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zepskies · 11 months

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Break Me Down - Part 11

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Happy Father's Day and early Juneteenth! In honor of the holiday weekend, here's an early chapter update. 😘

Word Count: 4,000 Tags/Warnings: Violence and peril, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Part 11: The Lion’s Den

“Where is she?” Ben asked, once he and Frank were loaded in the car.

Loco and his team had to stay behind as their distraction for escape. If they weren’t slaughtered, they’d be taken into custody.

Ben knew he could’ve wasted all of them, Butcher, his team, the CIA, but the nuclear power in his chest had refused to cooperate…

Anyway, Black Noir hadn’t been there. So it was all the more useless to stick around. The real plan was with you, and he was very surprised that you’d stuck to it…but maybe he shouldn’t have been.

“She was brought to the Tower,” Frank informed him.

Ben smirked. “Good. But pretty fucking stupid of Stan to stick around there when he knew I’d be coming.”

He looked over and noticed Frank’s frown as he drove.

“Unless he’s not at the Tower,” Frank said.

Ben’s smirk fell. Why would that prick take her there if…

“We have to be open to the possibility that his Chief of Security is taking the matter of his daughter into his own hands,” Frank said. “Or she’s improvising.”

Ben frowned.

That didn’t change when they arrived at the Tower, and attempted to use the entrance through the back garage to avoid attention. But it didn’t matter.

The entire squad of Vought security, included what looked like some added muscle (hopped up on what smelled like V24), met them when they reached the lobby of the building. Now that the Seven had been disbanded, there was no pretense of “good guys vs. bad guys.” It was just defense and siege.

And in front of them all was Black Noir.

“There you are,” Ben said, but the other supe didn’t even tilt his head in greeting. He was a still statue, an attack dog given a single mission.

When Noir surged forward, Ben ran to meet him. It was a clash of blade to shield, fist to fist, grappling and reflexes that only Compound V could endow. The match tore through the lobby, then up the large staircase as Ben continued to fight his way up to Stan’s office.

Frank was already on his way up to you, but it would take him time with Vought security crawling all over them. He was good, and temporarily a supe, but he was still just one man.

Meanwhile, Ben and Noir’s fight spilled into the upper floors, through walls and offices and screaming employees trying to get out of their way.

Once they reached near the floor below Stan’s office, Ben got an arm around Black Noir’s neck, and with his free hand tried to unmask him. He wanted to know for sure what lied underneath it, if it was actually the Noir he knew. Or if it was something else entirely.

But Noir twisted with superior reflexes and flipped Ben hard over his shoulder. In the process, he ripped off Ben’s helmet. His brown hair hung over his brows as he pushed to his feet, deliberately taking his time.

When he turned, Noir was standing there with the helmet crunched in his hand. Rolling his neck, Ben prepared to jump back into the fight, but a new sound reached his ears.

He heard you on the floor above. And you were fighting someone…

Ben pressed a finger to the comm in his ear.

“Frank, you got eyes on her?”

V24 had endowed the man with x-ray vision. A moment later, Frank patched through while he struggled and fought.

“She needs help,” he said gravely.

Ben took his hand off the comm, gritting his teeth. Black Noir was still waiting on him, attuned to Ben’s every move as the other supe brandished one of his blades.

Shit, Ben thought. He needed to end this.

Right fucking now.

That resolve helped him take a deep breath, then summon the energy inside him. He focused with the aim of blasting a clean stream of power at Black Noir; not enough to take out the whole building, but enough to take out just him.

His insides felt molten when the power collected, and finally released at his target.

Noir covered himself at the last moment with a piece of fallen debris (a half-crumbled wall), but it only created a small buffer. The force of the blast itself pushed him down the hall and through the side of the building.

Meanwhile, you were holding your own…but you were also getting beat to hell.

You were battered, with blood dribbling down the corner of your mouth from a particularly bad hit.

You were still standing though.

“You’ve gotten soft,” Jon remarked. He’d broken a sweat, had some bruises, and was panting for breath just like you. But he was more in control as he swatted a well-aimed, yet ultimately weak fist as your strength waned. He used his own to smack you down again.

“I gave you time to come around, and this is what you did with it,” he said, shaking his head. “Disappointing.”

When you tried to stand on shaking legs, he kicked you in the dead center of your chest. You felt your ribs crack as you fell back into the glass coffee table.

You gasped for breath, turning onto your side as glass pricked at your back, your sides, your arm. You coughed, wincing at the agony of knife-like pain near your lungs. Blood flecked from your mouth onto your arm, and for a moment, you stared at it in a daze.

But then Jon was above you. You tried to swipe at his face, but he bat your hand away, his brows furrowed angrily. He turned you back onto your back and wrapped a hand around your neck. Your eyes flew wide with panic.

He squeezed with enough pressure that it wouldn’t crush your windpipe, but it was sure to knock you out eventually. You slapped and clawed at his hand, but he only shushed you.

“What you need now is what you’ve always needed. A firm hand,” he said. “But I’m going to help you. I promise, I will.”

The fight drained out of you as it became impossible to breathe, and harder still to block out his words from entering your brain.

But then, the vice around your throat was gone. Oxygen poured back into your lungs as you gasped, then coughed again when your fractured ribs protested.

Your eyelids fluttered open in time to see your father thrown hard into the far wall. You heard the sick crack and breaking of bone as he landed.

Still, you struggled to breathe.

Tears leaked from your eyes when you looked up and found Ben. His helmet was missing, and he wore a furious, steely frown. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out except for more coughing, and more blood.

To your surprise, he tucked his shield on his back and bent down to scoop you up into his arms.

You cringed, uttering an agonized sound when he tried to move you.

Ben hesitated. Looking down at you, some of his anger drained. He made a slower ascent as he straightened to his full height.

And without a word, he carried you out of the room and down the ruined hallway. All the while, you stared at the side of his face. His jaw was still clenched, his brows knitted, his eyes set dead ahead.

You wondered why he had to wait for moments like this to show you who he truly was.

“What are you, some kind of hero?” you managed to quip, offering a small smile.

Ben glanced down at you, and gradually smirked. “Something like that.”

When his foot slipped on a piece of debris, he righted himself quick. But the jerking movement jostled you, eliciting another pained whimper. Your hand gripped at his chest, digging into the grooves of his suit.

“Hold on,” he murmured. His lips briefly pressed to the crown of your head. “We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

Your eyes closed at the tender touch, and a few more tears spilled down your cheeks.

“He…knew,” you managed to say. “Knew I was lying.”

“I know,” said Ben. “I should’ve fucking known better.”

You marveled at that near apology. Your lips trembled as you rested your head against his chest. You just couldn’t help it anymore.

“Was my idea,” you admitted.

“Yeah, well, evidently not all your ideas are aces,” he said.

You could’ve gotten angry, but you saw the way he moved with care, trying not to slip again for your sake. You tried at a smile.

“Guess not,” you said, though you bit your lip at the pain that seemed to radiate through your entire body. Ben seemed to notice.

“Just relax,” he said, a deep rumble. But there was a soothing note to it, you thought. Or maybe, you just liked the sound of his voice.

Then silence fell between the two of you, both comfortable and tense as Ben focused on potential threats in his surroundings.

All the while, you continued to rest your eyes. Instead of your pain, you tried to concentrate on his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek.

“It’s about fucking time,” you eventually heard Ben grouse.

You opened your eyes and were relieved to see Frank exiting the stairwell to meet you and Ben. His face and black tactical gear were splattered with blood, but he looked fine, more or less. His gaze roamed over you with his usual stoicism, but you thought you saw a glint of concern.

“I take it Stan Edgar isn’t here,” said Frank.

“You could fucking say that,” Ben snarked. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

“Sir.” Frank saw something ahead, behind you. Ben turned to find Black Noir silently standing in the middle of the hall, with a large, suspicious-looking gun in his hands.

Without taking his eyes off Noir, Ben gestured to Frank. He came up beside you, and Ben passed you into Frank’s arms.

“Get her out of here,” Ben ordered. With a nod, Frank carried you back the way he came, towards the staircase. You tried to peer over his shoulder.

“He shouldn’t face Noir alone,” you said, even though every breath was a challenge with the sharp pain in your chest.

“He’ll meet us after,” Frank told you. But as soon as he started down the stairs, a fresh team of Vought security and police came to meet you.

Meanwhile, Ben stared down the hall at his opponent. Black Noir activated the strange gun, which lit up with a blue energy.

“You can bring out any kind of fancy artillery you want, but it’s not going to stop me from killing you,” Ben taunted.

Noir remained silent, of course, but he aimed the gun and fired. It shot a potent, crystal blue beam of energy that ate through Ben’s shield, and eventually hit him in the chest before he could finish revving up his own power. The blast from the gun, it wasn’t hot.

It was ice cold. So frigid that it extinguished the heat that had been building in his chest, but it wasn’t diffusing his power completely…it just made it even harder to control.

And the resulting backlash was overwhelming.

Ben woke slowly, like wading through molasses. Usually his mind was sharp, even when he woke from a booze-induced coma. Now he felt groggy, and it was hard to focus or even force his body to sit up on the hard cot he was laying on.

Glancing down, he realized he’d been changed out of his suit. He was dressed in a plain gray shirt and matching pants, no shoes. He knew a prison outfit when he saw one, just as he now knew where he was: a white padded cell.

Fuck.

At least it was better than a frigid coffin…but in his mind, not by much.

He slid his legs over and managed to push up onto his feet.

Why’s it so fucking misty in here? he thought, waving his hand through the smokey air. And why was he so tired?

He soon got his answer when he realized who stood at the large window at the front of his cell.

Stan Edgar.

The man himself, dressed in a well-tailored navy suit, was watching him with crossed arms.

“We did hope you would remain on sabbatical,” said Stan. “But I had a feeling you would return, and come directly to us.”

Stan gestured to the large cell. “This was our contingency plan.”

Ben made his way, with difficulty, closer to Stan, who pointed at the air vents above that were pumping in a gas of some kind.

“A light mist of Novichok,” Stan explained. “Enough to keep you docile.”

“And if I’m not?” Ben asked. His voice was edged with grit, and the promise of retribution.

“We can up the dose, put you to sleep indefinitely,” Stan replied. “But you have my attention. What would you like to discuss?”

“The conversation I planned on having was…a little different,” Ben said darkly. “But first, let’s start with what you used to clone Black Noir.”

“I suppose there’s no real harm in telling you,�� Stan said. Even his voice was grating on Ben’s ears, the smug prick.

“We kept some of Homelander’s blood as an insurance policy. But, we’ve learned from our mistakes.”

“Right,” Ben scoffed. “How’s that?”

“This Noir is not a carbon copy, but nor is he a megalomaniac. He’s under our control,” Stan said.

“Until he isn’t,” Ben snarked. If he thought about it, that was something you would say. Maybe your penchant for smart-ass remarks had gotten into his head.

“And that new gun?” he asked. “Don’t tell me your little lab rats put that together just for me.”

Stan’s lips made a wry turn.

“It was a breakthrough project. Temporarily destabilizes the energy you generate when you charge up like a Power Puff Girl.” Stan thought for a moment, then inclined his head. “A reference, I realize, which may be lost on you.”

“So what’s the play here?” Ben said. He was getting impatient. “You know, when I break out, things aren’t gonna be pretty.”

Stan didn’t seem bothered by the clear threat.

“In the meantime,” he said, “you won’t be alone.”

Stan stepped back and revealed the cell right across the hall. Through the window, Ben could see you, lying unconscious on a shitty cot in similar gray pajamas. His brows crunched as he narrowed his eyes, trying to peer in closer. You looked like you’d been bandaged up, at least.

“You also managed to put my Chief of Security in Intensive Care, but his daughter should be fine…if a bit worse for wear,” Stan informed him.

Ben glared back, his lips curling. Sloppy of him. He should’ve made sure that bastard was dead.

“That’s cute, considering he’s the demented fuck who beat her to hell,” Ben said.

Stan rose a solitary brow. “And at whose behest did she enter the lion’s den?”

Ben had nothing to say to that.

You woke with a pained groan before your eyes even opened. Your body felt like a walking welt.

Your brain pounded like bongo drums, your chest felt tender with every infinitesimal movement, but you realized that you’d been seen to medically, at least. Your head was bandaged, and you felt that the blood had been wiped from your face and arms.

You looked up and found, with a sigh, that you were indeed in a cell. But you softened when you found Ben through the large glass window, in a cell of his own. He was sitting on his bed, arms crossed, with his back against the wall. His eyes found yours, and his lips twitched.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

He sounded off. Tired, you thought. And you noticed a steady mist being piped into his room.

Shit. Novichok, you surmised with a frown.

“You okay?” you asked.

Ben chuckled a little. “You’re the one who looks like hell.”

“Why, thank you,” you replied wryly.

There was a pitcher and a cup of water on a tray, a small paper cup of what you assumed were painkillers, and an ice pack next to you on the cot.

You hesitated on the pills, but in light of your incredible pain, you had no choice. You took the pills, drank the water, and grabbed the ice pack, pressing it against your sternum. You sat up all the way with a slow gait and a pained groan.

“Go slow,” he warned. “Bet you’re missing that Temp. V right about now.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“How’d you get caught?” he asked.

That succeeded in dimming your mood. You explained that Frank had been forced to set you on your feet when you were confronted by more security and a police squad.

The man had been a one-man weapon; hopped up on V24 as he was, he managed to fight his way down to the garage, where you slowly, painfully crept down there.

You and Frank had almost reached his car, but you held him back. You were stubborn about waiting on Ben, even considered going back for him.

That was when the shot rang out, hitting Frank point blank in the chest.

Before you could even bend to help him, you were taken, dragged back into the building, and knocked out before you could take your captor’s gun.

You tried in vain to wipe away fresh tears while you retold the story.

Bottom line: Frank’s death was your fault. Though while he frowned in disappointment, Ben didn’t seem to hold it against you.

“Good on ya, Frank,” Ben murmured. “You went down fucking swingin’.”

“What about you? What happened with Black Noir?” you asked after a moment. Sniffling, you met Ben’s eyes.

He eventually told you about the strange gun Vought had commissioned just for him. And the more you listened, the deeper your frown became. It sounded impossible.

“Makes you wonder what else they’ve been cooking up in that lab,” you muttered.

“Other than Noir?” Ben quipped. He told you about that too.

“We can figure this out,” you said. “If nothing else, my team, the CIA, they’re looking for both of us…if for different reasons.”

Ben scoffed at that. “A silver lining there. Make no mistake, we’re getting the fuck out of here. Just…need a minute to think.”

But he was starting to wane. It was taking all his energy to concentrate on your voice, to even keep his eyes open. The steady stream of gas being pumped into his cell made it damn near impossible, and it was frustrating beyond belief.

Because if he fell asleep now, there was no telling when he’d wake up. And fuck if Ben would ever admit to the panic he felt welling up into his chest.

“Aaah, fuck!” he growled, pounding a fist against the wall.

You noticed, biting your lip in concern…until an idea made you smile. It was something you used to do to distract your sister when she was little.

“Why are colds bad criminals?” you asked.

Ben just blinked at you. “What?”

He asked not because he understood what you were doing, but because he was genuinely confused.

“Because they’re easy to catch,” you said, making a drumming motion with your hands. “Buddum-ch.”

Your neighbor just stared back at you, unimpressed.

“Okay, not a fan of that one. Let me see…okay,” you raised a finger. “What does a baby computer call its father?”

Ben’s eyes narrowed, like he couldn’t tell if you were serious.

“Data!” you said, biting your lip at an embarrassed smile. It curved Ben’s lips, but he was stubborn.

“Why was 6 afraid of 7?” you asked.

“Jesus Christ, enough…” he muttered.

“Because 7’s a dick, that’s why,” you said. And your straight face lasted for all of three seconds before you ended up giggling. It hurt your bruised body, but it lightened you to see the reluctant smile tug its way onto Ben’s face.

“All right,” he said at last. He briefly closed his eyes, trying to remember a joke he’d heard Loco tell. “How do you make a pool table laugh?”

You smiled. “How?”

“Tickle its balls,” Ben said. Your answering snort deepened his smile into a smirk.

“Playing bridge is just like sex,” you said. Ben shook his head. His grandmother used to play fucking bridge.

But regardless, he took the bait.

“How’s that?”

“If you don’t have a good partner, you better have a good hand,” you said with a smirk.

Ben made a sound of amusement, though it wasn’t quite a laugh. You traded these back and forth, each trying to make the other crack with progressively dirtier jokes (though you suspected Ben was just trying to disgust you).

You considered yourself the winner when Ben finally chortled a deep, belly laugh that showed his charming smile.

It made you smile in return.

Ben rested a hand on his chest, but when his mirth died down, he realized just how tired he was. Still, he wasn’t ready to let go of this. His connection with you tethered him to reality, even if reality sucked dick right now.

His gaze met yours. “Why don’t you sing something, crooner?”

You bit your lip once again. “Like what?”

Ben’s eyes closed.

“You know the one,” he said. A softer smile graced your lips, though he couldn’t see it.

“You’re getting sentimental in your old age,” you teased. He chuckled.

“Just sing, for fuck’s sake.”

His brows were knitted, like he was trying all he could to stay awake. You took pity on him.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say…” you began to sing softly. “If I didn’t care…would I feel this way?”

Every extended note was painful, but it was worth it to see his face relax.

Stan Edgar’s lips pursed, and he set down his cell phone on his desk. Victoria was screening his calls.

Disappointing, he thought, but not unexpected. He surveyed the cleanup crew wiping up debris, glass, and blood from the lounge area with a dispassionate gaze.

This was going to take a while.

So after drumming his fingers on the mahogany surface, Stan decided to push up from his desk and head downstairs via the elevator. It took him all the way down to Level 0, the home of one of Vought’s most secure R&D labs.

There his most trusted scientist, Dr. Tonya Baker, was at the helm with her team at work on various projects. Most of which were not sanctioned by the government.

Stan folded his hands behind his back and reached her side, and she set down a beaker filled with a green, buzzing liquid.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she greeted.

“Tonya, you know what I’m about to ask,” he said. She bobbed her head and turned to face him in her rolling desk chair.

“We’re still working on solutions. Without his cooperation, safely extracting Soldier Boy’s DNA is a tricky thing,” she said.

“You don’t say?” Stan said dryly. “What are our options?”

“Well, needles will only break, as you know,” said Dr. Baker. “The scientists in Russia found that only Soldier Boy is strong enough to break his own skin.”

“And I doubt he’ll open a vein for us,” Stan said, “even if we threaten to put him to sleep.”

He didn’t even think leveraging with the girl would aid, more than complicate their goals. While it was something to consider, Stan would rather find the path of least resistance here. Soldier Boy was…volatile at best.

“How much of Homelander’s blood remains?” he asked.

“None,” the doctor replied. “We used the last of it to clone Black Noir. And a hair sample is not enough to create additional subjects…at the very least, a urine sample. Even Dr. Vogelbaum managed that.”

Stan sent her shrewd look. If only he still had Dr. Vogelbaum in his employ. If only the man were still alive.

What a waste of a talented, resourceful man.

“That will be a problem,” Stan said.

“Not necessarily.” Dr. Baker adjusted a monitor screen at her desk. It displayed the feed from Soldier Boy’s cell.

She pointed to the toilet in the corner of the cell. Then she called over one of her assistants.

“Tell Maintenance to cut the water, and then a section of the pipes.”

AN: Okay. 😅 I know I'm gonna get some mixed reviews on this one (Let me know what you thought!).

But despite the teaser, I think you'll enjoy where the story's headed next...

Next Time:

They wheeled in what looked like a large metal casket. You had only seen one of these in pictures, but it had to be a cryochamber.

A doctor in her mid-fifties accompanied them, giving directions on how to safely enter Ben’s cell. Your eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shouted.

Panic trilled down your spine as the guards fitted themselves with special suits and gas masks. The doctor turned toward you as the guards led you out of your cell and into the hall.

“You’re being transported,” she informed you.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Soldier Boy Masterlist

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#The Lion's Den #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 11 #zepskies writes

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whispering-ways · 6 months

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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾★ falling asleep - pt. 2 ★☾⋆⁺₊⋆

✶ summary: you're mike's babysitter and you spend night after night taking care of abby. tonight you're exhausted and mike's the one taking care of you.

✶ pairing: mike schmidt x reader

✶ tags: no warnings, just fluff :)

✶ notes: a couple of people have requested me to make a part 2, so here it is! hope you guys like it :) i also just updated my Ao3, so please take a look there too <3

Mike felt the sunshine filtering through his curtains before he could fully wake up. Last night was the best sleep he'd ever gotten. He feels a warmth coming from nearby. "Thank God; the heater is finally fucking working," he thought.

He stretched his limbs or at least tried to. Right in his arms is you, cozied up right into his side and head rested on his arm. At first, he tries to pull his arm away, but after a couple of unsuccessful attempts, he accepts his fate and slumps back into the bed.

He racked his brain, trying to figure out how you got into his bed. After a couple of moments, he vaguely remembered how he carried you to bed after watching you fall fast asleep on the couch. At first, he was a little bit shocked that he’d be so forward, but he didn’t regret it.

After all, he wasn’t even able to pay you yet and you still took good care of Abby for him. The least he could do was give you a comfortable place to rest your head. Besides, he’d be lying if he said you hadn’t nestled your way into his heart. You just made his life easier, and he really liked you for that. You gave him peace even if it meant troubling you.

As he glanced in your direction, the gentle caress of sunlight tracing the contours of your face, casting a radiant glow upon you. There you were, serene as ever; he couldn't shake the feeling that he was trespassing upon a sacred moment.

A longing surged within him, an inexplicable desire to cradle you in his arms, if only for the briefest moment until you stirred awake. "Fuck it, she’s already on my arm anyway," he mused. He wrapped his other arm around you, pulling your body mere inches away from his chest.

Nestled against his chest, it felt as if you had found your sanctuary, snug and secure in his embrace—an endearing sight that tugged at Mike's heartstrings. Gently tucking a stray wisp of hair behind your ear, he couldn't help but release a contented sigh, savoring the delightful warmth of your presence.

As he surrendered to the joy of holding you close, a glance downward revealed a soft smile on your face, a tender expression that sent his heart aflutter. If he wasn’t so sleepy, he was sure that his cheeks would be flushed pink.

Nestling his head just above yours, he slowly closed his eyes, settling into the comfort of your embrace. There was nowhere Mike would rather be than right there in your arms. However, he wasn’t ready to fall asleep just yet. After a brief pause, he decided to set aside hesitation and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

He hoped one day in the future he’d be able to do that when you were awake. But that’d be a problem for when the both of you woke up. For now, he was just happy he got to sleep with you and he fell asleep.

He hoped one day he could muster the courage to make a move to do the same when you were awake, but for now, he settled back into his pillow. It didn’t take too long for Mike to fall asleep, a smile on his face that matched yours.

#five nights at freddy's #fivenightsatfreddysfanfic #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #fnaf fanfic #fnaf fandom #mike schmidt #mike fnaf #micheal schmidt #michael schimdt #josh hutcherson #mike x reader #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt x you #𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 fluff #fnaf fluff #mike schimdt x babysitter #five night at freddys

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sailor-aviator · 7 months

Text

Meet Me at the Sea: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: None.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Here it is! The new series that absolutely no one asked for, but I decided to give to you! But seriously, I'm really excited for this one because it's been in my head for months, so long before fanfiction even crossed my mind. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. 18+ ONLY!!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I will be posting updates there as well.

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You had always been fascinated by the ocean, drawn to it really. You supposed that most people were. The ocean was where all life originated, after all, and perhaps there was some innate desire to return to where one once came from. A desire so strong that it was embedded into the very fabric of one’s being to be passed on to future generations.

That’s what you mused, anyway. You, however, had very little experience with the sea, having grown up in a land-locked area of the country. The closest you had ever been to a large body of water was the local lake in the nearby state park. The closest you had ever been to the ocean, were the times you had successfully convinced your parents to take you to the aquarium in the city. You would spend hours there, entranced by the different creatures. You’d stare as the all the fish and different sharks swam above you in a timeless dance that you so desperately wished you could join in. Your favorite part, however, was always the stingray pool. You loved how affectionate the creatures seemed to be, eagerly swimming closer to the surface so that your fingers could glide down their backs. You could stay there forever if the aquarium didn’t have a strict closing time.

