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sojumamii · 2 days

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˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧always a brat ˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧

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summary: no matter how hard he tries,megumi is always gonna be a spoiled brat that hates to share, especially when it's you he's sharing.

tags: megumi x fem/afab! reader, childhood friends to lovers, slight slight angst mostly cute fluff, flustered pining megumi, jealousy (cute), dad gojo, nanami is so cool (derogatory) this is me wanting cute megumi content bc i miss him too much. Honestly I gave a huge backstory about you and megumi's childhood LMAO enjoy

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It wasn't so long ago that a neurotic white haired lanky man showed up at your doorstep, alongside a bored, odd-haired child to explain curses, and the art of jujutsu sorcery.Yadayada some bad people were looking for you because you have a powerful gift yadayada Gojo can help nurture your talents and keep you from being caught by those bad people because he's a big strong guy who supposedly ruined the world (idk the freak kept yapping for so long) yadayada you may or may not die but you'll be helping people, and not have to be around mean family members who think you're weird for seeing scary monsters they don't believe are real. (showed them)

The whole time this child-highjacker was talking you couldn't help but stare at the young boy about your age hiding behind him, not really out of fear but of disinterest, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Gojo catching on concluded his speech and gestured towards Megumi,"Ah! This little handsome punk right here is Megumi Fushiguro another cute stray i've taken under my wing! You're probably about the same age, first grader? Sooo! I'm sure you're gonna be best friends in no time!" he yelled animatedly, smile wide and mischievous.

Megumi scoffed in response, turning and walking away to a nearby car. You gasped at how so blatantly rude he was to your face, your face painted with obvious irritation. At your reaction Gojo chuckled and reached down to ruffle your (h/c) hair presenting you with a thumbs up.

"Don't mind him, I've come learn he's naturally moody, like is that kid really six years old,..but i'm sure he'll come around...I mean he really has no choice as you two will be a team from now on. Anyways! Let's get you two something to eat..y'like kikufuku?!" Shiny blue eyes peaked from round black sunglasses, you simply shrugged and walked with him to the car with your silly little backpack and your new future.

Growing up with Megumi was a slightly mixed bag, but instead of growing irritated of him, he fascinated you. Despite his more shadowy personality, you were rather fond of him right away,finding his hot temperament and need to be serious rather endearing and cute much to his open and endless dismay.

You wondered how this could be someone your age, as Megumi was much more composed than the supposed adult now taking care of you. He was indifferent to both you and Gojo, only ever interacting with his elder step-sister Tsumiki, who urged him to be kinder and more approachable especially since you two were in the same predicament. Megumi would scoff and tell her to leave him alone and that he didn't wanna make friends just because they're stuck together. You never took offense but it would annoy you that you had the decency to be kind but he wasn't discreet with his attitude.

"Right..like I know i'm the adult but it's kind shooting down my pride that this kid doesn't like me yet, i'm not above bribes..." Gojo had whispered to you after you secretly inquired about the other child, having a difficult time adjusting to your new living situation, the young boy's attitude towards you was not welcoming and though you did your best to leave him alone, you would still extend an arm out as gently as possible. Although, you were also not above checking Megumi's attitude which would result in some major clashes that would make Gojo fret over household repairs.

After walking you guys home from school Gojo would figure out what to feed you before training and homework, allowing you to snack as he stressfully lamented over what to feed the three of you. You're all seated at the table with your homework laid out, peckish from a long day of being an elementary aged child. Tsumiki sat primly in her chair sipping on a pink carton of strawberry milk, a staple in the gojo-fushiguro-(l/n) household. Excitedly you ask her if there were anymore boxes of the heavily worshipped beverages left.

She nodded sweetly, soft brown locks swaying,"Yeah (y/n) there's one more left with your name on it!"

You beam happily out of your seat, ready to grab your treat and announce to your guardian that more strawberry milk was to be added to the grocery list. Until...

You fall face first onto the firmness of the tatami mat and hear the rapid stomping of feet fleeing to the cabinet where your sacred treasure lay. Furious you look up at Megumi who was now indifferently drinking the last carton, that you had so openly claimed, a claim that was co-signed and notarized by Tsumiki. The absolute audacity of this bratty spoiled motherfu-

"Meg-" Tsumiki began to scold right before you exploded.

"You bitch!" you shrieked, you hear Tsumiki gasp at your profanity, but your anger was at boiling point with this broom haired kid. Megumi retained his look of indifference which furthered enraged you. Megumi expected you to get mad and yell at him but what he didn't expect was-

"OOF!" Megumi fell backwards roughly on the floor, as you tackled him, strawberry milk carton flying out of his hand, destination unknown. You're on him pulling as harshly as your tiny fists allow on his hair, he yells pushing you back but you're relentless!

"Calm down what's your deal you freak it's just strawberry milk!"

"You tripped me to get it you selfish brat! Even though you knew i wanted it!"

"You obviously didn't want it that bad! Should've been more alert!" he successfully gets you off of him, shoving you to the living room.

"Guys please!" You both ignore Tsumiki

"Ugh! You're such a whiny little bitch!" You lunge at him again with your fist ready,unbeknownst to you there's glowing flames of energy coursing through it,he narrowly evades it by moving his head. Making impact with the sofa, it splits in half, wooden floor below absolutely destroyed.

Megumi grunts in anger, his fist glowing as well ready to make impact with you, quickly you push him off and he blows a hole through the television and the wall behind it. Stubbornly you both make way to each other with powered filled fist ready to collide.

"ENOUGH! What's the matter you two!" Gojo catches both of your fists,pulling you two off the floor, holding the both of you in each hand, he angrily looks back and forth between you and the destroyed living room. "How did this happen! Why are you two trying rip each others' heads off and why is the living room a-oh?"

A lightbulb flickers over him," Well I'll be damned! You two finally managed to produce cursed energy,how exciting!" The older man hugs you both tightly, crushing your lungs.

"Too bad it took you guys trying to kill each other...which reminds me we need to have a little lesson on teamwork, and household construction you absolute demon children!" He gives a preview of your 3 hour long lecture by throwing you two into the hole you just punched in the floor.

After that incident you understood how someone so deceptively calm like Megumi was to be a sorcerer, he was crazy, a an absolute psycho you'd say. Gojo's words from a previous time replay in your mind:

"You have to be a little crazy to handle being jujutsu sorcerer."

Through a lot of exposure therapy, Megumi eventually got used to your presence, and actually began to enjoy it, seeking it even. Once you were both a little older and still around each other, he figured he may as well get along with you. It's not that he didn't like you (anymore) or found you annoying (anymore) he realized he was just used to Tsumiki, and didn't care for any more than that and was surprising to himself very combative to any sort of change. But he was making the effort to fix that immature side of him and be more receptive and open to you and gojo.

Despite that, the more missions you two shadowed, the longer you lived together and went to school, the closer you became and the tighter your bond felt. You became an inseparable pair, hanging out outside of sorcery and schooling, in your rooms, sharing hobbies and tastes in music, constant laughter and smiles were consistently heard and shared between you two. Witnessed fondly by Tsumiki and Gojo who had their own little gossip circle over mochi and tea. Strawberry milk was no longer allowed in the household.

This unshakable bond was like concrete, no matter the circumstances, no matter how terrifying going out on missions became and the atrocities you experienced, you guys relied on each other, minds and hearts in perfect synergy the older you became. Getting to your first year of jujutsu tech was something you both couldn't believe finally came around, now almost 10 years later, and your relationship was still thriving! Yuji and Nobara blending in perfectly to your small shared circle!

But now one person has began to shake that bond and making Megumi's possessive bratty habits rear their ugly head.

It's making Megumi regret coming to this stupid sorcerer school with the stupid handsome suit wearing ex-salarymen sorcerers who have stupid sorcery knowledge and wisdom. Who are stupidly caring and kind with cute quirks like loving bread, fuckin loser (yet megumi hates red bell pepper)

This thought process was pissing him off, and so was the existence of a specific grade 1 sorcerer.

"Nanami is so strong! His ratio technique is so cool!"

"Nanami is helping me with my precision and aim! He's so kind!"

"Nanami is such a gentleman, he tucked me to sleep in the car on the way home from a mission! A sweet handsome guy like him must have no problem getting da-"

"Alright! I get it Nanami is so great and awesome! You know it's a little inappropriate to have a crush on your superiors!" Megumi grumbles as he slams his hand on the table,eyebrows raised at you. What's so great about a guy who wears a suit to exorcise curses? fuckin weirdo

Your eyes widen as a flush takes over your cheeks, "Gumi don't be mean! I don't have a crush on Nanami, I'm just saying how kind he is and how much i've learned from him!" your lips form a pout.

"Really? Then why is your face red? Why are your eyes sparkling when you talk about him?What's the point in calling him handsome if you're not crushing on him! You sound like a love sick school girl!" He bites back.

You raise your brows and cross your arms,"You know your bratty attitude wasn't cute when we were kids and it's definitely not cute now! So what if I admire my mentor or compliment his looks! Yuji's complimented my looks and I don't see you calling him a love sick school girl!"

Internally he's kicking himself, he doesn't understand why hearing about Nanami from you is making him react this way. It feels like someone else is piloting his brain right now (or maybe his six year old self) especially when he utters his next words,"Maybe you should start hanging out with Nanami since he's so cool and special!"

"'You like me or something huh? Can't stand me looking at someone else!"You stand up, fists on the table, you lean your body over to Megumi's side of the table, face to face your (e/c) eyes give him a heated glare.

Now it's Megumi's turn to flush red, breaking his neck to look away from your intimidatingly beautiful eyes, his heart snaps.

"Are you jealous Gumi? Is that it? You want me to look at you only?" You inch closer, calling him out on his bluff.

'WHAT! Oh god.. no no no, awe shit...god damn it what am I thinking, beautiful eyes? I mean she does have beautiful eyes, and she's beauti- oh my god? She asked if I like her? I think that's what this is...heart pumping? Am I jealous of Nanami? Idiot. Why did I have to run my mouth like that? Since when do I lose my cool this bad nowadays?!" Megumi's thoughts race 100 miles per hour, body running hot from the interrogation.

"J-Jel-Jealous? What the hell would I have to be jealous of Nanami for!" His delicately pretty face twisted in confusion and irritation.

"I don't know gumi, how about you enlighten me" You smirk, cornering him like he's a feral possum, he's not getting out of this one unscathed.

He never really got into the specifics of his feelings for you, of course he liked you, or else he wouldn't stick around. You guys were so close it was honestly concerning to others and himself, you were his most treasured person (sacred one would say) He has been through major life experiences, and struggles with you, you grew up together. You had a domestic routine, a result of living together for years, even in the same house you guys slept in each other's rooms (and still do even though the dorms prohibit it) watched tv together, read together, cooked for each other, studied...went on outings... had matching rings ... matching sweaters.. and oh god is he already dating you?

That's not all, his shikigami adored you, you were there when he summoned his first ones, the divine dogs that he appropriately named shiro and kuro, and boy you were so excited to see them, the dogs took an instant liking to your adoration, and eventually you bonded with them they look out for you on missions. As a child that cemented for Megumi that you were someone he held dear and was 100% certain you had truly kind and pure heart if his shikigami were so trusting of you.

Same thing happened with his other shikigami; Nue would nuzzle into you despite his ever growing body whether it was after a successful mission or as soon as it was summoned for training, excited rust colored wings and a happy screech flocked your way. Gama and rabbit escape jumping on your shoulders in greeting or to rest.

When he lost Shiro and Orochi, you made him a pretty silver charm necklace with a snake and pretty white wolf, letting him mourn his fallen companions in the comfort of his bed as he sobbed heart wrenchingly in your arms and expressed his deep appreciation that you allowed him have something of them to carry with him

That memory is specifically one he holds so dearly, he remembers how much you reassured him that it was okay to mourn his shikigami and Yuji and that it wasn't his fault they died, and that this situation shouldn't make him jaded in making bonds with others; reality was that you guys were all still so young so to see one of you die was heartbreaking no matter how normal it was in your world.

looking back he feels that's when he began realizing his feelings ran deeper than initially imagined. It was instinct for him to protect you, comfort you and even just care for you in any way possible. Always making sure you were fed and hydrated, well rested, not overstrained, comforting you when missions you went on without him went awry, carrying you to bed when you fell asleep in the common room at the dormitory, or in the car on the way home.

If it was cold he made sure you had a sweater on before just in case or disregard his coldness by taking off his sweater and tenderly putting it on you (whilst grumbling and nagging for you to bring one, though Megumi would never admit so brazenly he loved seeing you in his clothes, that's his secret to keep.)

From across the way, Yuji and Nobara watch the spectacle going on at your table, it was very rare for you and Megumi to fight, you guys bickered for sure, you all did, but Megumi never lost his cool with you in those instances like he did with them. Usually if you fought it was over very serious things, like injuries on missions, mahoraga... the drawbacks of your technique on your body.. but never a serious argument on something so...stupid? Plus it wasn't in either of your introverted natures to display such a spectacle.

"What are those two screaming at each other about? I could've sworn I heard Fushiguro saying Nanamin's name a few times?" Yuji glances back at Nobara, his brown eyes curious as to what his favorite mentor had to do with your squabble, he takes a handful of fries while Nobara looks directly at her phone to take a photo, oblivious to her lack of fries.

"I'm thinking Fushiguro is jealous that his sweet little (y/n) has her eyes on someone else for once, but for him to throw a tantrum over a harmless crush on a mentor is a level of pathetic I never expected him to be on." Kugisaki stifles her laughter, brushing her auburn hair back, not so subtly eavesdropping on the argument.(not like she could help it, she's nosy plus you guys are hard to ignore right now)

"I could see why someone would for fall for Nanamin! He's a really a gentleman! Strong too! I'd feel threatened too if I was him. But doesn't he know (y/n) really likes him? They're super close like that" The pink haired boy states like it's a simple answer as any. Nobara rolls her eyes, annoyed at the men in her class.

"Fushiguro is emotionally constipated, he may not really understand that he has feelings for her because they've always been close, but because (y/n) is girl she's smarter and knows better! She's trying to get it out of him, twenty bucks says she gets him to confess by the end of today?" Nobara sticks her hand out to Yuji, he smiles a look for determination on his face as he shakes her hand.

"You're on! Twenty bucks says she gets him to confess here and now!" They both nod to seal their deal.

"What are you guys betting on?" A voice in their booth asks. The students squeak as Gojo makes his presence known, his face inquisitive and sly.

"That (y/n) is gonna get Fushiguro to confess his feelings! It's bound to happen!" Itadori explains.

Gojo sniffles at the response, sighing dramatically while putting a hand over his heart,collapsing wordlessly into the booth end face planting on the table, Yuji softly pats his teachers back for comfort,while Kugisaki rolls her eyes at the ridiculous scenes in front of her, she turns back to your table and gasps, phone falling out of her grip.

Gojo and Yuji immediately look up, jaws dropping in shock at the scene in front of them.

Megumi and you were standing away from your table,his hand on your waist, the other holding the side of your face as both your lips were gently pressed together, you on your tippy toes and arms around his neck. They witness the gentleness of the moment, both your eyes full of fondness,and affection as your lips separate. A pretty blush overtakes the atmosphere.

"Oh my babies! They're growing up too fast! One day they're destroying the house and trying to kill each other over strawberry milk then before you know it they're getting married!" Gojo babbles through escalating sobs, accepting the tissues Yuji's offered him and cries into said student's shoulders.

Nobara and Yuji share a questioning look on the qualifications of gojo being a parent and the nature of your childhood, Yuji comforts his sensei again,"Fushiguro and (y/n) are always gonna be your babies gojo! Honestly I'm j-just s-so I'm so proud of Fushiguro being so honest about his feeheeeliiiings" the pinked haired boy chokes through tears, wiping his runny nose on his uniform

Kugisaki looks at the two emotional men in disgust, opting to watch the romantic soap opera in front of her as a live studio audience member, smiling softly to herself, as though she wouldn't be as foolish as her sensei and friend to openly admit it, she was full of pride for you too! You'd been pining over Megumi for forever even though you weren't aware of it and you always described how you used to feel lonely until you met him and no matter what you guys go through you're always there-

"Those two are finally together I can't believe it!! I'm so happy!" the hazel eyed girl joins the huddle of Yuji and Gojo, tears flowing out her eyes. All of this goes ignored and unbeknownst to you and Megumi.

You smile brightly at the black haired boy, playing with the hairs behind his neck,"See Gumi, was that so hard to admit?" You tease him, he grunts, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassed annoyance.

He softly flicks your forehead, an old habit from middle school," Shut up... I didn't really know that's what that was...but now that you're mine, that means no more Nanami talk right? Or anyone that's not me for that matter.." pretty red flush stains his fair skin.

You giggle and kiss his cheek,"Hmmm I don't know Okkutsu is a reaaaaal cutie.." you pretend to ponder tilting your head in thought.

Megumi groans and kisses you again, more confident and stern,"You're an absolute pain."

"Don't worry Gumi you're my only and favorite one. I've always been yours silly." You wink, a pink blush dusting the both of you again. Megumi presses a chaste kiss, holding your hand and grabbing both your bags to get ready to leave for training after your longer than intended lunch, you're interrupted by a deep,polite voice.

"(y/l/n),Fushiguro, my apologies for bothering you both, I just wanted to quickly speak to Miss (y/l/n), here this is research I found on techniques similar to your own and information about its users.. I hope the information is helpful to you in your journey as a sorcerer." Nanami hands you a few books with various note tabs sticking out of them. You stare at it wide eyed, stunned and excited to learn more about your technique... and how much time and effort it took a busy man like Nanami to do...Seriously, what a gentleman...

You bow in appreciation,blush reappearing, "Thank you Nanami, I'm sure this will be very insightful!" the man smiles back and nods,"Of course, be sure to let me know what else you may want to know.That being said I've taken enough of your guys' time, goodbye for now."

Megumi scoffs, irritation palpable at his senior,"Tch. Whatever womanizer."He tugs at your hand and drags you away quickly to the exit and as far away from the dashing gentleman of a sorcerer. Damn...he's good.

As you're walking you smack his shoulder in reprimand,"gumi that was rude! you're always gonna be brat who does whatever he wants!" you're scolding him but it's in between giggles and the most loving soft gaze he's used to seeing in your eyes, now that he knows what it is, it makes him shy. He kisses your face as a distraction to your lecture (fat chance.)

And what could Megumi say, you make him crazy, he's always gonna put his foot down for what's his. He silently kisses the back of your hand like a guilty puppy.

he'll apologize to nanami soon

Taken aback Nanami blinks in confusion,"Womanizer?" he repeats. Megumi's vengeful words replay in his mind, unable to figure out an explanation.

He looks back at Itadori's table when the sound of rambunctious laughter invades the dining hall, confused hazel eyes hidden behind his opaque lenses.

"Why are you laughing?"

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I hope you guys liked my first work on here!! This was written on a whim with no specific outline (explains the inconsequential lore dump as this is one shot or who knows!!) hope you guys love jealous and bratty Megumi. As calm and collected as he is I imagine when hes in love so many emotions come up he doesn't know how to define them or properly communicate them so he says the first thing his brain tells him even when he himself knows rationally its crazy to say or think.

#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #nanami is so cool #dad gojo #jujutsu kaisen imagines #megumi fushiguro imagine #strawberry milk is a religious figure #it was not water into wine

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zepskies · 2 days

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Something Real

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader

Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.

Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️

🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist

“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.

The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile.

The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.

“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.

“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied.

This, from the man who storms burning buildings.

You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest.

“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.

It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out.

“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go.

“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.

Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.

Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism.

“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.

“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”

“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”

You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.

“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”

Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting.

“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile.

“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.”

Dean hummed again, raising his brows.

“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.

“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”

Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own.

“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”

His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.

It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given.

Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool.

Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room.

“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”

But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him.

“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through.

“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door.

“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”

Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”

“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.

“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said.

They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.

It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.)

Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already.

You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night.

“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.

At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.

“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”

You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness.

“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.

Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.

“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”

You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.

Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…

Your newfound family.

The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen��s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.

By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.

The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before.

However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.

It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public.

You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door.

“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”

“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled.

“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”

You had to laugh.

“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.

You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.

You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag.

“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile.

“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool.

There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.

You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.

“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said.

Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool.

You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.

Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks.

“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow.

“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said.

You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”

Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand.

“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.

He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.

Dean could see there was something off with you, though.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”

Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you.

One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about.

He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.”

You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”

Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man.

“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”

After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear.

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”

Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding.

Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.

Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage.

That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention.

Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.

Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”

He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.

“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt.

Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”

“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.”

You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off.

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”

You smirked and twined your arms around his neck.

“I prefer Captain,” you said.

Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”

“I really do,” you replied cheekily.

After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear.

“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm.

You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family.

Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm.

You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go.

You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth.

You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms.

Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.

Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.

“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.

“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.

“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him.

“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.

“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning.

You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.

“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”

At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”

You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.

“Yes, you do,” you agreed.

Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing.

“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”

Dean was quiet for a beat.

“How long then?” he asked.

“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment.

“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”

The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.

Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.

“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”

You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile.

“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.

Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”

Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.

That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.

Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.

“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”

Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.

“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”

Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.

She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.

You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…

“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.

“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.

She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours.

“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”

It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.

As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry.

Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.

Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.

When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.

“What do you think?” you asked.

Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you.

“Damn,” he said lowly.

You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.

“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand.

“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.

You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”

Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.

“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.

He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”

You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.

“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.”

Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said.

“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”

He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head.

“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.

“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”

Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”

You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”

And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself.

“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.

“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said.

“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.

“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”

Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.

“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.

You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.

“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.

Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.

“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled.

“I’m counting on it.”

You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake to make up for it.)

You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror.

He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement.

Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind.

“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”

Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly.

The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.

“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.

“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”

You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”

“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”

You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.

“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”

Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while.

Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche.

A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind.

“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked.

“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”

“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks.

He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”

“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”

Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him.

Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast.

He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex.

“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now.

You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead.

“Come on,” you whispered.

When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.

He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water.

Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.

In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts.

He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.

He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”

“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was.

Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand.

You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”

“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.

You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body.

But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit.

“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.

You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”

He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone.

And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him.

“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls.

