips of him that you loved the most; he kept touching and you could hardly contain it. The touch was so light, so fucking delicate you wanted to cry. He took your sanity and your breath and tossed them both far away from you.

When you lost your breath it left your lips in a quiet moan and your eyes closed on their own.

You moved your hands. They ached to hold him. You reached around his waist and pulled him toward you and he fit inside well when you moved your hips forward off the edge of the counter and when you slipped your face into the space below his chin where you could smell the skin of his neck, the smell of him overloaded your senses. It was just soap. He was just clean smelling but he smelled so unbelievably comfortable and familiar you inhaled deeply with your lips parted just over the surface of his skin.

The closer proximity gave you another sensation. You could feel the heat and stiffness between his legs that fit so perfectly between your own. You wanted to wrap around him. You wanted him closer. The desire was powerful and you felt the grip of his hand as he squeezed high on your thighs and his hips pushed forward for the sake of the friction itself.

“I promised,” you felt the vibration of his voice in your lips that you pressed against the side of his neck, “anything you want — you can have anything.”

It wasn’t quite a question. His statement was fractured and you could hear the trembling in his voice that made his thoughts as unstable as you felt inside of yourself right now.

“What is it you want to do? Do you want to watch a movie? Hmm? Do you want to go for a walk? Is there something else you want?”

You felt his words vibrating though his chest. You loved the sound of his voice but feeling it echoing against your own skin brought a warm comfort into your soul.

“I,” you had to keep your eyes closed and you pulled your lips away from his skin for a second. “I don't want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

As flimsy as you felt inside you knew you would never forgive yourself for pressuring him. You knew you needed to hear it from his own lips that he wanted more before you would let anything happen. You’d take 10 more frozen showers if you had to; just to hold yourself back.

You could feel it in that moment. You had a lifetime only for him. You could wait a lifetime for him.

“Bug, what are you doing? I feel like I’m losing my mind.” He was speaking just above your head and despite the pressure inside your heart to stop, to wait, to keep yourself under control you still gave into the urge to tighten your thighs around his hips and push your pelvis forward against him. You still pulled him into you with the arms you’d wrapped around him and you heard the trembling moan that vibrated through his chest wall.

“I can stop if you want. Peanut, tell me to stop and I will stop.”

His hands left your hips and you loosened your hold around his body when he moved. When you pulled your face back his hands were in his own hair and he was scratching roughly at his scalp with his fingers and his face was screwed together in a tight scrunch of all of his features. It was a look of confusion. It was uncertain and unsure and you looked at his face with your head cocked to the side when it dawned on you that he wasn’t picking up on the many many obvious clues you were putting down. Was he just so used to you cuddling and touching him that he really did not know what you wanted from him? Did he not watch you rip down the sign from your door and sit down here on this counter with your skirt hiked up so far he could probably see your panties if he just dropped his chin a few inches. Did he really have no idea?

“Stop what? What are you stopping? What is happening right now? I don't understand. You never told me what you wanted. And I can't think straight with you touching me so much. I’m going crazy. Tell me what to do.”

Was this real? You looked into the pained expression on his face and you lifted your eyebrows in surprise at what you saw. You saw him holding back. You saw him suffering through it. You saw confusion and uncertainty in his brown eyes and you realized that you had to be very blunt with him for him to get it. He’d been so conditioned to hide his attraction for you that this was completely new and uncharted territory for him. Despite the fact that you’d removed the stupid sign from your door and could feel the frustration all over your body from holding yourself back and the man was very clearly extremely aroused right now; you could feel how ready his body was for this, it was driving you crazy to have to stop this and tell him in plain words exactly what you wanted from him.

“Sex, Baekhyun. I am talking about sex. I want to have sex with you.”

As quickly as you’d said it, you inhaled to speak again. To clarify. To add important parameters that protected his heart.

“But, when you are ready. I absolutely don't want you doing anything you don't want to do, just because I ate three stupid bites of food. That’s actually not how this works. We have to both be ready. I will be okay no matter what we do or don't do. Please tell me you understand this is just me telling you that whenever you want to, I am ready. I want to do this with you.”

Baekhyun had removed his hands from your skin and he was still standing with his hands raised above his head. You’d pulled your legs away from his warmth and had dropped your hands to rest over your own knees as you spoke to him and he was looking into your face, watching you very carefully as you spoke with his lips parted and an indecipherable expression in his face. His eyes ticked around your features. He closed his mouth and then opened it again and you watched the words you had told him in earnest sink in deep.

When you stopped talking there was a moment when neither of you moved at all until you heard him inhale a quick breath.

“Yes,” he said and his eyebrows lifted briefly as his eyelids closed halfway, “yes,” he whispered again and his head was nodding up and down in quick shallow bursts, “yes,” he said a third time and he licked his lips quickly.

“Yes, I want to. I want to.”

His lips hung open when he quit speaking and he pushed the tip of his tongue along the edge of his front teeth. He looked into your eyes and you looked into his and you could feel the understanding coat you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. With his eyes on you; with his love in his heart; with the furrow of his eyebrows and the quiet way his head sunk to the side and the push of air from deep within his lungs; he wanted you. He wanted you to be his first.

You watched him change before your eyes. The look in his eyes darkened when the minutes passed and the desire he’d expressed out loud sat in the space between your faces and inflated and swelled until you reached out and touched it with your careful fingertips. You absorbed it and he watched you do it. You would accept his consent, this precious thing. His tongue vanished somewhere inside of his mouth and he was breathing through his parted lips as his eyes roamed over your face.

The quiet understanding moved your body and you used the small space he’d given you to hop down off of the kitchen counter. When you moved you felt him take a step back and you pivoted on your feet, brushing your shoulder over his broad warm chest in the tiny space that you and he occupied in this kitchen.

As you moved you felt the back of your hand brush against his and you reached for his fingers with your own and when you took your first steps out of the kitchen you pulled his hand and he followed you where you moved past the dining table, past the living room and the light changed when you reached the darkened hallway that led to your bedroom.

Your bedroom was dimly lit. Your table lamp sat illuminated in the corner beside your bed and the sheer curtains let in enough light for you to see the nervous expression on his face and the way he licked his lips and swallowed away the moisture in his mouth.

Baekhyun came into your bedroom after you did and you saw him turn around and close your door behind him. The action made you feel tense. The intimacy of this small space made you feel very warm. Your bedroom was smaller than his and it hadn’t occurred to you until he did it that he had never closed himself up entirely in here with you before. In all of your experiences with him coming into your room in the past he always left your door open and something about him closing it behind him made this feel all the more real. You had sudden butterflies bumping around inside your stomach.

When he turned back around to face you he ran one trembling hand through his hair and his steps paused halfway through the room as he seemed to second guess his destination mid journey. He recovered though and pushed through it, coming to stop in front of your bed and turning around to sit down on the edge of it with his hands on his knees.

He was acting so nervous that it was making you feel nervous too. In fact, now that he was in here with you he seemed to be more nervous than he was excited about this. It made you pause.

“Are you okay?” You sat down beside him on your bed with your small question and you felt the warmth of his arm as you leaned against him.

Baekhyun closed his eyes and he inhaled a breath. You felt him exhale slowly and with it he leaned against you, slumping hard against your arm and he was warm and he was everywhere. The connection, that contact was powerful with how quickly you were overcome with the warmth and the feeling of him.

“I’m just anxious...I don't really know what I’m doing. What if I’m bad at it?”

He wasn’t second guessing doing this with you. He was naturally unsure of how things might go and was probably putting way too much pressure on himself to live up to some made up standard he’d set in his own head.

You stood up suddenly, feeling very in love with this man and feeling a strong need to protect him from everything, even from his own self doubts. He was brilliant. He was a good person. He was good at everything he did. He was already so good at loving you. You could see it in everything he did for you.

Your movement pulled his focus and his eyes followed when you moved to stand in front of him. You took a step closer to him, and your legs landed between his parted knees. His hands remained fisted stubbornly on his own knees but his eyes were open and he was looking at you standing in front of him.

“Baekhyun, do you trust me?”

He didn’t hesitate. He nodded his head up and down and you smiled down at him as he looked up at you. You lifted a hand and ran it over the back of his head and you saw the blink of his eyes when you slipped your fingers into his hair and scraped them against the back of his scalp. His lips parted and his eyes rolled.

“And do you love me?”  

Your other hand cupped his pretty face and his eyes opened back up as he looked at you again. He nodded his head again, slower this time.

“Then that’s all it takes to be good at it. I’ll help you with the details. You just do what feels good.”

“Just do what feels good? I can do that.” He whispered into the quiet space of your dark bedroom and you felt the heat flooding along the surface cells of your skin. He had been sitting when he reached for you as he stood and placed his hands on the sides of your face.

“Kissing you feels good,” he said and the warmth of his breath could not prepare you for him. You felt his mouth cover yours. You felt his tongue and his teeth biting lightly as he pulled your bottom lip inside of his mouth.

“Touching you feels good,” he whispered into your open mouth. You felt his hands then and he was everywhere. You were unprepared. This was not something you would survive with your sanity intact. You’d wanted so much. You’d waited for so long that the first real kiss, the first real touches from his hands rendered you nearly completely incapacitated.

The short skirt afforded him an expansive lot of skin to explore with his wandering hands. He gripped and he squeezed behind you, you felt the tips of his fingers squeeze your ass roughly and his hips were pushing into you. As convenient as these clothes were, they quickly lost their charm. You needed more skin. You needed to be done with them. You lifted both of your hands and you placed them on his shoulders and you firmly pushed him down to sit on the bed in front of you. He complied instantly and his eyes opened to look into your face as his heavy breaths flew through his parted lips.

You reached for the bottom of your shirt and you lifted straight up, pulling it over your head in a single smooth motion and before you lost the nerve you reached for the side zipper of your skirt and pushed it down, letting it fall to the floor you stepped out of it.

A burst of pride filled your chest. You’d made a good decision with the matching bra and panties set.

His eyes were on you and you saw a spark in them. This was a new expression on him that you hadn’t seen, although something in his eyes as he looked at you brought along a wave of deja vu. Something you’d only seen as quick as a lightning flash in his eyes as he kneeled before your naked body that night, the night of the storm.

He was looking at you and then he was touching you. You felt his warm hands slip a slow pathway along your hips.

“God, Bug. You’re so fucking pretty, I’m not going to make it.” When he leaned into you, you felt his mouth, the softness of his lips and the warm puff of air from his breathing as he inhaled his oxygen from the bare skin the space just below your breasts. His hands traveled now, with firmer pressure as he moved, you felt slim fingertips move higher and slip below the back strap of your bra.

You promised you’d help with the details. You reached behind and unclasped your bra hooks and the elastic gave. You pulled the garment down your arms and Baekhyun was leaning back onto your bed, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he leaned, he pulled you with him. His mouth was on your skin, he tasted and he when he pulled your hardened nipple into his mouth and sucked you nearly lost your mind. Your back arched and you moaned, closing your eyes tightly as his mouth worked on the sensitive nub. He moved like a fire and his hands touched you everywhere. Absolutely nothing about the way he touched you felt like he had any capacity in his whole body to be bad at this.

“This is too much,” he complained into your skin. You felt it too, but you craved even more.

You needed his skin. You wanted to feel it under your fingertips and with your lips. You wanted to kiss him and taste him and smell him as he was doing to you.

When you reached for his shirt, he left you pull it off him and when your hands flew to the button of his jeans he sat up on his knees to let you unzip him.

You felt that your own breathing was frantic. You felt too out of control. You wanted too much too fast to stand this.

Baekhyun stood to push himself out of his jeans and he joined you again with thin boxers straining against his hard erection. Your legs parted and you pulled him into you, still clothed in your panties and he landed perfectly in between your parted legs on the bed. His breathing was too fast and he whined out loud when you reached for him and palmed his hardness over his underwear. With every touch you could see him teetering on the edge. He would not last this way. You didn't really want him to.

“Too much. It’s too much. Fuck.” His self control was shaky. He was already a mess. You felt drunk on the sight of him. The sounds he made, trembling, whining with his eyes closed and with your hands on him, those noisy sounds hit you like heroin, you wanted him to come. You wanted to hear it and you watched to watch his face as he did it.

“I’m not going to make it. It’s too much already, I can’t,” he was whining again and his mouth was on yours as he kissed you, pulling your tongue into his mouth when you gave it to him. He was shaking already. You could see him losing control. If you kept touching him he would come in his boxers.

“You can come first,” you whispered into his ear before you bit down on the smooth skin of his neck. His breaths came out in jagged bursts.  

“But, too soon,” he complained with closed eyes. Your hand rubbed over him again and his hips pushed forward into the feeling as you squeezed and pulled with your palm around the cloth covered head of his dick.

“I want you to come first. You feel so good in my hand like this. I want to hear you come for me Baekhyun and then I’ll show you how you can touch me until you’re ready again.”

Your fingers slipped under the elastic of his waistband as you spoke and you felt him stiffen on top of you when you wrapped your hand around the smooth skin of his shaft.

“Oh God, Oh God,” he called out in his beautiful voice once you’d gotten him inside of your hand. You could feel the drops of wetness that had already collected at his tip and you used your thumb to spread the wetness over him and he let out a loud whine from the back of his throat as you did it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t — I have to —” he complained and you felt his muscles contract as he stiffened on top of you, he pushed again with his hips and with his mouth open and his eyes screwed shut you felt the first pulses along the length of him followed by the rush of warm liquid that flooded the palm of your hand and seeped through the thin fabric of his boxers. He trembled all over as he came and he went motionless save for the occasional satisfying twitch.

You felt positively possessed by the arousal. You pulled your hand out from his boxers and much of his mess had quickly soaked his underwear and even the panties you still wore and the bed sheets below you both felt sticky and moist. Still you saw the shine of wetness on your fingertips and his eyes followed you as you stuck your fingertips into your mouth and sucked off the taste of him, swallowing down the taste of his cum.

He reeled from it. He breathed heavily and his mouth hung open, the evidence of just how much all of this affected him written as plain as day all over his face. His eyebrows screwed together and then he moved a hand down the inside of your thigh, running his fingertips lightly over the soaked fabric of the lace panties you wore. Most of it was from you.

“Take them off,” you said. His fingers pulled at the sides and you lifted your hips as he rolled them off your legs.

When he came back his eyes feasted and his hands moved slowly, reaching forward for you, cautious yet desperate to touch everywhere. The first touches were light and you moved your hand down to place your warm palm over his hand between your legs. The details; the right place to touch you and the right amount of pressure. He was paying close attention to your fingers and you could feel his hand following your lead. He was driving you crazy. You were so desperate for him.

“Do you feel how wet you made me?”

You knew how wet you were. You were dealing with it for a significant amount of time already but something about guiding his fingers and slipping them between your folds as you taught him the movements; the way to make you come. He was directing his fingers and moving them over you in a way that felt amazing, you felt quickly undone with the rhythmic passes over your clit. You were so turned on even this amount of touch from him had you squirming in place almost immediately.

“I did this?” He had a spark in his eyes as he asked and you saw the small grin that took over his face. His eyes were on your face as he moved and you pulled your hand away when you noticed he caught on instantly to the kinds of movements that could drive you crazy. Every sound you made had him chasing the same sound and every time you flinched his eyes would fly up to your face as if you were a puzzle he had to solve and he was determined to get it right. You felt his fingers moving over your clit, pulling between digits and adding pressure when he abruptly pulled his hand away you opened your eyes and gasped at the sudden loss. He had dropped his shoulders and you saw the top of his head with his fluffy hair buried between your legs a split second before you felt the softness of the tip of his wet tongue slip between your folds and bump against the already swollen and oversensitive spot.

The man was an overachiever. You gasped out loud when his mouth opened and the suction of his mouth pulled hard enough to send a jolt of electric pleasure through your nervous system. You cried out and squirmed below his mouth and he pushed his fingers inside of you as he did it again. The room spun. You had to close your eyes and your hands reached down to touch his head. You threaded your fingers into his hair and when he did it again you gripped around the brown strands, you pulled his hair as he pulled hard with his mouth. He moved his tongue at the same time and you could not contain the trembling or the strong wave you gave into as you came. Your legs were shaking and he was still pulling. It was quickly becoming too much to take. You squeezed your thighs and reached for him, pushing him firmly away, he quickly pulled his face up from between your legs and the man was soaked. You were trying to breath and he was smiling his wide and blinding smile at you.

“Baekhyun, how?” You couldn't get the words out. You felt too out of breath from the orgasm and his smile was so lovely he lit up the room with it. You shook your head back and forth and exhaled the first breath that wasn’t shaking since he’d gotten his mouth on you.

“Did I do it right?” He was fishing. He sat there on his ankles and the moisture on his chin and neck reflected the dim lighting from your lamp.

“So good, Baekhyun. It was so fucking good. You’re amazing.” His nose scrunched and his eyes blinked when you said it. It was the truth. You hadn’t imagined that he could learn so quickly and perform so well. You could see the puff of his chest with your honest compliments and his hands were touching you again— light, absentminded touches; you felt him move again. The fire felt somewhat quenched for now as he moved and he blinked slowly at you as he dipped and he shifted in place. He was pushing his boxers off as he moved and you could see from the light in the window the beautiful shape of him completely bare before you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said in awe at the sight of him. He licked his lips and glowed in the dim lighting. His smile pulled at his lips and you swooned to see him. You could also see that he was hard again.

You reached for him when he dropped to you and you met in the middle, reaching for his face as he reached for yours and his lips and tongue tasted like your arousal for a moment before you swallowed the taste away and found that familiar taste of him. The undeniable and addictive smell of the air that came from his lungs. The scent of the thin layer of sweat that sat over his skin and the heat that mingled and mixed with the smell of your own skin as he pressed himself against you.

Baekhyun was situated with his hips between your legs and you held your breath when you felt the first bump of his hardness as he slipped around within your wetness.

