#I need her to appear in the story I want to hear her silky deep voice Im
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The Donna Chronicles II
What Happens to me Next, & New Slaves? ...a True Story
So, I am now a teenage guy with a huge secret... I know, it seems that all teenagers have their huge secrets... Week, mine is that I have apparently joined the world of the "Unconventional". You see, I really can't share with ANYONE that I am a Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave. More so, if the fact that I am actually Donna's Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave ever got out, it would ruin both of us... But, that is okay. I'm fine with it. I absolutely love wearing Donna's white pantyhose for her under, or with whatever I am wearing whenever I can. Honestly, there is a certain thrill to doing so, they feel amazing, & it makes me feel closer to her.
Believe it or not, it doesn't really change the day to day of my life very much at all. I still go to school. I still play my guitar & bass. I still hang out with my friends, even Mike! Though, I make it a point to never, ever discuss his Mom with him for any reason. I'm sure he would appreciate not knowing anything about his Mom & I a great deal! I am just a normal Highschool kid with a different lifestyle, & a major secret just like most teens like me are all trying to keep under wraps!
Shortly after my 15th birthday, Mike & I were jamming in his bedroom one Saturday morning. We were also trying to figure out what we were going to do the rest of the day... Suddenly, the door to his room flung open, & his Mom came barging in, flounced down on the bed between us, & said...
"...Hello fellas! So, what are we all going to do today? Fellas? Guys?"
Donna had flounced on to Mike's bed wearing a very short nurse's uniform, showing off her long gorgeous silky nude pantyhosed legs, feet, & toes. This immediately started dropping me into a very deep hypnotic trance for her. On my way to hypnotic pantyhose oblivion, I managed to notice something strange. It had appeared as if Mike was suddenly deeply hypnotized as well. Donna looked over at her son with a big smile, & said...
"...Oh, my sweet son... You look so very tired... You need to rest. I want you to go to your brother's room, & lay down on his bed. You will immediately fall into a deep, restful sleep for me, & you will stay asleep until I wake you. When I do wake you, you will have no memory of anything regarding anything that happens this morning. Not your friend coming over, playing music, seeing me, or even getting up... Now, get up, go to your brother's room, & obey your mother..."
Mike stood up, clearly he was in a very deep hypnotic trance, he put his guitar on it's stand, & said... "Yes, Mother... As always... I hear, & I obey... I have neither choice, nor will of my own, save for your will..." ...& then he just left the room...
At this point, I was now completely under Donna's hypnotic spell, & simply couldn't look away from her beautiful pantyhosed legs, feet, & toes. She looked back at me, & with a big smile she reached for my feet pulling off my socks, & freed my own white pantyhosed feet & toes for all the world to see. With a triumphant smile, she took me by the hands, & raised me to stand beside the bed with her... She reached for the buttons on my jeans, & release them so they would drop to the floor. With a firm grip on my hand, she helped me to step out of them.
Still with me in hand, she led us out of Mike's room, down the hallway, & into her bedroom. Once inside, she seated me on the edge of her bed, suddenly released my hand, & began to tease me with several poses on small block hassock across from the bed...
As I sat there gazing helplessly at my Hypnotic Pantyhose Mistress... My appreciation for her beauty & antics was obviously apparent. She then got up, and again took me by the hand, & raised me to stand before the bed. She then continued her tease by diving onto her bed, & playfully looked back over her shoulder at me. She was breathtaking, all splayed out on the bed in all her perfect soft, & silky pantyhosed splendor...
I couldn't have been more aroused, & judging from Donna's expression of approval from the bed... Well, it appears her desired effect on me was definitely confirmed, & maybe quite substantial.
The line we had to tow always seemed to place us in precarious situations. Donna was far more than just my Hypnotic Pantyhose Mistress, she was also my best friend's Mom, my Mom's best friend, & on top of all of that she was my heart's desire in every way... Physically, I found her to be perfect. She had a keen intellect that surpassed mine, as well as most peoples'. Emotionally, well... She felt deeply, & she loved fiercely... She also had appetites that she gave in to, from time to time. Sexually, she was my fantasy & my ideal... Completely unobtainable... From the bed, she said...
"...You are such an amazing subject, & an even better Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave, my Love... All of my teasing must be tantamount to pure torture for you. What I want you to do is reach down & gently rub yourself through my pantyhose you are wearing for me... Caress yourself the way you wish I would with my soft, silky, perfect pantyhosed feet & toes..."
I couldn't resist... I had no will of my own, there was only Donna's will... I had no choice, but to obey... I reached down & began rubbing & caressing myself through the soft, silky pantyhose I was wearing...
It didn't take very long before the world stopped. Just several strokes & caresses into obeying my Hypnotic Pantyhose Mistress's commands, I could not help myself, I exploded into a large & lengthy orgasm for her. I couldn't stop rubbing & caressing until the orgasm completely subsided. I collapsed to the floor right where I had been standing in rapt attention for Donna's teasing... She let out a gasp, & a short throaty chuckle, & said...
"...My, My... My Sweet Boy... Was all of that just for me? What a wonderful Dear boy you are... You are such a treasure! Starting tonight, & every night from now on... When you go to bed each night, whenever you are alone, or if you happen to be with me... You will fall into a very deep hypnotic trance for me... If you are not already wearing my special pantyhose, you will immediately put them on... You will then slide under the covers... You will then start to rub & caress yourself through my pantyhose in devotional masterbation to me... Once you bring yourself to the climax, your trance will turn to regular deep sleep, where you will dream of me, & how much you love being my Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave..."
After an unexpected, yet truly amazing day spent with my Hypnotic Pantyhose Mistress, I had a nice meal with my family that night. We even hung out & watched TV together as a family, which we haven't done together in some time. This wonderful day at an end, I decided to head to my room & turn in...
Once I was in my room, I took off my clothes down to my Hypnotic Pantyhose Mistress's pantyhose that I was still wearing, & truth be told I liked to go to sleep in... I placed my dirty clothes on my chair valet, turned towards my bed, & suddenly stood in rapt attention... Suddenly, all I could see was Donna as she had been when she had been teasing me earlier that day...
I felt my arousal rapidly growing, whilst I had started dropping into one of Donna's wonderful, very deep hypnotic trances for her even though she wasn't here. I continued to stand at rapt attention until my trance became very, very deep, & then without any semblance of being in control, I said aloud...
"...Yes Mistress... I am deeply hypnotized, & I will now perform my nightly devotional masterbation to you... I am nylon, & I obey..."
I then slipped into bed, under the covers, & in states of intense sexual arousal, deep hypnotic trance, & absolute hypnotic pantyhose bliss I proceeded to rub & caress myself, to & for everything Donna & her pantyhosed perfection. I rapturously continued through my climax for her, & when I woke the next morning I was even more enamored with Donna than ever before... Unfortunately, My new nightly "devotional" meant daily morning cleaning, & figuring out a place to hang dry my "enslavement shackles" without anyone finding them, & asking unanswerable questions.
Donna & I had gone on to have similar encounters like this as often as either of us could manage. Whenever we found ourselves alone where we wouldn't be discovered, or otherwise interrupted they occasionally happened spontaneously. Donna was also not above using her extensive skills of persuasion, & such talents to "create" such suitable conditions as she had done before with her son...
A little later that summer we had a different sort of encounter, where she had actually called the house looking for me. This had only happened once before. I had been out for a morning trail ride on my dirt bike when she called... After I came back when I was in my room getting changed after I had cleaned up, my Mom knocked on the door like the last time... Apparently, Donna had called the house asking for me, & she asked if I could stop by their house as she had another favor to ask of me. I asked my Mom about the kind of favor Donna might be looking for, but she just simply smiled kind of vacantly & said that I must go over there to see Donna, & find out...
I could feel a low level hypnotic trance for Donna starting, my excitement straining against my silky pantyhose, & I could only let my compulsion to obey my Hypnotic Pantyhose Mistress to carry me to her doorstep to answer her summons...
As I was summoned only to Donna's house through a third party, my hypnotic trance for her remained at a low level & not very deep. So, rather than entering as I usually do when programmed to do so by her ahead of time, I knocked on the door. From the front door, I looked up the stairs, & there she was standing on the steps towards the top of the stairs, beautiful in nursing whites paired with a bright red skirt... She looked pensive, but said...
"...Hi, Honey... Please, come in... Come on up to the living room, please..."
Then she turned around on the stairs & headed back towards the living room... I entered the house, removed my shoes & socks, exposing my white pantyhosed feet for my Mistress, & followed her up the stairs, & into the living room...
Seated on the couch, she was sitting on the front edge of the cushion, with her legs crossed, & her toes of one foot pointed, & of the other resting on the floor beneath her... She patted the seat cushion next to her on the couch for me, so I sat next to her in a similar fashion as she swung around to mirror me so we were facing each other. She still looked quite pensive, causing my low level hypnotic trance to be stoked way down.
Donna had tears in her eyes, which was something that almost never happened... I asked her what was wrong. She raised a hand, then lowered it to my hands on my lap, while stretching a foot over to caress the top of mine... That immediately dropped me back into a wonderful deep hypnotic trance for her... She said...
"... It's easier for me this way... I have a favor to ask of you, my Love. Your Mum already knows & has given her blessing for you to accept my 'request'... I need you to house sit for me this coming week while I take the boys up to my Mum & Dad's place up at the lake... You will stay here, watch & take care of Fred & Jada (their cat & dog, respectively), & you will take care of the pool..."
With a small smile, she continued...
"...There is plenty of food, & plenty to drink for you, you will sleep in my bed while you are here, & you will have a dress code while you are serving me in my house... The second draw down in the middle of my dresser contains the pairs of pantyhose & tights I want you to wear while you are here... They are laid out in the sequence I want you to wear each of them, & are labeled accordingly... In the third drawer you will find the nighties & shifts I want you to wear each day & night, as well as the one-piece bathing suit you will wear with some special white tights when taking care of & using the pool... If anyone comes to the house while I am away, there is a long black men's terry cloth robe you can cover yourself with until they leave..."
Her smile faltered as she steeled herself before she continued further. She then said...
"...& now for the sad news... One of the reasons for this trip with the boys is to share this news with them... In a few weeks we are going to be moving to Salem. I am not going to tell you, or anyone else why... I will only share that we have no choice. We are going to move into a temporary place or two while our permanent home is being renovated for us..."
She concluded...
"...I want you to know that things are not going to change that much between us, if at all... It is only a town and a half away, & you will have your drivers license very soon! Once you have your license, you will have no choice, but to be at my beckon call..."
I was very deeply hypnotized, as Donna continued speaking to me, she never stopped caressing my silky pantyhosed feet with her own... This is what dropped me, continued to deepen my hypnotic trance for her, & ensured that heard, understood, & would accept & remember every word she said.
This was Donna adopting & fulfilling her role as a Hypnotic Pantyhose Mistress, & taking care of, & protecting her Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave... She was still holding my hands, when she gave them a little squeeze, & said...
"...Come with me, my Love... Let's get you settled, as you are staying here tonight since your service to me in fulfillment of my favor starts as soon as you open your eyes first thing in the morning. You must be dressed appropriately, after all..."
She had said that last part with a chuckle, as she stood us up, made me take off my pants (saying that I wouldn't be needing them for about a week) & then led me down the hall to her bedroom.
As I followed my Hypnotic Pantyhose Mistress down the hallway, my mind was buzzing with all that she shared with me... At the same time, I was completely blown away that I was going to be here, in a deep hypnotic trance for her, or at the mercy of some serious post hypnotic suggestions for a whole week! I could feel my arousal peaking at just the thought of it!
When we entered her bedroom, she showed me the drawers she mentioned & everything that was in them. Then we went back out to the kitchen & the living room to go over all of my duties, chores, & responsibilities. Then she said...
"...My Love, Michael & Mark are at their Dad's tonight, & I am picking them up in the morning to bring them up to the lake... Tonight, we are both going to be in my bed... However, you will be doing your 'Devotional' & won't even know that I am there. Besides, now I am going to actually be able to see my handy work first hand!"
As deeply hypnotized as I was, I was taken back by just how aroused I was, even within the mental fuge of my very, very deep hypnotic trance. I felt like I was ready to explode. We finished up a few odds & ends over the course of the rest of the day, had dinner together in nothing but thigh-length silk shifts & our silky white pantyhose.
It was getting painful for me at this point... But, how does the saying go? "It hurts so good..." We finally hit the bedroom to go to bed, & I discovered that Donna was a woman of her word... I dropped like a stone, even deeper than I was already... I stood at rapt attention, & said...
"...Yes Mistress... I am deeply hypnotized, & I will now perform my nightly devotional masterbation to you... I am nylon, & I obey..."
Then I slid into the bed, under the covers, & like every night, in states of intense sexual arousal, in the deepest hypnotic trance, & in absolute hypnotic pantyhose bliss I proceeded to rub & caress myself, to & for everything Donna & her pantyhosed perfection. ...rapturously continuing through the most intense climax for her I have ever had, & when I woke the next morning I was alone in the bed & rather soiled from my experiences overnight...
The next week went by like a dream. Every outfit felt incredible... Swimming in a one-piece bathing suit with tights felt incredible... Coming in from swimming & finding out Donna was making a surprise visit, but not to see me, but to hypnotize & train a new woman to be a brand new Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave.
I totally approved, & am looking forward to more! This is getting more & more fun for me! Can't wait to see what's next!
Look for "The Donna Chronicles III" to continue Donna's Story of Building her Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave Harem...
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30. harsh whisper for the micro story meme
Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story using the word or phrase - (30) harsh whispers
So, I did a lot of things that Kafka never intended to be done with long sentences. However! I wanted to write something really steamy for you since you're waiting for one of my other prompts!
Trigger Warnings: Consensual bondage, female-on-male anal, mention of safe words, grammar abuse, and edging.
Stretch
Pairing: Lann and Knight Commander Kadira (mentions of a thruple with Daeran)
'Sentences': 10
A moment between just the two of them isn't unusual, but the actions transpiring are that make this moment entirely clandestine, and with the door locked, no idle duty will draw her away; incandescent from Lann's lips will be the way to make Kadira stop before she's done.
Kadira's stroke begins at Lann's bound wrists, the silk cord stupidly expensive (they both agree) but they find themselves at a loss in finding an excuse to have not made the purchase, and down his arms to follow the pattern of vein and nerve that make his breath hitch as she leisurely makes her way down his body - a pretty silver flask rests within her hand's reach.
Over collar bone, pectoral and and over his nipples, Kadee repeats that caress again and again as she sits about his hips, his arousal pressing to the curve of her ass to leave silky-sticky stains against her ruby skin. Lann’s hips are held high by pillows tucked under him and his legs are spread akimbo and if the door was open, the world would see exactly what Kadira was doing to her stoic lover.
The sphincter muscles are tight and flinching about about her tail, her tail so slick with the oil from that pretty silver flask that it drips and stains the old cloth that's spread beneath them, making the glide as smooth as she can - Kadira isn't about rough this moment; she's about filling Lann up. Her tail is thick at the base, but her tip is whipcord thin and steadily increases with girth, her tail processing the dexterity of a finger, and Lann is slowly being stretched.
Lann's chest heaves and she feels his stomach move with each motion, her undulating tail tip isn't in deep yet though she holds it in a crook, she recognizes the little bump from her her Ring of Seeming and Daeran (who is having wine and memories with Ramien; with permission of course); and when she fucks her tail against it, Lann’s hazel eye is blown dark with desire and nearly mirrors the pupil in his golden eye; his hips struggle under her as he fights against shame of a decade among the mongrels and the safety she gives him, before his body gives in and bucks lowly with pleasure.
"Kadee," His voice is deep and growly, all pretense of humor gone, the tenor turning harsh undertones as he whispers, the mongrel’s hips roll hard as if to throw her off while chasing that need of his, his human slide gleaming with sweat while his scaled side simply gleams emerald; Kadira’s tail flickers inside of him, working against the little knot of pleasure buried deep in his muscular form in maddingly slow motions, "Kadee, Kadee, please, I need... I need more..."
The tiefling tips her head, her long black hair piled high so as not to block his hungry gaze from her mude body, her mound pressed against his groin and her lower lips wet from her enjoyment of feeling his pleasure, watching his desire mount, studying the way how he breathes, the admiring how he pleads, the way how he is free to enjoy himself and yet held in check - the very same way both he and Daeran do to her.
"Of course you do," Kadira purrs, stopping her endless caresses and reaching for the flask; the length of her withdraws from the tight, wonderful heat of his body and she hears him moan in frustration as she twists open the flask of oil to apply to her tail; after all, you can never have too much lube.
Ring of Seeming is a homebrew item in PF1 that allows someone to change their appearance. I'll likely do a drabble about it later!
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snakes on the plane
Pairing: fraud!pilot!Jaemin x stewardess!reader + wayv as cameos
Themes: 18+ | mostly smut | a sprinkle of fluff | comedy | action? | kinda pwp when I think about it now
Word count: 6.9k
Summary: Jaemin is a fraud. Counterfeit credit cards, identity theft, deceit – Jaemin has mastered them all. Tired of the chase, Jaemin decides to do one more job before his official retirement. He got his brand-new pilot uniform, fake flying license, and a lot of charisma to convince everyone to think he actually knows what he’s doing. Too bad you’re on the plane and ruin his meticulously calculated escape plan.
Warnings: jaemin does illegal stuff | drinking |
❗ there are no actual snakes in this fic 😭 | loosely based on “catch me if you can” movie but with a twist? | rude passengers with grabby hands | Ten throws a fit | sexual tension | making out | teasing | hickeys/marking | handjob (both parties receiving) | dry humping | jaemin fucks reader against the wall while she’s wearing a little sundress | safe sex |
A/N where are all the jaemin pilot fics I saw people talking about? Anyway, here’s mine. Have fun, besties ✨✨ another jaemin fic coming next week!
“You guys won’t believe who’s the second pilot on our flight today,” Charlotte said as soon as she walked inside the crew cabin. “It will be his first flight under our company’s name.”
“What do we even need a second pilot for anyway? Have we ever needed one? No. Kun is doing all the work whenever he’s on board,” Ten added with an eye-roll, adjusting his uniform, making sure he looked spotless. “Second pilots are a scam. They could help us clean up the first class. It’s so messy. I swear to God, I’m gonna quit if I have to remove cum stains from the leather seats one more time.”
“Are you done?” You deadpanned, amused with Ten’s descriptive narrative. You could hear him nag for hours. He always had some juicy story to share. Moreover, his passionate and over-the-top energy made his stories funnier than it actually was.
“Who is he?” Yangyang asked, genuinely curious.
“Here,” Charlotte showed the picture to Yangyang, gesturing for him to pass the phone among all of you. “His name is Na Jaemin. Look how ridiculously good he looks in the uniform,” she added, and you nodded your head along as you couldn’t disagree with her.
“Do I have to remind you that you’re in a committed relationship?” Yangyang remarked as he handed you the phone to ogle the picture. “You wouldn’t want me to snitch on you, would you now?”
“I like that attitude. You should try as many dicks as you can. Seduce him,” Ten interjected, representing a completely different mindset than Yangyang. While Yangyang was an angel, reminding Charlotte that she already had a deep connection with her boyfriend, Ten embodied a little devil, trying to convince her to sin.
While the guys were bickering about monogamy and casual sex, you stared at the photo, zooming in on Jaemin’s face. He looked messy and tired but still attractive. His honey blond hair was swept to the side, and it appeared so soft you felt a sudden urge to run your hand through it to see if its texture was as silky smooth as it seemed.
His uniform fitted him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build. The first button of his shirt was undone, and his tie was loosely hanging around his neck. A part of you wanted to help him readjust it, but the other thought Jaemin rocked that nonchalant messy look.
“Someone’s drooling,” Ten tutted, and you quickly shook your head, trying to save the last bits of your dignity. Thankfully, he managed to pull you out of this train of thought before your mind got a chance to wander off to really inappropriate images.
“Let’s get back to work,” you cleared your throat, readjusting your skirt as you stood up. “People will start boarding the plane soon, and it’s a complete mess,” you added, offering a faint smile.
Charlotte, Yangyang, and Ten groaned in unison that they, in fact, had to get back to work but followed your order nonetheless. All of you wanted to receive your paychecks, after all.
***
“Good afternoon; I am your pilot, Na Jaemin. Welcome to flight Chicago 127 to Cuba,” Jaemin spoke through the microphone, using his funny kindergarten teacher’s voice, making you chuckle. “We will be taking off right after safety instructions. If you need our assistance, don’t hesitate to ask our lovely staff for help. Thank you, and enjoy your flight.”
Getting the passengers to actually focus for a second seemed almost impossible. However, Ten and Yangyang managed to get the job done. Carefully, they explained the safety procedures, repeating themselves enough times for everyone to understand everything.
“Only five more hours to go,” Charlotte entered the break room, plopped down in her chair with a huff, and threw an empty tray onto the desk. “I hate these heels,” she added as she kicked off her shoes, giving herself a quick massage to ease the pain in her soles.
“We took off half an hour ago,” Yangyang remarked, making her groan in annoyance.
“I don’t want to return there. The guy from 13B is a total creep,” she carried on, and you clenched your fists in anger. Some guys from the first class disgusted you – they bought an expensive ticket and thought it entitled them to fool around with the staff. “He groped my thigh when I was distributing champagne flutes. If his hand went any higher, it wou –
“I’ll take care of him,” you offered as you were sure you could reason with him. In times of need, you could be really persuasive. “I’ll talk to him, and if that doesn’t teach him a lesson, we’ll send a mob to finish him or something,” you added, and Charlotte and Yangyang laughed, thinking you were joking.
Smirking, you let them think it was just a figure of speech.
“I heard moans coming out from the lavatory. People need to stop doing that,” Ten groaned as he entered the room to have some peace and quiet during his short break. “High-mile club is so overrated,” he added, passing by a snack cart, stealing a can of coke for himself.
“I remember when you were renewing your membership a few times a week. It wasn’t overrated then,” Yangyang remarked as he tossed a red gummy bear in the air to catch it with his mouth.
“Shut the hell up! It is lame now,” Ten huffed, taking a few large gulps of his carbonated drink.
“I’ll make a round around the first class,” you announced, volunteering to deal with the rude passengers on Charlotte’s behalf. You knew how to reason with this type of people – you’d use your communication skills to good use, and Charlotte would take some time off to rest. “I’ll be right back,” you added as you stood up. You were bobbing your head slightly as you were repeating the seat number of that nasty guy with grabby hands.
You approached the doors, and with your hand on the knob, you turned around to give your co-workers a reassuring smile before your departure. Unfortunately, when you yanked the doors open, someone was trying to push them from the other side, which resulted in you, not so graciously bumping into them.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to take a step back, only to wince in pain when your hairpin and the shoulder strap on the man’s jacket got stuck together. For a short while, you stood there, awkwardly bowed, trying to untangle yourself without pulling half of your hair; unfortunately, in vain.
“Let me,” the man said, offering his help. You could feel his hands on your scalp as he tried his best to separate the two of you. “There you go,” he whispered, handing you back your hairpin.
“Thank you, Jaemin,” you answered with a sheepish smile as you looked up and recognized him. He must’ve left the pilot cabin to introduce himself to the rest of the crew. Too bad you were on your route to check up on the passengers. You’d have to have a chat with Jaemin on a different occasion.
“No problem,” Jaemin smiled, looking at you curiously.
You made your way to the first class, attending to the passengers with utter politeness. However, all your effort went down the drain as soon as you reached seat number 13B.
“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” you spoke in your overly-courteous customer voice, offering him a faint smile.
“Where is the other chick? I ordered my lunch ages ago,” the man carped, throwing his hands in the air out of childish annoyance. Who knows, if he weren’t such a disgusting person, you might’ve sympathized with him.
“What have you ordered? I’ll make sure you receive your meal shortly,” you replied, and he hummed in wonder as his hand landed on your exposed knee. The man kept talking, but you couldn’t pay him much attention when his filthy hand felt up your skin.
“Sir,” you cleared your throat as his hand inched upward. It was the last straw. You gave him three seconds to pry his hand off, and when he didn’t, you grabbed his thumb and twisted it around until you heard a painful crack. It definitely required urgent medical attention, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“You bitch,” he yelled at you, trying to smack you with his other hand, but you squeezed his finger tighter, shutting him up.
“Listen up,” you hummed as you leaned forward to his level. “You’ll apologize to the other flight attendant once she comes with your order. And if she mentions you tried to touch her without consent, I’ll break all of your fingers and shove them up your a–
“I get it, just let me go,” he whined, trying to wiggle his hand out of your tight grasp.
“That’s what I thought,” you added with a smirk, letting go of his hand. “You may want to get it fixed once we land.”
***
After you confronted the man from seat 13B, the flight was uneventful. Without much trouble, the plane made it to Havana airport on time. The passengers were taking their sweet time to exit, but all of you patiently waited for them to leave, wishing them a pleasant stay in Cuba.
It was past 9 pm when you checked into the hotel. The airlines provided four rooms for the crew. You were rooming with Charlotte, while Yangyang was with Ten. Kun and Jaemin, thanks to their pilot privileges, secured private rooms.
“Do you want to go out? I could have some drinks to take the edge off,” you asked Charlotte as you entered your room. Having thrown her bags onto the floor, she plopped on one of the beds. You could tell she wouldn’t leave the room unless it was absolutely unnecessary.
“Actually, I was thinking I could Facetime with my boyfriend,” Charlotte replied as she pulled out her phone to skim through her notification tab. “You should ask Ten and Yangyang. They were talking something about a beach party. I promise I’ll tag along next time.”
“Yeah, no problem, I’ll figure something out,” you smiled as you tossed your suitcase onto your bed, looking for a suitable outfit for a night out. You had a few sundresses to choose from. When you showed them to Charlotte to judge, she was adamant about the red floral one on thin spaghetti straps, which revealed lots of legs, shoulders, and cleavage.
Following Charlotte’s fashion advice, you stepped out to the bathroom to take a quick shower. You needed to freshen up after the flight and wash all traces of exhaustion.
You let your hair flow naturally down your back, putting a beautiful red carnation hairpin to keep stray hair away from your face. It matched nicely with the sundress, and you loved the outcome. Having applied red lipstick and sexy eyeliner, you walked out of the bathroom, waiting for Charlotte’s approval.
“How do I look?” You asked, twirling around, letting her see the final look.
Charlotte was staring, trying to come up with a coherent compliment. Upon seeing you in your complete party attire, her mind short-circuited. “You look hot,” she finally said, giving you two thumbs up.
Though joining Ten and Yangyang at that beach party seemed fun, you decided to stay at the hotel. You were planning to use all of the benefits of your all-inclusive visit to the establishment. The airlines were covering the costs of your stay, and nothing could stop you from opening the tab at the lounge bar.
You used the elevator to get to the ground floor, where you asked the man at the front desk to guide you to the bar area. Once there, you looked around, searching for an unoccupied table to sit down at. Carefully, your eyes scanned the area until they stopped on a familiar figure sitting alone by the bar – Jaemin. You smirked as you studied his casual outfit.