Your love for the ocean translated into your every day life too. You had several figurines from your visits to the aquarium, but your prized possession was a stuffed cownose ray your parents had gifted you oh so many years ago that you had affectionately named “Rusty.” This often surprised people, who assumed it would be the porcelain figurine your grandmother had brought back from one of her overseas trips for you

The mermaid was beautiful, yes. Her skin glowed with how pale she was, hair floating like she was still in the water. Her tail was painted a light blue that almost looked silver. You adored the figurine, of course, but she was certainly no rusty.

So, it came as no surprise to anyone who had met you that you chose to pursue marine biology in university. Your parents had been so proud when you had been accepted into Duke University, but they had also been hesitant.

“That’s a long way from home,” your father had reminded you. “If something happens, it’ll be hard for us to come and get you.”

“Your father’s right, dear,” you mother had frowned. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

And you had been. You had never been more sure of anything in your entire life. So, you had packed what you could and your parents drove you out to your new home for the next four years. You had made several friends during your time at school, but the one that stood out the most was Bob Floyd.

Bob was a quiet guy, but he was funny and quick as a whip. You had met him in one of your biology courses freshman year, and you found out quickly that he was also studying marine biology.

“What got you into the field?” he had asked you.

“I don’t know exactly,” you had hummed. “I suppose I’ve just always loved the ocean.”

You turned to him. “What about you?”

“Me?” He laughed. “Oh, I grew up on the coasts. Right here in North Carolina, in fact. My hometown is just a couple hours away from here.”

“Oh, so you’re a local,” you grinned.

“I suppose you could say that,” he smiled.

You two had been inseparable ever since. Well, at least during the school year. You would take small trips with your girlfriends during weekend breaks, only flying home for the longer ones, much to Bob’s annoyance.

“When are you gonna take me up on my offer to just spend the summer at my folk’s place?” he huffed in a laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully at him from where you lay sprawled out on his bedspread, several textbooks scattered around you. Bob was seated at his desk, textbooks also cracked open as the two of you studied for finals. “I’m serious, y/n. It’s senior year, and I’d really like if my best friend would come hang out with me for the summer.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you started, stopping when Bob scoffed, shooting you a scowl.

“You’re never a bother. And where’s that same attitude when you’re over here eating all of my poptarts?”

“That’s different,” you giggled.

Bob glared playfully at you. “I beg to differ. Besides, you’d be doin’ me a favor. I’m always so bored when I’m at home. I could really use the company.”

“Wow, what a ringing endorsement,” you joked, Bob rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it, alright? I want to see what my parents have planned.”

As it would turn out, your parents had planned a trip abroad for the whole summer, and you were left with no other option but to accept Bob’s proposal.

“Don’t sound so happy,” he had laughed. “You love the ocean, and the house is right on the beach.”

“I am happy,” you countered, loading your bags into the back of his car. “But, I’m worried that I’ll just be an imposition.”

“For the thousandth time,” Bob said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “you are not an imposition. My parents love you, remember? Sometimes, I think they like you more than they like me. Do you really think they would have let me invite you if they didn’t? Hell, I had to fight’em to keep’em from inviting you themselves.”

Bob’s parents were a sweet couple. Susan was a stay-at-home mom turned entrepreneur, while Richard was a tech developer, and both absolutely adored their only son. They had latched onto you the second Bob had introduced you to them during one of the home football games they had driven up to see, and now they considered you the daughter they never had.

“How did they react when you told them I was coming?” you asked him with a grin. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Pretty sure there’s a mountain of balloons waiting for us when we get there,” he mused, closing the door to the trunk. The two of you rounded the different sides of the car before getting in. Once your seatbelt was fastened, you looked up to see Bob giving you a peculiar look. You returned it with a confused one, and he looked down pointedly at your lap.

“Rusty does not sit in the back,” you said, hugging the stuffed ray closer. Bob let out a little laugh as he held his hands up in surrender.

“You sure you remembered everything?” he asked you as he started the car. You nodded, shifting in your seat to get more comfortable.

“I’m sure.”

“Alright then,” he grinned, turning to you. “Let’s get goin’.”

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effortandmore · 1 year

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worth all your while (ch.1) | knj x reader

summary: you know kim namjoon from your work, but running into him outside of seoul tips your relationship into new territory and your world upside down. eventually, you wonder how there can be a million ways to say "i love you," and namjoon, a literal genius, can't manage a single one when it comes to you. or: 5 times namjoon can't make himself say "i love you" but thinks you understand him anyway (you do not), and then the one time he gets it right

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: smut, fluff, light angst, au: famous, but not an idol

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol, here are the specific smut tags for this chapter: kissing, penetrative sex, fingering, spanking, sex in an airport bathroom (do not recommend, fwiw)

word count: ~5.5k

a/n: idk what to say! i needed to write a fic for yoongi's birthday, but i can't for some reason, so i'm writing this. i hope you enjoy 💜 i'll update chapters probably weekly, maybe bi-weekly, isn't it fun when some things in life are mysteries? the title is from "static" by steve lacy - i love him. thank you as always to the cabal: @ugh-yoongi, @hot-soop, and @the-boy-meets-evil for putting your eyes on this for me. love you all. this is posted to ao3 here if you like to read fics there.

next chapter

Unpopular opinion: airports are magical places.

You didn’t always think that, but you’ve changed. Opinion swayed. All it took was one delay on a layover in London for you to start singing a different tune.

Seoul to anywhere feels like a long flight lately. You love it there, but getting out, back to where you’re from, takes literal days. The short break at Heathrow is welcome, a chance to move around a little before you get on another almost ten hour flight. It seems like a nothing thing, to wander through the concourses and shops after you’ve made it through the customs check. Each time you’re here is the same as the last. Until it’s not. You’ve done it a hundred times: sniff different scents at Jo Malone, look for a bag you shouldn’t spend the money on at Louis Vuitton, talk yourself out of buying duty-free scotch because you know you’d never drink it in front of your mother anyway… Maybe on the way home, you think (but you never do).

“Excuse me.” You’re staring at the Balvenie you can’t really afford, thoughts drifting, when someone startles you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side.

There’s a man there, right there. He’s stepped up close so that your arms are practically touching. He’s tall, with dark hair under a beanie, an expensive jacket that’s made to look like it isn’t, and his face hidden under a mask that isn’t required here. There’s something about him, even though you can only see a stripe of his face, that looks familiar. For some reason, neither of you move; he keeps staring at the thousand-pound bottle of scotch, and you keep staring at him.

“You can’t drink it on the plane, you know?” You say it more than you ask it, and of course he knows. Everyone knows. But you see the corners of his eyes crinkle a little and you think he’s smiling under the mask. He finally turns to look at you.

“Was thinking I’d get it as a gift,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders.

“Nice gift,” you remark.

“Yeah…” he replies, turning his attention back to the bottle. “It’s pretentious, isn’t it?”

And at that, you smile. “Maybe a little. Depends on who it’s for.”

“No one special.”

“It’s none of my business,” you say, “but I wouldn’t buy ‘no one special’ a hundred-pound bottle of scotch, let alone a thousand-pound bottle.”

The man laughs, and you notice another guy walk up, right next to him. He’s bigger, older, and way too serious looking for your taste. They seem to have a silent conversation and then the would-be whisky buyer turns back to you. “Time for my flight,” he says. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime,” you nod, still smiling even though you can’t tell anymore if he’s smiling back. Can’t hurt to be polite.

After he goes, you realize you aren’t going to buy the scotch, either, and it’s probably about time for your flight, too, so you start the scramble to your gate.

One of the bad things about flying all the time is that you feel like you see more than your fair share of delays. And this trip is no different. When you make it to the gate, you can sense the panic before you even see the notification. There’s a particular brand of hysteria that sets in with people when their flights are delayed, and it’s amplified with inter-continental flights in your experience. All of the things that make airports romantic and interesting are the same things that make people think they can behave any way they want and it won’t matter. It's like upon entering, people think they get carte blanche to be raging assholes to the poor airline counter guy who’s just trying to make sure everyone gets where they’re going and probably only makes enough to barely pay his rent.

So, you know before you’re told that there’s a delay, and you can tell by the level ten panic around you that it’s probably a long one. It’s confirmed when you see the headlines across one of the large televisions at the gate. Big storm off the coast of the Eastern US. All flights are delayed from what you can tell. Yours looks to have a delay of about six hours, but you know from experience it could be more. You’ll just have to wait and see. You’re lucky, you want to get home, but there’s really not a huge rush on your end, so you can wait it out if you need to.

There’s a quiet spot at a gate with no pending flight, near yours and a few of the other gates with international flights scheduled to leave. You hate sitting, knowing you’ve done it for a half a day already and have another long flight (eventually) in front of you, but you don’t know what else to do and at least you have a couple books in your carry on.

Maybe thirty minutes passes of you reading when you look up, just to see how things are settling around you as people start to either (like you) become resigned to the fact that they’re not going anywhere for a while, or let their anger hit a fever pitch with the gate agent.

You see a familiar fancy jacket waiting near the ticket counter, his friend from earlier having an animated chat with a woman who doesn’t seem like she speaks enough Korean to be keeping up. Fancy Coat is watching, looking amused and not chiming in, even though you know firsthand he can speak English perfectly well, and could probably be a help to his travel companion.

Because you’re one of those people who can never do things as subtly as you think you do, you’re caught out—Nice Jacket turns his head and his eyes lock with yours before you can look away; he knows you’re watching. He tilts his head, eyes widening with what you hope is amusement and not terror that you were looking. Slowly, he brings his hand up and waves at you, then gives you a gesture like he wants you to wait for something before he leans in and says something to his friend.

You turn back to your book, embarrassed.

A considerable chunk of whatever willpower you have is used in Not Looking when you hear (and feel) someone plop into the chair next to you.

“Good book?” Nice Jacket asks.

“Mmhmm,” you murmur, trying not to make things any weirder than you’ve already made them by staring. It is, in fact, not a good book. But your colleague wrote it, and he’s the special kind of narcissist that will ask you what you thought of it every day you see him until you provide some sort of satisfactory feedback kissing his ass.

“That guy’s a jackass,” he comments.

And that gets your attention. You turn to him, a little surprised. “You know him?”

Nice Jacket nods, eyebrows raised. “Do you not remember me?” he asks.

“From the duty-free shop?”

He laughs, louder than he means to judging by how he stops himself and looks around self-consciously. “No… I think you’ve interviewed me before…”

Things begin to snap into place rapidly. Because now that he says it, he goes from looking vaguely familiar to being instantly recognizable. You don’t really keep up with him or his music, but you have interviewed him, when your asshole colleague had passed one of his assignments to your desk, assuming you’d “like that kind of thing.”

At the time, you’d tried not to let yourself assume the worst about what he meant, and you did the interview over Zoom with no protest to your coworker or your boss. It wasn’t the kind of thing your magazine usually wrote about, but the article was focused on his art collection, and it gave you a good opportunity to learn something you wouldn’t have in a gossip magazine, and a chance to look good for your boss. The whole thing hadn’t lasted more than eight minutes, professional and easier than most of your interviews. Since then, you’ve been in the same room as him a few times at events you’d covered, exchanged greetings and appreciations on both sides for the article, and obviously, you know who he is.

He’s famous, but not like… idol famous. Stage name RM, he’s a rapper and producer who works with a small collective. You see him in magazines and on TV, his popularity growing over the last few years less for his music and more for his work in art preservation.

“Oh my god…” you say, closing your book and dropping your voice to a whisper. “Kim Namjoon. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Good,” he says with a wink. “That’s the point.” He gestures vaguely to his beanie and his mask and the sunglasses he took off when he sat down next to you.

“How are you?” you ask, because it’s polite, and that’s what you should do, even though you’re not even sure why he’s sitting here speaking to you.

“Alright,” he says, but you notice he seems a little amused.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He raises his hands defensively.

“No, what? Why’s it funny to ask how you’re doing?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything for a second, just watches you with his head cocked. “I guess no one ever really asks me that,” he says.

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

What’s more ridiculous is that you’re sitting in Heathrow having a conversation with this sort of famous person who you kind of know, but not in a “run into you in the airport and have a casual chat” kind of way. Or maybe it is like that, because that’s exactly what happens.

You talk about how he’s doing (pretty well but tired from traveling and ready to be settled in his hotel). Then you talk about your asshole coworker and his not-very-good book. You laugh at a story he tells you about said coworker, and you feel your face heat up when he says how relieved he was that you interviewed them instead of anyone else from your magazine, and how much he’d liked talking to you that day. He’s bluntly honest with you about his preference for doing interviews with Korean-language publications, which you completely understand. He tells you that he didn’t mind doing an interview for your small English-language one because you at least greeted him in Korean and tried out a couple questions in the language.

“It’s my job to make people feel comfortable,” you say flippantly. It’s true, it is your job, and you talk to a lot of sort-of-famous people and their people, so you know that at the end of the day, they’re just people. You get better results and better interviews when you treat them as such. When you tell Namjoon that, you can see him grinning under his mask, you can tell for sure this time by the way the corners of his eyes pinch.

“That’s a nice way to think of it,” he finally says. “It’s good to be treated like Namjoon and not RM sometimes.”

“Happy to be of service,” you say.

Before you can say more, you’re interrupted by his friend, who you now understand isn’t exactly a friend but a manager or a bodyguard or some combination of both. He explains that it’ll be a few hours, that there aren’t any other flight options, and that he and Namjoon can go make themselves a little more comfortable in the airport lounge. It’s spoken like a suggestion, but the way he side-eyes you as he speaks makes you certain it’s more of a directive. Namjoon nods along until his manager tells him, in hushed Korean, that he can’t just sit out in the open talking to strangers.

“She’s not a stranger,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

After a brief explanation that you’re an acquaintance (which is how Namjoon puts it and is a little more generous than you would have been), his manager lightens up, and even keeps his mouth shut when Namjoon invites you to come with them to the lounge. He does, however, insist on walking alongside you when you agree to go with them, making Namjoon walk a little ways in front of you both. Better safe than sorry, you suppose, even though no one seems to be paying any attention to the three of you.

At the lounge, his manager has a brief conversation with the airline employee at the desk, and then the three of you are whisked through the entrance, past the service desk and the bar, and into a small, private room at the back of the lounge. Namjoon puts his bag down and moves to the coffee machine, pausing to ask if you want anything as he fumbles with the stack of cups there. Cute. The professional in you hates that you even had that thought pass through your mind, but the rest of you doesn’t mind. He is cute, he gets paid to be cute (at least partially), he knows he’s cute. You have eyes, so obviously you see it, too.

His manager unceremoniously pulls an eye mask and headphones out of his bag, seats himself in the corner, and announces he’s going to try and sleep and to wake him up if anything interesting happens, leaving the two of you essentially on your own.

When you have your drinks, you pull your masks off, settle into loungers in the opposite corner of the room, and start talking again. It comes easily between the two of you—you’re used to asking questions and he’s used to answering them. He’s going to New York for a “personal schedule,” and you don’t ask for more details because you know he wouldn’t give them to you anyway. His whole face lights up when he tells you about an exhibit at the Whitney he’s hoping to catch, about how he’s willing to suffer through the jet lag for a glimpse at a certain Hockney that he probably won’t ever see in Korea.

Eventually, the tables turn a little, and he starts asking you about your own life. It’s less interesting (in your opinion) than his, but he’s a good listener, and asks good questions. He seems really excited (and remembers, to your surprise) that you’re an arts reporter, asks what you’re writing about lately, asks if you’ve seen anything new that caught your eye, even asks you for gallery recommendations around Seoul. You have a few, and he actually jots down notes in his literal notebook while you speak, claiming he’ll forget which you recommended if he doesn’t write it down. Cute again.

Hours pass, and you’d swear it’s only been a few minutes. It’s been a long time since you talked with someone like this—leisurely, candidly (or as candid as he can be, anyway). You get food brought to you by an airline employee, and you know it’s an upgrade from what’s being served in the rest of the lounge, but Namjoon isn’t phased at all. You suppose this is his normal, so there’s nothing out of the ordinary for him.

“I can’t believe you get special food,” you say when you’ve finished.

“Special food?”

“Well yeah, they’re not serving anything other than soup and crackers out there. Maybe carrot sticks.”

“Oh…” he says quietly, brow furrowed, like he’s really thinking about it. “Do you think I should ask them to bring barbeque to everyone else?” You actually think he means it. So fucking cute, you think.

After you talk him out of wielding his influence, mostly using the argument that it would be an immense amount of work for the airline staff, you settle in again. He produces a blanket from a cabinet against one of the walls of the room, and it’s an obvious sign this whole experience is totally typical for him. When he hands you the blanket, you can’t help it, you smile at him and probably look a little smitten. You might just be.

You offer him part of the blanket, and he accepts, pulling it over his lap and asking you if he took too much. (He didn’t). You talk more, and you feel relaxed with him—it’s so easy to forget he’s who he is and you’re who you are. It’s just like getting to know any other casual acquaintance better except he’s stupid good-looking and you start to notice that your faces are a lot closer together than they started out as you talk about Marci Kwon and the interesting work that the Asian American Art Initiative is doing. It was the last article you’d written, and you’re surprised to hear he’s read it.

You’re saying something about non-hierarchical modes of presenting research in art when you realize he’s not listening anymore, just staring at you intently. You’ve been talking a lot. For a while… Maybe talking too much; maybe he’s bothered.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

His eyes widen like he’s the one who’s been caught-out this time. “I’m really good,” he says, almost like he’s surprising himself.

It makes you beam. “Good,” you say. “I’ve liked talking to you.”

He nods. “I’ve liked talking to you, too. You have a lot to say.”

The fact that you can feel his breath on your face when he speaks makes you certain that you’re sitting too close, that something is happening that probably shouldn’t be. It makes you forget that “you have a lot to say” isn’t always a good thing. You think that everything might sound good when it comes from his mouth, that even the worst insult would trickle out like honey. Your heart rate has picked up, you now notice, and you both keep just staring at each other—you don’t know why you don’t move or look away, it’s like you can’t even though you know you should.

Namjoon’s eyes flick up behind you to where his manager is, and you can hear the man snoring, so you know he’s not aware at all of what’s happening right in front of him.

“They don’t have cameras in here,” Namjoon says. “It’s why we come here.”

You nod, nothing to say to that—you’re not even sure why he said it unless…

“Can I kiss you?”

That is the exact moment when every coherent and rational thought you have ever had rushes out of your brain like a waterfall. You’re not even sure how you manage to respond, but this very cute, very smart, very interesting person has just expressed interest in you of all people, and you’d be an idiot not to say yes.

“Oh my god, please,” you say all in one hurried breath.

And before you’re even finished, his lips are on yours. It’s soft, more chaste than you’d expected, but it doesn’t stay that way when he nips at your bottom lip and licks into your mouth. One of his hands comes to the back of your neck, fingers teasing at your hair and pulling you closer as you practically melt into him. It’s a good kiss, a fantastic kiss, and all you can think is more, more, more as the two of you try and do your best to be as close as you can over the armrests of the stupid lounge chairs.

When you part, his eyes are a little wild, and you think yours must be, too.

“I have to wake him up soon,” he says, looking past you. “It’s almost time for our flight.”

You glance over your shoulder at his manager who’s still totally unaware of what’s happening around him, and then stand, offering a hand to Namjoon, too.

It’s a rare moment of boldness, but something’s come over you, and you’re acting with very little thought as to what you’re doing and how stupid it probably is. “Come on,” you say, tugging him up. When he’s standing right in front of you, you put your hands on his chest and raise up on your tiptoes to whisper, “Let’s get out of here for a minute.”

He wipes across his bottom lip with his thumb, pausing probably to think about what you’re implying, and then he bends to kiss you quickly before he agrees. “Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

It’s not your fault that you know where the ‘family restroom’ is—you passed by it on the way to the back of the lounge and you notice things, you remember things.

You hope he doesn’t think you do this kind of thing all the time, or ever, although you don’t know why you care what he thinks since you’re also willfully oblivious to any looks you might be getting from any passersby who see you tug him into the room behind you.

It’s sheer luck that your go-to travel outfit is a fairly basic knit dress. It takes him no time to have you pinned up against the door, lips on your neck, hand rucking up the front of your dress so that he can get a hand under your tights. God, it feels good. He feels good, large and solid and his fingers… fuck. They’re long and nimble and he’s clearly not new to this, but neither are you, so you roll your hips forward and moan at the contact when he slips his hand under your tights.

“You’re already wet,” he says, surprised, pulling his head back so he can look at you properly, his fingertips skimming between your legs.

You nod and pull him back in to kiss you again—you only know a few things about Kim Namjoon, but you already know you like talking to him, and now you know you like his lips on yours even more than that.

“Come here,” you say, and slide away from the door, pulling him with you so that you can bend over the small vanity where you can see yourselves in the mirror above it. He’s been polite, almost too nice for what you’re in the mood for, and you don’t know if he’ll take the initiative, so you lock eyes with him in the mirror and slide your tights down from under your dress, stepping out of them one leg at a time.

In the mirror, you watch as he tentatively sticks a hand out to feel you again, groaning when his fingertips slide against you so easily. One, then quickly two fingers enter you, slowly moving in and out, and he studies your reflection, like he’s trying to learn what you like. It’s a lot of effort for a one-night stand in a Heathrow airline lounge. He pulls his joggers down; he’s already hard, feels big against your ass and the back of your thigh.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he sighs. It’s apparently not lost on him how you watch him in the mirror, pupils blown, because then he asks, “You want to watch me fuck you?” He winds the fingers of his free hand around a handful of your hair and tentatively pulls your head up so he can look you in the eye through the mirror.

You watch him focus on you nodding and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth; he drops your hair as he stares. He has to know already how much you want it, but he makes you say it anyway.

“Tell me you want to see me make you come,” he whispers into the back of your neck, breath hot against the shell of your ear. Behind you, he’s rolling on a condom that seems to have appeared out of nowhere—you wonder if he had one in his pocket ‘just in case.’

You smirk, widen your eyes, and nod again. “Please? Will you fuck me? I want—” You pause to turn your head over your shoulder and kiss him again. “I want to watch you make me come.”

Holding onto your hip, he pushes his cock, thick and flushed, into you quickly; you don’t have much more time before his flight.

He groans as he starts thrusting, pulling almost all the way out slowly before snapping back into you.

“Oh shit…” you whisper each of the first few times he pushes into you.

Your head falls as he fucks you—It’s so good, he’s deep deep deep, and you feel so full, and you might cry it’s been so long since someone’s fucked you like this… But he wants your attention, so he brings a hand up and slaps you lightly along the back of your thigh to get you to look up.

It wasn’t hard, but you’re barely acquaintances, so he seems to hesitate, looking to your reflection for reassurance. In return, you look him straight in the eye and let out a moan.

“You wanted to watch, so watch,” he whispers.

“Do it again... please,” you plead softly as you raise your head and push your hips back against him.

He lifts the other hand and strikes the swell of your ass this time, harder than the first slap, making you suck in a breath. White knuckles grip the sides of the sink as your skin turns pink, but you’re still smirking and soaking wet, asking for more as he grips your hips to fuck you harder.

“Harder… I need you… feels so good,” you pant.

You move to lean on an elbow and bring your other hand down to your clit. His hand follows yours and moves it out of the way as he leans forward to whisper, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.”

“Then do it.”

Namjoon slows the movements of his hips to focus on you, rubbing circles over your clit with his fingertips and sucking on your neck, right against your pulse point, sending shivers along the length of your spine.

He rolls his hips into her as you grind against him, whimpering quietly, “Fuck, Joon… yes… oh, fuck…” You trail off, not able to focus on anything except his hands and his cock. You don’t even care that you’re already using nicknames with him.

“Finally got you to stop talking so much,” he teases as he works you nearer to orgasm.

You’d laugh, okay with being teased, except you’re practically shaking now, close to release, so he puts more pressure on your clit and moves his cock in you a little less deep, hitting you exactly where you need him each time.

God, you look good together. There’s a sweat sheen on your foreheads, his cheeks are painted with a rose blush, and your eyes are wide, watching yourself with curiosity in the mirror as you start to come.

You’re close, so close, tightening on his cock as he lets go of your hip and puts a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle the loud cry you make when your orgasm hits.

Your cunt pulses around him and he drags his hands slowly away from it and your mouth, back to your hips.

“You ready?” he whispers.