He pushed himself up on his knees and his eyes looked into yours. He didn’t move right away but you felt him reaching down between where you were separated and his eyes were down on his hand as he positioned himself at your entrance.

Baekhyun was looking into your eyes when you felt the tip of him and he pushed himself inside. He pushed forward with his hips; you felt the stretch; the pressure of it. A gasp escaped your lips and his eyes were on you when his mouth fell open. He pushed further and his eyes rolled back into his head, closing up as he filled you completely. You were filled. It stole your oxygen. You were overwhelmed by everything.

He went completely motionless when he got inside of you. When he was finally inside of you.

“Oh my god,” he said with his eyes closed up. His head was moving and small whimpers came from his throat when he pulled out and he pushed in again. You were transfixed by watching his face. “Holy fuck,” he spoke freely and noisily and when he wasn’t whining he was moaning out loud. When he wasn’t moaning he was cursing and you were lost under the spell of him. He quickly found a rhythm as he chased the need to move, pulling out and pushing in again and his movements grew more confident.

You were getting lost in him. You could feel the way your body clung to him tightly and you pulled him into you when he pulled away. Your mouth found his as he dropped down to you and pushed inside roughly and you wrapped around him when you felt him rolling. You found yourself surrounding him and surrounded by him at the same time. You were on top of his lap and the dizziness of the movement made your head spin. His arms wrapped around your waist and he sat up with you on him and still inside of you and he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and you held on to him so tightly. Tight enough that the movements of your body slowed and you felt him push deep inside of you again and again. His mouth was on yours and you shared the same air just as completely as you shared the same space.

Your heart was raging inside of your chest and the ache to get closer to him pulsed with it. The need for closeness was overwhelming. Your nails dug into the skin on his back and you bit down on his shoulder with your teeth. The need was too deep. Your mind was lost to it and you whimpered into the skin of his neck when you felt the wave overtake you again.

You were lost.

You were lost.

You could feel yourself shaking all over and you squeezed tightly around him when you felt the flood of his heat inside of you and the heavy breathing in your own chest mirrored his own as he gripped your body tightly and held you so close to him.

The spell took ages to break. You held onto each other for too many heavy breaths to count and when you lifted your head from where you were buried in his neck his hands lifted to cradle the back of your head.

Baekhyun’s lips were back. He kissed you deeply and slowly and you melted into him, feeling the fatigue in your limbs nagging you.

You were laid down and the substantial messes were ignored for now. You were kissed again and again and when those kisses turned quicker and sloppier you felt your own lips pulling into a smile.

Your body was nagging you though. You felt the need to clean yourself up. You knew you’d have clean your bed too and when you’d finally managed to extract yourself from his arms and his lips you made your way into your bathroom. It was your second shower of the day only this time you turned on the hot water to heat up.

A quick peek into your bedroom gave you a glimpse of him. Baekhyun was laying on your bed, still naked and laying flat on his back. After a few moments he moved and sat up, pulling the sheet below his body with the tips of his fingers. He was making a face to himself, scrunching up his nose and sticking his tongue out as he pulled on the wet fabric of your bed sheets and it made you laugh out loud.

“Is it always this messy? Bug—” he was calling out to you from the bed. He looked a little like he might be trapped there. “Bug? Bug, help. It’s all over my stomach. What do I do with it?”  

His hands were reaching out and you saw him grab the first soft thing he touched. It was pink and it was fluffy and it had been sitting in the corner of your bed. Your temper flashed hot. He was not about to use your cutest most innocent stuffed animal for this.

“Peanut, if you wipe up your cum with Mr. Nibbles, I’ll never, ever forgive you. Put him down.”

His hand opened and the pink fluff fell to the floor below. Safe for now. Baekhyun was sitting up on the side of your bed and he was mumbling to himself. “It’s not just mine, LoveBug. We made this mess together.”

“Well let’s clean up together then,” you said, with a few steps in his direction and reached for his arm, pulling him up from the bed toward your bathroom where the hot water was steaming up the mirror and calling out to you. The building hunger pangs in your stomach called to you as well. All at once, the needs came at you one by one.

You heard a low stomach rumble coming from the beautiful naked man whose arm you pulled through the doorway of your bathroom.

“And then we can eat together,” you sing-songed and you heard the small huff of a laugh that came from his nose. His smile was wide and he looked at you with so much affection in his eyes.

“And then we can take a walk together and hold hands, and watch a movie together and we can wash the bed sheets together and play a game together. An easy game though. Not one of those hard ones where I just die and die. We can play a nice game together and you can let me win at least one time. Not every time, just once is fine. I can’t win every time, it’s just not realistic. I will understand. I am a very understanding person.”

You weren't done. Once you’d gotten going you really couldn't help the excitement that took you over when you imagined all of the things you wanted to do with him. You had a list in your head of all of the things you wanted and you could hear the quiet giggles from Baekhyun that were nearly drowned out by the running water that you were about to step inside.

“Oh! And then we can delete your dating profile together and you can tell me how long you’ve been in love with me and I will tell you about all of the sex dreams I’ve had about you. And then—”

His hand pulled you back. The warm water had been so close you could already feel the refreshing cleanliness that was just within your grasp. The frown that formed on your lips was short lived because you felt his warm arms encircle your shoulders and he pulled you into his chest.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he was saying it again and again. You could hear the smile on his lips as he said it and his love declarations coated you completely both inside and out and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your arms as you squeezed him tightly.

“We have so much to do together,” he said softly into your hair after the truth of the love declarations had settled and you ran your hand through the back of his head, pulling his hair through your fingertips with each pass.

“A lifetime of them,” you said. Your heart felt so full and somehow you couldn’t find it in you to feel anxious about saying this to him. It was the truth that you felt inside of your heart, you felt it so completely.

He pulled his face back to look into your face and you saw a remarkable serenity in his warm brown eyes. His lips pulled into an easy smile and he inhaled a breath to respond to you.

“A lifetime, Bug,” he said with a nod of his head and a spark in his eyes, “together.”

[The End]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob @baekswifey @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex @sorrowinblood @catseohyun @rossemayme @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @marovekian1 @versaexact@czechkpoptrash

#Baekhyun #Exo #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fiction #exo fic #exo fanfiction #exo fiction #baekhyun ff #baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun series #exo series #baekhyun fluff #exo fluff

[bloody-bee-tea]

Low

Inspired by this art on Twitter, even though it has nothing to do with Mingcheng.

When Jiang Cheng opens the door and comes face to face with Nie Mingjue—and only Nie Mingjue—he fights the urge to slam the door in his face.

“Where’s Huaisang?” is the first thing out of Jiang Cheng’s mouth and he scolds himself for it, for being rude like this, but Nie Mingjue just renders him stupid whenever he sees him and usually it’s Nie Huaisang’s job to make sure Jiang Cheng maintains a sliver of his sanity.

But Nie Huaisang is not here and so Jiang Cheng’s sanity flew out the window the second he laid eyes on Nie Mingjue.

It’s a problem, Jiang Cheng will admit.

“He’ll be late, but he didn’t want me to wait for him,” Nie Mingjue says with a slight grimace. “I can—wait outside?” he asks as if Jiang Cheng would honestly kick him out.

“Don’t be stupid,” Jiang Cheng grumbles and steps aside to let Nie Mingjue in. “As if I would let you just wait outside.”

He might get increasingly stupid when he’s around Nie Mingjue, which more often than not leads to him being rude, but he’s not that rude. And besides. Just because Jiang Cheng can’t form a coherent sentence when he’s around Nie Mingjue doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to look at him.

“Thanks,” Nie Mingjue awkwardly says as he steps inside and Jiang Cheng realizes that for all that he knows Nie Mingjue just as long as Nie Huaisang, he can’t say they are friends.

They know each other and they have spent an insane amount of time together but Jiang Cheng wouldn’t call them friends.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t have friends that make his heart beat wildly away in his chest and that make his stomach swoop with just the hint of a smile and that shut his higher brain function off with just a look.

“You want something to drink?” Jiang Cheng asks, walking away towards the kitchen, where he gets back to preparing the food for that evening.

They’ve been doing these movie nights for years by now, always rotating between their places, and today it’s Jiang Cheng’s turn, so he has to provide dinner while Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue bring snacks and drinks.

It’s a tested method.

“I brought drinks,” Nie Mingjue says and lifts the bag he carries in his hand. “I’m good.”

“Alright,” Jiang Cheng shrugs and tries to pretend that he didn’t just got hot under the collar watching Nie Mingjue’s biceps move like that.

He sharply turns away, but he still hears Nie Mingjue open a can and Jiang Cheng does his best to ignore the fact that Nie Mingjue is probably watching him.

That thought is not doing anything good for his heart after all.

It works for about five seconds, until Nie Mingjue decides to pull out one of the chairs from the kitchen table and sits down and then Jiang Cheng is hyper-aware of his every movement.

“You’re just going to watch me cook?” Jiang Cheng snaps, because it’s what he does when Nie Mingjue makes him nervous like this and he can see Nie Mingjue shrug from the corner of his eye.

“I doubt you’re going to let me help,” Nie Mingjue replies and Jiang Cheng sighs.

He’s right. If it’s Jiang Cheng’s turn to cook, then it’s Jiang Cheng’s turn to cook and he doesn’t actually like it if people interfere with his work.

He knows what he’s doing in the kitchen and he doesn’t need any more hands ruining his carefully set out plan.

Instead of giving Nie Mingjue a verbal answer, he simply huffs, which causes Nie Mingjue to chuckle and Jiang Cheng to die on the spot.

Someone as tall and broad and buff as Nie Mingjue has absolutely no business being this adorable too, and Jiang Cheng curses every god he knows for making Nie Mingjue this perfect.

And unattainable for him.

“Well, you’re right with that,” Jiang Cheng finally says, because he fears that otherwise he’s going to choke on all of his feelings and he tries to concentrate on the food in front of him.

He is done with most of the preparations, but Nie Mingjue is a little bit early and so Jiang Cheng didn’t actually yet get to the cooking part of dinner.

“You mind if I stay here?” Nie Mingjue asks him suddenly, as if he didn’t already sit down anyway and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“Bit late to ask that now, huh?” he gives back but then he shrugs. “I’m not actually going to ban you to the living-room and make you sit alone until I’m done or Huaisang shows up,” he then tells Nie Mingjue. 

Nie Mingjue settles a little bit more firmly into the chair, clearly absolutely ready to watch Jiang Cheng get to work on the frying and stirring part of dinner and Jiang Cheng is surprised to find that his hands are shaking.

He can’t remember the last time Nie Mingjue was watching him this intently, without any distractions around and Jiang Cheng is not dealing too well with it, it seems.

So instead of getting started immediately, Jiang Cheng takes his time to get his apron out. There’s a split second where he thinks that Nie Mingjue will make fun of him for it, and Jiang Cheng is not actually sure if he could take that, but then he shakes that off. 

The apron was a gift from his sister and there are little puppies on it and Jiang Cheng always wears it when he’s cooking. He’s not going to change that for Nie Mingjue, incoming teasing or not.

Jiang Cheng’s shoulders are already tense when he puts on the apron, but to his surprise, Nie Mingjue stays quiet. 

He dares to dart a look over his shoulder, and Jiang Cheng is surprised to see that while Nie Mingjue is still watching him, he’s also clenching his jaw and keeping quite the tight grip on his can.

Jiang Cheng frowns but he can’t bring himself to ask, doesn’t want to find out if there’s something in what he’s doing that’s upsetting to Nie Mingjue and so instead of opening his mouth, he ties his hair up.

He likes it tied up and out of his face when he actually cooks and it’s a practiced enough move that it barely takes him a few seconds to be done with it.

There’s a beat of silence when Jiang Cheng takes a breath to center himself and to sort out all the steps he has to do now in his head but then suddenly Nie Mingjue speaks up.

“I swear I’m gonna marry you some day,” he whispers, just low enough for his voice to still carry over to Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Cheng is pretty sure he wasn’t meant to hear this, but he did.

And it freezes him right up, even as he goes hot all over.

Jiang Cheng is pretty sure that his brain is shut off because he can’t form a coherent thought, but something else takes over. He turns around, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms in front of his chest, as he eyes Nie Mingjue, clearly looking much more composed than he actually feels.

Nie Mingjue’s face is white and his eyes are big and Jiang Cheng realizes that maybe he didn’t mean to say that at all.

But it’s out there now, and Jiang Cheng is actually going to roll with it.

No matter how nervous he is, and how fast his heart is beating or how sweaty his hands are and how much he’s screaming inside his own head.

“Excuse me? Don’t you think you’d have to ask me out first?” Jiang Cheng asks him and he congratulates himself on how put together he sounds.

Even though he feels like he’s going to vibrate right out of his skin with excitement.

Nie Mingjue’s eyes go even bigger at that question but he keeps quiet for a worryingly long time. Long enough that Jiang Cheng starts to shuffle his feet and he wonders if it’s too late to cite an emergency and simply run out on Nie Mingjue.

Before Jiang Cheng can decide to do that though, Nie Mingjue moves.

He slides off the chair and before Jiang Cheng can panic that maybe he isn’t doing well and this is a medical emergency, Nie Mingjue goes down on one knee.

Then, Jiang Cheng panics for entirely different reasons.

“Mingjue,” he gets out, his voice now definitely coloured with panic but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“Wanyin,” he says, and Jiang Cheng breathes just a little bit easier when he hears the slight tremor in Nie Mingjue’s voice. “Will you go out on a date with me?” Nie Mingjue asks him and it takes Jiang Cheng a moment to realize that it’s not actually the marriage question, like he feared.

But it seems to be a moment too long.

“What the fuck is happening here?” Nie Huaisang suddenly says from the doorway and Jiang Cheng jerks at hearing his voice.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t fare much better, because he shoots upright fast enough to nearly topple over his chair.

“I leave you alone for five minutes, to give you time to figure out your shit and you propose?!” Nie Huaisang screeches and this whole scene is ridiculous enough that Jiang Cheng starts to laugh.

It seems to dissipate the tension entirely, because even Nie Mingjue chuckles, while Nie Huaisang continues to look scandalised.

“No one proposed, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue finally says, but he can’t quite seem to bring himself to look away from Jiang Cheng. 

“You were down on one knee!”

“It was situational,” Nie Mingjue tries again, still looking at Jiang Cheng, who is slowly blushing with having Nie Mingjue’s attention for so long. “I was actually asking him out.”

“And what did he say?” Nie Huaisang asks and he sounds so eager that Jiang Cheng has to laugh.

“I didn’t say anything, cause then my boyfriend’s annoying younger brother ruined the moment,” he says, keeping his eyes on Nie Mingjue, too, and so he sees the moment the words register with him.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Nie Mingjue asks and it only takes him two steps to cross the room and put his hands on Jiang Cheng’s waist.

“Boyfriend,” Jiang Cheng nods, trying to sound much more firm than he feels, because his heart is definitely trying to beat right out of his chest at the moment and he feels jittery with happiness.

“I like how that sounds,” Nie Mingjue lowly says and he leans down, brushing his lips over Jiang Cheng’s cheek.

“You better,” Jiang Cheng gives back, angling his head to give Nie Mingjue better access. “Because there’s no getting rid of me now.”

“As if I would ever want to,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and then finally, finally claims Jiang Cheng’s lips in a kiss.

“Is this what I get for plotting this?” Nie Huaisang asks from somewhere behind them and he sounds so thoroughly scandalized that Jiang Cheng has to break the kiss to laugh against Nie Mingjue’s lips.

“Your brother is a little pest,” he conspiringly tells him and Nie Mingjue only nods, too busy peppering Jiang Cheng’s face with kisses.

“You’re both so rude,” Nie Huaisang complains and Jiang Cheng can’t be sure, because he can’t bring himself to look away from Nie Mingjue but he thinks Nie Huaisang just stomped his foot. “Still, if one of you goes ring-shopping, I want to be asked to come along.”

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself,” Jiang Cheng tells him over Nie Mingjue’s shoulder, his hands gripping Nie Mingjue’s waist hard when he lightly nibbles on his jaw and Jiang Cheng has to admit that his knees might just give out at any moment now.

“Mh, I don’t think he is,” Nie Mingjue says into his skin. “I’m definitely going to marry you some day.”

“Mingjue!” Jiang Cheng can’t believe what he’s hearing, but he can’t deny that a tiny part of himself already wants to say yes.

He hopes the day is not too far off in the future.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mingcheng #mdzs #modern au #getting together #fluff #humor #idiots in love

[mst3kproject]

The Alien Dead

I'm starting to think I need a tag for swamp hillbillies, because there are an awful lot of those in terrible movies and I have no idea why. This particular entry was produced and directed by Fred Olen Ray, who never made anything that ended up on MST3K but almost everything he's worked on sounds like it should have been, including Dinosaur Island, The Brain Leeches, and Bad Girls from Mars. The nearest thing it has to a star is Buster Crabbe, who was really big in the 30's and 40's when he was Tarzan and Flash Gordon in a bunch of serials.  The Alien Dead is cheap, shitty, and amateurish, and Pearl would have cackled like the madwoman she is as she ordered Brain Guy to send it up.

Somewhere in the dankest, stickiest depths of Florida, alligators, dogs, and people alike are being devoured by a mysterious swamp monster.  Local weirdo Emmett Michaels has a theory about bio-weapons and giant mutant opossums, while asshole Sheriff Kowalski puts out a bounty on what he believes to be a man-eating alligator... but the movie is called The Alien Dead, so the audience already knows it's space zombies.  Sure enough, ambitious reporter Tom Corman (yes, I'm pretty sure that's a deliberate 'tribute') and his girlfriend Shawn discover the terrible truth.  When a houseboat on the swamp was struck by a meteor, the partygoers on board rose again as indestructible blood-drinking monsters!

Variety is the spice of life.  I hate this movie almost as much as I hated Curse of the Voodoo, but at least I hate it for different reasons.  Curse of Voodoo was competently made but deeply offensive.  The Alien Dead is fairly innocuous in its subject matter but it is terrible. Every frame of it exudes Larry Buchanan-like levels of Nobody Gave A Shit.

