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#oh man i haven’t been in the practice of tagging things….
avalencias · 2 years
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Beauyasha Week, day 1: angst/champion
Well…I’ve fully never been able to get this out of my head so. Have at it folks. A wordless comic I drafted up weeks ago, I like to think it still holds up. I will freely say I meant to refine this more but as ever, work did not allow that do here’s what y’all get.
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ramonathinks · 6 months
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Say His Name | SUKUNA
Say his name three times and he shall appear, fucking virgins before he disappear.
tags: (18+, minors and ageless blogs dni) corruption, virginity loss, monster-fucking, double cocks, mouth fucking, pet names (pet, my human, female), oral(f! receiving), handjobs, nipple play, fingering, creampies, copious amounts of cum, tummy bulge, sex in sukuna’s domain, overstimulation, mirror sex
notes: early i did originally plan an entire kinktober but lol (18+ banner/divider made by @/cafekitsune. repost from my first ever kinktober 🥂
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“SUKUNA, SUKUNA, SUKUNA.” Call it childish for believing in such tales. But you wanted it to be true. Looking in the darkly lit bathroom of your dorm bathroom you groaned, blowing the candle out. You flipped the light switch back on.
You’d been hearing about it all year. But you should’ve known better than to believe a silly little legend like this. But you were a blushing and bubbling mess of a virgin. So hearing of some mysterious sexy man who fucks virgins with no strings attached seemed too good to be true and you just had to test this theory. But really you should’ve known better. You were too old to believe in such things but you were all dolled up just for him.
You’d been waiting until everyone on your floor was gone and you put on your best and sexiest lingerie. You weren’t expecting to wear this for such a man that everyone has described but you were ready. You were thinking maybe for a boy who’s eventually won your heart you’d wear this to give yourself away.
Your hair was down in a medium length silk press, wearing puffy pink ugg slides and a short pink fuzzy nightgown that hugged every inch of your body, amplifying your busty breast all for show. You even went with no panties.
All for him.
All for a no show.
Sighing, you reached for your shower caddy and got prepared to wrap your hair.
But a deep chuckle from behind, startled you. Every fiber in your being was begging you not to turn around. Your stomach clutching with a sense of fear and your mouth running dry.
“Little human.” His voice alone had you shaking but surprisingly it wasn’t all just fear, something else deep inside, something not so pure filled your body. Lust. You were still too afraid to look at him, your knees growing weak as he continued to speak.
“Too scared to turn around but all dolled up just for me. I can practically smell your sweet nectar from here.” He purred, his breath on your neck and you could feel the warmth of his body heat all over you. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” Taking his tongue, he licked up your ear before biting your lobe. “I could smell how sweet you are even before I got here. I couldn’t believe how delectable you smelled.” With hard hands, he softly grasped both of your breasts.
You released a small yelp with such surprise but your tummy fluttered. “Oh, my little human likes that…” He took note, pressed hot kisses against your neck. Squeezing your breast. With rough hands he stroked your nipples until they grew hard.
You were letting him have his way with you and you still hadn’t even seen his face. You moaned when you felt the soft drag of his claws, tugging at your gown.
“Tell me how badly you like my touch female…or I might just stop.” He pressed his hips into yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he was. “Don’t you want my cocks?” His voice was laced with something unfamiliar, he pressed his nose in your hair and did a quick inhale.
Desire pooled in your belly whenever he talked. “C-cocks?” You squealed. “I… I don’t think I can handle such a thing…” You muttered, trying to move away from him, keeping your eyes trained on your feet.
“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw in his fingers and forced your eyes to the mirror. Your pussy clenched against nothing when you saw his face. He was truly a beautiful demonic man. With sharp teeth and dark eyes that ate up your entire figure. There was colorful dark markings over his face and a sickening grin on his lips when he noticed you staring so hard. His spiked pink hair looked so soft that you wanted to pet him. “You desire is all in the air,” His told you. “Let me please you, my little human.”
“W-wait! I-um…” Your voice was hoarse and completely choked out as you stuttered, trying to find any excuse.
“You wish to deny me this?” He palmed your pussy. Dragging his hand all over the mound before trailing lower. “You are truly ravishing… in all these places.” You we’re panting and hanging on to every word he spoke, opening your thighs wider so he can feel you.
“Tell me…beg me…” His hand ran down lower, inching closer and closer towards your puffy clit.
Then he pulled away.
It was awful and your body felt cold, you even almost tripped over yourself, to which he chuckled. “Why did you st—”
Pressing his hot lips to yours he kissed you, squeezing your ass and adding his tongue. His tongue was sucking and sliding in every inch of your mouth, you could barely breathe. It felt so long and so deep, almost like he was in your throat. “I want you to beg me for my touch, I know you want it… so beg for it, or you won’t get it.” He said as he pulled away, drool on the corner of his mouth.
“Please…touch…me…” You forced the words he wanted to hear out. “I want your fingers, your tongue, your…cocks.” You whimpered a deep pout on your lips. He smiled at your honesty and he clipped your lingerie down with his claws in one swift motion.
His thumb caressed your folds softly and he groaned watching the wetness drip to the floor. Slipping one finger inside, you gasped, holding on to his wrist and grinding down a bit. Loud squelching noises filling the air every time he pushed in a bit deeper. “Tight little thing. All for me.” He dropped to his knees and licked his lips once he spread your folds open.
“Pretty little pearl.” He rasped before taking it in his mouth. Your hips buckled and thrashed against his face, your moans echoing and bouncing off the walls. He added another finger, hard. Slamming them both inside of you, stretching you wide. So much cream and slick ran down your thighs, he pumped faster inside of you.
Both of his cocks were leaking and aching but all he could think about was your pussy and just how good it taste. He groaned with his eyes closed, spreading his fingers inside as you sobbed above him.
“Please, please…” He didn’t know what you were begging for. He sucked, putting his entire mouth on you, licking up and down your sensitive clit. He pressed deep kisses before removing his fingers from your insides. He dipped his tongue deep inside of your tightness and he felt you tighten up, fisting your hand in his hair, rocking your hips.
“Sukuna!” Your eyes were filled with tears as he moaned for more of your virgin taste on his tongue. Hearing his name on your tongue had him throbbing but he resisted touching himself — wanting only to come in your tight pure virgin body.
“I’m going to— ah.” Your body snapped and shook but he continued to feast on your insides, his long tongue hitting all your sensitive spots and every muscle, you came around his tongue and he welcomed everything you gave him. Your walls fluttered against his tongue and your hands grabbed even deeper into his hair, toes curling and small sniffles filling the room.
He placed his tongue back to your sore clit and gave it a few more sucks before he smirked up at you, the pretty noises still in your throat as you tried your hardest to be quiet. Looking up at you with such desire that you felt yourself shrinking. “I was waiting so long for you…” He told you, standing to his full height. “Don’t know if I can let you go this time…”
You didn’t understand. You were still reeling down from such an orgasm. He inhaled against your neck. “Pretty little human. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Too precious.” He took your lips again and you closed your eyes deeply, gripping his arm as you tasting yourself on his tongue.
When you finally pulled back and opened your eyes, you didn’t know where you were. All darkness surrounded you, dimly lit candles and a beautifully made canopy bed with dark sheets. You could see some sort of throne in the other part of this dark place, which took up almost the entirety of that space. The room seemed to go on forever, almost endless. You felt empty, he wasn’t there anymore. Confusion bled through your mind until you felt him take your hand, dragging you to the bed.
“What did you mean… with what you said moments ago?” You swallowed, trying not to look him in the eyes. But those deep red eyes made it almost too hard to do that. He stared you down before pushing you down to the bed.
“It means you’re mine. All mine.” His hot tongue trailed down your neck and it burned you, your weak legs thrusting against him. He lowered his hips flush against yours and you could feel just how big and thick his cocks were, it was almost disgusting how badly you wanted them. He sniffed and did a devilish grin at you. “Why fight it? You called me here. I have you. Don’t tell me you’re still scared… I won’t hurt you.” He promised.
The way his eyes held such sincerity you couldn’t look away. The flimsy material he wore, slipped off and you got a glimpse of everything he was hiding from you. The rippling abs and those dark marks similar to the ones on his face, you could feel yourself leaking when your eyes drifted to the pretty cocks he possessed.
Throbbing and veiny. Angry red tips coded in leaking creamy pre-cum. You didn’t mean to but you licked your lips and he groaned in your ear: “Female, it looks like you want to taste my cocks…” More pre-cum dripped down and you were panting at the sight, something coming over you. With a trembling hand, you reached out between you both and gripped the base of one, he twitched in your hand but you didn’t stop your assault.
He was thick. You couldn’t imagine doing this to both of his cocks at the same time, you needed both of your hands just to cover just one of them. He thrusted his hips upward, sliding himself through your hands with strained moments. He didn’t want to cum, only wanted it to be inside of you but fuck, this was heaven.
You stroked him, nice and slow. Feeling every bit of him and keeping your clouded eyes on his, both of your breathings harsh and in sync, hot and turned on. Rubbing your thumb on the tip, you watched as a bit more liquid leaked out, slipping between your hands.
“Knees. Now.” He rasped, he needed to be in your tight little mouth now. He needed it. You barley had time to move before he was thrusting himself inside of your mouth. “Fuck…ing, pretty little mouth.” He muttered, thrusting his hips harshly in and out of your mouth. His other cock begging for attention, you squeezed it hard and be released a beautiful moan continuing his rhythm.
Swallowing around him, he bellowed. “Fuck!” He had manners and didn’t want to mess up his female’s hair but he wanted you to take him deeper into your mouth. Pulling you slightly by your hair, he buried himself deeper into your mouth. Bucking his hips, you slid your mouth up and down — saliva covering his length — then you lapped at the tip, rubbing your mouth on it before slipping him back into your throat. Moaning around his cock, then you decided to switch to his other cock.
He was amazed and his toes were curling, watching you. He could see just how much of him was buried in your throat. He could hear the amount of sucking and slurping and you still had time to fondle his balls.
He was going to cum. He could feel it in the pits of his belly. Sweet moans leaving your mouth and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a deep groan, he pulled you flush to his hips and came deep inside of your mouth, his other cock jerking and spasming — raining cum on your face.
He looked at your cum splattered face and his cocks grew hard again and he knew the perfect way to end the night. “Need to be inside of you, now.” He didn’t want anything to stop him. He didn’t clean you off or anything, he wanted to fuck you as filthy and dirty as you looked.
And he would.
He pulled down your panties and looked at your leaking cunt. Smiling in delight, “All this just from sucking my cocks…naughty girl.” He lined up both of his cocks to your small hole.
“Both of them?!” You squealed with wide eyes. “They can’t both fit…” You swallowed hard and he did a roar of heavy laughter.
“Gonna just stretch you out with this one,” He rubbed his throbbing tip along your slippery glistening folds as you cried out. “Then once you’re all full, gonna add my other cock and make you cum all night, my little human.”
He lined himself back against your tight heat, almost slipping inside, he eyed your face before he thrusted forward and buried himself inside of your virgin flesh. Your nails were digging into him as you screamed, it hurt bad.
He was so massive inside of you and your walls wouldn’t let him go, clinging to him. “So damn tight.” He groaned, his hips snapped and with each thrust he was able to get deeper and deeper.
He couldn’t bare to look at you, hearing your small sniffles was hard enough. He wanted this pleasurable for you. His fingers were fast on their way to your little clit that was already throbbing for his attention, he pressed two of them against you and felt you roll your hips against his with a sharp moan, “Ah!”
He did a few sloppy thrust, his balls hitting the cusp of your ass and he could tell that you were feeling good based off how you were reacting. “Please make me cum.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Now with a newer angle he pressed deep into a gooey wetness that had your tongue out and you squeezing his cock even better than before.
He slammed his cock inside of you, now going at any intense speed. Rocking his hips into yours, trying to hit your sweet spot again. He pressed deeper inside of you, bottoming out. “Say my name.” He told you, softly against your lips before claiming them. His thrust going hard and reckless, stretching you out.
You felt so full, he reached down and jerked his other cock. Squeezing the tip and continuing to thrust faster, rocking the bed. “Say my name.” He said again, his hips slamming down on yours. He felt heavy inside of you and you couldn’t focus on him, drowning in a warmth of endless pleasure.
He bucked his hips and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up — to look into the mirror above you, watching yourself getting fucked before saying again: “Say my name.” This time annoyed and with a growl.
“Sukuna!” He pumped his cock inside of your little pussy, stretching it just for him and thrusting more — the hold your cunt had on his cock made him bite his lip when he withdrew himself slightly before slamming back inside.
Your eyes roll back when his tip hits your special spot again and your moans has him in a chokehold, “Sukuna, right there, please… again.” You arch your back and he grips your waist, pushing you back down into the mattress.
With a last long thrust, he fills your cervix with creamy cum that leaks out of you. His other cock bobbling before spraying you down as well, you clench around him for the final time and almost breathlessly you say his name again.
Body weak and your eyes fluttering. He pulls you closer to him and kisses your lips.
“My little human stuffed with my cum.” He purrs, wrapping a strong arm around you and you say something that he can’t hear as you drift and drift…
And drift to sleep.
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minkkumaz · 7 months
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WATER WASHED SHOULDERS
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when the tension of your day lies in your knotted shoulders, all you want is a bath with the man you love the most to ease your nerves.
PAIRING kim seungmin x fem!reader WC 0.7k TAGS established relationship trope. suggestive (?). fluff. OMI NOTE needed to get something out even if it was small, and this idea has been on my mind forever ahgh. bathing with seungmin sounds so intimate i wanna smooch him.
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work days always ran long for you and seungmin, leaving not much time to actually spend with one another. it was something the two of you mutually craved, the opportunity to hold each other without passing out for the night. 
and while he wasn’t as into physical touch as you were, even he got antsy sometimes, just wanting to be around you. that puppy - like yearning he always had became more evident. though, whenever he gets the chance to pamper you, it’s like the world came in full circle. 
you arrive home shortly after he did, kicking shoes off your sore feet and dropping all your things at the door. every part of you was ready to clean up and go to sleep. the sound of rustling in a cabinet piqued your interest, as you turned the corner to see your boyfriend grabbing two towels.
“hi pup, are you about to take a bath?” you question, giving him a quick embrace.
“no, we are about to take a bath.” he responded casually, stacking the material in one arm and taking your hand with the other. 
“ah– really? we haven’t bathed together in so long..” your lips perk into a shy smile as you follow behind him in the bathroom.
“i know, but i got home a little earlier today so i set something up for us, is that okay?” he says.
“of course it’s okay! you’re too sweet when you want to be.”
“don’t get used to it.” he tries to sound annoyed, but you know he’s just being sarcastic.
turning the knob, you see all the bubbles practically overflowing out of the tub. the lights were dim, making the glow from the two scented candles on the countertop more prominent. the steam rose from the tub, creating a comforting and misty atmosphere in the bathroom.
his expression was fond, feeling proud of the work he did and your smiley reaction to all of it. 
“min.. this is so lovely oh my gosh.” you frown, squeezing his hand.
“let me take care of you, yeah?” slowly slipping the clothes from off your heavy shoulders, the two of you undressed and lowered yourself comfortably inside the sudsy water. it splashed slightly around you as you gripped the sides of the tub. instant relief enveloped your body in the form of warm water.
seungmin took it upon himself to pull you close against his chest, feeling the contrast between his cold skin and minor heat of the bath. his arms wrapped around your torso lightly as you relaxed into his touch. a sigh of relief left your lips.
he took a pastel - colored bottle from the ledge, opening the cap and squeezing a dime sized dollop of the shampoo he uses. a finger reached around to the tip of your chin, tilting your head back so he could rub it into your hair. the scent engulfed you, making you open one of your eyes to look up at your boyfriend.
“is this your shampoo?” 
“mhm, is the smell too strong for you?” he asks quietly, his hands stopping from massaging your scalp.
“no, just wondering why you didn’t use mine instead. yours is almost out, pup.” you close your eye again, letting him continue his movements.
“just want you to smell like me.” he mumbles, using one of his hands to grab a cup of water to let it slowly trickle down your head.
once all of the soap was washed from your hair, he took a small loofa and lathered it with body wash in the same scent. his touch was tender and affectionate, demonstrating his love and desire to take care of you. the warm water and his ministrations relaxed your tired muscles, melting away the stress of the day.
your back, shoulders, arms, and every part of your body was scrubbed lightly in a soothing rhythm that eased your body. it had been awhile since the both of you had the opportunity to have such an intimate moment together; basking in the comfortable silence in which so much love drowned the two of you.
moments like these made you feel so lucky to have seungmin with you, and the drive he had to pamper you showed that he felt the same way. he poured more water on you in little bursts, washing away all of the bubbles against your skin.
“are you ready to get out, pretty?” he leans his head around to place a kiss on your wet cheek.
“just a little bit longer.” you rest your head back on one of his shoulders, eyes still closed shut.
“sounds like a plan.”
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sailor-aviator · 5 months
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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Five
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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Five
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.
Trigger warnings: Language, Mean girl Mandy, Flirting, Alcohol, Siren call, Supernatural elements, Kind of suggestive/smutty but not really? idk
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N: Alright, alright! The ball is starting to roll! We've got a lot going on now, I think. Can't wait to hear y'all's thoughts! Also, shoutout to @goldenseresinretriever for letting me bounce ideas off of her! You the real MVP!! If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!
Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
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“I thought the bonfires happened the other night?” You asked Bob as the two of you made your way down the practically deserted streets. It was late, and the only people out were the young adults still looking to have a good time. The family friendly activities had ended hours ago, and now it was time for the partying to start.
“They were supposed to,” he said, eyes scanning the dimly lit street, “but they got postponed because of all the rain the other week. This was the only night that worked for most everyone around town.”
“That works out for us, I guess,” you hummed, hearing the sound of crashing waves grow closer as you neared the beach.
“Hey, thing one and thing two!”
The two of you turned around to see a grinning Bradley jogging up behind you, and you turned with a smile to greet him.
“Hey, Bradley!” You chirped. “We thought you’d already be down at the beach with everyone else.”
“I was, but I forgot my phone at the house,” he said, waving his phone in his hand. “So I ran back to grab it. Everyone else should already be down there, though.”
“We better get a move on before all the drinks are gone,” Bob mused, already moving once again. Bradley fell into step alongside you, bumping your shoulder with his.
“Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, Skipper,” he joked, casting a smirk down at you. “You been avoiding me?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” you giggled.
Bradley scoffed, giving you an offended look that was made less serious by the grin on his face. “Me? Avoid you? Don’t be ridiculous. Who in their right mind would avoid a sweet, little thing like you?”
“You must not really know her then,” Bob snorted. “She practically cut my hand off when I went for the last fry at lunch today.”
“That was entirely your fault,” you huffed, sticking your tongue out at him. “You know how much I love french fries.”
“Yeah, enough to cause grievous bodily injuries, apparently,” he smirked. You scowled at him before looking back at Bradley who was also smirking at you.
“He’s being dramatic,” you offered with a shrug.
“Barely.”
“Like you’re one to talk,” you griped as the three of you walked down the stairs and onto the beach. You could see the glow from the various fires flicker in the night, groups of different people huddled around each one. “I have to set an alarm every morning to wake up before he does if I want any bacon.”
“Oh, trust me,” Bradley laughed, steering you towards a fire on the edge of the grouping, Bob in tow. “I grew up with him. I know how much bacon he puts away.”
“I am not that bad,” Bob huffed, earning identical dubious looks from both you and Bradley. You giggled when Bradley quirked his eyebrow at you.
“Sure you aren’t, Bob,” you laughed, earning a scowl from your best friend.
“You made it!”
The three of you turned to see Nat waving at you, the rest of the squad already settled in on the towels surrounding the small fire. You felt a shiver run up your spine as you made eye contact with a pair of mossy green ones. You looked away as your cheeks warmed, letting Bradley guide you across the fire and down on a group of towels, Bob on your other side.
“So,” said the brunette sitting next to Jake, blue eyes calculating as she took you in. She was just as beautiful as the last time you saw her. Tan skin glowed in the light from the fire, body lithe and athletic. She looked like she walked off the cover of a fashion magazine, and her narrowed gaze was trained on you, lips curled into waht appeared to be a permanent sneer. “You must be the tagalong I’ve heard so much about. Skipper was it?”
You shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at Bradley as he stiffened next to you, a glare fixed on his face as he looked at her.
“Yeah,” you said, offering an anxious smile as you looked back at her. “That’s what they call me anyway.”
“It’s cute,” she said, tone indicating that she most certainly did not find it cute. “I’m Mandy. You’ve probably heard of me from the others.”
“Oh, yeah,” you smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’m not surprised,” she continued with a smirk. “I’ve known everyone here since we were in diapers. We go way back, you know. Don’t feel bad if you end up feeling left out in our conversations, okay?”
You shifted again, this time knocking your knee into your bag. The shells you carried with you jostled, clinking together, and you blushed when everyone looked at you.
“What was that?” Mickey asked, peering over to get a better look. You lifted your bag as you began to pull each shell out and placing it carefully on the towel.
“Oh, these are the shells and things I’ve been finding everywhere!” You smiled, running your fingers over the conch. “Aren’t they amazing? I’ve never seen so many beautiful shells in my life! And they’re all perfectly in tact, can you believe it? It’s like someone just plucked them up off the ocean floor and set them out for me to find!”
“That’s quite a collection,” Nat chuckled, shooting a smirk off to the side. You followed her line of sight, and your eyes made direct contact with the mossy green ones from earlier. Jake looked at you with an expression that could only be described as awe as he took you in, eyes peering down to where you cradled the conch gently in your hands before looking back up at you. His eyes shone in the firelight, a hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at you. You felt another blush creep up your neck, and you leaned forward to place the conch closer to the fire for everyone to see. You heard a sharp intake of breath, and you looked up to see Mandy with a look of rage and shock on her face as she stared at you. You realized quickly she wasn’t staring at your face, but rather down at the base of your neck. Her eyes darted up to meet yours and her expression shifted quickly into one of cold contempt.
“You actually carry those around with you?” She sneered, scoffing out a laugh. “What are you? Five?”
You frowned up at her, suddenly feeling self conscious as you glanced around the group. Their smiles had shifted into looks of irritation as they glared at the brunette.
“Oh, I just-”
“I mean,” she sniffed, cutting you off, “I suppose it’s fitting for someone who looks like you though, right? You’re not exactly dressed to impress or anything.”
You looked down at your clothes, a frown on your face. You weren’t normally self conscious. Sure, you didn’t look like a model like Mandy, but you didn’t think you were hard on the eyes. You had dressed for comfort though, and it was plain to see in your jean shorts, tank top, and white button up. Mandy wore a pair of cutoffs and a tight fitting tank top that showed off her figure, and her makeup was immaculate. You hadn’t seen the point in putting any on. Should you have?
“Mandy,” Bob growled, glaring in a warning.
“Oh, I know she’s your friend and all, Bobby,” Mandy continued, a viscious smirk poised on her lips. “But let’s be honest. I mean, we’re among friends, right? And friends should be honest with each other. You’d be lucky if anyone gave you the time of day looking like that. Nevermind the silly, little shells you’re carrying around everywhere. You really should have left those back at the house, you know. And tell me you brought something nice to where for the ocean dance festival. Can you imagine if you wore some frumpy shorts to something like tha-”
“Shut up.”