“Good girl,” he affirms as you nod, and that absolutely shouldn’t have you ready to come on his cock again, but maybe you have a praise kink you didn’t know about. You whimper when he starts fucking into you again, resuming his previous faster pace.

It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to come after that, with you babbling nonsense about how good his cock is and begging for him to come inside you. He thrusts into you one last time and releases into the condom, watching in the mirror as you give him a satisfied grin and roll your hips with his.

When he pulls out of you, he drops to his knees and kisses you where he’d left a handprint on your ass. It makes your breath hitch, feels too intimate for people barely know one another and who’ve just fucked in an airport bathroom. But then he pulls you up to standing, smoothing your dress around your legs. He grabs a bundle of toilet paper and hands it to you to wipe up.

“Look at you,” you tease, “what a gentleman.”

He pulls his joggers up and watches you flush the tissue while he discards the condom. You fiddle around for your tights and slide them on under your dress.

When you’re finished, you lean against the sink and watch him—he’s cute like this: face still flushed, hair mussed, and most of all, he looks as nervous as you’re starting to feel.

“I don’t do this kind of thing,” you say. Your voice is a little wobbly, and you wonder where any of the self-assurance you’d had earlier when you dragged him into the room has gone to.

Namjoon laughs, bright and dimpled, before he replies. “Fuck, me either. I mean… people sometimes… know who I am and I have to be careful.” The last words come out in a rush.

“Careful how?”

He looks fully embarrassed now. “LIke my manager is going to kick my ass when we walk out of here and… well, people back home would have a field day with this if someone saw.”

You’re not even sure what to say to that. Because of course you know who he is, you get that he’s famous, but the thought of talking about this with anyone just seems… It’s not like it makes you look very good either, so you’d never. It would be professional suicide; you’d never be taken seriously again. You spit out the next words mindlessly, just trying to make it less awkward. “You think this was the ‘something interesting’ we were supposed to wake him up for?” Namjoon just looks at you like you’re nuts before you both burst into laughter.

When you catch your breath again, you get a little more serious, your voice softer. “I’ll sign something. Whatever we should have done before, we can do it now, you can email me or whatever. God, this is crazy…” You trail off, consequences of what you’ve done starting to sink in.

“Okay… Thank you,” he says. “I hate how awkward this is. I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling a lot more vulnerable than you can ever remember feeling. Is he sorry that you did this together or is he sorry that it’s awkward? You don’t really know. Maybe it’s both.

“This was a mistake,” you say without thinking, and his face falls.

“You think that?” he asks quietly, stepping into your space and reaching out to stroke your arms gently. “Because I really don’t. I know things are complicated with me? But… I liked you when I met you for the interview, I liked you today, and I’d like to see you again. I really wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think anything would come of it. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Aren’t all guys that kind of guy?” you ask, wondering if he’s even for real.

“No,” he says. And you think he’s sincere. “Really. I’ve never done something like this before.”

You nod, uncrossing your arms and letting your hands slide into his. “So, we should go though… You have a flight to catch, and I guess I have an NDA to sign.” You’re trying to tease, but you think you probably just sound fucking terrified.

“Can I have your number?” he asks.

“For the NDA,” you affirm, taking the phone he’s sticking out to you and typing in your contact info.

“And for a date, maybe?” he says. And when you look up at him, he looks bashful, nervous even, as if you could ever say no to this man with a big brain and a dick to match who has just made you feel at least twelve new things in the last few hours.

“I’ll be back in Seoul in two weeks,” you say, handing him his phone back.

He smiles wide at that, and leans in to kiss your cheek. Cute again.

“I’ll call you,” he says eagerly. “And someone will be in touch about the paperwork… Sorry again.”

“Not your fault.” You shrug. “But you should head out first so it looks less weird, probably. I’ll freshen up for a minute and then be out in a bit.”

“Right,” he agrees. “Okay. So… I’ll see you in Seoul?”

You can’t help but be endeared to him; the fact that he seems to think you might actually not want to see him again makes you go all squishy inside. “It’s a date,” you confirm.

“Great! Okay… I’m gonna just… go now.” He points at the door, fumbling behind himself for the latch, like he doesn’t want to break eye contact with you.

“Okay, Namjoon… It was good to run into you and…” You hate that you can’t say anything coherent, your sentence just ending in, “stuff.”

He laughs and pulls his mask back on. “It was good to run into you and stuff, too.”

Finally, he’s got the door unlocked, and before he slips back into the lounge he says, “I’m really going to call you, okay?”

You aren’t sure why, but you believe him when he says it even though you know better, and all the weird feelings you’ve been having about him come together in a bright firework feeling in your chest. Something like hope, maybe.

“Talk to you soon,” you say quietly.

And then he’s gone, and you’re left breathless, wondering what you’ve just done.

next chapter

#bts fanfic #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts fic #bts writing #fic: wayw

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may0tuna · 8 months

Text

I hate you more! Part 3

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!reader

Word count: 737

Warnings: angst

Summary: Reader sabotages Rodrick’s chances with Heather. A classic enemies to lovers!

Author's note: I'm trying to be more consistent in writing, and I'm trying to "plan out" the chapters more? As you may have noticed (or not), I have also updated my masterlist for better reading experience I guess haha I have also started to be more detailed as I can when posting fanfics including warnings and proper tagging lol I'm still new to all of this but yeah :) This chapter's a bit short but I just wanted to get this out so I can start "planning" the next few chapters? lol yeah

Tags: @tomhockstetter7-111 @vihtoriacorrea @sleepyb1txh

Part 1, Part 2

"How do you read this again?" You asked Rodrick while pointing at the word "Sweaty" that's spelled out on a dog bowl.

"Uhh duh, it's sweetie!" Rodrick said confidently.

This is the second day of your tutoring session with Rodrick, and a day before your big test. You had arrived at the Heffleys a bit early so you decided to hang out with Greg and Rowley in the living room when Greg told you about how Rodrick pronounces "Sweetie." You decided to put it to the test when Rodrick came in through the front doors, and you held up the dog bowl and asked him what it says.

You, Greg, and Rowley failed miserably at trying to hide your laughter. It was too much that even Rodrick got embarassed. What's worse is that he doesn't know why you guys were laughing. He taunted Greg, and you decided to step in.

"Alright, come on, Rodrick, time to study," as you pull him by the waistband on his shirt.

"Don't tell me what to do," Rodrick snapped at you as he eyed you pulling him by his shirt.

"Oh? I think in this case, I can," you snapped back at him.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, because if you don't," you paused for a while and smirked at him. "Oh Mrs. Heffleyyyy," you said in an almost sing-song voice.

"Fine fine, you're a snitch!" Rodrick sighed in defeat as he headed upstairs into his room.

"She's awesome!" Greg told Rowley but you didn't hear it because you were already walking up the stairs with Rodrick.

When you arrived at Rodrick's room, it was still as messy as the first time you had set foot in there.

"Geez, would it kill you to clean up in here?"

"Why clean my own room when my mom will do it for me when she gets tired of calling me out on not cleaning my room?" Rodrick said as if he had figured out all the answers to the world. You just rolled your eyes.

"Let's just get this over with."

"What's the rush?" He asked.

"None of your business," you replied. The truth is that you're planning to sneak out later because you heard that there was this party where college students go to at the far-end of town. You always thought that you were too mature for your age so you casually enjoy hanging out with older people. Truth is, you always thought people can see right through your "too cool to be here" attitude and you're worried that people would hate you for it. Maybe Rodrick was right when he said you were only pretending in order to fit in. Did he just figure out your whole double life, the one you tried oh so hard to hide?

The good news is that no one can really tell how old you were when at events like college parties, and you still have your own set of fake IDs from when you were dating your ex. Rodrick didn't ask anymore questions but you can tell that he was curious about it.

"Anyway, let me be frank, you suck at spelling and your grammar is shitty. If I am getting this $100 a week, you need to really mean it."

"Why should I? You're the one getting paid, and if I recall correctly, you lied to me!"

"About what?"

"About Heather!"

"Please, you never had a chance with her!"

Rodrick became silent. His expression pained. You apologized and decided to reach your hand out to him, with the intention of giving him a light tap on the shoulder, but he dismissed it.

"Yeah okay," Rodrick's voice was low and soft. "Whatever," he said after some pause.

He was sitting on the bed and you were facing him, books and notes sprawled out in front of you two. Recently, you've noticed that there's this gnawing feeling whenever you see this side of him, like you want to take care of him. Then again, there is that other side that makes you want to punch him in the face.

"Rodrick," you said softly.

"What?" You detected a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"What if I split the $100? You get $40, I get $60, as long as you take this seriously. And if you take this seriously, we can end today's session a bit early," that last one was for your own benefit.

"Deal."

masterlist

#diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick heffley fluff #rodrick heffley x you #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x fem!reader #devon bostick #i hate you more

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bonny-kookoo · 10 months

Text

Jungkook

𝓘 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾 (say it back) [𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑]

He's the introvert tall guy dressed in black who always picks you up from work, makes sure you drink enough water, and that you stay out of trouble. In a way, some might think it must be tiring to have a partner that's just so different than yourself- but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Tags/Warnings: Girly!Reader, Introvert!Jungkook, non-idol AU, opposites attract AU?, established relationship, Angst, Major Fluff, some drama, Slice of Life (like Good Girl AU for example), mc is kook's biggest simp, kook is kind of overwhelmed by her love sometimes, but it's fine they both cute

Length: No chapter limit set. Story will simply update randomly and focus on asks/requests.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°♡°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

You run into the bedroom where Jungkook is currently playing his video game, barely covered by a towel, hair up in a bun that's pretty much held together only by hopes and wishes.

"Jungkook!" You call out excitedly, and he pauses his game in a well used-to manner, making space so you can hop onto his lap, his controller falling onto the floor as he looses grip on it- more so concerned with holding you on his legs as you wiggle around. "Shower with me." You demand, and he sighs, looking over to his TV screen, inner battle hard to decide. "Jungkookie, please!" You whine, and he plays with his lip piercing.

"You know what happened last time." He worries. "You almost hit your head when you slipped-" He reminds you, but you just roll your eyes.

"There's nothing in it anyways-" You start jokingly, but he instead flicks his fingers against your forehead scoldingly, reminding you that he's not too fond of your own demeaning jokes against yourself, even if you don't out any honesty in those words. "-Kookie please, you've been at it for hours and I wanna have some quality time with my hot sexy anime boyfriend!" You huff, and he frowns a bit at that, confused.

"I'm your what now?" He wonders, and you laugh, running your fingers through his by now pretty long hair. He himself doesn't really know what you see in him- but he knows you love both him, and his appearance a lot, no matter if he just woke up, if he's sick, or if he's looking his best.

'You're like, my biggest boy-crush, ever!', he remembers you confessing to him one night in his apartment as you had shared pizza- just after he'd opened the glass bottle of strawberry ramune for you with one hand. 'like, please crush me with those hands, mister!' you had dramatically whined, and back then, he had taken it as nothing but playful joking.

Oh how dense he'd been.

"No really! You kind of look like Miyamura Izumi from Horimiya-" You tell him, pink sparkling acrylics combing over his scalp in a way that would make him purr, if he was a cat. "-a bit more buff and with more tattoos, but still. We gotta watch that show by the way, it's so cute!" You giggle, and he swallows down his own shyness creeping up. Even after half a year of dating you, he's not yet used to your boldness when it comes to complimenting him. He's not really used to it. Maybe never will.

But then again, he also thought of you as nothing but a hollow barbie doll come to life, in the beginning. Come to discover, you're not at all empty inside- but filled to the brim with color, by now having started to paint his life and even himself in more hues than he's ever really thought existed.

"Please.!" You try again, attempting your best puppydog eyes- though he's a little distracted by your cleavage dangerously exposed, towel hardly holding on. "Oh! I bought a new brand of body-scrub, by the way! Strawberry sugar, the one you said you liked when I first came over?" You remember, and he nods, sharing the excitement a lot more subtly than you, who's buzzing just at the thought of your new purchase.

"I remember that. It smelled really nice- but I thought it was discontinued?" He wonders, pulling out the hairtie from your bun to make a proper one for you.

"Oh it is! It's a different brand this time, but it smells pretty much the same.. and the container is like, bio-something, like, it's not plastic-"

"Biodegradable?" He asks with a smile, and you snap your fingers at him.

"So smart, those glasses really aren't just to look good." You praise, and he chuckles. "Anyway I'll scrub your pretty skin down top to bottom if you shower with me and maybe give me a handjob?" You ask, and he sighs a bit bashful. Sex is a big part of your relationship- you're very open with it, show your love in a more physical way than he does. He's never really been a cuddler, or someone to hold hands with- even kissing in public had been nothing but a myth to him prior to dating you.

These days? He can't seem to escape you- and he doesn't want to, either.

Sex has turned from something.. well, somewhat enjoyable to him, to something exciting and even romantic, even during the most messy encounters. It's like he's gotten a unique craving just for the taste of your way of love him- a craving only you can really satisfy.

"I'll even suck you off-" You start again, and at that he averts his eyes, shaking his head with a laugh and red ears, showing clearly that he's caving in, making you laugh as you get up- towel dropping, leaving you completely naked as you run into the bathroom, only turning around for a second to peek around the doorway into the bathroom, bare chest clearly visible as you see him pick up the towel. "oops." You tease, and at that, he suddenly dashes towards you-

easily catching your naked body in his arms as he closes the bathroom door behind him.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine

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raffe156 · 1 year

Text

Playing Favourites

Pairing - Price X MC (Tank) F!reader

Summary - Little fluff drabble that is set the morning after Spoils of war

A/N - Just a quick little thank you and something for you guys to remember its not all doom and gloom for these two! Well it is for the next few chapters but this is set after all that haha also I fully acknowledge Rudy and Alejandro being an item end of :)

I really appreciate all the recent feedback and asks! Please keep em coming! It only spurs me on haha

Warnings - Under 18+ DNI, angst, Smut, (If you squint) Language,fluff, Age gap Relationship, Price (41) reader (Tank, 26),domestic fluff

Tags: @irnbru32 @shuttlelauncher81 @mildlyhopeless @mentallynot-here @deadbranch @soapyghost

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank, Luke, Dredd and Mckinley

Masterlist link here

Price woke to an empty bed, which wouldn’t have normally bothered him at all, but that was before you.

He stretched, his hand finding the warmth you had left, he buried his face on your side of the pillow you shared most nights, the smell of your skin filled his head. He vaguely remembered you kissing him goodbye before you left to get back to your side of the base before everyone was fully awake. He could of happily gone back to sleep, but the sooner he got dressed the sooner he could be in your company again. As he got ready he thought about mentioning you two going on a date when back home, he was thinking about the places he could take you, trying to remember your favourite foods, he knew there wasn't much you didnt like! He remembered you liked the food he had cooked for you that time you came to stay for the weekend with Kyle a year ago, Price didnt like to think about that weekend very often, it had broken up your team, it made you into strangers torn apart, it was the start of a very bad year for all involved, a year he would rather put behind him, so he did or at least he tired.

**********

As he walked out into the main part of the base he couldn’t help scanning the huge bunker for your face, listening for your laugh. Which had to be his favourite sound, well that an when he had you in bed and did that thing you liked were he…

“John!”

He was caught of guard and pulled from his train of thought by Laswell calling him from across the base. She waved him over, he still took a few glances round looking for you, he would find you, he always did.

“Laswell, what can I do for you?”

“John, was starting to worry about you, it's 8am an I'm only just seeing you now?” Laswell cocked her eyebrow at him.

“Had a little lie in, needed it” he wasn’t lying.

Kate looked him up an down, he didn’t look tired if anything this was the best he had looked in a long time she had a sneaky suspicion a certain sergeant had something to do with it, but she kept that to herself. She just hoped that he knew what he was getting into.

“Fair enough, anyway we have a quick briefing later today with Colonel Shepherd, he just wants an update on things you know the drill” she started walking Price followed.

“No problem, who needs to be there, I’ll make sure to wrangle my lot” Price chucked wrangle was the perfect term.

“Just you will do, but if your guys can go meet Shepard’s team that would be great, little playdate” Kate laughed.

“Sure I’ll tell them to play nice”

Laswell smiled, Price looked distracted his mind was obviously somewhere else.

“Lost something John?” She knew what he was looking for, better yet who he was looking for.

“What? No…just wondering where my lot are actually, not checked in with them yet” he motioned for them to walk out onto the tarmac.

Laswell followed she had to hide the smirk, John Price was smitten.

As they walked out of the huge hanger doors, the hot sun in their eyes a yell came from over near the ATV’s. They both shot over a look in the direction it had come from.

Soap was soaked head to toe, his Mohawk flat to his head, jeans now a darker blue.

Where was his T-shirt Laswell thought? Before Price could question him, Kyle came running from behind one of the jeeps also missing his top and also soaked through!

“Haha where the hell is she?” Kyle was trying to catch his breath but his laughing made it difficult.

“Not a clue, but she’s messed me hair up!”

“Serves you right, you soaked her first! Hahaha” Kyle had set off laughing again.

Laswell spotted you first an instinctively pulled Price back a few steps as to not get caught in the crossfire.

You were ringing wet hair slicked back, white vest clingy to your chest, bad day not to wear a bra Laswell thought, but that was probably Soaps motive.

You launched the full bucket in the direction of the two topless men completely oblivious to your presence, in the commotion you grabbed two sponges hitting Kyle with one an Soap in the face with the other.

Before you could get away Soap grabbed you in a headlock pulling you to the now soaked ground a large puddle had formed, water splashed everywhere. You quickly gained the upper hand on soap an now had him in an armbar.

“This is what you get for being a perv! Tap out Mactavish”

“Not a chance lass, was worth it!! I’ll dry you off if you want!”

“Fat chance fairy liquid!”

As you two wrestled on the wet tarmac, Ghost grabbed the hose and started spraying you both like he was trying to break up a pair of fighting dogs, it didn’t stop either of you, if anything you got hold of each other even tighter, Kyle noticed Soap going slightly blue.

“RIGHT PACK IT IN!” Price’s voice boomed across the base causing you both to stop moving instantly.

“Let go of him Tank…” it was more a warning than a request. You did as you were told an released Soap from your grip, slapping him away when he tried to use you to push himself off the ground.

Kyle had gone silent looking at the ground, Soap looked to Ghost for help, who only sprayed him again in the face with the hose. You couldn’t meet Prices eyes so opted for the ground along with Kyle.

“What do you lot think this is a charity car wash?”

“We were just getting the truck clean an it’s so hot so we just…then Soap” Kyle started but was stopped by the ‘not now Kyle’ look from Laswell.

Price pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a loud sigh when he looked up he noticed your now see through top it caused the blood to rush down to his crotch, even though he was your Captain and you weren’t in the privacy of your little bubble where he could openly admire you he was still a man, your top clung to your wet skin, nipples hard from the slight chill from being soaked and the way you were biting your lip like you knew you were in trouble caused a fire in him, he almost wanted to bend you over his knee there and then showing your arse the palm of his hand. But that would be more paper work than it was worth, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Price pulled his eyes from you to look at Kyle and Soap who had apparently started this, Price didn’t know wether to scold him or thank him.

“Go dry off, you lot are going to meet Commander Graves and the Shadow company later and I need you all to behave, think that's possible?” Price glared at each of you. But his eyes remained on you and you could feel the embarrassment crawling over your skin.You felt like a child being told off at school, what made is worse was how he had be harsher on you now, since Soap and Ghost had caught you two in the showers the other night. He couldn’t be seen going soft on you.

Soap had been on the sly tormenting you about favouritism and how even if you threw a grenade into a civilian camp Price would give you a slap on the wrist but at the same time kiss you on the forehead. It was usually followed with Soap doing a terrible impression of him saying “it’s ok kiddo, I’ll make this all go away!” He knew it riled you up an you always gave him the reaction he wanted. Ghost told him to knock it off an that if he didn’t he would happily tell Price that he does a fantastic impression of him. You appreciated Ghost for that, but you had a feeling he thought something not too dissimilar, but he would never voice it he respected Price too much. Was it always going to be like this?

Laswell nodded you off, a silent get going before he has to repeat himself.

“You have 25 minutes an if you are not ready believe me I will come find you myself” Price watched as the 3 of you walked away.

“I'll go make sure the lads don't start again Cap” Ghost followed behind Soap and Kyle. You stalked off to your side of camp. Price watched you for a few seconds, he hated this, hated having to act this way but he was still you Captain and there was still a job to be done, but he made a mental note to make it up to you later. He also wasn't blind to the look Laswell was giving him.

********

The meeting with Graves and the Shadows had gone ok, Graves seemed nice enough. You and Rudy had exchanged a few side glances at each other, but other than that all seemed good. It was now the early evening the sun setting over the base as you all gathered outside under a canopy, getting acquainted. Kyle spent most of the evening talking football with one of the shadows who was an Aston Villa fan so you didn't have him to talk to, Soap and Ghost were listening to Graves talk about the last ‘Assignment’ he had been on. Rudy had Alejandro and every now and again you caught a glimpse of something between them a slight smile or wink, it gave you butterflies. You liked the idea that they had each other and if your theory was right and they did, you wondered how they made it work the Colonel and his second in command?

“Tank? Can I see you for a minute?” Price was stood just outside the canopy you were all gathered under. Most of the chatting had stopped and all eyes were on you now as you nodded making your way over to your Captain who had started walking ahead you followed. As you passed him Alejandro gave you a soft smile.

It felt like you had been walking for ages in silence, the sky now an inky blue, you were well out into the desert, still on the base but far enough that no one could see or hear you. Great you thought no one to hear you getting told off.

Price stopped in front of two large rocks, he motioned you to sit down on one and he took the other, he didn't face you instead faced forward. As you sat down you noticed he was tapping his leg, something you had only seen him do when he was anxious which was never.

“Im sorry” Price blurted out.

“What for?”

“Shouting at you like that, I shouldn’t have…there was no need I just…”

“It’s ok, to be a fair we were acting like kids, Soap started it though Kyle told him not to, but he did it anyway and..”

Price cocked his eyebrow at you? You sighed realising you sounded like a kid now telling tales.

“It's fine really, you have to be harsh on me or else it is favouritism” you kicked the dirt under your feet.

“I don't want to be harsh on you Tank, I hate it I really do, that's why I think we should just come clean about us” Price looked up into the dark blue sky now littered with little lights. You looked at him shocked come clean? Was he serious? You jumped up and started to pace.

“You must be mad! Are you joking? Please say you are joking! They will split us up, I'll get put back with Squad 8 and I’m not going back to that shit show! Dredd was the only good thing about it at least I could trust her! But no John I'm not doing that sorry, I'll take all the bollockings you can dish out, I'm not leaving the 141 , not again no…” You could feel the slight tinge of panic in you chest and Price could hear it in your voice. He stood up stopping you by the shoulders.

“Listen to me, I won't let that happen, never ever...I mean come clean to Laswell, Kyle so those closest to us know about us, so I don’t have to be so harsh, they will just have to accept the fact your my favourite” He gave you that eye-crinkling smile that slowed your heart rate slow down. He was right Kyle deserved to know.

“Yeh your right” you looped your arms around his waist burying your face into his chest, he smelt of warm sand, tobacco and kerosene. Price looked down at the top of your head looping his big arms around you in return.

“You know when I was younger, I wasn't afraid of anything, I didn't have the slightest fear of dying, no reason for it. I thought that if I died that was fine by me, I’ve come close a few times believe me Kid, but then I met you and I started to think that, I wanted to survive to live and for the first time, the idea of death scared me” Price looked up into the now pitch black sky.

“What I'm trying to say is this what we have found, I want to keep it safe, but I also don't want to smother it by keeping it hidden, we can do this, others have made it work. Listen I’ve been an idiot before and it cost me a year without you, don't think I could do that again so I want you right next to me where you belong and if that means a few select people know the score then so be it, they will find out anyway when they realise we have the same postcode and the kids come out with my eyes and your hair!” He was laughing now and it seemed to echo into the night.

You were lost for words, too stunned to speak. Kids? Same postcode? Who was this man? Price suddenly felt your silence and wonder had he said too much?

“Ermmm did I go to far with the whole kids and same postcode?”

You looked up at him a little smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“A little, but your eyes? I wouldn’t mind that actually, but my nose…” you winked at him. Price sighed with relief letting out a little chuckle.

“Yeh your nose” he leant forward giving you a kiss. He glanced back towards the base.