Everything about this film feels half-assed, and some bits rate only like a twelfth of an ass, if that.  Buster Crabbe is the only person in The Alien Dead who might remotely be called an actor, but his character is the same lazy small-town sheriff from every cheap monster movie ever made.  He refuses to believe anything unusual is going on even when it's right in front of him, and ultimately contributes nothing to either guide or hinder Tom and Shawn.  Everybody else is absolutely dire, reciting their lines with less conviction than the average tiktoker. At least part of this is Fred Olen Ray's fault, since things like blocking are basically nonexistent.

A certain amount of it also falls to the script, which doesn't give anybody much to work with.  There are three characters who might have had something that counts as a personality.  Tom the reporter could have been a man desperate for something to write about besides wildlife wandering up Main Street and the occasional arrest of a drunk. Shawn could have been a young woman dreaming of a bigger world than this little hick town in the swamp.  Her father Emmett could have been a man tragically damaged by both war and peace.  The first two are ruined by the actors, who never manage to give any sort of urgency or depth to their stories, and the third is ruined by the script, which treats PTSD as a joke.

The thing with Emmett's confused memories of the war is actually very puzzling.  He refers to it as 'the big one' and claims to have personally prevented the use of bioweapons in the Great War... but he's nowhere near old enough to have been in World War I.  Is this supposed to be a delusion?  Is he remembering a previous reincarnation?  None of the other characters remark on the incongruity, even when they're professing disbelief in his stories, so I'm forced to conclude that it was just really, really bad casting.  Also, he shot down that plane full of experimental weapons over the swamps of Florida?  I could check, but I feel like there weren't a lot of air battles over Florida in WWI.

The rest of the characters are ciphers nobody gave a shit about, including the actors playing them.  There's a screechy old lady who threatens to beat her husband with a frying pan if he doesn't do his chores.  I think this is supposed to be funny, and then he gets eaten by zombies and she gets impaled on a pitchfork.  There's a girl at a bar who leaves her loser boyfriend, gets killed, and turns up again later as a zombie.  The only notable thing about her is that she's wearing a knitted tank top that has the word 'yes' on the front and 'no' on the back, spelled out in yarnovers.  There's a fat, bearded cop who is much more interested in watching women skinnydipping than in enforcing the law, and who is only in this movie because Fred Olen Ray wanted an excuse to film some tiddies.

So the director didn't care, the writers didn't care, the casting director didn't care, and the actors didn't care.  What else?  Well, the foley people definitely didn't care.  There are several places in the movie where sounds like footsteps or typewriter keys are dubbed in but don't even begin to match up with what we're actually seeing on the screen.  Whoever was responsible for the predictably shittastic day-for-night certainly didn't care.

The special effects and makeup people didn't care, either.  The meteor falling is represented by a birthday cake sparkler filmed against a black backdrop.  People in their death throes spit up red gelatin. The zombies are all different, ranging from one guy with a giant veiny head to one who's supposed to have an eyeball popping out to a lady who's just got some really dramatic contouring.  All of these have gray-green makeup slapped on their hands and faces, but not their arms or chests despite most being dressed in ragged clothing that leaves these areas easily visible.  The movie can't even decide how tough they are.  They appear to be immune to gunfire, but there's a bit where a woman kills one with a comb.

The biggest moment of just not caring in the entire movie, however, is the ending, where Tom and Shawn float off down the river on a boat, and... that's it.  They haven't made it to safety and the zombie problem is certainly not solved.  There's no sense of a conclusion or even of a 'gotcha' ending, the movie just stops in its tracks.  It's like they hit a desired length, and then everybody went, “guess that'll do, let's hit the pub.”

A movie like this is not even enjoyable to fans of schlock, because it's so desperately obvious that nobody was really enthusiastic about any aspect of it.  When you've got something like Teenagers from Outer Space, you can tell that everybody was trying their best even if their best wasn't actually very good.  In things like Larry Buchanan movies or The Alien Dead, the entire cast and crew are just here in the hopes of picking up a paycheque and are doing the bare minimum to achieve that.  They don't care about entertaining me, and I am not entertained.

Now on to the questions that matter: why are there so many movies about swamp hillbillies?

I think part of it may have to do with the fact that such people live in isolated areas where it's difficult to summon help.  Another part is probably the swamp itself.  Swamps seem very primordial and inhospitable to us, because we don't know what's under the muddy water.  It might be shallow enough to wade in, it might be deep enough to swallow us up.  We associate swamps with the prehistoric, and with decay.  A swamp isn't really a lake, but it's not land, either, and that makes it a liminal space, where anything is possible.

The people themselves are sometimes used as additional monsters, and sometimes as jokes.  In the first category we have specimens like Crenshaw from Boggy Creek II, where this cantankerous and well-armed man is treated as a dangerous and unpredictable creature of the wilderness.  Living so far from what we usually consider civilization, swamp people are portrayed as on the edge of sliding back into barbarism.  This is insulting and also kind of racist, as it's the same sort of reasoning that leads to isolated communities of non-white people being painted as savages or cannibals in other movies.

For the second, rural white people are one of the few remaining groups that it's culturally acceptable to make fun of, and a lot of these movies cheerfully portray them as stupid, inbred bumpkins.  MST3K was guilty of this and I've done quite a bit of it myself.  In this movie we have a joke where Shawn serves Tom dinner and he thinks it's delicious until she lets him know it's roast opossum.  All these characters are drunk, rude, uneducated, and badly-dressed.  It means we don't care too much when they die, the better to enjoy the spectacle of the deaths... but it's also not really funny.  A joke really ought to have a punchline, whereas this movie just points and goes, “look at the dumb hicks.”

Does this mean I have to stop hating on swamp hillbilly movies?  No, it doesn't – things like Squirm and Creature from Black Lake are still terrible in all kinds of unrelated ways.  But this is at least one kind thing I can say about The Alien Dead: it made me examine some of my personal prejudices and perhaps offered me a chance for growth.  Maybe in the future I'll be a little kinder to the white trash of the world...

… but probably not.  See you next time.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the alien dead #80s #everybody do the zombie stomp #what are you doing in my swamp?

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 20

Even if I had a crazy day at work I did manage to do my Monday post as promise... but if you notice typos...I am sorry. I read it and edited but my brain  left with the boat tonight (I work for a ferry company, hence the joke)

This is the first of a few chapters where our bird boy is away and Hamel is causing problems to our gang.

Also, Aelin tries to cook... well... you can imagine how did that go.

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

After the trip to the base Aelin had taken home a very sad Elide and then got back to her own place and cried herself to sleep while hugging Rowan’s pillow. It was very late in the afternoon and it was her day off and she had no intention of leaving her bed.

Her head was buried under the pillow when she heard her phone buzz so she scrambled to get it and her heart raced when she saw it was Rowan.

“Hi,” she said with a croaked vice.

“Are you okay?” Rowan was already in fussing mode.

“Yes I just woke up.” She heard a lot of background noise “where are you?”

“Vulture’s row.” He activated his camera and showed Aelin the view of a fully functional flight deck. “Uh, wait.” He pointed the camera stern of the ship and showed Aelin a jet landing.

“That was so cool.” He turned the camera to him and she saw him with his sunglasses and his hair messed up by the wind. Then he switched off the camera and they went back to normal.

“Are you there yet?”

“We are skirting around. We still have a few hours before we are fully in enemy territory.”

Then Aelin heard a siren of some sort and Rowan swore “I’ll call you as soon as I can again. I need to scramble. Love you.”

“Be safe.” She managed to add before he closed the phone call.

She collapsed again in bed then decided to call Lysandra and Elide and organise a day out the three of them shopping. Elide needed cheering up as well.

The next day Aelin, Elide and Lysandra had decided to have a girls’ afternoon to cheer up the two ladies who had their boys away. They met at the entrance of the shopping centre and Aelin went to hug Elide first of all “how are you doing?”

“Lorcan gave me a brief call yesterday telling me they were on the ship and on their way, then he had to go.”

Aelin sighed “today we don’t think about our far away boys.”

“And maybe you can buy some very sexy lingerie as a present for when Lorcan comes back.” Commented Lysandra and Elide blushed.

“What’s the point?” Asked Elide “you are taking it off anyway.”

Aelin laughed and took Elide’s hand “remember the dress I had at the navy party?”

Elide nodded “it was stunning.”

“I was not wearing anything underneath. It drove Rowan crazy.”

“I have done it a few times with Aedion and I agree with Aelin. The sex afterward has been amazing.”

“How do I learn all these things?”

“Stick with us and we will teach you.”

“Let’s go for some food,” said Aelin, “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“How will you survive now without your sexy chef in the house?” Asked Lysandra.

“Oh, I’ll just go back to my usual order in and ready meals.” Shrugged Aelin who had no intention of even trying to cook anything.

Lysandra took Aelin’s hand and walked toward a restaurant “come on Elide, let’s get this girl properly fed.”

The three women got into the restaurant and sat down and Aelin started perusing the menu eager for some decent food and not long after they placed their order. Lys was right, without Rowan she would be lost when it came to food. Rowan had properly spoiled her.

“How are the wedding preparations going?” Asked Aelin.

Lysandra and Aedion’s wedding was not far away and she was excited to see her best friend finally having her happy ending.

“We are getting there.”

“Do you have a dress yet?” Asked Elide all excited.

Lysandra took out her phone and showed them her dress.

“That is gorgeous. Aedion will not be able to keep his eyes off you during the ceremony.”

“That is the plan.” Lysandra smiled wickedly “but the biggest question is who is going to be next?”

“My money is on Aelin,” chimed Elide “Lor is not emotionally ready for such a step. You and the captain on the other hand…” her eyebrows flicked in amusement.

“She is right, and the two of you basically live together.”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?” Lysandra was confused by the admission.

“We haven’t covered the subject yet. He still has his flat and some of his stuff there. Even after I recovered he never left and I never pushed because I like having him around.”

“Will you ask him to move in officially?”

Aelin sighed “maybe. When he comes back. I don’t know. Things are going well and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Do you think he’ll say no?” Asked Lysandra. Brainstorming with her friend was always helpful and recently she hadn’t done it enough.

“I don’t think so. But living together is as far as we can go just now. For many, many reasons.”

“Is it because of Sam?”

“Only partially.” She was not going to tell her friends Rowan’s story. She had no right. So she remained vague hoping the two friends would get the hint and not ask anymore questions.

“Still, my money is on you two.” Added Lys “Elide is right, Lorcan does not seem to have yet the emotional ability to commit.”

“Hey, he kissed her in public. And yesterday at the base he seemed quite nice to her.”

“Quite?”

“I don’t know, I was concentrating on Rowan I just cast a brief glance at them.” Replied Aelin.

“He was super kind.” Added Elide taking biting on a breadstick.

Their food finally arrived and Aelin was the first to tuck in.

“Does the captain know about your crazy eating habits?” Asked Lysandra amused.

“Yes,” replied Aelin, enjoying her food “he calls me his bottomless pit. When we had our first date he joked that he might need a mortgage just to feed me.”

Elide laughed “Sam used to joke and say that he needed a second job just for feeding you.”

“I move a lot,” replied Aelin with a grin “I have a big appetite.”

“I think it must be a firefighter thing. Aedion is the same.” Lysandra grinned “and we burn a lot of calories.”

“Eeewwww, I did not need to know that. He is my cousin.”

“Oh come one, as if you and hot captain do not engage in illicit activities. The whole squad guessed that the other night you two had sex in the shower after the call at the club.”

“I was just giving him a special goodbye.” Her hand gently brushed the spot where she could feel his tags. She did a bit of research and she was happy she had a copy. Having the real one meant he was gone and she could not think about that.

“Are you okay?” Asked Lysandra worried at her sudden change of expression.

“Yeah.” She added flatly, then gave them a big smile. It was their day off she should not spoil it.

“So, are we taking Elide lingerie shopping?” Aelin teased trying to raise the spirits of her friend.

“Yes, it’s going to be fun.” Added Lysandra all excited.

“Girls… there is really no need. What I have is okay. Lorcan is not fussed.”

Aelin took a bite of her food “oh but we will make sure he is fussed and also that he knows how sexy you are so he does not decide to…. wander.”

“How do I keep him? I am nowhere near as interesting as the two of you. He might get bored of me very soon.”

Aelin stared at her friend and it broke her heart that her horrible past left her with no confidence at all. Elide was brilliant at her job and she was an intelligent woman and she was positive she would make quite a few heads turn.

“Don’t you say something like that ever again.” Lysandra preceded her. She was even more protective of Elide than her “I work with you everyday and I know how awesome you are and I am positive that if we go to a club you’d have your share of men looking at you.”

Aelin nodded.

They finished their meal and went back wandering around the shopping centre and visited a few shops. In one of them Aelin wandered in the male department and spotted a couple of lovely jumpers. One of them was a deep green and looked very cozy and she realised she had no idea of when it was Rowan’s birthday.

Silly question, you never told me your birthday. She sent the text and knew a reply might take a long time to come. She grabbed the jumper and tried to decide whether it was the right size for him.

“That is a lovely jumper.” Said Lysandra joining her at her side “already thinking about useful presents? You are like an old married couple.”

Aelin laughed.

“But I think this one is really nice and the man seems to look amazing in green.”

“I am just wondering about the size.”

Lysandra grabbed the tag “this one will fit Aedion so you should be fine.”

A moment later Elide rejoined them, her face beetroot red “I feel so silly.” And showed the girls her bag with her lingerie purchase.

“Hey, Ace and I are joking. You didn’t have to buy it if it makes uncomfortable.” But Elide surprised them “I will buy just one pair for now and I’ll see how it goes.”

Lysandra laughed “Aelin is already buying presents married couple style and you are still in the sexy lingerie stage. My girls have grow up so much.”

“And what stage are you and Aedion?” Asked Aelin with a grin.

“The one where I go to the grocery store and I phone him to ask him if he wants beef or chicken for dinner.”

The rest of the afternoon went swimmingly and she loved spending the day with Lys and Elide. They didn’t do that nearly enough.

Now she was back home and in the kitchen trying to accomplish her new mission. She had bought a cooking book for beginners and she had decided she was going to try and cook dinner. Lysandra had told her to start with something as simple as a stir fry. So she had bought a few more kitchen supplies and a pan Lys had told her was called a wok. She had mused why she could not use the pot she already had and Lys had rolled her eyes. Aelin had also bought the ingredients and now they were all lined up in front of her, the book open and a fire blanket and a small fire extinguisher on the counter just to be safe it was her cooking after all. She took a photo and sent it to Rowan then started working. When it got to cut the onions she cursed herself for deciding to cook.

Her phone rang and put it on speaker “hey,” her voice sounded strained and Rowan went in full fussing mode “are you okay?”

“Yeah, cutting those blasted onions.” She sniffled.

Over the line she heard Rowan roar with laughter “what are you making?” He asked as soon as he stopped laughing.

“A chicken stir fry. Lys said it’s easy to do.”

“Why are you putting onions in it?”

“Because I like them, mr I know how to cook.”

“I even bought a wok. Apparently I cannot use my pot.” She added as while throwing the ingredients in the pan.

“Seriously, when I get back we are going to have a massive overhaul of your kitchen.”

And Aelin’s heart raced in joy. It sounded like he had no intention of going back permanently to his flat. Maybe when he got back she should ask him the question after all.

“Aelin, it’s a miracle you have cutlery and two plates.” She could hear the humour in his voice.

“How are things going?”

“I just came off patrol. I am on my way to my quarters to get changed. I don’t have the most appealing scent just now.”

“Shower without me, so what? Two minutes max?”

“That’s about it. The water supply is not endless.”

He finally got to his quarters and collapsed on his bed after removing his boots then lay down and activated the camera.

“Hi sexy,” she did the same and placed the phone against the wall in front of her so he could see her as well.

“I don’t see any smoke. That’s a good start, considering it’s you.”

Aelin gave him the middle finger and then showed him her small fire extinguisher “I am prepared.” She took a bit of her food “for now it tastes edible, but not as good as yours.”

She saw him give her a smug smile and her instinct was to wipe it off his face with a kiss.

“The answer is July 16th, by the way.”

Aelin looked at him not understanding his statement.

“My birthday? You asked me earlier on.”

That she did “That’s two months away.”

“And when it’s yours?”

“May 3rd.”

“Aelin, that’s in two days.” He added sadly “and it sucks I can’t be there.”

“Lys has planned to drag me out with the girls of the firehouse. It’s also her bachelorette party. I have to go.”

“I almost forgot they were getting married. That came around quickly.”

Aelin laughed “not when you have been around them for years.” Aelin placed her food in a plate and moved to the sofa, taking her phone with her.

“When is the wedding?”

“This weekend. The weather is meant to be gorgeous which is a good thing since they are getting married outdoors.”

She heard him sigh “I really, really wish I could be there with you.”

She did not add that she had been thinking the same. So she just took a bite of her food.

“Edible?”

“Fuck no,”Aelin spit the morsel back in the plate “I must have done something wrong with the spices. It tastes horrible.” She grabbed her house phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Clearly ordering in. I am not eating this.”

Rowan rolled his eyes “you should practice more.”

“Why bother? I am clearly not cut for cooking. I am hopeless.”

“Do I need to tell you the amount of times my food sucked when I was still learning to cook decently? I got better with trial and error.”

Aelin huffed “fine I’ll try again on my next day off.” Then she put her house phone down after placing the order “I thought you were going for a shower?”

“Eager to get rid of me?”

“No, I just was hoping to have a peek at that nice arse of yours.”

Rowan laughed “If you behave.”

“Do you have the quarters all for yourself?”

Rowan nodded in the screen “the perks of rank. Gav is sharing with Vaughan. The twins are on their own.”

“Is that wise?”

“This carrier has a nice number of female officers. No one wants to go anywhere near that room.”