Though Jaemin was incredibly handsome in his pilot uniform, the look he was sporting now was just as flattering. His white cotton shirt had its first two buttons undone, revealing a thick silver necklace resting against his honey skin and between his collarbones. Despite the scorching weather, his legs were wrapped in a pair of light blue jeans. His silky hair was now a bit frizzy (probably due to humidity), and it added a cute highlight to his overall sexy look.
Jaemin noticed you shortly after you entered the lounge, beckoning you to join him. Swiftly, he studied your features, taking in all of your beauty. You could swear Jaemin licked his bottom lip when he checked you out, but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt that he respected you enough not to do that.
“What can I get you?” The bartender asked you when you placed your purse on the bar and climbed on the barstool next to Jaemin. You looked at your companion to see what he was having in search of inspiration. Much to your disappointment, Jaemin was sipping his mojito, and it wasn’t enough to cut it after your frustrating shift. You definitely needed something with a kick.
“Tequila, please,” you ordered with a polite beam, choosing the quickest way to get buzzed.
“I don’t think we had a chance to properly introduce ourselves. I’m Jaemin,” he courteously said, stretching out his arm to shake hands with you. “You have a beautiful name,” Jaemin added with a wink as he gently tugged your palm to place a kiss against your skin. “How do you like it here so far?” Jaemin mused before he wrapped his lips around the straw, taking a sip of his drink.
“It’s so hot, but I like it here,” you answered, smiling at the bartender who placed your order on the bar right in front of you. “Thank you, Lucas,” you beamed as you read his nametag. “I’ll be having more of these; please be on stand-by,” you joked, and Lucas offered you a knowing wink before he walked away to serve other people. “What about you? Are you having fun?” You inquired, gently nudging Jaemin’s side before you swung your shot glass, pouring tequila down your throat.
“More than I initially thought,” Jaemin admitted, slurping the rest of his drink until there was only ice in the glass. “Can I get a refill?” Jaemin asked Lucas as the latter approached you with a bottle of tequila, unprompted pouring you another shot.
“Naturally,” Lucas replied, fixing Jaemin another mojito. “Do you have plans later? My shift ends in an hour, and there’s this beach party. Do you want to go there with me?” Lucas turned to you, boldly asking you out. Taken aback, you looked at him and then at Jaemin, trying to politely reject his advances. You were fluttered, but you didn’t really feel like leaving the hotel tonight.
“Sorry, I have to pass,” you replied, avoiding eye contact with Lucas as you downed your liquor.
“No worries. If you ever change your mind, I’ll be here.” Lucas smiled, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“Thank you,” Jaemin said when Lucas handed him his fresh minty drink.
“Do you mind leaving the bottle?” You asked Lucas as you were more than capable of pouring your own shots. After all, there were plenty of people at the bar waiting for drinks, so the least you could do was to save Lucas the hassle. “Thank you.”
Feeling somewhat buzzed, you bobbed your head to the rhythm of the music. You didn’t know the song nor the artist, but your feet were itching to hit the dance floor.
“Where are the others? Don’t tell me they’re hiding away in their rooms,” Jaemin asked, looking around, wondering what the rest of the crew was up to. He was hoping for some integration, but it didn’t seem like it was happening tonight.
“Ten and Yangyang went to that beach party everybody is talking about,” you started, and Jaemin hummed, nodding his head. “Charlotte, on the other hand, is having cyber-sex with her boyfriend over Facetime,” you added, and Jaemin spat his drink, taken aback by your unfiltered honesty. “I don’t know about Kun. He must be taking advantage of his pilot privileges.”
“Kun’s out, actually,” Jaemin revealed, and you looked at him, wanting to hear more about Kun’s business. “He’s meeting his fling tonight.”
You knew it was common practice for pilots to have women in every city at their beck and call, but there’s a lot of decency to Kun, so you thought he was different.
“I guess that means you’re stuck with me,” you stated with a smirk, genuinely glad everything turned the way it did. You could have Jaemin to yourself tonight without anyone to steal him away. “Do you want to dance?” You asked, craning your neck to the side, watching people having fun on the dance floor. You shook your shoulders to the rhythm, hoping for Jaemin to follow suit.
“I’m good,” Jaemin said, rejecting your proposition.
At first, you were disappointed with his reply, but you quickly shook it off. There were a dozen of other men who would kill to have a dance with you anyway.
“Your loss,” you whispered, downing another shot. “You can watch,” you teased as you pushed yourself off the barstool. Without looking backward, you walked toward the dance floor.
“Can I have this dance?” A handsome man asked you for a dance, and you grabbed his hand, letting him lead you to the middle of the dance floor. “You’re the most beautiful woman in here,” he whispered into your ear as he twirled you right into his arms, swaying his hips in sync with yours.
“You tell that every woman,” you replied with an eye roll, suspecting his compliment wasn’t as genuine as he tried to make it seem. It didn’t bother you that much anyway; you just made that remark to tease him a little. It’s not like he’d get anything more than a dance.
“I only say with I mean,” he confessed, and you giggled, following his footwork. “Is the guy who is glaring at me your boyfriend?” He inquired, and you were quick to answer that Jaemin was just a friend. Gingerly, you stole a peek at Jaemin. His jaw was tense as he watched you dance with the handsome stranger, internally fuming.
Na Jaemin was acting envious – God, how much you hoped for him to grow a pair and snatch you away. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours, and you smirked, challenging him.
Jaemin liked to think he was a collected person, but now, you were pulling all the right strings to frustrate him. Your previous conversation was short, but the suggestive tone riled him up. Without a shred of doubt, you could seduce a man with ease, and Jaemin cursed himself for actually wondering if he should steal you away. The way that random man’s hands were feeling you up really rubbed him the wrong way.
“Fuck it,” he huffed, downing his mojito in a few large gulps.
Although you were dancing with a talented dancer, your gaze wandered off to Jaemin. You found it incredibly hot when Jaemin was draining his glass. Jaemin’s head was tilted back, giving you a perfect angle to watch him swallow the beverage. Suddenly, you felt thirsty, too.
“I think it’s my turn,” Jaemin yelled over the music, yanking you against his frame.
“What took you so long? I was slowly losing hope,” you jabbed as you bit your lip, letting Jaemin take the lead. “You know salsa? Jaemin, I am impressed,” you added, and Jaemin smirked, enjoying the way his name rolled off your tongue.
“I am a man of many talents,” Jaemin bragged, smirking. You had no idea how much information his statement carried, and your obliviousness amused him. “You have no idea,” he whispered into your ear as he twirled you around. With one hand on your hip, Jaemin danced, leading you through the dance floor. You were in the center of attention, and people seated by the tables watched your sensual performance in awe.
You had no idea how many songs you danced to with Jaemin. Your eyes were trained on his as you swayed to countless melodies. You were so consumed by his lustful gaze you didn’t even notice when the crowd inside the bar decreased by half. Dancing with him felt so intimate you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings. You were lost in Jaemin’s arms, in the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips in the brisk rhythm.
“I really want to kiss you right now,” Jaemin finally confessed when he couldn’t deal with the sexual tension any longer. He was frustrated beyond reason, and he could only hope the feeling was mutual. He couldn’t be the only one who felt that alluring magnetism between you two.
Instead of giving him your verbal consent, you took the initiative and surged forward, smashing your lips against his. The kiss was needy, desperate even, consuming the both of you. His hands cupped your face to hold you in place as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, making you moan in pleasure.
“Let’s go to your room,” you breathed out, but Jaemin ignored your proposition, pulling you against his chest. Jaemin leaned in to nip at your lip, kissing you with utter passion. It was unlike of him, but you made him unreasonably insatiable. “Jaemin,” you said when he pulled away to take a breath.
If it was up to him, he’d fuck you, right here, right there. Jaemin was so doomed he would’ve railed you in your silly sundress in the middle of the dance floor if you let him. He didn’t even give a shit about the people at the bar; for all he cared, they could stay and watch him make you come.
“Ugh, fine,” Jaemin whined as he pressed his forehead against yours, trying to calm down and think straight. “Let’s go,” he added, giving your butt a playful spank, escorting you out of the dance floor. “Don’t forget your purse, princess,” Jaemin tsked, taking pride in making you fail to remember about your belongings.
Having pushed the button corresponding to the level where his room was, Jaemin turned to you and pressed you against the elevator’s wall, capturing your lips once again. Right now, there were no spectators (maybe except for the staff watching the CCTV tapes), and Jaemin felt shameful enough to sneak his hand under the hem of your sundress.
Jaemin expected you to push him away and nag him, so it came as a surprise to him when you buckled your hips, encouraging him to continue his sinful ministrations.
“Someone’s impatient,” he tutted, smirking at you before he shoved his tongue right back, taking your breath away.
“Look who’s talking,” you challenged as you looked downward, checking out the tent he was sporting in his jeans. “These jeans seem tight. It must hurt,” you cooed in fake sympathy, stretching your arm to feel how hard he already was. Too bad Jaemin grabbed your wrist mid-air, stopping you from teasing him further.
“Don’t do that, princess,” he warned you, holding your hand tightly if you tried to cup his length again despite his protest. Your teasing felt like you had the upper hand in this situation, and it wasn’t what he was used to.
“Fine,” you pouted, deciding not to wriggle your wrist out of his hold.
After a minute of humming to the generic tune, you heard a ping, and the elevator doors slid open. It was a success that you made it to Jaemin’s floor, and the both of you still had your clothes on. You seriously doubted you could keep it together for that long.
Letting go of your hand, Jaemin reached into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out the key card. Quickly, he unlocked the doors and pushed them open, letting you enter first.
“Your room is way better than mine,” you stated in awe, staring at the posh interior. The company should value its employees equally, but there’s nothing you could do to fight the pilot privilege.
“You’re more than welcome to stay in my room,” Jaemin declared, and you smiled, wondering whether he meant it as a regular thing or just tonight. You didn’t peg him for such a considerate person, and you were positively surprised he even made such a proposition.
“Where were we?” You asked as you draped your arms around Jaemin’s neck, pulling him into a fervent kiss. Instantly, Jaemin rested his hands on your butt, holding you tightly against his frame.
“I want to be inside of you so badly,” Jaemin moaned before his lips moved downward, nibbling the delicate skin of your neck. Having you pressed against the wall, with your legs wrapped around his hips, did a number on him.
“Jaemin, wait,” you whispered, craning your neck to the side, hoping he’d stop for a second. “There’s something I need to tell you,” you confessed, trying your best not to give in to your sinful urges. You could feel physical pain because he was too far away, yet you needed to come clean.
“What is it?” Jaemin hummed, paying you little to no attention, hyper-focused on peppering your exposed cleavage with gentle kisses. “I’m sure it can wait until morning,” he added, and you cupped his cheeks, making him face you. “Okay, fine,” Jaemin huffed, ruffling his hair as he took a step back, giving you a chance to speak up. “What is it? I’m listening.”
“I know who you are,” you disclosed, and Jaemin looked at you with a cocked eyebrow in confusion.
“So?”
“You don’t understand. I know who you really are,” you rephrased, hoping Jaemin would get the hint. For a genius fraud, he was pretty slow tonight. Apparently, all of the blood went from his brain down to his crotch. “And I’m not a flight attendant. It’s just an elaborate act.”
“Who do you work for? Interpol? CIA? ” Jaemin barked at you, pressing his forearm against your throat as if you were a threat to him. If you wanted to take him down, you would’ve done so before he had boarded the plane.
“Ew, I am not working for the police,” you revealed, smacking his arm away, taking offense. Did he seriously think that someone from the police could track him down so effortlessly? The law enforcement was just a bunch of idiots – the best police units wouldn’t find Jaemin nearly as quickly as you did. “How could you think that? I am disgusted.”
“Who do you work for then?”
“I’m a part of an elite fraud ring, and I’ve been chosen to recruit you. We don’t really have a name, but the police call us the serpents. Rings any bells?” You explained, and Jaemin bit his lip in thought, trying to organize every piece of information. Given the boner restrained in his jeans, it was a tricky thing to do, but Jaemin tried his best to focus.
“I’m flattered but not interested,” Jaemin spoke, letting out all of the air he didn’t realize he was holding in. “I appreciate the effort, but I am retiring. Do me a favor and see yourself out.”
In all honesty, you didn’t expect Jaemin to react the way he did. You didn’t anticipate him to gladly accept your invitation per se, but his current apathy took you by surprise. Although Jaemin seemed somewhat tired of the chase, he wasn’t the type of a person to give up.
“It’s not a proposition you can turn down like that,” you started, trying to reason with him.
“I just did,” Jaemin answered stubbornly, cocking up his right eyebrow, curious about your next move. “How did you even get in?” He folded his arms, awaiting your villain origin story.
If one had to compare your nefarious achievements with Jaemin’s – you’re the big fish. Your villainous resume was filled with plenty of spectacular heists, one of which even brought you international fame. The diamond heist, which you flawlessly orchestrated and helped to conduct, was widely known among law enforcement as well as the public.
“New Year’s Eve Snow Ball, Macao. Two years ago,” you revealed, and Jaemin looked at you in complete shock. No, it was not possible. There was no way you were the brain behind the coup de maître of heists. Jaemin couldn’t believe he was in the presence of crime royalty.
“You gotta be shitting me,” Jaemin chuckled, having trouble believing you. “There’s no way it was you. No. You wouldn’t be an errand girl, headhunting low profile conmen if that’s true,” he rambled, feeling a bit intimidated after knowing of your criminal past.
“I’m just passing the time until a good opportunity presents itself,” you stated with a smile, quick to explain your temporary hiatus. “Besides, it was quite fun. Tracking you down, I mean. You’re really good at what you do,” you genuinely admitted, hoping your compliment would stroke his ego. You’re obviously better, but his skills were nonetheless admirable.
“Thank you for your offer, but even if I wasn’t retiring, I would still have to reject it. With all due respect – I work alone,” Jaemin confessed, and you rolled your eyes, knowing it wouldn’t be a piece of cake to convince him. “Now, please leave. I’ve got stuff to do,” he added, looking down at his erection, desperate to tend to his primal needs.
“Couldn’t you think about it?” you cooed when you walked up to him, adjusting his collar. “It’s more a matter of membership rather than commission. Don’t worry; you get to keep all of your autonomy. You will also have clearance for all resources,” you carried on, the mixture of his cologne and sweat distracting you. “There are also other benefits included, like, for example, unlimited access to undetectable private islands, a wide net of connections, free healthcare, and many more.”
“Sounds too good to be true,” Jaemin concluded as he grabbed your wrists, pulling them away. “Where’s the catch?” He challenged, trying to intimidate you by staring into your eyes. Unfortunately, you felt more aroused than daunted.
“There’s none,” you grinned, whipping your phone out of your purse to mail him the first draft of the membership contract. You had signed almost an identical one shortly after your infamous Snow Ball heist, and being a part of this elite association was a pleasure. “Please read it in your free time,” you added, putting your phone away.
Jaemin didn’t want to entertain the thought of actually giving it a look. It took him a while to come to a conclusion to terminate his criminal lifestyle and settle down somewhere far away from trouble. At first, it was fun, and it provided him with adrenaline highs, but it was his time to quit. Jaemin had more than enough money to live a comfortable life, so why would he risk it for thrills?
“Ugh, I’ll think about it,” Jaemin whispered, turning his face to the side as he caved. Although he was adamant about quitting, the idea of an off-grid private island tickled his fancy.
“I’d really appreciate it,” you added, reaching over to the buckle of his belt, pulling him closer. “Wouldn’t it be exciting to work with me from time to time? Or just sunbathing on the beach where no one could find you?” You sighed, your eyes closed as your imagination conjured these sensational prospects.
“What are you doing?” Jaemin asked, looking down at your hands which were unclasping his belt.
“Why are you acting so coy now?” You challenged with a raised eyebrow as you pulled the belt out of Jaemin’s jeans’ hoops, tossing it onto the floor in one fluid motion. “We can’t let work-talk ruin our night. I had high hopes. Or do you feel emasculated now that you know who I am?”
“What? No,” Jaemin said, quick to deny your groundless accusations. You were a famous individual among frauds, but it didn’t bother him that much. You were like a celebrity, yet his ego remained intact. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he smirked, staring at you fondly.
Despite your impure intentions of approaching him, you were obviously into him. Jaemin was a lot of things, but he definitely wasn’t oblivious. He wouldn’t be petty enough to turn you down when you were so eager to get into his pants. If anything, he was pleased with your needy attitude.
“Seeing you so desperate to fuck me turns me on,” he confessed, inching forward, letting his lips hover above yours. Jaemin’s feather-like touch caressed your face while his hips kept rolling against your abdomen, making you purr in elation. “Will you be a good girl for me?” Jaemin whispered as his hand slipped under your sundress to fiddle with the hem of your panties.
“Please,” you breathed out, brushing your nose against his before you kissed him, nipping on his bottom lip. “I need you,” you whispered in-between hungry kisses, trying to release his restrained erection out of his jeans. “Jaemin, take me.”
Your desperate pleas were music to his ears. Maybe if he wasn’t sexually frustrated, he’d tease you. However, right now, he needed you as much as you needed him. Hastily, Jaemin pushed your thighs apart with his knee and pulled down your panties, tossing them next to his forsaken belt.
“You’ve never answered my question, princess,” Jaemin murmured before his lips peppered little kisses down your exposed neck and collarbones. His knuckles dug into your sides as he rubbed your front against him.
“Yes, please. I’ll be good,” you breathed out, your eyes shut as you focused on Jaemin’s mouth against your skin. “Jaemin,” you moaned, grabbing his hand and guiding it to your entrance. You appreciated his tender ministrations, but now, you just needed him to fuck you with his fingers.
Grinning against your skin, Jaemin ran his fingers against your wet folds, fiddling with your clit. As soon as you felt his touch, you let a puff. Calmly, he spread your essence all over your pussy before he returned to pinching and rubbing your sensitive core.
While Jaemin worked you up, you decided to return the favor and cup his erection through his jeans. Perhaps, it wasn’t something a good girl would do, but you were sure Jaemin would let it slide.
Acting on his urges, he rubbed his manhood against your hand, so you considered it a perfect moment to take it a step further. Carefully, you undid his jeans and slid your hand underneath the hem of his boxers to give his twitching cock a few cautious strokes.
“You can fuck me now. I can take it,” you urged him, rubbing precum against the length of his cock.
“Let me be the judge of that,” Jaemin whispered in a low register as he pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling your walls stretch around them slowly. “Are you sure? I beg to differ,” he remarked, pumping his fingers in and out with a mischievous smirk.
The squelching sounds of your core mixed well with your shallow breaths, turning you on even more. You were hissing Jaemin’s name right into his ear as he prepped you. In no time, he learned where to stroke to get desperate moans out of you, unscrupulously making a mess of you.
“I can’t,” you whined, unable to go any longer without his cock inside of you. Jaemin’s fingers drove you insane, but you wanted to squirm around his throbbing cock. “Fuck me.”
“You gotta work on your good girl act,” Jaemin remarked as he withdrew his hand only to abruptly yank his jeans and boxers down to his knees. His erection sprung out of the fabric, proudly pulsating with excitement. “Do you have a condom on you?” Jaemin asked, tsking at you when you shook your head.
“I’ll make sure to be prepared the next time,” you eagerly replied as if you tried to make up for your not-so-good behavior.
“Wait here,” Jaemin ordered, and you leaned against the wall obediently, watching him head towards the bedroom. Not even a minute later, he came back, flashing you a small packaging between his fingers.
These pilot privileges were starting to annoy you. There wasn’t a single mini bar of chocolate on your bed, but Jaemin’s room came packed with condoms! At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised to find a whole welcome basket in his bedroom.
Staring into your eyes hungrily, Jaemin ripped the packaging with his teeth, rolling it down his erection. There was nothing special about it, but it got you rubbing your thighs in anticipation.
“Come on,” he urged you, grabbing you by your ass to help you jump and wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on tight, princess,” he added, pressing you tightly against the wall as he grabbed his cock and aligned it with your entrance.
Your sundress was flowing around your middle, obstructing your view. You didn’t really mind it, though. Jaemin’s pounds were sturdy and fast, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pure delight taking over you.
“Fuck,” you cursed, buckling your hips against him, deepening his thrusts. “Like that,” you chanted, feeling your orgasm within your reach. “Jaemin!” You shrieked, arching your back, paying no attention to your volume. With Jaemin’s cock stuffed deep inside of you, decency was the last thing on your mind.
With his hands on your ass, squeezing it, and his mouth on your cleavage sucking yet another hickey, you were losing it. Chasing your release, you rolled your hips, brushing your clit against his pelvic bone, making Jaemin grunt.
“I won’t last much longer,” you panted, running your hands through Jaemin’s silky hair, pulling him closer against your skin. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head to the back, shoving your breasts right into his face.
“Just come then,” Jaemin urged, pounding at the last bits of energy. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, but he never quivered, determined to get you off first. “Be a good girl and come around my cock,” he carried on, whispering dirty words into your ear, nipping on your earlobe.
His pace was much slower, but he made it up with deep and hurt thrusts. Earlier, you were able actively respond by rolling your hips or pulling him closer, but right now, you could only accept his ministrations, floating in pleasure. You were feeling so good, but when Jaemin slightly changed the angle and stoked your g-spot, you lost your grip on reality.
“Fuck,” you shouted as you reached your high, squeezing around Jaemin’s erection so hard that he came inside the condom just a few seconds later. With his forehead pressed against your, Jaemin kept thrusting through your orgasm until you rode it out.
“You were incredible,” you confessed with a goofy smile upon your face before you pressed the gentlest peck against his swollen lips. You didn’t quite come down from your cloud nine yet. Despite the dirty deed you and Jaemin indulged in, you felt giddy.
“Your pussy is too good,” Jaemin confessed, stealing a quick kiss from you too. “Can you stand still?” Jaemin asked, and when you nodded, he slid out of you and carefully helped you off his hips. Smiling like an idiot, you watched Jaemin discard the condom and pull up his jeans.
“What are you doing?” You asked in confusion, smirking at him. “We’re nowhere close to being done,” you added, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the bed.
You still could walk just fine, and you wanted Jaemin to change that.
***
You stirred awake past nine o’clock. The sheets were soft, and your body was still tingling nicely after all the nasty things Jaemin had done with you. If only you could, you’d stay in bed until evening and enjoy its warmth and comfort.
Having stretched your arms, you discovered you were alone.
Jaemin was gone.
Were you surprised?
Not really.
Were you disappointed?
Kind of.
You were hoping for one more round before you’d have to get ready for another flight.
Having rubbed your eyes, you looked around the hotel room. You couldn’t hear running water in the en-suite bathroom. Jaemin’s suitcase was nowhere to be found, either. There was your sundress on the floor next to your strapless bra. Grumbling, you stood up and got dressed.
Unfortunately, your panties seemed to have gone missing, and you had a sneaking suspicion Jaemin was behind their disappearance.
“The audacity of this guy,” you bitched under your breath as you noticed a pilot’s cap sitting on top of the coffee table on the other side of the room. Swiftly, you marched over there, realizing there was a tiny paper plane inside it.
‘Read me’, said the writing on the paper’s plane’s wing.
Groaning, you unwrapped the piece of paper and straightened it with your hands to read the note Jaemin had left for you, possibly justifying his premature departure.
‘Catch me if you can’.
‘P.S. I hope you do that soon.’
Having read the message, you smirked and crumbled the paper in your fist.
Of course, Jaemin would pull shit like this.
However, you found him once; without a shred of doubt, you can do that again.
#kvanity#neohub#jaemin smut#nct smut#jaemin drabble#nct drabble#nct scenarios#jaemin scenarios#jaemin fluff#nct fluff#nct dream smut#nct dream fluff
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Pranked You ;) {Colby Brock}
Request: Hello sweetie! I was wondering if you could do a story where the reader and Colby aren't dating YET but there is yah know, chemistry and tension. But one day sam decided to pull a prank on Colby and it involved EVERYONE. So basically he makes it seem like he woke up in a different world or something where stuff is different. For example: him and reader are dating (you can choose whatever other stuff happens, lol) but once Colby figures out the prank, he pulls reader aside. They have a small argument before reader blows off on him, in which he says "I've never wanted to kiss you as badly as I do know" and that's how they admit their feelings! Thank you! And can't wait to see what you write love
A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for your request, sorry for the wait, I have been very busy with school and work. I hope the wait is worth it though! Get ready for a long imagine, I’m pretty sure this is about 3,000 words. I hope you love it! I just realized that I tried to keep this imagine gender neutral but I forgot that I accidentally put some she/her pronouns in it, I’m so sorry!
Warnings: Angsty, Cussing, Mentions of alcohol, implied smut
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It was just like any other day for you. You woke up around noon because you were exhausted from the day before. Between working, going to college, and trying to keep somewhat of a social life, everyone could see just how worn out you would get day to day. So today you decided to treat yourself with a few extra hours of this beautiful thing called sleep.
Your phone rest on the bedside table and of course checking it and replying to the unread messages was the first step of your morning routine. The first messages you saw were from the group chat that consisted of you, Kat, and Tara. Apparently, while you were sleeping, Tara and Kat had a whole conversation about a girl’s day that they wanted to plan for you three. The last text sent was from Kat and it read, “I can’t wait for y/n to see all these messages in the morning. We planned the best girl’s day while she was probably passed the fuck out in her bed lmao”.
You smiled sending them a text back alerting them that you are indeed alive and down for all the plans they had created. In fact, you would be seeing them later at Sam and Colby’s place for a couple’s dinner/pool/movie date night. Jake would be there as well, and although you were tragically single, you loved all of them to death and hanging out over there was like the most elite sleepovers you would have with your best friends as a child.
A new text appeared on your screen just as you began to emerge from the comfort of your bed sheets, “God finally you’re awake. I’ve been waiting for Kat to tell me you answered her message all morning. I need your help tonight with a prank. Colby is never going to see it coming”
“A prank? I thought you guys didn’t do that anymore...? But I’m in ;)” You sent back. Out of all the trap girls and all the boys, Colby and you got along the best. Ever since you first met, which was years ago at this point, Colby and you have been inseparable. You tried so hard to avoid your feelings for him, in hopes to not develop a crush that ended up ruining your friendship, but Kat picked up on it right away. She told you constantly that she could easily set you up with the beautiful blue-eyed boy, but you insisted that things would happen naturally if there was truly something there between the two of you. And so, you went on, day by day, falling helplessly in love with the sweetest boy you have ever come to know.
Sam sent a message telling you to head over to their place as soon as possible. You swore that you basically lived there already. You were at their house way more than you were at your own. You couldn’t imagine living further than 15 minutes from them. After what felt like a century to Sam, you arrived at the house. Your hand loudly knocking on the big wooden door.
“Hey y/n! How are you?” Kat asked, pulling you into a big hug as she opened the door. You smiled and hugged back at her kind gesture, “I’m good! How are you? Do you know anything about this prank on you know who?” You questioned her. She glared at you, silently telling you to lower your volume. “Y/n! Colby is right upstairs be quiet!” She whispers, laughing at you almost blowing their cover immediately upon arrival.