All eyes turned to Jake who was glaring into the fire, eyes cold as the water that lapped the shore behind you. Mandy narrowed her eyes at him, rage clouding her features.
“Excuse me?” She spat, turning to face him. His gaze shifted to her, jaw clenching.
“Was I not clear enough?” He said evenly. “I said ‘shut up.’”
You hadn’t even realized that tears had gathered in your eyes until Bob laid a gentle hand on your shoudler causing you to jump. You looked over at him, sniffling as he gave you a concerned look. You wiped at the corner of your eyes, scrambling to your feet. You felt everyone’s eyes on you as you shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding their gazes.
“I’m, uh,” you gulped, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “I’m gonna go get something to drink.”
“I’ll come with you,” Bradley said, moving to his feet and giving you a gentle smile. “I’m parched.”
You turned to Bob with a watery smile. “You want anything?”
He studied you for a second, eyes uncertain. You gave him a look that you hoped communicated your need to pretend like you were okay, and he pressed his lips together.
“Just a beer.”
“You got it!” You smiled, trying and failing to add your usual cheeriness to the statement. You gave a half smile that you were sure came off as more of a grimace as you made your way towards the line of coolers on the other side of the fires. Bradley followed you silently, and you kept your head down, feeling the tears start to stream down your cheeks.
You knew you were being silly. They were just words after all, and you were a grown woman. You shouldn’t be letting silly words get to you like this. But why did they hurt so bad? You knelt by one of the coolers, fishing out two beers and a coke. You handed one of the beers to Bradley, refusing to make eye contact with him as you pushed the lid to the cooler closed.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing onto your arm gently, pulling you so that you faced him.
You kept your head down, and Bradley let out a sigh.
“Listen,” he started, hesitating as if he were choosing his next words carefully. “You shouldn’t listen to Mandy, okay? She’s a stone cold bitch on the best of days, and, well, she’s never been told ‘no’ a day in her life. She’s always gotten what she wanted, when she wanted it.”
“What’s your point?” You muttered, glancing off to the side as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Bradley let out another sigh, taking his hand from your arm to run it through his hair.
“My point is that she’s taking her new experience with the word out on you, and it’s not fair. I know it’s hard, but just ignore her, okay? She’s just jealous.”
“Of me?” You scoffed, finally meeting his gaze. Bradley smirked down at you, casting you a wink.
“You’re pretty great, Skipper,” he hummed. “Anyone with eyes can see it. Now, come on. Let’s head back to the others, yeah?”
You nodded, and the two of you made your way back to the fire. As you approached, you noted that Jake was the only one still there, eyes trained on the flames in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. He jumped when Bradley plopped down next to him, leaving just enough room for you to slide in between them.
“Where’d the others go?” Bradley asked, twisting the top off his beer and taking a swig from the bottle. Jake grimaced, gesturing around towards the other fires.
“Take your pick.”
Bradley hummed, leaning back on the towel with his legs outstretched towards the fire. The three of you were silent for a moment, and you felt a tingling sensation on your left side. You turned to find Jake already looking at you, eyes soft as they took you in. Your breath caught in your throat, cheeks flushing. You thought you should have been been creeped out with how intensely he was staring at you, but you felt oddly comfortable under his gaze. In fact, you found yourelf sitting up a little straighter, almost preening under his gaze, and a small smile tugged on Jake’s lips as he took you in, eyes blazing as they reached your neck.
You jumped as Bradley suddenly leaned over in front of you, breaking the spell you found yourself under. A shit eating grin was etched onto his face as he looked at Jake.
“Did you know Skipper here always wanted to be a mermaid?”
You felt yourself begin to splutter as your cheeks warmed for a different reason, eyes growing wide as you peered between the two men. Bradley waggled his eyebrows as Jake’s own shot up on his forehead. A smirk graced his lips, giving him a devilish look to his already handsome features. He looked at you, smirk intensifying as he saw your flustered state. He leaned forward, smirk growing into a grin as you glanced away.
“Is that so?” He hummed, warm breath ghosting over your face.
“I will remind you that I was, like, five at the time,” you snapped, glaring at Bradley. He only chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked lazily up at you.
“I think you’d make a cute mermaid, don’t you agree, Jake?”
Jake nodded with another hum, eyes taking on a look you couldn’t place, but it made you squirm nonetheless.
“Just imagine her swimming around with all her little fishy sidekicks,” Bradley teased, eyes alight with mischief. You scoffed, turning to face him.
“As if,” you snarked, “my sidekick wouldn’t be a fish, it would be a stingray.”
Jake quirked an eyebrow. “Why a stingray?”
“Oh,” you blushed, your nerves kicking up again. “Because they’re my favorite.”
Jake nodded slowly, like he was trying to commit that fact to memory. Bradley snorted beside you, and the two of you looked over at where he was smirking, eyes peeking at Jake before looking back at you.
“How could I forget?” He drawled, taking another sip of his beer. “I met Rusty when you and I were snuggled in bed the other morning.”
“That’s not-”
You were cut off by a growl to your left. You turned to see Jake’s entire expression had changed. His jaw was clenched, eyes trained on Bradley as if he wanted to take his head off. His fists were clenched so tight, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was drawing blood from where his fingernails dug into his palms. He was almost too still as he glared at Bradley, the other man looking smug as he took in his friend’s appearance.
“Are you okay?” You asked the blond, and his eyes glanced over at you, gaze seeming to soften as he took in your concern.
“Bradshaw!” Reuben called from across the way. “Get your ass over here!”
Bradley heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet. “And that’s my cue,” he muttered.
You watched as he strutted over to where Reuben and Mickey were gathered with a group of people you didn’t know, leaving you alone with Jake.
“He’s such an ass sometimes,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“Isn’t he one of your best friends?” You asked him with a giggle. Jake’s demeanor seemed to relax at the sound.
“Unfortunately,” he grumbled, casting another glare over at where Bradley stood chatting and laughing.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” You frowned, noticing how tense he still seemed to be. He looked back at you, hesitating before letting out a sigh.
“Yeah, I guess I’m just feeling a little overheated or something,” he muttered, flexing his hands as he uncurled his fists. He moved to stand, and you followed suit.
“Think I’m going to go take a walk to cool off,” he mused, rolling his shoulders back. You frowned, rubbing a hand over your arm.
“Oh, okay,” you said, glancing at the ground, shifting your feet in the sand that covered the towel. Jake seemed to hesitate once more, chewing his bottom lip.
“Do you want to join me?” He asked you, his green eyes hopeful as you met his gaze. You felt a smile tug on your lips as you nodded.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” you murmured, moving to grab your bag. You stopped when you noticed it was placed neatly on top of the towel you had been sitting on previously, shells already back inside.
“I, uh,” Jake stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want anything to happen to them, so I put them back in your bag. I guess I should have asked first instead of just moving them. I’m sorry if I-”
“No,” you smiled, “it’s okay. Thank you.”
Jake gave you a nervous, tight lipped smile before nodding. “You can leave your bag here if you want. No one is going to take it.”
You returned his nod, gesturing for him to lead the way down the beach.
The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, the ocean waves crashing off to your right, and the cool, night breeze ruffling your hair.
“Listen,” Jake started, stopping to turn to you, eyes earnest as they took you in. “I’m sorry about Mandy-”
“Oh, no, Jake,” you frowned, shaking your head. “You don’t have to apologize for her.”
“No, but I do,” he stated firmly, face serious as he looked at you. “It’s my fault she’s taking it out on you. She’s been so convinced that she and I are going to end up together, and now that she knows that’s not the case, she’s on the warpath.”
“Jake,” you sighed, “I understand feeling some kind of weird responsibility for her, but her actions are her own. You shouldn’t have to apologize on her behalf. She’s a big girl just like I am, right? We’re adults who are capable of making our own decisions and apologizing for the wrong we do. None of this is your fault.”
He didn’t look convinced, and you took his hand in yours to offer him some kind of reassurance. A bolt of electricity ran through you, causing you to let out a gasp, and a warmth rushed over you, causing you to squirm. You felt like a magnet, drawn to Jake in a way that you couldn’t even begin to understand. You wanted to feel more of him, to consume and be consumed by him. You had never felt anything like it in your life, and you looked up at him hazy eyes to find that he wasn’t any better off.
His own eyes had a haze to them, seeming to glow in the moonlight. His breathing came out labored, almost like he was fighting to maintain his composure. His eyes raked over you, a hand coming up to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzled into it without thinking.
“You’re so pretty,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer to you.
“You’re just saying that,” you muttered, leaning into him.
“No,” he stated firmly, causing you to jump just a hair. His other hand came up to rest on your hip, pulling you closer so that you were practically molded against him.
“No,” he said again, gentler this time. “I mean it. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
If it were possible, you were sure your skin would have heated up even more than it already was. As it stood, a pleasant warmth spread through you at his proximity, and the hand that was cradling your cheek slowly drifted down until it brushed the mark on your neck. You let out a wanton cry at the shock of pleasure that jolted through you at the simple touch, and Jake smirked down at you, stroking softly over the mark again and again as he drew more pleasured cries from you.
“It’s okay,” he cooed, leaning his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose against the tip of yours. “I’ve got you.”
You couldn’t find it in you to feel embarrassed at the intense amount of pleasure you felt at the simplest of touches, too focused on the way his hands felt on you. You raised your own, one hand cradling his cheek as the other ran through his golden hair. He let out a groan as you tugged gently on the soft strands, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that spread across your face. Jake’s eyes met yours, the green of them so intense that it took your breath away. He glanced down at your lips, slowly leaning in-
“Jacob Seresin!”
You gasped, grasping at your ears at the almost inhuman shriek that pierced the night air. Jake pulled back, placing you almost protectively behind him. You peered around him to see Mandy glaring at him, blue eyes practically glowing with rage. Her gaze turned to you, and you shrank back slightly, hiding behind Jake a little more. This only served to make Mandy even more irate, and she snarled as she stomped closer to the two of you.
Jake bristled, standing taller as he continued to block you from Mandy’s warpath.
“How dare you,” she spat at him, lips pulled back into a sneer. “You’re mine.”
“No,” Jake growled, “I’m not.”
You shifted behind him, moving out from behind him slowly, and the pair turned to look at you. You gave them a sheepish smile, as you inched around Mandy, hands up in a form of surrender.
“I’m just going to head back so you two can talk in private,” you murmured. Jake looked like he wanted to argue, but Mandy’s glare had you moving before he could say anything.
You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked back towards the bonfires, already missing Jake’s touch. You had never felt anything so intense in your entire life, and you wondered what had come over you to make you act so brazenly. You weren’t one for hookups, but you weren’t even sure that’s what that was going to be. He had held you so gently, like you might break or run away at any moment. You had been so ready to give him every part of you in that moment. You knew you should have been worried at that thought, but a large part of you thought that it felt right, that you should give yourself to him. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself wanting to turn around and go back to him.
You were about halfway back down the beach when it started. It was quiet at first, distant. But then it grew louder, and you found yourself slowing to a stop, turning towards the crashing waves to your left.
The song was beautiful, melancholic. It was unlike the one you had heard before, this one sounding more animal like than human, but you still found yourself drawn to it. It called to you, begging you to listen, and you did, feeling the sound drift through your mind and pulling you in. You weren’t sure when you started walking, but you felt the sand shift beneath your feet as you slowly made your way towards the water. The fires faded from your sight, the churning waves beckoning to you like gentle hands that promised refuge. The song grew louder, all consuming, blocking everything else out but the need to answer. You felt the wind whip your hair around you, the cold sting kissing your cheeks as the crashing waves grew louder, the song more desperate. The sand beneath your feet grew cold as you ventured into a spot where the water met the shoreline. You’re almost there, the song called to you. You felt a relieved smile tug on your lips at the thought of finally reaching your goal and answering the song. You felt the water come just up to your toes before retreating back. You closed your eyes in anticipation. Just one more step.
You let out a cry as you were yanked away from the water, a strong hand on your upper arm. Your arms reached for the water, your mind still foggy as a loud, keening cry sounded from the water before disappearing entirely. You whirled around to see Javy staring at you with an intense worry, Nat just behind him, worry clear on her face.
“Wha-” you mumbled, pressing a hand to the side of your head as it began to pound. “What happened? Javy?”
“Hey, Skipper,” he murmured gently, pulling you closer, away from the water. “We’ve been calling you for a while now. You okay?”
“I…” you trailed off, glancing between him and the water. “I’m not sure.”
“How about we get you some water, yeah?” Nat suggested, wrapping her arms around you as she led you back to the bonfires. You nodded slowly.
“Yeah,” you muttered, glancing back at the ocean. “Yeah, okay.”
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200 notes · View notes
clusterbuck · 1 month
Text
come back
3x03 episode tag | christopher tries to find buck after they're separated | 1.6k | read it on ao3
Christopher’s been taking surfing lessons. 
They practiced what to do if a wave hits, but it didn’t prepare him for this. They’d practiced in a wave pool, and in the shallow water at the beach where they practiced standing up on surfboards, but he’s never been so deep his feet can’t reach the bottom. 
Until now. Now the water is as deep as a ladder truck, and it’s moving so fast he can’t keep his head up. He can’t see the truck anymore, can’t see Buck, can’t see anything but the debris swirling around him and the bright colours of the houses going past.
Another surge of water hits him, running over his head and pulling him down, and he’s thrashing, thrashing, trying to find air to take a breath—
Someone grabs his arm, then his leg, and he’s pulled out of the water and onto the roof of a car.
Christopher coughs, spitting out water, and rubs his eyes. Someone crouches next to him—a woman—and pushes hair back from his face. 
“Are you okay?” she asks, her hands running over him like his dad’s had, once, when he tried to jump off the table in the school playground. “Does it hurt?” 
Christopher blinks, thinks for a second, then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “But I lost my glasses.” Everything beyond the woman in front of him looks blurry, like he’s looking at the world through fogged-up plastic. 
“But nothing hurts?” the woman confirms.
“No,” Christopher says. “I’m okay.” He looks around, squinting, trying to see even without his glasses. “Where’s Buck?” 
The woman frowns. “Who’s Buck? Is that your dad?” 
“No,” Christopher says. “My dad is my dad. Buck is my friend.” 
“Were you playing with him when the tsunami hit?” 
“No,” Christopher says. “He was—he was looking after me. But then I fell off the ladder truck.”
The woman frowns. “Your friend was looking after you?” 
Christopher sighs. “Buck is my dad’s friend,” he explains. “But he’s also my friend.” 
“Oh,” the woman says. “I get it now.” She smiles at him, puts her hand on his arm. “My name is Gabriella,” she says. “What’s yours?”
“Christopher,” he says. 
“Okay, Christopher,” Gabriella says. “Let’s try and find your dad, huh? Or your mom?” 
“My dad is a firefighter,” Christopher says. “He’s helping people. And my mom—” he blinks. “My mom isn’t here. We have to find Buck.”
“I haven’t seen him,” Gabriella says, her voice a little sad. “There was nobody else with you when we saw you. But we can look for him together, okay?” She gestures at the man on her other side. “He’s looking for his wife, and I—I was helping. We can all look together.” 
“Where?” Christopher asks. “There’s so much water. He could be anywhere.”
“He could,” Gabriella says, “But I bet he’s looking for you, too, huh?” 
Christopher doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah.” 
“So we’ll go to places he might look, and maybe we’ll get lucky and run into him. I heard people are gathering at a high school near here. Maybe he’s heard the same thing.” 
“And his wife?” Christopher asks, looking at the man next to her.
“Exactly, Gabriella says. “Maybe she’s heard it too.”
“Okay,” Christopher says, then frowns. “But how will we get there? With the water?” 
Gabriella smiles. “Look around you,” she says. “It’s getting lower. The water knows it doesn’t belong here, so it’s trying to get back to where it does belong.
“The ocean,” Christopher says.
“Exactly,” Gabriella says, and ruffles his hair. “And if we hadn’t grabbed you, it would have taken you right with it.” 
He tries to imagine it, what it would have been like to be washed out into the ocean with all the things that had been floating around him. He doesn’t think he’d have survived very long.
“Thank you,” he says, and Gabriella smiles, but he thinks she looks a little sad, too.
“Of course,” she says, then looks away. “Now, I think this water is getting shallow enough to walk through. You ready to go?” 
Buck isn’t in the first place they check, a high school just beyond the reach of the water. Christopher asks everyone he sees if they’ve seen him, but no one can remember a tall man in a pink shirt.
“It’s okay,” Gabriella says. “It’s okay, this is just the first place. There’s a lot of other places collecting survivors. We’ll find him.”
But Buck isn’t in the first place, nor is he in the second or the third, and it’s starting to get dark.
“What if we don’t find him?” Christopher asks.
“We’ll find him,” Gabriella says. “Or he’ll find us. I’ll bet he’s just as worried about you as you are about him.” 
“But what if we don’t?” Christopher asks. “What if something happened to him?” He swallows. “What if the water took him with it when it went back to where it belongs?” 
“Hey,” Gabriella says, crouching so she can look him in the eye. “You said he’s a good swimmer, right?” 
“Buck is the best swimmer I know,” Christopher says seriously. “We went to the beach last year and he raced my dad and he won.” 
“There you go, then, see?” Gabriella says. “I bet he’s somewhere out there searching, just like we are.”
But what if he’s not? Christopher wants to ask, but he closes his mouth so the words can’t come out. Because if he’s not, if Buck isn’t looking for him and he’s not in any of the places they look, then that means Buck is dead. Like his mom.
No, Christopher thinks fiercely. No. Buck can’t be dead. Because his mom is dead, and if Buck is dead, too, it means he and Dad are all alone. And that’s not fair. 
“Okay,” he says, a little quieter than before. “Where are we going next?” But before Gabriella can answer, he yawns.
“Tired?” she asks, and he shakes his head, but another yawn comes out.
“Come on,” Gabriella says, holding a hand out to him. “C’mere.” She’d been carrying him earlier, but he’d wanted to walk. Looking for Buck felt more real when he was walking. But it’s been a long day, and his legs hurt from all the swimming and the walking.
Gabriella picks him up again, and he tries to stay awake and look around him, he really does, but his head feels heavy and his whole body aches. His eyes start to drift shut, and when he shivers, someone—Benny, he thinks, the man looking for his wife—drapes a hoodie over him. It’s a little stiff from the ocean water, but it’s warm, and he falls into the kind of half-sleep that happens sometimes when they have lots of family over and it’s getting late, but he doesn’t want to go to bed yet, so his dad lets him stay on the sofa and doze and listen to the voices and laughter all around him.
There’s less laughter now, but there are voices—Gabriella, and Benny, and other people sometimes, probably other survivors. There’s a voice that’s familiar, at one point, that sounds like someone he knows, but he’s too tired to remember who it is. It makes him think of his dad, though, and Buck. It makes him feel safe.
He doesn’t know how much time passes before he wakes up again, still in Gabriella’s arms. He wriggles a little, trying to get down, but she shushes him. 
“It’s okay,” she murmurs, close to his ear. “Everything is okay. Just stay there.”
“Did you find Buck?” Christopher mumbles.
“I would have woken you up if I did,” she says. “Not yet. But there’s one more place left, okay? A hospital. We’re going there now.” 
“Is he gonna be there?” Christopher asks, his eyes closing again.
“You know what?” Gabriella says. “I bet he is.” She squeezes him just a little tighter.
She keeps walking, keeps talking to Benny, and Christopher drifts in and out. There are voices, more of them now, but he’s not awake enough to understand what they’re saying, and then something that sounds like a car engine, but it sounds really far away. He must be dreaming, because there aren’t any cars. They were all destroyed in the tsunami.
But he opens his eyes again, and they’re in some kind of van with a lot of other people. Gabriella is talking to someone sitting next to her, and through all the different voices in the car he can hear someone familiar. It sounds like—
The van stops, and Gabriella shields his head as they all climb out, people so close he can feel them as they push past. Then Gabriella moves, too, and they’re outside again.
“Okay, here we go,” she says. “Let’s go find—”
That’s when he hears it—a voice, shouting his name. His dad, over and over, calling out for him, then footsteps, and Dad takes him from Gabriella and he collapses against him.
“Oh, thank god,” Dad murmurs, holding him tight. “Oh, thank god.”
Gabriella says something, but Christopher isn’t really listening. He’s just holding on to Dad, leaning against him, listening to the familiar sound of his voice as he answers Gabriella.
And then he remembers. “Dad?” he asks, looking up at him, gripping Dad’s wrist. “Do you know where Buck is?” 
His dad looks at him, then laughs. It sounds a little weird, and Christopher thinks he might be crying at the same time. “Yeah, buddy,” Dad says, then points over at a big tent. “He’s right over there.” Christopher looks, following his finger, and sees Buck surrounded by Bobby, Chimney, and Hen.
“He’s safe,” Dad says, and squeezes him again. “You’re both safe. Everything’s okay.”
They’re the last words Christopher hears before he falls asleep again. 
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cld9writes · 6 months
Text
angry sex - han jisung x reader kinktober #3
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day three- "hate" sex
reader! afab!reader, fem!reader
word count! 1.6k words
tags! angry sex, unprotected sex (NO), teasing, riding
------------------------ *ੈ✩‧₊˚𖦹𖦹𖦹*ੈ✩‧₊˚------------------------
“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jisung!”
“Oh, right, I’m the asshole! You walk around like a fucking slut all day long and I’m supposed to-“
“A slut?!”
This argument has been going on for a good ten minutes. Since you’re in your own dorm, you decided to wear a tight tank top and short shorts to cool down after dance practice. 
You felt like your roommate had been a little too focused on you the whole day. He’s a gorgeous man, and you do have a bit of a crush on him, so it’s not like you exactly mind. But he’s just so brash about it. 
He started making his stares more obvious, but he made a snide little comment and it touched a nerve. 
“Those don’t cover much” feels very different coming from a man sitting on the couch.  no matter how much you like him. 
This escalated from little quips to now a full tirade. But as the annoyance settles deep down in your stomach, something else joins it. More than a little lust. 
It doesn’t make much sense. He’s being so rude and you’re genuinely mad at him. But there’s something about how he looks- the set of his jaw, the vein in his neck, the way he annoyedly pushes his hair back. It reminds you of your attraction to him, of the nights you’ve touched yourself wishing it was his fingers in you instead of your own.
You take a deep inhale through your nose, holding your breath and wishing the fluttering  in your pussy to stop.
He leans in close to your face, eyes still hard and cold. 
“It’s not my fault you-“
“It’s not my fault you hate that you wanna fuck me!” You snap, desperate for him to stop talking. 
His round cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and his indignant tone  turns defensive. 
“What?! What are you- what are you talking about?!” He snaps. You scoff and roll your eyes.
“Oh come off it! You can barely control yourself around me. I’m not a slut, you’re just a desperate bitch! The only reason you haven’t tried anything is because you’re too much of a pussy-“
He shuts you up with a kiss. It was a stupid, impulsive move, but it’s a welcome one. The pent up frustration fuels the kiss- the way he grips your hair, the way you bunch his shirt up in your fingers. 
You pull away briefly, both of you stunned by his decision. And both of you instantly recognize how much you want to do more than kiss. You practically fall into his lap, grinding against his groin as he positions you both on the couch. 
He tastes like cherry chapstick, and you can’t get enough of his pillowy, perfect lips. He arches his hips up to grind against your pussy. You can feel his growing bulge, feel how he’s desperate for the warmth of your dampening cunt. 