“Remember I am jealous, Whitethorn.”

“Some of them are middies on their snot cruise, so very young. The others… still not interested.”

“Who is a middie?”

“It’s short for midshipman or woman. They are the lowest ranking officers in the navy, just above the cadets. And a snot cruise is their first time out at sea on a proper mission.”

“Are your students middies as well?” She loved asking all those questions that might have sounded silly to him, but he never made her feel stupid for asking. He was always happy to answer.

“No, my students are called pilot officers. Then they become Flying officers, then flight lieutenants which is what the twins are, then Vaughan is our squadron leader, Gav is the Wing commander and then you have me.”

“Sounds so complicated.” She definitely needed to do more research to understand his job a bit better.

“It’s like you guys. Aedion looks after one rig as a lieutenant, you are the captain and are in charge of the operations of both at the same time and Dorian will be in charge of all the engines in case multiples houses are involved. Am I correct?”

Aelin nodded impressed.

“Same for us. Vaughan looks after our small squadron, Gav two or three squadrons, which is called a wing. I look after a unit composed of different wings and then Lorcan plays god in the CIC.”

“Now it makes more sense. So I could be your wing commander.”

“Having you fly with us would be insane. We would not concentrate on the enemy.”

Aelin laughed, then the buzzer of the door went off “just a sec, buzzard, food is here.” She went to get her food and plopped back on the sofa resuming her call with Rowan.

“Is your ship nice?”

“I served on her before. Not as swanky as the new one, but she is decent enough.” Rowan sat back up “hey, I really need to take that shower and then it’s chow time. If I miss it I don’t eat until tomorrow morning.”

“Go. Sorry for keeping you.”

“You did not such things. I have been looking forward to call you.”

“I love you.” She told him, sending back the tears that had started forming.

“I love you too, Fireheart.”

Aelin waved him goodbye and went back eating while tears had begun flowing down her cheeks. It had only been two days and she hoped it would get easier being so far apart.

***

The next morning she arrived at the station bright and early, got changed and went straight to Aedion “Are you ready?”

The man nodded “Peter is covering you until we get back from the police and I got Manon in charge of the second rig.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

They arrived at the police headquarters not long after and Chaol met them at the reception area “Hi guys,”

“Here’s my favourite cop.” Aelin went to hug Chaol.

“Just because I keep reporters away from you.”

She gave him a huge smile back.

“Come, detective Ytger is waiting for you.” They followed behind him in silence and stopped in front of a door and knocked.

A female voice told them to go in and once in the office Aelin recognised the same woman at one of the arson cases a few months back.

“Captain, Lieutenant, we meet again.” The three shook hands and the detective sat back down and invited both cousins to do the same.

The detective threw a thick file on the desk “you two have just made a very powerful enemy.”

“The man is a bastard.”

“Believe me, captain, when I tell you that Hamel has been a thorn in my side for a very long time.”

“And why is he still at large? Two people died and the man did not care.”

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose “he has very powerful lawyers and always gets away with murder. We have been working on him for a long time but whatever piece of proof we bring in is never enough to get him behind bars for good.” Aelin could sense the tiredness in her voice.

“Did you close his club as I asked?”

“We did, but he owns almost all the ones in Orynth. And so much more.”

“Can’t you arrest him for murder?” voiced Aedion.

“No, his lawyers showed us the papers of the latest inspections and the place was deemed to code. He blamed the company that did the inspections for lying to him.”

“Detective, I hope you are aware that is a bullshit.” Said Aedion, fury burning under his surface.

“I am well aware.” The woman added almost apologetically “the closure is temporary. It will not stick too long.”

Aelin almost swore “Have the other clubs been checked?”

“We did some undercover recon but we don’t have the full skillset to know what’s up to code.”

Aelin smiled wickedly “well, it’s a good thing that you have a firefighter whose birthday is very soon and was planning to go to a club.”

“You are not dragging Lys and the others in this.”

“Calm down. Hamel does not know them, they are safe. I will wear a disguise.”

“I don’t like the sound of this.” He protested again but he knew Aelin could be stubborn.

“I am coming too.”

“No,” said Aelin “One: Hamel remembers how you lifted him up and he will not forget such act. Two: it’s Lys bachelorette party as well. So, no.” she paused “you can take the guys to another one.”

“What happens if we find both clubs not up to specs?” Asked Aelin worried that it was going to be a lost cause.

“We can start by closing them and gather a bit more time to have more material against him. We have other leads. We just need something significant.”

They discussed with the detective which clubs to hit and they left.

Once in the car Aedion made his displeasure quite clear “I do not like this.”

“Neither do I, but the police has no idea what to look for.” Replied Aelin.

“We are not cops.”

“And they are not firefighters.”

After that they drove in silence all the way back to the station.

***

Two days had passed and Aelin’s birthday had arrived. She arrived at the station and laughed at the scene. One of the rigs was covered in balloons and a sign saying happy birthday, cap and the second rig was for Aedion and Lysandra and the front of the truck had a long white sheet over it that looked like a bridal veil and two massive papier mache rings attached to the front.

She laughed and joined Ansel and Manon who were doing some checks “did everyone see this?” She pointed at the engine and truck. The two women nodded.

“Then let’s clear it. I do not want to go on a call in that state.”

“Yes, captain.” Said the two women in unison. 

The locker room was empty and she sat down on the bench and looked at her phone again. She was hoping for a text from Rowan or a call but nothing yet. She kept telling herself that he was busy and probably out flying. She removed his dog tags and hung them in the locker and stood and stared at the pictures she had hung up. It was some of the photos they had taken in Doranelle. With her finger she brushed a photo of him. He was standing and looking up to the sky. His eyes closed and a small smile painted on his face and his hair all tousled after she had messed it up. It was one of her favourite photos of him. “Be safe, please.” And she blew him a kiss.

Aelin got dressed and then reached the team who was having breakfast in the communal room.

“She is here.” Shouted Nox happily.

Luca grabbed her arm and pulled to the table where a cake was waiting for her.

“Chocolate hazelnut cake. Your favourite.” He cut a slice and offered it to her.

Aelin grabbed it eagerly “mmmmm”

“Get a room you two,” shouted Ress.

A moment later Manon came through with a man carrying a large box “he says this is for you, captain.”

“Thanks, Manon.”

Aelin grabbed the box from the courier and sat down on the sofa. It came from a shop in Orynth. Strange. She opened the box and when she peeked inside she saw a massive stuffed toy. Once she lifted it she realised it was a bird and she had a feeling she knew who it was from.

“A bird? Why a bird?” Asked Lysandra.

Aelin smiled, grabbed the stuffed toy and walked to her bunk to be alone when she noticed the letter inside.

Once alone she sat down on her bed and placed the bird at her side and read the letter

Happy birthday, fireheart.

I wish I could be there for you but I can’t and it hurts more than I thought possible.

If you are reading this, you have met your new friend. I could not find a buzzard but a toy shop in Orynth had a white-tailed hawk and since I have silver hair I thought it was the closest option. Do we look similar? He will keep you company while I can’t be there with you.

I will try and call you tomorrow if I get a free moment, but the guys and I have pulled alert crew duty for the day so no phone for me.

Have fun with the girls and leave the other guys alone especially if they are navy and army.  Aelin chuckled at the joke

I miss you already.

I love you. Madly. 

To whatever end.

Yours, 

Buzzard.

By the time she had finished reading the letter she was in tears. She hugged the soft toy and for a moment she hoped to smell his scent of pine and snow. She went to her locker, grabbed the dog tags and put them around the bird’s neck “you look after them while I am on shift, but then I take them back.” After that she took a photo and sent it to Rowan “I think I will call him Rowan.”

**

It was later that night and Lysandra and Elide were at Aelin’s place to get ready for their fun night. Aelin though, was not in the mood. Rowan had eventually called her but the phone call was cut short when he had go and scramble. Soft toy Rowan was on her bed, his dog tags back on since she would not be wearing them with her dress.

Lysandra was going through her wardrobe looking for a dress for the night.

“So, the captain does have clothes that are not uniform,” said the woman going through his clothes but Aelin glared at her and Lys went back to Aelin’s side of the dresser.

“Did he phone you?”

“Yeah.” Said Aelin flatly while wearing her dress.

“Lorcan said they were having a couple of shitty days.”

Aelin ignored her friend or she would end up in tears and ruin her make up.

“Did he give you his dog tags?” Asked Lys noting them pending from the bird’s neck.

“No, he can’t. He made a copy. And I don’t want the original ones until he retires.”

“Why?” Asked Elide while she was busy fixing her hair.

“Because it means he is dead. They are used for identification.” Replied Lysandra flatly. She had learned that from Aedion.

“Can we please change subject?” Snapped Aelin.

Lysandra grabbed a green dress “what do you think?”

“It will go perfectly with your eyes.” Said Aelin wearing her blue dress.

“I thought you loved the captain.” Said Elide.

“Uh?”

“That dress?” Added Lys pointing at her attire “it makes you look as if you are open to being chased.”

“Too slutty?”

“Ansel will be proud of you.”

Aelin smiled “I do love the captain and I have no plans on taking anyone home. My only companion in bed tonight will be bird Rowan.” Then she wore a wig of red hair.

“Why the wig?”

Aelin and Aedion had decided not to tell anyone about their plan for the night, so she had to lie although it hurt lying to Lysandra “just for some fun.”

They arrived at the club half an hour later and Manon, Asterin and Ansel were already there and apparently already having fun.

“You made it” shouted the red-haired woman. “And who is the hot red-haired friend?”

“It’s me, Ansel.”

“Captain, you look hot.”

Aelin laughed “thank you.”

“We got some drinks already,” said Manon.

“Happy birthday, captain,” said Asterin raising her glass “and congratulation to Lys for bagging the meanest lieutenant in the TFD.”

Their glasses clinked and then Aelin spotted Chaol in the distance. What the heck was he doing at the club? She nodded at him and he gave her a small nod back. Everyone knew Chaol and if the girls spotted him it could raise some questions so she texted him with the pretence of being the overbearing girlfriend checking on her man.

The girls went out dancing and she stood behind saying she was not in the mood when she was actually trying to check out the place. She was about to join Chaol in his hideout when a guy stopped at her side and blocked her way “aren’t you a stunning creature?” He said and Aelin cringed. She really hated clubs and the pigs that came with them.

“Of course I am.”

She felt his arm sneak around her waist and his body move closer to hers and she closed her eyes at the fact that those arms were not Rowan’s.

“What if I buy you a few drink and have some fun you and I?”

“You couldn’t handle me.” She said to him in a whisper.

“I love a good challenge. My flat is not far from here.” And his hand slithered up on her back.

Aelin scoffed “I’d never have sex with you even if we were the last two humans left in the world.”

She made to walk away but he grabbed her arm. She almost punched him but in that instant she felt someone hugging her from behind “it’s me, follow my lead.” He whispered in her ear and she noticed it was Chaol.

“Thank you for finding my girlfriend. I went to the gents and I lost her.”

“Sorry darling,” said Aelin caressing Chaol’s face.

The stranger walked away annoyed.

“Thank you.”

“You were holding your own anyway.” He commented.

“I was about to punch him and cause a scene and mess up the mission.” She whispered then grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quiet booth at the back of the club

“What are you doing here?”

“Detective Ytger sent me here as back up. Hamel’s minions know all of the detectives but not us beat cops.”

“How do you want to proceed?” She asked him.

“You are the firefighter, I am just here to make sure you get out okay.”

“Ok, I need to walk around. Just keep an eye on me.” Chaol nodded and Aelin walked away.

She went back to the bar area and smiled when Elide walked toward her “Ace!! Come on it’s your birthday, you need to come and have fun.” She also had a job to do but felt bad at abandoning her friends. So she joined them again and Lys grabbed her for some dancing.

“How how many hearts did you break?”

“Just the one but he was a pig.”

“Did you tell him you have a super hot captain waiting for you?” 

Aelin shrugged and turned to Elide.

“How many drinks did Ansel give you?”

Elide lifted three fingers in front of her face “two.”

Aelin laughed “no more alcohol for you.”

“Buuut I am sad and I miss Lorcan.” Aelin hugged her friend knowing full well how she felt.

“Still, no more alcohol, you just can’t hold it.”

She walked Elide to Manon “can you keep an eye on her please? And just water please. Elide has reached her alcohol quota for the evening.”

“Of course.”

Aelin smiled at the white-haired woman. She was very introverted and of a very few words but she did not care about that since she was good at her job. She was the complete opposite of Ansel.

Speaking of the woman…”where did Ansel go?”

“Last time I have seen her she was dancing with a brunette.” Aelin dragged a hand on her face “I am going to the ladies. Just behave, okay?”

She used the excuse to slip away and walk around as she was supposed to do. She wanted to try and take some photo as proof but covert operations were not her forte.

“You are back,” whispered Chaol at her back.

“I’ll pretend to be drunk and lost.”

“Be careful, this is making me nervous.”

She nodded and walked away from him. Part of her was glad she had not mentioned this to Rowan, he would have gone in full protective mode.

She kept pretending she was drunk and dumb and ended up in the kitchen “sorry,” she slurred, leaning against the doorframe “are these the loos?”

“No miss,” said one of the staff “they are down there and on your right.” She gave the man a goofy smile and a wet kiss on the cheek “thank you, sweet man.” The hug had given her the time to have a very quick look in the kitchen and note there was no safety equipment. That was enough for her to shut down that club as well. How could they run a kitchen that way? She really had to take down the bastard. She hid in the shadows of the club and and checked the fire doors without activating them and found them of shoddy quality. She was fuming. She had a good look at the club and realised even the numbers of people allowed in was probably over the limit. Those doors were for 60 people, she could only see three on ground level, which meant a limit of 180 people. There were probably over three hundred, all crammed and spread on two levels. It was a firefighter nightmare. She ran back to Chaol “go home. I have seen enough. Tell the detective this place needs to be shut down as well.”

“I’ll phone her as soon as I am out. She was waiting for news anyway.”

“Go, and say hi to Yrene.”

Chaol left and she ran back to her friends nervous that she was placing them in danger. She wanted to go but the idea of leaving all those people behind made her nervous. She texted Aedion and rage surged back when he told her that their club was the same.

The girls took her dancing in the middle of the dance floor and danced away ignoring a couple of guys basically dancing on her. She hated clubs so much and the music was horrible. She bit down her annoyance and went to hug Lysandra “how does it feel to be almost married?”

“Weird.” She looked at Aelin “are you having fun?”

“You know I don’t like clubs but I came for you, it’s your night after all.”

“It’s your birthday too.”

Aelin shook her head “I get one every year, you better marry my cousin and stick to him.”

“And you stick to the captain. I want to come to your wedding.”

Aelin laughed “we’ll see…” then she turned and saw Elide leaning against the counter half asleep “what if we take the party to my place? I am sick of this place.”

“Please,” said Manon in a hopeful tone. She hated clubs as well “we can get alcohol on the way home. If I hear another man asking me why my hair is white I am going to start snapping necks.”

“Hey Manon, no need to snap necks,” then Aelin looked around for Ansel.

“I’ll get her,”said Asterin when she noticed the woman in the distance.

The woman came back with Ansel in tow and moved closer to Aelin “the fire exits are not enough and one is blocked.” She whispered.

“I know, I am going to call Peter and explain the situation to him.” She took her phone out “take the others to the cars. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Aelin watched Asterin walking the group to safety then hid in dark a corner and phoned Peter explaining that they had to pretend they had an anonymous call and come and pay a visit to the place and shut it down. The man agreed after she explained him the situation in terms of safety. She was playing dirty but could not care less. People’s lives were at stake. Hamel could just go and impale himself for all she cared.

Quickly she left the building and she went to her car joining Lys and Elide. The remaining women were in Manon’s car.

They stopped for booze on the way and finally got back home. Aelin took Elide piggyback style as the woman had fallen asleep. Once in the flat she placed Elide in the spare bedroom and covered her with a blanket then went back to the rest of the group camped in her living room. A text from Peter told her that the club had been safely evacuated and closed. Apparently he had found even more infractions that she had not the time to spot. 

“Ok, ladies back to the party.” Aelin grabbed a mixed selection of glasses and mugs for the beer.

Ansel stood and went to use the bathroom and came back a few minutes later “why do you have guy’s stuff on the bathroom shelf? Do you live with the silver fox?”

Aelin sighed “Rowan has been living here since I was discharged from the hospital.”

“That was a while ago.”

“I know.” Aelin sighed.

“Yes!” Shouted Ansel pulling Aelin toward her “our captain is shacking up. I am so proud of you.”

After a few drinks, Ansel would become very friendly with anyone. It was a good thing they had left the club.

In that instant she got a text from Aedion saying that he had activated the fire alarm in their club and evacuated the whole place after he had spotted a shit ton of infractions. Well, that was probably another club down. Definitely not what they had agreed with the detective but they had to do something.

“Ok, since this is a bachelorette party as well, we can have a bit of spiciness.” Said Asterin while drinking her beer “unusual place where you had sex. We need to give Lys some ideas.”

“Do we?” Joked Aelin “Lys would definitely teach us something.” Then everyone looked at Ansel “after her of course.”

“I once hooked up with civilian pilot and we did it in his cockpit before he got to fly the plane”

“Where you flying as well?” Asked Lysandra curious.

Ansel nodded “it’s a long story.”

“Aelin, you are up. I bet the captain is wild.” Lysandra’s eyebrows lifted suggestively.

“He is pretty amazing but the strangest places have been a beach, the sea, behind a waterfall, a pool at the foot of two different waterfalls and almost on a military ship.”

“Almost?” Asked Manon curious.

“I’ll show you the dress.”

Aelin went to get her black dress and got back a moment later “and he knew I had nothing underneath.”

The group of women cheered loudly “that must have driven him insane.” Joked Asterin.

“That’s why the almost. We would have been in a lot of trouble if we got caught.”

“I have nothing left to teach you.”Ansel was sprawled on a chair and lifted her beer in acknowledgment.