Kat was quick to take you by the arm and drag you to the theater room where Sam was already sitting on one of the opulent red couches. He greeted you, telling you that he wanted to film your reaction to him telling you what prank you were going to pull. You agreed and sat down on the sofa facing the blonde. “Colby’s taking a nap right now upstairs because he was up super late last night editing one of our Sam and Colby videos. I figured we could use his exhaustion to our advantage and try and prank him that he woke up in some sort of alternate universe. I figured you could go into his room and set up a couple cameras, and I’ll keep two hidden in the living room where me, Kat, Jake, and Tara will be, so we hopefully get his full reaction. I want you to sneak into his bed and like cuddle him or something and when he wakes up, I want you to pretend that you’ve been dating him for a long time now. He is going to be super confused but just try and convince him that it’s true. If he ends up downstairs, we will go along with it too. I really want to see if he will think that it’s real after a while.” Sam explained.
You felt your face burning as your cheeks became a deep shade of red. He couldn’t be serious right? He wanted you to pretend that you were dating Colby? “I- Uh… I don’t know Sam won’t that be a really mean prank?” You tried to play it off, hoping that you didn’t just annihilate all your efforts to keep your feelings hidden. “You guys are like best friends, I don’t think he could be mad at you for such an innocent prank.” Sam replied. You began to feel incredibly flustered at the thought of having to be so affectionate with Colby. The room started to feel like a sauna as the sweat began accumulating all over your body.
Sure, you and Colby had cuddled before, but it was extremely platonic… Plus, it only happened in very specific moments, like last Wednesday after you had a couple of drinks, and everyone was sat watching a movie where he wrapped his arm around you so you could rest your head since it could barely hold itself up. You snapped out of your thoughts quickly realizing that Sam had been waiting on a response from you. You knew Sam was stubborn, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Your eyes met back with his and the only thing you could get yourself to do was slightly nod your head ‘yes’.
“Perfect.” Sam smirked, getting up to turn off the camera and hand it to you so you could set it up in Colby’s room. You already knew that he was thinking about how many points this would score him for a Sam and Colby prank war if it turns out the way he is wanting.
Before you knew it you had made it all the way up into Colby’s room where you had strategically hidden the camera, facing it towards the sleeping boy in his bed. You let out a deep sigh, trying to prepare yourself for what was about to go down. “If this ruins everything for me, I am going to kill you Golbach.” You whispered, knowing the deep sleeper wouldn’t hear a single thing. And so, the prank began.
You took a gentle hold of the silky black sheets and quietly slipped into bed right next to Colby. There was no game plan in your mind, you didn’t even think up a storyline about your fake relationship for once he woke up. You squeezed your eyes shut in fear as you quickly wrapped your body around his, resting your head under his chin as he slept on his back. He twitched slightly, bringing his arm up, lazily holding you back. The breath caught in your throat, this was already hard enough for you and now he is cuddling you back? You glanced up to see his face, his eyelashes were slightly fluttering, and his soft lips had a slight part in them. He was still fast asleep. You decided to try and wake him up by moving around in his arm slightly, hoping the movement would pull him out of his dreams.
“Y/n?” His voice rung through the room, deep and raspy. He sat up slightly, glancing around the dark lair that he called a bedroom, but his arm still remained around your frame. “W-what are you doing here?” He stuttered, visibly confused by the sight of you in his arms.
“What? I can’t cuddle my boyfriend?” You answered, shocked that you could even get those words to come out of your mouth. His eyes widened at your response, pure shock etched into his face. “Boyfriend?” You felt his heart start to race as he replied.
His arm dropped from your body as he delicately pushed himself out of bed. He was now hovering over you as he stood by the bedside table. There was a clear glass with some water sitting on a coaster on the table. His strong hand wrapped around it as he brought it up to his mouth, downing the rest of the water that was in it. You could tell by his body language that he was beyond confused. The glass clinked as he practically dropped it back onto the nightstand.
“Am I dreaming or something? Since when was I your boyfriend?” His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to look at you for some answers. Your heart sunk thinking about how mean of a prank this truly was, at least from your point of view. “Baby… Are you serious? We’ve been together for years now, are you feeling okay?” You said as you threw your legs over the side of the bed, pulling his hand into your own.
Your thumb gently rubbed circles onto the back of his hand, but only for a couple seconds before he pulled it away. “Is this a fucking prank or something?” He asked, irritation evident from his tone. You shook your head ‘no’, it was becoming hard to process words. You knew this was upsetting him, but Sam had you promise to make the prank last for as long as you could.
“I’m sorry- I have to get out of here really quick.” Colby said, making his way out the bedroom door. You said nothing back, hoping that Sam would end the prank for you as Colby made his way down the stairs.
“Hey brother! You’re finally up. Where’s y/n? I thought we were all doing a couples movie night?” Jake interrogated as Colby glanced to see Sam, Kat, and Tara standing over in the kitchen. Colby brought his hand up to his face rubbing his eyes, there’s no way that Jake is saying this too. Colby began to think that he was seriously going crazy. And then everyone else joined in on the conversation. You could hear them loudly as you stayed glued to Colby’s bed.
Sam began to ask if Colby was feeling alright, and you heard Kat say that maybe we should take Colby to the hospital in case he was losing his memory. You felt the panic in Colby rise as he was deflecting everyone’s concern insisting that he wasn’t losing his memory, and that he definitely wasn’t going crazy. He knew for a fact that you two weren’t dating, and none of them could convince him otherwise. “Dude, she’s gonna hear you up there. You’re going to break her heart. You really don’t remember?” Sam pushed.
You finally had enough. You raced out of Colby’s room and rushed down the stairs. You stopped immediately upon entering the kitchen, seeing everybody else still standing there surrounding Colby. The energy switched as they all looked to you, Sam pleading with his eyes for you to keep going. “I’m so sorry Colby, it was just a prank, please don’t be upset.” You couldn’t handle it any longer, the pain on his face was too much for you to bear. You watched as he scoffed back, “I knew it. Fuck you, guys. I’m going back upstairs.”
You felt horrible as you watched him stomp back up to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Tears stung the back of your eyes, this was all your fault. You excused yourself from the group and somberly made it to Colby’s door. You preceded to place a faint knock on the wood, “Colby? I’m so sorry, can you please open up?” Your voice was so soft, it would’ve been hard for him to hear if he hadn’t already anticipated your arrival. The door swung open as Colby quickly made his way back over to where he previously sat on the couch.
You stayed frozen at the door for a couple seconds, hoping to brace yourself for the angry boy inside. You took hold of the cold metal doorknob, pulling the door shut behind you. You tip-toed your way over to the sofa and took a seat far from Colby. Your mind was running a hundred miles an hour as you tried to concoct a coherent sentence. “What the hell were you thinking? Did you seriously think that I would find this funny?” He spat in your direction.
“It wasn’t my prank, Sam just wanted me to help him out.” You said back, desperately trying to reason with him. He sarcastically laughed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I didn’t ask who’s prank it was y/n.”
You gulped, it felt suffocating in his room. The dark ambiance that normally felt inviting suddenly seemed like your own personal hell. “Colby, I didn’t want to hurt you I swear. I was trying my best to keep everything lighthearted. I could never hurt you.” Your voice was so delicate, it was so hard to speak. The tears were still threating to make an appearance, and that was the last thing you wanted.
“But you did, y/n. That’s the thing. Whether or not you ‘meant’ to hurt me, you did. And everyone else was in on it to. Did you even try and tell Sam that this prank wasn’t a good idea? Did you even think, for a split second, that this was incredibly immature? You were all treating me like I was losing my damn mind, trying to convince me that we were dating when we clearly never were.”
His words hurt, but they were all true. You had never been together, what were you thinking pretending like you were? All to satisfy Sam? To help him get a head start on the prank wars by completely crushing Colby’s heart? He is your best friend for crying out loud. “Look Colby. I never wanted to do this, okay? Did you ever stop and think that maybe I didn’t want to be doing this either? You mean everything to me. Why would I ever purposely hurt you? Especially after everything we have been through. All the ups and downs, the messy breakups, all the fights. I love you so god damn much and I hope you know that I would never, ever, hurt you like that.” By this point the tears were streaming down your face. Your previous spot on the couch was long discarded as you now stood right in front of Colby, praying that he knew you were being serious about not hurting him.
Your eyes searched his for any glimpse of a sign showing that he believed you. His bright blue eyes looked a lot more intimidating than usual. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression not giving you any clues. Finally, he responded, “Is it wrong that I’ve never wanted to kiss you as badly as I do right now?”
And finally, there was your sign. His eyes no longer looked intimidating. In fact, they had completely changed into something much different, lust. You quickly took a step closer to him as he took a stand right in front of you, placing his strong hands on either side of your face. He roughly pulled you in, causing your lips to crash together with loads of passion. They fit perfectly together, better than you ever imagined them. They worked in sync as the feeling inside of you was igniting a fire. He was so rough, but surprisingly still gentle. Acting as if one wrong move would completely break you. Your lips remained locked as he pushed you backwards, surprising you as your back made contact with his plush bed. He was on top of you, hungrily continuing the kiss.
You both pulled apart abruptly, gasping for air after your heavy make out session. “I guess now’s a good time to let you know that I am absolutely, one hundred percent, in love with you.” You stated, starring deep into his eyes. “Then I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I feel the same.” He responded, bringing you back in for another passionate kiss. You pulled back again, “So, does this mean I can finally see those handcuffs I keep hearing about in action?” You asked him, slightly laughing. “Only if you promise to keep quiet.” He winked back. And that was the start of your amazing, long awaited relationship.
#colby brock#Sam and Colby#colby brock x reader#colby brock imagines#sam golbach#jake webber#tara yummy#kat stuart
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Bi•valve
Noun
an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.
AKA
The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean
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Vol. 2: Into the Deep // Ch. 8
Type: Poseidon x reader
Word Count: 4,500+
⚠️Warning⚠️: Slight Mature Content
Masterlist
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Blue. Everything was blue.
From the bubbles you exhaled to the sun streaming through the window. It was all blue.
Even though you’ve been staying here for about a week, you still couldn’t get used to waking up like this. Underwater. Trapped in a fairytale-like world.
Was this how Triton felt adjusting to the human realm?
“Mom?” As if summoned by your thoughts, you felt Triton shift in bed next to you. The mattress slightly caving in as the young boy cuddled close to your side. “You okay?”
“…yeah.”
You shouldn’t be the one asking me that, you can’t help but think. After all that happened last night, Triton should be the one more shaken up.
…What has this young boy gone through?
Gently, you reach down and run one of your hands through Triton’s hair. It’s silky and soft texture felt ethereal in the water-like environment. Like as if it was threads of gold tediously woven slowly by hand.
“Mom….?” Your hand pauses as Triton lifts his head to look at you. Blue… It must be because you two were underwater but Triton’s eyes were a striking bright blue today. Unlike their usual pale grayish version. Seems like everything would truly be covered in blue while you were here, “Are you sure you—“
“My, oh my. This is unexpected.”
At the sudden new voice, you jolt out of bed. It seemed like you couldn’t even get a bit of peace for a second in the place. However, as you take in the figure that was at the door you soon pause.
A butler? A human looking one at that. Was he perhaps a siren or mermaid? But he also had no tail…
“Hermes!” You feel yourself choke slightly at what Triton shouts. Hermes? As in the Messenger god? He looked nothing at all like the mythology books.
“Good day, Master Triton.” Hermes greets as Triton comes crawling out of bed and up to him. As you watch Triton start telling Hermes a story about something, you see Hermes' gaze shift from the young boy in front of him to you. Red… You are cut off guard as you notice Hermes’ eyes were a surprising color of scarlet red. As in the most ripe apples and cherries or that of a deep red ruby. However that wasn’t what entranced you the most. No, it was the unusual spider web irises that accompanied those pits of red.
“By the way, What brings you here, Hermes?” Thankfully at Triton’s question, Hermes' gaze turns away from you. Allowing you to release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You weren’t sure what it was but for some reason you felt like you had to be careful around him.
Hesitantly, you pull the covers off of your form and make your way out of bed next to Triton. You didn’t want to get closer to Hermes but you also didn’t want Triton to be left alone with the young man. Who knows what the god could be up to, “Master Zeus wanted me to return a special package to you.”
“A package?”
Nervously, you let out a small gulp as Hermes disappears back into the hallway to grab the mysterious “package”. Should you make a run for it? After all, it could possibly be dangerous. He could—
“Here it is.”
“Ack!” You can’t help but let out once you see what Hermes is holding in his arms. Did Zeus really order Hermes to go all the way to the mortal realm to grab that?
“Alexander the Great!” Triton cheers out as he grabs the ginormous king turtle from Hermes. Clearly happy to be reunited with his trusty stuffed animal. “Oh! I know the perfect spot to put you.”
You watch as Triton races across the room to a corner filled with fluffy pillows and blankets. Even here it seemed he built those nest-like beds. You wondered where he got such a thing from.
“Now, My Lady…” Startled by the warm breath on the shell of your ear, you feel yourself freeze before shakily turning to look at Hermes standing close next to you, “I have a package from Zeus for you as well.”
“O-Oh really…?” You hesitantly say as you take a step away from the god. Was personal space not a thing for them?
“Yes, now if you would follow me.” Hermes states, gesturing to the door.
“Thank you but I’m going to grab it later. I want to stay with Triton for now.”
“Oh but my Lady. I insist.”
“I’m really fin—“ You are cut off as Hermes places his hands around your waist and proceeds to carry you out of the room. He was so fast you hardly had time to blink or even realize what he had done.
“We will be right back, Master Triton.” Hermes shouts out to the young boy as he leaves the room and makes his way into the hallway. Finally able to realize what is going on, you grab at Hermes’ hands on your waist. Futility attempting to get him to let go of you.
“Hey! Let go of me.” You shout out to the god. However, the only thing you got was a curious eyebrow raise in return.
“Oh.” Hermes let out as if suddenly realizing something. Interested you pause at your fighting, only to soon regret it as you see a dangerous gleam in his eyes. As if a mischievous plan was forming in his head, “I apologize My Lady, I wasn’t thinking. You must be used to the way Master Poseidon holds you.”
“H-Hey—EEepp.”
Instantly, in pure terror, you grab onto Hermes shoulders as he throws you lightly up in the air. Thankfully, you didn’t squeal too hard as you had already known what he was possibly referring to about how ‘Poseidon holds you’.
“Now, is this more comfortable, My Lady?” Hermes asks as he holds you bridal style in his arms. What in the world was with gods and their need to hold Humans, or possibly lesser beings, this way?
Now embarrassed, especially at how the maids and servants whisper to each other as you two walk by, you give up the need to fight Hermes. Knowing there was no chance in hell you would be able to get away anyways with how strong he was compared to you.
“Lord Hermes—“
“Please, just call me Hermes.” The messenger god states cheerfully as he cuts you off. As if he totally didn’t just kidnap you.
After letting out a small sigh in frustration, you continue, “Alright, Hermes. Where are you taking me?”
“Just to the main foyer, My Lady.”
At Hermes' simple minded answer, you feel your eyebrow twitch slightly. If you weren’t already afraid of the god, you bet you would have smacked that smug look off his face by now. You could clearly see now how Hermes was the Son of Zeus, “Okay… So, Why are you taking me there?”
“To meet someone special that Master Zeus invited.”
.
..
…
You swore to god.
“Who is that special someone?” You state, making sure to emphasize on your question this time. As if sensing your frustration, Hermes, clearly pleased with your reaction, smiles slightly.
“Scylla. You are meeting Lady Scylla.”
“…Scylla…?”
You feel yourself pause at the name, an odd sense of familiarity blooming in your brain. You had definitely heard that name before but… where….?
“Scylla, as in Scylla and Charybdis.” Hermes explains, his smile growing wider as he takes in the confused look on your face. As you ponder the second name, it finally hits you about why it had all sounded so familiar.
Scylla was a legendary monster in Greek mythology that lived on one side of a narrow channel of water, opposite to her counterpart Charybdis.
Scylla's description varied from tale to tale but she was often described as a female monstrosity. Her lower body consisted of six serpent-like heads on long snaky necks, each head having a triple row of shark-like teeth. Then, on her stomach were the heads of ferocious dogs.
However, it wasn’t her appearance or the fact that she was a monster that startled you the most. No.
Scylla wasn’t always a monster. No, she used to be a nymph. There are two tales that explained as to why Scylla was turned into a monster in the first place. One of them being, as well as the most frightening one to you, was that…
…Amphitrite was jealous of Scylla.
“W-why am I meeting with Scylla?” You questioned outloud to Hermes. Whose grin only seemed to grow once you asked him.
“Pardon me but it is much more fun if you find out yourself.” Hermes explained casually as he stops in front of a room. He wasn’t…
“Wait—“
“Have a fun time, My Lady.”
And with that, Hermes proceeded to shove you in the room and close the doors behind you. That bastard… you knew you shouldn’t trust him.
“Are you Lady (y/n)?”
Freezing, you look across the room in the direction of the voice. There was no doubt that it was Scylla. But,…
You find yourself pausing as you gaze down at her abdomen.
“Pomeranians?” Instantly, after the word slips out, you cover your mouth. Great going there, (y/n).
Though, it wasn’t just the fact that the supposed ‘ferocious dogs’ were sophisticated Pomeranian that caught you off guard. The lady, well ex-nymph, before you looked about in her late 50s and was dressed quite modestly. Yet also very sophisticated.
“Yes, they are Pomeranians.” Scylla answers, seeming to take a pause as she sips from her teacup before continuing, “Now, as I asked before, Are you Lady (y/n)?”
“Oh, I apologize. I am Lady (y/n).” You answer back, not missing how Scylla eyebrows slightly twitch.
“…It seems I have a lot of work…” You hear Scylla mumble lightly under her breath as she proceeds to shake her head. What was she talking about?
“…Pardon?”
“Oh, nothing. Please take a seat, Lady (y/n).”
Carefully, you make your way across the room to sit at the table. As you do so, you don’t miss the chance to notice how extravagant the room was. Not only was it made of marble and intricate gold carvings like the rest of Triton’s Manor but it also had a beautiful ceiling mural and, next to where the table that Scylla was sitting, a wall to wall and floor to ceiling grand window view.
As you take a seat down across from Scylla, you have to hold yourself back from gasping as you could now take in the full view. There were arrays of colorful Coral reefs and plants. Some that you have never ever seen, perhaps they only grew in the realm of the gods and were special in some way. However, it was past the Coral reefs that were placed outside the window that gained your interest. Far out in the horizon, stood what looked like a grand underwater city that looked fresh out of a futuristic sci-fi movie with its intricate buildings and colorful lights.
“Ahem.” At Scylla’s cough, you finally turn your attention back to the older woman, “I will now formally introduce myself. I am Scylla, a former nymph that worked for Lord Poseidon. As well as…
…Triton’s former Nanny.”
“I see.” You let out as you take in the information the woman has told you. It seemed like just how the other gods were different from mythology so was Scylla. But, you couldn’t write off anything about Scylla yet. You didn’t know her full intentions on accepting to come to see you here today. “Can I ask why you came to see me today, Lady Scylla?”
“Of course.” Scylla answers as she carefully places her teacup back down on its plate and looks at you, “I am not here to hurt you but rather to help you. My first duty in coming here is informing you about everything you need to know. From Master Triton’s childhood to Lady Amphitrite nature, I am hoping to tell you everything possibly important I have seen in over the millennia I have worked for the family.”
Now you understand why she was here. If you didn’t understand the inner workings or secrets of the family, it could honestly get you killed. And that could count for either Poseidon or Amphitrite. It also makes sense why Zeus specifically sent her as he still had the intentions of you replacing Amphitrite as Poseidon’s wife. So, knowing what makes Poseidon tic would be crucial.
“My second reason for coming here is to teach you the proper etiquette of the gods.”
You feel your thoughts come to a screeching halt at her statement, “Huh?”
“I’m going to be honest with you, Lady (y/n),” Scylla vocalizes as she shakes her head, “Since you are a human, you are considered at the bottom in our realm. If the citizens of Atlantis don’t like you, they will kill you. If you disrespect a god or goddess, they will kill you. If someone wants your spot on the throne, they will kill you. If you aren’t strong or smart enough, you will get killed. Respect, etiquette and knowledge are the three things that will keep you alive here…”
Scylla pauses as she looks around to make sure that no one was nearby to hear what she would say next.
“Lady (y/n).” Scylla starts as she surprisingly reaches across the table to hold your hands. “I know of Lord Zeus’ plan to make you the next queen. As a former Nymph, where my kind is often taken advantage of by gods just like humans, I beg of you. Do not. Follow. Zeus’. Plan. It will surely get you killed. To him, if you die, He will simply take another human or some other god to take your place. All he wants is Amphitrite off the throne.”
It wasn’t as if you already didn’t guess that from Zeus. You already knew, deep down in an unsettling feeling in your stomach, that he considered you lesser than himself. No matter how kind he seemed to act to you.
Also it wasn’t as if you were trying to seduce Poseidon or become the next queen in anyways. Your main objective, as it always had been, was to protect and care for Triton.
You are brought back to reality as Scylla lets go of your hands and stands up, “Come. We don’t have much time.”
“Right.” Instantly, you follow the older woman as she makes her way across the room. You didn’t know where she could possibly be going but followed her anyway. “A frame?”
You look curiously at, what you guessed to be, the decorative frame of a mirror. You had no idea why you two have specifically stopped here. Was the frame important in some way, like some sort of secretive family heirloom?
However, you soon doubt that previous guess of yours as suddenly, as if bent by Scylla’s mind and will, the inside of the mirror starts to glow. It continued to glow as the light slowly trickled to the rest of the mirror and once it was fully completed, Scylla moves out of the way and gestures to it.
“You want me to walk up to it?” You ask Scylla as you make a small step to the blinding mirror. Slowly as you grow closer, you reach out your hand to slightly graze its surface. Only to realize it wasn’t a surface at all. “W-Woah!”
You are caught off guard as you are suddenly pulled into the mirror by a great force. Hissing, your eyes stung by the ever so bright light. What is happening? You thought Scylla was going to explain to you about the family history. Could she possibly have lied and tricked you?
Amphitrite… Daughter of Nereus and Doris…
“W-Who goes there?” You shout out, startled by the booming voice. “Were you the one who pulled me in here?”
However, as if the voice couldn’t hear you, it continues it’s speech and you are suddenly placed into a white blank room.
One of 50 sisters, known as the Nereids…Amphitrite grew up as any other goddess…
An ancient stone wall suddenly appears right in front of you. It’s drawings and paintings seeming to depict the beautiful Nereids.
…However, that was far from the truth…
All of sudden the paintings come to life, some of the Nereids were killing and even poisoning their sisters.
…All of those sisters were filled with greed… greed to be ever so powerful like their father and it only seemed to grow when it was announced that Poseidon would choose one to be his queen…
The stone changes once more, completely wiped clean except for one lone woman in the center. A shining crown placed on her head.
…And Amphitrite came out on top. With most of her sisters dead or banished by her, she was now the lone survivor to gain all the power she desired…as the new goddess and queen of the sea…
…However,…Poseidon wasn’t how she expected….
You are startled as the full white room, even the ground you were standing on, changes. The room now taking on an elegant bedroom. A grand circle bed was placed in the center of the room. With Pillows and silk blankets scattered around in it.
A sudden loud creak catches your attention and you spin your head around. Caught off guard at who was in front of you.
“What are you doing here?” Poseidon's voice booms out as he glares daggers at you. His form no longer dressed in his usual attire but instead one made for bed.
“I-I—“ “You can’t possibly expect nothing to happen on our wedding night.”
Taking a step away from Poseidon, you turn and realize he wasn’t talking nor glaring at you. Instead, his piercing gaze was directed at a woman sitting on the bed. A simple yet sexy nightgown covering her form.
You have never seen her before with her long and deep colored scarlet hair, with her sea green eyes and pale clear skin. But you could at least guess who she was.
“Amphitrite. Leave.” Poseidon orders, as he turns away from the woman to shrug off his shirt, “I won’t be asking again.”
The woman only giggles in response, seeming not to take Poseidon’s threat seriously as she makes her way up to the male.
“Oh god—“ You can’t help but let out. Quickly covering your eyes as you see Amphitrite loosen her strap of her nightgown, causing the article of clothing to fall to the floor. What was the woman thinking?!
Even with your heart practically beating out of your ears, you hear Poseidon let out a deep sigh and the loud sound of heavy footsteps making their way past you. From what you guess, this was a memory of the past and the two couldn’t see you.
“W-Where are you going—“ Amphitrite voice is cut off as the door is shut with a loud bang. It is quiet for a moment. Yet it was only a moment. As soon afterwards, the loud banging and breaking sounds ring out around the room as Amphitrite takes her anger out on the area around her. “That fucking piece of shit!! I’ll show you—“
Amphitrite voice is once again cut off. Yet this time not by Poseidon but instead the blinding light as the voice changes the scene. Deeming it safe, you uncover your eyes and take in the new scene around you. You were no longer in Poseidon’s bedroom but seemed to still be in the palace. This time the bed was a simple queen one, it’s sheets covered in blood that scared you for a moment. That is until another item gains your attention.
A baby crib.
Amphitrite was furious about how she couldn’t get Poseidon to bend to her will. She believed that he should be groveling at her feet and craving for her affections…
…This only got worse after she found out she was pregnant with an heir that Poseidon didn’t care for….
Startled by what the voice was saying, you take a step towards the baby crib. That means this crib was…
You let out an audible gasp as you lean over the crib. An ever so familiar pair of pale blue eyes staring up at you. It was baby Triton.
Damn, you wished you had your phone on you to take a picture of this moment. He was just all too adorable.
At the pregnancy of the child, Amphitrite left it in the hands of a nanny. Not wanting to bother with a child that will only hold her back.
“Lord Poseidon. I beg of you, Please do not hurt—”
“Silence.”
That voice… Hastily, you make your way across the room to the door that was slightly ajar. Standing outside was Poseidon, a couple of his attendees and Scylla. Scylla, who seemed to be back when she was a nymph, was on her hands and knees, begging something out of the god.
“Tch.” Poseidon lets out, seeming annoyed. You freeze as you see the male grab his trident and make his way towards the door.
“Lord Poseidon, Pleas— Ack!” As Scylla tries to bring her head up and grab onto Poseidon to stop him but before she could do so an attendee stomps on her back. Stopping her in her tracks.
“Do not come in.”
You back away as Poseidon makes his way into the room, shutting the door behind him. He wasn’t planning to…
You cover your ears as a loud screeching sound fills the room. It was coming from Poseidon’s trident as he drags the blade across the floor, Leaving long scratching indinents in the marble floor.
This is in the past, (y/n). You forcibly remind yourself as you watch Poseidon get closer to the crib. Triton is still alive, he’s not going to die here.
You freeze as the screeching sound stops and Poseidon lifts his trident. Uncovering your ears, you stare, mind boggled, at what happens next.
Poseidon… was whistling.
Was he attempting to soothe the baby before he killed it? What sort of Psycho was he—
“Ah! Stop!” You shout out as Poseidon’s trident comes barreling down towards the crib. He was going to actually kill—
Suddenly, Poseidon’s arm comes to a screeching halt.
“Bo ba ba booo.” Triton babbles away, seeming to attempt to imitate the song Poseidon had just whistled out.