“We had better head back before they send out a search party, bet they think your getting a right telling off!” Price draped his arm over your shoulder and started to walk back.

“More like a right good seeing to!” You elbowed him in the ribs giving him a comical wink. He pretended to hold this side laughing.

“That can be arranged? My room lets say about 2am?”

“Yes Sir!” You saluted him as you looped your arm around him.

“By the way what did you mean when you said ‘others have made it work’?”

“Ohh erm well don’t know if you’ve noticed but Alejandro and Rudy are pretty close who do you think told me to bring you out here tonight to talk?�� Price looked out across the horizon.

“Ohhhhhh I had noticed it actually, well if a Colonel and a second in command can make it work then so can a Captain and a Sergeant”

As you both walked back to base linked into eachother Price felt like all his christmases had come at once, you just needed to get through this mission then you could really start making plans, he still needed to ask you out on that date.

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idolatrybarbie · 7 months

Text

odd couple

pairing: established francisco "frankie" morales x reader

word count: 2.5k

rating & summary: explicit, mdni! | frankie can't cook, to put it lightly.

tags: no trigger warnings needed for this one, porn with (little) plot, rated e like woah, frankie needs a win, very unedited as of initial posting, stubborn!frankie, premature ejaculation, handjobs, cumplay, overstimulation, sub!frankie moments, multiple orgasms, spit kink/drooling, #petnames4frankie, praise kink, slight dacryphilia, reader calls frankie "wet" in this idk that might not be your thing i guess. look man it's been a hard week.

notes: it's not wednesday and i am struggling a lil' bit (might make a personal life update soon idk ?) but i am being such a brave little toaster about it! writing this definitely made me feel better. when it comes to music, this weezer song is a little generic within their discography but whatever, i like it. hope you enjoy! also everyone go read @wannab-urs sub!max phillips fic because i say so and it's awesome.

You listen to Frankie move around the kitchen from your spot on the couch, trying your very best to ignore the occasional clang and clattering noise that flows out from the distant doorway. Tonight, he has taken on the task of making the two of you dinner. Or trying to, anyway. You don’t cook much either. Your job, like his, doesn’t lend much time to it. Takeout is more than often what’s on the menu—Burger King, of all things, is his favourite.

You know how to cook though. Every once in a while you have the spare time to whip together something truly delicious; slow-roasted pork belly, or maybe a nice pasta with garnish. Frankie doesn’t seem to know his ass from the oven.

The two of you have had this conversation hundreds of times. You stating that he can’t cook, and him pushing back, insisting that he can. Or he could, before the service stuck him with single meal MREs for a number of years and he lost most of the culinary knowledge given to him by various tías, his abuela, and of course Mrs. Morales herself.

His stubbornness spurs the occasional urge to throttle him. It’s fine you can’t cook, you always tell him. Not like he can’t still learn. Still, he insists, and insists on insisting on top of that.

Honestly, you couldn’t be more of opposites. Even excluding skills of domestic labour, he and you are a bit of an odd couple. Frankie’s an early mornings guy, always, while you enjoy a sleepy Sunday—or just about any day that ends in Y. He hates the horror movies you fawn over, while you can’t stand the nature documentaries and sappy celebrity biopics that he eats up year over year. Frankie is highly detail-oriented, the engineer instinct in him always angling towards rigid preparedness; you’re a bit more goal-focused, letting any plan morph and adjust according to the situation.

Another such cooking conversation had taken place on the drive home after declining Frankie’s offer of McDonald’s for the fourth night this week, and now here you are: listening to the man curse under his breath, muttering complaints from the kitchen as he tries his hand at homemade spaghetti.

The kitchen is silent for a moment. You go back to channel surfing, clicking past reruns of Golden Girls and M*A*S*H*. Stopping at a channel playing the cinematic masterpiece Grease 2, you focus your attention on the open doorway behind you again. It feels almost too quiet…

A string of hushed, panicked curses from Frankie confirms your suspicions. Getting off the couch, you use the soft overhead light to guide you through the dark apartment. Frankie is standing over the stove when you see him, quickly moving away and towards the sink. Water splashes into it, surely scalding as steam rises into the air. Or maybe that’s coming from his ears?

You clear your throat in the kitchen doorway, and Frankie turns to you. His face is slightly red, a silver pot held in his grip by the towel-covered handle.

“Is everything okay?” You already know the answer to that question—aggravation rolls off of him in waves, permeating the space between the two of you like a mirage in the Mojave Desert.

Frankie opens his mouth to respond, but the words never come. He does this a few times, wracking his brain for the proper way to put it as he parts and pleats his lips, living up to his call sign.

Eventually, he settles on, “No.”

He heaves a deep sigh, tossing the pot onto the counter. Getting a closer look at it, you see the charred spaghetti noodles stuck to the shiny bottom.

“Don’t, okay?” Frankie says before you look up again.

“What?”

“I know what you’re gonna say. I told you so, blah blah blah. I know. You’re right. I can’t fuckin’ cook.” The words are rushed, like he’s half-embarrassed to even say it.

You frown, reaching an open palm out to him as you shake your head. “That’s not what I was going to say.” You motion for him to come closer and he does, slipping into your arms as you hug at his tense shoulders. “It’s okay. You can take a class, or we can work on it together. I think that’d be kind of fun,” you say.

Picturing making something with Frankie—maybe bowties and broccoli, something simple—has you smiling into his shoulder. For his birthday last year you made red velvet cupcakes with sour cream frosting. The recipe is a little more complicated, but baking them with him this time is a pleasant idea. You already know he’s the type of person to lick the batter off the beater.

“I don’t want to do that to you,” he says.

You pull back from the hug to look at him, those big brown eyes of his crinkled at the far edges. “You’re not doing anything to me,” you say. “At least, not right now.”

A small smile comes to his face then, creeping and dopey before Frankie gives you a soft kiss at the tip of your nose.

“They should really give you a Netflix special or something,” he says.

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all night,” you muse.

Still in your arms, Frankie glances over at the pot of blackened, noodle-shaped mush. “What are we gonna do for dinner?”

Right now, he’s in the closest proximity to you that he’s been all week. At least, while you’ve both been conscious. Work has you staying later and later at the office these days, while his shifts handling flight operations have him drained, in bed and fast asleep well before you even get home. Tonight is special even if it hasn’t gone the way either of you planned.

You hum, dipping your head to nose at the patchy beard along his jaw. “I’m thinking we skip dinner.”

“Come on, seriously,” Frankie says.

“I am serious.” Leaving a wet kiss on his cheek, you whisper, “Don’t you want your dessert, Francisco?”

A hum rumbles low in his chest. “Of course, but—”

“But nothing.” You move your left hand to cradle the side of his face, his skin smooth under your touch. He leans into its warmth. “I’m hungry.”

You know that he is too. At your words, Frankie practically jumps you, a kiss pressed to your lips hard before your brain can catch up with what’s happening. He holds you in his arms tight, like if he loosens his grip even a bit, you’ll float away. The pair of you move out of the kitchen and back into the living room, the horrible 80’s movie still dancing across the pixels of the TV.

Frankie falls onto his back, bouncing against the couch cushions. The remote is underneath him, the mute button conveniently hit upon his landing. The cheesy show tunes cut out immediately. You move to straddle him as he lays horizontal. Frankie cranes his neck a bit to watch you as you settle over the crotch of his sweatpants. He’s half hard under the fabric already.

Frankie pulls you down into another bruising kiss. You hunch over to meet his lips, his hands circling around your waist. You’ve decided to take the Frankie approach to tonight’s activities; cool and calculated in your plans and decisions on how this is going to go. Grinding your hips down, you watch his face carefully. He huffs out a breath, soft and peppery like the cinnamon gum he keeps in his car.

You reach between your bodies to feel him in his pants. Frankie kisses at your face, quick and sporadic as you palm at him. He moves to lift your shirt off your body and you let him, raising your arms to help him. He tosses the thing to the floor and lets his hands rove over your skin. Continuing your ministrations, you slip your hand beneath the elastic waistband of the grey sweats. Frankie has no underwear on, a pleasant surprise.

“Fuck,” he groans, nosing at your neck.

“What’s wrong, honey bun? Doesn’t that feel good?” you ask, slowly pulling your hand away.

“Yes, please. Do it again?” His voice strains deliciously, the muscles in his arms held taut.

Frankie relaxes only slightly when you return your palm to where he’s hot and achy, cock wet at the tip. You run your thumb along the head of his dick as he pushes his hips up into your touch. You slide the pad of your finger along his shaft, spreading the dampness.

“Aw baby, you’re already a little wet. Isn’t that sweet?”

You start to stroke him in earnest, the tight circle of your hand moving up and down his cock. The movement is a little dry, your skin dragging against the sensitive velvet of him. You push his shirt up his belly, pulling his pants to his knees easily. Then you spit into your palm, jerking him off easier this time.

“Fuck baby. Just like that,” Frankie pants. He’s moving his hips with your hand now, fucking up into it on every down stroke. With your free hand, you prod at the small dip at his hip, feeling the muscle tense beneath the skin.

“Bet you feel so good, baby. Nice and easy for me,” you coo.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, honey.”

You twist your hand at the end of every movement upwards, fingers rubbing over Frankie’s tip as he leaks steadily onto himself. The glide is easy now, lubed with your saliva and his precum. The squelch makes your mouth water as you watch his cock disappear and reappear in the shadow of your fingers.

He puts one of his hands over yours, urging you to go faster. Your hands move together over Frankie’s dick, picking up the pace as the sticky noise turns into a slap with every thrust of his hips.

Frankie breaks pace, stuttering on a caught breath before he spills over your hand and onto his belly. You pause to watch his chest tense and then loosen, his eyes shut tight as he comes down. Raising your hand to your lips, you lick a bit of his cum from the edge of your fingers. It’s the first thing Frankie sees when he opens his eyes again, making him groan. The noise sounds almost painful.

“That was—”

“Amazing?” you supply.

Frankie wheezes a laugh. “Something like that.”

“What about a second helping?”

He furrows his brow, then looks down at his dick. It lays limp and spent on his stomach. “I don’t—”

“Please,” you implore oh-so-sweetly. Frankie sees big eyes batting at him, a twinkle of adoration. The intent behind it is a little more Kubrick, but he doesn’t know that yet.

He can’t say no to you, doesn’t want to anyway. Frankie nods, mumbling a yes at you. His cock twitches with interest when you drag a finger through the pool of cum on his belly and pop it in your mouth. You smile at Frankie as you take him in your hand, strokes slow as he hardens again.

Leaning into his body, you flick your tongue against the shell of his ear. “So, so wet honey. This all for me?”

“Yeah, shit—I can’t,” he mumbles.

“But it feels so good,” you say. “Wish you could see your cute little face. I love seeing you like this.”

Frankie’s face waivers between tightly wound and relaxed in pleasure. You’re using his own cum as lube now, hand practically sloshing across his cock. He tries to keep his eyes open, watching your movements as you sit patiently in his lap, jerking him off.

Your underwear is ruined, the cotton soaked through as you discreetly rock yourself against the rough seam of your pants. You’ll take care of yourself later. Right now, all of your attention is on Frankie. This reward is his punishment. It’s the slightest bit petty, but you can’t let his stubborn behaviour go quite yet. You aren’t an I told you so type of person, but this? This is perfect.

You stroke at him on autopilot, watching the middle distance between the fine thatch of hair at Frankie’s pelvis and his skin coated milky white. He comes with a flinch before you even realize, still moving as he hisses. He’s still hard when he’s done, solid under your touch, so you continue.

“You’re doing so good for me,” you say softly.

“Oh god,” he whines, eyes rolling back.

“Does it hurt baby?”

Frankie doesn’t speak, can’t, nodding frantically up at you.

“You want me to stop? All you have to do is tell me.”

He doesn’t—not with words or the shake of his head. He likes this, and both of you know it. Frankie gets off on the pain, a pleasure so hot that it burns; water blazing to the point that the sensation runs cold, delicate skin held close over a candle flame.

Frankie starts to squirm. You hold him down by the shoulder with your free hand, fingers spread over his overheated skin with a firm press. His whole body is sweaty, soaking a runway down the front top half of his t-shirt.

“Please, please, please.”

He breathes your name, barely getting the syllables past his lips. You never find out what he’s begging for. He probably doesn’t quite know either.

His dick and his mind can’t seem to agree on what they want. You watch this war play out, a losing battle. Every few seconds he presses his hips to the couch, trying to stay out of your reach. Then he slots his hips forward again, seeking out your hand directly.

Finally, Frankie seems to find his words. “Fuck, please. I can’t, I can’t. I’ve got no more, baby, please.”

“One more, honey. You can do that, can’t you? Just one.”

“Mm, shit. It’s—it hurts. It hurts,” he says.

“I know, baby. You’re so sweet for me, so good. I know you can do it,” you assure him.

Leaning down, you position your mouth over him. You let the spit sitting in your mouth pour past your lips, drooling onto his throbbing cock. The saliva slides down his length slowly as Frankie moans at the sensation.

The added slick makes everything wetter, truly soaking as you jerk him off faster. Frankie starts to babble nonsense between short, tripping moans. A split-second decision, you breathe hot air over the head of his dick. The slightest change in contact pulls his third orgasm of the night from him. Frankie cries, groaning loud as fat, wet tears roll down his cheeks. You hunch over him to give his face a kitten lick, collecting them with your tongue.

You let him go when he finishes coming, letting his dick flop against the plush of his tummy. Dragging your own shirt off the floor, you wipe at his skin and clean up your hands before tossing it back down.

Frankie finds the strength to tuck himself back into his sweatpants. He pulls at your elbow, sending you crashing gently into his side on the couch. It isn’t really big enough for the both of you to lay down. You squish yourself against his chest and shoulder, feeling his arm rest over the length of your back.

“How was that?” you ask after a while.

“A five course meal and then some,” he says. Frankie scoffs at himself, like he can’t believe what just happened. “Jesus Christ.”

You kiss his chest through his shirt, his body warm and solid against your cheek. “Nope, just me.”

#frankie morales #pedrostories #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier #*ww

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mummybear · 8 months

Text

My Brother's Best Friend - Chapter One - Unexpected Night

Words: 4079

Warnings: Swearing, Dirty Talk, Attempted Assault (Implied Sexual), Possessive Stiles, Protective Stiles, Grinding, Talk Of Marking, Protective Scott. Think that's it.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Travis(OC)

Summary: Stiles Stilinski has always been your weakness, but since he was your brother's best friend you'd stayed away. When Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills fresh from his time in the FBI Academy something is very different about the boy you once knew.

A/N So hey guys! I know it's been a while hopefully this is the start of me getting back into my writing! We shall see. I really hope you guys enjoy this, any feedback is encouraged as always, and please let me know if you would like a tag as I update.

Chapter 1 - Unexpected Night

I can’t believe this goddamn party is still going on. I am far too drunk right now, I just want to sleep. However, as usual, my dumbass brother is too busy making out with his girlfriend. Don’t get me wrong, Allison is amazing, and I’m so happy for them. They had realised that they belonged together not long ago, after years of dating something happened. Scott didn’t explain it further than saying it was a wolf thing, that apparently I wouldn’t understand.

Mom always tells me never to go home by myself, however, right now I’m seriously considering it. I don’t even know why I came here tonight. It was stupid, they’re all his friends anyway, the great Scott McCall, I’m pretty sure people forget that I even exist. Not that I have any ill feelings towards him, he’s my brother, yes he might be a giant pain in the ass but all he’s ever done is protect me and look out for me.

If I’m honest with myself, I do know why I came here tonight, Stiles is here. He’s finally back from his FBI training, I hadn’t asked Scott too much about the situation, or how long he was back for. In fact I hadn’t even seen him yet.

Yes it’s one giant cliche. I have the world's biggest crush on my big brother’s best and oldest friend. I think I have since I was ten and Stiles was fourteen, I’ve been following them around for the better part of ten years. Before that I’d avoided them as much as possible. Then one day everything changed, as soon as I started hanging out with Scott and his friends, I finally felt like I fit in. I’m not sure what changed exactly, but whatever it was made it easier for me to become part of their group. Scott’s probably everything a big brother should be, and I know if he knew what I felt for Stiles he’d try and talk to me about it. Probably try and make me see what I’m already afraid of, that Stiles and I wouldn’t work.

Not really sure why I’m having these thoughts, probably has something to do with the fact that I’m drunk off my ass, in this random ass house. And while it may not be the best time for it, when I’ve been drinking my mind tends to wander.

After finally traipsing my way upstairs I find a bedroom, one that doesn’t really appear to belong to anyone, at least not permanently. Maybe it’s a spare room? People still have those, right? I close the door softly behind me. I’m unable to find a lock for the door, so I opt to just lay down for a minute or two, just to rest my eyes. I quickly climb up onto the bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I let out a sigh of relief, finally giving in. I close my eyes, hoping that both the room and my head will stop spinning at some point soon. I can hear some kind of arguing going on behind the door, but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, it feels like they’re being weighed down, I hadn’t had a drink in such a long time, but I don’t remember it ever hitting me like this before.

Suddenly there’s the sound of the door crashing open, as it bounces hard against the wall, before it slams closed again. I wince, feeling a throbbing in my head suddenly and manage to wrench my eyes open. However, they snap all the way open in fear as soon as I register the big body standing in the corner of the room. I can feel eyes on me as a tense silence settles over the room. Clearly he knows I’m awake, but he’s yet to make a move.

A sudden sickness overtakes me, when I hear Stiles on the other side of the door, quieter, but still audible, shouting my name, or his nickname for me. Mini or Mini McCall was the go to name for me among most of Scott’s friends. He sounds worried as he calls for me, and my head is so foggy that I can’t concentrate on anything, I can’t even tell if I’m imagining Stiles calling for me, why would he want to find me? He hadn’t so much as texted me since he’d been home, much less tried to see me or speak to me in person. It was strange, almost like he was avoiding me, even Stiles’s dad hadn’t seen him yet.

I clear my throat, testing out if I can speak or not, but the nerves are clear in my every word. “W-Who are you?” I manage to stutter out, my throat a little sore and my voice a bit hoarse.

“Don’t you worry about it, Doll. Just close your eyes, don’t worry about anything, I'll take real good care of you. Go back to sleep,” there’s a clear threat in that deep voice, one that makes me shudder.

I quickly sit up, doing my best to ignore the way the entire room blurs and moves once again. As I try to back myself into a corner, trying to make myself as small as possible. I know it’s stupid, but I also know I don’t stand a chance in hell of standing up right now, I’m scared and drunk off my ass, feeling like a fucking idiot for isolating myself in a freaking bedroom of all places, I should’ve just found Scott, or even Lydia.

He smirks at me as starts to walk closer and I can finally see his face. I don’t recognise him, but that isn’t really a shock, he’s definitely older than me, not sure if he’s older than my brother though. A sickness coats my throat just seeing the look on his face, the sick twisted grin. The door hasn’t stopped rattling since he stepped inside, so I keep my gaze fastened to it.

I’m hoping for a miracle, however unlikely it might be. He closes in on me until I can no longer see the door behind him, because this guy's huge hulking frame is blocking my view of anything but him. On instinct I close my eyes and hold my legs tighter, and I finally let out a scream.

“Stiles!” The scream sounds helpless and terrified as it’s ripped from somewhere deep within me, which makes complete sense, given the current circumstances.

He reaches for me, I can feel his large moist palm as he grips my knee squeezing roughly, trying to pry my legs down or apart, with enough force to leave a bruise. But before he can get too far, the door smashes open against the wall once more, revealing a much more welcome intruder. My heart thuds even harder in my chest, because the guy releases me in surprise and whirls around on my saviour.

I see him then, Stiles Stilinski in the flesh. And what flesh it is, he’s put on muscle lately. Muscle that could rival even that of my big brother, the true Alpha. But this guy is huge and I can see Stiles gulp from across the room, but his eyes harden as the flick between me and the guy who still has his hand firmly gripping my knee.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off of her!” Stiles shouts, taking another step into the room.

“Nah. Not gonna happen.” The guy states with a slimy grin, as his eyes slide over me, making me wish I was anywhere else.

“I said get the fuck away from her. What the hell is wrong with you?!” Stiles growls, stepping closer to this giant of a man. But I can only watch from where I sit, still paralysed with fear.

“Get over yourself, Stilinski, we were just gonna have a little fun. Stop being so hard up, go find your own pussy. This one's mine tonight, maybe I’ll let you have a go tomorrow. After I’ve used her up, such a pretty little body, bet she’s gonna feel real fuckin’ good.”

The words almost make me throw up, but my tongue feels swollen and I can speak. My eyes lock with Stiles for the first time in years as a tear slides down my cheek.

“I’ll make you fucking eat those words, Travis. The only thing you’re about to feel is my fist,” Stiles snarls, “take your fucking hands off of her.”

“Whose makin’ me? Your pansy ass?” Travis laughs, removing his hands and taking a few steps closer to Travis.

Suddenly those deep brown eyes draw me in like never before and my heart stills in my chest. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a few months. The FBI program has kept him so busy lately that we haven’t seen much of him. But still, I could swear there’s something a little different about him, other than his size, but there’s definitely something different about his eyes, something that I can’t quite place.

I can’t tear my gaze away, instead they fall to his lips and I shift uncomfortably where I sit, suddenly a growl tears through the room. My eyes widen and I look to the doorway behind Stiles, expecting to see my brother, but he isn’t there. I swallow thickly as my eyes automatically snap back to Stiles, and I see it, the flaring of his nostrils, the way his eyes are focused entirely on me, then I realise the sound could only have come from him. But he doesn’t share the same wolf affliction that my brother has, at least, not that I know of. How much has changed since I last saw him!

Stiles steps closer, body tense and unflinching. All traces of fear have disappeared from his face. Now he just looks furious, more so than anyone I’ve ever seen before.

“Mate.” Stiles snarls, shoving the guy as soon as he’s close enough, and to my utter shock and surprise the guy slams back into the wall with a crash, leaving behind an imprint of his giant body as he slides down the wall with a groan. Everything happens so fast, I don’t have time to analyse what the hell Stiles meant when he’d growled that one word. But I can’t help but shudder with excitement at the way my body responded.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps hammering up the stairs, and before I know it Scott has Stiles pinned against him, as Liam all but wrestles the other guy from the room.

“Stiles, you need to calm down, breathe buddy. ” Scott instructs calmly, his deep red Alpha eyes flaring to life, like they would when he’s trying to calm the other members of his pack. Something flits across my brother’s face as he relaxes his grip a little. Whatever it is, seems to register with Stiles that other than my brother we’re alone in the room and safe once again.

His body goes completely lax and Scott releases the tight band he’d been holding around his best friend. I can’t help but stare as Stiles staggers towards me. Safe to say I’ve sobered up in the last five minutes.

“Can one of you tell me what the hell just happened here?” Scott asks carefully, but I can’t take my eyes off of Stiles.

“Just give us a minute, Scott. I, um, I think I should talk to Stiles.”

I hear my brother huff out a breath before he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

“I’ll be back in ten if you’re not downstairs before then, we’re going home.” He calls through the door. Then the door opens again and Scott smiles at us both, “oh and thanks for having my sister's back, buddy.”

Stiles turns towards the doorway with a slight smile as his eyes lock on his Alpha, “Always, Scotty, you know that. We won’t be long.”

I finally let myself relax a little when the door closes. Stiles crawls on the bed and sits in front of me. He rests his hand over the reddened skin on my knee, and lets out another quieter growl. “I’m gonna fucking kill him. He won’t ever touch anyone ever again.”

“Hey, I’m okay,” I whisper, resting my hand on top of his, “you saved me.”

He runs a shaking hand through his thick hair and his eyes lock with mine once more.

“I should’ve been here. I’m supposed to protect you, I’m so fucking sorry, Mini. If that sick fuck had touched you…” He sounds so defeated and my heart squeezes at his words.

“You got here in time, you’ve always had my back. This time wasn’t any different, except maybe that,” you giggle slightly, as you nod toward the dent in the wall.

He shifts closer to me and drops his forehead against mine, letting out a contented sigh. I let my eyes slip closed for a second. For once I give myself the freedom to enjoy the closeness, I open my eyes again and those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes are focused on mine. I lick my lips and feel the shuddered breath that escapes his lips.

Ever so gently he reaches out and his thumb brushes my bottom lip.

“You’re so fucking beatiful. Please tell me you feel this, Mini, because you smell so damn good, I don’t know If I’m strong enough to stay away.”