“Lys?”

The woman blushed savagely “in a car wash. Aedion and I stayed in the car while it was getting washed and… well.. it was quick but fun.”

“Definitely nothing to teach you,” Aelin clinked her bottle with her friend.

“Asterin?”

“My previous firehouse, with one of my colleagues on top of a rig on a night shift.”

Manon gave a light chuckle “was it when you were at the Regional 2?”

Asterin nodded “he was some hot firefighter. We are still friends. We did it once and then it felt so weird and never happened again.” She explained.

Aelin sighed “The night of the mayor’s party, Thomas and I hooked up. We ended up at my place. We did it, realised it was rebound sex and finished the night with tv and junk food.” Thinking about him still pained her.

“No friggin way. More than the kiss?” Asked Lysandra shocked.

Aelin nodded “after you saw us kissing I left, he found me, we went back to my place.”

Aelin looked around and noticed that no one wanted to make too many comments, his death was still too fresh for everyone and he had been Manon’s and Asterin’s captain.

“Does Rowan know?”

“I told him and he is fine. We were nothing at the time and I was mad at him.”

In that instant Elide joined the group and Aelin stood and went to her “hey, how are you feeling?”

“My head hurts.” Replied the woman leaning against Aelin.

“I should take her home. We are working tomorrow we should all go home.”

“Lys is right,” added Asterin “another 24hrs shift ahead, we need some sleep.”

Manon and Asterin offered to take Ansel home and Aelin remained with Lys and a sleepy Elide.

“I am sorry the evening sucked.”

“Hey,” Lysandra placed her hands on Aelin’s shoulders “it didn’t, and to be honest we were all quite tired. All it matters is to marry that annoying cousin of yours.”

“Take Elide home, she is about to go to sleep again.”

Once Aelin was alone she finally shed the dress and opened one of Rowan’s drawers and grabbed a t-shirt. They were usually far too big for her but she loved them as pyjama. She went to the bathroom, got ready and then finally got in bed with bird Rowan and squeezed close to his pillow to inhale his scent.

She grabbed her phone and found a text from Rowan

I hope you had a nice evening. I wish I had been there with you because it’s bad out here. I hope bird me is keeping you company. Have a nice night, Fireheart. Love you.

Aelin’s heart sank at the anguish in his voice. She tried to call him but had no answer.

I love you, come back to me, was all she managed.

She squeezed bird Rowan and tried very hard to fall asleep.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp​

@jlinez​

@swankii-art-teacher​

@courtofjurdan​

@whimsicallyreading​

@tillyrubes10​

@surielandiareendgame​

@aelin-bitch-queen​

@bruiseonthefaceofhumanity 

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #Lysandra #elide lochan #Throne of Glass series #fanfic

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

summary: a chance encounter puts Fiona Tanner in the sights of the Cullen family. Emmett takes an immediate liking to her, but Edward thinks she's a threat to the family. No Emmett x Rosalie. warnings: kidnapping, ooc behaviour? words: 4kish

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 1

From the moment her boots hit the cement on the busy Seattle sidewalk, the search was on. Holding tightly to the handle of her suitcase she tried to get her bearings. Fiona Tanner’s sister had been missing for months. The cops had nothing, and they weren’t taking any of Fiona’s advice.

“Let us do our jobs, ma’am. We’ll find your sister…” had not so slowly turned into “we can’t find someone that doesn’t want to be found.” Insinuating that her sister had run away with some boy, over the fact that the cops simply hadn’t done a good enough job. Bree was a troubled kid, who left home in a hurry before she’d turned fifteen. But she always stayed in contact with Fiona. Little messages from burner phones to let her sister know that she was okay.

A person could only drag their sister back just to watch her run away again so many times before they needed an alternative solution.

Like she was going to just sit around and hope that they were right. She was an extra set of eyes and ears. There was nothing that could stand between her, and finding her sister. At the very least she was going to get the truth.

Besides, she knew for a fact that her sister was dead.

The bus dropped Fiona off in front of an old diner. It looked out of place next to two modern buildings, but the charm of it drew her in. The ladies inside were friendly, offering her a table and some coffee. She ordered a burger with fries and a root beer. While the waitress withdrew to the kitchen, Fiona pulled out a map of the city that she had started using as her guide to remember everything. The map and a small notebook she’d bought at the dollar store.

The map had a small blue X over a bookstore just a few blocks over, which was her first stop after getting some lunch. Now seemed like the best time to take stock of everything she knew so far.

Bree’s friends had no idea where she was. But they weren’t the brightest bunch, and not really the trustworthy type either.

Another boy from the area had gone missing recently as well. Riley Biers, last seen in May, 2010. He went missing near Pike Place Market.

Bree wouldn’t ever just run away with someone without telling her. She was in trouble.

And that was it. That was all Fiona knew.

But the family couldn’t just move on. Bree had looked exactly like Fiona did at her age. It became a curse when her own parents would struggle to look into her eyes, preferring to stare into their glass whenever she entered the room. It was like that a year ago, but when she had to tell her parents that she’d been talking to Bree, and hadn’t told them…

Being away from them wasn’t the worst thing right now.

It wasn’t something she wanted to think about at that moment. Her concentration needed to be on her investigation.

“Here ya go,” the waitress said, setting down the plate of food. Fiona smiled, and slid her map out of the way. She was starving.

She picked up a fry and brought it to her mouth, but suddenly felt… wrong. There was a weird feeling in her mind. Like someone was watching. No, not watching. Listening.

Then clear as day she heard it. This tiny little nagging voice that had started harassing her a few weeks ago. It sounded just like her sister, except this voice was deeper, raspy like she was dying of thirst.

Run, Fiona.

She put the fry back and grabbed a twenty from her wallet, strolling up to the counter to pay and get a to go container. Fiona kept her cool, but kept her defences up.

Don’t think about me.

Fiona looked around the diner. There were two teens taking pictures of their milkshakes and giggling. Then there was a couple. A girl and an Abercrombie model. Only one plate of food between them.

As if on cue, the boy picked up one of her fries and put it in his mouth. But Fiona didn’t miss the confused look on the girls’ face when he did it. He whispered something under his breath that made the girl look down, her hair making a waterfall to block out her face. But it didn’t matter, Fiona had his face painted in her memories.

I said, run!

The voice was annoying. But the scary thing to Fiona, was that she could hear dead people. Kind of like a medium, but she suppressed it. Pushed it down, down, down until it was suffocated. Bree, however, always knew how to get under Fiona’s skin.

Please, Fiona thought, just tell me what happened.

I told you, it’s not safe. Go home!

“Lady?” said the waitress, holding out the change to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said, putting her phoney smile back on. “Sorry, keep the change.” She took her to go box to the table and threw the fries in it, and everything else she owned back in her bag. She flipped it over one shoulder gracefully and grabbed her burger, taking a big bite of it. She looked back at the couple, but caught his narrowed eyes staring at her.

He was the one listening. She tried to immediately cover her thoughts by thinking the alphabet as loud as possible, but she could read from the look on his face that it was too late.

You’re going to get hurt. Bree had been fighting Fiona every step of the way. Putting fake clues in her mind, trying to push out clues that were helpful…

It was annoying.

C’mon Bree, Fiona thought. Gimme a clue.

How about a hint?

Yes, Bree! Please give me a hint.

Okay, go home. That’s your hint. Goodnight.

Goodnight, yourself. It’s not even dark out.

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 2

Wake up!! Bree was shouting. It was frantic, unlike anything Fiona had ever heard before. Please, Fiona, please, wake up!! Someone is in the bathroom!

In a second, all of the grogginess was wiped away. Fiona sat up quickly, pulling the blankets to her chest. She had triple, quadruple checked that the door was locked before bed. And she could see that it was still locked now. How could someone have…

I think… they’re leaving.

How?? Fiona was starting to shake. There’s no window in there.

Then something in the air shifted. And the only reason she knew something was different was the tiny breeze she felt on her face, and the fact that the door wasn’t locked anymore.

Who was in here, Bree?

I’m not telling.

But you know?

No.

Liar.

Fiona rubbed her temples. Bree’s yelling had given her a headache. To make things worse, Bree was loudly singing, “go hoooooome” over and over. Fiona got up, changed out of her pyjamas into jeans and a white tee. And pulled her boots on. She has at the edge of the bed for a minute, her head in her hands as she took some deep breaths.

Fiona looked out the window, and noticed something bizarre. There was a girl, standing stiff as a board. And Bree went radio silent.

Know that girl?

When Bree didn’t answer, Fiona dropped down, hiding herself out of view. Holy shit! Do you actually know that girl?

Fiona was getting tired of this. If Bree wasn’t going to talk, someone else was going to. With reckless abandon, she threw open the door and stomped across the parking lot, not really caring that this girl was starring at her.

“Do you know Bree Tanner?” Fiona asked loudly, before she was even close to the girl.

Shut up! Shut up! You have no idea what you’re starting!

“Excuse me?” said the girl. She was impossibly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that wasn’t even fair for the rest of the world.

“My sister is Bree Tanner, and I think she knows you.”

“And how could you know that?”

“She told me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why? Because she’s dead?”

The girl shut up after that. Fiona was getting sick and tired of no one answering her questions. She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. If this girl was some drug dealer who got Bree killed, she was going to find out. And she wanted to find out today, right now.

“I don’t care what shit you’re in with the police, I just want to know what happened to her.”

Shut. Up! Or you’ll be dead like me.

The girl didn’t speak again. “Do you know the boy who listens?”

The next five seconds went faster than she could have possibly believed. She was suddenly in complete darkness. With all her belongings beside her. In a small, tight space. Where was she? What happened.

You’re in a TRUNK, dumbass, you just got kidnapped.

Well that, was bad news for Fiona. She wanted to scream but her mouth was covered. She wanted to fight but her hands were tied. How did that happen? How did she miss her own kidnapping?

The boy who could listen was here. Probably in the car. She could feel him in there.

“How could she know this much?” The beautiful girl asked. Fiona had no idea why, but she could hear them in her head. In her mind.

“Be quiet,” he said sharply.

Silence.

“She can hear us,” he said. “I can’t… I can’t look in her mind, I’m just hearing my words echoed back, louder than her thoughts. I think she’s burying them.”

Instead of burying them, she turned it around. Played it loud like shouting into a megaphone. Did you do this to Bree, too? And then she projected Bree’s image. She closed her eyes and tried to push every detail of her sister’s face into his mind. But, he edited it. Saw it the way he saw it, with bright red eyes. She felt the car swerve violently and she cracked her arm as she rolled onto it. It hurt so badly. She hoped it wasn’t broken but the way her fingers stopped responding to her made her worried.

“Knock it off!” he shouted.

“What?” His passenger asked. Don’t be rude, she thought.

Not you, Rosalie. Did the listening boy think that?

It was getting too confusing for her to keep all these voices straight. Rosalie was sitting with the boy who listens. She didn’t know his name. It made no sense, how could she hear them? She could only ever hear the dead, but this wasn’t the same. Bree sounded like she was in the middle of Fiona’s brain, but the other two… they sounded like Fiona was listening to them from a couple feet away. They were on the outside, and Bree was on the inside.

Please, Bree begged, I don’t know how to help you now.

It didn’t matter. Fiona passed out.

EMMETT CULLEN FORKS, DAY 1

Emmett hated when the family went into crisis mode. Jasper didn’t want to play chess because he was too busy fretting over Alice. Edward was having four panic attacks a day thinking that these “loose ends” were going to get Bella killed. And Carlisle and Esme were making Plan B arrangements in case they had to move, which is what everyone kept saying. No one was brave enough to say in case we have to kill her.

He heard Edward and Rosalie driving over the speed limit. Faster than ever, maybe. And he was excited to at least see some kind of action around here. Ever since he got to the house everyone has treated him like he’s stupid. Which he was not.

“Jasper!” Emmett called, beaming up the stairs. “They’re coming!”

“Yes, thank you Emmett. I hear them too.” Jasper spoke normally. Knowing Emmett could hear him through the walls.

Edward skidded his car to a quick stop in front of the house. Emmett happily joined Carlisle and Esme on the front lawn. They had all agreed to greet their guest and try to explain things as civilly as possible. Edward and Rosalie were supposed to go get her, invite her on a tour around town and then invite her for a dinner. Emmett was excited to make a friend, and also excited to watch his family force down a pizza. They all got so miserable after eating human food.

“Oh dear,” Esme said.

Emmett didn’t understand what the big deal was. Edward was out of the car, talking to Bella on the phone. The wedding was still a ways away, this was only supposed to be a minor inconvenience. Rosalie had run off into the woods before even greeting anyone. She hadn’t been coping well lately and hadn’t spent much time talking to anyone. Not that she was very friendly on a regular basis.

Only then did Emmett notice that the car door was open, but he could tell the heartbeat he heard and the blood he smelled was behind a wall of metal. She wasn’t in the backseat. They put her in the trunk?

Seemed a little rude.

The girl was bleeding back there too. Probably why Rosalie had to run. He couldn’t blame her, this girl smelled so good. She smelled like joy would taste.

“Pop the trunk!” Emmett said, laughing at Edward’s constipated expression.

“Emmett,” Carlisle whispered. His dad didn’t want to make a joke out of this. “Edward, please.”

Edward didn’t get off his phone call but clicked open the trunk with his keys. Emmett and Carlisle ran over to examine the damage.

As soon as Emmett saw her, he was smitten. Absolutely smitten. She was so pretty. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Short black hair, round little face with the pinkest lips in the world. And they looked like they would be so fun to kiss. Emmett was aware his brother wasn’t answering Bella, and instead was staring at Emmett, but he didn’t care though. He could see the relation to Bree in her features, but she was definitely older.

“Her arm is broken,” he said. “I’ll bring her to my office and set it, and cast it.”

Esme coughed for a moment, briefly distracted by the pooling of blood in the trunk of Edward’s Volvo. “Need anything from your office, dear?”

Emmett could see the appreciation on Carlisle’s face. Emmett wanted love like these two had. Or like Alice and Jasper. Or Edward and Bella. Or Rosalie and her reflection. Carlisle gave her a short list of things he would need to cast her arm, he was only missing a few things that he had used before they came back to town.

Carlisle reached to pick her up, but Emmett swatted his hands away quickly. Not harshly, as it wasn’t meant to hurt Carlisle. But Emmett had to do it himself. He had to be the one to carry this girl. It didn’t matter what Edward wanted. No one was going to hurt her. Edward doesn’t get to always have everything his way.

“What’s her name again?” Emmett asked, his voice more gentle than they’s ever heard it as he gingerly picked her up.

“Fiona.” Carlisle watched Emmett’s every move.

“Fiona,” Emmett repeated quietly.

He didn’t want her to wake up, so he walked slowly through the house. Setting her down on the space Carlisle made on the desk. The blood didn’t bother Emmett for even a moment. He never even hesitated. He just brushed the hair off her face, and waited while Carlisle worked.

“You seem to have taken to this girl.”

“I just think she’s pretty,” Emmett said. “It’s not her fault about her sister. If one of us went missing, would you not stop at nothing to get us back?”

“You’re right about that.” Carlisle looked pained. “May I ask you something, Emmett?”

“Yeah, of course.” Emmett didn’t look up from the girl’s face, and instead dragged his fingers softly around the edge of her face. Maybe she would be his Bella.

Was it creepy to be thinking this before she had a chance to wake up and meet him? He can’t just claim her, only hope that she was as fascinated by him.

Edward came through the door before Carlisle could ask about what Emmett was thinking. Edward was clearly mad. Esme slipped in, giving Carlisle the things he asked for, but opted to slip out and remove herself from the blood. Emmett understood, Fiona smelled as tempting as a fresh apple pie.

“Why is she untied?” he asked, grabbed the abandoned tie off the ground. It was all he’d had to tie her up with at the time.

“Do you think she needs to be?” Carlisle asks.

“Yes, I do.” Edward crossed his arms. Emmett was getting irritated by the vibe in the room. It was bad vibes in here.

“No, Edward.” Carlisle kept working. “We don’t hold hostages.”

“You’re right, we should just kill her now,” he said, cooly. As if it wasn’t a person they were talking about. Carlisle paused, but continued.

Emmett stood up tall, puffing his chest out and blocking Edward’s view of Fiona.

“You’re not touching her,” he said.

“Are you going to stop me, Emmett?” Edward asked. “You don’t even know her.”

“I know that I’m not a danger to her,” he said. “And you are. So get out while Carlisle works.”

“You’ve lost your…” Edward trailed off, and dropped to his knees clutching his head. Emmett stooped down on one knee, immediately changing from being worried about this girl to worried about his brother. “It’s her.”

Fiona was stirring awake, Carlisle finishing and clearing himself just in time for her to start squirming.

“Oh my god, her thoughts - there’s so many…” Edward tried to clear a path, try to sort between her thoughts and the thoughts of others’ that lived in her mind. “They’re not hers.”

“STOP!” she shouted, sitting perfectly up. “My sister doesn’t know the truth, she’s no danger to the secret.”

“Fiona?” Carlisle asked. Everyone was totally stunned. The girl looked lifeless behind her eyes, like this wasn’t her but a cheap replication of her. Other than sitting up, her limbs were still and lifeless, no sign of pain or distress.

“Bree.”

“Bree?” Esme said, slipping in the door. “Bree is it really you?” Esme fluttered over, putting her hands on the girls’ face. She was close to tears. “I’m so sorry.” Esme had been feeling guilty over Bree everyday since it had happened.

“Esme,” Carlisle said softly. He didn’t want to silence his wife, but he didn’t know how much time they had to talk to her.

“She doesn’t know what really happened. You still have time to lie. Don’t kill her.”

“Don’t worry little buddy,” Emmett said. “No one is going to hurt Fiona.”

“Remains to be seen,” Edward muttered.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Sounds like family meeting time,” Esme said. “I’ll go find the others.” She slipped outside the office.

