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macfrog · 6 months

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if patrick bateman were a woman

cowboy like me [bonus chapter]

surprise!! happy halloween!!!! may your day be spooky and your sex be filthy. here's a bonus chapter of clm to celebrate. love y'all !!! despite being cowboy joel and his reader, this is not canon. does not happen in the cowboy like me series. i wish. it's just a little bit of spooky szn fun with my two favorite star-crossed lovers. !!!

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: sarah throws a halloween party. you and joel have a little too much fun.

warnings: as pwp as a macfrog fic can get, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lil bit titty appreciation, a singular daddy mention, a single slice of degradation, but also praise kink, unprotected piv sex, creampie, it's set on halloween, alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 4k

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Ice, pretzels, lime juice. Ice, pretzels, lime juice.

I’m giving you one job. Ice, pretzels, lime juice. That’s it.

That sounds like three jobs, you’d said.

Sarah ignored you. Be here at seven, alright? Ice – pretzels – lime juice!

It’s seven thirty. You’re finally on her front porch. The tiny section of bare skin between your stockings and black skirt is pimpled with goosebumps. With each inhale you suck in the sickly-sweet scent of fake blood, splattered across your face. You have a bag of ice slung over one arm, a bag of pretzels balanced on top, a bottle of juice hanging from your fingers and an axe under your elbow.

Only – it’s not lime juice. And the axe is plastic.

Sarah opens the door and spots your blunder instantly. “That’s lemon.”

“I know. They didn’t have any lime.”

“They didn’t have any lime? Where the hell did you go?”

“It’s Halloween, Sarah. Everybody and their fucking grandma is drinking tonight. Lemon tastes the exact –”

“Ah!” She holds a finger up. Her red cape flutters in the breeze. “It does not taste the same. Otherwise, why would it be two separate things?”

“Hey, Wonder Woman,” you drone, “mind letting me in? I’m fucking freezing.”

She scoffs, and steps aside. Mutters, “’s not the same thing,” as you pass.

You click down the hall, head rolling to check out her decorating. The living room and kitchen are lit by constellations of tiny tealights, flickering and blinking and casting tall, warped shadows across the walls. There’s a purple neon sign sat against the wall that reads Spooky. By the fireplace sit the two pumpkins she and her boyfriend carved last night; she’d sent you photos and asked you to pick a winner. When you chose the Iron Man head over the silhouette of Tinkerbell, she sent back a middle finger emoji.

Y: It’s cleaner cut. What do you expect? Shoddy work, Miller.

S: asshole.

Sarah’s slotting the ice into the freezer. Struggling, by the sound of it. You swing back into the kitchen to find Wonder Woman on her ass, hammering her fist against the frozen pack to fit it in.

You’re about to offer help, when someone else does it for you. Someone lower, gravellier. A voice like thunder in the distance, a storm approaching.

“You need a hand?” he asks, and when you turn, you almost drop your fucking axe.

He glances to you as he emerges from the dark hallway, the warm glow licking at his graying flicks of hair, nestling in the deep-set lines on his face. His eyes dart down to where your fingers now clutch the plastic handle, holding it against the hem of your skirt like it’ll do anything to cover your modesty.

Your modesty, meaning – the line of sexy black lace curling around your thighs, snug against the supple skin.

What the fuck are you doing here? you mouth, as Joel paces across the kitchen towards his daughter.

He shrugs, palms outstretched. It’s my house?

You roll your eyes, run your tongue like lightning across your scarlet lips. Sarah straightens up, huffs hair from her face and stares blankly at Joel.

He bends, takes the entire bag in one huge palm, and reorganizes the drawer with the other. Your eye drifts to his bicep, flexing under the tight seam of a dark tee. The bag of ice cradled in his arm leaves weak little droplets, running down the tan skin to the crook of his elbow. You want to fucking lick them up, gather the frozen beads on your tongue, hike up up up to the curve of his shoulder, the crook of his neck, the –

“Hey.” Sarah clicks her fingers in front of your face. “You hearin’ me?”

“Huh? No, yeah. No. I wasn’t lis– What did you say?”

She sighs again. Joel groans as he pushes off his knee and stands tall behind her. Wipes the water from his arm with one swipe of his palm.

“Would you put these in a bowl?” his daughter asks, shoving the bag of pretzels into your suited chest. She shuffles off, announcing she’s going to pick a playlist for the night.

Suited is perhaps giving you too much credit. You’re in a mini skirt and waistcoat, a red tie slung loose around your neck. You’ve a clear poncho draped over your shoulders, but with the heat from the million and one fucking candles – and the flush that the forty-something-year-old with his wide frame and fitted sweatpants and toned chest and his big fucking hands has cast over you – it’ll soon be discarded to the newel post.

But when you reach up for the bowl on the top shelf of the cabinet, pushing forward with a palm on the countertop, the marble digging into your pelvis and forcing your ass to jut out – you think yourself pretty fucking smug to be in a skirt that hugs your cheeks and not much else.

You turn, the lip of the bowl in your fingers, and smile sweetly at Joel, whose gaze returns north as you approach him.

“You got nothin’ better to do with your night than babysit a bunch of twenty-five-year-olds?” you murmur, spilling the bag into the blue bowl. You place a pretzel on your tongue, humming at the taste.

Joel smiles, popping the cap off his beer. He spills the amber liquid into his mouth. “I’ll be in my room.”

Your eyebrows lift. “That so? You need any company in there?”

“Nope. Rangers game is on. I’ll be busy.”

The words ghost across your lips. You’ll be busy, you breathe. Joel nods. Then looks you up and down.

“American Psycho?”

“What?”

He flicks his wrist up and down your figure. “What’s his name, again? Pat–”

“Patrick Bateman,” you say together. You nod.

“That’s the one.” Then he turns, leans his jaw nearer until his lips line with your ear. Your eyes shoot across to the empty doorway. Sarah’s skipping song after song in the living room.

Joel’s finger slips beneath the lace trim of your stockings, tugging gently. “I don’t remember ‘im in these, though,” he says, voice low.

You gulp. Swallow to push your heart back into place. “Well,” you glance down, lifting your thigh closer to him, “if he were a woman, he woulda dressed like this.”

“That’s somethin’ I’d like to see,” Joel murmurs, eyes locked on the place where lace separates from skin.

“Yeah?”

He nods. Growls, “Yeah.”

And then he’s walking away.

Within an hour, the house is jumping. Literally. Almost.

You sit at the kitchen island, sipping on a beer, staring down the hall at the sea of bodies – of nylon and polyester, of purples and oranges, of headbands and props and cloaks and hats. There are a lot more than forty people here – a lot more than Sarah intended to turn up.

A lot more than you know, too. She’s barely even four years younger than you, but most of these kids look like they just walked out of middle school. Of the handful of faces you recognize, one is sat opposite you, his arm draped over Sarah’s shoulder, her hand locked in his. She and Ty have been dating for a year now, surviving long-distance when she jets back off to school every few months.

The other you know, unfortunately for you, is swaying by your side. Leaning a little too heavily into you. Asking you questions about college, and then talking over your answers to tell you stories about his college. Asking you questions about films you like, and then interrupting to gawk at the titles you reel off. The only times he doesn’t jump in over your answer, are the times he’s asking who you think might win in a fight between prime Mike Tyson and prime Muhammad Ali. And that’s only because you don’t have an answer to give him.

Jace. Ty’s best friend. Fucking – loser.

“And who the fuck are you s’posed to be, anyways?” he asks, slinging a heavy arm over your shoulder. He reeks of beer, warm and stale. His jaw’s swinging, cheeks popping and suckling on a shriveled piece of gum.

You scowl, shrugging the uncomfortable weight from the nape of your neck. “Patrick Bateman,” you mutter.

“Who?”

“Christian Bale. You know, when he –” Sarah mimes lifting an axe over her shoulder, takes a swing through the air, across the island to Jace.

“No fucking idea,” he says, shaking his head. You’re not surprised.

“Where’s your axe?” Ty asks, as Sarah nuzzles back into his side.

You shrug. “Saw someone using it to stir the punch earlier. ‘s probably in the toilet or something.”

He laughs, flashing his dimpled cheeks. He’s got glistening eyes beneath long, black eyelashes. He’s handsome. Sharp jaw, full lips. Sarah links her fingers at his side, plants her cheek against his shoulder. She’s comfortable. She’s safe. Your chest warms at the sight.

He squeezes her arm, and they share a meaningful glance before there’s a yell from across the kitchen, and their attention is diverted.

When they turn to watch two of Sarah’s high school friends sword-fighting, wielding a plastic lightsaber and your axe, you slink off, swiping two beers from the fridge. Swift and silent, you scale the stairs and fade into the darkened hallway at the top, in pursuit of your own dark-eyed, sharp-jawed comfort.

The sliver of light at the end of the hall draws you in, footsteps silent along the soft carpet. Up here, tucked away in the corner of the house, far from the rattling music and rumble of boisterous chatter – you can hear the soft roar of a crowd, the crack of ball against bat.

Your hip nudges the door open, trickle of condensation running over your knuckles. Joel’s eyes are already on you. He’s laying on his bed, legs outstretched, knee cocked. One arm lies idly on his thigh. You get the feeling he shifted it quickly when he saw the door move.

He balances his chin on the end of the remote, purses his lips and lifts his head. “Now,” he mumbles, “you’re s’posed to be downstairs.”

You shrug, holding the bottles up. “Thought you might need a top-up.”

His eyes thin. He sits up straight, swings his legs over the edge of the bed. You come to a stop between his knees, holding the beer down to him. He hums, taking it with his eyes locked on yours.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he says, and his eyes begin to drift down.

You tilt your head back at the same time he does, lifting the lip of your own bottle. The cold drink washes over your tongue, bitter and blunt in its taste, leaving a furry feeling on your gums. When your chin lowers again, Joel’s hand is on the back of your thigh.

He’s staring at the two knolls between you – your breasts round, nipples peaking under the tight waistcoat.

“Welcome,” you reply, swirling the liquid around in the curved glass. Your voice is barely there. But he hears you, and he must hear the want laced deep through that one quiet word, because he instantly slides his beer onto his nightstand.

He curves both hands around your thighs, fingers lifting higher and higher between your legs until they’re crossing over lace and onto bare skin.

You shuffle forward, leaning your arms on his shoulders and propping your knees on the bed either side of his body. Your skirt rides up, exposing the shard of shocking red lace beneath the pinstripe material.

Joel sees it. Like it’s a rag and he’s a bull. It charges something deep inside him. Something that awakens beneath the thin line of fabric between your legs.

You can feel your pulse in your clit. Fluttering, fucking – hammering. Your cunt feels painfully empty, clenching around nothing. Joel’s palms surf across the tops of your thighs until his fingers are teetering along the hem of your skirt.

“Off,” he instructs, swatting the poncho away.

You shake it from your shoulders the same way you shook the blond downstairs off. Joel nods as the material crumples to the floor. He hooks a hand under your knee and yanks your body closer to his. You almost throw the beer bottle across his bed.

“J– fucking hell, my –”

“Shut up,” he clips, and grabs the beer from your grasp to deposit it alongside his own.

His hands find the tiny buttons of your waistcoat, fingers slip through the gaps between them where your skin peeks through. You can feel his hot breath on your chest. A wave of need washes over you, a desire from deep within your marrow to feel him everywhere. His breath, his tongue, his hands. All of him.

Your entire body weight rests on his shoulders, your fingers locking his shirt in two tight fists. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. Barely seems to notice. He pulls apart the first button, watches with a dark gaze as your breasts spill over. The second button pops open easily, and they bounce lower. When he unhooks the third, they drop into place, nipples pointed, welcoming him in between them.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he whispers as he leans in, mouth flattening against the smooth skin between them. “No bra or nothin’.”

“Knew you’d be here,” you reply, head rolling back as he licks a trail across to the darker flesh of your nipple. His lips close around it and he suckles gently. Your nails dig into his scalp.

He pushes the waistcoat over your shoulders and it drops to the carpet, pooled inside the shell of poncho. As soon as it falls, his hands begin the climb up the seam of your thigh, resting on the brush of red – where he feels the quickly dampening mark on the fabric.

“Thought as much,” he says, head cocking to watch your expression warp as he rubs slow circles into your clit. His voice is as soft as his touch, innocent almost, when he asks, “She like that?”

“Ye-ah,” you choke, leaning back.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and uses his other hand to fish beneath his sweatpants. He rubs himself under the gray cotton, watches as your fingers clutch at the waistband to tug it down, releasing him.

His heavy cock springs up between your bodies, dabs precome on the pointed tail of your tie. You giggle, loosening the knot and pulling the thin silk over your head. Your hands wrap around him, twisting and pumping and dragging the milky arousal from his slit down the smooth, warm skin. Joel’s breath catches when your thumbs swipe across his head.

His fingers slip behind your knees and pull them apart, pull them wider on the mattress. You lean forward, chest brushing against his parted lips, taking your panties in one hand and guiding him along your slit with the other.

You cover him in your arousal, the veined skin soon slick and pearlescent. His wide head slips between your opening, notching against your entrance and forcing the breath from your lungs.

His hands sit firmly on your waist, pushing down on your hips, pushing and pushing until he sinks snug into your cunt. When he pauses, his mouth agape and eyes stuck on the sight of his body connecting to yours, you whine.

“More,” you mewl, voice dripping with need, drizzling all over him.

“We gotta –”

“More.”

“Baby,” Joel says, voice flat but crumbling. “We gotta go slow. I’m gonna – You’re gonna make me come, dressed like that, if we go too quick.”

But fuck, you want to feel him. Want him to buck his hips and fill you in one go – fuck the pain. Fuck the discomfort, fuck the way your walls would clamp in a vice grip around him. You want him to fuck you. Want to be fucked so good that you have to time your moaning with the bassline of the music downstairs, unable to contain the sounds in your throat. Fucked so good that you waddle out of the room, that you fling yourself back onto the couch and wince in pain, a sharp memory of the breadth of him shooting between your legs.

Your hips circle, the heat of your cunt swirling around and around on his tip. He groans, hands tightening on your waist to hold you still.

“Stop it, darlin’,” he growls, the words clawing from between his teeth.

“F-fuck me, then,” you moan, curling your back to slowly edge down on him.

“Ask nicer.”

You smile, heavy lids falling closed. “Please?”

