#this one means a lot to me i surely hope it appears in the tags bc if not i will cry

[awearywritersworld]

i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unraveled 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A curious man wanders into your dress shop with a lot of questions.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (Cavill)

Note: thanks for waiting on this one.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The carriage stops outside a brick building. A walk-up in Marleybone, just along Upper Baker Street. An address you couldn’t even dream of living near, let alone within. You peer up at the facade, the orange brick unstained by the coal and smoke of the backstreets. 

Gavin appears to open the door and sets a step down before you can emerge. He offers his hand gallantly and you let him assist you down to the road. You thank him as you peer up at the arched front door of 221b. 

“You need only knock, miss,” Gavin goes to pat the horse’s haunch as it kicks. “Ask for Mr. Holmes, he is expecting you.” 

You grip your bag tight and set your chin. You might not belong but only you are troubled by it. You climb the steps alongside the iron rail and lift the heavy knocker mounted on the thick wooden door. It’s clang rattles even you. 

You wait, both hands on the handles of the bag. Gavin appears behind you with the rolls of fabric, breathless as he struggles to keep them from touching the ground. You return your attention to the door as it opens. 

“Hello, I’m looking for Mr.--” 

“Holmes,” the very man you’re seeking stands before you, “forgive me, my housekeeper... resigned.” 

“Not to worry, sir,” you assure him. 

“Come in,” he backs up, gesturing you within with his large hand. “And how was your journey? I hope you didn’t come upon any scoundrels.” 

“Only upon her destination, sir,” Gavin japes as he steps in behind you. 

“Eh,” Holmes tilts his head at the driver, “allow me.” 

Holmes takes the rolls of fabric from Gavin. He hugs them effortlessly in on arm as he faces you again, dismissing the driver with no more than a nod. You stand rigidly by the wall, hesitant to go any further. The door closes and the click makes you flinch. 

“Allow me to show you around,” Holmes offers, looming in the tight space of the entryway. 

“I need only see your sister,” you insist. 

“Ah, yes, Enola, you will, but it only polite to get you acquainted with the space,” he rebuffs. 

“With respect, sir, I’ve come out of my way and without warning to this appointment. More work does await me at my shop,” you squeeze the leather handles until they squeak, “it is a lovely home, I’m sure, but I’ve come upon business, haven’t I?” 

“Yes, but it wouldn’t take very long,” he counters, “yet, if you’d rather keep this formal, by all means, I will take you to my sister.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

You bite down, wondering if perhaps you were more curt than you should be. The apartment is rather far from your neighbourhood and the travel time alone will impose upon your ongoing commissions. You don’t expect he considered that. He does seem the type to command rather than ask. 

He directs you to the stairs, just across from the door, and waves you onward. He follows as your skirts brush the top of your boots with each step. The wallpaper is tightly decorated with framed newspapers and portraits, cluttered together but not garishly so. 

You get to the top and he advises you to go left. You obey as he keeps pace. 

“Did you... discover what led to that woman’s fate? Or who she was?” You ask as you take measured steps. 

He isn’t demure as he walks next to you, crowded against you as his broad figure allows for little space, “sadly, yes and no. Not her name. Only that she was a factory woman. I won’t say much on the matter as it is ongoing and confidentiality is a part of my contract, I would only gird you to keep your doors locked and yourself alert.” 

You chew on his answer. It makes you nervous. You know the woman was found close to your shop and home. The news has been whispered for blocks. 

“I will be sure to hede your advice,” you say. 

You walk past a door as he stops to knock on it. You spin back, skirts swirling around you, and he glances at you as he plants his hand on the door frame. There is activity from within, scratching and creaking. He sighs and stands straight as he slides his hand down the pillar. He raps with his knuckles again. 

“Enola,” he booms through, his voice shaking you. “I told you to be ready.” 

You hear furious footsteps and the lock flicks back with similar furor. It opens and a young woman with a slumping bun greets Mr. Holmes. Strands fall loose from the clip and her blouse is half untucked as her sleeves are rolled to her elbows. She has a long oval face, flushed as she shows her teeth. 

“I told you, I’m busy--” 

“Not so busy that you would waste this good woman’s time,” Holmes insists, “she traveled all this way. We discussed this.” 

She flutters her lashes and huffs. Her eyes flit over to you and she softens her expression, “if her time is wasted, it is hardly my fault.” 

“Hm,” he hums flatly, “isn’t it? It wasn’t I who fed your dresses to the furnace.” 

She smiles, a smug look that pinches her cheeks, “I was cold.” 

“Sister,” he warns dangerously, crossing his arms, his breadth wider than ever. 

“You know what, I welcome her company. Much preferable to your own,” the woman sneers and turns her shoulder to her brother, “come on, then. Suppose I need a dress for the banquet.” 

You inch forward. A flare of resent burns in you at the position Mr. Holmes has put you in. Plainly, this appointment was not upon his sister’s behest. She holds the door for you and her brother exhales deeply. 

“All you need do is stand still, I’m certain you can handle that, sister,” he rebukes, “do let me know when you are finished and I will call the carriage.” 

“Thank you,” you utter without looking at him. He sets the rolls just inside the door and backs up to watch you. 

You enter the bedroom and find it cluttered and cramped. There are books in stacks with more littered around the bottom. A dried-up paint palette and an easel draped over with several jackets and unpaired stockings. There is a four-post bed with scrambled covers and a canopy twisted around the poles. Vials upon vials line shelves and an inkwell stands uncapped over untidy sheets of paper. 

“Very well,” the woman shuts the door, “I am Enola, the famous detective’s ne’er do well sister and you are the seamstress who will make me a peacock.” 

You stare at her and swallow tightly. You offer your name before you begin, “I’ve only come upon his request--” 

“Ah, yes, I’m certain you have. He’s still trying to make a lady of me. I see through his guise, though he doesn’t think it. He underestimates me, see. He lies but I will go along for I will more easily avoid his snare if I do.” 

You nod and narrow your eyes. The wealthy can always afford to be so eccentric. You don’t think any woman you know would view a new dress as such a curse. She is young, she cannot know. 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll only take your measurements,” you offer, “I can always fit upon the dress form.” 

“Do what you must,” she sighs, “shall I strip down?” 

You put your bag on a chair as she unbuttons her blouse, “not-- if you--” You look up at her as she reveals a corset and reaches to undo her skirt. You focus on your bag and scoop out your measuring tape. 

You approach her as her skirt heaps at her feet. She is tall, her legs on long, her figure lithe. You begin your work silently. She raises her arms as you request and puts them back down. 

“Suppose if I wasn’t here, I might’ve become a dressmaker. I always enjoyed stitching,” she muses as you scribble down each number, “it seems lonely work. Quiet work.” 

“It’s work,” you say as you take out the envelope and unfold the page to examine the dress again. You hold it up and glance past it at Enola. 

“May I see that?” She asks but doesn’t await an answer before she snatches the paper. “Oh, is this really what he chose? No, no, no, this won’t do. I want my shoulders covered.” 

You slip the envelope back in your bag, “it is only what I was given. If you prefer adjustments, it is your dress.” 

“Yes, my dress and my body,” she crumples the paper and tosses it onto the rug. 

You close up your notebook and go to the rolls of fabric, “would it be too much for me to do some piecework?” 

“If you insist,” she pouts. 

You take out your scissors and turn your back to her. She isn’t rude, per se, but you’re not in the habit of associating with this sort of clientele. You get numbers on a sheet and you sew. A living form is not quite your forte. 

-🪡

When you finish, you can sense Enola’s agitated impatience. You don’t blame her. It’s plain she didn’t want the dress or your visit. It is more so upon the shoulders of her brother. Mr. Holmes. You’re similarly irked that he would put you in this position. 

Enola is already fiddling with some instrument before you can go. You emerge and pull the door shut after you. You stand in the hallway, bag at the crook of your elbow as you hug the fabric. You move with hampered steps towards the stairs. As the top creaks beneath your weight, your name is called from further down the hallway. 

“Ah, are you set then?” Mr. Holmes asks as he stops just outside a door, “I was thinking, to make up for your efforts, you might want to stay for tea.” 

You look down at your armful and back to him, “that’s very generous, but--” 

“I believe I paid an adequate fee for the appointment,” he strides slowly towards you, “but I am open to a barter if it was not sufficient.” 

You feel the heavy sovereign tucked into your jacket. You crook your lips and raise your chin, “no sir, it will do for today and the making of the dress. The fabric... I don’t have any as rich as the style requested.” 

“Another service I may require of you. If you wouldn’t mind to select the material, I would be happy to reimburse the expense.” 

“Would there be a colour? A fabric preferred? Velvet? Satin? Chiffon?” You prompt, “I solely work in cotton and wool, as I forewarned.” 

“Perhaps we might find a fabric seller at Covent Garden? You could accompany me on my next sojourn--” 

“I don’t know if I would have the time. I could write down some fabrics which would suit the silhouette we agreed upon,” you offer. 

“Mmm,” he hums, “you are rather professional. How about tea, then? Melinda from across the road sent some mutton over.” 

“The hour should see me back to my shop,” you shift your bag. 

“You are fastidious,” he stops before you and puts a hand on the fabric, “please, allow me, you are overburdened.” 

“I’m--” 

You can’t argue as he takes the fabric from you. You let him have it if only to avoid disaster you lean back on your heel. He angles the rolls under his arm easily and grins. A curl strays down his forehead. 

“I suppose you are right, given recent events, it would be best to see you home before the evening sets,” he says, “I would gladly see you home safe, miss.” 

He is overly polite, or perhaps you aren’t used to it. It is his home, he supplied the carriage, and he has paid generously. It makes each denial feel trite. 

“If you must, but I would be just fine on my own comportment,” you accept. 

“It isn’t any fuss, I will fetch a jacket and the driver,” he extends his arm past you, “after you.” 

You spin on your heel and face the staircase. You descend with your hand on the railing. As you come to the bottom, you wander towards the entry way and take in the fineness of the decor. Is much more becoming than your slanted rooms. 

Mr. Holmes places the rolls just beside the door and takes a jacket from the rack. He pulls it on and tells you to wait before he disappears outside. You linger as you are, sliding your bag down to your hands. 

When he returns, he reaches within to retrieve the fabric first. “Gavin is bringing up the carriage,” he declares and offers his free arm, “shall we?” 

You consider him. You wouldn’t want to be unkind. You step through the door, pulling it shut as you accept his bent arm, your hand in the crook. He accompanies you down the narrow steps, each step crowded by his. 

Gavin appears in the driver’s seat and reins the horse to a halt. The beast looks miserable. Mr. Holmes escorts you to the door and releases you to open it. He helps you with a strong hand and you sit within with your bag on your lap. He shoves the fabric in ahead of him, his head bowed as he fits through the small door. 

He closes it with a snap and settles on the bench on the other side of you. You stare across at the cotton, expecting he’d have taken that seat instead. His leg is on your skirt. 

You keep your hands on your bag. He knocks on the ceiling and the carriage rumbles into motion. You rock with it along the street, silent as you wring the leather handles. 

“I hope my sister did not cause too much stress. I know she can be a lot but she’s old enough now. She should start behaving as a lady,” he spreads a large hand across his thigh. “Perhaps, once she finds a husband, that will be easier.” 

You nod, uncertain of a proper response. 

“Not to mean... I don’t mean to assume, I am known however for my observations, and I have concluded you are not married,” he continues, “I gather if it were the case, you might not have a shop to sew in.” 

“Suppose not,” you reply dully. 

“It is only to say that my opinion of my sister isn’t general. A woman such as yourself is admirable.” 

“A spinster?” You supply. 

“I didn’t--” 

“I’ve chosen not to marry, that is true. I am not bothered by that fact,” you say, “isn’t that what you deal in, detective, facts?” 

“Fair,” he shifts on the bench, “but not everyone can detach emotion from facts.” 

“And why should I be emotional about that fact? I am much more happier than any woman could be with a husband,” you stare at the opposite wall of the carriage. “And I will assume, sir, as I am no detective, that you have neither taken to the altar.” 

He curls the fingers on his left hand, “I have not.” 

“And I’m certain you enjoy your bachelor lifestyle in your grand apartment,” you return, “while my own is not so extravagant, I find solace in it. On that, I think you might understand me.” 

He takes a breath and lets it out with a thoughtful hum, “I suppose we are similar in some way.” 

#sherlock holmes #dark sherlock holmes #dark!sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #unraveled #enola holmes #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

[ddejavvu]

Movie Stars - Eddie Munson x Reader

WC: 5K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Distracting Jason Carver means a lot of flirting, and Eddie isn't too happy about seeing his best friend hanging off of the star basketball player. Jealousy ensues, but will it ruin your friendship?

Contents/Warnings: Jealous!Eddie, arguments, silent treatment, Eddie is angry for a bit, fluff, angst, angst to fluff, fluffy ending, tooth rotting fluff, best friends to lovers

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

"Fuck," Eddie hisses, telltale sound of Jason Carver's booming voice bidding goodbye to his friends already starting down the hallway, "He's coming!"

Eddie hasn't finished the note he's scribbling yet, the prank being your idea after Jason dumped a carton of milk over Eddie's van just the day prior. Sitting out in the hot sun, his van reeked.

The note says something along the lines of 'Meet me under the bleachers tonight at midnight ;)', and Eddie takes care to use his fanciest calligraphy handwriting to make it seem adoring. You know Jason will fall hook, line, and sinker for the secret admirer gag, because his ego is through the roof and he's desperate for a girlfriend.

Your plan will land Jason shivering under the bleachers tonight, sprawled out over the dewy grass before he finally realizes no one's coming. You're hoping he ends up too tired for the game tomorrow night, and without their star player, the Hawkins High basketball team won't stand a chance.

You can hear the squeak of Jason's sneakers on the linoleum, thinking quick and dashing down the hallway.

"Hurry!" You hiss to Eddie, patting him on the shoulder hastily and nearly rocketing into the basketball star as you round the corner.

"Woah!" He steadies you, but looks rather unimpressed when he recognizes you, "What do you want, Y/L/N?"

"I- I was wondering if I could talk to you," You dip your head down slightly, making your eyes appear shinier as your lashes flutter prettily.

"About?"

"About," You drag the word out, sidestepping so that he can't duck around you, "Your game tomorrow! I'm really excited to see you play."

Jason's brow furrows, "You're coming?"

"Of course!" You keep your voice light and airy, a lovesick lilt to it that hurts to enforce, "I love watching you play."

"I thought you were Munson's girl," Jason narrows his eyes accusatorily at you, "Why aren't'cha hangin' with the freak?"

"We're just friends," Saying that is more painful than anything you've had to spew at Jason so far, but you try not to dwell on your underlying feelings for your best friend, "I.. I think you're really cool, Jason."

You almost puke. Inflating Jason's ego is easier than it looks, but it's sickening to watch him puff up with pride, a sick smirk sliding over his slimy face.

"Finally comin' around," He drawls, reaching a bold arm around your waist to drag you close to him. You stumble backwards slightly, your form now visible from the hallway, but not his. All that's visible from Eddie's position is you, Jason's arm around your waist and your hands pressing against what he's sure is Jason's chest to steady you.

"Oh!' You let out a surprised squeak, seeing Eddie's mane of brown hair bob down the hallway as he sprints for the exit, "Um, I'm sorry Jason, but I've gotta go!"

"But I thought-"

"See you tomorrow for the big game," You smile placatingly at him from against his chest, patting it softly as you untangle yourself, "I'm sure you'll play great!"

You're off and running before he could chase you, and you ignore his confused calls of your name. You follow where Eddie had gone, slipping out of the hallway doors and squinting when the sun hurt your eyes.

You spot Eddie no problem, your best friend stalking towards his van in the parking lot. A bright grin spreads over your face as you sprint towards him, knocking into his shoulder lightly as you join him.

"It worked!" You let out a celebratory cheer, an incredulous laugh lacing your words, "I didn't think-"

"Stop." Eddie snaps, pushing you gently away from where you'd been butting against his side.

"I.." You flounder for something to say, "I'm sorry, Eddie, did I hurt you, or-"

"I'm fine." Eddie refuses to meet your eye, his voice still cold and stretched thin, "I gotta go."

"So do I," You giggle carefully, "You wanna watch a movie or something?" You finally get a good look at his face and his eyes are raging, something that makes your chest tight. His jaw is tight and you long to brush a finger over it, easing its tension. But you don't.

You reach his van and tug expectantly at the handle but he brushes your hand away, ducking into the driver's seat, "No, Y/N, I have to go. Not you. I can't give you a ride today."

"Oh." You feel your stomach shift uncomfortably, a strange sinking feeling in its pit, "I thought.. but- but everyday, you-"

"Not today." He simply states, checking his mirrors to avoid your eye, "Bye."

"Bye," You hardly manage to answer, stepping back as his van roars to life. You watch him peel out of the parking lot with tears stinging at your eyes, then you hear the door open behind you.

"Y/N?" It's Jason's voice, and it grates irritatingly at your ears, "Who you waiting for?"

"No one." You mumble quietly, the realization saddening you, "I.. I've gotta go."

"Lemme give you a ride." He offers, and you expect a sleazy smirk on his face when you turn. Instead it's a soft furrow of his brow, concern etched into his annoying features.

"It's okay," You shake your head, "I.. I should just walk."

"You live, like, ten minutes from here, by car." Jason scoffs, "Come on, Y/N."

"No," You insist, "Really, it's fine. Thank you for the offer, Jason." You step back when he starts for you, frustration taking over his face, "I'll enjoy walking."

"Whatever." Jason rolls his eyes, "Y'know, I was trying to be nice to you. 'Thought you were all over me a few minutes ago."

"Just go," You grit your teeth, already starting down the street for home, "'See you tomorrow, I guess."

You hear him mumble something under his breath, and it sounds suspiciously like, 'not sure if I want to.' But you don't care, because you don't want to see him either, and he takes off in his car only a minute later, leaving you in the dust to walk alone.

For convenience's sake, you probably should have let him drive you. But you'd rather eat mud than let Jason Carver drive you home, giving him your address and ten minutes alone with you in an enclosed space.

When you finally make it home almost an hour later, your feet are killing you. You'd never realized how far you actually lived from the school, ten minutes in Eddie's van while he talked your ear off and blasted music seeming like mere seconds, over too soon.

Worry spikes in your chest at the reminder of Eddie's foul mood earlier. Did someone say something to him outside? Did he get caught by a teacher? Did he have detention?

Then you remember his eagerness to leave. Was he in trouble? Did he get hurt? Was there an emergency?

Against your body's desperate pleas for rest, you reluctantly keep your shoes on, tossing your backpack onto the couch. You'll get an earful from your parents later about the dirty bag on their clean furniture, but Eddie is more important than a lecture, and you set out again.

The sun is beating down on you as you trek to the trailer park, and it takes you even longer to get there than it had to get home. You're sluggish and sweaty when you finally traipse up the stairs to Eddie's trailer, knocking sharply on the door.

"Eddie?" You call, peering in a window to see the lights in his room on, "Eddie, open up!"

No reply. You shift on your feet, the soles of them aching, "Eddie, it's hotter than balls out here! Please just let me in!"

You hear light shuffling from behind the door, then a lock clicks, and Eddie stands unimpressed in front of you, the door swung open.

"What do you need?" He glares at you, his rotten behavior a complete 180 from his usual bubbly disposition. He gets a good look at your flushed, sweaty face, "Jesus, did you come from hell?"

"Almost," You grimace at the reminder of nearly being in Jason Carver's car, "Let me in."

You move to brush past Eddie but he sidesteps you, keeping you on the porch. Your lips part indignantly, "Eddie!"

"You can't come in." He grumbles, his brows low over his eyes, "Just go home, Y/N."

"I just walked here for an hour," You seethe, "And I did it because I was worried about you. Let me in, dickhead."

He scoffs unimpressed at you, and your heart stings. It's not the first time he's been cross with you, but it's the first time you don't know what you've done, and it hurts to know that he's being this cold.

He finally steps out of the way, and you head instantly for the kitchen. You rummage through a few plastic cups, pulling out your favorite one and filling it with water. While you're chugging it Eddie sits atop the counter, watching you warily.

"So fuckin' messy," He chides, his voice still sharp, "Get over here."

He swipes a thumb over your cheek, smearing away a droplet of water that you'd managed to spill. His touch feels amazing, which is scary because you've only been deprived of it for a few hours, but he pulls away far too soon and crosses his arms over his chest.

"So?" He raises a brow at you, "What do you need?"

"I need to know what's wrong with you," You soften your voice, staring up at him imploringly where he's perched on the counter, "I.. I don't know what happened, but I know something's wrong. And I hate it when you're angry at me, but now I don't even know what I did, and-" Your voice teeters on the edge of cracking, and you rein yourself in with a deep, steady inhale, "I don't know what to do. I don't like this."

You feel hot tears brim in your eyes, and you blink rapidly to try and dissolve them. You're embarrassed, and you're not sure if it's for doing whatever you did, for not knowing what you did, or for crying. You feel pathetic, and you look away from Eddie miserably.

You can't see it, but his teeth dig gently into his bottom lip. He's never made you cry before. Tears sting at his own eyes, a warning of what's to come if he keeps brushing you off, and his hand shakes as he reaches it towards you.

"Y/N.." He breathes carefully, ghosting a hand over your shoulder. You flinch away from the contact and he can pinpoint that as the exact second his heart breaks, biting his tongue to keep himself from crying.

"You.. you don't get to touch me," You whisper, a broken sound as your arms wrap around yourself in a semi-comforting hug, "Not yet. Not until this is over. What did I do, Eddie, why are you treating me like this?"

This time it's Eddie feeling the absence of your comforting touch, itching to yank you into a bear hug and suffocate you until you're not angry with him anymore. Having something taken away is much different than being the taker, Eddie finds out, and he curls his fingers around the counter to prevent himself from crossing your boundaries and smothering you with apologies.

"I was upset.." The past tense refers to only seconds before, still mad when you'd shown up. But your tears had simply eradicated his jealousy, the shining trails down your cheeks stabbing at his chest.

It's a shitty explanation and he knows it. He watches your face screw up, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as your lips purse to withhold a sob.

"I.." He continues, desperate to comfort you but unable to, knowing the words that were about to escape him were meaningless against your tears, "I got jealous, sweetheart."

"Jealous?" You query brokenly, your voice thick with sadness, "Of who?"

"Of Jason," He admits bravely, putting himself out of his comfort zone to pull you back into your own, "You were.. you were really layin' it on thick, baby."

The pet names don't instill the same comfort they normally do in you, but they do assure you that Eddie can't be too mad at you. You sniffle miserably, glancing up at him through tears, "So? 'Was just for some stupid prank." You rub at your nose with your sleeve, "Why did that make you jealous?"

"Cause it sounded right." Eddie sighs, rubbing a hand over his tired expression, "It.. it looked right, too. I mean, it looked wrong, you and him. But his arm looked.. natural around your waist. And your hands were all over his chest," He groans, "It just seemed real."

You're skeptical now, squinting up at him suspiciously, still through a layer of unshed tears, "So? What are you trying to say, Eddie?"

Eddie lets out a strangled, frustrated groan, hopping down from the counter, "I'm saying I want my arm around your waist!"

You've got the same unwavering, confused look on your face, and Eddie's not bothered to admit to himself that he wants to kiss it off of you. But he doesn't want to scare you, so he backs against the counter instead, "I like you, Y/N."

"I should fucking hope so." You mumble, "'Been best friends for years."

"No, I- hnggh," He nearly laughs, your obliviousness comically intense, "Y/N, I'm in love with you."

Now that, you understand.

His confession hits you like a ton of bricks, and you stand frozen, dumbfounded in his cramped kitchen. He had never confessed to you in the first place out of a fear of rejection, and now every second that you stay silent he feels the crack in his heart slowly tear apart.

Finally, finally you speak, mumbling an abrupt, "Oh."

"Oh?" He repeats fearfully, "What does 'oh' mean?"

"Oh."

"Come on baby," He jests weakly, "'Gotta give me a little more than that."

"You.." Your brows dip adorably into a furrow, "You like me?"

"I do." He nods once, "Is that... is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Your shoulders relax from where they'd been stiff by your ears, and Eddie swears he can feel every ounce of tension leaking from his body, "I like you too, Eddie."

You say it so casually, and it's the answer Eddie had been hoping for, but the relief that rushes through him at your admission is heavenly. He wonders if you really know just how much it meant to him, the five simple words that you're changing his life with.

"You.. you do?" He asks, hesitant to get ahead of himself in case this was a bizarre, torturous dream that would shatter him when he woke up, "'Cause you don't have to lie to me, baby. If you don't, it's okay, I won't-"

"Shh," You step forwards, placing a finger over his lips and gazing into his eyes. He swears he's dreaming when you drag the finger from his lips over his chin, up his jaw, and settle it into his hairline as your other hand comes up to join the first one on his free cheek.

You're cupping his cheeks. You're cupping his cheeks, Eddie can feel his heart racing as you stare at him, your gaze dreamy.

"I'm not lying." You insist, "Of course I like you. How could I not? You've got these pretty brown eyes," You muse softly, your thumbs ghosting over the soft skin beneath them, "And your nose is so nice," You run a finger down it affectionately, then lean in to pop a kiss to its tip, “‘S good for kissin’.” He feels his heart explode, then your finger immediately goes back to his cheek, "And.. and you've got really nice lips."

To prove your final point your fingers dance over them, the soft pillowy pads dipping slightly under the pressure you apply. Eddie feels like he's dreaming, caught up in some heavenly universe that he could get sucked out of any second, and he tries desperately to commit the feeling of you admiring him to memory before it slips away.

"I want to kiss you," You confess, your fingers pressing softly against his lips, "Can I?"

'Course you can," He breathes incredulously, his lips puckering to press gently into the pads of your fingertips. It's intimate, love bleeding through the gesture.

You only remove your hands to fulfil your promise, pressing your lips to his own in a careful, delicate kiss. It's soft, sweet, and dizzying, only lasting for a few seconds before you both pull away. Your head is fuzzy, and it leaks into your heart. He's looking at you like you hung the moon, his big doe eyes shining with adoration as they flit over your face.

He can't believe this is real. He can't fathom that he's just kissed you, that you've just kissed him, that you two have kissed.

He’s not sure how many nights he’s fallen asleep thinking about you. He tends to fantasize, though it’s a word he’ll never use for fear of embarrassment, about you. It's easier to fall asleep when someone else is there, and it's the easiest thing in the world when it's you. Most nights feature different fantasies, scenes in time from the preview of a movie he hopes is starting now.

Some nights he imagines what it would be like to teach you to play the guitar. You’ve strummed his mindlessly a few times, but he drifts off thinking about how adorable you’d be with his guitar in your lap, your fingers running cautiously over the strings as he compliments how metal you’re becoming.

Other nights you’re going grocery shopping with him in his daydreams. You lead him down the aisle, your fingers eagerly stretched towards a package of Oreos, and he gives in only if you promise to let him kiss the cream off of you after you’ve had a few.

The there’s the less common, but still precious, vacation fantasy. He supposes he doesn’t think about this one as often because he’s content where he is, as long as you’re there too. Still, sometimes it’s nice to imagine a ski lodge with you, snowflakes dotting your eyelashes and frosty air nipping at your nose. He’d make you hot chocolate, extra whipped cream and marshmallows, then he’d let you fall asleep on his shoulder before a roaring fire.

But this, you gently pressing your silky soft lips to his own slightly chapped ones in the dinky little kitchen of his trailer after confessing your love to him? He’s going to rewatch this scene every night for the rest of his life.

He doesn't think he looks much like a movie star. Maybe the star of an action movie, a rugged adventurer. But never a romance. Romances aren't made with guys like him, guys who have messy hair down their back and tattoos littering their chest. Romances are made for proper couples, couples that live in a three bedroom home, two kids inside and another on its way, dog and a picket fence. Couples that host backyard barbecues, that go to the lake on sundays, that buy their kids barbie dolls and monster trucks.

Not him.

You, though? You were made to be a star. Your pretty face, your sweet eyes and your soft lips. You're the pinnacle of romance, and it feels foreign to Eddie that he isn't an audience member anymore, instead the lead actor.

Eddie doesn't know what he's done to land the starring role in your romance, but he swears right then and there that he'll never botch the job.

"You taste good." You absentmindedly ghost your tongue over your lips, saliva now glistening on them as you contemplate, "You're sweet."

Eddie is absolutely certain you're wrong. He probably tastes like smoke, sweat, and the trail mix he'd had for lunch, which he assumes isn't a very appealing combination. But you lean in again with no hesitation, pressing your slightly dampened lips to his own.

This time, he lets himself react. Before he'd been frozen in terror, sure that any sudden movement would spook you and you'd flee. But now? Now he dives in.

He brings his hands to cup your cheeks, tilting your face slightly so that his nose doesn't run into your own. He'll admit, rubbing noses with you is one of his favorite things, or, used to be, before he kissed you for the first time, because it was just about the closest he could get without actually kissing you. He was always able to pass it off as a friendly gesture of affection, scrunching his face up into a smile and brushing his nose against your own. But now the gently brush of skin on skin is nothing compared to your lips on his.

His tongue longs to roll into your mouth, but he doesn't want to take things too far, not yet. He wants to savor this, he wants to feel every step of the process, cherish it before it gets too hot and heavy. Right now, he wants to kiss you, nothing more.

He brushes his tongue softly over your bottom lip to satiate his urges. It draws a soft whimper out of your mouth, a sound that, in any other circumstances would go straight south. But it warms his heart this time, hearing how much you're enjoying finally kissing him.

Though this kiss lasts longer than the last, it's still short. He really does want to take things slow, and he breaks away to rest his forehead against yours.

He can't help the grin that grows over his lips. He feels a similar one stretch your cheeks, his hands still cupping the slight pudge there. He's squealing inside, reduced to a giggling schoolgirl stomping his feet and doodling your names together inside of an arrow-struck heart. But he keeps himself relatively cool on the outside, feeling you press yourself tighter against him.

"Did I.. was that good? For you?" You question hesitantly, and his eyes drift open to meet your own only centimeters away. He realizes that you're insecure, that your eyes are wide with anxiety and that you're stiff in his grip.

Something is flattering about that. You'd just kissed him dizzy, reduced him to a blushing mess, and still you were worried about his enjoyment.

"That was.. perfect." He breathes, tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, the familiar gesture skyrocketing in intensity, "I've been dreaming about that, baby."

"Dreaming? About me?" Your eyes shine, and Eddie promises to himself that the next time you close them, he'll kiss the lids. He wants to kiss every pretty part of you, from head to toe.

"About you," He confirms, "You're the star of all my dreams, sweetheart."

You giggle at that. He sees the tension drain from your frame, anxiety about not being good enough, and he watches you embrace your new role as lead actress.

"I've dreamt about you before too." You admit, raising one hand to press against one of his on your cheek, "We took your van to space, it turned into a rocket."

He lets out an amused laugh at your nonsensical dreams, not sure how to correct you that his were more on the domestic side.

"A rocket? That's cool." He murmurs, refraining from speaking too loud lest he shatters the silent intimacy you've created in the kitchen of his trailer.

"Eddie?" You hum softly, twisting one of his rings mindlessly around his fingers with your eyes downcast, "What are we now?"

He feels himself sucked out of his role. He swallows dryly, realizing that there was still a chance you might not want to be his costar.

"Well," He starts, his voice much more confident than he is, "Would you like to date me, sweetheart? I could be your boyfriend, if you want."

Then a blinding smile breaks over your face, and he's not worried anymore.

"I want you to be my boyfriend," You nod eagerly, now bouncing on the balls of your feet on the tile, "You mean it, Eddie?"

"'Course I mean it," He urges, "I'll give you my jacket when you're cold, and I'll catch you when you jump into my arms to say hello, and I'll lend you my shirts to wear for bedtime."

"You already do all of that stuff," Your nose wrinkles slightly in confusion, "I'm wearing your shirt right now."

He glances down at your torso, and hooks a finger under the hem of your jacket to reveal an old Iron Maiden shirt he'd let you borrow. He feels sheepish as he realizes he's already been pseudo-dating you for years, and picks out the one thing he's missed.

"Well then I'll kiss you," He promises, "All the time."

"All the time?"

"All the time." He threatens, his eyes growing wide as his hands clamp onto your hips, "You won't ever escape."

"Eddie!" You shriek as you make a run for it, giggling relentlessly as you sprint through his trailer and into his bedroom. He races after you, catching you before you can beeline for the closet and catapulting you onto his mattress. You land with a hearty bounce, and Eddie hovers over you before your back hits the bed again.

"Come here," He growls teasingly, his curls spread over your face as he digs his nose into your neck. His lips form rapidfire kisses on your skin, drawing hearty laughter from your chest that he hopes is part of the soundtrack for your movie, because he wants to listen to it on repeat. He presses his lips tight to your jaw, blowing a sloppy raspberry there and tightening his hold on your hips when you try squirming away.

"Eddie!" You finally manage to catch his face in your hands, tugging it away from where he's smothering it into your cheek, "Eddie, that tickles!"

You're breathless, your chest heaving with laughter, and Eddie takes pride in being able to do that to you. He makes you laugh. He makes you smile. He makes you happy.

You're staring up at him with a lovesick grin on your face that he's sure is displayed over his mouth too. So he connects them, bending his elbows to kiss you for real.

Despite your somewhat suggestive position, he keeps his hands to himself. They're holding your hips, content in their positioning as he lays another sweet kiss to your lips. This time when he breaks away he collapses beside you, keeping one leg thrown over yours. His hair fans out over the pillow and tickles your face, and your nose scrunches as you splutter.

“Sorry,” He’s really not, because getting to see your face all bunched up as his hair tickled your nose was priceless, but he lies.

“‘S okay,” You grab one of the strands you’d just spit out of your mouth, twisting the end of it around your finger, “And your hair! I like your hair too.”

Eddie’s heart explodes as he realizes you’re adding onto his list of likable qualities from before.

"Oh yeah? Well," He decides to return the favor, slipping his arm underneath yours that's still toying with his hair, "I like your nose."

He leans in to press his lips to it, "Yours is good for kissing too."

You giggle under him, a light, airy sound that sends his tummy turning.

"And your eyes," He runs a thumb through your lashes and they flutter beneath his touch, "'Can see aaaall that love you've got in there for me."

He realizes too late that it's a step you haven't taken yet as lovers. Sure, you've told him that you love him plenty of times, and he has too. But now it's different, now it's more.

But, he realizes, as your eyes shine with adoration, your lips moving to echo his sentiment, it's not more. It's the same as he's always felt about you, suffocating, intoxicating, all-consuming. He's loved you like this forever.

He grins as you tell him you love him without hesitation. He feels like the luckiest man in the world as he settles down beside you, your eyes following his as your lovesick grin becomes permanent. He's not sure if his own will ever fade, not as long as he's got you by his side. Just like you are now, tucked neatly into his chest, the collar of your jacket riding up to cover your jaw. He tugs it down and presses a kiss to the jut of your chin, then leaves his face there nestled into your own. He feels your own lips pucker to stain his skin with a soft peck, tightening his hold around your waist as he keeps you close to him in his bed.

"Y'sleepy?" You drag a single finger through his hair, letting your nail ghost over his scalp. He nearly purrs, reduced to a clingy kitten amidst the tsunami of love that had just washed over you both.

"Just happy." He hums. The droop of his eyelids is drawn from contentedness rather than exhaustion, the haze taking over his brain comes from the steady scent of you that he's breathing in while his face is nuzzled against your own.

"Me too," You admit, "Can we just stay here for a while?"

"Baby," He chuckles breathily against your face, seemingly unable to stop the onslaught of kisses that he's smothering you with, "We're never getting out of this bed again. I'm keeping you here forever."

tags: @spencestyles @lovinondylanobrien @th0rswh0res @hannyhoe @desireav @1800-fight-me

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson hc #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #eddie munson angst #stranger things x reader #stranger things

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

This is my first fic for Hazbin Hotel, so any feedback would be welcomed and deeply appreciated! (also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future work - I'm quite sure this'll be FAR from my last fic for this fandom hehe)

Hope you enjoy!

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Ever since he'd discovered glam metal, Angel has been blasting it nonstop from his room.

Unfortunately, his room happens to be directly beneath Alastor's... and the insulation in the hotel's walls leaves an awful lot to be desired. The Radio Demon's eye had been in a constant twitch for three days by the time he'd finally had enough.

"Alastor? Have you seen Angel's speakers?"

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When Charlie appears in his doorway, the demon in question is sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading a newspaper (though Charlie isn't sure how he acquired it - the local paper has been out of print for weeks).

"No. But I've certainly had the displeasure of hearing them."

"They've gone missing. Do you have any idea where they might be?"

"Far away, I hope."

Charlie rolls her eyes and leaves to go consult the other guests. The deer takes a long draw from his mug.

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To Alastor's slight irritation, he only enjoys a few minutes of peace before the princess' voice echoes from the hall again.

"Oooh, Al...." Charlie sings.

"What is it, my dear?" the Radio Demon sings back absently.

"Nifty says she saw you with Angel's speakers yesterday."

"Did she?" He flips a page of his newspaper.

"Look, all I need to know is where you put them."

Long pause. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Alastor."

"Whaaat?" Though his eyes haven't left the page, his grin has widened slightly. "You think I'm lying?"

"You're always lying. That's your thing."

"...Touché."

Charlie perches on the sofa beside him.

"Are you gonna tell me where it is or not?"

"Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."

She perks up.

"I would honestly die a second death before subjecting myself to one more note of that infernal garbage."

Alastor's eyes flick up from his paper for the briefest of seconds, just to watch the bubbly princess' face fall into a delightfully exasperated scowl.

"You can't steal someone's stuff just because it annoys you!"

"On the contrary. That's exactly what I did."

Charlie narrows her eyes. "Alastor. You tell me where Angel's speakers are or else."

Alastor chuckles in spite of himself - Charlie's attempts to be intimidating never fail to amuse him.

"What's so funny about that?"

"My dear, I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for your many talents: there's a reason I tend to be the one called upon to scare off demonic threats."

Charlie huffs and crosses her arms. "Just because you're creepier and... more sadistic than me, doesn't mean I don't have ways of making you talk."

"Oh?" Alastor arches a skeptical eyebrow at his paper.

"So you better watch your step, Mister."

"Hmm. You make a compelling case." He flips another page. "Maybe I should tell you where Angel's poor excuse for music is."

Charlie brightens. "Really?"

"No."

The princess deflates.

He's right, of course: even if Charlie figures out a way to make herself legitimately threatening to the Radio Demon... he's the fucking Radio Demon. She may be the Princess of Hell, but she doesn't want to have to rebuild the hotel from rubble all over again.

The two sit in impassive silence for a few minutes - Charlie glaring at Alastor, Alastor staring stubbornly at his paper - until she finally stifles a sigh and slouches against the cushions. He's enjoying this, she just knows it. Sitting there with that stupid grin. He's probably been laughing to himself all night, imagining poor Angel waking up and finding his most prized possession missing.

She finds herself wishing she could make the old deer laugh himself sick sometime, just to teach him a lesson.

...Which is a horrible thought! Charlie's eyes widen, her brow furrowing in self-disgust. She could never bring herself to hurt Alastor, even via laughter.

In fact, she quite likes his laugh - it's a little maniacal, sure, and certainly hard to truly enjoy amid the gory contexts that typically trigger it. But if she knew a way to make him laugh at something other than another person's expense, she'd probably do it all the time... it's just that the things that make him laugh also tend to make Charlie nauseous.