The beaks for air cease, both of you hungry to taste more of each others’ lips and tongue. His hand taps against the waistband of your shorts, non-verbally asking for permission to touch you. You try to guide his hand into your pants, but he just slips it down to your pussy above your shorts. 
He starts slowly rubbing you through your shorts and panties. He’s more letting you grind yourself down onto his fingers. He finally slips his fingers into your shorts, playing with your clit through your panties. He runs his fingers up and down the length of your slit, coating his digits in your essence. 
You moan into the kiss and he pulls back. 
“That feel good?” He asks. “You enjoying that?” You nod without thinking and he chuckles. “I told you you’re a slut.” He says it in such a gentle way that it angers you yet again. 
“Shut the fuck up.” You snap. “Just touch me properly, Jisung.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He says sarcastically. 
He sticks his fingers inside of you, thumbing your clit as he fingers you. He’s muttering insults and praises as he does so, calling you things like  “a slut, but such a well-behaved slut” or a “desperate baby.” You snap back, calling him “a wannabe fucktoy” and a “dog in heat.” The bickering makes it better, and this is evident by the juices running down the man’s wrist. 
His cock is still straining to get out of his sweatpants, and his fingers aren’t doing it anymore.��
“Jisung.” You sigh. 
“Hm?”
“Put it in me.”
“You sure? I don’t have a-“
“Put it in me or I swear to God I’ll fucking kill you.” You snap at him. 
“Fine, fine. Christ, you’re so fucking demanding. Up.”
You roll off him and pull your shorts off as he pulls his sweats down below his pelvis. He wasn’t wearing boxers, which explains all the sighing and groaning as you two barely humped. He grabs your wrist before you can take your panties off, pulling you back onto his lap. 
He just moves the soaked fabric to the side, the cold air sending a shiver down your spine. He grabs his erect cock and teases your hole with it. 
“Motherfucker-“ you hold the base of his dick and sit down, moaning as his girth stretches you out. The head touches deep, hitting a place in your stomach no one has reached before. Your legs shake from pleasure, and it only intensifies when he starts thrusting. 
It feels amazing. Your cunt is clenching tighter around him, instinctively trying to pull him in. You lean forward and attach yourself to his neck to keep from moaning. 
He can tell, and he wants to make fun of you for it. But as you suck hickeys and hit marks across his neck and collar bone, it’s as if he forgets how to speak. The warm tightness of your pussy certainly isn’t helping. 
Jisung has waited a while for this. It’s obvious in the way he’s breathing, grunting, clutching at you. He’s waiting for so long. Waited to taste your lips, to feel you from the inside. Every flirty little glance, every skirt that just happened to be a bit too short. Everything drove him closer to you, made him want to touch you more. And now he finally got his motherfucking chance. Sure, you’ll hate him after. But he finally got to stuff you full of cock and feel you collapse around him. And that’s worth it. 
You finally pull yourself together and sit up again, rolling your hips to feel the veins of his shaft anywhere you can. Jisung  pulls your shirt up over your chest, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as you ride him. 
“You’re such a fucking baby. You know that?” You tease. His teeth pinch in a bit and he smirks at the way you hiss. You  stop teasing and let yourself get lost in the feeling. His moans send vibrations through you, adding yet another type of stimulation. Fuck, he’s good at that. The way he plays with your tits  as his cock pounds into makes you throw your head back in pleasure. 
There’s not an ounce of regret in your body for this decision. The way his tongue feels, the way your walls squeeze around his cock, the sting of his hand coming down against your ass. Everything is so good, and ass the pleasure fills your head up like syrup, you almost forget you were annoyed at him. Almost. 
“Calling me a slut…” You groan. “When you were dying to stick it in me. You’re glued to my tots like a fuck-fucking baby after taking all that shit?” He spits you out and bites the crook of your neck. You whine, your insults catching in your throat. 
It pisses you off how he knows just what to do. That he somehow knew how sensitive your breasts are. That he knew about that sensitive spot in your neck. His body is flush with yours, not just physically, but psychologically. His teeth unlatch from your neck and he rests his chin on your shoulder, holding your hips down so you can’t move. 
“You’re such a big talker, Y/N. I could practically taste you soaking  through your panties during our little spat. Don’t say I was dying to ‘stick it in you’ when it took one kiss for me to get it done.” 
He snaps his hips up, a moan tearing out of your throat and cutting off your response. He’s fucking up into your rapidly, chasing deeper spots inside of you. It’s like he wants to reach your cervix, or at least trying to cum sooner. And he is. He wants to cum so badly. He wants your pussy to draw it out of him, to bust inside of you. He knows he shouldn’t, and more importantly that he didn’t ask, but he wants to. He wants to so so so so bad-
“Fuck me, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum Y/N I’m gonna cum-!”
You pull yourself off him at the last second, falling forward into his chest as he instinctively wraps his arms around your back. His thighs shake under yours as his orgasm wracks his body. 
You stay there together on the couch, trying to catch your breath. You don’t think about the cum that shot across the floor, the way someone could walk in at any moment. You just sit there huffing. Jisung laughs, taunting you between pants. 
“I… I told you… you’re a slut-“
“Shut the fuck up.”
------------------------ *ੈ✩‧₊˚𖦹𖦹𖦹*ੈ✩‧₊˚------------------------
I’m sorry I’m behind my schedule is actually evil omg. I’ll be fully up to date by Sunday. Sorry for wait guys <3
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moralesmilesanhour · 6 months
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my neighbor's a punk
summary: you move into a new apartment with a noisy neighbor. inspired by this prompt list! wc: 922 A/N: just wrote this for some practice. I'm getting better at writing longer drabbles, I think! As always feel free to reblog and leave your reactions in the tags or comments. As of the date this is being posted, my requests are also open! (pls check my pinned beforehand)
You had never seen a garden so beautiful.
Vibrant blossoms of yellow and orange greeted you as you hauled two medium-sized boxes carrying the last of your things through the entrance of your new apartment. Their fragrance wafted through the humid summer air, delighting you and confirming that they were, in fact, real. But for the past couple of days that you had been in the process of moving in, you’d never once spotted a gardener or seen the sprinklers turn on. Curious.
The modest apartment had only a couch to occupy the living room, which was currently still dotted with cardboard boxes. A freshly-ironed shirt and work pants lay neatly folded on top of one. You stepped over a few to get to the kitchen, where various unopened appliances were strewn about the counter. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, you made a note to finally put everything away in the cupboards tomorrow evening after work.
No TV meant your only sources of entertainment for the time being were your phone and your laptop. It was now evening, and you were slouched on your sofa in the midst of a harrowing ‘Game of Thrones’ episode when a violent guitar riff ripped through the air and made you jump.
These thin-ass walls…
Whoever was playing (very well, you might add) seemed to be next door, so it didn’t take long to follow the sound to the correct number. You knocked impatiently and rang the doorbell too, for good measure. It took a minute for the music to come to a halt before the sound of heavy footsteps approached the door and you heard it unlock.
Once the door creaked open, you weren’t sure where to look first.
Your eyes darted back and forth between the array of piercings on your neighbor’s face and dangling from his ears, the wicks styled to shoot out from his head like an explosion, and his bright red plaid pants before landing on a pair of large eyes set deeply within a dark, angular face.
Judging by the way his pierced brow quirked up in amusement, you weren’t the first to give him a weird look, and wouldn’t be the last.
You remembered how to speak.
“Oh, um- hey,” you began, “I live next door, and I heard you playing–”
The young man’s face lights up and he interrupts, “Oh, d’you like it? It’s a song I’ve been workin’ on for the past few weeks. Finally got the bridge down.”
You blinked. 
“I mean…it’s not bad. It’s great, even, but–”
“Say, I haven’t seen you around before,” he pointed. “You new here?”
The man spoke with a strong Cockney accent, you noticed, with a tinge of something else that made a couple of vowels run together.
“...Yes, I moved in two days ago,” you sighed. “Now that that’s out of the way, I was about to ask if you could maybe play a lil’ quieter? You’re very loud.”
The realization seemed to dawn on him that you weren’t here to applaud his sick guitar riffs, and he winced. You almost felt bad for disappointing him, but you had a show to binge.
“Ah shit, my fault. Got too used to playing on full volume after the last neighbor moved out,” With a hand placed over his chest, he promised, “Won’t happen again.”
You nodded with a tight smile. 
“Thanks. Goodnight,” you said as you turned to leave.
The next few days were quieter, though you could still hear the neighbor’s guitar through the walls at a much more manageable volume. Sometimes you would hear the man humming to himself in his baritone voice. Eventually, you were so used to it that you found yourself falling asleep to the sound.
One Saturday morning, though, you awoke to the peculiar sound of silence. Normally by now you’d be hearing the first few chords of…whatever the guy was working on, then he’d reach the end by mid-afternoon. Part of you wanted to check up on him, but reason held you back; you’d only spoken to him once. Maybe he was just taking an off day.
Unable to return to sleep, you decided to shower and take a walk outside while the air was still comfortably cool.
As soon as the early morning sun hit your face, a familiar head of hair came into view.
There stood your neighbor–band t-shirt and all–in the garden in front of the apartment. Watering the flowers.
Mystery solved.
“So you’re the reason the plants haven’t died yet,” you laughed, causing his head to snap up.
He grinned, and lifted his watering can proudly. “Sure am. Bring some color into the place.”
“I thought it was awful quiet around here,” you remarked. You toyed with the hem of your t-shirt. “How’s the, uh…song going?”
Something between delight and surprise graced his features and made him look boyish. 
He smiled, revealing a crooked front tooth as he replied, “Almost done with it, actually.”
There was silence for a beat, and the both of you shifted awkwardly where you stood. 
Suddenly, a lightbulb went off. 
“Mind playing it for me when you’re done?”
The tall man seemed about ready to run laps around the block at the suggestion.
Quickly setting his watering can down, he replied, “Thought you’d never ask, mate!”
He jogged his way around the perimeter of the garden and over to you. “Can I get your name while we’re at it?”
“Y/N.” You stuck out your hand, and he shook it.
“Hobie.”
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a Magical Girl and the justice league 1 (platonic)
Part 1 part 2 part 3
Tagged: @harpy-space @mxtokko @viviyene
I shall make a part 2 sometime for the other members is just cause this already took me long enough lol
Also I’ll probably make one but for the light
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It’s about a month after your initial adoption by Bruce that he knocks at your door one day
After you welcome him in your now adoptive father pokes his head in, a once empty storage room now full of personality and life
It makes him smile, especially as you you breathed a new sense of life not only here but also across the manor
As it turns out Superman, has practically been begging Bruce to bring you to the next Justice league meeting
And while Bruce wasn’t demanding you to go, he asked if you’d join (only if you were comfortable with it though) in the next few days
Safe to say you didn’t hesitate to say yes
Like fuck yeah your going, your not missing the opportunity to meet Wonder Woman…oh and the other ones
(Across the world several hero’s felt a chill go down their spine yet didn’t know why)
Each day you get more excited, your practically buzzing with excitement throughout the day and into the night
It gets to the pint that everyone kinda notices especially since your usually kinda stoic in the sense you control your emotions
It truly makes you seem like your age for once, bustling with energy and having a bright smile that makes your cheeks hurt after awhile
When he does take you (the others tried to convince him to let them come along he denied them) your extremely ecstatic
Your hand is slipped into Bruce’s, magical girl outfit practically sparkling in contrast to his grim and dark uniform
Safe to say it’s a culture shock to the rest of the league when the doors open to reveal you and Bruce
Y’all have the complete opposite aesthetic of the entire Batfam
You sit down, scooting your chair to a more comfortable distance near Bruce who hides a smile at the sight
Though the entire league is talking about serious stuff it’s obvious what their actually paying attention to
Your lightly kicking your feet under the table, Rigel curled around your neck and furiously taking note about what everyone says (lol)
You even colour code the entire transcript of the meeting
When the entire meeting is over and things have been discussed, Bruce is like “oh yeah this is my new kid. Say hi y/n” “hi” “let’s get this over with”
And then you have several adults crowding you looking at you with awe
Clark aka superman is the first to introduce himself, he reminds you of a golden retriever with how bright his smile seems to shine
He’s friendly and gentle, a certain enthusiasm in his voice as he lightly hovers above you till you use your powers to do the same
Bruce is brewing in misery as you, him, Hal and Martian man Hunter form a hovering squad
As he talks to you he kinda sends some slightly passive aggressive jabs at Bruce
Kinda salty his best friend didn’t fucking tell him how he adopted again, and that he didn’t respond for the 15th time to bring the family to his farm
He’s really happy the Wayne household has someone who’s as calm and level minded as you
God knows the amount of times he’s lost sleep wondering how Alfred keeps that house afloat
Thinks your outfits really fun and adorable, especially finds it cool that you can magically change it at will
He has a soft spot for small animals (he secretly befriended a few possums when he was a kid) so he loves Rigel
You haven’t told him that Rigel is an inter-dimensional god yet and your not sure he’d believe you
Definitely tries to convince you to meet his son and visit much to the chagrin of Bruce
Listen, Bruce likes Clark but he can be a bit overbearing for his and most of his families nature
100% will offer you a slice of his apple pie that Lois packed for him
Half the league doubles takes cause he’s never done that before and the last time flash ate it he was brooding in the corner
No matter the situation if he sees you he’ll give a polite little wave and smile even if it’s during a battle
Like once he and Luther were going at it but then you casually strolled by, both stopped gave you a hello and then right back into their fight
His wallet has pictures of Jon, Connor and Kara, and he’ll spend an hour talking about them
For April fools you buy him green rock candy as a joke and he eats it in front of lex
That leads to Luthor having a fucking panic attack now thinking the ONE thing that could seemingly kill him was now basically nothing to him
He finds it really funny if you change your outfit to look like a mini him cause it makes everyone (but especially Bruce) poute
When you find out that the only thing that separates his identities is a pair of glasses you end up not believing it
Until green arrow chimes in and is like “yeah that’s it”
Your silently wondering if people in metropolis just know he’s superman but don’t acknowledge it
Your betting on it with Flash and Aquaman
As a joke you begin calling him overpowered and a “Gary stu”. He’s so confused but doesn’t say anything
You sometimes go to him for writing tips for essays since he’s a reporter
And he absolutely helps you get an A without any effort
Lois and the rest of the family really want to meet you and he makes his fact very apparent
When your class trip went to metropolis he definitely does a fly by for fun
It makes you smile at how he makes the class erupt with cheers
Is definitely concerned for your safety but also your mental health because of the amount of stress you have over being the only one able to kill the “shadowmites”
He’s definitely glad Bruce has taken you under his wing and your basically safe wherever you go since you have some inate ability to befriend literally everyone by accident
He doesn’t really like you being friends with certain villains but as long as their not hurting you then he’s not complaining
Wonder Woman aka Diana Aka your favourite definitely catches on that she’s the favourite
And not to brag, she’s totally lowkey happy about it lol
She’s been your favourite hero since you were a kid since she was one of the only female ones
She reminded you of the magical girl cartoons you’d watch for your only bit of joy in the day
Thus you have a lot of respect for her
She finds it really cute that you look up to her so much
Especially since your such an amazing young mind with a kind heart
She doesn’t need her lasso to get that your telling the truth when you talk about basically abandoning your life to save others
100% tells you about themyscira and the Amazon’s whom she calls sisters
Definitely like everyone else finds your outfits really cute especially when she’s surprised by something new each time
Like the others she’s silently worried for your mental health but is at least happy you now have Bruce and his kids to help you as best they can
Maybe started a bet about what other villains you’ll end up befriending
Her bets are on Klarion since she has a feeling you’ll work whatever magic you did on Damien who’s similar in the fact that he’s a chaotic ball of anger
While meeting her you kinda inched your chair closer to her, she noticed and thought it was sweet
Bruce definitely pulls her aside as your talking to the others and explains that yeah “your the favourite” which makes her laugh at his kinda sour expression
At some point she places her tiara on you and takes a photo cause your super happy
She might be testing the idea of maybe taking you back home for a weekend cause she knows everyone would be really happy to meet you
Since she’s kinda immortal you go to her sometimes for history projects
She’s always happy to help especially since she really enjoys talking of all the change she’s seen over the years
It kinda makes her feel fuzzy that someone is interested since she kinda assumes most people find history boring
Definitely lightly teases you about using her as a source for your project lol
One day you show up with your magical girl outfit somewhat resembling hers and she’s gonna treat you like your her mini me for the day
And all Bruce can do is watch with the expression of “this is my life now. My kid is getting adopted by others now as well”
He is content though with how happy you are and how you don’t seem to ever not be able to bring a smile to others as well
She’s kinda iffy on you being friends with villains but after seeing them full on pause as you pass by she’s a little better with dealing with it
But she does worry that you might be influenced by their behaviour
Also she 100% can tell Rigel isn’t a normal Ferret and is the only one of the league to actually believe you
She’s not sure where he’s from but she trusts the white fur ball enough we’re she knows they’ll protect you
Flash/Barry Allen is sliding near you at the justice league table and leaving little post it notes with doodles and making funny face when no one’s looking
What can he say?, he’s good with kids and your not an exception to that either
He’s kinda like a fun uncle
The one who’ll pick you up and place you on his shoulders before running around base
Out the then all he’s kinda the most laid back of the bunch
Sure he can still get serious when the time calls for it but on the other hand he’s a chill guy
He’s also the most in touch with stuff than the others so when you reference something he’s like “I get it!”
While the others stare at him in confusion as you high-five him
Sometimes you like asking hims questions about his powers and y’all try to test it out
Bruce has had to stop him many times and put him in the figurative time out corner
He finds it fucking hilarious when he once walked In on your practicing and you had a giant battle axe as your magical girl weapon
Gives you several nicknames like “sailor moon” or “madoka”
Y’all definitely watch anime on your phone when no one’s watching
He likes messing up your hair only to see it go back into being perfect about a second later
Kinda is now tempted to go to the future and see what you do later on in your life
So he can then tease you about while your looking at him confused
You like to joke that he does shit too fast and he jokes back that your just two slow
By god Bruce is gonna kill him if he begs one more time for permission to gift you knockoff merch of your persona for the 50th time this week-
Pranks…just gonna say be careful cause he’s already on thin ice after the last time he pulled one
He likes telling you stories about his nephew and how proud of him he is
He finds your outfit pretty neat especially since you can change it by will whenever you want
Please be warned though that having anything yellow and red themed may be a bit iffy for him
Bruce probably warns about that beforehand along with not bringing up Barry’s mom
Probably finds it funny that your hanging out with villains n shit
Like especially since your kinda bow just like a neutral ground/entity
Finds it hilarious the juxtaposition of your aesthetic and personality vs big bad Bruce
Rigel is his lil buddy and likes curling up on his shoulder
Kinda gets cosmic vibes from the ferret though
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katasstrophy · 11 months
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I think everyone in the Bllk Fandom has agreed that everyone single guy would be intensely and stupidly obsessed when in love, but who are the biggest simps in your opinion and what is the simpiest thing they would do?? (Simp is used very affectionately btw)
nonnie, if they ain't simping, I don' want 'em ! tags. afab! reader. use of y/n once. suggestive themes in isagi’s. i think i use one bad word lol. kayla if you’re reading this the nanase one’s for YOU! 🫵
THE BIGGEST SIMPS OF BLUE LOCK (AFFECTIONATE):
—TOKIMITSU AOSHI
this hunk of a nervous wreck genuinely wakes up every day baffled by the fact that he gets to call you his romantic partner. it is beyond any semblance of logic he possesses why you chose to date him of all people — you asked him out, yet he was the one that almost keeled over from nervousness — and it regularly sends him down a neverending loop of self-doubt. your presence, however, soothes the brunt of that spiralling. it doesn’t stop his anxiety entirely, he knows that’s not how it works, but being around you dulls the noise in his head to a thrum he can manage, focusing instead on being in the moment with you. that’s why tokimitsu has the uncanny ability to spot you wherever you are, no matter the circumstances. he could be in the middle of an intense game with thousands watching from the bleachers or waiting near a busy intersection in shibuya to treat you to some umeboshi riceballs for your date, he’s so attuned to you, he’ll glance up and you’re there, cheering him on or giving him an enthusiastic wave with a grin that splits your cheeks apart, the sight making his heart beat erratically in his ribcage, this time not from nerves, but love.
—NANASE NIJIRO
this absolute sweetheart of a man is always talking about you, not that it ever occurred to him that he shouldn’t. he’s the type of boyfriend who finds a million ways to sneak you into the conversation while hanging out with his friends, completely turning the topic from him to you. a simple question of what were you up to this weekend? leads to an inevitable but hearty ramble of oh y/n and i went on a picnic back in kansai, and they made these super yummy wanpaku sandwiches- until basically everyone in his immediate circle can recount your life history. and nanase manages this so naturally, so effortlessly, that his friends don’t even notice they haven’t been told a single piece of information about how he’s doing until they draw a blank about anything regarding him, but can recall your great sandwich making skills and the promotion you recently received with great detail. on the occasion you go pick him up after late-night practice, his teammates frequently congratulate you on things you have zero memory of sharing. at your quirked brows, nanase only chuckles and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, as if to say i just can’t help myself when it comes to you. he really is your most ardent supporter.
—ISAGI YOICHI
you know those how men wanna be treated when their boys aren’t around memes? isagi’s stance towards your relationship is the furthest thing away from that. he’s open and honest with his affection for you and doesn’t give a rat’s ass about who happens to see him being horrendously smitten with you. he spins around with you at the airport every time you come to greet him home even though he knows it’s super cheesy and the paparazzi may be watching. he rests your chin on your shoulder at formal events, gently swaying your bodies as he hugs you from behind to cure his boredom. he flashes a cheeky grin when you ladle him with sweet pet names, cooing right back at you. his teammates tease and make fun of him mercilessly for it, but isagi’s quick to spit back an aw, not getting any good pussy lately? sorry for your loss, humbling them so nonchalantly you almost forget to smack him for it. it doesn’t deter him in the slightest as he hooks a long finger past the waistband of your pants to pull you closer, ushering you out so you can go home and watch the newest episode of your show together, leaving his gobsmacked teammates behind.
—BONUS: RAICHI JINGO
he has such that’s my wife! energy. raichi would love to show you off and rub it into anyone’s face that he scored the fucking jackpot with you, so everyone can go cry about it while he gets to hog all your attention lol he adores you.
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sprout-fics · 7 days
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Tell Me All My Bad Ideas
(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader) (Callsign: Fix)
Main Series: Snowblind
Rating: Explicit (MDNI) Wordcount: 4k Tags: Jealous Ghost, Mutual pining, Slowburn, Miscommunication, Minor original characters, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Imagining someone else during intercourse, General messy feelings Warnings: Heed the tags A/N: This is a small oneshot that takes place shortly following 'Mayday Mayday'
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You’re on the way back from the gym with Gaz when you’re approached. 
Gaz and you chat idly, in step with each other as you head back towards the barracks for much needed showers. There’s a thin film of sweat clinging to both of you as you bump shoulders with familiarity. The post-workout high hasn;t yet worn off from either of you, and you can’t help but preen a little at the new record you’ve set with the bar and Gaz as your spotter. You talk about dull things- the weather, what’s for dinner in the mess, and as Gaz teases you with a juicy bit of gossip he heard from the other side of base, a figure rolls off the wall ahead of you and clears his throat to get your attention.