.
..
…
“Tch.” Poseidon imbeds his trident in the marble before picking Trident up by the back of his onesie.
That’s not how you were supposed to carry a child! You could accidentally cause it to choke itself.
As you make your way closer to the two, worried about Triton’s safety, Poseidon once again whistles out. His gaze trained to the baby’s face.
“Boooo ba ba boo.” Triton lets out again, seeming to try his best to imitate Poseidon. Giggling slightly at the end as he reaches out towards his father and grabs a piece of Poseidon’s hair.
“You’re doing it wrong.” Poseidon mutters out as he brings his other hand up to Triton, the time adjusting his grip so that he was holding the baby by the armpits.
Poseidon whistles out once more. This time going slightly slower for the baby to listen.
Was this guy seriously attempting to teach a baby how to sing a song when he tried to kill it only seconds ago? Plus it was a baby for crying out loud.
“Hey! Get back here!”
The door comes flying open with a startling bang as Scylla trips her way into the room.
“I warned you!” Scylla screams out as the attendees' sword comes barreling down at her. However, thankfully, it never hits her. “L-Lord Poseidon-n…”
You cover your mouth as the attendee falls to the ground, his body separated in half by the trident Poseidon had just thrown.
“Silence.” Poseidon orders out to the rest of the attendees, who quickly release Scylla and back away. “You, Lady. Come here.”
“M-me?”
Scylla freezes as she sees the look Poseidon gives her. About how she should know better than to make him repeat himself. Frantically, she makes her way over to the two.
“What’s its name?” Poseidon asks Scylla. Who grows pale as she watches as Triton pulls at Poseidon’s hair. Yet, surprisingly, the god of the sea doesn’t flinch nor remove the annoyance, allowing the baby to continue what it was doing.
“I-uh. L-Lady Amphitrite never gave the child a name...”
Silence. You let out a small gulp as you anxiously take in the scene in front of you. Poseidon definitely wasn’t pleased with this development.
“Pardon me, M-My Lord. May I suggest something-g?” Scylla stutters out as she anxiously twiddles her thumbs. She seemed to be on the brink of collapsing from stress and anxiety.
“Speak.”
“Why…Why don’t you name the boy?”
Once again silence. However, it wasn’t as tense as the previous one. It seemed Poseidon was truly pondering Scylla’s suggestion.
“Triton.” Poseidon booms out. “His name will be Triton.”
“An E-Excellent choice, My Lord.” Scylla compliments. Yet, even though Poseidon accepted her suggestion, she didn’t seem pleased. “A-Another thing, My Lord. You aren’t supposed to hold a baby in that manner.”
“Huh?”
Quickly, Scylla attempts to cover her mistake, “I-I mean-n! You can hold the boy however you want. It just that isn't the most comfortable manner! You don’t have to listen to what I suggest. Please forgive me.”
You are surprised once more as Poseidon gives Scylla the baby. Seeming to tell her to show him how to hold Triton without wanting to ask. You have grown to notice that his pride seems to get in the way of things a lot of the time.
It eerily, in a way, reminded you of what happened last night when Poseidon listened to your own suggestion. Would he act in a fit of rage this time as well? Could this be how Scylla got—
“Bah!” Triton shouts out, startling you out of your thoughts. Currently, Poseidon was attempting to cradle Triton the way Scylla had shown him. The nanny fiddled with her fingers as she worriedly watched the two.
“Booo ba ba booo…. Boo boo boo boooo… boooo….” Triton babbles out, this time somewhat replicating the song accurately.
“Heh.”
Heh? You are startled at the sound Poseidon makes. Did he just laugh slightly?
Inching closer, you take in the look on Poseidon’s face as he looks down at Triton. As if his cold exterior had cracked ever so slightly, you could see a sliver of fondness in Poseidon’s cold blue eyes. A look that showed love for his newborn son.
…Yet, you thought Poseidon didn’t feel that way about Triton.
“My Lord.” Poseidon's fondness quickly disappears as he turns to look at Amphitrite who stood at the door. You could see an ever so slight smirk on her face. “I didn’t realize you wanted to visit our son. You should have told me, I would have come with you.”
Oh. Was it because…
“Zeus and Hera wanted to see the child.” Poseidon lies to Amphitrite as he gives the child back to Scylla. Seeming to believe her husband, Amphitrite's smile soon turns to a scowl.
“I see.” She bitterly spits out before walking away. Not wanting to stick around for any longer.
Once Amphitrite footsteps are no longer heard, Poseidon turns back to Scylla. Whispering in a low voice so that the attendees can’t hear.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. Same time. Don’t be late and don’t tell anyone.”
With that Poseidon walks away, his attendees quickly chasing after him. As Scylla seems happy with the new found development, hugging Triton tightly to her chest as she showers him in praises, you… didn’t know what to think.
You…
…Couldn’t wrap your head around why your chest aches so much when you watch the two.
…What in the world happened between Triton and Poseidon that changed them…?
Author Note: Just in case people didn’t see my notice about this yesterday. I decided to split Ch. 8 into two parts, due to it revealing a lot of things. So the second part will be up tomorrow (Friday). If there is any confusion, please feel free to ask or comment. I will be checking my tumble a lot today since I know this is a crazy chapter.
Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea @anime-lover-forever-1127 @fortuna-stella @icy-spicy
#shuumatsu no valkyrie#shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader#snv poseidon x reader#snv#snv poseidon#bivalve
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Starfall - Azriel x fem! Reader
Disclaimer: this is my first piece I’ve ever published. I’m not taking requests but would be open to ideas for new things to write! Let me know what you think. I had this idea the other day and couldn’t stop thinking about it until I wrote it down. I also originally named the main fem! character but decided to make it Y/N at the last minute, so if her name is in there then whoops! Either way, enjoy xx
Starfall. The most beautiful night in Prythian. Souls traveling to a far off place, leaving a blinding beauty in their wake. The Night Court prepared for weeks to welcome their passage.
Each member of the Inner Circle enjoyed this day, but Azriel often used this day to mourn. And to hope. Each year, he would wish upon those flying glimmers of starlight. Praying. Hoping. One day, he would find his mate.
In the past, he used the evening to drink and pray and hope that Mor would realize she was his mate. But when she and Emerie confirmed their mating bond two years prior, Azriel simply used this evening to wish upon the stars for someone of his very own.
This year was not any different, until two months before when a secret Illyrian camp was raided and a young woman was found, wingless. She was battered and bruised, terrified of any male who came near her. Cassian had brought her back to the House of Wind with Feyre’s help, to give her a place to recover and rest.
Over the coming weeks, she revealed to Mor and Amren that her name was Y/N, and that she had been sold to the foul Illyrians at a high price to help support her family. She was used for work, cleaning and cooking, and kept in a small room. She revealed her wings were taken after a visit where Rhysand and Cassian required Devlon to start training all Illyrian females. As she told the story, even Amren shed a tear.
Cassian and Azriel were introduced to Y/N, along with Nesta, to help train her. Even without wings, Feyre believed it would do her much good to know how to protect herself. And Y/N vowed she would never again let someone lay hands on her unless she asked. Over the weeks, Cassian and Azriel coached from the sidelines as Nesta and Mor demonstrated and helped, since Y/N still feared the males being too close. Each day she grew a little stronger, and became more confident. It became evident just how much the training was helping her mentally when she agreed to come out for a night at Rita’s with the Inner Circle. Much to Morrigan’s delight, as she would finally have a friend to dance with who wouldn’t make inappropriate comments like Cass.
Azriel couldn’t help but watch from across the bar as Mor and Y/N jumped and spun, without a care in the world. However, he became alarmed as he noticed two dark males approaching her from behind. Each one reached to grab her arms, and he growled as he flew from his chair. He pushed the men back, scooping Y/N into his arms and winnowing both her and Mor to the back of the bar where he knew no one would be. When he put her down, Y/N stared at him breathlessly. She couldn’t believe it, but when he came out of nowhere to rescue them, she hadn’t felt fear. In fact, she felt a strange pull in her stomach. Deep, aching. Longing. Like, she had known him before, in another time perhaps.
The mating bond.
It caused her to step back as it snapped into place.
But Azriel didn’t seem to notice a thing.
“Are you alright?” He asked, gently brushing a hand to her elbow as she stood, star struck.
“Yes. I’m fine….thank you.” She replied after a few awkward seconds.
Mor gave her a puzzling look, “Uh…okay you two let’s go home. Az…”
He grabbed their hands and winnowed them back to their home.
That night, Y/N sat alone in her room, feeling a pull towards the shadowsinger’s room. She knew she should probably stay, but she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she went. Her curiosity got the best of her, and all of a sudden she was stood outside his bedroom. One hand ready to knock, but unsure of what she would say. She stood there nervously until the door cracked open, and Azriel popped his head out into the hall. He was only wearing some trousers, his hair disheveled from the slumber he’d just awoken from.
“ Y/N. Is there…something wrong?” He asked nervously.
“I…I…” Y/N scrambled for a reason to be in front of his door, “I sometimes have nightmares. I can’t fall asleep because I’m afraid of having a terrible dream.”
“Oh. I see.” Azriel said.
Y/N stood there, unsure of what to do next, “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sor-“
But before she could finish her thought, he grabbed her wrist gently and brought her inside.
“You can stay for a little while if you’d like,” Azriel started, “I have nightmares too. About my hands. And my mother. We can watch out for each other. And I can take you back to your room when you’re ready. You take the bed, I can sleep here.” He gestures to the small couch at the foot of his bed.
“Azriel I don’t want to take your bed.” Y/N stated, feeling guilty about coming in the first place.
“I insist.” Azriel gestured to the bed.
She sat down on the edge, as he laid himself on the couch that was barely big enough for him and his enormous wings. Even with them all tucked in, he nearly spilled out the sides of the couch.
She laid down as well, waiting for slumber to set in, but it didn’t, because she could only focus on the tug from her to him.
Close to an hour had passed, when finally a whisper emerged from the quiet. “Az?” Y/N lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Yes?” Azriel replied timidly.
“Can you…can you come up here?” Y/N asked rather calmly.
Silence filled the room, before the tall and dark Illyrian stood from the couch, slowly setting himself down on the other side of the bed. He lay flat on his back as well, as if trying to avoid touching her at all costs.
She reached across the bed and found his hand, interlocking her fingers in his. She rubbed her thumb along the lines of his scars.
“Thank you. For rescuing me. Maybe I can help rescue you from your nightmares?” Y/N said.
Azriel smiled at the ceiling in the dark, “Perhaps.”
________________________________________
Each of the girls from the Inner Circle had gone to the seamstress weeks prior to the event to have gowns made for the celebration. Each of the girls selected a gown some shade of Night Court black, except for Y/N. Feyre and the rest of the Night Court females found a gorgeous silver silk fabric, embedded with tiny crystals. When held up to the light, the fabric twinkled like a sea of stars.
“ Y/N! Since you are our special guest for the celebration, you should have a dress made from this!” Mor shouted, shoving a pile of the fabric into Y/N’s arms.
Y/N stared, mouth wide open, “I’m not sure, I don’t want to…”
Feyre stopped her by gentle placing a hand on her shoulder. “You are not a burden, and no one will be upset if you outshine every one of us. You deserve to have a night as fabulous as you are after all you’ve endured.”
Y/N smirked and nodded. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll have a dress made from this!”
________________________________________
The males waited, rather impatiently, in the front hall at the bottom of the staircase.
“You all have been getting ready since 10 o’clock this morning, you can’t SERIOUSLY still be primping can you??” Cassian grumbled as he leaned back on the wall.
Morrigan exited her room where they had all been drinking, giggling, and preparing for the evening. “You clearly have no understanding of what getting ready means to females, “ she said as she rolled her eyes at the general.
One by one, each of the girls stepped out. Feyre and Y/N were the last left inside the room. “You look lovely, Y/N. I’m so glad you’ve become one of our best friends.” Feyre gave Y/N a small squeeze. Y/N smiled, still appearing somewhat nervous for this evening.
Feyre studied her face closely, “He will think you are the most magnificent creature in the room tonight,” she whispered with a wink.
All the breath left Y/N’s lungs as she thought of the spymaster.
Mate.
Mate.
Mate.
Her heart pounded as Feyre gave her hand a quick squeeze before heading to the staircase. “Come along, Y/N. Let’s show them what you’ve got.”
________________________________________
His breath caught in the back of his throat at the sight of her at the top of the staircase.
The floor length gown had a deep v down the front, with two sheer straps that wrapped over her shoulders and crossed in the back. The silky fabric flowed as she took each step. She shimmered like starlight, and as the shimmering fabric moved it made it as thought Y/N herself was glowing in the night.
“Holy shit.” Cassian mumbled under his breath. Nesta elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to go into a coughing fit.
As Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs, everyone stopped what they were doing.
“Well, shall we?” Rhysand asked with a playful grin, simultaneously locking arms with his mate and nudging his spymaster brother towards the girl in the sparkling gown.
Azriel and Y/N stood for a moment. Y/N’s eyes remained focused on her feet, and Azriel watched as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. In that moment, when she looked up and locked eyes with him, he felt everything. A rushing of magic, or spirit, or something, coursed through his veins.
“Mate,” he said, so softly that only she could hear.
They remained frozen in time, stood there, taking in one another. As if their souls needed time to catch up on all the time they had been apart.
Azriel extended a hand to her, and their hands intertwined as they left the front hall. As they walked, Azriel leaned in and whispered to his mate, “You know, it might be hard to keep my hands off of you tonight.” Y/N peered up at him through her thick eyelashes. “You are quick to forget, I have not accepted the bond yet,” she replied with a smirk.
“You wound me, my love,” he stated with a look of bewilderment and shock. It took everything in him not to scoop her into his arms and winnow back to his room, to have his way with her right then and there.
________________________________________
They danced most of the night. So much so, that Cassian made several jokes about how he’d never seen his brother dance that much in their entire lives. It didn’t bother Y/N or Azriel one bit.
The couple stopped to sit and watch as the souls began to descend across the sky, traveling to wherever they belong. Azriel couldn’t help but watch his mate as she stared into the sky, absolutely enamored with her.
Y/N could feel the sting of his stare on her cheek. She turned to him, and reached across the table, her hand closed holding an object tightly inside. “I’d like to give you something,” she smiled. Azriel gave her a perplexed look, opening her hands to find a macaron.
He looked at the pastry, then his mate, and back to the pastry. “Are…are you certain?”
“I’ve never been more certain in my life.” Y/N replied confidently.
Azriel forced himself to savor every bite of the macaron, when really he wanted to shove the whole thing into his mouth so he could whisk her away from the party. Once he was finally finished, he stood, gesturing for Y/N to take his hand.
Cassian shouted from across the dance floor, “Hey brother!! Don’t be too loud tonight, SOME of us need our beauty rest!!” Nodding his head towards Rhysand. Feyre smacked him across the back of his head and Rhysand laughed. Azriel let out a low growl, but Y/N placed her hand on his lower back and stood on her tip toes to whisper in his ear.
“Take me home, shadowsinger.”
And they winnowed away into the night, as fast as the spirits had traveled across the midnight sky.
#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader#illyrian#rhys x feyre#high lady feyre#feyre x rhysand#sjmaas#sarah j maas#acomaf#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#acosf#acowar#acotar#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar fandom#shadowsinger#Azriel x fem!#starfall
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If you are still writing 14?
Okay so this one accidentally went from a drabble to an actual fic whoops. The cure is totally inspired by the Rapunzel fairy tale, spoiler alert, where the prince falls in the thorn bushes around the tower and Rapunzel’s tears fall into his eyes, curing him.
14. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”
wc: 4444 which is an awesome number I’m so happy lol
Robbed Blind
Someone botches a spell to steal Jaskier’s artistic vision and he’s cursed with blindness. Thankfully, he falls into the company of Ciri and Lambert. They journey safely to Kaer Morhen, but what could be the cure to his affliction?
-
She had found him, tripping over the strings of destiny, in Drakenborg. He’d been on his way to Oxenfurt when the curse took hold, and he had gone no further. Jaskier was haggard, gaunt, and looked quite worn. His hair lay flat from constant fussing. It was a habit Ciri remembered well from his visits, always combing a nervous hand through his hair before a performance. She had never seen it look so lifeless. He needed a mirror, she thought. She would soon realize that a mirror would serve him no purpose.
He was blind. He startled when she ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. She’d been so relieved to see a friendly face that she’d run right into his arms, nearly knocking him from the stool in the corner of the tavern. Why should he not catch her as he’d always done? He’d been looking directly at her; she thought he’d merely not recognized her beneath the mud and hood.
“Let me go! Who are you? Stop—stop this now or I’ll give you such a wallop, I’ll—!”
“Jaskier!” Ciri cried, shocked. She flinched away from him as he elbowed her roughly against her temple. She rubbed the spot, standing out of reach.
Jaskier straightened up at once. “Is that—? Little cub, is that you?” he asked. He turned his head as if searching for her and reached out a hand, feeling the air. It was nowhere near.
Ciri took his hand. During their long weeks of travel, she refused to let it go again. She became his eyes, and together they started for Oxenfurt and the safety of its halls.
He’d woken up blind one day, he explained. No warning or explanation. The mage had told him what magic was at play. Someone had tried to steal his artistic vision and the enchantment had gone wrong, stealing from him his very sight.
“Is there not a cure?” Ciri asked.
Jaskier shook his head. “The mage said it was a botched spell. There’s no telling what will fix it, only that it must have something to do with artistic vision. The mage suggested it might be cured by the old methods: kisses and the like; gazing upon true beauty.”
He squinted and took her face between his hands. “I’m looking and looking at you as hard as I can, and I remember you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen when you were first born. So what do mages know? Have you become a pox-faced adolescent or scraggly Medusa? Ah,” he chuckled, “but you’d still be a fairytale princess in my eyes if you had the face of a basilisk.”
She laughed and squirmed out of his hands. “You were always very good at Blind Man’s Bluff. Do you remember when we used to play it? Back then, you were always stumbling; you aren’t stumbling as much anymore.”
“I’ve grown used to it, I suppose. But you are a princess—do you suppose a kiss from you might cure me? How are you with frogs? Ever wake a sleeping prince?”
“No, but we may try it. There’s magic in me of a sort, I know. Here, kneel a moment.”
Jaskier knelt on the dry road and closed his eyes, tapping the lid. “Right here. Give it a go,” he said encouragingly. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll practice on a frog and work our way up.”
Ciri kissed both eyes to be sure. “Alright. Open them. Do you see anything?”
She tried not to get her hopes up, watching Jaskier squeeze his eyes tight. He opened them, blinked several times, and gave her a sad smile.
“Not to worry, we’ll find a pond in no time,” he joked, trying to keep the mood light.
-
“Well! I go to find a cat and find a lioness instead. And a songbird. Must be my lucky day.”
Ciri put herself between the stranger and Jaskier, waving a large branch in warning. “Keep away,” she growled. “If you come any closer, I’ll scream.”
The scruffy man put his hands up and grinned. “I’ve heard what sort of screaming runs in your family. Trust me, I would rather not be around for one of them. Heard it knocked pretty boy flat on his back at your mother’s little Surprise party.”
Jaskier put a hand on Ciri’s shoulder. “Wait a moment,” he said. “I know that moniker. Geralt complained of it before.” He was quiet a moment, stirring up a memory. Then, he lit up, asking excitedly, “Did you say you were looking for a cat? A cat witcher, by chance?”
“Why? Find one up a tree?” the stranger pressed.
Jaskier patted Ciri’s shoulder and strode forward, extending a hand. “You must be Lambert! I’ve heard—” his hand buckled against Lambert’s chest, his stride clearing the distance too quickly “—oh, my apologies. I’ve heard about you before. I was hoping to see you under better circumstances if I ever got the chance. Or to see you at all, really. Damnable timing.”
Lambert looked at him, then took his hand. Ciri watched as the understanding settled in, for Jaskier was staring straight at the man’s forehead, a near lucky guess of his eye line. Lambert wore an expression of pity freely, knowing Jaskier could not see it, though his tone was light and cocky as before. “I always wondered what you saw in that sourpuss, following him as long as you did; now I know you didn’t see anything after all,” he joked.
Jaskier snorted. “It’s new.”
“Ah, so you’ve been blinded by love, have you?”
Jaskier flapped his hand until he felt the brush of Ciri’s sleeve at his side, then he tugged her forward and presented her. He cleared his throat, a tad flushed. “May I introduce Her Royal Highness, Princess Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, the Lion Cub of Cintra. Geralt’s child Surprise.”
Ciri tossed her branch aside. “You know Geralt,” she said.
“They’re brothers.”
Lambert sneered. “He got all the looks, Eskel got the talent, but I got the brains.”
“What little there were to be had,” Jaskier added.
“Oh, ho! You’ll fit right in at the keep, talking like that.”
There was a pregnant pause between the three of them. Jaskier nudged Ciri gently forward. “She’ll be safe there. And her wit is more cutting than mine.”
Ciri turned at once to protest. “But what about Ox—”
“And so would you,” Lambert cut in. “A dull knife and a dull wit can be sharpened, and I’d rather keep two knives in my belt than one, whatever their make. Don’t start that maudlin shit with me; you’re coming along.”
Jaskier opened his mouth to protest and Lambert raised a hand. Then, realizing how ineffective that was against one who could not see it, he recovered and smacked the side of Jaskier’s head to shut him up before he started.
“Come on; it’s a long and dull road we have ahead of us, and you’re my entertainment. I want to hear every embarrassing story you can supply. I’ve long run out of blackmail and I’m in need of fresh material. Besides, what better bait for a cat than a twittering bird? If you sing loud enough, we might pick him up along the way.”
-
They were all together in the great hall when at last he came. The figure stood in the doorway, a black dot against the stark white of winter outside. A pair of bags dropped with a thundering bang upon the floor, the sound echoing throughout the room, and the figure bundled up by the fire started awake in fright.
Jaskier patted the blanket beside him, made frantic by his sudden awakening. “Ciri? Ciri!” he called, for she had been asleep next to him what seemed only moments ago.
She paused only a moment to stare at the imposing figure in the light. Something in her shouted, compelling her to go to him. But Jaskier called for her in that voice wrought with panic once more. She flew from the circle of wolves to his side, abandoning her hand of cards, disregarding the man of destiny at the door.
“I’m here,” she said, taking his hands. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always. I’m not going anywhere.” She and the others looked at each other, looked at Geralt, and said not a word.
Jaskier settled and took a deep breath. “I heard something crash. I dreamed—but never mind that.” He sighed, pressing his head to their joined hands. “I’m sorry. I know it’s safe here. I’m just not used to you wandering off just yet.”
“I know.” She stroked his hair gently. It was soft again, though not as silky as before. Lambert and Eskel had drawn him a bath for the first time in a long while, but he had not his customary soaps and oils. He was … less bright, his appearance dulled with his mood.
Vesemir had examined him. Countless hours, the wolves had huddled together in the old library, trying to find a cure for Jaskier’s condition to no avail. As time went by, the reality of his situation weighed on Jaskier. He could no longer read his notebook, nor write his music to be remembered. Ciri read his notes aloud and studied the art so she might transcribe them for him, but it was obvious how he felt.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” he’d said.
And now he gave her that same false smile, the one that failed to meet his eyes. She missed the lines in the corners and wished they might come back. Perhaps they’d flown off with the crows, frightened of the winter snow.
“Go back to your game,” he whispered. “I’ll head up to bed.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” she offered.
He shook his head. “I know the way now. If someone will take me to the stairwell?” he prompted, raising a hand.
Ciri looked at Geralt. There was so little she knew of him—stories and songs … words spared in rumors and stolen from conversations where she lingered unnoticed to listen. What she knew of the wolf and bard she had pieced together with care. For all the tales Jaskier would tell, he would not disparage Geralt before her, and he would not tell the story of the dragon hunt. But dwarves talk. Stories travel and lesser bards would imitate the songs of greater. Witchers collect news of other witchers, and two adults would speak as adults when ale made easy speech. Jaskier had confided in Lambert those tearing words once flung at him upon the mountain. And thus she had put the final piece into place of the great mystery between them.
‘If life could give me one blessing…’
“Who will take him?” she asked. She kept Geralt’s eyes as she rose to her feet. “Who will take him into his hands?”
It was only the barest movement, but she swore she saw the wolf of legend flinch.
Jaskier sat up with a huff. “You make it sound so dramatic. Are we playing at a quest now? Very well, who is my knight errant? The princess has thus decreed a quest is in order: a quest up the perilous tower steps, my-my! Such a task!”
“I should think a white knight is the one suited best for the task,” Vesemir grunted. He shuffled his hand, eyes narrowed at Geralt.
The white knight in question let his cloak fall. He shook the snow from his arms and dusted them slowly, looking at each watching face in turn. His hesitation was clear. When none moved to claim Jaskier, he stepped forward cautiously. Without a word, he took Jaskier’s hand and lifted him to his feet.
Jaskier clapped an arm around his shoulder, hands patting the edge of his long hair. “Ah, thank you, Vesemir,” he said. His hand slipped from Geralt’s armour and he made a face, flicking his wet hand in the air. He prodded the armour curiously. “You’re soaked; I thought you said you’d sent Eskel for the firewood.” He prodded again and bumped against Geralt’s shoulder pad. He pinched it between his fingers, figuring out its shape. He hummed curiously. “What are you wearing? Did you go hunting?”
Geralt stared. Jaskier was not looking at him. Geralt looked at the circle of men by the fireside and there sat Vesemir in silence, watching. He was struck dumb. What … game was this?
“A knight needs a knight’s armour,” Lambert called.
Jaskier laughed. “Oh, of course. Such a soft touch; did you get all dressed up for Ciri? Have I woken in the middle of a game?”
Eskel tossed a card in the middle of the circle. “Yes,” he answered, “but we’ve just started on another, different game.”
“Very cold and calculated,” Ciri agreed.
“Cold and calculated. So a snowball fight has become a snowball war, no doubt born of the most complicated strategies. Shame on the lot of you. You ought to let your elders warm themselves before sending them on tasks. You’re young; you’ve got legs,” Jaskier scolded.
“It was his idea,” Eskel replied.
Vesemir nodded, keeping silent as the game unravelled.
Jaskier looped his arm through Geralt’s and stood straight and tall in an affected manner. “Come, my good knight,” he said, “and let us bid good night to these slacking youths.”
He started to walk in the general direction of the stair, Geralt turning them with truer aim. Geralt looked over his shoulder at the others, frowning. This was not the sort of confrontation he expected when next he saw Jaskier. If he ever saw him. And here was his child Surprise in their midst without a word of greeting or explanation, and the bard, the two of them together and settled within the walls of the keep.
It was too perplexing for him to puzzle out. And Jaskier was acting strangely. Where were his speeches? Geralt had expected him to argue on sight, or else to pretend all was right and greet him, “Geralt! How good to see you,” or, “Fancy meeting you here,” and play off the mountain like it never happened. Or at the very least to ignore him. But to call him Vesemir and take to his arm? What joke was he playing at?