Once again, the princess finds herself completely baffled by her own subjects. How one could be so tickled by anything that goes on down here - the pain, the violence, the gore...

Charlie tilts her head. She may have just gotten an idea.

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

If Alastor had happened to cast a quick glance down the couch, the smile creeping across Charlie's face would've been enough to give him real pause.

But since he is instead stubbornly focused on his paper, he is completely unprepared for the fingers that suddenly begin crawling oh-so-gently up his side.

To her initial disappointment, Charlie finds at least three layers of fabric dampening her touch, and aside from a subtle flinch at first contact, Alastor himself remains perfectly still.

But then a low buzz of radio static swells around them. As she probes up his ribs, she can hear a soft crinkle of paper as his grip tightens.

"Charlie..." His voice is oddly clipped.

"Mm?" Charlie takes one glance at his face, and her smile deepens - even Alastor's signature grin can't mask the effect. He's still technically staring at the paper, but his eyes have gone wide and blank. He opens his mouth to continue just as her fingers reach his armpit - and his jaw quickly clamps shut. It's clearly taking everything in him not to squirm.

"Got something to say, Al?" She starts pinching back down his ribcage.

"Mmph!" The giggles start in his chest, bubbling up and fighting to escape through clenched teeth. Soon his shoulders are shaking with the effort of holding them in.

"...Maybe about the location of a certain object?"

No response. The radio demon just curls forward a little, hiding his face in his paper.

Taking advantage of this new posture, Charlie slips her other arm around behind him, and gives a good pinch to both sides of his slender waist.

The demon straightens right back up with an audible gasp and tiny squeak of surprise (that he quickly tries to cover with a cough).

"Charlie! Are you s-seriously trying to-"

"Are you seriously ticklish?"

"No!"

In response she delivers another series of pinches to the same spot. His posture crumples again, until finally he loses his grip on his paper and twists to face her.

"No?" she giggles. And squeezes him again.

"Stop that!" He fumbles at her fingers, trying to pry them off his sides.

Instead Charlie swaps her hands, wrapping her fingers around his waist with both thumbs resting lightly on his stomach... and begins digging them right under his lower ribs.

That finally does it. He flinches back with a little snort, followed by soft but utterly helpless giggles pressed shyly into his hands.

"Awww!" Charlie coos.

"Keheh- f-fuckin'- heheh! - quiet!" His voice cracks amusingly on the last word.

There are about fifteen different things Charlie is dying to say as Alastor goes to pieces with laughter, but she can't think of anything that wouldn't risk embarrassing the poor guy - and humiliating him is the last thing she wants to do. The fact that Alastor hasn't instantly dissolved into shadows (or cursed her across the room) hasn't been lost on the princess; she is NOT about to jeopardize this moment by making him uncomfortable enough to do so.

That said, she is conducting an interrogation here.

"What was that about not being ticklish?"

His clutching at her wrists becomes more frantic. "Don't-!"

Alastor hyperventilates a couple times, trying to get ahold of himself - but then she continues squeezing down the sides of his belly, and he can only collapse into even worse laughter.

"I think I know just how to get you to talk..."

"Nohoho- ahagh, Charlie! Shihihit!"

Charlie shifts onto her knees for better leverage, gives him a gentle push backward, and pins him (surprisingly easily) against the couch. Her snaggle-toothed grin looms over him...

For a split-second, Alastor gets a flash of what his victims must've seen moments before they debuted on his show.

But he's pretty sure this isn't quite how they felt about it. He's already shaking with anticipatory giggles, grinning back at her wider than ever. And the giddy panic behind his eyes quickly forms an unlikely union with defiance.

"Do your worst, my dear."

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

To be continued... pt. II is already in the works, so stay tuned!!

Until next time - hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕

💜 - Cozy

#lee!alastor #ticklish!alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel tickles #oh deer he's ticklish #ler!charlie #hazbin hotel tickling #ticklefic #tickle fic #tickle headcanons #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel spoilers

[fbfh]

Jacob Black x mate/imprint!reader first rut hcs

wc: 1.9k

genre: smut, tooth rotting fluff, werewolf heat/monsterfucking ig

pairing: Jacob x imprint!reader (afab, no pronouns)

warnings: general werewolfy stuff, awkward heat/rut talks, BIGASS breeding king, Jake can smell when you're ovulating, Jake is posessive and clingy and adorable and hot, knots, oral (reader recieving), face down ass up position, biting and hickeys, scenting, a ton of creampies, cum plugging, growling/primal kink??, aftercare

summary: Jacob is the best boyfriend you've ever had, so when he tells you there's a little problem he's going to need help with soon, you're more than happy to help him out with it

a/n: starting to write my first actual original book today and I am so stoaked!!!!!! wish me luck uwu I think yall are really really gonna like it and I'm super excited ksflkjslkjs

also I'm adding people who asked to be tagged for a/b/o and omegaverse content bc it's in the same ballpark imo

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280 @yelenabel0vaswife @lizziebitch33  @sunshineangel-reads @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @demirunner @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomfortss @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @urmum-xoxo @raajali3 @Ronnasey @lubsana @demirunner @legramilis  @girlfriendwhoseawitch

As with all nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+

That being said, let’s get into it 

Bc oh BOY is this one a doozy

You and Jake fell in love at first sight

You met by chance

He helped you when you had car trouble and the chemistry was instant and the rest was history

What actually happened is that Jake could smell you from like a full mile away

He was so drawn to you

Then he could smell you starting to panic, and he knew he had to make sure you were okay

So he appeared out of nowhere in his human form right when you needed him most

You were so relieved that someone was there to help you, especially someone so good with cars

And especially especially someone so hot and friendly and charismatic and attentive

From jump street, Jake obviously liked you a lot

So you couldn’t turn down his offers to get coffee and lunch and show you around town

He was relieved you didn’t turn him down either, because what you saw as Jake flirting with you was actually him imprinting on you

You’re not a wolf

You’re not aware of the supernatural world at all, as far as he knows

So he’s basically just been spending as much time as he possibly can with you

Imprint bonds are strong as fuck 

So for both physiological and psychological AND emotional reasons

He needs to spend as much time with you as possible 

And you want to spend time with him too

Not to the wolf extent

But still

There’s only one problem

You’ve been together for three amazing whirlwind weeks

And you already feel like you’ve known each other for your whole lives

He can tell that even though you’re not a wolf, you can feel the bond between you too

You might not know what it is, but you know that it’s there

Everything is happening so fast, but it doesn’t give you a bad gut feeling

Or any red flags

Like anywhere

You’re starting to wonder if maybe this is the true love fairytale romance you had always hoped for

That maybe soulmates are real

And you found yours

And Jacob feels  the exact same way

He’s given it a lot of thought, and he really believes that even if he hadn’t imprinted he would still like you more than he’s liked anyone before

He could go on for days about how amazing you are, and he’s determined not to let anything come between you

Not to let anything sabotage this beautiful love, this bond between you

But the only problem is that the full moon is getting closer and closer

And it’s the first full moon since he imprinted on you

Not all imprints are romantic in nature, but this one definitely is

Which means now since he has a mate, he’s going to start getting his rut

And he has to spend it with you, which means he has to explain it to you

Which means it’s finally time for the most awkward conversation of his life

He’s not scared to tell you he’s a werewolf

But he is scared to tell you that you’re starting to smell so good he gets hard when you’re not even in the room

That his feral wolf brain is taking over, and all he’s been able to think about for the last 48 hours is filling you up

Stuffing you full of his seed and knotting you nice and tight to keep it all in place while he gets you irrefutably pregnant, all nice and full and round with a big litter of pups

And it’s getting worse 

His thoughts are straying more and he knows he’s running out of time to explain that he’s either going to need to be chained to a tree or inside of you for anywhere from 24 to 96 hours

And since it’s his first rut since finding you, it’s almost definitely going to be longer, closer to four days than not

He’s over at your place like he has been for the last week or so, and he decides to talk to you about it when 

He thinks he can handle this

He totally thinks he can handle this

Then you step out of the shower, and you smell all sweet and fresh and extra you 

He sighs wistfully, realizing how much harder this is going to be 

“C’mere for a sec, I want to talk to you…” 

He trails off, pulling you onto his lap

He can sense that you’re worried, that you want to make sure he’s okay

And it makes him blush

He giggles, burying his face in your neck for a moment

You’re worried about him

Eventually he bites the bullet and confesses everything

You actually take it surprisingly well

He can tell you don’t fully believe him yet, but you don’t seem freaked out

“There is… one other thing…” 

He manages to get through the mates and heats and ruts talk without dying of embarrassment 

But he does start to get distracted part of the way through

Like really distracted

He snaps out of it for a few moments when he trails off after part of an explanation, and you chuckle, resting your hand on his cheek

“Even if you weren’t a werewolf, I would still be down to spend all weekend together.” 

His stomach flips as he realizes what you’re saying

“So-”

“I’d be happy to help you through your heat or rut or whatever it’s called.” 

His stomach flips when you say that

He genuinely didn't think he could get more attracted to you, then you say that

And then, something else happens

“I’m so glad!” he smiles, beginning to ramble again, “and if you want to stop, or if I’m too rough, or if it’s too much, just tell me to, uh…” 

You’re already agreeing, and promise you will as he tries to regain his train of thought

His eyes get kind of distracted, and he leans closer to you, sniffing

He buries his face in your neck and takes a few big, deep breaths

It makes you giggle until he pulls away and looks at you more intensely than he ever has 

His pupils are dilated and he’s laser focused on you

“Are you ovulating?” 

You check your cycle tracking app and yeah

Yeah you’re supposed to be ovulating today

He sniffs you again, shoving his face into your neck

His grip on your waist gets tighter and you can feel him getting hard below you

Your eyes widen when it just keeps growing and growing

He pants against your neck, breathing in your scent and starting to grind against you, moving your hips against his

You lose yourself for a moment before remembering what he asked you a moment ago

“Wait- how did you know that?” 

“Could smell it,” he mutters into your skin, rocking your hips harder against his and growling into your ear

“I… I think it’s starting, I need- I need to… I need to get you out of these clothes.” 

He picks you up and tears your pajamas off in a blur

He carries you into your bedroom, laying you face down on your soft duvet

His breath is heavy he manhandles you into a more comfortable position, and you can hear him tearing his clothes off behind you just as quick

His big hands grab your hips, finally pulling down your panties

They stick to your soaked cunt, and send a fresh wave of your pheromones swirling intoxicatingly through the air around him

You hear him let out a shuddering sigh, then suddenly feel warm breath against your soft folds

You let out a noise as he licks you, nuzzling into your cunt, before pulling back and spitting on it

He pokes and prods you with his tongue, working it further inside you as his fingers come up to play with your clit

Werewolf saliva has healing properties and can increase elasticity during heats and ruts, so it’s a pretty common practice

His hands and mouth feel so good, you’re not complaining

He makes you cum twice on his tongue before deciding you’re stretched out enough to take him

You feel him move behind you and grab your hips, pulling them back to meet his

This energy (it’s the horny wojak thinking about getting railed meme)

His breathing is heavy as he pushes in slowly

“Tell me if it’s too much. Promise you’ll tell me angel, okay?” 

You nod and manage to choke out that you will

Once you do that, it’s game over

The last amounts of self restraint Jacob possessed fade away as he completely loses himself in you

He starts thrusting into you at a brutal pace

He manhandles you, moving your body and positioning you closer to him

The next two or three days are going to be a hazy blur of cum and love bites and feeling the bulge of his knot and cock in your stomach

That’s all you’ll really be able to remember in your fucked out state

When he goes into heat, he’s already gonna be really fucking feral and primal

But when he goes into heat with you for the first time????

Oh my fucking god

It really is a good think werewolf spit can stretch you out, bc there’s no way you’d be able to take his cock, much less his knot otherwise

He grabs onto you so tight and possessive, completely pinning you down with his body weight

You could not wiggle out of his grip if you tried

He makes you cum two or three times in the first few minutes, so you know this is going to be a long, overstimulating night

But GOD everything he does feels so overwhelmingly good

He bites your neck, licking and rubbing against you to scent you even more aggressively

So expect to be covered in hickeys and love bites too

Oh my god the noises this man makes?????? 

Jesus fucking christ

Moaning, panting, growling right in your ear

You can’t get enough

Because you’re extra stretchy from his prep, the stretch of his knot filling you up more than you could imagine feels so incredible

He’s probably going to knot you at least twice before you’re both ready to pass out

Once you’re a quivering fucked out mess that’s literally dripping cum out of you, he’ll pull out very reluctantly 

Then you hear a drawer open, and he grabs something

He pushes a toy inside you to keep as much of his cum in there as possible while he goes to get you guys water and snacks

Once he’s back he’ll absolutely feed you

He’s overwhelmed with instincts to take care of you, so of course he’s going to feed you

One thing about Jacob is he will keep you fed and bred 

And you really can’t complain

He’s so loving and attentive and speaks to you so sweetly, peppering kisses across your face and telling you how good you’re doing

After that he’ll take the toy out and slide himself back in 

Then pull you into his warm chest for the coziest heaviest most sticky restful nap you’ve ever taken in your entire life

Once you’re both up later, expect to do the whole thing over again

And again, and again

Cause that’s pretty much all you’ll be doing for the next three days

And you can promise this is not the last rut you’ll help him out with

#jacob black #jacob black x reader #jacob black smut #jacob black headcanons #twilight #twilight x reader #twilight smut #twilight headcanons

[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-1

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 466

Author's Note: This is my first time writing for Bob and I hope I did him justice. Also, I tried to keep reader pretty neutral in features but she does have glasses and ear piercings!

It was an accident. One moment Bob was trying to find the perfect bouquet for Penny from Maverick because he trusted the quiet man. The next he’s surrounded by flowers on the ground and the prettiest eyes are staring at him with concern. Bob didn’t think that someone so beautiful would be the owner of the little florist shop he found on Google. It had the highest reviews and that was good enough for him. He was not expecting to be enamored with her when he first walked in. Hence why he missed the bucket with freshly cut peonies to the right of him. Which resulted in him slipping on the wet floor and landing flat on his ass.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Tilting her head which resulted in a soft jingle from the earrings she was wearing. The stars and moon twinkling in the sunlight added an almost ethereal appearance to her but maybe it was just in his head. 

“Y-yeah. Sorry about knocking that over. I can pay for them if they’re ruined now?” he said while standing up quickly. He felt like a total idiot knocking over your perfect flowers and his momma raised him to be a gentleman. So his immediate thought was to somehow fix the silly little mistake he made. 

“You’re totally fine,” she said with a chuckle while pushing up her glasses. “ They’re just flowers and besides I can repurpose them into one of my bath salts. An easy fix.” 

All Bob could focus on was her pretty smile and how much her glasses fit her face perfectly. With his head in the clouds, he missed the question she just asked him.

“I’m sorry what was that again?” he felt completely flustered.

“I asked what type of bouquet are you looking for? Is it for a partner or a friend?” she asked with a curious look on her face.

“Oh! It's not for me. My superior wanted some help picking out something for his partner.” Bob immediately replied with a flush on his cheeks. 

“Well, he must trust your insight a lot to give such an important task to you.” She turned around and picked up a bouquet that had morning glory, baby’s breath, and roses. “Here this bouquet will be perfect. Baby’s breath means everlasting love, Morning glory means affection, and pink and white roses together mean “I love you still and I always will.” 

Bob stood there even more enamored than before, the way she rattled off the meaning of each flower with such excitement made him want to know more. About her or the language of flowers, he wasn’t sure but he knew that this wasn’t the last time he would be crossing paths with this enigma of a woman. He’ll make sure of it. 

Tag List: @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @3tabbiesandalab @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123

This list is just everyone who voiced interest! Please fill out the form below to be tagged!

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Divider Credit @cafekitsune

#flyboy and the florist #bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fanfic #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fanfic #robert bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fluff #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fic #robert floyd fanfic #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fluff #bob top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun #top gun fic

[hellodarling1357]

Flames and Embers: Part 2 - Cassian x Vanserra!Reader (slow burn)

Thank you for all of the love on part one of Flames and Embers, it honestly means the world!

The next few parts will still have a bit of character set up, but I'm going off of this for everyone's (approx) ages because there will probably be a few different time line jumps throughout the chapters, at least until it's all caught up.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or if you've got any questions about this fic (or any of my others)!

I'm hoping to get a new chapter out every week. I've got a mass word doc already with so so so many ideas and little snippets that I'm so excited to properly write!

As always, requests are open!!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 2.6k

~ 528 years earlier ~

“But Father, I don’t want to go.” You were seven years old and had just been escorted to the entrance hall after being stuffed into a gown, hair done up in twirls with a small tiara placed atop your head.

Beron fixed you with a cold look as he assessed your appearance, causing you to shift on the spot as your brothers snickered behind his back.

“What did you say?”

“I just said that I didn’t want to go…” You trailed off, too late in realising your mistake.

Rule one, don’t question your High Lord.

Rule two, don’t talk back.

It made no difference that he was your father, your loyalty and obedience to his throne always came first, and within the span of just a few seconds, you had already broken the rules that had been outlined for you since before you could talk.

“If I say you are going, then you are going,” The lack of emotion in his voice sent chills over you, making you stare down at your feet to escape his pressing glare. “The only good that comes from having you as a daughter, is the chance of marrying you off and receiving a handsome dowery– “

“But Father, surely she is too young–“ The slap to the face that Eris received had the room coming to a standstill, even the snickering of your other brothers was silenced at the impact.

“Obviously she’s not getting married tonight, stupid boy. No, we need to start making her presence known, so that when the time comes it will be an easy enough transaction.”

You quietly sniffled, trying to hold back your tears. All you wanted to do was to run back upstairs and hide in your room. Your father turned back to the fae males who had silently watched the scene with smug smirks, resuming their previous conversation as you waited to depart for the Spring Court Ball.

With wide, watery eyes, you turned to face Eris. He had tried to help you and had gotten hurt in the process, but now he was back to his cold, distant self. This happened a lot, you had begun to realise. He would be warm and loving towards you, would try to protect you, but as soon as the others were around or it became too noticeable, he would act as though you didn’t exist.

You didn’t know what you had done wrong to have the others treat you like this, but you didn’t want to disappoint your father or your brother’s any further, so you wiped away your tears and raised your chin, silently waiting for the order to leave; slipping into the role of the perfect, silent female as you pushed away you worries surrounding the night ahead.

*****

The fae male your father worked with sneered down at you when he was ordered to winnow you to the Spring Court, still, you wouldn’t mention it to your father in case it was further reason for him to be angry with you, in case the male’s reaction was because of something you had done – not realising it was purely because you were a female who existed within the Autumn Court.

You timidly trailed in behind your brothers, who were pushing each other around as they followed your father into the glowing ballroom. Your family was announced upon entrance, and they all quickly dispersed into the crowd, leaving you lingering in the doorway with no idea what you should be doing; whether you should stay out of sight or if you should be following their lead. It was too late now; you had already lost sight of them so resorted to making your way around the edge of the room where you tried to copy what the other fae females were doing. It was too bad that none of them were anywhere near your age or bothered to acknowledge you in anyway. With a sigh you retreated to one of the shadowed corners and slumped into the seat as you observed the ballroom with disdain.

“Who are you?” The sudden appearance of the boy made you jump out of your chair, edging around it to create some distance between the two of you.

“Who are you?”

“I asked you first,” You warily glared at him, taking in his dark hair and violet eyes; he had to have been around the same age as you. There was a beat of silence before he continued, “I’m Rhys. Or Rhysand. But only my father calls me that. I much prefer Rhys. Did you know that I’m going to be a High Lord one day?”

You stayed silent, glancing around the room for any sight of your own father or brothers. Regardless of who this boy said he was, or who he was going to be, you knew your father wouldn’t approve of you talking to him and that it would most likely result in a lecture about maintaining appearances and, depending on his mood after tonight, a potential beating at your disobedience.

Oblivious to your discomfort, the boy, Rhys, continued talking, “Are you from Autumn?”

Your eyes shot towards him, before quickly looking around “Why? Why do you say that?”

That was another of your father’s rules broken if Rhy had already figured out who you were.

“Your hair,” You gave him a look of confusion, “It’s red?” He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yes, it is. By why does that mean I’m from Autmn?” Maybe you could try to throw him off, after all, your father had always said not to trust anyone from the other courts.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t.” His face was a mixture of deep contemplation and intrigue. “But it’s a good guess. Look, that’s all the High Lord’s sons over there, and they all have red hair.”

You head whipped around so fast, fear widening your eyes but, thankfully, they weren’t paying any attention to you.

“Can I tell you a secret? But you have to promise not to tell anyone.” It seemed the future High Lord had already jumped onto his next trail of thought, no longer curious about which court you hailed from.

“I heard, and I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I did. I heard my father, he’s the Night Court High Lord, saying to the males he works with that the Autumn High Lord is,” He looked around, giving you a conspiratorial smile as he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to quote his father, “a real piece of work.”

Rhys looked at you, gauging your reaction to the scandalous piece of news. You froze, not sure how to respond, but then a giggle left you, followed by another and another. You tried to hide your smile behind your hand but the pleased look on Rhys’ face and his laugh that followed made you giggle even harder.

“Rhysand.” A stern voice bit through the air, halting you both mid laugh. “Come over here. Now.” You had frozen at the tone of the male’s voice, used to associating the coldness of it with some form of punishment. Rhys, however, didn’t seem too concerned as he merrily said, “See you later, Autumn.” and made his way over to where his father and a female, who you could only assume was his mother, stood.

*****

You shook your head as if to clear the memories that had begun to resurface after your encounter with Rhysand in the dungeon. A part of you yearned for the simplicity of your youth, however, you now knew that simplicity didn’t necessarily mean happiness. And that, in reality, the simplicity you had experienced was purely your own youthful ignorance to the world around you.

Weeks had passed since the bargain had been made and Rhysand was yet to properly utilise your side of the deal. Not that you were complaining. The only times he had even deigned to acknowledge you since that night always seemed to coincide with your visits to Feyre. You could now guarantee that within the hour of you return from the dungeons, his voice would infiltrate your mind; only ever asking how “Feyre Darling” seemed to be faring.

The night before Feyre’s final task had arrived all too quickly. The party was in full swing – the fae around you drank and lounged and danced, others stood around laughing and singing as though they had no care in the world.

You stood with Lucien against a wall, both of you had a drink in hand but that was as festive as you would allow yourself to appear, especially when considering what Feyre would be facing tomorrow.

Neither of you talked much in public, leaving the decades worth of missed conversations for when you managed to find some quiet in the privacy of your own rooms. Instead, you observed the partygoers together and kept an eye out for the rest of your brothers and your father. Your mother was a rare sight at events such as these, over the years she had become more and more reserved, now, however, you couldn’t blame her one bit. Especially when considering the sight you were forced to witness as two young fae females sat draped across the arms of the seat your father occupied; you turned away in disgust, a scoff from Lucien was the only acknowledgement that he had also noticed.

Lucien pulled you from your thoughts with an elbow nudged into your side, inclining his head towards where Tamlin had silently moved to stand next to Feyre. You smiled at the sight, knowing how much she had missed him. At the sight of Tamlin sauntering off and Feyre trying to casually follow after him, you and Lucien shared a knowing smirk. All too suddenly, that small flicker of joy was extinguished with a scrape across your mental shield.

“Eyes and ears. Y/N, dearest”.

He offered no further instruction, but you knew what, who, he was referring to. With a disgruntled sigh, you pushed off the wall, murmuring to your youngest brother that you would see him later, before making your way through the crowd and out the door that Feyre and Tamlin had disappeared through.

The scene before you in the long stretch of corridor had you hesitating as you quietly shut the door behind you. They were clearly too caught up in, well, one another to even realise they were no longer alone. Also, seemingly oblivious to the fact that anyone could have walked in on them; you didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if they had been caught by someone else.

“Is this what you were wanting?” You shot back at Rhys, showing him the sight before you.

“I appreciate your efficiency. Best to make yourself scarce.” He purred back. You were too tired to think about what his words meant.

Not wanting to head back to the party that was becoming more and more unruly as the night went on, you made your way up the stairs and headed to your room, careful not to disturb Feyre and Tamlin as you passed by, hoping to allow them even just a moment of peace. You knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, not with the thought of what was to come tomorrow, but at least you would have a bit of quiet before everything changed, whether that be for the worse or the better.

*****

“Well, you certainly maintained your knack for having perfect timing over the years.”

The drawl of Rhys’ voice and his sudden appearance by the small window in your room had you jumping back, heart beating furiously in your chest.

“What do you want?” You voice was a low snarl as you glared at the High Lord, too tired and too fed up with the situation at hand to feign even an ounce of respect.

“I’m hurt, I thought you were beginning to warm up to me, what with your recent little trips down memory lane,” He tapped a finger to the side of his head, making a snarl appear on your face at the implication. “Seems as though you’ve been thinking about a lot of people from our past lately.” This was the most either of you had ever acknowledged the friendship you had once shared; of the other life you were so close to having before it was so cruelly snatched out of your hands.

“Stay out of my head.” He simply chuckled in response as he leant against the wall, silently observing you as he absentmindedly picked at his dark dress shirt.

“Why did you have me do that? You couldn’t allow Feyre a moment of happiness before whatever she has planned for her tomorrow?” You quickly changed the subject before he decided to delve even deeper into those memories of the past, your voice spitting out the word in reference to Amarantha.

You were surprised at the scoff Rhys let out, a scowl of his own appearing on his face at the thought of what he had walked in on, what you had shown him.

“Utter fools,” he seemed to say to himself as he crossed the room and sat in one of the old armchairs. “You're honestly telling me you don't see what was wrong with that whole…situation?”

Honestly? No, you didn’t. But you weren’t going to offer up an ounce of conversation as he begun making himself at home.

“He had a chance. A chance to get Feyre out. But instead, he wastes the opportunity on a quick fuck,” Your eyebrows narrowed at his words. That was not what you were expecting him to say, but now that you thought about it… Rhys hurriedly continued, voice laced with irritation, “If you were even just a minute later with showing me what was happening, it would’ve been too late for me to intervene, and then Amarantha would have seen everything.”

“I don’t understand…”

“That bitch would have killed Feyre on the spot if she had seen the two of them together. And if Feyre is dead… well, then the rest of us are well and truly fucked because there will be no other chances of getting out of this mess.”

His candour had your head spinning in cartwheels, still trying to catch up on the implication of his words, his actions.

“So…,” You started, still piecing it all together, “you were trying to protect her? After everything you’ve done, you, what? Suddenly grow a conscience?”

He just gives you an incredulous look before standing up with a disappointed sounding sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, YN.” The dark shadows start to gather around him but something in your stomach felt unsettled at his sudden departure.

“Wait, Rhys? What’s your end game here? What are you planning?” The shadows disappeared the moment the words were out, a smug grin appearing on his face.

“So, it’s back to being Rhys again, is it? Here I was thinking you preferred to call me Rhysand nowadays.”

Letting out a scoff you rolled your eyes. For a fleeing moment he had seemed so much like the male you had once known. Now, however, the new asshole version of him stood before you again; the epitome of arrogance and entitlement.

“Honestly, I would prefer to call you a prick, but it doesn’t seem overly appropriate, High Lord.” You offered a mocking curtsey.

A deep laugh escaped him as the darkness gathered around his shoulders again, leaving you with a final, “goodnight, Y/N.” then you were once again alone in your room, the dread of what tomorrow would bring curling itself around you.

*****

Thanks for reading 🥰

Tag List: @dr4g0ngirl @esposadomd @judig92 @hnyclover @sarawritestories @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @macimads @gorlillaglue25

#cassian x reader #vanserra!reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #cassian acotar #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #marley writes

[littlenightma]

Warm Hands | Rusty Nail x Female!Reader | Part 2 (NSFW)

Author’s Note: Part 1

Tags: NSFW content, older man/younger woman, size difference, dubious consent, kidnapping, possessive behavior, Rusty is doting on reader, lots o’ smut.

The convenience store had long disappeared beyond the horizon miles back, but you still stared at the rear view mirror hoping it would somehow appear again or that you would wake up in your bed letting you know this was all just a bad dream.

The snow storm was worsening as time passed, layering the road with snow, ice, and dirt. He took his time driving and acted nonchalant to the fact that he kidnapped you as he occasionally fiddled with the radio when it lost signal.

Your grocery bag sat in your lap, teasing you of what your night could have been. Watching your favorite show while you lounged on couch, eating your snacks and watching as the snow fell peacefully outside.

Yeah, what could have been.

“What’s your name?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“It’s Rusty. Rusty Nail.”

You visibly deflated. “I meant your real name.”

“That is my name.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a nickname. There’s a difference.”

Rusty shook his head, further cementing his previous statement. “I haven’t considered myself that name in years. Everyone knows me as Rusty and that’s what you’ll call me too.”

“Don’t you want to know my name at least?”

His eyes twinkled amusingly. “I already what your name is, [Y/N].”

Your mouth parted in confusion. “Wait — how do you know that?”

Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached into his jacket and pulled out your wallet, offering it back to you. His voice and face teamed up to convey their disapproval and you felt like a child being chastised by their parent for being caught sneaking out at night.

“This fell when you tried running away from me.”

You took your wallet and examined it in disdain. You never realized it fell nor that he picked it up. So now he knew not just your name, but also where you lived. Great. You stuffed it into your own jacket roughly, punishing it for making your situation worse.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“Home. It’s not too much further.”

You drew your eyebrows together. “You’re taking me to your home?”

He glanced at you then back to the road. “Where did you think I was taking you?”

You shrugged, mumbling quietly. “I don’t know, some cheap motel or something...”

He sighed heavily through his nose, chest rising and falling with confliction. He then rubbed his chin in thought before finally settling on what to say.

“Well, I ain't, so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

You scuffed at his absurd logic. “Yeah, like that’s what I’m worried about.”

Stop calling me pretty.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“No, but I know I won’t change your mind either.”

“You could let me go.”

His answer was quick and final. “No.”

You shook your bag in aggravation, crumbling the snacks inside. “Why not? Can’t you find someone else to fuck?”

He raised an eyebrow, giving you a questioning glance. “Who said anything about fucking you?”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. His head had to be screwed on too tight or maybe he was smoking more than just a nicotine cigarette.

“You! Back at the store you said you wanted company for the night. What else is that supposed to mean? I sure as hell know you’re not taking me home to chat about this lovely weather we’re having.”

He chuckled low, long fingers gliding across the steering wheel as he turned it. Those same fingers flexed away from the wheel before going back to gripping it until his knuckles turned white. His voice noticeably deepened in timbre, exacerbated with desire as he spoke.

“I have every intention on getting you in my bed tonight, but it isn’t to fuck you like some lot lizard I found slinking in the streets. Oh no, little one, I’m gonna be to taking my sweet time with you and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.”

In that moment, the truck passed another car who was going just as slow and careful. Their headlights brightened the tenebrous truck and in their hazy glow, Rusty’s blue eyes caught yours. They threatened you with a dark seductiveness and a dangerous allure and had Rusty not kept on driving you would have thought he was getting ready to pounce you right there.

You found yourself struck silent, dumbfounded and uneasy. You wordlessly turned back in your seat and watched as snowflakes hit the glass pane of your window. His words played back in your mind over and over again like it was an old VCR player and somebody was constantly pressing replay.

From his side of the truck, Rusty’s resistance was waning as time passed into the drive and the more he sensed your rising turmoil. He wanted to pull the truck over to the curb and spread you wide over his seats so he could quell your worries.

He had no intention of bringing home any woman when he stopped by the local shop to get a working lighter and a pack of cigarettes. After being on the road for months on end, he was ready to call it quits for a while, get some chores done around the house he’d been putting off and rest up while he had the chance to.

Funny how plans could change in a blink of an eye.

He swore he stood witness to an angel dashing through those sliding doors bearing a halo of snow and a mischievous smile highlighting your pink champagne lips. He smelled your shampoo when you whipped by briskly not sparing him a glance. He peered curiously over the shelves and watched you peruse the store in determination. He figured you were after something important like bread or milk or even a flashlight, but when you came around the corner carrying an accomplished grin and an arm full of sweets, he grinned himself.

Cute little thing.

He thought nothing more you after that, still intending to get his smokes and lighter and head home, but whether by accident or fate, his hand brushed yours when he passed you and it all hit him at once; your soft skin, your slight intake of breath, your timorous glance and just like that you had drawn him in. Rusty was enamored and he wanted nothing more than for you to follow him because between the few steps he took between you and the door, he decided he wasn’t going home alone tonight.

He waited patiently in his truck for you, cock already half-erect and painful from the delicious images in his head. He lit a cigarette and adjusted himself. Inclining his head back, he blew a few rings of smoke up into the air. His bed had been feeling mighty cold lately the thought of you warming it sounded too good too pass up. He looked out the window and saw you walking closer, eyeing his truck with apprehension.

Come to me, pretty girl. Just a little closer now.

He rolled the window down.

~ ~ ~ ~

“She ain’t much, but she’s home.”

He pulled the truck up a long and winding dirt road until a two-story, white farm house came into view. It looked run down and unkept, but it was a lot better than the dungeon you had pictured in your mind on the way there.

He got out of the truck and came around to your side. He unlocked your door with a key he took from his pocket and offered you a hand. You eyed it with uncertainty and glanced behind his raised arm into the vast darkness where the crystalline snow morphed into the black of night. You contemplated whether or not you should make a run for it.

“I know these mountains like the back of my hand. You’d never make it out of them before I or the animals get you and that’s only if you don’t freeze to death first. But—” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “—If you’re that set on leaving then I won’t stop you.”

The chilly night air brushed against the back of your neck threateningly. You pressed your lips together. He was right. Running away would be a death sentence. What made it even worse was that you knew he knew you wouldn’t actually run so him giving you an opportunity to was his way of showing you who was actually in control and it was working. Begrudgingly, you placed a hand in his. He squeezed it, giving you a gruntled look.

“Good girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The people pleaser in you delighted in the praise even though it came from Rusty. He led you up the walkway still holding your hand. You didn’t understand why since it should have been clear that you weren’t going to run, but when when you almost slipped on a nasty patch of ice, he steadied you with his strong grip and his refusal to drop your hand became perfectly clear; he was making sure you didn’t fall and hurt yourself.

The inside of his house was interesting to say the least as it looked pretty much abandoned. Cobwebs hung in intricate designs from the ceiling fan and the hardwood floor had long lost its shine due to the several years worth dirt and dust doing their best to speed up the aging process. Various things were stacked into high piles in the corners of the room while others were haphazardly thrown about, forgotten and unused. The house appeared more like a storage unit than an actual home.

Rusty went and turned on a few lamps and the heating system, warming the house both in light and temperature. He came around and took off your coat and laid it on the back of the couch along with his two which left him in a green, button up flannel and a brown t-shirt. He was more well-built than you’d expected and when he bent down to pick up one of his coats that fell to the floor, his arm muscles flexed and you were intimidated by how dramatically they bulged.

He could really hurt me if he wanted to…

Curiosity got the best of you as you wandered the house. You were in awe with how much stuff there was to look at and for a couple of minutes your mind forgot why you were brought here in the first place as you glided your fingers across the different things you came across. Rusty trailed a few feet behind you. He kept quiet, letting you do your own thinking. He found himself growing more self conscious about the state of his house and hoped you didn’t find it too much of a wreck.

“You don’t really spend a lot of time here, do you?”

Rusty shook his head, a hint of regret in his voice. “No, not really. My job requires me to be on the road most of the time so everything in here just sits collecting dust for the most part. Could always use a women’s touch I suppose.”

“You mean to clean?”

Rusty grimaced when he realized how his comment came across and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

You laughed softly. “I know what you meant. Maybe you’ll find someone who will add some life to this place.”

His gaze settled on you, unwavering and penetrating. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You turned away from his unspoken insinuation and met a set of stairs leading you up to what had to be his bedroom. It was the only room you hadn’t encountered yet. No longer feeling up to exploring you tried turning back, but Rusty stopped you short.

“You still have one more room left to see.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t want to see it.”

He leaned in his closer as if to share a secret. His lips scraped your ear, traveling up to your temple, right above your eye where he pressed a kiss there. The small, loving gesture quelled your consternation, but a thick, foreboding cloud of doubt still lingered because the kiss held an implying promise of what was yet to come. You pressed your face into his chest seeking comfort and he rubbed your back a few times before he turned you around to face the stairs.

“Stairway to heaven, sweetheart. Up you go.”

He lightly swatted your backside causing you to yelp. You felt his chest move as he chuckled and pushed you forward. With your head bowed defeatedly, you trudged up the steps. Rusty couldn’t help but appreciate the sway of your hips and how tight your jeans were.

Entering the bedroom, he slid past you, catching one of your belt loops with his finger. He tugged you with him to the bed where he sat on the edge of it, pulling you between his knees. You wrapped your arms around yourself and waited for his direction. You felt out of place and worried that if you didn’t do good enough that it would cause him to become angry and lash out at you. Without dropping your gaze, he unbuttoned his flannel and peeled it off before lifting the brown t-shirt over his head, taking his hat with it. He threw the clothes and hat, well, you didn’t know where he threw them because you were too busy being mesmerized by his chest.

His chest was a chest belonging to a laborer, well muscled and broad. The temptation to touch him was hard to resist and before you knew it, you were exploring it like much like you did his house, running your fingers through the sparse salt and pepper hair. He radiated warmth like a cup of freshly poured coffee that you couldn’t wait to wrap your hands around and enjoy.

As you marveled his body, the next words tumbled out before you could stop them. “You’re really handsome, Rusty. Like one of those greek sculptures.”

The astonished look on his usual stoic face made you regret your words. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. Embarrassed, you dropped your hands and whispered an apology. Rusty was quick to mend things.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, darlin.’ I just ain’t used to receiving compliments is all.” He grabbed your hands and placed them back on his shoulders and smiled gently. “Will you keep going for me?”

Instead of going back down his chest, you chose to run your hands up the back of his neck to his head. Rusty sat with his hands on your hips, enjoying the attention you were giving him. He closed his eyes when your nails scraped his scalp and groaned loudly.

“Fuck, baby. That feels nice.”

Without his eyes on you, you felt more comfortable to do your own thing and in a spur of confidence, you peeled your shirt off and unhooked your bra. Rusty opened his eyes questioningly and instantly locked onto your breasts that were bobbing teasingly a few inches away. His mouth parted and without a warning he latched onto a nipple and began sucking. His tongue swirled around it, hardening it until it was ripe, and he let it go to do the same to the other one.

Your head leaned back while your chest leaned forward into his mouth. One of your hands cradled the back of his head while the other raked through his long hair, pushing it back from his face so he could suck without interruption. You both groaned in unison from the reciprocating pleasure.

With your hands still lost in his hair, he roamed his own over your stomach, appreciating how perfect and healthy you looked. He wanted to mark you somehow. He wanted you remember this night long after it’s over, like a blood stain that refused to lift.

He suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist and hurled you onto your back on the bed. The old springs squealed beneath the toppling weight of you and Rusty. He loomed over you on all fours like a predator ready to ravage its prey. You felt the vibration of your zipper being pulled down against your pussy and it sent a jolt of adrenaline through you. Sliding his hands beneath you, he coaxed you up.