Gaz’s voice cuts off just as you both pause, eyeing the man with curiosity. You recognize him. He looks different without his full loadout and bandaged arm, but the dusty brown hair and tall, lean stature are familiar. 
“Langley.” You greet, the name coming to you after a moment- the man who you’d helped carry to safety on the clusterfuck of a mission where your heli went down.
“Sergeant.” He greets you with a little cough, and you tilt your head because somehow he looks embarrassed. “A word?”
You glance at Kyle, who levies you a similar intrigued look before patting you on the shoulder and easing past the other sergeant. As he leaves, you see his clever smile hidden behind his water bottle.
“How can I help?” You ask amicably as Kyle vanishes behind the corner. 
Langley is smiling, but it’s evident there’s a little bit of nervousness hesitating behind his gaze. 
“I…wanted to thank you for your work in the field on that mission a few weeks back.” He offers after a small pause. “That was a hard op, and you made some good calls out there- not to mention you probably saved my life.”
“Oh.” You blink, feeling a small warmth at the praise. “I’m just doing my job. Glad we made it back.”
“Right.”
You think that might be the end of it, but Langley doesn’t move. 
“How’s the concussion?” You offer in the awkward pause that follows.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah it’s good.” Langley returns, and his eyes shift before he clears his throat again and focuses on you. “Listen, I…wanted to ask if you had plans this weekend.”
You blink. You blink again.
Oh. This makes sense now.
“I’m…not sure.” You return honestly after a pause. “I might be doing a training session for some of the recruits in field practice, but…” You watch as Langley deflates a bit, his smile wavering but his head still held high. 
“Can I let you know?”
“Yeah, yeah of course.” He offers, bolstered. “And ah, if you need to contact me, here’s my number.” 
You’re handed a small slip of paper with some digits scrawled on it, and hide your inward huff of amusement at the fact that the fellow officer came prepared.
“I’ll let you get to your shower- er, the rest of your day.” He finishes as you’re looking down at it, and eases past you. “See you around.”
His footsteps fade behind you, and you tilt your head in thought down at the phone number, contemplating. 
A date. You think quietly. It’s been a while.
Truth be told, you’re not really interested in dating. Aside from it being a generally bad idea to date your fellow officers, you haven’t found yourself particularly interested in anyone, Langley included. 
Well, that wasn’t entirely true- but the one person who you secretly wished would spend time with you was never going to ask you anyways. 
You sigh at that, tucking the paper into your pocket before resuming your path-
And nearly colliding with Gaz when you round the corner. 
“You nosey little-” You gasp as Gaz steadies you when you stumble, his grin crinkling his eyes. 
“Look at you, madame heartbreaker.’ He interrupts, and oh, he was definitely listening in. The tittle-tattle. “Got sergeant Langley wrapped around your finger, eh?”
You playfully shove at him, feeling your face warm, but you lack the words in which to defend yourself- choosing instead to continue towards the barracks with Gaz trotting behind. 
“Saw the pretty medic and couldn’t help himself.” He goes on, falling in step with your wide stride. “Poor bastard.”
“You think I’m pretty, sergeant?” You blink at Gaz doe-ishly, and Gaz snorts. 
“Not as pretty as me.” He shoots back, eyes twinkling, and that does finally make you laugh. 
“Yeah, you should drop out and work for Calvin Klein.”
“Exactly! Dunno why they haven’t scouted me yet.”
“They’re still developing their ‘desert storm’ collection.”
Kyle barks a laugh at that, which turns into a wheeze as you push the door open to the 141 common area. Soap is lounging on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table and an arm slung over the back of the couch. He raises an eyebrow at you both as you draw closer. 
“What’re you two ninnies on about?” He asks as Gaz plops down beside him, and wrinkles his nose at the smell of sweat. “You stink.”
Gaz ignores the comment in favor of shooting his mate a grin. “Fix got asked out.” He declares, and Soap’s eyes go wide.
“Yer’ kiddin.”
“Don’t sound that surprised.” You huff, taking the other couch and tipping the rest of your water bottle up. 
“You remember that fellow that came back from the heli-crash all bandaged up and moon-eyed?” Gaz goes on. “Had a bit of a wobbly lip when he got pulled into medical?”
“He did not.” You protest, but it falls on deaf ears. 
“The lad with the eagle tattoo.” Soap supplements smile broadening, and at Gaz’s eager nod; “Aye, what was his name…Langston?”
“Langley.” Gaz corrects. “Who just gave Fix his number and asked her about weekend plans.”
Soap’s eyes light up at that, and you pointedly ignore him in favor of watching whatever daytime television is on the TV. 
“Prolly fell to the ol ‘nurse Joy’ trap.” Gaz goes on, enjoying this far too much. “On the brink of death, getting saved by a beautiful woman and falling head over heels for her.”
“So you do think I’m pretty.” You shoot back, and Gaz laughs again. 
Soap is grinning when he looks at you. “Ye going to take him up on it?” He asks point-blank, and you hesitate. 
“I don’t know.” You sigh, folding your legs under you and getting comfortable. “I’m not really looking for anything right now, and it’s probably a bad idea.”
“What bad idea?”
The three of you turn towards the door, finding the massive frame of Ghost. Christ, you hadn’t even heard him walk up. 
Ghost eyes the three of you suspiciously, eyes dark beneath his simpler skull balaclava that he favors off the field. His voice is low, thick with accent as he awaits an answer. 
“To er…date a fellow officer.” Gaz offers at last, his humor gone as Ghost’s eyes land on him unblinkingly. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ghost’s fingers twitch. 
Ghost isn’t one for gossip- chatter of any kind for that matter. So you expect him to nod and leave it at that, but instead his eyes narrow just a fraction.
“Who?”
The silence is deafening.
“Langley.” You offer at last, turning fully towards your LT. “He asked me on a date. We’re different departments so it shouldn’t be an issue, but…”
You trail off. Ghost stares at you, eyes unblinking. You feel the weight of them pin you to the spot, and there’s an emotion there you can’t entirely discern. Ghost regards you for a long, long pause before finally tearing his eyes away. 
“Do what you want.” He offers at last, footsteps heavy as he disappears in the direction of his room, the door closing a little harder than usual. 
“...The fook was that about?” Soap asks at last, turning back to you, and your eyes rest on Ghost’s door. There’s something in your chest that aches a little, something you try not to feel but hovers delicately there anyways.
You’re not sure what you expected. You hate to admit it, but you kind of hoped Ghost would offer some sort of disapproval, or a protest, or even agree that it was a bad idea. Something to signal that maybe you shouldn’t be so quick as to give up hope on him. 
Instead the walls separate you, as they always do, and you’re left in the silence. 
“No idea.” You offer quietly, shoulders sinking as the TV drones on, and you trace the falling condensation on the cold edge of your skin. 
- - -
It is a bad idea. 
For whatever reason, you do it anyway.
Friday night has you dressed in civvies, jeans, boots, a somewhat nice jacket that doesn’t have bloodstains on it, and you wonder if you should borrow some makeup from one of the other female officers before you dig out an old tube of mascara and decide it's good enough. It’s not like you’re trying, and Langley asked you out after both of you had seen each other covered in blood anyways. 
He’s waiting at the base gate for you, smiles when you approach.
“You look nice.” He offers, and even opens the passenger door for you. It’s a gentlemanly gesture, and you admit you’re charmed by it.
The place you settled on is an Indian restaurant not far from base. It smells like spices as soon as you walk in, and by the time you get to your table your mouth is watering. As far as places go, it’s not white table cloths and fancy silverware, but you find you prefer it that way. 
“So how’d an American end up working with a bunch of Brits?” Langley asks conversationally as you wait for your food. He’s got one leg crossed, an arm slung over the back of his chair. He looks comfortable, or at least succeeds in keeping the appearance of such. 
“It’s a long story.” You offer with a smile. “Might take me all night.”
“Give me the sitrep.” He jokes. 
You give him the short story. Two deployments in the Middle east and Africa, a stint at a covert operations facility stateside, and then being plucked to land on the taskforce. 
“Wait, you’re CIA?” He asks, eyebrows raised. “Thought your sort was more the James Bond type.”
You want to tell him Bond was MI6- the same kind that rubs the wrong way on Ghost with their neverendless paperwork requests, but the sudden thought of the Brit has you pause, eyes softening.
Fortunately your food arrives in time to distract Langley. He pauses before he eats, and you watch with your fork on your way to your mouth the way he bends his head and prays. It surprises you. You didn’t figure him for the religious type, and when he catches you staring he looks a little bashful.
“Old habit.” He offers. “Picked it back up after the crash. Lucky to be alive, y’know? Figured I might as well thank him for it.”
You want to tell him it wasn’t God that saved his life. It was the two dead pilots and your own blood soaked hands that had stopped him from bleeding out.
You keep silent on that too.
You make simple conversation in the way most soldiers do- commiserating about food on base, about schedules, about the menial tasks you still haven’t escaped in officership, and eventually the conversation turns back to home. 
“Yeah my Ma keeps telling me ever since the crash I should go back home.” Langley tells you, rubbing at his neck sheepishly. “Find a nice girl to settle down with, find a job as a contractor or something.”
It’s a familiar story, one you’ve heard a hundred times. A housewife, kids, a suburban home, vacations to Disneyland in the brutal summer heat. An existence you’re in no way suited for. 
“What about you? Your family looking forward to seeing you back?”
You pause, eyes defocusing for a moment as you consider back home with your family, with the pressed linen tablecloths and too pristine kitchen counters.
“I don’t have a family.” You tell him blandly, and ignore the way hurt curls inside your stomach despite all the time that’s passed. 
“Oh.” Langley looks a little deflated. “I didn’t mean to assume. I just-”
“It’s fine.” You interject quickly, forcing a cheerful smile. You don’t tell him that you do in fact have family- just not the one he’s thinking of. The team of men you find yourself in the company of has grown far closer to you than any blood relative you’ve ever known, and you know there will always be a place for you here with them.
Fortunately the conversation moves on, and Langley manages to recover swiftly. By the third round of beers and the check you’re both buzzed and giggly, and you feel his boot gently nudge your leg under the table once, twice, a third time before you catch his eyes. 
Interested.
Something sour pulls inside your gut, a tickle of a warning that you really should listen to. It’s the same feeling you had that night you wandered into the downtown of DC and ended up in the backseat of a cab with a stranger, a whisper of something guilty and selfish for the thing you’ll never have.
It’s a bad idea.
Once again, you do it anyway.
“Getting mighty dark outside.” You comment idly, fluttering your lashes as you idly run a finger over the rim of your drink. 
“Mhm.” Langley hums, tipping the remainder of his beer back. “Might need a friendly escort back to the green zone, huh sergeant?”
You giggle girlishly, feeling the pleasant buzz of alcohol settle low and warm in your veins. “Are you volunteering, sergeant?”
Langley’s eyes sparkle at you. “What if I am?”
“How could I refuse such a kind offer?” You return coyly, tilting your head and flicking your eyes towards the door. It doesn’t take much for him to get the message, as he stands and gestures ahead of him with a respectful “Ma’am.”
Outside, you try not to think of how the starless night reminds you of the midnight where you first saw Ghost’s face.
It’s his bunk, you both decide. The privacy at yours is better, being in the 141 officers hallway, but you don’t want to risk running into a member of the team trying to sneak Langley inside. 
So your clothes end up on the floor of his bedroom as you taste the sour scent of beer on his lips, warm breath fogging against your own. 
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He murmurs huskily, hands roaming the swell of your ass beneath your jeans, dragging you closer as his mouth dips to the flesh of your neck. He’s got you pressed against the door, rolling his growing erection sloppily into the slot of your thigh as you work to unbutton his pants.
It feels good, the way his body rocks against yours. You forgot how nice it can feel just to have another body pressed against yours like this, warm and sultry with the growing scent of sex and sweat between you. Langley is clumsy, and you can’t tell if it's from nerves, liquor, or general unfamiliarity of your body. Even so, the low groan he gives you as you cup his length in his briefs is no less unwelcome, your hand nimbly finding the bareness of him and stroking as he huffs in your ear.
“Fuck, just like that. Yeah, that’s good- fuck.”
He rocks into your hands just as he presses his mouth to yours, slotting himself against you as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth- overeager, crude, but scratching an itch inside you that’s long gone unanswered. 
When you close your eyes, you try not to think about the eyes behind the mask that haunts your waking daydreams.
You end up on his bed, his head buried between your thighs as you clutch at the pillows. Langley fucks you sloppy with his tongue, hands gripping your thighs as he hums against your clit. 
“C’mon, c’mon, give it to me.” He pants, straightening to rub crudely at your clit, not really finding it before he goes back to your cunt. 
You’re both quiet. It’s late in the barracks but there’s still a chance of being caught, and you’re not fond of the rumors you might become the subject of if anyone hears you and figures out it’s you in his room. Even so, you force yourself to be just a bit louder, legs clenching even as your orgasm remains a distant thing. 
“Inside-” You slur at him before he can realize he’s not going to get you off. “C’mon, hurry.”
“Fucking drooling for it.” He huffs, sucking a hickey into your inner thigh that has you nearly kick your leg out in reflex. “Alright pretty thing, lemme just-” He crawls up the length of you, distracts you with a kiss as he fumbles inside his bedside table, fishing out a tinfoil packet.
You make a point to wiggle impatiently as he rolls the condom down, and when Langley notices he hums in satisfaction. 
“Yeah, like that do you?” He preens from where he’s seated between your legs, smacking the tip of his length against your clit suddenly, and you jump. He mistakes it for excitement, chuckling, and once more you close your eyes, trying not to imagine someone different where he’s bent over you. 
You make a little sound as he enters you, trying desperately to blot out the sensation of skeleton gloves skimming your bare skin and a low voice purring in your ear. Langley mistakes it for discomfort, slowing himself inside and peppering your cheeks with little kisses to ease the way.
He begins thrusting as soon as you force yourself to relax, groaning low and loud in your ear. The friction is good, needed, and you feel yourself slick and warm around him as he struggles to maintain a rhythm. But it’s sloppy at best, and even as you reach down and try to haul him closer, grinding up against him, it’s not enough. 
“Say my name.” He huffs in your ear, hot breath fanning over your cheek. 
“S-Steven.” You manage, voice low, brow pinched with pleasure. 
“Yeah, yeah that’s it.” Langley encourages, grinding into you and there, just for a moment, and gone again. 
“Steven-” You try again, rocking up into him, trying to get the right angle. “S-”
Simon.
Something pulls taut in your chest and doesn’t let go. You clench at the mere thought of him, gazing up into the ceiling where the vision of his amber gaze stares down at you. Hungry, possessed, utterly absorbed in the defiling of your flesh. You scrunch your vision shut, trying to chase him away, but it’s no use.
“Fuck-” Langley snarls, bucking unevenly into you as you grind up into him. “Are you getting close?”
You open your eyes, stare at the ceiling, and despite yourself you imagine him.
His massive frame bent over you, dark eyes burning down into your skin as he splits you on his cock, voice a low purr murmuring filthy praise in your ear. He hauls you flush against him, fingers entwined with your above your head, bending you to his whim until you go lax and boneless with pleasure in his arms. 
“Fix.”
And suddenly, you’re there, right there on the edge, breath caught in your chest as the sinful phantom of him presses flush against your skin, as the hard edge of the mask presses down into your forehead when you breathe in tandem.
“All mine.” He growls inside your desperate vision. “All fuckin’ mine, Fix.”
You come with a cry, just barely stifling his name, hissing the beginnings of it until it’s a desperate keen behind your teeth. Your cunt clamps down and you feel more than hear Langley grunt in surprise, hips jerking quickly as he chases his climax inside your fluttering walls that grip down hard on him. He thrusts once, twice, three times, body shuddering as a long, low groan pours past his lips and into your throat. 
“Fuck.” He hisses, fucking himself through it, rolling little circles as you come down, chest heaving and eyes fluttering as the vision fades. “Fuck that was good, goddamn-”
He collapses on top of you at last, spent, panting into your sweat slick flesh just as you struggle to find your breath. You toss an arm over your face, if only to shield your eyes from him as you compose yourself- lest he see the truth behind your gaze. 
In the hazy aftermath, Langley straightens off you, regarding your hidden expression dubiously. 
“You alright?” He asks, far too gently for what you deserve. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” You tell him instantly. “No, it was good. Just…” You swallow. “...catching my breath.”
“Oh. Good.” He offers as he rolls off of you, and you watch as he makes his way towards the bathroom, the light flicking on and illuminating the darkness of his bedroom. He comes back with a towel, and rather than offering to wipe you off he drops it beside your hand on the bed. You take it, scrub a little at the inside of your thighs just as you hear him drop the condom in the trash can with a satisfied exhale. 
“Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.” He tells you, and your chest feels taut still as you offer a murmur of agreement you don’t really feel. “But you should probably get going. Don’t want the MPs to catch us.”
“...Right.” You offer lamely, reaching for your clothes and hastily tugging them on once you’ve deemed yourself clean enough. You’re not really sure what you expected, and frankly you’re fine with a quick exit at this point. The possibility of staying and cuddling with your thoughts as distracted as they are seems ill-advised at best. 
“Hey.” Langley catches your arm as you reach for the door, and he turns you to him, pressing a lingering kiss to your open lips. “I had a good time. Lemme know if you want to do this again, yeah?”
Guilt festers deep and dark inside you, and you swallow it down with a forced, wobbly sort of smile you pray he can’t see in the dark. 
“Thanks Steven, I’ll let you know.” You murmur, and try not to hate yourself for what you’ve done.
The door clicks behind you, and you don’t look back.
You don’t expect to see him when you get back to the 141 barracks. 
He’s sprawled comfortably on the couch, the common room dark as the lights of the TV flicker on the white of his mask. He’s got the action movie he’s watching on mute, keeping it quiet for the rest of the team that’s asleep down the hall. When the door to the common room squeaks with your entrance, Ghost looks up just once to notice you.
“Past your curfew, sergeant.” He drawls, and you frown because for some reason he sounds annoyed.
“Put it on my file.” You shoot back, irritated in turn. You think that’s the end of it, passing behind him on the way to your room.
“Told you it was a bad idea.” He comments again just as you pass the couch, and you stop.
It itches under your skin, the need to snap at him in your frustration, in all your guilt and insecurity. You want to ask him why he cares, tell him you can take care of yourself, provoke him into telling you the thing you so desperately desire. 
“Goodnight, Ghost.” You say instead, quiet, defeated.
You walk down the hallway, away from him, and it isn’t until your door is closing behind you that you hear his voice one last time. Oddly gentle, almost apologetic.
“Goodnight, Fix.”
Almost. 
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mint-yooxgi · 8 months
Text
{12} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa, and slight Wooyoung)
Words: 9,104
Warnings: Clingy Wooyoung. I honestly think that's it lmao This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: So, I know it's been forever since I updated this, or at least, it feels like it lmaoo I really hope this chapter makes up for the wait! I think it's really cute and fun. I've got a lot of stuff planned going forward, and quite a spicy scene next chapter hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.
Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven
If you thought Yeosang had been clingy after the first time the two of you had had sex, Wooyoung is ten times worse. You can hardly go anywhere in the house without him following you around, or showing up beside you suddenly in order to practically cling off of your side. He even goes so far as to appear beside you in the tub, a cheeky grin pulling at his features as he holds a rubber ducky in his one hand.
The first time he had done that, you had let out a shriek in surprise. One minute you had been alone, sliding into the warm water with your eyes falling shut in bliss. The next, you had opened them to see him sitting across from you, smiling like a mad man in love.
“Hi, Angel.” He had waved that rubber ducky held in his hand so casually before giving it a small squeeze. 
The squeak it let out almost served to mock the irritation you had been feeling. Of course, Yunho and Yeosang were quick to appear in the bathroom after that, having heard you shriek and all.
“Don’t you, ‘Hi, Angel’ me! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” You had smacked his arm, chest rising and falling dramatically as you attempted to catch your breath.
“Oh, no! My Angel is suddenly having breathing issues!” Wooyoung all too eagerly leapt at the opportunity to wrap you in his arms
A blink, and you have him in a headlock, clear irritation on your face.
“Can I not be alone? For five minutes?” You shake him lightly, feeling how his one hand rests almost lovingly against your arm wrapped around his throat.
“Well, I see you two are figuring things out.” Yunho chuckles.
“I just want to take a bath in peace.” You sigh.
You can practically feel the way Wooyoung deflates in your arms, and you just know that that all too familiar pout of his is pulling at his features. 
“I just want to spend time with you, Angel.”
“And you can’t do so wearing pants?” Yeosang gives his brother a once over, clear distaste on his features.
“Like you did any differently!” Wooyoung counters, still being held in that headlock by you.
That’s when you realize: oh, yeah, you’re naked, too.
That rubber ducky gets thrown in the direction of both Yunho’s and Yeosang’s heads. “Get out!”
“It’s nothing we haven’t seen before, Petal.” Yunho chuckles, easily catching the rubber ducky in his hand.
“I don’t care!” You begin tossing more small items in their direction while shoving Wooyoung out of the tub. “Privacy is privacy, and I value mine!”
“Alright, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles, his shoulders shaking lightly as he grabs Wooyoung by his ear before the younger male can hop back into the tub with you. “We’ll leave you be.”
“Thank you, Yeosangie.” You return his smile with a relieved one of your own. Crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot them all a look. “No weird demon magic, or spying through the mirrors thingy, either.”
“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Yunho hums, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Not even a moment later, the three males disappear from the room, leaving you to your thoughts once again.
At least you managed to get some time alone after that. However, Wooyoung was insistent of spending almost every waking moment he could with you. For two solid weeks, he would always be the one sitting beside you when you were eating, and somehow, he would manage to worm his way into your lap while you were reading in the library. He’d follow you around the house like a lost puppy, and nearly fight his brothers every night to be the one to sleep in your bed with you.
Finally, one night, you managed to convince him to give you some space. You dragged both Mingi and Seonghwa into your room before Wooyoung could appear and kick one of them out. Comfortably, you rested in bed, a male on either side of you, and just as you were drifting off to sleep, a weight suddenly laying on your chest had your eyes flinging open.
“Really?” Your bloodshot eyes bored a hole into the top of Wooyoung’s head as he clung onto you from overtop of your blankets.
“Wooyoung, you’re being too much.” Mingi sighs.
“If My Angel had a problem with it, she would say something.” Wooyoung replies, matter of factly.
“I have been begging you all week to let me breathe, Wooyoung.” You manage to bring a hand up to rub at the bridge of your nose. “We can’t always be attached at the hip.”
“Why not?” He pouts, staring up at you with those big, brown eyes of his.
“Wooyoung,” It’s Seonghwa who speaks this time, and at one look from him, the younger is shrinking in his spot. “Don’t make me call Joong.”
“Fine.” Wooyoung sighs, dejectedly slinking off of you, and off of the end of the bed.
Wooyoung slowly begins to make his way to your door, purposely dragging his feet. He glances over his shoulder, the look of a wounded animal resting on his features as he pleads with you silently to ask him to say.
“Goodnight, Wooyoung.” You say, somewhat pointedly as you turn to curl yourself into Mingi’s side.
The sound of your door clicking shut is the only response you get, and for some reason, even you can sense the way Wooyoung is surely trudging down the hallway defeatedly.
Now, as you rest on your bed the very next day, you find yourself alone at last. The only person in the room with you is Kuroo, and he rests curled up in a little ball on top of your Snorlax beanbag chair. You swear you can almost hear soft little snores coming from that little ball of black fluff as you turn the page of your book. 