His hands roam around the curve of your ass. He starts to push again. “Nicer.”

Your mouth opens wider the further he slides into you. The more he claims of your body, the further you open for him, the warmer your welcome. Your head tips back, eyes tighten until you see stars. When you feel a weight around your neck, you flutter your lashes open, blink the cyan-colored sparkles from your vision.

Joel pulls your jaw back down to face him. Squeezes on your pulse, holding you between his middle finger and thumb.

“Nicer,” he demands.

You lean in, small hands linking around his thick wrist. “Fuck me, please, daddy,” you whisper.

And he smiles like a fucking devil. Eyes drawn black like ink. He pulls you in until your chin brushes against the rough bristle of his own, lines his bottom lip with yours.

Into your mouth, he asks, “You think you can take it, babygirl? Think it’ll fit?”

You nod desperately, anchoring yourself on his wrist. “Know it will.”

He’s only halfway in. Your heartbeat is thudding around your body, focusing hardest on your clit. Your hips move again, and Joel allows it, sitting back to watch as you sink down further.

“Go on,” he says, watching your body slowly attach to his, “’f you think you can do it. Be a big girl ‘n take it. Slow.”

Something caught between a laugh and a whimper drags between your painted lips – something dripping in desire, built from a need to prove yourself to him, to take all of him inside your body, to feel him in the deepest parts of yourself. You push on him, loosen his grip around your neck and flatten your palms on his chest. And you curve your back, pushing him deeper.

“’s my girl,” Joel says, quietly, as if to himself. “This what you wanted? Comin’ up here, dressed like that?”

Your teeth hold onto your bottom lip. “Like what?” you purr, leaning forward until your noses brush.

Joel tips his chin up, lips flush against yours. “Like a little fuckin’ slut.”

You laugh weakly, feeling him finally in his entirety. “Fuck.”

Joel’s hands take your waist, pushing you down until the pain sends bolts of lightning across your vision. The bruising feeling of his head against your cervix. The sweet stretch of your skin opening around his.

“Beggin’ for it, weren’t ya? ‘n now look, you can’t hardly take it.”

“I can take it,” you hiss back, bracing yourself on the mattress. Your hips lift, holding onto him, bouncing up and down steadily. “I can take it,” you repeat, like a mantra, like the only thing keeping you in the room still. The only thing reminding your body to keep moving.

Joel holds a palm steady against the bottom of your stomach, rubs his thumb delicately against your skin. “So deep, baby. ‘m so fuckin’ deep inside you. That feel nice?”

The meat of your ass slaps against the tops of his thighs. You’re quickening, eyes screwing shut. He feels so good. Fills you up so fucking good. Your legs start to loosen, knees weakening the more you fuck yourself on him. Your head drops between your shoulders when his thumb lowers, circles gently at your clit.

“Keep – keep doing that. Fuck, Joel – touch me. Keep touching me.”

“’boutta come, ain’t you?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“Yeah,” he says, “she’s about to come.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, hips rolling now, losing rhythm between the split of his cock inside you and the lull of his thumb on your clit. Your back arches, vision begins to blur. Your lungs close in on themselves as you give one final gasp to the ceiling, and let go.

Your walls clamp hard around him, and in one swift movement, your bodies are flipped. When you open your eyes again, you’re on your back, Joel’s figure towering over you.

“’attagirl,” he mutters, palms flat against the underside of your thighs. He pushes them flat, folding you in two, your knees resting by your shoulders. “So close, darlin’. Ain’t gonna last.”

You’re shaking your head, holding onto his neck, thighs trembling. “I – can’t, Joel.”

“Yeah, you can. You can,” he assures, dipping his head to place his lips on yours. Your mouth opens up for him, tongue falls against his own. It’s barely a kiss – you’re licking at one another, sure, but there’s nothing tender or gentle about it. Joel pulls away only to glance down and guide himself back inside you. “Gonna be my good girl, aren’t you? Gonna make me come.”

With one seamless thrust, he’s back inside you, pressing your legs harder against your torso. You whine, a blur of pain and pleasure mixing where he fucks you.

“Good girl,” he says, tongue skimming along his top lip. “Nice ‘n wide, that’s it.”

Your back arches into him, arms tighten around his neck, lips settle curved around his own. You’re moaning, his name releasing itself from your mouth in shots of breath. Joel takes your knee and hooks it over his shoulder, letting the other fall to his hip. The angle forces him deeper. Deeper and harder.

But he’s starting to jump. Bucking randomly. He’s panting your name, teeth grazing against your neck in attempt to hold on just a little longer, feel you squeeze him a little more.

“You’re close,” you slur.

“’m close,” he says.

“Gonna come in me –?”

“Baby –”

“– ’n send me – ah – back downstairs full of you? Runnin’ outta me?”

Joel’s head shakes. His eyes tighten. “Fuck, darlin’. Dirty fuckin’ mouth.”

“C’mon,” you beg, “give it to – m-me.”

His hips hammer against yours, punching against the edge of your cunt harshly. You sob out, nails digging into his shoulders, until he halts, and you feel the warmth of him spurting deep inside your body. Feel the way he tenses, empties, and stills.

Your head falls back against the mattress. Joel’s still nuzzled against your neck, breathing labored, lips soaking wet against your skin. You sift your fingers through his hair, combing through it as he comes to.

His chest rocks against yours. Feeling starts to sharpen again, the orgasmic haze starting to bleed into the past. The walls of the house thud with the music from downstairs. You feel the weight of his body on top of yours again.

“Up,” you groan, pushing on his shoulders.

Joel scoffs, pushing against the mattress and rolling over beside you. He slips out, his spend seeping out and spilling onto your thigh.

Your fingers intertwine with his by your side, your nails scrawling into his knuckles.

“I miss you, when you ain’t around,” Joel whispers, glossy eyes blinking at the ceiling. “I’m bored up here.”

You roll onto your side, run your fingers over the halo of sweat around the collar of his shirt. “Good think I ain’t far, then. ‘m only downstairs.”

He smiles. “Downstairs is too far.”

You lean over him and place a soft kiss on his rough cheek. “Just have to keep you at my hip then, don’t I?”

His head turns and his lips find yours. He cups the globe of your head, pulls you harder against his jaw, runs his tongue along your teeth. When you pull away, you shift the damp hair from his glistening forehead.

“You ruined my tie, by the way,” you tell him. “The hell am I supposed to say that is?”

Joel shrugs. “If Patrick Bateman were a woman, ‘n all that.”

#i wrote this in one sitting so please forgive if it's garbage #but halloween has SUCKED for me this year and it's my favorite holiday SO i had to mark it somehow #anyways #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel

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teethkick · 3 months

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so i went into a fugue state for 9 hours and came out on the other side with this: 🌟 a comprehensive primer for the 23-24 carolina hurricanes !!!! 🌟

(videos included at the end of the ppt)

for your viewing pleasure, videos from this szn:

INCREDIBLE svech & pyotr mini interview

storm surge after marty's 600th game

a closer look at the surge for marty :)

what a teuvo teravainen "celly" looks like

who DON'T you wanna sit next to

bunts on one for marty wearing a bucket

"we got a lot of old people on this team"

aho & teuvo try to make e/o laugh!!!!!

seth jarvis lie detector << REQUIRED VIEWING

pregame sewer ball

a look at rod in the locker room after a win

svech says "fuck you" to marty pregame (ft. drury barking)

practice asmr

marty talking about him & jordy fighting for seth

"sorry i can skate. sorry i'm fast as fuck boi"

kid masterpiece > teuvo actually laughing!!!!

svech scores his first back after ltir <3

marty's classic "mista svechnikov"

if you have any questions or just wanna talk canes, hmu 🌟🥰💯

#im not posting as much bc it's the beginning of the sem and im busy w prep #but the need for this actually consumed me #sorry about all the incoming tags!!!#canes lb #carolina hurricanes #canes #andrei svechnikov #seth jarvis #martin necas #sebastian aho #brady skjei #michael bunting #jack drury #nhl #hockey

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eternalmarvel · 5 months

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MK1 BI-HAN X READER ~ belong ~

an: hello everyone ❄️ decided to write some more small fluff / filler content ! i swear there's not enough bi-han love man LETS KEEP THOSE FANFICS AND HEADCANONS ROLLING 😈also i came up with this idea while i was h!gh as hell so please excuse me if the idea itself seems a bit weird this is why i need requests from people because i am TOO lazy to think of any good ideas on my own

if u guys want something different to spice things up like headcanons or smthn just ask :-) honestly i don't know how good i'd be at writing smut so it's not of priority right now but if people request it i can certainly try

anyways i hope u guys enjoy some fluffiness to kick off the winter szn !!

note; bi-han and reader are married in this story + a little bit of toxicness but it's not from bi-han

++ this isn't proofread so sorry for any mistakes

you had been married to bi-han for about a year now. your duties separate from the lin kuei often required you to travel far and abroad where you couldn't see your husband for weeks at the time. you didn't complain too much at first, but it got a bit frustrating after some time -- nothing that you couldn't overcome though. on the other hand, bi-han was IRRITABLE. it felt like the whole stronghold was walking on eggshells around its grandmaster, careful not to say or do the one thing that would set him off. he was sexually frustrated and grumpy on incomprehensible levels. everyone around the clan noticed how much angrier he had become. he'd bark orders at an unprecedented rate and mean mugged everyone who came across his path. even having the kitchen staff make all his favourite meals from when he was younger did nothing to wipe the horrible scowl painted on his face. when you were at the lin kuei stronghold, you and bi-han collectively sat down with the rest of the ninjas for dinners -- something that bi-han often avoided before meeting you. however, with a bit of nudging from you, he started to participate in group dinners more, even enjoying them (though he would never admit to this). there would still be a grimace on his face, but having you beside him made everything more palatable anyway. when asked why he seemed a little more irritable than usual, he stormed off and dismissed the question.

"i am the grandmaster, i will NOT answer to you."

smoke had realized that soon enough the only way to get him over his mood fluctuations and have some semblance of peace would be to get you back at the dojo. your phone's ringtone blared alarmingly, and you picked up the call in annoyance.

"tomas? what are you calling me about? can it wait? i'm really busy right now."

smoke lets out a sigh of relief now that he's gotten ahold of you.

"(name)! we really need you back at the lin kuei. bi-han's really ...cranky without you there," he whispers the last part, almost like he's scared bi-han will snatch him up out of nowhere. you pay no heed to tomas' concerning remarks, continuing to write down on the ledger on your desk.

"i'm sure my husband is just a little overwhelmed with his duties right now, this has nothing to do with me. give him some slack. he's fine."

smoke spoke with more urgency now.

"(name), he really is frustrated because of you. today, frost said '(name)’s hair' but he thought she meant '(name)’s here' and i swear i thought i saw his eyes gloss over like a dog seeing its owner for the first time in forever. ever since he found out frost was talking about your hair and not about you actually being here, he's been giving frost dirty looks. i think she's starting to get pissed off now that i think about it..."

you put down your pen and look up at the curtains of the hotel room in front of you, sighing. it was more serious than you previously expected. your face twisted in cruel humour, and you knew it'd be funny to use this opportunity to prank your husband and see what his reaction is.

"you know what tomas. i'm sure i can get out of these meetings and make it back to the stronghold by tomorrow dawn. i'll come back."

tomas sighs, finally unanxious.

"thank you, (name)! i knew you'd pu-"

"but i wanna play a prank on him. and you're gonna help me observe and set the environment."

tomas sighs once again, but out of exasperation.

"i don't wanna participate if it's too extreme. i've already caught the brunt of bi-han's verbal torment this week." you chuckle at his expense. "don't worry tomas, i'll make sure he doesn't hurl an ice pick at you. this prank is harmless, i promise. it's just for me to see his reaction." "fine. what are you planning on doing?" "sit tight and don't stress. i'll tell you when i'm on my way back."

you had informed tomas of the most perfect plan. you'd get back to your husband -- not long enough that he'd go back to his normal, serene state when he was with you but enough that he'd manage to calm his heartrate a bit. you were planning on inviting the daughter of a family friend of bi-han's family when he was younger. she had eyes for him all these years, still pointing to hints that she would pursue him despite the fact that he was now married to you. you would invite her over and have her bug bi-han (dare you say, flirt) and follow him all around the stronghold. you wanted to see if that so-called sexual frustration that tomas was referring to earlier really mattered in the case of every woman or if it was exclusive to only you. was it toxic? perhaps. could it be considered manipulative to use his father's family friend's daughter who had probably loved him for the last 10 years to get him closer to you? most likely. would you love every second of it nonetheless? absolutely.

you didn't inform bi-han of your arrival. as far as he knew, you were still going to be a few weeks out from coming back. you walked in through a secret back entrance bi-han had only told you about just in case the stronghold was ever attacked and he needed to get you out safely. you walked through the corridors and heard your husband's hoarse voice coming from the large drawing room across from you. you walked in quietly and sneakily, but obviously not subtly enough considering bi-han had his eyes immediately on you.

"(name)....," he almost whispered, his eyes widening.

you give everyone in the room a wave, including the senior ninjas, which they kindly return with a nod of their own.

"clear the room," bi-han asserts hastily. his tone isn't as harsh as it was before. the ninjas comply almost immediately when they've noticed his demeanor soften up a bit, realizing that you've worked your magic. as soon as the last ninja is out the door, bi-han is by your side in a half of an instant, taking your face into his broad hands.

"hey," you say softly. you were tired from your trip, but being in his presence and ironically his warmth doubled the exhaustion and fatigue your body had attempted to so valiantly fight off.

"you didn't inform me of your early arrival."

you smile into his palm, your head tilting a bit as you rest your own palm on his hand.

"wanted to surprise you, my love."

he looks at you intensely for a few seconds before snapping back to reality.

"i will excuse myself from my duties today. perhaps i can get kuai liang to take over for me."

"why, bi-han? we can catch up late. i don't want you neglecting your duties because of me."

a small scoff escapes his lips.

"it's been much of the other way around. we have not seen each other in weeks. the lin kuei can do without its grandmaster for a few hours."

you look at him mischievously for a brief second before you hear the faint sounds of footsteps outside the drawing room. your plan was coming to fruition before your eyes. rina had come along just on time.