By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss.

“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked.

You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever.

“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”

Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.

To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants.

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss.

Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light.

A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow.

A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone.

Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job.

Now, he had an actual future to build with you.

And he was more than ready to get started.

AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️‍🔥

(Also, just to let you know, this sequel story might be made into a podfic, so stay tuned if that interests you!)

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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screamingcrows · 2 days

Text

Afternoon tea - Dr. Ratio x gn!reader

This was requested by @yinyuedijun as part of the initiative by @/ficsforgaza Thank you for donating and requesting from me; If anyone else wants to support the effort, here are links to their page with directions and a masterlist of writers participating.

Tags: soft, fluff, implied friends to maybe lovers, mildly suggestive, acts of service as a love language Note: istg feed this to an ai, asmr thing, lore.fm or the like and I will have Ixodes scapularis at your heels Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked

"Come again?" Ratio had an abundance of patience when it came to you, but even so, it was difficult to keep disbelief from making his words a little more clipped than usual.

Without hesitation, the book in his hand was closed and found a home atop the worn coffee table, his body twisting to glance at you in the kitchen. Surely, he had misheard you. There was no way you would-

"A codpiece, Veritas. Have you ever considered getting or even making one?"

The way heat flooded to his face made the wish to hide under a familiar alabaster head resurface, an urge not often felt in your company. It was frustrating really, somehow you always made him loose his footing, and what on earth could have compelled you to ask such a ridiculous question?

Wearing the piece around you would be too great a shame to not see clearly how the light warmed whenever it touched your smile, how gracefully you moved around the table with a tray of freshly baked scones, the crinkles around your eyes when you laughed. Always your eyes, attentive and light, ensnaring him whenever he sought answers from you, and he would let them without hesitation. That was a truth.

If perfection existed, it had to be contained within you.

"Well, have you? They have been very fashionable is what I've heard. I'm sure you could cause an uproar if you made one out of that mineral you like so much," amusement was clear from your tone, and as always your words were most likely carefully picked.

"Alabaster was simply fitting, I would hardly call it my favorite. You should know better than thinking me rash enough to act on your whims, I have no intention of causing any uproar at the University unrelated to my teaching material," a scoff left his lips before he continued, "and don't think I missed your little 'have been'."

He enjoyed these peaceful afternoons, as peaceful as any room could be with you present at least, but it was not unwelcome. What had started as a simple apology on your end, having ruined one of his books by accident, had quickly turned into a weekly occurrence when it became clear how much you both enjoyed what you'd taken to calling 'tea parties'.

Your company was refreshing, carefree but wise, and utterly without restraint when it curiosity took hold, the routine of your little gatherings were pleasant while still allowing ample room for variety in topic of conversation. Lately you'd begun requesting taking turns reading aloud to the other, which he had no problem indulging. A small chuckle slipped past his lips, carefully concealed as clearing his throat.

Upon lifting the delicate porcelain to his lips, it was impossible not to notice how your were grinning at him from across the table, already curled up and comfortable as usual. There was no reason not to inquire, the beaming look in your eyes having already summoned butterflies inside his body. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how pleasant your company was, especially on days such as today where he'd showed up unprompted after work, yearning more for your voice than he did a long bath.

Or perhaps, inviting you home to bathe with him would've been the optimal course of action?

Oh that wasn't good. He shifted uncomfortably, one leg crossing over the other when blood gathered in an inconvenient place. That ridiculous garment you'd suggested would have been a blessing in his current predicament.

"You're clearly enjoying yourself, did I not notice you brewing us a new tea?" He set his cup down, eyeing it with skepticism as he awaited whatever had you looking so giddy, the sight of your lips stretching in a smile enough to have his heart struggling to break free.

How he wished he could've cursed out loud then and there, how he had been foolish enough to go months without being able to identify exactly what the budding feeling in his chest was, was far beyond him at present moment.

"I fixed your book. It's not perfect, but I did my best, and bookbinding was a lot harder than expected, so it took a while… Sorry," there was such pride in your eyes that he could practically feel his heart about to burst.

With a slightly shaky hand, the lightheadedness from his arousal only intensified by the sheer disbelief as he accepted the leatherbound book. By no means had it been valuable before, holding neither monetary nor sentimental value, but as Ratio set it inconspicuously in his lap, he couldn't help but trace his fingers along the now slightly uneven spine, knowing there was only one thing he could ever treasure more than this.

#dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #gn reader #dr ratio #veritas ratio x reader #cw codpiece #cw suggestive #fluff #soft #crow with a pen #hsr x reader

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bunniebubbleswrites · 2 days

Text

Lil' Killer

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F! reader A/N: I'm alive and almost done with school. I've never been more excited for something to be over. Word Count: 966 Warnings/Tags: Establised relationship, blood and murder Summary: While travling with Cooper a group of raiders decide that it would be a good idea to attack the both of you

You should have never left the Vault.

The Overseer was right. The Wasteland is dangerous, the first time you saw a rad-roach you almost spiraled into a panic attack.

It’s been a few months since then. You’ve lost the Vault suit and sold your Pip-Boy for caps. You had no need for them anymore, they made you too much of a target.

Only a few months and you’ve lost count of how many people and creatures you killed. The first time was jarring, being a bounty hunter paid well and it was the only thing that kept you on the move, never in one place for too long. If you were constantly on the move, you were safe.

The sand crunched under your boots and the gun holstered at your hip jangled as you dragged your bounty behind you, of course the fucker wanted the whole body for his own sick reasons. You learned to stop asking questions a long time ago, that was something you learned when you had lived in the Vault.

You walked up and into the outpost. You dropped the body down in front of the man standing behind the counter.

“Caps.” You held out your hand, waiting for your payment.

“We wanted him alive.” You slammed the bounty request down in front of him.

“Dead or Alive. Caps. Now,” He looked at the paper you had shown him and raised his eyebrow. The man reached down under the counter, but to your surprise, he pulled out a gun.

You have got to stop trusting people just to give you payment. You reached for your gun and aimed it at the man in front of you.

“Now, I suggest you give the lady her payment.” A man’s voice came from behind you, his chest now flush against your back.

Thank god.

You lowered your gun, as did the man in front of you. He tossed you the pouch full of caps. You re-holstered your gun and tied the pouch to your belt.

You walked around the man who stood behind you, as soon as you were outside the sound of a gunshot echoed through the air.

The sound of spurs came from behind you and your shoulders relaxed as Cooper wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Miss me darlin’?”

“Very much so.” You leaned back into him, his head resting on your shoulders.

“You really should be more careful, I thought I drilled that trustin’ instinct out of ya’ ”

You smiled at him, gently pushing him off you.

“Let’s get going pretty boy.” He scoffed at the nickname.

The two of you trekked through The Wasteland, walking towards Filly.

“What are we looking for Coop?” You asked as you climbed under a bit of rusted metal after him.

“A man.”

“What kind of man?”

“A wanted one.” At the sharp tone of his words, you knew to stop asking questions. You both continued walking, and bored with the silence you started to hum a little bit.

Cooper, only a few feet in front of you, stops dead in his tracks. You, feeling safe enough to be distracted, bumped into his back.

“Cooper? What’s wrong?” He shushes you and reaches for his gun, you in turn, go for yours. A rustling noise came from behind you, you turned around and your back was now flush against Cooper’s.

You aimed your gun, towards the source of the noise, ready to shoot at any moment. Your eyes darted around, looking for any sign of danger. You could never be too careful in The Wasteland.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? A ghoul and a vault dweller.”

How did they know? You had ditched everything weeks ago.

The sound of the voice came from behind you, which meant they were in front of Cooper.

Cooper had his gun aimed at the people in front of him, he was more than capable of taking them on himself.

“Come on out Vaultie, we won’t hurt ya’ “ You took a deep breath and stood tall, don’t show them you're scared. You came out from behind Cooper, your pistol in hand.

Another noise from the bush, without taking your eyes off the group of men in front of you, you took your shot, a body falling out from the bush. You let your arm fall to the side, finger still on the trigger.

“If y’ would kindly, move out of our way,” Cooper gestured with his pistol off to the side. The men didn’t move. If they were looking for a fight, they sure found one.

You let out a sigh as you reload your pistol.

Let's get this over with.

You looked at Cooper with a raised eyebrow. A silent question.

Can I take the first shot?

He nodded

I don’t see why not

You raised your pistol, smiled at the man, and pulled the trigger. The bullet landing right between his eyes. The other two men came running at you. You holster your gun and grab the hunting knife, you keep strapped to your thigh.

A manic expression filled your face. It’s been a long time since you’ve done this. The terror in their eyes, you loved it.

You ran at them, a terrifying smile graced your lips. You skillfully swung the knife in your hands. You knew exactly where to strike to make them bleed.

As you swiped your knife across one of the men’s neck, Cooper shot the other. Your white top, stained red and your face and hair covered with the same crimson and brain matter.

“There you are, lil’ killer.”

You giggled at the nickname. That’s what The Wasteland does to people, it turns people into killers.

“To Filly.”

You both continued to Filly, you had a bounty to find and deliver.

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #fallout prime #cooper howard/the ghoul #fallout tv series #fallout show

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 2 days

Text

Another celebration ficlet request! The original ask for this one seems to have gotten deleted, and it was sent on anon, so I can't even tag the person who sent it in. 😫

I hope you still see this and enjoy, nonnie! 💖

Heaven's in the backseat

Rated: E

Words: 1,000

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Mob boss Dick Harrington; Mentions of Stommy; Knife play; Dubious consent; Obsessive behavior; Violent thoughts; Car sex; Eddie has anger management issues and Steve is a little slut

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

Eddie has just lit his first cigarette of the night when one of the waiters informs him that Mr. Harrington wants him outside. As he grinds the cigarette under his boot, he imagines doing the same thing to Dick’s stupid head.

Working for a mob boss is so goddamn exhausting.

A week where Eddie doesn't come close to kicking the proverbial bucket is a good week - especially now that Dick has been taking him along as a bodyguard more and more often. He’s not complaining about that, though. Occupational hazard.

No, what’s really annoying is the damn black tie affairs. As if squeezing into a fucking suit wasn't enough, the social dynamics of the underworld are mind-numbingly complicated. All of the big mob families are either related or out to kill each other - more often than not both at the same time. It makes events such as this an interesting affair, to say the least. All night long, Eddie has been hovering at the edge of the room while the boss ate and drank and shook hands with other important farts. Always vigilant, always ready to pull his knife from its holster under his suit jacket. And now he can’t even step out for ten minutes to have a fucking smoke?

The car is parked in the driveway when he arrives. Next to it are the boss himself and a swaying figure with disheveled chestnut hair wearing a rumpled suit.

Eddie’s blood bubbles and his steps speed up.

“-fucking disgrace,” Harrington says just as he flies down the stairway leading to the car. “You’ll do anything for attention, won’t you?”

Eddie doesn’t catch the slurred reply, but it must’ve been the wrong one, because Harrington slaps the boy across the face before wrestling him into the backseat. Eddie’s hand is already on the knife when the asshole turns. For a heartbeat, he revels in the temptation of lodging the blade right in the middle of that ugly face, but he reigns himself in. Too much security, too many witnesses.

“My son is drunk,” Harrington says. “Drive him home.”

Before Eddie has a chance to reply, he has stalked past him and back into the venue.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Eddie casts a look into the rearview mirror to see the venue disappearing behind them and Steve straightening up in his seat. His voice is still slightly slurred, his eyes a bit unfocused - but he's nowhere near as drunk as he appeared seconds ago. Eddie's mouth tugs into a grin.

“What, I don't get a thank you for driving you? Where are your manners, little nymph?”

“Why should I thank you for doing your literal job?” Steve’s mirror image scoffs at him. His bottom lip is pink and a little puffy where his father slapped him. “And don't call me that.”

“I'm a bodyguard, not a chauffeur,” Eddie says. “There's a difference, y’know?”

“You're a dog,” Steve drawls. “You do whatever my dad tells you to.”

Eddie’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. Steve’s mouth curls at the edges, but his eyes stay bored.

“How about you?” Eddie asks, once he has blinked the crimson shadows from his vision. “What did you do to incur his wrath? Must’ve been pretty bad, if you feigned being so wasted he’d send you home like some misbehaving child.”

“None of your business, is it?” Steve snaps. Then, after a second or two, the aloof facade slips back on and he shrugs. “He caught me in the bathroom with Hagan.”

Something slithers low in Eddie’s gut, dangerous and deadly like a coil of venomous snakes.

“What? That ugly, freckled fuckface? C’mon, you can do better than that.”

Steve laughs, a sound like the edge of a knife - bright and pretty and sharp-edged. “Why do you care? You don’t own me. What is it to you if Tommy fucking Hagan shoves his cock up my-”

He doesn’t get any further than that. Eddie pulls over to the side of the road and slams on the brakes. One fluid motion later, he has scaled the middle console and has Steve pinned on the backseat, wrists trapped over his head in a one-handed vice grip.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, voice low and lethal. “But this is where you’re wrong, see? You are mine. And one of these days, I’m gonna make sure everyone knows it.”

Those pretty eyes go wide as he slides the knife from its holster. The blade gleams, catching what little light there is in the dark car. With one flick of his wrist, he slices away the top button of Steve’s expensive shirt, revealing the long, graceful line of that neck. Steve exhales a shaky breath and his throat bops with it.

“One of these days,” Eddie murmurs, trailing the tip of the blade over tan skin, leaving just the thinnest of red lines. “I’m gonna kill everyone who ever looked at you or touched you wrong and claim you as mine. Stuff you so full of my cock you forget about everyone else, until the only word you remember is my name. Carve my initials into that pretty skin of yours so nobody ever forgets who you belong to.”

Steve looks up at him, eyes bright and hazy, and a little whimper falls from his perfect lips. He writhes deliciously in Eddie’s hold, and for a moment, Eddie thinks he’s scared, that he’s gonna plead for mercy.

But then he slots his leg between Steve’s thighs to hold him in place and he feels it. He looks down at the boy in awed surprise and can’t help the grin that creeps over his face.

When Steve speaks, his voice is hoarse and breathy, but not from fear.

“Do it, then,” he challenges, rolling his hips and grinding his hard cock against Eddie’s thigh. His lips strain to meet Eddie’s, breath warm and wet against his skin. “Make me yours.”

Eddie has never been so happy to obey in his life.

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's 1k follower ficlets #kiss that ring #mafia au

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sweetteainthesummerx · 1 day

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THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (11)

In which the Europe trip starts

series masterlist

Note: this is kind of a filler chapter, but I'll keep updating! If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know. Enjoy :)

aubreyyang posted on their story

caption: ready for the next two weeks :)

dior.n.goodjohn replied

GONNA MISS U AND U BETTER COME BACK W A MAN

aubreyyang

gonna pretend I only heard the first part ILL MY U TOO

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang looking for a London boy

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

liked by swift_009, alexandrasaintmleux and 99,003 others

view all comments

taylorswift love

-- aubreyyang OH MOTHER

alexandrasaintmleux hâte pour l'europe avec ma belle 💞

-- aubreyyang YAY je peux pas attendre!!

user1 damn she getting brave

user2 someone tell her ollie is from essex

charlesleclerc did u just steal my girlfriend

-- aubreyyang I got tired of third wheeling

olliebearman posted on their story

caption: in London today 🇬🇧

landonorris replied to your story

U ARE NOT SLICK

olliebearman

alexandrasaintmleux posted on their story

alexandrasaintmleux with my boyfriend, his son and my girlfriend

tagged: olliebearman, aubreyyang, charlesleclerc

aubreyyang replied to your story

WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME

alexandrasaintmleux

pls just kiss the tension is wild

Sighing, Aubrey slipped her phone back into her pocket. Alex and Charles meant well, but…Ollie meant too much to her to ever risk ruining their friendship. When he crashed, she remembered halting the scene they were blocking because of the sheer amount of notifications she was getting. Her phone dropped out of her hand when she read the first headline, one of the assistants catching it and placing it back into her shaky grip. She felt tears welling up at the photo of the mutilated car. Finally, when he picked up, the relief had hit her like a tsunami. She was afraid of what this sweet boy could make her feel.

“I’ve got it.” Ollie came up behind her in the aisle, chest pressed up against her back, long arms looping around to hoist her (very heavy) luggage easily into the over head storage.

The last time they'd seen each other in person was the club in London. Even then, when they'd only known each other for a little bit, he had given her a hug, guided her where to go, held her drink for her...

And she realized that he was such a touchy feely person and she loved it.

She flashed him a grateful smile in thanks, and tucked herself into the window seat. She watched as he put his much smaller luggage up and helped the elderly woman behind him too.

As she watched him, she realized something. Obviously, he was tall. His mom, Terri, as the older woman insisted Aubrey call her, had shown her some photos of his teenage years, lanky and stretched, with big hands and feet like a huge puppy. But he was one of the tallest on the grid now, the growth spurts of youth still seemingly present. But she hadn’t noticed how broad he’d gotten. Sure, he’d been toned when they met, and she’d been very taken by his arms, but his shoulders looked so wide in his blue sweatshirt and his neck so thick. His chest was maybe four of her hands outstretched. She wanted to check. For science, of course.

He sidled back to her, long legs stretching put and bumping hers.

“Excited?” He grinned, and she had to smile herself.

“It’s a two hour flight, Bearman.”

“Yeah, so we have lots of time. What’s your favourite colour?”

“What?” She laughed, a little shocked.

“No, I’m serious.” He poked her arm, “We hardly talk about this stuff. I want to know you better.”

“Red. I think I really like red.”

charles_leclerc posted

charles_leclerc bread. beer. bon.

liked by charl_locklerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and 990,226 others

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charl_locklerc yo who took that photo of him and Alex

aubreyyang never eating a pretzel again

-- charles_leclerc this is why you pace yourself

-- aubreyyang you would know

-- user1 THE SHADE BAJAJA

-- user2 CONFIRMED SHES WITH THEM IN GERMANU HIEFJIEK

olliebearman don't tell them about the beer

--bearheartxx WHAEJOT HES WITH THEM TOO HIM AND AUBREY HAVE TO BE DATING RIGHT RIGHT

aubreyyang posted to their story

caption: pretty view 🏞️

olliebearman replied to your story

pretty girl more like

aubreyyang

I had a very handsome photographer

dallas_liu replied to your story

BRING ME BACK BREAD PLS

olliebearman posted on their story

caption: actually pretty wild

f1wagsupdate posted

clip one: a video taken from afar on a grainy iPhone camera, four figures walking out of a club in Berlin, Germany. It zooms in, and we see that it is two renowned Ferrari drivers, Leclerc and Bearman. Walking between them with linked arms are Saint Mleux and Yang.

f1wagsupdate during the f1 summer break, Ferrari drivers Leclerc and Bearman are seen with girlfriend and potential girlfriend partying in Germany.

liked by f1girlypop, user1 and 8620 others

f1girlypop YES WERE ABOUT TO GET SUCH GOOD CONTENT

user1 manifesting this is real PLS

user2 stop the hand placement 😫 Ollies hand on her back

cutiesgrid24 the height difference is everything my cousin was there and she said right after that video he picked her up and carried her because her heel broke

-- user1 WIEHFIJOE I just went into cardiac arrest THATS SO CUTEE

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls @destinyg237

#f1 drivers #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #ollie bearman x female reader #Ollie Bearman x female character #mutual pining #social media au #formula 2 #friends to lovers #celebrity!reader #actress!reader #director!reader

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delicatebarness · 3 days

Text

i think he knows | chapter thirteen

Summary: Netflix & Chill?

Warnings: Kissing.

Word Count: 1076

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Series’ Spotify Playlist

A/N: Oh Bucky, if only more men were like you.

You stood in the corner, the anticipation hummed as you checked your phone for what felt like the hundredth time. The streetlamp cast a soft glow around you as seven o’clock hit and just like he promised, Bucky was riding toward you.

It was like a scene from a movie, a small smile played on his lips as he caught sight of you. Your heart skipped a beat as the familiar rush of warmth flooded through you.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice soft as he parked the motorcycle up by your side. “You ready?”

You nodded, a grim spreading across your face. He handed you his helmet and you took a glance around to ensure that no one was watching before strapping on the helmet and climbing onto the bike.

Together you set off into the night, the cool air blowing through your hair once again. As you wrapped your arms tighter around Bucky’s waist, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. Eventually, you arrived at Bucky’s house, there was a spill of light coming from the windows.

“Welcome to Fort Barnes,” he said as he led you inside, the scent of popcorn filling your scents as you slipped your shoes off. Bucky gestured for you to follow him into the living room and toward the makeshift blanket fort he had built in the center of the room. “I hope you like it.”

Your eyes began to well as you took in everything. “It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filling with awe as you settled into the pile of pillows and blankets.

Bucky’s eyes shone with excitement as he watched you take in the fort, he had built it with the care that was feigned to him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve built anything like this,” he admitted, as he gestured toward the fort. “But, I wanted tonight to be special.”

His words swelled your heart, and a rush of emotions washed over you. “It is special,” your voice responded, barely a whisper as you met his gaze. “ Being here with you, it means everything to me.”

He finally joined you amongst the fort, his smile somehow widening at your words, he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “I’m glad,” he said softly, his thumb tracing a gentle path along your cheek. “I want tonight to just be the beginning,”

He reached for the bowl of popcorn, a playful glint in his eyes as he offered you a handful. Your fingers brushed against his as you reached out, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You couldn’t help but meet his gaze, a mix of excitement and longing filling the air between you.

For a moment, you were lost in his eyes, everything began to fade, the secrets, the fort, the popcorn, everything. And then, Bucky pulled back slightly, he broke the spell as he settled beside you.

There was a sense of contentment washing over you as you nestled together, wrapped in each other’s arms. You found yourselves sharing stories and secrets, opening up to each other in a way you hadn’t allowed each other to do so far. And with every word you exchanged with each other, the connection between you deepened.

An undeniable tension grew between you as the night went on. With a playful glint in his eyes, he turned to you, “I don’t know about you,” his voice was low and husky. “But, I’ve been thinking about doing this all night.”