Finally, you have some peace and quiet.
Most of the other guys have been pretty good with you lately. Reluctantly, they’ve allowed Wooyoung the pleasure of clinging to you for the first few days after you had entered the dance studio of your own free will. Luckily, though, they’ve had your back more often than not. It seems last night might have been the final straw, for you haven’t heard anything from Wooyoung today.
A first in over two weeks.
Of course, you opt to hide out in your room, just in case. As much as you love spending time with him, he has been a little overbearing lately. You just want a breather. Plus, it’s not fair to the others that he gets to monopolize all of your time. You still have yet to see Seonghwa’s tailor shop since the incident, and if all goes well, you plan on visiting him there later today. For now, you just want to enjoy the peace and quiet solitude can bring.
About another hour passes by like this, with you simply reading alone in your room. That is, until you see a little black fluff jump onto the bed with you.
“Oh, hello, Kuroo,” you coo, immediately bookmarking your page and smiling down at the little cat crawling up from the end of your bed. The instant you place your book beside you, he’s nuzzling against your hand, blinking up at you with wide eyes. “How’s my little handsome fella today?”
A coo is all you receive back, Kuroo pushing his head harder against your hand.
“Oh, come here, you.” You chuckle, picking him up from beneath his front arms, and pulling him on top of your lap. “Aren’t you just the cutest!”
A happy chirp greets you this time, Kuroo practically climbing up your body to begin rubbing his face all over your neck and jawline.
That’s when you notice another pair of golden eyes still staring at you from on top of your Snorlax beanbag.
Your grip tightens around the black cat in your arms.
“Alright, Stinky,” you begin to move off of the bed with ‘Kuroo’ held tightly in your grip. “You have impeccable timing, Little One, because it’s time for your bath.”
The cat freezes in your arms, but only for a moment. A loud complaint is soon filed by Not Kuroo pretending to be the real one.
“Ah-ah, don’t be a little stinker,” you shake your head, managing to scruff him. You pull him off of you, shifting your arm to the side as you hold him tightly in your grip. “And don’t you dare try and claw me like the last time.”
There’s a false cheeriness to your tone as you glance down to see Not Kuroo almost curling in on himself while being held by the scruff of his neck. He glances up at you with pleading eyes, only to meet your overtly tight, albeit friendly, smile.
The two Kuroo’s lock gazes, and the one in your hand shrinks even further in on himself.
Entering the bathroom, you march right over to the tub. The instant you turn the faucet on, Not Kuroo begins wiggling in your hold to escape.
“Come on, Stinky, none of that.” You lift him so you’re eye level. “Don’t you want to be a good boy for Your Queen?”
At the way you quirk a brow, Not Kuroo immediately stops squirming.
“I think the water should be the perfect temperature by now,” you smile, somewhat maliciously.
If this doesn’t teach him a lesson, you don’t know what will.
You don’t even bother to check the temperature as you dunk Not Kuroo beneath the rushing stream. You can feel the icy chill on the tips of your fingers, but you hold tight, submerging him for a good thirty seconds to ensure he’s soaked by the time you pull him out.
Turning off the faucet, you don’t even bother to grab a towel as you exit the bathroom. All the while, you continue to hold Not Kuroo by the scruff of the neck, water dripping in a trail behind you as you head towards the game room.
The moment San notices you enter the room, his attention is on you. His gaze darts from your overtly cheery expression to the soaking wet cat held in your hand.
Both Jongho and Mingi burst out laughing.
“Where’s Hongjoong?” You ask, tone dripping nothing but sweetness.
The cat in your hand tenses.
“He went out to feed with Yunho and Yeosang.” Jongho informs you, a knowing grin pulling at his lips as he stares directly at the cat in your hand.
A long sigh escapes you.
“What happened?” Mingi quirks a brow, looking between you and the cat.
“Stinky boy needed a bath,” you reply, lifting the cat so you can stare directly into his eyes. “Isn’t that right, Wooyoung?”
The cat’s mouth falls open, and in the blink of an eye, you’ve tossed him in the direction of his brothers. Wooyoung takes the liberty to shift mid-air, water droplets flinging off of him and onto the surrounding males.
“Hey! Watch it, Woo!” San flicks some of the water droplets off of his arm.
San gets completely ignored in favour of Wooyoung attempting to stand back to his feet and go after you. Only, he doesn’t get very far, as he sees you practically looming over him while he rests on his knees.
“I just wanted a day.” You sigh, rubbing at your tired eyes. “A day without you trying to magic your way into monopolizing all of my time.”
“Angel-“
“It’s been two weeks Wooyoung.” Your sharp gaze meets his own, his eyebrows drooping dramatically. “Two weeks.”
“You have been a bit much recently, Woo.” San chimes in.
“Like you’d be any different!” Wooyoung rounds on San.
The elder simply raises his hands in his own defence.
“I have asked you repeatedly to give me space, and you have not.” There is nothing but irritated disappointment on your features as you sigh. “Do you think posing as Kuroo works in your favour right now?”
A pointed coo from the real Kuroo as he walks into the room has Wooyoung’s eyebrow twitching.
“I just wanted to spend time with you,” his voice is but a whisper as he looks down at his hands.
“I understand that, Woo.” You crouch in front of him in order to get him to meet your gaze. “But you have to understand that I also value my downtime. We’ve been spending almost twenty-four hours with each other every day for a little over two weeks. That’s not fair to me when I’ve asked you for a little breathing room, nor your brothers. Do you not think that they also want to spend some time with me, too?”
“They haven’t said anything…” he mutters.
“We’ve tried.” Mingi grumbles out a response, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You have to understand that there are eight of you, and only one of me. I cannot be in multiple places at once, and you can’t always hog me to yourself.” You go on to say. “I don’t mind a day here or there where it’s just us, but you’ve got to learn that me saying that I need some time to myself, or me asking you to give me space does not mean that I don’t want you anymore, or that I don’t love you, or that I never want to see you again.”
The whole room is silent for the moment, save for the slow, consistent drip of droplets that continue to fall from the ends of Wooyoung’s damp hair.
“Okay.” His voice is small as he continues to kneel before you.
A blink, and you’re pointing at the other three. “I count you all in this, too.”
“We know, Baby.” San smiles faintly, a certain reminiscent gleam in his eyes.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you nod once at them, moving to exit the room.
“So, which was worse?” Jongho moves beside his brother kneeling on the floor, purposely speaking loud enough so that you can still hear. “Being a drowned rat, or a dead fly?”
Your eyebrow twitches and you freeze halfway through the door.
A loud shushing sounds behind you, followed by the sound of frantic movement.
Slowly, you turn to look over your shoulder. Both of your eyebrows are currently raised in disbelief as you see Wooyoung half moving to put Jongho into a headlock.
“Do I even want to know what that’s supposed to imply?” You look between the two youngest, one of which is wearing a shit eating grin.
“Don’t you worry, Angel-“
“Remember that time you thought a fly got into your room?” Jongho’s eyes gleam with a twisted sense of amusement.
Your brow furrows, body fully turned back towards them for a moment. You notice how the two others opt to remain silent, watching on with a sense of glee shining on their features.
“A fly?” You tilt your head slightly, resting your hands on your hips as you try and recall the memory. “Oh, yeah! That was-“ your breath hitches in your throat as you turn your suddenly sharp gaze towards Wooyoung. “That was you?”
It had been during the second week at the start of this whole fiasco. You had just gotten out of the shower and had finished changing back into your moping attire for the evening when you had heard a fly buzzing around your room. You didn’t even clue in that it could have been Wooyoung after learning of his powers, considering it happened so long ago. Besides, you had other things on your mind, like how you were going to escape this ‘hotel’ you had seemingly been held captive in.
Of course, you weren’t having any sort of fly in your room, and instead of calling one of the guys for help, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Literally.
Besides, it’s not like you were really on speaking terms with them at that point.
So, rolling up the closest thing you could find, which just so happened to be a magazine Jongho had left for you that day, you decided to go fly hunting. A lucky smack, and the fly was upside down, legs twitching in the air before being scooped up and dropped outside onto the balcony.
Oddly enough, Jongho was the one who came to check on you after hearing the noise you had made by smacking the fly. Now that you think about it, of course.
“I can explain.” Wooyoung immediately lifts his hands in his own defence.
“So, you shifting into animals to spy on me isn’t a new thing?” You sigh.
“It’s not like I’m the only one who did it!” Wooyoung attempts to counter, only for Jongho to casually start walking away from him, an innocent look pulling at the younger male’s features.
“Why does this not surprise me?” You shake your head, moving to exit the room in the next moment.
“Wait! Angel!” Wooyoung scurries after you, managing to catch you halfway through the foyer. “I’m sorry!”
“Wooyoung-“
“It was stupid of me to do those things,” he continues, practically clinging off of you as you attempt to continue to make your way to the opposite side of the house.
“Wooyoung-“
“I promise I’ll never do them again,“ he slides down your body, practically clinging onto your one leg with every step you take.
You sigh, half dragging him across the floor as he desperately holds onto your ankle. Your clothes begin to become damp from the water still dripping off of him. “Sunshine-“
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”
“Wooyoung!” You stop just outside of Seonghwa’s tailor shop, noticing the elder male look up from whatever he’s working on from within.
Only, from the way Wooyoung continues to babble at your feet, grovelling with every word, you let out another sigh. Pleadingly, you turn to look at Seonghwa through the glass of the door, begging him silently to help you.
A blink, and Seonghwa is staring down at Wooyoung from the open door with a scrutinizing gaze.
“Wooyoung.” The elder says the younger’s name, quite pointedly at that.
“I just wanted to spend time with you, Angel.” He pleads for you to understand, his eyes wide as he looks up at you.
“I know, Woo.” You sigh. “I’m not mad. In fact, I’m more upset at Jongho right now for essentially pulling a San.”
“Hey!” A loud complaint sounds from down the hallway from the elder male.
“Marshmallows.” You call back, which immediately shuts him up. Then, you’re turning your attention back to the soaked male clinging to your leg. “Besides, we just agreed that you were going to give me space.”
“But-“
“Should I tell Joong to come back early?” Seonghwa mentions casually. “We all know the consequences of not respecting Our Queen’s boundaries.”
This has Wooyoung immediately back on his feet, straightening out your shirt for good measure.
“I’m not disappearing, Woo. I can promise you that.” You pat his arm lightly. “Now, go apologize to Kuroo for impersonating him while he was in the room.”
“Fine.” He sighs, trudging back down the hallway.
“And go wrestle your younger brother for being a shit disturber, or something.”
This has him immediately perking up, a sly grin tugging at his features. A quick turn from him, and he’s shifted to place a kiss onto your cheek before racing back down the hallway once more.
A shriek in the distance is all you hear that Wooyoung is most certainly doing something to get back at Jongho right now.
Turning back to face Seonghwa, an amused grin pulls at your lips. You notice he already wears one of his own, you shaking your head lightly while smiling to yourself. At least that seems to be dealt with now.
“May I come in?” Your inquiry is nothing short of sweet as you step towards Seonghwa.
“Of course, My Divine.” His answer is instant as he holds the door open for you. “Join me any time you’d like. You never have to ask.”
Gently, you place a kiss onto his cheek as you walk passed, letting that serve as your answer. Briefly, your eyes take in the familiar sight of his tailor shop, many different memories flooding your mind.
“What are you working on?” Your gaze catches on a bust in the centre of the room, different than what you’re used to.
“Well,” the soft sound of the door closing echoes throughout the room as he walks over to you. A blink, and he’s wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you flush against his chest as he stands behind you. “My Divine requested corsets for all of us, so I thought I should work on those today.”
Your hands come up to rest over his arms, leaning further into his touch as you relax into him. “Whose are you working on right now?”
“Yeosang’s.” He replies, and you both shift your eyes to look at the bust before you.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you fully take in the detail of the corset before you. It’s a light cream in colour, with golden detailing along the seams. The style is over the shoulders, the placement of the fabric appearing as if the corset is layered. The light colour, combined with the almost intricate detailing of such a simple design has your heart fluttering at the mental image of Yeosang wearing such a thing for you.
“It’s beautiful, Hwa.” You breathe, eyes continuously taking in every minute detail
“I’m glad you like it.” He chuckles, burying his face into the side of your neck.
“Have you made any others, yet?” You turn slightly in his arms, subconsciously tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.
Seonghwa hums in response, “I’ve made yours.” A pause. “And mine.”
Subtly, your fingers press a little firmer against his arms.
“Would you like to see?” There’s an undertone of excitement to his inquiry, along with a hint of nervousness.
“I would love to.” You smile, managing to turn your head to place a kiss against his temple.
Parting from you somewhat reluctantly, Hwa disappears off to the side, pulling out two separate busts. He places the first one beside Yeosang’s, but the other, he purposely hides behind his back for now.
“This one is mine.” He says, motioning to the newly placed corset resting beside Yeosang’s own.
A look of complete wonder rests on your features as you take in the detailing of the corset before you. It’s a bit simplistic in design, but still beautiful. The black material only serves to cover his lower torso, appearing to rest just below his bust. Intricate silver leaves are embroidered on the fabric, silver stitching lining the seams.
For a full minute, you do not speak. Instead, you cannot tear your vision away from the corset before you, your mind swirling with images of what Seonghwa will look like wearing such a piece of clothing for you.
You swallow thickly, you lips parting, “It’s beautiful.”
It’s hardly noticeable, but his shoulders seemingly sink in relief at your words. “I’m just glad you like it.”
“I can’t wait to see you in it.” Comes your earnest reply, shifting your gaze over to meet his own.
“Well, if you like those, then I’m now certain you’ll love your own.” The corner of his lips quirks upwards as he steps aside to reveal your own corset to you.
A gasp escapes you as your hands come up to cover your mouth. You can hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears as your eyes go wide, nothing but excitement and love flooding your veins.
Before you rests one of the most intricate corsets you have ever seen in your entire life. The base is pure white, golden threads running throughout the fabric. Embroidered florals and leaves rest along the bodice, while the seams are lined with more of that striking gold. It’s strapless, with a slight sweetheart neckline at the top.
The exact inverse to his own corset’s design, but almost the exact same colouring to Yeosang’s.
“Seonghwa,” you manage to lower your hands as you meet his somewhat nervous gaze. “I love it!”
A radiant smile is immediately taking over his features. “You do?”
“Of course I do!” You take a step towards him to inspect the detailing of the corsets closer. “These are all incredible! Did you hand stitch these?”
“It took me some time, but I finally found a pattern I thought could suit us.” He shrugs off your words casually.
“You mean to tell me that you embroidered these yourself?” You lips part in awe.
“If it’s for someone important to me, I make all of the patterns myself.” He nods, averting his gaze somewhat shyly.
A few more steps, and you’re in front of him, cupping his cheeks gingerly in your hands.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” You gently guide his gaze to your own.
His lips twitch upwards in the corners, a warmth beginning to bloom beneath your hands and upon his cheeks.
“My Divine asked, and I am more than happy to deliver.” He whispers.
Again, you place a kiss upon his cheek.
“They’re all going to be matching, aren’t they?” You smile, turning to face the corsets once more.
“In one way or another, ours will all bear some resemblance to your own.” Seonghwa confirms, wrapping his arms around you from behind for the second time this day.
“Something tells me you have some idea when we’ll be wearing these.” You tease, poking his arm lightly.
“I do.” He hums. “Your coronation ceremony.”
Your body goes still in his arms, “Uh…”
“Don’t worry, My Divine,” he chuckles. “That’s still quite some time away.”
“But there will be one at some point.” You respond.
“At some point, yes.” He confirms, and you can hear the amusement in his voice. “We still have to officially crown you as our Queen, you know.”
“Right,” You nod a few times slowly. “I guess with all that’s going on lately, I forgot about that little detail.”
“Well, it’s not quite a little detail to us.” He grins. “We’ve been thinking about it far longer than you could ever imagine.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” You tease, leaning further back into his chest.
“I was hoping for that dress to be what you wore for the ceremony, but unfortunately it seems that fate had other plans.” Seonghwa’s words are low as he exhales disappointedly.
This time, you tense.
“Seonghwa, I-“
“Wasn’t it you who told me to stop apologizing for the things that we can’t control?” He’s quick to cut you off, turning you around so that you’re facing him. Gently, he grasps your chin in his one hand, holding your gaze with his own. “All that incident told me was that I could make something better. Something truly worthy for you, and I think I already have.”
Your eyes dart beside you, almost searching for that corset that you know is just resting behind you for the moment.
“Yes, I decided to approach things from a new angle. Starting with those corsets have breathed new life into my designs.” He smiles, shifting his hand over to cup your cheek. “I know we have discussed it before, but it is important for me to say it again now: I do not, and I will never blame you for what she did. Inside of these walls, out there,” his eyes dart to the hallway, “Anywhere, or for anything for that matter. I don’t want you thinking that I do. We’ve had our disagreements in the past, but please, My Divine, never believe I would ever think for a single second that you are at fault for what she has done. I am simply glad you are safe, and most importantly, still alive.”
Your expression softens, and you find yourself lifting a hand up to rest on top of his own over your cheek. Leaning into his touch, your eyes flutter closed.
“I appreciate that, Hwa,” you breathe. “Know that I don’t blame you, either. What she did to me, to us, does not rest on your shoulders. I know you tend to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong, and if you’re still having doubts, I will be here to ease them all from your mind.”
For a moment, nothing more is said between the both of you. Instead, you opt to revel in this silence, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, and as you both cradle each other so gently in each other’s hands, you both know that everything will be okay.
“So,” a mischievous glint begins shining within your gaze as your eyes dart beside you once again, “Can I try it on?”
Ten minutes later, and you find yourself standing directly in front of that same three way panelled mirror as the very first time you entered his tailor shop. Seonghwa rests behind you, tying off the last string to the corset before fluffing out the skirt of the dress he’s temporarily paired with it.
Finally, he takes a step back to admire you.
You hear the hitch in his breath before you even lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror. Though, this time when he steps up behind you to gently place his hands onto your hips, you don’t tense.
“How you become more beautiful every time I look at you escapes all sense of logic and reason.” He breathes out, the ghost of his breath tickling the side of your neck.
The giggle you give him in response is music to his ears.
“You never seem to hold onto logic whenever you’re around me.” You tease, smoothing out the front of the skirt you’re wearing.
“Maybe I don’t want to.” He places a tender kiss against your neck, right above your racing pulse. “You look breathtaking, My Divine.”
A bashful smile pulls at your lips, your heart racing in your chest. “Thank you.”
Slowly, Hwa makes his way to your front, trailing his hand delicately along your side as he does so. You can feel his gaze roaming every inch of your bodice as he comes to stand before you, his eyes dark, yet calculating.
“Are you comfortable? I didn’t do it too tight to begin with, but I can still make adjustments if need be.” He comments, glancing upwards briefly into your eyes.
“Everything feels fine, Hwa.” You assure him. “I am quite comfortable right now, and I mean that in more than one way.”
His eyes flash black, hands smoothing down your sides in a tender caress. He smiles. “I’m glad.”
“I mean it, Seonghwa.” Gently, you take his hands into your own, stepping down from that little platform in order to be closer to him. “I know you’ve been cautious this whole time since I entered here today of overstepping boundaries again.” The way you can feel his hands tense the slightest bit in your hold from your words says it all. “You don’t have to worry about that, anymore. You can touch me, Hwa. I promise I won’t run away this time.”
There is nothing but absolute adoration shining behind Seonghwa’s eyes as he meets your own. A love that you can feel in the way he gently squeezes your hands in his own. Even more so when he leans forward to place a tender kiss onto your forehead.
“Believe me, My Divine,” he keeps his voice low as he pulls away only to lean his forehead against your own. “You don’t realize how often my thoughts swirl with my desires for you. I’d just rather wait until after your coronation to rip this corset off of your body and take you in every and any way that you desire me to.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, “Oh.”
Seonghwa smirks. “Yes, ‘oh’.”
“Well, I might request that the corsets don’t get torn to shreds if we can help it.” You giggle. “Seems a waste to do so to such beautiful pieces of clothing.”
“I can always make more.” He quirks a brow.
“But none of them would be the first.” You rest your hands upon his shoulders. “They wouldn’t hold the same meaning.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he sighs, taking a small step away to admire you once more. “One of these days, I’m tearing one of my designs right off of you, though.”
“Something tells me you already have something in mind.” You grin knowingly.
“I’ve got a few things.” He hums, grinning right back.
Your eyebrows raise in amusement as you close the distance between the both of you once more. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers delicately lacing through the hair at the back of his neck.
“I’ll model for you anytime, Mars,” The words are but a sultry whisper on your lips, eyes hooding over as you stare deeply into his. “You just let me know the time and place.”
“Don’t give me even more ideas, My Divine,” His voice is but a low rumble as he pulls you flush against his chest. “You already know how hard it is for me to control myself around you.”
You lean into him closer, lips nearly ghosting his own.
His breathing deepens, hands tightening around your waist.
“Then, how delectable it will be when I finally let you indulge.”
A shudder caresses his spine, nothing but a low growl escaping his lips. 
Again, you giggle, pulling away from him with a vibrant smile on your lips. Turning slightly, you face the mirror beside you.
“I do like the style of this dress, though.” You say, acting completely oblivious to the raging storm of desire you’ve just ignited within Seonghwa who is barely controlling his breathing while standing right beside you. “You just had this laying around?”
“Believe it or not,” his voice is a little strained as he attempts to calm himself down, “I’ve had quite a few things already made for you for some time now.”
This piques your interest. “Oh?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time making things for you, My Divine.” He clears his throat lightly, straightening himself. “Yunho isn’t the only one with you as his muse.”
Your heart warms, a loving smile tugging at your features. “I am glad to be able to inspire you so.”
A tender smile in response is all that you get.
“Does this mean you still have all of those dresses from that first dinner?” You tilt your head, nothing but curiosity reflected in your eyes.
“I do.” He nods once in confirmation.
A moment later, Seonghwa has moved off to the side, pulling a curtain back to reveal a row of dresses hanging delicately along a rack. Familiar dresses. The only one that’s missing is his.
Realization crosses your features, those all too familiar mental strings flashing in your mind. 
“You made all of them. Not just for me, but for them, too.”
His lips twitch upwards in the corners, “They told me what they wanted, and I did my best to bring their visions to life.”
You step towards the rack, gazing at the dresses akin to how you looked at them the very first time you saw them. Delicately, you pull each one out to take in the full detail.
“Of course Wooyoung would make his a wedding dress,” you chuckle, looking over the beadwork of the princess style ballgown.
“You can’t blame the man,” Seonghwa chuckles along with you. “We were all eager for you to finally come to us.”
“Believe me,” you meet his gaze, moving on to the lavender gown next. “I know.”
Again, you pull out the satin material, noticing how the thin straps give way to a very low back. The triangle cups on the front before the bodice begin also leave no room to the imagination.
“I do love the style of this dress, but there was no way I was going to wear it back then.” You gently rub the smooth material between your thumb and forefinger. At the mildly confused look Seonghwa gives you, you’re quick to continue, “Open invitation to stare at my chest; my boobs would have been practically falling out.”
Seonghwa nearly tumbles over while standing upright.
“I’m not about to go to dinner with men that I don’t know with my chest on full display.” You joke.
“We would have been respectful!” Seonghwa immediately attempts to defend both himself and his brothers.