“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

Maybe it was his deep southern drawl or the way he naturally exuded power and dominance that compelled you to obey without question because as soon as he commanded you to, your hips were in the air. He pulled your jeans down until they were mid-thigh and from there he slipped your off your shoes and socks before sliding the jeans the rest of the way. So now you lay in his bed with nothing but a pair of panties and you couldn’t have been more nervous for them to be stripped away too.

You were a perfect balance between shy and tempting. You crossed your legs attempting to hide from his lecherous gaze, but it was fruitless. Rusty had already mesmerized your beautiful body and all its curves and bends. He grabbed the plush muscle of your thighs, kneading it like dough. His eyes asked for permission to go further, to finally touch you where he desperately wanted to. You sucked in a breath and nodded, looking up at him with so much trust. It warmed Rusty up better than any blazing fire ever could.

You’re safe with me, little one. You’ll always be safe with me.

He peeled your underwear down slowly. His eyes never rose until they were completely gone, tossing them aside like everything else. The air swept across your bareness and you knew there was no going back now. When he did finally look, he made a noise low in his throat and his eyes darkened to a deeper shade. Your pussy was already glistening for him. He pushed your knee with a heavy palm, prompting you to spread yourself.

His lecherous stare on any other man would have repulsed you, but on him it only made the butterflies in your stomach flutter eagerly. Gradually, like the first drifts of snow falling from a cliff before the start of an avalanche, the heavy walls you had built finally collapsed and you shuddered happily.

He playfully rubbed his chin on your thigh. The stubble from his jaw tickled your skin and you reacted in a fit of giggles. Rusty visibly lit up at the sound. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard laughter in his house. He did it again, eyes focused on you. He earned another laugh and loved the smile you tried preventing from spreading. You lurched forward and pushed his face away.

“Hey, stop that! It tickles!”

He smirked, feigning innocence. “Stop what?”

Your eyes narrowed. “You know what.”

“Let me just go down lower then…”

His full lips kissed your thighs, going further until they hovered over your folds. Your breath hitched when his hot breath warmed your pussy. He was so close, yet so far away. It was delicious torture. When you lifted your hips up to his mouth, he abruptly pulled away. You noisily voiced your dissatisfaction.

“Want do you want, baby? Use your words. I ain’t no mind reader.”

You lifted your hips again, begging helplessly. “Rusty.”

“Rusty what? What do you want me to do?”

“I want your mouth on me. Make me come, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He used two fingers to spread your lips open and latched onto your clit without mercy. A guttural sound echoed in the room and your eyes widened when you realized it didn’t come from Rusty, but from you. This spurred Rusty on and he sucked your sensitive clit so good that you thought the roof was caving in as your eyes rolled back into your skull. You tangled your hands into his hair, using his face as a make shift saddle and his curls as the reins.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised adoringly between licks. “Make me put my mouth exactly where you want it.”

You tugged his hair and pushed him down in a particular spot that had you shaking and weeping because his stubbled chin rubbed your aching pussy in all the right and wrong ways. Soon you felt yourself drawing close to your release and you grinded fiercely on his face in anticipation.

“Rusty—” you gasped, back arching, “I’m going to cum. Don’t stop!”

You could bring any man to his knees by begging like that and you surely brought him to his. There was nothing Rusty wouldn’t have done for you in that moment if it meant hearing that sweet voice of yours crying out to him in ecstasy.

“Fill my mouth, little one,” he growled, reclaiming your pussy with an animalistic ferocity, hungrily eating you out with his entire face buried between your legs so that only the back of his head could be seen.

Like the good girl you were, you did exactly as you were told. Your ribs expanded from the gasp, head reeling back as your orgasm shook you. Rusty never stopped thrusting his tongue, lapping up every drop of your cum. He swiftly pulled you forward so could he drive his tongue further and as expertly as he drove his truck. From his position on his knees, he watched you writhe and squirm, unable to keep still from the intense pleasure that overwhelmed you.

Your thighs locked around his head and covered his ears, muffling your loud moans. Rusty licked everywhere, from the inside of your thighs to the very inner workings of your spasming pussy as if he was a starving man who refused to be wasteful. With a final swipe of his long tongue, Rusty had you cleaned up good. He then placed a satisfied kiss on your pussy before straightening himself.

“How you feeling?”

“I…I need a minute,” you said between breaths. “It’s never felt like that before.”

He kissed your shoulder, purring reassuringly. “Take all the time you need, darlin’. There’s no rush.”

Comforted by his words, you laid back leisurely on his pillows, still experiencing the aftershocks of your orgasm. Rusty laid beside you, running his hands over you soothingly. The lamp on his bedside table casted a tangerine glow on your body and it suited your flushed face perfectly.

A few hours ago you wanted nothing to do with Rusty or his hands. But now your eyes followed their every move, seeking them out when he raised them away then relaxing when he brought them back down again.

His movements casted a soporific effect on you, and soon your eyes began to flutter close and your breathing slowed down to an even rhythm. Your body sank deeper into the mattress as the tension left your body and to Rusty it only confirmed to him that he had an angel sleeping in his bed.

Rusty bent down and kissed the valley between your breasts, easing you back awake. “Don’t give out on me yet, pretty girl. We’re just getting started.”

#rusty nail #rusty nail x reader #slasher community #joy ride 2: dead ahead (2008) #joy ride 2 #mark gibbon #original writing #slasher x reader #slashers

[shomixremix]

WEARING A PRETTY OUTFIT FOR HIM ♥︎

this popped into my head as i was cleaning out my closet. hope you lovelies enjoy!

tags: Arataki Itto, female! reader, fluff, teasing, lots of touching, smutty

-> you decide to surprise Itto on one of your date nights with a brand new, pretty outfit. however, the way it hugs your body makes him drool, wondering if the two of you should just stay home...

reqs open!

"itto? are you okay, hon?" you ask worriedly. as soon as you opened your door once the oni's heavy palm knocked on it, his jaw fell and his crimson eyes widened.

even when you asked him a question, no response came out. he continued staring quietly - which was very unusual. itto never did anything quetly.

"holy fuck, baby!" he suddenly exclaimed, wiping his face off shock. "you look.. wow. i mean, wow wow WOW!"

you chuckle at his praise, a soft tint rising in your cheeks. you catch one of his much larger palms in your hands, gently leading him inside your house.

as soon as he was inside, the oni made himself comfortable, sitting at the edge of your bed. that same dumbfounded yet extremely amused look still sat on his face as he looked at you, his demon eyes scanning the entirety of your figure.

"wow, sweets, ya' haven't shown me that one before!" he exclaimed with a large, toothy smile on his face, looking like a mesmerized puppy. if he had a tail, it would definitely be wagging.

but yet, his words were the truth - the silk, red dress you were wearing was purchased only the day before, and it was having its debut.

"oh, i got it yesterday at the market! this one was imported from liyue harbor, isn't that amazing? i love the gold details and this black bow on the back!"

oh, he loved them as well. gold, red and black were itto's favorite colors, of course he liked seeing them on you! especially on a short dress that barely covered your plump curves! hell, any color would look great on that perfect body of yours!

your hair was put up stylishly and elegantly, exposing your soft neck and that little almost-faded bite mark that itto left on you the last time you went out. the dress was short-sleeved, perfect for this early-summer weather, and so tight that it perfectly showed off your figure. and fuck, your slender arms that always eagerly wrapped around his biceps, and that beautiful waist he loved to hold, and those incredibly sexy hips he kneeded whenever he had the chance... and that beautiful plump ass that made him lose his mind, and holy shit, those heavy, pretty tits that were so beautifully framed by the heart neckline...

it was making itto lose his mind.

"it looks incredible, love bug! the dress is so pretty, but honestly, it's only that gorgeous 'cause you're wearing it, baby"

you smiled at his compliment, walking a few steps closer to him.

"aww, itto... you're so handsome too, you know? my big, handsome oni..." you say, your palms on his cheeks as you kiss the top of his head.

as soon as these words left your rosey mouth, his greedy hands grabbed your ass, sharp claws digging in the soft flesh. he looked up at you from his place on your bed, that same smile on his face.

"aww, sweets, you're makin' me blush over here! i try my best, ya know, gotta clean up a lil' if i'm takin' my girl out!"

clean shaven, with sharp eyeliner that for sure took him multiple tries (untill he just gave up and let Kuki do it) and a little bit of gel in his mane, you could tell itto really put in the effort in his appearance!

suddenly, he got up, offering you his hand: "c'mon, love bug, give me a little spin, yeah? go on, show off that pretty little dress, baby!"

you did as told, spinning around to give him a better view. he drooled at the sight, his hands instinctively grabbing your plushy tighs and running under your dress.

"itto!", you scold through a laugh, "don't do that, we're supposed to go out tonight!"

with a toothy grin on his face he pulled your bodies closer, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

"aaww, but- but, sweets! we don't have to go out, yeah? we could stay here, you know? get nice and cozy, have a night in? yeah? you'd like that, baby, hm?"

every word he uttered was followed by a squeeze on a part of your skin, your tighs, hips and ass constantly violated by his playful yet suggesting grips.

"no, sorry babe, i'm hungry! but we're definitely having a "night in" later..." you seductively say, batting your eyelashes at him. "plus, if you like this dress, you're gonna go crazy about what's under it, too"

his eyes go wide as you walk out the door, motioning for him to follow you.

"you're such a little tease, love bug..." he growled as he followed you, one muscular arm wrapping around your waist.

"and you have to promise me you'll give me a nice, long fashion show later with whatever's underneath that dress, 'kay? even if there's nothing there. especially if there's nothing there!"

#genshin impact #arataki itto #itto #genshin arataki #genshin itto #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin lime #itto fluff #arataki itto fluff #itto x reader #fluff #suggestive #female reader #requests open

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

NOTES: I literally put my whole heart and pussy into the previous part and it's just so THRILLING to see all the immense love and support!! 🥺❤️❤️❤️

I'm reeeally hoping y'all will like this part, too! Steven has an extremely special place in my heart, but this time we're shifting focus and giving our lovably murderous Moon Boy JAKE his time to shine!! \(^o^)/

Now as we all know, Jake unfortunately hasn't had a lot of screen time yet. I also watched Moon Knight for the third time and besides his confirmed appearance in the post-credits, there are some other more subtle scenes that I'm PRETTY sure Jake was in and it was a lot of fun for me to think so and obsess over!

But I digress! Anywhore, as I was saying, since Jake hasn't been on a lot the way I write him is PURELY made up. Of course, I try my best to capture the vibes I personally get from him, but until Season 2 drops (because I am NOT giving up on that) we don't know for certain what his personality's actually like (and I haven't read the comics please don't shoot me). It was a little challenging, but I really enjoyed getting to explore Jake and his perspective quite a bit! Though he ended up being a bit sadder than I intended CUZ THIS BOI JUST NEEDS AND DESERVES A WHOLE LOTTA LOVIN'❣️

Furthermore, I am not a Spanish speaker. Jake obviously is and I wanna stay as true as possible to the character by having him speak some (*cough* S E X Y *cough*) Spanish throughout, but if I made any mistakes at all then please kindly correct me as I mainly just use Google Translate and/or search up Spanish terms! For example, I was made aware that "ese" means "that" in Spanish. However, it's also Spanish slang for "dude", "man", etc. and I just find it fitting for Jake to call the boys that 😅

Also, Jake is...rough 😳 Don't worry, he loves and cares about you a LOT, but this is a fair WARNING in case you're not into that! And this part got pretty long, IDK I probs blacked out somewhere in the middle and this is le horny result~

Additionally, do y'all think the relationship between reader x Steven/the boys is going too fast? I really try to make it as natural as possible, but hey this is only fiction after all and I think Steven, for one, falls in love FAST since in the show he was already simping for Layla the first time they met 😂 But I can't judge Steven cuz I'd be the same if I ever met Oscar Isaac I mean, I'm already simping now but YOU GET IT

And a lil funny coincidoink, Like A Virgin came on the radio which I guess was your guys' universal push for me to continue this ASAP!

I truly am sorry for the wait!! Life is hard but I simp harder xD

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland @the-ginger-draws @bitchyglitterfox @readingfan @spidey-3 @minigirl87 @wandasupremacy @simba-will-live-on @wavychelle @thepowerthismanhasoverme @blackholegladiator @kittytiddywinks @literalfkinsimp @valen-yamyam16 @shaunalouie @howellatme @aleat0ri0 @bean-is-reading @indigxjunipxr

Part 4: Gonna give you all my love, boy

Your chest rose and fell with each soft, blissful snore. Your face void of any burden, open and peaceful; plump lips parted slightly, looking so kissable. And that's exactly what Steven did, lonely lips descending to meet yours--his slumbering goddess.

An insatiable part of him longed for you to awaken, to spend more time fumbling around in the sheets until sunrise. But he knew, more than anyone else, that sleep was important. And he had no doubt that after all the...unique events that progressed your relationship, you deserved all the rest you can get.

Like the proper gentleman he was, he had cleaned you up before snuggling in bed together until dreams inevitably consumed you. And now here you were, using one of his arms that he can't feel anymore as your pillow and your bodies exchanging heat.

Then his mouth lowered, down your chin, to your throat, and to the delicate dip between your neck and shoulder. Planting butterfly kisses on your skin, lips tracing and eyes memorizing every perfect imperfection that dotted your body like constellations.

He noticed your breathing slowly growing uneven, your nipples salaciously peaking through your tank top. He knew he had to stop. He had to, but...

He lifted his free hand, inching towards your breasts before freezing, clenching into a tight fist that had his nails digging into his palm.

His cheeks bloomed red, pulling away and laying on his back as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. What the fuck was he doing?

"Jake, mate... I know you're there, might as well say something, yeah?" Steven whispered.

'Your senses are improving, ese.' Jake snickered. 'Is that why you stopped? No need to be shy, it's just the same as watching porn.'

Steven turned redder, clearing his throat. "Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Silence greeted him. Steven waited patiently, giving his alter all the time he needed. As rough around the edges as they may be, the boys all cared about each other and Steven knew that all Jake needed--deserved--was time. Hell, he and Marc didn't even know Jake existed for a while until he finally felt comfortable enough to reveal himself.

'Nah, ese.' Jake snorted, though his voice held a certain heaviness to it. 'She's all yours. You deserve her, Steven.'

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

'Don't think your little cariño would appreciate it so much that you're wanting to hand her off to some other asshole.' Jake scoffed.

"I'm not 'handing her off', you git. I wanna...share." Steven mumbled the latter, gulping thickly.

'Steven...' Jake sighed, but Steven sensed intrigue in his tone. 'I don't know what the fuck you expect from this talk, ese. We only share the same body, that's it.'

"You're lying and you know it. Two months working with Y/N, I never said anything, but I knew you were always there. This damn body isn't the only thing we share, 'cause I know your feelings are just the same as mine."

It was then that you mewled softly, shifting and wrapping an arm around Steven's waist and cuddling close to his side with a content little smile on your lips as you slept.

Steven melted and he felt Jake do so, too.

"I'm not giving you an out, mate." Steven chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'm absolutely buggered and so are you."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Steven, that absolute fucking puta.

As soon as Jake opened his eyes, dread filled him. Slowly turning his head and seeing your back to him, he knew Steven gave up control at some point and forced Jake to come out from the shadows.

He's tried multiple times to drag that pendejo back out, but Steven has obviously put up a block between them. Jake sighed frustratedly, his gaze lingering on you once more.

His heart ached. And fuck it hurts.

He wasn't Steven.

He did not deserve you.

He was dirty--rotten. He was only good for causing pain; even the ways in which he protected the boys were brutal, inhumane.

And he loved the chaos. Thrived in it.

When Steven met you for the first time, two months ago, that was what Jake intended to cause as well. Pain. Heartbreak.

Nothing more than another pretty notch to add to his belt.

But you...surprised him. You actually cared about Steven, gave him basic human respect and the time of day when no one else did and just fucking listened. Accepted him with open arms and such a kind, blinding smile. And pretty soon, Jake yearned for that, too. From you. Just you.

You didn't even know he existed--you didn't fucking care about him--and yet you smashed his glass heart into a thousand pieces, leaving him to find the sharpest shard and continuously stab himself as punishment.

That's what he deserved. Not you.

But oh... You looked so cold. Why were you so far away? What the hell were you thinking, pulling away from him?

Like a lion stalking its prey, Jake crawled towards you until he was on top of you. His dark eyes trailed down your sleeping form, so beautiful, so vulnerable. He didn't realize his hand was shaking slightly as it reached up to caress your face, breath hitching as his thumb glided across your bottom lip before slowly slipping it inside your mouth.

He watched, completely entranced, as your saliva coated his thumb and the way in which you squirmed so that you were now laying on your back, facing him. You were still asleep, though your brows creased together and your breathing grew shallow.

What were you dreaming about, Jake wondered? Were you dreaming about last night? Steven didn't feel him then, but Jake was there and it was the best torture he's ever endured.

He can make you feel good--better. And if there was any room in your heart (and legs) for him, he'd more than happily prove it to you.

But you were so kind, so sweet... Surely you'd accept him, too, right?

Surely you'd relieve him of his huge fucking hard-on, right?

He found himself lowering, lowering, lowering--then stopped just as his lips were about to meet yours.

No...

You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve him.

As if he was just burnt, he sprang away from you and sat at the foot of the bed, keeping as much distance as possible. His head hung low, hands scrubbing his face in frustration before turning into self-loathing slaps.

He quickly got a hold of himself, lest you have a cruel awakening to him. Not Steven.

He looked over his shoulder. You really did look cold. He unchained the ankle restraint then stood up, walking over to your side and tucking the blanket over your unfairly scantily clad body.

God... How he wished he was the one keeping you warm.

He then shook his head, glancing towards the wall clock. 5:40 a.m.

He can sneak out and do some business for Khonshu. And by the time he returns, hopefully Steven does, too.

He has to.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You rolled over in bed, expecting to cuddle up next to something much more solid than a pillow. Your brows furrowed, a hand flying out to pat the bed and not finding what--who--it was seeking.

Your eyes snapped open and you bolted upright. You looked around in a frenzy, eyes still bleary with sleep and finding the apartment completely empty.

You then noticed the time on the wall clock. 7:20 a.m.

You were off work today, but you weren't sure if Steven had a shift. But even if he did, it was still too early for the museum to open.

So...

Where the hell was Steven?

He couldn't have ditched you...could he? No, that wasn't possible, this was his flat.

But wait... What if this was his subtle way of telling you to get lost? That he didn't want to see you still here when he comes back from wherever the fuck he went to?

You overstayed your welcome, didn't you? This was what it was about, isn't it? This was all your fault, right?

You were on the verge of hyperventilating when, at the corner of your eye, you spotted a bright yellow sticky note on top of the books on the bedside table. You quickly ripped it off, reading the messy, rushed handwriting.

Don't know when I'll be back. Just relax. Food for you is in the kitchen, amor.

You blinked away tears you didn't realize were forming once, twice, then bursted into laughter.

"Fuck, seriously, what is wrong with me?" You berated yourself, still laughing.

This was Steven. Of course he would never abandon you, and you would never abandon him.

He proved it to you, after all. The memories of last night terrorizing your brain once more, making you blush like a virgin (which you were--for now).

You wanted to prove yourself to him, too. And you're sure you'll think of something, but at the moment you became distracted as your eyes landed on Steven's black sweatshirt sprawled carelessly across the floor.

You put on your glasses then hopped off of the bed and picked up the sweatshirt, tugging it on and letting out a giggle as it drooped over your thighs, turning the sleeves into little hand mittens and your body and heart just feeling so warm.

You ambled over to the kitchen, seeing a plate of slightly burnt toast and scrambled eggs clumsily covered in plastic wrap on the small dining table. You chuckled softly, taking the plastic off before sitting down and having breakfast.

As you chewed, once again your brain couldn't help but wander off.

It was only a little thing. Such a stupid thing, really. But still, it just would not stop nagging you.

Amor. It was French for 'love'.

But... Steven didn't spell it with a U. It was supposed to be amour.

Amor, no U, was the Spanish spelling. And Steven, who seemed fluent in French, should know that.

But people make mistakes, and who were you to judge such a minuscule, silly mistake?

Before you could entertain yourself by ruminating over such nonsense some more, your ears perked up when you heard the lock click and the door opening and shutting close. You kept quiet, watching as Steven slowly trudged in.

He was wearing a flat cap and a trench coat, and from your spot in the kitchen he hasn't noticed you yet. But he looked...different.

You couldn't quite explain it, but he seemed...tense. On edge. An air of agitation surrounding him, stiff in his movements yet carrying a sense of confidence at the same time.

Wild.

You then swallowed, standing up from your chair and silently making your way over to Steven with his back turned to you as he busied himself with stripping off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling him jolt. But before he could react, you spoke up.

"I missed you..." You murmured, embracing him more tightly as you pressed your cheek to his back. "Don't do that again, please. At least wake me up if you're leaving."

Steven didn't say anything, completely rigid and gloved hands balled into tight fists.

Then it clicked.

"You're not Steven...are you?"

His shoulders jerked, and you pulled your face away to look up at him. But you never removed your arms, keeping them in place around his waist.

Then his shoulders drooped, hearing him take a sharp intake of breath before ever so slowly turning his head over his shoulder.

"Caught red-handed." His lips curled up into a smirk, dark eyes gleaming down at you. "You're much more observant than I thought, princesa."

Your breath hitched, mouth agape and eyes blown wide as you gawked at him. You didn't know what to feel. Well, there was definitely excitement, but you weren't sure if it was appropriate for you to feel such a way.

Regardless, you were glad Steven was open and honest with you from the get-go. You knew, at some point, it was inevitable that you'd meet the two other men he's mentioned. So, you weren't too taken aback to be experiencing this right now.

"Judging from your accent and what you called me just now... You must be Jake?" You queried, cocking your head to the side as you stared up at him. Funny, he shared the exact same body as Steven, but he was still...different. The way he held himself, the little quirk to his lips, the look in his eyes--it was all very distinct.

"Don't see why you gotta keep asking me questions, princesa. Seems like ya got it all figured out." Jake scoffed, amusement in his tone.

"Well... You certainly made an...impression when you asked me out." You spoke slowly, carefully, as if not daring to spook some wild animal. You wanted Jake to feel safe, welcomed; because it felt like Jake hasn't at all expected to be here right now, but you wanted to let him know that you didn't mind him. You were happy to be meeting him.

But Jake took it the wrong way. He read your body language as aloof, like you were just trying to be polite. And why wouldn't you be? You were naturally kind, but he knew better.

He was absolutely not supposed to be here. He was never supposed to meet you, never planned to. After all, you preferred Steven.

...Didn't you?

His jaw ticked, his hands untangling your arms around his waist before he spun on his heel to fully face you. You gasped as he did, paling at the sight of blood on his shirt.

"What happened?!" You panicked, your hands immediately touching his body, eyes frantically searching for any injuries. "Did someone hurt you?! Oh my god, who did this to you?!"

"It's not my blood."

You froze, a chill coursing through your veins. Slowly, your head tilted up, meeting his gaze. It was much darker than before, flecks of savagery brewing within. And yet, you also saw...loneliness.

Longing.

"Are you scared, Y/N?"

You held your breath, his voice cracking as he uttered your name for the first time. It was a simple question that had a painfully simple answer.

"I am."

Jake shut his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a wavering breath.

He fucking knew it.

"Jake..." His eyes snapped open at your voice, so soft, so unexpectedly calm. "Will you...hurt me?"

"I would never." He whispered--promised--holding your gaze sincerely. "I couldn't."

"I'm scared of the...things you can do, Jake." You admitted, noticing his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. His gaze fell to the floor, but you reached up, gently cupping the side of his face. "But...I'm not scared of you."

Jake met your eyes once more, his hardened expression softening as he sighed, nuzzling into your comforting hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt...safe. He was not one of Khonshu's pawns, he was not Steven or Marc's ruthless protector, he was simply...

Jake Lockley.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured, trembling hand reaching out and caressing your cheek; tenderly, fondly, lovingly. "I...was never supposed to meet you. I was fine watching you quietly. But last night, Steven said he wanted us to meet. For me to be a...part of what you have with him."

A deafening silence rang in your ears. Jake watched you with those intense, soulful eyes, brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he waited with bated breath for your reaction. Any reaction.

"Jake..." You have no idea how you even managed to speak, your volatile heartbeat replacing the silence. "Take a shower first, we'll talk after."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Water dripped from Jake's hair, his hands pressed against the wall with his head tilted down as he watched the pristine white tiles of the shower's floor stain red.

This was an all too familiar situation for him. Washing off blood that didn't belong to him, his body getting cleaned though never his damned soul. But it never bothered him before...until now.

He knew there was a chance you'd be awake when he returned, but he figured that he can just pretend to be Steven at least until that idiot takes control of the body again. Jake's done it convincingly enough a few times before back when Steven and Marc were still unaware of his existence, acting as one of them whenever something triggered them and he suddenly had to front.

But when you hugged him, he just...froze. It felt as if he was struck by lightning because this was real--you were real. Your heart-wrenching kindness and beauty were all directed towards him, and he was no longer just a pathetic fly on the wall through Steven's eyes.

But how could he be so fucking dumb? He never should've shown himself, he should've stayed away from the apartment even if it took all day and just let Steven deal with the consequences. And yet...he came back.

Because, the absolute truth is, he wanted to meet you. At his very core, he was a selfish bastard who wanted to be with you, no matter the punishment inflicted on him--he inflicts on himself.

But was he really being selfish?

As drastically different as they were, Steven and Marc managed to control their own separate lives. Steven had his job that he despised, but also the comfort of regularly getting a paycheck that provided for his daily needs. Marc was Khonshu's (main) Avatar and as draining as it was, he could still unwind after a long day with a pack of beer and a Chicago Cubs game playing on TV.

And then, of course, there were Moon Knight and Mr. Knight that ultimately tied them together.

But what about Jake? Was he nothing more than a punching bag for Marc and Steven, only seizing command and handling whatever shitshow they got themselves into that they were too weak to finish?

Jake knew that was his job--his purpose. And honestly, it was okay. He cared about the boys, and keeping them safe meant the same for him as well.

...Until you came along. And for the first fucking time, he actually wanted something. Yearned for someone. Just for himself, and not because of anyone else's expectations or demands of him.

He didn't realize it until you came crashing into Steven's--and his--life like some fucking meteorite, but he was empty. And on the extremely rare occasions that Jake was entitled to the body all for himself, he grew tired of being tired from aimlessly hopping bar to bar. Nearly wiping all his fucking memories out with heavy drinks and the need--the desperation--to forget about the problems he deliberately ignores, hides, even for one single measly night through fucking some random stranger he didn't and won't ever care about.

But you weren't a stranger, that was perfectly clear. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months; and here you were now, looking all cute--tempting--wearing Steven's sweatshirt, eating breakfast in his home, as his girlfriend.

Steven's girlfriend. Not Jake's girlfriend.

"Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Steven's words from last night echoed in Jake's head, taunting him. And the ridiculous proposition that followed afterwards, of the two of them sharing you.

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

And maybe, just maybe...Steven's right.

Maybe Jake did deserve you.

But did you deserve him?

"What's got you looking all emo?" Jake's head abruptly whipped around, seeing you with one hand holding the shower curtain open while the other clutched onto a towel covering your body.

Your naked body.

Jake's mouth went dry, completely paralyzed. All he could do was let his eyes scan you from head to toe, undressing you in his mind. He's already seen you last night and he thought he'd be fine just basking you in from Steven's point of view, but oh...he thought dead wrong.

Because now he really wanted to touch you. Feel you. Make you come undone, all because of him. All for him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question came out sharper than he intended it to, eyes narrowing as he watched your gaze drop, shifting on your feet uncertainly along with the tantalizing way you bit your lip.

You seemed to be engaging in a silent war with yourself before you shook your head, straightening up as you dared to meet his eyes and slowly dropped the towel to the floor.

"I told Steven this before, but I prefer to get things over with." You smiled a bit sheepishly, stepping into the shower; the warm drizzle of water helped to thaw the ice cold sensation anxiety gripped you with. "I'm a very impatient woman, Mr. Lockley."

"And you think jumping into the shower completely naked with a man you barely know is the answer to your impatience, señorita?" Jake arched a brow, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, it's not like I can get into the shower with clothes on, right? That's just fucking stupid." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "Besides... It's because I want to get to know you that I'm here."

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, princesa." Jake murmured, his smirk instantly vanishing; that furrowed brows, clenched jaw sternness once more overtaking his striking features as he regarded you. "I'm not your sweet, sensitive little boyfriend. I'm not Steven." He practically hissed out the name, though there was more sadness to it than venom.

"This isn't a game to me, Jake." You stated firmly, standing your ground as you held your chin high and levelled your gaze with his. "None of this is. I take Steven very seriously--I take our relationship very seriously." You paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "And I know, maybe I'm moving too fast, and I totally understand your doubts about this--about me. But I'm not a fucking dumbass. I know you're not Steven and I like you, anyway."

Jake was rarely speechless, but even as his mouth parted to say something--anything--nothing came out. He felt something fall down his cheek, and he wasn't too sure if it was water or the strange liquid that suddenly made his vision all blurry.

But he didn't have much time to ponder on it when your hand gently pressed against his cheek, your eyes kind and full of adoration, the same adoration you always bless Steven with and something Jake believed was only a far-off miracle for him.

"Y/N..." He choked out, glossy dark eyes intently set on you. "I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster, Jake." You were quick to counter, taking a step closer, now being chest to chest with Jake. "You're a part of Steven, and anything--anyone--that's a part of him is beautiful. And you sure as hell deserve to live your own life, too. And, well, if you'll have me..." You blushed, looking down. "...I would really, really like to get to know you better, Jake Lockley."

Silence smothered you, wrapping its invisible claws around your neck, and you now fully understood what people meant when they say something takes forever. You thought it would be easier and much less frightening if the ground actually opened up and swallowed you whole, but Jake finally put you out of your misery, his hand turning off the shower and a low chuckle bubbling out of him.

"Well... Damn." He smirked, cocking his head down at you, though his smug demeanour couldn't mask the rosiness that dusted his cheeks. "You really do like me and Steven, huh, querida? Or maybe it's just your boobs up against me that's convincing me."

"Well, if it's helping you to believe me, then I'm not complaining." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts against him. Both of your breaths stuttered at the close, intimate contact, and you whimpered as his hands landed on your hips, callused fingers squeezing your soft flesh.

"Dios mío..." He growled lowly, his hands slowly, reverently travelling up the curves of your body, leaving a burning wake, before dipping once more and giving your ass a hard smack.

"Ah..!" You gasped, lurching forward, your face bumping against his solid chest. You felt his chest vibrate as a deep laugh rumbled out of him, one hand fisting your hair and pulling your head back.

"I ain't lying when I said I'm not your sweet, sensitive boyfriend." There was mania in his eyes, baring shiny white teeth as he grinned widely at you; like a shark who's smelled blood--your blood--from a mile away, he's set his target and can't be satisfied by anything, anyone else. "Then again, if you could see Steven's thoughts like I can, 'sweet and sensitive' aren't completely accurate for him."

You gulped, but not from fear. You squeezed your thighs together, pupils dilating as you stared up at Jake. "I-I don't mind if you or Steven aren't sweet and sensitive. I wanna be treated nice, but there are plenty of ways 'nice' can be translated to..." You placed a hand on his abs, lips parting as you traced along his taut muscles, looking like some fucking Greek sculpture--a god--with the way his wet body shimmered a divine bronze. "Don't you think so...Papi?"

With no warning, you felt the air get knocked out of you as his lips collided with yours, attacking you; tongues intertwining with a clash of teeth, the moist smack of your lips harmonizing with the vulgar moans Jake drew out of you.

You felt Jake's neediness, the desperation underlying his roughness--as if this was not just the first, but the only time he'd get to kiss you and have you for himself.

As if you'd ever allow for this to be the only time.

Your hands fell to his shoulders, nails breaking his skin and marking him with crescent indents. He groaned as you did, kissing you with even more fervour, fiery passion never ceasing as you both chased after that hellish ecstasy; seizing, bruising, suffocating you.

More, more, more. Giving and taking, taking, taking.

You just could never have enough, clueless as to where you started and Jake ended, Jake's tongue practically down your throat now. You know you needed air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but your body refused.

If this was how you died, then you'd die an elated woman.

But Jake suddenly pulled away from you, making you whine loudly. Your hands pawed at his chest, tears springing to your eyes and your ears couldn't even register the pitiful pleas that tumbled out of your mouth for more, more, more.

"You're such a fucking slut, aren't you, mi amor?" Jake snickered, one hand wrapping around your neck, thumb stroking the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to feel as if your head was floating. "Steven always saw you as this pure, innocent angel. But you're not, aren't you? You wanna be corrupted, don't you? You wanna be my pretty little devil, slut?"

"I'll be anything for you, Papi." You replied breathlessly, tears staining your scarlet cheeks. "Just be my everything."

"I'll be whatever--do whatever--for you, mi vida." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, his earnesty and sweetness cloying. His other hand caressed your face before he leaned down, his tongue licking away your salty tears, a reprieve from the rapturous flames that engulfed him. "Now... What do you want Papi to do?" He purred, smirking wolfishly down at you. "You want me to fuck you? Spread your little virgin pussy, fill you up with my cock? Wanna see how much you can take, cariño. Take all my cum, don't waste a single fucking drop."

As tempting as his filthy words were, as much as you wanted to, you remembered how Steven refused to have sex with you last night. Of his promise that he'll make love to you another time, when he was better prepared with condoms. And fuck, you wanted him--them--so badly. Steven and Jake. But you respected Steven and his decision, and you did also want for your lovemaking to be special.

"Can I taste your cock, Papi?" You asked, biting your lip as you met Jake's gaze shyly. You felt like a mouse and he was the lion, yet you held the power in whatever was going to happen. "I-I promise I'll take it all... Take all your cum, like a good girl."

Jake knew that you chose not to have sex with him out of respect for Steven, and that only made him love you more. He felt a pang in his heart and a smile tugged up the corners of his lips, eyes locking with yours, full of tenderness and affection.

Right then and there, he knew that you were "the one". For him and Steven.

"Get on your knees like a good fucking girl, then." He breathed, and you didn't hesitate as you instantly dropped to your knees, breasts jiggling slightly as you did. Your eyes widened as his cock stood proudly, mere inches away from your face.

"I...I'm sorry if I'm...bad." Your voice came out as a squeak, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "I-I've never done this before!"

"You better have not or else I'll hunt down and kill all the fuckers you've ever been with." He barked out a laugh, but his eyes were dark and serious.

Murder was not something Jake Lockley ever joked about, after all.

Strangely enough, you found his possessiveness...sexy. Which only meant that Jake was already corrupting you.

But was that really such a bad thing?

You shook your head, focusing on the cock--erm, task--at hand. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, hearing Jake breathe sharply through his nose as you did. You licked your lips as you watched the pre-cum drip out of the tip, so curious, so transfixed like a moth to a flame.

Your tongue then darted out, experimentally licking the milky fluid. Jake threw his head back with a guttural groan; you've barely even started, and it made you fucking giddy that he reacted like this.

"Jake..." You murmured, giggling softly. You peered up at him through your long lashes, flashing him a dazzling smile. "You're so beautiful, Jake."

"That ain't something you should call a man, mi vida." Jake scoffed, but the crimson tint on his cheeks have spread like wildfire to the tips of his ears and neck. "Especially not when you're the beautiful one."

"Going soft on me now, Jakey?" You teased lightheartedly, slowly beginning to stroke his length.

Jake's breath hitched, brows furrowing as he watched you intently, attentively. "You really are a little devil, Y/N." He chuckled deeply, and you knew that meant trouble. "You think I'm going soft? Looks like you really have a lot you need to know about me."

Like before, his hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back and making you look up at him. "Open up, slut." And you did, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. You flinched slightly as his cock hit your tongue, his other hand grabbing his member and moving it around on your tongue, painting it white.

"Now you're gonna be a good cocksucker, got it?" He grinned down devilishly at you, eyes twinkling with sheer, wicked glee. "You're gonna make Papi cum, like the good whore that you are."

You nodded hastily, eagerly. And you just couldn't fucking take it anymore, jostling forward and burying his cock in your wet, hot mouth.

"That's. Fucking. It." Jake hissed, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, you began to bob your head, your mouth accommodating his size. You briefly wondered how anyone could ever even compare this to a banana or a popsicle stick; it was much bigger and your jaw started to hurt, which Jake quickly noticed as you tensed.

"Hey, relax." He cooed, reaching down to tenderly wipe away the tears you didn't realize were flowing down your cheeks. "Easy, Y/N. Relax your mouth, loosen up your throat... Fuck, yeah, that's it. Keep going, hermosa."

With newfound confidence and assurance, you gradually increased your pace. You hollowed your cheeks, your tongue sliding along the underside of his cock with each rhythmic bop of your head. Up, down, up, down--Jake's sinful groans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, never breaking eye contact as you burned all of him into memory.

Then your surprised gasp was muffled as his foot pressed against your clit, only offering you a cocky smirk in return.

He began to move his foot, his toes budging your clit and stroking along your pussy. You moaned around his cock, grinding against his foot for more friction. Then his other hand grabbed onto your hair, both of his hands now pushing and pulling your head up, down, up, down--drool spilling down the sides of your mouth, resisting the urge to gag as the tip of Jake's cock pounded your throat, your hands floundering to his thighs as you clung on for dear life.

"Fuck, look at you... Una putita tan bonita solo para mí." He laughed, the thrusts of his hips growing fiercer, more rabid as he mercilessly fucked your throat. "Wanna taste me, mi vida? Think you've earned it?"

All you could do was nod, nod, nod--looking up at him pleadingly as you continued to desperately grind yourself against his foot, your own orgasm fast approaching.

Jake's jeering laughter soon stuttered into a heavy, gasping moan; his eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, hitting the wall. You felt his cock twitch, releasing his seed, shooting down your throat and his balls slamming against your chin.

Your own release coated Jake's foot, your entire body shuddering from the intensity of it all and coughing as Jake finally withdrew his cock out of your mouth. But you didn't have time to revel in the afterglow as Jake's hand wrapped around your neck once more, dragging you up and crashing his lips with yours. You swapped spit and cum, but neither of you cared; the two of you groping, squeezing, clinging onto each other any which way your needy hands could fumble.

You didn't keep track anymore of who pulled away first, laughter ringing in your ears as you both grinned at each other; spent, happy.

The dawn of something new, exciting, promising shining between the two of you.

Wordlessly, Jake turned on the shower again. Then he grabbed the soap, his hands gliding along your smooth skin, his lips attaching to the crook of your neck where he could see the faint pinpricks of his handprint slowly materializing.

"Did I hurt you, mi vida?" As rough of a lover as Jake was, none of his pleasure mattered if you didn't enjoy yourself.

"A little bit." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. "But it's okay. I...liked it." You blushed furiously.

"Fuck..." He grumbled, pulling away and looking very much like a kicked puppy, something that you thought only Steven was a pro at. "As cute as you are blushing like that, princesa, I'm so fucking sorry. I know I should know when to stop, when to be gentle...but those are not really what I'm good at." His eyes drifted down, and you can tell that he had a lot more to say. A lot more to regret. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"I forgive you, Jake. Now please... Stop beating yourself up, okay?" You cupped his face, pecking his nose and meeting his gaze. "I'm not lying when I said I liked it, but don't blame yourself too much. I also should've done something, spoken up if it was too painful for me." Your fingers ran through his hair, smiling softly, lovingly at him. "All of this is new for me--for us. But it's okay, 'cause we can learn together, yeah? And if you'd like, we can come up with a safe word if things get too rough."