Anticipation coiled in the pit of your stomach as you searched his gaze waiting for his reply. Yet, without a word, he closed the distance between you and your lips met in a hungry, desperate kiss.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you melted into each other's embrace. You moaned softly against his lips, the sound drove him wild. Your hands roamed over his arms, tracing the contours of his muscles.

With a low growl, he shifted, pressing you against the pills and hovering over you. You gasped as his lips began to trail down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your skin.

His touch sent waves of heat rushing through your veins as you surrendered to the sensation of his lips. You arched your back, pressing yourself close to him. You craved more of his touch as he began to roam his hands over your body.

But as the intensity of the moment grew, you began to feel a sense of panic bubble up inside you. It tightened like a vice around your chest. Your breath caught in your throat as you gasped, trying to push the wave of anxiety down.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice beginning to tremble. “I… I think we should stop.”

He was lost in the heat of the moment, for a few heart-pounding moments, he didn’t stop.

Yet, your words did register with him as his movements slowed. Pulling back slightly, concern flickered over his gaze as he searched your face, his expression softened as he gave you space to collect yourself.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice filled with concern as he debated if he should pull further away or bring you into an embrace.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your breath shaky as you tried to steady yourself. “I’m okay, I just… I need a moment.”

He nodded, his concern deepened as he brushed away a tear that trickled down your cheek. “Take all the time you need,” he spoke softly.

You leaned into his touch, grateful for his understanding. You took a few deep breaths, a sense of calm taking over. After a few short moments, you reached out, intertwining your fingers with Bucky's.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, fidgeting with his fingers in yours. “I didn’t mean to… I just got overwhelmed.”

Bucky shook his head, tracing his thumb over the back of your hand. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” he tried to reassure you, his voice now soft and soothing. “We do things in your time, I’m here for you.”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders, you offered him a grateful smile. At that moment, you felt like you had found someone who cared for you and who would respect your boundaries.

He wrapped you in his arms once again, and a sense of peace settled over you as you sat quietly together in the fort. “I just want you to feel comfortable and safe.”

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#i think he knows series #i think he knows fic #i t #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #high school au

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dindjarindiaries · 1 day

Text

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 5

summary: Hunter navigates the sweet haunting of your stolen moment in the secret base as the conflict on Eirus rages on.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 6.624k

chapter 4 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 6

chapter 5 ⟹

Hunter woke with a start, his heart racing loud enough to thump against his eardrums as he gathered his bearings. He had to look next to him to make sure he was really alone in bed.

Because in his dreams, he had been in that secret base with you again, chasing the sweet taste of your affection in endless succession.

Hunter exhaled and ran a hand over his face. He glanced down and checked on the wound over his left side, lifting the secure wrap to see that it had made quite a bit of progress in healing overnight. Tech was going to want to check up on it again, if only to update the data he had already started to collect.

His comm chimed repeatedly on the bedside table. Hunter sighed and reached over to grab it, lifting it to his haunted lips as he spoke. “Yeah, I’m awake, Tech.”

“Good. Before you take over, it would be wise for me to do another analysis of your wound.”

Hunter smiled to himself. Even after all this time, it still amazed him how well he knew his squad. “Sure. I’ll let you in.”

Hunter set aside the comm and grunted as he stood from the bed. He was pleased to learn that he could walk without hunching over, a small yet crucial step in his healing. Hunter opened his door just as Tech walked up to it, and Hunter stood aside to let his brother enter.

“How was your shift?” Hunter hoped his strong concern wasn’t evident in his tone. He followed Tech inside of the room and sat on the end of his bed.

“As uneventful as usual.” Tech spoke while he worked, holding his datapad in one hand and a medical scanner in the other. “I imagine it was the same for Wrecker, who is now switching with Crosshair.”

Hunter’s brow furrowed. “‘Imagine?’ Do you know that for sure?”

Tech sighed and paused what he was doing, his helmet tilting at the sergeant. “Hunter, you cannot act as if it is a strong or even likely possibility that something has gone astray without us already being informed about it. We have, so far, had zero issues during our watch shifts.”

Still, Tech’s gaze softened at Hunter behind his goggles.

“Though I do understand that recent events have likely made you even more wary. You experienced a very close call.”

Hunter was the next one to soften as he reached forward to set a reassuring hand on Tech’s shoulder. “I’m fine, Tech.”

Tech lifted the scanner. “We have yet to prove that.”

Hunter huffed and let his hand fall back to his side. He took the wrap and moved it aside, letting Tech have access to the wound. The scanner’s red, gridded light assessed the skin while Tech fixed his attention on his datapad.

“Remarkable.” Tech’s eyes were wide with approval as he studied the data. Hunter lifted his brow. “The wound has healed almost exponentially overnight.” He gestured absentmindedly to the wrap that Hunter was beginning to secure back over his skin. “It would seem your effective work with the bandaging has paid off.”

There was a longing ache that struck deep within Hunter’s chest at the memory he hadn’t even been awake for. “I wish I could take the credit for it.”

Tech froze, his stare finding Hunter’s. “What do you mean?”

Hunter exhaled a soft breath and prepared himself for what was to come. “I wasn’t the one who wrapped it.”

Tech’s eyes narrowed before they widened even more than before. “Oh.” The skin around his eyes wrinkled as he no doubt smiled to himself underneath his helmet. “So, the senator had to gain access to—.”

“How else would she have done it, Tech?” Hunter couldn’t keep the defensive edge out of his tone as he raised an eyebrow at his brother. He shrugged and averted Tech’s gaze. “I wasn’t even conscious when she wrapped it, anyway.”

It was hard to miss Tech’s amused snickering. “Your wistful tone implies that you wish you had been.”

Hunter’s stare snapped back to Tech’s. “Wistful? That wasn’t…” He stopped, acknowledging his defeat. Hunter sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his knees. “I’m just not happy about the fact that I was out.”

“Understandable. To be in such a state of helplessness is difficult for anyone, especially a leader such as yourself.” Tech’s hand gestured to Hunter even as he continued to tap around the datapad. “I can imagine it was even more undesirable when you had the senator in your care.”

Hunter’s jaw tightened. That was something he had been trying not to think of. “I would feel the same if it was any of you.”

Tech shot Hunter a quick glance. “Certainly.” Before Hunter could even try to argue, Tech went on. “I have to say, this does explain the dazed behavior you exhibited during our return to the capitol. I had assumed it was from the loss of blood.”

“It was.” Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. All he found behind his eyelids were the same hauntings that had filled his dreams. “The lack of consciousness didn’t help, either.”

Tech hummed. “That is a fair assumption.” He set his datapad on his belt and nodded. “According to this data, you should be just fine to complete your normal activities, so long as you keep the wrap on for now. I will check on it again later this evening.”

Hunter relaxed his posture again and smiled at his brother. “Thanks, Tech.” He gestured with his head to the door. “Go get some rest.”

Tech offered a two-fingered salute before he turned on his heel and left the room. Hunter stayed where he was for a moment, hanging his head as he forced himself to focus on the day ahead. The galaxy couldn’t stop all because of a single, stolen moment with you, even if neither of you had even gotten the chance to talk about it yet.

Hunter was quick as he suited up, though he continued to mind the wrapping on his side. It was hard not to remember the way you had helped him with this process just over a day’s time ago, but this was also something Hunter had been doing on his own for years, and recalling the mundane routine made it just a little bit easier to get through.

His helmet was already on as he stepped out of his room, taking over the empty place where Tech had been before at your doors. With his back facing them, Hunter shut out everything except the farthest spaces to which his senses could reach, threatening to overwhelm them completely in favor of drowning out his own mind.

It had been long enough for a small throb to invade both his temples when he finally heard movement just behind your doors. Hunter shut down his senses, but still waited until the doors opened to turn around. As soon as his visor found you, he picked up on a skipping heartbeat, but it was impossible to tell if it was yours or his own.

Your first moment alone together since…

“Good morning, Sergeant.” Your voice was as kind as ever as you bowed your head at him, though your gaze never left his. There was a confusing mixture of emotions hidden within its depths.

“Senator.” Hunter returned the gesture. “I hope you slept well.”

Your eyes flashed with a light Hunter couldn’t quite catch, but you smiled nevertheless. “I did.” Your brow furrowed as your stare lowered to his side. “How’s your wound?”

The corners of Hunter’s mouth began to rise at your evident concern. “Much better. Tech said it’s almost completely healed.” Hunter dared to take just a small step closer to you. “He also said the effectiveness of the wrap had much to do with it.”

You beamed at him, maintaining your intense stare. “That makes me very happy to hear.” Some of the light in your eyes faded as you embraced your vulnerability. “I was very worried.”

Hunter’s chest ached for you. “You don’t have to worry about me, Senator.”

This time, you were the one to take another step closer to him. Hunter tried not to consider how little room there was left between the two of you. “But I do, Hunter, just as you do for me.”

And there it was, the simple utterance of his name that filled Hunter with an unprecedented rush of warmth. It was only the second time he had heard you say it without his title, and it made him remember the first—that sweet, pleased sigh of longing that could get him to do just about anything for your sake.

The sound of a door opening snapped the two of you out of your shared haze. Both your heads turned to face Echo as he stepped through the threshold of his room. Hunter’s visor looked down at his feet as he stepped back to make room for his brother, though he could feel the burn of Echo’s observant gaze even through his own helmet.

“Sorry if I… interrupted something.” Echo didn’t bother to hide the smug smile in his voice. “I thought I heard some voices out here.”

“No apology necessary, Echo.” You were able to keep your voice even, something Hunter couldn’t trust himself to do, as you smiled at Echo. “The sergeant was just about to do the wake-up call.”

Your words were his reminder to do just that. Hunter lifted his fingers to the side of his helmet and spoke. “Time to get a move on, boys. Crosshair, you can head inside.”

Crosshair’s cool voice was quick to respond. “Goody.”

“What are you up to today, Senator?” Echo asked the question Hunter wanted to, but beat him to it. “Anything exciting?”

You huffed. “I’m afraid not. I have to try my hand at more diplomatic resolutions today.”

Your brow had furrowed with a weariness Hunter recognized all too well. He was captivated by an urge to reach out for you, but he tightened his fist to keep his hand at his side. “How’s that been going?” Hunter at least used his words to check in on you.

Your gaze slid over to his, and what he found there was less than promising. “Exactly how you’d imagine it would.”

Hunter tilted his helmet at you. It was the only gesture of reassurance he could offer with Echo, and soon to be more of the squad, around. “Well, we’re hitting the ground running today. We’re heading back to the village to check in with the residents and see if there’s anything we missed.”

“Thank you.” Your stare softened at him. “I wish I could go with you, but… duty calls.”

Hunter released a gentle exhale as the sounds of doors opening surrounded them. “As always.”

“Mornin’, everyone!” Wrecker sounded as joyful as usual before he clapped a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. He grunted, but stood his ground and turned his helmet to face his brother. “You actually joining us today, Sarge?”

Hunter nodded in Tech’s direction. “He cleared me for action.”

Tech pushed his goggles up and kept his finger lifted. “To be clear, it was the scanner that provided the data. I simply analyzed it for the most accurate results.”

The doors to the senator’s suite opened, and you stepped aside as Crosshair joined the group and somehow responded to Tech’s statement. “How many times are you going to explain that to us?”

Meanwhile, Hunter sighed at Crosshair’s actions. “I told you all already, we shouldn’t be reentering through that passage unless we have to. We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to it.”

Crosshair lifted his helmet to show Hunter his unimpressed look. “And having one of us standing directly outside the secret door isn’t drawing attention?”

Hunter tightened his jaw. “I just don’t think the senator would appreciate us coming and going from her suite unannounced.”

“I trust you all, Sergeant.” Your voice captured Hunter’s attention, and he turned his helmet to face you. “If it calls for less suspicion than reentering through the main exits, then it’s fine by me.”

“Ha!” Wrecker nudged Echo, who was closest to his other side. “She really is one of us, now.”

Hunter furrowed his brow at whatever unspoken conversation Wrecker was referencing, but you continued before he could ask about it. “I don’t take that compliment lightly, Wrecker. Thank you.” You beamed at Wrecker and set a hand on his armored shoulder. Hunter smiled. “I should get going, as should all of you. If you need to report,” you paused and turned to face Hunter, “you know how to reach me.”

Hunter nodded dutifully. You offered one last smile before you began to walk down the long corridor, where some of your personal guards were already waiting. He watched you until you reached them, his chest weighing heavier and heavier the further you got.

“Hunter?” Echo’s voice snapped Hunter’s attention back to the squad. He faced Echo, whose helmet had tilted at him. “Our orders?”

“Right.” Hunter had an easy time focusing back on the mission. He had yet to lead his squad into a single mission failure, after all. “We’re heading back to the village. We’ll do a sweep to make sure the hostiles are gone, and we’ll take any information we can get from the locals. We have to figure out where and how they’ll strike next.”

The squad nodded, and Hunter led them out of the capitol. Silence sat between the group until they reached the woods that surrounded the village. Wrecker was the one who walked up to Hunter’s side and started to speak. “So, Hunter, you’re really feeling better?”

Hunter tilted his head towards his brother. “Yeah, Wrecker.” He patted his hand against Wrecker’s back. “It was just a partial hit. Don’t even worry about it.”

“But it still led to a great deal of bleeding,” Tech insisted. “Had it not been for the senator, it is quite possible you could have bled out.”

“Had it not been for who?” Echo’s interest was clearly piqued.

Hunter sighed and palmed his helmet. He should’ve known better than to think he would be leaving all this back at the capitol.

“It was the senator who bandaged Hunter’s wound.” Tech’s matter-of-fact tone only made the information sound even worse somehow. “He told me so this morning after I had assessed it.”

Crosshair’s tone had just as much amusement as Echo’s did. “Were you going to tell the rest of us that too, Hunter?”

“If it ever became relevant, then yes, I would have.”

Wrecker suddenly gasped. It alerted Hunter until he heard what his brother had to say. “Wait… so that means the senator had to see—.”

Hunter wasn’t going to let him finish that sentence. “We get it, Wrecker.”

Tech couldn’t help himself from providing even more of the context Hunter had given him earlier. “Hunter was not conscious at the time.”

Crosshair huffed. “Bummer.”

Echo was next. “Do you wish you had been?”

Hunter chuckled. “Why would anyone rather be unconscious?”

Echo gave his helmet a quick tilt at that. “Fair point.”

Wrecker shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s kinda nice sometimes.”

“Not when it happens like that.” Hunter gave him a quick look. “Trust me.”

“It does at least explain your long absence before our rendezvous.” Tech, as always, was trying to do the math. “Though I can’t imagine where you could have possibly kept cover for so long.”

“An old base.” Hunter pointed to the far distance. “From the senator’s freedom fighting days. She got us both there.”

“While you were out?” Wrecker let out a whistle. “Wow, she’s even stronger than I thought.”

Hunter smiled to himself. “Yeah, she’s full of surprises.”

Crosshair’s voice was low as he responded. “You would know.”

Hunter curled up his fists at his sides, but said nothing. The group snickered amongst themselves as Hunter reached out with his senses. He was met with the familiarity of the village, which threatened to bring back memories he couldn’t afford to dwell on—especially not while he was alone with his squad. “We’re here.”

Hunter stopped the group and turned to face them. His straightened posture alone caused all of them to follow suit, turning themselves from teasing brothers to focused soldiers.

“The first priority is sweeping the village, and making sure the people are still safe.” Hunter scanned the group. “Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech, take the western half. Echo and I will take the other. Rendezvous back in the middle if you haven’t found anything.”

“Roger that, Sarge!” Wrecker gripped his blaster tighter and followed Crosshair and Tech to their side of the village. Hunter nodded at Echo before they headed for their half. He tried not to dwell on what had happened the last time he was there.

But Echo knew him well, even if he hadn’t been around as long as his other brothers. “Hunter.” His voice was low, almost like a warning, as Hunter used his senses to scout the area. “What really happened at that base?”

Hunter shot Echo a quick look. “What are you talking about?”

Echo huffed. “I know we’ve been getting on your case about the senator ever since we started this mission, but this morning was different.” He tilted his helmet at Hunter. “I felt that tension.”

Hunter tightened his jaw. “You’re reading into things too much.”

Echo scoffed. “Am I?” Hunter didn’t respond to that. Echo took his silence as an invitation to go on. “Look, Hunter, they didn’t make me an ARC trooper just because of my skills. It was also because of my ability to read people and situations. And that?” Echo let out a curt laugh. “That situation was easier to read than any plan I’ve ever had to decipher.”

Hunter exhaled. The heaviness of it all began to weigh on his shoulders as they pushed on through the village. “Don’t worry about it.” He had been doing enough worrying about it, about you, for the two of them—for all of them, if he was being honest.

Echo remained silent for a minute or so before he spoke out again. “Did you kiss her?”

Hunter’s helmet had never whipped around faster than it did then. “What?”

Echo met his brother’s gaze. “Is that what happened in the base? Did you two kiss?”

Hunter considered his next words carefully. Of course it had to be Echo, the one member of the squad he could never get away with lying to, who would figure it out first. With a small breath, Hunter prepared to answer. “Even if we did—.”

Echo set a firm hand on Hunter’s chestplate, keeping him from walking ahead. He leaned his helmet close to Hunter’s, keeping his voice low for the sake of privacy. “So, you did kiss?”

Hunter’s helmet tilted. “I said even if we did, it wouldn’t matter.” His gaze fell, though his visor remained where it was, as he spoke the same truth Echo had warned him of days ago. “The senator knows the rules, and so do I.”

Echo dropped his hand and gave his head an incredulous shake. “Come on, Hunter. Fuck the rules.” He pointed his finger into Hunter’s chestplate, near his heart. “You’re in love.”

“Love?” Hunter raised both his hands and shook his helmet. “Echo, that’s a big reach.”

“Is it?” Echo crossed his arms. “I know what I saw this morning.”

Hunter exhaled and set a hand on his hip. “Were you not the one reminding me of the rules just a few days ago?”

Echo chuckled. “Maybe I just wanted to know that you were serious about this.”

Hunter’s visor fell as he began to think through it all. It was an impossible task, especially with Echo’s expectant gaze on him. “I… don’t really know what to make of it.” He raised his gaze back to Echo’s. “All I know is that the senator has a duty to fulfill, and so do I.” Hunter gestured with his helmet to the village around them. “That’s what I have to focus on.”

Hunter started to walk forward past Echo, but he was stopped by Echo’s hand on his armored shoulder. He turned his helmet to face his brother. “Just remember, Hunter.” Echo nodded, giving Hunter’s shoulder a gentle pat. “You deserve to be happy, too.”

Hunter was too shocked by Echo’s words to say anything in response. Thankfully, Echo didn’t expect him to. He dropped his hand and continued walking, remaining in stride alongside Hunter as they continued their search. His words, however, were seared into Hunter’s memory, clouding each sense that he tried to reach out with.

Happiness wasn’t a luxury he had granted himself ever since he was put in command of his squad countless years ago. Could it really be something he prioritized, especially in a situation as delicate and dangerous as this?

That wasn’t a question he could answer, at least not now. Not when it felt like this village was still smoking from the explosion that had taken both you and him with it. No one was hurt this time around, but if Hunter didn’t focus on the task set before him, then people—your people—could get hurt next time.

Not to mention the fact he had his own squad to look after, his brothers. They were quite literally bred for war, and until he got them all onto the other side of it safely, he would continue to focus on them above all else.

Even if his mind, and his rapidly beating heart, would often drift back to you.

Hunter and Echo’s search was fruitless, and it wasn’t long before they met back up with the others in the middle of the village. The people there were frightened, but Hunter didn’t blame them. He still tried his best to coax them into conversation, attempting to get anything that would be useful. It was a vain effort.

“Hunter.” Echo’s sigh broke Hunter out of another pointless conversation. Hunter nodded at the villager to dismiss himself before he turned to his brother, who had removed his helmet to reveal his furrowed brow. “We’re not getting anywhere with this.”

Hunter exhaled a deep breath of his own and removed his helmet as well. “I know.” His gaze scanned the area as he thought through their next steps. “Now that they know someone’s countering these attacks, they’re being even more secretive.”

Crosshair slid into the conversation with a tilted helmet. “I still think somebody’s hiding something.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow at him. “We’re not gonna interrogate these people, Crosshair. We’ve already been bothering them enough.”

“They will not offer us a solution, anyway.” Tech was tapping away on his datapad as he joined the quickly forming huddle. “Considering our sweep for hostiles directly after the blast came up fruitless, they had already retreated at that point. Clearly, they were not ready for such a failure, and falling back was their best option.”

“Because they weren’t trained fighters.” Echo’s stare looked off into the distance as he spoke. Hunter’s brow knit together, but before he could speak, Echo returned Hunter’s stare and continued. “That’s what the senator said that night.”

Hunter ached just thinking of you. His jaw tightened as he continued to hold Echo’s gaze. “What are you getting at, Echo?”

Echo lifted a hand to gesture to their surroundings. “This place was an easy target for non-trained fighters. All they had to do was plant a bunch of explosives and set them off. Hunter…” he paused to convey his severity, “they’re saving their trained fighters for something.”

“Or someone.” Tech finished the thought Echo hadn’t spoken aloud. Hunter went cold, an icy chill running along his spine and souring his stomach. “An ingenious theory, Echo, that is quite sensible.” His attention went back to his datapad for a moment. “It is very likely that the trained fighters will strike the senator’s home village next. It would not only be a desirable target, but it would also achieve their goal of drawing her out.”

“We need to find out when this attack will happen.” Hunter’s response was immediate. He had to put one foot in front of the other and continue planning. His mind was given no other option. “When it does, we have to convince the senator to stay behind.”

Wrecker was the one to chuckle at Hunter’s words. “Good luck with that, Sarge. She almost loves action as much as I do.”

Hunter couldn’t even entertain the thought of you being there. “She’ll do what’s best for her people, and her people need her alive.” He nodded at the four pairs of eyes that looked upon him. “She’ll stay.”

“It is also possible that they will send a group to the planetary capitol in the event that she has stayed behind.” Tech offered up this information so nonchalantly that it added even more fuel to Hunter’s panicked fire. “Without us there, she would be more vulnerable to such a targeted attack.”