The answer came as Jaskier dodged the first step and nearly fumbled upon the stair. He clung to Geralt’s arm with a cry and his other hand shot out to grope the wall. He flailed for it, feeling his way from the step outward, then sliding his hand up the side of it. He turned his head, looked at Geralt and laughed. “I’m still not used to these uneven steps,” he said. “Give me time and I’ll be able to find my way around unassisted. By next week, I’ll be able to navigate every pool in the hot springs, then you four will never see me fully dressed again!”
Geralt raised a hand to Jaskier’s face. He rested a thumb just beneath his eye. They were as blue as ever, nothing seemed amiss, and yet …
Jaskier’s smile weakened. He closed his eyes and pushed the hand away. “I know the three of you are working hard to find a cure. I know the jokes fall flat. But I must make them. If I don’t … Vesemir, if I can’t make light of it, the darkness I see will be all I have left.”
He turned toward the stair again, hand firm on Geralt’s arm, the other on the wall. “Right then. Up we go. Just one at a time,” he said. He stepped tentatively forwards, prodding his foot before him until he nudged the base of the first step. “Got it. First is always hardest, isn’t it?”
They carried on. Two steps, three, one after the other slowly. They were uneven by design: a final defense against those who would try to invade their stronghold. The spiral stair favored those who walked it every day, gave advantage to the men who would be at the top, swinging their swords to fight back those who would dare trespass unwitting. It was difficult enough for any stranger with sight. With Jaskier, it was a quest in itself.
Midway up, Geralt thought to carry him. They were going so slowly; it would have been easiest that way. He nearly offered, but stopped. If he spoke, Jaskier would know him. He began to reach an arm out to simply lift him, but Jaskier fumbled once more, his knee hitting the step with a mumbled curse. And Geralt heard him muttering through his teeth as he crouched upon the stair.
“I will learn,” he hissed. “This will not stop me. I refuse to be a burden to anyone. Never again.” He touched his forehead to the step and Geralt put a hand to his back. He was trembling.
When Jaskier rose again, he did not take Geralt’s arm. He reached out and took hold of the wall on either side, arms stretched wide to hold himself up. He proceeded to climb the stair alone. When Geralt reached out to help, Jaskier waved him away.
“No,” he whispered. “We’re nearly at the top. Just let me do this much. Please.”
And Geralt let his hand fall away.
Jaskier reached the landing with a powerful stomp, expecting a final step. He breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the right wall. Geralt followed behind and patted his shoulder. Small congratulations. From there, Jaskier walked down the corridor, tapping when he came upon a wooden door. He passed three, tapped each with his knuckles, counting. When he reached the forth door, he opened it. In this space, he walked with ease away from the wall. He flopped confidently upon the bed and rested a moment as one does after a long journey.
He shucked off his doublet and loosened the laces of his boots. He set these aside at the very foot of the bed where they might easily be found again. He undid the back lace of his trousers, paused, and inclined his head toward the door.
“Are you still there, Vesemir?” he asked.
Geralt did not know how to respond. He stood fixed in the doorway, but dropped his eyes to his feet modestly. After a moment’s wait, Jaskier finished undressing and climbed beneath the heavy furs. A memory stirred—that was not the final task of the evening. What was the last of their routine each night? What was left undone that made this finality seem so abrupt? Geralt realized it in the darkness of the room. He had no candle to blow out.
The truth struck Geralt sharp as a blade to his gut. He stole through the door, walking quietly toward the bed. He sat on the edge, the furs rumpled beneath him, and listened to Jaskier’s breathing. He was not yet asleep—would never be, so soon—but he did not stir.
Geralt took his hand gently.
Jaskier squeezed it back.
“I only wish that had not been the last I’d seen of him,” Jaskier whispered. “I try to remember his smile now. For all my poetry, I can’t remember it clearly. His smiles were so rare, but I don’t suppose you need me to tell you. Or perhaps you do. I don’t know if he smiled here; I know nothing his life in this place. Were you so fortunate that they were commonplace?”
Silent footsteps creeped up the stair. Ciri had waited long enough to follow. Geralt heard no sign of her under the ringing words of Jaskier’s speech. Though he spoke no louder than the breath of the wind, every last syllable echoed like a clap of thunder in his ears.
Jaskier slipped his hand free and turned on his pillow, hugging it close. “I wish I might at least see Ciri now, know how she’s grown. They change so quickly at that age. Does she look like her mother? Does she look like him? Destiny makes strange things of those it touches. She was beginning to look like him, I once thought.”
She saw him well enough, looking through the open door. She crouched behind the wall, listening as she always did in secret, for the things he would not burden her with.
“I always did wonder what you looked like. Geralt spoke once to me of his brothers, his mentor. You’re still stories to me in ways. I know you have long hair, grey with age. I know Lambert is shorn, Eskel is shaggy. I know your voices, your height, and a hundred other things. But do you share his eyes? What color is the armour you wear? How does the sun set over the mountainside? The carpets before the hearth—what pattern is woven there? What thousands of stories do you keep in that library? What do the monsters look like illustrated in the great bestiary?”
He buried his face in his pillow. His voice was muffled, but both Geralt and Ciri could hear the husk in it. “I won’t feel sorry for myself. It doesn’t mean anything—just idle curiosity. It doesn’t matter how the carpet is woven or if you wear brown shirts or red. I’ve seen a lifetime of sunrises and sunsets and stars. I don’t want them!” he barked. He writhed on the bed, his face falling from the pillow, stained with tears. “I don’t! I never needed them, not one! I don’t care—I don’t! None of them are important!”
Geralt rushed forward and took Jaskier in his arms. Jaskier struggled, beating at his chest, and refused to be coddled. “No!” he wailed. “Don’t comfort me, I don’t need it! I don’t want it! I will not be pitied!” But for his hard words, he clung to Geralt’s armour, sobbing against his shoulder. “It’s unnecessary. It’s just a bunch of poetry. Useless poetry and songs.”
Jaskier pulled away, Geralt’s hands trailing from his back to his shoulders as he sat up. Geralt held him there before he could retreat more. Before he could think twice of it, Geralt leaned in, his hands cupping Jaskier’s face on either side.
“Vese—”
Something warm and wet fell onto Jaskier’s lashes. He heard a shaky breath, felt the warmth of it upon his face. Another hot tear fell into his other eye and he blinked in surprise, for it was not his own. He sat perfectly still in shock, blinking the falling tears away.
“They were never useless,” Geralt said. “They were always important—all of them.”
Jaskier twitched, raising his head by instinct up to look at the man who held him now. “You were—!”
“I’m sorry. For not speaking before. For … not speaking then. After. And for saying what I did that day.” He wiped the tears beneath Jaskier’s eyes away, an expression of pain twisting his hollowed features. “If I’d not sent you away—I don’t know what’s become of you, but I might have—I could have tried to prevent it. You would still have your sight.”
Jaskier covered Geralt’s hands. “No, Geralt. This is none of your doing. You can’t—”
A loud bump from the hall startled him. Jaskier turned at once to look.
“Ciri,” he breathed.
Ciri had a finger to her mouth and was glaring up at a tall man. They both cowed back, being caught. Jaskier looked between them as Geralt’s hands slipped away. He stood, walking toward them. He looked at Ciri, gaping, their eyes perfectly aligned. Jaskier fell to his knees before her and took her hands without fumbling.
“Ciri,” he said. “You’re so … my good gods, you’ve grown.”
All were still as he reached out, touching her face as though she were made of glass. He smoothed her hair away, taking all of her in. He laughed, new tears falling as he pulled her close and crushed her in his arms. “You’re so beautiful!” he cried. He stroked her hair, cradling her against him as tight as he dared. “And you!” He looked up at the witcher in the hall, reaching out to him and taking his hand. “Which one are you? Say something now, quickly. Let me hear your voice and know you.”
“Eskel,” he answered. And then Jaskier was up on his feet, pulling him into another embrace.
“Eskel!” Jaskier cheered. “Eskel, you look even more heroic than I ever imagined! Oh, let me look at you. Oh, oh! Lambert! Vesemir! Where are you, come forward!”
He dashed into the hall, only to turn on his heel for another look at Eskel, for just one more eyeful of Ciri. Over her shoulder, he saw Geralt sitting there on the bed, his yellow eyes wide, the tears still clinging to his chin.
“Oh,” Jaskier whispered. “Oh, I see. I see.”
He walked forward, gliding a hand beneath Geralt’s jaw. He touched his eyes with his other hand. Carefully, he wiped the last of Geralt’s tears away. It dangled, a little drop at the tip of his finger and he brought it close. He closed his hands around it, cradled them to his chest.
Geralt stood slowly before him. And he smiled.
Ciri tugged at Jaskier’s shirt, her head turned away politely. She cleared her throat and said, “Jaskier? Lambert and Vesemir are on their way up. And you’re … well, you’re not at your most presentable.”
Eskel averted his eyes, his back turned to the scene, however touching. “You might want to get a bit more dressed. And quickly,” he added, for Jaskier was standing in his smallclothes.
Jaskier snorted. “All of you, turn away for decency’s sake! We’re having a moment, here.”
“And what about me?” Geralt asked. “Shall I look away?”
It was nothing but empty jest and Jaskier smiled. “No,” he replied. “No, you’re looking where you’re needed. But I suppose to be fair …”
He clapped a hand over Geralt’s eyes. He leaned forward, whispering against Geralt’s lips. “There. Now no one can see. No one … but me.”
There were no witnesses to that first kiss. It was a secret Jaskier kept for himself.
However, the second, third, and forth had quite a startled audience, as Geralt and Jaskier both fell deaf to the clatter of footsteps in the hall. Ciri took it upon herself to usher the others from the room, explaining on the way. After all, with the curse lifted, she no longer needed to be Jaskier’s eyes. His mouth, however, was currently occupied.
-
Send me a drabble prompt!
#my fic#drabbles#witcher#the witcher#geraskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier#cirilla fiona elen riannon#lambert#eskel#vesemir#I'd tag aiden but he's really only mentioned in passing#ew I came back to look at this and the scene breaks did not transfer over#fixed it now
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Dio - Stolen Dance
For immersion, listen to the Dark Waltz Music - Vampire masquerade collection on youtube. Oh boy
Especially 'Tonight Ve' Dance' that shit hits the spot for this fanfic. Trust me.
"Would you honor me with a dance, Y/N?"
'Hell no', was what you craved to answer to this charming yet cruel man. Dancing with him meant selling your very soul. You were about to dance with the Devil.
But you had no choice.
You tried to run away from him, from his toxicity, from his poison, but he always managed to get you back and trap you in his web. And now he offered his warm, destructive hand for a dance, just a single dance with him.
And you had no choice.
You could not refuse. You had no right to. It was oh-so reluctantly that you had put your trembling, cold hand over his possessive one. He pulled you towards him as the music played in the luxurious ballroom.
He laid his large hand around your corseted waist, pulling you to him and bringing your bodies a little too close for your own comfort. Way too close for a gentleman to conventionally be from a lady.
But he didn't seem to care one bit as your heart pounded heavily in your chest. He could probably feel it from this proximity. And he most definitely drowned himself in it.
You hesitantly, and regrettably put one hand over his broad shoulder in what you could only call a ghostly touch. You barely wanted to touch him and potentially show him a form of validation from his wrongdoings.
He engulfed your other hand in his own, relishing in the adorable yet terrifying size difference. If he wanted, he could just close his entire hand on yours and claim it as his. Just how he could easily close the distance between you and claim you just the same.
People were around. The ladies and gentlemen of the World. High class society, partying mondanely through the night. Couples dancing, businessmen meeting, Madames chatting.
Oh but in these decorated mansions, the families yearned to see newfound lovers, for what a sight it was.
Some were watching you in earnest and maybe even admiration, glad to see how the charming, handsome Dio Brando of the Joestar Estate was gracefully swaying in rhythm with the gentle, beautiful Y/N L/N, daughter of the Lord L/N.
Your face felt warm, burning almost and it was not a comfortable feeling. Maybe it was the close proximity between him and you, maybe it was all the unnecessary attention you were receiving, putting pressure and forcing shyness upon you.
Maybe it was the rising anxiety that built viciously within you and made yout heart pump violently in your chest, or maybe it was the pure hatred you felt towards the blonde man holding you captive within this very dance.
It didn't matter what it was, it felt horrible, suffocating. You could barely breathe, the room was spinning.
You were always taught to look at your partner in the eyes when dancing, but now your partner wasn't just anyone. It was Dio Brando. There was no way you could look up at his soul-piercing amber, no, crimson red eyes. Like gems of blood.
If you looked at them, if you even glanced at them...
"You are quite tense, dear." He released your hand briefly to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, letting cool air hitting your now more exposed cheek and temple. "Relax and follow my lead."
You wanted to scoff at his words. How could you relax when your only wish at the moment was to run away from him? Your family was nowhere to be seen, Jonathan was nowhere to be seen. No one was there and no one would help you.
"You stole this dance, Dio," You growled quietly, not wanting to gather even more attention to yourself. "But it will be the last thing that you'll steal from me. Heed my words."
You finally met his eyes to grace him with a glare and he only looked down on you with mockery and a hint of fondness. As if your anger was endearing to him. He hummed in amusement.
"Hmmm...? Do I take it that everything else will be graciously given to me...?"
Before you could even gasp at his scandalous assumptions, you missed a step and fell forward, right against his solid chest. He of course didn't waste a second in wrapping his strong arms around your small form.
You could hear the other guests whispering and chuckling, probably drinking in the sight and preaching how cute you both were. The beautiful Y/N L/N clumsily falling into the arms of the very handsome Dio Brando.
Like a princess and her prince, right from a romance story. It was really fresh to witness and people just couldn't wait to see you both engaged, you looked so perfect together. After all, in this mondane society, it was all about looks.
If only they knew the truth.
You tried to push yourself off of him as you laid your palms flat on his chest, but he held you there firmly. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest and the blonde leaned down to whisper in your ear.
"Let us go somewhere more private darling. I am tired of those curious eyes."
You felt like you were about to faint and really wanted to get out of that busy room, but surely not with Dio. As you didn't have much of a say in this, you let him guide you away, to one of the many chambers in the mansion.
He opened the door wide for you and you entered the empty, cold room bathing in darkness, not sparing him a single glance and went straight ahead to the large windows that lead to a beautifully decorated balcony.
You stayed inside though, as Dio closed the door behind him and went on his way to light a gas lamp that was laid on a night stand.
You gently pushed the silky curtains aside to glance at the moon outside. You stared at her magnificent silver light, completely forgetting where you were and that Dio was still in this very room.
You sighed, comforted by the moonlight. The moon was full on this cold night, it was the end of the year and it felt like the nocturnal satellite decided to show off all of her magic tonight.
Sometimes, you envied those legendary creatures who lived solely by the moonlight. Fantastical beings who could see the moon through all her phases and for as long as they lived. Werewolves, Vampires...
"...Beautiful, isn't it?"
You gasped, startled by his sudden deep voice so close to your ear. You swiftly turned around and glared at him, offended that his appearance tore you off your pleasant rêverie.
"Oh, please do continue. The moon reflects so deliciously on your skin, it is beyond mezmerizing."
"Yo-... you're losing yourself again, Dio!" You tried to sound strong and composed, but you couldn't help the slight whimper from escaping your throat.
"Maybe..." He lifted his large arm next to your head to fully open the curtain behind you, the sudden position flustering you as you felt trapped yet again.
You looked down as you contemplated fleeing. How many attempts was it now? You stopped counting after the 20th, but you wanted to flee again.
Not bearing the sight of his broad chest in front of you, you turned slightly back to the window and side-glanced at the beautiful garden.
There was a large maze in there. The thought of maybe trying to lose Dio there was very appealing. It turned your once melancholic and lonely expression into a softer, more relaxed one.
The moonlit maze alone filling your heart with an ounce of hope, the ghost of a smile reached your lips and eyes.
"What a sweet expression you are sporting, my love." The blond devil put his large hand on your cheek and turned your head to face him as he purred. "Although I delect myself more from your despaired expression."
Disgusting. This man was disgusting. You put a hand over his large wrist as a sign to tell him to let go of you, which he patently ignored.
He leaned forward, hovering dangerously over your face as he lifted your chin up, a soft smirk stretching his lips.
"Now tell me... what could my dove possibly be thinking about to make her look so beautifully blithe?"
You looked downwards to the red brooch on his tie, the ornament suddenly more distracting than his dominating burning gaze on you.
"I was thinking of getting away from you. It gets me going." You spoke the unfiltered truth with bitter sugar dripping from your voice.
The man before you froze upon hearing those words. Were you challenging him? Him?! The Dio Brando?
You drove him so crazy. Oh you drove him to such unfathomable frustration. His blood was boiling and pumping ferociously in his veins.
His entire body cringed, his fists balling tightly. He ground his teeth as his eyes widened in pure rage. Or was it rage? No it was deeper, more twisted than that.
It was lust.
He needed to gather all his self-control to prevent himself from breaking something or rather someone right this instant.
Yes... He could break you. Oh and it would be so easy and so satisfying, too. Nothing could quench his thirst more than destroying every inch of you at that moment.
You were such a nasty pest, you were so terribly problematic, no wonder he was so infatuated with you. So obssessed with you.
You were bad, maybe as bad as him. You pushed on all his buttons like no one ever did and yet, you played the cute little perfect girl in front of everyone else.
You made him so insane, so mad. He wanted you all to himself. He yearned for you to get your revenge on him, to be infuriated with him. He craved you right here, right now. He loved that you hated him.
Swiftly, he pressed his weight against you and pushed your body flush against the window as you gasped in surprise, barely able to even react at the forceful contact.
He was quick to catch your wrist and pin it next to your head as you tried desperately to push him away, your other hand uselessly resting on his much stronger arm.
You tried to squirm away, but his body meddled with yours in an emprisonning cage. You couldn't hide your panicked pants anymore.
"You damn woman..." He breathed in a shaky hiss right next to your heating ear, his tone way darker now and his eyes half-lidded. "Do you even realize what you are doing to me?" He spat with venom but also with dripping excitement. "You are in deep trouble, darling."
He nuzzled his face in your exposed neck, drenching himself in your sweet scent and you shuddered, his hot breath on your skin making the hair at the back of your neck stand.
Your heart hammered alarmingly inside your chest as his malicious hold triggered your Fight or Flight response. This was bad. Real bad. You struggled against his grip, writhing and pushing him.
But struggling against him was futile, useless. So useless, useless, useless...
"I hate you, Dio Brando. There's not a single piece of you that is remotely redeemable!" You growled in his ears through exhausted pants. "Hear me when I say this, I despise every inch of your disgraceful being, Dio-ugh...! I hate you with all my might...!!"
"Yes!" He grunted hungrily as he put his free hand around your hips, leaving no space between your body and his, feeling all of yourself against him. "That's it, that's what I want to hear! One more time... Scream it."
"You disgusting bastard... You have no shame..." You squeezed your eyes shut, you refused to cry. Never for him. He didn't deserve it.
"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... Please." He was crazed, Dio lost himself, yet again. "Sweet Y/N, let me make you mine... Be mine... I know you want this..."
Just like that, the man above you craddled your body like his most prized possession, teasing the pulsing point of your neck with his lips, tongue and teeth. He clutched your hips and wrist in a bruising grip and you knew there was nothing you could do.
"I'm going to ravish you, destroy you..."
And so he did.
#jojo's bizarre adventure#jojo#jjba#writing#jojo no kimyou na bouken#dio#dio brando#dio x reader#dio brando x reader#jojo part 1#part 1#phantom blood#x reader#reader insert#dubcon/noncon
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can you do a small blurb or imagine where the reader is all bubbly and talkative and Harry finds her annoying. reader always wanted to befriend Harry but Harry one day snaps at her and she stops her usual jokes and playful behavior around him. Harry starts missing her and it's all fluff. pweaseee
i want to be friends with h :’)
:
“...and I just thought this will look the best on me because I read this thing where you should try on gold or silver jewellery in order to tell if cold or warm tones look better,” she takes a sip of her champagne. “Honestly, I can’t really see this on myself, so I just thought you could do nothing wrong with beige, right?” She chuckles and watches her nephew, freshly turned four, run around the backyard with a horde of other little humans, screeching and giggling.
It’s the first time she saw him again after a long time. Leo, the birthday boy, told her during all the birthday preparations that he wanted Harry to be there. She knows because he explicitly said he “wants uncle H to do that funny hand game they always play” and she can’t lie and say it didn’t hurt her heart a bit. Harry and her got along great, she’d say, her older brother Ezra introduced them two at a get together in his apartment as he graduated college. YN liked having him in their friend group. With his charm and humour he managed to have her wanted to befriend him immediately.
That was until he stopped seeing his friends and only spent time with his new girlfriend. Ezra told her they met at some gala and it immediately sparked between them. His words, not hers. And YN would lie if she’d say she wasn’t one tiny bit jealous, because of course she was. He’s a good friend but to expierence him dropping his friends just like that when he meets someone is worse than just letting it die down.
So here she is, bubbly with excitement as she finally catches up with him, but worry in her as Ezra told her in passing that they recently broke it off. Harry was single. And thats stings. They break up and he suddenly has time for them again? Suddenly, he isn’t too good for them anymore?
“YN, I need to interrupt right here. Hold your thought. I need a wee, alright?” His voice breaks her story from the time she made a leash for her dog herself.
Her brows shoot up, slowly nodding. “Uh...yes. Yes, of course.”
Harry sends a pressed smile before he hurries through the crowd to the bathroom. Locking the door, he leans his hands on the sink, watching himself in the mirror.
It’s hell.
He thought it would be a nice distraction to see all his friends and Leo again. Keep his minds off the obvious things. But they bombarded him with happiness and questions and stories and Harry feels like he is going to explode.
Of course he knows what a shitty friend he was. For fucks sake, he just cut them off as he fell stupidly in love. Yes, it’s fucking wrong of him to appear out of nowhere and get in contact again, after not even explaining what happened. Yes, they are the fucking best for forgiving him and acting normal. But yes, it’s too much to have them all babbling in his ear like nothing happened, too. Having YN talk his ear off. He likes her. Harry finds her cute as fuck. With her pretty little smile that seems to always adorn her face and the sparkly eyes that look at you as if you’d hung the moon. But she even talks not little.
A series of knocks snap him out of his thoughts. “Harry? I know you needed a wee, but Leo is asking for you,” she chuckles, “I’d say you shouldn’t keep the birthday boy waiting.”
A scowl sets itself deep in his features as he freshens up with splashing water in his face and a heavy sigh.
“Remember Leo’s last birthday? He had so much fun with the frosting of the cake you brought.” A silence followed. “You know... he really missed you. I mean— we all did, but I think he kinda suffered—”
The door swings open, sudden and fast, and Harry stands under the frame of the door. His brows are set deep and his nostrils fluttering almost dangerous. “Let’s not talk about it.” Harry tries to contain himself and keep calm.
Confusion washes over her face before she snaps out of it, shaking her head at herself. “Sorry, I was just saying that it was a hard time for us as—”
“I said to let it go, didn’t I?” His body squeezes around hers, stepping out of the bathroom and walking to the kitchen with a quick step.
YN struggles to follow, but does nonetheless. “Sorry. Again.” She watches as he pours himself another drink, downing it in one swing as he glances at her over the rim of the cup as she smiles at him.
By now he just wants to get out of there as soon as possible.
“I read something recently. It was funny because it said—”
“My god, YN!” He loosens it. “Do you ever stop talking? Don’t you have something better to do or be? Make sure the kids are save?”
“I-I don’t know... What do you—”
He rolls his eyes. “Just go to someone else and bore them with the things you read. Pleae spare me.”
By any means, she is not a crybaby, but hearing the person you admire, even look up to, tell you you are just an annoyance with everything you do is bad. Her heart practically breaks open as his restless eyes stare her down. She feels small. Tiny even. And therefore she can’t help the tears that gather along the lower lashes. She tries to blink them away and quickly swallows the clump in her throat that starts to hurt. She rasps an “okay” at him and disappears out of there. Away from the kitchen. Away from him.
Leaving Harry alone.
He curses himself. A hand comes up to tug at his hair in frustration. Now he’s the arsehole. Great.
But someone notices it. Whatever it is. Perhaps it’s how YN sat in the corner of the room while everyone snuggled together on the huge couch to watch Leo’s favourite movie. Perhaps how Harry glanced her direction every few seconds. Or perhaps how she didn’t talk to anyone anymore that evening. But perhaps how everyone felt the tension like thick cheese one pizza. At least that’s what Harry thought as he scooped the big piece of pizza into him. He sadly made it a habit to eat in frustration.
So now she has a pouty, little four year old sitting in her lap. “But I jus’ don’t understand!” His tiny hands grasp her cheeks. “Did I do something?”
“No, love, you didn’t do anything. I just feel like this sometimes.” Her hands run through his silky hair. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“It’s Uncle H, isn’t it?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’m sure, because he didn’t play that hand game with me and you didn’t tell me one of your granny jokes!”
“Hey! They are not ‘granny jokes’!” YN playfully pinches his cheeks.
“So it is Uncle H? What did he do? Did he pull your hair? Because mummy always says I should apologize if I did.”
A sudden burst of love runs through her for this sweet boy. But it drops as she sees Harry entering the room behind the boy and watches their interaction. “No, he didn’t pull my hair. Everything’s fine.”
“Did he steal your pencil?! Oh no!” He gasps.
Harry steps beside them, ruffling his hand through his hair, making it a mess. “I did steal her pencil. You think I should apologize, mate?”
Leo squirms in her lap and holds his arms up at Harry. So he lens downs and easily sets him on the side of his hip. “Of course! If not, I have to get mummy to scold you!”
Harry breathes a chuckle, eyes staying on YN as she avoids meeting his eyes. “Uhmm...”
He notices the hesitation. “Dearest YN,” Leo cups his hands around his mouth and whispers in his ear.
Her head shoots up to them. Harry still stares down at her as the corner of his lips kink up. “Dearest YN.”
“I’m sorry for stealing your pencil.” He repeats Leo’s words, eyes crinkling with the smile he wears. “I’m well aware that you probably like the pencil with how sad you looked today.” He pauses as the boy whispers another sentence. “I now know I shouldn’t do it again and I promise t leave you be if you want me to.” But his smile falters when he sees YN’s eyes dropping to the floor again and then back up. This time with a forgiving smile. “But I hope we can still be friends.”
With a friendly smile she stands up and brushes a strand of hair out of her nephew’s eyes. “Leo, baby, would you leave us alone for a sec?”
He frantically nods and scrambles down Harry’s arms, who tries to not let him fall down.
It’s silent when they’re alone. Unspoken things between them creating an uncomfortable silence that isn’t welcomed. So they begin to speak.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“I’m glad you came to me—”
His hands that just were gesturing between them dropped dead to his sides and YN’s teeth catch her bottom lip, staring at his shoes.