I swallow thickly as his nose nudges mine gently, my entire body practically vibrating with need.

“Y-Yeah, I feel it,” I reply quietly, scared that if I talk too loud this dream will end, I don’t dare to tell him just how long I’ve felt these things though.

“Then we should probably talk. Because I need to tell you some things before this goes any further,” he replies, voice hoarse and strained, like it’s painful for him to speak these words. But then he goes to pull away and all my instincts go into overdrive, and I finally give in to what I want, I clamp onto him and don’t let go.

Nor do I fight the need to keep him close to me. Right where he belongs. My fingers push into his thick hair and I gently tug him back towards me, just those last few millimetres. Until his lips brush mine ever so briefly. He doesn’t even try to fight me, and I can feel the shudder that runs through his entire body when I push him back and straddle his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. I think there’s some kind of trick of the lights because I could swear there’s this purple glow in his eyes for a few seconds before they settle back on brown. But I push the thought away for now, and press myself a little closer. So that every part of our bodies is connected.

“Tell me later, please Stiles, I need this.” I hope I don’t sound as desperate as I feel, Stiles doesn’t move, but I hear how hard he swallows, almost like a gulp as he lets his eyes slip closed. Following his lead I let my own eyes close when his hand cups my cheek, the other hand slips somewhere much less innocent. When he cups my ass his long fingers curl and he squeezes slightly, letting out a groan of pleasure when I grind down against the obvious hardness pressing against me.

Suddenly his lips are on mine, insistent and urgent, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Our lips are in perfect sync, and a shudder rolls through me when his tongue nudges my lips, seeking permission that I happily and easily grant. I’m rocking my hips in a steady rhythm now, and the kiss grows deeper, his fingers dig harder into my skin as he urges me to keep moving.

Holding me as close as he physically can against his body, Stiles sits up, turning us so that my back hits the mattress and he’s hovering above me. He breaks our kiss and I gasp for breath as he drags his lips across my cheek and down into the crease of my neck. He groans as he inhales deeply, “smell so good. My mate. Just wanna mark you up, make you mine the right way.” His voice vibrates against my skin and I shiver as he laps at the soft skin of my neck.

Confusion sweeps through my lust-addled brain at his wording.

“What do you mean?” I ask breathlessly, more confused about his words than I’d care to admit.

Pulling back to meet my eyes he smiles, and ducks his head looking a little more like the Stiles I remember. I cup his cheek gently, urging him to look at me again.

“This is why I said we should talk. I can’t do what I need to. Not without you knowing what you’re letting yourself in for. I’m not the same man I was the last time I saw you, something happened, I just…I don’t know how to begin to explain this.”

It hurts me that he sounds so defeated already, almost like he’s worried about what he has to tell me.

“Don’t you know by now, nothing you tell me will change how I see you,” I tell him honestly, pulling him closer so his body is pressed against mine, and he finally lets some of his weight rest on me.

“I wanna believe you, but I’m scared. This is huge, and I can’t let anyone down, but especially you, I can’t lose you. Especially not now I know what you are to me, not now I’m so close.”

Before I can ask what he means there’s a hesitant knock on the door, before it slowly creaks open. Liam stands there, watching us sheepishly for a few seconds before Stiles growls at him, I can’t help but frown as I look up at my protector. But then I see it again, the purple in his eyes.

The gasp falls from my lips unintentionally and as soon as it does Stiles snaps his gaze towards me. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, his fingers tightening their hold on me and I can only stare up at him.

“Liam, get the fuck out. Now!” Stiles snarls.

“But, Scott said…”

Stiles is off the bed before I can react, when I do finally open my eyes I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Stiles has Liam pinned to the wall by his throat. And Liam is trying to get free, but he’s stuck fast. I can’t help but wonder, how the hell is that possible!

Mouth agape I watch as my brother’s Beta looks over at me, “little help here, mini. Calm your man down, please.”

My man? I inwardly ask myself, we’ve fooled around for all of 5 minutes and suddenly he’s mine. While I can’t fight the pleasure at hearing those words, I also can’t help but fight the confusion, maybe he wants me to calm Stiles down so he doesn’t have to hurt him.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask nervously, looking between the two of them.

Stiles gives a final squeeze before dropping Liam and racing to me, covering me with his body.

“Don’t you dare fucking look at her!” Stiles snarls, his arms shaking as he holds himself above me. “Tell Scott we’re coming and leave now!” Stiles warns in a low commanding voice that sends shivers racing across my body as he carefully tugs my skirt back into place.

I can’t deny the pulse between my thighs, even as I clamp them shut, and the whimper that falls from my lips causes Stiles to stiffen. Before he’s off the bed, practically throwing Liam further down the hallway when he doesn’t move by himself, slamming the door behind him. Before he turns back to me.

“God, please tell me you know what you just said,” Stiles rasps as he pulls me up off the bed and hauls me against his hard body.

“I don’t… what do you mean?” I ask, frowning in confusion, as I try to search his eyes for an answer. I hadn’t said anything… had I?

Stiles whimpers like those words cause him some kind of pain. He shakes his head, running his fingers through the thick mass of hair before tugging at it harshly. I want to comfort him but I don’t know how. Hell I don’t have a clue what the fuck is happening right now.

“We can’t do this. Not right now.” His words sound harsh and bitter, no matter how softly he speaks them.

I stumble away from him, confusion and hurt lancing through me like an actual weapon. I know there’s a reason for this, but it doesn’t hurt any less, doesn’t feel any less like rejection either. Tears fill my eyes, it’s irrational and I don’t feel even remotely in control of my emotions right now, but I can’t stop it, maybe i’m still drunk. Though it doesn’t feel like that’s it. Stiles steps towards me again and I step back, “no, no. Please, Sadie, I want to. But not until you know everything! I swear to you, whatever you’re thinking, we can talk about it. Please, Mini, just trust me.”

Hearing my real name on his lips is so strange, but I can’t deny that I really like hearing him say it.

I feel myself giving in, because as much as it hurts to have him turn me down, he's still one of the best people in my life. And despite myself, I’ve been in love with this pain in the ass longer than I can even remember, he’s yet to let me down in a real way. Letting out a sigh, I know it’s best to give him the chance to explain.

“Fine. Then let’s talk.”

He swallows thickly, as I watch him carefully. Pretty sure I’m not going to like the next thing that comes out of his mouth. He looks nervous and twitchy.

He winces before he even speaks, “I’m sorry. But not here, let’s go home, there’s too many ears here. I swear I’ll tell you everything as soon as we’re safe,�� he all but begs, holding out his hand for me.

Pushing away any and all doubts, I take his hand. Watching as he visibly relaxes and pulls me closer to him.

“Thank you, I promise, I’ll make this up to you,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to my inner wrist. Yet another shiver ripples through my body at the contact that I can’t control.

He keeps me tucked into his side as we leave the room, careful to touch as few people as possible while we walk. When we finally make it outside, Scott’s waiting with the rest of the pack. Stiles looks reluctant to get in the car, judging by the way Liam forces his body closer to the opposite door Stiles’ look had been less than friendly.

He slips inside and I can’t help but squeak in surprise as he hauls me inside with him, not into my own seat but so that my back is tightly pressed against his front, and his arms band protectively around my waist.

“Dude. Come on! Not in my car, she’s still my little sister. Damn,” Scott groans, locking eyes with Stiles in the rear view mirror.

Stiles seems to consider his words before he reluctantly relents, moving to the middle seat before he gently eases me into the seat as far away from Liam as humanly possible. Keeping a hand firmly planted on my thigh, huffing like a petulant child, I can’t help but giggle. It’s almost like he can’t stop himself from touching me. His long fingers tightly curl around my leg, almost like he’s afraid someone will take me from him if he lets go. Taking a deep breath I tentatively slip my fingers between the gaps in his, gently squeezing them, hoping to offer even a little comfort, those big brown eyes jump to mine and he visibly relaxes into the seat.

I look up and catch my brother’s eyes. I can’t work out the look on his face, for the first time since we were kids, I can’t tell what he’s thinking and for some reason that only makes me even more anxious.

Tags: @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @lilulo-12fanfiction @charmed-asylum @defenderrosetyler @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @akshi8278 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp @screamxqueenx94 @brien-odylan @riseandshinelittleblossom @ceceliaking-18 @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @missindecision @chewie-redbird

#stiles teenwolf #stiles stilinski #stiles fic #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teenwolf #teen wolf #stiles and scott #scott maccall #lydia martin #allison argent #liam dunbar #Scott's sister #stiles stilinski x reader #Stiles stilinski x Scott's sister

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jjunsolos · 12 days

Text

15. ; the talk

synopsis - when your best friend dahyun offers to let you stay at her house, you really can’t say no. especially with how things are at the moment. what she didn’t mention is that her little brother lives with her too…

warnings - written,

wc - 513

author’s note - im backkk ! this is probably the shortest chapter of this series😭 and im srry it took so long to update, ill do better😞🙏🏽

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(story under the cut)

(Author’s POV)

It was hotter than usual today. The sun was blazing and there was no breeze to make things better. Yet, Dahyun was still persistent on taking Jungkook to the park.

The two siblings play a round of basketball as they laugh about their childhood memories, they walk around the grass as they talk about what they’ve been up to in life, and they play tag on the playground, acting like they’re children all over again. But Dahyun doesn’t bring up the thing until they’ve settled down onto a nearby bench.

Jungkook lets out an exhausted huff as he sits down on the bench, enjoying the coolness of the shade. Dahyun sits down next to him. She looks around and admires the colorful flowers around them. They’re all so beautiful, Summer is so beautiful.

“Hey,” Dahyun starts, “can I ask you something?”

Jungkook looks at her with a confused expression, but nods his head anyway.

“Go ahead.”

“What… what’s going on between you and Y/n?” she finally asks. The question seems to catch him off guard, considering the way he froze up with wide eyes.

Nothing comes out of his mouth. He’s too stunned to speak. Dahyun decides to add on.

“I mean… you both used to be so playful with one another. Now it’s so awkward and quiet in the apartment. What’s going on?”

Jungkook silently looks down at his lap. How is he supposed to tell his older sister that he has feelings for her best friend? But he doesn’t want to lie to her, either. He’s never lied to her.

“It’s complicated.” he says, running his right hand through his hair. Dahyun scoffs at his response. She don’t believe that shit.

“Alright then. I guess we’ll just have to sit here ‘till you tell the truth.” Dahyun says stubbornly. She then sits there silently, staring at nothing but a stop sign from the street ahead of them. Jungkook groans with a roll of his eyes.

“Why do you care, anyways?”

Dahyun scoffs at the younger before shaking her head.

“I’m not forcing you to tell me anything. You don’t have to, seriously.” she all but grumbles. She’s not looking at him, but she can tell he’s pouting.

Jungkook sighs and looks up to the tree’s leaves. He should tell her. There’s no point in hiding anything from his sister. She’ll find out one way or another. Plus, Jungkook hates lying, to Dahyun especially.

“Fine,” he starts, “I’ll tell you. But don’t get mad…”

They sit there as Jungkook comes clean. He tells her everything. He tells her about the date with Mingyu, the guy at her work, just everything.

As Jungkook ends his ranting, he stares down at his lap, too scared to look his sister in the eye. Dahyun sits there in silence. Everything makes sense. He likes her! She smiles softly and pats Jungkook on the shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me, Kook.”

That’s all she says before standing up with a stretch. And with that, she walks away. Jungkook sits there, confused.

‘That was weird…’

[permanent taglist]

@forever-in-the-sky2 @lil0u0

taglist [open] - (bold = couldnt be mentioned)

@httpjeonlicious @parkinglot-nights @goldenjeonkoo @kissyfacekoo @heartjiminie @coralmusicblaze @ma2893828 @taelattecookie @kekerrreke @teenyfinds @yuayooncrayoon @gigiiiiislife @gimeow @such-a-wh0re @hailey1ynn @survivalistghost @tansyfleurwhisper

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barbiewritesstuff · 1 year

Text

Wife, girlfriend or Whatever: Chapter 4

-- HI!!!! Chapter 4 is finally done omg, I’m sorry if this isn’t amazing, I’m not sure how I feel about it but yeah I hope you guys still like it lol, I will get better for part 5 tho, promise.

Thank you so much @Igg5989 for beta reading this, I cannot do this without you.

TW. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 GTFO, SMUT, p in v sex, oral sex (on both ends)

Previous Part

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2 @feedthemadness-sweetie @ravensmadreads @mslizziesblog @littlebadariell @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rose-sensuelle @whorunstheworldgirls @auntiegigi

(half of y’all didn’t ask to be tagged but you commented on part 3 so I thought you might like to see the update, sorry if not, feel free to ask me to remove you from the taglist)

“So, future Mrs Simpson, where do you want to go now? Back to the hotel?” Beau asked as soon as you stepped out of the restaurant and back onto the street, where the cold hit your face, flushing your cheeks.

“You promised me some window shopping,” you reminded him, following him down the road.

“Right,” he smiled, “Wouldn’t want to disappoint my new fiancé immediately after proposing.”

“I can’t believe you did that,”

“I told you I would make you pay,” he chuckled, “You can take the ring off, if you want,”

“Yeah, I think I might, wouldn’t want it to stain my finger… Green really isn’t my colour,” you replied, turning the ring around on your finger. It felt strange, now that the fake proposal was over and the embarrassment had been washed away, you almost felt a little sad that it hadn't been a real ring, “On the other hand, how will everyone know I’m engaged?” you joked, trying to deal with your feelings in the only way you knew how, by ignoring them altogether.

“You make a fair point,” he said, “Maybe this will help?” he asked, grabbing your hand in his, interlacing your fingers with his.

“It’s a start,” you replied, turning away from him as you pretended to look at something on the other side of the road, “I think New York is growing on me,” you said, taking in the beautifully decorated shop window.

“Don’t fall in love with it,” Beau warned, “NYC is a whole lot further than Santa Barbara,”

“Have you ever been?” you asked, “Santa Barbara, I mean,”

“Once or twice,” he replied, “It’s nice. The beach is beautiful, water’s warm…” he trailed off, “And eighty-third highest crime rate in California..” he added with a grin

“Says the man from Saint Louis,” you scoffed

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s like, the city with the highest crime rate in the US!”

“I take it you’re not coming for Christmas, then?” he grinned

“I didn’t know it was a serious offer,”

“It depends on your answer,”

“Coward,” you poked him with a finger, “Don’t want me to meet your mama now we’re engaged? Why? Is there someone else? OH MY GOD, are you cheatin’?” you exclaimed, the Texan accent you usually tried to soften now coming through with the excitement.

“Damn it you caught me,” he laughed, letting your hand go for a second. Before you could mourn the loss of contact, he snaked his hand around your waist and pulled you closer. Beau planted a kiss on your cheek, the feeling of it so electrifying that both of you paused for a second. You wondered if the gesture had reminded him of the kiss you had shared earlier that evening. It had made him pause, and while at that moment you had been happy the kiss had had any effect at all, now you wondered if it was because of surprise and not because of what you hoped… that he might return your feelings.

Not that it mattered anyway. If he did, you would still be leaving, and he would still be your boss. HR would still investigate and it would still marr your record. Even if he did like you back, nothing could happen. Or that was what the rational part of your brain was desperately trying to make you understand while every other fibre of your being wanted him to never let go.

“HR,” you murmured, quietly enough that only Beau would hear, although if you had to be honest, while the rational part of your brain was trying to put a stop to it all, you were really hoping he hadn’t heard.

“You’re right,” he said, letting go of you, “Although…” he paused, “They’re not…here, are they…”

“Beau,” you tried to warn him half-heartedly

“All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t tell them, if we were a little less … professional,” he said, “Would you?”

“No,” you breathed, letting your mind wander, wondering what ‘less professional’ could mean. Your heart hoped it meant more hugs, and perhaps a few more kisses, but the heat pooling between your legs was telling you it wanted ‘less professional’ to end between the sheets.

“We’re not doing anything wrong,” he tried to reassure you, “We’re just friends.”

“Right,” you shot him a strained smile, “Just friends,” you added, “Just joking around.”

“Right,” he smiled back. Beau looked at his shoes, something he did whenever a situation got more awkward than he knew how to deal with, and then coughed, “I was thinking Madison Avenue.”

“Sorry?”

“Window shopping. I was thinking of Madison Avenue,” he explained, “We’ll take a cab though, I know you can walk on those, but it’s half an hour away from here on foot.”

You hummed in agreement. Beau hailed a cab, displaying the same efficiency he had at the airport. This cabbie, however, was silent for the entire five minute drive uttering only a quick hello when you climbed in and goodbye when you stepped out of the taxi and onto the avenue. While you imagined Madison Avenue to be somewhat impressive all year round, Christmas and its seasonal decorations had made it breathtaking.

Beau walked you down the avenue, past Chanel and Tiffany’s and eventually past Saks department store, its front covered in impressive fairy lights, attracting everyone’s eye. You stood there admiring it for a while, until Beau tugged at the sleeve of the jacket you were wearing and motioned for you to move.

He smiled at you, “Don’t get decorations like that in California, do we?”

“I’m thinking we were ripped off,” you laugh a little breathlessly, feeling slightly silly that you were so affected by little twinkling lights.

“You’d get used to it,” he shrugged, “After a while it just becomes normal. Look,” he pointed at people passing by without sparing a second glance, “The locals just want to go home, they don’t even look at it anymore. The only people stopping by are parents with curious kids and tourists…”

“That’s sad,”

He shrugged again, “San Diego has plenty of nice decorations, you don’t really notice those, do you?”

“I guess,” you admitted, “Doesn’t make it any less sad, though.”

Beau grinned, “I guess I just have to cheer you up, then,” he said, leading you into a side street on your right. You followed him as he sped up slightly until he veered right again and stepped into the biggest Barnes and Noble you had ever seen.

“We have twenty minutes before they close,” he stated, looking at his watch, “Have fun,” he added, “I’ll be getting myself a coffee.”

You smiled and turned away from him, moving from section to section and row to row until the intercom crackled on and a voice announced five minutes until closing time. Gutted that you hadn’t even gotten to the section you had really wanted to get to and find the book you were dying to buy, you made your way to the café to find Cyclone.

He stood off to the side of the café, leaning against a pillar, waiting for you with a cup of coffee in his hands, “Not getting anything?”

“No time, I’ll swing by tomorrow. I have a nail appointment anyway,”

“Oh nice,” he smiled

“It’s not nearby, but I’d do just about anything for Stephen King, even if that involves braving the metro,” you joked nodding towards the poster advertising the book. An ardent love for Stephen King was another thing your father had passed on to you before his passing, and after his death, his complete collection had been willed to you. Sadly, because your apartment was so small, the fifty seven fiction novels, five non-fictions, several short story anthologies and the seven novels written under a pen name, now rested in a dark and dingy storage unit you rented for an outrageous amount of money from a horribly creepy and outrageously rude little woman with a terribly behaved dog.

That was likely the only thing that really made you look forward to the new apartment, the living room was spacious enough to fill it with the shelves needed to host your Stephen King collection and the rest of your books too.

“So,” Beau said with an amused frown, “Catacombs are creepy, and true crime is terrifying but Stephen King is fine? Remind me what kind of books he writes again?”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes

“Ooh,” he said, “Crabby. Drink up,” he added, handing you his half finished coffee, “They were closing up and didn't want to make two coffees.”

“Bullshit,” you called out his lie, “you’ve had too much to drink and you forgot my order.”

“Never!” he laughed, “I don’t get drunk.”

“Liar,” you smiled

“I’m barely tipsy,” he replied with a huff, “I can hold my liquor pretty well, princess. I used to be a frat guy, you know?”

“I fail to see what that has to do with anything, I’ve met plenty of frat boys--,” you said, emphasising the ‘boy’, “-- who couldn’t hold their alcohol.”

“I’m not convinced,” you shrugged, “I say you need to prove it to me. How about a few drinks at the hotel bar?” you offered

“Don’t want the night to end yet, babygirl?”

“Not when I’m having this much fun, Adm--” you started, stopping short in front of a shop window. The outside was dark, decorations having been forgotten, the only sign that Christmas was near being a small pine tree by the window topped with a small golden star but the inside was dimly lit by a small desk lamp by the till where a woman sat hunched over a notebook, furiously scribbling things down. Hiding her somewhat, back lit unattractively, was the most beautiful dress you had ever seen.

It looked very similar to Grace Kelly’s dress in Rear Window, a black top with a white embroidered skirt, made to seem full with a generous petticoat and finished off with white elbow gloves and a lovely chiffon scarf. It looked enchanting.

“Everything okay?” Beau asked

“All good,” you grinned, “Pretty dress.”

---

After a long evening walk in freezing New York, you were ready for the warmth of the Edison hotel, although neither of you were keen to go your separate ways. Something had shifted in the air, Beau’s comment about dropping the professionalism had made the air charged with something neither of you could put your finger on.

“How about we have that drink, then?” you offered, reminding him of his claim that he never got drunk. You had drunk enough at the Rivage, but a small part of you wondered, probably aided by the very nice wine, where the evening might lead if you didn’t go back to your individual rooms.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” he said, his words contradicting his body, leading the two of you towards the lift and pressing the button for the rooftop bar. You stumbled onto the top floor with his hand against the small of your back. Beau led you to a small two person table near the edge, where you had the best view of New York. You looked at the view, the twinkling lights of the city that never slept looking more like stars than cars and buildings. You were suddenly shaken out of your reverie by Beau. He tugged your -- his -- coat off and hung it at the back of your chair. You turned around to thank him, finding yourself inches from his body.

"Oh my God, how are you so warm?!" You chuckled as soon as your bare hand accidentally grazed Beau's shoulder. Although the rooftop bar wasn't by any means warm, the covered portion had been heated up sufficiently that keeping coats, gloves and hats on would be a little uncomfortable, but because he'd been walking around in the snow without a coat, you had expected him to be cold to the touch, if not downright frostbitten, "You're like a furnace," you added.

Beau grinned at you, extending his arms out into a T, inviting you in for a hug. You shrugged his coat off and dived in, making yourself comfortable in his embrace without a second thought, "I could live here," you said, voice muffled by his jumper and the skin of his neck. He smelled amazing, whatever aftershave he usually used had been swapped for something nicer and you couldn't deny it was doing things to you. It was musky and masculine, "I'm sorry, that was a weird thing to say," you mumbled.

"It's okay," he replied, wrapping his arms around you a little tighter, trapping you into him for a little longer, not that you wanted to go. You felt Beau bow down his head, hiding his face into the crook of your neck in the same way you were doing to him, and you wondered if he could feel your lips against his neck in the same way you felt his, and if it was eliciting the same thoughts. You tried to push them away but with no success. If you stayed any longer, you were afraid you might start to kiss any inch of exposed skin you could reach. You were dying to run your tongue against his neck, nip at his jawline, and run your hands against his bare flesh, regardless of the fact that you were in the middle of Edison's rooftop bar, surrounded by patrons and staff but you shouldn't. He was your boss, and would be for another few weeks.

"I'd let you," he added, almost in a whisper. You weren't sure you had heard him correctly. Maybe your brain had made words out of the rustle of a coat, or you'd caught the last few words of someone else's conversation. Unwilling to face reality, you burrowed deeper into him and Beau chuckled, the sound of his deep voice crackling through him like thunder in a way that made your stomach flip. You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the intention to never act on your all consuming attraction flying out of your mind as soon as you crossed his gaze.

While still gentle, his eyes watched you with a sort of intensity that almost made your legs buckle. The strong arms holding you close to him in the hug moved, one came to rest at the small of your back, pressing you impossibly closer, while the other snaked its way up to your hair, his hand leading your head closer to him as he leant down. Beau kissed you, at first tentatively, almost asking if you really wanted this but he gained confidence when both of your hands moved to his chest, holding the crumbling fabric of his previously crisp shirt and pulling his upper body towards you.

The kiss, which had now grown deep and passionate, had short-circuited your brain and turned it into mush. You had all but forgotten the other patrons of the bar, or the taboo nature of your current actions, the only thing you were aware of right now, was the growing need you felt for him.

He pulled himself off of you, coming up out of breath and flushed.

"It's shit, but if you want a drink, I'm sure we can make coffee in my room," he breathed, using up all of his self control not to dive in for a second kiss. You nodded eagerly, grabbing your bag and his coat so quickly you would have laughed and called yourself pathetic if you had had a clearer mind.