Hunter’s armored shoulders rose with a breath as he fell upon the realization. “That warning they sent during the banquet… this is how they’re making her choose.”

“It’s a lose-lose.” Echo looked around the group, but pointedly at Hunter, as he continued the sergeant’s train of thought. “If she stays, she’ll be at risk. If she doesn’t, then they’ll know she’s countering their attacks.”

“Why don’t we split up?” Wrecker offered the idea with a lilt of hopefulness. “One or two of us can stay at the capitol, and the rest can fight.”

Hunter shook his head. “We can’t split our forces. We have no idea how many fighters we’ll be against at the village, and that’s not a chance I’m willing to take. These aren’t battle droids.”

Hunter worked his jaw, quieting the volume of his worries to focus on a new plan—but there was nothing he could, not without you there to offer your own input. He couldn’t speak on your behalf when the stakes were this high.

“It’ll be her choice.” Hunter narrowed his eyes as he looked at his squad. “And whatever that choice is, we’re standing behind her.”

Everyone nodded. Hunter smiled with satisfaction and turned to face Tech.

“How far is the village from here?”

Tech was quick to map it out. “About a standard hour on foot.”

Hunter nodded and slid his helmet over his head. “Get ready for a scenic walk, boys. We should at least make sure this theory of ours is true.”

Wrecker grumbled, but didn’t make any other protests. Hunter led the group with Tech, and they remained silent the entire way there. Hunter’s mind was much too busy for him to say anything, and he was working overtime not to dwell on his worries for you. This would only put more pressure on you, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Once Tech had given him the warning of their proximity to the village, Hunter reached out with his senses. It wasn’t long before he held up his fist to stop the group, lowering himself closer to the ground and sifting the dirt through his gloved fingers.

It told him a story of fighters on foot, boots running through the soil in a nearly endless stream. When he closed his eyes, he could hear the rumblings of a massive camp, nothing distinct enough to make out but surely enough to confirm their presence.

“There’s a camp.” Hunter rose back to his full height and pointed to the source. “Let’s try to scope it out.”

He quickened his pace, and the squad followed suit. When they got close, Hunter stopped them again, instructing Crosshair to get up high. The rest of them waited, and Hunter drew out his binocs to see if he could catch sight of them at their lower position.

“I see it.” Crosshair’s words captured everyone’s attention as they looked up at him. “Good call not splitting our forces, Hunter. I’m clocking at least two dozen of them here.”

Hunter sighed, lowering one of his hands from the binocs to tighten it into a fist. “And they probably have more forces doing patrols.” He slid his binocs back into his pack and motioned for Crosshair to climb down. “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us. We’ll come back tomorrow to see if we can get an estimate on when the attack will happen. For now…”

Hunter paused, staring at the sky through the trees. With all their searching and traveling, he hadn’t realized just how quickly time was passing.

“We have to head back. Once we’ve gotten some chow, I’ll brief the senator.”

With that, Hunter began to lead the way back to the capitol. The silence on the way back was solely centered around Hunter, as he heard the chatter of the squad behind him throughout the journey. All he could do was plan out exactly how he would confess this to you.

There was only one thing he knew for certain: satisfying his own desires had just become even less of a priority.

Hunter remained lost in his thoughts even as they returned to the capitol and had a meal. He was working out countless plans and strategies, seeing if there were any scenarios in which you wouldn’t have to make such a choice. Time and time again, he came up with nothing. They had crafted a brilliant strategy. It made Hunter miss fighting battle droids.

Tech and Echo were the first two on watch, with Echo joining Hunter outside the doors to the senator’s suite. Tech had already made his way to the secret door on the outside. Hunter exchanged a nod with Echo before he knocked on the doors, preparing himself for a briefing that was going to be harder than any other.

Your doors opened in short order, and for a moment, Hunter enjoyed the sweeping wave of relief and comfort he earned simply from laying his eyes on you. The way you beamed at him suggested that you were doing the very same. “Sergeant.” You bowed your head in greeting before turning to Echo. “Echo.”

“Ma’am.” Echo returned your slight bow.

“Senator, I have our briefing ready for you.” Hunter gestured with his gaze to the inside of your suite. “May I?”

You stepped back and lifted your arm. “By all means, Sergeant. I’m eager to hear what you have to say.”

Hunter tightened his jaw, and he struggled not to make it obvious. He could feel Echo’s stare burning into the back of his head until the doors closed, leaving you and him alone inside your suite. If he wasn’t holding such a new, heavy weight on his shoulders, Hunter would have had half a mind to continue what you both had started in that secret base.

“How did it go?” It was your hopeful voice that drew Hunter from the dark depths of his mind. His stare found yours, and the way your expression started to fall meant that he wasn’t as good at hiding from you as he hoped he would be.

Hunter focused on the positives first. “There wasn’t much in the village, but you’ll be happy to hear that everyone there is okay.”

You exhaled a heavy breath and closed your eyes, lowering your head for a long moment. “Good.” Your eyes reopened and settled back on Hunter again. “I really needed to hear that.”

Hunter was able to manage a small yet genuine smile. “I’m glad I could deliver some good news.”

Your brow furrowed. “What’s the bad news?”

Of course you still saw that written all over him. A single smile wasn’t going to fool someone as intelligent as you. Hunter took a deep breath and looked to the side for a moment, waiting until he had regathered his thoughts to take a step closer to you and speak in a low voice. “We know where the next attack will be.”

Hunter paused, giving you time. You said nothing, but the way your fingers fumbled together over your middle spoke for you.

“They’re targeting your home village.”

You stared at him in pure disbelief for a few breaths. Hunter searched every inch of your gaze for something, but what he found instead was the quickened pace of your heartbeat. It was different from the way it had drummed so rhythmically against his ears when your lips were on his; this was a panicked beat, one that Hunter was used to hearing so much more often.

You raised a hand to your lips before you spoke. “When?”

Hunter shook his head. “We’re not sure yet. Our goal for tomorrow is finding that out.” He sighed, making sure you had nothing else to say before he went on. “That’s not all of it.”

Your brow rose, but the defeat in your gaze was hard to overlook. Hunter wished more than anything he didn’t have to say the words, even if you had to hear them.

“They’re the trained fighters you once fought with. We found at least two dozen at a camp by your village. Right now, our biggest theory is that on the night of the attack, they’ll send a few fighters here to go after you.”

Hunter gave you time to process his words, and that’s when he saw the defeat completely overtake you. “That means…” You couldn’t bring the truth to light.

Hunter would do that for you, too. “They’re going to make you choose, Senator, just as they warned you at the banquet.” His gaze fell from yours. “Either they’ll find you here, or they’ll find you there.”

When Hunter gained the faith to look at you again, his chest constricted at the sight of your hand covering the side of your face. Your eyes were closed as if you were in pain, and the way your free hand was gripping your arm suggested the very same thing. Hunter took another small step closer to you.

“I’m sorry you have to make this choice. I know I told you before that you wouldn’t have to.” Hunter nodded, even if your closed eyes kept you from seeing it. “But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re standing behind whatever decision you make.”

You continued to remain where you were for a few more moments. When you reopened your eyes and lowered your hand, Hunter saw the sparkling tears at your waterline. His brow wrinkled together as a familiar sense of strong concern washed over him.

“Senator?” Hunter’s voice was soft as he spoke. He reached a hand towards your face, but hesitated, instead resolving to set it upon your shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I just…” Your breath caught, the tears shining in your eyes even more as you avoided Hunter’s gaze. “Nothing is working. Diplomacy is failing, they’re outnumbering us in combat, and I just… I don’t know what to do.”

You paused, your stare slowly sliding to meet Hunter’s again. His own heart crumbled apart when he saw the pure devastation and desperation in your eyes.

“I never wanted any of this. They were the ones who chose me.” You closed your eyes and shook your head. “I’m tired, I’m angry, and…” you paused, your eyes reopening to meet Hunter’s as your voice lowered to a broken whisper, “I’m scared, Hunter.”

You reached out in a subtle movement, but Hunter understood it and accepted it before could even make sense of it. He set his helmet aside and took you into his arms, letting you hold tight to his middle as your head fell into the space between his armor and his neck. One of his hands pressed upon your back as the other held your head in place, and his chin rested upon your head as he reached out with his senses.

You were taking small breaths to steady yourself, though it at least didn’t sound like you were crying. Your heartbeat was still faster than usual, but so was his, and he had no doubt that this intimate touch was responsible for it. But Hunter couldn’t, and didn’t, dwell on that. What mattered most was putting you at ease.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Hunter closed his eyes for a moment. “I wish I could make it stop. I had hoped my whole squad could make that possible.”

“It’s not your fault.” Your voice was slightly muffled by Hunter’s armor as you responded. “You’ve helped in more ways than you know.” You paused. “You all have.”

“And we’ll continue to.” Hunter gained the faith to ease himself away from you. Still, he kept himself close, and he finally let himself touch your face. His gloved hands held either side of it as he nodded at you. “You don’t have to do this alone. Not as long as we’re here.”

Your hands found his wrists and held them tightly. Hunter was pleased to see the ghost of a smile tugging on your lips. “Thank you.”

Hunter returned your small smile. “No need.” His brow furrowed as he returned to a state of soft severity for you. “You don’t have to make this choice yet. There’s still time for that. What you need to do right now is rest.”

He caught your gaze flickering to his lips for a moment before you nodded. “I’ll try my best.”

“Good.” Hunter bent down to kiss your forehead before he could think better of it. For as new as the action was, it was instinctual, and he didn’t have to give it a second thought. He pulled away and dropped his hands from your face as he instead turned to grab his helmet again. “I should get some rest, too. Tomorrow could be a long day.”

Hunter saw you nodding once again in his periphery. “Yes, that’s a wise decision.”

Once his helmet was tucked underneath his arm, Hunter stopped and caught your stare. For a long moment, he considered staying and allowing you to drown your worries in the pleasure of what you had shared just two nights ago. Then, reality fell into place once again, and he remembered the burning feeling of Echo’s stare as he had entered the suite. Hunter bowed his head and spoke in a low voice. “Goodnight, Senator.”

Hunter turned and began to walk towards the doors, but your voice stopped him in his tracks. “Hunter?”

He turned on his heel, making himself face you again. You walked up to him and caressed the tattooed half of his face, pressing your lips against his other cheek. The skipping heartbeat he heard was no doubt his own as you pulled away with lingering lips and a warm smile.

“Sweet dreams.”

Hunter nodded, returning your smile before he summoned all his strength to turn around and keep going. There was a lot that awaited him on the other side of the door: a smug Echo, a long night of restless sleep, and an early watch shift that would no doubt be full of more planning. But it was the warmth of your words and actions that would make it all bearable, even if Hunter couldn’t let himself ask for more of it just yet.

chapter 4 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 6

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb

senator’s shadow tag list: @violetlilly2020 @jellybeanstacey0519 @dindadjarin

#and so the yearn continues. with a heaping side of angst you're welcome xx #hunter bad batch #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #hunter bad batch x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter tbb x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #senator's shadow #dindjarindiaries

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resi4skz · 1 day

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Title: Mi Amore (oneshot)

Pairing: nonidol!Chan x Grace (OC)

Warnings: swearing in italian, smut

This is for @gracebang143 (i cannot tag her in it, stupid tumblr)

!! MINORS DNI !!

"Ugh, for the last time, Steph!" I exclaim as I put ice in the blender, chatter of customers in the background. "Olivia is my cousin and he's her boyfriend!"

"So?" She says and turns at the till, smiling at the customer. "Thank you for choosing Stat Lost, have a nice day!" She turns to me as she closes the register. "Look, we both know what of a person Olivia is. She's probably moved on to the ne-"

The sound of the small hanging bell on the door cuts her off. We both look at the front door at the same time to see my cousin, Olivia and her boyfriend, Chris.

Or Chan, as I like to call him. He was dressed in a black shirt and blue jeans, topped off with a black cap.

Gosh.

Why did he have to be so damn attractive?

Olivia walks over to a vacant table as Chan approaches me. I put on the biggest smile, as if he isn't my regular. "Hey, you're back."

"Yeah," he replies, taking out his wallet. "She'll have a macchiato with a cheese scone and I'll have a-"

"BLT with extra bacon and a watermelon lemonade?" I finish his sentence.

His eyes light up, giving me a small smile. "Yeah. Wow. You even remember customers orders?"

Only yours, is what I wanted to say. "Sort of. Since you're a regular here so I took the liberty of memorizing your order."

"Wow."

I tap on the computer screen taking his order and scan his card before giving it back. "Your order will be with you shortly."

"Thanks."

When I turn around, Stephanie is looking at me with a smirk on her face. Rolling my eyes, I start on his sandwich. Just gotta get through it. You can do it, Grace.

Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain on my finger. "Cazzo!" I glance down and see a small cut on my finger. Great, just I need. Quickly cleaning my hand, I gently wrap my finger in a bandaid.

"Everything alright?"

I jump at the voice before turning around. He needs to stop being so god damn good looking. "Yes. Your order is ready. Give me one moment." I put their order on a tray a d hand it to him. "Thank you for choosing Star Lost, I hope you enjoy your order!"

He chuckles, nodding. "Thank you, Grace."

My heart does that thing again. Oh wait, that's my stomach. I groan when he sits at the table with Olivia. "Have you maybe tried confessing?" Steph asks from behind me.

"What good will that do?"

"Maybe he'll realize what a crappy of girlfriend he has right now and maybe likes you back?"

Hanging my head in defeat, I walks towards the back door. I need a break.

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

But when I come inside, I hear Steph and Olivia in a heated argument.

"What do you mean I can't have a free muffin? It's my cousin's bakery!" Olivia shouted.

"Because if we started giving away free muffins," I state stepping behind the counter and face her, "We'd be out of business. And it's not my bakery. Steph and I are partners."

"You're greedy. Why can't you just say that?"

"Babe, maybe we should-" Chan began.

"No, you stay out of this!" She brushes him off.

The fuck.....did she just tell him off? My blood boils, my nerves lighting on fire. "Olivia, simply just leave before you piss me off anymore."

"What?" She blinks at me. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"You want to know what my problem is? You might need a notepad because the list is long."

"Fuck you," she spat. "I hope this shitty place rots."

"Ah, the words from the famous home wrecker Olivia James," I say.

"Home wrecker?" Chan says as he looks between Olivia and I.

"Chan, don't listen to he-"

But I cut her off. I've had it with her bullshit. "Let me ask you something, Liv. Did you also try to lure him into your trap so he would give you money? Or are you fucking his buddies too like you did with Mr. Stanley?"

Mr. Stanley was our neighbor and his lovely wife, Diana would always bake these pecan pies that was mouth watering. One day, Mr. Stanley came to our house to drop off a pie and Olivia was the only one home. One thing led to another, once Olivia saw he was loaded, she seduced him and ended up sleeping with him. Many, many times. It wasn't until Diana saw them going at it in her home, on the kitchen table because she had gotten off work early.

Safe to say, Diana is divorced and thriving by travelling the world with her friends.

The look on Olivia's face is priceless though. "You...bitch!" She lunges at me from across the counter but I was quick to dodge.

Chan pulls her back and shoves her back before facing her.

Steph elbows me and whispers, "$10 says they break up."

"It all makes sense now."

"Chan, babe. Please listen to me." Olivia pleads. "She's lying."

"No," Chan says firmly. "You're always putting me second. You're always asking to go to expensive restaurants and to think I was spending so much on you. Tell me something," he takes a step towards her, completely towering over her. "Did Jake treat you well?"

"What?"

"Did he tell you to come here with me? Did he also tell you I was also going here?"

"Wha....what are you talking about?"

And then I see a different person come out. A new person who I wanted to know so desperately about. He runs his hand through his curls and smirks. The man actually smriked. "Why do you think I wanted to come here, Olivia?"

"You asked me on a date," Olivia replies. "What does this have to do with-"

"I know about you and Jake."

Oh shit. I watch Olivia's face turn into horror as she opens her mouth. "You're the one always yapping about your music all the time. I don't get what the big deal is, you're never going to make it."

I saw red. My blood was boiling. "Fermati!" I march over to Olivia as she blinks at me. "You do not get to judge a person based on their profession. You do not get to make assumptions. YOU do not put negative things in their mind to the point they want to end their lives."

But she rolls her eyes. "Please, you just had a scratch-"

I shove my shirt up on my arm, showing her the long scar going up to my elbow. "Does this look like a scratch to you that YOU caused?"

"What the..." Chan says and looks at Olivia, who's seething in anger. "I though you said she fell."

"She's lying," Olivia replied, her eyes narrowed at me.

"Oh, so you're saying that I magically got a knife and stabbed myself, making a huge line on my arm?"

"You bitch!" Olivia lunges at me but Steph stands in front of me and pushes her back.

"No one is fighting in our cafe, okay?" Steph announces then points at Olivia. "As for you, get out. You're no longer welcomed here."

"What?"

"Better yet, you're black listed from this cafe."

Olivia huffs and stomps her way out of the shop. "You alright?" Steph asks

"Yeah, thanks," I smiled and she gets behind the counter, immediately apologizing to the customers.

"Hey."

I slightly jump at his voice and turn around.

"Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that."

He scoffs. "I'll be fine."

I nod. "Alright, well. I gotta get back to work." I make it two steps when he calls my name.

"Grace."

I turn. "Yeah?"

He looks at me, almost as if he wanted to ask me something. But he just shakes his head. "Nothing. Have a good day at work." And then he's gone.

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

It was Friday and rush hour was just finishing when something catches my eye outside. "Che due coglioni?" I watch as Olivia tries to kiss Chan and he keeps pushing her back.

"Is she for real?" Steph says.

"I've had enough of this," I snap, taking my apron off and walking towards the door. When I open the door, I hear her crying.

"Chan, please. You've gotta believe me," she wails.

"Olivia, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I say.

Chan's eyes flicker towards me, almost lighting up making my heart skip a beat. "This doesn't concern you," Olivia hisses at me.

"Porca miseria, questa cagna!" She blinks at me surprised and I stand in front of her. "This man," I point to Chan, "has been nothing but loving towards you, has given you the time he should've spent elsewhere other than your stupid ass. You," I jab at her chest, "do not have the right to control someone as kind as him. You," I jab at her chest again making her stumble back a step, "do not get to do that to him."

"Grace," I hear Chan say from behind me.

"Do you even realize how hard it is to chase your dreams when no one belives in you? Of course, you don't because all you get to do is use others and degrade them till they have nothing left in them."

"Grace."

"What?!" I snap as I turn around, sniffling. Was I crying? But I don't get to touch my face as I feel a pair of warm hands cup my cheeks. "Cha-"

His lips. Oh my god his lips. My hands stay at my sides because I don't know where to put them. As he lets go, I look up at him. "I've been meaning to do that."

"What?" I blinked, perplexed.

"She's gone," Steph's voice makes us jump apart a step away from each other and she comes to my side. "Jeez, she's like a lizard, always coming in between."

I snort which leads to laughter as she beams at me. "Come inside! I'll make you guys something to drink!"

I watch as she heads inside before turning to him. "So..."

"So."

"What did you mean by what you said earlier?" I asked.

"Look-"

"Why did you kiss me?"

He sighs. "I never liked Olivia. She was just there, I guess to fill that void," he flicks his eyes down at me, "but that void was never filled."

I scoff, not believing what he just said. "So you mean to say, that you dated her-"

"I never da-"

"-just so you could dump her and then coincidentally you thought that a kiss would solve all the problems?"

"Look, Grace-"

"No," I say firmly. "You look here, Chan. I'm not the one to messed around with. And you were the least out of all the people I knew that would do something like this." His eyes widen at my comment and raises his hand but I put my hand up, stopping him. "No. I can't look at you right now."

And with that, I turn around and leave. Steph gives me one look once I'm inside and immediately gives me space as I go back to refilling the ice machine.

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

A few weeks later, I finally had a few days off. I wanted to destress and just chill and relax in my apartment. But what I didn't know was that Chan would be standing at my doorway looking like he had been run over by a truck while I was in a tanktop and pj shorts with a bag of chips on my hand.

"W-what are you doing here?" I asked, clutching the chip bag.

"Can I...can I come in?" His voice trembled.

"Yeah, come in," I stand aside to let him in. As he walks by me, the same vanilla and smoke scent fills my nostrils, making me a bit dizzy.

"Do you want anything to drink? Water? Soda?" I ask, closing the door behind me.

"Water, thanks," he replies taking a seat on my couch.

Fuck. Never in my 22 years of my life, I imagined a man in my living room. Let alone Chan, the 28 year old man that I had been crushing on since I was 19. I hand him the glass of water and sit beside him.

"Nice place."

"Thanks," I replied. After a beat, I say, "So, what brings you here?"

"Olivia paid a visit."

"Oh?"

"And smashed all the windows of my car."

"What?!" I knew she would stoop low but to this level? "Are you okay?"

His eyes flicks up at me. "That's funny."

"Huh? What is?"

"Olivia would've asked if my car was okay. She wouldn't even ask me if I was alright."

"Well, she's a bitch," I huff, crossing my arms.

He snorts. "She did teach me one thing though." He turns his body sonhe's facing me. "To never take what's already in front of you for granted."

Holy fucking greek god. Why does this dude have to be so damn pretty? "You're lucky you're attractive, Chan. Any woman would be happy to have you."

"Look, about the kiss then-"

But I stand up. "I'm going to make some tea." I hurriedly walk into the kitchen and immediately fill the kettle with water. It was a good distraction-

An arm snakes it's way around my waist. I gasp, dropping the kettle in the sink and turn around. "What are you doing?!

"Why do you think I kept coming back to your cafe?"

"Because you like the cakes we make?"

"I came to see you, even on busy days where I could catch a glimpse of you working behind the counter refilling stoxk items. Once, Steph caught me staring at you and made me buy 10 pastries," he explains snorting. "Let's just say my friends got a piece each."

"Why are you-"

"-telling you?" He finishes my sentence. "Because I like you."

"I'm sorry, what?" My ears are deceiving me.

He giggles, poking my cheek. "I like you, Grace. I have for a long time now."

"How long?"

"3 years."

I blink at his answer. "I..I... don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

I look at him. "But you just told me you like me. How do you expect me to not say anything? To say that I like you as well?"