"actually, bi-han, i think we might have a change of plans. rina is coming over today!"

bi-han shifted his gaze from you to rina, who was standing out in the hallway. it was safe to say he was unamused.

"rina. i wasn't aware you were going to be here. it seems as though i've been misinformed on MANY fronts," he says, side-eyeing you. you pay him no mind, bringing rina closer.

"i have to deal with a bit more business-"

bi-han looked at you in disbelief. who the hell did you think you were, the president? a grandmaster yourself?

"--BUT i promise it won't take too long. rina wanted to catch up with you too, so i thought why not kill two birds with one stone?," you say, trying to resist the impending smirk on your face. bi-han was clearly displeased but you gave his arm a squeeze and whispered, "just a few hours," and he knew he'd have your company again in no time. he sighed quietly, before slightly nodding again.

"if i must."

you disappeared to find smoke and left bi-han with rina to do god knows what. you found tomas sparring with some of the newer initiates out in the courtyard and ran up to him, dragging him away from kombat.

"h-hey!," smoke exclaimed.

"c'mon! i finally got bi-han to agree to meeting with rina. now we gotta go hide around the place and see how he reacts with her around."

"this is ... not nice.." smoke remarks uneasily.

you roll your eyes. yeah it isn't nice, but it's funny and it's not like you actually meant any harm by this prank. you and tomas make your way to the blindspots around the lin kuei and spot bi-han walking as rina edges closer to him. you guys get in close enough to try and make sense of their conversation.

bi-han walks into his room and changes into a new hanfu, the same shade of dark blue he often wears. the collar part of the attire is folded, and rina brings her hand closer to fix it but just as she’s about to mend it, bi-han grabs her hand.

“what do you think you’re doing,” he lowly seethes, his eyebrows furrowing in anger.

rina shakes him off, annoyed. “i was just trying to help you, calm down!”

“unless i ask for your assistance, it is not required.” he says stoically before making his way down the corridor again. you and tomas both exchange a strange look. you didn’t want rina dead by the end of this prank. silence is shared between bi-han and rina for the next minute before the latter pipes up again.

"you haven't seen your wife in a while, huh?" rina asks coyly. bi-han turns to look at her for a second before turning back around and keeping that stern look on his face.

"no. her business keeps her away from m-the stronghold quite often,” bi-han remarks quietly.

“you know most wives stick with their husbands and don’t just leave them on their own for weeks on end. perhaps there may be something that you aren’t aware of…,” rina whispers before her statement trails off.

bi-han stops in his tracks and turns around yo face her.

“do not think to insinuate such horrible things about my wife again so shamelessly. you forget your place when you spew these things -- do not forget, SHE invited you here as a token of her hospitality. i did not."

rina chuckles. at first glance, it would seem that she does this sarcastically at first, but it seems like those words really stung rina.

"i'm leaving."

"you know your way out."

tomas sucks a deep breath in while you look down in defeat.

"ooh, boy. alright, i think you were right." "you needed a prank to prove that?!"

you wave tomas away.

"i will make sure there are no further casualties," you say to tomas, as you give him a small hit on his arm and make your way to your marital bedroom. on your way there, you see rina coming your way. you have to pretend like you didn't just witness your husband eat up this poor woman. you smile and put your hands together, bowing to her.

"hey rina! how's it going? i wa-" she puts her palm towards your face and continues walking away.

"i don't wanna hear from you." you watch her as she leaves, staring off into the distance momentarily and sighing. thank god she was an asshole or else it'd be really hard not to sympathize with her.

you walk into your bedroom and see bi-han on the bed. it seems he's getting ready for a bath -- he has a robe-like hanfu loosely draped around his body with his chest visible and and legs exposed. his hair is down and he is reaching for his back like it's aching.

"done with all my duties." you say innocently, your arms behind your back.

bi-han only looks at you momentarily and not even fully before going back to closing his eyes and mending his backache. you walk up to him carefully before sitting down beside him, using your hand to gently knead his back. he lets out a small groan of relief at your gesture.

"you've probably missed my massages all week," you say coyly.

"they were not the thing i missed."

you feel a blush creeping up on your cheek. being away from you for so long made him starved, like a dog meekly asking his owner for more rations. you felt horrible for being away for so long.

"i won't leave again for a while. i promise. we have lost-time to make up for," you say quietly. you prod at his hand and he envelops your hand in his, grazing the outside with his thumb.

"i'd rather not have lies spoken to me for the sake of momentary comfort."

you get up and gently move his right leg further to the right so you can sit on his thigh.

"now you know i can give you more than momentary comfort," you say smirking (but still VERY nervous).

in the blink of an eye, bi-han flips your body over and pins you to the bed, planting a long and voracious kiss at your lips. you bite at his lower lip and he responds by wrestling your tongue with his own. after what seems like an eternity of your mouths fighting for dominance with each other, you break the kiss as a string of saliva follows your mouths.

"you know, i saw everything that unfolded with rina. i think it really is safe to say we belong to one another."

bi-han looks at you with a hint of amusement. "i should have known you didn't have pure intentions with inviting her over." he slips his hand down your frame, erecting shivers from you. he plants small kisses trailing down your midsize.

"perhaps the rest of the lin kuei should know the grandmaster's wife isn't really as much of an angel as she lets everyone think she is."

#bi han #bi han x reader #bi han x y/n #mk sub zero #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 bi han #mk1 x reader #sub zero #sub zero x reader #bi han x you #bihan x reader #bihan x y/n

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zgvlt · 2 years

Text

launch our love jade leech x reader

summary: You and Jade send out your wedding invitations. (Almost) nobody knew you two were dating in the first place

author's note: written for a discord server event! bc june is wedding szn. and also because i realized i needed more silly (and domestic) jade in my life. this is sillier than most of my writings bc i wrote it to destress from my finals hehe

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, established relationship, marriage, weddings, some cursing, 6.7k+ words, not beta read

you can also read this on AO3

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM (CAUSED BY YOU AND JADE)

“Jade, you’re smiling. Is something funny?”

“Aren’t I always smiling, my dear?”

“Not always, not with your teeth.” So you said, but weren’t you the one baring your teeth at him right now? “You’re amused by something. Care to share?”

Maybe Jade didn’t seem like the type, but he loved jokes—stupid jokes, and even funny things that weren’t actually jokes. He just liked being able to laugh at something, someone, and oh, he was going to have the biggest laugh of his twenty something years of life—both on land and in sea.

In fact, he might have been laughing right now just at the very thought of the situation.

“Perhaps I’m just happy?” he mused, knowing for certain that you didn’t buy it. You knew him too well, for too long—sometimes he still found himself thinking just how odd it was for the two of you to have gotten so close, but it certainly made things more interesting, didn’t it? It would be difficult to imagine how he’d be living his life now if you weren’t by his side. “You bring me happiness. Is that so unbelievable?”

“No, but isn’t it weird that years ago I would have thought your words were some ploy to tease me, or make fun of my feelings for you?” you said, a laugh escaping your lips. “I can’t believe I fell for you first. So cringe of me, honestly.”

“Yes, but I had been the one to ask you out first,” he reminded you, clicking his tongue in the process, “really, you made your feelings so obvious but you simply wouldn’t do anything. Did you ever feel bad for me, poor Jade Leech who knew nothing about human romance customs, having to do all the hard work in courting you?”

“Yes, and in my pity I stayed with you for eight years,” you deadpanned, clearly enjoying the joke as much as he was. That was something about you he’d always loved—you always got a chuckle out of him, not merely from your words, but even your mannerisms and willingness to just go along with whatever he was saying, inserting your own quips as well. “And will continue to for even more years than that.”

“My love is so gracious,” he praised, clearly teasing but voice laced with unmistakable affection, “if this is what it feels to be pitied by you, then I’ll simply have to have your pity all to myself, hmm?”

“You…”

Jade really couldn’t help himself then, laughing as you were torn between letting him know he was being infuriating, or saying something terribly sappy yourself.

“I still don’t believe you, by the way,” you said, returning back to the original topic of conversation, “but I think I know why you’re so excited now. It has to do with the invites we sent out earlier this morning, doesn’t it?”

“Heheh. I might be losing my touch if it’s that obvious,” he replied, both of you knowing it had more to do with you than him.

The invites. They were pretty things—pearl white envelopes with intricate calligraphy at the very center, something formal to fit both Jade’s disposition and the event, but the design of the letter inside clearly had your touch. He actually still had a few unsent ones himself, ones he would deliver himself once he returned to the Coral Sea.

Save the best for last, of course.

“You think any of them would have gotten it by now?” He responded to your question with a smile that showed his teeth, he was certain of it this time. Oh, he was more than sure at least one person would have gotten it, received by the ones that lived closer, already opened by the ones a little less busier, and he was elated in anticipation of their responses. “Judging by the look on your face, that’s a yes. Should I mute my phone?”

“Absolutely not,” he replied immediately, and then added for good measure, “additionally, could you make sure every call is on speaker phone?”

As though simply waiting for his cue, your phone began to ring, and Jade had no doubts someone had already read the invite and was more than ready to make a complaint, or ask for an explanation, or both.

“Is it–” he looked over your shoulder to read the caller ID– “ah, I was wondering which one of the two. Go on and answer. I’ll just be here, listening attentively.”

“Fine, fine, but get ready. Once this call ends we’re clearly going to get them non-stop, either from your phone or mine.” You took a deep breath, as if to prepare yourself for your impending doom, before pressing the answer button.

THE CALL WHERE HIS SIGNIFICANT OTHER GETS CURSED AT (AND HE LETS IT HAPPEN)

“You fucking fuck,” Ace said, slowly and almost threateningly, and Jade almost let out a huff of laughter at that alone. Only almost, for he had wanted to stay silent for a little longer just to hear what either one of you would talk about. “I raised and looked after you for over three years–”

“Now who’s doing the raising in the group, you say? If not me, it’s obviously–”

“Shut up! I need to tell you how disappointedI am!”

Jade threw you a look and you only shrugged. Ace always seemed like the annoying older brother type of friend, but was he actually some secret mother hen type? He always pictured that role for… essentially every other close friend you had, but he supposed distance could bring the fretting out of anyone.

“As I was saying, you know how much I L-word you, you little shit, but what is this behavior? Is this how you repay me?” On second thought, this was annoying older brother behavior. “How could you do this to your best friend—no, absolutely no oh, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, Sebek, is my blah blah now! Betrayal! One second I have Jade’s contact name renamed to your TOTGA, next second you’re getting married to him?”

At Ace’s exclamation Jade allowed himself to unstifle his laughter, slapping his thigh with the free hand, the one not attached to the arm that was draped around your own laughter-induced quivering shoulders.

“TOTGA?”

“The One That Got Away. Coined by Cater, but Ace found it too funny so it stuck as an inside joke about… well, obviously about you,” you explained, near groaning at the reminder, “basically, Ace thinks you were incapable of returning my feelings.”

“Hey, I never said that! I just said you were too much of a wuss to actually do anything. You cried when he became a fourth year, remember? Ace… I want to see Jade, huhu. I’m so sadddd, wah wah wah, wah, wah.”

“What a subpar impersonation. I wish I was there to witness it myself.” It was a little hard to shake off the image in his head once Ace got it in there—he hated seeing you upset of course, but you crying because you missed him? That would have certainly been a cute sight. He wondered if Ace or one of your other friends had managed to have that, or any other similar event, recorded on video.

He’s not quite Azul but he’s made his fair share of deals, too.

“And for your information, Ace, you might like to know that it was I who made the first move, so you would be right about your assumptions.”

“Thank you for your service. My dear friend would have stayed single, still living in the college, doing nothing but taking care of Grim until the ripe old age of a hundred and one otherwise,” Ace might have sounded like he had significantly calmed down, but you seemed to know better.

Ace was never particular about the respect for seniority, and while some parts of him had already matured, according to you that is, some parts were bound to stay the same.

“But also, I just know you’re part of the reason why I never found out the two of you got in a relationship in the first place! So what was the reason? A prank?”

“Of course not. What kind of man would have a joke run for as long as eight years?” Jade said, pretending he wasn’t that type of man. Honestly speaking, he really never intended it to be secret or anything. Azul and Floyd knew because it was impossible to hide things from either one—the latter being his brother, the other being your supplier of potions in your earlier years of visiting him and his family.

It just so happened that with a strange set of circumstances it would appear you never got the chance to tell anyone, he was too private a person to share the more intimate details of his life, and the two of you decided to just stick with it for as long as either one of you didn’t get caught.

“Okay, fine, I know why Jade wouldn’t say anything… but you, don’t think I have forgotten about you. Actually, shit, I’m tired of shouting. Give me a sec.”

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Giving the phone to our favorite Deucey-Weucey. Nice going with the invites by the way—flying envelope followed me around in the middle of the street until I opened it. I thought my unpaid taxes were haunting me!”

Ah, yes, the wonderful flying tracker envelopes. Jade had paid good money for those—for convenience, else it would have been too difficult sending formal, non-digital invites to everyone all across the land, but he would not deny that the idea of an envelope hunting and chasing down your mutual friends was fun to imagine.

“You were shouting that loud in public? Also… are you joking? Ace, pay your taxes?”

“Pass. Oh, and don’t tell Deuce I said that, by the way. He’s freaking out more than me—he’s been spamming me with texts because I got to call you first—and we don’t need the policeman to freak out even more because of my inability to be a law-abiding citizen. He just finished his shift, too! … Yo, Deuce! Guess who I’m on the phone with—Oi! At least ask before–”

“First of all, congratulations,” a different voice came out of the phone speaker this time, a little gentler and kinder but clearly holding back. Ah, Jade thought to himself, here was the other one he was waiting on for your end. “Bet you Ace didn’t even say that, right?”

“He didn’t,” the two of you replied at the same time, much to the chagrin of the voice whining at an audible distance.

“Oh, hello,” Deuce greeted, oddly politely, “you don’t mind if I shout at your spouse-to-be, right? I’ve been holding back from doing so for about twenty or so minutes now.”

Well, Jade always liked politeness. Why, it reminded him of himself, after all.

“Fufu… go for it,” he said, but honestly you could have been the one to agree to it yourself with the way you readied yourself by pushing the phone slightly further away than when you were talking to Ace. Interesting reaction.