You walked briskly out of the bar, Beau following right behind you. By chance, the lift doors opened and three men walked out right as you approached, letting you step into an empty elevator. As soon as the doors slid shut, Beau pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his arms around you and one knee pinned between your legs. He broke the kiss and you whined. Either he didn't hear you or he didn't care, but Beau didn't react, he simply kissed your cheek, going down to your jaw and then down your neck, peppering searing kisses against your skin, eliciting needy moans.

He nipped at your collarbone and you let out a whiny "Please".

He laughed. Beau opened his mouth to reply but the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Just in time, he flew off of you, stepping back into the opposite corner as two elderly women walked in. They stood right in the middle, keeping you and Beau separated. He seemed unaffected, hiding his tenting trousers with his coat while his other hand played around with a packet of cigarettes he had gotten out of his coat. He played nonchalance very well, but you were having trouble. Aside from the obvious flush and heavy breathing, you were acutely aware of your ruffled hair and blown out pupils. One good look at you and the two women would know exactly what the issue was. You weren't sure why you were so concerned that they would know, but your hand came up to smooth down your hair anyway.

Under Beau's watchful gaze, which you could feel burning the back of your head with the same needy intensity he had displayed minutes ago, back when you were alone, you fixed your dress. Tugging at the back and smoothing the area over your ass, you then tried to stand casually, very aware of just how wet you were and ashamed that the women might know that too.

"You okay?" Beau asked, appearing behind you very suddenly. You jumped as he spoke, having bent down so he could speak into your ear, his breath feeling hot on the skin of your neck and fanning the flames of your burning desire.

"Bastard," you replied

"Watch your language, Miss," he whispered so only you could hear. The blush covering your cheeks only intensified and you tried to look down, hoping the downwards angle would hide your flush from unwanted spectators. The lift dinged again as it hit another floor and the doors opened to let in three middle aged couples. A strong hand grabbed you around the waist, fingers spreading wide to get a better surface area, and you were backed into Cyclone's warm and inviting chest. He coughed, you could feel it rumbling through his body, it sent shivers down your spine and you felt Beau smirk.

Then, after what seemed like an agonisingly long time, the lift dinged again. You grabbed Beau's hand behind you and practically dragged him out to his room, only stopping short when you realised he had the keys. He let you in but you barely made it past the threshold before you pushed him against the wall and kissed him.

Beau let his hands roam now that you were in the privacy of his hotel room. His fingers grazed over your legs, following the seams of your dress till he seemingly worked up the bravery to find his way under it. After some brief touches, he found the side of your panties and followed the hem around till he got to your ass. All pretence of shyness flew out the window as he grabbed a handful and groaned into your mouth. His hand flew out of your dress, finding the zip in the blink of an eye and undressing you as fast as he could, letting the soft fabric of your dress hit the floor with a gentle thud. Keen to gain the upper hand again, he pushed you off of him and against the opposite wall, caging you in again. He didn’t kiss you, instead, he stood back a little, admiring the underwear set you were wearing. A lacey red three piece set you wore to feel confident, consisting of a bra, crotchless panties and a garter belt holding up your thighs.

“Fuck me,” he chuckled, “Fuck me,” he repeated, breathlessly. His arms fell by his side as he took a step back to get a better look at the ensemble.

“Happily,” you answered, making him look back at you in stunned silence, like, despite having gotten you undressed, he didn’t expect that that would be where the evening was going.

And to be fair, he hadn’t really thought this far. In fact, he didn’t really seem able to think at all, and he was glad you seemed to be able to. Beau looked at you, feeling very much like he had died and gone to heaven, and watched you frown. You grabbed his tie, dragging him closer to you.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Admiral,” you said in a sultry tone, “How about I fix that?” removing his tie in one swift motion.

Your fingers made quick work of his shirt, unbuttoning it with unparalleled efficiency and then of his trousers, letting the lot fall to the floor right next to your dress. You sank down to your knees and looked up, that simple action eliciting another groan from Beau, which was swiftly cut off when you leant in and ran your lips against the outline of his boxer shorts. His eyes fluttered shut, one hand coming to rest against the wall in front of him in an effort to keep himself upright. He felt your hands bring his underwear down, revealing his length.

You let out a giggle as it accidentally bumped against your lips and Beau looked down, seeing you look up with hungry, blown out pupils and a smile on your face, his rock hard member hiding the centre of your face. You winked at him and moved, wrapping your pretty lips around the tip of his cock and licking the sensitive part of it. Cyclone let out a moan which seemingly spurred you on as you took on more of his cock, til he felt himself hit the back of your throat and your lips wrapped around the base of his dick. You gagged after a moment, tears forming in your eyes and when you came back up, you looked absolutely wrecked.

“Use me,” you whispered, popping him out of your mouth to speak, and Beau seriously wondered if this wasn’t all a dream. His brain didn’t seem to think so, though, because one of his hands automatically moved to grab a handful of your hair. You opened your mouth wide to encourage him, but Beau didn’t need it. Steadying you with his hand, he started fucking himself into your mouth at a leisurely pace, giving you time to adjust to a more comfortable position.

Beau had always thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world, ever since you first stepped in his office, but he had to admit that while you looked gorgeous all made up, there was something to be said for the way you looked right then, with mascara streaking down your cheeks, lipstick smudged, and your lovely manicured fingers holding his thighs as he thrust himself in and out of your mouth at a quickening pace. He was getting closer to his high with every thrust and it took all of his self control not to allow himself to spill his cum inside your mouth.

“Bed,” he said, pulling himself out of your mouth. You pouted but obeyed, jogging over to his king sized bed with an impatient smile. Beau went over to his suitcase, zipping a pocket open and pulling out a condom. You waited for him on the sheets, legs spread open so he could see your aching core.

Moments later, the bed dipped in front of you. He kneeled down between your legs for a second before allowing his fingers to rub against your sensitive nub for a few seconds before travelling down and gathering up some of your slick. He watched it glisten in the yellow light of the hotel room before popping his fingers into his mouth and licking them clean, eliciting a needy moan from you. He then dropped to his elbows, pulling you forward towards his mouth as he threw your legs over his shoulders. Beau gently kissed the sides of your thighs, keeping eye contact with you and smirking when you whimpered and whined. Eventually, after a few more seconds of torture, he parted your lips with his tongue and explored until he found your sensitive nub. Closing his lips around it, he gently suckled, taking care to lick it at the same time until he could feel you getting closer. Your hips bucked in his face, desperate for something more than he was giving you and he smiled against your cunt. Beau held you down with both his hands, determined to have you come on his face and you did moments later with a moan he was certain the neighbours heard.

He let you gently come down from your high before making his way back up your body for a kiss. While all the other ones had been eager and impatient, this one was more passionate and slow, Beau took his time to enjoy how your lips moved against his, how your tongue felt as it battled his for dominance. He lined himself up with you, gently pressing his member into your core. Once inside, he stilled for a moment and then thrust in and out in slow, careful movements. Beau tried to stay concentrated, savouring every noise you made and keen to make this last as long as possible but his orgasm was fast approaching. He lifted himself up til he was kneeling down, his hand travelled to your core, rubbing your clit until he felt you tighten against him, your hand flying to your mouth to muffle the sound of your orgasm. The added pressure sent him over the edge and he spilled his seed into the condom with a loud groan.

Eventually, he pulled out of you. Tying the condom at the base and throwing it out before joining you in the shower, the hot water washing over you as you kissed. You didn’t want the evening to end, but as the clock struck midnight and the day ended with one last Frankie song floating through the open window, you fell asleep, wrapped in Beau’s arms.

He laid awake a little longer, fighting against sleep in order to enjoy the moment a little longer before finally losing his battle and closing his eyes as Frank sang:

"In the wee small hours of the morning

While the whole wide world is fast asleep

You lie awake and think about the girl

And never, ever think of counting sheep"

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #original fic #beau cyclone simpson #cyclone simpson #cyclone smut #cyclone #beau simpson smut #beau simpson #beau simpson x reader

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hanniiesuckle17 · 10 months

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Chapter 70: Boca Boca

A/n: so um thank you to one of my dear readers for making me aware of this. Apparently today is the 1 year anniversary of SMIY and I’m still not fucking finished with it….wow….anyway….happy anniversary guys. Series is coming slowly to an end soon and I’m so glad you guys have stuck with me all this way🥹 I love you guys and hope you guys will stick around after❤️ Tag List is Open <3

Tag List: @ashisparanoid @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagram @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @jeongqin @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @orangegyu @little-precious-baby @raethethey @sofie296 @love-letters-2-jisungie @bluejayboys @bunnyjaycheoluwu @mingiholic @doom-fics @justhere4kpop

SMIY Tag List: @sanccharine @txt-yaomi @lyramundana @pink-hwaberry @butterfliesinthenightsky @billboard-singer @exololyunho @atinytinaa @honeyhotteoks @hijeongguk @aloverga @aestheticsluut @hwaightme @layzfeelit @honey-lemon-goose @alyssajavenss @minkyuncutie @yunho-1999 @lonewolfjinji @mrowwww @bxffietheblxxdy @soupbinlily @hwakay329 @pariissleepy

Pairing: Jeong Yunho × Reader

Genre: Series, Fluff, Angst, Comedy, Idol au, Secret Relationship

Updates: Wednesday 8 PM CDT (Hopefully)

Warnings: Cursing, Privacy Invasion, Dieting, Overworking, 18+ Themes (eventually), Intense threats, Mention of suicide, Mention of violence

Summary: Privacy. Normalcy. Love. Y/n was ready to give all of that up when she became an idol. She was more than happy with the absence of those qualities in her life until a certain six foot mountain of sunshine and chaos was cast opposite her in her first drama. Confronted with the fact that she no longer knows what she wants; Y/n must decide if he's truly worth giving up the life she's dreamed of... and how much damage she'll let happen before she makes a decision.

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n0v4t33z · 7 months

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Dark Desires: Chapter III - Malice In Wonderland

Pairings: VampireCatHybrid~Seonghwa x Female Reader, VampireCatHybrid~Ateez x Female Reader

Genre: Horror, Angst, Romance, Vampire Ateez, Paranormal?

Word Count: 11.1 k

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Violence, Language, mentions blood, Magic, Fantasy, Some Fluff, Highly Suggestive at times (This is a warning for the whole story overall)

Chapter specific: Non sexual nudity, death, kidnapping, lying and manipulation, suggestive, violence, themes of horror, hints at rocky relationship with parents (Will update if more come up)

Author's Note💌: Hi! Honestly I didn't think I was going to be able to make the Monday deadline because I was editing this on tumblr and I lost all my work?? I don't know why, I basically lost a whole days worth of progress and I had to start all over again which was frustrating but luckily I got it done just in time! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, sorry if there are some parts that are a bit rushed I did try to fix them and lengthen them a bit. (Any mistakes I might have left unseen will be fixed at a later date!)🌙

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It’s been 4 hours since they left and I’m not going to lie as time passes by the more scared and anxious I get. I hope everything goes well. While I sweep the kitchen I hear the door open and a lot of rustling. I set the broom down and head over to the entrance only to see Mingi with a female over his shoulder and she looked to be passed out. Slowly a pit in my stomach grows as I watch him carry her into the chapel like she weighed nothing . Seonghwa sees the look on my face and gently strokes my cheek “You don’t have to do this you know?” I shake my head and I say “No, I’ve got this.” and I walk over to the chapel and see her lying on the floor. She was beautiful, she also looked like she’s a very nice person. I shift my attention over to the guys, I noticed they were very serious, something all too familiar. It was just like when I first arrived here. The 8 vampires stand in front of the woman’s body patiently until a few minutes later that seemingly felt like hours until she slowly starts regaining consciousness. She slowly sits up and looks up at them and screams, a blood curdling scream that jolted me back into reality. The woman says “Where am I?!” Hongjoong walks over to her and kneels in front of her and says “Don’t worry about it, just be a good girl okay?” she begins to uncontrollably cry and panic causing Hongjoong to smirk and extend his hand in my direction “Miss y/n, could you be a dear and please help me calm her down?” I feel so pressured to do everything correctly because while I walk over to that woman I feel everyone’s eyes on me, it was honestly kind of embarrassing. I gently grab her shoulder and kneel down next to her. “Hey, it’ll be okay. Take deep breaths.” I’m so sorry… She nods while teary eyed trying to calm herself down until eventually she quiets down. Hongjoong smirks “Thank you Miss y/n. Now, do you mind cleaning her up? She’s quite dirty from transit…” Hongjoong glances at Mingi only to have him shrug in response. While I help the woman up Hongjoong continues “Yeosang, be a dear and help out Miss y/n we don’t want our guest to try and pull a fast one on us.” He turns to look at the woman with an evil grin plastered on his face. The woman seemingly hides behind me clutching onto my arm tightly.

Yeosang then walks behind me and the woman. While heading up the stairs the woman whispers “Do you know where we are?” I glance over at her and shake my head “Honestly I don’t know. I haven’t been here very long either." The girl glances at Yeosang who shoots her a scary gaze causing her to look forward and quiet down.

Once we arrive to the bathroom I look over to Yeosang “Master, do you mind waiting outside? If there’s any trouble I’ll call you.” he nods understandably but still keeps a stone face and I close the door behind me, the girl then sits down next to the bathtub then I begin to run a bath for her “So, what’s your name?” She looks over at me and says “Sumi” Wow, she's so pretty and she has a pretty name.. “That’s a petty name, I'm y/n.” I touch the water then I look over at Sumi “Your bath is ready” she shyly looks away then I turn away covering my eyes “Don’t worry I won’t look, I do have to stay in here though.” I hear rustling then a few moments later I hear a small splash. I sit next to the bathtub while Sumi begins to wash her long black hair then she quietly asks “How long have you been here? Aren’t you scared of them?” I grab the towel next to the bathtub “Well I’ve been here for about 2 weeks, and honestly I am a bit scared except I just do everything they tell me to do. I try my best to make them happy and in return they’ll be nice.” she looks at me with a shocked expression then says “Have you tried to escape?” I shake my head and I look down at the cat crest on the apron on my dress “Hm, no but I did plead with them to let me leave but it’s no use they won’t let me and in all honesty I just don’t want to anger them.” Sumi reaches over, grabs my hand and says in a very quiet voice “Let’s escape together, they already trust you enough so maybe we can figure out a way to escape." I shake my head “I’m so sorry Sumi but I can’t leave even if I wanted to.” Her eyes slightly widen then she looks at me in disbelief “What do you mean? Didn’t you say you’re scared of them? Now is your chance to escape… We can do this together.” I lean over and I quietly say “ I’m sorry Sumi but I really don’t want to be on their bad side you really don’t know what they’re capable of doing so i’m going to do what they say and maybe hopefully they let me go one day.” I get up and open the towel in my hands “Alright let's get you ready for bed now” I hand the towel to Sumi and while she waits to dry off she brushes her hair and eventually she changes into a night gown I've randomly picked for her. When we step outside, we see Yeosang patiently waiting for us. Once we escort her to the room with the sigil on the door and the floor. She gets into bed and I bring her a tea so she could relax and fall asleep faster. Before taking a sip from her tea Sumi looks over at me and says "Is this poisoned?" I shake my head "Oh no, it's not I promise. I just thought I'd bring you something to help calm your nerves." She looks down at her tea for a bit she then she looks back at me and says "Please don’t leave me here all alone, those guys really scare me.” I sit on the chair next to the bed “Don’t worry I’ll stay here until you fall asleep I won’t go anywhere I promise.”

She sets the teacup on the night stand and shifts her gaze to me “Why are you so stuck on being here? What do you even get from it?” I look down and shrug “I don’t know. At first I hated it here but if I’m being honest I still kind of like it.” Sumi scrunches her nose looking at me like I just said the dumbest thing ever “Why?” I stare at the sigil below the bed and over at the black cat stitching on my apron “I’ve made friends. Unconventional ones but I made them, which makes me feel less lonely than I did when I was living with my family.” Sumi sighs and leans back resting her head on the white headboard behind her with her arms crossed across her chest. “Since when do friends kidnap you and don’t let you go home though..” She’s right.. It doesn’t sound right. The least they should do as friends is let me briefly see my family. After a few seconds of me not saying anything Sumi reaches for my hand and tightly squeezes it “Think about it, we’ll escape together. They can’t do anything to you because you’re their friend. They wouldn’t think of hurting you right?” Mingi didn’t hesitate almost killing me though, what if some of them do feel that same way he does towards me but they’re just really great actors. What if they’re waiting for the right time to kill me? “I mean, I guess you are right. If they cared they’d trust me enough to let me go” A smile paints Sumi’s lips and she pulls my hands towards her causing me to sit at the edge of the bed and her inching close to me. “So are you going to do it?” I look at the ground and sit there silently fo a few seconds until I finally speak “Go to sleep, they sleep in the afternoon then we’ll talk about it.” Sumi smiles and gives me a hug “I promise we’ll escape and we will both go back home.” A huge knot grows in my throat and my eyes begin to sting. I hum in response and blink back my tears. They told me not to get close, but here I am…

Eventually when she falls asleep and I exit the room then Yeosang locks the door behind me “You can go to Seonghwa’s room now Miss y/n the sacrifice will begin at 3:33 which is in about 30 minutes so I can give you a sleeping potion I made the other day in the lab so you sleep right through it.” I hesitantly nod “S-Sure where is it?” he then pulls out a vial from his pocket with light purple liquid in it and hands it over to me “First, get ready for bed then take this it’ll knock you out in about 1 minute while it makes its way through your bloodstream” I nod then I walk into Seonghwa’s room. I look down at the vial of purple liquid in my hand. Should I take it? I should, but I don’t think I can but if I don’t I know i’ll regret it. I change into my night gown then I get ready for bed eventually I lay in bed then I look at the vial. “I need to know what happens to Sumi.” The door suddenly opens and it’s Seonghwa, he walks over to me and smiles “Did you take the medicine Yeosang gave you to sleep my love?” Immediately out of instinct I nod he smiles and gently presses his lips on my forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning princess get some rest, I love you.” My cheeks flush and I nod “I love you too.” he keeps his warm smile then exits and closes the door behind him. I put out the candles and I lay down in complete darkness. If it gets unbearable i’ll take the medicine. I lay there for a few minutes waiting for something to happen then I get startled by a scream and immediately I get up and I slowly open the door and I look over to the room where Sumi is in but I couldn’t see anything. Sumi then screams again but this time she says “y/n! Please help me! You said you’d never leave me!!” My stomach drops and a heavy knot forms in my throat that I gasp and I cover my mouth, my eyes slowly get blurred by the tears. I’m so sorry Sumi, you didn’t deserve this. This is all my fault I’m so sorry.. At this point I hear someone faintly speaking but I couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying. Sumi begins to violently cough and choke on presumably her own blood and I begin to silently cry trying not give myself away. Eventually it grows silent and I slowly close the door and I lay down in bed. While I look up at the ceiling I clutch onto the vial then I take the medicine. For the next minute I lay there crying until I was was too tired to cry.

The next morning I wake up and notice Seonghwa sitting next to me reading a book. He notices I’m awake and puts down his book. I look up at him then I bury my face in his chest, everything that happened last night comes pouring back in an instant. Sumi’s screams echoed in my mind. I try to stop my tears by shutting my eyes “Hey, princess you’re up what’s wrong are you okay?” I manage to get a hold of myself then I pull back slightly teary eyed he then gently strokes my cheek while he looks deeply into my eyes “What’s wrong my love?” I shake my head and I look down “It’s nothing. It’s just- I'm just a bit homesick and I miss my mom that’s all.” I sit up next to him “I’m so sorry, I wish I could let you see your family but I can’t. You’ll be in more danger if you go back now that you’ve talked and seen us.”

He rests his forehead on my shoulder for a second then looks back over at me “Besides you’re safer here than you are back home, I saw the crime rates there and it’s pretty dangerous.” I grab Seonghwa’s cold hands and I gently hold them “I’m already used to it though, I grew up with having to protect myself so I’ll be okay. Can you at least let me tell my mom I’m okay? She must be worried sick, and probably thinks I’m dead.” A hesitant expression grows on his face “I don’t know about that my love.” I’ll do this for Sumi, she’s right. I deserve to see my family at least once. I sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck while I nestle in his neck. “Please? You said you love me…” One of his hands slither to hold my waist and the other one moves to my thigh gently squeezing it, his breathing becoming a bit shallow. I gently kiss his neck while I run my hand down his chest “It can just be the two of us, and you can just tell my parents you’re going to be my husband. You know? To make it more official.” He slowly runs his hand through my figure and pulls me in for a kiss “Well…If that’s the case then it wouldn't hurt to go see them for a little bit, but we can’t stay there for long I don’t want Draven to see you with us..” I gasp and give him a doe eyed look then I pull him into a hug. “Thank you so much! I love you so much I promise this will be the only time I ever ask for anything!” He chuckles and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear “I love you too my love, get ready I’ll wait outside okay?” I nod and hurriedly climb off the bed. It’s scary how Seonghwa is acting like nothing happened last night. Like he didn’t just kill a whole human. Then again, their will to live was probably stronger than empathy, which is scary to think as a vampire being tied down to that monster. I hate to think that if I was put into that position I would shamelessly probably do the same thing.. it most definitely doesn't make it okay though no matter how kind they've been. It's scary to think that if they have to, they will get rid of me whether they're attached or not.

I walk over to the dresser and see the drawer stocked with clothes. After changing clothes When I head over downstairs and see Seonghwa waiting for me by the entrance I see him looking at me with a smile on his face. “You’re wearing the clothes I bought for you.” I smile and lace my hand with his “Of course why wouldn’t I? “ Seonghwa reaches over and grabs his long black trench coat jacket and puts it on. We leave the house and as soon as I step outside the chilly autumn breeze grazes through my skin and for the very first time I notice this is the first time I’ve walked through the front door since I got here. It turns out we’re in the middle of nowhere in like a forest so it makes sense as to why no one even knows about this house. Seonghwa opens the door to a really gorgeous looking black luxury car, presumably Seonghwa’s or one of the guys who knows but it looks really expensive. He looks over at me and covers my eyes “Close them, and don’t open them until I tell you okay?” I put my hands over my eyes “Wait why?” Seonghwa reaches over and gently pats my thigh “Just trust me.” Then I feel the car very rapidly increasing speed until for a split second I don’t feel like the car is moving at all then after a few seconds of feeling nothing the car goes back to driving over the road. “Okay, you can open your eyes now” He gently pats my thigh and I open my eyes, immediately I look behind us and notice it was just forest. I think I just went through a portal. Was that a portal? The more he drove down the road the more I began to recognize the roads and buildings. Until eventually I guide him to my house. We get out of the car and I run towards the door while Seonghwa calmly walks behind me. I run up the steps and knock on the door, a few seconds later my mom opens the door, gasps and I wave at her “Hey mom.” For a few seconds she looks at me like she's seen a ghost and she tightly pulls me into a hug. “y/n! Sweetheart, where have you been? We’ve been looking for you, we were beginning to assume the worst happened to you...” I shake my head "I'm fine mom, I just wanted to come and let you guys know I'm fine and relieve you from that worry." My mom looks behind her as If she was looking for someone and says "Hold that thought-"

She lets both of us in and has us sit in the living room and says “I’ll go call your dad and your brothers, they’re outside in the backyard I just want us to comfortably talk..” While she leaves for a bit to get the rest of my family Seonghwa turns to me and asks “So are you the youngest in your family?” I shake my head “Actually, I’m the oldest.l.” He nods “Ah, I see. Must be hard being the eldest.” I chuckle “Ha, yeah it kind of is. Parents have very high expectations of me which is why my relationship with my father and mother is somewhat strained.” Suddenly I hear both my little brothers run into the living room and I get up and hug them tightly “Hey Kiddos!” then I turn and see my dad entering the room looking at both and Seonghwa and I in shock. I walk over to my dad and wave “Hey dad, um I’m not dead.” My dad gives me a cold stare and says “Where did you run off to? If you wanted to move out you could have told us. You had your mom so worried sick she couldn’t even sleep.” I sigh then I look down at the floor and Seonghwa walks over to my dad and confidently extends his hand and says “Hello I’m Seonghwa, y/n’s husband.” My dad’s jaw drops while he shakes his hand and says “Are you serious? You never talked about dating anyone again. You rarely even left the house when you weren’t at work” I look over at Seonghwa and smile then I say “I met Seonghwa at the store I worked at dad.” My mom then grabs my hands and says “But you haven’t known him very long sweetheart how could you marry him a few months after meeting him?” I shake my head “Actually, I’ve known him for about 3 years, he was a regular at the store.” My mom tilts her head in confusion “You just got out of a relationship a year and a half ago sweetie..” Seonghwa gives my mom a warm smile “We started out as friends but after her breakup she was in bad shape and I kind of wanted to show her that not all men are bad. So, after we began dating we fell in love very deeply, and if I’m being honest I liked her way before we even started dating but out of respect for her relationship I decided not to make a move until she became single.” I nod and smile then my mom says “That’s very sweet of you, not many young men as respectful as you exist anymore sadly.” My mom’s eyes slightly narrow as she walks over to Seonghwa and examines his face a little closer “Sorry for changing the subject, I’ve just been meaning to ask this but how come there’s a wound on your cheek?” Seonghwa blinks, then gently touches the wound on his cheek and responds with a chuckle “Oh uh, her ex and I got into a fight last night..” I gulp and nervously look over at my parents “Ah yeah, it was bad. Kind of gave me secondhand embarrassment seeing him get what he deserved.” But it never happened… "Do you need some ointment for that sweetheart?" My mom gently tilts his head examining the wound "Oh no, I'm okay Mrs. y/ln I’m fine, y/n was kind enough to clean it for me this morning." Seonghwa gives my mom a sheepish smile causing my mom to smile back at him.” Well, you’re very handsome and it’d be a shame if it scars.”