"Grace, you're not obligated to say- wait, what?" Turning his head, he blinks at me.

"What?" I try so hard to not smile.

"You just said you like me."

"No, I didn't," I lied, hiding my smile.

"Grace," his hand comes to cup my face, lifting my head to meet his eyes. "Tell me before I lose my mind."

"What happens if you lose your mind?"

His gaze hardens. "You don't want to know."

I wet my lips, partially opening my mouth. "Maybe I do." I hear him growl before he smashes his lips on mine. This time, neither of us push away. His tongue darts out and I open my mouth. His hand rub my arms, up and down. "Channie," I whimper, heat pooling between my thighs.

"Yeah, baby?" He says, his thumb brushing my lower lip.

"Can we, uhm, can we take this to the bedroom?"

He chuckles as he slides his arms around my ass hoisting me up. "Say less."

He practically sprints into my room and gently lays me down on my bed. His eye catches my blanket, the pink poka dots on the white colored sheet. "What?" I ask.

"Nothing," he shakes his head and takes his shirt off.

My breath hitches in my throat. Holy fuck. I knew he was fit but this.....holy fucking shit. Then his takes his jeans off, leaving a lot for my imagination when I see the buldge in his boxers as he takes those off too.

"Now you."

I sit up and take my tanktop off. My breasts bounce as I had no bra on. "Fuck me, Grace. You're beautiful."

My cheeks heat at the compliment and my arms come up automatically to hide myself but his hand stops me. "Don't hide yourself," he said as he hovers above me. "Fuck, I'm trying so hard to hold myself back."

"Don't," I gulp. "Don't hold yourself back."

"You sure? I don't want to hurt you."

I narrow my eyes and pull him down by his neck. "Channie if you don't fuck me in the next 5 seconds, I'm going to burn your clothes so you'd have to walk back home, butt naked."

"Feisty, damn," he groans as he takes my shorts off leaving. "As much as I would love to taste you, I need to feel you around my cock."

"Please," I whine.

He smashes his lips on me again, this time with desperation as he settles in between my legs. I feel the tip at the enterance of my cunt. "Ready?"

I nod. He lines himself before slowly pushing in. "Oh, shit- you're fucking tight."

I close my eyes, feeling the delicious burn as fully bottoms himself inside. "Mm, Channie. You feel so goo-" I get cut off as he pulls back and slams his hips.

"Yeah, fuck, you cunt feels so good," he pants and grabs my left breast. "And I love these, fuck, perfect."

He sets a fast pace and doesn't stop snapping his hips. He pinches my nipple, causing the familiar knot to form in my lower belly. "Fuck, I feel you clenching. Are you close?"

I moan in response and his thrusts pick up speed. The only sounds resonating in the room was the snap of his hips. "I'm going to cum," I moan. He brings his hand down to my clit, rubbing it with his thumb. And that was all it took for me to go over the edge. "Channie!"

"Oh fuck, milk my cock, baby. Make a mess," he groans as his thrusts become brutal and I'm pretty sure my poor cervix is bruised. "I'm coming, fuck, I'm gonna fill your tight little pussy. You want that? You want me to fill you up and make you mine?"

"Yes, yes! Make me yours, Chan."

"Fuck," he voice becomes strained as veins protrude in his neck and he stills, emptying himself inside me, painting my inner walls.

As we catch our breath, I notice he hasn't pulled out. "What are you doing?" I ask, still out of breath.

He suddenly grabs my thighs as I feel him harden. "Oh my god."

He grins, licking his lips. "Up for round 2, mi amore?"

A/N: this was for @gracebang143 hope you enjoy :)

#bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids bang chan #chris bang #stray kids #bang chan fanfic #skz #bang chan smut #oneshot #fanfic #skz smut #skz fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz bang chan

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thatbanditqueen · 18 hours

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Louisiana Saturday Night, a new fic.....

I have been working on a new WIP set at the Louisiana Hayride from 1954 - 1956, and will probably post chapter one in the next few days. It starts in October 1954, when 19 year-old Elvis had never played outside the small clubs of Memphis, except for that once. At the Opry. And that didn't go too well.

Now he faces his biggest audience ever at the Lousiana Hay Ride: over three thousand people in-person (a thousand more than the Opry!) and millions over the radio. He has only recorded two singles, never been away from home much or gone beyond second base with a girl, and doesn't know much about life as a touring musician. But he's eager to learn and grab every opportunity he can with those long, inexperienced slender fingers.

This fic will have my usual blend of poorly executed dry humor, fluff, smut and angst.

please comment or reblog if you want to be tagged - here is a preview.

Here is a snippet from Chapter 1: Hot Wax

Approximately 9:15 p.m.

Saturday, October 16, 1954

The Municipal Auditorium in Shreveport, Louisiana

The first time she saw Elvis up close he was hunched over the sink tapping his fingers along the porcelain rim. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, he reminded Freddie of a bottle rocket about to blow. She smiled at the thought of him bursting through the ceiling like a comic book hero, his oversized sports coat trailing behind him like a long pink cape.

She wasn’t sure if he was recovering from his first set or talking himself into the second, but what she did know was that this kid was as green as they came. Horace had been reading Pappy the riot act yesterday when she walked by his office, yelling at him for booking “some hillbilly who just fell off the turnip truck, cuz Sam Philips brings you a bottle of Jack every time he comes through town.” The audience out there had been so taken aback by his country bop they’d forgotten to clap, and she doubted Pappy would be allowed to invite him back.

As she watched the show up in the control booth, Freddie had wondered if Elvis’ performance had gone over better with the radio listeners who hadn’t had to watch his stilted, awkward movements on stage. There was a ragged emotional tenor to his voice, and now that she was standing right in front of him she had to admit he had a dark, sultry allure that was strikingly different from all these other boys doing their best Gene Autry impression.

But geez, now the poor kid began to mutter into his reflection and she hoped he wouldn’t cry. Freddie barely knew how to deal with the girls she found balling in the bathroom.

“Um, hey there. You ok?”

Elvis jerked around and ran his hand through his sopping wet hair and straightened up, stiff like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Most folks are nervous their first time. That’s a big crowd.”

“Don’t you worry about me, honey, I ain’t nervous.” He looked her over, a sneer forming at his mouth. “Didn’t you heard the man? I’m the hottest thing on wax. Mr. Logan just asked me to play a second set.”

“Oh - uh - well, I guess I was wrong.”

“MMhmmm. Just getting geared up to go back on stage.” He settled his hands at his waist and shot her a sulky fierce glower, then waggled his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Oh, well that's good. Maybe you can answer something for me then.”

“Anything baby.”

He softened and bit his lip, giving her what she took to be his version of a come hither look. He looked like he was fighting back a sneeze and Freddie had to swallow her laughter.

“Why are you in the Ladies’ Powder Room?”

Elvis paused and looked down for a beat as he shook his head and laughed.

She nodded toward the shelf of perfume bottles, powders and the basket of dainty pink sanitary napkin boxes with Kotex printed along the sides.

He let out a low whistle and rubbed his mouth.

“Man o man, I guess you got me, might be jus a lil nervous. I ‘spose I really weren’t watching were I was going, huh?”

Freddie couldn’t help the way she dumbly smiled back, noticing up close how long and thick his eyelashes were as he looked down at her through them. She suddenly had the urge to take his hand and lead him to the green room where she could make him a hot cup of tea and comfort him and give him all the advice she had from her four years of working at KWKH. But instead she took a deep breath and fidgeted with her cardigan.

“I won't tell anyone you were in here. It can be our secret."

other fic taglist - i won't tag you again on this unless you comment you want to be tagged:

@whositmcwhatsit

@from-memphis-with-love

@vintageshanny

@shakerattlescroll

@peskybedtime

@be-my-ally

@ellie-24

@missmaywemeetagain

@powerofelvis

@arrolyn1114

@lookingforrainbows

@eliseinmemphis

@kingdomforapony

@everythingelvispresley

@richardslady121

@dkayfixates

@artlover8992

@freudianslumber

@amydarcimarie

@toreigh

@18lkpeters

@yynneessmons

@ashtag6887

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@returntopresley

@rjmartin11

@louisejoy86

@notstefaniepresley

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@j-v-9-2

@beeandheroddobsessions

@doll-elvis

@burningloverdoll

@ohjustpeachy1

@everythingelvispresley

@velvetelvis

@horror-movieshoes

@ooihcnoiwlerh

@moonchild-daniella

@lialocklear

@obsessionisthecure

@tacozebra051

@elvispresleywife

@bisexualwvtson

@father-of-2cats

@lillypink

@godlypresley

@crash-and-cure

@misspresley

@daffieapple

@louisejoy86

@burningloverdoll

@stargirllily19

@amydarcimarie

@elvisrealgf

@littlehoneyposts

@eapep

@stylespresleyhearted

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #ok not right away but there will be smut #the louisiana hayride #louisiana saturday night #1954 elvis #baby elvis #banditqueenwrites

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corinthianism · 2 days

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DON'T THEY KNOW? (IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD) || BENEDICT BRIDGERTON (1)

pairing: benedict bridgerton/fem!reader additional tags: zombie apocalypse au, graphic depictions of gore/violence, fluff, angst, biology stuff i just made up so it's probs super inaccurate lol, slow burn, friends to lovers summary: ravaged by a relentless virus, the world as you knew it falls into ruin. survivors are hardened by the blood on their hands and the horrors in their minds. amidst the end of everything, benedict proves that there is still hope, and perhaps something more, for the two of you. word count: 6.4k

author's note: welcome to the first part of my new zombie au series with our boy benedict! for those who don't know, this is based entirely on the fic "i'll be seeing you" by @eleanor-bradstreet! thanks again to them for letting me vomit up this fic based on their incredible one <333 anyway, this chapter is mostly exposition, so most of the benedict/you romance will really start in the succeeding parts. hopefully, you find this chapter interesting enough to stick around! (+for readers of my dean winchester series, don't worry! chapter 3 will come out soon!)

masterlist | series masterlist | ao3 | next chapter

CHAPTER ONE: HERE, IN THE END

The world had been so loud before.

The droning noise of traffic. Of the intermingling of a thousand phone calls, nestled in between cheeks and shoulders. Of people talking at each other, screaming over each other, fighting to get the final say in even the tiniest little thing. Everything blurred together into one great ocean of sound. You could drown in it, especially in the big cities.

You were right in the middle of it all: a drifter. It took a while but eventually, that ocean of sound became your home. You struggled to recall what it was like before that. That too, was blurry now along with everything else from Before. All you had now were fading fragments of a dream to be someone. Anyone.

That was how you met him, just before the beginning of the end. You still weren’t convinced that Benedict Bridgerton wasn’t some kind of romance novel character come to life; a talented artist from a long line of English nobility, and the first friend you ever made in New York. It was like something out of a crappy Hallmark movie. He laughed at your reaction upon learning that his brother was an actual viscount and that Benedict himself technically should be referred to as “the Honourable Benedict Bridgerton”, but despite all the grandeur that came with his heritage, Benedict was still… Benedict. In time, he became just Ben. He’d paint while you ranted about your borderline dangerous work hours or how your parents were bugging you to settle down. In turn, he shared with you his frustrations as an artist trying to make it in the world, without his family name, and how at the same time he missed his mother’s cooking. Conversations with him were always lovely, like breathing in the air in the middle of a field of flowers after a decade of being locked inside a dark, stuffy room. He was just like you. Just trying to be someone.

But those conversations all seemed so far away now. If you had known then what would become of your life, of those dreams to be someone, maybe you would’ve just let yourself drown in that ocean of sound.

It only took two weeks for the world to fall into ruin. Only fourteen days for everything to go up in flames.

The virus was ruthless. The most efficient killer the likes of which no one had ever seen. A terrifying force of nature seemingly tailored for the extinction of humanity. You were right in the middle of it all. You saw it with your own eyes, a cluster of people beginning to form in Times Square. With New York being New York, you thought nothing of it. You walked away none the wiser.

Until you heard someone scream, a gut-wrenching, visceral scream, followed by a sound you would never forget. A sound you’d have to hear over and over again for the better part of the next ten years, though you didn’t know it yet at the time: teeth ripping flesh from bone and the primal snarls accompanying it that couldn’t have been anything except inhuman. Monstrous, even. It sent ripples into the great big ocean you called home, altering it so permanently just seconds before you even realized what was happening.

Sound, quickly followed by sight.

The people huddled on the outer edges of the crowd ran off in terror, revealing the gruesome remains of what used to be a person. Even that was something you barely registered at first, eyes too focused on the bloody mouths feasting on it and white, foggy eyes. One of those things stopped its chewing, head snapping up suddenly. It sniffed the air for a while, as if sensing your fear even from twenty feet away. Those white eyes were looking at you now. Staring you down. Seconds later, the corpse being eaten started writhing back to life, or a perverted version of it. Its jaw was skewed, perpetually stuck wide open as drool and blood ran down its chin. You weren’t someone then. If your body hadn’t gone into autopilot, legs taking you as far away as they could, you would’ve been one of them. That was the very first day of what would be the longest two weeks of your life. You remembered it well.

There was no time to think or breathe. Even when your chest hurt from overexerting yourself and your lungs screamed for a break, you ran. You ran as fast as you could, crashing into people, some of which were still unaware of the horrors spreading just a block away from them. In the corner of your eyes, you knew that there were others like you, scrambling to go home, to go anywhere but here. Cars stopped in the middle of the road, curiosity killing the cat as drivers left their vehicles to see what was going on, only to be met with the same sight you were: death. In only a few minutes, nearly a third of the people on the streets were running, too.

A little girl cried in her father’s arms, a teddy bear left behind and forgotten on the cement road as they also tried to get away. The realization dawning on the faces of onlookers that they should be doing the same.

You reached your apartment building, not really knowing what you would do next, just that you needed to get away. The hallways were empty. A part of you hoped Ben was far, far away from here. A more selfish part of you hoped otherwise.

Supplies. You needed supplies. Food, clothes, water. Emergency kit, tools, weapons. Weapons. You had no fucking idea what to do with any of this! Just yesterday, you held a steady, if not miserable, office job. Today, you had to survive against whatever-the-hell those things were and perhaps even other people. The weight of that sudden realization twisted your guts in a sickening way, enough to make you almost throw up.

Peeking through your blinds, there were already three or four ambulances rushing to the direction of Times Square.Those things were not here yet and still, you naively hoped that help would come and dispatch of them before it got out of control.

You barely noticed the sweat that began to trickle down your forehead and back, hairs raising out of instinct. Your whole body was going into overdrive, hyper-aware of the fact that you were in danger.

The rapid knocking on your door nearly frightened you to death, until you heard Ben’s desperate calls of your name. Out of breath and scared… much like you. You wondered if he had seen it, too. When you confirmed through the peephole that it was, in fact, him, you dragged him inside your apartment. Your hands were on his face as soon as he was inside, needing to know that he was here, he was with you, he was alive. It seemed he had the same need, icy blue eyes taking you in with such an intensity you’d only ever seen when he was painting. It was easy to feel small under his gaze.

“Are you alright?” he breathed heavily, larger hands covering your own.

You could only nod, the words stuck in your throat, “Did you- did you see-”

“I saw them,” he said, his composure faltering for a split second. “I saw them.”

You could hear more sirens outside, one after another, disrupting the ocean you had grown so familiar with. Louder and louder.

“We need to leave, get out of New York,” he ran a hand through his hair, eyes moving wildly as he tried to come up with a plan. It was the Bridgerton in him: the bravery of his father, the gentleness of his mother. It didn’t need to be said out loud that the moment he saw those things, all he could think of was you. Getting to you and getting you safe. His only true friend in this city. It took all of fifteen minutes before you were out the door, nearly overwhelmed by the swarm of people all running away from Times Square. Ben held your hand tightly, and you did your best not to look behind you.

The sun was beginning to set, wrapping the city in a bright orange light. It felt ominous somehow, so unlike every other time you’d seen it. Like this was some form of judgment. As if at any moment, you’d hear the seven trumpets telling you that this was the end. You learned later on that you weren’t the only one that thought that. Bile threatened to rise in your throat when the shadows of night grew with each passing second. It felt like it was going to swallow you alive.

The road was packed full of people, crying and yelling and praying for salvation. Ants begging to get away from the magnifying glass only to be burned anyway.

The screams grew louder and against your better judgment, you looked back. You were too far away to see everything clearly, and because Ben was constantly pulling you forward, but you could make out the smaller swarm of walking corpses slowly coming into view. The poor souls who weren’t able to keep up with the main crowd were dragged away to be bitten, spreading the godforsaken disease. More and more bodies littered the streets, staining the concrete with the blood of dozens. Then, not even a minute later, they would rise with jaws gnashing and wide white eyes, their humanity lost forever.

Your legs felt so heavy, as did the rest of you. If it weren’t for Ben’s ferocious determination to get out of the city and to keep the both of you safe, you wouldn’t have survived that first day at all. Helicopters flew above and across the city, the whooshing of its blades mingling with the screams. The ocean of sound was threatening to drown you. You didn’t look up anymore. It would’ve shattered you if you had, because you knew there weren’t nearly enough choppers to save everyone in the city. It was impossible. Your heart broke for all the people, all the someones, who were dead long before they could even fight for the chance to live.

The sky was dark now.

By some miracle, you reached the army’s barricade. Soldiers ushered people to safety, including you and Ben. You squeezed his hand, causing him to look at you for a moment. A temporary reprieve from that day’s horrors. His fair skin was shiny with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead like black tendrils. It was like everything slowed down, but maybe it was all just in your head. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell. The moment was cut short when you heard an explosion from behind you. Your head snapped to the direction of the noise, so did Ben’s, and the “small swarm” of the undead from before had multiplied to thrice its size in the short few minutes you spent running away.

Gunfire rang in your ears once the monsters got a little too close for the army’s liking, but the crowds of the living and the undead had already begun to mix by that point. Bullets meant to pierce rotting flesh ended up killing people who were very much alive and uninfected. You could only watch, from behind the barricade of soldiers, the people in the perpetually moving crowd who would stop once they realized their loved ones were no longer beside them. You could only watch when the body of a child (belonging to the same little girl you saw earlier that day, you realized grimly) was forcefully torn from the arms of her father when a soldier spotted the bite mark on her leg, bleeding and angry. Her plump, tear-stained cheeks that were once symbols of her youth and innocence were ruined by a sickly green that rose to the surface, emphasizing violet veins that always looked like it was crawling, spreading just underneath the skin. Then, she was one of them. Writhing, bones cracking. There was no recognition in her cloudy eyes when her father begged for his baby girl to come back to him.

Ben held you tighter, his hand cradling your head as the other soldiers evacuated as many people as they could.

“We need to go,” he pleaded, still firmly holding on to you as you were both pushed around by the crowd. “Please, love, just look at me.”

So you did. Those eyes, brilliant and blue and full of worry, were the only things that pulled you back down to Earth. Tears were shed and prayers were whispered on the chopper that whisked you away from New York. A couple hundred feet into the air, you could see the city crumble. You remembered briefly wondering how many bodies were left behind or how many turned into one of those things.

Everything changed in those first fourteen days of the Outbreak. Eighty percent of the world’s population had been wiped out, unprepared to face a force so vicious. That was how effective the virus was, which was later dubbed the “Gaia Virus”. Mother Nature’s wrath.

The survivors in the States were brought to “safe zones” all over the country, areas barren and isolated enough that the Infected, which mostly stayed in the previously overpopulated cities and towns, were unlikely to get to them. The first few months after the Outbreak were spent being transferred to different safe zones, never staying for more than a week at a time.

At first, the safe zones were supposed to be a temporary refuge for survivors. The government, or what was left of it, promised to reclaim the cities within a year and make them habitable again. Then a year passed, and they said it would take them another year. So another year passed and they said the same thing. Over and over until… radio silence. No one brought it up again. The few who did were not treated kindly by the rest of the survivors.

Most people caught onto the memo fairly quickly, with soldiers and generals making up the new leadership hierarchy of the safe zones in place of politicians and peacemakers: you keep your head down, you do as you’re told, and you’ll get food and water and blankets.

The people brave (or stupid) enough to make a scene were never heard from again by the next week.

So there you were, moving across the country, going from state to state and living off of food rations and hope. Both were two resources that were steadily depleting. Benedict was there with you through it all, your steadfast companion. Conversations about surrealism and horrible bosses turned into questions about whether or not your friends and families were safe, if they had made it to the safe zones. That was the first time you saw him cry, not able to withstand the possibility that his beloved mother and siblings were gone, perhaps now part of the Infected. Even if they survived, he knew there was a slim chance he would ever see them again. He cursed himself sometimes, him and his foolish need to be someone. If he had stayed in Kent, if he just settled down like his brothers, perhaps he would still be with them today. But his mother was the kindest woman he had ever known and he knew deep down that she forgave him long before he realized what he’d done. He knew they all did.

Grief was your (and Ben’s) constant state of being. It weighed you down on most days, making your feet dig deeper into the dirt when you walked. On some days, it was all-consuming. It was the only reason most survivors rarely caused any trouble. As horrible as humans could be to each other, this shared grief that echoed through the hearts of everyone was translated into little acts of kindness that, at the best of times, were life-saving. To be given a drop of water by a woman dying of thirst. To be offered a piece of bread by a man whose stomach rumbled louder than his voice. More often than not, it was always the eldest survivors that did this. Perhaps it was because they knew that they had already lived long, fulfilling lives. Perhaps it was because they knew Death was already at their door, so they might as well help someone else live.

Of course, there would always be people looking out for themselves, you and Ben had expected that from the get go, but it still surprised you how much compassion a person could still have at the end of the world. It didn’t happen too often though, but the times that it did were memories you held close to your heart.

The days went by, often cruel and unforgiving to those who couldn’t adjust to the new reality, but Ben still found ways to make you smile.

“It’s the artist in me,” he said to you one night, three years after the Outbreak, when you had asked him how he could bear to still be so… him. There was a secluded spot you two often escaped to whenever there was a need for it, a small cliff at the edge of the safe zone. You were both slightly tipsy from whiskey you traded some radio parts for. “The whole world’s gone to shit and I can’t help but still find it somewhat beautiful. It’s like a movie, isn’t it? Two friends at the end of the world— and besides, what else are we supposed to do? Wallow in self-pity? I think you and I do enough of that.”