“I don’t understand,” Fiona said, her eyes focused. Her voice settled. It was her now. There was life in her eyes, but also fear, and she touched the cast on her arm. Even her voice was beautiful. Is this how the dogs feel? Emmett had never felt stronger than right now. Emmett didn’t move towards her for fear of startling her, she was so small.

“She can’t stay up here alone,” Edward said.

“I trust Carlisle to speak for me,” Emmett said, looking at Fiona. She was frightened, but brave. Trying to establish her surroundings. “I’m not going to let you hurt her no matter what you say anyway.”

“You’re risking everything,” Edward said. “For someone you don’t even know.”

“Sound familiar?” Emmett asked, scoffing. “I always had your back, even when I didn’t get it.”

Edward flashed a look of guilt but shook it off. Emmett knew they couldn’t keep taking risks like this, but she wasn’t a risk, she was a person. As fast as he’s ever run, Emmett grabbed her things from the car, and dropped them right at her feet. She was shaking, clearly terrified.

“How did you do that?”

“Your phone is in there, I checked.” Emmett heard his family go silent. The conversation was a waste of time anyway, it was just Carlisle trying to convince Edward that there were more options than murder. “I won’t stop you from calling 911. We are the Cullens, you’re in Forks. I’ll even give you the number for Chief-”

“Emmett!” Rosalie yelled. But Emmett got to the door first. Holding it shut from Rosalie’s destructive fists. It cracked and splintered under her heavy hits. “If we have to start over you are so dead.”

FIONA TANNER FORKS, DAY 1

Fiona was crying now. Confused by all the thoughts in her head. She could hear the whole family. Pieces of the conversation downstairs. She could hear the listener getting mad. He didn’t like his own thoughts being repeated back to him but she couldn’t help that. There was also the typical voices that she usually had buried, but coming out of whatever happened to her allowed them to flood in. People screaming in pain, or begging for help, or just taunting her for the fun of it. What did the boy who listens make of her?

“I’m not calling the police,” she whispered. “I just want to know what happened to Bree.”

Rosalie stopped busting the door at Carlisle’s request. But each of her exaggerated stomps could be heard as she left the house. She turned on music in the garage and started fussing with her cars. Emmett just looked at her, welcoming her to make the first move.

“You’re Emmett?”

“Yes.” For his huge stature, he seemed so kind and timid to her. She could hear him thinking about her. And it was so, so flattering.

“Are you dead?”

“Yes.”

“Then how are you alive?”

“I don’t know if I should answer that right now,” he said. “Let’s skip for now.”

“Was Bree dead?”

“I thought you already knew she was dead.” Emmett looked down. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“I meant… uhm… when you met her, for the first time, was she already dead?”

“Yes.”

“Explains why I can hear you twice.” She needed a minute to process all of this. How was she supposed to process all of this?

“Can you hear me think?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said, lowering his head. “That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Fiona smiled, and chuckled. Which made Emmett smile and chuckle. It was quiet in the room for a minute. Fiona tried to sort out her thoughts and Emmett watched her.

“I really don’t want to cause any trouble for your family,” she said. “Can you just tell me what happened to my sister?”

“No one here hurt her,” Emmett said. “We were trying to save her but there are some people who just… get their way.”

“Why did they want to hurt her?”

“Can I skip?” he asked.

She nodded lightly. His vague answers were disappointing but he seemed genuine, and it was probably a “the less you know the better” kind of deal around here. Maybe she should’ve listened to Bree.

You think? Bree thought. She sounded weak after taking control of of Fiona.

“Am I going to die, Emmett?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“No, I’ve got you now. You’ll be safe with me.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

#twilight #imagine #imagines #emmett cullen #emmett cullen imagines #emmett cullen imagine #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #twilight fic #emmett cullen fic

[writertothemaximum]

Rinne Amagi x Reader

Summary: You mostly just expected to pick your friend up from a club, the last thing you thought was to get hit on by some wasted guy. Although, he certainly looked familiar...

Word Count: 1.9k

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045316/chapters/59423728

Warnings are under the cut for containing nsfw/18+ content

Warnings: nsfw/smut (18+), sex under the influence of drugs, bisexual Rinne, sub!Rinne, slut!Rinne, fem!reader, facesitting, (mild) choking, anal fingering, non-sexual pissing, excessive amounts of cursing

The first thing that hit you when you entered the club was how dark it was. How through all the flashing lights, you couldn’t see a thing. How the wall of heavy bass rang noiselessly back and forth into your head, bouncing to the beat of its own drum. The shaking wall of people undulating like a wave, bouncing endlessly like the ocean.

It was 11:30 already and your friend called you, waking you up, to drive her home. At least it wasn’t 3:00 a.m. like last time. This is why you told her to stop going to raves all the time. It was rotting her brain.

You had waited outside for twenty minutes already, but a part of you felt overwhelmed by everything in front of you. How everything was so dark until the lights flashed, how everything was so quiet because you couldn’t hear anything but bass, drums, and bass. There was an electrifying energy to it all and you felt it sap away at you like a leech.

Sticking your hands out to feel around you, you noticed that there were clear paths around the main crowd. Maybe if you could go around you might have a chance at finding her. You hoped she wasn’t off puking in a bathroom stall. Well, it might not be so bad, at least that way it wouldn’t be in your car.

There was a grey-haired boy shouting on stage. He had a very long tongue. He looked a lot like the dude from that idol group, Crazy B. You wondered if people like that really went to clubs like this. You wondered if a part of it was outing all the stress they went through, how difficult it would be to explain where they went, explain where the pictures came from. Although, you supposed, people like that might just not care.

You felt a hand against your shoulder and you turned around.

A six-foot-tall black shadow loomed over you.

“God, your skin is so soft.”

Was he talking to you? It looked like he was shouting, but you couldn’t really tell. You couldn’t really hear anything, it was so impersonal.

The man started to attach his body to you, getting very close into your personal space. A part of you was worried that he was going to grind against you, although there was a lot worse and he didn’t seem to be particularly harmful, if not a little touchy. His skin was absolutely burning, frying as it touched your skin. Did he have a fever?

You pulled away, worried that there was something wrong with him, but he just got closer again.

The lights flashed on him.

Redhead, huh.

“Look, buddy, I got to find my friend, could you get off me,” you shouted, worried that trying to talk to him would make your throat scratchy.

The bass dropped and he leaned down in to get close to you.

“I think I’m in love,” he said, screaming into the void. “You know I’m usually not into pretty dudes but fuck, you got such a nasty expression. I’d let you ram me.”

What the fuck was he going on about? Was he shitfaced? He didn’t smell like alcohol. Normally your instincts would have you get the fuck away from someone like this, but he seemed cute and you were a little bit pent up. Anyways, with him all trashed like that, it would be difficult for him to fight back. Sighing, realizing that this was now your problem, you dragged him into the room closest to your right.

Turns out it was the bathroom.

A sense of relief hit you as soon as you realized how much better it felt to be under constant light and less noise. The music still pumping blood into your head, you smashed him into the wall, pinning him down.

You finally got a good chance to look at his face. There were beads of sweat pouring down his headband.

This was Rinne Amagi, there was no doubt about it. Clinging to you. High off his ass.

It was a little difficult to not want to take advantage of this situation.

“What the fuck are you on?” you asked, dryly.

“Mo~lly~” he said, singing out each syllable, completely ignoring the music blasting in the distance.

Ah, well that explained it. You hoped your friend chose a clean strain this time.

You grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into one of the stalls, chucking him onto the ground, just short of the toilet seat. You wondered how gross that ground was, you wondered how many people vomited on there, how many people shot up in here. You hated it here, your friend would have to hire a ride next time.

Rinne kneeled, putting his hands around your hips and mouthing at your groin. It was a little weird of a feeling but it felt nice to see him groveling at you. You’d never have a guy do anything like that before.

He reached around and unzipped your jeans, lips floating aimlessly at your crotch. Tongue out, lapping through the air, waiting for something. Getting frustrated, he slammed his head against your hips.

“Hah? Where’s your cock?”

“I’m a chick.”

Rinne blinked incredibly slowly, letting all the blood rush back into his head. Frustrated and high on energy, his hand shot up and ruffled through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

“Aw shit, I kinda wanted to get fucked tonight.” He took a deep breath. “I kinda thought you were pretty for a dude. Fuck, guess I’m straight now. Shit.”

He kept mumbling, despite never really seemingly being angry at you, seemingly off in his own world.

Sighing, you pulled down your pants and underwear, grabbed his head, and sat on his face.

As Rinne was too surprised to respond, you decided to grind down on his lips. At least it felt good against your clit. He was supporting your body weight, at least. He wasn’t pushing you off.

“Come on asshole, didn’t you say you wanted to suck me off?”

That’s when you felt the tongue and everything started feeling better. He started by lapping up your slit, clearly shit at figuring out where to put his tongue, desperate to put it somewhere. Putting one shoe against the toilet rim, you straddled his face, adjusting so that he would have better access to your clit.

Not getting enough friction, you grabbed the back of his head and pushed it against you, his whole face smothered by your crotch. You felt his breath heave, struggling for air. You slammed your hips into his mouth, cutting off any circulation, cutting off any hope of him being able to breathe.

It felt so good to have him choke against you. That look in his eyes. Piercing blue, piercing through you like he was deepthroating you, struggling, in pain. It felt like minutes that you had him there, sucking against you endlessly, gagging, choking.

You felt it all rise at once and you came in his mouth.

You grabbed his hair and pulled him off of you, his face smeared with thick fluid and a wide grin.

“Damn! That wasn’t so bad!” Rinne shouted, laughing, slapping his leg. “Where do I find chicks like you?”

He was still kneeling on the ground. He was really hard. A part of you wondered if it was a blow-and-go sort of deal or if Rinne expected more. Well, it wouldn’t be too difficult to take care of him when he was like this.

“Up your ass,” you said, sarcastically. “Now get on the seat and turn around.”

He grabbed your hand, his still burning, blistering with heat. He licked it, your jizz still smeared across his face.

“How is your skin so tingly? It’s so cold, like an ice-cube. I want to keep touching you…”

You grabbed his shoulders and twisted him around, having him lean over the metal flusher. It wasn’t your first time by any means, but it was certainly your first with someone this trashed. You wondered if he’d even be able to keep his dick up or if the drugs even affected that. You fumbled with the jacket around his waist, his belt, and his zipper before finally pulling his pants down. You figured that you weren’t the first person to be frustrated at how much shit he had on.

It was quite the sight when you got a good look at his ass. It was definitely as toned as you had expected, but a little fattier than it looked on the outside. You put your hand around it and gave it a squeeze, not having much give. He had a nice ass. It made sense why it was so easy for him to slut around like this.

“You got lube?”

“Jacket pocket,” he responded, barely hesitating.

Of course he had lube in his jacket pocket. You fished it out, avoiding the bags of pills. The bottle was almost empty, too. Lube crusted onto the side, it looked like he never bothered to even close the lid. Squeezing hard, some spat out onto your hand.

He seemed relaxed enough, so you started with two fingers.

“Haaanghn~”

The sound he made was rather lovely.

“God, your dick feels so good~”

They were your fingers. You were a chick.

His insides were so loose. Clearly, he was comfortable enough to do something like this, clearly, he could have taken more if you were more prepared. He squeezed around you, as if he was caressing a dick, making sure that you felt good, making sure that his ass got as much friction as he possibly could around you. Everything felt like it was on fire, burning, melting, scorched around your fingers, overheating, overwhelmed by warm emotions.

When you pulled your fingers out a bit, you could hear him whine.

You slapped his ass, hard, and he half about choked up a lung. It was a good sound. He was making a lot of good sounds. A lot better than the washed away bass in the distance. It almost didn’t bother you anymore. If anything, it was a good beat to move your fingers in and out at.

You reached around to grab his dick, burning just like how the rest of his body was. How out of it was. How distracted he was getting. He was starting to bang his head to the music. You were worried he was going to smash it against the metal flushing valve.

Like a noodle in boiling water, you felt him start to go limp in your hand. Rinne still moaned, his ass still clenching around you. He groaned and warm liquid traced down your hand. You didn’t even wait till the smell hit you to shove him off.

His whole body slumped over the toilet, his hips pointed straight down at dinghy tap water. You could hear the stream of liquid pour out as he pissed himself.

You pinched your nose so you didn’t have to smell it.

“Yeah, that’s it, I think you’re done for tonight.”

“Aw, fuck,” he groaned out, his voice as sloppy as his body.

Reaching over for your bag, you took out a sticky note and wrote your number on it, letting it float down and land peacefully on his back. Sighing, you slammed the stall door behind you, groaning about the fact that you still had to find your friend.

#ensemble stars #enstars #Rinne amagi x reader #enstars x reader #rinne amagi #w2tmfics #dom!reader

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Partners {7}*

OA Zidan/Zeeko Zaki x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Angst, Drama, Action, Multiple POV changes, Talk and Mild depiction of Sex Trafficking, Racism Implied, Possibly Triggering Content, Character Drugging, Violence, Groping, Implied Blood, Plot, Mild NSFW, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 9k

Summary: You’re a damn good FBI agent in your own right. It is definitely partly to do with how well you’ve been trained and partly to do with you not letting anything or anyone distract you. You have a six-year plan that you’re fast-tracking for four. After being transferred from your office in Tampa, you’ve been sent to New York, which you’ve labeled the “big leagues.” Your first day there, after being introduced to your new partner OA Zidan you realized you’ve moved out of the frying pan right into the pot of distraction. A year later and your growing attraction for your partner still hasn’t been snuffed out.

Note: This is a first for me writing about a TV show and interjecting into it. Let’s see how this goes. I hope you guys enjoy this. As always, thank you for reading.