My mom glances over at me gently grabbing my hand “So how come you disappeared without a word y/n? Did something happen?” This is so weird? She’s actually asking about my feelings, did me disappearing scare her that much? Why is she holding my hand? This is so unlike her. I look over at Seonghwa then back at my mom “Well, I wasn’t doing too well mentally so Seonghwa decided to take me on a trip and escape for a bit to gather my thoughts. It was on a whim actually, very last minute. He told me as soon as I closed the store that night.”

My mom reaches over and holds both my hands “Please Sweetie don’t ever leave like that you really worried me. Please, at least next time let us know right away so we know you’re okay.” come visit us at least once a week.” I give my mom a soft smile and I look over at Seonghwa who had a guilty expression on his face. I then look back at my mom’s sad expression, her hair in a very messy bun with dark circles under her eyes. She really did lose sleep over me and I felt terrible for that. Judging from the way Seonghwa looked though I know he felt bad. I gently fix my mom’s messy hair and I say “Actually that’s why I came here mom, I don’t know when I’ll be able to come and visit you guys since we’re planning on moving to Seonghwa’s home town. I just wanted to clear up any misunderstandings I probably created by disappearing on such short notice.” My mom looks down and sighs “You know, you being gone really made me think about how we weren’t being very good parents. ” My father silently stares at me while my mom avoids looking at me “Your father and I have always been hard on you, expecting so much from you constantly, and for that we’re so sorry.. We’re so sorry we caused you to become distant and keep so much from us..” I press my lips into a straight line and reach towards my mom “Mom, as long as you guys realize your mistakes it’s enough for me. I understand you wanted to raise me right, and of course I know I didn’t turn out the way you guys wanted me to but I hope you guys are still proud of me.” My mom pulls me into a hug “Sweetheart, I am proud of you. Your father and I are both proud of you, we just have some demons we haven’t yet been able to face even at our age.” Woah, why is she being so honest? Now I truly do think my “marriage” is what made her realize something.” I understand mom, which I why I feel like it’s best I leave so you can both process that and heal without me being your target. Time and distance cures things sometimes.” I pause feeling a knot in my throat for a few seconds then I continue “So I forgive you, for everything. Now it’s up to the both of you if you want to take the change or not, if not for me do it for my siblings. They need the safe and warm embrace of their parents.” My mom nods holding back tears, while gently cupping my face in her hands “We will try our hardest, not just for your siblings but for you as well. Even though we’re years too late.” My eyes begin to sting from the tears causing me to blink until the tears roll down my cheeks “It’s never too late mom, I just don’t want dad and you to die with regrets just how I don’t want to die resenting my parents. Regardless, I promise I’ll be in good hands.” My parents would freak out if they found out I don’t just live with one but 7 other guys, not to mention they’re all vampires who sacrifice humans to a scary Vampire demon named Draven.

After about an hour of talking to my parents and catching up I look at clock in the kitchen and realize the time. “I’m sorry mom It’s time for me to go.” She furrows her eyebrows “Why so early? You just got here?” I sigh “Well, it’s just that we leave tonight and I’ve got to get my bags ready.” Disappointed my mom hums and I feel my heart sink to my stomach. “Mom. Please take care, I’ll try calling you a few times a week okay?” My mom kisses my forehead she reaches over at the counter and hands me a box filled with sweets she made and says “Here’s some cookies and other sweet things I made sweetie eat them well okay? I’ll be waiting for your call. I’m sorry you have to go in such a rush.” I hug her tightly holding back tears again then I gently kiss her cheek then my dad looks over towards Seonghwa and finally speaks after a while “Please take care of my daughter and treat her well. Me and her might not see eye to eye most of the time but she’s still my daughter and it would wreck us if anything happened to her.” Seonghwa nods and shakes my dad’s hand “Of course sir. I’d protect her with my life, she’s safe with me. Always.” My mom calls both my little brothers to come say goodbye and they tightly hug me “I have to go now, take care of mom okay?” They both nod and walk over to hide behind my mom. I walk towards the door and take one last look at my family “Bye mom, dad, kiddos. I’ll come back when I can okay?” I wave goodbye and walk towards the car with a huge knot in my throat then my eyes begin tearing up and as soon as I sit inside the car I begin to silently cry. Seonghwa gets in the car after waving goodbye and notices I'm crying, there was instant change of expression and he leans over to hug me “Hey, no don’t cry. It’s okay, this isn’t a goodbye you’ll see them one day. When we figure out what to do with the whole Draven situation we’ll come and see them as often as you want. I’m so sorry this is all my fault.” He kisses the top of my head while he gently strokes my hair. while I hold Seonghwa’s hand “No, you can’t help who you fall in love with. Besides I actually really like living with you and the guys, I don’t feel alone anymore. The only reason I’m crying is because of everything that’s happened I really expected to die at one point and all of that led to me wanting to at least make it clear to my family I’m not dead. It didn't help my parents telling me all that stuff made me really emotional.” Sadness and remorse clouded his features “I’m glad you were able to solve things with your family, even if it was because they genuinely did think you were dead which I really am sorry about. I’m sorry about the way we met and how we just kidnapped you like that. I’ve been meaning to apologize but out of pure fear of you somehow hating me I just keep silent.” Seonghwa wipes away my tears then I gently caress his hand with my thumb and smile “It wasn’t the best way to meet the love of your life but as crazy as it sounds I’m glad it happened because for once in my life a tragedy led to happiness and you’re my happiness Seonghwa.” He rests his forehead on mine and says in a quiet tone “I love you so much, your love is so pure.” I lean In and gently kiss his hand “I love you too, I’m glad I met you.”

Seonghwa looks into my eyes lovingly for a few seconds then snaps out of it and smiles “How about we head back home, I’m sure everyone is wondering where we are.” I nod and wipe the remaining tears from under my eyes. During one of the stop lights while I was looking out the window I see a strange ultra pale man with long black hair his eyes looked black and empty like an endless void and he seemed to be staring at me with a very serious and cold expression, not to mention he has painful looking scar over his left eye and a very interesting red jeweled necklace. I slowly and awkwardly look away and I look at the road in front of me. It was probably some weird guy trying to scare people. That’s so creepy.

Eventually we make it home and as soon as I enter the house San runs in from another room and hugs me tightly “Miss y/n! Where did you go!? I was going to ask if you could make me a snack!” Wooyoung then runs into the room panting then says “San I said I’ll cook for you!! Oh, hi Seonghwa, hi Miss y/n I was wondering why I hadn’t seen either of you around.” Wooyoung walks over to us then I say “Oh yeah, we went to go visit my family because I didn’t want them thinking I was dead.” Nonchalantly Wooyoung nods and says “Oh yeah, we kidnapped you I almost forgot about that.” Seonghwa glares at Wooyoung then he nervously laughs and says “Yeah, we’re so sorry about that.” I shake my head “No worries, but enough of that we can talk about it later because guess what I brought you guys from my mom’s house!?” Both shrug while Seonghwa looks at us admiringly and San looks at the box says “What is it?” I open the pastel pink box with cookies and other sweets and smile “Some sweet things my mom made, I thought you guys would have loved to taste it since you guys liked my cookies and sweets so much. So I think you guys will love my mom’s a lot more because personally I think my mom’s are better.” San gasps “Oh! We should! Seonghwa I’m stealing Miss y/n for a little bit we’re going to have a snack!” he links his arm with mine then begins to walk away then Seonghwa says “Don’t worry about having to do anything today my love have fun. San, don’t eat them all in one sitting they’re supposed to last us a few days.” While we walk away San chuckles and says “Okay dad” I turn and smile “I’ll have fun no worries! I’ll bring you blood earl grey tea with a snack later okay?” he nods and smiles then Wooyoung looks over at Seonghwa then over at San and I and catches up to us “Wait I wanna have some too!!” We walk into the kitchen and it looked as if Wooyoung began to work on something. I walk over to the stove then I look at Wooyoung and I give him a smirk “Aww, so you were actually starting to cook for San.” He nods then looks over at San slightly irritated “Yeah, I was going to surprise him but as soon as he heard the door open I heard him running towards the door like a crazy person.” I look down at the sweets box and look back up at Wooyoung and smile “Do you wanna finish that then we can have this as a snack?” He nods and says “I was planning on cooking a dish my mom always cooked for me back when I was alive.”

I set down the box on the table and I sit down while Wooyoung washes his hands “Ohh wow that sounds nice we can’t wait to taste it right San?” San nods giving me a dimpled smile “I’m looking forward to it too since Wooyoung always told me his mom’s cooking was the best.” San sits on the chair across from me while Wooyoung cooks then I fold my hands across my lap then San says “How did it go visiting your mom? Did she freak out?” I raise an eyebrow and chuckle “Uh, yeah she freaked out she thought I was dead.” He presses his lips together then says “Well of course but what I meant is did she notice Seonghwa was a vampire?” I shake my head and shrug “I actually don’t know, she never said anything but I’m sure she probably thought his eye color was weird I noticed she kept looking at his eyes alot she also asked abut the scar on his cheek” Wooyoung chuckles “Well I mean you’re supposed to look at people in the eye when you talk to them Miss y/n. I’ve noticed you don’t really do that you usually look away or look behind us when you talk to people.” I put my head down on the table to hide my flushed face “Do I really make it that noticeable?” San reaches over to me and pats my head and says “You do, it’s kind of endearing though. It shows how shy you are although I’ll give you credit for occasionally making eye contact.” While stirring something on the stove Wooyoung says “ My personal favorite is when you don’t look at our faces at all.” I lift my head and scrunch my nose “Well, I mean can you blame me?! You guys are gorgeous, like seriously it’s kind of intimidating. It’s almost inhuman how beautiful you guys are.” I put both my elbows on the table and I put my chin on my hands and I gaze out the window while a smile slowly grows on my lips “Especially Seonghwa he’s the definition of perfect.” San’s mouth hangs open then covers his mouth then Wooyoung says “I mean I knew I was handsome but I didn’t know we all were.” I clear my throat and I smooth down my skirt then San says “You really think we’re beautiful? Don't we scare you?” I look up for a few seconds while I think then I say “I mean yes, but that doesn’t take away from your beauty. My mom once told me when I was a little kid that vampires lure in a lot of their victims with their beauty. So she definitely wasn’t wrong about vampires being so beautiful.” San smiles and holds both my hands “You’re pretty cute yourself Miss y/n, I understand now why Seonghwa is so in love with you and waited hundreds of years just to be with you.” Wooyoung grabs a small piece of carrot and throws it at San causing both of us to flinch “San stop it, you’re being weird again” San looks over at Wooyoung slightly irritated and says “I was just complimenting her I wasn’t being weird” Wooyoung then turns and looks at San “What do you think Seonghwa would say?” San shrugs then looks over to me and smiles “I’m sure he knows Miss y/n is a very cute human so I don’t think he’ll flip out over a compliment.” Wooyoung leaves the pot to boil and sits next to San and says “What else did you see when you went to your parents’ house.”

I tap my index finger to my chin then I say “Well, my dad was mad at me when he first saw me because I disappeared, I saw my little brothers, and also this is random but I saw a really pale guy with long black hair, black eyes and a huge scar on his left eye. He was staring at me with this really serious and scary facial expression but I think he was just trying to freak me out though.” San and Wooyoung’s eyes almost pop out of their skull then Wooyoung says in a very concerned tone “What was he wearing?” I shrug “Hm, he was wearing all black. I didn’t really pay much attention but he wasn’t badly dressed. I do remember his pitch black eyes, his scar and this really interesting blood red jeweled necklace because it looked a bit dated but those three are what stick out alot why? Do you guys know him?” San and Wooyoung both look at each other in complete horror then San says “We have to go tell Seonghwa and Hongjoong, this isn’t good. He knows.” My heart begins to race and my stomach drops then I get up from my seat not being able to sit still “Wh- What do you mean? Are you talking about Draven?” They both nod then they get up and Wooyoung turns the stove off and says “Stay with Miss y/n, I’ll go talk to them.” San nods and before I’m able to go back to my seat I begin to shake to the point where I could barely stand up San then helps me sit down he then kneels in front of me holding my hands and says in a low comforting voice “We promise we’re going to do anything in our power to protect you.” My lip trembles and my eyes well up with tears then San says “Don’t cry. You might not know this but you’re far more powerful than you lead on, your bloodline will protect you too if anything happens to us.” I cover my mouth trying to keep myself from crying loudly. I don’t want to lose Seonghwa, I love him so much. I also don’t want to lose my new friends either. I don’t want anyone to suffer because of me. Seonghwa and all the guys including Mingi walk into the kitchen with Seonghwa immediately walking over to me taking me in his arms “Please don’t cry, you’re breaking my heart. It’s okay, remember I told you and your parents I’d protect you with my life and that’s what I’m going to do.” I hug him back tightly and bury my face in his chest while the other guys are unable to do anything but silently watch.

“I don’t want to lose you, I can’t lose you. I also can’t lose my friends, and that includes Mingi and Yunho even if they hate me. I can’t lose anyone of you guys.” He gently strokes my hair I then notice from the corner of my eye Mingi’s gaze going from cold to a soft concerned gaze. Yunho then looks over at Mingi then back at me, Seonghwa then says in a low tone “Everything will be okay.” He’s lying, he's trying to convince himself everything will be okay but I have a feeling he’s lying.. I pull back and he gently wipes my tears away “I’m going to be a sorceress like Ursula. I don’t know anything about being a witch but i’m not going to sit here and do nothing and watch you guys get punished because of me.” Yeosang looks over at the guys “I’ll help her. I’ve studied witches before so I have a few books on them.” I look over and see Yeosang give me a shy smile I then say in a barely audible tone “Thank you so much.” Hongjoong then says in a skeptical tone “So you saw Draven today? Why didn’t you tell Seonghwa?” I shrug while stippling my fingers “I honestly didn’t know that’s what he looked like, I genuinely thought it was just some weirdo on the street trying to mess with me so I brushed it off.” Seonghwa looks over at Hongjoong and says “It’s not her fault. It was mine for not telling her anything, for trying to pretend like she didn’t need to know. I’m sorry.” San gently pats Seonghwa’s back and says “You wanted to protect her it’s okay. Besides, she’s not totally clueless. Wooyoung, Jongho and I have been telling her things about the supernatural world and the effect her blood will have on a vampire if they drink it” Jongho then chimes in.” We also kinda told her about our pact with Draven. Don’t get mad, we knew something like this was going to happen so that’s why we just went ahead and gave her a heads up.” Hongjoong stands there for a few seconds glaring at the boys then sighs “I would have been really upset but I mean you guys did the right thing so there’s not much I can do there, thank you for not leaving her in the dark about things.” He then turns to look at me and says “Miss y/n, I’d like to apologize on behalf of all of us for bringing you into this mess. I’m sure you regret meeting all of us.” I shake my head “Like I told Seonghwa earlier, I believe all of this was meant to happen. Somehow though I was able to find the beauty behind the madness, because of you guys I no longer feel alone and sad. The longer I’m here the more at home I feel, you guys are my destiny.” Yunho then says in a somber tone “Aren’t you scared knowing that because of us you’ll be a blood bank for Draven until you die?”

Evreyone looks at Yunho with a very surprised look on their faces then he continues “You know that’s the reality right Miss y/n? If he takes you that'll be the ugly reality you'll have to live. None of us wanted you to see it but you made it so hard because you kept asking too many questions.” I bite the inside of my lip “Well, of course I’m scared but fear isn’t going to stop me from stopping Draven, especially not when the love of my life and my friends are at stake. The reason I was asking so many questions is because of the way all of you made things sound, I had to find out for myself if there was a way I could help.” Yunho quietly nods in understanding and looks down “I honestly don’t know what we ever did to deserve you Miss y/n.” Did he just- Wooyoung looks over at Hongjoong and says “So, what do we do now? Do we summon Draven?” Hongjoong shakes his head while he massages the side of his temple “No, that’s the last thing we wanna do. We’ll have to wait until he appears himself, it’ll buy us alot of time.” I don’t know why but I keep hearing that phrase. Buying time. Seonghwa looks over at the stove and says “You didn’t get to eat did you?” I shake my head and he smiles “You should eat so that cute brain of yours works properly when you study.” He looks over at Yeosang and says “Do you mind staying with Miss y/n for a bit? Maybe you could start teaching her about her bloodline I’ll catch you up afterwards” He nods and evreyone walks out of the kitchen leaving me with Yeosang. He walks over to me and sits down in the chair in front of me while I grab some of the food Wooyoung prepared I serve Yeosang his favorite, just pure blood. I set it in front of him while I also set my plate down he then breaks the silence “It’s brave of you to try and help us.” I carefully pour tea into my cup “Of course, I’d do anything at this point for my friends but most importantly the love of my life.” Yeosang traces his index finger along the rim of the glass “That’s very sweet of you and a very pure intention that I hope works in your favor.” I shove a spoonful of food in my mouth he then pulls his finger away from the glass and clears his throat “So about your relative Sorceress Ursula, not only was she a well known pyromancer..” The corners of my eyes crinkle “What is that? I mean I’ve heard of them but I don;t really know what they do besides control fire..” A small smirk appears on his angelic features “Well, a pyromancer is a sorcerer who can manipulate and conjure up fire at will..” I take a sip of my tea then I say “Oh wow Ursula was pretty strong I’m sure it took her years.” Yeosang nods and says “Yeah she was but the more you study and practice I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it, at least the basics in a few months.” Can I really do this? My only hope is that my determination is enough to help me.I stare at the table then I lift up my gaze and I say “I have a bad feeling I won’t have a few months.” Yeosang gives me a concerned look “Don’t say that, if only Seonghwa got a good look at the guy maybe we would know for sure if it was actually him but let’s just hope it wasn’t him. We’re probably just freaking over nothing.”

After I finish eating Yeosang takes me to his work room located in the chapel. He opens the wooden door to reveal a dimly lit room with beakers and flasks each containing different substances and along the walls were bookshelves filled with many different kinds of books. It was like a small time capsule of a Victorian era laboratory. I quietly gasp and smile “Oh my gosh Yeosang, you have so many books!” he chuckles and gently massages his neck slightly embarrassed “I guess I do, thing is that’s not even half of them. A Lot of the books in the whole house are mine the other ones are either Seonghwa or Hongjoong’s” I walk over to a bookshelf and immediately spot Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes “Oh my gosh, can I borrow this? Is this the original cover?” He nods “It is, I remember when it first came out it’s nice to see you have a really great taste in books and of course, I have the whole series so whenever you want to borrow a book just let me know.” I smile and hug the book then Yeosang puts on his glasses and inspects carefully at the bookshelves eventually pulling out a few books “I don’t wanna overwhelm you with reading but I feel like these 4 books have very good information on not just beginner spells but also a little more intermediate. I also gave you one specific book for necromancy if you want to dip your toes into that. I will say necromancry is powerful, but I trust you will use it correctly.” He puts the 4 thick books in my arms and I glance at him with concern “What if I accidentally hurt you guys..” Yeosang gently puts his hand on my shoulder “It won’t happen, I know so. Trust yourself.” I nod then Yeosang pulls a chair and clears a small space on the table and smiles “You can sit here and read while I work on a few things. If you have a question you can just ask.” I sit down and open the first book and I begin to read, a few hours pass until I started dozing off. I should really go freshen up, I’m falling asleep and this isn’t the time to be falling asleep no matter how boring these books are. “Hey Yeosang, I’ll be right back I have to use the bathroom.” He nods and without looking up from his notes says “Okay, I’ll be here. Hurry back.”

Once I finish I wash my hands and walk outside. I walk past Mingi’s room and I hear the door open and immediately I come to a halt, I slowly turn around and see Mingi standing in the middle of the hallway. I gasp and I run towards the stairs until I feel him grab my arm and he says in a sincere but very soft tone “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” Stay on guard y/n. I gently pull my hand away from Mingi’s grip and I step back a bit “Do you need something Master Mingi?” I say in a serious tone he nods then says in a soft voice almost like he’s whispering “I’m not supposed to be anywhere near you without anyone else here with me but after hearing you call me a friend I honestly felt terrible for what I did to you. I let the prejudice between vampires and witches get in the way of seeing what a great caring person you are and for that I’m sorry.” I glance over at Mingi and his face was painted with remorse, I quietly sigh and cross my arms in front of my chest “Master Mingi, you tried to kill me. I can’t just trust you that easily after something like that that’s not how it works.” He runs his hands through his hair and nods “Yeah I know, I just wanted to put it out there that I don’t hate you anymore especially after seeing how much you genuinely mean to everyone else here especially Seonghwa.” I stare at the ground for a few seconds then he reaches over to touch my shoulder and out of fear I slightly jump up and he pulls his hand back “I’m so sorry.” I fidget with my fingers then I look up at him “I forgive you Master Mingi. I understand your urges are hard to control at times especially being around humans but I think It was also my fault too for making it even harder for you to control yourself by going into that room even after Seonghwa told me not to and making you upset so for that I’m so sorry.” Mingi looks in to the distance as if he was trying to process my apology then he says “It’s okay, it’s just the reason Seonghwa told you not to go in there is because there are artifacts in that room that if touched by a human the power surging through those items could kill you.” Wow, but what are they used? Sacrifices? “Hm, like what?”

Mingi looks around making sure no one is around and steps closer towards me “Well, one of them is the Shard of Hades, it is said to be made of the Hades’ own weapon the bident. It grants you huge amounts of power and is able to control masses. Which is why anytime a human touches it they die, due to the dark energy emanating from it. The only beings to ever be able to wield this weapon is immortals like gods, demons, or vampires which is why it’s dangerous. One huge drawback with immortals wielding it is that if their willpower is not strong enough the dark energy consumes them thus sucking the immortality out of them.” I raise my eyebrow “Why is this in your possession if it’s so dangerous?” Mingi shrugs “It belonged to our creator, we honestly don’t know how he got a hold of it. He left it behind after he died so we decided to keep it away from Draven because one thing for sure is that he would definitely take advantage of its powers.” I narrow my eyes slightly “Hm okay then how come the door wasn’t locked?” He presses his lips into a straight line “It was…Just maybe not for humans. The sigil on the door, in the room and under your bed are a protection sigil that way we’d know if anything unhuman has entered our home. Unfortunately we underestimated you, usually people don’t get ballsy enough to go down there after we tell them not to which is our mistake.” I’m guessing even vampires themselves majorly fuck up. “I mean you can’t expect humans to listen and submit to everything you say even if their lives are in danger..” He looks over his shoulder again and says “I mean to be fair we never expected it because this is the very first time a human has stayed here this long, they’re usually either dinner or a sacrifice.” I nervously laugh then Mingi gasps and shakes his head “Oh no, you’re not either of those don’t worry.” MIngi looks away then looks at the ground.