A breathy chuckle escapes his lips. “Can I start?” His eyes search hers, trying to find her acceptance and understanding, and in fact receiving a spark of a smile. “Listen, okay? I’m so- so sorry. I don’t even know what happened there. I...,” he trails of, one hand scratching under his chin where a stubble starts to form. “I was stressed these last few days— weeks— and, fuck, I still am, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean that. I love when you talk about random stuff that you read somewhere, because it’s interesting, it’s funny. It’s just your thing, right? And I love that we can talk about absolutely everything. That person in the bathroom, ...that wasn’t me. That was the grumpy, arrogant side of me that left his best friends because of some person, then got his heart broken and couldn’t even swallow his own fucking pride to apologize to them and waited too long and just acted like nothing happened. YN, obviously you don’t have to forgive me, because I understand I’m an arsehole—”
“Okay, it’s enough.”
Harry freezes, brows drawing a deep line. “W-what?”
YN takes a step towards him and envelopes his huge hands in her small ones. He notices they’re warm and soft as her thumb brushes along his knuckles, calming him down. “It’s enough, H. I get it, okay? I’m not stupid. I know what it’s like and I know you. It’s sweet of you to apologize but you had me since Leo helped you,” a grin breaks out on her face. “I can imagine how tough that time was and still is for you, but I’m your friend and friends are there for you no matter what, no? I wouldn’t say it didn’t hurt a tiny bit, because I know I talk a lot. I’m not mad with you. I just want my friend back.”
She whispers the last part and Harry can’t help the layer of tears that gloss over his eyes and the curl in his lips that creates a deep dimple in his cheek— upwards because of happiness and downwards because of all the emotions— so it’s a weird laugh that escapes his throat at the same time a sob rolls through his body. He sets his stare on the floor and tries to will the tears away with a shake of his head, curls flopping, but YN slings her arms tight around his torso and her face squishes against his collarbone, leaving a quick kiss at his throat. Like a warm blanket he gets swallowed whole. “It’s okay to feel weak sometimes. ’M here for you, H.”
And with that in mind, he wraps his long arms around her shoulders, squeezing her some more, and lets himself cry it all out.
:
#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#imagine harry styles#harry styles request#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles blurbs#harry styles reader insert#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#best friend harry#myblurbs
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Runaway Bride
Yandere! Chrollo x Fem! Reader
Part 3
Authors note: Hello everyone! Thank you for being here for the (most likely) final part of the Runaway Bride story!
Tag list: @yanderes-are-the-best @ejeeart @misskuudere-chan @fatherrrora
***
It was a race against time. As the news reported false information, Chrollo and his subordinates continued to search for the Nen user they needed. Meanwhile, Y/n continued to change her appearance, running farther and farther away.
A rough hand slammed against the table, a chewed bullet resting beside it.
Gripping his hair, Uvo screamed in frustration as they had lost another person. It was amazing how many people had such a good sense of smell, yet died the second they smelled Y/n’s belongings.
“How many does that make?”
“I think that was the 19th person. “
“You’re kidding.”
“Uvo, there’s literally bodies behind your chair. “
Kortopi walked in, messy hair hiding his face like usual. He did not say anything, but a curt nod to the two made them stand up and follow him out of the hotel room.
Feitan stood in the hallway, knife in hand.
“Anything new?”
Shalnark shook his head ‘no’ with a sigh.
“The boss isn’t going to like this…”
Scratching his chin, Uvo pondered aloud “Why doesn’t he just take their Nen and use that? Doesn’t he take Nen abilities that he likes?”
“Doesn’t work like that, and Uvo, how come you’re the one coming up with all the ideas?”
‘I’m not sure. All I did was drink a case of beer this morning.”
“What are we gonna tell the boss? It’s already been some time- oh god, what if Y/n, you know- committed-”
“She wouldn’t do that unless it would be fun. It’s not fun when you’re scared.”
“Maybe she’s not scared? Huh, what about then, Uvo?”
“Would you two please shut u-”
“WAIT WAIT WAIT!”
“Hm?”
“Call the boss now, I just figured it out! Ooh, Y/n is smart!”
“No shit Shalnark.”
“Just call Chrollo.”
***
Dark eyes stared back at each other, the only thing separating the pur reflection was the spider web cracks of the glass mirror. Phone ringing, a gloved hand went to pick it it up, pressing the speaker icon.
“Any new-”
“BOSS! IT’S INTOXICATION! EVERYONE’S DYING BECAUSE OF INTOXICATION-”
“Explain Shalnark.”
A deep breath was heard in the other side of the phone, and the younger man began to speak rapidly.
“Okay, so basically, everyone- besides us, or people who have generally been close to Y/n for a while, are either passing out or dropping dead like flies right? It’s her! A part of her Nen- I think. Some sort of precaution since she was always on the move, ya know?”
“How does that help us find her?”
“Well, we just need someone who can sniff her out without any damage- so back to our original idea, we just need to smell her out! We had the wrong scent cause we were tracking her by her stuff, not her!”
Chrollo looked at himself, mouth slightly open. Of course! How had he not seen it before? Hadn’t Y/n mentioned something like that before? Smacking his head, he began to laugh, a wicked smile plastered on his face.
“Oh god, thank you Shalnark, I can do this on my own now- let everyone know to return to the hotel, and clean up the mess. My runaway bride is coming back.”
“Understood.”
Hanging up, the man hurried out of the bathroom, grabbing a black bag, laughing maniacally.
Now all Chrollo had to do was get ready.
***
Sweat dripped down the side of her nose, hitting the countertop. It was to be expected that running from Chrollo of all people would be difficult. Y/n shook her head, refusing to think of why it was a bad idea to run. The bastard had too much control over her already. A hand in her hair, Y/n looked up, having forgotten that she had cut quite a bit off earlier. Eyes on her hair, Y/n inhaled deeply, calming herself as she tried to stop the tears before they could come.
Gray eyes shone like jewels, boring into her own, soft strands of ebony hair framed his face beautifully as he looked down on Y/n, arms around her, a smile on his face.
“You’re so beautiful love, smile for me?”
“Chrollo, I’m nothing special- we both know that.”
“Ah, but you are; to me, you always look like you’ve just fallen from the heavens, just for me!”
A playful chuckle from Chrollo as he blushed. It was a cold night, and the secret visits he would make just for Y/n were treasured. Holding her closer, he moved a stray strand of hair from her face, pecking Y/n’s nose. Ticklish as it was, she let out a giggle.
“Will you stay? At least until I fall asleep?”
“Anything for you love.”
“WHAT THE HELL! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ASSHOLE!”
Y/n hit the table, grabbing her keys. If she was going to dream about the man, it wasn't going to be now.
***
Various parts of red roses lay scattered on the floor thorns, petals, leaves, and if you looked very closely, pollen. Various gifts lined the walls, all wrapped up nicely. Soon, guests would be filling the seats, and Chrollo would once again stand at the altar, and once again he would expect Y/n too walk out those doors oh so bashfully. But this time he would take her hands into his own, tell her how utterly beautiful she looked, and skip the vows- the faster, the better.
Why was he even going through with marriage if he already had Y/n tightly wrapped around his finger, under lock and key? It’s not like they pay taxes, and he never wanted to marry- and Y/n didn’t care for it.
‘Because it’s poetic you fool.’
This whole ordeal, just to add another story to his vast collection? Chrollo let out a laugh; to think that he had wasted precious months for the sake of poetry amused him.
Sliding off one of the silver bands off his ring finger, he set it on the pedestal, messing up his silky black hair.
“Why waste time slicking your hair back if you have such pretty locks?” Y/n looked up, eyes wide as her hands raked through his just washed hair.
“Gets in my face too much. And it gives me a cool vibe when I slick it back.”
Y/n stopped, bursting into laughter as she uncoiled the hair dryer’s wire. Plugging it in, she sat on the couch, grabbing a comb.
“Let me dry it properly- you're gonna get sick!”
“If you insist- there’s no need to though.”
“Sure there is! Now come on, sit here.”
Between her legs, Chrollo hummed in content as the hair dryer blew hot air all around and the comb’s teeth raked through all the little knots.
“I seriously can’t believe you're this pretty, Chrollo. I feel like seeing you like this is illegal!”
“Well, thank you.”
Chrollo leaned back, head hitting the couch cushion. Grabbing Y/n’s thighs, he lifted her legs onto his shoulders, basking in the soft warmth.
Heaving a sigh, Chrollo adjusted his tie, and headed out to retrieve his bride.
***
The T.V. blared as the flashy icon of the station appeared, the host and hostess of the night smiling proudly as they set their papers down on the prop desk.
“It’s 10 o’clock, do you know where your children are?”
“Hello everyone, I’m Raiyah Ourani,”
“And I’m Bobby McOkazawoo.”
“It has now been 4 months since the disappearance of Y/n L/n. In that time authorities have been conducting investigation after investigation, but no new news has yet to be released. However, the Grungingham Ball House assures the people of Yorknew that their organization is completely safe, and for any future customers to not be shy as they have updated the security, granting the safety they desire as well as the fun time they want.”
“Coming up: Are DonaldMc’s really everywhere within 5 miles? Now, a word from our sponsors.”
“NEW! Scrubbing bubbles foam tastic-super mega ultra is THE cleaning solution to all of your dirty needs! Skin safe to use as a lubricant, and a natural cleanser! You can use it on windows, counters, and so much more!”
Y/n turned the T.V. off, rubbing her temples. Looking at the clock on the wall, it was now 0:45 p.m. Who knew so much time would pass by just from a commercial? About to grab her phone, Y/n suddenly froze; her phone was on, a text notification on the screen.
‘Where are you, darling?’
A hand on her mouth, she quickly grabbed her jacket. There was no time, she'd have to leave everything behind now or never. It’d be too risky to go out the door- there could well be innocents or perhaps Chrollo himself.
“Please tell me he sent Uvo…”
After the first escape, she couldn’t possibly go out the window; they’d expect that. The door, or the window?
She looked around the room: too big to go into the vents, too risky to go out the window or door. So how do you escape?
Another ping from the phone, but Y/n didn’t dare look at it. Paranoid, she steadied her breathing; can’t have them sniff her out too easily.
But…
If Chrollo wasn’t at the door, then she could use her Nen...everyone would either die or pass out, but it would be a better fate then having to deal with Chrollo’s or any of the spider’s blood lust.
A deep breath, she released her ability, and opened the door, running as fast as she could, not bothering to see who would have been near the door. She could hear laughter, crunches, dancing feet- all innocents, but there had to be someone, anyone. There was no way Chrollo wouldn’t have sent someone.
‘It’s like last time…’
Pulling her hoodie over her face, she scanned the crowd before turning around. About to scream, she covered her mouth, looking up at the man who she had bumped into.
Chrollo smiled kindly.
“Nice hair. Where have you been?”
"Chrollo, please n-"
With a flick of his wrist, he had knocked his former fiance unconscious, putting her on his back as if she had just fallen asleep- not like the locals would know. It wouldn’t matter anyways.
He had gotten his runaway bride back, and this time, he would have his wedding and poem complete.
#yandere chrollo#meena#x reader#yandere#yandere hxh#hxh x reader#fem reader#hxh chrollo#chrollo x reader#chrollo#hxh#fanfiction
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D*ck-N-Out
Taehyung x reader | 18+ | oneshot | fast food worker au | smut | fluff | swearing
Lovely banner maker: @chillingtae
Lovely beta: @jinned
Word count: 10k
Sometimes you never know how much you’re craving something until you get that first taste, and you’re tasting plenty in the back of your local In-N-Out restaurant
Fast F*cking Food Masterlist
You pull into your parent’s driveway, their red brick and blackish gray shingles looking like it did when you left for college two years ago. It’s not big compared to the other houses, but when you first moved in at the age of thirteen, it was the biggest house you’ve ever lived in. Now, it’s just a home that contains so many memories, you hope your parents never move.
Turning off the ignition, you gather your bag and phone before exiting your car. The second you step out you can hear your mom’s high pitch cheers as you turn to watch her run down the steps and towards you with arms wide open. She’s smiling wide and happily as she brings you into the tightest hug you’ve ever been in.
“My baby’s home,” she cries, swaying the two of you side to side.
You let out a choked laugh as you pat her back. “Hi, Mom.”
She separates from you, cupping your cheeks as she plants your face full of kisses. “I’ve missed you so much,” she says.
“I’ve missed you, too,” you tell her, relieved she finally let you go long enough for your dad to bring you into a warm hug that isn’t tight like your mom’s. “Hi, Dad.”
He places a kiss at the top of your head as he mumbles, “Hi, sweetie.” As the two of you break your hug, he adds, "Let's get your bags." You watch him as he goes to the back of your trunk and opens it, pulling out your large suitcase and two smaller bags. You go to help him, but your mom is eager to take you inside and talk your ear off about everything you've already heard over the phone.
"How was your drive? Did you eat breakfast already? Lunch? I heard Theo came back into town as well. Did you see him along the way?" she pries, leading you into the living room and into the spacious kitchen where she plants you on the wooden chair at the table. She gets to work on getting you something to drink and most likely a snack.
Theo. One of the boys from high school you know, but more importantly, he’s the son of your mom’s best friend whom she has known for years. Your mom always wanted you and Theo to get together. She consistently tried her best to get you to go on dates together when they would come over for dinner, or the three of you would be over at their place. Even Mrs. Bonet tried her best a few times because she absolutely adored you. The funny thing is, the two of you did give it a shot at the good ol’ age of fourteen. Clearly the two of you weren't ready to date yet, but with the ideas your moms gave, the two of you couldn't help but see. It didn't work back then, and it won't work now.
"I didn't see him. I haven't seen him since we graduated," you say slightly irritated, looking towards the front door to see your dad place your luggage next to the front door as he closes it and makes his way towards the two of you. He takes a seat across from you as your mom places two glasses of water in front of the both of you.
"Well that's a shame. Especially when the two of you go to the same university," she mumbles, taking a seat next to your dad as she rests her arms on the table. Theo, Theo, Theo—you might as well date him if it’ll mean never having her push you two together so hard. "So, tell me everything," she says with enthusiasm, changing the subject completely and bringing you out of your rant.
By the time you're done telling her the same story she's heard every day, you grab your luggage and make your way towards your old bedroom. You unpack and message a few friends of yours before taking a quick nap. It isn't until you hear a knock at your door that you wake up to the sky turning a pinkish orange. The door opens and your mom's head pops in. "Are you hungry?"
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you give a small nod as you sit up. "Yeah. What did you make?"
"I haven't gone shopping, so I was wondering if you were in the mood for some In-N-Out."
"In-N-Out?" Your hand drops to your lap as you frown in confusion. "That's here?"
The door fully opens as she enters the room with excitement in her eyes. "Yes! They opened it about a month ago, and it's always packed, but it's really good!" She claps her hands with glee. "Would you like that for dinner?"
You can tell she really wants you to have it, and you've heard a lot of people talk about it as they open up restaurants in neighboring cities. So, you nod, climbing out of your bed as you reply, "I'll go get it."
"That's okay, sweetie. You drove for four hours already, you don't need to drive for the rest of the day," she says, as you begin to put on your shoes and grab your wallet.
"It's fine, Mom. I haven't been here for almost a year. I want to see what's changed and where this new fast food place is at." You decide, walking with her out of your room and down the hall towards the front door. "Just send me the address and what you want."
After a few more minutes of back and forth conversations, you finally managed to get on the road and follow the directions to the new restaurant. You take the familiar roads you've taken since you were a kid. Things have upgraded and changed over the past year, but the familiarity of certain stores and spots you’ve hung out at have stayed the same. Down this street you had your first kiss with a boy named Seungi. You remember the two of you sitting at a bench eating ice cream in a somewhat awkward silence. The two of you had nothing to say really, until he broke that silence saying you had leftover ice cream on your lips. Before you could wipe it, he leaned in and kissed you. It was the cutest first kiss. A memory you will never forget.
Little pieces of memories flood your thoughts as you continue down the road until the GPS instructs you to turn right at the upcoming stop light.
In the strip mall, you can see an unfamiliar building nestled at the corner next to a McDonalds. The line for In-N-Out is exactly like your parents explained it to be. Long. You pull into the lot and, with your eyes, follow the line of cars waiting to have their orders taken until you find the back of the line, several stores down. Letting out a sigh, you blast the AC, pull out your phone and begin to reply to your group chat of friends.
[Thursday, August 6th, 6:25pm] Ahyeon: We're meeting up right? We have to! All of us are finally in town!!!
[Thursday, August 6th, 6:26pm] Kim: Yes! There’s a reunion party at Toby’s place. Everyone is going so we should meet up there and see everyone we actually liked in high school. I hope the popular ones look like garbage.
[Thursday, August 7th, 6:28pm] Bean: I’m sooo down. Y/N definitely needs to go! She’s the only single one in this group and needs to find a bf or at least get laid
[Thursday, August 7th, 6:29pm] Lain: Single Y/N needs to get pussy tingled~
You send a message to argue your reason for being single. College is more important to you, and your roommate is failing her classes because she’s always with her boyfriend and skipping classes. You’re not looking to do that.
You agree to meeting up at the party as the line moves ever so slowly. It’s about twenty minutes later of texting the group and defending yourself as much as possible, inching the car forward, that you’re finally at the speaker. The menu is extremely short. Three meal items to choose from—to which they’re basically all the same with an exception of do you want cheese, no cheese, or a double pattie, and a few side items to get. So which one do you want? One, two or three?
"Welcome to Dick-N-Out can I take your order?" the voice says through the speaker.
You blink a few times, registering if the guy on the speaker just said dick. "I'm sorry?"
"Welcome to In-N-Out. Can I take your order?" he repeats.
“Oh. Uh”–you glance at the paper your mom gave you of their orders and read it to him. They have jungle fries? Why is it a secret? Taking quick glances at the menu, you quickly pick your order and let him know you’re done with his three item menu. He repeats it back, tells you the price before you scoot your car forward, being short of reaching the first window due to the car in front of you preventing you from going further. Quickly digging in your wallet for your money, you realize you're a few dollars short and decide on using your card. The car in front of you moves forward and so do you, pulling to a stop at the first window.
You can’t see the man's face as he has his back to you, appearing to be talking with someone in the back before he turns his attention towards you. And you swear you feel like you are going to throw up right then and there. To your surprise, a familiar face opens the small window, a look of boredom written all over his sculpted face, dark brown eyes dull and annoyed to be here. Taehyung. “Twenty-One even,” he says, deep voice silky and sending a familiar warmth throughout your body.
You hand him a card, watching him carefully, but not obviously as you wonder if he remembers you the way you instantly remember him. You’ve known him since middle school, and you’ve been in almost every class with him all through high school–hell you were even his project partner once. But he’s Taehyung. He was the most popular guy in school and always had the girls and guys–everyone swooning over him. You happen to have been one of those people swooning over him. He won’t remember you–you weren’t popular in high school and you’re definitely not his type. Girls like Allison are his type: pretty blonde with that cute smile and bubbly personality. You’re not his type, so of course he won’t remember you. You were just another girl in a sea of others.
“Here you go,” he says, cutting you off from your thoughts. You take the card and thank him, doing your best to not sound dejected from your own comments. “Have a nice night,” he says before closing the window and going back to work at taking another customer’s order.
Yup. Another girl.
After getting your food and drinks, you thank the worker before taking off and heading back to the house. You’re going to have to call your friends tonight to ask them about Taehyung. You could have sworn he went off to some university in New York or something, so why is he working here when his parents are loaded and he has money from working with his dad? So many questions and not enough time to ask on this short ten minute drive.
You're lying in bed after finishing dinner and watching a movie with your parents. You can’t deny that the food was good. You also can’t deny that you’re shocked they don’t put salt on the fries but on the side in little packets for you to put on. In your honest opinion they taste better without it, and there’s a lot they give you.
What you can’t get over is life playing a little game on you within those few minutes of talking with your friends since leaving the drive thru. First they tease you for being single and saying you need to have sex like you haven’t had sex in years–in your defense, it’s only been a year and it’s not eating you up like people say it should. You got busy with school and just don’t have time to find a fling. Then at the speaker you could have sworn you heard him say Dick-N-Out instead of In-N-Out. You weren’t imagining it because you suddenly got in the mood to be dicked down. And then Taehyung, your crush of four plus years is working the drive thru and taking your order. What kind of messed up game is that?
You tried to get a hold of your friends, but they were busy and said they’ll all get together for a call either tomorrow night or the next morning. So, you’ll have to wait to spill the beans as to what happened at In-N-Out today. For now you can just scroll through social media to find out what he’s been up to. Find out if he’s still with Allison or not. God you hope not. She’s nice and everything, but she is the biggest bitch you’ve ever met.
Clicking on the app almost everyone is on, you begin your research. You don’t know his username so you’ll have to go through friends of friends to find him, but who first? You click on Emi’s, her being the most active and social out of the group, she’s bound to be friends with half the school. You scroll through her friend’s list until you find Mason, captain of the soccer team. Well, former captain. He was good friends with the quarterback of the football team. Clicking on him, bits and pieces of memories of him come back. He was super sweet, something you don’t expect when it comes to the quarterback after so many stereotypical movies involving them. Jason Seagull, he called himself–strange name, but people loved it. Continuing, you go further and further into the sea of popular students you know until you find her.
Allison.
There’s no way she’s not friends with Taehyung, so you click on her profile, browsing through her page. There’s photos of her at the beach, some sappy ‘I love my life’ crap for the caption, a few photos of her with her friends you recognize, and very little of her at her university–something she bragged about your final year in school. All because it’s an Ivy League. There’s no photos of her and Taehyung within the past year, so your guess is that they’re not together. You keep scrolling and scrolling until you find a photo that you’ve been looking for but still makes your heart jump.
Taehyung and Allison are at some party, people in the background as he carries her on his back. She has her arms wrapped around his neck loosely, her cheek pressed against his as they both smile widely and looking perfect. He still looks the same now as he did in the photo you're staring at. Chestnut curls falling over his forehead and brushing along the tip of his ears, dark brown eyes always a mystery you wish to uncover, and a boxy grin plastered on his face. You didn't see his smile, but you know it's always there when he's happy.
Reading her post on it, you click on his tagged name, feeling your heart race as it takes you to his page. There's photos of him everywhere; the beach, a cafe, at an art museum and so many more places. You continue to scroll down until you find a photo of him at what looks like his university. So, he's still going to school, and your guess is his school ends earlier than yours. You're nosy for another fifteen minutes until exhaustion kicks in and you're slowly falling into a deep slumber.
It's been over a week since you've been home and you're currently getting ready for the party your friends have been pestering you to go to. You'd prefer to meet them at one of their houses, but they're dedicated to partying together. They want to see everyone from high school and see you at the same time. You really don't have a choice but to agree.
Jumping into your jeans, buttoning and zipping it closed, you do a once over in the mirror. Deciding you look great, you slip on a pair of boots, grab your bag that matches your black top, and head out your bedroom. You head towards the living room where your parents sit on the sofa watching a movie. They look over their shoulder when you say, "Okay. I'll be back later tonight. I might stay at Bean's tonight, but I'll let you guys know later." As you grab your key off the hook you say your goodbyes and head out the door.
Closing the front door and locking it, you can hear a car pull up beside the curb. There's a honk as you turn around to see a familiar dark green car parked in front of your house. All four doors open and your friends pile out of the car cheering as they run to you and bring you into a group hug. You chuckle as you greet your friends, finally separating from them to get a clear view of their faces. Ahyeon, Lainey, Emi, Bean and Kim look like they did when you six graduated high school. Beautiful, young and full of life.
"Y/N, you look as beautiful as ever!" Kim says, cupping your cheeks and squeezing them.
"You guys look amazing, too," you compliment, rubbing your cheeks lightly when she finally let go.
"Ready to party?" Emi asks, wiggling her body in excitement.
"Let's party!" Lainey cheers, grabbing you and Bean's hands, dragging you towards Bean's car. The other girls cheer as they follow, all six of you pilling into the car. With the music blasting, the vehicle starts forward and towards the destination.
It takes around half an hour to get to the party where there are cars lined up and down the street, people standing outside the house, laughing and chatting. It takes Bean a minute to find a spot to park her car, but she finally manages to get a spot rather close to the house. Getting out, you fix your top clear of wrinkles as you drape your bag on your shoulder and follow your group of excited friends. Ahyeon loops an arm through yours as she smiles at you and walks alongside you down the sidewalk.
As you reach the party house, you immediately see a few faces you recognize. They notice your group and smile, a loud "hello" can be heard over the blasting music. You try your best to say hi as you're dragged into the building, the music louder than you thought. The pop music is blaring through the house, the vibrations running up your body through your feet and your eardrums rattle with every beat. Everything smelled of alcohol, sweat and there’s a faint smell of pizza. There are dozens of bodies within the confined spaces of the house. You can see them lining the stairs, the hallway and a few heading out the back door.
“Let’s party!” Bean screams, grabbing hold of an excited Lainey as the two make their way through the large crowd and towards the kitchen where the alcohol must be. You shake your head as the rest of your group laughs and the four of you follow in suit. Reaching the kitchen and the line of ice chests that held all types of alcohol, Bean passes out bottles that she knows each one of you likes.
Kim takes a light pink one, the words “Soju” written in fine print on the bottle as Emi happily takes a dark green bottle muttering, “Finally, someone has class in this place,” as she twists the cap to her gin and tonic. You watch as Ahyun eyes Kim’s drink curiously before requesting the drink, Bean happily giving your friend the same beverage.
Lainey is digging through the fridge for a bit before she triumphantly pulls out a carton of chocolate milk. “I’ve got the goods,” she calls out in satisfaction.
Finally, Bean digs further into the ice chest before pulling out two bottles of Svedka and hands you one. You take it, reading the title again. It’s strawberry lemonade flavored Vodka. It looks like the bottle should be split between people, but you happily twist the cap open knowing she has no intention of sharing hers and expects the same from you and you hold out the glass towards the center for a “cheers!” before taking a swig of the rather delicious content.
It doesn’t take long before you surprisingly finish your first bottle, not feeling much yet as you toss the cap to your second into the bucket pile of bottle caps and head outside for some fresh air. In the far off distance of the backyard, you can see a table with two empty chairs. Everyone who is in the backyard is swimming in the pool, sitting at the available chairs closer to the stereo and cases of alcohol.
Making your way around the pool and running people, you walk past the small rose garden the owner of the house created. You hope no drunk idiot ruins such beauty. Taking a seat at the table, you take another drink of your beverage, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat, your cheeks warm and slightly pink. As you watch the partygoers dance the night away, you begin to think of where they were in high school. Who was the jock, the cheerleader, the band kid and so on. It amazes you how people don’t see that status now—how the once popular girl is holding hands with the basketball player, their smiles bright and happy.
You feel a tinge of jealousy as another couple practically go at it in the corner of the yard, their hands all over each other while a few people yell at them to take it somewhere else. You never took a chance at dating in school because you were so focused on finishing with the highest grades possible. You got valedictorian, a 4.0 GPA and wanted to get into the best school possible and enjoy life in college. You did… to an extent. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while and, much to your dismay at agreeing with your friends, you haven’t had a fling in longer time than that. Being home could mean having that chance to go crazy. The question is whether you’ll do it or not.
A figure appears at the chair next to you. You look up and see Taehyung standing there, a half empty bottle in his hand. He’s looking off at the partygoers as he asks, “This seat taken?”
“No,” you reply, voice small and can be barely heard over the blaring speakers.