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

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1  |  2   |  3  |  4  |  5 | 6 |

~~~~~~~~~~~

The slinkiness of the dress was not missed by you. Your fingers noticed it once you pulled it from the shopping bag. It was a pretty dress. You checked yourself in the mirror of the bathroom again, turning in every direction so you could see how you looked in a dress you probably would have chosen for yourself in Miami. The black sequins looked good against your skin, and the accent gold chains around your neck that draped down your body between your breasts made them look even more inviting than usual. You wondered who’d picked this dress. While you looked good, if you had to run, it would probably be a matter of time before you had a nip slip or a full-on boob pop out.

You took a deep breath, released it, and leaned closer to the mirror to peer deeper into your eyes. Your nerves were beginning to get the better of you.

 “You can do this, Y/N. You’ve done this before. It’s not a big deal. You know the drill.  You. Got. This!”

 Taking a final breath, you stepped back, rearranged the neck of the dress, checked your make up then nodded to yourself, pleased at the final product. As you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall of the JOC, you tried to mentally psych yourself up. It had been a year since you’d done any undercover work and the nerves never really went away. Once you stepped into the common area where all your coworkers centered, one by one, the eyes drifted to you.

 From the right, you heard a whistle. When you turned, it was Scola.

 “Agent Y/L/N.”

 You rolled your eyes then scoffed.

 “Watch it, Scola.”

 He lifted his hands in defeat as you walked up to Jubal, Kristen, OA, and Isobel. OA’s eyes slowly raked along your body, taking in every detail.

 “This is as good as it’s gonna get,” you joked.

 “You look incredible,” Isobel complimented.

 “Eh, it’s just a dress. By the way, who picked this out?”

 “That would be Kristen’s handiwork,” Jubal said with a smile as he bumped his shoulder into Kristen’s. You picked up on the way she smiled back at him before she focused on you.

 “I see I picked right. I knew you had what was needed to carry it.”

 “All right, all right,” you pushed out, trying to change the subject. “Are we ready to move?”

 “Yes. We’re meeting our informant at a pickup spot near the heights. Let’s move people,” Jubal drilled.

 Everyone went into motion, preparing to leave. The elevator ride was chatter filled as Jubal, Kristen, and Isobel listed things off from the file you had to remember. While your brain was functioning and focused on them, your body was also functioning and focused on OA, who was beside you with his hands clutched one over the other in front of him while he stared at the dial. Though he wasn’t looking at you, your body could feel the energy coming off of his body, and it was responding.

Once you piled into the van, you situated as Lim began explaining the intricacies of the few gadgets you wore, including mics in your diamond earrings, surveillance cameras embedded into the golden chains of the dress, and two chip trackers inside the ring, and an emergency explosive. You were impressed, and you let him know it. Lim was adorable. He always looked surprised to hear a compliment on how well he did his job or that someone noticed. You always made it a point to tell Lim how good of a job he was doing. You believed it was necessary to praise people when they deserved it, especially if you saw it.

 You tried to retain the information you read in the files, along with the faces you saw. You knew the key to undercover work was memorizing as much as you could. Your success in Miami was because you were good with retaining information, thinking quickly on your feet, and solving things with small details that others would not have thought of. Your nerves were beginning to pick up, and you knew it was because while you’d been in a similar undercover situation before, this was a different monster. Whereas the sex club was a dangerous environment, it was a closed environment. With this operation, many variables would be left up to chance, and that were ever-changing. That meant more risk.

 You tried not to look at OA. You didn’t want to give him any indication that you knew he was right and that this was too dangerous. Your father’s words echoed in your head.

 “In this world, because of the color of your skin and your sex, you have to be twice as good and work twice as hard to get to where others would easily get to. You have to never show weakness. They will look for it because you’re a woman.”

 Clenching your jaw, you straightened your posture and did your best to clear your mind. This assignment wouldn’t break you, thought to yourself over and over.

 Fifteen minutes later, the van pulled up at the meet location that Jubal’s informant would come to get you to add to the shipment of women. After Lim checked that you were good with how the gadgets worked and were comfortable operating them, he gave you a comforting pat on the shoulder, a gentle squeeze, and a soft smile that spoke of his confidence in you. As he made a move to get out of the van, he stopped and came back to you.

 “Can I say something I’ve always wanted to tell you?”

 You nodded.

 “Since you came to join us here, I’ve admired you. I think you’re smart, smarter than a lot of people I’ve worked with. You’ve impressed me more times than I can count, and I’m not in the least worried about you knocking this out of the park. Remember how badass you are.” He added a wink that made you smile.

 “Thank you, Ian.”

 “Anytime, Y/N. You’re—you’re great—you’ll be great.”

 With that, he walked out and closed the doors behind him, leaving you and OA. You couldn’t help but smile. He was sweet.

“I think Ian’s got a crush,” OA uttered slightly under his breath.

 “Oh, stop it.”

 He approached you with his arms held out to you. Once he was close enough, his hands latched onto your waist.

 “Should I be worried?”

 You snorted then rose to meet his eyes. “You tell me. Should you?”

 OA studied you for a few moments before he answered.

 “I don’t know. Maybe I should.”

 The warmth from his hands was working to calm some of your nerves. You sighed out, placed your hands on his forearms, and then traced patterns into his exposed skin.

 “Don’t be jealous.”

 “Ya know something; I didn’t think I was a jealous man—before now,” he replied.

 You stared at each other, neither of you speaking. After several long moments, you looked down. OA tipped your chin up, so you looked at him.

 “I feel I have to say something right now,” OA began.

 You quirked your eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

 “You look—incredibly gorgeous.”

 Slowly your lips spread into a wide smile that got wider and wider.

 “I can’t believe the first time I see you like this is for a sting operation rather than our first date.”

 The butterflies began fluttering in your gut, making your knees go weak. You slouched back on the cold table that lined the side of the van. OA’s hands slid down to your hips and squeezed. The action did nothing for the fluttering in your belly, but it helped to stabilize you.

 “Well—maybe you’ll actually get that first date if you get the balls to finally ask for it,” you teased.

 OA’s smile began small until you were staring at his perfect teeth. With no hesitation, he lowered his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that he took control of. His lips trailed down your jaw and back to your ear where be nibbled and licked along its shell. With every lick, the butterflies in your gut fluttered more rapidly, and with every nibble, your sex throbbed. You couldn’t believe you were getting turned on at a time like this.

 “Are you okay?”

 His whisper against your ear made you sigh. It was the question you were dreading. Mustering as much gusto as you could, you put on a tough exterior.

 “I’m fine. As I said, it’s no big deal and nothing I haven’t done before.”

 The more you spoke, the less you believed your own words. When you looked at OA, he didn’t even look to believe your words.

 “You don’t have to play tough with me. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying and when something isn’t as it seems.”

 OA moved his hands from their place on your hips to buckle behind you at the small of your back. His long fingers splayed across your bare skin, making any cold shell you were trying to wear melt away. You sighed again.

 “Okay, I am nervous, but it’s jitters. Everyone gets em’.”

 OA kissed your forehead and kept his lips there for a few seconds. “I know you can do this. It’s never been a question of if you could. It was always, should you? I know you’ve got this because you are the most incredible agent that I’ve known in a long time. You’re smart, quick on your feet, charismatic, and don’t even get me started on what an amazing profiler you are. Plus, your right hook and roundhouse is a thing of beauty.”

 You giggled, then lowered your head to his collar. Even in heels, he was still slightly taller than you. His chuckle vibrated against your forehead, and the tension in the van automatically decreased. When your laughs subsided, you bit your bottom lip and thought about your next words carefully.

 “If this goes south,” you began before OA pulled you back so he could look at you.

 “It won’t.”

 “If it does,” you tried again.

 OA cupped your jaw and slid his thumb along your lips until it was in the center, silencing you.

 “It won’t. You got this, and I have your back. We all do.”

 For some reason, that touched you more now than it ever had before. He always had your back, and so did the team. That was what a team was. You tried to keep your emotions in check, but the longer you saw the compassion in his eyes that felt more and more like something more intimate than compassion, the more your emotions went haywire. You crushed your body to his for a hug. Resting your cheek against his chest, you listened to the drum of his heart, hoping it would soothe you as it had less than twenty-four hours ago.

 “Let me get this out, Omar,” you whispered, feeling your heart race.

 “If things go south, I want you to know I have loved every single minute that I’ve been your partner. Thank you for making me a better agent, and thank you for helping me see sometimes following your heart can lead to great things,” you said, somehow able the keep your voice from shaking.

 Before you could slow your racing heart, OA pulled you back again and crashed his lips to yours, making it race even more. You happen to open your eyes at the same moment he did, and while your lips danced together, your eyes spoke words that had been left unspoken in your heart.

 It took just seconds for OA’s hands to drop to your hips again and yours to begin to quickly fight with the belt he wore. As OA squeezed your hips and moaned against your lips, you managed to free him of his belt and undo the buttons of his pants. When OA’s hands slipped to your backside, he gripped it with such a roughness you knew his need and how closely it mirrored yours. His hands quickly pulled at the fabric of the dress, inching it up over your hips to reveal your thonged ass to the cold surface of the table.

 Finally free of his pants, he turned you, so you now faced the wall of the van. You bent forward, bracing your hands on the table as OA freed his member. When you felt him rub himself against your slit, you shuddered and anxiously anticipated the feel of his intrusion. As he slowly slid into you, connecting your bodies inch by inch, one hand gripped your hip, and the other covered your mouth in time to muffle the deep moan you let out.

 OA sucked in a shuddered breath, then groaned. Once he was buried to the hilt, he circled his hips, making goosebumps erupt all over your skin. OA lowered his lips to your shoulder, bit down on your flesh then began thrusting in and out of you. While his movements were slow, the force with which he rocked into you was intense. Within seconds he’d sped his movements and the force that he flicked his hips. With every move forward, it was powerful enough to have your entire body jerk from it. In no time, you’d begun rocking along with him. When he retreaded, you did too, only to slam back onto him, taking all of him.

 You could tell your movements were driving OA crazy because of the tightness of his grip on your body. He hovered over your back and went to your ear.

 “Habibi,” he whispered. “Aikhtar,” he groaned. “Eshq,” he panted.

 It took those three words to bring you to the horizon of your orgasm, and he must have known it because he sped up, slamming into you, filling you completely. It only took a few thrust and the cup of his large hand against your sex for you to whimper. As his fingers strummed your pearl, heightening your arousal making you more desperate for your release. It wasn’t long before OA was marking you as his from the inside out. 

Slowly both of you came down from your euphoric cloud. Your breathing evened out, the tremble of your body slowed, but your heart still pounded, and you knew it was just for him. Within a few minutes, OA had you dressed and presentable again, and when he was the self-controlled and professional Agent Zidan again, he pulled you against him.

 “I’m going to do everything and anything needed to make sure we get to have that date,” he said while gazing into your eyes with such intensity you knew he meant the words he spoke. “Anything,” he repeated for emphasis.

 Before you could speak, there was a knock on the van, signaling that the informant had arrived and it was showtime. OA pressed his forehead to yours for a few seconds, then kissed your nose before he backed off. You turned to the table, looking into the purse you had, and reapplied your lipstick. When you were sure you were good, you and OA hopped out of the van to join the team with them none the wiser.

 “I really wish we could put a wire on you, but I think you know what we can’t,” Isobel said.

 “I get it. I’ll probably go through a strip-search,” you filled in. Once you said it, you heard OA grumble.

 “We have the jewelry surveillance, so you’re not alone in there. We can’t talk to you, but we can hear and see what you do,” Jubal assured.

 You nodded as you went over the file one last time. Over your quiet surroundings, you all heard the signal. You gave them a nod being careful not to look at OA before you walked away from them. You didn’t think you could handle that. After taking a few steps, though, you looked back at him. He stood there with his arms crossed across his broad chest with the deepest scowl on his face that accompanied his tightly clenched jaw. Deciding to test the tech, you said the one thing you knew you could that only he would get.

 “My back, your back, we got that.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~

 -OA-

He hated this more than he hated the stares he got his first few weeks at Quantico. Those weeks were a different hell. It was a hell that tested everything he knew about himself and how who he was would connect to his work—if it could connect. Because of his culture and heritage, he got a lot of flack. He’d had to work twice as hard to prove himself even though he’d done two tours in Iraq and had earned his dues and proven himself as an asset. This hell, though, it gripped his heart tighter than anything else. He wondered if it was because what he had to lose was just way in life. If he failed, he would have to live with the shame. Now, if this failed, he’d have to live with much more. Regret. Heartbreak. They were two things he didn’t want any part of. It was your fault.

 He’d fallen in love with his partner. It was the first rule in the book. The first rule that was drilled in his head in every line he went into. In the Rangers, it was don’t get involved with your peers or form any personal or intimate connections with informants or those in the field. In the DEA, it was, go by the book and don’t get involved with anyone on any level. He’d learned how challenging and intricate undercover work was there. Here he was after all these years and all his life experiences throwing the book away, setting ablaze first, though.

 He listened to the informant drill you on everything you needed to know as he walked you to the truck you’d be in. In the back of the van with Isobel, Kristen, Jubal, and the rest of the team, he felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, but he couldn’t show any of it. He knew if he showed too much concern, it would raise curiosity about your relationship's true nature. He had to remain calm and neutral enough for a partner and not venture into the realm of the concerned lover.

 You were so good that as the truck drove with you in the back, you sang a song in French. It wasn’t just any song, though. You fed them intel of everything that was around you, how many other girls were in the back, their descriptions, scents, and any other piece of information that would help with the case. Everyone around him looked pleased, and he knew Isobel was relieved. You were showing in less than an hour why you were the right person for the job.

 “She’s got this,” Jubal said aloud while nodding his head and snapping the rubber band against his wrist, a nervous tick he’d noticed when Kristen was injured in the hospital.

 At the thought of Kirsten, he looked across to her. she was sitting with Ian, and the two were talking closely, most likely about the case, but it made him look back to Jubal for his reaction. The look on Jubal’s face didn’t give much away, but being a good profiler, he picked up on a few things. Jubal didn’t look to like how close they were. He wondered then if you and he weren’t the only ones who were fraternizing.

 The puzzle gave him something to occupy his mind instead of him worrying and thinking of worst case scenarios, and he was glad for it. After almost forty minutes, your reporting notified that the truck had stopped and everyone was being led out.

 “Here we go, people,” Isobel notified.

 The tension in the van returned tenfold as everyone’s attention went to the screens. He tagged the route the truck had taken thanks to the tracking devices you wore and calculated the quickest route to you in case things went south. He watched the feed you expertly gave. You made sure to turn in every possible direction so you could give them a quick lay of the land. Every angle Ian and Kirsten tagged, they let out an audible “yes.” You were making everyone’s job easier.

 You were led into a large house. The interior was decorated richly. The techs worked to make connections with everything in the feed, artwork, photos, and even furniture. Any of it could lead to a break. You stopped for a second, then bent forward, bringing a clear photo of four men into the frame.

 “Get that picture scrubbed. I want to know everything about all of them, even their childhood pet’s name. Come on, people. Let’s get Y/N out of there in under twenty-four hours,” Jubal drilled.

 The van came alive with chatter and activity, and he focused more intently on the feed. With his fingers steepled underneath his bearded chin, he tried to stay present.

 “File in here, ladies. You know the drill. Inspection.”

 He clenched his jaw, hating what that sounded like. He continued watching the feed. He took in the details of the room and guessed they were holding the women in a basement. The women around the room were all dressed in their best. He’d clocked bruises on some and small injuries on others. Having worked an undercover case like this one, he knew the ones with small injuries were probably the older ones that had been acquired over a year ago while the ones with bruises were newer. In situations like these, the older ones, because of their wear and tear, were abused more. They were usually kept on reserve for those with particular tastes. They were deemed the expendable ones.

 When the men approached you, they brought you into another room where two men were waiting. Once they laid eyes on you, they whistled and made catcalls at you.

 “Wow. We have an exotic one.”

 “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

 “Dulce,” you replied.

 “Ah, you were brought in with Snake, part of the special shipment from Florida. He said very good things about the women in that shipment.”

 The man approached you and slowly walked around you before he stopped in front again.

 “Where you from, honey?”

 “I can be from anywhere you like.”

 “she’s good,” Isobel voiced. “She knows giving men like that control means appeasement.”

 “So you’re a people pleaser, huh.”

 “Absolutely sugar. I please people,” you replied.

 The men laughed together before exchanging glances.

 “Well, Dulce, we gotta search you, so be a good girl as I—sample the goods.”

 He watched the man approach you. He didn’t know if he could stomach watching, but he didn’t look away.

 “Ah, very nice.” He sounded like the sleaziest of perverts, and his anger flared.

 The air in the vibe went from tense to uncomfortable. They all knew what was happening. He was glad he couldn’t see your face. As soon as he thought it, you were moved, and you now stood in front of a mirror, and your reflection was now what he saw. The man in a burgundy button-down and black slacks was before you—on you. He walked behind you then brought his hands around to cup your breasts.

 “Son of a--.”

 Clenching his jaw, he continued watching. The sleazeball's hands slid down your abdomen.

 “Everyone look away,” Isobel ordered.

 He did not. When he saw the asshole’s hand creep to your crotch, he was ready to end this whole thing. The look on your face was a detached one. You didn’t look as if it phased you.

 “Hey! What’re you doing? She’s for the boss. No one is to touch her.”

 The informant came into the frame just in time before the perv groped you any further.

 “I’m sure Boss would want us to make sure she’s clean.”

 “You’re just trying to get your rocks off. You know how he feels about the first touch. Should I tell him that you dirtied his entertainment for the night?”

 The two men faced off, but the informant didn’t back down.

 “You’re lucky you’re so high up, Snake.”

 “Shut the fuck up. Know your place. You, out.”

 You walked to the door with Snake behind you. While everyone else in the room released a relieved sigh, he didn’t. This was but a tiny victory. There would be many more tests and close calls before the night was done.

 “I’ll get you to the bathroom upstairs. It is next door to the office. You have three minutes. Use them wisely. I’ll be back to bring you to them.”

 A little while later, you walked into the bathroom and released a breath. He could tell you forgot about the camera on you as you allowed your nerves to show—just a little. He wished he could be there to help in any way you’d let him, but he wasn’t. He even wished you could hear him. After a fifteen or twenty second reprieve, you were sneaking out the bathroom door to the office next door. Once inside, you began rummaging through cabinets, drawers, folders, and even the trash, giving them a glance at anything you came across. You moved so quickly that each analyst worked on each piece of data your lens came across.

 “I think I found something,” you said, opening a folder with the letters “NDB” tapped across its cover. You flipped through the pages giving them two or three seconds each page to capture it in a screenshot.

 “Yes, Y/N, that’s it,” Jubal cheered on.

 “That has to be a record with getting in,” Isobel said more to herself than anyone else.

 “It looks like these are future plans. I have names, dates, locations, pictures even.”

 “That’s all we need, right,” Kristen inquired.

 “I mean,” Jubal began.

 “No. while this is good, we need a clear shot of them all in the room and to hear talk about any attack as well as get them in some sort of incriminating situation. With that, we got 'em dead to rights,” Isobel clarified.

 “Fuck!”

 It was an outburst he hadn’t expected. He’d been trying to hold it together, but the thought of you being there any longer really was not sitting right with him. the eyes in the van trailed to him. No doubt they were shocked to see him lose his cool. No one said anything about it, though. He watched as you snuck out of the office after putting everything back to make it in the bathroom. Once the bathroom door clicked shut, Snake was there to retrieve you.

 “Change of plans. You girls are meant to be eye candy. Sort of like a look but don’t touch event. He likes to use this as his foreplay. Keep a cool head, and remember you’re not trying this on for the day. You live this. Act accordingly.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 -Y/N-