Jake hesitated, wondering if you were really telling the truth and not just trying to comfort him. But one look at your sweet, loving smile was more than enough for his worries and doubts to fade away, his own smile gracing his lips and his hands holding your own that were so gently, kindly cupping his face.

"I think that would be great. Any idea what the safe word should be?"

"I was thinking 'Khonshu'." Your answer made Jake snort before he bursted into laughter, you joining shortly after.

"Mi vida, if you say that bastardo's name while we're fucking, you really are gonna make me go soft." He chuckled, pinching your cheek and kissing your forehead.

"Fine, fine! Clearly coming up with a safe word is what I'm not good at. Let's figure it out together." You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling and kissing his cheek. "Anyway, I'll head out first. But don't take too long or else I'll jump in the shower with you again and for the sake of Steven's water expenses, you do not want that happening."

"On one condition, señorita. You have to wear my clothes when you get out, not Steven's." He hummed to which you laughed and nodded, but just as you were about to step out of the shower, Jake suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest.

He leaned down to your ear, voice a low purr as he spoke; like it was a secret, a sacred oath between only the two of you.

"El amor de mi vida, mi salvavidas... Nunca te dejaré ir."

Your lips curled up into a smile, your heart swelling achingly within your chest. You turned around and leaned up on your tiptoes, your lips melting perfectly together with Jake's, becoming one.

"I love you, Jake Lockley." You whispered, sealing your oath. "Now... Don't keep me waiting. You know I'm an impatient woman."

Jake watched with a dumb, lovestruck grin as you pulled away giggling, finally stepping out of the shower and closing the bathroom door behind you. And as soon as you were gone, Jake piped up to the other occupant in the bathroom.

"Steven, ese... I know you're there, might as well say something, huh?"

'Bloody HELL, mate...' Steven's words stumbled out in a rushed, breathless breath. 'That was MENTAL.'

"You're welcome for the free show, ese." Jake chuckled, standing under the spray of the shower as he washed himself off.

Although Jake couldn't see Steven, he knew that the poor, flustered English man was having a damn heart attack at this very moment.

'That was...that was...' Steven was completely at a loss for words, making Jake smirk.

"The hottest fucking thing you've ever seen? Yeah, I know. Y/N's our sexy girlfriend, after all." Jake turned off the shower, hopping out and drying himself off with a towel. "You're right, by the way. We're both absolutely fucked."

'I'm just glad it all worked out, mate.' Steven replied, relief and happiness flooding his voice. 'You deserve her. WE deserve her. It's just...' He trailed off, sighing deeply. 'Now that I think about it, I'm worried about Marc.'

"Fuck Marc." Jake snapped, his eyes settling on the mirror, Steven's reflection staring back at him with an anxious crease between his brows and lips downturned. "We deserve to live our own lives, too, Steven. That cabrón's just gonna have to deal with it."

And deal with it, Marc will. But...

You'll have to deal with Marc, too.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Smut #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Marc Spector #Steven Grant Smut #Jake Lockley Smut #Marc Spector Smut #Steven Grant x Reader #Jake Lockley x Reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Steven Grant x Reader Smut #Jake Lockley x Reader Smut #Marc Spector x Reader Smut #Reader x Steven Grant #Reader x Jake Lockley #Reader x Marc Spector #Reader x Steven Grant Smut #Reader x Jake Lockley Smut #Reader x Marc Spector Smut #Oscar Isaac

[vodika-vibes]

Did You Know? - A Request from @wax-birds

Summary: You've been the Batch's medic since well before the Jedi Purge happens, and it just made sense to stick with them when they defected. Recently, Tech's been going out of his way to tell you random facts, and at first you were confused, but you're starting to understand what his game is.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 1618

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is close to what you wanted. I made up the planet, but I think the bird is an actual thing in the Star Wars verse...I didn't actually do any research, lol.

“Did you know,” You lift your gaze from your datapad to look at Tech, who’s standing awkwardly in the door to your area of the marauder, “the Morai birds mate for life and should their mate pass they remain in the nest waiting for them to return.”

“I…was not aware of that.” You say, “I also didn’t know that you were interested in the mating practices of birds.”

“Ah, well,” He nervously rubs the back of his neck, “I am interested in a wide range of topics.”

Amusement lifts your lips into a smile, “And your fixation for the week is birds?” You tease very gently.

“They are very brightly colored.” Tech offers, “And are native to the planet we are about to visit.” He hesitates, “And I remembered that you have a Morai tattoo.”

“Aww, Tech.” You clasp your hands under your chin, “You’re sweet, learning things about my favorite animals simply because they’re my favorite.”

“I…well, not solely for you. Omega had questions-”

“I DID NOT!” Omega shouts from the next room.

Tech ignores her with the long practice of an older brother, “And then I remembered your tattoo-”

Omega appears next to him, her face is scrunched up, “Stop lying! You looked that stuff up specifically-mmph!” Tech slaps his hand over Omega’s mouth, stopping her from talking.

“Thank you, Omega.”

Your gaze flickers from the annoyed preteen, to Tech, and then back again. “Well then, if neither of you are injured, I need to get back to work.”

Omega pulls Tech’s hand away from her mouth, “Tech just hit me!”

“I did no such thing.”

“I have bruises!”

“You do not.”

“I want you to arrest him!” Omega declares dramatically as she points at her brother.

“I’m a medic, Meg, not a cop.” You reply with a small grin, “You want someone to punish him for hitting you, go to Hunter.”

“Maybe I will!” Omega says loudly, before she rounds on her heel, “Hunter!”

“Why would you tell her that?” Tech asks with a sigh.

You wink at him, “Well, if you get hurt, it means that you get one on one attention, doesn’t that sound fun?”

Tech averts his eyes, but a small smile lifts the corner of his lips, “I suppose it does not sound…awful.” He finally says as he catches your gaze, for a moment, just a moment, there’s something hot and needy in his gaze, before it’s quickly banked, and he turns away from you. “I will leave you to your work. We will be landing on Mora in three days.”

You know your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You know what you saw. And you are very, very interested.

And so you flash a small smile, even as a plan starts forming in your mind, “I’ll be ready.”

Tech glances at you one more time, and then slips out of your workspace just as Hunter shouts for him, and you muffle your laugh. Sometimes, a lot of times, the men you travel with are so obviously brothers that it’s hilarious.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you heard Echo and Wrecker arguing over Wrecker stealing some of Echo’s snacks only a little bit ago.

Still, you wouldn’t trade this job for any other medical career in the galaxy.

After all, where else would an incredibly handsome man flirt with you using bird facts?

Three days later, the Marauder lands on Mora, and you, with your medical kit slung over your shoulder, and your camera in hand, couldn’t be more excited.

“Alright,” Hunter says, getting everyone’s attention. “It looks like we have five different places we need to visit.”

“It’ll be faster if we split up,” You offer reasonably, “Using the buddy system, of course.” You add once you see the look on Hunter’s face. “And naturally, I won’t be paired off with Omega, since we’re both harmless.”

“I have a crossbow,” Omega reminds you with a pout.

“Ah, right. My mistake.”

“So that means you’re the only one here who’s harmless.” Echo teases as he bumps you with his shoulder.

“Yeah, well…before all else, do no harm, etc, etc-” You reply with a grin, as you bump him right back.

“Anyway,” Hunter interrupts, “Splitting up and using the buddy system isn’t a terrible idea. I’ll go with Omega. Tech-”

“I do not mind going with the doctor,” He interrupts, “As I understand, one of these locations has medical equipment she needs to inspect.”

Hunter looks at him, disbelievingly. 

“It’s not a bad idea,” You offer cheerfully, “If anything is broken, I might not notice right away.”

Hunter turns his disbelieving gaze on you next, and you just beam at him. 

“Fine. Tech and the Doc are going together. Which leaves Echo and Wrecker.” Hunter says, “Any complaints? Good. Omega, come on.”

You grin as the other groups walk off in different directions, and then you turn your gaze on Tech, who’s watching you with a small smile on his lips, “Shall we?” You ask.

“It should not take that long to get the equipment that we need.” He agrees, as he turns in the direction of the shop, and then waits for you to fall into step next to him. 

“It shouldn’t,” You agree, “The longest part will really be you making sure that the equipment looks like it’s in working order.” 

He glances at you, “You really would not be able to determine if the gear was in working order?”

“Of course I’d be able to tell. I just wanted to spend time with you.” You reply with an unrepentant grin.

“O-oh.”

You cheerfully take his hand in yours and you lace your fingers with his, “Anyway, once we have the stuff delivered to the ship, we can look around on our own. I need a new jacket.”

Tech is staring at your joined hands, as if he’s not sure what to make of it, and then he slowly squeezes your hand, and is rewarded with a blinding grin. The moment he realizes that it’s intentional, some of the nervous tension drains from him. “Is there something wrong with your jacket?”

“Well…no. Not really.” You shrug, “It just doesn’t match.”

“...What does it not match?”

You sigh, “You and your brothers. My leather jacket is white! It needs to be darker so I actually look like I belong.”

“You do belong.” Tech says, “You are the most important member of the squad.”

“We both know that’s not true.” You say with a laugh.

“It is true,” Tech insists, “We would be lost several times over without you.”

“Aww, you’re sweet.”

“I am honest.” Tech replies, “You have saved all of our lives on many occasions. We owe you everything.” He pauses, “And I prefer it when you wear white. It makes it easier to see you on the battlefield.”

“That’s not necessarily a good thing.” You point out as the pair of you come to a stop in front of the shop that’s holding the medical equipment that you need to look at.

Tech doesn’t reply right away as he enters the shop, “I think you look nice in white.” He finally says and then he turns his attention towards the shopkeeper and offers the name on the order.

Inspecting the machines takes a lot longer than you would prefer. A lot longer than Tech would prefer too, based on the look on his face, but there’s no way around it. Cid would have your heads if any of the machines were damaged in any way.

But finally, finally, you’re able to confirm the delivery, and you slump against Tech, exhausted. “This is the worst job ever.” You whine.

Tech glances at you, “Well, we are done now.”

“Until Cid gives us another job.” You grumble, and then you lay your cheek against his shoulder, “We used to fight for the good of the Republic, this work is demeaning.”

“But Cid does pay us,” Tech reminds you quietly, “Which is what we need.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Yeah, I guess.”

You take his hand again, and then tug him away from the shop. “Where are we going?” Tech asks, though he doesn’t seem to have any problems with trailing after you.

You just grin at him, and tug him down an alley. “I wanted to go somewhere private.” You reply once you’re not surrounded by people.

“For what purpose?” Tech asks.

“For this one.” You stand on your toes and brush your lips against his, before you pull away, “I don’t know if maybe I’m misreading things-” You murmur, though you’re not able to finish your sentence, as he tugs you against him and crashes his lips against yours. 

One of his hands slides up into your hair, while the other tightly grips your hips, pulling you as close as he can. And when he breaks the kiss, his lips hovering just over yours, you can’t help but grin, “I take it I wasn’t misreading then?” You ask.

“I do not think you ever have.” Tech admits.

“Go me,” Your smile is soft and warm, “Hey, Tech?”

“Hm?”

“Did you know that I think about you all the time?” He blinks at you, startled, “And that I would be really, really happy if you loved me as much as I love you?”

“And here I thought that I was being obvious.” Tech murmurs, before he kisses you again and again, “Of course I feel the same way. Or else I would not be kissing you.”

You grin and lightly kiss him again.

“Did you know,” Tech says quietly, “That I think about you all of the time too?”

At that a bubbly laugh falls from your lips, “I do now.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | winter special

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives?

OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car 🙃 (It’s set about 1,5 years after friendcation ended) 🙂

it's obviously part of a series, but it can totally be read as a standalone oneshot (though there's some jokes you might not get, but that's all).

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)

Other characters: Jimin 😇 + the rest of the gang makes an appearance at the end too 💜

AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, pregnancy!au, established relationship, married!au, mechanic!Yoongi, holiday!au.

Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff

Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings (general) + triggers: sex while pregnant, minor car accident, a lot of crack and humor too, because otherwise it wouldn’t be friendcation. Slight angst. Possessive Yoongi. Jimin deserves a warning too 👀 (it’s always Jimin)! Giving birth in a car in a somewhat detailed description (without medical help). Breastfeeding a baby. A lot of kissing.

Warnings (explicit): smut in the form of unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, breast play, nipple play (with a little bit of lactation), flashing/exposure of vagina and boobs, comfort sex (Yoongi making sure OC is comfortable the whole time 🥺), strong orgasms, blood (because of childbirth, but barely mentioned).

Author’s note: this couple just wouldn’t leave me alone 😂 So here we are, with a winter special. I really hope you like it. It was so fun to write, I just love their relationship and then also with their friends, especially Jimin 🤭 I might do more specials through time, I don’t know. Don’t know if people are interested (but I’d probably write it anyway, lol). Like, we still don’t know how Yoongi proposed, their wedding, their honeymoon 👀

This has different povs, mainly Yoongi's, then Jimin's and reader's (I hope it isn't too confusing).

Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **if you wish to be removed from the taglist, let me know 🌸

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.

He is used to it.

But ever since you became pregnant, it’s been getting worse.

Your sleep moaning, that is.

And it’s always turning him on.

His frustration simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the magnetic allure you effortlessly wield. Yet, with a single glance from you, his resolve melts away like butter on a warm summer day. This magnetic power you wield over him isn't a recent revelation; it's been your enchanting spell, cast long before that memorable camping trip more than a year ago.

Memories surge like a tidal wave, setting his irises ablaze with vivid snapshots of you both, entwined amidst the intimate cocoon of his van, sheets tangled in the echoes of passion.

Countless adventures and camping escapades have unfolded since that fateful journey with your friends, yet it's the kaleidoscope of memories created with you that he holds as precious treasures, each moment a vibrant gem in the tapestry of your relationship.

At last, his gaze shifts towards you, and he beholds the tranquility that graces your sleeping form, nestled beside him. There you lie, on your back nonetheless, which really mustn't be nice considering your big belly.

You’re almost nine months pregnant and the baby can come any minute, he knows.

You’d been trying to conceive for some time, a delightful excuse to have sex all the damn time–although, truth be told, he never needed one.

He feels his dick strain against the confines of his boxers and he wonders  whether to rouse you from slumber, it's not merely the urgency of his arousal but the genuine concern for your well-being—your supine position hindering blood flow and oxygen to the precious life within your belly. 

Thus, with a tender touch, he delicately stirs you from your peaceful slumber.

Initially met with silence, your slumbering form stirs slightly, emitting a soft murmur of both moans and snores.

A soft chuckle escapes him as he observes your endearing response, yet undeterred, he persists in gently prodding you.

In a hushed and tender tone, he attempts to reach out to you with a gentle “Babe,” his voice a delicate whisper, carrying the weight of affection.

As your head gracefully pivots towards him, your eyes, like delicate butterflies, flutter open in response to the gentle call. A soft smile graces his lips, a silent serenade to the gradual awakening of your consciousness.

As consciousness fully embraces you, your eyes roam the dimly lit room before finding solace in his gaze.”Why did you wake me? It’s the middle of the night…” you inquire, the bedroom's shadows bearing witness to the query that hangs in the air.

With a gentle yawn, you pivot your body, settling into the comforting curve of your side. In the quiet accomplishment of this subtle shift, one of his cherished missions finds completion.

In a tender tone infused with love, he begins, “You were sleeping on your back. It’s not good for the baby,” his words a gentle caress carrying the weight of concern for the precious life cradled within your belly.

A warmth infuses your smile as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of gratitude for the depth of his concern and the wellspring of love that envelops you both.

And with a playful chuckle lacing his words, he adds, “And you were moaning too.” Your laughter joins his, and you both know what this means.

“You’re always horny, Yoon.” you tease, your hands exploring the contours of his body with purpose. Swiftly finding the elastic of his boxers, you trace the outline of his dick with a deliberate touch, a dance of desire that unfolds seamlessly between you.

Your hand glides sensually over him, a teasing caress through the fabric of his boxers, and a guttural groan of pleasure escapes his lips.

He seizes your hand, bringing a pause to the tantalizing dance between you. “Do you want to, babe?” he inquires, his gaze a reflection of both restraint and anticipation, hanging on the unspoken words between you.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, your body and mind fully alive, the air already charged with the unmistakable electricity that Yoongi seems to effortlessly ignite within you. You’re already soaked in your panties, and with a whispered moan, you confess, “Yes, I need you Yoongi.”

Gently guiding your hand away from his cock, he inches closer, turning you to lay on your side facing away from him.

Swiftly seizing his pillow, he artfully tucks it beneath the gentle curve of your belly, sculpting a cocoon of support and comfort.

Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, savoring the heady and intoxicating essence that is uniquely yours. It's more than a fragrance; it's a potent elixir that courses through him, a sensory drug that elicits an involuntary response—a subtle, primal twitch in the fabric of boxers.

A low, guttural moan escapes his lips, intimately shared in the cocoon of your embrace, as he senses your shiver echo through his touch.His skilled hand embarks on a journey, tenderly caressing your breasts, lingering over the soft expanse of your tummy where the fluttering life within makes its presence known. As his exploration ventures lower, he cups your pussy outside your panties.

Your hips undulate into his dick, a rhythmic dance that draws an involuntary duet of pleasure-laden moans from both of you. His awareness sharpens, attuned to the undeniable evidence of your arousal. With a deliberate touch, he tugs your panties aside, revealing your drenched pussy.

Initiating a delicate exploration, he trails his fingertips along the contours of your folds, gathering the essence of your arousal before skillfully guiding a single digit into the velvety warmth of your desire.

With a rhythmic precision, he starts a sensual dance, his digit sliding in and out of your eager core. Each movement draws forth an increasing symphony of heavy pants, and he can already hear that you’re not gonna last long.

Adding another skilled finger, he intensifies the intimate pleasure, a seamless union of sensation as your bodies synchronize in a provocative dance. Your backside grinds into the rigid length of his desire, fueling his fervor to push the limits further. With an escalating pace, his fingers move within you, a crescendo of pleasure building with every adept stroke.

Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you urgently plead, “I'm so close, Yoongi. Touch my clit instead,” your voice a desperate plea. He complies with a deft move, withdrawing his slickened fingers from the depths of your core to redirect their attention, skillfully navigating the peaks of your pussy with an intoxicating dance against your throbbing clit.

Yoongi has become attuned to the cadence of your breath, a masterful symphony that he has memorized like the back of his hand. In the harmonious rhythm, he discerns the telltale signs that you are on the precipice of ecstasy—so close that the intoxicating anticipation hangs in the air like an electric charge.

His fingers move in a tantalizing dance, tracing circles around your clit with an intimate familiarity. As he senses you teetering on the brink, your breaths hang heavy in the charged air, and the ethereal moans escape your lips like a whispered melody. In a bold move, he pinches your clit. Your body responds in an electric surge, tension radiating through every inch of your being, held in the exquisite grip of his deliberate touch.

Returning to the rhythmic circles on your clit, he guides you through the waves of your orgasm, a seismic tremor that reverberates through your being. Each stroke of his touch acts as a steady anchor, grounding you in the aftermath of what feels like an earth-shattering climax.

You gasp for air, your breaths coming in furious bursts, and in a voice drawn out with need, you moan his name—a melody of pleasure that lingers in the charged air between you.

“'Fuck!” escapes you in a guttural moan, your hands clenching into fists under the watchful gaze of his darkened, appreciative eyes. 

Withdrawing his hand from the depths of your core, he endeavors to temper the tempestuous movements coursing through you, a steadying touch anchoring your fervent reactions with a gentle grip on your hips. 

“'Damn. It's like the orgasm is lingering,” you confess in a strained voice, leaving Yoongi uncertain whether to interpret it as a blissful prolongation or a potential intensity that might overwhelm you. 

“What do you mean?” he inquires, his voice a warm breath against your neck.

“It's just... I can feel it all the way around my stomach,” you pant, the lingering sensations creating a unique symphony within you. “Ah, it's probably Braxton Hicks contractions, because of the orgasm,” you assert with a newfound certainty. In response, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment, his hand delicately finding its place on your belly, where he can feel the subtle tightness.

“Are you sure it’s just that?” he questions, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow. Yet, as your assurance unfolds, a palpable relaxation courses through the muscles of your belly. “Yeah, they're fading now,” you confirm.

“Yoongi, I need you inside me now,” you declare, your words a sultry plea as you sensually grind your ass into the rigid bulge within his boxers. 

With a sharp intake of breath, he hisses, seizing your hips in a possessive grip, molding you against the heat of his pelvis.

Effortlessly, he peels your panties down your thighs, and you willingly lift your legs to aid in their complete removal. As he holds the damp evidence of your arousal in his hand, a wicked glint in his eyes betrays the realization, damn they are soaked. Without a second thought, he discards them to the floor.

“'Is this position comfortable for you?” he tenderly inquires, a gentle concern threading through his words as he sheds his boxers. Adjusting his position, he moves slightly, aligning himself with the contours of your core from behind.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Lying down and approaching from behind, the fit feels unusually snug. Yoongi, with deliberate intent, spreads your ass cheeks, his hand tracing a teasing path before he strokes his arousal, the anticipation building. As he aligns with the entrance to your core, a slow and deliberate entrance ensues, eliciting a moan from you.

An almost primal growl escapes your lips as he sinks in, each agonizingly slow inch a delicious torment. It's not just amazing; it's an exquisite tightness that makes you acutely aware of his presence, as if you can feel him reverberating through every fiber of your being, from the deepest reaches of your pussy to the intimate confines of your uterus.

Yoongi indulges in a series of deliberate thrusts, each movement a slow dance that unveils the exquisite tightness enveloping him. With each rhythmic advance into your core, he keenly senses the escalating tension in your body.

“Yoon,” you pant, the syllables a breathless plea that lingers in the charged air. Yoongi, attuned to your every reaction, halts his movements, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I can feel you everywhere inside, fuck.”

“Is it good, or should we stop?” he asks, a genuine concern etched across his features. His desire is not just for pleasure but for your comfort and satisfaction.

“No, it's good for now, but I'll let you know if it gets too intense, okay? Maybe we can change positions then?” you inquire, your voice a sultry whisper that hangs in the air. As you sensually grind your ass down into his pelvis, fucking yourself on his cock, a soft moan leaves your lips.

Yoongi releases a low, guttural moan against the sensitive skin of your neck, his reverberating pleasure mingling with lust between you. His hand journeys down the curve of your hips, gripping them with a possessive urgency. In this tactile exchange, he finds stability, a grounding force that allows him to drive into you once more, each thrust a testament to the fervor building between you.

As you surrender completely against him, a harmonious synchrony of pleasure unfolds. Sensing the shift, he accelerates his thrusts, a rhythmic dance that quickens the desire between you. 

Yoongi inhales deeply against the canvas of your neck, and in a sudden, electrifying twist, you feel the graze of his teeth. Your body shivers with anticipation, and then he descends, sinking his teeth into your neck. Not too forcefully, but with a compelling intensity that sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your body responds in kind, grinding against his, and a sinful moan escapes you.

Then, with a sensual grace, he traces the path where his teeth had left their mark, his tongue delicately caressing your neck before placing soft, lingering kisses. Your response is a sultry mewl, the audible manifestation of pleasure, and in the electric aftermath, you feel a surge of arousal saturate his dick.

Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you gasp, “Yoongi, I'm—,” the words trailing off into a passionate pant as he skillfully drives into you, each thrust an artful symphony of pleasure that transcends language, leaving you teetering on the edge of bliss.

“Hmm?”

His grip on your hips tightens, and with each deeper thrust, the world around you seems to blur as you swear that, despite the physical limitations of the position, you can feel him everywhere. It's an overwhelming sensation, almost too much.

“I want to change positions,” you pant, and in an instant, Yoongi withdraws, his response swift and attentive. With a purposeful motion, he turns you around, orchestrating a seamless transition that repositions you to face him once again.

“What do you want to do?” he smiles, his gaze tender as he caresses your cheek with the gentle strokes of his long, slender fingers. In the delicate dance of his touch, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and appreciation.

“I want to ride you,” you confess, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. As you pull away, a playful smile dances across your face, your eyes reflecting a potent mix of love and lust.

“Fuck, yeah, babe,” he breathes in eager agreement, turning to lie on his back. As you discard the pillow he thoughtfully fetched for you, you proceed to shed your nightgown, leaving both of you completely bare.

With a graceful motion, you hike one leg over his body, settling into a commanding straddle. Your hand confidently takes hold of his dick, aligning it with the eager warmth of your pussy again. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze down at him, relishing the empowering intimacy of having him beneath you in this moment.

His smile mirrors the adoration and appreciation he feels as he takes in every incredible feature of yours. As you descend slowly onto his cock, your face flushes a subtle shade of red, your quivering lips betraying the intensity of your desire. Your nipples stand proudly, and your gracefully rounded belly hangs low, a testament to the life you’ve both created and soon to welcome into the world.

God he loves you. So fucking much. In his eyes, you’re a goddess.

As you lower yourself onto his dick, a duet of moans escapes both of you, the soft stretch heightening the sensory experience. The angle of this position enhances the feeling, and in the synchronized exchange of pleasure, you both revel in the palpable sensation that binds you together.

“Fuck, Yoon!” you pant, the breathless exclamation escaping your lips as you reach the apex of his pelvis, his cock filling you up completely. 

“'Ah! It's so much better like this,” you moan, the words dripping with satisfaction and pleasure as you take control, beginning to ride him with a rhythmic motion. 

Yoongi's hands find purchase on your hips, their firm grasp not only steadying you but becoming an integral part of the rhythmic dance as you bounce on his dick. 

It's undeniably exquisite, the sensation heightened by the captivating sight of you taking control, sending Yoongi into a feral state of desire. The raw power of your dominance, setting the pace and depth, fuels an irresistible fire within him. Your expressions—those eyes closing in lust, the whimpering pleas—seemingly unravel his restraint, threatening to push him over the edge. 

“You look so good, bouncing on my dick. Such a good girl,” he pants, the words imbued with a husky appreciation. His hands, slightly squeezing your hips, become a tactile affirmation, letting you know that every movement is not just good but exceptionally arousing. 

You keen in response to his praise, a melodious symphony of pleasure that resonates in the air. Empowered by the encouragement, you guide yourself down deeper, every movement an exquisite dance that intensifies the feeling of being incredibly full.

“Yoongi, I don't think I'm gonna last long,” you pant, the admission hanging in the air like an electrifying confession. Sensing the imminent climax, you slow your movements, the deliberate deceleration amplifying the anticipation.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you, “I’m not going to either.”

You chuckle at him, the sound a melodic blend of pleasure and fatigue as you continue to bounce on his arousal. “I'm also so damn tired. This is challenging with my belly being this big,”

“I can take over if you want—or we can try another position?” His offer is laced with genuine concern, a desire to ensure you don't strain or tire yourself unnecessarily. 

“No! I love this. I want to ride you,” you moan, the words a passionate declaration as you sink down on him once more. The anticipation of your impending orgasm begins to unfurl in the depths of your stomach.

“Yoongi—, I'm close,” you pant, the admission a breathless revelation as you continue to move at a languid pace, the enticing rhythm showcasing the delightful bounce of your tits with each motion.

He has always been captivated by the allure of your tits—a mesmerizing aspect of your physicality that leaves him in awe. A part of him remains undecided, caught in the delightful dilemma of whether he prefers your tits or your ass, a choice he'd willingly forego, harboring a fervent desire for both.

Your hands find purchase on his sculpted pectorals, seeking support as exhaustion sets in, causing your movements to slow, each languid motion bringing you closer to climax. His gaze lingers on your face, a canvas painted with the intensity of the moment—sweat glistening, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows creased in ecstasy as you fervently ride him, lost in the rhythmic dance of pleasure.

He senses a primal twitch within as he stays deep within you, and his gaze traces a path down your neck where the evidence of his love bite remains visible. Continuing his journey, his eyes appreciate the sight of your wonderful, bouncy tits.

Withdrawing both of his hands from your hips, they now tenderly grasp both of your tits. “These are so wonderful, as is every part of you,” he murmurs in a voice laced with appreciation.

You feel the walls of your pussy contract in response to his words of praise, a cascading sensation that culminates in a soft moan, his name escaping your lips like a whispered melody. 

He caresses your tits, their softness, fullness, and weight filling his palms with a tangible desire. As his hands explore, he discovers your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers in a delicate dance of pleasure.

“Yoongi!” A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the fervent cry echoing in the charged atmosphere as you throw your head back, surrendering to the pleasure of sinking down on him once more. 

He luxuriates in the splendor of your beauty, every facet of your amazing body a source of enchantment. Everything about you accelerates the rhythm of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach multiplying with each passing moment. 

He gives a gentle tug on your nipple, sending a surge of sensations through your body like an electric current, a simultaneous feeling of warmth and chill enveloping you in a paradoxical embrace.

You sense a delightful tingling sensation rippling across your entire body, a prelude to an impending climax that hovers tantalizingly on the edge.

“Shit, Yoongi, I think I'm gonna come,” you moan, the admission carrying the weight of impending ecstasy.

He grunts in response, the primal sound echoing the urgency of his own impending release. “I'm close too.”

You start to sense a delightful tightness in your breasts, with Yoongi skillfully alternating between rolling your nipples, tugging, and pinching them. The exquisite play on your sensitive peaks sends shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, you become acutely aware of the wetness between your thighs, a slippery testament to the overwhelming arousal that courses through your body.

The sound of skin on skin slapping resonates through the air, a visceral percussion that punctuates the charged atmosphere. The noise sends a jolt through your body, causing your muscles to tense in response.

The tingling and prickling sensation in your breasts intensifies, creating a crescendo of arousal that surges through your body. Then, in a sudden release, you feel the pressure in them subside, a wave of pleasure ebbing away like a tide.

Yoongi watches in awe as a gush of milk shoots out of your tits, creating a mesmerizing display that soon turns into a sensuous drip. His finger skillfully rolls your nipples, the fluid covering them and your tits in a glistening sheen of your breastmilk. Fuck it’s hot. He feels his dick twitch again, as he keeps looking at your tits.

You sense a wetness on your breasts and instinctively glance down, only to be met with a wave of horror as you realize you've begun lactating. In an instant, you cover your bobs, a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. The sudden shift in your body leaves you feeling vulnerable and a bit grossed out.

“I'm so sorry,” you begin, breathless words escaping your lips as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick. 

“You don't have to be sorry, babe. It's natural and sexy,” he reassures you with a loving smile, a genuine attempt to dispel any insecurity. His eyes, filled with both warmth and desire, convey a message beyond words—that he not only doesn't mind but finds the situation undeniably hot. 

“Please let me touch them,” he pleads with a rare vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor. 

You take a moment to contemplate, acknowledging that while you might not find it as inherently sexy as he does, the arousal sparked by his desire for you is undeniably enticing. Embracing the vulnerability, you lean in and press your tits closer to his face, your tummy meeting his, as you concede with a whispered “okay.” 

You release your breasts from your grasp, and like a magnet seeking its counterpart, his hands find them once more. With deliberate tenderness, he begins to massage your tts, each slow and deliberate stroke creating ripples of pleasure that resonate through your body. 

As you move up and down on his length, the kaleidoscope of emotions—love, lust, and adoration—mirrored in Yoongi's eyes sends a shiver down your spine. In that charged moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you feel like you could die a happy woman. 

His fingers resume their dance, skillfully rolling your nipples and coating them with the warm fluid of your breast milk.

With a newfound determination, you pick up the pace, fervently chasing the brink of your orgasm. Yoongi, fully immersed in the moment, continues to fondle your tits with an affectionate touch.

“Ah! Yoongi, it's so good!” you moan with a symphony of pleasure as you lower yourself onto him, and in response, he tugs a little harder on your nipples.

“Fuck,” you pant, breathless, the sensation of being so thoroughly filled with desire and pleasure overwhelming your senses.

As your stomach tightens, the internal coil finally springs free, and you unleash your slick juices on his dick. A surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering your vision blurry, a temporary blindness overcome by the intensity of pleasure. A strange ringing noise fills your ears, and your body collapses against Yoongi's in a state of blissful surrender.

With remarkable speed, he intercepts your naked form before it collides with him, his strong and firm hands seizing your hips to anchor you on top of him. 

You man fervently, the echoes of your climax still reverberating through your body. In the throes of your descent from ecstasy, a desperate plea escapes your lips, “Yoongi, please fcuk me.”

With a firm grip on your hips, he squeezes them again, initiating a rapid and relentless pace of thrusting into you. The urgency in his movements mirrors the crescendo of desire building within him as he fervently chases his own impending orgasm. 

Fuck, it was hot to witness you unravel in such ecstasy. The lingering sensation of your walls pulsating around his dick lingers, as if you're tightly embracing him, and he revels in it. Being inside you, outside you, every facet of connection with you fuels a deep and insatiable love within him. 

“Fuck, babe – you’re so tight!” he moans in pure delight. As you sit up, a newfound intensity in your movements, your hands find your tits, skillfully rolling your nipples, and a rivulet of breast milk drips out. Fuck. That will be his undoing.

“Ah, babe—,” he moans your name with a drawn-out, languid tone, his eyes unable to tear away from the sinful allure of your face and the captivating sight of your incredible tits. 

Inexplicably, your walls continue to throb around him, coaxing an unbridled release from him. A guttural moan of your name escapes his lips, a primal declaration of the intensity of the moment, synchronized with the eruption of his warm seed, cascading into the depths of your pulsating pussy. 

“Fuck!” he pants, his thrusts persisting a few times before he deftly lifts you, positioning you higher on his stomach. In the aftermath of shared ecstasy, both of you lost in the haze of pleasure, the residue of your combined orgasms coats and binds you together, a slick and intimate testament to the intensity of lust.

“Ah…” you moan, a sultry melody escaping your lips as you descend into Yoongi's embrace. Despite the undertones of desire that lace your voice, he can't help but wonder what might be amiss as he sees pain etched in your face.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he inquires, his gaze locking onto your lustful eyes as he seeks to unravel the secrets veiled behind their desire-laden depths.

“I think I’m still orgasming,” you pant, rising once more, “it’s like my body won’t stop.” A shared gaze lingers between you, uncertainty flickering in both your eyes as the lingering waves of pleasure blur the lines between ecstasy and the unknown.

“Is it good or bad though?” he probes, a furrow forming on his brow as he attempts to unravel the mystery. “It’s not bad, but my tummy feels so tight,” your hand guides his to the firmness, and indeed, it does feel tight.

“Hmmm…” he contemplates the peculiar situation, his curiosity piqued but not overly concerned. “I’ll grab some towels and clean us up. Let’s wait a moment to see if it subsides, alright?”

You nod at him, then gracefully ease down from his lap, sprawling on your side, the remnants of passion and desire lingering in the air as you continue to pant for the sweet breath of satisfaction.

Yoongi gracefully rises from the bed, navigating the darkness of the night with an innate sense of purpose. He effortlessly locates your bathroom, skillfully secures a handful of towels, and returns to your bedroom with a quiet assurance, the dim shadows highlighting his silhouette as he prepares to tend to your shared aftermath.

“Here—, I–” With a sudden urgency, he tosses the towels aside as his eyes widen at the sight of you. Your figure is curled in on itself, hands instinctively cradling your stomach, every muscle in your body taut and tense.

“Yoongi, I think I’m in labor,” you declare, the gravity of the moment reflected not just in your words but also in the silent agony etched across your face, a shared understanding mirrored in the intensity of his gaze.

And then it hits him like a tidal wave; the tightness in your tummy was contractions. A surge of realization floods over him—shit, it’s happening. You're having your baby. In the whirlwind of emotions, he battles to remain calm, to steady himself for the pivotal moments ahead.

“Okay. Let's time the contractions and then call the hospital, okay?” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice, frantically searching for his phone on the nightstand.

“Let me know the moment you sense the beginning of a contraction,” he instructs, poised to start the timer.

“Right now,” you gasp, clutching your stomach tightly. The sensation grips you, an intense pressure, especially at the apex, and then, moments later, it releases. “It’s gone now.”

“Almost a minute,” he observes, his tone laden with the realization that you're edging closer to the throes of labor.

“Describe them to me. Are they intense? The pain worries me, seeing you in discomfort tears me apart,” he inquires, genuine concern etched across his face as he tries to understand what you're going through.

“Just a hint of pain, nothing unbearable. I can handle it,” you reassure with a soft chuckle, a resilient spirit shining through despite the discomfort, and he finds solace in your strength.

“Let's keep an eye on the contractions for about an hour, and then we'll give the hospital a call,” he suggests, retrieving the towels scattered on the floor earlier with a sense of urgency.

“While we wait, let me take care of you,” he proposes, coming closer with a towel. Gently lifting one of your legs, he begins to clean you, erasing the traces of our orgasms.

Your body quivers in response to his tender touch, eliciting delicate moans that dance in the air.

“Fuck. I don’t know why, but it’s turning me on, Yoon.” You moan softly, unable to explain the unexpected arousal, but your body instinctively grinds against the towel, turning a simple act into a sensual dance of lust.

A playful chuckle escapes him as he tends to your aftermath, skillfully cleaning you up. Satisfied with the tender care he has given you, he proceeds to clean himself up. Together, you reclaim your clothing, sitting down in your bed anxiously waiting for your contractions to pick up. 

As the cadence of contractions quickens, Yoongi takes decisive action, reaching out to the hospital to announce the fact that you’re in labor. With a voice poised between urgency and excitement, he navigates the conversation, detailing the progression of your contractions over the past hour. He wants to know how you should proceed.

As anticipation swirls in the air like a palpable force, Yoongi's voice resonates with a newfound sense of joy. “They've given us the green light to drive to the hospital,” he announces, his eyes reflecting the shared excitement. As you both perch on the edge of the bed, he turns to you with a practical inquiry, “Where did you stash your hospital bag?”

Your gesture guides him to the dresser, and with a graceful sweep, Yoongi retrieves your carefully prepared hospital bag. His voice, a comforting melody, invites you to join him, “Come, we can go now.”

Guiding you with a gentle hand, Yoongi accompanies you to the entryway of your home, a silent pact of shared determination. The darkness outside, coupled with the December chill, calls for the practicality of boots and a warm coat.

Assertively reaching for Yoongi's car keys, you declare, “I can drive.” The shift in Yoongi's expression is so abrupt, it's as if you've caught a fleeting glimpse of a storm cloud on a clear day, the sour twist on his face a testament to the unexpectedness of your statement.

His voice takes on a stern edge, swiftly denying your attempt to take the wheel. Yoongi snatches the keys from your grasp, his firm tone leaving no room for negotiation. “It’s not safe for you to drive in the midst of contractions,” he insists, a protective glint in his eyes amplifying the weight of his concern.

“But it’s not that bad,” you argue, why, you don’t really know.

“Look, babe. I know you can do everything by yourself, you’re strong, and I love you for it. But you’re not driving the car,” he says with a tone that brooks no argument, a gentle firmness underlining his love and concern for your well-being.

As you both prepare and the keys find their place in Yoongi's firm grip, you swing the door wide open, only to be greeted by a blanket of white—the snow-draped landscape stretching across the grass, road, and your car. To top it off, gentle snowflakes dance down from the heavens. Fuck.