Taehyung takes a seat, his attention finally on you as he takes another swig of his bottle—its content now a quarter full. His eyes are half lidded, cheeks a shade of pink and smells of a woodsy spring lingers around him with a mixture of alcohol. He sets his beverage on the table and asks, “Didn’t I see you at the drive-thru the other day?”
You stumble over your words, taken by surprise. He actually recognized you. “Uh, yeah. That was me,” you answer, voice still small and not as confident as you hope it would be.
“We went to Bayside,” he states matter of factly—tone not even showing a hint of questioning.
"Yeah," you begin, shifting in your seat a bit, "we did. We had art together our senior year."
He's quiet for a moment as he studies you, his eyes looking from your eyes to a different body part on your face. You wonder if he's trying to remember seeing you in class. He sat at the back to the right while you sat at the front on the left side of class. You could never get a good look at him through all the students sitting in between, so Taehyung definitely could not see you.
"We had math the year before that, too." You think back for a moment, trying to remember if he's right. "You sat in the middle by Nathan," he informs, and then it clicks. He's right. The two of you had math together. He sat in the front—three people in front of you. You're honestly surprised he remembers that.
"Yeah," you mutter, tone clearly shocked.
He grabs his bottle and takes a final drink. "Why do you sound so shocked?"
"I-uh-I just wasn't expecting you to remember something like that," you confess.
He hums. "It's hard to forget someone like you," he says, standing up from his seat. "I'm gonna go grab another one. You want another?" he asks, gesturing to your beverage.
"Oh-uh, yes please," you answer. You watch him make his way towards the house, giving small nods to the people who greeted him in slurs. As he disappears, his comment lingers in your thoughts. What does he mean by you being hard to forget? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? You’re not sober enough to think hard on this, but you can’t help but wonder what he means. Maybe you should ask.
“Here you go,” Taehyung says, interrupting your thoughts. Blinking, you take the bottle, watching him as he uncaps his drink and takes a seat. “Which school did you end up choosing?”
“What?” How much does he know about you? Is it possible that he’s guessing you decided to go to college?
“You talked a lot with your friend”—he snaps his finger, eyes looking above you in thought as he tries to remember a name—“I can’t remember her name—she’s blonde, hair short to her shoulders…”
“Bean?” you question, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Yeah. Bean,” he confirms, leaning back in his seat. “You talked a lot with her during art about the universities you applied to. You’re super smart, so I’m wondering which school you decided to go to.”
Seems like he just knows a lot more than you thought. Hell, you never thought he’d take interest in your options when you first applied, let alone ask about it now.
“I decided to go to Sloan,” you answer, finishing your drink in your hand before placing it on the table and grabbing your new one. “What about you?”
He rubs his eye slowly, clearly tired and drunk. “I stuck around and went to Bayside, but I just transferred, so I’m heading to Seatree in January.”
Your brows raise in surprise. “Congratulations,” you tell him. “That’s a difficult school to get into.” Seatree is number three in ranking of Ivy Leagues—better than the one here. Getting into a university like that takes a lot of hard work. You hold out your bottle towards him. “To your acceptance,” you say.
He brings his drink to yours, clinking it and says, “To you getting out of here.”
The two of you talk for a while. You talk about high school, the professors you hate, what your future goals are, and so much more. You’ve never had a conversation last this long with Taehyung. You’re enjoying every bit of it.
He chuckles shaking his head. “He just pulled his pants down and that was it,” he says.
You laugh, wiping a fallen tear from the corner of your eye. “I can’t believe he did that. All to avoid having to take a final?”
“Yup. That bastard made up a lie and got a way with it. He took the final later and had enough time to study and pass the class.” He finishes his last bottle, placing it on the corner of the table filled with the rest of the empty glasses you two created. “There are so many more stories I can tell you,” he adds, shaking his head at all the stories that are possibly running through his mind right now.
“I’d love to hear them,” you slur, smiling like the biggest idiot in the world. You would love to have been there for half the stories he’s already told you.
He smiles his heart winning smile and states, “It’s a shame we didn’t talk in high school. There are so many stories I could have told you that I don’t remember.”
Your smile lessens to a small one. You look down at your empty bottle. “You and I are from two different worlds, the platform to connect us doesn’t exist.”
He hums in disagreement, earning your attention. You watch him as he looks from the crowd slowly growing smaller, then he looks towards you. “Talking with you would have been worth it.”
Your mouth opens lightly, obviously surprised by his statement. What does he mean by that? That sentence has a lot of conclusions, and you don’t know which one to take. You’re too intoxicated to deal with these questions right now—especially when he’s saying all these words that make your heart flutter and bring up familiar feelings you had forgotten all those years ago when you graduated high school and never saw Taehyung again.
Maybe you should ask him on a date. Ask him to one night where it’s just the two of you like you wanted to when you first realized your feelings for him. Maybe today will be the day where he says ‘yes’.
“Y/N!” Kim’s voice calls from across the yard. You look towards her and the rest of your friends. “We’re leaving,” she yells, hands cupped over her mouth.
You get up, grabbing as many empty bottles as you can. “Guess it’s time for me to go,” you tell him when you can carry no more. “Nice talk,” you add. Saying your ‘goodbye’ you turn and leave, making your way towards the waiting group.
“I’m always working night shifts,” he shouts. You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. He looks confidently drunk as he says, “I always close alone—best time to visit.”
You’re grateful for your already red cheeks because you are blushing so hard right now. You say nothing and turn around, closing the gap between you and your friends. They all eye you with smirks on their faces.
“Was our little Y/N hanging out with Taehyung?” Ahyeon teases, waving her finger at you.
“From what I saw, Taehyung was flirting with her,” Lainey adds, her brows raising in a knowing manner.
“He wasn’t flirting,” you counter, shaking your head as you head towards the barrels running along the wall of the back of the house. “He was being polite.” You dump all the bottles in one of the empty barrels.
“He basically told you when he gets off work. He’s waiting for you to show up and give him the best sex of his life,” Bean states, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows you best, but she doesn’t know Taehyung, and he is definitely not waiting for you to have sex with him.
You roll your eyes in slight annoyance. “Who’s driving?”
“I am, party pooper,” Lainey answers, tone clearly bummed you’re not letting them have their fun with teasing.
“Let’s order pizza and watch movies,” you say, hoping your suggestion will bring the group’s mood up a little. Thankfully it does and Lainey drives you all to Bean’s house where you have your own party in her basement and finally crash around sunrise.
You’re debating with yourself as you lie in bed on a Wednesday afternoon. The sun is setting, giving your room an orange like glow to the white walls. Since you last saw your friends, and after their constant drunk teasing—well, besides Lainey who only drank chocolate milk the entire party, you are honestly considering whether you should go back to In-N-Out and see what happens with Taehyung.
Sure you almost asked him out, but you were completely drunk and had so much more confidence than you do now. You’re sober and practically pushing away those thoughts.
If fate wants you to go and ask him out, then it needs to appear before you now and tell you to do it. Yup. Fate needs to hurry up and show you this sign.
Your stomach growls, interrupting your thoughts. Climbing out of bed, you head out of your room and towards the kitchen. Your parents went to a party with their friends, so they'll be coming home late. You're on your own for dinner. Opening the fridge, your eyes scan for something to eat. You stand there for a bit, but nothing looks appealing. A small realization hits.
Is this the sign? Is this the sign telling you to go to In-N-Out?
You contemplate for a bit, trying to think of excuses to not go and see him, but you're not convincing yourself hard enough. In fact, you're telling yourself to dress up and head over there and see him.
The next thing you know, you're in your room looking for something cute to wear. You grab a mustard yellow sweater and light blue jeans. Slipping them on, you begin to do your make-up over and over until you're satisfied with it and you almost believe a professional did it rather than you. You went light on the eyes with a bit of brown and yellow eyeshadow and the darkest red lipstick you have. Fixing your hair just a bit, you're finally satisfied with yourself and get up from your vanity chair and go to your closet to grab a grey coat that stops close to your ankles. You dig further into your closet until you find a pair of forest green colored heeled boots and put them on. When everything is complete you do a once over in the mirror before heading out your room and down the hall.
Grabbing your bag and keys, you head out the front door, locking it and entering your car. Putting your car in reverse, you drive out of your driveway and down the street towards Taehyung's workplace.
What are you going to say when you get there? Are you just going to ask him out immediately? Strike up a conversation at first, get him interested in the conversation and then ask him out? What are you going to do? Say? What's the startup topic you're going to begin with?
With all the thoughts running through your mind, you didn't even realize that you made it to the restaurant and you're currently in the parking lot staring at the building a few feet away from where you're parked. You take in a few deep breaths and gather up the courage to exit your car. With your bag's strap draped over your shoulder, you clutch it tightly and begin your walk across the parking lot and towards the entrance doors.
When you enter the building, it's not as packed as you thought it would be. Your guess is because it's almost ten o'clock and no one really has dinner around this time. Walking up to the cash register, Taehyung is nowhere to be seen. Is today his day off? Did you fuck up already?
The man behind the cash register looks you up and down, making you suddenly aware of how fancy your outfit is at a fast food restaurant. You're suddenly self conscious, but you play it off like you wore this with purpose. You could have just gotten off work—what's it to him? You give the man your order and hand him your change, accepting the receipt and cup before heading towards the drink dispenser.
After filling your cup, you find a seat at the back corner next to the window, looking out onto the parking lot. Finally taking notice of your surroundings after realizing that Taehyung isn't here, you realize that the drive thru is the shortest you've ever seen. You were so wrapped up in your fear of attempting to ask Taehyung out that you finally realize that you're way overdressed. You feel ridiculous for dressing up to go to a fast food restaurant and order food.
"Order number eighty-seven," a worker calls, and you get up from your chair and head towards the front. Stepping up to the counter and grabbing your tray, someone says, "Nice outfit." You look up from your food and at the person standing in front of you on the other side of the counter to see Taehyung. He's wearing a white collared shirt with the In-N-Out logo on it, and a tug boat hat with the logo on it as well.
Why does he look so damn good in it?
"Thank you," you mumble, looking away feeling suddenly shy.
"Enjoy your meal," he says, earning back your attention. "You look cute by the way," he adds before turning away and disappearing into the back, and as you watch him disappear, he’s wearing white pants with a red, short apron. You can’t help but admire his ass until it’s gone.
Taking your tray, you head to your seat and begin to eat your extremely late dinner. As you eat you begin to debate with yourself once again. Are you supposed to wait until closing time for him? That's three hours from here. How slow do you need to eat for it to be closing time? Will it just be him or will his coworkers be here as well?
In the end you finish your meal and leave immediately after. You didn't have the courage to stick around.
You're back again, dressed less fancy and currently crossing the parking lot to the entrance doors.
It's been a couple of days since you were last here, but you gathered the courage and came back to do what you couldn't do last time. You even came at a later time so that you don't have to wait over three hours for him to get off.
You enter the building and stand behind the person currently having their order taken. You look towards the back to see if you can spot him anywhere. So far you don't see him.
"I can help next in line," the cashier says, and your gaze is towards her as you step up to her register. You give her your order, hand her the change and take the receipt. "We'll call you when your order is ready," she tells you as you thank her and head to fill your cup.
You wait at your table for a few minutes eyeing the back in hopes of seeing Taehyung. Even when your name is called you still don't see him. It takes you a good fifteen minutes to realize that Taehyung isn't working today and you leave the building with low hopes.
You're back again! This time he has to be working and you can’t leave either! Walking inside the restaurant, you immediately notice Taehyung working the register, staring down and messing with the keys. You exhale, mentally motivating yourself and make your way over to him.
When you reach him, he looks up at you and smiles, sending a million butterflies to flutter in your stomach. “Third time’s the charm—” You interrupt him.
“Let’s go on a date,” you tell him, gathering all the courage you have tonight. He’s grinning now as he says nothing but stare at you, and you suddenly lose all that courage as you mumble, “O-only if you want to.”
“Are you going to stay this time?” he asks, resting his palms at the edge of the counter and leans forward just a bit. “I don’t want to end my shift and not see you here. Again.”
A light blush creeps across your cheeks. “I’ll stay,” you answer, playing with the bottom of your red shirt.
“Okay,” he says, standing up and begins to press buttons before opening and closing the tray to the register, reaching down and placing a cup on the counter in front of you. “On the house.” He goes to the back and you grab the cup, heading to fill it with your choice of drink.
After receiving your food, you eat in silence, and about ten minutes after you began eating, you watch as several employees leave the building. They chat amongst each other clearly happy to leave an hour before closing.
An hour? Where are they going? You look to the front and see no one. Is Taehyung still here? He didn’t leave you, right? That would be a fucked up move if he did—
The lights cut out, with only back up lights filling the dim room. A figure appears from the back, walking around the counter and towards the glass doors. It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust but you eventually realize it’s Taehyung as he locks the doors. You hear the keys jingle before he places them in his apron pocket. You swallow a lump in your throat as he walks over to your table, taking a seat across from you.
“You in the mood to start this date now? My shift ended early.”
You can’t help but giggle. “I’m okay with starting now,” you reply, grabbing a fry and taking a bite out of it.
He smiles a familiar boxy smile. “Good. So, since our last conversation, I managed to come up with a few more questions.”
You hum. “Shoot.”
He adjusts in his seat, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. “I always thought you and Bonet were a secret thing.”
You cock your head to the side in confusion. “Me and Theo?” You shake your head this time and correct, “We did go out once, but it didn’t work out.”
“Why? Too young?” he implores.
“That, and he had a crush on August. They’ve been dating since August and Theo came out around the same time,” you comment. He nods in acknowledgement. “Now I have a question for you,” you say.
He chuckles. “Shoot,” he repeats.
“Why are the jungle fries a secret?” you inquire, taking a drink from your red and white cup.
He furrows his brows. “That’s your question?”
“Are you avoiding the question?” You raise your brows, fighting back a smile.
He can only sigh. “It’s not on the menu, but it is online and we do make it if asked. That’s why it’s a secret.”
“That’s a strange reason,” you comment, taking a bite out of your burger.
“My turn,” he says, and so the two of you spend almost an hour basically playing 20 Questions. Finally he asks, “Walk with me while I make sure everything is ready for tomorrow before we head out?”
“Sure,” you agree, picking up your tray and getting up from your seat to dump it in the trash, placing the tray on the shelf above the trash can.
Following him behind the counter, you scan the back with eager eyes. From all the movies and shows you’ve seen revolving around working at a fast food restaurant, it looks almost the same. Stations for each employee to focus on, fridges for cold items and trays full of vegetables. Taehyung is busy double checking everything, and as you watch him, you can’t help but think of all the possibilities he could have working the night shift.
“Have you ever had sex back here?” you blurt out, full of curiosity, but not really thinking of what you just asked.
You watch as he turns to look at you in surprise. “You’re curious as to whether I had sex back here or not?”
You shrug. “I’d be surprised if you did,” you state.
He shakes his head and turns his attention back to the items in front of him. “I have,” he answers, and your mouth opens slightly in shock. “Had to delete the footage because I realized the camera caught us.”
“No way,” you mutter, voice clearly surprised.
He laughs, “There are a lot of rumors that’s happened on BTS.”
“Like what?” you implore, taking a step towards him.
“There’s this weird dude that works at Arby’s who is way too dedicated to his job. He’s a sign spinner— the cowboy at the corner. People say he fucks people in bushes,” he tells you.
"No way," you say in disbelief. "There's no way someone would be sneaky enough to have sex in a bush out in the open. Cars drive by, and no one has seen them?"
"He has yet to be caught." Taehyung shakes his head in his own disbelief.
"So, everyone is having sex in their workplace it seems," you comment, watching him as places everything back where he found them.
He walks further towards the back with you following after, stating, "I only know of Arby's and obviously here. McDonald's, Starbucks and the rest of the places I don't know if they're as creative as we are."
"Creative," you repeat with a chuckle.
He stops in his track at the back room where you can see the first window where people pay for their food to your left, and a closed door to your right with a small gold plaque with a sign 'manager' printed on it.
"You feel like seeing the creativity I can come up with?" He asks, a brow raised in a questioning yet teasing manner.
You can't help but laugh a little louder. "You can trick your manager once, but you're not getting off trying to be "creative" a second time," you tell him, using air quotes for his term of being dirty in a fast food restaurant.
He grabs his hat and tosses it up behind you. You follow the cap as it flies across the hall and catches perfectly the camera facing the two of you. Your head whips back towards him as he stands there with his arms crossed over his chest. “Your move, sweet.”
With warmed cheeks, you utter, “There’s no way…”
“Whatever you want to do, I’ll play along. If you’d rather go on a date at a park or just chill in the car, okay.” He takes a step closer, his body inches from you, breath fanning your lips as he adds, “If you want to get creative, I’m more than happy to do it.” His eyes glance to your lips before going back up to your wide-eyed ones. “Your call.”
You feel like you’re about to burst with how close he is. You can see his eyes so clearly—the lust that’s hidden beneath those chocolate colored eyes. The hunger that’s looming over you, teasing you and sending chills throughout your body. He’s not even touching you, yet you can feel his hands brush along your skin with a hot trail following after. You want this just as much as he does.
So what’s stopping you?
Crashing your lips to his, you grab a hold of his shirt and bring his body as close as possible to yours. Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to cup your cheeks and kiss you with as much need as you. Lips move along each other with hunger, teeth biting bottom lips, tongues grazing along flesh, begging for entrance.
The two of you are not patient at all as he helps you remove your top, quickly doing the same with his own. He cups your clothed breasts, squeezing and groping roughly as his tongue swirls around yours, his hot breath making your skin feel sweaty.
You run your hands through his hair, pulling roughly, earning a groan from him as his hands travel behind you to unclasp your bra. Releasing your grip on his locks, you take your bra off and drop it to the ground, the kiss breaking as his lips travel down to your neck, biting and licking until he reaches your breasts. He plays with one with his hand while the other is occupied with his mouth, his tongue creating circles around your nipple, teeth biting and sucking. You moan, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling. He pinches your other nipple just as hard as he’s biting it.
“Tae—” Your words catch in your throat as he switches, his fingers pinching your already sensitive tip and biting the other. “Go further,” you beg, watching him as he breaks away from your breasts to look at you. “I need your tongue.”
He grins a cheeky grin. “Your wish is my command,” he tells you before getting to his knees in front of you. He sure does take his time with removing your pants as you had already removed your shoes. Grabbing the waistband to your jeans, he slowly lowers them down until they’re at your ankles. You’re quicker than he is and completely remove them by using your feet to hold one side down while the other foot struggles to be free. You kick them to the side once they’re no longer around your ankles.
“Eager I see,” he comments, but he doesn’t give you time to respond as he leans forward and bits your core through your panties. You let out a small gasp, spreading your legs out more for him. He bites and prods with his finger your clothed core, trailing his finger down between your slit. You can’t help but shutter, closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling of it.
You want more, but you wait. You wait for a small build up he’s creating for you until you’re moving your hips against his finger. Finally, he takes a hold of your underwear and pulls it down. Lifting one leg, he completely removes them and turns his attention back to your naked body. He grabs your leg and lifts it onto his shoulder, spreading your legs as far as he can without you falling over.
He doesn’t waist anytime getting to work eating you out. Taehyung starts by licking your bead, earning small hip thrusts from the sudden touch. Little moans escape your lips as you throw your head back, your back arching as he swirls his tongue around your clit, his fingers playing between your folds. You cry out his name as he begins to suck, your body jerking, hands gripping his hair and pulling his head closer to your womanhood.
You’re grinding yourself against his mouth when he finally stops his fingers at your entrance and inserts two digits, sending you closer to your orgasm. His fingers thrust into you, curling and hitting your g-spot with such ferocity that your body is shaking and hunched over, saying his name like a mantra. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down as he finger fucks the life out of you. His mouth never takes a break as he flicks, sucks and swirls around your swollen bean.
You’ve never been with someone as well practiced as Taehyung. He doesn’t stop his movements as he gets you to your high, white spots invading your vision, breath catching in your throat, toes curling and body spasming so hard that when you’ve finished your orgasm, you fall to your knees in front of him. He catches you and you sit on his leg.
Panting roughly, you barely whisper, “Oh my God.”
Taehyung chuckles. “Are you okay?”
You look up at him, your juices glistening from the light in the kitchen around his lips. You clean it off him with your hand. “That was amazing,” you comment, your hand trailing down his chest.
He shrugs. “I’ve got years of practice under my belt.”
You laugh at his statement, shaking your head. “Well, it’s only fair I repay you,” you say, getting to your feet and he does the same. You push him against the wall at the opposite end of the hall, his eyes are full of lust again when you gaze at him. His hands reach for your face, but you stop them from reaching you, adding, “Ah-ah. We’re going to see how long you last before you touch me.”
He groans, “You repay me by not letting me touch you? That’s unfair, babygirl.”
You grin. “Life is never fair,” you tell him, getting to your knees and focusing your attention on his bulge hidden beneath his white pants. You unbutton and unzip his jeans, gazing your eyes up to see him staring intently at you. He sticks his tongue out to lick his lower lips, his eyes full of hunger like you’re his prey and he’s ready to pounce.
You grab both his pants and waistband to his boxers and slowly drag them down until they are at his ankles. His member is hard and almost hits your lips when it sprung free. Your eyes widen at its size, mouth watering at the sight of it, and your core getting wet all over again at the thought of it pounding you into oblivion.
“Remember,” you begin, the tips of your fingers brushing along his penis, “No touching.” You stick your tongue out and lick his tip, his body jerking from the sensation.
Your tongue circles around his tip, deep, heavy breaths can be heard coming from Taehyung. You can see his hand clench into a fist next to him. He wants you to do more—touch you and guide you where he wants you to be, but he’s resisting so hard. So, you take the desperate hint and take him fully into your mouth, earning a low growl from him.
“Your mouth is so warm,” he says in a husky tone. “Fuck.”
You swirl your tongue around him as you bring your head back and then push forward again, taking him as deep as you can. You continue to bob your head back and forth, sucking on his tip every now and then as he moans in pleasure, his hands going up into his hair or balling into fists at his sides. He curses under his ragged breaths, thrusting his hips to meet you at a faster pace.
You release him from your mouth, grabbing his shaft and lifting it up to place your lips on his balls, your mouth opening to grab what you can and suck. Taehyung is moaning louder and cursing more than he was earlier. His legs shake from the pleasure he can’t contain.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—I can’t take it anymore,” he grunts, reaching his hand down to grab yours holding his girth. He helps you to your feet, quickly getting his feet out of his boxers and jeans, and pushes you backwards until your back is against the cold, tiled walls. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling of it. “I need to be in you, Y/N. I need to feel you,” he pleads, his lips brushing along yours, his member pressing against your walls in a desperate attempt to feel warmth between your legs.
“Please,” you say, lifting a leg up and he takes a hold of it, lifting it higher as his other hand lines himself at your entrance and finally pushes in. The both of you let out moans, kissing each other desperately.
“Fuck, you’re so tight and wet,” he groans, pulling himself out and then pushing back in. “You’re so warm. Shit—I don’t know how long I can last. You feel amazing, babygirl.”
You grab his free hand and bring it to your lips. Taking his middle finger, you put it in your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it as if it were his shaft. “Fuck me,” you command, biting his finger just a bit.
“Oh, baby. I’m going to make your legs feel like jelly,” he murmurs, thrusting into you roughly. Your gasp is caught in your throat as he thrusts deeply into you, giving you no time to catch your breath as he fucks you without a second thought. His finger leaves your mouth, trailing down your body and to your breast to squeeze it as his mouth latches onto your neck.
You feel a small pain on your neck from him biting your skin, a soft touch from his hand fondling your boob and immense pleasure as he enters you with a rhythmed pace. You claw his back, clutch his hair as you moan in the empty building, your voice louder than the hums of the freezer that can be heard somewhere in the kitchen.
“Oh my God, yes. Don’t stop, Tae—right there,” you ramble, arching your back as he hits your sensitive spot. “Fuck yes, right there.”
He grips your thigh tightly, breathing heavily into your neck as sweat drips down both of your bodies. You can feel a hickey growing as he sucks on your skin where your shoulder and neck meet. He doesn’t care and neither do you as you try your best to thrust your hips to meet his fast pace, desperately wanting to reach your orgasm.
“Please touch me,” you beg, gripping his shoulders for balance as your right leg, keeping you up, is shaking. “I’m so close,” you rasp.
His hand that was once fondling your breast is immediately trailing down between your bodies and to your delicate bead. He presses his fingers to it and begins his circular motion, creating a friction your body cannot take. You let out a cry as you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly, shutting your eyes as your high gets closer and closer.
“Fuck I’m about to come,” Taehyung grunts.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” you whisper harshly, the sound of skin slapping against each other, his skin peeling away from yours every time he thrusts out of you. His grunts get louder, thrusts no longer at a pace you’re familiar with. He’s just about there and so are you.
He picks up the speed as fast as he can with his hand and it does just the trick. You’re screaming out his name as you fall into your orgasm, trying your best not to bite him as hard as you are right now. Taehyung is cursing louder and faster as he continues his thrusts and finally goes still.
The two of you hold one another for a moment with panting breaths before Taehyung interrupts, “Some first date, huh?”
You can’t help but chuckle. “I think the rest of the dates won’t top this one.”
Taehyung leans back to look at you, his chestnut curls sticking to his forehead. “Every date we go on from here on out will always top the one before.”
“You sound so confident,” you mumble, your stomach fluttering at the determined look in his eyes.
“I’ve wanted you since we were in middle school. Now that I have you, I’m not letting you go any time soon,” he tells you with so much determination you can’t help but feel a blush rise and blend in with your already reddened cheeks.
“You’ve wanted me?”
“Why do you look so surprised?”
You shake your head in disbelief. “Because you’re Taehyung. Every girl wanted to be with you. You could have anyone and I’m pretty sure you did—”
“When there’s someone who catches your attention, it’s hard to look at anyone else,” he states, lowering your leg and holding your waist to keep you still. Your legs feel like they’re about to give out on you. “Let me show you. Let me prove to you how much I wanted your attention.”
You’re reluctant. You feel like this is a joke, but as you stare into Taehyung’s eyes, you can’t help but feel like he’s telling the truth. Has he always wanted you and you were too blind to see it?
“Okay,” you mutter. “Show me.”
[Saturday, August 19th, 1:30am] Me: So...
[Saturday, August 19th, 1:31am] Bean: Oh! She lives!
[Saturday, August 19th, 1:31am] Ahyeon: Where have you been Y/N! We’ve been texting all day!
[Saturday, August 19th, 1:32am] Me: I was… with Taehyung
[Saturday, August 19th, 1:33am] Kim: NO WAY
[Saturday, August 19th, 1:33am] Emi: This late?? You didn’t…
#bts#bts x reader#bts x you#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts smut#bts au#kim taehyung#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#taehyung fanfic#taehyung fluff#taehyung smut#taehyung au
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12 with Seven and a female MC, NSFW please ^^
Thank you for the wonderful request! And oh boy do I apologize if this wasn’t what you wanted. O_O My imagination was positively THRILLED by this prompt and this...is where it went.