“Right.” You snort out a laugh. “And Yeosangie isn’t a boob’s guy.”
The tips of Seonghwa’s ears being to burn bright red.
“In his favourite colour, no less.” You hum, clearly amused. “Granted, he’s much more subtle than some of your brothers. Mingi isn’t very good at hiding when he’s staring at my ass, his gaze can be quite intense. Thinks he being subtle, too.”
“I’ll let him know.” Seonghwa clears his throat.
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” you turn to meet Seonghwa’s gaze briefly, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s nice to know I’m wanted.” You turn back to the row of dresses. “Though, maybe keep the eye-fucking for when we’re not in public, yeah?”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Seonghwa grins, a small chuckle escaping him. “Though, I can’t promise you much.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” you shoot a playful wink in his direction before pulling out the emerald green dress next. “Speaking of dear Mingles.”
“If anyone but you called him that, they’d be decapitated by now.” Seonghwa jokes, shifting to pull out his chair before taking a seat to continue watching you go through all of the dresses he made for you for that one night.
“Good thing I’m not just anybody.” You grin, observing the way the material of the strapless goddess wrap falls from the hanger. 
The material pinches in one place on the left side, allowing for a sort of angled hemline which ends just above your knees. The wrap of the dress is meticulous, silver gems serving to pin the wrap in place, glittering beneath the lights of the tailor shop around you.
“No,” he agrees with a hum, leaning back in his seat as he observes you with a loving gaze, “you’re not.”
Moving on to the next gown, you pull out what had been your second choice for that evening all those months ago. 
The red dress is just as beautiful as you remember, the capped sleeves giving way to the sweetheart neckline. Tulle flows from the waistline and all the way to the floor in a seamless line, accentuating the length of the gown. Though, as you pull the skit, you realize that there seems to be a slit running all the way up the side, hidden beneath the layers of fabric.
Your eyebrows raise in amusement.
“Do you think it would have been easier or harder for me to stab him wearing his dress?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone as you turn to face Seonghwa once more.
“My Divine, I think you underestimate the power you hold when we see you wear something of our own design.” He remarks. At the way you quirk a brow, he continues, “If you wore that dress for him… hell, if you wore anything red for him, you could get him to do anything that you want. No questions asked.”
Your eyes widen significantly, pure mirth dancing within. “Good to know.”
“The same goes for every single one of us.” He sighs, somewhat dreamily as he rests his elbow on the arm of his chair. His head is in his hand, and you can just tell by that fond look in his eyes that he’s vividly reminiscing you wearing his own gown for him all those long months ago.
The next dress you pull out to look at is a beautiful bright yellow. It’s strapless, and the skirt falls like a waterfall - short in the front before it lengthens in the back. The material is chiffon, wrapping around the bodice in a sort of layered pattern.
“Simple, yet elegant.” You comment. “It’s fitting for Yunho.”
“He has always been a simple man, in that sense.” Seonghwa agrees.
That soft smile rests on your features as you delicately place Yunho’s dress back onto the rack. Almost lovingly, you trace your hands over the fabric one last time before moving on to the soft pink dress right beside it. Pulling it off of the rack, you hum.
The lightness of the fabric falls delicately against your one hand as you see the over the shoulder straps. There seem to be two sets: one the would hang just over your collarbones, while the other falls just past your shoulders, both thin yet sturdy. The style reminds you of old fantasy games, where fairies would wear pastels, their wings fluttering behind them. The ruffled seam along the top leads into the straps that fall just over your shoulders, bodice form fitting while the skirt falls delicately in a solid piece of soft fabric to rest just below your knees.
“Sometimes, I forget how soft you all can be.” You hum pleasantly, heart swelling as you place San’s dress back onto the rack.
When you first met San, you interpreted him to be all sharp angles and brute strength. At least, that’s how he appeared to you.
A vision of him purposely flaunting himself off beside the pool flashes through your mind briefly. 
Now, of course, you know differently, and this dress only serves to prove what you already know.
You smile.
Last, but certainly not least, you pull out the final dress in the row.
The youngest’s dress is probably the shortest of the bunch, the deep maroon accenting the black velvet pattern of roses found throughout. It’s quite simple in design, small slits on either side along the edges of the skit to make moving in the dress easier. The top is strapless, body formfitting.
“Something tells me Jongho was hoping a little too hard for this one.” You quirk a brow, turning to look at Seonghwa who suddenly avoids your gaze. “Ohoho, so he wasn’t the only one hoping for this one.”
“If we’re being honest, it was my second choice.” Seonghwa mumbles, still not being able to meet your eyes.
“Do I want to know?” You tease, nothing but amusement shining in your eyes.
“I wasn’t the only one!” Seonghwa attempts to defend himself, raising his hands in front of his chest.
“Yes, Mars, we’ve established that.” You chuckle. “It’s a wonder the shortest dress is the most popular.”
“Nothing to do with it being the tightest, either…” He mumbles, clearing his throat quite loudly afterwards.
You laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides as you begin teasing them about being your ‘damn horny Kings’ yet again.
“How you managed to get my measurements right is beyond me.” You shake your head, tutting lightly.
“It took me some time, but I do have almost perfect spacial reasoning.” He replies, somewhat nonchalantly.
You raise a hand, shaking your head lightly, “I don’t even want to know.”
“You seemed curious.” He shrugs.
“Wait, how long did it take you to make these?” Your brow furrows slightly as you shift your gaze back to the dresses on the rack beside you.
Seonghwa takes a moment to think about his answer, humming lightly to himself. “Probably about three months. Give or take a week.”
“Three months?” Your eyes nearly bug right out of your head.
“Yeah, I worked on them practically non-stop.” He recalls. “I mean, my own design took me the longest with all of the lace, but if I set my mind to something, it normally doesn’t take me very long to do. Or, well, create.”
You blink. Once. Twice. Three times before his words are truly sinking in.
“Seonghwa,” you turn to him, “How long did it take you to make your dress for me?”
He pauses, looking upwards as he mentally tallies the days. “About a month.”
You mouth falls open. “You spent a month working on a single dress? For me?”
“I had to make sure it was perfect.” He shrugs.
Your expression softens as you move to kneel before him as he rests in his chair. Ever so gently, you clasp his hands in your own, his words from earlier echoing throughout your head.
“You weaved the lace by hand, didn’t you?” Your inquiry is a bit airy, warmth swelling in your chest as you stare deeply into his eyes. “Just like you embroidered this by hand, too.”
The way he glances down at the corset you wear is answer enough, but he still nods softly along with your words.
A tender smile graces your lips. “You are incredible, you know that?”
Again, he averts his gaze somewhat bashfully. “It’s not much.”
“Seonghwa, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You glance up at him through your lashes.
“To be fair, you said it yourself, we’ve had quite a few rough patches already.” He once again shrugs your praise off. “It never felt like the right time, and I didn’t want it to appear like I was boasting.”
You’re silent for a moment, pursing your lips slightly as you appear deep in thought.
“What’s on your mind, My Divine?” His hand gently cupping your face has you meeting his gaze once more.
“I wish I had known.” There’s a slight downturn of your lips, a hint of guilt shining behind your eyes. “I had an inkling you had made it for me, but I didn’t realize the extent you went to.”
“It’s alright, My Divine,” Seonghwa chuckles fondly. “You don’t need to feel bad for this.”
“But I almost threw it off my balcony.” Nothing but pure regret pulls at your features.
“But you didn’t.” He reminds you.
“As scared, confused, and upset I was, I couldn’t do that to such a beautiful dress.” You admit lowly. “Especially not to one that actually made me feel beautiful after so long of believe I wasn’t.”
“I’m just happy to know you liked my design enough to choose it first.” He cups your face gently, placing a tender kiss onto your forehead.
“I should wear it again.” A casual admittance from you has him freezing right in his spot. “A dress like that shouldn’t be worn only once, Mars. It’s wasted sitting on a hanger, and not worn for its intended purpose.”
“You would wear it again?” He pulls away to meet your gaze, eyes shining with his barely contained awe and happiness. “For me?”
“I plan to wear everything you’ve ever made for me at some point, Hwa.” You admit lowly. “Everything you will make for me.”
His brow quirks teasingly, “Even the wedding dress?”
You grin right along with him, “Even the wedding dress.”
“I know for a fact that Wooyoung won’t be the only one who wants to see you in that.” His gaze drifts to the row of dresses behind you.
“I think your brothers have long since earned seeing me in their own dress designs.” You hum, turning your head to glance back at the aforementioned gowns. “As a treat.”
“You might want to time Jongho’s for when none of us are home, except him.” Seonghwa warns, helping you back to your feet as he stands from his chair. “You may not get to him if one of us sees you in that first.”
“Is that a promise?” You quirk a brow playfully.
“A Divine Temptress, that’s what you are.” Seonghwa shakes his head, stroking his thumb lovingly against your cheek.
“Only for My Kings.” You giggle, shooting him a playful wink as you walk back over to the stand.
Seonghwa follows behind, a fond smile on his features as he watches you step back onto that little pedestal. Again, you turn to face the mirrors, smoothing out the front of the dress as you examine your reflection closely.
All is silent for the moment as he looks you over carefully, noting the somewhat subtle twitch of your fingers over the material of the gown.
“You know you can tell me whatever is on your mind.” He voices softly. “If you don’t like something, I won’t be upset.”
You take a moment to straighten your spine before clearing your throat, “You said you haven’t started on the new dress to match this yet, right?”
“That is correct.” He confirms with a nod, a sort of amused gleam shining behind his eyes.
“I- uh-“ you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, averting your gaze so sweetly to the side.
“Do you have something in mind?” Seonghwa is a little too eager when he asks this.
Softly, you nod your head. “But if you already have an idea, I don’t want to-“
“My Divine,” he cuts you off with a lighthearted chuckle, moving to stand in front of you. A second later, he gently grasps your hands in his own. “Never be afraid to ask me to make you something. I would be more than happy to create for you whatever vision you have in that beautiful mind of yours.”
A reassuring squeeze is felt against your hands.
“What if…” you trail off lightly before finally meeting his gaze. “What if we designed it together?”
Seonghwa goes so still, you swear he might pass out. That is, until he’s blinking rapidly, almost as if to clear tears from his vision.
“You want to design a dress with me?” His voice is a bit airy, coming out a bit choked from his overwhelming emotions.
At your eager nod, a brilliant smile stretches across his features. 
Again, he squeezes your hands, shaking them back and forth lightly in his excitement. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, you already have the corset,” you begin, an eager grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
He nods.
“So, I was thinking…”
A moment later, and you’re opening up your void to him, the mental image of you in a very specific dress filling his thoughts.
You can hear his sudden intake of breath, his eyes widening slightly as his heart stutters in his chest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer, his lips parting in awe at the vision that paints his mind.
Seonghwa clears his throat, swallowing the sudden dryness there. “I can do that.”
You smile, placing a kiss onto his cheek. “We can do that.”
Seonghwa laughs, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he wraps you into his arms. A moment later, and he lifts you into the air, spinning you around once as a joyous shriek of surprise escapes your lips.
“Hwa, put me down!” Your laughter strongly contradicts your statement as you hold onto his shoulders for support.
Gently, he settles you back onto your feet on that little pedestal. Still, he holds you to him, gazing at you with nothing but love and affection in his dark eyes.
“I love you, My Divine,” he squeezes you the slightest bit tighter as he says this. “So much.”
You smile tenderly at him, cupping his face softly in your hands. “I love you, Seonghwa.”
Briefly, his eyes dart down to your lips.
He swallows. “May I?”
You decide to tease him a little longer.
“May you, what?” You quirk a brow.
“May I kiss-“
He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his inquiry before your lips are on his own. 
A pleased hum reverberates in his chest as he pulls you impossibly closer, one hand settling on the back of your head while the other rests between your shoulder blades. 
Kissing you is a feeling unlike any other to Seonghwa, and he revels in it each time. He can never get enough - your touch, your laugh, your smile - anything and everything about you, he adores, and he’s sure to pour all that he is into the movement of his lips against your own. You are all that he needs.
All too soon, you’re parting from him to rest your forehead against his own.
“You make me so incredibly happy, My Divine.” He breathes out, his eyes still closed as he absolutely revels in this moment here in time with you. “It means the world to me that you wish to design something together.”
“It’s like I told San before,” you reply lowly. “I want to spend more time with each of you doing what you love to do. You’ve all done so much for me, I think it’s time I return the favour.”
“My Queen.” The way his eyes shine with unshed tears says it all.
“I’m just sorry I can’t make anything like this for you, yet.” You briefly motion to the corset you’re still wearing.
“Well,” he laughs, “I do have a few thousand years on you.”
“Just a few.” You grin right along with him. “Maybe I’ll make you a scarf, or something.”
“A scarf?” He quirks a brow.
“I do know how to crochet, Mars.” You chuckle. “Though, you wouldn’t really have a use for it.”
“If you made me a scarf, I would never take it off.” He says, matter-of-factly.
“I don’t know how durable it would be constantly getting wet in the shower,” you hum, almost absentmindedly to yourself.
“You’ve never asked us for yarn before,” he mumbles, brow furrowing in thought.
“To be fair, there have been quite a few other things on my mind.” You poke his cheek lightly.
“I suppose you’re right.” He nods in agreement.
“You ‘suppose’?” You quirk a brow playfully.
“I, uh-“
“I’m just teasing you.” You hum, burying your face into the side of his neck as you hug him close to you. “Besides, I’m surprised my grandmother hasn’t told you that yet. I also know how to knit.”
“Surprisingly, I haven’t seen her around much, lately.” He replies, helping you straighten out the dress again once you part from him.
“I wonder why,” you mumble, somewhat absentmindedly to yourself.
“Baby!” 
Just then, the bell above the door to the shop jingles, and both you and Seonghwa are turning to see a frantic San rushing through the door. Both Mingi and Wooyoung are behind him, excitement shining within their eyes.
That’s when you notice, San seems to be holding onto your phone.
“It’s Vasco.” He says, holding out the phone to you with a large smile tugging at his features. “Crystal’s gone into labour.”
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underground-secret · 4 months
Text
The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader
Description: The infamous “Hook Man” seems to terrorize a small college town in Iowa, leading these hunters to take care of it.
Warning: Cannon violence, slight description of a corpse, guns, ghosts, flirting 🤭, sitting on lap, slight fake dating, mentions of sexual activity, creepy college boy for like 2 seconds
Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra @fablesrose @ada--44
A/N: B/N = brothers name. Yes i haven’t forgotten that reader has a brother i just never had an excuse to bring him up. Anyways his lil convo with reader is based on one i had with my brother, i figured y/n is basically based on me from how i react to things and my speaking mannerisms so i might as well base her brother off my own. (hope you enjoy)
Word count: Around 7K
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Hook Man
(Master list, Previous Ch., Next Ch)
The spring breeze rustles my hair as I diligently sip on the chai latte in front of me, the small outdoor cafe we sat at bringing me some much needed peace after a hectic last hunt.
Deans next to me, his arm around my chair practically bringing us closer even as his brother stands at a payphone on the phone with the FBI.
Suddenly my phone rings, the familiar yet annoying buzz ringing in my sweater pocket. Dean looks at me with a raised eyebrow. I shrug at him, I have no idea why or who would be calling me. I fumble the phone out of my pocket looking at the name that was printed on the screen of my flip phone, ‘B/N :D’ sliding across the small screen.
“Oh! It’s my brother!” I smile at Dean. He smiles at me back beneath the cup he brought to his lips, he pulls it away from him “Say ‘Hi’ for us” he requests. Both boys have kind of always been close with my brother, especially Dean who was closer to him in age.
I scoot my seat back, getting up from the white metal chair and walking away slightly, the opposite way in which Sam stood. I flip my phone open with a satisfying click, answering the phone “Hi B/N!” I answer.
“Hey! How are you?” He asks me, his voice sweet and smiley as he speaks. “Busy and tired”, I answer, “What about you?”
“Oh you know, tired also…but I haven’t heard from you in a couple of months. Like at all, you could have texted you know” He lectures and I know he’s more disappointed in me then angry, he’s always been scared that we would become distant considering we lived in different states and that I wasn’t the best at communicating first.
“I’m sorry” I sigh, disappointed in myself too, “I’ve been hunting.”
“All this time? Alone?!” he shoots back without missing a beat.
“No! no no. I don’t do long hunting trips alone… I’m, uh, well Dean came to me and said he needed my help an-“ I explain getting cut off by my brother, “And you can’t say no” He laughs.
“Yeah” I exhale, laughing along with him, “They say hi by the way.”
“Say hi for me too and that if anything happens to you I will personally track them down and remove their orga-“
“Okay okay! I get it yup!… You know they’d never let anything happen to me” I explain, even though under the concealer I wore there were bruises still healing from the shapeshifter hunt. (I don’t blame either one of the boys for what happened.)
“Yeah well I love you and miss you and I wish you’d call more especially if ur out hunting, I need to know you’re safe.” He tells me.
“I love you too, I promise I will call you at least twice a week for updates.” I smile.
“You better, anyways I wish I could talk longer but I’m sitting in the parking lot of my job and have to go in.” He explains. “Alright, bye bye love you!” I finished. “Love you too” he says before hanging up.
I pocket my phone twirling around with a smile on my face. Sam’s back at the table now talking to his brother and by the scowl on his face I'd say his call hadn’t gone well. I walk back over to my seat, Dean's arm still around the chair, “What did I miss?” I ask as I sink down into the chair.
“Dads not in the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank and Dean found a possible new hunt for us” Sam brings me up to speed, looking disappointed.
“Here check it out” Dean turns the laptop towards me scrolling up to the beginning of the article, “Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”
I read through the article quickly, years of having to read as well as just for fun making me a fast reader. A key point sticking out to me, ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road.’
“I think it might not be anything. One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.” Sam points out as I finish reading. “And I think it’s worth checking out, Dad would” Dean counters, giving his brother a pointed look.
“I mean emotions can affect the liability of an eyewitness. However, the fact that the body was suspended from a bridge right over the car in presumably a matter of minutes, considering the time of death and the arrival at the scene, without the witness seeing a thing- like at all is a little bazaar. It’s probably worth checking out.” I ramble out.
“Ha! See” Dean smirks.
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The Impala comes to a stop in front of a fraternity house, a big white townhouse, where the victim Rich used to live. It seems like an army of men are outside working on all sorts of cars, was this some sort of bonding thing?
I may have gone to college but I never interacted with frats and I certainly have never seen them all working on different cars all together. Is this normal? Is this what guys do?
We get out of the car immediately getting the attention of the guys working, all their eyes pinned to us.
“Nice wheels.” Dean starts, gaining weird looks from the younger men, “We’re your fraternity brothers. From Ohio. We’re new in town. Transfers. Looking for a place to stay.” He grins. One of the boys nods slowly at him, his gaze then switching to me. He eyed me up and down as if he’s never seen a woman before, despite being in a frat. Maybe that was unfair to say, stereotypes and all that, but it still made my skin crawl and I was suddenly all too aware of the fact that I had chosen to wear a skirt this morning.
The man that looked at me wiped his hands on a dirty rag, “You guys can check it out, but,uh, sorry, no chics allowed here. She’d need to find a sorority spot.” He nods towards me, his eyes a shinny kind of creepy.
“Aw, don’t worry she’s my girlfriend” Dean smirks wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his body till my side was pressed right up against his, “Gotta make sure my girl knows which rooms mine” he winks at the man and my face flushes. My heart lurches at the phrase ‘my girl’ even though I knew it was just for a cover- it was a lie and yet it felt so right.
*****
We walked through the frat house which was cleaner than I expected, only a few cups lying around and only a small smell of booze.
Dean's fingers were intertwined with mine to keep up the act of me being his girlfriend, and I didn’t mind one bit. Maybe I'm touch starved.
After one last turn in the house we found someone to talk to which happened to be a shirtless guy with yellow shorts painting his face and body purple. Dean knocks on the door with his free hand while Sam and I share a look of confusion with the purple man in front of us.
“Who are you?” the guy asks, turning his body halfway towards us. “We’re your new roommates”, Dean smiles walking further into the room.
The man holds up his paint can and brushes to Dean, “Do me a favor? Get my back. Big game today.” I try to conceal the horror on my face. Dean smirks pointing to his brother, “He’s the artist. Things he can do with a brush.” Sam takes the brush and can with a total look of mortification on his face as he begins to paint the guys back.
Meanwhile, Dean occupies the worn armchair, effortlessly tugging me towards him. He manspreads in the chair, then practically places me on his right thigh. My legs slip between his spread legs. His grip releases my hand, transferring possession to my exposed thigh, the frigid touch of his ring kindling goosebumps along my skin. Suddenly I'm back to not regretting my choice of a skirt this morning.
I search his face for a tell, but all I find is a cryptic smile. He's not giving anything away, engrossed in a magazine he casually picks up from a nearby table. I swallow hard, attempting to regain mental composure, but the echo of 'my girl' and the weight of his hand disrupt any coherent thought. A fog settles in my mind as butterflies riot in my stomach, leaving me dizzy and utterly consumed.
“So…Murph. Is it true?” Dean starts, most likely getting the name from the magazine he had picked up. “What?” he answers.
“We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week.” Dean leads him.
“Yeah.” Murph sighs.
“What happened?” Sam asks, still painting his back.
“They’re saying some psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy.” Murph explains.
Dean's hand suddenly flexes on my thigh, squeezing it slightly right as I was about to talk, “R-Rich he was with somebody?” I stumble over my words, my voice seemingly a higher octave as I speak. Either way I only asked to see if my assumption was correct- the eyewitness wasn’t just a witness but a possible victim who got away safe.
“Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen.” Murph laughs a little.
“Who’s Lori Sorensen?” I ask, Dean cutting in right after me to poke fun at his brother, “You missed a spot. Just down there- on the back.” Sam glares at him before getting said spot, Dean grins like crazy.
“Lori’s a freshman. She’s a local. Super hot. And get this…she’s a reverend’s daughter.” Murph smirks
“You wouldn’t happen to know which church, would ya?” Dean asks.
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The church looked a little worn on the outside, a clear sign it’s been here for awhile but the inside was beautiful. Cherry colored wood used in the whole inside except the walls which were laid with cobblestone and big stain glass windows depicting certain bible scenes. The sun shone through them illuminating the people sitting in the pews with a light of oranges and reds. Yes it looked like any other church sure, and maybe it was the people here showing the love that they felt for someone who was no longer here that made it so beautiful, whatever it was brought a certain warmth to my heart regardless of the fact that I wasn’t religious.
The steady voice of the reverend flowed through the church, the peaceful atmosphere and his voice was interrupted by the heavy brown door that slammed behind us entering. The whole room fell silent for a beat and people turned towards us, the source of the disruption. With an awkward smile as an apology the sermon continued as usual.
“As a community, and as a family. The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings.” The reverend begins again as we find a seat towards the back. “So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children.”
An odd feeling of familiarity and sadness fills my veins, my fingers twitch with the countless memories I had of what now seemed like a lifetime ago even if it really couldn’t have been more than ten years. I bow my head in prayer and respect, the act coming naturally to me. But I can’t find it in myself to actually pray, to talk to a god again.
The last time I talked to a god was when my mom died, I thought if I prayed she’d come back or at the very least the hole in my chest wouldn’t be there anymore, that he could take my pain away when I hadn’t wanted to feel that way.
I kept praying. Every night for it to change.
I never got an answer, not a sign, not a peep of comfort.