“You can cover your ears, I just need to get this out of my system… WHAT THE HELL? THIS IS WORSE THAN ANY OF ACE’S PRANKS!” Jade had to wonder if that was more compliment or insult. Deuce was less harsh than Ace with his wording, but the tone of voice was more intimidating, a little delinquent-like. You seemed used to it, though, maybe even a little fond and reminiscent.

“We kept comforting you because we… okay fine, Ace, shut up, because I thought you kept getting rejected, but not only have you been together all this time, the two of you are getting married? Also meaning, time had passed since you proposed… or Jade proposed to you?”

“Actually,” Ace interjected, loud enough to be picked up by the microphone, “since when did the two of you get together? This is very important by the way, please answer correctly.”

“Answering correctly… ah, I see what’s going on here,” Jade replied with an amused laugh, “I hope you got the right answer, then. The last week of my third year, so before the summer of yours.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before the two of them began making a ruckus once more.

“Fucking Ortho?! Out of all of us, Ortho gets it right?” Ace bemoaned, “The way we dissed him too for guessing incorrectly. Of course he knew without actually knowing. I mean thank the Seven it wasn’t Sebek or Jack or I would never let myself live it down, and if it was Epel he would never let us live it down, but wow.”

“They made me bet as well, by the way,” you told Jade, “betting on my own love life… or lack of, at the time.”

“And you got it wrong?” he snickered, always happy for something new to tease you about. “Please do tell, when did you think we would get together?”

“Uh… I don’t remember?”

“Never. You said the two of you were never, ever, ever, getting together,” Deuce reminded you, pretending to simply be helpful even though it was obvious he was attempting to get back at you one way or another. Well, it was helpful to Jade, at least. He’s not surprised by the answer, it would have been rather typical considering your mindset back then, but your reaction right now was very adorable.

He had no plans of teasing you about it at this very moment, but he stored that information for another time.

“Wait, I just realized something. You were also crying to us that time, so then… you were crying because–”

“Oh,” you sounded a little bashful, “it was because I thought we wouldn’t be together because… you know, Jade would be out there in some mountain, probably without phone reception, and I would be stuck in NRC, so…”

“...so you didn’t think you two were actually in a relationship,” your statement was finished for you by Deuce, who sounded, and probably looked, exasperated, “and then you two actually were, but you were either still sad about the distance or too embarrassed to tell us you were mistaken that you never told us.”

“Yeah, something like that, and also I kept getting teased about it so as payback I kept holding off telling all of you, until…”

“Until you literally forgot to ever tell us,” Ace groaned, “shit, that’s one long grudge.”

Well, Jade might have had some part to do with you not talking about it after your third year. He was the one who convinced you it’d be fun to let them figure it out for themselves. If they weren’t able to tell while they still got to see you every day, how much harder would it be for them once you all went your separate ways all over Twisted Wonderland?

“Okay, maybe deserved on our end, but I don’t want to take responsibility so fuck you… oh, and congratulations to both of you lovebirds… er, fish?”

THE CALL WHERE HE MESSES WITH SOMEONE (AS USUAL)

You were still in the middle of your call with Ace and Deuce, voice call turned video call as the three of you planned a pre-wedding meet-up with the rest of your friend circle for the purpose of deciding who your best man would be (thankfully not a problem he has to deal with, considering Floyd was the only real choice), when he received a call on his phone.

“Who is it?” you asked, breaking away from the conversation for a few seconds.

“Trey,” he replied, quite normally if he would say so himself, although you must have known better based on the way you were looking at him.

“Don’t stress him out too much, Jade.” He agreed, although he certainly didn’t promise anything. If he was being honest, one of the calls he was anticipating getting was from the bakers’ son. Perhaps because it was interesting seeing the seemingly ordinary people break out of their restraints and say something funny.

“Say hi to Trey for me! Or tell him to call me… not any time for the rest of the day or night, if I’m being honest.”

With that he slinked away from the bedroom to the living room, letting himself relax atop the sofa as he answered the call.

“You know, Jade, most people send in their order forms online these days. Or in person, if they want a taste test first.”

“Oh, do you not want to comment on the invite first? The RSVP is included in the envelope, but you could let me know right now. How many guests do you intend on bringing? You could always bring your siblings—given my being a twin, I’ve always been fond–”

“Jade,” Trey interrupted, already sounding exasperated, “am I really a guest when you’re asking me to make your wedding cake?”

“And the wedding favor pastries as well, if you don’t mind,” Jade supplied, smiling to himself. Good, Trey was reacting exactly how he wanted him to. Sure, he did not doubt the man probably had some degree of surprise regarding his relationship status, but that seemed to be a second thought in the dread of dealing with what would presumably be at least a medium sized order.

“We would appreciate your suggestions as well. Which do you think would be better: cupcakes, quite overused but popular for a reason; small cakes, so we don’t have to go through the hassle of giving away slices of the wedding cake; or something a little less fancy, like cookies or brownies?

“Also, what do you think about the cake itself? How many tiers are the norm for wedding cakes? Why is it that most people go for height when you can go for width and length? What do you think about including mushrooms–”

“Jade, absolutely not. We can add the fake sugary ones if you want, but no real mushrooms,” Trey sounded somewhere in between flabbergasted and disgusted at the suggestion. Now, wasn’t it obvious he was just joking? He wasn’t really going to insist on adding mushrooms in the cake… unless it was actually an unfounded good combination?

“Also, for the love of the Queen, please just go to the bakery for a taste test… ugh, I can’t believe you’re getting married before me. What in Wonderland…”

“Really makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” And because Jade was secure with his sense of humor, he laughed at his own joke. What Jade would give to be able to see the look on his face right now, curious about what sort of face he must have pulled in that dead silence of five seconds. “Oh, and I just thought of something… what do you think about mushroom shaped biscuits as wedding favors?”

THE CALL WHERE YOU GET A PART-TIME WEDDING PLANNER (BUT WHO DOESN’T LOVE FREEBIES?)

You had received a few more calls last night, mostly quick congratulations paired with a “but… have you always been together with Jade? Somehow, I always thought…”

Those people never pried too much, likely to save themselves from the potential embarrassment of having forgotten such an important detail about a friend, maybe preferring to ask someone else about the details. None of them were too interesting so Jade didn’t mind much.

The real fun continued the very next day. The intended guests seemed to have enough decency to not call past midnight, although he did spot a few 3 a.m. text messages sent to some group chat you happened to be in, so the night was relatively peaceful. Someone, however, seemed to be a particularly early riser, dragging the both of you with him with one notification.

Not a call, just a notification that somehow jolted you awake, your sudden movement waking him as well.

“What–”

“I thought it was for work… I panicked.” Despite the fact that it was very much a weekend, it seemed that it was hard to get rid of habits. “Who else just sends sudden calendar invites to unplanned video calls aside from… oh, this makes sense, actually.”

You suddenly got up from bed and Jade, admittedly still a little sleepily, watched as you tried to fix yourself up—slowly walking to the bathroom as you washed your face, even brushing your teeth. That told Jade he would not be expecting you to head back to sleep despite the fact that the sun had likely risen at most about half an hour ago. If it weren’t for the fact that you were just straightening out your rumpled sleepwear, he would have thought you had planned on going out.

“Already so energetic in the morning,” Jade commented. For a busy man like him, he quite liked getting to sleep in whenever he could with his beloved at his side, but he was just as content watching you in the early hours of the day. Seeing you go about your morning, yes, but more so waking up in the same room as you, something that would become more common once the two of you got married.

He had always missed mornings with you whenever he was under the sea instead of by your side.

“Jade, do I look presentable?” you suddenly asked, plopping back down on the bed, lowering your head to lock eyes with him. He’s not quite sure what you’re expecting out of him considering the biased lens he views you in.

“You know my heart is aflutter whenever I see you,” he answered, not dishonest in the slightest but always worded in a way he knew you would like, “my darling is as beautiful as usual, brilliant and timeless like the most precious pearl.”

“And that’s not what I was asking. Presentable is different from beautiful.” Still, you looked appreciative of his praise, allowing yourself to accept it instead of turning it down, and really, that’s the reception Jade likes the most from you. “Oh well. Vil will probably understand anyway.”

Oh? He knew you and Vil kept in touch even after his graduation, but among his list of people who he thought would contact you next, he had not considered someone as busy as Vil Schoenheit to be next. Not that he had any plans of going back to sleep when you were already awake, but now he was more enthused to listen in—intrigued in all matters that had to do with you, and he supposed because it had to do with him, as well.

He doesn’t even have to tell you—you put it on speaker immediately.

“You know, most people these days try to soft launch their relationships on MagiCam, but you did not even do a normal hard launch, no, you went all the way with a wedding announcement. Do you think yourself a celebrity with this kind of secrecy?”

“Ahaha, well–”

“Oh, and before I forget, I’ll be sending you my work schedule. We can’t have you looking like a potato on your wedding day, can we? Do you already have something to wear? If not, I can introduce you to some designers, no need to worry I still remember what styles you like best, and then we can choose which outfit you’ll want to wear best during the ceremony itself, and then the reception—

And we can’t forget about make-up! You–ah, Jade, hello, I just noticed the top of your head peeking near out of frame. I can send you both some palettes that would work best with your skin, the Seven knows I have too much unused make-up from brand deals, and–”

“Vil,” you interrupted suddenly, “not that I don’t appreciate the help, because I do, I mean I haven’t even thought of getting into more comfortable clothes for the reception? But why are you doing so much? Aren’t you busy?”

“I would have to agree. It’s as if you have chosen to take up the task of being our wedding planner.”

“Because it’s bad manners to outdress the newlyweds,” Vil explained, as if it was the simplest thing in the world to understand, “so just this once, the both of you have to look better than me. Understood?”

THE CALL WHERE YOU AND A CROW ARGUE ABOUT WHO WALKS DOWN THE AISLE AS YOUR GUARDIAN (SPOILER: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN TREIN)

Jade took over the kitchen most days, for as long as he had the time for it. Not only was he confident in his skills but he enjoyed the act of cooking just as much as getting to show off his skills for you.

And of course, because there was the thrill of letting slip that there was some special secret ingredient that always left you slightly perturbed or excited. Not that there was any most of the time, he just wanted to see if you would keep buying it, and he would eat up the slightest hesitation before you eventually gave in because A) you trusted him and knew deep down he was either playing with you or added something he knew you liked, or B) you just wanted to eat your meal already.

One of those was more romantic than the other.

Regardless, he was cooking for you because you seemed like you needed the energy. While the both of you agreed on wanting to get married soon—considering the two of you lived together and were as domestic as couples could get to the point that it was as if he was already a married man anyway—you seemed to wonder if there was enough time to plan everything that still needed to be planned.

“Of course there will be,” he reassured you, momentarily abandoning the meals he had not finished plating to step closer to you, “we still have four months to go, and I’m here to help you, remember?”

“I know, and I love you even more for it.” You don’t waste a single second after he places his hand atop yours, turning your palm over to interlock fingers properly. That’s another thing Jade adores about you—how easily you can confess and show your feelings for him. “A part of me was just hoping wedding planning would be a little easier than it actually is.”

“I’m sure it’s made easier with magic involved,” Jade said with a laugh, “although ceremonies are much simpler under the sea.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that kind of preparation.” You seemed to be experiencing some degree of unease, likely at the thought of something. “More so… people.”

Jade smiled. Close-lipped.

“If there’s anyone being a bother, or being troublesome–”

“Jade, no,” you interrupted quickly, as if suddenly fearing for the lives of several people. “Not like that. I received an email from Professor Crewel a while ago. Apparently our wedding has become a hot topic in the staff room.”

He blinked, pretending to be surprised.

“Oh my, now why would that be?”

You need not answer that question, not when it was so obvious. You had wormed your way into their hearts in the span of four years, perhaps even more considering how often you visited for the sake of Grim, and now they were attached to ex-Ramshackle Prefect, current pseudo-NRC staff.

(Neither of you were really sure if beast caretaker was a real position considering Crowley had yet to house any beasts beyond Grim, but you liked the allowance and the ability to come and get your cat-not-cat whenever you wanted.)

“I don’t know,” you sighed, legitimately looking a little confused, “but Professor Crewel… he offered to help with the clothes, but I said Vil was already doing that, so instead he said he’d send over some gifts. I mean I expect that on the ceremony day itself, but not months before?”

“May I ask… did you happen to have a favorite professor?” Because it was easy to tell why one of them was buttering you up so suddenly, although he was a tad unsure if it would be for naught. Perhaps you already had someone in mind.

Before you could answer, a song he could not recall having heard before rang out in the room. It was, for a lack of a better term, the type of tune that would be catchy at first until it inevitably became the most annoying sound in existence. Earworm might have been the word for it.

“Ah, Crowley is calling. I forgot that was the ringtone I set for him,” you said, as if that was enough to explain everything.

It was.

“Headmaster–”

“My child, who has grown up so fast to the point of finally getting married.” You exchanged looks with Jade, and while he was evidently more amused than you, he understood the incoming headache. Crowley himself was the incoming headache. “I would just like to remind you that this most generous, gracious, giving headmaster of yours is also your guardian by law, yes?”

As much of a secretive man the headmaster could be, now was certainly not one of those times, and the realization of what your old professors were up to had dawned on you.

“Professor Crewel’s quite generous as well,” you said, “you know, he offered to buy me a few things for the wedding”. It was as if you were pretending to be deep in thought, when in reality you were baiting the crow into either telling you what he wanted outright, or at least offering you something a stingy man like him normally wouldn’t.

Then again, Jade was just a little concerned that even if Crowley did get you something, it would come from NRC’s budget. None of his business, but there was the probability of you feeling guilty over that.

“What, so are you choosing Divus then?”

“Who said I would be choosing Professor Crewel?”

Truthfully Jade did think that, among the whole staff, Headmaster Crowley or Professor Crewel would have been the best choices to take the position of your guardian down the aisle, but perhaps that was merely his impression of who would most want to be in that position as opposed to who you would want.

“See, I was just thinking of having Grim stroll down the aisle considering he’s the closest I have to family, but Jade and I have been talking about whether he should be a flower boy or the ring bearer.”

Yes, that much was true, and while a basket would have been heavy he was partial to flower boy simply because it would be funny to watch him throw petals around the beach, accidentally having his paws sink in the sand, but he could not say that or else be accused of bullying your beloved beast by you.