“Ugh, it’s going to take forever driving into the city in this weather,” you grumble, trudging your way towards the car through the dense, snow-laden path. The flakes fall thick and heavy, making it difficult to see ahead.

Yoongi grumbles under his breath, popping the trunk to stow away your bag. With meticulous care, he ensures you've got everything essential for the journey. Satisfied, you both slide into the car, ready to face the challenges the snowy night has in store.

“It's going to be alright, babe,” he reassures you, his hand gently covering yours before tenderly moving to your belly. “Can't wait to finally meet you.” 

Yoongi is accustomed to navigating challenging weather conditions on the road, his driving skills unaffected by the snow. However, the incompetence of other drivers in snowy conditions infuriates him. Inside the cocoon of your car, he vents his frustration, unleashing a symphony of curses directed at everyone causing chaos on the wintry roads.

“Ease up on the road rage, Yoongi. I don't want our little one picking up a vocabulary lesson in expletives before they even arrive,” you chime in, settling deeper into the seat, your concern for the baby evident in your voice.

“Babe, seriously, who ventures out on the road without a clue about driving in the snow? And it's the crack of dawn—why is everyone suddenly on a snow-day adventure?” Yoongi grumbles in exasperation, his frustration bringing a smile to your face despite the situation.

“Have you forgotten it’s Christmas time?” you quip, chuckling as he gapes at you, realization dawning on him. Damn, he had indeed forgotten.

“We haven’t even reached the city yet and there’s already so many cars,” he complains some more, and you let him. His voice, a melody that always soothes, even in the midst of chaotic Christmas traffic.

“They’re going home to their families—, watch out!” you point at the car in front of you, its headlights blazing like a comet in the snowy morning, almost blinding in their intensity.

Yoongi's keen eyes caught sight of the car in the opposite lane, and it became painfully evident that the driver couldn't navigate the snowy roads to save their life. Inexplicably, this inept driver seemed to believe they owned the road, arrogantly straddling both lanes. Distinguishing one lane from another was challenging in the snowy chaos, but it wasn't rocket science either.

Yoongi skillfully swerves the car to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with the vehicle in front. The abrupt move sends a rumble through the car as it navigates the bumpy terrain, plowing through a massive mound of snow hastily shoved to the side.

The car grinds to a halt, Yoongi unleashing a string of colorful curses directed at the absent driver. Now, you find yourselves stranded in the unforgiving grip of the snow.

His concerned gaze shifts to you, seeking reassurance. “Are you okay, babe?” he asks, and although you appear unharmed, your response carries the weight of the unexpected. “Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit shaken.”

As he hums a soothing melody, his attempts to reassure you echo in the confined space, yet beneath the surface, he senses the gradual erosion of his own calm demeanor.

“That fucking jerk,” his frustration intensifies as he hisses about the reckless driver, but you, amidst the escalating contractions, offer soothing reassurance, masking the growing urgency within the car.

“I'll assess the damage outside, okay?” he proposes, seeking your consent. You nod, delving into your bag for a snack, a sudden wave of hunger overtaking you amid the unfolding situation.

Yoongi steps out into the freezing cold, the car's engine humming in the background. He surveys the vehicle, searching for any visible damage, but to his relief, nothing appears broken or in need of immediate repair.

The towering mound of snow engulfs the car, rendering the hood invisible. Yoongi, realizing the severity of the situation, understands that extricating the vehicle from this icy trap is no easy feat. The sheer depth of the snow suggests a challenging predicament, one that requires assistance. Knowing you're in no condition to lend a hand, he contemplates the help he'll need to navigate the car out of this wintry predicament.

He reenters the car, discovering you engrossed in a candy bar, and a hearty chuckle escapes his lips.

Between bites, you inquire, “I was hungry. How's the car?”

“It's stuck pretty bad in the snow pile. Can't get it out myself,” he begins, but you interrupt with a smile, “I can help you with that.”

“Have you forgotten that you're in labor?” he laughs, his voice raspy from the cold outside. “And you're not going out to shovel snow. We don't even have shovels,” he adds, sharing a hearty laugh with you.

“I thought you had all kinds of things in the car,” you chuckle, finishing your candy bar with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Yeah, but not shovels,” his laughter resonates in the car, a contagious sound that brings a smile to your face.

“What are we gonna do then, just wait?” you inquire, a hint of worry coloring your voice as the realization dawns that you might not make it to the hospital in time.

“I’ll call Jimin and ask him to come help,” he declares, urgency in his tone as he swiftly pulls out his phone, dialing Jimin’s number with determination.

Even in the early morning hush, Jimin's phone vibrates, and he glances at the caller ID to find Yoongi's name flashing. It's an unusual call at this hour, sparking an immediate concern that propels him to answer without hesitation.

“Hey, Yoongi hyung, something wrong?” His voice, tinged with worry and genuine concern, breaks the silence of the room as he answers the call. He rises from the bed, instantly alert to the unusual urgency in Yoongi's early morning summons. 

“We had a car accident,” Yoongi's words hang heavy in the air, shattering the tranquility of the room. Jimin's reaction is immediate, a storm of worry and disbelief brewing within him. He erupts from the bed, shouting into the phone, “What??” The sheer concern in his voice mirrors the gravity of the situation.

Yoongi's reassurance echoes through the phone, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “It's minor, relax,” he utters, and the calmness in his voice acts as a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge of panic.

“A guy forced us off the road, and we ended up plowing into a massive snowbank. Now, the damn car's wedged in tight,” Yoongi recounts, frustration coloring his words. Jimin, attentive, absorbs the details. “Think you can come lend a hand? Bring some shovels. I'll shoot you our coordinates,” Yoongi requests, the urgency evident in his tone.

Jimin readily agrees to help, his concern palpable through the phone. However, he can't shake the worry as he inquires, “Are you guys okay? And ___? How's the baby?”

“Yeah, we're all fine,” Yoongi reassures, his voice a bit raspy. Jimin strains to catch some muffled sounds on the other end, unable to discern the details.

He glances at the dropped location on his phone, “I can be there in about 30 minutes,” he assures Yoongi, swiftly rising from his bed to grab some warm clothes.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

As the promised 30 minutes Jimin assured you passed an hour ago, he couldn't help but wonder if you were growing impatient with the prolonged wait.

Jimin spots your car on the roadside, its hazard lights casting an eerie glow, and he expertly maneuvers his own vehicle to a stop right behind yours.

He steps out, ready to retrieve tools from the trunk, but his attention is abruptly stolen by piercing screams emanating from your car. His muscles tense, and without a second thought, he dashes towards the source of the cries.

Why are you screaming? What's going on, and why are the windows so foggy?

With an overpowering urgency, he wrenches open the left door to the backseats, sending it flinging wide, the metallic screech echoing the urgency pulsing through his veins.

He hadn't anticipated the shocking scene that unfolded before him; there you were, legs pressed against the headrest on both the front and back seats, completely exposed from the waist down. He can clearly see your vagina. Fuck, your vagina is big—wait, something is coming out of it!

Yoongi catches Jimin unabashedly staring at your vagina, prompting an eye roll from him. What's with Jimin? Having already witnessed your tits and now your vagina, it annoys Yoongi to no end. He's possessive; the idea of others seeing you in such a vulnerable state doesn't sit well with him. Sharing is not his forte.

He hisses sharply, capturing Jimin's attention, all while the symphony of your agonized screams continues to pierce the air.

“Stop looking at her vagina, man! You’ve seen enough of her, Jimin,” Yoongi snaps, frustration dripping from his words as your writhing form remains nestled against his supporting frame.

Jimin's eyes widen in disbelief, his mouth agape at the unexpected scene. He quickly redirects his gaze to Yoongi, his expression a mix of shock and apology as he stammers, “I—I didn't mean to, Yoongi, I'm so sorry!”

You clutch your thighs tightly, a guttural scream escaping your lips as the contraction envelops you. Once it recedes, you direct an exasperated shout at Jimin, “Close the damn door! You’re letting all the cold air in.”

Jimin snaps out of his daze, berating himself for standing there like a fool. Swiftly, he slips into the driver's seat, positioning himself to face the backseats with a determined look on his face.

“How long has she been in labor?” Jimin queries Yoongi, who glances up from your panting form for a moment before responding, “A few hours, actually.”

“You could have mentioned that when you called!” Jimin hisses in frustration. Not that the information would have made a big difference, given that the snow was the primary cause of his tardiness.

“But that’s a long time. I can see the head coming out,” he informs, prompting both you and Yoongi to exchange amused eye rolls.

“Yeah, she's crowning,” Yoongi adds with a soft stroke to your cheeks, his touch a comforting anchor as you brace yourself for another contraction.

“What can I do to help? I don't think we can get the car ready in time to make it to the hospital,” Jimin inquires, his gaze shifting between you and Yoongi with a mix of concern and determination.

“I already realized I’m having this baby in the backseat of a fucking car. Serves me right — getting fucked in a car, giving birth in a car. I’ve come full circle!” you laugh hysterically between contractions, the situation not lost on you. Jimin shifts uncomfortably in the driver's seat, but Yoongi remains a steady rock, his presence grounding you amidst the chaos.

As Yoongi directs his attention to Jimin, he suggests, “Maybe you could call the hospital and check if they can send an ambulance our way, just in case. I haven't had a moment to make that call yet.” His fingers trace soothing circles on your thighs, a stark contrast to the urgency of your sudden need to push.

Jimin's face reflects genuine concern as he admits he's never witnessed someone in labor before, only having gleaned insights from movies. However, a memory surfaces—advice from Seokjin after his girlfriend gave birth. “You can try changing positions, something where gravity can aid the baby's descent,” he shares, a eureka moment breaking through the tension.

Following Jimin's suggestion, you and Yoongi exchange a glance filled with gratitude and amazement. Acting on the advice, you shift positions, moving to sit over the seats with your upper body draped across them, your face turned towards the back. The atmosphere is tense, yet the three of you share a determined resolve in the face of the unexpected delivery.

With Yoongi's steady support, you manage to assume a half-standing, half-seated position, your body poised for the imminent arrival of your baby. Meanwhile, the car fills with the sound of Jimin's urgent voice as he communicates with the hospital over the phone.

“They are sending an ambulance now,” he informs.

Gratitude colors Yoongi's urgent request, a plea wrapped in the intensity of the moment. “Thank you, Jimin. Could you come back here and lend a hand?” he implores, a mix of worry and determination in his voice, as you cling to the rhythm of your breaths, navigating the storm of contractions.

He teases with a nonchalant shrug, “I thought you didn't want me looking.” Yet, it's clear he's here to assist you; after all, you're his ride or die, and in this crucial moment, his quip holds a trace of underlying devotion and readiness to stand by your side.

In a playful retort, he asserts, “Bold of you to assume I wanted you to look at her vagina again. There are other ways to assist, you know. I'll keep vagina watch—she's my wife,” emphasizing the relationship he shares with you, as Jimin exits the car to join you in the backseat.

Your tired yet grateful gaze meets Jimin's as you acknowledge, “You were right, Jimin. This position is a game-changer. The pressure has eased up a bit.” Despite the sweat-soaked exhaustion etched on your face, a soft smile conveys your appreciation.

For a second, Jimin doesn’t know what to do – can he touch you? Where? How can he help?

“Fuck it hurts!” Agony courses through you, each breath a struggle as you arch your back, a desperate attempt to wrestle against the relentless ache.

As the waves of pain intensify, he instinctively rests his hand on the small of your back, gently tracing soothing circles. To his relief, he witnesses the tension in your body slowly surrender to the rhythmic comfort of his touch.

Summoning all his composure, Yoongi bravely steals a glance downward, discovering a tuft of hair signaling the imminent arrival. Damn. He knows he must remain composed, steady—for you.

“How did you go into labor anyway? How did the water break, was it like in the movies?” Jimin launches into a barrage of questions, his curiosity pouring out like an unbridled stream. You shoot a glare his way, practically hurling invisible daggers in his direction at the audacity of his inquiries.

His hands continue their soothing circles on your lower back as he asks, “What?” Yoongi resurfaces, his expression a blank canvas.

And suddenly, realization flashes across Jimin's face. “You totally fucked! And then she went into labor!” he exclaims, a mix of shock and amusement in his voice.

You hiss in pain, your fingers clenching the seat with a vice-like grip, the intensity of the moment etched in the white-knuckle grasp of your hands.

Both your expressions affirm Jimin's earlier assumption, a silent confirmation that lingers in the charged air of the confined space.

“Shit, I can’t do this,” you gasp, exhaustion etched across your face, your body seemingly on the brink of surrender.

“You're almost there, babe. It's safe to keep pushing,” Yoongi reassures you with a tender kiss on your cheek, but you push him away, a fiery glare in your gaze.

“This is all your fault. You and your damn big dick!” you scream at him, and he understands, recognizing it as your pain talking and not the real you. Jimin chuckles from beside you, and you turn to give him a death glare, saying, “Don’t act so innocent, Mr. ‘I think Yoongi likes you.’”

“But I was right. And now you're about to have his baby. It's going to be okay,” Jimin reassures you, his hand gently rubbing your back.

“Just relax,” Jimin adds.

“Easy for you to say; a baby isn't shooting out of your body,” you huff, the intensity of your anger subsiding.

“I know it hurts, babe. But focus on your breathing, and when you're ready, push with all you've got,” Yoongi encourages, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

The kiss sends electric shivers down your spine, and strangely, it acts as a calming balm, making the pain feel somewhat more bearable.

When he pulls away, he notices the lingering frown on your face, and a sense of curiosity washes over him. “It was nice, Yoongi. I think it helps alleviate the pain,” you admit, your voice a mixture of exhaustion and appreciation.

“Kiss me again,” you pant, your desperation echoing in the quiet space of the car. Yoongi obliges, capturing your lips with a hunger that elicits a moan from deep within you. In that stolen moment, the world fades away, forgotten in the intoxicating blend of passion and the rhythmic circles Jimin traces on your back.

“Don’t mind me. But I think the baby is coming, I can see more of its head just from here,” he informs, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and amusement. Yoongi's gaze follows Jimin's, confirming the imminent arrival. 

He positions his hands underneath your core, preparing to catch your baby as soon as it emerges. Yet, your screams of pain prompt a plea, “Please distract me with kisses,” you cry out, your hands clenching around the seats in a desperate search for relief. 

Yoongi glances up at you, your pain evident, and the desperate desire for relief palpable in your eyes. However, he's torn between wanting to provide comfort and being there to catch and deliver your baby. A moment of realization dawns upon him – he can't be in two places at once, something Jimin seems to realize too.

Yoongi gazes at Jimin, a silent plea for guidance evident in his eyes, but Jimin, with a mischievous grin, utters, “You've got two choices, hyung – catch the baby or let me kiss your wife. What's it gonna be?”

Yoongi gapes at him, astounded by the audacity Jimin displays in even suggesting such a choice. He's acutely aware of his own possessiveness, and Jimin knows how much he fucking wants to deliver his own child. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place.

With a sense of urgency, you turn your head and implore, “Do something! I don't care who kisses me, just someone, please!” Your plea echoes with a mixture of sternness and desperation, the pain coursing through your entire body amplifying the need for any distraction.

Yoongi moves with unwavering determination, ascending once more. “Fine. Deliver the baby. You're going to be the godfather anyway,” he grumbles to Jimin, reaching your head and pressing his lips plush against yours. Instantly, you relax, a moan escaping in the midst of the chaos.

“I am?” Jimin questions, uncertainty lacing his voice. Yet, he positions his hands beneath your vagina, mirroring Yoongi's earlier gesture.

You eagerly press your lips to Yoongi's, seeking out his tongue in a passionate exchange, panting and moaning in response to the surge of arousal coursing through you. Amid the heated kiss, you offer affirmative murmurs to Jimin, your desires spoken through the intensity of the embrace with Yoongi.

“It's working, the baby is coming out,” Jimin exclaims with a mix of excitement and focus, his hands securing the baby's head with delicate precision to ensure a safe descent into the world.

Yoongi abandons your mouth, tracing a fiery path down to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of searing kisses and tantalizing bites. Your response is an involuntary groan, a symphony of pleasure escaping your lips, as you gasp out, “Fuuuck, Yoongi.”

“The head is completely out now!” Jimin’s voice breaks through the intense moment and in response, you instinctively grab Yoongi’s head, pulling him back up into a passionate kiss.

As your lips entwine in an ardently sensual dance, the symphony of pleasure resonates, eliciting increasingly fervent moans from you.

Breaking away, you gasp, “Fuck. Why does it feel like I’m coming?” Your breath comes in pants, and you sense a relieving tightness escaping your body.

Jimin swiftly takes charge, catching the remainder of your baby as it emerges, and Yoongi lends his support, ensuring Jimin's hands remain steady in the crucial moment.

The infant rests gently between your thighs in the hands of both Yoongi and Jimin, and as you gasp for air, you steal a glance downward. There, your precious baby lies, serene and silent. A moment of quietude settles in, and a disquieting realization begins to dawn upon you—silence, in this context, isn't the reassuring sound you anticipated.

Dread courses through you as you breathe heavily, realizing the absence of that expected newborn cry. Without hesitation, you extend your trembling arms, pulling your baby up against your chest in a desperate embrace.

An air of tension hangs heavy, mirrored in the anxious expressions on Jimin and Yoongi's faces, both men holding their breath, awaiting the sound that should signify life's beginning.

In an instinctual surge of emotion, you tear your shirt to shreds with one hand, cradling your newborn against your bare chest. Shock registers on both Jimin and Yoongi's faces as they witness this raw display of maternal instinct, captivated by the power and determination radiating from you.

As you gently rub the baby's back, waves of sadness wash over you, and tears stream down your face. In a choked voice, you express your fear, “This is why I should have delivered in the hospital. What if something happened to the baby and it's...gone?” The last part of the sentence catches in your throat, too emotional to articulate fully.

In the confined space of the car, you twist around, pressing your back against the seat as tears cascade down your cheeks. The anguish in your body is palpable, each sob causing a tremor that echoes the pain you're enduring.

In an instant, a second cry intertwines with yours, and you lower your gaze to behold your baby, tiny and fragile, yet alive. A surge of relief floods through every fiber of your being, mirrored in the eyes of the two men who exchange a profound, knowing glance.

Clutching your newborn close, you haven't even taken a moment to check the gender, but in this raw and tender moment, it hardly matters. All that echoes through your soul is the reassurance that everything is alright.

Overflowing with gratitude, your voice carries a symphony of love as your eyes dance between your husband and Jimin. “Thank you, both of you” you whisper, your heart swelling with the depth of the moment.

Yoongi whispers, his voice a tender melody, “You did incredible, babe,” as he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your cheek, his words echoing with admiration for your strength and resilience.

“No problem at all. You were amazing, ___,” Jimin commends, leaning back into the seat beside you, his hands stained with blood, that he wipes off on his pants.

“Jimin, could you check the trunk for some thermal blankets?” Yoongi requests, his gaze tenderly fixed on your baby, who has quieted down and now rests peacefully against your boobs—what he believes to be the most comforting place.

Jimin returns with a bundle of blankets, and Yoongi, with a sense of urgency, joins him in carefully wrapping you and the baby. The blankets cocoon you both, shielding you from the biting cold as you patiently await the arrival of the ambulance.

“Should we find anything to cut the cord with?” In a sudden burst of practicality, Jimin scans the car, his eyes searching for anything suitable to cut the cord.

“No, no. I've read that the baby can stay attached for hours and even days. So I'm fine waiting to do it in the hospital,” you say, your voice carrying a mixture of fatigue and overwhelming love. Your eyes remain fixed on your baby, and you don't glance at Jimin as you express your decision.

Then, a sensation grips your attention, warmth and thickness enveloping you between your legs. As you cast your gaze downward, the revelation dawns upon you – it's the placenta.

“You guys might need a new car,” Jimin breaks into laughter and Yoongi looks at him perplexed, before he scans the state of the car; it’s filled with blood, anatomic fluid and God knows what else. He reckons you’ll have to burn it, if it can’t be cleaned.

Half an hour post-delivery, the ambulance team arrives like guardian angels, swooping in to cradle you in their capable hands as they whisk you away to the sanctuary of the hospital.

Jimin swiftly summons roadside assistance, ensuring a caretaker for your stranded car, while he maneuvers his own vehicle through the snowy streets to the hospital.

Nestled in the hospital room, you're navigating the nuances of new motherhood. The compassionate nurses guide you through the art of breastfeeding, and you're determined to master this intimate dance with your newborn.

Beside you, Yoongi shares in the enchantment, both of you reveling in the miracle of your beautiful baby girl, awestruck at the realization that you've crafted this extraordinary little being together.

Gazing into his eyes, a kaleidoscope of love, affection, and adoration, he whispers, “I love you, babe,” before tenderly leaning in for a heartfelt kiss.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

Jimin sweeps into the room, a harbinger of warmth and color, bearing a bouquet of your favorite purple flowers. Your heart flutters as you press a grateful kiss to his cheek, expressing your thanks.

Deep gratitude colors Yoongi's voice as he wraps Jimin in a tight embrace. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you for everything,” he murmurs, sincerity etched in his words. Jimin, with a warm smile, responds, “It's no problem. You're welcome.”

Clutching Jimin's hand, you squeeze it tightly, your eyes reflecting sincere appreciation. “No, thank you. I would never have made it without you,” you express, the gravity of your words resonating in the room.

You express your heartfelt appreciation, looking directly at Jimin as you speak. “You are my best, best friend, Jimin. I love you and thank you,” your words carrying the weight of genuine gratitude. Jimin meets your gaze with tenderness, carefully keeping his eyes on your face, mindful of not stepping on any toes with Yoongi, not that there's anything he should be worried about.

“She’s really cute—the baby, I mean,” Jimin throws his hands up in mock defense, unable to contain his admiration. His genuine enthusiasm shines through as he revels in the adorable sight of your newborn.

Yoongi begins with a playful smirk, “Relax, Jimin. You're allowed to call my wife cute and pretty, and occasionally sneak a glance at her assets if the situation calls for it; like a birth or a bra mishap—but nothing more.” He chuckles, wrapping up his words with a friendly hug, leaving Jimin with a mix of relief and amusement.

Jimin's laughter resonates in response, and just as the sound fills the room, the door swings open, ushering in the rest of your friends.

They flood the room with warm greetings, and your eyes quickly catch Jungkook, who enters with a whimsical unicorn plushie and a vibrant bouquet in shades of purple, pink, and blue.

“These are for you,” he beams, thrusting the bouquet towards Yoongi, who delicately places them on the table beside you.

“Congratulations,” the boys chime in unison, closing in to catch a glimpse of your precious little one.

You shift your baby in your arms, delicately adjusting your gown to reveal the other breast for feeding. With each nourishing moment, you sense post-contractions coursing through your body, a gentle reminder of your uterus gradually returning to its normal size.

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon inadvertently direct their gaze toward your breasts, drawing Yoongi’s attention. However, Seokjin interjects sternly, “Enough, guys. Show some respect. Quit staring at her breasts while she's feeding. You've seen other breasts before; let's not be rude.”

Jimin lets out a chuckle from his position beside you on the bed, quietly noting that the others should consider themselves lucky that Yoongi didn't snap at them for sneaking glances at your breasts.

“Starting today, a strict no-gazing policy is in effect for anyone trying to sneak a peek at my wife's breasts or her vagina,” Yoongi declares, shooting a pointed yet appreciative smile in Jimin's direction.

Confusion flickers across the faces of all the guys as their gazes shift between Jimin, Yoongi, and then you, signaling that something intriguing might have unfolded.

As their jaws drop in surprise, you casually spill the details, “He played a crucial role in delivering the baby and got an unexpected front-row view of my vagina in the process.”

Yoongi clenches his jaw, his gaze piercing through the room as he asserts, “Yes, that happened. Eyes off—especially you two,” he warns, shooting a stern look at Jungkook and Taehyung, who quickly avert their eyes.

Jungkook hesitantly clears his throat, his curiosity overcoming his apprehension, “___, what's that on your neck?”

A rosy hue tints your cheeks as you recall the passionate love bite that Yoongi left on your neck just before the chaotic journey into labor began, and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath for the intimate moment that now decorates your skin.

What do you think??? Any kind of feedback is much appreciated ✨

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x y/n #bts x reader smut #bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi #yoongi #myg x you #myg x reader #myg smut #myg #yoongi imagine #bts imagines #bts imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfic #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #friendcation series

[earthtooz]

// PAIRING: eren jaeger x reader

// SYNOPSIS: eren's pretty adamant on getting you to kiss him.

// WARNINGS: FLUFF! reader teases eren, pouty eren, spin the bottle game... kinda, dialogue heavy, cursing, alcohol, lots and lots of, eren is drunk, lmk if there are other warnings i have bypassed!

// A/N: UNEDITED - tags work tags work tags work tags work tags work tags please work, first ever aot piece and i kinda pulled it out my ass lMFAOOOO :o i can't help it the eren and levi brainrot is real. hope i characterised eren somewhat accurately, enjoy <3

"you have to kiss me!" eren pleads, hands clasped together as his green eyes shine up at you.

“eren, what? no! you’re drunk!” you exclaim in retaliation, pushing his face away gently, but despite that, it’s not enough to stop his stubbornness. in fact, it actually intensifies his pleading expression, “you’re gross.”

his face contorts to resemble one of a kicked puppy.

you sigh, feeling the walls you built up soften a little, “eren, i’ll kiss you when your breath doesn’t reek of alcohol and when i know you want a kiss.”

the tips of your ears flush red at the last statement. when eren came up to you with an urgent request for you to kiss him, ‘on the lips’, as he reiterated, you choked on the soda you were drinking. yes, the carbonation got the better of you and started stinging your nostrils, and yes, you were very flustered at his request because first of all, that would cross the line of your friendship and second of all, the childish tone in his voice was very unfamiliar. 

the last time you’d heard eren sound this juvenile was when he was 15 and now, as young adults, you can’t remember the last time he whined over something.

especially something as futile as a kiss.

“if this is some dare you better tell me, because that would just be mean-” you murmur with a frown before he interrupts.

“it’s not a dare! i promise, jus’ kiss me.” 

“when you’re sober.”

“but sober me would chicken out,” he huffs, “please? just this once? doesn’t matter that i’m drunk.”

“yes it does! you could be spewing bullshit out your stupid mouth.”

“i spew bullshit out of my mouth even when i’m sober.”

“great, now i’m even more unconvinced.”

eren huffs and rests his head on your shoulder in defeat. you place a palm on the side of his head so that it doesn’t roll off.

a game of spin the bottle happening in the corner catches your eye. 

“why does it have to be me?” you ask, now playing with the roots of his hair, “if you so desperately want to kiss someone go over to that game happening. they look like they’re having fun.” 

“that’s connie, jean and sasha,” he comments.

“so? i’m sure they’re down to kiss you. jean’s a good kisser.”

“how do you know?”

you merely shrug with a smirk, looking to get a rise out of the brunet but irritation resides in his features. 

“you’re tellin’ me you’d rather kiss horse-face than me?” he questions in a demanding tone, gripping onto your shoulders. eren also adds a, “besides, i don’t want them to kiss me, i want you to kiss me and i’m not about to join a game where you’re not one of the options.”

suddenly a lightbulb appears on his head and he murmurs a ‘be right back’ before disappearing into the crowd. 

true to his word, eren manifests 30 seconds later, now holding an empty beer bottle as a faint yell of ‘what the hell, yeager?’ echoes behind him.

“sit down,” the brunet gently commands and you do as said, amused. 

“are we gonna play spin the bottle, eren?”

“yes.”

“just us?”

“yes.”

you were having fun at this point, so you tick your friend off a little more, “c’mon, that won’t be fun. armin seems like he’s down to play and so does-”

eren shoves the empty beer bottle into your hands with a simple command, “spin.”

doing as he says, he watches the glass closely as it circulates repeatedly from the sheer force you put into it but at last, it begins to slow, with the head finally choosing its victim.

it lands right on eren, no mistaking it. he laughs brightly and cheers.

“finally! you gotta kiss me now!” 

you smile softly at his behaviour, about to relent if it weren’t for mikasa cutting your interaction short with armin draped on her shoulder, “hey y/n, i think it’s the end of the night for armin and i. mind dropping us home?”

“sure,” you reply before glancing over to eren, who is seething with irritation at this point, “are you gonna go home too or wanna enjoy the party a little more?”

he grunts, “i’ll go.”

mikasa helps him up as you fish for your car keys, leading everyone to your car. the trip was quiet, eren’s unaddressed anger squeezing the peace away and instead, replacing it with a suffocating tension. it wasn’t until you arrive at a red light that mikasa speaks up.

“what’s your problem, eren?”

the man in question turns his head away, sulking further as he crunches up the plastic water bottle in his hands, “it’s nothing.”

she turns to you with confusion in her eyes and you can’t help but chuckle, “leave him be. boys will be boys. so how did armin pass out? thought he didn’t like getting pissed drunk.”

“he’s just a lightweight.”

“so’s eren. our luck, huh?”

mikasa grins and the conversation continues until you drop armin and mikasa off, leaving you alone with the same man who’s been harassing you for a kiss.

thinking about it is getting you flustered, but you recall how disappointed eren looked when mikasa interrupted his moment of victory and in compensation, you ask if he wants to ride shotgun. he grunts in agreement.

“you okay to stay the night at my apartment? i don’t trust that you’re gonna keep yourself safe whilst intoxicated. second i look away you might go and pick some fights with guys double your size.”

“and i’d win.”

“and you’d win.”

nothing eventful occurs during the drive back to your apartment and it’s not until you’re settled on the couch with pizza in between the two of you that he asks about the kiss again.

and you choke on your pizza all the same. dude really needs to learn what better timing is.

“i feel a lot more sober now, so please?”

“did you know that alcohol can last in your system for more than 24 hours-”

“stop avoiding the question.”

“adamant as ever. y’know what, when you wake up in the morning and you still feel the same, let me know.”

excitement glistens in his eyes, “hope ya like morning breath.”

you throw a pillow at him.

***

rapid knocking wakes you up from your slumber and the first thing you see when you wake up are the analog digits on your bedside clock reading 7:32. damn eren and his early bird tendencies - and why is he knocking so urgently at this time of day?

trudging to the door, you swing it open and you’re greeted by the charmingly boyish smile you’re accustomed to.

“so… about that kiss.”

yeah i didn't make y'all kiss in the end lMFAOO GET FUCKED!...but you look so pretty when you press reblog, like or follow 😁😁

hope you enjoyed regardless, have a good day/evening!

#eren x reader #eren fluff #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #eren drabble #eren imagine #eren x you #eren jaegar #eren #eren jeager #eren yeager #eren yaeger #eren yaeger x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #shinkegi no kyojin x reader

[redrose10]

Part 1

Here is part 1 of this new story that I’m working on. I was going to post it as one big chapter, but I’ve received feedback that multiple chapters are preferred so that’s the route I went. I really hope that everyone likes it! This first part is very very angsty.

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, eventual fluff

Word Count: 9,602

Tag List: @viankiss

You slunk down in your office chair hanging your head low. Your boss had just chewed you out after you presented her with a draft of your newest novel that you had thought you were just about finished with, but it appears you were going to have to start from the beginning.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go as well as you thought it would?”, your best friend and coworker, Nari responded.

“She said that it’s not believable and that I need to use my own personal experiences as inspiration. I can’t keep writing the same story over and over just changing the names and location. The reader will be able to connect with it more if it’s from experience. I have two months to send her the new story or I’m on unpaid leave until I submit something worth publishing. It’s such bullshit.”, you huffed.

“I mean she kind of has a point. Anyone can put a bunch of words down on a piece of paper, but unless there is real feeling behind it then those words won’t get far.”

You rolled your eyes, “Seriously? You too? And what personal experience should I use?”

“Y/N you’ve been in relationships before. Just use one of them or a combination of all of them.”

“Oh yeah, should I go with the one who cheated on me or the one who ghosted me after he got me in his bed, or the one that would loose his temper at the smallest thing I did to upset him? I’ve never had a good relationship experience.”, you chuckle self deprecatingly.

“Hey Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rub it in like that. Maybe try writing something else. Not every story has to be about a relationship, good or bad.”

Running your hands over your face you sighed, “I just don’t know what to do any more. I feel so burnt out and unmotivated. I don’t think I could come up with another story if I wanted to.”

“Why don’t you take a break? You know, get out of town for a while. I’m sure our boss won’t mind, especially if it gets you to clear your head and write something decent.”

Pondering this theory for a minute you began to think she might be on to something.

“Where would I go though? I can’t really afford to travel far and I don’t want to be too distracted that I can’t get anything done.”

After some silence Nari jumped up, “Oh I’ve got the perfect place. It’s just a four hour flight out to the countryside. A little town called, Holly Falls. My sister and her fiancé stayed there several months ago.”

Thinking it over a little it sounded like a good idea. After some begging and promising your boss that you were going to get work done while on the trip she agreed.

Once you arrived at the airport you really wished you’d done a little more research about Holly Falls. After some digging and a conversation with a very outgoing Uber Driver you found out that eleven months out of the year the town is very low key and relaxed, but for one month it is a tourist hotspot thanks to the insane amount of blooming cherry blossom trees. According to your new Uber friend, people come to Holly Falls during this month to see the fields of trees blooming in all their glory. The normally quiet town embraces the crowds providing various festivals and parades and gimmicks to draw in the guests as well as their wallets. And of course you just happen to travel over there smack dab in the middle of it all.

The driver dropped you off in the middle of the fun so with your bag slung over your shoulder you started heading into different hotels trying to book a room. In the city you could walk into pretty much any hotel at any time and book a room. You had assumed it would be same in this small town so you had decided to wait to book a room until you could see them in person wanting to get the feel and make sure you chose the right fit. You imagine in any other month it would be much easier to obtain a place to stay here, but due to the large tourist presence every single hotel was completely booked for the entire month.

You were just about ready to give up and head to the airport to see about booking a flight home when an older gentleman came up to you carrying various handmade trinkets for sale.

“See anything you like miss? All of these are under $10.”, he asked.

Politely you smiled, “No thank you. Not right now.”

You thought he had left until you saw him dangling a hand painted sun catcher in front of you. The design a beautiful beautiful cherry blossom. Trying to bite your tongue and not snap at the elderly man you again shook your head. “Here have it for free. You seem to need a little cheering up.”, he smiled.

Reaching up you grabbed the delicate glass from him, “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry if I came off rude. I’m just really stressed out right now.”

“Didn’t know about the cherry blossom season and now you can’t find a place to stay?”, he asked. “How did you know?”, you replied wide eyed. The elderly man chuckled while taking a seat next to you, “There’s always at least one person that gets stuck here with nowhere to stay because they didn’t know how crazy things can get around here this time of the year.”

“Mmh yeah that would be me this year. I need somewhere to stay for a couple weeks or I’m going to have to head back home.” “You know there might be somewhere that still has a room available. It’s just outside all of the hubbub. About ten miles just over that hill. If you get to Taehyung’s Strawberry Farm then you’ve gone too far.”, he said pointing in the opposite direction of the festivities. “Really? You think they’d have a room? I wonder why they wouldn’t be booked like every other place.”

The gentleman stood up from the bench you were both on, “Its worth a shot. It’s a little farther away from all the action than people like to be. Plus the owners are a little on the unique side.”

You were concerned at this statement. The last thing you wanted to do was end up being the story line of a true crime documentary.

He continued, “They are very nice people. A young man and his grandmother. They just tend to be very secluded and to themselves. It’s called Interlude Inn. You can’t miss it.”

You thanked him for the information and watched as he walked into a large group of people trying to sell the rest of his merchandise. Placing the delicate sun catcher in your bag you ordered another Uber to take you over to the inn. A familiar vehicle quickly pulled up in front of you with the same talkative man from earlier. You wondered how there weren’t any other drivers available, but you smiled as you slid in the back seat anyways.

“Leaving so soon?”, he asked.

You chuckled, “No I just need to find somewhere else to stay. Can you please take me to The Interlude Inn?” Suddenly the man stopped, turning to look back at you.

“Miss you don’t want to stay there. Surely there’s somewhere else around here you can stay.”

“Every hotel is completely booked. If this inn doesn’t have a room then I’ll have to just go home.”

He sighed, “Alright miss. If you insist.”

He began the drive to your location. His words about finding somewhere else stuck in your mind.

“Sir?”

“Yes Miss”

“What you said earlier. What is so bad about this inn?”

“Well, the grandma, I think her name is Mae, is very sweet. She’s done the best she can with what she had. But that Min boy, he’s a little odd.”

“Ohhh…Like serial killer odd?”

The man chuckled, “No not that kind of odd. He’s just very quiet and keeps to himself, but he is polite. He’s never seemed to have any friends and I doubt he’s ever had any kind of relationship. He comes into town only a few times a year, mostly when his grandmother needs something. He doesn’t acknowledge anyone, even when they speak to him directly. People usually only stay at the inn as a last resort during this busy season.”

From what you’re hearing he seemed like just a quiet introverted person who loves his grandma. You weren’t sure why everyone seemed so leery of him.

The car pulled up infront of the inn. The large wooden sign out front verified you were indeed at The Interlude Inn. Thanking your driver you grabbed your bag and made your way up to the entrance.

The Inn looked cozy and welcoming. It was smaller than you had imagined. There couldn’t be more than three or four rooms. Off to the side you noticed a little garden with various plants starting to bloom.

On the door hung a welcome sign adorned with hand painted lady bugs and butterflies. Turning the handle you gently pushed in the door being greeted by a heavenly aroma making your stomach grumble. The entrance room which also doubled as a living room had two couches, one on either side of a coffee table. A television hung on the wall above a fireplace. In the corner was a small desk which you assume would be where you could request a room.

Walking over you noticed a younger man crouching down so he was eye level with one of the drawers. He appeared to be about your age, mid to late twenties. Black hair with a slight curl to it hung over his forehead. Beautiful cat like eyes and his soft lips formed into a deep pout. You wanted so badly to reach over and squeeze his chubby cheeks, but you knew that was a weirdness you didn’t want to invoke. He was fidgeting with a drawer that seemed to be stuck and you could here the argument he was having in soft whispers,

“Come on you stupid thing.”

“It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

“Please, I just need a pen and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

You chuckled hearing him begging the drawer to cooperate. Reaching into your bag you grabbed one of your spare pens and set it on the desk, “Here I have a pen you could use.”

The young man let out a sudden squeal after you startled him. He jumped backwards and landed on his behind with a loud thud.

“Oh no I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you had heard me come in.”, you apologized feeling terrible.

The poor guy sat on the ground trying to collect himself before bringing himself back to a standing position. That’s when you noticed his cheeks were a bright shade of red, making you want to squeeze them even more. The man didn’t say a word. His eyes were barely able to focus on you, instead they would move around the room before returning to you for just a second before he’d quickly look elsewhere.

“Ahh this must be the Min boy the driver was talking about?”, you thought to yourself. They weren’t kidding when they said he was quiet and reserved.

“Hi, I’m sorry again for scaring you. I was just wondering if you had a room I could rent for a couple weeks.”

The man just continued looking around the room.

“It’s okay if you don’t have any available. It was just recommended for me to come up here for a room since all the others are booked.”

Again silence. You were about to ask if he was okay when a door off to the left swung open and a very sweet looking elderly woman came walking out. She must be the grandmother that was mentioned. She was covered in flour so you assumed that’s where the heavenly smell was coming from.