I sincerely hope you DO enjoy this, because god knows I enjoyed writing about it. But seriously if you want a...tamer...NSFW Saeyoung story for this prompt, tell me and I’ll write that one too?? For real??
twelve: born to be together
Saeyoung X Reader; E (M/F sex, roleplaying, light dom/sub, assplay), words: 2941
If it wasn’t already abundantly clear (lol): smut warning, proceed with caution~ <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・
You stand in the walk-in closet, in a forest of brightly-colored and bedazzled fabrics. They’re not organized by any discernible method, but they’re all hung neatly, some in plastic dry-cleaning bags and others draped multiple times over their hangers so they don’t touch the floor. You run a hand down the line of costumes, feeling lace and fur and taffeta. There are some here that are familiar: a maid outfit you’ve seen numerous times and a fuzzy full-body cat suit you find particularly charming. There are others that you’re sure you’ve never seen before.
“Saeyoung?” you call, and he hums in response: he’s sprawled across the bed, playing a game on his phone. “Why haven’t I ever seen you wear most of these?”
He laughs. “There are literally hundreds of outfits in there, babe. You’ve lived here for what, three months? When was I gonna wear them all? You want me to do a fashion show for you?”
You perk up, lifting a sequined tutu to the light so you can see it shimmer. “Yes, please!”
“Just say the word, baaaby,” he sings, drawing out the syllables. He’s teasing, but you’re serious: there is not one thing in this huge, chaotic closet that wouldn’t suit him. You comb through the racks, pushing past a denim mini dress, a full-on space suit, and what looks like a…sexy penguin costume? Okay, maybe not that one.
Toward the back of the closet, in a corner (you’ve got to help him organize all this stuff, you think), there’s a floor-length zip-up bag garment bag. You squish it—there’s something very fluffy in there.
“Hey, what’s in the fancy bag?” you call over your shoulder. You hear a soft flop as he tosses his game aside and the ruffling of the covers as he leaps off the bed. He appears behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Ohhh, this one?” He sounds pleased; he nuzzles the back of your neck with his nose and you squirm, ticklish. “Unzip it and see,” he offers.
You do, and your mouth falls open: in the bag is what you can only describe as a literal princess gown. It’s ballet slipper pink, with layers and layers of chiffon trailing all the way to the ground. The bodice is fitted and embellished with thousands of tiny gemstones.
“What mission was this for?” you gasp, fingering the gauzy, frothy top layer of the skirt.
“Not a mission,” he murmurs into your neck. “Just wanted it.”
Saeyoung skims his hands down your sides, sliding them into both of the front pockets of your jeans.
“I don’t want to know what this cost, do I?” you ask. He cackles.
“You probably don’t.”
Hands in your pockets, he pulls you flush against his body. Maybe it’s the luxurious feeling of the skirt on your fingertips and maybe it’s the insistent way he’s pressing against you, but you have an idea—a revelation.
“I want you to wear it for me,” you say. You slip out of his grasp, spinning to face him—you watch his eyes widen and his cheeks flush as he takes in your serious expression.
“Ohhhh?” he lilts, cocking his head to the side. “So when you say you want me to wear it, you mean…?” He’s teasing you, his hands on your skin again, dancing over your hips, up your sides.
“I mean exactly what you think I mean,” you tell him, and you reach out and stroke his cheek with your fingertips, delighted to feel that, in spite of his posturing, his skin is so warm—he’s flustered, and he melts a little under your intense gaze, his eyes roaming over your body.
He pauses, and for a split second, in spite of his apparent eagerness, you think he might say no. But then he springs into action, grabbing the hanger off the rack, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, and sprinting out of the closet.
“Gimme twenty minutes—no, ten!” he calls to you, already disappearing around the corner, through the bedroom, into the en suite bathroom. You grin, patting your own flushed cheeks with both hands. This, you think, will be worth waiting for.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
In spite of his promises, it’s actually closer to thirty minutes before he emerges again. You lay on your stomach on the unmade bed, half-heartedly scrolling on your phone. The anticipation coils in your stomach. In spite of yourself, you keep glancing up at the closed bathroom door—picturing him there, half-dressed, penciling in his eyebrows with those nimble fingers of his. Knowing that he’s doing this for you—it makes you clench your thighs together, squirming against the bunched-up comforter. Come on, you think.
And just then, as if he’s heard your silent plea, he pushes the door open a crack—just enough for you to catch the tiniest glimpse of an ankle peeking out under perfectly-arranged layers of pink gauze.
“Baby,” he calls, his voice soft, and you sit up straight. “Are you ready for me?”
You’ve never been readier for anything.
“I’m waiting,” you tell him.
So he flings open the bathroom door, and for a moment even you—you, the one who looks at him all day and sleeps beside him every night—are floored. There is a stunningly, jaw-droopingly beautiful woman in your bedroom, long red hair trailing effortlessly over her bare shoulders, thin waist accented delightfully by the tight bodice, toned legs just barely visible through the layers and layers of translucent fabric. Her features are soft, her golden eyes gaze just slightly downward, and one hand rests on her chest, thin fingers hovering just above the dress’s glittering neckline.
“Hi,” Saeyoung murmurs coyly. You feel like your head is going to explode.
“Come here, princess,” you call, and it takes all your willpower to keep your voice level. He obliges you, stepping delicately over the rug, holding up his billowing skirt with one dainty hand. He perches on the edge of the bed, flips a lock of hair over his shoulder. The wig matches his natural hair color and cascades voluminously down his back. He’s perfectly in character: he keeps his eyes lowered and his cheeks are flushed a dusty pink.
“Like this?” he asks, and he leans back the tiniest bit, letting the light catch his semi-translucent skirt, highlighting the silhouette of his thighs through the glistening fabric.
“Just like that,” you whisper. It’s not the first time you’ve taken the lead, but it’s not the norm, either—being in charge feels frightening and exhilarating. “May I touch you, princess?”
He nods, and the flush on the tips of his ears is real, not makeup—and even through the countless layers of fabric that make up his skirt, it’s evident that he’s already starting to get excited.
You sit up on your knees behind him and run a hand over his bare shoulders, part the soft hair that covers his back, wrap them around the back of his neck. He shudders.
“Are you going to be good for me, baby?” you whisper in his ear, and you feel the way his shoulders quiver eagerly. You grip his neck just a little tighter.
“I’ll be good,” he murmurs sweetly, and it’s already almost too much for you. You squeeze your legs together, impatient to touch him, eager to see his perfect demeanor shattered.
One hand still on his neck, you snake your other arm around his waist, which is dramatically cinched by the tight bodice. You stroke up his torso, curious, and feel the curve of what are quiet obviously breasts straining against the ruched fabric, peeking out over the tauntingly low neckline.
“I like these,” you whisper, and he arches his back, leaning into your touch. He laughs a soft, bubbling laugh—and it’s an act, a character, but there is some of Saeyoung’s delightful giggle in it too. Your hand roams across his chest and you slip one finger into the impeccable cleavage he’s created (you’ll have to ask him how, later).
Then you slip your other hand from his throat and explore lower, lower, across his hip, his thigh. You dip your head and take the soft skin of his shoulder between your teeth, biting hard enough to leave a small, half-moon-shaped mark. He whimpers, and you move your hand down his thigh, pointedly avoiding the erection that you can now see very clearly through the layers of chiffon. You taunt him, nipping his neck again, sliding the skirt up so you can drag your fingernails across his leg. He’s trying so hard to stay still, but his hips give him away, rocking forward the tiniest bit, seeking relief against the silky fabric.
“Are you going to let me fuck you, princess?” you hiss against his skin—and it’s a tease, but it’s a genuine question, too.
A moan tears from his throat, quiet yet desperate. He keeps his hands neatly folded in his lap but his eyes flutter shut and his hips wriggle as you pinch the skin of his thigh.
“P-please,” he whines, and he leans his head back, eyelids fluttering shut. “Please, I want you to…”
“Don’t move,” you tell him, and he obeys, sits perfectly still on the edge of the bed, his skirt splayed out artfully around him. He makes a perfect picture, you think—head reclined, yearning evident in every tense muscle of his body.
You go to the bedside cabinet and pull out the things you need: the little pink bottle of lube and a toy—a thin, smooth dildo, light-colored and fairly unobtrusive. You slip it out of its harness, deciding to use it in your hand today—and you return to him, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. He’s opened his eyes and he’s taking you in, standing over him, the toy in your hand—his beautiful eyes are huge and desperate.
“On your hands and knees, honey,” you purr, and he complies eagerly, climbing gracefully onto the bed and arching his back for you. “Don’t tease me,” you say, and he trembles. The skirt billows out around him and you set down the toy so you can slip a hand under his dress, over his silky-smooth thighs (did he shave his legs?). You’re delighted to find that he’s not wearing anything under the gown.
You run your hand up his thigh; he’s sticking his ass in the air, practically begging for you, and you slap it, face breaking into a smile as he whimpers.
“How bad do you want me right now, beautiful?” you ask him, and he moans softly, his legs shaking.
“I need you,” he hisses, and he sounds a little less like a princess and a little more like Saeyoung. You suck your index finger, wetting it, and then you slip it up and under his skirt and inside him. He reacts immediately, thighs shaking as he struggles to hold himself up, gasping for air. You slide your finger a little bit deeper inside him and you can’t help but grind your hips against the edge of the bed as you do, hopelessly turned on by the noises he’s making. He adjusts, widening his hips for you, and you curl your finger inside him, gently increasing the pressure and watching him come apart before your eyes.
“I’m r-ready,” he pants, “please,” and you pull your finger out of him, warming the toy with both hands as you liberally smear it with lube.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” you tell him, and you can barely keep your voice from shaking. “I don’t want you to make a sound till I say so, princess.”
He quivers in anticipation but doesn’t say a word. Almost without thinking, you unbutton and unzip your jeans, slip one hand down, down, over your underwear. The need you feel is overwhelming.
With one finger pressed against your clit, over your underwear, you take the dildo in your other hand and slide it over his ass, down, and finally inside him. His legs shake uncontrollably and for a moment you think he’ll fall—but he doesn’t, he stays on his hands and knees, back bent for you, and though his pleasure is evident in the way he throws his head back, hair falling everywhere, he’s quiet—just like you asked him to be.
You gasp, impossibly aroused by the sight of him like this, the delicate skirt falling every which way. You wish you could see his face, the ruined look in his eyes, but you settle for the sight of his ass and thighs shaking, framed seductively by layers of pink gauze. You slide the dildo deeper inside him and he twitches, gasping. At the same time, you move your finger over your swollen clit, moaning softly as you give yourself the stimulation you’ve been craving.
He’s so good, so obedient, so quiet, trembling as you fuck him with the toy and fuck yourself with your finger. He pushes back against you and his arms give out; he bends forward, face pressed into the bed. Your own legs are shaking like they don’t want to hold you up anymore but both your hands are occupied, so you lean harder against the bed, hissing as you move your finger in tight circles against yourself and angle the toy upward, questing for his p spot.
You’re going to come, you think—you’re going to come so fast, from your own hand, as you watch your boyfriend clad in this extravagant gown falling to pieces before you.
“I want you to come with me,” you hiss, moving your finger quicker and more frantically against yourself, “and I want to hear you.”
He moans immediately as if he’s been fighting to hold it back all this time, rocking his hips back into the toy. You can tell he’s close and you are too, driven half-mad by the sight of him. You rub your faster, faster, and you slide the toy in and up, penetrating him deeper. He groans, and there is still some of the pretty, modest princess in his voice, because god this boy knows how to stay in character, but the unbidden desperation is there too. He’s on the edge, you can tell, and you feel the telltale sensation of your toes curling, your thighs clenching…
And you throw your head back, continuing the pressure with your finger as the pleasure crests, thrusting into him more roughly, begging him to come with you…
And he does come, from the toy alone, his cock untouched—yelping as he rocks forward, his face buried deep in the pile of blankets on the bed and his whole body shaking…
And you feel tears in your eyes as you let yourself be taken over by the sensations, overwhelmed by the pleasure gripping you…
And he’s moaning, high-pitched and beautiful, crying for you to keep going…
And stars burst beneath your eyelids and you can’t see, thrusting into him one more time, knowing you’re hitting just the right spot as he sobs out your name.
And it slows, slows, and he’s panting, and you catch your breath and slip your hand out of your pants, pulling out of him with a trembling hand. He’s still shaking too, a quivering, beautiful mess gauze and tulle.
“You okay, babe?” you gasp, crawling up onto the bed beside him. He turns his head and you catch your first glimpse of his face—deliciously wrecked, mascara under his eyes and bright pink spots on his cheeks.
“I…I…wow,” he manages, finally sitting back on his heels. He’s in disarray, his hair in his eyes, his skirt sticking to his legs. “That was new,” he says quietly, his eyes shining as he tucks the long, fake hair behind his ears. “I never came like that before, just from…”
“I know.”
“The dress…” He laughs, pulling apart the unkempt layers of gaze.
“I guarantee I can figure it out,” you say, giggling, collapsing onto the pile of pillows. “I’ll just google ‘how to get cum out of ball gown.’”
“Oh god.” He grimaces, twisting and falling onto his back beside you. The skirt still manages to billow out splendidly around his legs. “Maybe…don’t google that.”
You turn and kiss him on the lips, sighing contentedly as he responds with enthusiasm, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.
“Thanks for doing that for me,” you say. “That was…a fantasy I didn’t know I had, till today."
He grins against your lips.
“Oh, I knew I had that fantasy,” he says, skating his hand up your leg, around your waist. “But you…you…”
“Hmmmm?” You curl into him, finding that the fake breasts make a surprisingly comfortable pillow.
“I never thought I’d be loved the way you love me,” he says, kissing your cheek, your eyebrow, your forehead. “I didn’t think a person like you existed.”
“Course I do,” you tell him, flipping the skirt over his hip so you can rest your hand against his thigh. His skin really is amazingly soft. “We were always going to find each other.”
“Next time,” he says, melting into your touch, kissing your earlobe. “Dress up as a sexy prince for me, babe?”
You tuck his wig behind his ear and kiss his beautiful, smudged, wrecked, perfect face. “Anything for you, princess.”
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
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Once you get a taste
Pairing: Jennie x Rosé
Prompt: Rosé whispers a secret Jennie finds herself quite interested in. Under the weight of soft music, dim lights, and a few glasses of soju, the groupmates get to know each other better.
Warnings: Slight mature content
(cr: pinterest)
“…And the guy asked me to jump. In the middle of the photoshoot. In eight-inch heels. Wearing jewelry four men with surgical gloves had just put around my neck as it was, I don’t know, made of crystal or something. I swear I don’t know who looked at the photographer with the most ‘fuck no’ expression: me or them”.
Jennie chuckles vividly, titling her head back in a sharp motion.
Slightly tipsy Rosé is always a wonder.
They are celebrating their first free day after long months of work in the dorm, just the two of them. Lisa had taken advantage of the relieving weekend to see her parents and Jisoo had done exactly the same, eager to spend time with her nephew to teach him invaluable lessons, she had claimed. Jennie had wondered faintly whether she was talking about true values or some secret curse words, and she had quickly decided that her friend intended to do both.
The big house seemed somehow empty without the loudest members, but Rosé’s casual singing and their short conversations, the ones that have flowed between them swiftly since the moment they met, were enough for the upbeat atmosphere of the place to remain strong.
Their recent success was of course of great help. The boost they received both from fans and critics gave the group a warm shower of confidence that made their smiles grow larger still every now and then. They worked hard, and their efforts did not get wasted.
That is the reason, mainly, why Jennie and Rosé are currently sitting on a soft mattress on the floor, soju glasses filling and emptying on the sturdy coffee table just in front of them, both girls laughing openly at shared stories that make their chests spurt affection.
“So, did you jump?” Jennie asks then, happy tears prickling at the corner of her sharp eyes, leaning forward intentionally and letting her shoulder bump against her groupmate’s.
“Fuck no, I- don’t laugh! It was difficult!”
Jennie breaks out laughing again, squeezing the glass she’s holding on her left hand and using the other to grasp Rosé’s arm as if to anchor herself. The silver-haired girl follows suit, sharing the shortest girl’s pure excitement, somewhat glad to be the source of such demonstration of contentment.
“God. I would’ve loved to be there. Remind me to go with you to your next photoshoot”.
Rosé keeps smiling, now her expressive eyes growing softer.
“I will”.
There is a moment of comfortable silence filled by the deep beat of a slow, electric song. The girls have decided to give in their indie cravings just half an hour ago, and now the chosen playlist is serving as an enjoyable background for their encounter.
“I like that”, Rosé comments softly, turning her head up to stare at the thousand colorful dots tracing patterns on the ceiling.
“A fan gift. One of my favorites. I use it when I can’t sleep”.
The silver-haired girl admires the light for a while longer, feeling a fuzzy sensation crawling up in her stomach.
She feels so, so fitting.
She turns around to talk to her friend, and she is kind of surprised to find the brunette her staring mutely into her eyes. Jennie’s cat-like stare burns somehow, caressing her features tenderly.
Something flashes in her coffee gaze, a bright emotion that catches Rosé out of guard, like a soft pang making her heartbeat pick up.
Just as it comes, it leaves quickly, and Jennie smiles lazily again.
“You have your own galaxy”, Rosé jokes weakly, then, rushing to drown the soju that still waits in her cup.
The shortest girl lets her hand run through her own silky dark locks still grinning, almost as if for herself, and reaching forward to catch the definitely too expensive bottle in front of her, she turns towards her friend almost as if on the verge of revealing a secret.
“It’s ours, now. Isn’t it, Rosie?”
Rosé might have as well chocked on her spit only by hearing Jennie’s low voice, but now, with alcohol dancing daringly through her veins, she merely blushes slightly before giggling in sudden joy.
“True”. The blonde watches Jennie’s delicate hands refilling both their glasses with a delicacy she firmly believes can only be inherited, and then lets her ears catch on the soft tune vibrating from the speakers. “How are you, by the way? I’m surprised you didn’t want to say home tonight”.
With home Rosé means home home, as in her mother’s home, and Jennie seems to understand perfectly.
“It seemed just right to stay here. I prefer it, sometimes. It’s familiar, too”.
The silver-haired hums in agreement, letting bold liquid run hot through her throat. “Me too. I love my parents, but this also feels right. After all we went through… well…” she looks down at her glass and then lets her coffee gaze meet Jennie’s intense stare. “I don’t know. I like spending time with you”.
“Almost like sisters…” Jennie comments, but her voice comes out a bit too breathy to appear certain. It’s more like a question, exploring, like her hand inching closer Rose’s thigh.
The tallest girl licks her lips unintentionally, her body sinking deeper against the feet of the couch.
“Yes, but… Not quite, really”, there is a tense pause, and Rosé can almost hear the faint beat growing deeper, “right”?
Jennie hums in a sound that comes closer to a purr and finally lets her fingertips press against Rose´s exposed skin.
The tallest girl suppresses a surprising shiver as she wonders whether she should have worn a longer dress.
Or a shorter one.
“Not quite”, the brunette agrees, still staring at her friend with a sparkling stare.
Rosé swallows, feeling a hot flush heating up her neck, and rushes to drink a bit more of the transparent beverage already making her limbs feel lighter.
There is no way, Rosé. Come on. This is fucking Jennie, dam it.
There is another pause. The dim lights change slowly, creating another pattern that becomes bluish. Jennie inhales deeply, feeling pleasantly warm, the fabric of her simple white shirt sticking against her collarbones, and she takes another sip before analyzing her friend’s features again.
Gorgeous, she thinks, and lets her fingers caress a bit more of the tender skin of her thigh.
“Do you miss Australia, Rosie?”
The silver-haired girl tilts her head as if pulled away from her own thoughts. She looks at Jennie with pensive eyes and a cute pout drawing on her reddened lips.
“A bit… some things”, she whispers.
Jennie catches the sound of one of her favorite songs. Rose’s scent flowery grows somehow stronger, dazzling.
“Like what?” the brunette asks.
Rosé squirms almost imperceptibly. A thought, an unwanted one crosses her mind immediately. She scrunches her nose in an attempt to put it away, to find a reasonable answer to Jennie’s enquiries, but the soju has already started to occupy her mind with a pleasant yet undefeatable mist.
“Oh... Uh- the climate”, she blurts out, putting a strand of hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture.
The shortest girl licks her lips as her sharp gaze turns predatory. She tries to soften the immediate smirk that reaches her mouth, observing as Rosé twitches in her place with terribly concealed nervousness.
“Oh, come on. You must miss something else. A country with such different culture… I’m sure there’s a call burning inside you. Tell me”, she speaks softly, trying to keep her tone light, “I can keep a secret”.
The silver-haired girl lets her wide gaze fall on her friend’s calm expression, trying to ignore the sneaky fingers caressing up her upper thigh.
There is something that she has been missing, definitely. Something she was never courageous enough to bring up. Something that she has buried deep in the back of her mind to keep it there until her career is secure enough.
But Jennie’s cat eyes are still tracing her features in affectionate patience, and her nails are now scratching circles in her waist. She feels light, slightly dizzy, with alcohol warming up her cheeks comfortably. The night is stiffy and the bright shapes on the ceiling are so beautiful that she feels as if secluded, safe in the refugee they created whilst breaking in giggles.
She considers that she can trust Jennie. There is very little she has heard the brunette judging other people for.
“I”, she starts with a cough, “There is something. Back in Australia, when I was still a teenager I had this… friend. Female friend”.
Jennie hums as pure amusement begins to dance in her stare.
“We would… you know. Just… explore… each other”.
“Oh”, the brunette murmurs, and Rosé turns to face her eyes in a mixture of embarrassment and fear. The fingertips caressing her waist move to her left hipbone. It feels nice.
Jennie’s expression, rather than showing disgust, drips interest as she tilts her head softly. When her light-brown hair falls onto her shoulder, the pale expanse of her neck is displayed like a prize. The tallest girl needs to remind herself that she doesn’t do it in purpose.
“Yeah. It was… fun”
The brunette snorts lightly. Rosé sips onto her glass once again.
“I bet it was, darling. I thought you were a church girl, though”.
Rosé, suddenly animated both by her friend’s heady voice and the liquid burning through her veins breaks in a slow smirk.
Jennie licks her lips again, gazing into enticing red.
“Yeah… where do you think I met her?”
Jennie gasps slightly before letting out a surprised chuckle. It sounds deep and satisfied, and it mixes perfectly with the slow beat playing in the room.
“My, my, Rosie. Aren’t you… risky?”
Rosé shrugs, smiling in sudden pride. She feels Jennie’s hand twitching against her hips, so she decides to caress the length of her arm in return.
“I don’t know. It was quite natural. Then I got here and… well. It’s not like I could continue”.
There is a moment of silence that, although not uncomfortable, is suddenly charged with a shift in the air. It gets hotter. The lights turn red and purple. Rosé’s heartbeat starts to gain speed against her chest, as now unrepressed memories of playtime hours with her childhood friend swirl in her hazy mind.
“So you’ve never made out with any of the other trainees back when we were living all together?”
Rosé stares at Jennie almost as if confused. Her blunt nails trace the path marked by the brunette’s veins. She feels the way her touch raises goosebumps.
“Huh, no… did… you?”
Jennie’s eyes burn into Rose’s coffee stare.
“No. As a matter of fact…” she is showing off that damn smirk and the tallest girl can barely hold it together, “I’ve never kissed a girl. I’m curious”.
Rosé makes an effort not to squeeze her thighs together. She sees how Jennie’s pupils grow darker, wider, more cat-like than ever. She is enjoying herself openly; everything from her bold body language and the way her fingers run through her friend’s inner thighs makes wild desire bloom in the silver-haired girl’s stomach.
In any other situation, Rosé would be blushing madly, making her way out of the room hastily.
At that moment, with the heavy atmosphere attaching hypnotically against her skin, she decides that she might as well give Jennie what she seems to be asking for.
“Oh, it’s wonderful”, she plays, smothering her voice in a very appetizing tone, “soft and sexy. Very feminine”, she lets the warm pads of her touch run up her friend’s arms, sliding across her pointy shoulders.
“Rosie…” Jennie answers breathily, shinning with her pulse running high, “Shouldn’t you share with your unnie some of your vast knowledge? Seems only fair…”
She inches closer to her friend, her face tilted captivatingly, already letting her gaze fix on the tallest girl’s lips.
“Unnie, of course”, Rosé answers, and lets her worries drown in the alcohol blazing her blood, “Anything you’d like”.
And just like that, Jennie leans forwards to catch Rosé’s open mouth in a deep kiss.
It is immediately heated. The tallest girl’s warm, ragged breath invades the brunette’s space like a spell. A firm hand grasping her neck keeps her in place, and a slim arm wraps around her waist urgently.
In response, Jennie feels her own pulse palpitating against her eardrums. She lets her hand caress her friend’s collarbones before sliding them into her rich silver hair when the tallest girl angles her jaw differently.
The lights grow darker in a blissful moment and the brunette finds herself being guided by Rosés insistent indents. Her thighs come to trap Rose’s as she seeks comfort on the tallest girl’s lap. When the silver-haired girl sucks lightly on her lower lip, Jennie grinds down instinctively, a mewl-like sound bursting from her throat.
They both know that they should be thinking about their current situation further. It’s a thought shadowing the very, very back of their hazy minds, but it’s difficult to give it presence when the warmth of their bodies grows steadily in a boost of pure want.
Jennie has to gasp when Rosés plump lips descend lower, grazing her cheek, her chin, her jaw. Her fingers tangle in soft blonde hair as she tilts her head up to grant her more access, asking her silently to comply with the deep desire that has just born low in her stomach.
Rosé does not need to be told twice. She runs her mouth down her friend’s throat, delighting in her expensive scent, running blunt nails through luscious thighs.
“Oh”, Jennie murmurs, and it’s enough for the blonde’s foggy mind to find some clearance.
She pulls away almost as if terrified, her movements put into a halt. She feels the tickles of panic and slight shame heating up her cheeks.
In exchange, the brunette opens her eyes lazily, revealing a stern expression behind her sharp eyes, her mouth curling downwards in visible annoyance.
Rosé is about to beg for forgiveness, but Jennie speaks first.
“What’s going on?” she asks, her hand pressing against the tallest girl’s nape, “Thought you were going to be my teacher”, she adds then, her voice searching for a lower, much more suggestive tone.
It takes the blonde two seconds to catch on with the reality that Jennie wants this, too. Very much so, given by the way her hips grind down again, almost as if on their own accord.
Rosé smiles, then, slow, and dangerous, feeling the last shreds of the self-control she was so desperately holding into getting looser in her chest. Her hands inch forwards, nails slipping under the hem of the brunette’s shorts. She looks up at her with an analyzing stare, delighting on Jennie’s compliant expression.
“Well, of course”, she answers, her words coming breathier as her wide eyes reflect a playful darkness, “but I must warn you, this might be a long lesson, unnie”.
Jennie finds herself chuckling lowly, closing her eyes as Rosé’s teeth run just sharp enough against her shoulder.
“Of course”, she lets out, and forces herself to choke a whining sound when the blonde tongues her stuttering pulse point, “I’ll be a good student”.
Rosé just smiles widely before pulling the shortest girl down for another toe-curling kiss.
Jennie turns out to be quite a brilliant student, indeed.
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