I don’t remember when I stopped believing… but I do remember praying to a God that would not answer.
****
Outside the church, people stood around talking in small groups and hugging each other before moving on to another person or leaving all together.
A brunette girl in a green and white top speaks with her slightly taller friend, and with a lasting hug their conversation is over. According to the picture Murph had shown us of Rich and Lori posing together, the brunette just had to be her.
We walk up to her, mostly confident in the matching identity, “Are you Lori?” Sam asks in confirmation.
“Yeah.” She nods.
“My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean. And my friend, Y/N.” Dean waves a little awkwardly and I smile sweetly at the girl in front of us.
“We just transferred here to the university.” Sam explains, Lori nods “ I saw you inside.”
“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…” Sam trails off eyebrows furrowed. “We wanted to say how sorry we were” Dean finishes his brother's sentence.
Sam clears his throat as if his words were hard to get out, “I kind of know what you’re going through. I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.” Lori nods sadly, her eyes turned down instead of the previous eye contact.
Suddenly the reverend came over to his daughter, a hand placed on her shoulder, “Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and Y/N. They’re new students.” The older man shakes each of our hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.” Dean smiles, his dimple on display.
“Thank you very much. It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” He looks between the three of us.
“I was actually hoping to catch you after the sermon” I begin, my fingers ghost over Dean's hand, “We’re also new to town.” As if understanding my plan to give Sam time to talk to Lori in private Dean intertwined his fingers with mine, continuing my sentence and leading us and the reverend slightly away from his daughter, “And, uh, we were looking for a, um, a church group.”
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The boys follow after me as I search through the rows of bookshelves in this large library, “So you believe her?” Dean asks his brother.
“I do.” Sam answers plainly.
“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smiles. I turn my head towards him slowly, giving him a sharp look, “Would you like to say that again” I smile at him. “No ma’am” He puts his hands up in defense and defeat.
“Look, man, there’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.” Sam continues, ignoring what just happened.
I turn towards the boys behind me swiftly, my skirt swishing against me at my movement, “You think we’re dealing with the Hook Man?”
“Yeah I mean that’s one of the most famous urban legends ever” Dean tries to rationalize.
“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began.” Sam replies.
“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?” Dean asks.
“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?”
*****
The nice librarian brings over the last of the heavy boxes we asked for, the number of which I lost count of, “Here you go. Arrest records going back to 1851”, she announces placing the box down. Dean blows some dust off the box immediately coughing. A laugh escapes my lips, “What did you think was going to happen?”
The librarian walks away, Sam catching her to say thanks while Dean and I “bickered.”
He rolls his eyes at me pushing over one of the boxes towards me. I stand up from my seat to see in the box better, I pull out one of the many manila folders sitting back down to start what I know is going to be hours of research.
“So, this is how you both spent four good years of your life, huh?” Dean asks, eyebrows raised as he leaned back in his chair, a folder in his hand.
“Mhm” I hum, getting too focused to give a proper response.
“Welcome to higher education” Sam sighs as if to get comfortable.
I finished the first folder quickly as there weren't many papers in it to begin with, plus it was about a kidnapping case. I’m glad the guy got caught but it wasn’t what I was looking for, I put the folder to the side before picking up another.
“I’m sure you’re wishing hunting didn’t have so much research to it” I inquired, slightly mumbling.
“Yeah no kidding” Dean huffs
****
Hours later and multiple boxes down, Sam suddenly speaks up, “Hey, check this out. 1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes.
Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’”
I leaned over to pick up a paper from the folder he was holding that he must have put to the side, “And apparently the preacher lost his hand in some sort of accident and had it replaced with, get this, a silver hook of all things.”
“Look where all this happened” Sam points.
“9 Mile Road” Dean reads.
“Same place where the frat boy was killed” Sam adds, the pieces connecting.
Dean smirks, “Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let’s check it out.”
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The pure darkness of the night cloaks us, despite the fact we weren’t wearing all black, the trees hide us and Baby as we exit the car heading towards the rear. Dean opens the trunk and hands both Sam and I a rifle, “Here you go”. I shift the gun in my hand, opening the magazine to make sure every slot is filled with a bullet.
“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good.” Sam points out, having opened his gun magazine too.
“Yeah, rock salt.” Dean smirks, showing him a bullet cartridge as an example. “Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent.” Sam mumbles in astonishment.
“Yeah. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean adds as he picks up a coil of rope from the trunk.
“You know, your brother has been quite the creator since you’ve been away at college” I acknowledge, hoping it didn’t come off as a backhanded comment. Dean winks at me as he slams the trunk shut, a slight warmth spreading on my cheeks. “No kidding, first the homemade emf and now this, you and Dad think of this?” Sam asks as we walk towards the trees.
“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.” Dean's smile fades to a hardened look at the sounds of walking and rustling in the trees.
I come to a full stop, my boots skidding in the soft dirt below me, I raise my gun towards the sound and I realize to anyone else I must look a little silly wearing an outfit that includes a skirt and holding a heavy shotgun.
“Guys!” I whisper-shout at the sight of a figure approaching. Both boys appear on either side of me, Sam with the only other gun standing slightly in front.
“Put the gun down now! Now! Put your hands behind your head.” The figure yells raising his own gun as he approaches us, I curse mentally at the Sheriff. But before he can get too close I whisp the gun out of my hands, transporting it safely back to the trunk, if we were gonna get arrested at least the confiscating of one gun is better than two.
Dean and I are quick to follow the guys instructions as Sam slowly neals down to place the gun, his hands raised in defense. I would have loved to hide his gun too but the sheriff most definitely saw at least one gun, his gun.
“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!” The Sheriff demands. Slowly I drop to my knees, the boys following, the cold dirt sinking into my exposed knees. Frick.
“Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!” He yells next. This is just annoying now I think to myself as I lie down. “He had the gun!” Dean throws his brother under the bus, lying down too.
“Shut it!” He yells, kicking the shot gun out of reach before rounding to the back of us. Figuring out by sound alone, he pockets his gun before patting us down thoroughly. Then he tells us to stand again and get in our car. He will follow behind us to the sheriff station and “there better be no funny business.”
****
Exiting a sheriff's office after being “arrested” is a weird experience, especially when all the cops of sorts are looking at you while whispering to each other.
“Saved your asses! Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Dude, I am Matlock.” Dean slaps his brother on the back.
“But how?” Sam asks, looking annoyed, and truthfully I'm not surprised Dean got us out of this.
“I told him you were a dumbass pledge and that we were hazing you.” Dean shrugs.
“What about the shotgun?” Sam points out.
“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank. And while you were ‘hunting ghosts’ I told ‘em I was gonna try and get in her pants” He motions towards me, my face flushing red with a mix of embarrassment and anger.
“Hey!” I grumble.
“And he believed you?” Sam questioned in disbelief.
“Well, you look like a dumbass pledge and she looks like an easy girl to play no offense” Dean laughs.
“Hey! Offense taken!” I say this time with actual frustration. I slap his shoulder and I know he was expecting it, old habits die hard, but he lets me hit him. “What?! You look all innocent and you’re wearing a skirt which is perfect for banging in the woods!” He says all ‘matter of factly.’
“Dean!” I yell going to slap his shoulder again this time harder but before I can reach him he clasps my wrist. Naturally I try to go at him with my other hand but seemingly reading my mind he grabs my other wrist with the same hand. Now holding both my wrists in one large hand at his side he quirks his eyebrow, I should be a little mad at him but somehow he’s able to diffuse me in a matter of second and to be fair I can’t decide where to look either his veiny hand or his eyes that seem a shade darker than usual.
Suddenly several police run out of the building and jump into their police cars before speeding away. Dean drops his hold on my wrist, the three of us exchange a look.
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The car comes to a stop on the street behind the sorority house, getting out of the car we move closer to the white building. “Why would the Hook Man come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road” Sam brings up.
“Maybe it’s about something else.” I answer, pulling pairs of latex gloves from my pocket that I made sure to grab from my bag before leaving the car. I hand each of them a pair, Sam putting them on without question while Dean looks at me weirdly “Getting fingerprints on an active crime scene doesn't seem so smart especially when we were already found at the original crime scene” I explain, he makes of face that reads as ‘fair enough’ before he puts his own pair on.
Two sorority girls come out of a side entrance near us looking like they’ve been crying, we push up against the side of the building, the girls passing us.
“Dude, sorority girls! Think we’ll see a naked pillow fight?” Dean asks, a little too happy turning to see his brother climbing onto the balcony of the house. “Yeah cause these girls would have a pillow fight when someone just got murdered in their house” I answer in disbelief as I climb up after Sam, thank god for wearing shorts under skirts and upper body strength. As I reach the top I swing my legs over the railing straddling it before swinging my other leg around, my boots landing on the white concrete, Dean following quickly behind me.
Sam opens a window that leads into a walk-in closet, Lori’s closet, just a door away from the crime scene.
I crawl in after him, Deans right behind me except ever so not gracefully he knocks into one of the dressers.
“Be quiet” Sam snaps.
“You be quiet!” Dean bites back
“You be quiet!”
“Boys!” I whisper yell, their bickering immediately stopping though they glare at each other from the corner of their eyes.
I walk over the closet door, pulling it open slowly just enough to see a cop in the room writing down something on a notepad before leaving. I count to ten in my head before opening the door fully exposing the bloody mess of a crime scene from the walls to the bed the girl must have died in, considering the blood pool.
“‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’” Sam reads off the wall, the words written in blood, “That’s right out of the legend.”
“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean acknowledges, he taps his nose in regard to the horribly strong metallic smell, “It’s definitely a spirit.”
“I don’t think i’ve ever smelt ozone this strong before” I add, scrunching my nose from the smell, Sam nodding in agreement.
Dean walks over to the window in the room, “Hey, come here. Does that look familiar to you?”
****
Outside again, gloves disposed of, we stare at a cross symbol with little t’s or x’s in each space, a symbol that dangled from the hook-hand the preacher from our research had worn. Also the same symbol Dean had found on the windowsill and written in blood on the wall.
“It’s the same symbol. Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns.” Sam confirms.
“All right, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down” Dean announces, going through the usual steps.
Sam reads from the yellowed paper in his hands “After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.”
“How fun and easy” I remark sarcastically.
“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why” Sam brings up.
“I’ll take a wild guess about why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this.” Dean comments, getting into the driver's side of Baby.
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The bass pounds loudly, the sound thumping in my chest as the bright neon lights illuminate the drunken atmosphere of college students. I weave through the crowd to get back to the main room where Sam said to meet, having barely enough time to shower, change and take a nap before night fell again and the frat party started.
Suddenly an unfamiliar hand grabs hold of my wrist pulling me back towards them. I looked up at the guy who pulled me back, a blonde spiky haired college student with a red solo cup in hand looked down at me “Where you going, pretty girl?” he asks me his breath reeking of booze. He pulls me closer, my chest nearly flushed with his, I pull my head back at an awkward angle to get away from him as I pull my wrist away. This guy really represented every reason why I rarely, if ever, went to parties as a college student, “Oh you know tryna get back to my boyfriend!” I yell over the music, finally snatching my wrist free at the lie.
“Oh.” His face falls quickly turning around to head to some other girl, I roll my eyes before continuing my way down the hall and the stairs to the foyer.
“There you are!” Sam yells over the music as I approach him, Dean not yet in sight. “Sorry! A college boy stopped me!” I replied.
“Sorry, You alright?” Sam asked with eyebrows scrunched, he apologized to me as if he was the one to do it, ever the sweetheart. I nod my head in response just as Dean approaches, “Man, you’ve been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome!” he says immediately, winking and smiling at a girl that passes by. If this didn’t show the double standard between genders then I don’t know what will.
“This wasn’t really my experience” Sam answers
“Same here!” I add, recalling every ill memory of any parties I did go to.
“Nerds” Dean scuffs.
“Yeah yeah anyways Sam what did you find?” I ask getting back on topic.
“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam answers, unraveling a folded piece of paper he produced from his pocket.
Dean takes the paper reading the important facts, “1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage.”
“There’s a pattern here. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out—get this—with a sharp instrument.” Sam explains
“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asks, face full of confusion.
“Dean. A man of religion…who openly preaches against immorality…you know Reverend Sorensen.” I clarify, a sudden look of understanding passes over Deans features. “Yeah except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his only daughter” Sam adds.
“You think he’s summoning the spirit?” Dean counter.
“Maybe. Or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?” Sam asks.
“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.” Dean mumbles.
“Without the reverend ever even knowing it.”
“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight.” Dean suggest. Sam nods in agreement, “What about you guys?”
Dean gets distracted by an attractive blonde by the pool table. I roll my eyes “We’ll go find that grave, do some digging and burning.”
****
In the dark of the night Dean and I search the large cemetery, our only light being our flashlights. He looks a little grumpy, probably because he couldn’t hook up with the many eligible bachelorettes.
I ignore his brooding, searching each gravestone for some sort of hint of him being buried here.
“Over here!” Dean calls out from a few feet away, I walk over to him seeing the same cross symbol we’ve been seeing engraved on the headstone. “Nice” I smile, putting my bag down and taking the shovel he handed to me.
I don’t know how much time goes by but we are most likely only a foot deep. Digging up a grave is hard.
“You know I read somewhere that digging up a grave can take up to like six to eight hours to complete.” I huff as I kept digging trying to make conversation.
“What kind of books do you read?” Dean exclaims, giving me a weird look as he places his shovel down to strip down to his T-shirt. I try to ignore how his muscles flex as he lifts his many layers off of him to combat the sweat he was building.
I shrug at his question, answering, “All sorts of things.” The conversation ends there as we keep digging away, the only sounds from us being huffing and grunts.
I start to take my tops off too, going down to the black lace cami I wore as an extra layer. No wonder they use a machine to do this now.
Hours must have passed before one of our shovels hit wood. His coffin. Dean and I speak at the same time our voices overlapping,
“Thank God”
“Hello preacher” Dean breaks open the casket more, the remains of bones lying there.
We climb out of the grave, dirt and sweat sticking to our clothes (so much for showering before). Dean looks especially good, sweat causing his light gray shirt to stick to his skin causing his muscles to be on display, his cheeks flushed from all his hard work. This should really be the last thing on my mind especially as we pour salt and lighter fluid on the corpse.
“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean throws the lit match into the grave, the bones and wood igniting into flames.
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Dean and I walked down the hospital hall, Sam having called and told us to come to the hospital no other context other than he was okay and even that had to be pried out of him before he hung up.
I trail behind him as he tries to shove off two cops holding him back, “No, it’s alright, I’m with him. He’s my brother. Hey! Brother!” Although a little embarrassing he did get Sam and the sheriffs attention, “Let ‘em through” the sheriff announces with a careless hand wave.
The two cops haul off, “Thanks” Dean says, fixing his jacket as his brother approaches, “You ok?”
“Yeah.” Sam nods, walking back down the hall where we had come for some privacy.
“What the hell happened?” Dean asks through gritted teeth.
“Hook Man.” Sam answered plainly.
“You saw him?!” I exclaim.
“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam counters. “Hey!! We did!” I argue.
“You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?” Dean points out.
“It sure as hell looked like him. And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.” Sam answered.
“Well, yeah, the guy wouldn’t send the Hook Man after himself.” Dean spoke.
“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” Sam reports.
“So she’s obviously upset about it, the immorality around it, especially from someone who quite literally preaches about that sort of sin” I ramble on, “Wow that’s like the Scarlet Letter.”
“Yeah” Sam laughs at my reference, “And she told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”
“Alright nerds, so she’s conflicted. And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?” Dean said.
“Right. Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.” Sam lists out.
“Remind me not to piss this girl off. But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?” Dean noted.
“You must have missed something.” Sam shrugged.
“Oh frick” I gasped at the sudden realization hitting me, “The hook. Except it wasn’t in the coffin.”
“Great, so if we find the hook…”
“We stop the Hook Man.” Dean finishes smiling.
****
Back in the same library as a couple days before we once again spent hours researching.
“Here’s something, I think. Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary”, Dean reads, “Karns, Jacob. Personal affects: disposition thereof.”
“Any mention of the hook?” I ask, looking up from my papers.
“Yeah, maybe” He begins reading again, “Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church.”
“Isn’t that where Lori’s father preaches?” Sam questioned. “Yeah” Dean confirmed, “Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past 200 years.”
“But how do you miss a bloodstained silver-handled hook? Let alone in a church” I point out.
Dean shrugs, “Check the church records”
An hour or two later I came across the answer to my own question, I nearly knocked my chair over going to where the boys sat placing the clip of the newspaper down, “St. Barnabas donations, 1862, they received a silver-handled hook from the state penitentiary. It got reforged, melted it down into something else.”
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“Alright, we can’t take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire.” Dean said as he slammed the trunk shut, swinging the duffle on his shoulder. “I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in.” Sam announces.
“Alright, take your pick.”
“I’ll take the house.” Sam answers pointing in that direction.
“Ok. Then you're with me Y/N” Dean smirks, swinging his arm around my shoulder pushing me closer to his side as we walk off in the other direction. “Hey Sam!” He calls out without halting in his steps, “Stay out of her underwear drawer!”
“You are disgusting” I laugh, poking his side as I speak.
****
“When someone comes back in the morning they are going to think they’ve gone crazy. I mean like imagine walking into a space you know well and suddenly only very specific items are missing like silver.” I comment as I throw more silver candelabras in the fire Dean had started in the basement's old heater thing.
“At this very moment that’s what you're thinking of?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow at me with a smile. “I mean yeah…” I shrug.
“I got everything that even looked silver” Sam announces, coming down the stairs. “Better safe than sorry” Dean says, moving off to the side so his brother can throw his load of silver in.
Suddenly the floorboards above us creak, clear footsteps. Sam produces a gun from the back of his jeans heading up the stairs first, Dean and I following.
Up the slightly winding stairs and down a short hallway Lori sits in a pew alone. She was the source of the steps.
Dean shoves his brother forward towards the lone girl as he pockets his gun and grabs my hand leading us back down stairs. As we reach the basement I twirl towards him, “You think they’re gonna kiss by the end of all this?”
“If they haven’t already” He scuffs.
A few minutes later the quiet noise of a couple things hitting the ground sang from above us, “I swear if they are screwing upstairs-“ Dean complains looking up annoyed. Another thing hit the floor much harder, “Yeah Dean I don’t think that’s what’s happening” I say, pulling my gun back out Dean already ahead of me rushing up the stairs two steps at a time.
We sweep around each hall with no one in sight, Dean motions for us to split up. I nod, holding my gun tighter in front of me. Suddenly a yell and a gun goes off in the opposite direction from where I walked, I run towards the noise halting at the sight of Lori and Sam covering their faces on the floor up against a wall as Dean stood with his gun raised.
“You guys okay?” I ask lowering my gun slightly.
“Yeah” Sam nods, even as he holds his seemingly injured shoulder.
“Was that the Hook Man?” I question further trying to get caught up.
“I thought we got all the silver.” Sam announces instead, which was an answer enough.
“So did I” Dean adds
“Then why is he still here?” Sam exclaims, getting up from the floor.
“Well, maybe we missed something!” Dean yells looking around.
“Lori, where did you get that chain?” Sam looks at the girl's neck, a cross hanging from the chain.
“My father gave it to me” She answers confused.
“And did your father happen to get it from a church?” I ask very specifically.
“Yeah it was a church heirloom, he gave it to me when I started school.” She explains.
“Is it silver?!” Sam nearly yells.
“Yes!” She yells, Sam ripping the chain from around her neck just as a loud scratching noise echoes through the halls. The Hook Man nowhere in sight but the scratch evidence alone that he’s there, right near Sammy.
“Sam!” Dean yells throwing his rifle at Sam, he catches it throwing the necklace to his brother in turn. Dean runs off with it as Sam shoots at the scratching spot.
He tries to reload his gun just as the Hook Man appears in all his ugly glory, long greasy hair falling from a big black hat accompanied with a dirty black trench coat, he knocks the gun out of his hand. I pull the trigger, the rock salt launching from the gun and into the spirit causing him to disappear. I cock the gun ready to shoot again when he appears, except when he does his arms are raised in the air towards the sky, his hook melting to the floor, the iron dripping as the rest of his body burns into nothing.
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“So you’re saying a man with a hook attacked you?” The cop asked me for the fourth time, scribbling something in his notepad. “Yes! Exactly, we fought him off as best as we could and then ran out here.” I explain, for once, truthfully to a cop. He looks like he’s about to say something when he looks back up just past my shoulder, I turn my head to see the sheriff who was talking with Dean make a hand gesture. I turned back to the cop in front of me, “Alrighty then, ma’am have a good one” he tilted his hat towards me walking away.
I walk over to Dean who’s leaning on the outside of Baby, his hands in his pockets, “You think they believe us?” he asked me. “No chance” I laugh, “They’ll probably chop it up to hysteria and crazy college students.”
He scuffs opening the back door for me, I get in smiling at him as he shuts the door and gets in on the driver side. He looks through the side mirror at his brother, sighing, “I wish things could be normal for him.”
“It won’t be for a while” I answer referring to the loss of Jessica. How could anyone move on from a loss like that?
Sam approaches the car getting in wordlessly, “We could stay.” Dean offers, Sam shakes his head no.
Dean sighs again, looking at me through the rear view mirror. I mouth ‘You tried’ to him with a sad smile.
He looks forward again with a slight frown on his face, putting the car in drive we head off.
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diazsdimples · 4 months
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Inspiration Saturday!!
I did a bad thing and started a new fic, which will be known as the Musician AU. Basically, Eddie, Hen & Chim are all players in the L.A Philharmonic, Bobby is the conductor, and Buck joins them for one concert as a new hot shot cello soloist. Eddie immediately falls head over heels for the man and him and Buck fuck nasty in many many backstage rooms. This is gonna be a long snippet sorry, I'm scared it's too niche lmao
Tagged by @callmenewbie @wildlife4life @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998, thank you guys!
Eddie gets to his chair and takes a moment to fully appreciate that it’s his. He’s not played first horn for a while, let alone while being the principal, and he’s pretty hyped. He takes a moment to unpack his horn, slotting the slides carefully into place and pressing the valves up and down to make sure they don’t need any grease. He’s so focused on it that he doesn’t hear Hen sneaking up to his side, clarinet in hand, and almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks.
“So, have you seen our new soloist yet?” she asks, leaning casually against his music stand and Eddie lets out a startled yelp.
“Not yet” he responds once his heart rate has gone back to normal.
Hen picks at something in her teeth. “Apparently, he’s very good, Tracy and Jeff can’t stop talking about him. It’s getting on my nerves”.
“Makes sense that he’s good, you don’t solo with the L.A Phil if you’re shit” Eddie jokes and Hen sends him a flat look.
“You know what I mean” she responds dryly. “Was the youngest in his class at Juilliard and did a stint playing in New Zealand with the NZSO before moving back to New York and playing with the New York Phil”.
Eddie can’t help but be impressed; the New York Philharmonic isn’t easy to get into and from what he’s heard, the NZSO are no slouches either. “He must be alright then”.
“You talking about Wonder-Boy Buckley? More than alright from what I hear”. Chimney is slouching towards them, weaving his way through the chairs and music stands from where he usually sits as principal trumpet. “Cathy says he’s hot. You’d better not let him distract you, Eddie”.
Eddie rolls his eyes playfully at Chimney as he sets his music out on the stand. “I have excellent impulse control, thank you. Haven’t had a random hookup in almost a year, even though Joel’s been repeatedly trying to jump my bones”.