“Yoongi dear did you get that pen yet? I need to label the jars of blueberry jam.”, she spoke. When she noticed you she jumped slightly, but not in a scared kind of way. More like an oh no how long have you been standing there while my grandson stares at you kind of way.

“Oh hi sweety, how can we help you?”, she asked. Her grandson, that you now knew was named Yoongi, was still standing off to the side. You had to intently stare at his chest to make sure he was still breathing because you were honestly getting very concerned for him.

“Yes ma’am, I was wondering if you had any available rooms that I could rent for the next couple of weeks?”

She smiled while pulling out an old and beat up note book to take down your info. You liked the old school feel. It was much different than the digital kingdom of the city where you lived.

“Of course dear. Did you need one bed or two?”

“Just one will be fine.”

“Okay and you said two weeks?”

“Yes please.”

“No problem. Just fill out your name and address here. Payment will be due at the end of your stay when you check out.”

Quickly you wrote down all the requested information before handing the book back over. You couldn’t help but notice that Yoongi still hadn’t moved, but his cheeks were still a bright shade of pink so you knew he was at least breathing.

The grandma spoke again, “Thank you so much dear. My name is Mae, but you can call me grandma, granny, halmeoni, MaeMae, just don’t call me late for dinner.”

Even though you’ve heard that joke countless times you still laughed. Something about this sweet woman warmed your heart.

She continued, “This is my grandson Yoongi. He can help you with your bags and show you to your room. You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner. It should be ready in about twenty minutes or so.”

You thanked her profusely and watched as she walked back into the kitchen. Yoongi walked around the desk without making eye contact. He reached for your bag that was currently sitting on the ground and you noticed a shake to his hand due to his nerves.

“Uh uh um y-you c-can follow me.”, he spoke before walking down the long hallway. He opened the door to small cozy room. A window sat overlooking the garden. A bed adorned with a lilac colored quilt sat against the wall. There was a dresser available for storage and a desk off to the side. It was perfect.

Yoongi laid your bag down at the foot of the bed. You wanted to ask him if he needed to lie down based on how terrified he looked. Instead you opted to try and get him to speak to you at all.

“Hi Yoongi, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

You stuck your hand out offering a hand shake. It was getting awkward waiting for him to return the gesture, but just before you were going to dejectedly pull your hand back he reached up and took your hand in his.

With his cheeks back to bright red he quickly bowed and walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

Since dinner was going to be ready soon you opted to just lay in bed enjoying the comfort after a long day of travel. When Mae called you for dinner you entered the dining room surprised to only see her and Yoongi sat at the table.

“Am I the only guest?”, you asked suddenly feeling out of place.

“Yes dear, but don’t worry. We are so happy to have you here.”, she smiled pulling out a chair for you.

You nodded taking the offered seat while she filled up your bowl with some beef soup.

“So Y/N, what brings you to Holly Falls? I’m assuming it’s the cherry blossoms.”, she asked.

“Oh no I just needed to take a little vacation and clear my head. Having some work problems. My friend recommended this town to me. I didn’t even know about the cherry blossoms until I got here.”

“Well you’re going to love it here. There’s no more of a relaxing place.”

You smiled and accepted the second helping of soup. The two of you kept the conversation going talking about this and that. Yoongi never said a word. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him sneaking little glances in your direction before quickly turning his head but you chose to ignore it, not wanting to embarrass him.

After dinner you offered to help clean up the kitchen which was greatly appreciated. Mae sent Yoongi out to the garden to collect some chamomile to make tea. As she rinsed off the dishes you would take them and dry them before putting them in their respective spots.

“Thank you for being gentle with Yoongi.”, she spoke breaking the silence.

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that and apparently your face showed it because she continued,

“He really is such a caring and sweet young man. He’s just been hurt so many times and he’s so afraid of letting someone in for fear of it happening again. I worry what will happen to him when I’m no longer here. I don’t want him to be alone. He deserves the world and I hope that one day he finds someone that will give it to him.”

You wanted to ask questions, but felt it wasn’t a good idea to pry when you’ve only known this family for a few hours.

“He seems very sweet. I’d love to get to know him more.”, you responded.

“Oh please do. Go slow, but I think if you keep at it he just might open up to you. As soon as you went to your room he came to me and said you seemed like a very genuine person.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought.

“Do you know if he has any interests or anything? Maybe something I could ask him about.”

She lightly chuckled, “Well he loves music. He has these notebooks that he’s always writing lyrics in, but he has never let anyone look at them. He likes basketball. He was really good when he was younger, but he doesn’t play it much any more. Oh! And you’d never guess it but he likes to knit. He’d be furious if he ever found out I told you that so you didn’t hear that one from me.”

You nodded in agreement before putting the final plate away just as Yoongi returned with the requested chamomile. He shyly smiled at you before nervously running out of the room. After enjoying a cup of tea you said goodnight and made your way back to your room for the evening.

The following morning you cranklily padded to the dining area. Mornings were not your thing. Thankfully you were greeted with the smell of coffee and fresh baked bread. Mae was nowhere to be seen, but Yoongi was standing at the counter chopping some vegetables for what you presumed was an omelet based on all the ingredients in front of him. You stood in the doorway thankful that he hadn’t noticed you yet as it gave you a chance again to admired his features. You smiled at how the tip of his tongue poked out in concentration as he focused on chopping an onion.

Silently you walked up next to him and smiled, “Anything I can help with?” The poor thing nearly jumped two feet in the air also letting the knife slip which sliced the tip of his thumb. When you saw the small amount of blood coming to the surface you panicked.

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry Yoongi. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. What was I thinking?”, you said grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the sink. He hadn’t said a word.

After thoroughly washing the cut and using a paper towel to dry it you asked if there were any bandaids. Shyly he pointed underneath the sink and you found a first aid kit.

“Okay this might sting a little.”, you said applying the disinfectant. You felt awful when you saw his body flinch. After the cut was securely wrapped in a bandaid you began apologizing again, “I’m so sorry Yoongi. This is not how I intended for this to go. Are you going to be okay? Does it hurt still? Is there anything I can do?”

For the first time since you arrived you saw a full blown smile on his face. He shook his head, “N-No thank you. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Well let me help you prepare breakfast. It’s the least I can do.”

After some hesitation he agreed so you cleaned up the work station and got a new cutting board before you got to work chopping the rest of the vegetables. When breakfast was over and you had helped clean up you decided to go back to your room for a while and try to get some work done. Unfortunately things weren’t going that great. You were still struggling to put together a decent storyline and after two hours of staring at your laptop you decided to give up and take a break.

Peaking out the window you noticed Yoongi working in the garden. He looked adorable in his overalls and dark green sweater. A matching green beanie on to give a little more warmth. You wondered if he had knit it himself. You grabbed your jacket and decided to head outside for some fresh air.

Not wanting a repeat from the morning you loudly made your presence known as to not startle him again. Only when you were sure that he had noticed you did you decided to say something.

“What are you working on?”, you asked crouching down next to him.

He whispered something that you couldn’t quite catch. You noticed the redness intensifying in his cheeks too. He was just so incredibly cute.

“What kind of seeds are these?”

“Oh they are um cabbage and um radish seeds.”, he said without looking up from the dirt.

“Hmmm I know nothing about gardening, but isn’t it still too cold to plant these? I always thought it needed to be hot for seeds to grow.”

“S-Some s-seeds can grow when it’s colder out. Then we’ll h-harvest them and p-plant the rest.”

“Ahhh I see. I never even knew that was possible. What else are you planting?”

Did you care about gardening or seeds or soil quality? No absolutely not. But this was the most Yoongi has spoken to you so you rattled off question after question and made odd comments here and there just to get him to keep talking. By the time you were done his face was beet red and his hands were shaking quite a bit more than earlier. You were starting to feel bad and like you were pushing him past his breaking point so you wanted to give him some space.

Standing up and brushing the dirt off your knees you said, “Well it’s gotten quite chilly out. I’m gonna head inside. Thank you for teaching me so much. Maybe one day I’ll have a garden and you could come see it for yourself.”

He nodded without looking up at you and you took that as his way of saying goodbye. Once inside you found a smiling Mae standing in the kitchen.

She handed you hot bowl of leftover soup for lunch and sat at the table next to you.

“You know, that’s the longest I’ve ever seen him converse with someone other than me in a long long time. Normally he’d just get up and walk away without saying a word.”

The thought of asking about Yoongi’s past crossed your mind again, but you pushed it aside still not feeling that it was the right time.

The next couple days followed a similar path. You’d wake up, help Yoongi make breakfast, try to work for a little, and then you’d go find Yoongi and try to talk to him and get him to open up to you. He never said much but he’d nod or say a word here or there to let you know he was listening. Mae would always be amazed at how well Yoongi responded to you. After a while you’d give him some space and then join the two of dinner followed by tea and then you’d head off to bed.

On the fifth day you decided to go out and explore a little. You ended up at Taehyung’s Strawberry farm which was just up the road from the Inn. Taehyung or Tae as he told you to call him was a very kind and outgoing guy. The farm had been passed down in his family for six generations. He gave you a tour of the entire farm and introduced you to his farmhands/friends Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook. Jin was in charge of harvesting the strawberries and also coming up with new items to sell at the onsite bakery. Hoseok or Hobi as he was called was in charge of maintenance of the crops, things like making sure they got enough water but not too much water and pruning the plants where necessary. Namjoon was the bookkeeper. He kept track of orders and anything numbers related. Jungkook was the youngest of the four. According to Tae, he was the muscle of the group and would do various things around the farm that involved a lot of physical strength.

They all seemed like very sweet gentleman and made you feel very welcome from the start.

“So what brings you all the way out here? Most people try to stay closer to the main town this time of year.”, Jin asked setting a strawberry cream puff in front of you.

“I wasn’t able to get a room in town so I’m staying at The Interlude Inn.”

“I see. With Mae and Yoongi? How are they doing? I’ve been meaning to stop by and drop off a strawberry pie for them.”

“They seem to being doing well. They’ve been so hospitable.”

“Even Yoongi?”, Jungkook said taking a seat next to you. You noticed a hint of a chuckle in his question.

“Yes even Yoongi. He’s on the quiet side, but I think he’s starting to warm up to me a little bit.”

“Wow he must really like you then. I’ve been trying to get him to open up for years.”, Taehyung said walking over.

“What do you mean?”, you asked confused as to why everyone always seems to think he’s some cold jerk.

He continued, “We’ve just been trying to get him to hang out with us for the last few years. I’ve offered him multiple jobs around here. We’ve invited him over for dinner or to go get drinks in town. Namjoon tried to set him up on a date with his sister. He just always turns and walks away without saying a word. We’ve kind of just given up.”

“Oh yeah I guess maybe I’m just special then.”, you said before taking another bite of the cream puff.

It was pretty late by the time you had gotten back to the inn. Jin had given you a ride back as it looked like there was an early spring thunderstorm about to hit. When you walked inside you set the strawberry pie on the counter. Mae had already gone to sleep, but Yoongi was sitting in the common area watching a basketball game. He looked so cozy wrapped up in a hoodie that was a little too big for him and a fluffy fleece blanket on his lap. Now that you thought about it he was always dressed very warmly. Sweatshirts, sweaters, or multiple layers all with long sleeves. You’ve never seen any skin other than his hands and neck and face. It was on the chilly side being that it was barely the beginning of the spring, but nothing that you thought warranted that kind of clothing constantly. It was odd to you, but nothing you wanted to question him about right now because maybe it was just a comfort thing for him you thought. Instead you walked over to the couch making your presence known so that you didn’t startle him.

“Mind if I join you?”, you asked. Silently he scooted over to make room and you took that as a yes. You watched the game for a few minutes trying to come up with something to say, but you really didn’t know much about basketball or sports in general.

“Is that Michael Jordan?”, you asked after the camera followed a player who had just scored a basket.

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head.

“Lebron James?”

He shakes his head.

“Steph Curry?”

Again another head shake.

You chuckled, “Well those are the only basketball players I know so I give up.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the slightest smile from on his lips which you took as encouragement to continue.

“Oh so did he just score a touchdown?”, you asked. In reality you knew that was a completely different sport, but you were hoping that somehow this would get a little engagement on his part.

You looked at him expectantly noticing his cheeks heat up under your stare.

“Umm n-no that was a free throw, not a touchdown.”

“Hmm and a free throw is worth one or two points?”

“It’s w-worth one point.”

You didn’t want to over stress him out so you decided to give him some quiet and stop with the questions for a while.

The referee in the game blew his whistle and started making a bunch of hand gestures. You were about to lean over and ask about it when a bright flash of light shown through the windows followed by a loud clap of thunder. The floor beneath your feet seemed to shake from the force. Another flash of light lit up the room and some more thunder hit making even you jump a little.

“Wow that’s some storm.”, you said looking over at Yoongi only to be met with nothing.

“Yoongi?”, you question looking around the room wondering how he was able to get up and run so fast.

After standing up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen to see if maybe he had went in there you saw the fleece blanket he was holding earlier leaning up against the back of the couch and thanks to the added light from another lightning strike you noticed that the blanket was also covering a lump. Getting closer you saw little tufts of black hair poking out. Gently you reached and pulled the blanket down slightly. You could feel your heart breaking seeing him like this. Curled up in a ball with his hands over his ears and tears on his cheeks.

“Yoongi it’s okay. It’s just a thunderstorm.”, you said trying to soothe him. When your words didn’t seem to help you went to reach for his hand feeling him tense at your touch.

“No please don’t hurt me. Please.”, he cried out making you recoil. “Yoongi it’s Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you. Just let me get you to be-.” You felt a hand on your should and found Mae looking down at you with a sad expression on her face. She bent down the best she could in her old age to get his attention and when he finally recognized her the tension seemed to leave his body, at least momentarily until another crack of thunder rang through the air.

Mae helped him up off the ground and you’d stayed m back watching as she helped him down the hall, his legs shaking ever so slightly. Just before they entered his room Mae turned to you and pointed towards the kitchen. You took the hint and went to get a couple cups of tea ready.

After about fifteen minutes she returned and took a seat next to you thanking you for the tea.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”, she sighed.

“No I just, I don’t, I…”, you couldn’t find the words. You knew it was slightly odd for a grown adult to be that petrified of a thunderstorm, but you knew there must be a reason. Judging by Mae’s reaction this seemed to be a common occurrence. You just didn’t know how to move forward without sounding rude.

“Mae, please forgive me if this comes off to forward or harsh, but has some thing happened to Yoongi in his past?”

She took a sip of tea before getting more comfortable in the chair and nodding her head.

“Yes dear. Yoongi, my sweet sweet Yoongi, has been through a lot. More than any person should have to especially at his young age. You see Yoongi’s father left a few weeks after he was born. Yoongi was born too early and was very small and sickly. His father didn’t want any part of his life. My daughter did the best she could with Yoongi. I helped whenever I could as well. She was such a loving mother. When Yoongi was about two years old she married a man who I didn’t necessarily approve of, but there was nothing I could do. She was an adult and she seemed happy. He quickly moved my daughter and Yoongi to the other side of the country. I only got to see them a couple times year. I started to have suspicions that something was wrong when Yoongi was four years old. I went to visit and noticed that my daughter and Yoongi both had old bruises. When I questioned it my daughter claimed that she tripped while carrying him and fell down some stairs. Then when Yoongi was six he told me how he had heard his mom and stepdad in their bedroom making lots of noise. His mom was yelling and there were loud bangs, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. I questioned her once again and she said that her and her husband must’ve just gotten too loud while in bed together and that she’d remind him in the future that they needed to be quieter. I wasn’t completely convinced, but I had no other proof.”

Mae took a long breath clear that this was hard for her to recall and you were starting to feel guilty for even asking.

She continued on, “When Yoongi was about seven his mom got very sick and unfortunately passed away. I tried to visit him more, but as time went on his step dad cut me off more and more. I tried getting a court involved, but he was considered his legal guardian and without any significant proof there was nothing they could do. So I tried to do what I could. Over time I noticed a change in Yoongi. He was sadder, seemed more down on himself. I rarely ever saw that smile that used to melt my heart. He was having a hard time at school. The friends he had stopped hanging out with him. Then one day when he was around thirteen he said something back to his stepdad and his stepdad beat him so badly the neighbors ended up calling the police because of the noise.”

She stopped to take a shaky breath. Tears forming in her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that you had started biting your bottom lip trying to stop your own tears from falling until the subtle taste of blood hit your tongue.

Once again she continued, “Thankfully his stepfather was arrested that night and eventually sentenced to forty five years in prison, but it was already too late and the damage was done. When I got to the hospital that night they started showing me different x-rays and scans and going over Yoongi’s injuries. It was worse than I had ever thought. There were old fractures that hadn’t healed correctly. Scars both fresh and old covered his body from where his stepfather would beat him with a tree branch or use his skin to put out his cigarettes. He had torn his shoulder at one point and because it was never properly taken care of he’s always in pain, even to this day. He had surgery to correct it, but it only helped a little. I cried in the hospital. He was released after a week and came to live here with me. I was taking him to therapy a couple times a week and he seemed to be getting on the right track. He was smiling more and getting a little more talkative. I had enrolled him in the high school here and he made a couple friends. I knew there’d always be a part of him that struggled, but I thought that maybe he was going to be able to move past all of this for the most part and go on to have a happy healthy life. When he was in his second to last year of high school there was going to be a big dance and after some convincing he asked a girl to go with him as a date and she said yes. So I got him a brand new suit and the day of the dance we went and picked out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. I offered to drive him, but he didn’t want to be embarrassed by his grandma driving him around, you know how teenagers are. So I watched him walk out the door.”

Mae took a moment to composer herself by staring out the kitchen window. You in no way wanted to rush her.

She took another sip and then went on, “I was in the kitchen a little while later when I heard the front door swing open and slam back shut. I thought it was much too early for Yoongi to be home already and assumed it must be some guests so I cleaned myself up real quick and walked out to greet them, but instead…instead I found Yoongi with tears streaming down his cheeks and then I noticed his suit was covered in brightly colored paint. He still had the bouquet of flowers in his hand except they were now all damaged and dirty. He refused to tell me what happened and ran off to his room. Monday morning I went to the school and apparently the girl and some of her friends, including her actual date, were all waiting for Yoongi to show up at the school. When he got there they all poured cans of paint onto him and called him a freak and a monster. I was told that one of the other boys saw Yoongi’s scars when they were changing for gym class and started making fun of him for it. This girl had no intention of actually going to the dance with him and told him he was ugly and would never be loved because of the way he looked. I tried to have all of those kids reprimanded, but Yoongi refused to cooperate so the school said their hands were tied. He begged me to take him out of school and homeschool him instead which I did, but he’s been pretty much to himself ever since.”

By this point you were full on balling your eyes out. You hadn’t known him for very long, but you could just tell that he was such a sweet gentle person. You didn’t think there could possibly be any thing else that Mae could tell you, but she cleared her throat and went on,

“Honestly, I think the worst thing that ever happened to him was the letter he received from his biological father on his twenty first birthday. I actually still have the letter. I’ve been holding onto it because I think it would be beneficial for Yoongi to be the one to destroy it, but I don’t know how to bring it up to him.”

She slid the letter across the table to you. Shakily you opened it up and immediately noticed the tear smudged ink and you took a deep breath trying to compose yourself before diving in,

“To Yoongi,

You most likely have no idea who I am, but I am your biological father. I left not long after you were born and if my calculations are correct you should be twenty one years old today. You were born early, somehow I’m certain that was your mothers fault even though the doctors said it was not. Anyways, you were born very small and sick. The doctors did not know if you would make it and to be honest I spent most of the time hoping that you wouldn’t. I did not want the burden of having a son, especially a first born, that was weak and useless. I gave your mother an ultimatum, either abandon you and we will move on and have a child that will prosper and do well in life or she can keep you and I will leave. Obviously you see what she chose. I heard that your mother has passed away since then. She was an ignorant woman anyways, wasting her time with a child like you. I told her that you weren’t worth the time which has been proven by the fact that you still live with your grandmother working at that stupid inn. You’ll never be anything more than that. I don’t really know the point of this letter any more. I guess I’m just a little drunk and wanted to get this off my chest after all of these years. Yoongi, I do wish you well. Truly I do because I know deep down that you’ll never achieve it. With regret, Your Father.”

You don’t know at what point you went from crying to blood boiling anger, but it happened.

“What the actual fuck!”, you shouted slamming the letter down on the table. “Sorry, excuse my language.”, you said towards Mae suddenly feeling bad about your outburst. She chuckled, “Don’t worry dear. I said much much worse when I read that letter.”

You continued, “Seriously? Who does something like that? And to their own child on top of it? You walked out of his life let him be. That letter was completely unnecessary. I swear I’m gonna hunt him down and kill him myself.”

Mae shook her head, “No need Y/N. After he dropped the letter off at the post office he drunkingly crashed his car into a tree. Killed him instantly. Unfortunately though, Yoongi never really recovered from this letter. He’s been very reserved and depressed ever since. He’s refused therapy or any help that I offer. I’ve tried for many years to get him to make friends or find a partner or just get out of the house and experience life. I won’t be here forever and I want him to find someone and just be happy for the rest of his time.”

While you would normally never wish harm on anyone it did bring you some joy knowing that his father was no longer around and could never hurt Yoongi again.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to drop all of this on you, but I thought you should get an explanation for what you saw earlier and why he is the way that he is. Yoongi can be kind of jumpy around loud noises and sudden movements and things like that. Please don’t run away from him. I’ve seen him smile more in the week you’ve been here than he has in months. He just sees something in you. I can tell. Call it grandmas intuition if you will. I know you’ll soon have to go back home, but I’m really hoping that maybe you’ll keep in touch with him. No pressure of course. I wouldn’t blame you for not doing it, but I just really think you could be a big positive in his life.”, she said before walking her mug over to the sink.

“Thank you for telling me all of this. I’m sure it was difficult to recount everything.”, you said almost in a whisper. She smiled before laying a hand on your shoulder, “Get some rest Y/N. I’m gonna head off to bed myself. These old bones are tired.”

As you laid in bed you could still hear the faint rumblings of thunder from miles away. You wondered what Yoongi was doing. You hoped he was peacefully sleeping in his bed, but you knew most like that wasn’t the case. It pained your heart to think about what he’d been through. No one deserved to ever have those things happen to them and you decided in that moment that you were going to try and help him. You yourself felt the connection that Mae keeps talking about and you were starting think that maybe things do happen for a reason.

The following morning when you woke up your body felt sore from the stress you experienced. Your first reaction was to go and find Yoongi, but you also knew that he was most likely going to feel embarrassed about what had happened the night before so you opted to take a seat at the desk and try to get some work done. After about an hour and only a couple paragraphs written the smell of bacon started to fill the air and the sound of your stomach grumbling in hunger followed not long after. In the kitchen you found Mae at the stove tending to the bacon. “Would you like some coffee Y/N?”, she smiled. You nodded happily taking the cup from her. Yoongi was already sitting at the table peeling some carrots and potatoes for what you assumed would become part of dinner later. You tried your best to act causally as you took a seat a chair away from him to give him some space.

Mae walked over and set a plate of eggs down in the middle of the table along with the bacon. After Yoongi cleared the vegetables that he was working on the three of you began eating your breakfast.

Mae peaked over at you and with a sly grin she began, “Y/N, thank you for bringing that strawberry pie from Taehyung’s last night. I already snuck a piece as I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh you’re very welcome. It did look delicious.”, you replied waiting to see where she was going with this.

“I’m going to make them a big pot of pork stew. It’ll be a good hearty meal for them while they work on the farm. I was thinking that maybe you and Yoongi could take it over to them when it’s finished.”

Now you get it. It was an easy yes for you. You really did like all of the boys from the farm and it would be a chance to spend a little time with Yoongi, but you couldn’t help but notice how red his cheeks had gotten once again and his shoulders visibly tensed. You weren’t going to force him by any means.

“Uh yeah sure that’s no problem for me. I can go alone though if Yoongi doesn’t want to go.”

“Yoongi would you be okay taking some stuff over to the farm with Y/N? For me please.”, Mae asked placing her hand on top of his.

“Okay.”, he whispered with his eyes focused on his lap.

A few hours later your little cart was packed up with a large pot of the stew and some fresh bread and jam. You and Yoongi headed off towards the farm. The first half of the walk was silent other than a few birds or rustle of leaves here or there.

“I’m sorry about last night. If I had known it was going to storm I would’ve stayed in my room to not disturb you.”, he spoke startling you out of your thoughts.

“Yoongi you don’t have to be sorry. And please don’t ever hide who you are from anyone. If they can’t handle who you are then they don’t deserve you in their life.”

He nodded in understanding pulling on his ear. A nervous habit of his. Feeling a little brave you reached for his hand to give it a light squeeze. He jumped slightly, but for a few seconds he let you hold him before removing his touch from yours. You were going to take that as a win.

Entering the strawberry farm you were quickly greeted by Jin and Namjoon. “Hi Y/N, didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”, Jin smiled.

“Mae wanted us to bring over some stew and bread as a thank you for the pie.”, you responded handing over the items from the cart. Jungkook appears out of nowhere excitedly grabbing the bread and jam from you.

“Jeeze I haven’t seen this kid all day, but as soon as food is involved he magically appears.”, Jin rolled his eyes. Taehyung came walking over after noticing your arrival. He wrapped you in a big hug and began making small talk. You could feel Yoongi’s presence behind you. He was almost using your body to shield himself away from everyone.

Taehyung gestured for you to follow him, “Y/N and Yoongi come on into the bakery. We’ve got a new strawberry milk latte we just put on the menu and I want your opinion. Personally I think it’s wayyyy too sweet, but Jin thinks it could be award winning.”

Jin scoffed, “You don’t even like coffee so your opinion means nothing.”

“I think it’s amazing.”, Jungkook added.

“You’d drink lake water and say it was good if we put a flavored milk in it.”, Namjoon quipped.

Chuckling at the argument going on infront of you it took about twelve steps before you realized your shadow was not behind you. When you turned you saw Yoongi was already walking back towards the path to the inn. Namjoon came up behind you and gave you a nudge in Yoongi’s direction and you knew what he meant. Jogging up next to him you reached for his arm, but opted not to as you’d quickly learned touch is not his first choice.

“Hey where are you going? Come hang out with us at the bakery.”, you said once you caught up to him.

He simply shook his head and kept walking.

“They’re really nice guys. They were asking about you yesterday. I think you’d really like them if you gave them a chance.”

Still he continued walking in silence. Without thinking you reached out to grab his arm just in an attempt to stop him, but he flinched.

“No. I just want to be left alone. Please.”, he whimpered near tears.

Instantly you backed off with your hands in the air to give him space and show that you weren’t going to touch him.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I won’t force you to hang out with them. I just wanted you to get to know them a little. I think it would be good for you.”

He ignored you and began walking back home again. You sent Taehyung a quick text apologizing for your sudden departure and letting him know you’d stop by on a different day to try the latte before you left. Yoongi walked surprisingly fast so you had to go back into a light jog to catch up. You decided to hang back a little and not walk right next to him so you weren’t suffocating him. You pretended not to notice him peeking back to look at you every once in a while.

As you walked you noticed a few cherry blossom trees just over a hill. You’d completely forgot about the trees and made yourself a mental note to go see them before you left Holly Falls. When you finally made it back to the inn Yoongi was waiting for you at the front door.

“You didn’t have to walk back with me. I’m an adult and I could walk back myself.”, he said with a pout.

“I know. I just wanted to come back with you.”

“But what about hanging out with them?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll go back another time. I’d rather hang out with you anyways.” His face instantly turned a deep shade of red.

“So tell me, what does Yoongi like to do in his spare time?”, you questioned.

“I’d rather just be alone to be honest.”

You wanted to push him harder, but you were concerned with what the outcome might be so instead you gave him a smile and watched as be walked inside letting the door close behind him. Dropping down to take a seat on the steps you let out a long sigh. This was going to be more difficult than you had imagined and to make matters worse you were only supposed to stay for another week.

“Excuse me miss, are there any rooms available?”, someone spoke making you to jump. Since your head was hanging you hadn’t noticed the young man walk up to the front door of the inn. You took in his appearance and noticed how exceptionally handsome he was.

“I just came from the main part of the town and there are no rooms available so it was suggested that I come over here.”, he continued.

“Oh um well I think there might be a couple rooms left, but I’m just a guest as well. If you head inside the check in desk is in the corner and they can help you out.”

The handsome man held out his hand for you, “Sorry I didn’t mean to assume anything. My name is Jimin by the way.”

You smiled graciously accepting his hand, “Y/N and no worries. Hopefully you can get a room. It would be nice to have another person around here to talk to and stuff.”

He chuckled, “Well I guess I better get in there then and see about a room.”

You gently leaned to the side to give home more space to get by before you returned back to wondering how you could get Yoongi to open up to you a little more without making him too uncomfortable.

After he had walked inside Yoongi took a deep breath and after a quick heated discussion with himself going over all the pros and cons he decided that giving you twenty minutes of his time to talk would be good for him and maybe over time he could work up the courage to actually spend time with you, maybe even like a date before you left. The thought of that made his head spin. Just as he was about to open the door to find you he heard your conversation with Jimin and how you said you were glad there was going to be someone else at the inn. He felt his heart crack at that. In Yoongi’s brain you were already done with him just like everyone else in his life, except his grandmother of course. He always managed to chase everyone away. He quickly accepted that he was a lost cause so he scurried off to be alone in his room before you or the new guest could see him. Once in his room he heard you introduce Jimin to Mae. Your voice sounded excited as you showed Jimin to his room just down the hall from yours.

Yoongi sat on his bed squeezing his favorite stuffed animal, a blue koala bear named Koya, a gift from his mother just before she had passed.

He heard you let out a loud laugh at something funny Jimin had said and he curled up on his bed feeling the tears start to fall.

He hated that he was like this. He wanted to be what he would consider normal, but there was this little part of his brain that always reminds him of what he’s been through and how many times he been told how unwanted and unloved he is. Even if he did manage to speak to you he’d never want to burden you with having someone like him in your life. He needs a lot of mental care and you don’t deserve to have someone that week. So he chose to lie in his bed squeezing his Koya a little closer every time he heard you laugh in the hallway wishing it was him that was making react like that instead. Your laugh was just as pretty as you are he thought. With each passing minute he could feel the panic setting in more and more and he eventually used the koala bear to muffle the sobs leaving his body not wanting to disturb you any further.

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi au #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #kim seokjin #namjoon #jungkook #taehyung #jimin #hoseok #TheInterludeInn

[mint-yooxgi]

Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Yes, all 8 of them)

Words: 13,318

Warnings: One stabbing mention. Seonghwa gets a little handsy at one point. The boys are very horny for the OC. I make too many direct references to the song and its lyrics, don’t at me please. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: You know, I never expect a simple Drabble to turn into this beast right here, but I'm happy with the way it turned out. Not gonna lie, this fic is a bit self-indulgent at certain parts, but what fic isn’t? Lmaoo anyways, I do not believe Ateez would ever act like this. This is just my interpretation of this particular Drabble request and the yandere archetype. I really hope you all like this one; feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~ (Seriously though guys, please don’t let this flop haha)

Extra: The whole time I was writing this, I had a chubby!reader in mind, but I don’t explicitly describe anything that would indicate that so I don’t feel right tagging it as such. Just know it’s heavily implied, but anyone can read this!!

Mini Masterlist

Driving down the dark desert highway, cool wind whips through your hair. The sun has slowly been setting, its last few rays of light drifting over the land and casting shadows in their wake.

You've been on the road all day, having had the urge to take a spontaneous road trip by yourself. Work has been really hectic lately, so since you have the next three days off, you decided to use them to your advantage.

The only problem is, the last sign of civilization you passed was forty minutes down the road, and you're not quite sure when the next hotel, or even a place to stop for the evening might pop up. Luckily, within the next five minutes, it seems as if your thoughts have been answered, for a hotel appears in the distance.

Pulling into the parking lot, you eye the place skeptically. For a building right smack in the middle of the desert, it sure doesn't look like one. The bright stone walls practically shine beneath the light of the now risen full moon, the place looking more like a resort than anything. Hopefully it's not too expensive then.

Cutting the engine after rolling up the windows, you let out a long breath through your nose. Slowly, you step out of the car, rolling your neck all the while. Standing only makes you realize just how stiff your entire body is, stretching your arms and back out slightly before you slam the car door shut.

Oddly enough, there are no other cars in the parking lot, save for your own. Your brow furrows slightly as you make your way towards the front entrance. Though, you suppose it makes sense. You are in the middle of the desert.

Pushing open the door, you immediately feel the affects of the air conditioned lobby, your shoulders subconsciously relaxing as you step inside. Your eyes skim the name of the hotel as you enter- HALA HALA- it's modern design seeming to fit it well.

Walking up to the reception desk, you notice that no one seems to be in sight. Perhaps you missed someone on your way in, so you opt to turn around, giving the lobby a quick sweep with your eyes. Still, you fail to see anybody, so you turn back around. Maybe there’s a bell you can ring or something.

Your whole body jumps as you see a man now standing behind the counter, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. His split dyed black and blond hair is slicked back and a smile rests on his features.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He says. "My name is Hongjoong, and I'm the manager of this hotel here. How may we be of service?"

You blink, needing a moment to collect your thoughts before you're able to remember the reason why you're here. 

"Oh, right." You chuckle, somewhat awkwardly. "How much is a single room for the weekend? Two nights in particular?"

"Hmm, let's see," Hongjoong hums, typing something into the computer in front of him. His eyes scan the screen, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're in luck. We're having a special this weekend only on our single rooms. Two nights for the price of one."

Your jaw nearly drops at the amount he tells you. "Seriously?"

"Of course." He smiles.

"Great." You say, shock still clear on your face at the outrageously low amount he's quoted you. "I'll take it."

"Perfect." Hongjoong purrs out, eyes becoming hooded as he gives you a quick once over.

Again, you blink, and as soon as you do, his expression is back to being chipper once more. Without another thought, you're reaching into your purse to pull out your credit card, handing it over to Hongjoong in the next moment.

It only takes him a few minutes to ring you up, handing you your card back in the next moment.

"If you have any bags, Wooyoung will be more than happy to help you with them." Hongjoong smiles at you yet again, to which you return.

Thanking him with a nod of your head, you take the keycard he hands you. A shiver runs down his spine as his fingers graze yours, but luckily, you do not seem to notice. 

In the next moment, you go to turn around, coming face to face with yet another man who seemingly appears from thin air.

"Need any help with your bags?" The new male asks, completely oblivious to the startle he just gave you.

"Oh, uh," you stammer out a reply, eyes drifting to another man who now sits on one of the front couches reading a newspaper. You swear he snorts out a laugh at the scene that's just played out before him. Weird, you could have sworn there was no one else in the lobby before. "I think I'm okay, but thanks for the offer."

"Really, it's no problem at all." He insists, already following you out of the front doors and back to your car.

"No, really," you huff out a faint laugh, reaching into the front seat to grab your backpack. "I only have the one."

What you fail to see as you lean into your car, is the way Wooyoung eyes you up and down. Licking his lips, his gaze settles on your ass, thoughts already running wild with what he wants to do with you. Finally, you’re here.

Blinking to clear his thoughts as you pull yourself back out of your car, he grins. Before you can protest, he's slipping your backpack out of your hand and slinging it over his shoulder.

"After you." Wooyoung's eyes shine as he watches disbelief paint your features, followed slowly by acceptance.

Pride fills his chest as you begin to lead him back into the hotel and to your assigned room for the weekend. He can feel Yunho's eyes piercing into his back as he walks past with you in front, the jealousy clear as day within the older male's gaze. The sound of paper rustling from behind him has a smirk pulling on Wooyoung's lips.

Reaching your room, you go to unlock the door.

A gasp escapes your lips as you step through the threshold, and Wooyoung knows that he's going to have to share with his brothers later the memory of that beautiful awestruck expression painting your face. Only, in the next second, worry takes its place.

"I don't think your boss gave me the key to the right room." You say, eyes taking in the grandiose space. "This looks like the Presidential Suite."

"It is." Wooyoung hums, placing your backpack carefully onto the chair beside him once he fully steps into the room.

"This can't be right." You shake your head, moving to rush past him and back into the hall.

"You asked for the single room, didn't you?" He quirks a brow, stepping in front of you to block your path.

"I did, but-"

"Then this is the right room." He assures you. "It is what you payed for."

"I don't think it is," you say, sidestepping him and moving into the hallway.

You manage to make it all the way back to the lobby in no time, walking straight up to the reception desk to see if you can catch Hongjoong once more. Unfortunately, he doesn't appear to be anywhere in sight, nor does that man from earlier that had been sitting and reading the newspaper on the couch. Wooyoung has up and disappeared on you, too. You sigh.

"How may I help you?"

"Holy-" you startle, spinning around to see another unfamiliar man now standing behind the reception desk. Yet again, it's like he’s appeared out of thin air. You clear your throat. "Uh, is Hongjoong around? I need to speak with him."

"He's busy at the moment, unfortunately." The man smiles kindly at you. "I'm Seonghwa, the assistant manager. I'm more than happy to help if there's something wrong. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, uh, there's no problem, really," you clarify, a nervous pull to your lips. "I just think Hongjoong gave me the key to the wrong room."

"Did he?" Seonghwa hums, somewhat amusedly. He doesn't blame Hongjoong one bit. The poor male was probably too distracted by your beauty, and the fact that he was finally seeing you in person for the first time. "Let me check for you."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." You smile, handing the key card to him over the counter. This time, it’s Seonghwa who shivers as his fingers brush your own. ”I think he accidentally gave me the card to the Presidential Suite or something."

Swiping the card through the reader, Seonghwa types a few things on the keyboard. A few moments later, he's placing the keycard back in front of you on the counter.

"No, everything's right on our end. That's the correct key." He informs you.

Your eyes widen, lips parting as clear disbelief takes over your features. "You're sure?”

"Positive." Seonghwa smiles, purposely sliding the card closer to you. "Our policy here is to always put our guests' pleasure above anything else. So really, your reaction to the room is the highest compliment you could give us."

"I- uh-" you blink, taken aback by his words. "Sure?" You don't quite know how to respond, but you take the keycard back, nonetheless. "Thanks."

"Of course." Seonghwa straightens the front of his blazer out, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "I live to serve."

Though he fails to add a key word to the end of his sentence. Most certainly does he live to serve, to please. Most importantly, though, he lives to serve and please you.

“Okay…" Brushing off his words, you turn back around, shooting him a subtle side eyed look at his last comment once he can no longer see your face. 

Heading back to your room, you shake your head, muttering about how odd this place is. First, it's literally in the middle of nowhere. Secondly, the exterior and interior looks brand new, much too pristine for the likes of the desert. Third, you've barely seen another occupant in this hotel besides the staff and that one guy from earlier. Fourth, a single room means the equivalent of a Presidential Suite. And finally, the prices are apparently dirt cheap.

Seriously, just what is going on here?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts once more, you reenter your room. Well, if you’ve technically payed for it, you might as well enjoy it.

Ten minutes later and you finally figure out how the jacuzzi tub works, allowing your body to sink into the frothing bubbles. The scent of lilac and honey drifts through the air, the complimentary soaps feeling fancier than anything you've ever experienced in your life.

Soaking in the tub for a bit, you allow yourself to relax, basking in the way the water seemingly eases the tension from your body. The only thing that could make this better would be a glass of wine, and maybe a massage, but that can wait for another time.