“y/n? Can I tell you something and please don’t take this the wrong way” I slightly raise my eyebrows and I say “What is it Master Mingi?” He awkwardly shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants and says in a slight embarrassed tone “So, Yunho told me your cooking is really good and I was wondering if maybe one day if you’re comfortable enough with me I could maybe try it?” I never thought I’d see the day where Master Mingi would confess him wanting to try my cooking, that’s so cute. “Oh you mean like have dinner with Masters San, Wooyoung, Jongho and me?” He nods while looking away clearly embarrassed “Of course, you can join us tomorrow if you’d like.” I nod and for a few seconds we stand there with Mingi suddenly getting really quiet then I hear Yeosang call out my name. Mingi looks at me with eyes pleading me not to tell anyone that we’ve talked. He puts his index finger in front of his lips and quickly goes back into his room. A few seconds later Yeosang walks up the stairs and sees me walking down the hallway and says “I’m sorry I got worried. You were gone for quite a while is everything okay?” I nod “Yeah, everything is okay my mind was just wandering and I kind of lost track of time.” I begin walking down the stairs with Yeosang walking next to me, eventually we get back to his science room and I go back to studying for a few more hours while Yeosang is busy observing a mixture in a beaker bubbling over a burner and tending to other stuff in his lab. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Yeosang automatically says “Come in.” too focused reading I feel someone kiss the top of my head and I look up and see it’s Seonghwa he then says “Sorry it took long my love me and Hongjoong just got caught up talking that we lost track of time. ”

He turns and looks at Yeosang and says “Hey, Hongjoong wants to see you he’s gonna go over what we talked about.” Yeosang turns off the burner and continues writing stuff down “Okay, i’ll be there in a few I just need to finish writing this observation.” I close the book I was reading then I say “I’ll just go back to our room and study” Seonghwa tilts his head slightly “How about so you’re not by all yourself you can stay with me in my work room?” I smile then I say “Anything to have an excuse to hang out with you.” He chuckles then helps me with my books then I before I walk out the door I tap Yeosang’s shoulder and I say “Thank you for the books, I’ll return them to you when I’m done” He smiles shyly and says “Of course anytime also please take your time and let me know if you need help with something” I nod then I walk over to Seonghwa and we head over to his work room. As soon as I enter I notice his work room has no windows, his work space is also very neat and tidy and like Yeosang his work space was a small time capsule, now I understand why they don’t really leave their workspaces that often. I’m sure it reminds them of when they were alive. I look over at Seonghwa and quietly giggle “Wow, you’re very neat and tidy and this looks like a workspace of a 17th century poet it’s really beautiful.” He nods and sets down my books onto his desk and says “I’m glad you like it, a lot of the things in here are things I used to own when I was a human.” He gently touches a small wooden music box and lifts up his gaze to look back at me and continues “Like this music box, it doesn’t work anymore but having it here with me is comforting.” I softly smile while I take a closer look at it without touching it. “I like it, I think it’s cute how much you treasure this. It's like a reminder that you were once human and your life prior to becoming a vampire.” he nods and sits down on his slightly worn leather chair and says “Yes, it is a much needed reminder and if I’m honest, when you turn into this you tend to forget your human qualities and tend to become very inhuman. Not just physically but in the way you think too, you lose yourself…”

I sit down in the chair in front of his desk and I carefully watch him “I lost myself and turned into a monster, that in the moment I couldn’t tell until I realized it was you we were going to sacrifice. The love of my life, my soul mate. You brought me back to my senses.” I smile and reach for his hand “I’m so proud of you for realizing your mistake, I'm sure those urges are very hard to handle and it’s very easy to lose yourself and give in to that animalistic behavior.” Somewhat ashamed he silently nods and I sit there gently rubbing my thumb on the top of his hand. “All those sacrifices don’t define you. Part of me believes you did it because you had to not because you wanted to.” He reaches over and strokes my cheek without breaking eye contact, he then lets out a small sigh and says “Of course I had no other choice, none of us did. Draven and his older brother saved all of us from the brink of death and working for him was a way to repay him for keeping us alive.” Everything is beginning to make sense as to why they’re tied down to this evil thing, not only do they have a contract with him but he’s also probably one of the reasons they’re not dead. Me being here is only going to make things worse for them, I can’t let them take the fall because of me. If they’re going to live forever they should be able to live a life they enjoy not live a life as henchmen for a demon. “So in a way he’s keeping all of you to work for him against your will.”

Seonghwa nods and sits back on his chair falling completely silent once again until I speak “Now I see the loyalty for this man isn’t because you admire him, it’s out of fear…” I look at one of the books from the corner of my eye and look back at Seonghwa’s sullen expression. The only way to truly make Seonghwa happy is to defeat this demon. I force a smile and say “I’ll work hard to protect you, I won’t let you suffer.” Seonghwa’s face lights up a little bit and gestures me to give him a hug. I get up and walk behind his desk and I lean over and hug him while I rest my head on his shoulder “Can I ask you ask a question?” He hums slightly nodding his head “What was your life as a human?” He chews the inside of his cheek completely avoiding eye contact with me so I hesitantly grab his hand again “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He shakes his head “No, it’s just kind of a hard thing to look back on but it’s also something you need to know about me before you make your choice whether you want to stay with me or not.” I raise my eyebrow slightly surprised. He clears his throat and adjusts in his chair and gently pulls me over so that I sit on his desk facing him “So, when I was human it was my father, mother, my older sister and I. Years before I was born my great grandfather was a former warrior for our village who eventually turned into a thief, he was later killed for his actions after he robbed a noble after he almost killed him. Unfortunately, my family suffered the consequences for my grandfather’s actions and my whole family was ostracized from the village and we were treated like outcasts. That led to our family to become very poor and unable to afford food and other important necessities a lot of the time. So as I grew up I resented not only my grandfather but the people of our village for blaming us who had done nothing. One day when my older sister got severely ill I had no choice but to steal the medicine she needed to get better. The bad part is that from that day forward it was a habit that soon turned into something I enjoyed, I enjoyed seeing those people responsible for my family’s ostracization suffer even if it was at my expense. I slowly became a well known delinquent in the village, constantly getting into fights and trouble to the point where my mother eventually stopped reacting to my injuries from how frequent it was.“ I would have never guessed Seonghwa being this type of person prior to becoming a vampire. I genuinely thought he probably came from a rich family or was a royal himself. The way he carries himself is so proper and prince like, nothing like the delinquent he says he was. “Wow, that’s- I’m so sorry you went through this, you spent your human life on survival mode.” He meets my eyes and says “I’m sorry I was not the person you probably thought I was. In a way I deceived you, I was a horrible person and I did many things I wish I could take back. You have no idea how much I hate myself, I could have become better but I didn’t. I became what my village expected of me.” I pull his hands a little closer to me resting them on my lap “Look, I’m not going to sit here and say what you did was okay because it wasn’t. The good thing is that if you recognize your mistake, you’re headed in the right direction. You feeling remorse for your actions means that you do have a heart.” He furrows his eyebrows and I continue “No one is perfect whether they are living or undead” He sighs and defeatedly looks away from me “I know. I just want to be perfect for you.” I smile and pull him into my arms, his head resting on my chest “I know you do, but you don’t have to. I’m happy the way you are. Flaws and everything, just how you love me for me.” He pulls me a little closer to him while I gently stroke his sliver hair, we stay quiet for a few minutes enjoying being in each other’s arms until Seonghwa eventually pulls back “I almost forgot to tell you how I met our creator Sir Jongkook.” I give him a small smile “Go ahead, I'm listening.”

Seonghwa laces his fingers with mine and looks up at me from his seat “Well, Sir Jongkook and Draven were explorers at the time and they happened to stay at our village since our village was well known for its nightlife. It just so happened he was on his way to meet up with Draven at a tavern near the nightlife district and that’s when he runs into me getting the living daylights beat out of me after I foolishly picked a fight with the mayor’s son, I eventually became outnumbered. So, I don’t remember this part as I was passed out by then but Sir Jongkook fended them off, when he got closer to my body to check up on me and he realized how severe the beating was. He decided to feed me his blood because I was very close to dying and he felt horrible and didn’t want to just leave me there so he figured he’d take me in his care and give me a new life, one where I wasn’t so vulnerable and troublesome.” I see why they’re so fond of this man, he was very empathetic for a vampire. I can only imagine how happy he made them in order them to admire them so much they still keep a painting of him. “So I’m guessing your creator was one of those rare vampires who aren’t evil?” He nods “Yes, he was a very good man. I learned a lot from him, the rest are very fond of him too. He was there when we needed him the most.” I hold his face in my hands gently stroking around the wound on his cheek “I promise we’ll bring your creator back home, so he can finally rest in peace.” He pushes back a strand of hair behind my ear and rests his forehead on mine “ I love how empathetic you are towards our creator despite never meeting him, you would have loved him..” Great aunt Ursula please, if you can hear me please help me I’m begging you. I know I just found out about you not long ago but I need help awakening my powers. I need to redeem myself, for not only letting a person die but I need to find a way to get rid of Draven one way or another to end this.

☽ ──── ༺𖤐༻ ──── ☾

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nickfowlerrr · 2 years

Text

pretty when you cry - chapter eleven

series masterlist / my writing playlist / chapter twelve (a)

pairing: dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. 18+ only. this is a short chapter. a little sweet and angsty. dubcon relationship. early stages of stockholm syndrome? idk. honestly not a lot happens here, but if i’m missing anything that should be tagged pls let me know.

words: 3.5k

notes: first things first!!! yes, i am posting on a new blog. i made a new account and all updates and new fics will only be posted here - @bellasburdens - and reblogged to my fic library @bellaslieberry. bellareadsandrecs will still be up for now but i will not be posting or updating on there at all so please give this new blog a follow instead. thank you :)

okay now for the chapter notes -

i lied again lol

mean!bucky will actually be coming back in the next chapter. i just keep adding things and i can’t stop myself 💀 this chapter is short, deceptively sweet, and angsty but chapter twelve will be a lot more dark (or so i’m planning) so get ready

this chapter is kinda stupid and all over the place and barely tracks but it’s okay bc next chapter doesn’t suck so lets just look forward to that lol

bucky and reader are such hopeless romantics it makes me so sad :( why’d everything go so wrong :(

anyway i hope you guys enjoy this chapter! or not! no hard feelings lol. feedback and comments are more than welcome and always appreciated - please let me know what you think! and thank you for reading and reblogging.

This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

You woke up with a start, that feeling of panic heavy on your chest as you looked around the dark room, heart pounding as your eyes tried to scan your surroundings - finding nothing familiar. The heavy arm that wrapped around you and the feeling of Bucky's warmth radiating from behind you reminded you where you were and helped you to find your calm as you willed your heart to slow down and took measured breaths.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep,” Bucky murmured in your ear, his voice sounding deeper than usual and thick with sleep. You momentarily felt badly for waking him up, but the sweat still on your skin and the sticky feeling of his spend between your legs was your main concern. You tried to get up from the bed, but Bucky stopped you, pulling you tighter against him.

“I need the bathroom, Bucky,” you complained.

He drew in a deep breath before he threw the covers off of himself and got out of the bed while you stayed where you were. He stood and stared at you from the end of the bed for a moment before impatiently gesturing for you to get up. You rolled your eyes as you gripped the comforter, eyeing the throw blanket that was crumpled at the end of the bed, hanging onto the footboard. You sat up and grabbed it, wrapping it around yourself before you neared him, his eyes never leaving you.

You assumed he was going to take you to a bathroom somewhere down the hall maybe, but when he approached a closed door on the opposite wall in the same room and opened it to reveal the master bath, you looked over at him incredulously. Did he really get up out of bed just to walk you not even ten feet across the room? Where exactly did he think you were going to go?

He opened the door and flicked on the light, causing you to wince slightly as your eyes tried to adjust. And then he just stood there in the doorframe. You looked at him and he just extended his arm into the bathroom, gesturing for you to enter.

“Are you serious?” you asked, annoyed.

“You said you needed the bathroom,” he responded.

“Yeah, I didn’t need an escort across the room. And I certainly don’t need you watching me while I’m in here,” you said as you passed him, entering the room, “So, if you’d move,” you continued as you tried to shut the door while he was still in the doorframe.

His hand held the door and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Don’t lock it,” he said before letting you close it on him. You shut the door and, of course, immediately locked it, earning a harsh growl of your name in return from the other side of the wood.

“What do you think I’m gonna do, Bucky? Crawl out of the window with nothing but a fucking blanket around me and run away?” you snarked.

“Unlock it. Now,” he said seriously. You rolled your eyes but relented. He threw the door open the second you did as he told you to and followed you further inside the room.

You ignored him as you looked around the bathroom. To your left was a mirror and a set of sinks along the wall. To the right was a large walk in shower, which looked very tempting at the moment. Straight across from you was a huge bathtub set in front of a large window, which had the blinds slightly open, letting the moonlight shine in some. As you walked further in, Bucky following your every move, you saw another door to the left which was open, inside was the toilet. As much as you had to pee, you walked past it to see what was on the other side of the wall. You found another large mirror in front of another sink and next to it was what you assumed was a towel closet.

His bathroom alone was nicer than the entirety of your house and it was nearly spotless, too. There was no way he could afford this house by himself just off of the business his shop got, you were sure of it. You just didn’t know what other business he conducted outside of that that could afford him a place like this. You didn’t really want to know, either.

So instead of asking, you turned back and walked through the door leading to the toilet.

“Am I allowed to close this one?” you asked sarcastically as you turned to look at Bucky leaning on the wall next to the shower.

He smirked before answering you, “Yeah, you’re allowed to close that one.”

You clenched your jaw and shut the door harsher than necessary. You used the toilet and cleaned yourself up as best you could but still felt sticky all over. And you wreaked of sex. You walked out and to the nearest sink to wash your hands, struggling to keep the throw around you as you did.

He walked up behind you as you were trying to dry your hands and yanked the blanket from your naked body.

“Bucky!” you yelped. Immediately you tried to cover yourself with one arm while attempting to grab the throw from him with the other, but he wouldn’t let you have it. Instead, he dropped it on the floor, pulled your arm away from your body and pulled you into him as you pouted and avoided his eye.

“We’re both up now, might as well shower, too,” he suggested as he gazed down at you pouting against his chest. You didn’t respond, so he continued, “I’ll be right back. Let the water get warm,” he said after letting you go and turning the shower on, then leaving the room completely.

After watching him go, you walked into the shower and tested the water that was falling from the ceiling shower head. You felt sweaty and gross and were actually thankful Bucky suggested the shower so that you wouldn’t have to ask. There was a bench along the left wall of the shower and shelves along the back wall near the faucet handles.

When the water was warm, you walked fully into the shower, letting the water rain down on you. As cleansing as the water felt, you knew you wouldn’t be or feel clean until you scrubbed your skin with body wash. Cursing at yourself for not looking for some sort of washcloth or towel before getting wet, you debated just walking to the otherside of the bathroom and getting the floor wet in search of one before Bucky came back in. In his hand was the bag you had packed with all of your toiletries. He put it on the counter and started taking everything out of it as you watched him. You don’t know why you were so surprised, of course he had no qualms about going through your things, but still, you were.

And when he started putting some of your things in drawers and cabinets, you finally recalled what he had said before you passed out on his bed earlier. He wanted you to stay here with him. He was planning on keeping you here with him. But that couldn’t happen. You had a house, rent, two jobs, you had obligations and responsibilities. You couldn’t stay here. You needed to go home. But it was so late.. or early? You didn’t even know what time it was. And you were hardly in a position to argue with Bucky right now. You needed to calm down and take it one thing at a time. You were already here and you needed to shower, so you decided to focus on just that for now.

“What time is it?” you asked him as he continued taking things out of your bag and placing them where he saw fit.

“2:27,” he responded while he set your toothbrush near his in one of the holders he had on the counter. You nodded to yourself before you asked your next question.

“Do you have a washcloth I can use?”

He didn’t answer, just walked to the other side of the bathroom. You heard the cabinet open and close and he came back with a couple of washcloths and two fluffy bath towels in hand. He hung up both towels on the towel rack right outside the shower and grabbed your bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash off the counter before walking into the shower to join you. He handed you a washcloth and set the bottles on one of the shelves near his own.

“I need the-” you were going to ask for the body wash before he turned around with it in his hand. He took the now wet cloth from you and instead of squeezing the soap onto it, he put it directly on you, squirting the body wash onto your chest, the cool soap shocking your skin briefly, before he began to run the cloth along your body, washing you himself.

You were quiet as you watched him be so attentive and caring. Internally reveling at his touch, letting him turn and move you any way he wanted. He washed from your neck to your arms, and down your torso before he turned you around and washed down your back and down your legs before he came back up and turned you back around to face him. He slipped his hand between your legs, nudging you to spread your legs and you did so, hesitantly. He ran the cloth up and down your inner thighs and up and around your hips and ass before you spoke softly. “Okay,” you said, urging him back to stand at his full height. He threw the cloth on the bench before he looked back down at you, admiring you standing defenselessly before him. You turned around once again and let the water wash the soap off of you before you moved to wash yourself a little more intimately between your legs with the water.

Bucky was washing his own body when you finally felt fully washed and cleaned. You stared at him as his back was to you now and… wanted to cry. You wished it was always like this - that it could have been like this from the start. Loving, gentle, intimate. You could see it all playing out in your head now.

In a perfect world, where Bucky wasn’t so fucking stupid, it would have been different. Maybe you would have seen each other at the bar, but then probably wouldn’t have said anything to each other. Some time later, maybe you would have met at the diner.. and then maybe you and him would have picked up on your connection. But, it would take a while before anything came of it, knowing yourself and knowing how Bucky initially felt about finding his soulmate. Maybe there would have just been days of him coming into the bar or the diner while you worked, and maybe he’d barely talk to you, but, who knows, maybe eventually some faithful intervention would have occurred, forcing you two together. Maybe he could have been your knight in shining armor, maybe he would have come to your defense or maybe he would have found you like a damsel in distress, crying or having a panic attack (more likely than you’d like to admit), or just, something and he would so easily soothe you… and then, hey, maybe you both would go your separate ways. But then, maybe he’d show up to your house and tell you how he can’t stop thinking about you. How he can feel you, and how he’s sure you feel the pull, too. And you’d admit that you did. That you couldn’t stop thinking about him, either. You’d easily accept that you were soulmates. And then, maybe he’d ask you to go to dinner with him. And from there, something beautiful could grow. Something sweet and simple and pure. But this wasn’t a perfect world. And Bucky could be really fucking stupid. Stupid and selfish.

And yet, here you were. Showering with him and somehow feeling like you were the most important thing in the world to him. You felt it in his touch and you could swear you saw it in his eyes as he stared at you like you were a perfectly imperfect work of art. You thought again of fate. How you could imagine some fated intervention forcing you two together. And you thought, maybe it had. Maybe that was exactly what happened. What if that was the only way to bring your union together? What if everything happened exactly the way it had to so that you two could be together. How beautifully fucked that would be. Tragically, cosmically, unfair. It just seems more and more like you never had a choice. Neither of you did. Maybe there could be some solace to find in that. It was always outside of your control. But how different things could be if it wasn’t. That would always taunt you. Haunt you. Could you ever let that go?

You hadn’t realized you actually started crying until you were back in Bucky’s arms, water pouring down on the both of you as he shushed you, almost caringly.

“What if I say I don't want this?” you questioned weakly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said softly against your temple as your face was tucked down into him, “Even if that were true,” he murmured before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, “It’s not up to you,” he finished as you shuddered and cried into him, wrapping your arms desperately around him as he held you and swayed with you gently under the still falling water.

“It’s gonna be okay. I promise. I’ve got you. No matter what, I’ve got you,” he spoke into your hair, holding you a little longer and a little tighter before he gently pulled away from you to shut the water off. You stayed in your spot, wiping the tears away as he grabbed one of the towels for you and wrapped it around your body before securing his own around his waist.

You spent a while longer in the bathroom, really taking your time to go through what you could of your usual nighttime routine. When you walked back into the master, you found Bucky finishing putting clean sheets on the bed, wearing only a pair of sweats. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed as he watched you approach, still holding the towel around your body.

“Your bags are right there,” he said, gesturing toward the doors of the walk in closet. You went over and looked through them before you found a pair of underwear and one of your pajama shirts. You decided to forgo a bra and didn’t bother finding a pair of shorts, you didn’t really see the point in searching for them when you were on the verge of passing out yet again, exhaustion taking over you. You shimmied on your underwear and after dropping the towel, pulled the sleep shirt on. You weren’t sure where to put the towel, suddenly concerned with manners before Bucky called you over to him, telling you to just throw it in the bathroom.

“Come here,” he beckoned. You walked over slowly and when you were near enough, his hands found your waist and he pulled you to him, looking up at you from where he sat, obviously noticing your renewed tiredness. He held you for a moment and it was peaceful in the silence as he rested his head against you, your hands trepidatiously reaching out to him, your fingers running through his damp hair before he pulled away slightly.

“God, you’re everything. Everything I want. Everything I need. Everything I never knew I was looking for,” he said quietly, leaning up to punctuate each sentence with a kiss to your pliant lips as he still held you by your waist. “I’m sorry I tried to make you think different. But I’m not letting you go now,” You bit your lip as you looked at him, his eyes filled with so much sincerity you had to look away.

“I know you're still tired. Lay down,” he said as he pulled you onto the bed. As you moved to adjust yourself more comfortably on the mattress, he positioned himself to spoon you from behind.

“I love you,” he whispered to you. Your heart clenched and as you let the words sink in, you turned slowly into him, your head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you once again. His comfort coaxing you to sleep.

You woke up as the sun began to rise, with Bucky in a deep slumber beside you. Being as quiet and careful as you could, you left the bed and grabbed the first pair of bottoms you saw in your bag still on the floor. You pulled the loose shorts on and wandered downstairs, all the while keeping an eye on Bucky’s sleeping figure while you backed out of the doorway before heading down. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do in all honesty, but you thought it would be smart to at least know where your keys were. A part of you wanted to stay and wait for Bucky to get up so you could talk to him but another part wanted to just find your keys and go home to be alone and figure things out away from him for the time being.

You couldn’t keep denying it anymore, that you knew. Whether you wanted to or not, you were with Bucky, for real now. But what was that going to entail? How quickly were things going to change. How much could you take so soon? You hadn’t forgiven him yet and you weren’t sure if you ever would, but you knew that despite it all, you loved him. Your soul ached for him and you couldn’t change that. And fighting it had brought nothing but more pain and hurt from both sides.

You know the end. You just need time to process the inbetween. Everything that has happened so far and everything that is bound to follow.

It’s just, it’s so good when you’re with him. You could almost forget the bad. Maybe one day you’ll be able to completely. To just be present and allow the love to flow instead of trying to deny it. To allow yourself to forget what he did. Maybe one day you won’t even think of it anymore. Wouldn’t that be nice. You almost laughed to yourself as you thought those stupid thoughts.

Really, though, what was the point? Why keep hurting yourself to keep him away when it’s inevitable. Everything is so much simpler, easier, when you just stop fighting.

But, fuck, he didn’t deserve to get off so easy. You could never do anything to hurt him the way he hurt you. Never. And maybe it was a good thing you kept reminding him of how much he fucked things up. There would always be a little part of you that hated him for it. And if you had to feel it, then he should have to, too. He has to live with what he did, just like you have to.

You know he loves you and he wants you, needs you. But you weren’t going to make it easy for him. Not when you could help it. You had gone through your bag that was still downstairs and searched all around the foyer looking for your keys, even going as far as out to your car to see if they were left inside or maybe he had dropped them out there last night. You had decided that you did want to go home. You figured some alone time would do you good, and you were sure Bucky would come get you soon enough anyway. Maybe you would leave him a note, just so he wouldn’t go full psycho stalker when he realized you were gone. But you couldn’t find them. You were frustrated now as you walked back inside and closed the front door quietly, picking up your bag to look through it one last time, just in case.

You felt him behind you before you heard him, and you could tell without even seeing him that he was upset yet again. More than upset, you thought, as you could practically feel his anger the closer he got to you. So much so that you stopped moving completely, feeling frozen in place as you waited with baited breath for him to speak - almost scared to make any sudden movements. The intensity coming from him was overwhelming and you wanted to say something, to explain. You knew how this looked. It looked like you were trying to run away from him again. And he had already made it clear he wasn’t going to let that happen. You didn’t know what he was going to do, how he was about to react, but if last night was any indication, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be all too pleasant for you if he got even more possessive. If you could just explain, though, maybe he’d see where you were coming from. If you could just get the words out…

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