The sun was beginning to set, something you had grown to dislike since that first day. You decided to lie down for a moment, uncaring if bits of soil got in your hair. You closed your eyes, trying to just be. You didn’t always get the opportunity to do that anymore.

“Look,” he nudged your side after a while, his accent slurring a little as he pointed at something. You raised a brow at him, now-open eyes following what his finger was pointing at. The sky. It was pitch black, but a splash of stars covered the heavens like a mural. You had never seen that many stars before, certainly not in the cities you’d lived in your whole life. Ben sighed and your attention was back on him. “You couldn’t see them as clearly back home, but I used to stargaze often with my siblings.”

“That sounds lovely,” you whispered.

“It was.”

The two of you were silent for a while, just sitting on that patch of dirt, overlooking the vast lands that spread as far as the eye can see. That was how isolated these safe zones were. The gentle night breeze tickled your skin.

“I haven’t really looked at the sky properly since the Outbreak,” you confessed, slumping in your seat. “I think it makes me feel small. And sad. Look at us. Our tiny little planet, how fucked up everything is. Look at us. And there’s a whole universe out there that’s completely indifferent to everything that goes on down here.”

“It’s humbling,” he hummed in understanding. “To be a speck in a great big universe yet feeling a whole universe worth of emotion.”

“That’s good,” you chuckled. “Very poetic.”

He grinned at you, cheeks flushed slightly, “I try.”

Another bout of silence.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“Whatever for, love?” he raised a brow in curiosity, his tone soft. It always was.

“For being here,” you took a deep breath. “For sticking around.”

His smile shone brighter when he heard this, his hand finding its way around yours. “You’d be mad to think I’d ever leave you here. If anything, you’re stuck with me. I’m just—” he cleared his throat. “I’m just sorry that… that it has to be like this. Drifting, never staying too long in one place to be able to call it a home. You deserve more. You deserve better.”

“You say that like it’s your fault,” your hand squeezed his in hopes of bringing him some comfort. “I’m not gonna lie and say we’re doing alright because we honestly look like shit”—that earned you a hearty chuckle from him—”but we’re doing better than most. And that’s because we’ve had each other all this time. That’s one of the things I was thanking you for. None of this on you, Ben. You deserve more, too. You hear me?”

He straightened his back and flashed you a soft smile, “I hear you.”

The two of you looked back up at the sky, admiring the twinkling of millions of stars. You were somewhere in Arizona, according to the other survivors. Soldiers kept the exact location under lock and key to dissuade survivors from sharing it with others who were still out in the open world. There just wasn’t enough room. But you had a feeling that it had more to do with the risk of attracting Infected. Limited armada and manpower meant the military was just unable to handle that kind of scenario.

You learned more about the Infected over time, having worked odd jobs for the military for more food, water, or supplies. Even something as simple as filtration duty on Tuesdays earned you tidbits of information.

From what you could piece together in the past couple of years, the Gaia Virus most likely came from melting glaciers and ice caps, triggered by global warming. It polluted bodies of water across the world, eventually making its way into reservoirs undetected. It was the perfect way to spread. Nobody can last more than three days without water, so the virus made sure no one would last at all. Once fully turned, Infected were nearly perfect killers. Soldiers sometimes told stories of their encounters with them. They were completely blind, though that much was obvious from the milkiness of their eyes. Infected also didn’t react to any physical damage done to them. Whether or not they felt it was a different story. With possibly two of their senses out of the picture, the rest were heightened. They could hear and smell better than people. If prey were close enough, all those things had to do was follow the scent trail. The fact that these monsters could perceive things humans could barely register was a terrifying thought.

Bodies of Infected retrieved from the destroyed cities were studied, Ben himself had seen this on one such odd job. The virus kills its host before taking over the body, this much was known. However, the brain was shown to endure, preventing the more advanced stages of decomposition. It raised questions about whether or not hosts really died, or if a tiny part of them still lived on even as they transformed into flesh-eating beasts. You’ve heard whispers that it was more like the brain sent constant streams of adrenaline even after death, keeping the body going long after it was supposed to fall apart and rot. True or not, it was the only explanation you had.

You’d seen your fair share of people who’ve fallen victim to a bite; doomed to have their life snuffed out as soon as that was discovered, whether that was by execution or dying to the virus.

The time it took to die after being bitten was different for everyone. Some died within minutes, others within hours. The longest one you’d seen was a soldier brought back to the Detroit safe zone after a patrol gone wrong. A stray Infected had sensed him and attacked him during the night, leaving a massive bite on his shoulder. He fought so fiercely against the symptoms of the fever, hovering between life and death for nearly an entire day before finally succumbing to the virus. You couldn’t forget how pale he was when he was wheeled into the makeshift camp on a gurney, watching the life be drained out of him in real time. He was shot in the head by his comrades as soon as he turned. The event shook everyone. The disappearances began shortly after that.

The people who spoke up against the military drew the ire of everyone: the military didn’t tolerate people who questioned their authority and everyone else just wanted to mind their own business. When these undesirables began to disappear, everyone chalked it up to them just being hard-headed. The popular theory was they got sick of the military’s iron grip and decided to leave the safe zone, and then probably died. Nobody took it too seriously. Nobody could have done anything about it anyway. Everyone was just focused on staying alive.

Cooper was another survivor in the Arizona safe zone. You and Ben had been there for a month, and he was the first and only person to welcome you with open arms. He was a lanky man, and had blond hair and kind, brown eyes. Only a few years younger than you. He was the jovial type, often inviting you and Ben to tag along with him on whatever job he found earlier that day. His Boston accent was unmistakable, often getting stronger when offered liquor.

He was also in strong opposition to the militant lifestyle in the safe zones, though he knew better than to broadcast his distaste. Cooper joined you and Ben on the night the two of you were stargazing, eyes wide in terror. You had never seen him like that before. He was always one to stay optimistic, which was a wonder considering the state of the world. Cooper looked like he ran to get to you, his damp tattered shirt sticking to his body.

He grabbed you by your shoulders, fingertips digging into your skin deep enough to make you wince all while a jumble of words were frantically spewing out of his mouth. Ben immediately got up, nearly growling at Cooper for hurting you, “Get your hands off them.”

It seemed as though Ben’s warning briefly snapped Cooper back to reality, because the man did pull away but his hands still trembled violently.

“What’s wrong?” you furrowed your brows in worry, unused to seeing Cooper in such a state.

“You need to get out of here,” it felt like there was something darker lingering behind his words. He looked at Ben. “You need to go.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Ben cut him off, his protectiveness from before calming down when he finally noticed the genuine panic and fear in Cooper’s eyes. “Tell us what’s happening.”

The poor man looked like he was ready to explode right then and there. He was practically soaked in his own sweat, both from the exhaustion of running to get to you and Ben, and the shock of the news he brought, it seemed.

“They were taking them,” he choked back tears, his feet stuck to the ground. His nostrils were flaring from how hard he was breathing.

“Who, Coop? Who’s taking who?” this time it was your hands on his shoulders, though your touch was gentle, trying to keep him grounded.

“The soldiers,” he whispered, his voice grim. “We- we thought they were executing them for questioning the army but I saw them! I saw them. In the big tent. They’re trying… they’re trying to make a vaccine.”

The severity of his tone reminded you all too much of Ben at your doorstep on that very first day of the Outbreak.

Ben’s surprise was palpable, “What?”

“A vaccine,” Cooper stressed, each breath he drew was ragged (you could hear it from how close he was standing to you), “but it’s not working. I saw the bodies. Whatever they’re doing, it’s torture— you should’ve seen them. They infected them on purpose.”

Your blood went cold, like liquid nitrogen shocking your system. That’s what the army had been doing all this time? It made perfect sense, but the new information flooded your brain with images of those people who went missing, strapped to a table, and being injected with the virus. If they were trying to make a vaccine, they—the test subjects—would have to have been kept alive for as long as possible, conscious of the parasite invading their body. It made your stomach churn, forcing you to step back and look away. Ben was similarly devastated, jaw clenched as he stared at Cooper. He zeroed in on a different piece of information.

There were Infected in the safe zone.

“That’s… they can’t just keep taking people,” he gritted his teeth. Cooper stayed silent. Ben spoke again, firmer and more desperate this time, “...can they?”

“Nobody’s gonna come looking for you even if they did,” Cooper said, defeated. Still breathing hard. “We’re too far away. And if the rest of the safe zones aren’t already in the same situation then they aren’t gonna waste gas to go all the way here. The soldiers here can just make up something and no one would know.”

An “oh, God” left your lips, your hands shaking, mirroring Cooper’s. From where you stood, you could see the main camp and the largest tent, the main military tent, in the middle of it. You’ve walked past it, stared at it a hundred times, and never knew what was going on inside. You found yourself asking if there was a time when you stared at that tent, and just on the other side was someone just like you being experimented on with the deadliest virus known to mankind.Your eyes stung with tears when your treacherous mind thought of Ben in that position, bruised by different needles and tubes protruding from him.

“Please, you need to go,” Cooper pleaded with the two of you desperately, his head hanging low.

“Shit,” Ben cursed under his breath, rubbing his eyes with one hand in frustration. “All of our supplies are back in the main camp.”

“You can’t go back!”

“We’ll die out there if we don’t get those supplies,” you pointed out to the blond. “We wouldn’t last a week.”

Ben had already begun to walk back to camp, masking his anxieties to the best of his abilities if what Cooper was saying was true. You weren’t that far behind, ears ringing with Cooper’s pleas not to go back. He didn’t chase after you anymore, falling silent once he realized there was nothing he could do to change your mind. It was only a short trek from the cliff back to the main camp. The outer perimeter of the safe zone was always being patrolled by soldiers which meant, without any weapons, you would’ve been dead if you tried to escape right away. A checkpoint came into view along with the two guards, Paul and Walter, holding rifles on either side of the path. You were familiar with each other from how often you passed through this checkpoint to get to the cliff.

“Paul, Walter,” Ben smiled coolly at the guards once you were finally standing in front of them. “Late shift? I thought you’d have switched with Reese by now.”

“Higher-ups needed more men in other places, so here we are,” Paul sighed, before turning his attention to you. “You guys back at the cliff again?”

“Yeah,” you mimicked Ben, feigning a smile of your own. You still weren’t completely sure if Cooper had been telling the truth, but interacting with Paul felt different now that you knew what could’ve been happening behind closed doors. “Camp can be a little too much sometimes, y’know? No offense. Just… needed to get away for a while.”

Paul nodded in understanding.

“Okay, you know the routine,” Walter shrugged, handing you and Ben a bloodchecker each. It was a small vial full of a blue solution, connected to a thin, replaceable tube ending with a needle. The solution would turn clear if mixed with Gaia-infected blood, and a dark muddy brown if the blood was clean. You pierced your arm with the needle, watching your blood travel through the tube and drip down into the solution, turning it brown as you had expected. Glancing over at Ben’s bloodchecker, you found that his was the same. Thankfully.

You were about to pass through the checkpoint when Walter pulled Ben aside, muttering something you couldn’t quite make out, but you saw Ben’s reaction. To anyone else, it would have seemed like he didn’t react at all. Most people only would’ve noticed his polite smile and hushed ‘thank you” to the guard before returning to your side, but you saw through it: the slightest twitch of his hand and the way his lips tightened at what Walter told him. It was so clear to you that he was bothered by it, whatever it was.

“What was that?” you asked him, trying to keep up with his fast-paced stride.

He only spared you a single glance, only a single moment of softness, but now you were inside the central safe zone. Soldiers were standing guard in every direction. There seemed to be more of them than usual. Ben continued forward to the direction of your tent which was a bit farther from everyone else’s. He kept his voice low, “Not here.”

Your shared tent with Ben was bare. The apocalypse didn’t exactly grant you a life of luxury, but that tent was yours. It stayed the same after every new safe zone you were transferred to. Next to the two worn down single mattresses were your backpacks, one of the only things you still had from before the Outbreak besides each other. While you double-checked your supplies, making sure nothing was missing while you were gone, Ben slid one of the mattresses to the side, which was sitting on top of an old rug. He pulled that aside too, his hands digging into the soil, digging and digging until finally, you could see the lid of a crate you had buried.

The crate was filled with jugs of water. Clean, pure, uninfected water. The result of three years of patiently collecting rainwater and saving up whatever the army gave you, carefully filtering each drop throughout the night when you knew no one else would be bothering you. This water was precious. It was gold. And it was a pain to move from safe zone to safe zone. You and Ben had had to resort to bribing and lying for the past three years to make sure it was safe.

Once you were done checking over the supplies, you knelt by Ben’s side. “So… are you gonna tell me what Walter said to you or are you gonna keep being mysterious?” you tried to keep your tone light.

“They were looking for Cooper,” his gaze didn’t leave the jugs of water. His hands, once always covered in paint, were now caked in dirt. “Said we should report him if we did.”

“What?” you questioned. “That doesn’t make any sense, everyone has to go in and out of that checkpoint to get to the cliff. There’s no way Paul and Walter didn’t see him.”

“So how could he have seen all of those supposed experiments in the main tent?” he turned to face you, his expression severe. “That tent is the most heavily guarded thing in this camp. If what he said is true, then there was no way he could’ve left and not be spotted and then somehow manage to get to us without going through the checkpoint.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, racking your brains for any sort of information that could help you get closer to solving this mystery. It was entirely plausible that Cooper had been lying about the experimentations and the vaccines but despite having only known him for a short while, you knew he wasn’t the type to do something like that. He wouldn’t lie about something like that. Hell, he was the kind of person that worked overtime during the apocalypse. He was an honest man.

Then you remembered something.

“It’s Tuesday today.”

Ben looked at you, puzzled, “Yes, it is… What’s going through your head, love?”

“Filtration duty,” you answered. “They filter out the water in the main tent…”

“...then dump the waste outside of camp,” Ben finished for you, eyes widening. “You think Cooper was in the main tent on purpose?”

“I mean, that’s the only explanation, right? Nothing else has left camp since last week and nobody checks a truck carrying waste. Maybe Cooper was on one of those trucks,” you said before looking back at Ben. “I… I thought I was just seeing things. Did you notice how he was earlier?”

“Out of breath from running…?” Ben frowned, not quite following your train of thought as easily as he usually did.

“He wasn’t just out of breath. He was smelling me.”

You could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he put the pieces together. He couldn’t quite believe the conclusion he arrived at, that much you could tell, but the disbelief washed away when no other possible explanation presented itself to him.

“How?” his voice was shaky, a quiet sort of devastation clouding his features. Cooper was likely already infected earlier, though you couldn’t tell which stage of infection he was at. The signs pointed to a peculiar middleground between the fever that occurred right before death, and the grotesque reanimation once the virus had complete control over the body.

“Maybe he was telling the truth. Part of it, at least.”

You both looked back at the jugs of water, taking out a few of the smaller containers before hurriedly placing the lid back on the crate. With the crate concealed by the soil and rug, you and Ben made quick work of gathering your things, hiding the small jugs of water underneath clothes, foods, and whatever else were in your bags.

You always made sure to have a plan in case you ever needed to leave a safe zone. The water you collected was too valuable; you had to be able to move it whenever and wherever you needed, but with all the soldiers standing guard outside, you knew this would be impossible even with all of your planning. You just had to bring what you could.

Without uttering a word, you and Ben both knew this was the last night you were ever going to spend in this place.

series taglist: comment down below if you'd like to be added!

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #reader insert #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton au #luke thompson

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written-in-flowers · 4 hours

Text

His Mistress: Demon!Jongho x Fem!Reader

Pairing: demon!Jongho x Fem!reader

Genre: smut, some angst/fluff

Word Count: 11k

Summary: YN takes to her new status as "Lady" very well. Yet, even as she edges closer to her former self, YN cannot help feeling the loneliness of the big keep. Only her servant, Jongho, could reassure her that even if she's in Hell, she isn't alone.

Tags: sub!jongho, switch!reader, mistress/servant synamic, 69-positions, bondage, restraints, monster fucking, demon fucking, light bdsm, rough oral, oral sex, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, thigh fucking, pet names, nipple play, dirty talk, tiny bit of squirting, exhibitionism(?), reader's first time as a femdom, emotional hurt/comfort, reader gets angsty at one point, childhood guilt, childhood trauma, mentions of abuse,

Previously on Pretty Pet > Next

***

“You remind me of a bear sometimes.”

On the ledge of your bathroom window, you watched Jongho prepare your morning bath. He wore his usual butler uniform with its tailored lines and shiny buttons. You couldn’t help seeing it while you looked at him. His square shoulders, his round cheeks and height gave him the presence of one. The fact he smelled like pinewood in fresh air strengthened the image.

“A bear?” he scoffed in a laugh. “What makes you say that?”

“Your size,” you thought out loud. “Your body and what’s in your pants.”

Even with his back turned to you, you knew he’d blushed. No matter how many times he’d seen you nude, been close enough and alone long enough, Jongho kept his distance. The moment in the bathroom was as far as he’d gone with you. Not that it bothered you. It felt nice knowing not everyone in the house desired you that way.

“Bears are meant to be scary,” he said, testing the water with his hand before deciding the temperature suitable. He looked over at you, brown hair hanging in his eyes, “Are you saying I’m scary?”

“To the wrong people, I’m sure you are.”

You walked to the tub, removing your thin chemise in the meantime, and stepped into the bubbly bathwater. Jongho appeared more than shocked when he woke up to the state of you and your bed. The peonies and vines you’d grown last night covered most of the bed; the moss parts acted like a blanket that trapped your body heat inside. The fact you'd gone to bed muddy bothered everyone but you. The dirt on your body felt more like a second skin than grime. You thought about staying that way until Jongho insisted you clean up.

Everything that happened yesterday came back in a blurry haze, staying in emotions and sensations than mental pictures. You thought you might have dreamed it all. You expected to wake up to Hongjoong’s kisses on your skin again, about to spend the day with San next. Your experience in the greenhouse felt akin to a religious experience. In the dirt and plants, an epiphany came. You aren't a slave. You are a goddess. A goddess of the trees. You'd dreaded waking up that morning in case it didn't really happen. However, you only woke to a stunned Jongho.

“I meant it in a kind way,” you inhaled the steaming scents coming from the water, “It’s comforting.” The water felt better than before. With it located near the windows, the sunlight energized you.

“How so?” Jongho took a gentle bath poof, and began washing you. He’d used the orange blossom oil this time. You soaked your lungs in the aroma, letting it wash over you along with the cloth.

“Sometimes…” you paused, unsure whether to be honest. “Sometimes, I feel alone here.”

“Alone? Psh, hardly, YN. You’re always around us and The Masters.”

“But even then, it can be lonely at times,” you said. “People around here usually talk to me just to end up sleeping with me. I’m not complaining, because it’s great, but…”

“It sucks when that’s all that happens?”

“Yeah,” you admitted in a groan. Lifting your other arm from the water, Jongho ran the wet cloth over your skin. “I wish they knew I was more than my body. They all talk as if we’re deeply in love, but they hardly know anything about me. They only know the bad things I’ve done, not anything else. If it wasn’t sexually related, they didn’t ask about it. Seonghwa might dig a bit deeper but that’s because he’s used to peeling back people’s layers.”

“Well,” Jongho let you sit up to wash your back, “That can change now. You’re not a slave anymore. You’re a Lady of Eden, and that’s not an empty title.”

“It’s not?”

“Psh, not at all. Lilith is a pretty important figure in Inferno,” he went from back to front, “She’s Prince Asmodeus’s sister, so naturally she is a princess. You’re one of her granddaughters, so you get the title of ‘Lady’.”

“Wow,” you soaked in the information, a giggle in your throat, “I’m a lady.”

“A beautiful one at that,” he said.

“Aw, Jongho,” you cooed, pinching his cheek.

He laughed softly. “You don’t have to go to breakfast, if you don’t want to. You can do whatever you want without their permission. You could even go outside the keep if you wished. You aren’t a slave anymore, Mistress. You’re a lady, and you will be treated like one.”

You rested your arm on the edge, head on top of it, and you grinned at him. “That means I can do whatever I want, right?”

“Absolutely. You don’t even have to go through with the schedules they’ve given you.”

“What a relief that’d be!” you blurted out to his laughter. “San has me do ‘housewife’ duties but not actually do them at the same time? It makes no sense. Cook also hates it when I go into the kitchen, but I have to on San’s days.”

“Don’t take that too personally,” he said. “Cook doesn’t like having anyone in the kitchen. He doesn’t even like the other cooks being there.”

“Hongjoong and Seonghwa don’t make it easy either,” you continued. “Seonghwa always wants to talk about things that happened in the past. His schedule feels like school, and Yeosang can be the worst.” Even with the last lesson going better than anticipated, you hated it nevertheless. “I can’t play music I like. I can’t read books I like. It only has to be the boring, classical stuff that nobody understands or cares about. Hongjoong just wants to fuck all the time. Literally, everything with him is sexual to one degree or another. I don’t normally complain about it, since it’s mind blowing, but it’d be nice if…if we just sat and talked. Itd be nice to know them and for them to really know me. It's stupid that it takes me being their equal to earn that, but it's a start.”

“It certainly is. The Masters have always respected you, Mistress. They only had good intentions with you.”

“I'm sure that was true but it never felt that way. Jongho,” you addressed him, “I spent my entire life living under someone else. I had to go by their rules and their standards. I only got power after I took it from them. For once, I felt important. I felt good. The only rules I lived by were my own. Then I came here, and became that nobody again. I ended up in this pretty cage to dance and bend over whenever they wanted. It's…”

“Restraining? Suffocating? Exhausting?”

“Yes,” you sighed, sinking back into the water. “I was somebody, Jongho.”

“I’ve heard,” he said, rubbing the loofa over your feet and toes. “A big hotshot businesswoman who conned people out of their money.”

“I wanted to be something more. I didn’t want to grow up to be my mother: getting pregnant right after college, working a minimum wage job and putting up with an abusive husband.” It turns out, you’d been completely wrong about that. “I wanted more from life. I saw she was a little nobody, and decided I’d be the opposite. I became friends with the popular kids at school; I dated the hottest boys, wore trendy clothes, and everyone knew me. When I graduated, I became a mail worker at a big corporate place. I managed to get a desk job after I paid a friend to falsify documents and degrees for me to use in resumes.”