“So since it can’t be Grim… since he looks after Grim when I can’t, I thought Professor Trein–”

“Absolutely not!” You had ruffled the feathers of the headmaster with one utterance of a name, as though you and the senior professor had personally offended him. With how dramatic he used to be, and seemingly still is, it was very likely he felt that way, Jade thought. “Trein has already walked down the aisle for SO many weddings! This is incredibly unfair for the childless like me.”

“Isn’t Professor Crewel in the exact same situation?”

“No, he has his puppies. That makes him a father. Meanwhile there’s me. I am alone and childless and you are the closest thing I have to a child, will you deprive me of the opportunity to flaunt–ahem, to show my support for the marriage of two very wonderful NRC alumni?”

“Wow,” Jade said, almost in disbelief at such a poor excuse, “that sounded very convincing and not at all falsified. I might ask you to replace my father at this point.”

THE ONE WHERE SOMEONE STRESSES ABOUT HIS WEDDING MORE THAN HIS FAMILY (AND HIM)

Jade had expected that his brother would momentarily make a fuss, that his twin would be filled to the brim with excitement while complaining about how the wedding date was too far and how he should have it sooner.

He also anticipated his parents' congratulations, their happiness in spite of wanting a ceremony under the sea as well, their wishes that you had visited with him today so that they could spoil you with something extravagant for the occasion.

But Azul? Sure, he had expected some degree of fretting, but the octomer was stressing about the wedding as if he was the one getting married. Dear Sea Witch, if this was how Azul was going to act at being his wedding’s caterer, just how much worse would he fuss if he ever got married?

“You should have told me sooner, Jade!” Azul exclaimed, already grabbing a scroll with one tentacle to jot down estimates—Jade was unsure of the specifics but it figured it must have been the usual: assumed guest count (Azul had not even bothered to ask, somehow he just put a number eerily close to the own estimate you and Jade had in your heads), times and dates, which foods and drinks he’ll likely end up having prepared, even from where best to source ingredients around June, the month of the wedding.

“Ah, Trey’s handling the wedding cake and favors, but not the desserts themselves, so feel free to cancel those two out,” the moray added, stifling a laugh at how cross Azul suddenly looked with him.

“I don’t know if I’m more upset at you going to Trey for that when I’m perfectly capable, or for not telling me before I finished the estimate costing. Do you know how difficult it is to cater for big events?”

“With the amount of experience I’ve had assisting you? Of course I know,” Jade pointed out dryly, “and I know just as well that you are incredibly capable. This is simply a small feat for you, Azul.”

“Most caterers in the industry ask for six to twelve months in leeway preparation time when it comes to reservations.” It was phrased to be informative, but really it sounded like he was being chided. “If you had not come to me, I am certain everyone else would have rejected you. Aren’t you fortunate to have me as a… to have connections to someone as capable as me?”

A part of him still hesitated to call Azul a friend. Perhaps it was a case of old habits dying hard, or just for the sake of either one of their prides, but he would never call Azul a friend to his face. Azul was just Azul, who he and his brother stuck around with since childhood because he was interesting, but–

“And congratulations, Jade. I’m happy for you. Who would have thought you would ever marry,” Azul said, smirking and yet refusing to lock eyes with him. Jade thought he might have been a little teary-eyed, but it was harder to tell underwater. Even if he was sure, he had no plans of making fun of Azul for it, just this once.

Just this once, he might admit to himself that Azul was a friend.

THE ONE WHERE HE SURPRISES EVERYONE ONE LAST TIME (BUT IS THERE EVER REALLY A LAST TIME?)

Jade has long prepared for his speech, has it memorized down to the very last word. Even if he hadn’t, it would be relatively easy to say everything on the spot—discuss how he fell for you, the story of how you two got together, the love he did and does and forever will have for you, and of course, how the two of you managed to keep everything a secret until recently. Still, he prepared for it, mostly because he had one last surprise saved for the very end.

You’re a little teary-eyed near the end, what people thought was the end, of his speech; he thinks he can spot his father crying as well, and he wonders if that’ll stop or worsen by the time he has to give out his speech. Azul’s there, nodding his head in approval and clapping as if he had just finished giving a business presentation instead, while Floyd is cheering and hollering and amazingly, his tie has yet to be fully discarded.

On your end of guests, he can spot a few of your friends be mildly surprised from witnessing how heartwarming he could be when he felt like showing it; Malleus Draconia simply radiating joy from being present, still really odd to know his significant other was friends with a future King; Leona, placed at the table farthest from Malleus’, not looking particularly enthused, almost as if he hadn’t brought an expensive gift in hopes of one-upping his fellow prince (although he was certain Kalim had one-upped them both on accident).

The professors were also there, and he had overheard them (rather, Crowley and Crewel, who you eventually decided both got to represent you down the aisle) arguing amongst themselves earlier about who got to dance with you first.

The answer was him, your groom, quite clearly, and perhaps Floyd will want to steal either him or you away for a little bit.

When the clapping ceases he lets out a most bright grin, then again when was he not genuinely smiling and laughing today, before speaking into the microphone once more.

“Once more, I thank all of you for attending this special day. You have all helped make this a memory-filled day… but before I hand the microphone over to my father, I have an announcement to make.” He turned to look at you, still seated beside him and beaming in approval, even throwing a little thumbs up from beneath the table.

He loved you even more for not only letting him, but encouraging him to have one last hurrah.

“I have heard a lot of complaints regarding how sudden we announced our wedding, or perhaps more appropriate to say our relationship status.” He had received a few chuckles out of that one, but who was Jade if not someone who wanted the last laugh? “We, my beloved and I, understand your complaints, and so we took your feedback, went over it carefully, and decided to do better next time.

“That is to say, you are all invited to our second wedding in the Coral Sea. Same date next year, no dress or tail code this time, fufu…”

He loved it—the commotion it caused, the way his father was weeping a little harder, he did wish for the two of them to have the Coral Sea ceremony; the way Azul was calculating the costs of everything again, now with the included costs of actually having the guests be able to breathe; party animals like his brother, Kalim, and Cater easily anticipating another celebration; Ace, Deuce, and Jack having war flashbacks to what happened the first time they visited the place; and most importantly, your reaction.

You already knew what was coming, but he always loved watching the different expressions bleed into your face, and there was just something about how happy you were at the reminder that you’d get to celebrate your union again, but this time in his culture.

With the microphone safely out of his hands and plopped in front of his father, his lips near your ear. The world may already know, but even then he whispers the words themselves as though they were still a secret—

“I love you.”

“You only love me because chaos always follows me around,” you said, clearly joking. Because he’s him, he returns the favor.

“Oh yes, because I stayed in this relationship for over eight years for a joke. I pity you, my dear.”

“Mhmm, if this is what it feels to be pitied by you, I can’t wait to experience it for the rest of our lives.” He’s unsure of who laughed first, but what does it matter, really?

A few of your fingers slipped underneath his gloved hand, idly writing something against his skin that warmed his heart—your new initials.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, and he smiled because he knew. Beneath the politeness and the jokes, the truth was not something that he had to wrangle out of you, but something easily seen and easily told.

“So… how are we pranking them next?”

masterlist

#twst x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #twst #twisted wonderland #nathya twst writing

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ef-1 · 1 year

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#i am joking except i am not and all of these options are plausible to me #f1 #2023 season >:)#THE WORD LIMIY IS TOO SHORT

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 1 year

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SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where it's Halloween. (Happy Halloween in January. Don't @ me, it's spooky szn all year round here, bitches.)

Or the twenty first installment of the SKZ!pack prequel series.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, OT8, Skz!pack, Skz!abo, poly!skz, omegaverse, pack!prequel, skz!pack prequel, prequel series, skz drabble, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, skz x you, skz x reader, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, y/n

Genre: Fluff, Light Smut

Warnings: Primal play is back. But make it *spooky.*

A/N: Bear with me, this one got long. But hopefully you enjoy it. This is my thanks for sticking with me through all the angst. 😘

Title: Dangerous Games

“Do you like it? When he fucks you?”

You’re trembling, your entire body aching from being so cold, and you shake your head slightly, looking away from the darkness of his gaze.

“I-I don’t want to play anymore.”

Your voice comes out weak, shaky, and your teeth are chattering.

It’s still raining, and a flash of lightning lights up the sky, illuminating the eerie makeup, starting to drip, that covers the majority of his face.

He takes your chin roughly between his fingers and turns you back to face him.

Thunder crashes, only moments after the lightning.

You jump, but you don’t know whether it’s from the storm or because he’s suddenly slamming his hand into the trunk of the tree above your head, leaning into your space.

There’s a slightly smug smirk to his words when he speaks again, but it does nothing to soften the dangerous undertones beneath.

“Then answer my question. And I’ll let you go.”

You know he won’t. He never does.

Swallowing, you rub your hands up and down your arms, trying to warm yourself, feeling your sweatshirt stick heavily to your skin as the rain drips steadily down your back from the tree overhead.

“I don’t want to play your game anymore.” You whisper out, clenching your jaw, trying to stop your teeth from violently knocking together.

It’s fucking freezing, and the longer you stand here, the more sure you’re going to freeze to death.

He arches a dark brow at your words, disappearing into the red paint that runs along his hairline-some extension of his creepy death day mask-and his lips quirk up dangerously.

You haven’t used the safeword yet in any of your pleading, so he can still play with you as much as he wants, and you both know it.

A thrill of anticipation runs down your spine as he leans in closer once more, swiping his nose along your jaw, nice and slow, taking his time, and you feel the sticky paint he wears transfer to your own skin, striped across your throat like a brand.

“Interesting.” He muses, voice low and honeyed, sending a pool of warmth to your core where it settles directly between your legs. “How you’re still avoiding my question.”

And then his fingers close around your throat, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to control, pinning you back roughly against the bark of the tree, and all the breath caves from your lungs.

His fingers dig into the divots just beneath your jaw, and you can feel your own pulse pounding beneath his hold.

It’s exciting, intoxicating, and it makes you forget about the cold, miserable state you’re currently in.

He leans in once more, eyes swirling gold beneath the makeup, and lifts his lips in a snarl, the tips of his sharp canines flashing white in the dark, your heart rising to your throat.

The air is crisp with a brewing storm.

“I’ll give you one more chance.” He growls beneath his breath, and the words scraping past his teeth have you clenching up in need. You gasp for air, and not because of the hand around your throat, and he leans in again, teeth grazing across your bottom lip.

He doesn’t kiss you, just hovers his mouth over yours, so you can feel his hot breath wash across your face with every exhale, and then he grinds out, “Do you like it when he fucks you.”

It’s not a question, it’s a demand.

His free hand goes into your hair, fisting there, yanking your head back to force you to meet his gaze, and you gasp out, as your entire body tingles, “Yes! Yes. I like it.”

He holds you there for another moment, staring down at you, the space between you filled with nothing but your harsh breaths, and then he slowly unclenches his hand from your hair, letting your head drop back down to your chest.

“There we go. See how easy that was?” His voice is sultry, pleasant even, now that he’s got what he wanted.

You take in a couple of gulps of air, your lungs on fire and your entire body sprung like a snapping electrical wire.

One by one, his fingers uncurl from your throat and he lets you go entirely, stepping back and removing his body where it’s been pinning you against the tree for the last twenty minutes or so, and you instantly feel cold again, your muscles resuming their shaking.

He tilts his head, watching you, and it’s too dark to see anything but the dark reds and blacks of his face paint, the golden swirl in his eyes, and the flash of his sharp teeth when he smirks, before he says smoothly, “I’ll keep my end of the deal. But I’d start running if I were you, before I change my mind.”

Your brows arch into your hairline in surprise, leaned over against the tree, trying to catch your breath, and you stare at him, as he backs toward the nearby treeline, away from you.

You straighten up as he turns to take a step, starting to disappear back into the thicker, darker part of the woods.

“What if I don’t want to run?”

He pauses midstep, glancing over his shoulder at your bold words, and a flash of lightning overhead illuminates the surprise twisting his face beneath the paint of his mask.

You take a confident step toward him, the rain dripping from your hair and into your eyes, making the night appear fuzzy around you, but he’s clear as day, standing, waiting, warily watching you.

“What if I want to tell you how much I like him fucking me?” You question quietly, sneakers barely making a sound as you advance toward him, cold long forgotten as a renewed fire flares deep within your bones. “What if I want to tell you every single detail of how it feels, down to the way I always come while gasping his name?”

“Don’t-” He chokes out, facing you head on now, eyes wide and golden, chest heaving, and you know, you know without a doubt-

You’ve got him. He’s the one playing your game now.

“Do you want to know what it’s like?” You query casually, taking another step, and he’s staring you down without blinking, pupils blown wide and so dark they could swallow you whole.

Another flash of lightning, followed by a boom of thunder, and you smirk, because you’re enjoying this game now, the hunted turned into the hunter.

Your sneakers soak with water as you step into a particularly deep puddle, but you ignore the icy cold liquid sloshing in your shoes, your entire body on fire as you stalk toward him.

He’s frozen, hovering just in front of the safety of the woods, caught between his salvation and his demise.

“I bet you’d like it, you know.” You go on, doggedly ignoring the rain as you get closer, ever closer. “In fact, I know you would, because why else would you ask if you didn’t want to know?”

His throat bobs with a swallow, and you can see the hunger growing deep within his eyes.

The tables have turned.

He’s no longer the big bad wolf, you are.

“Do you picture it?” You ask, voice soft and low, the space all but nonexistent between the two of you now.

You cock your head curiously and stare up at him-the grotesque face paint, the hood pulled low over his head, the slight part of his lips, as if he’s trying to get enough air and can’t quite fill his lungs.

Something hot and triumphant swirls in your belly, and you confidently loop your arms around his neck, pulling your body flush against his own.

He’s warm, even through the soaking wet hoodie he wears, and he’s hard, just like you knew he would be.

You lean up and let your lips brush the lobe of his ear as you speak.

“Do you picture it when you’re alone and getting yourself off? Your best friend fucking me? Do you picture what it would be like to be there? Hm? Just you and him and me, all tangled up, nothing but skin-”

He’s panting slightly now,and you hide your smirk behind your teeth, letting your hand trail down his back, the muscles tense beneath your palm.

“Do you let yourself think about it? Who would get to be inside of me? Or maybe you’d share? Would you use your mouth, your fingers? Would I say his name or yours when I finally let myself come?”