“He does that with everyone, don’t feel special” Chimney replies, and he pats Eddie on the back.
“Why do they call him Wonder-Boy Buckley by the way?” Eddie asks. “Buckley’s a weird name, isn’t it?”
“Buckley is his surname; his first name is Evan” Hen explains while Chimney blows into his trumpet to warm it up. “And he’s Wonder-Boy because he’s so young and hot”
Eddie scoffs at this. Wonder-Boy Buckley sounds like a bit of a prick, honestly.
“Ready for your big moment? First movement of the concerto has a pretty big horn solo, and Bobby is expecting big things from you”. Chimney is looking at him with big eyes and if Eddie didn’t know him better, he’d think the guy was actually concerned.
Eddie won’t lie, he is pretty nervous about it. The cello solo and the horn have a few moments in the piece where it’s just them playing and it’s damn high and fucking difficult. Eddie’s done it in concert before, but that was with a much more minor orchestra and not in front of an audience of 2000+ people. However, Chimney and Hen under no circumstances are allowed to know he’s nervous so he shrugs nonchalantly and says, “yeah, I’ve been practicing it loads and think I’ve got it all sorted. Unless the soloist is truly as hot as you say, I’m pretty sure nothing will throw me”.
It seems the gods are listening to Eddie and laughing at him, because at that very moment, an extremely attractive young man walks into the auditorium with a cello strapped to his back and all Eddie can think is fuck, he’s really fucking hot.
“Oh look, there he is” Chimney says, perking up and Hen’s eyes flit across the auditorium, coming to rest on the man and her jaw drops.
“Holy shit, he’s hot. And I like girls”
“How’s our resident dick-expert doing” Chimney nudges Eddie teasingly and Eddie’s currently making a conscious effort not to drool.
“Yeah he’s – uh – he’s not bad”.
Not bad? Eddie is convinced this is the hottest man he’s ever seen in his life. His muscles bulge as he swings the cello case off his back and sets it on the ground and he flicks his head up to talk to Bobby, his blond curls flouncing delightfully as he does so. Even from here, Eddie can see how his eyes are a piercing blue and he can’t help but notice the way they crinkle as he smiles at Bobby, flashing a set of perfect, white teeth. He’s got some sort of mark around his eyebrow, maybe a piercing? Eddie can’t quite tell from this distance but man, it’s got him feeling things he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Hen and Chimney are sharing a knowing look and Eddie firmly ignores them, instead picking up his horn and beginning to blow some warm air into it. Terry, Amy, Sophie and Grant, his fellow horn players, have all turned up and are setting up, striking up idle conversation with one another as they wait for Bobby to give the order to tune up and start practicing. Hen pats Eddie on the back before returning to her chair and Chimney wiggles his eyebrows as he retreats, flicking his tongue around his mouthpiece suggestively.
(No pressure) tagging @theotherbuckley @eddiebabygirldiaz @wikiangela @fionaswhvre @smilingbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @fruitandbubbles @watchyourbuck @incorrect9-1-1 @knightlywonders @housewifebuck @monsterrae1 @evanbegins @cal-daisies-and-briars @thosetwofirefighters @disasterbuckdiaz @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @shitouttabuck @jeeyuns
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avocado-writing · 2 years
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Fluff, and a LOT of grovelling.
GN!Reader x Tangerine
Tagging: @honestlywtfisgoingon​ @white-wolf-buckaroo @felhomaly @sinfulrefugy @venusthepirate @lunarpansexual @wanderedaway​​ @georgiee-riviere @mushywutty​​ (thank u bullet-train-2022 for the gif!)
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Traffic in London is always bad. A queue on any road is a given. Tangerine is mostly used to it, and prepares things to keep himself entertained in snail’s-pace journeys. Audiobooks and that.
But tonight, with you sitting in cold fury in the passenger seat, he fucking wishes he were driving anywhere else. Each moment of this is torture. The worst torture, and he’s been waterboarded before.
He risks a glance over to you. You haven’t moved. Your arms are still tightly folded across your chest, hands digging into your biceps. You’re wearing a dark blue dress shirt buttoned down just far enough to be suggestive but not immodest. The black trousers you’ve paired with it are fitted and make your arse look amazing. And you know that. 
The perfect date outfit for what was meant to be the perfect date.
“I - ” Tangerine begins, but you silence him with a single raised hand.
“I have one rule, don’t I, T? Just one rule for when we go on dates,” you state. You won’t even look over at him, instead staring fixedly out at the street. “And what is that one rule?”
Tangerine drums his fingers on the wheel. Sighs.
“Don’t kill anyone.”
“Don’t kill anyone!” you agree, now throwing your hands in the air for dramatic effect, “Not even ‘don’t fight anyone’, because I know you can’t always promise that with your job. But T, come on. Three people.”
Yeah. He can’t argue with that. 
The evening had been going so well, too. It had been your first date night for months. He’d taken you to your favourite museum earlier, then to a show. You’d practically lit up the room with how big your smile was. Then tonight you were meant to sit down and have a lovely candlelit dinner in a restaurant he’d had to wait months to get a reservation at. 
Appetisers came out fine. Things were going well. Then someone tried to stab him on his way to the loos.
‘Course he couldn’t let that stand, especially when he’d noticed the bloke was one of the leftover cartel members from his last job. The attacker had tried to leg it, Tangerine had pursued, and he’d ended up in a fight with three of them that had left them all dead in the restaurant kitchen.
He’d had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he dialled clean-up. The two of you had needed to leg it out of the building, and now… this. The silence.
Any other day he might argue with you. Say that of course he couldn’t risk the man getting away, he needed to make sure the whole situation was dealt with. But honestly, he probably could have tracked the fucker down with Lemon tomorrow. He was just being greedy.
He pulls into the driveway of your home. Without uttering a single word, you undo your seatbelt, hop out of the car, and open the front door. 
He hates this. Feels like he’s being told off by a teacher. Also feels like he deserves it.
Tangerine sighs, leans his head back against the driver’s seat headrest.
Alright. Time for a totally different sort of clean up operation.
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You wake up the next morning to the smell of pancakes.
You shift in your bed, find Tangerine’s side empty. Blearily you sit yourself up and take in the scene.
Music is playing. The radio station you like to listen to, but Tangerine finds annoying because the hosts get on his tits. On the bedside table next to you is a quite frankly arrogantly large bouquet of your favourite flowers, carefully arranged in the only vase you own.
Despite yesterday you find yourself smiling. The anger you were holding onto begins to evaporate from your body. It disappears completely when Tangerine walks into the room holding a tray with breakfast on it.
“You’ve been working hard,” you say, chuckling. Tangerine lays the tray on your lap. Pancakes, tea, orange juice. Oh god, the bloody bastard can be so romantic when he wants to be.
“Wanted to apologise for fucking up yesterday.”
You reach out to hold his face in your hands. Tangerine is very rarely humble, but also knows when he’s been out of line. 
“Sorry for being a twat,” he sighs. He takes your hand in his, presses a kiss into your palm. His moustache tickles and you caress his lips with your thumb.
“I’m sure I can think of a way for you to make it up to me,” you say, and your mind is already brimming with possibilities.
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cantstoptheimagines · 2 years
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Dating Them Would Include…
Summary — Headcanons for Tom Lucitor from Star vs the Forces of Evil!
Requests ➳ Anonymous — Can I request a fluffy headcanon about Fluff relationship with his shy!gn!human! reader for Tom Lucitor (Star vs Force of Evil)? Please?? ~🐇 ➳ Anonymous — Can I request a fluffy imagine with prompts: “Don’t be shy.” and “They’re going to love you, don’t worry!” about Tom Lucitor (Star vs Force of Evil) introduces his shy!gn!human! reader to his parents at his Lucitor family lake house and Wrathmelior is all over her? Hint: Wrathmelior really takes to like his shy!gn!human! reader because of their sweet and gentle personality. I live for flustered Tom! 💕 ~ 🐇 ➳ Anonymous — Hello! 😊 Can I request a fluffy cuddling headcanon with his shy!gn!human! reader for Tom Lucitor (Star vs Force of Evil)? I live for flustered Tom! 💗 Please?? ~🐇
Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Pure fluff; mentions of kissing; Tom is the Prince of the Underworld and all that; I haven’t watched this show in forever.
Notes ➳ Word Count is 674. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them). ➳ Multiple requests were combined for this one since they were so similar.  ➳ “Don’t be shy.” ➳ “Don’t worry! They’re going to love you!”
FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule
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meeting since you’re friends with star and marco
you were returning one of the laser puppies that had been wandering along the sidewalk
he had been at marco’s house to... cause problems for diaz? i don’t know, that sounds like a tom thing to do, right?
his jaw practically hit the floor at the sight of you
and his eyes only left you when you waved goodbye to the three of them
“who is that?!”
star was almost beaming at the opportunity to finally get rid of her annoying ex-boyfriend 
plus she thought you’d be cute together, but whatevs
grabbing his hand, she basically drags him out the door to catch up with you, shouting your name for the whole neighborhood to hear
you turn, obviously confused and slightly embarrassed as she comes to a stop in front of you
“meet tom! okay, bye!”
tom can feel himself about to burst into flames when she quickly skips away, giggling loudly, “yes! finally!”
“what was that about?”
oh...
oh...
right... he has to talk to you now, doesn’t he?
somehow, someway, tom managed to not scare you off with his whole ‘prince of the underworld’ thing
which led to a friendship
and an even better relationship
or, as marco liked to call it, “sickening”
whenever you went to hang out with star and marco, they knew tom couldn’t be very far behind
the two of you were always together
tom is completely wrapped around your finger
constantly following you around like a lost laser puppy
wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his head lazily against your shoulder
holding your hand, feeling the need to perform even the smallest gesture to show everyone that you’re his
sometimes he’ll swing your arms back and forth just to make you smile if he thinks you’re going to let go
you (and marshmallow) help him with his temper 
his eyes would be glowing and he could feel flames beginning to flicker around him as he glares at the demon in front of him
but everything suddenly becomes calm when he feels a gentle hand on his back and hears you quietly whisper, “tom? i wanna go now. will you take me home?”
he’ll blink as his feet, which he hadn’t even noticed had left the floor, returned to the ground. glaring at the smirking demon who had made him angry in the first place, he sharply exhales and rolls his eyes before finally looking at you, “sure. yeah, c’mon, let’s go.”
he’d quickly forget about the demon who had made him angry in the first place as you wrap your arm around his and tug him along to his awaiting carriage
which leads us to cuddles
man, does tom like to cuddle!
hiding his face against your shirt as he rests his head on your stomach
tucking his arms beneath you to pull you even closer
closing his eyes when you begin running your fingers through his hair
feeling a smile spreading across his face as he quietly mumbles, “do you wanna meet my parents?”
and finally glaring at you when he’s shoved unceremoniously off the bed and onto the floor as you loudly shout, “what?!”
that’s how you ended up nervously twiddling your thumbs outside the lucitor family lake house, thinking about tom’s encouraging words of “don’t be shy!” and “don’t worry! they’re going to love you!”
fortunately for you, he’s right
unfortunately for him, he’s right
tom is eventually left pouting alone on the sofa as he slowly comes to the conclusion that his parents love you more than him, shaking his head while he sulks with crossed arms
his life is now constantly filled with questions from his mom as to when he’s bringing you around for dinner again while his dad tries to decide which of tom’s embarrassing childhood photos would be your favorite
of course, he’s happy that you get along with his parents! but sometimes he thinks he might have made a mistake by inviting you over that day, lol
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Feelings Sold Separately
CHAPTER THREE (THE RULES)
Modern!Aemond x Reader (SUGAR BABY/SUGAR DADDY!AU)
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TAGS - (REPOSTED FROM AO3) -
Alternate Universe - Sugar DaddySugar BabySugar Baby AUAUokay this is a whole ass story that's just one long ass brain fartliterally i am just coming up with this on the spotlow key really love it thoughSugar Baby/Sugar Daddyobviouslytalks of class issuesaemonds been hurt in the pasti think there will be some sexy stuff eventuallywait fuck i didn't mention this is a modern!aumodern!AUAlternate Universe - Modern Setting<3Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen is Bad at Feelingsstop that was recommended but so accurateI don't know how to do tagsI'm SorryI promise it's goodAnd no one diesand it's just so classically a sugar baby/ sugar daddy au it hurtsreader works at a cafe ... obviouslythis will follow a similar storyline to the show just modern and also not at allFamily Issueswait probably dom/sub vibes tooDom/subLight Dom/subclearly i don't know where this is going yetmy readers are always written fat because i am fatso keep that in mind
+ + + + + +
Friday shifts always seemed to go by fast, the regulars, and those who took fridays off to shop in the city, flooding in with hardly any reprieve. Eyla and Y/n served coffee drink after coffee drink, the pastry case practically bare, donuts and croissants suddenly much more popular than they had been all month. “Thank the Gods it's the weekend!” Eyla cried, putting her coat on in the back room as the two girls got ready to leave.
“I just hate that weekends are only two days.” Y/n pouted.
“Speaking of days off.” Eyla began, rummaging through her purse. “Any plans with Mr Sexy Voice?” She once again raised and lowered her eyebrows in suggestion. “Also known as a literal fucking Targaryen.” She scoffed a laugh.
“I haven’t heard from him so I don’t think so.” Y/n lowered her head, filling her coat pockets with her things, the new phone included.
“Ugh bummer. You should text him.”
“I don’t want to bother him.” “He’s literally paying you to bother him, I don’t think he’d mind.”
“He’s not paying me to bother him.” Y/n rolled her eyes. “He’s paying me to …” She paused, realizing she actually wasn’t sure what he would be paying her for.
“Sex?” Eyla asked.
“NO!”
“What? It’s a genuine question!” Y/n just huffed, hands in her pockets as she waited for Eyla to hurry up so the two of them could leave. “Okay I’m ready.”
The two of them went out the front door, locking it behind them before saying their goodbyes, hugging quickly, and saying goodbye for the weekend. “Stay safe!” Y/n called out as she watched Eyla turn the corner, the both of them going in semi-opposite directions. She turned her own corner, hands still in her pockets, clinging to any warmth they could.
“Y/n.” A deep voice called out, one she would have, before, gotten ready to fight, but the silvery blonde hair and eyepatch made her realize it wasn’t a thug wanting her petty change that was in her pocket, just the man that wished to make her wallet overflow with bills. “Did you get my text message?” He asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone as he leaned against a black car, Y/n stood in front of him like a deer in the headlights.
“Oh.” She whispered, she hadn’t even thought to check the phone after her shift ended, something she never had to do before. “I’m sorry, no.” She kicked herself mentally, ‘I should be better at this’, pulling out the phone and turning it on she noticed five messages from Aemond, ‘that’s quite a few’. She smiled, looking back up at him, ‘at least he seems to still like me’. “I’m sorry, genuinely, I’m not used to having a phone to check.”
“Hmm.” He stood up fully, his hands now clasped behind his back, his eye searching Y/n’s face for any hint of a lie. “I just wanted to know if you were free after work.” He asked, his eye finally meeting hers.
“Yes.” She blurted out, genuinely having never had a thing to do after work, she knew the answer quickly. “I’m free.” She said a little more composed this time.
“Hmm.” Aemond hummed again, ‘I swear he knows I like that sound more than I should’, he gave a smile, one that clearly he didn’t mean, the gesture never meeting his eyes, before he opened the car's passenger door. “Are you hungry at all?” He asked as he gestured for Y/n to get in, her body giving a slight start as she realized that yes, she was the one getting into a fancy car with a rich guy, this was in fact her new life.
“I guess so.” She admitted, buckling herself into the seat, her feet rigidly laid in front of her, her mind not allowing her to truly relax.
“Do you have a favorite restaurant?” Aemond asked, buckling himself in as well, filled with a similar amount of anxiousness, the two sat comfortably in their seats, but uncomfortably in their skin.
Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “Unless you count the Cafe I work in.” Aemond shook his head ‘no’. “Then, I have never eaten out before. Um, do you have a favorite restaurant?” She asked anxiously in return.
“I do.” He hummed, starting the car up and checking his mirrors, pulling out soon after before speaking again. “It’s not far.” He cleared his throat. “Do you by any chance like waffles?” He smirked, never once taking his eyes off the road.
“I love waffles.” Y/n smiled back.
+
The waffle place wasn't far from Y/n’s work, just a few blocks away, the place glowing a subtle blue, the sign lighting up the street as the sun began to slowly set. “This is your favorite restaurant?” Y/n smiled, standing just far enough back from the building to take in its full glory, the inside more traditionally decorated, a stark contrast to the world around it, the blue glow warmer than the harsh white that could be found everywhere else, funky patterns adorning any bit of fabric the place had to offer.
Aemond shuffled his weight from foot to foot, suddenly anxious about his pick, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while. “If you would rather we could always …” He began.
“No! No.” Y/n shouted. “I love it, I’m just shocked that you like it here.” She looked him up and down, him once again wearing a suit under his tailored trench coat, no doubt a watch, that cost the down payment on the building in front of them, nestled beneath his sleeves.
Aemond just took a step forward, opening the door, some man in the back waving and calling out his name, Aemond’s movements so clearly pulling him to a specific table, his actions effortless and natural, as if he lived here. “My Mother used to take me here, just the two of us, when I was a child.” He softly said, a bit of resistance lacing his words, as if he was protecting the memory, yet honoring it at the same time.
Aemond had stopped in front of a booth, one away from windows, closer to the back, no doubt to hide his famous identity from nosey people. “I can see why.” Y/n said, sitting down on one of the booths benches, pulling her coat off before placing it beside her, quickly pulling out the new phone and her wallet, placing both on the table. Aemond did the same before taking off his suit jacket too, rolling up his button up shirt sleeves, showing off his toned forearms, the right one covered in an intricate dragon tattoo, the black ink contrasting his skin perfectly.
“This is for you.” Aemond cleared his throat, pulling Y/n out of her daze, a small bank card held out to her, the green shining in the Waffle house's light. “It has the entry fee of a hundred dollars on it.” Y/n’s eyes grew wide at those words, the card felt heavy in her hand, ‘Hightower Bank’ sprawled across it in fancy gold lettering, numbers underneath it, and her name written in puffed out plastic for all to see. “I have no access to the account, I can only send it money.” Aemond ensured, pulling out a small notepad and pen from his coat, then following a large folder. Y/n placed the card in her wallet, the old thing looking so undeserving of such a fancy card, a weird representation of how Y/n felt. Sure, a bank card had always been something she meant to get, but certainly not one from the richest bank in all of King's Landing, let alone most likely all of the adjoining cities and countries.
“Aemond, my favorite customer!” A man cheered, placing two menus on the table, quickly cutting off the previous conversation. “What can I get you two to drink?” He asked, looking at Y/n with kind but wondrous eyes.
“Can I have a water please?” Y/n asked, her eye’s meeting the man’s, then Aemonds.
“A water and a pot of coffee please, Daris.” Aemond watched as Daris walked away, Y/n still nose deep in the menu, trying to pick what she wanted, the menu full of choices, ‘too many’, if you asked her. “See anything you like?” Aemond hummed, pretending to look over the menu as intently as Y/n was.
“Yeah, everything.” Y/n laughed, looking at the small pictures that showed what select dishes looked like, the whip cream, chocolate, and fresh fruits all calling her name.
“Why don’t you get a few things?”
“I just got a bank card, Aemond.” Y/n scolded. “I don’t want to spend it all in one go.”
Aemond let out a low hum, this one clearly drawn out in frustration. “Why don’t we go over the rules of this arrangement before ordering?” He asked, waiting for Y/n to protest or ask a question, instead she just nodded her head, waiting for him to continue. “To start, what would you like to be paid?” He asked, clicking his pen open.
Y/n pondered for a second, looking around the dinner as if the walls held the answers. “Well, what.” She huffed out a puff of air. “What am I being paid for?”
Aemond smiled, the gesture genuine, impressed by her assertion, even if it wasn’t as confident as he would have liked. “Hmm.” He hummed, quickly wiping the smile off of his face, leaning back in his seat. “Well, I need a plus one to work events, parties with possible partners and their romantic interests of the month.” Y/n gave him a small smile at that. “Same with family events, I don’t think I can stomach another dinner alone with them.”
“Are they nice?”
“Some of them.”
“I guess, well, that’s better than none of them.”
Aemond chuckled. “You and my sister would get along well.” He leaned back in, the light above the table once again highlighting his features. “I also would like you to spend the majority of your weekends with me, and a night out of the week to go to dinner, just the two of us.” The last two requests seemed to be said with much more heart, want, as if they were the true reason he asked Y/n here today.
“As long as we can have dinner here.” She pointed her finger to the table harshly, as to prove her point. “Then you have a deal.”
“A deal?”
“Yes, would you like to shake on it?” She asked, her confidence slowly fading, yet she kept a hold on it.
Aemond held his hand out, grasping hers and lightly shaking it. “It’s a deal.” He smiled, Y/n shooting him one too before pulling her hand away. “Also, whenever we go out together, I will be paying.” His voice was lower now, telling, not asking.
Before Y/n could argue Daris had brought their drinks, handing each of them a water and an empty mug, placing the pot of coffee, milk and sugar, in the middle. “Have you decided what you want to eat?” He asked, clicking his own pen in anticipation.
“I’ll have my usual, please.” Aemond asked, the plain waffles with a side of different toppings calling his name, as it always did.
“Can I have the chocolate chip waffles please?” Y/n asked, handing Daris the menu, and giving him a sweet smile.
Aemond looked at Y/n, wondering why she had settled for just one thing, but choosing to ignore it for the time being, Daris walking away shortly after. “Back to my original question. What would you like to be paid?”
Y/n sighed, totally out of her depth with this question. “You’ve had … Arrangements before right?” She asked, a nod of his head signaling ‘yes’. “What did you pay them?”
“This isn’t about them, Y/n, this is about you.”
Y/n sighed, as excited as she was for this whole thing to kickstart, she hated being the one to make decisions, though she was sure Aemond hated having her make decisions too, the look on his face teetering to and from anticipation and pure agony. “You’ve already given me a hundred dollars, which is a lot by the way.” Aemond gave her a look of disbelief. “So, what about a hundred each month? If that isn’t too much.”
Aemond let out a laugh, a mildly loud and gutful laugh. “Y/n, I only gave you a hundred dollars to open the bank account, I intend to pay you much more than that.” Y/n was now the one with a look of disbelief on her face. “You get paid minimum wage at the cafe, correct?” She nodded her head ‘yes’. “Why don’t we start with that then? Hmm?”
“Aemond.” Y/n pleaded.
“I could pay you a thousand dollars a minute and I wouldn't falter a step the next day.” He shook his head, pouring his coffee, taking a sip of it black before continuing. “I’m doing you a favor by paying you minimum wage, Little Dragon.” The nickname slipped off his tongue, and before he could apologize or take it back, a smile spread across Y/n’s face, her eyes softening at the nickname. “Is it a deal?” He asked, holding out his hand to once again shake on the agreement.
“Can we at least circle back to the whole ‘money thing’ in a bit?” She asked, holding her hand out, but not close enough for him to grab it. “Just to talk about it.” She added, once again pleading with him.
“Hmm.” Aemond liked her bargaining skills, the kind eyes doing wonders on his leniency, just solidifying that she would be perfect as a plus one to some upcoming events. “Deal.”
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