You close your eyes, letting your head fall back against the headrest as a content sigh leaves your lips. You haven't felt this relaxed in a long time.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of lustful eyes watches from the shadows. More than anything, wanting desperately to join you. To truly help you relax, in any and every way you desire.

Once you're done, you're quick to dry off, changing into a fresh pair of clothes. Smiling at your reflection in the mirror, you wink at yourself, blowing a kiss in the next moment. You need to start appreciating yourself more. Besides, you look damn good, if you do say so yourself!

Immediately, a thud sounds from behind you, making your heart skip a beat in your chest. Whipping around, your eyes scan the bathroom, searching for anything that could have made that loud noise. Nothing seems out of place, so it doesn’t look like anything could have fallen.

Odd. If you didn't know any better, it almost sounded like someone ran into something, or even stubbed their toe.

You frown, shaking your head. You've had a long drive, and an even longer day. You're probably just imagining things. Besides, you could really use that drink now.

Making your way back towards the lobby, you wander aimlessly, not really sure where to go. You're sure this hotel has a bar somewhere, you're just not sure which direction it would be in. Luckily for you, a plaque that you hadn't noticed before on the wall points you in the direction that you're looking for.

Stepping into the bar area, once again you're taken aback by how empty the place is. Well, empty except for the lone man standing behind the counter wiping at a glass with a cloth in his hand.

Walking up to the counter, you sit down at one of the stools, returning the kind smile the bartender sends your way.

"What can I get for you, pretty one?" The man asks, placing the glass onto the counter in front of himself.

You look down at the pristine wood beneath your hands as a warmth blooms on your cheeks. "Surprise me."

The man takes a moment to observe you carefully, his lips twitching upwards at the corners from seeing the affect his words have on you.

"I know just the thing," he replies, already moving to grab all of the ingredients he'll need to make you a drink. Two minute later and he pushes the now full glass towards you. "Et voila."

"Wow," grabbing the glass with a wonder filled expression, you take a sip. "This is my favourite drink. You must be a mind reader!"

You fail to see the way his brow quirks ever so slightly at your words, his smile turning nervous in the blink of an eye. Just as quickly as the expression appears, it's gone.

"So, what has you here on a Friday night?" He leans against the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he rests his forearms on the edge of the wood. "Lover got you down?"

Your eyes widen, and you're quick to shake your head. "Oh, no. Definitely not."

"Huh," he has to hide the pleased smirk that threatens to pull onto his lips as he confirms what he and his brothers have only hoped. This makes things so much easier. "That's hard to believe, given a pretty one like you."

For the second time this evening, pride swells in his chest at seeing the affect his words have on you.

"Thank you," you mutter, not quite used to men being this bold with you upfront. "You're very kind, uh-"

"Mingi." He replies. “Please. Call me Mingi."

"Well, Mingi," the way you say his name has a pleasant shiver running down his spine. "You're sweet."

The smile that radiates from him nearly knocks the breath out of you.

"Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you," he says, and his eyes flash. "Anything at all."

"Yeah, actually," you nod a few times, looking around the room as if you’re afraid of being overheard. "Be honest," you lean in slightly and he can feel his heart beginning to race in his chest, "is the room service here good?"

"Uh," his brain malfunctions as his eyes glance down to your lips, a completely different form of room service other than what you probably intend flitting through his mind. One which he and his brothers would be more than happy to provide for you. 

He swallows the sudden dryness in his throat. Thank fuck you don't seem to notice.

"You know, since you probably have an in with the cooks cause you're the bartender, and all." Your voice manages to pull him back to reality, and out of his all too vivid thoughts of what kind of room service he could provide for you. "Anything you would recommend? I'm starving."

"Oh, if you're hungry, why didn't you just say so?" He chuckles. "I'll order something for you, and have them bring it over to you here."

"That'd be great, thanks!" You reply happily, taking another sip of your drink. "I don't have any food allergies, by the way. Well, except for lactose, but it's more of an irritant than anything. No heavy creams or full glasses of milk."

Mingi blinks at you, and your mouth parts, a heat once again rising up your neck and all the way up your face. You can't believe you just said all that. To a stranger, no less. 

A smile spreads across his lips, "got it. Thanks for letting me know."

Of course, they all know everything about you. Well, not everything. Yet. Still, it means so much to him how open you already are with him. Mingi knew you'd be perfect for him, for all of them. This just proves it even more.

Heading over to the tablet that he's left at the end of the bar to place an order for you, Mingi's heart warms. Already, he and some of his brothers have been able to show you how well they can take care of you, how well they can provide for you. All so that you will become theirs. And you will be, all in due time. After all, once they have you in their sights, you’ll never be able to leave them again.

"Lucifer Morningstar!" Mingi curses as he rounds the corner of the counter, the thud echoing in your ears as his knee makes contact with the side of the bar.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" Your eyes widen, watching as he hunches over, hands placed over his one knee as he balances on his opposite foot.

You fail to see the way his eyes flash for the briefest of moments at your own exclamation.

"Yeah," he lets out a breath, easing into one of the barstools beside him. "I'll be fine."

"Ouch," you wince, thinking of how hard he must have banged his knee to have exclaimed that loudly. Speaking of, his words echo through your head, and you cannot contain the laugh that escapes you. When you see him turn his attention from the tablet to look at you, you wave a hand apologetically in the air in front of you. "Sorry, I've just never heard anyone use that exclamation before. Usually, they swear, or say ‘Jesus Christ’, or something like that."

It's low, but you swear you hear a growl reverberate throughout the room.

"Oh," Mingi laughs awkwardly, a nervousness to his demeanour all of a sudden. "Yeah, it's just something my brothers and I always say instead of your typical exclamations."

"Huh," you nod, turning back to the drink still held in your hands. "Interesting."

Not even ten minutes later, another man is entering the bar area with a plate of steaming food in his hands. Jealousy flares within him as he sees you conversing so casually with his brother, a soft smile he's only ever dreamed about being directed towards him resting on your face.

You hardly notice the new presence in the room, but Mingi does, causing a smirk to subtly pull at his features. You're simply too busy conversing with him at the moment. That is, until movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention.

"One freshly cooked meal for the lovely lady," the man says with a flirty smile as he places the plate of steaming food in front of you.

Thanking him politely, you're quick to turn back to Mingi once more. The men at this hotel certainly are something else.

"Okay, have we met before?" Your eyes narrow teasingly at the bartender who sits a few seats away from you. "Twice now you've made my favourite things."

"Hey now," the other man chimes in, a teasing lilt to his voice. "I was the one who cooked it. He didn't make squat."

He continues to stare at you, almost expectantly now, and you're quick to avert your gaze. Turning back to your food, you grab the fork that's been provided, and take a bite.

"Holy shit." You say once you've swallowed the food in your mouth. "This is incredible."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Lovely." The man replies, eyes shining with a certain fondness as he watches you eat what he’s prepared for you.

"Seriously, this is best dish of this that I’ve ever had," you say, placing another forkful into your mouth.

He chuckles, loving the way your praise has Mingi glaring dagger at him. Serves him right.

"Oh, where are my manners?" He tuts at himself. "My name is San, and I am very pleased to meet you."

Suddenly, your hand is in his, and he's bringing his lips down to place a gentle kiss onto your skin. Tingles erupt throughout his own body wherever he makes contact with yours, and he has to stop the rumble of contentment that builds within his chest from escaping.

Again, you're taken aback by his boldness, and you swear you see something in Mingi's eyes flash black as San does this. Only, when you blink, it's like nothing ever happened. Weird.

The next hour is spent with the both of them at the bar, simply conversing with each other. You can't count the amount of times they've successfully made you laugh, or even shy at some of the things they say, but they are. 

Purposefully, each time one of them does something that has you reacting a certain way, the other is sure to do the same. There's no way they're letting each other one up them. That is, until Hongjoong is scolding them within their mind's link to knock it off.

All too soon for their liking, you're heading off to bed, much to their disappointment. It is late at night, and you have had a long day. Needless to say, it's starting to all catch up to you. You can feel the exhaustion beginning to claw at your mind.

Falling into the plush bed, you're practically out as soon as your head hits the pillows. Funny, you could have swore you saw something shift within the darkness of your room just before you closed your eyes. Only, you find you're too tired to care, quickly falling into the realm of your subconscious as sleep takes hold.

Within the confines of your room, two figures materialize from the shadows. Carefully, one moves to stand beside you while the other gently sits on the opposite side of the bed.

"I still can't believe that she’s here," Jongho says breathlessly, hand reaching out to caress the side of your face.

"Finally, we have her," Yunho replies, feeling as wonderstruck as Jongho right now.

You shift slightly, breath hitching in your throat. 

They both freeze. Luckily, you don't seem to wake, allowing them to breathe a sigh of relief as they continue to watch over you as you sleep.

“She's so beautiful," Jongho watches you in awe, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek as his heart soars in his chest.

Yunho hums his agreement, his eyes flashing briefly in the darkness. "Ours."

"Ours." Jongho confirms, a content smile pulling at his lips as his own eyes flash, watching over you like he always should. Like he always will be. From now, until forever.

Morning comes with bright light streaming in through the large windows, the sun's rays warming you as you stretch your body out on the bed. A yawn escapes your lips as you rub at your eyes. Sitting up, you throw off the covers, making your way to the bathroom to freshen up for the day.

One look outside the windows, and at your weather app, has a sigh escaping you. It's going to be awfully hot today, the sun shining unapologetically in the sky with few clouds drifting along. In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder what else there is to do in this hotel.

Opening the door to your room, you go to step into the hallway, only for your path to be blocked. Sitting there in front of you is a trolley, what appears to be an extravagant spread of food placed precariously before you. At least, you're hoping that that's what's beneath all these trays with metal food coverings on them.

Leaning out into the hall, you shift your head from side to side, attempting to see if this cart was meant for anyone else. When you don't see anyone around, you look back at the cart. This time, your eyes catch on a folded card placed just beside the small vase with a single red rose held within.

Picking up the note, you're quick to open it, seeing as it's addressed to you. You blink as you read the note over a few times, a soft smile painting your features, yet still surprised, nonetheless.

Please enjoy this complementary breakfast from us to you.

~ Your friends at HALA HALA

Rolling the cart into your room, you're quick to remove all of the coverings. The smell of your favourite breakfast foods greet you as you take in the fresh spread before you. Your jaw nearly drops, torn between thinking that this is incredible, and that something strange is going on here.

Oh well, at least you're getting free food out of this.

Once you're finished eating, you clean up as best you can and head downstairs for the day. A book rests in your hand, figuring that you can find someplace quiet to read and pass the time. Maybe you’ll even listen to music while you do so. 

Reaching the lobby, you figure you can ask Hongjoong or Seonghwa where the best place to read in the hotel might be. Someplace that’s quiet. Someplace that’s comfortable. Luck seems to be on your side this morning, too, for you see both Hongjoong and Seonghwa standing behind the reception desk. They seem to be in a pretty heated discussion, their voices too low to hear even as you approach them. Once you get close enough, they're both turning to you with fond smiles on their faces. You didn't even know they saw you approaching.

"How can we help you, dear?" Seonghwa is the first to speak, meeting your gaze.

"Uh, a bit of a weird question, I know," you begin, somewhat nervously, "but where's the best place to get some reading done around here? You guys don't have a library, do you?"

Even though you say it jokingly, Hongjoong's response surprises you.

"We do," he hums, and seeing your mildly shocked expression, eyes widening and all, has a warmth flooding his veins. He knew he'd be able to impress you with the amount of time and effort they put into this place. "Unfortunately it's closed for cleaning today."

"Aw," your expression falls slightly, "darn."

"I would recommend our outdoor seating area beside the pool," Seonghwa motions a little ways off to the side, and you can see a set of glass doors leading to a courtyard of sorts. "It'll be warm today, so you can also benefit by taking a swim if you'd like.”

"Oh, no, I don't think I'll do any swimming," you shake your head.

At this, they both frown. Your words manage to pull them from their thoughts of holding you in their lap with their arms around you, their head resting on your shoulder as you read.

"Why not?" Before Seonghwa can stop himself, the question escapes him, and even the younger male beside him shoots him a look. Though, where yours is of confusion, Hongjoong's is of warning.

"This is really the best I have," you reply sheepishly, motioning down towards your outfit- a simple t-shirt and shorts- with a tilt of your head.

"Go ahead and at least dip your feet in." Hongjoong replies, softly assuring you with his next words. "No one will judge you here."

"Okay," you smile softly, "maybe I will, then."

Again, you thank the two men before you as you begin to head towards the glass doors Seonghwa pointed out to you. 

Stepping through the archway, the heavy desert heat surrounds you immediately. You let out an exhale through your nose, taking in the sight of the tropical plants around you. There's a small path leading further into the courtyard and to the pool which you can see sitting right in the centre of it. At least there appears to be tons of shade. Just how you like it.

Setting yourself up in one of the plush outdoor chaises, you kick off your sandals. 

Leaning back onto the comfortable pillows, you bring your feet up to rest on the cushion, keeping your knees bent so you can hold your book on your lap. You smile softly as a gentle breeze flits passed. 

Opening your book, you begin to read.

Not even five minutes later, a man approaches you, a glass held in his hand. You tense, worried that something's about to happen considering you're the only one sitting outside by the pool. Or so it seems.

"Here, I thought you might like a glass of water," he smiles kindly at you as he hands you the glass. "You should stay hydrated in this heat."

"Oh," you reply, placing your book down momentarily so that you can take the glass of water he's offering to you. "Thank you."

"Damn, beat me to it already," another voice says from the opposite side of you, successfully managing to startle you as you hadn't heard anyone approaching. "That's our Yeosangie for you."

"Yunho," the man you've now learned is apparently Yeosangie says, his eyes narrowing slightly at the taller male, "what are you doing here?"

The man - Yunho - is one that you recognize form last night. He was the one reading the newspaper in the lobby.

"Seonghwa told me that our very special guest here was sitting by the pool, and that I should bring her some water to help keep her hydrated." He replies, and sure enough, you see another glass of water being held in his hand. "Like I said though, it looks like you beat me to it."

"One can never have too much water," you say, catching both of their attention, and snapping them out of the pointed looks they had just been sharing.

"Right you are, gorgeous," Yunho grins, handing you the second glass.

Your brows raise slightly at the name he calls you. Hell, it seems almost all of the male workers at this hotel have called you some variation of a nickname or pet name at some point or other. Needless to say, it's a bit odd; you aren’t used to this kind of attention.

"Anyways, I'm Yunho," he says with a grin, pointing over at the shorter male in the next moment, "and that grump over there is Yeosang. If you look over there," again, Yunho points in a specific direction, drawing your gaze to the two men that have appeared on the opposite side of the pool, "that's San and Jongho. Though, I heard you already met San last night."

You nod in response, noticing how the one you've recently been told is Jongho waves quite enthusiastically at you with a large smile on his face. You huff in amusement, lips quirking upwards as you send a polite wave back. If you didn't know any better, from the way the male averts his gaze in the next moment, you'd say that you've just made him blush.

"If you need anything, do not hesitate to let us know. " Yeosang draws your attention to him once more, a certain spark lighting behind his eyes. A spark which you do not understand, but the other males do. One that is practically begging for you to come to them, to seek them out for anything and everything you might need. Anything at all.

"Thanks," you smile. "I appreciate it."

Really, you'd just like to be left alone to read your book now in peace.

"Well, we'll leave you to read in peace now," Yunho grins, walking over and wrapping his arm around Yeosang's shoulders. “Enjoy.”

Blinking in shock, your whole body tenses. Okay, this is starting to get a bit freaky. It’s almost as if Yunho just read you mind.

Shaking your head slightly to clear your thoughts, you grab your book once more. No, that isn’t possible. You’re just overthinking things due to the stressful week of work you’ve just had. This is your chance to relax, and you have every intention to do so.

Opening your book once more, you begin to read.

Across from you, the four boys converge. 

Jongho is still reeling from having you smile so brightly at him, and you waved back. Yeosang, on the other hand, crosses his arms, his eyes narrowing at the three males before him. Yunho watches you carefully from across the pool, his eyes subtly trailing over your form. Even San cannot help but drink in the exposed skin of your legs on full display, the sight of your bare thighs making his mouth water.

What each wouldn’t give to be between them right now…

“Control yourselves,” Yeosang hisses through his teeth, sending pointed looks towards San and Yunho, “the both of you.”

“Like you haven’t been thinking the exact same things since you saw them.” San rolls his eyes, keeping his voice low while Yunho just chuckles from beside him.

“At least I have some subtlety,” Yeosang huffs, annoyance clear on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest. “The decency to not have my thoughts project themselves into everyone else’s subconscious.”

Well, I for one, was rather enjoying the mental image of her lounging in that chair by the pool. Wooyoung’s voice echoes through all of their minds. I’d much rather be out there spending time with her, you lucky bastards. Instead, I’m stuck inside on cleaning duty.

Stop complaining. They can all practically hear Hongjoong roll his eyes. You’re the one who begged to be the one to tidy up her room.

That I did. Wooyoung hums. Really, you guys are missing out. Her scent is everywhere.

Now you’re just rubbing it in. Mingi sighs, and they can all hear the pout in his voice.

Oh, panties! Wooyoung cheers, and they all practically let out a groan in need. And they’ve been worn! Don’t mind if I ‘yes’.

Wooyoung. Seonghwa’s voice echoes through their heads, serving as a warning. That is, until they hear his next words. Save some for the rest of us, yeah?

You’re all despicable. Yeosang has to resist the urge to shake his head.

Says the one who was peeping on them having a bath last night. San adds, hiding his smirk behind his drink as he takes a sip.

Immediately, Yeosang’s cheeks flare, his harsh gaze landing on the aforementioned male. That’s different!

Relax. Yunho chuckles, leaning back in his own chaise as he watches you turn the next page of your book. So beautiful, and so oblivious to the desire swirling within each of them for you, and you alone.

We’ve all thought about it before. Jongho adds.

Well, some more than others. Hongjoong’s laugh reverberates through all of them. Let’s just make sure everything is ready for tonight. Then we can really have our fun.

Without hesitation, they all agree, and unbeknownst to you, four pairs of eyes turn to look at you from across the pool. You don’t even look up from your book. At least, not until movement catches your attention. Then, you cannot help the way your eyes widen, gaze flitting between the pages of your book and subtly attempting to check out the male making his way over to the edge of the pool.

"Put a shirt on, you heathen." Yeosang hisses at San. "You're making them uncomfortable.”

San simply quirks a brow, turning to face Yeosang in the next second. His expression says it all. 

A smugness soon settles over his features as he feels your gaze trailing over the expanse of his back. The skin of which he knows would look even better if it were covered in your marks. He rolls his shoulders.

Turning back around, San watches you quickly avert your gaze, focussing a little too intently on the page you’re now on in your book. He smirks, slowly sitting at the edge of the pool so that he can lower himself in. Purposefully, he tenses the muscles in his arms as he sinks in, wanting- no, needing- your gaze on him. As soon as he feels your stare, he knows he’s captivated you once more.

See? See how toned his arms are? How well they would look wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear? San bets you would sound so divine as he makes the sweetest love to you, but he knows that you’ll taste even better.

He doesn’t even need to probe your mind to know you’re thinking about him, too.

Okay, now you’re just showing off. Mingi whines.

Not my fault you got caught having to set up for tonight. San smirks, and he watches as you seemingly come back to reality, only to see that smug expression on his face. 

You avert your gaze, embarrassed you got caught staring yet again. Reaching for one of the glasses of water on the table beside you, you suddenly feel your body going hot. All of these attractive men will be the death of you, you’re sure.

You fail to see the way their lips quirk upwards as a result.

Taking a sip of water, you feel yourself start to relax at the coldness that meets your tongue. Carefully, you tilt your head to the side, placing the cool of the glass onto the skin of your neck. You let out a content hum, eyes fluttering closed as a result. At least this is helping to cool you off.

Jongho swallows the sudden dryness in his throat, and he’s knows he’s not the only one affected by your actions. The sudden display of your neck as you tilt your head back, so open and vulnerable, is practically begging for them to have a taste of your delicate skin with their tongues. Perhaps a few bite marks would suffice as well…

Thoughts of tonight, and what is still yet to come fill Jongho’s head, and he can feel the anticipation eating him alive. Making you theirs could not come soon enough.

Speaking of… Hongjoong’s voice resounds through the younger’s head. Jongho, it’s time.

The other three watch as Jongho stands from his spot, beginning to slowly make his way over to you. There’s a sort of nervousness to his steps, one which they all understand. Your answer right now will depend on how the beginning of this afternoon and evening with them will begin.

Glancing up from the pages of your book, you notice Jongho now hovering near you.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” A soft smile rests on his features as he meets your gaze, an air of nervousness surrounding him.

“Uh, sure.” You blink, quirking a brow at him in curiosity in the next second. “Those guys bothering you too much, or something?”

Even though you say it teasingly, Jongho lets out a chuckle, “you could say that.”

Slowly, and with each move deliberate, Jongho takes the seat directly beside you. It’s the closest he can get to you currently without sitting in the same chaise with you, and pulling you into his lap like he so badly wants to do.

Soon. He tells himself. He’ll be able to do that soon.

A few minutes pass by, and it kills him not to have your direct attention on him like his is so attuned to you. No, you’re still much more focussed on your book for the moment. That is, until your tongue clicks loudly, your book slamming closed once you place your bookmark carefully back inside.

“That bad, huh?” He jokes, one of his eyebrows raised in amusement as he looks at you.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you roll your eyes. “But it’s the last book in the series and I’ll be damned if I don’t see it to completion.”

“Why do you continue to read it if it’s that horrible?” Jongho’s head tilts, genuine curiosity shining in his eyes.

“Spite.” You reply immediately. “Pure spite.”

Jongho blinks, intrigued. “What’s it about?”

So you tell him, and fuck, if Jongho doesn’t fall harder for you right then and there. The passion in which you speak with, the fire he sees light behind your eyes as he watches you wave the book around in your hand, even going to far as to hit the cover a few times to emphasize your points, has him hanging on to every word. 

You’re so captivating; mesmerizing to watch and listen to, that he doesn’t even realize just how much time has passed since he first came to sit beside you. Plus, he’s gotten to learn so much about you in such a short period of time. Ecstatic doesn’t even begin to describe how he’s feeling at the moment.

The only thing that would make this moment better would be if you agreed to what he’s about to ask you.

“Anyways, sorry for the long ass rant,” you apologize, somewhat sheepishly. “There’s just so much I could say about these books and this author.”

“Never feel like you should apologize for something you’re passionate about.” Comes his honest reply. “Especially not to me. I could listen to you talk for hours.”

Jongho’s words catch you by surprise, stunning you into a shy silence. In the back of your mind, his bluntness makes something within you question his words. You’ve only just met, and he’s being very forward. Still, his smile is kind, and it causes you to crack a small one of your own.

“Really, though,” he adds, a calculating look to his gaze now. One which you miss. “We’re hosting a special dinner tonight for everyone. You should join us.”

“Everyone at the hotel?” You question, a minor furrow to your brows.

“You could say that.” Jongho nods. “We’d really love it if you could attend.”

“How fancy are we talking here?”

Jongho smiles. You seem interested, and he could not be happier. “Wear you finest.”

“Oh.” Immediately, your expression falls. “I don’t think I’ll be able to attend, then. I’m afraid I don't have anything with me that’s appropriate for a dinner like that.”

“No need to worry,” Jongho assures you. “There’s a tailor’s shop that Seonghwa runs at the far end of the hotel. I’m sure there’s something there that you can wear for the evening.”

“That’s…” you try and find the right word. Suspicious. Convenient. “Interesting.”

“Great! We’ll be expecting you around eight.” Jongho stands, and it’s only now do you realize that the other three males have vacated the vicinity, leaving the two of you utterly alone. Something in his eyes flash, the smile that paints his lips serving to unnerve you slightly. “Don’t be late.”

Without another word, or even giving you the chance to respond, Jongho is leaving you to yourself by the pool.

Glancing around, you blink a few times, hardly able to wrap your head around not even seeing the others so much as leave. Checking the time, you see that it’s about halfway past two in the afternoon. Perhaps you should go check out this tailor’s place Jongho had mentioned earlier. The last thing you want to do is be stuck without an outfit for tonight, especially if they’re now expecting you for dinner.

A few minutes later, and after dropping off your book back to your room, you’re standing in front of the doors to the tailor shop. Taking a breath, you step inside.

Quite a spacious room greets you, fairly open concept in design with clothes scattered along the walls on different racks. They seem to be organized by type, and a part of you wonders if some of these clothes have been accidentally left behind or forgotten by previous patrons of the hotel.

The sound of a curtain sliding on a rail catches your attention, and your eyes are drawn to the back of the shop where Seonghwa seems to emerge from.

“Ah, there you are. I’ve been expecting you.” He smiles, and at your questioning look, he adds, “Jongho was just here to fill me in on what you need.”

“Uh,” there’s a certain drawl to the way he says those words that have your lips parting slightly. You clear your throat. “That was quick.”

“Come.” Seonghwa seemingly brushes off your statement, turning around to step back through the way he came. “I’ve got a few options you might like.”

Following him into the back of the shop, you realize that there’s a small fitting area with a large panelled mirror positioned around a raised circular stand. A dressing room rests just beside it, another curtain drawn in front of it for some semblance of privacy. To the opposite side of the mirror, a rack rests with eight different dresses hanging delicately on silk hangers.

The awe filled expression that rests on your face has his heart racing in his chest, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “Pick out your favourite, and then you can try it on.”

You step closer to the rack, hands ghosting the material of the gowns.

“Are you sure these aren’t too…” you hesitate, searching for the right word as you turn to meet his gaze, “extravagant for me?”

“If anything, none of them could ever do you justice.” His honest reply has a heat rising to your cheeks, and even though you turn to continue inspecting the dresses, you can feel his gaze piercing your back. 

Saying nothing, your gaze lands on one dress in particular. Pulling it slightly out from the rack, you examine the lace material. The black colour which starts at the swooped neckline slowly transitions into a navy, until it fades into a royal blue at the very bottom of the floor length skirt. Plus, as an added bonus, there are lace sleeves which look as if they’ll reach all the way down your arms and to your wrists. You’ve never seen a dress more perfect for you, or that you’ve loved more at first glance.

“Do you like that one?” Seonghwa’s voice manages to pull you out of your own thoughts, an eagerness to his words. He knew he picked right when he grabbed that gown for you. The thought alone of you wearing it nearly sent him to his knees, and it’s in his favourite colours, too.

“I do.” You confirm with a hum, looking over the dress for another time.

There’s only one slight issue that you can see. The dress appears to be slightly form fitting, and you’re not sure how it may look on you.

“Well, go on then,” he encourages with a smile, motioning to the dressing room behind you. “Try it on.”

For a brief moment, you hesitate, your hand pausing halfway when you go to reach for the hanger. That is, until you decide that there’s really no harm in simply trying it on. If you don’t like it, there are several others you can choose from. Besides, the red one you see hanging right next to it is definitely not a bad second choice.

Gently, you remove the dress from the rack, stepping into the small dressing room in order to change. Fortunately for you, the dress seems to fit like a glove - having no issues slipping into it, and pulling the zipper up with ease. Unfortunately for you, there’s no mirrors in this little dressing room, which means you have to step outside in order to see how you look wearing the gown. 

Really, in hind sight, you saw this coming. However, faced with the prospect of stepping out in a slightly form fitting gown in front of a man you don’t know, a handsome man who has complimented you, nonetheless, you find yourself feeling a bit self conscious. Perhaps this dress wasn’t the best choice after all. Still, you really do want to see how you look.

Taking a deep breath to steel your nerves, you slide the curtain open.

“Wow,” Seonghwa’s breath gets stolen right from his lungs as he sees you step out in his dress. His desire for you, which roars unashamedly beneath the surface of his skin, becomes the most difficult it’s even been to hold back. So much so, that he lets his eyes slip for the briefest of moment, the darkness swirling within.

Thank fuck you don’t seem to notice, too busy smoothing out the front of the material as worry seems to tug at your features.

“That bad, huh?” You grimace, fingers twitching at your sides as you stand there in front of the mirror, tense as anything. “I knew I shouldn’t have-“

“You look beautiful.” His raw voice- a few tones deeper than usual and on the verge of sounding strained- rumbles out from his chest.

So badly does he just want to walk over to you, rip that dress right off, and pull you into his arms as he pleases you in any and every way he knows how. He’s glad he blocked off his mind link with the others for this occasion, otherwise they’d receive his much too vivid thoughts about taking you up against the wall right now and claiming you as his like he’s always longed to do.

Besides, they wanted who’s dress you wore tonight at dinner to be a surprise.

Seonghwa’s lips part as he swallows the dryness in his throat, attempting to at least control his breathing to no avail. You really have no idea the effect you have on him, on all of them, do you?

Lifting your head to meet his gaze through the reflection of the mirror, you’re caught off guard by how dark his eyes have become. Even his breathing has gone irregular, his chest rising and falling dramatically with each inhale that he takes.

When you blink, you expect it to all just be your imagination. Only, this time, that does not seem to be the case. Seonghwa is still looking at you with those eyes when you reopen your own - dark eyes filled with an undeniable lust for you.

Slowly, Seonghwa begins to close the distance between the two of you, stalking towards you like a predator would its prey. You cannot help but freeze, eyes following his every movement as he comes to stand behind you. The way he places his hands tenderly onto your waist, holding onto you so gently, completely contrasts the darkness continuously swirling within his irises.

Tilting his head forward, Seonghwa presses the lower half of his face against your shoulder, placing his lips onto your bare skin. His eyes flutter closed, nose slowly trailing up the side of your neck as he shifts to breathe in your scent.

A shiver runs down your spine as you feel the ghost of his breath tickle you right below your ear. Your heart jumps into your throat.

Of all the words he could use to describe you right now - sinful, breathtaking, gorgeous, his - he finally settles on the perfect one.

“Divine.” He exhales, voice low as he leans forward to rest his head against your own.

Your breath hitches as you feel his grip tighten around your waist, fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he scents you once more. The uncertainty he can sense coming off of you has him halting in his tracks, a sense of dread washing over him. He might have taken things a bit too far just now. You’re not even officially theirs yet. 

He silently curses himself. What good is control when he apparently doesn’t seem to have any around you? You make him go crazy. You’re just so irresistible.

Feeling his grip slacken ever so slightly, you move to turn around in his arms. Only, when you twist your body to face him, he’s no longer standing behind you. Instead, he seems to be rummaging around in a box off to the side, not even looking at you.

Did you just imagine what just happened?

You shake your head. That can’t be possible. You aren’t that touched starved so as to imagine intimate scenarios with the first handsome man who gives you an ounce of attention. At least, you don’t think you are.

“Oh, are you finished looking over the dress?” Seonghwa hums, head lifting to meet your gaze. Straightening himself back up with a small smile on his face, you notice  an elegant pair of shoes in his hands. “You’ve been staring at your refection for quite a while. Is everything okay?”

You blink. Did you really just zone out for the last few minutes?

“Yeah-” you clear your throat. “Yeah. Everything fine.”

“If you’re still not sure if you like the gown, why don’t you try it with these?” He offers you the shoes that he holds in his hand. “They should fit.”

“Oh,” you take the shoes from his outstretched hand, “thanks.”

It was only for a second, but his fingers grazed your own. Immediately he felt that all too familiar beast stirring within him, and after he had just managed to calm it down, too. His hands are still burning from being able to feel you beneath his touch.

Slipping the shoes onto your feet, you turn to your reflection once more. This time, a smile rests on your features as you take in your appearance. You really do look stunning.

“Are you really sure I can wear this tonight?” Your voice manages to call Seonghwa’s attention once more. “I mean, is it really okay if I borrow it?”

“Of course!” His answer is immediate, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles at you. “In fact, why don’t you keep it? It looks far better on you than the hanger, anyways.”

Again, a warmth spreads itself across your cheeks as you glance away shyly. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Darling.” He hums, a fond look shining within his eyes. “Now, why don’t you change and I’ll wrap up that dress for you?”

“Alright,” you reply softly, already heading back into the little dressing room and sliding the curtain shut behind you.

In no time at all, you’re back into your regular clothes, gown resting on the hanger once more. You take a moment to admire the material again before exiting the dressing room, the dress draped over your arm.

Handing it over to Seonghwa, he places it into a carrying bag for you, careful not to damage the material. The sound of the zipper closing pulls you out of your thoughts, many of which you’ve been attempting to sort through in the past few minutes alone.

“If you need any help with your makeup, I’m sure Hongjoong would be more than happy to assist you.” Seonghwa tells you, handing you the bag with the gown held within.

“I didn’t know he could do makeup,” you hum, impressed. “That’s pretty cool. I think I’ll be okay, though.”

With a nod of his head and a final farewell until tonight, Seonghwa watches you leave the little tailor’s shop. His eyes follow you for as long as he can, and as soon as you disappear from his sight, a sigh is falling from his lips. 

Running his fingers through his hair, he shakes his head. 

You really have no idea what you do to him. To all of them. How long they’ve waited just to catch a glimpse of you in person, planning everything out perfectly down to each and every last minute. Nothing is going to stop them from finally claiming what they’ve all long since desired. 

By the end of the night, you will be theirs.

Making it back to your room, you’re quick to step inside. Carefully, you hang the dress off to the side for later tonight, a soft smile tugging at your lips. Glancing at the time, you see a few hours have passed already, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

There’s no way time should have moved that quickly! It should have only taken you an hour, maybe an hour and a half at most to have tried on that dress with Seonghwa. You could have swore it was only half passed two when you first made your way over there. So, how can it already be five o’clock?

You huff, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. Maybe you really are losing it. First, you’re missing seeing people that are apparently right in front of your eyes. Then, you keep swearing you’re hearing things, like that weird thump in the bathroom last night. Now, you’re pretty sure you’re starting to hallucinate things.

Perhaps it’s best if you leave this place after dinner tonight instead of in the morning like you originally planned. You would leave sooner, but they’re already expecting you for the evening, and you do not want to be rude. Especially given everything they’ve done and provided for you in the past twenty-four hours alone.

Either way, you just hope this evening passes quickly, and without a hitch.

An hour later and you begin to get ready for the evening. You’re just glad you remembered to pack your makeup bag. Once you’re finished, you still have a bit of time to spare, so you spend the remainder reading some more of your book while you wait. Around five to the hour, you head to the lobby.

Emerging from the hallway, you actually see someone standing in front of the reception desk wearing a finely tailored suit. You watch as the man turns around, and you come face to face with Yeosang whose eyes light up as soon as he sees you. You return his kind smile with a polite nod of your head.

“I’m here to escort you to dinner.” He says, extending an arm out to you. “Shall we?”

You loop your arm around his, “we shall.”

As Yeosang walks with you down a separate hall and to a section of the hotel you have yet to traverse, he revels at your touch. The feeling of your arm wrapped around his is like no other, skin tingling beneath the material of his suit wherever you touch. The whole time, he cannot help but steal glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

When he first saw you emerge from the hallway, his breath got caught in his throat. You look absolutely divine, even if you’re not wearing the dress he had picked out for you in hopes that you would wear it. 

His jaw had twitched at that, slight irritation flooding his veins at the thought of you wearing Seonghwa’s gown tonight. Well, let’s see what the others make of it, and if they think the eldest might have influenced your decision as well.

After a solid minute of walking, in which you make idle smalltalk with Yeosang, you reach a set of intricately carved wooden doors. You marvel at both the size and design as they open, seemingly on their own, to reveal a finely decorated room. A room which looks much too small to house all of the guest that you were sure were going to be joining you for dinner. 

A single table with nine place settings sits in the centre of the room, lit candles lining the middle.

Around the table, the other seven stand precariously placed throughout the room. Some converse with each other while a few others sip on the drinks they all seem to be holding in their hands. Each wears a finely tailored suit, wanting to look their absolute best for you.

As soon as those doors open, and they see you walking through the threshold being escorted by Yeosang, all of their focus immediately belongs to you.

Heartbeats accelerate all around, shivers running down a few of their spines as they take in the ethereal being that is you standing before them. Each man takes his time trailing his gaze over your body, drinking in the image that is you, and searing this moment into their memories for years to come.

Finally, after all of their planning, after all of their efforts and hard work, there you stand. Ready for their taking.

A few send pointed looks in Seonghwa’s direction at seeing the choice in dress you’re wearing, but they can deal with that later. Even if you are not wearing their own chosen gown for you, there is no denying your beauty.

Mingi is the first to seemingly snap out of the spell you’ve captivated them in at your arrival. Instantly, he’s appearing at your side, offering you a glass similar to all of theirs. You take it with a small nod in thanks, noticing how Yeosang already seems to be holding one of his own. You didn’t even notice him take one.

Taking a sip of your drink, your eyes search the room once more.

“Not to be rude, or presumptuous, or anything,” you begin, a look of mild confusion on your face, “but isn’t this dinner supposed to be for everyone staying at the hotel?”

“It is,” Hongjoong confirms, a gentle expression taking over his features. “Everyone is already here.”

He seriously cannot be telling you that you are their only guest at this hotel. It’s impossible.

“I know,” Yunho chuckles. “It’s hard to believe that you’re our only guest.”

There he goes again, seemingly reading your mind.

“Please,” Hongjoong motions to the table before you, “join us.”

A smile that you’re sure is meant to assure you appears on his face, only serving to unnerve you at the way his eyes lock onto your figure, watching your ever move.

Stepping towards the table, you see Seonghwa already pulling a chair out for you to sit in. Of course it would have to be the one right in the centre of the set of three. 

Four chairs rest across from you, while two more sit at each head.

Slowly, you take your seat, allowing Seonghwa to tuck you in while thanking him politely. 

As if they’ve done this countless times before, the eight men slide up to the table beside their own respective seats, moving fluidly as one to sit down. Hongjoong sits to your left while Seonghwa takes the seat to your right. Mingi sits at one head of the table, while San takes the other end. Across from you rests Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho, and Wooyoung in that order exactly, starting from your left.

You’re starting to think you stumbled upon a cult or something by accident.

Wooyoung has to cover up a snort of laughter just as he goes to take a sip of his drink, choking on the liquid in the next second. Jongho pats his back comfortingly.

“Are you alright?” Your brow furrows in concern as you look at the male across from you.

“Never better.” He clears his throat, offering you a cheeky grin in response.

In the next moment, Yunho is drawing your attention onto him as he asks you a question, a casual conversation soon starting between the nine of you. The more time you spend surrounded by these eight men, the more you start to relax. You don’t necessarily feel uncomfortable around them, it’s just the hotel that’s giving you such an ominous feeling.

Perhaps that’s where you go wrong.

It happens so suddenly, that you almost miss it. One second the place settings in front of you are empty, and the next, a steaming plate of food appears before your very eyes.

You startle in your seat, pressing yourself as far into the back of it as you can. With wide eyes, you stare down at your meal.

“Is something the matter?” Hongjoong asks, and you look up to find eight pairs of eyes all staring at you.

“Uh-” your voice catches in your throat, not quite sure how to describe the phenomenon that has just occurred in front of you.

“San worked very hard all evening on the meals,” Hongjoong adds, a glimmer in his eyes.

“I hope you enjoy!” Said man calls from just off to the side.

“Right,” you reply, somewhat warily. How can they all be acting like nothing abnormal just happened? “Thanks.”

Picking up your utensils, you clutch the steak knife tightly in your hand. Intently, you stare down at your food, half expecting your asparagus to come alive in the next second and start swishing from side to side like dragon tails.