He swallows, and you turn your head into his throat, letting your teeth graze his scent gland, and he shudders, putty in your hands.

“I’d let the two of you do it, you know. All you have to do is say the word, Channie.”

Your voice is a purr, and he swallows again, harder this time.

“What word?” He rasps out, and you’ve got him.

You let your hands fall from his neck enough to step back and meet his gaze, eyes hot and molten, lips sucked between his teeth.

You tilt your head and look at him coyly, suddenly dropping the pretense as you stare up at him, triumphant smugness washing across your face as you say lightly, all sultriness gone from your tone, “Well, you can start by admitting I won.”

He looks confused, and you hold up your left hand, black scrunchie wrapped around your fingers.

You grin and back away.

Irritation washes across his eyes, lips pulling into a dangerous, thin line, and he takes a menacing step toward you.

You, however, have no intention of letting him catch you.

You wiggle your fingers at him, tucking the scrunchie in your hoodie pocket for safe keeping.

“See you back at base, baby.”

And then you turn and sprint into the woods without a backward glance.

You can hear him, hot on your heels, the whole race back to the quad and the waiting cars, but he doesn’t have the chance to catch you, not with the two second head start you’d given yourself, and soon, you find yourself sprinting onto the manicured grass of the college, joining the rest of the prey as you triumphantly hold the black scrunchie aloft.

The rest of your group whoops and hollers, picking you up and holding you on their shoulders like you’ve just won the goddamn olympics, and you grin down at Chan, entering the quad moments after you, a glare focused in your direction as he comes to a stop and catches his breath beside the other waiting Predators.

Wooyoung grins as you’re let down, plucking the scrunchie from your hand and adding it to the growing pile on the hood of the car.

“Well done, beautiful. We’ve totally got them tonight.” He bangs his hand on the hood of the car to emphasize his words, and beside him, Jongho rolls his eyes good naturedly beneath the paint of his warrior mask.

“Prey for the winnnnn!” Jisung hollers, slinging an arm around your shoulders, as he smacks a loud kiss against your ear.

You swipe at the wet skin he’s left behind, paint coming off onto your fingers, and glance sidelong at him, his dark eyes somehow made even darker by the white, ghostly paint he wears slathered across his face.

“We haven’t won yet.” Hyunjin points out, pursing his full lips, as he counts the scrunchies, the red lipstick he wears smeared across one corner of his mouth. “We still need two more Predator tokens.”

You glance to the said group of hunters, milling around across from you beside their own car, shadows in the blazing headlights, the downpour of dark rain, and mentally take count in your head.

Chan, Changbin, Hongjoong, San, Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi-

Shit, Seonghwa and Minho were still out there.

You glance around at the members of your own group surrounding you, and a sinking realization hits the pit of your stomach.

Jeongin. Where’s Jeongin?

There was an extra predator out there tonight, one less prey, which meant someone had to take on two hunters, and somehow, amidst all the hunting, the youngest member had been left alone, in the woods, with Minho and Seonghwa.

They were hunting him, together.

Everything goes cold, and it’s not because you’re soaked to the bone.

“Shit.” You swear out loud this time, and Jisung looks at you questioningly, arm still looped around your throat. You glance at him and whisper urgently, “Minho and Seonghwa are out there still, and Jeongin’s alone.”

Realization dawns in Jisung’s dark eyes, and his lips pull into a thin line.

“Should one of us go looking for him?”

You shake your head, blinking a few times to clear the sting of the makeup running from the rain and into your eyes, and bite your lip.

“I don’t know-” You glance across the gap to the predators. “How many of our scrunchies did they make out with?”

“All of them.” Jongho appears at your side, narrowing his eyes at the waiting predators.

“Not mine-” You start to protest, reaching down to your wrist for the cool fabric, but feeling nothing there. You panic, patting your pockets, and Jisung nudges you in the side, motioning with a jut of his chin toward the other car.

You see Chan, standing in front of the headlights, watching you, and when he sees you looking at him, he holds up his hand, your white scrunchie dangling tauntingly from his fingers.

He winks at you, lips pulled into a smirk, and you growl in irritation beneath your breath.

“Dammit.”

“It’s just a matter of time.” Jongho goes on beside you, leaning up against the car, the rain dripping from his dark hair and smearing the makeup on his round cheeks. He flips off Mingi across the way, who grins like the Cheshire cat, and then sighs. “Your boy has to make it back first with both missing predator tokens, or we’re fucked.”

Jisung groans. “Fuck it all, and tonight I really thought we had a chance of winning.”

“We still do.” You protest, glancing toward the dark treeline, but making out no movement. The confidence in your voice weakens slightly. “He could still pull it off.”

Wooyoung appears, leaning his chin on Jongho’s shoulder, and audibly scoffs.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He ignores your pointed glare and swipes at his nose, smearing the red clown paint from the tip. “Seonghwa-hyung is notoriously brutal at this game. Your little freshman doesn’t stand a chance.”

Seungmin sidles up beside Jisung, hands in his pockets, his raincoat drenched and his dark hair plastered to his forehead. The puppy face paint Felix had forced him into before you left the apartment is all but wiped from his skin as he surveys the dark expanse of the forest.

“Minho-hyung isn’t gonna let him go if he catches him, not until he has the scrunchie.”

“He’s a fucking predator, man.” Jisung heaves out a sigh, dejected, but a slight gleam of admiration in his words. “On and off the playing field.”

“Hey.” Chan appears several feet from the group of you, and you glance to him warily, turning your body to face him, even as he holds out his hands, palm up, as if in truce. “Don’t tear me apart. I’m just here to deliver a message.”

Wooyoung smirks wryly, watching the two of you, and Jisung rolls his eyes as you step forward to meet the other alpha, arms crossed and brow cocked.

“Well?”

His casual expression falters slightly, and then he clears his throat, holding your gaze.

“If they’re not back in ten minutes, we’re gonna call it a tie and find them for the night. We’re freezing our fucking asses off.”

“And if he wins?” You ask heatedly, and Chan looks caught off guard.

“If your boy pulls it off then-”

A whoop sounds from the edge of the woods, and everyone-prey and predator-turn as one to see Jeongin making a mad dash for the waiting cars, Seonghwa and Minho hot on his heels.

Chan’s mouth falls open, and you grin triumphantly.

“And if he wins?”

He looks back to you with open shock on his face, as the rest of the prey team starts screaming encouragement at the approaching youngest, some of them holding their arms out as he comes barreling toward your group.

You smirk and turn from Chan, right as Jeongin plows into the waiting arms of Jisung and Wooyoung, two black scrunchies held triumphantly aloft.

Minho and Seonghwa are seconds behind him, sliding to a halt so as not to bowl the waiting group of prey over, hands instantly going to their knees as they gasp for breath.

“Fucking kid tricked us!” Seonghwa yells out, clearly irritated, and Jeongin grins.

“Boo hoo!” Wooyoung calls back mockingly, snatching the scrunchies and adding them to your now complete pile. He steps back over and holds Jeongin’s arms in the air in a triumphant fist pump. “Prey win!”

“Let’s goooo!” Jisung crows triumphantly, swinging the still grinning Jeongin into his arms and spinning him around, almost stumbling over his own feet. “Way to go, kid!”

You step toward the freshman, grinning ear to ear, and do a quick visual check on him. He looks fine, if a little muddier than you last saw him, lips stretched wide, makeup running down his face, panting as he tries to catch his breath and avoid all the hugs and head locks from the older prey members.

He looks happy.

You glance over your shoulder and see Minho accept a water bottle from Changbin’s outstretched hand, his brow furrowed in a glare toward Jeongin.

You saunter over to the predators, and arch a brow at Minho and Seonghwa, both of them now greedily gulping down their water, chests still heaving.

“What happened?”

Minho lowers the water bottle and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his dark eyes flashing as he growls out, “The fucking kid happened, that’s what.”

Seonghwa tosses his now empty bottle into the back of the nearest car with a little more force than necessary.

“Yeah, goddammit. He played us.”

Your lips quirk upward into the hint of a smirk. “Wow. Almost like this is a game or something.”

Minho fixes his glare on you now.

“Careful, sweetheart, I’ve got a lot of adrenaline and anger that needs an outlet.”

Chan is watching you warily from behind the duo of alphas, his eyes flicking to your own.

Something strange washes across his expression, and then he ducks his head, moving to say something low to Yeosang beside him.

You pull your gaze back to Minho’s once more as Hongjoong slings an arm around Seonghwa’s waist and grins widely.

“Sorry, boys. Looks like prey bested us tonight fair and square.”

Seonghwa grumbles something under his breath and Hongjoong chuckles, Minho still looking slightly murderous, the dark eyeliner lining his lids doing nothing to make him look less dangerous.

San heaves a sigh from beside the older alpha, rolling his eyes.

“God, we’re never gonna hear the end of this. Seonghwa-hyung’s a terribly sore loser.”

Seonghwa turns his glower to the beta, who readily puts his hands up in defeat and saunters away to find Wooyoung.

“Ah, princess, don’t be like that.” Hongjoong teases, reaching up to wipe a smudge of mud off of Seonghwha’s cheek, the taller man’s pink glitter face paint all but gone. When their gazes meet heatedly, Hongjoong cocks his head and offers the other alpha a sweetly sickening smirk. “Don’t ruin the fun just because the little freshman beat you and Minho’s asses at your own game.”

Seonghwa mutters something that looks like a curse beneath his breath, and Hongjoong grins, leaning up to whisper something in his ear in return that has the other man blushing beneath what remains of his makeup.

You turn to Minho, who is still watching Jeongin celebrate with the other members of your group, slowly crushing the now empty water bottle with a crackle into nothing but a lump in his fist.

You sling an arm around his shoulders and press a kiss to the glistening arch of his cheekbone. He gives you a glare, but it holds less bite than you’re used to, and you bite back a smile.

“How’d he do it then?”

Minho eyes you warily and you offer him a shrug.

“Promise I won’t tell the others. Your little embarrassing secret is safe with me.” You glance across to Jeongin, held up on Jisung’s shoulders above the crowd. “Can’t promise the same for him though.”

Minho grumbles something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, his expression sour, and then he sighs.

You try not to laugh at his obvious dejection, the whiskers Jisung had painted across his cheeks before you all left slowly leaking black paint down his chin and throat, a physical manifestation of his obvious displeasure.

He glances up at the rain falling from the sky, blinking slowly as it pelts his face, his hair plastered to his forehead, and then he says in defeat, “The fucking kid double crossed us.” He shifts his gaze to Jeongin, climbing into the back seat between Jisung and Hyunjin, and narrows his eyes, his lips thinning. “He had Hwa convinced he had him, and he had me convinced I had him, and then-”

You bite back a grin, but it’s harder this time.

“Neither of you had him.”

Minho blows out a harsh breath and scrubs at his eyes with the backs of his hands while he lets out a frustrated growl.

“Fucking kid.”

You smile and loop your arm around his waist, heading toward the nearest car.

“Sorry for your loss?”

Minho narrows his gaze on you, his eyes flashing.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re really torn up about it.”

You laugh and glance up to see Chan watching the two of you, before he hurriedly slides in behind the steering wheel of his waiting car, already running and filling up with pack members.

Wooyoung stands up, leaning through the sunroof of Hongjoong’s jeep as he cups his hands around his mouth and yells out impatiently at the rest of you still not in vehicles yet, “C’mon, mutts, load up! We’ve got a Halloween party to crash!”

You roll your eyes, because it’s their Halloween party, and it won’t start until you get there, but you hide a smile anyway, folding your teeth between your lips, and follow Minho into the dark back seat of Chan’s waiting car, sudden excitement pulling at your stomach.

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip, tasting the salt of sweat and the cakey texture of makeup, washed there by the downpour outside, and feel your heart speed up in the walls of your chest as Chan pulls the car onto the road, headlights sweeping the dark, following the others.

The night, and all the fun, was only just beginning.

*****

“This movie blows.” Jongho complains, as he tosses another handful of popcorn into his mouth and Jisung shoots the omega a withering look from his seat on the opposite end of the couch, legs tangled up with Hyunjin’s.

“No one said you had to watch it.”

“Cool.” Jongho immediately replies, heaving himself up and brushing through the shroud of Halloween decorations hanging over the living room entry, disappearing down the hallway to his room.

A scream filters from the TV, and Felix whimpers, burying close into Minho’s side.

You untangle yourself from Yeosang and Mingi, shoving their legs and the blanket off your lap, ignoring the groans and protests as you get up from the couch and the current bloodbath happening on the screen of the TV as you stretch your arms above your head and yawn.

“Perfect time for a pee break and some more alcohol.” You remark, as Yeosang tosses you his empty cup.

“Get me something too.”

You stare him down, and he finally rolls his eyes, already curling up against Mingi beneath the blanket and batting his lids sweetly in your direction to try to appear cute.

“Please.” He adds, and you almost resist the urge to flip him off. Almost.

You head into the kitchen, empty cups in hand, and as you head for the table full of selections of various alcohol, you’re not surprised to see Chan and Changbin leaning against the counter in the dark kitchen, beers dangling from their fingers, as Chan shows something to the other alpha on his brightly lit phone.

Hongjoong sits up on the counter beside them, leaning over Changbin’s shoulder to see, interest apparent in his large, dark eyes, reflected by the phone’s light.

You set the empty cups down on the table, careful not to set off the creepy witch in the middle that cackles if you trigger her motion sensor, and lean back, watching the three of them in the dim green light from the glowsticks hung around the low ceiling of the room.

You’re not sure if they know you’re there, but then Chan glances up from his phone and his eyes connect with yours, and he clears his throat.

Somewhere from the living room, a girl’s scream shrieks through the air.

You cock an eyebrow at the trio, running your fingers absently along the silky spider webs spread across the backs of the chairs as you watch them.

You’d give it to him, Seonghwa sure as hell knew how to throw a party.

You’re still staring, and Chan is still studiously avoiding your gaze.

You note briefly the dark, smudged makeup ringing his eyes, making them look more golden than before, and it sets something off in your stomach, quivering and anticipatory.

You hide a grin and tap your finger along the table, hidden behind a cheap brightly orange table cloth covered in spiders and ghosts.

“Why am I not surprised that the three of you are here?”

Changbin grins, teeth white in the dark, and arches a brow at you, the skeleton mask painted on his face, smeared from the rain, stretching with the expression.