“Then, you went on to become a stock broker.”

“In the worst way,” you said. Your previous life came back to you in the warm water and Jongho’s gentle touches. “I once got a girl fired so I could take her manager position. I made it look like she’d been stealing important documents from the big boss’s desk. He was paranoid that the competition was ‘stealing secrets’ from us. All I did was make it seem like she worked for them, and he fired her on the spot. I got the promotion, and earned more money.”

“What happened to her?”

“Have no idea,” you shrugged. A pang of guilt hit you thinking about it. “I assume she got a job elsewhere. It wasn’t like she couldn’t get one.”

“It was still a dirty move to pull.”

“But I pulled it.”

“So, the big boss just believed you? He didn’t investigate himself?”

“Yup,” you shut your eyes, enjoying his caresses on your body. “He said I was the only person he could trust.”

“Huh, that’s interesting.”

“Why?”

“You’d think somebody who is paranoid of everyone wouldn't blindly trust an office assistant.”

“I spent a lot of time around him. It's easy to manipulate people when you know what moves them. His happened to be his big ego and attention.”

Henry should have known better, in your opinion. Eventually, you ended up leaving the company after his wife found out about you both. It surprisingly worked in your favor since a friend of Henry’s took you on as his office manager. You don't feel good about it now, but at that moment it brought you on top of the world. The men who sought to control and own you became your puppets. They danced to your tune, all with the hope of gaining your love and affection. Some genuinely wanted a relationship, but you never went for them. You’s wanted to live without attachment back then, but as you thought to yourself, perhaps that wasn't so true anymore.

Jongho sunk his hand down to your thighs, which made you jump at first contact. He didn’t do it with the sexual caresses of your masters or Yeosang. Jongho remained precise and professional.

“You don’t like it?” you asked him, seeing his flustered cheeks.

“Like what?”

“Touching me there.”

“Oh, that…Um, I mean…Of course…”

“It’s okay if you don’t,” you said. “I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

“No, no, you are,” he stammered. “You are my cup of tea, for sure.”

You giggled. “That’s hard to believe when everyone’s gotten a sip but you.”

“I had my sip,” he said. “I sipped it right here.”

“You only watched.”

“So did Yunho.”

“Yes, but he’s hardly around me. You’ve had plenty of opportunities and haven’t given in.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No, just curious.”

“I suppose because I can control myself when the others can’t,” he shrugged. “You were the Master’s pet, not mine.”

You leaned against the edge of the tub, bringing yourself within inches of him. “But I’m not anymore,” you said, moving closer to him. “I’m sure I can take up as many pleasure slaves as I wish. Would you if I put a collar on you?”

He laughed shyly, “Is that even a question? Naturally.”

“At least you can control yourself,” you noted. “If any of the others were here, they’d bury their faces in my pussy.”

“I understand I have a job to do,” he said. “Things like that can be saved for another time.”

“You mean when there’s no schedule or hurry to get somewhere?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “If I want to do anything with you, I’d wait until there’s plenty of time. I don’t want to rush through it.”

You grinned, rolling on your side to face him. “You want to enjoy me the right way.”

“Yes. You deserve that.”

“I do?”

“You’re always being fucked in a hurry,” he said. “The other servants do it in between schedules or when the masters are already going at you. I like to go at my own pace.”

“How sweet,” you said. “It’s nice to know for future reference.”

He finished cleaning you up, and you stood from the water. Despite what he’d said, you saw the way Jongho’s eyes lingered on your naked body. You never got over their lust for you. You’d lived in the keep for three months, and you still caught them looking at you. You swore they watched you through the mysterious peepholes around the place. It boosted your mood whenever you managed to arouse one of them, even if momentarily. With your new status, you knew you could manipulate that. The charms you’d worked on weaker men seemed to work on full-blooded demons as well.

You couldn’t wait to see how well it works.

Leaving the bathroom, Jongho took you to the dressing room. Wooyoung already picked out the ‘San’ outfit of the day: a light green dress with its cinched waistline, frilly full skirt, and closely snug bodice. The pretty, elegant housewife that San adored. It disgusted you. Turning to Wooyoung, you put your hands on your hips and said:

“Yeah, I’m not wearing that.”

“What?” Wooyoung looked at you in disbelief. He turned to Jongho, “She’s kidding, right?”

“I’m the one talking, and no, I’m not kidding. I’m not June Cleaver. I’m not wearing this.”

“Master San-”

“-Can wear it if he likes it so much. I want something newer, something more modern, and doesn’t constrict me.” Visions of a former, fully-human YN sprung back to you in a series of fond memories: Going to dance clubs with friends on weekends; taking drives around town listening to music and smoking cigarettes. “I want to wear high-waisted pants and shorts again; ripped knees, lacy shirts and leg warmers. I want bright, funky colors and makeup styles. I want my teased hair or tight curls or whatever I’m into at the moment. I want the elegance of Princess Di and the sexiness of Madonna. I want to be cute and feminine like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles.” You thought about it with longing, “I want to be me again.”

Wooyoung nodded, hand on his chin as he considered your request. “An 80’s babe, huh? I can make that work. I’ll need time though.”

“That’s fine,” you said. “I’m sick of being dressed up like a Barbie doll. I’m more than that.”

“Then what are you wearing today? Nothing?”

You looked around the dressing room. For once, you browsed the different outfits yourself. Seonghwa’s styles bordered between lolita dolls to elegant rich girls. Hongjoong like the hot goth girl with fishnets and lace. San, as you knew, liked full skirts and heels. No. None of that. You found a button down in Seonghwa’s section, white with a red polka dot design. With scissors from the nail kit, you cut it across, creating a loose crop top. You discovered a pair of distressed acid wash shorts in Hongjoong’s part, which you paired with a white belt with a crescent-moon buckle. Simple white sneakers remained hidden behind San’s shoe collection, which you tied on yourself.

“Accessorize,” you said next, grabbing oversized hoop earrings, multiple bangles and necklaces.

Excitement shoots through your nerves as you put yourself together. It reminded you of nights out with friends or trips to the mall.

“Oh my god, I remember doing stuff like this at the mall!” you sighed fondly, slipping on several bangles. “I’d go there every weekend with my friends and we’d shop around, try stuff on, get food at the food court, hang out and gossip. It was the best,” you beamed.

“Like a true 80’s teen.”

You turned around, and Wooyoung wore a bright, wide smile. Shaking his head, he had clasped hands over his mouth as he took you in. He let out a cheer, clapping as you twirled in front of him.

“Get in the chair, girl,” Wooyoung said, excited beyond belief. “Get in the chair. I know exactly what to do. Jongho, get my hair kit.”

You’d never seen the stylist so ecstatic before.

“I have been dying to experiment!” he confirmed, working gel through your hair. “I love a good lolita style or a punk rock look, but gosh it got so dull. Where’s the pizzazz? The flare? The fire? Everything looked so dated! If I had to make one more frilly dress, I was going to puke.”

By the time Wooyoung finished, you felt refreshed. Staring at yourself in the long mirror, you didn't feel like a slave anymore. You might as well be at Saks, trying on new clothes for your wardrobe after being at the salon. You twirled again, trying to see it from all angles before deciding you loved it.

“It's gorgeous!” you beamed, fixing your hair around your face. The old you. The one who didn't wear a collar or work in a brothel. Happiness swelled in your chest, burning your eyes with tears. “I love it so much! It's absolutely wicked!” you turned to Wooyoung, jumping and hugging him tightly. “You're the best!”

“Thank you, I know.”

“I need more,” you told him, still in his arms. “I need so much more. How soon can you have it done?”

“Next week,” Wooyoung said. “Any icon you want in particular?”

“Surprise me.”

“Done.”

He kissed both your cheeks, snapped his fingers for his assistants to pack up everything. Wooyoung made a box with his fingers, eyeing you through it like a photographer does to their subject.

“It's totally inspired,” Wooyoung said happily. “I'm going to make you an absolute icon. Everyone will be talking about it. Everyone, everyone, everyone!”

“That's exactly what I want.”

“Good. Come by my shop tomorrow. We can go over designs together.”

“Perfect!”

You saw the clothes people wore in the city. It spanned between medieval and contemporary, but mostly remained drab and dark. You didn't mind a bit of black from time to time, though not every day. Fluffing up your hair again, you left the dressing room and walked to breakfast. You knew you'd be late, and that Cook will grumble when you change your menu, but you didn’t care. A light, airy feeling came over you, making you feel positively giddy.

“Today is the start of something great, Jongho,” you smiled going down the stairs. “I can feel it!”

“Absolutely, Mistress. I'm glad to see it.”

When you walked into San's dining room, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered more. Sitting at his usual spot at the table, coffee and breakfast in front of him as he read a newspaper.

“Morning!” you said, strutting into the dining room with hopes that he'd notice you. The daisies in the centerpiece did. You didn’t know how, since they didn’t move, but they did.

“Morning, Darling,” he said, sipping his coffee and continuing to read. “You took quite a while. I thought I was going to have to go to your dressing room myself. Wooyoung being indecisive again?”

“Not really,” you stood in front of him, “He and I were collaborating on something new.”

“Oh? Like what?” When he finally put the paper down, his face dropped. San sat there taking you in for a minute or so before he spoke. “This is certainly a change.”

“A big one,” you grinned. “Do you like it?”

“Does my opinion matter?” he said, unable to look away from you.

“Of course it does,” you said, sitting down in front of him. Jongho poured your coffee and set out the cream and sugar for you. You began fixing it yourself, “I might not be your slave anymore, but I still care about you. I hope you’d feel the same?”

“Yes, you little fool,” he said with a slight head shake, smiling softly. “I'd never stop caring for you, Darling. I can still call you that, can I?”

“I quite like it, so yeah,” you beamed, getting a sip of coffee. Jongho served your breakfast, a spinach omelet with nothing else. “Yeah, I'm not eating this. I want pancakes and bacon.”

“But, um, the masters planned healthy meals for you, Mistress,” Jongho said timidly. “I’m not sure if Cook can go outside the plan.”

“Tell him that he can, and he will because I want crispy bacon and a stack of fluffy pancakes.”

Jongho glanced at San, and you knew what he was asking. Even with your new status, you needed permission.

“With some eggs, at least?” San suggested to you.

“Eggs are fine. Could you tell Cook I'd like pancakes, eggs and bacon, please?”

“Right away, Mistress.”

He took your plate back and left in a puff of smoke. San still grinned in amusement over his newspaper.

“Someone's changed overnight,” San noted, surprised by your new attitude. “You took to your new status easier than I thought you might.”

“It isn't much different to my previous life,” you shrugged, fixing your coffee on your own. “I just get called ‘Mistress’ instead of ‘Ma'am’.”

“What about the clothes upstairs?” he asked. “We paid a lot of money for those. I'd hate to see them get wasted.”

“I can still wear some of them,” you said. You took a sip of your coffee, and hummed at the sweetness. “I'll keep the ones I like. I'm tired of rotating the same outfits because you three wanted to dress me up like a doll. Everything in that closet is so old and lame. You wanted me to shine, but I was doing anything but that.”

“If you hated your dresses-”

“-I didn't hate them. They just weren't me.”

“Well, if you wanted something else, you could have asked me. I would've had Wooyoung make you new things.”

“I didn't know I could.”

“I'm not Seonghwa,” he said, going back to his coffee and newspaper. “I don't mind bending my own rules every so often. I told you I wanted you to be happy.”

“I thought you meant the type of happiness you approved of at the time.”

“No. I want you to be whatever type of happy you feel.” He then said, “Even if you prefer sleeping in a greenhouse now.”

“I didn't sleep there.”

“One of the maids said your bed is covered in flowers and moss.”

“That kind of happened on its own? I was thinking about my mother again and she loved peonies. I guess that extended to the vine I had on my arm.”

“That is one thing we hoped you'd at least want to do,” he said. “We don't know the extent of your powers yet. You need to learn how to control them the way other demons do. We can't have doors getting blown off whenever you throw a tantrum.”

“How would I do that?”

“With a mix of people.”

“Like?”

“Yeosang, Yunho, Mingi, Seonghwa, Hongjoong and myself,” he said, “To name a few. In a way, they are still those lessons you hated but now actually things you need. It won't be easy, but we'll be there to help you.” He noticed the wilting daisies, and said, “Let's do something now: tru making those healthy again.”

“They are pretty sad,” you frowned, looking at the flowers in their tiny vase. “The vase is too small for them and nobody’s changed the water.”

“You can make them grow. Give it a shot.”

You reached out to the lowest hanging one. Delicately, you touched one of its smooth petals, seeing where it began withering away. You smiled when gradually, the small bundle began filling with color again. Their stems turned their normal green, and the tiny buds along the stems bloomed right before your eyes.

“There…” you smiled at the flowers, “All better.”

“Plant manipulation,” San concluded. “That much is obvious. With a bit more training, we can find out what other abilities you have hidden inside you.”

“Does Yeosang have to be there?”

He chuckled, “Not all the time.”

Jongho brought your breakfast, and you groaned at the sight of it. “I always used to get pancakes after a night out,” you said, drizzling syrup on them. “Nothing's better than stuffing your face after getting plastered.”

San smiled as he watched you eat your breakfast. He took in your new look and attitude from afar. You're sure he'd hoped you'd keep wearing the dresses, but he knew you wouldn't. You'd broken free of your collar, and you'd never do what you didn't want to again.

“Before you go gallivanting around the city,” he said, finishing his coffee and breakfast, “You'll have to go to the registration office. You have a meeting with Jackson.”

“The department head guy?”

“That's him. He has paperwork you need to read through and sign.”

“Ugh, even in Hell you can't escape red tape.”

“It's an essential part to the system unfortunately,” he agreed.

“Do you have paperwork? I'm not even sure what it is you do there.”

“I work the battleground most days,” he said. “But, there are days where I commentate instead so yeah, there's paperwork sometimes. You know, reading off the list of challengers and fighters, knowing their stats and skills.”

“So, like sports?”

“Yeah. Everyone goes to the arena, so there’s also ticket sales, concessions, and other boring financial stuff too. It's the worst part of it.”

“Can I go sometime?”

“You're free to do as you like.”

“But I still want to ask. I'd be a dick if I showed up without you wanting me to be there.”

“Why would I not want you there? I'd love to have my Darling cheering me on from the stands.”

“I don't know,” you shrugged. “I had a boyfriend who hated it when I showed up to his football practices. He said he felt embarrassed because his teammates would talk about me.”

“Shitty boyfriend then.”

“Very. I dumped him a week later.”

San laughed, and you began discussing previous partners. Talking to him as normal couples do felt refreshing. The barrier between master and slave lifted and you became equals. Whether they liked it or not, they had to address you like a person.

“I am going to miss coming home to you,” he said as you walked with him to the apartment door. “I liked walking in to see you all dolled up and waiting for me. It felt nice.”

“I’ll still be here when you come back,” you told him. “It’s not like I’m going to completely throw out everything.” You wrapped your arms around his midsection, “I’ll always want to have dinner and spend time with you. That part doesn’t change.”

“Like I said, the schedules were Seonghwa’s dumb idea,” San assured. He kissed your forehead, “I didn’t mind you having freedom. Now, it seems I have no choice in it anymore.”

“Not entirely,” you kissed his lips, then said, “Have a good day.”

“I will now that I’ve gotten kisses from you.”

“Ugh, you’re so corny sometimes,” you laughed.

“You love it.”

You both said goodbye again, and you turned to Jongho who stood behind you. “San says I have a meeting with someone named Jackson?”

“You do,” Jongho nodded. “Yunho gave me the news in the kitchen. He’s expecting us soon. Unless, you’d rather not go?”

“It sounds important, so we should probably go,” you said. “I love a little city excursion. Go get Mingi and bring a car around. I’ll go grab a purse.”

“Will do, Mistress.”

He disappeared and you left the apartment. Purse options being quite limited, you chose one and transferred things from the last one. Determined to make the most of your day, you’d go to the boring meeting, then do something fun. You didn’t know what yet, but Jongho might have an idea or two.

****

Demon transportation varied depending on taste. Hongjoong liked the sleek luxury vehicles befitting a rich boy; Seonghwa’s white and gold carriages reminded him of his times in mortal world; San drove old fashion muscle cars and motorcycles. You remembered from times in the city that demons drove all kinds of cars and bikes. Taxis could be cars or horses and buggies. In the backseat of a fancy black car, you watched the multiverse of Inferno move past you. On paved roads, you saw the metropolis demons created for themselves. You learned fashion spanned centuries: you saw men dressed like Roman gladiators and women dressed in the height of Victorian style. One street vendor wore a jester’s costume and sold peppermint sticks and hard candies. A couple strolling the market district wore the Korean hanboks of kings and queens.

“I never realized how diverse this place was,” you said to Jongho. He sat beside you while Mingi drove down the street. Your bodyguard never refused a trip into the city. “People really just kept on living whatever life they lived upstairs.”

“It was a lot easier than adapting to a new society, I suppose,” Jongho shrugged. “Not many demons like admitting it, but when we started going up into the living world, we picked up a lot of human customs. Everything from fashion to music to sports and entertainment. We sort of absorbed it then regurgitated it back out.”

“Mingi mentioned that to me yesterday,” you said, staring out the window. “It’s messed up. Demons like looking down on humans, but they actually take so much from us. They hate us, but won’t admit how much they actually need us.”

“Us?”

“You know what I mean.”

“And not all demons hate humans,” he said. “I quite like them. They’re fun to mess with.”

“In what way?”

With a click of his fingers, the purse on your lap vanished before your eyes. Before you could protest, you saw it in Jongho’s hand. He gave you a mischievous smile, handing you the bag back, “You should’ve seen what I could do in the living world.”

“Huh?”

“Up in the living world, I used to possess people and cause general mischief,” he shrugged, “No big deal.”

“Sounds like a big deal,” you snorted. “What’s it like possessing someone?”

“It varies,” he said. “Some people made it incredibly easy while others put up a fight. You kind of have to linger around for a bit and do stuff. You know, like opening all the drawers in their house, making weird sounds, and the usual tricks. Professionals know to start with the soft stuff before pulling out the big guns.”

“You mean general ghost stuff to make them think it’s a poltergeist or a spirit and not a demon?”

“Precisely. It’s all in the mind games. Get them paranoid. Gaslight them and make them see stuff or question their own sanity little by little. Ooh, and if it’s a couple?! Double the pleasure, double the fun,” he laughed, delight in his soft eyes. “I used to like turning them on one another. The negative energy really opens up the gateway into possession. Then, when you finally got ‘em good and angry, then the fun begins for real.”

“Tell me more,” you insisted.

Jongho then divulged into various possession stories. He told you about the young man he took on a crime spree across South Korea. He mentioned the young couple he terrorized for months before they found a priest unafraid of demons. He delivered every story with the same delight a person does with fond memories. It felt good sitting next to him, listening and talking without sex being involved. You enjoyed a good fuck as much as anyone, but must it be every time?

“Did you ever possess anyone, Mingi?” you asked, resting your head on the partition window.

“Nah, not my thing,” he shook his head. “It feels like wearing someone’s old, dirty clothes. It’s gross to me.”

“Have you done it?”

“A few times. It’s sort of a right-of-passage thing for younger demons,” he answered. “It’s expected.”

“Oooh, can I possess people?” you asked, excited.

“Nope,” Jongho said from behind you. “You’re part-human, Mistress.”

“I have demon blood though.”

“Not enough for you to enter another person’s mind and corrupt their spirit,” he smiled at your excitement. “Besides, you don’t need to possess someone to get them to do what you want. You have your charms and your lips to do that.”

“My kisses just make people horny. That’s not that special.”

“I’m sure if you experimented, Mistress, you’d be able to do more than control a person’s genitals with those lips.”

“You think I can control people?” you asked, sitting back in your seat beside him. “Like, their minds?”

“Maybe. I’ve seen it done. We’d have to test it as we go.”

“And here we are,” Mingi interrupted, stopping the car outside an office building.

You might be back home on the way to work if it weren’t for the eternal smog covering the skies and the constant heat. The range of different demons also changed the scene considerably. On a sign outside, you saw the words “City of Inferno Official Headquarters” with a directory sign beside it. There, you glimpsed departments such as “Crossroad Appeals Office”, “Possession and Infestation”, and “Cambion Counseling and Aid”. Jongho didn’t lie. Demons truly modeled themselves after humans in every aspect of life.

Mingi opened your door for you and you stepped out. Putting on sunglasses from your purse, you gazed around the front area while Jongho discussed a wait time with Mingi. You always imagined Hell being a landscape of fire and brimstone, not a city with buildings and parking spaces. The revelation had been startling at first. When Jongho came back to you, he led you into the building.

“Just let me do the talking,” he told you as you entered. “Master Seonghwa submitted your initial paperwork already, but you do need to sign and confirm some things with Jackson.”

“What paperwork?”

“Nothing major,” he said, pressing an elevator button, “Just basic information to have on hand: family names, occupations, housing, offspring and all that. Since you went unregistered your entire life, you’ll have a few more questions than most people.”

It sounded dull, but you didn’t want the masters getting into trouble. They may have kept you like a pet, but they didn't ongoing mistreat or abuse you. At least, not in a way you didn't consent to. You entered the elevator, and Jongho pressed for the fourth floor. You rode in silence, nerves starting to pinch as the elevator climbed.

“Fourth Floor: Department of Cambion Relations, Cambion Counseling and Aid, and Cambion Registration,” a cool female voice said as the doors opened up onto the floor.

Across the entire floor, you saw dozens of cubicles and desks. Demons worked on computers, typing up reports or answering phone calls. A few passed by you with folders or boxes with more papers inside. The hum of general chatter, printing machines, computers and keyboards reminded you once again of home. You breathed in the crisp air, letting it sink into you. Jongho brought you over to a reception desk near the doorway, where a female succubus sat working on her computer.

“Morning,” Jongho said, “We’re here to see Mr. Wang from Registration?”

“Room thirteen,” she said, without looking away from her screen.

“Thanks.”