“Go ahead,” Jongho catches your gaze from across the table, a piece of steak already speared on his fork and poised in the air halfway to his mouth. “Dig in.”

Immediately, you comply, worried you might appear rude for hesitating for so long before taking a bite of your meal. Softly, you chew the bite of your steak, the flavour melting on your tongue.

“Well?” San looks to you, almost expectantly.

“It’s delicious,” you reply, your whole demeanour calming as you see that look of joy take over his features. “Like always.”

“Our Sannie really knows how to cook,” Mingi says, a teasing lilt to his voice despite his praise.

“He’s the only one who won’t burn down the kitchen if left alone in one.” Yeosang replies, and you notice the way Mingi looks almost scandalized at his words.

“I would never!” He gasps dramatically.

The laugh that they all hear fall from your lips is like music to their ears.

The more they continue to bicker, the more you seem to ease back into your own comfort around them. You even go so far as to chime in here and there once again in the conversation, much to each of their pleasure, and relief in some cases. Just as you’re beginning to converse with Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang about your favourite books, Wooyoung spares a glance around the table, locking gazes with the man sitting across from him.

So, are we going to discuss how our eldest here influenced our beloved to wear his dress? Wooyoung’s eyes narrow ever so subtly at the man before him.

Do you really think that little of me, brother? Seonghwa hums in response, quirking his brow slightly in challenge.

He’s not the only one suspicious of what your intentions were. San chimes in, resting his elbows on the table in front of him and clasping his hands beneath his chin, seeing as he’s finished his meal for the time being.

I had no influence over her decision what-so-ever. She made that choice all on her own. Seonghwa replies. It’s not my fault you all seem to lack taste.

Mingi chokes on his drink, blood rushing to the tips of his ears as annoyance floods his veins. At least you spare him a concerned glance, your inquiry into whether he’s okay or not immediately soothing his anger.

Watch it, Hwa. Hongjoong warns, sparing a glance at the male from the corner of his eyes, only to get enraptured by your excited expression in the next moment.

What happened in there, anyways? Yeosang adds without so much as breaking eye contact with you.

Wouldn’t you like to know? Seonghwa leans back slightly in his seat, a certain smugness surrounding him.

Yes. Jongho’s voice echoes through their heads. I think we’d all like to know that.

What did you do? Yunho asks, somewhat accusatory. He’s still suspicious that the eldest had something to do with which dress you picked for this evening, just as the rest of them are.

Fucking hell. Seonghwa lets out a small puff of air, low enough that you do not take notice. In a flash, Seonghwa is sharing his memories with the rest of them. Well, only certain aspects of them. There. Happy now?

No. Mingi grumbles. Now, I just feel worse.

Somehow knowing you were telling the truth makes my blood boil. Yeosang adds bitterly.

Can we not focus on how wonderful she looks instead? Jongho questions, a glint of awe shining in his eyes as he looks across the table at you while resting his head in the palm of his hand.

Has anyone thought to compliment her yet tonight? Hongjoong’s brow furrows only slightly as he doesn’t recall any of them showering you with any of the praise you deserve.

“By the way, I must say,” Wooyoung speaks, drawing your full, undivided attention towards him, “you look absolutely riveting this evening. That dress looks wondrous on you.”

“Oh, uh,” instantly, heat flares to your cheeks and your eyes go wide. A mental image of your little escapade, or rather, what you think you had simply imagined in that shop with Seonghwa flits through your mind. You blink, unaware of how the males around you all stiffen, the air in the room shifting in intensity. “Thank you.”

Park Seonghwa. The way Hongjoong drawls his name out has the elder male holding his breath in anticipation. Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us?

Not particularly. Either Seonghwa is incredibly brave to continue hiding this from his brothers, or incredibly stupid. As soon as he feels seven mental spears probing at his mind, he knows it’s the latter.

A thwack resounds around the room as Yunho bangs his knee from beneath the table, the sound enough to make you jump.

“I thought we agreed not to touch her, to indulge in her until she was finally ours.” Hongjoong’s voice is low, ominous, as he stares right past you to the male directly to your right.

“You can’t blame me!” Seonghwa replies. “I know any of you would have done the same if given the chance. Don’t act so innocent here.”

Your eyes widen, heart hammering in your chest at his words. You have no idea what’s going on now, and you don’t think you want to stick around to find out.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mingi warns, making eye contact with you just as the thought of fleeing crosses your mind.

“Okay, just what the hell is going on here?” Your voice draws all of their attention to you once more, and you end up shrinking back in your seat when you suddenly find yourself beneath the gazes of all eight men’s stares.

“There’s no point in keeping it from you any longer. You were bound to find out anyways, this is just not how we planned on telling you.” Hongjoong sighs, leaning back in his chair as he closes his eyes for a brief moment. “I’m sure you’ve noticed something’s amiss by now.”

“Tell me what?” Fear spikes within you. “That you guys are all part of some weird cult?”

Wooyoung, Yunho, San, and Mingi all burst out laughing at your words.

“You could say that,” Yeosang sighs. “It certainly feels like it sometimes.”

Your heartbeat rings in your ears.

“Stop that, you’re scaring her.” Jongho frowns.

Before you can say another word, someone is beating you to it.

“No, we’re not cultists.” Seonghwa sighs. “Though, I don’t think you’re going to feel much better learning what our true nature is.”

“Your ‘true nature’?” The furrow in your brow deepens, panic clear now on your features. “Don’t tell me you all think you’re vampires, or some shit like that.”

“Not quite,” San chuckles from the end of the table.

“More like demonic entities, if you will.” Again, that unnerving smile is back on Hongjoong’s features.

Your heart jumps into your throat. “You’re demons?”

“More or less,” Yunho shrugs casually, as if this is a conversation they have every day.

“No.” You state, placing a hand onto of the table to brace yourself with. “No. This isn’t possible.”

“Anything is possible, my dear,” Seonghwa grins. Truly, a chilling sight which sends a shiver right down your spine.

“This is insane.” You hiss, shaking your head as you stare at your hand placed on the table. Your fingers brush against something familiar.

“The first step towards sanity is embracing the insane.” Hongjoong replies, and you turn to see him stand from his chair.

“Do you really think that everything that’s happened to you within the past thirty-six hours has been natural?” Hongjoong cocks his head at you as he tilts your chair slightly to face him. “We have powers that you cannot even begin to comprehend, Love.”

You swallow the dryness in your throat. “I don’t believe you.”

“It wasn’t some random force that compelled you to take a road trip on your one weekend off,” Hongjoong grins, his eyes flashing black. “It was us.”

A gasp escapes you as his dark eyes lock onto yours. So you haven’t been imagining things. Their eyes really do shift black.

With your heartbeat ringing through your ears, you lean as far back in your seat as you can to get away from him. Your one hand still rests firmly on the table beside you, and you can feel the other’s eyes on you, watching your every move. Waiting with bated breath. For what, you’re not quite sure, but if they have strong powers, and what you’ve been experiencing- been assuming- is all true, then they can also read your mind. Your thoughts are no longer safely your own.

“What is it that you want from me, then?” You meet Hongjoong’s gaze, and you watch as it softens.

“I thought we all made that obvious by now,” he shares a quick glance with the males all sitting around the table, grins pulling onto all of their faces. “We just want you.”

“Me?” To say you’re caught off guard would be an understatement. “You mean you want my soul?”

“Sure, your soul would be nice.” Mingi nods.

“To have and to hold,” Jongho agrees with a nod of his own.

“To cherish and protect,” Wooyoung adds.

“To love and to care for.” San hums, taking another sip from his drink.

“Only if you give it to us willingly,” Seonghwa’s voice is surprisingly soft; tender.

“But never for us to take.” Yeosang shakes his head slightly, as if to emphasize his words.

“Or to keep.” Yunho assures you.

You spare a glance around you as best as you can, confusion clear in your eyes. “I don’t follow.”

“What we’re saying is,” Hongjoong takes a moment to meet your gaze, a tender look shining behind his irises as a smile tugs at the corner of his lips, “we want you. All of you. Mind, body, and soul.”

You can do nothing but stare at him, words failing you as your lips part. You swear your heart is about to burst with how intensely it thunders away in your chest.

“Of course, we would love it if you agreed to become ours willingly,” Hongjoong adds, and you can hear the underlying threat beneath his words. At the sense of fear that spikes within you, he’s quick to assure you. “I promise you that we would never hurt you.”

“We only want to love you,” Seonghwa adds softly.

“To cherish you,” Mingi breathes.

“To protect you,” San voices gently.

“To worship you,” Wooyoung says, voice barely above a whisper.

“To live out the rest of our lives together,” Yeosang’s breath catches slightly in his throat.

“To always be there for you,” Jongho nods his head assuringly in your direction.

“You are everything to us,” Yunho whispers, voice raw with the honesty of his words.

“So please,” Hongjoong draws your attention back to him, his forehead coming to rest against your own as he stares deeply into your eyes, “won’t you let us?”

A small silence settles over the nine of you as you allow their words to sink in. You can barely form any cohesive thoughts, sitting as still as you possibly can as you attempt to wrap you head around this turn of events. Never did you expect for this to happen.

Your lips part, and they all find themselves holding their breaths, greatly anticipating your answer.

“No.”

Hongjoong blinks. This time, it’s his turn to be stunned by your response, pulling away slightly in his shock. “No?”

“No.” You repeat, much firmer this time.

Before any of them can say anything, or even react for that matter, you’re stabbing Hongjoong with your steak knife and pushing him off of you. Standing from your seat with enough force to knock your chair off its balance, you send it toppling to the floor. Not even a moment later, you’re sprinting for the door and out of the dining room, fleeing down the hallway in which you first arrived from.

Your footsteps echo down the corridor as the eight men can only sit there, stunned for the moment at this turn of events. Well, that didn’t go at all how they had planned.

In the blink of an eye, San, Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yeosang have disappeared, chasing after you without a second thought.

“She stabbed me.” Hongjoong voices incredulously, disbelief clear on his face. “She stabbed me.”

“Yes, and?” Seonghwa quirks a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watches Hongjoong pull the knife out of his shoulder, blood dripping onto the floor as he stares intently at the weapon in question. “How does that make you feel?”

“Honestly?” Hongjoong looks over at the older male, nodding his head slightly in awe. “Impressed and horny.”

“Come on,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes at his leader. “Let’s go get our girl.”

Nothing but the sound of the knife clattering to the ground echoes throughout the room as the remaining four of them teleport to where you managed to run off to. You didn’t get very far, only able to reach the lobby before the first half of their group found you. They had appeared in an instant, surrounding you on all sides, and preventing you from escaping. Your pleas to let you go fall on deaf ears.

As soon as you see the other four appear out of thin air, your panic rises. Any and all chance of escape that you had had just now becomes slim to none.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Hongjoong pouts. “And after all that we’ve done for you, too.”

“Just let me leave, and we can pretend that none of this ever happened.” Comes your reply, noting the way a small blotch of red stains the front of his shirt where the knife had pierced him.

“I don’t think you fully comprehend your situation right now,” Hongjoong shakes his head, tutting all the while. “I already told you. You’re ours, and we’re not going to let you go so easily.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” you explain, voice coming out much firmer than you thought it would. “I’m going to grab my bag from my room, and then I’m checking out of this godforsaken hotel. I’m going to get into my car, drive home, and none of you will ever see me again.”

“Sure, you can check out of here any time you’d like. This isn’t even a real place,” Hongjoong chuckles as he watches your expression fall, horror at the realization of what his words mean painting your features. “We tried to be reasonable, to give you a choice. Now, you’ll just have to accept the terms you’ve signed yourself up for. You’re ours, and you’re in our domain now, Love. You can never leave.”

#yandere ateez #ateez scenarios #yandere kpop #yandere hongjoong #yandere wooyoung #yandere mingi #yandere san #yandere yeosang #yandere jongho #yandere yunho #yandere seonghwa #yandere au #kpop au #seonghwa scenarios #mingi scenarios #hongjoong scenarios #san scenarios #jongho scenarios #yunho scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #yeosang scenarios #demon au #kpop scenarios

[wholoveseggs]

Crimson Frost {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

You are to be wed to Niklaus of the Mikaelson clan, but when tragedy strikes and blood is shed in the snowy night, the true strength of family bonds and the power of love are put to the ultimate test.

♡♡ I'm back with another series, one I've wanted to write for a long time. This series explores the lives of the Mikaelsons as ordinary individuals in the Viking era, told from the reader's perspective but also Niklaus's. ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: Viking AU where the Mikaelsons are completely human (no magic, werewolves, vampires... etc) lots of death and violence, sprinkle of norse mythology... no smut in this part, {Spoiler: it will be eventually reader x Elijah}

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four}

"Gerda! Come help me with these flowers," you yelled from the back garden. You were gathering the best wildflowers you could find to make a wreath to wear for the feast that evening. It was still winter, but it had been mild for almost a whole moon, bringing the wildflowers early.

"Coming systir!" she replied. Gerda came out into the garden a few moments later, carrying a basket full of wildflowers and a smile on her face. "These will look so lovely in your hair tonight," she said holding up a bunch of lavender. "I'm sure Niklaus will be so happy to see you."

You blushed slightly at her words. Niklaus.

Your mother had told you that the feast tonight was to announce your marriage to the young Mikaelson. Your family was thrilled, having you marry one of the sons of the Karl increased your family's standing among the clan. However, you were still nervous. You had grown up with Niklaus, he was kind and had a sweet smile, but he was also quite wild and battle hungry. He had just returned from his first raiding voyage to the coast of the English lands, and the stories of his bravery were spreading.

“I'm sure he will, but he is not my betrothed yet," you said as you put some more flowers in your basket.

"That does not mean that he will not be soon, and you will have to kiss him eventually," Gerda replied.

"Gerda!" You threw a bunch of flowers at her. "Do not be so improper."

"Sorry systir," Gerda said laughing. "It's just exciting, you are getting married to a Mikaelson!"

"Let us hope that the gods smile on our union," you said, picking up your basket of flowers.

Gerda had only seen eleven summers yet she was eager to grow up, while you were less than eager. Your betrothal had been a long time coming and it was a good match for your family, but you didn't have the same excitement as your sister. You felt unprepared to be a wife.

You saw Niklaus coming over with his little brother Henrik and a small smile crossed your face.

You looked up at Niklaus. "Hello, Niklaus."

"My dear," Niklaus greeted, bowing his head. "You look beautiful as ever."

"Thank you," you replied.

Henrik stood beside his brother. "Nik, you promised we could spar today!"

"Henrik, patience," Niklaus said, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "How about you go with Gerda, she can watch while you practice."

"Come on Gerda, let's go," Henrik said excitedly, taking her hand and pulling her over to the field.

"Your brother seems enthusiastic," you remarked.

"It's what he was born to do," Niklaus said, watching his brother and your sister run off.

"They would make a good match, your Gerda and my Henrik," he suggested.

"Oh yes, Gerda is very fond of Henrik," you agreed. "But they are both so young, it's a bit too early to make a decision such as that."

"Of course, I would not wish to rush them," Niklaus said. "Besides, you are the one I'm here for today."

You looked away, a slight blush appearing on your cheeks. He was a true charmer and had seen many battles even at his young age, the ladies in the village loved him and were always fighting over his attention. But the truth was you didn't feel anything when you looked at him. There was no spark or tingle of love the way it was described in the fables, just a friendship that you wished would turn into something more.

But it was an honor for your family, to be marrying into such a noble household. And it wasn't like he was ugly, or cruel. He was a good man and would no doubt make a fine husband.

"I think it will be an early spring, with all of these flowers in bloom," Niklaus said, reaching down and picking a blue wildflower and handing it to you.

"I do too," you replied, smiling and putting the flower in your hair.

"Nik, I thought you were sparring with me!" Henrik yelled, trying to gain the attention of his older brother

"Very well!" He responded, giving you a wink before running after his little brother, he picked up Gerda and gave her a spin, making her laugh.

You laughed at the sight and watched the three of them. Niklaus, Henrik, and Gerda. Playing around and having fun, but soon the time would come for them to grow up, and you feared what that would bring.

The sound of laughter and music filled the longhouse, you were sitting on a bench between your mother and father, enjoying the feast.

Henrik and Gerda were dancing and playing near the fire, laughing and smiling. They had been inseparable all day, both excited about the wedding to come.

Your eyes found Niklaus, sitting on the other side of the longhouse, chatting with his older brothers, Finn and Elijah.

Your engagement was to be announced tonight, in front of the whole clan, but you had already heard the news. You were going to be Niklaus' wife, and the next lady of the Mikaelson clan.

But you would be lying if you said that the thought didn't fill you with dread. You didn't feel ready to be a wife.

You saw beautiful Rebekah, Niklaus's sister, dancing with her friends. Her long blonde hair in a thick braid with ribbons and flowers. She was laughing and having a good time, while you sat alone and tried to hide how nervous you were.

She came over and took your hand. "Come dance,”

You smiled and joined her, spinning and twirling around.

"I've heard the news, congratulations," she said. "My brother is a very lucky man."

"Thank you," you replied.

Rebekah pulled you in close. "Soon you will be with child and I'll have a little niece or nephew to dote on," she said, her hand moving down to touch your belly.

You laughed, a blush spreading across your cheeks. "Yes, that is my hope."

"Well, the sooner the better," Rebekah replied. "Nik is getting antsy."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"There has been word that the Blackthorne clan has been moving in this direction," she said. "Nik's been preparing for a battle, he says he will not let them pass our borders."

"I see," you replied. The Blackthorne clan were known to be ruthless and merciless. Their leader, a man named Einar, was notorious for his brutal raids and pillaging. It had been said that he once slaughtered an entire village just because they refused to give him one of their daughters.

"My father doesn't think they will make a move, but Niklaus is worried," Rebekah said. She gave you a searching look, "He lusts for war and glory."

You frowned, looking at her. "What if he's right? What if they attack? What will happen to us?"

"Don't worry sweet girl, you are apart of my family now, and the Mikaelsons will protect you," Rebekah promised.

As the night went on you feasted and danced with the people of the village. There was food and drink for everyone, and the mood was jovial.

You saw your father sitting next to Mikael, they were deep in conversation and your father was nodding along with whatever the elder Mikaelson was saying.

Mikael suddenly stood, raising his mug and the room fell silent.

"Tonight, we celebrate the engagement of my son Niklaus to the daughter of Erik," Mikael announced, looking over at the two of you.

"To a bright future, may they have many sons to lead us into battle and may their union bring great fortune to both families."

The clan erupted into cheers, banging on the table and lifting their mugs.

"A toast, to Niklaus and his bride!" Mikael called.

Everyone raised their mugs, cheering for the couple. Niklaus approached you and wrapped his arms around you. “It seems the gods have finally smiled upon us," he whispered.

You nodded and smiled at him, trying not to let him see the uncertainty in your eyes. He kissed your cheek and danced with you, the feast continuing on.

As the night wore on, you sat by yourself, watching the dancing and laughter. Rebekah and her friends were talking, Henrik and Gerda were still spinning around, and Niklaus was deep in conversation with Elijah.

Your parents had left, they were a bit older and didn't stay up late like the others. You wanted to leave as well, but Gerda was having so much fun, you didn't want to cut her night short.

Kol came over, sitting down beside you. "You should be out there having fun, not sulking here all alone."

"I'm not sulking," you replied.

"Yes you are," Kol said, grabbing a piece of bread from the table and stuffing it in his mouth. The two of you had grown up together, and he always knew when something was wrong.

"Well, the whole marriage thing has been weighing heavily on my mind," you confessed.

"Oh, come on, Nik's a fine warrior," Kol remarked. "My brother has always been taken with you, he will make a good husband... I think," he teased.

You laughed a bit, pushing him gently. "I know, I know, but I just wish to wait a bit longer. It seems like this has all happened so quickly."

Kol put his arm around you. "You will come to love him, and even if you don't, I am sure the bedding will be enjoyable."

"Kol, stop it!" You giggled, shoving him away.

He grinned and took another piece of bread, "You go home and rest, I'll watch Gerda."

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"Positive," he said. "You are both family now, I will protect her as if she were my own blood."

"Thank you, Kol," you replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I will see you tomorrow."

You made your way out of the longhouse and back towards your home, the cold night air filling your lungs, you breathed out a plume of heat into the chilly air, perhaps winter was not quite done yet. As you walked you thought about Niklaus, he had been so kind and thoughtful lately, he was a good man, you had no reason not to marry him.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of rustling in the bushes, you paused and listened. It was probably just a fox or some other woodland creature, but something didn't feel right.

Suddenly, you were knocked to the ground, a man pinning you down.

"Don't scream," he hissed.

You struggled beneath him, trying to push him off. He smelled of mead and sweat, his face was covered in dirt, his teeth rotted and bloody.

He pressed a blade to your throat, you stopped moving and let out a gasp.

"Do not fight, and I won't hurt you," the man growled.

He had black hair and was wearing a thick fur cloak, his body pressed against yours as he held you down. He pulled at your dress, ripping the fabric and exposing your skin.

"No!" You cried, struggling against him.

He moved his hand up and grabbed your face, his fingers digging into your jaw.

"You are a pretty one, will fetch a good price," he said, running his hand down your body and touching you roughly.

You heard the sound of a horn blowing, signaling a raid. Panic coursed through you.

The Blackthornes had come.

The man was distracted momentarily by the sound and you took the opportunity to grab a rock and smash it against his head. He grunted and fell back, letting you go. You scrambled away and stood up, running to your home.

You heard the shouts of the villagers as they prepared for battle, the sounds of swords clashing and people dying.

As you ran, you saw a group of warriors, led by Einar Blackthorne, storming through the village, killing and setting everything on fire. By the time you got to your house, it was in flames.

Your parents were nowhere to be seen and your heart dropped. You picked up the wood axe sitting on a stump and broke down the door, the heat and smoke burning your lungs.

"Faðir!" You shouted, coughing and looking around. "Móðir!"

"Y/N," a voice called. You saw your mother, kneeling on the floor and holding her hands over her chest.

"Móðir!" You cried, rushing over to her. "What happened, are you alright?"

"Dóttir," she said, reaching out to you, her breathing was labored and her hands were covered in blood.

Your father lay next to her, a wound in his stomach and a pool of blood surrounding him.

"Faðir," you gasped, looking at his lifeless body.

"Gerda," your mother croaked, clutching at your dress. "Go get Gerda,"

"I will," you assured her. "But first I must get you out of here."

You tried to help her stand, but her breathing became ragged and her eyes fluttered closed.

"Móðir?" You said, shaking her.

She didn't respond and her head slumped forward, her body limp in your arms.

"Móðir!" You screamed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The smoke grew thicker, and the fire was getting closer. The wood beams above cracking and falling.

You laid her down gently, the smoke stinging your eyes, the heat of the flames singeing your hair and burning your skin.

You stumbled through the flames, making your way out of the house, you coughed and sputtered, trying to breathe in the clean air. Your village was engulfed in chaos and flames, you could see the invaders killing and stealing, their cries echoing through the night.

"Gerda," you whispered, trying to catch your breath.

A figure appeared in the darkness, a man wielding a sword, his body covered in blood and his face masked by the smoke. He was wearing the Blackthorne colors of gray and red. You raised your axe and struck him down, the blade slicing through his neck. Rage and adrenaline coursed through you, the fury of Tyr fueling you as you continued on, searching for Gerda.

Your family, your clan, your home had been destroyed. Everything you loved was burning, but you were determined to find your baby sister.

Your ran back to the longhouse, it was in flames, the heat radiating off of the building.

"Gerda!" You screamed out for her, trying to find her in the chaos.

You could hear the sound of fighting and screams, the smell of burning wood and blood filled the air.

Suddenly, a man emerged from the smoke, the same one who tried to rape you earlier, you raised your axe again, ready to strike.

But the man grabbed the blade, stopping the swing mid-air and pulling it from your grasp. He smirked and grabbed you by the hair, throwing you to the ground. You looked up at the longhouse, the place where you had spent so many nights with the Mikaelson family, the place where Gerda and Henrik were.

"You will make a good prize," he growled, running his hands over your body.

"No!" You screamed, thrashing around and he laughed and pinned you down, his hands tearing at your dress.

You could hear the cries of the villagers as they fought for their lives, the screams of the children and the clash of steel.

A hand grabbed the back of your attacker's neck and he was ripped away from you, you gasped, scrambling back. You watched the men fight viciously, exchanging blows.

Your savior was wearing the Mikaelson colors of green and blue, and you realized it was Niklaus.

You stood and grabbed your axe, raising it and attacking other raiders as they tried to approach, giving Niklaus the advantage.

"Y/n! systir!" You heard the sound of your name being called and you looked up, seeing Gerda and Henrik being hauled off by the raiders.

"Gerda!" You shouted, running after them.

You couldn't reach them, another raider jumped in front of you, swinging his sword. You ducked and avoided his blow, swinging your axe and catching him in the side.

He fell to the ground and you kept running, chasing after the raiders and your sister. You ran as fast as you could, dodging the raiders who were trying to stop you. But it was no use, they caught you and dragged you back.

Snow was starting to fall, and you could feel the cold biting at your skin. Two raiders had you by the arms, dragging you along the cold ground, you knew it wouldn't be long before you saw Valhalla. They threw you onto the back of a horse, the cold metal of a knife pressed to your throat.

"Don't struggle or we'll throw you into the fire," the man behind you growled.

You kicked him hard, and he struck you across the face, but you didn't care. Your family was dead, your home was gone, and Gerda was being taken away.

Suddenly, the men on the horse yelled, and the knife was pulled from your throat. You looked up to see a figure in armor, holding a Mikaelson shield in one hand and a sword in the other.

He struck down the Raiders, their bodies falling to the ground. You were disoriented from the blow, unable to see who had come to your rescue.

The figure grabbed the reins of the horse, and the beast whinnied, bucking wildly. He pulled you against him, the metal of his armor cold against your skin.

"Shhhh," he whispered, trying to calm the horse.

You recognized the voice, it was Elijah, Niklaus’ elder brother.

"We have to get out of here, can you ride?" He asked.

You nodded and he handed you the reins. You could see the bodies of the raiders scattered around, and the sounds of the battle were beginning to fade. Snow and ash fell from the sky, and the scent of death hung in the air.

"Come on," Elijah said, pulling himself up behind you.

He wrapped his arm around you, taking the reins back. "I will take you somewhere safe," he promised.

"What about your family? They took Gerda and Henrik," you asked, tears stinging your eyes.

The horse took off, galloping through the woods and away from the destruction. You looked back, seeing the flames and smoke rising into the night sky, and you wondered if Gerda was still alive.

"I saw Niklaus going after them, we have to hope he can save them," Elijah replied.

You held onto the horse tightly, the wind and sleet whipping against your face. The snow falling heavier now, the trees bare and the branches covered in a layer of ice.

Elijah's voice cut through the cold, "I know a place we can shelter from this storm,"

The wind howled and the snow fell heavily, obscuring your vision. You could barely see a thing, but you trusted Elijah.

You didn't know how long you'd been riding, but eventually, Elijah stopped the horse and helped you down.

He brushed away some snow to reveal a small cabin built into a overhang of rock. He tied the horse to a post under the eaves of the structure and opened the door, motioning for you to enter.

"It's not much, but it will keep us warm," he said.

The cabin was made of logs and stones, and there was a fireplace in the center. You shivered, your body numb from the cold.

Elijah started a fire with some wood that was already stacked inside the cabin, and soon the room was filled with warmth and light.

You sat on a bench, the flames from the fireplace flickering, casting shadows on the walls. Elijah sat beside you, and you could see the exhaustion and sorrow in his eyes.

"What of the rest of your family? Your parents? Rebekah? Kol? Finn?" You asked.

Elijah let out a sigh, "my parents and Finn were killed, I lost Kol and Rebekah, I don't know where they are or if they're even alive,"

He turned to look at you, his dark eyes full of sadness. "What about your parents?"

You looked away, a lump forming in your throat. "Dead as well."

You tried to stop the tears, to be strong, but the thought of your mother and father, and all those people, gone, was too much to bear. You buried your face in your hands and sobbed, the grief washing over you like a tidal wave.

Elijah placed his cloak around you and got up to stoke the fire. He added more wood, and the flames crackled and popped.

He sat back down and you moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you. You were both tired and hurt, and you knew that this might be the last night you ever spent alive. You were both silent for a moment, the weight of the night's events heavy on your minds.

"I am sorry about your family," Elijah whispered.

"As I am sorry about yours," you replied, looking up at him.

This was the first time you ever really spoke to him, as children you were always running around with Kol and Rebekah. Elijah was the stern older brother, the one who was always scolding you for being reckless. But now, he seemed so different.

He placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that were rolling down your cheeks.

"We will find them, and send every single one of those Blackthornes straight to Hel,"

Niklaus was smiling as he feasted and celebrated his engagement. The scent of meat and ale mingled with the smell of pine and fire, the flickering candles casting a warm glow on the room.

He sat with his brother, Elijah, watching as the members of the clan drank and danced. The atmosphere was festive, and everyone seemed to be having a good time, Niklaus loved a good party, especially one that was about him.

"Isn't she a beauty, brother?" He remarked, watching you from across the table.

"She will be a fine wife for you," Elijah replied, sipping his mead.

"Do you think she will let me bed her before the wedding? I do wish to know what pleasures await me," he grinned.

"Niklaus," Elijah sighed, "You cannot speak of your betrothed in such a manner, have some respect."

"Relax brother, it is just the two of us," he shrugged.

"Still, a woman's virtue is not a subject to be jested about,"

"Oh come on, 'Lijah, I'm only joking. Even the gods would agree that the wedding cannot come soon enough." He said, taking a sip of his mead.

The men were sitting around the table, feasting and drinking. Niklaus watched his little brother Henrik playing with Gerda, they were dancing and spinning in circles.

"I'm surprised Kol is not joining in on the festivities," Niklaus said, nodding to where Kol was sitting alone at the end of the table.

"He's been moody lately," Elijah remarked. "His courting of the Blackthorne girl did not go well, he returned with an arrow in his thigh."

"He was lucky to come back at all," Niklaus muttered. "Father won't listen to reason when it comes to the Blackthornes."

"What would you have him do Niklaus? Wage a war we cannot win?" Elijah replied, his eyes flickering over to where you were talking to some of the women.

"This is how I see it. We either bring the fight to the Blackthornes or wait for them to bring the fight to us," Niklaus stated.

"You two talk of politics like wise old men," Finn piped up. "But you're nothing more than fools, unprepared for battle. The Blackthornes are a mighty clan, and if we were to attack, we would lose everything we've built here."

"When have you seen battle Finn? When you put your trousers on in the morning? Or when you wipe your ass?" Niklaus laughed, grinning at Finn maliciously.

Finn rolled his eyes and ignored the insult, "This is a peaceful village. The only bloodshed we've seen is at the hands of wolves and bears. Father is right to avoid conflict."

"I stopped listening after you said 'father is right', that means nothing to me," Niklaus remarked, downing his drink.

"Well, then I shall take my leave and continue this conversation with someone who actually has the capacity to understand it," Finn huffed, getting up from his seat.

Elijah shook his head, "He does have a point Niklaus. War is not something we can take lightly, the consequences could be dire."

Niklaus watched as Finn went over to you and offered his hand, no doubt asking you for a dance. He watched as you politely rejected Finn. He smiled to himself, you really were the perfect wife.

"We can't avoid the Blackthornes forever. Eventually, we will have to make a move," Niklaus stated.

"Not today, Niklaus, not tonight. Tonight is a night of celebration," Elijah said. "You cannot lust after war on the night of your engagement."

"Fine," Niklaus sighed. "We will discuss this tomorrow,"

"Very well," Elijah agreed.

"I'll hold you to that," Niklaus said, downing the rest of his mead, he watched as you danced with Rebekah, he loved the way you smiled and laughed.

He felt a sense of peace and happiness, knowing that soon, you would be his wife. He looked to his father, who raised his mug and toasted to the union, a gesture that surprised Niklaus, but also put him at ease.

The music began to play, and the men started dancing with their wives. He came over to you, and told you how the gods were smiling down at your union. You looked so beautiful, and he could barely take his eyes off of you.

He danced with you for a while, before Elijah approached and asked for a private word. The brothers found a quiet corner, away from the crowds and music.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I've gotten word from a scout that the Blackthornes are near. Their numbers are great, and they are preparing to attack," Elijah informed him.

"When will they be here?" Niklaus asked, his mind already racing with possible scenarios and outcomes.

"On the morrow, if the scouts are correct," Elijah replied, his voice tense.

"Then we must prepare. I'll rally the men, and we'll set a trap. We'll lead the Blackthornes into the woods, and ambush them," Niklaus said, his eyes flashing with excitement.

"Father has it well in hand, enjoy the celebrations Niklaus," Elijah said. "And be careful not to drink too much, I will need your help in the morning."

Niklaus nodded, but couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He glanced over to where you were sitting, chatting and laughing with Kol. You were so happy and carefree, and he wanted to protect that, even if it meant risking his life.

Niklaus spent the rest of the evening drinking and dancing, trying to push aside his worries. You left not long after, and he went to follow, but Kol stopped him, "Let her be Niklaus. She's tired, and I'm sure she has a lot on her mind."

He begrudgingly agreed and stayed, dancing with Henrik on his shoulders as Gerda did on Kol's. It was late, and he could feel the effects of the mead and ale taking hold.

"Off to bed now little Henrik. I'll walk you home sweet Gerda," Kol said softly, setting her down and kissing her cheek.

Suddenly the sound of a horn rang through the night air, and they froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

"To arms!" Mikael shouted, his voice echoing through the longhouse.

The room erupted into chaos, the men rushing to grab their weapons and armor. Niklaus laughed, rushing to grab his sword, "So much for a peaceful night!"

He grabbed his shield and rushed outside, joining the fray of battle.

The smell of blood and sweat filled his nostrils as he swung his sword, cutting down raider after raider. Glory and honor filled his heart as he fought, but the thought of you was never far from his mind.

He had promised you that he would keep you safe, and he intended to keep that promise. Your father was old and you had no brothers to defend you, tonight it was his duty. He headed towards your home, but stopped at the sound of his sister screaming, he turned to see Finn swinging wildly at Einar Blackthorne.

His eldest brother was standing in front of Rebekah, she was holding a sword with shaking hands.

"Finn, don't!" Rebekah pleaded, watching him try to fight Einar, but it was an uneven match, Einar struck Finn across the torso with his axe and he crumpled to the ground.

Rebekah fell to her knees at his side, "No! Finn, no!" She cried, clutching to his body.

Einar grabbed Rebekah by the hair and dragged her away.

Niklaus roared and chased after them, but was cut off by a group of raiders, and he slashed and hacked his way through them, searching for where his sister had been taken in the chaos.

Kol was fighting nearby, the young warrior was up against a beast of a man, he stabbed Kol in the arm and he collapsed to the ground.

He heard the sounds of Kol's screams, the boy was fighting for his life. The sight of Kol, bloody and beaten, snapped something inside Niklaus.

He ran towards the man who had stabbed his brother, his eyes full of rage and fury. The man was large and strong, but Niklaus was faster, he plunged his sword into the man's chest and twisted, watching as the life drained from his eyes.

Niklaus could almost hear the drum beats of war, as though the gates of Valhalla had opened, and his ancestors were cheering him on.

The scent of blood and death was thick in the air, and the sounds of clashing metal and screams filled the night. The ground was covered in the bodies of the dead and wounded, and the snow was stained crimson.

He pulled Kol to his feet, and saw Elijah fighting off a group of raiders, his movements a blur as he sliced and cut.

"I can't find Rebekah, they've taken her!" Niklaus cried out.

"We will find her, brother. I promise," Elijah replied, his gaze fierce and determined.

Niklaus could see the fires from the longhouse, the smoke rising into the sky. His family's home was burning, and the village was being pillaged and raided.

Elijah pulled his younger brothers into an embrace, his hands on their shoulders, "our father and mother have been stuck down, I could not save them,"

"Finn?" Kol asked, his eyes darting around, looking for the eldest brother.

"Gone," Niklaus replied.

The three brothers looked at each other, the weight of their losses settling over them. Elijah pulled his younger brothers into an embrace, their foreheads touching.

"I will find Rebekah, I promise. Niklaus, find Y/N, get her to safety," Elijah instructed.

"But brother-" Niklaus began.

"Now!" Elijah roared.

Niklaus and Kol exchanged a glance and nodded, and Elijah took off in one direction.

Niklaus and Kol began to search the village, but all they found were the bodies of their people, dead and dying.

The sound of your screams caught Niklaus' attention, and he rushed towards the noise, Kol close behind.

They found you, being held by a raider, he was ripping at your clothes, and you were fighting him with all your might.

Kol saw Rebekah being loaded onto a cart and he rushed after it.

Niklaus' vision turned red, and he charged at the raider, pulling him off of you and tackling him to the ground. His blood was boiling, and he couldn't stop his rage.

He slammed his fist into the raider's face, again and again. The sound of bones crunching and the taste of blood filled his senses. He attacked him like a rabid beast and he watched you get to your feet and lunge at another raider, cutting him down with just a wood axe. He smiled and laughed at the sight, the goddess Freja possessed you, beautiful and deadly.

He heard the sounds of Gerda's screams and watched you chase after her. He went to follow but was knocked over by a blow to the head.

He rolled over, the world spinning around him. He tried to stand, but he stumbled and his vision blurred. It was like everything was moving in slow motion, and silence fell.

He saw you being dragged away, kicking and screaming. He saw Kol, fighting a few paces away, his movements becoming slower and sloppier as his wounds took their toll. But he had saved Rebekah, she was helping him stay upright, the two of them fighting back to back.

He saw a raider raise his axe to strike Kol, and he saw Rebekah push him out of the way. Blood burst from her face as the blade made contact. She fell to the ground, clutching her head.

It was as if Thor himself had struck him with lightning, he forced himself to stand, roaring with pure rage. He grabbed a spear from the ground. He hurled it, watching as it impaled the raider, a look of surprise and pain on his face as he fell to the ground, dead.

Niklaus rushed towards his siblings, grabbing them and dragging them to their feet.

"Go!" He shouted, picking up Rebekah and dragging her towards the tree line, Kol close behind.

He looked back, trying to see you, but you were gone.

They stumbled into the woods, the sounds of the raid fading into the distance.

"Where's Elijah? Henrik, Gerda, Y/n?" Kol asked, panic in his voice.

Niklaus didn't reply, the weight of his sister and the wound in his side making it difficult to breathe.

"Niklaus, where are they?" Kol repeated.

"I- I don't know," Niklaus panted, stumbling over a branch.

The trees loomed above them, the darkness of the forest threatening to swallow them whole.

They continued to run, the sounds of the battle growing distant.

"We will find them. But first we must get Rebekah to a healer, she will die if we do not," Niklaus stated, his voice low and determined.

"We can't just leave them," Kol protested, his voice cracking.

"You don't think I know that!" Niklaus yelled, louder and angrier than he meant to.

Kol was quiet, the only sounds were their labored breathing and the crunching of leaves beneath their feet.

They walked for what felt like an eternity, the pain in Niklaus' side growing worse with every step. The rapidly falling snow making it hard to see.

Niklaus could hear Kol sniffling and muttering to himself, his younger brother was barely holding on.

He was struggling too, the guilt and pain eating away at him.

He had failed you.

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four}

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