“It’s Halloween. What better time to hang out in dark kitchen corners and skulk around and scare the locals?”

He leaps toward you suddenly with a mighty roar, hands outstretched into claws, but when you don’t jump, staring him down, he stops short and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I’m not a local, and you’re not very scary, Seo Changbin.”

He shrugs easily and steps around you, reaching for another beer.

“Worth a shot.”

He slides up against you, closer than needed, perusing the alcohol, and smoke is strong in your nose, as he turns his head slightly and lets his nose bump into your jaw, his voice barely a whisper as he suggests cheekily, “I mean, I know some other things we could be doing. If you’re not up for scaring.”

You let your chin tilt toward him, your lips meeting his nose in a quick little peck, your own voice low in response.

“And what if I told you I like to be scared?”

His dark eyes meet your own, sudden intrigue flashing there, before his gaze drops down your face to your lips, only centimeters from his own.

“That can be arranged.”

You feel eyes on the two of you, and you glance over to see Chan watching the interaction, his breaths slightly faster than before, his lips parted hungrily.

He looks away as soon as you meet his gaze.

Hongjoong hops down from the counter and stretches his arms over his head, easily catching the beer Changbin tosses his way.

“I gotta go check on Hwa.” He grins, uncapping the beer and taking a swig, already headed for the ghostly curtain separating the kitchen from the living room. “Help him set up for games or some shit.”

“Yeah, sure.” Changbin calls out after the other alpha tauntingly, and Hongjoong wiggles his eyebrows at him suggestively, before flipping him off and disappearing under the curtain.

You glance to Chan once more after the other alpha’s departure, and he’s fiddling with his phone, turning it over and over in his hands, and Changbin is cracking open his beer, leaning up against the table beside you as if he doesn’t feel the sexual tension in the stifling air of the small kitchen, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Or maybe it’s just you. Could be you.

Another scream echoes from the movie in the other room, and you swipe Changbin’s beer out of his hand as he lifts it to take a gulp.

“Hey!” He protests, reaching for the alcohol, but you hold it out of his grasp and stare him down.

“I want to play a game.”

He glares and takes a menacing step toward you. “I don’t.”

You dodge around his advance easily and set the open bottle on the table as he turns to face you once more, open exasperation on his face, dark hair falling over his brow, flecked with white specks of paint.

“I promise it will be fun.”

You can feel Chan watching the two of you, feeling it out, but he remains silent, and you don’t look at him.

Changbin heaves a sigh and you offer him a pleading grin, arching your brow.

He sighs again and folds his arms over his chest. “Is that a promise you can keep?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He narrows his eyes and takes another step toward you, and you don’t back up, your ass already hitting the table as it is.

He takes your chin between his fingers, and lowers his mouth dangerously close to your own, hot breath washing over your lips with every word.

“And if you can’t?”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine, and heat curls between your thighs.

You hold his gaze, unwavering.

“Then you can punish me.”

His brow lifts a hint in interest. “By scaring you?”

You shrug, trying to act casual, as warmth pools in your gut.

“Sure. If you want.”

“Oh, baby girl, trust me.” His voice is a low growl in his throat, and you feel dangerously close to the edge like this, hovering, just in front of something you can’t quite see. He grins wickedly, and flicks his thumb across your bottom lip, making you gasp. “There is nothing I want more.”

He studies you for another moment, fingers digging into your jaw, and then he breathes out a long controlled sigh, releasing you and stepping back with effort.

You blink a few times, trying to clear the smoke from your senses and the rapid pulse from between your legs.

You hear Chan swallow thickly, and suddenly, you’re pulled back to the present.

Changbin’s arms go back over his chest.

“All right. What’s the game?”

You glance past the looming alpha to Chan, still leaning against the counter, and you note the way his formerly relaxed stance is now stiff, his knuckles turning white where he holds the lip of the formica, as if keeping himself steady, or stopping himself from running, you’re not quite sure.

But he’s still here, and he hasn’t run away yet.

You lick your lips and glance back to Changbin, raising a finger in Chan’s direction.

“Him.”

Confusion etches Changbin’s brow, and you hear Chan take in a sharp breath, but he doesn’t move, watching the two of you, frozen.

“What?”

You hold Changbin’s gaze, not wavering, as you repeat, “Him.”

Changbin glances to Chan and then back to you slowly, still somewhat unsure of what’s really going on.

You take a step in his direction.

“You want him, right?” You ask quietly, and Changbin’s dark eyes widen a hair, his lips gaping.

He stays rooted in place, watching as you take another step, narrowing the space between the two of you.

You look up at him.

“You’ve always wanted him.” You repeat, softer this time, and you glance to Chan, who’s warily watching the interaction, but his eyes are wide, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

You turn back to Changbin.

“But you never let yourself have him. Because he’s your best friend. And some things aren’t worth fucking up.”

You let your fingers trail out, down the strong curve of Changbin’s arm, and you hear him suck in a breath.

Heat starts to gather once more in your center.

It’s an answer, even if he didn’t say the words.

You slide your fingers up the warm skin of his arms, across his throat, into his hair, and his eyes flutter shut momentarily at the feel of your hands tangling in his dark curls, tugging his head back slightly, as you fit yourself into him.

“But he wants you too, you know.” You whisper, and Changbin’s eyes flash open, pupils dark and impossibly large, staring down at you as his throat bobs in an uncertain swallow.

Smoke burns your throat and eyes, but you ignore it, tracing a thumb across the plush warm rise of his bottom lip, admiring the pink skin.

“He’s always wanted you.” You breathe out, and you drop your hand, staring up at him. “He wants you like this-”

You lean up and cover his mouth with yours, diving into him, your tongue slipping between his waiting lips and your teeth meeting his, tasting him, savoring him, as he groans into your open mouth.

Your hand fists into the back of his sweatshirt, still slightly damp from the earlier game outside in the rain, and you tug him back from you, giving you enough space to breathe, as you murmur huskily, voice thick with sudden need, “And he wants you like this-” You let your hand slip down the minimal space between the two of you, and you feel him in your palm through the material of his sweats, rock hard and ready.

He moans, leaning his forehead into yours, panting with his mouth open and his eyes closed.

You slide your fist around him, wet heat licking up your thighs at the feel of the friction, and he bucks into your hand, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

“Fuck, baby-” He chokes out through gritted teeth, and you stop, stilling your hand on him, letting him catch his breath.

You can’t end the game too quickly. Where’s the fun in that?

You feel his heartbeat against your own, and you cock your head, looking up at him as he finally opens his eyes and stares down at you, bleary and a little out of focus.

“He said as much, you know. In the woods earlier.”

Changbin glances to Chan over your shoulder, the other man frozen still against the counter, eyes locked on the two of you, and lets out a shaky sigh, his fingers resting on your hips, digging into the skin there.

“What did he say?” Changbin asks huskily, his eyes still locked on the other alpha beside the fridge.

You smile slightly and fix your gaze on Chan as well, his pupils large and dark, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly.

You can smell how badly he wants it in the air, you both can.

“He asked me if I liked it.” You reply simply, trailing your finger up the column of Changbin’s throat, watching the way he tenses beneath your touch. “When you fucked me.”

Changbin turns his gaze back to you, fiery golden tendrils snaking into his irises now.

“And what did you say?” He all but growls, holding you still, nails digging into your hips, biting, marking the skin.

At your silence, he tugs you to him roughly, threading fingers through your hair and forcing your head back, teeth sharp as he snarls warningly.

“What. Did. You. Say.”

You smile, sweetly, and tilt your head away from his, gazing at Chan again.

“I dunno, what did I say, Channie?”

Changbin growls,a low and dangerous rumble in his chest, but he doesn’t speak again, waiting to hear what the other alpha has to say.

Chan’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then he replies back, voice steady and confident, “Yes. She said yes.”

Changbin’s fingers relax just a bit on your hips, but his body stays tense against yours.

“Yes what?” You taunt sweetly, splaying your hands, palms down, across Changbin’s warm, tight chest as you cock your head and continue to stare down Chan.

Chan swallows, his throat bobbing, and you can see how hard he is from here, straining against his jeans.

“Yes, she likes it when you fuck her.”

Changbin growls again, deep in his throat, and dives into your mouth, licking, biting, tasting, his tongue swallowing you whole, hot and slick and sweet, making you shudder against him, whimpering as heat trickles between your thighs.

He pulls back and grabs your chin in his fingers, golden eyes pinning you down.

“Good girl.”

You stare at him, not looking away, but when you speak, it’s to Chan.

“What else did I say? In the woods.”

There is a beat of silence, and then his voice, low and heated, “You said I could have that. Have you both. If I only said the word.”

Changbin’s eyes flicker past you to the other man, and you don’t miss the alpha rear its head, hungry and suddenly interested.

Your fingers dig into Changbin’s upper arms, steadying yourself. You lean your forehead into his chest, breathing in and out slowly a few times, listening to his thundering heartbeat, settling yourself, but you don’t glance back.

“And?” You question firmly, throat suddenly dry.

Changbin’s muscles tense beneath your hold, but he makes no move toward Chan.

There is the scuff of a shoe on the floor, and the scent of rain crashes over you, closer than before, clearing out the smoke and the frost and washing away anything else.

Chan’s voice is barely above a whisper, caught in his throat, hoarse and husky, but with more confidence than you’ve ever heard from him before, when he replies softly, “Word.”

Everything inside of your brain goes quiet, and you turn then, your breath calm, your heartbeat steady, your motions sure, as you catch sight of him, hovering just beside the table, almost within reach.

He’s close enough, that if you wanted, you could reach out and touch him, feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers, but you hold back, because it’s not you who needs to touch him first, at least not right now.

Changbin is a looming, solid presence at your back, his chest brushing you with every heavy inhale and exhale he takes, his muscles still tightly wound, as if he’s waiting for something to drop, to break, to shatter at your feet in a million unfixable pieces.

But it doesn’t, the moment remaining quiet, intact, and you’re all still standing here, no one running. Not yet.

Smoke begins to curl back in around the rain and you reach for his hand, tugging him in front of you. He goes without struggle, seemingly on autopilot, his eyes still locked with Chan’s across the distance.

You lean into him, your chin on his shoulder, your body molded to the warmth of his back, and watch the two best friends stare each other down in silence, tension thickening the air.

“You should touch him.” You murmur in Changbin’s ear, and he shivers as your breath washes over his throat, breaking the trance a bit.

You let your lips brush across his scent gland when you talk next, feeling the hot rush of his skin beneath your mouth as you form your words, motioning with a jut of your chin toward Chan.

“Look at him. He wants you to. He’s so fucking hard it practically hurts.”

Changbin’s gaze roams down Chan’s body, slow and open and hungry, and the other alpha takes in a shaking breath where he stands, but he still doesn’t move.

He’s letting Changbin come to him.

You admire his resilience.

Your teeth graze along the curve of Changbin’s jaw, your hands palming the strong lines of his abdomen beneath his hoodie.

“C’mon, baby.” You whisper with a kiss against his throat, your fingers stilling on the waist of his sweats, teasing him, egging him on. “Touch him or I will.”

“Oh my god.” Chan groans out beneath his breath at your words, his knuckles going white on the back of the chair he’s using to steady himself, his lips parted as he openly pants, squeezing his eyes closed.

Changbin growls at the quiet threat in your tone, but it’s the push he needs, because in one lunge he closes the distance between the two of you and Chan and grabs the other alpha by the chin, yanking him into him as he covers his mouth with his.

Chan’s groan is instantly swallowed up by Changbin’s mouth as he devours him whole, desperate and ravenous and out of control like a starving man tasting food for the first time.

You watch, the heat mounting between your legs, resisting the urge to rub your thighs together to take off the edge, and you bite back a whimper, because god, they’re perfect together.

Where Changbin had started out rough and ready and violent, like a storm coming in off the sea, Chan had matched him step for step, holding pace, coming in like a strong, steady undercurrent, keeping them on course, right where they needed to be.

His fingers splay out along Changbin’s jaw as the other alpha backs him into the counter, and their lips pop apart as Chan slides his free hand down between them, under the waistband of Changbin’s sweats, fisting him.

Changbin sucks in a breath, his forehead meeting Chan’s, his eyes going impossibly dark.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He gasps out, a trickle of sweat dripping down his temple, smearing a streak into the makeup on one side of his face.

Chan grins, giving an experimental stroke, and huffs a breathless laugh when Changbin bares his teeth around a groan and bucks into him.

“Yeah, me too.” He admits quietly, small grin still in place, eyes fond.

Another swipe of his hand, and Changbin snarls, crashing their lips back together once more.

You’re itching out of your skin, and the wetness now soaking through your jeans has nothing to do with the dampness leftover from the earlier rain.

Seonghwa’s gonna kill you for fucking in his kitchen.

You’re backing toward the door quietly, thinking that maybe you’ll rope Jisung or Minho into helping you out with your current little ‘problem’, leaving the two guys alone to enjoy their shit, when you bump into a kitchen chair.

Changbin pulls away from Chan at the noise, and you freeze, staring at the two of them, lit by nothing but the orange Christmas lights Seonghwa has strung all over the cabinets.

They’re both breathing hard, exhales ragged, and Chan leans his forehead into Changbin’s as he pulls his hand reluctantly from the front of the other man’s pants.

Changbin doesn’t look at you, his heated gaze focused solely on Chan, as he commands quietly, warningly, “Don’t move.”

He finally releases the other alpha and steps in your direction, eyes dark and swirling, expression unreadable.

His fingers slide along your chin and he holds you in a firm, strong grip, keeping you from turning away.

When he speaks again, his tone is dark, velvet, and dangerous.

“Are you ready for your punishment?”

Your eyes widen slightly and your heart thunders in your chest.

“But-the game was fun, wasn’t it?”

He chuckles, but it’s not amused, it’s wicked and hints at things to come, his fingers stroking strongly along your jawline as he leans in, lips close to yours, eyes glinting like minted coins.

“Oh, baby, but I want to scare you.”

Your throat goes dry, and you stare at him, not moving a muscle. Your heart is about to beat through your chest, you resist the urge to choke on the smoke as you inhale, quick and short.

Chan appears at Changbin’s side, his own eyes molten, and he gives you a knowing smirk, eyes trailing down your body languidly, before Changbin is taking your wrist and pulling you hurriedly from the kitchen.