Snake led you into another part of the house that was filled with girls and about ten men that were being entertained by the chosen girls. You looked around, clocking your exits and the possible escape routes first, then took inventory of the girls and finally the men. Snake left your side but not before giving you a stern look as if to remind you that your life was not the only one at stake here. You didn’t need a reminder.

 Your encounter in the room was a quick reintroduction that woke your ass up to the real dangers that you’d now found yourself in. Back in Miami, you’d found yourself in a similar situation, and the only way you were able to get through it was to detach from it. You mentally put yourself in the frame of mind of a different person and became them. It made it easier. You knew it was what you would have to do now.

 “Dulce, Dulce, Dulce, Dulce,” you whispered to yourself before you took a deep breath and slowly released it. When you did, you decided to fake it until you had it. Your first move was to take a lap around the room. You still had to locate the SVU agent on no intel. The department was reluctant to share any information for fear of a leak because of the case's sensitive nature and how long their agent had been undercover. So you were running on nothing but the assurance that if possible, they would make contact.

 One lap turned to two, but before you could do a third, one of the men approached you, cornering you.

 “Why hello. I haven’t seen you before.”

 You pasted on a sugary sweet smile and leaned against the wall. “Oh, no? I’m new.”

 The man smiled, giving you a chill.

 “I like new. I like to break in the new thoroughbreds.”

 He grabbed your wrist and began dragging you through the room. His grip was tight, but you didn’t make a sound. You could see he was dragging you toward a couch. From the corner of your eye, you saw one of the girls watching you. Her long brunette hair framed her face, and her plum-colored lipstick gave her a youthful glow. Before you could take in any more details, the man dropped onto the couch and released your wrist.

 “Dance.”

 You hesitated, caught off guard by his actions and the command.

 “All right, darlin, no need to get rough.”

 You swayed from side to side in front of him in slow movements using the time to formulate a plan. Slowly you turned your back to him as you began winding your waist. It was then you noticed a dangerous looking man across the room also watching your every move. Snake approached him, whispered, and nodded in your direction. Bingo, you thought. Adding to the show you were putting on, you trailed your hands along your body and beginning at the outer parts of your thighs, up along your hips. When you reached your stomach, you brought them up to cup your breasts, all the while staring at the man across the room. Turning from him and back to the younger gentleman on the couch, you smiled, bit your bottom lip, and winked.

 “You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?”

 You nodded.

 “Do you know what naughty girls get?”

 You shook your head.

 “This.”

 The man gripped his appendage and shook it for emphasis.

 “Come get this cock, slut.”

  As he lunged for you, you saw Snake approach. He whispered to the man before he made contact, and the look on his face went from lust riddled to fearful. He straightened his clothes, then walked away.

 “he says get a glass of champagne and sit.”

 You took the glass of champagne that Snake offered you and sat on the now empty couch. You knew that you had him on the hook. You’d expected it to be more work than that. For the next few hours, on the couch was where you remained. You watched every immoral thing the men did to the women and sat through it all. The first hour was difficult because every injustice you saw you wanted to remedy, but by hour two and three, you’d found a way to tune it out.

 A few hours later, you were brought over to the boss. You recognized him from the pictures in the files. His eyes roamed your body, taking in every detail. It was a full two minutes before he spoke.

 “You name.”

 “Dulce.”

 He chuckled. “Ha, the Spanish word for sweet. Are you sweet?”

 “That’s for you to find out, I guess.”

 No words followed. The way he looked at you made your skin crawl. It was the look of a true psychopath. He was the worst kind, though, a hypocritical one, one that sought to subjugate that which he hated. He preached up and down how whites were the superior race, and any others were inferior and seen as dirty, but here he was eying you like he planned to give you a thorough cavity search knowing damn well your skin was not white.

 You took in the details and learned his ticks. From the way his jaw flinched every few minutes to the way he held on to the arm of the chair, you knew he was trying to hold tightly to something inside of him. Men like this often had a secret side to them.

 “Sit.”

 Doing as you were told, you sat. He continued his conversation. Again the girl with brunette hair caught your eye. She was watching every move you made, and that fact alone told you she was the SVU agent. It was a hunch, an unproven one. The mention of an attack had your attention going back to the man seated beside you. His hand came out to clasp your upper thigh. His fingers between your crossed legs holding on as if he owned you. Men like him always thought people were property to own, use, then trade.

 “Just make sure everything goes off without a hitch. We’ve worked too long for his, and too many lives have been lost for it all to be for naught.”

 “Don’t worry. As we speak here, they are setting up the event location. By this time tomorrow, we’ll have our victory. That is why we’re here tonight—to celebrate.”

 You hoped those in the van got that.

 “Maybe it’s time to take your turn,” one of the men suggested.

 The Boss’s eyes landed on you before he brought them to his hand on your thigh. “Soon. You go sit there,” he ordered.

 You stood and walked over to the brunette who’d been watching you for the last few hours and sat beside her. You didn’t want to give yourself away, so you said nothing. In undercover work, you never knew who had flipped. Pretending to be someone else twenty-four-seven took its toll, and many blurred the lines forgetting who they really were. You didn’t know if she was one of them. If she were, she’d give you up in a heartbeat.

 Instead of giving yourself up, you decided to play it cool and observe. One way or another, she would show who she really was. The scene before you quickly got old. No one touched you or the Burnett you sat beside. It was like they all knew their place and didn’t even dare question it. They didn’t touch you, but they sure watched. You’d caught so many of them eye-fucking you it was seriously making you sick. For a second, your mind ran on OA and if he’d seen the scene in the backroom. As quickly as your mind dashed to him, you forced it away. Clear head, you reminded yourself. The easiest way to end up dead was to lose focus.

 A middle-aged man in grey suit pants and a matching grey button-down that was unbuttoned one too many buttons stopped in front of the two of you. He smiled and eyeballed the brunette first, then you.

 She kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Keep walking, Pete. Even you’re not dumb enough to touch one of Lowball’s treats. You know he likes them clean, and you also know what he’ll do to ya if he sees one print.”

 This so-called Pete rolled his eyes, sighed, then walked away mumbling something underneath his breath.

 “Loser,” she finished.

 That was when your eyes met.

 “You’re new.”

 “What of it?”

 She smiled, then continued chewing her gum.

 “What’s your name, sweetie?”

 “Dulce.”

 “Ah, I like sweet things.”

 She trailed her pointer up over your exposed knee until it made it’s way to the hem of your short dress. Once there, it lingered, seductively tracing the hem.

 “Your print doesn’t count?”

 She smiled, then leaned to your ear. Her lips were close enough for you to feel them.

 “Nope. He likes to watch. Take a look.”

 You slyly glanced to the one she’d called Lowball, and sure enough, he was watching the two of you like a hawk on his perch.

 “See. He gets off on it, especially if the new treat has to be broken in. Do you?”

 You turned to look at her, your lips were centimeters apart, but you didn’t back down.

 “Do I what?”

 She smiled, bit her bottom lip then spoke. “Need to be broken in.”

 You slowly smirked then bit your own bottom lip. Two can play this game.

 “Depends on who’s doing the breaking,” you replied.

 The brunette smiled, then closed the gap between you, pressing her lips to yours. Before you knew it, she was taking charge of a sultry kiss. She rolled her tongue around yours then sucked. As she did, you felt her hand cup your breast. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you also knew that was the wrong instinct. This was a test. You allowed her to kiss you, then battled her for control. After a minute, the kiss was still going, but once you thought of it, she pulled away, sucking her bottom lip.

 “Was I your first?”

 You gave her a faux shy smile. “No”

 She smiled wider.

 “Hey, lowball. This stallion is a certified good time.”

 She looked away from you for a few seconds and looked to Lowball before she smiled wider.

 “Let’s go.”

 You allowed her to lead you by the hand through the room filled with sex and drugs until you were in a hall. Neither of you spoke, and when you looked behind you, there was Lowball with his eyes on you.

 “I’m Tommi, by the way,” the brunette said with a smile.

 Soon you walked inside of a bedroom that was made of luxury but built for a sleaze. The room was filled with glass and leather. It even smelled like leather. The more you walked into the room, the more detail you took in. The linen on the bed was black silk, and there was even a mirror above the bed.

 “Go get ready, Tommi. Let me have five minutes with this beauty.”

 Your gut tensed, and Tommi hesitated, looking at Lowball.

 “Aww, you’re going to have fun without me, daddy?”

 Her whine was loud. Lowball smiled.

 “Don’t worry, angel, I promise you’ll be here for the fun stuff.”

 Tommi glanced at you, then back to Lowball, then shrugged as she walked to another door inside the bedroom. Before she closed the door behind her, you noticed her hand making fists in a staggered pulse pattern. Instantly you recognized it as a common sign you’d learned at Quantico. It meant you’re not alone or among friends. Tommi was the undercover agent with SVU. You looked to Lowball who stared at you as if he were trying to figure you out and unnerve you. You wouldn’t let it work.

 “Dulce, cute name. how are you going to prove it?”

 “The easiest way to find out if something is sweet is to taste it,” you teased, uncrossing and crossing your legs again. 

His eyes dropped to them, and that was where they remained. After too long, he stood and walked over to the bar. You heard the clinking of glass and crystal and anxiously waited for either him or Tommi to come back in. when he turned to you again, he held two glasses filled with a brown liquid. When he sat again, you watched him dig into his pant pocket and come back out with a small clear packet with white powder inside of it.

 Fuck, you thought. Many perps who operated sex trafficking rings liked to string their girls out before spending time with a perp. The gossip was the drugs always made the girls more compliant and easier to take advantage of. You watched him pour the contents into one of the glasses. Your stomach fell.

 “Oooh, daddy, now we’re really starting this party,” Tommi interjected as she crossed the room dressed in a sexy burgundy lingerie set.

 “Mmm, you look, wonderful angel,” Lowball complimented.

 He held out the glass that was substance-free to Tommi and held the one that he’d just laced to you. You hesitated. You knew precisely what the plan was after you drank that, and depending on what it was, you had thirty minutes before your choices would no longer be your own.

 “There are two ways out of this room, Dulce. Covered in, or filled with my superior cum or dead. Your choice,” Lowball informed.

 Tommi caught your eye. She sat on Lowball’s knee, rubbing his arm, but her eyes were dark.

 “Take a ride with me, Dulce,” she chimed.

 Sighing, you took the glass and swirled the liquid around, examining how undetectable whatever it was he’d poured in was. You downed the drink in one rise and tried to keep from vomiting. Shit was about to get real, you thought.

 Lowball smiled then stood, making Tommi stand as well.

 “Good job Dulce. I knew you’d see it my way,” he said before he walked away to the door.

 “I’ll be back in as much time as it takes that to kick in. You girls have some fun.

 The door closed behind him, and you gasped. Tommi was beside you in seconds. She dipped a little lower to come face to face with your earrings.

 “She’s just ingested Rolong. It’s a nastier version of Rohypnol these assholes craft themselves. You have thirty maybe forty minutes to figure out a way to grab control of this sting, or else your girl will find herself in a situation she won’t be able to avoid.”

 She looked at you, and though she looked relatively calm, you could still see some sort of panic in her eyes.

 “I have this.”

 She dug in her cleavage and pulled out a syringe. You had no idea how she’d concealed it for its size.

 “What—what is this?”

 “It’s adrenaline. It’s not much, and it won’t have a big of an impact as I’d like, but it will help with the effects. It’ll buy us maybe fifteen minutes,” Tommi explained.

 “Fine.”

 You held out your arm, giving her permission to inject you.

 “It’ll work better to your thigh.”

 Tommi pulled up your dress to find the right spot, then lowered the needle. Before she inserted the tip into your skin, she looked back at you. You gave her a nod to proceed. The injection's sting was sharp, and it felt as if it continued to go for so long.

 “Here we go,” Tommie whispered before she administered the medical cocktail.

 The burn in your thigh began almost immediately. It was a burn that increased, a burn that intensified until it felt like a terrible muscle spasm without the pain. Once the burn subsided, you could have sworn you felt the drug course through your body. It could have been your imagination or the effects of the other drug you’d ingested. You didn’t know.

 “In a minute or two, you’ll feel like you’ve stuck your finger in a socket. Try to remain calm. Remember, when he returns, he will be expecting you to be disoriented and pliable. You have to play along, or he will know something is not right. Do you understand me?”

 You nodded though your head felt heavy, and you felt as if you were about to topple over any minute. The woman in front of you was no longer clear or alone. There looked to be three or four of her. You tried to snap yourself out of it, and that was when you felt your heart begin to race. It began beating ten times faster than it had before. The only other time you recalled it beating like this was with OA. You heard Tommie speak again, but you didn’t quite understand what she said. It sounded muffled and distorted as if her voice was from a static transmission.

 “Come, you have to be ready by the time he gets back,” Tommie said.

 She walked over to the bench in the bedroom and returned with a black two-piece lingerie set along with a pink robe. This was not new to you. Men like these liked to see their prize displayed in as little clothes as possible. You dressed with Tommi’s help. With each passing minute, you felt the effects of both the adrenaline and the drug. Also, with each passing minute, your movements became slower and slower.

 Once you were changed, you looked at yourself in the mirror, and you looked ready to seduce any man. You staggered to the bed and then dropped onto it, unable to even carry the weight of your own body anymore. Tommi sat beside you and opened her mouth to say something but the door suddenly opened. Tommi laid on top of you and whispered for you to play along. She nuzzled your neck while caressing your thigh.

 “Don’t let me interrupt. I think I’ll watch for a moment,” Lowball said.

 Tommi looked at him and smiled. “I have a better idea. Let me entertain you while the Rolong takes full effect.”

 She stood and walked to Lowball, who was seated a few feet from the bed. The sound of loud pop-rock filled the room, and Tommi’s hips moved along with it. You laid there feeling as if there was a war going on inside of you. Two impulses were fighting for control. One impulse wanted to lay there, do nothing and stare at the ceiling that had begun spiraling as if it were a kaleidoscope. The other impulse wanted to get up and dance as if this were the last night you would be alive. Your limbs didn’t know which to listen to. Every time your muscles twitched to stand, your upper body refused to obey.

 Your brain found it next to impossible to think of one thing. It continued to jump from topic to topic, making you dizzy in the process. You tried to fight against the effects of the roofie you’d been given. You tried to aid the adrenalin pumping through your body, trying to work as a diluting agent. Several times time felt as if it lagged. It felt as if even your blinking was slowed, taking forever to close your eyes and open them again.

 When you felt the bed dip, you didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity. Looking to your right, you saw Tommi. She came to your ear and whispered.

 “We have ten minutes,” she whispered before she climbed on top of you then pulled Lowball into her embrace. You laid there watching, becoming more and more unsure of what was happening.

 “I think she’s ripe for the plucking.”

 Tommi giggled, then looked down at you.

 “I think we’d have a better time making her watch first. She needs to know what you like, daddy.”

 He looked to be contemplating things, and as he did, his eyes roamed over your body, taking in every detail. You felt a hand slide down your body, beginning at your neck and down the center of your body until it reached your navel.

 “I like that idea.”

 With that, he pulled Tommi to him, leaving you there to watch and listen. Your being must have felt how precarious your situation was because a strong will to fight overcame you, giving you renewed energy.

 “I’ve changed my mind.”

 Lowball pushed Tommi aside and climbed on top of you, burying his face in your neck.

 “The best way to learn is to do. She will catch on quick if she wants to live.”

 Almost as soon as his hands began roaming your body more vigorously, screams could be heard, but Lowball didn’t budge. When he heard the sound of a gunshot and glass shattering, he rolled off of you, dropping to the floor beside the bed. The room began to fill with smoke.

 “Stay here,” Tommi shouted.

 Everything seemed to move in slow motion, but real-time at the same time. You desperately tried to keep up.

 “Snap out of it, Y/N. Get up. Get up!”

 Though you were trying, your limbs were not obeying you. The sound of gunshots became louder and more persistent. Coughing, you tried to focus on making yourself get up. You tried to will your body to cooperate. Clenching your jaw, you screamed.

 “Get up!”

With much effort, you rose then bent forward until you were able to sit up straight. Instead of celebrating this small feat, you willed yourself to stand. You stood then tried to steady yourself. Before you could take a step, someone barreled into you, taking you to the ground. That was when your muscle instinct took over. You swung a punch that connected with someone’s jaw. Not waiting for them to retaliate, you began fighting back, not knowing who you punched. When you felt knuckles connect with your face, it had a strangely sobering effect like a second injection of adrenaline.

 You rolled onto them and proceeded to punch, not stopping. You felt a gun to your back. Before pausing, you punched the person underneath you once more. When you did that, the person behind you tried to grab you but got your robe instead, pulling it clear off you. As they did that, it gave you reprieve enough to do one of the tricky moves you’d learned at Quantico, which allowed you to flip the perp over your shoulder to land on the ground. You scurried around for the gun, praying you found it in time, especially with the fog in the room. When you grabbed it, you used the butt of the gun to slam down into the face of whoever was unlucky enough to find themselves your adversary.

 You stood and staggered to the door, then leaned on it trying to catch your breath. You checked the magazine in the Glock you held. Satisfied, you took a few more breaths trying to overcome your debilitation.

 “Let’s go, Y/N. You’ve got this.”

 You pushed yourself off the door then proceeded to go through the hall, fighting every step of the way. Every few moments, you leaned against a wall to catch your breath. A few gunshots sounded behind you, making you crouch and aim backward to clip the kneecap of one of the despicable men who worked for Lowball. When they reached for their weapon, you shot again, seeing the bullet puncture their chest. While they pushed out their last breath, you continued on.

 Getting to the stairs that led downstairs, you found bodies littered along the way.

 “Stop right there!”

 In front of you, the same man from the inspection stood there, pointing his pistol right at you.

 “Ha, of course, it was you. I knew there was something off about you.”

 “Guess you should have trusted your gut. Lower your weapon, and we’ll offer you a good deal,” you countered.

 “Not a chance.”

 “Listen dickhead. Do you hear that? That silence says your side has lost, and mine has won.”

 He lunged for you, and his shoulder knocked the wind out of you as he took you down, making both of you tumble down the stairs. You felt each step the entire way down. When you’d finished tumbling, you laid there, unable to move.

 “You bitch!”

 He climbed on you and wrapped his hands around your throat, and began squeezing. You gagged and coughed. It was then that the roofie took the strongest hold of you. Your entire body felt heavy, and even the thought of clawing his eyes out was too much. Every time you lifted your hands to do the job, they only plopped back down. You knew you were seconds from blacking out and seconds from death.

 He pulled one hand away, reached into his shirt pocket, and uncapped a needle with his mouth.

 “Let’s see you survive this!”

 He stabbed the needle into the side of your neck that he held with one impossibly strong hand. You screamed as he injected the substance into your bloodstream and, in the same breath, managed to reach the gun that was a few feet away from you and mustered enough energy to aim at his gut. A gunshot sounded, and the man’s movements above you paused for a moment before he tried to begin again. It was enough of a pause for you to take better aim with the gun, this time releasing another bullet in the center of his chest. He slumped forward enough for you to overpower him, but still, he fought. You rolled onto them and released one more bullet right in the center of his head.

 It was then you shouted out before you dropped onto him, then flopped to your back to stare at the ceiling. The sounds of gunshots around you slowed to only a few every so often. You didn’t know how long you laid there. It could have been five, ten, or more minutes. When you felt able, you sat up and stood, using the wall to hold your weight.

 With the gun in hand, you walked through the large home. You felt half-dead, and you knew it was whatever he’d injected you with. Your steps became slower and slower. Your movements more and more lagging. Still, you continued pushing through door after door, trying your best to fight. You slowly pushed through yet another door and found bright scope lights and red laser dots on your lingerie-clad body.

 “Freeze!”

 You tried to raise your hands but only made it halfway.

“Y/N!”

 Hearing OA’s voice, your body finally gave out. Before you touched the floor, OA was there, engulfing you in his arms.

 “I got you, baby. I  got you,” he whispered.

 You felt him tapping your cheeks, making you look at him blearily.

 “Are you hurt?”

 “Help me up.”

 OA used his strength to stand you up. Kristen was to your side in seconds, and in a few more seconds, OA had draped his FBI jacket around your shoulders before he scooped you in his arms. Unable to fight the drugs in your system any longer, you passed out sure of your safety in OA’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

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