They flank you, tugging you through the living room where the other members of the packs still watch terrible, cheesy horror movies, and Changbin doesn’t even pause, calling over his shoulder as you struggle halfheartedly against his hold, “(Y/N) forgot something at her dorm. We’ll be back in a couple minutes.” No one tries to stop you.

They usher you out into the hall, and you finally manage to pull your wrist from Changbin’s grip with a glare, only to immediately be swooped up and thrown over Chan’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Hey!” You protest, slightly out of breath, as you wiggle to free yourself once more, but Chan carries you like you weigh nothing, putting no effort into holding you captive as they head for the elevator and Changbin presses the button to the lower floor.

“What the fuck?” You swear and hit Chan’s back with your fists, kicking your legs, and Changbin turns to face you, staring you down as you struggle, his lips quirked into the start of an amused smirk.

You want to wipe it right off his stupid face.

He leans back against the wall of the elevator, arms crossed over his chest.

“Now you’re gonna play our game.”

The elevator dings at the arrival of the bottom floor of the alpha dorm and Changbin steps out of the elevator, Chan following him as he steps off the main lobby and into the convention room, dark and unused at this hour.

Chan sets you back down on your feet and you huff an annoyed breath, straightening your clothes as you glower at both of them.

“Again. What the fuck?”

“Here’s the deal-” Changbin cages you against the wall, ignoring your outrage, leaning into your space as his nose skims your jaw. He takes a long inhale of your scent, and you force yourself to not shiver at the contact. “-you get a five minute head start.”

He pulls back, one palm still on the wall against your head, and cocks a brow at you. “Following so far?”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, but finally nod begrudgingly.

He smirks, and reaches up to push some hair back from your forehead.

“Good girl.” He glances over his shoulder at Chan, who is watching the two of you, eyes gleaming in the dark, a hungry look all over his face.

He turns back to you and thumbs across your bottom lip.

“You get the bottom floor. That’s it. Once five minutes is up, we’re coming to find you, so you’d better hope you hid pretty fucking well, baby.”

Your muscles tremble, and your heart leaps into your throat in nervous excitement as you hold his gaze, tipping your chin up confidently.

“What happens if you find me?” You ask, not because you particularly care, but because you want to hear him say the answer.

Changbin chuckles darkly, sharp teeth flashing, and tips your chin up to him once more.

“We get to do whatever we want with you.” He glances over his shoulder at Chan, who has drifted closer, and cocks his head. “What do you say, Channie? Winner gets to set the price, and the loser pays it?”

The other alpha nods, smirking slightly.

“Sounds good to me.”

You scoff and he looks back to you in slight amusement.

“And what if you don’t find me?” You ask, just to be contrary and stubborn, because you have no doubt they will.

Changbin looks just as confident as you think he should as he leans into your space and nips across your throat, sending your pulse skittering in your chest.

“Oh, trust me, baby, we’ll find you. There’s no scenario where we don’t.”

You swallow, and he grins, dropping his voice, breath hot against your ear.

“I’m going to fucking terrify you.”

You swallow again, thicker this time, and Changbin steps back, giving you space. You rub at your arms, suddenly chilled and pimpled with goosebumps after the loss of his body heat, and he motions with his chin toward the door.

“Five minute head start. Are you ready?” He arches a brow, lips curved as he throws an arm around Chan’s shoulders, both of them staring you down. “And use your time wisely, because I’m not a patient man, baby, and I won’t wait any longer than that.”

You nod and push off the wall, and Changbin grins dangerously-all sharp teeth and shadows and alpha predator.

“Good. Go.”

You dart out of the room and disappear into the dark hallways of the bottom floor of the dorm.

You get as far as you can as fast as you can, and then you let yourself think strategy.

Your heart is pounding in your ears, your breaths loud in the dark silence as you slide around another countless corner and sprint into an unfamiliar office space. The door isn’t locked, so you take that as a good sign, sliding between the desk and the cabinet in the corner, into the dark alcove created behind the curtain that hangs over the small window.

How long has it been? Definitely five minutes. They’ll be coming.

You crouch down, making yourself as small as possible, and curl into the pitch black corner, focusing on slowing your breathing-in through your nose, out through your mouth-and remaining as still as possible.

They’ll hear any sort of movement, and you can’t risk giving away your position.

The scent blockers you all had applied earlier in the night, before the first game of hide and seek, still seem to be working fairly well, even with all the sweat and rain, and you’ll just have to hope that it’s enough to keep them from following your scent trail directly to your hiding spot.

Your heart is slowing against your ribs, and your breathing is quieting, when you hear the creak of a footstep outside the door to the office.

You immediately freeze, not even daring to breathe, listening for any hint as to where they might be.

The makeup from the evening’s earlier festivities is dripping, stinging your eyes, but you don’t move to wipe it away.

Another soft, slow footstep, and you hold your breath, putting your hand over your mouth.

Suddenly, someone swipes aside the curtain and crouches in front of your hiding place, and you yelp, biting off the sound before it can fully leave your lips.

It’s dark, but you make out the flash of Chan’s teeth as he smiles, the scent of petrichor washing over you as he leans toward you, arms resting on his knees.

“Found you.”

You let your hand drop from your mouth, and take in a deep, quivering breath, every muscle on high alert, your heart threatening to pound right out of your chest.

Chan cocks his head, watching you with amusement, like a predator finally cornering its prey but planning to play with it first.

“I could keep you a secret you know.” He muses in a low murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “Keep you all to myself.”

Your heart is thundering in your ears.

He grins again.

“But where’s the fun in that?”

A larger, darker shadow of a figure appears behind him then, and Chan tilts his head back to look up at Changbin.

“How’d you manage that so fast?” Changbin grumbles under his breath, clearly put out, and Chan chuckles, shrugging in the dark.

Chan stands, pushing himself to his feet, and they both lean forward at the same time to pull you from your hiding spot, and even though you squirm as far back into the tight space as you can manage, they extract you easily, kicking and swearing.

Changbin tugs you out into the small office space, hands firmly around your upper arms, easily keeping a grip on you as Chan comes to stand in front of you both.

“Easy, baby.” Changbin’s low voice sounds in your ear, amused and lilting, sending warmth between your legs. “We’re just gonna have a little fun.”

You glare at him over your shoulder, sweating and baring your teeth as you spit out, keeping up the game, “Fuck you.”

Not really though. Fuck me please.

Changbin chuckles, dark and low, and glances past you to Chan. “You’re the winner. What’s your price?”

Chan holds his gaze, his throat bobs with a swallow, and then his eyes drift to you, down your body, to the way Changbin’s fingers clutch into the skin of your arms.

“I want to watch.”

You still, staring at the other alpha, and you feel Changbin suck in a breath from behind you, rapid and uneven.

But it’s very clear what Chan’s referring to, as he slides behind you without another word and takes Changbin’s fingers off your skin, pushing him around in front of you as he settles in at your back.

His hand reaches around, fingers lightly resting at the base of your throat, and he pulls you back flush into him, keeping you locked against his chest with the hand beneath your jaw.

He breathes out slowly, the warmth tickling your ear, and you can feel his heart pounding beneath your skull.

Changbin cocks a brow, staring him down, almost challenging, and then he slowly drops to his knees at your feet, still holding the other alpha’s gaze.

All the air in your lungs disappears.

“You’re sure?” He questions his best friend, giving him one last chance to change his mind, as his fingers follow the length of your legs upward, finding purchase on the skin of your hips beneath the hoodie you wear.

You bite your bottom lip, but remain still.

You feel Chan nod against you, his fingers tightening slightly in their hold on your throat.

“Yes.”

The breathless, sure tone of his answer has instant heat pooling between your thighs, and you whine slightly, as Changbin chuckles and moves to undo the closure on your pants.

“Okay.” He simply says, smirking slightly, as he slips the clothing from your legs, the cold air immediately prickling your skin. He glances up at Chan once more, smirk widening wickedly. “Cover her mouth then.”

Chan slides his hand up your throat, his touch across your scent gland making you whimper, and firmly covers your mouth with his palm, fingers digging into the hollows of your cheeks.

You can feel the increase in his breathing against your back, his obvious excitement pressing into you from behind, as Changbin grins one last time and sinks between your legs.

When he touches you, you feel lightheaded, dizzy, and everything inside collides as you squirm helplessly in Chan’s grip, any sound that wants to break past your lips muffled by his hand.

Chan leans back against the desk behind the two of you, supporting your weight, as you give in to the pleasure and start to sink in his arms.

He’s breathing rapidly, eyes never leaving Changbin, and his reaction to what’s happening is maybe even more of a turn on than the actual act itself.

He wants you. Both of you.

When Changbin finally rises from between your legs, letting you come down from the high, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand as you both pant and gasp and try to catch your breath, Chan finally slackens his gaze on your mouth, letting his hand drop back down to the base of your throat, fingers lying limply against the sticky skin there.

“Oh my god.” He breathes out, and you can feel how hard he is just by pressing back against his body.

“Binnie.” You rasp out, voice hoarse from disuse, and the other alpha meets your gaze, lips still shiny and slick, dark eyes swirling. You let your head fall back against Chan, sliding your now free hands down the line of his body as he shivers beneath your touch. “Do him next.”

Changbin leans forward, pinching your chin between his fingers, and there’s slight amusement in his eyes, even as his expression darkens. “Why do I have to do all the work around here?” His gaze flickers down to your mouth. “Why don’t you do him next?”

“Why, you wanna watch?” You quip back, having gained your attitude back along with your breath.

He arches a brow in challenge, leaning in close to growl, “Fuck yeah I do.”

“Guys-” Chan pleads, squirming behind you in obvious discomfort, as you hold each other in a stare down, neither of you moving an inch.

“How about-” You start, lowering your voice, smoothing it out, more a purr and less a growl. You flick his fingers from your chin, just to be defiant, and his eyes flash. “-he gets my mouth, and you get his hand then?”

Chan groans from behind you, but you don’t take your eyes off Changbin.

Your own eyes flick down his body line, to the obvious strain on his sweats, and your lips curve into the start of a smirk.

“Because you obviously need it just as badly as he does.”

Changbin’s lips pull up into a snarl. “Or how about-”

He leans in once more, sliding his hand around Chan’s where it still rests at the base of your throat, and you can’t stop the slight gasp from slipping past your lips as he flexes his fingers, tightening their joined grip slightly.

“-we do that, and then we both get to finish inside?”

You stop breathing, staring at him, and he looks triumphant, knowing he’s won. His gaze flickers over your shoulder to Chan.

“I know he’s got a kink for that. Why not indulge the fantasy?”

Chan groans again, and this time it’s more exasperated than turned on.

“Fuck, can we not bring that up right now-”

“Shut up, baby.” You clip over your shoulder sweetly, eyes still fixed on Changbin. You can’t deny it, his words have you quivering, and you can feel renewed wetness starting to coat the inside of your thighs.

He leans into your space, nose trailing over your jaw, lips slipping across your skin, leaving hot saliva in their wake.

His voice is no more than a murmur as he says, “I told you I was going to fucking terrify you, baby girl.”

His fingers flex on your throat once more as he pulls back smugly, and you can’t wait any longer.

You need them now.

“Fine.” You acquiesce, putting on a show of irritation, but everything inside of you is suddenly hot and fluttering with anticipation. “Both of you get on the table. Now.”

Changbin’s eyebrows raise in amusement at your commanding tone, but he does as you ask, sliding up onto the desk beside Chan as the other man releases you and follows suit.

You turn to face them both, eyes trailing down their lean, muscled bodies, the bulges in their pants, and your mouth waters.

You smirk dangerously as you take a step toward them.

“We played your game but now it’s my turn. Finders keepers, losers weeper and all that shit. Now, be good boys for alpha and take off your pants.”

*******

You settle down on the couch next to Yeosang and hand him his refilled glass of box wine, eyes already trained on the TV and the new movie they’ve started, some slasher horror film that looks way too cheesy to actually be scary.

He gives you a sidelong glance and takes a sip as you spread the blanket over your lap.

“Took you long enough.”

You don’t bother looking at him as you snuggle into his warmth beneath the blanket, sipping on your own drink.

The smell of sea and sand fills your nose, relaxing your muscles.

“I couldn’t find the wine.”

“Mmmhm.” He hums disbelievingly, and his fingers come up to tug down the collar of your hoodie, his eyes perusing the skin of your neck. “Sure.”

You swat his hand away, but he smirks with open amusement at the sight of the dark hickies littering your throat before he says, “Did the hickies help you look faster?”

You stick your tongue out at him and move to face him, trying not to jostle Mingi, who is asleep on your other side.

“Shut up.”

“No.” He quips back with a sniff, taking another gulp of his wine pettily as he inspects his nails.

He lets out a sharp oof as San leans into his other side, chin going down hard on his shoulder as he stares at you.

“Did you need both hyungs to help you find the wine too?”

Of course he was eavesdropping.

He grins triumphantly as you glare at him, but your gaze unwittingly flickers past him to the other couch, where Changbin and Chan had settled, already looking at something-probably music-once more on Chan’s dimly lit phone.

Chan glances up at the feel of your eyes on them, and he tilts his head, watching you curiously, before his lips curve into the hint of a grin.

You feel yourself flush and look away.

“Hey, tell Seonghwa I did him a favor, okay?” You protest, turning your attention back to San and Yeosang, who lift their brows in response.

“Oh? And that was?” San queries, devious light flashing in his dark eyes.

You sniff and turn back to the TV, taking another gulp from your glass.

“We didn’t fuck in his kitchen.”

“Oh yuck. You’re disgusting. Get off me.” Yeosang gags in disgust and shoves you away from his side with an offended glower, even as San cackles delightedly beside him.

San’s still giggling to himself as he turns back to cuddle up against Wooyoung and Jisung, and Yeosang just heaves a heavy sigh, like he’s a disappointed mother finding out her kid tried weed for the first time.

You cross your arms over your chest and try to pay attention to the movie, but your gaze drifts once more over San’s head, to the best friends curled up on the far couch together, Changbin’s arm looped loosely around Chan’s shoulders as he leans in to look at the phone, and warmth stirs in your stomach as you bite back a smile.

‘Two pretty best friends in a room-’

‘They might kiss-’

They already did.

********************************************************************************

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