Jongho led you alongside the office space, both your footsteps muffled by the carpeted floors. The atmosphere remained alive and buzzing. It brought back memories of the YN you left behind. Finding Room Thirteen, Jongho gave a soft knock before a voice spoke out.

“Come in.”

Jackson Wang appeared suave and chic in his emerald suit and trimmed, parted hair. You understood immediately why he and Seonghwa were friends. He'd finished typing on his keyboard when he saw Jongho in the doorway.

“Jongho, good morning! How are you?”

Jackson stood up to greet your handler. His office looked similar to many you'd seen before: clever unopened books on the shelves, fake plants in pristine pots, cluttered paperwork and leather furniture. All on top of a light blue carpet that muffled all sounds. Jackson and Jongho exchanged pleasantries while you looked around. Degrees and certificates came from universities in the living world; what sort of demon goes to a human college? You supposed college campuses might be full of “sin”. But, it sounded so unlike what demons claim to do.

“And this must be YN,” Jackson turned to you, and you shook hands. “Seonghwa told me all about you. Your story truly is unique. It's incredibly rare for a cambion to go unregistered in this day and age, especially with the new system.”

“I suppose my mother hoped I never ended up here,” you shrugged, eyeing the fake fern in the corner. You hated the fake ones. They had no life and carried that cheap plastic shine. “Seonghwa mentioned paperwork?”

“Yes,” Jackson gestured to the two armchairs, and went around to his desk chair. He began withdrawing a folder from a file drawer, “Nothing too complicated. It's mostly just documents saying you come into our world understanding our laws, and will abide by them at all times. There are a few consensus forms, since that helps us keep track of the cambion population.” He passed you a vanilla folder, “Seonghwa already went ahead and put himself down as your demon host, so the housing document is already filled out.”

“Demon host?”

“The demon you're living with until you find your own place to live or until you live with him permanently,” he said. “They're responsible for making sure you keep yourself in line, and learn our way of life down here. In normal cases, the host is usually the parent if they come back from the living world. But, in your case, it'd be Seonghwa, since he's the heir.”

The first form seems simple enough. It asked for age, date of birth, date of death, height and other useless facts. The second form listed the basic laws of Inferno, and that you understood and respected them. You didn’t see yourself committing any crimes, so you signed it. The third described what the form called “Acknowledgement of Inheritance and Social Status”.

“Inheritance?” you looked up to Jackson. “I inherit stuff?”

“Yes,” Jackson consulted his computer, typing in a few words before turning to you, “You’re a Lady of Eden so naturally that earns you a garden patch in Eden, should you want that. Since your mother is a daughter of Lilith, making you a first-generation granddaughter, you earn the title of Marchioness-”

“-Marchioness?!-”

“-Which affords you special nobility status, obviously,” he said finally.

“For example,” Jongho said, “Master Seonghwa, Hongjoong and San are Prince Asmodeus’s sons, so they’re technically Dukes over regular lords. They don’t like to flaunt their titles so much, but they have them on paper. Any children they should have would be a Marquess or Marchioness. I thought Yeosang would’ve covered the hierarchy system with you.”

“We were getting there.”

The news surprised you. You knew you’d be a person of some importance, but YN, Marchioness of Eden, sounded so official and regal.

“Your title, as it says there, changes if you ever married someone of a higher rank,” said Jackson. “Let’s say you end up marrying Seonghwa. You’d go from Marchioness to Duchess. Most demons don’t marry below their social class, but it does happen and that person goes a step down instead. Psh, it’s embarrassing in my opinion but true love conquers all I suppose.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

The question slipped out before you could stop it. With it hanging in the air, heat filled your cheeks at once. The question crossed your mind several times since learning about it. Wanting to protect you from Inferno seemed to be the only logical answer, but protect you from what? You guessed being a royal in Hell had more downsides to upsides. Your mother left her entire demon life behind her. She could have returned at any time, but chose the living world. Thinking back to the masters’ mother, you wondered if she’d originally planned on coming back home but never did. No, not Mama. She wasn't like that. Finishing up the next few documents, mostly “Visitation Confidentiality” and “Eternal Stay”, you handed the folder back to Jackson. He double checked all the forms before smiling up at you.

“Perfect,” he beamed. “I’ll send these to the certification and identification departments so you can get your identification card. It helps us keep track of the population, you see. It’ll take a few days, but with this information in the system, you’re free to visit Eden.”

“Visit Eden?”

“It’s customary for newcomers to visit their homelands, so to speak,” he placed one paper in a fax machine, punching the right number into it. “Lilith loves welcoming her children and grandchildren home. She’ll be delighted by you specifically, since you’re a first-generation grandchild.”

“What’s she like?” The thought of meeting such a high ranking demon made you anxious.

“Pleasant most of the time. Just don’t step on her hydrangeas. The Sisters of Eden will be expecting you, so I’d get it out of the way if I were you.”

“Would my mother be there?” you asked in a small voice, fear injecting itself into your veins. It made you sick. “I…I don’t know what happened to her before I died.”

You never bothered asking. Guilt stuck to your chest thinking of every time you screened her calls or pretended not to be home. You were so mean. If you had any regret, it’d be what you did to her. Would she forgive you? You pushed her away from your mind, and stood up.

“I guess we’re done here then?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he nodded, standing to shake your hand and Jongho’s, good to see you as always. Let’s get together when you’re not busy waiting on people. Though, to be honest,” he turned to look at you, “I wouldn’t mind waiting on her.”

Too blinded by guilt to really take in the compliment, you just nodded and smiled. You and Jongho left the office, and ended up in the elevator before you knew it. The last conversation you had with her came sliding back into your head.

‘Julie’s having a baby shower. You should come.”

“I hate Julie.”

“I know, but I’d…I’d like to see you, honey cake.”

She loved you so damn much. You resented her weakness, but it turned out you’d been wrong the entire time. That desperate need to fix things poked at you as you got back into the car. Yet, fear kept you planted. What if she did hate you? You’d never consider her capable of hate, but that’d been before the truth came out. You wouldn’t blame her. You’d hate yourself too if the roles were reversed.

“Mistress?” Jongho broke through your train of thought, trying to catch your glazed eyes. “Mistress?”

“Huh? Wha…Oh yeah, what’s…What’s up?”

“Where do you want to go next? The Quarter Cafe is open, and they serve the best beignets in the city.”

“I’m not hungry right now.”

“The Merchant’s District, then? They have fashion boutiques spanning across different centuries of clothing. I know this one dress maker who makes gorgeous 18th century gowns. She worked for Marie Antionette I heard. Master Seonghwa would enjoy it, for sure.”

“I’m…That’s not my thing.”

“Shopping is your ‘thing’ though.”

She wouldn’t hate you. Mama never hated anyone; not even annoying customers at the shop or that bitch Loraine who stole her peach cobbler recipe. But, you’d treated her so terribly. Your father died a few years before you, which left her alone. Safe, but alone. You like to think she came back home.

“Mistress, we can’t stay here all day.”

“Destination, please,” Mingi said, “That rent-a-cop keeps eyeing me.”

She sought out the comfort of home and her demon family. She’d be surrounded by her flowers and plants in an endless spring. Jackson suggested you go see your grandmother, which will be a different kind of anxiousness, but what if she’s there as well?

“Are there any gardening stores or florists in town?” you finally asked.

“A fair few,” he answered. “Why?”

“Take me to the best one. I want to see Octavius,” you told him, “And the rest. That greenhouse is in serious need of some serious TLC. Maybe the supply store will have whatever I need.”

“Perfect!”

Mingi drove you to a small hardware store that had a gardening station. The potted “starter plants” all cooed when you walked past them, though you’re sure only you heard them. You decided you’d buy them another time. You had plants who needed you at home. Toiling the earth and regrowing those neglected plants would force her from your mind. It’ll erase the questions and worries floating around in your head. Too much went on today for you to add her to the list. Buying the standard supplies, bags of fertilizers and fresh soil, you went back home determined to keep yourself occupied.

Anything to keep her away.

****

“I just died in your arms tonight. It must’ve been something you said. I just died in your arms tonight…”

They liked the music. You watched the yellow-mouths sway side to side to the song in separate pots as you refreshed their soil. A row of purple and pink hibiscuses sat on a shelf moving to the beat of Cutting Crew’s ‘Died in Your Arms’ above you. The small stereo you’d stolen from Hongjoong’s bedroom sat on a wooden table where Jongho placed snacks for you, but you didn’t have an appetite. Instead, you asked him to bring you a bucket of innards for Octavius’s offspring, who only ate meat.

“You guys are going to feel so good when I finish,” you said, adding a bit more soil to their box, then digging separate holes to transfer them. “Seonghwa should be ashamed of himself honestly. He created all of you, then left you to suffer here alone. You must be starving for attention.”

A low rumble came from nearby. You looked to see the purple and blue plant wiggling its stamen in the air. You smiled.

“I’ll get to you soon enough, Lucius. You just hang on. Everyone’s getting their turn.”

As you delicately placed the yellow-mouths back in their planter, you felt something shift behind you. “No, Jongho, I don’t need anything right now. Thank you.”

“It’s my job to stand nearby in case you need me, Mistress,” he said, coming up beside you.

You noticed he’d changed out of his butler uniform into a flannel shirt, boots, and denims. He looked different outside his uniform, which always looked so clean and proper. Here, he might’ve passed for a human were it not for his horns. You noticed he'd rolled his sleeves to his elbows, showing off his lean forearms. He picked up a bucket of loose soil and a spade, walking over to Lucius.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you told him, standing up from the planter and wiping off loose dirt from your knees. “I really don’t mind working here myself. It’s sort of therapeutic for me, especially after what’s been happening.”

“Mistress, you are my sole responsibility around here,” he said. He examined Lucius, taking in his withering curved petals that resembled a seat. “If I left you here alone, and something happened to you, The Masters would have my head.”

“It’s not like I’m their property anymore,” you told him. You saw Jongho starting to dig around Lucius, but you stopped him. “His soil is fine. He’s just thirsty. Samantha, watering can, please.”

One of Ocatvius’s offspring approached with a watering can. You tossed her a strip of raw meat from a bucket, and she slumped away. Once you began pouring around Lucius, the bulb glowed with life and squealed happily. It made you smile. These plants might be sentient creatures made for pleasure and pain, but they had the same needs as any other. Lucius, getting enough water, closed himself up and glowed dimly. He was good for a while.

“Like I said,” you continued, moving over to a shelf of various normal plants. “You don’t need to worry about them. I’m your mistress, and if I say you don’t have to be around, then you don’t have to be.”

You touched their faded, dry leaves and petals, feeling them clinging to life. You assessed the damage to be too much direct sunlight and no water. Pressing your hand to a nearby vine, you coaxed it to spread across the wide window. You grabbed the watering can and began pouring generous amounts in each pot. Their relief radiated off them as water seeped into their dry soil. You hated thinking how long they'd sat in the sunlight, left to die. You knew you could heal them with a simple touch, but working the plants yourself felt better. You also sensed they liked their sunlight and water given directly.

“And if I want to be?” he asked, grabbing a spray bottle to water the smaller, more delicate plants. “Would you still send me away?”

“Not really, I don’t think so. It's not like anyone around here actually talks to me,” you said. With the first shelf finished, you moved to the next one.

“I talk to you,” he said, mildly offended.

“Obviously I didn't mean you. I meant other people.”

“The others talk to you too. The Masters as well.”

“They talk about me,” you pointed out, “Not to me. They only do it when they’re horny.”

“Alright, yes that’s true at times,” he said, uncertain of how to continue now. He watched you begin repotting a dying orchid, and you knew he fished for something to say. “The Masters and the rest of us might enjoy sex with you, but that doesn’t mean it’s all we want. We are incubi after all. It’s in our nature, and it’s in yours too.” You saw him grin out of the corner of your eye, “You’ve gone after them a few times in the past. The lust isn’t entirely one sided.”

“I suppose not.”

“Since when have you cared about an emotional connection, anyways?”

“Never, but…” you held the soil bag in front of you, “But, it’d be nice if there was one.”

“And there is,” he insisted. “Master Hongjoong typically throws people out of his bed when he’s done with them, or leaves before they wake up. With you, he stays and you stay. He curls up and holds you as if he thinks you'll leave him. Master Seonghwa never lets anyone in his private library, but here he is, letting you have your lessons there. Master San, psh…” he scoffed, “You should’ve seen what he did to that one demon in the arena. He decapitated him after he said he was going to take you from him.”

“What? When was this?”

“It happened in the arena, supposedly. Some of the footmen go there on their off day to see the fights,” he said. “Occasionally, they’ll throw in demon challenger to sort of spice things up, you know? And this one big guy said he heard you’d become San’s pleasure slave. This is all just bravado a lot of the time, by the way,” he added quickly, “But what I heard through the grapevine was that he said he’d cut off San’s head then claim you as his prize. Well, according to one of the guys, San ended up chopping off his head instead.”

“He…He killed someone for me?”

“In a way,” he shrugged. “It was the night he came home with that really bad cut on his torso.”

You recalled that night as you stuck the orchid back in a brand new pot. San not being home on time was your first clue something might’ve gone wrong. Not wanting to make a huge deal out of it, you prepared dinner like normal and waited. And waited. And waited. It was nine o’clock by the time he came through the door with Yunho in tow. He’d taken off his shirt and jacket, so you saw the thick bandages wrapped around his lean torso. The spot of black blood broke the confusion right away. You remembered everything suddenly being about San and his injury. The roast you’d “made” no longer mattered. You’d gone with Yunho into the bedroom, where the butler went to work redressing San’s messy bandages. It’d been ghastly. Ripped, thick and deep, you worried Yunho might not be able to stitch it properly, but he managed expertly.

‘Don’t worry, Darling. I’ll be alright by tomorrow.’

Which he was. San’s demon blood helped him recover overnight. The shredded skin appeared to be knitting itself back together little by little, and no longer needed bandages. He never told you about the fight or what happened. He said it wasn’t important because he won. A soft smile went across your face thinking of how he spent that entire week at home with you. There’d been cuddling, kissing, talking, and soft, passionate sex. You felt entirely one with him in that moment.

“Just because it’s never said out loud doesn’t mean it’s not there, Mistress,” said Jongho. His body heat transferred to you as he stood behind you. Goosebumps went down your arms and up your neck when he touches your lower back. Middle knuckle tracing up your spine, he dragged it lazily up and down as he spoke. “I know I’d do anything you asked of me.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve come to realize how special you are. You’re bold, confident, ambitious and clever. You aren't afraid to be yourself,” he said, “And you don't stand down when someone insults you. Yeosang insults everyone, and they'd take it because of who he is. But, not you. You fought a grandson of Satan, Prince of Wrath, and while you didn't win, you still did it.”

“We ended up fucking then too.”

“It's in your nature, like I said.”

You turned around to face him. Close up, you found Jongho more fascinating. His eyes, dark brown, had the typical red ring around the iris. They carried the same gentleness he showed whenever he saw you. Jongho quickly became the only person you really talked to anymore. Anything you told him stayed between the both of you. He became your friend, your assistant and confidant. Pushing a piece of his hair from his face, you took in his handsomeness. The Masters and the other servants had the conventional attractiveness of demons: lean bodies, sharp jawlines, sultry eyes and smirking lips. He had one of his own. Like a bear, he came across as cute and soft. You knew if you took off his clothes, you'd find him just as fit as the others. Hands sliding up to his shoulders, you felt the muscles rise and fall in a deep breath. In his shirt, you could feel his muscles much easier than in his uniform. Reaching his shoulders, you gave them a tender squeeze.

“Does that mean it's in your nature too?” you asked, sultry and flirty.

“At times,” he answered. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back. The touch warmed your body considerably. “I believe all demons, regardless of classification or status, carry lust inside them. I know,” he kept one hand behind you as the other slowly reached up your body, “That I've had trouble resisting my own instincts lately.”

“How could that be, Jongho?” you asked, gasping softly when he cupped your breast. He kneaded it gently, thumb brushing where your nipple might be. “You're always so strong.”

“You weaken me, Mistress,” he breathed, eyes focused on the tit in his hand. The touch brought back the tingling sensation. “Being around you constantly challenges my resolve. I get to bathe you. I see you naked regularly. I get to see you be fucked relentlessly by my masters. All the blood in my veins rushes to my dick when I watch you in peepholes. I stand there behind that one painting, leaking all over my hand. I kept wishing it was your pussy instead. You drive me insane, and I suffer through it constantly.”

“These hands, you mean?” You covered both his hands with yours. He moaned, feeling your hands guide him over your breasts. “The ones right here?”

“Yes, Mistress.” He gently pushed you against the shelf, trapping you between him and the plants.

“How often?”

“Too often.”

“What do you like seeing the most, hm?” you flicked his lips, letting his taste the intoxicating saliva on it. “Me getting fucked from behind? On my back? On my side? Riding their dicks? Which one?”

“I like watching them tongue your pussy,” he said, trembling from the hard nipples pushing into his hands. “Your pussy is…”

“Pretty?”

“Yes, especially when soaking wet. I just want to eat it all day, even if my jaw gets locked up. I love seeing you wriggle around when they do it. You always look so needy and begging for more. You claw the sheets,” he shuddered at the mental image, “And arch into their face.’

“I just love it so much,” you said, putting one of his fingers in your mouth. He looked up to watch you suck the digit softly. “I love it most when they finger me while they do it.” You moved even closer, toying your tits with one hand while you sucked another finger, “Or when I'm giving one of them a blowjob. You know how much I love sucking dick, particularly big, long, thick demon dick.” You finally touched the tent forming in his pants, smiling when he whimpered. Lifting his head by the chin, you made eye contact as he said, “And I’d love to suck yours.”

“Mi-M-Mistress?”

“I remember all your little whimpering and moaning when you jerked off in front of me,” you told him, feeling him through the denim. “It looked so tasty, I drooled from looking at it. I want to be the one making you whimper like that. Could you do it for me again?”

“Ye-yes,” he nodded hurriedly. “For as long as my Lady wishes.”

“Then let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” you said, lips centimeters from his before they touched.

Jongho involuntarily squeezed both your breasts as you locked lips. Lips caressing each other softly, you started unbuttoning his shirt before you appeared in your bedroom. Once the expanse of smooth, warm tawny skin became exposed, your hands smoothed right over it. Nipples already hard, you rubbed them with the sides of your thumbs. Jongho gave a short huff as the touch sparked his aroused further. You both only broke away only to remove your shirts, coming back together so your skin touched skin. Kissing him, you kept him close as you kissed. You noticed a certain type of hunger taking over the longer your tongues explored each other. The lascivious toxin in your spit mixed with his, and you knew the effect it’d have on him. He seemed to get harder, hungrier and needier. The kiss appeared to weaken Jongho, who let you slide off his jeans and underwear together. His cock free of its confines, your mouth drooled seeing the throbbing muscle. Having him fully nude, you guided him over to your bed. Lust filled his dark eyes, and he looked nowhere except at you.

Climbing on top of him, your center grinded your clothed sex to his bare crotch. You placed his hands over his head towards the board where your vines wrapped themselves around his wrists. Jongho did not pull against the restraint. If anything, it caused him to push up against you. Kissing down his neck, you left small bites and hickeys that marked his tender flesh before you reached one nipple. Jongho whimpered loudest as you licked around one nipple, so you did the same to the other. Your teasing strengthened the feeling between your legs as well. You didn’t mind being the submissive one, but the change felt nice. Jongho sounded so sweet whining underneath you, eyes closing as he relished in the pleasure you created. Leaving his nipples, you pecked down his front to the tip laying on his lower stomach.

One thin vine slid over to where you knelt, and you saw the yellow-green creeper wrap around the base of his dick and balls. The natural cockring brought on new sensations that Jongho bucked into for friction. You ran your hands up and down his thighs, kissing the inner areas to leave more small marks on them. Having you so close yet so far from his dick made it twitch on his stomach. You kissed right up to the underside of his hilt. Jongho sighed when your tongue only slid between the bottom and halfway to the shaft repeatedly. His fists clenched in his restraint, not fighting it even if his body craved more. Each time you licked upwards, you drew closer to the thick, leaking tip. It was when you cupped his balls that Jongho grew louder.

“Mistress,” he breathed, eyes closed, “Please…”

“Hm?” You started swishing your tongue over the backside of the tip.

“Please…suck on it…Please…”

“We’ll get there soon,” you promised between licks.

Swirling your tongue over the most sensitive part, you began lightly stroking him. Squeezing it gently, you moved your tongue from back to front, sliding over the slit on top to taste a bead of precum. Then, you continued only sucking the very tip while you moved your hand up and down. Jongho kept watching you through heavy lidded eyes, lips parted in every moan and whimper as you teased him. Every lick across his head had him quivering. Watching him slowly unravel before you became amusing. Using your spit to coat him, you watched your hand gradually work him. The muscle pulsed in your grasp, somehow getting harder than before. You spat on it again to see it shine in the sunlight, before taking the whole head in your mouth.

This rush of relief had Jongho writhing into the soft blankets and moss. You couldn’t get over the feeling of him dripping on your tongue. The salty drops smeared over your tongue and cheeks, and you swallowed each one. As you went further down, you tasted the smooth skin and felt each vein cross over your lips. The vines restricting his length kept him from cumming while you reached the end of his cock at last. Inside your throat, Jongho let out an uncontrollable series of moans. You let him hear you gag on him, constricting your airway each time and creating more drool to wet him with. You let him push into your face once you buried him in your throat, unable to stop himself with your hand on his balls.

“You really are so well behaved,” you croaked, spitting on his dick before licking it back up, “Letting your mistress do whatever she likes with your lovely cock. I can stay down here forever,” you sucked him further, throating him once more to hear him moan. It was when you moved hand and mouth together that he began quivering. “Mmm,” you licked up the string of precum coming down the sides, “Does my little toy want to cum?”

“Yes,” he moaned, “Yes, I do, Mistress.”

“Are you going to?”

“Only i-i-if you wish.”

“Hm, I don’t think so just yet,” you said, “I’m not done playing.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You maneuvered yourself to face him in reverse, your sex inches from his face and continued sucking him slowly. Tiny bouts of relief came once his hot tongue slid around your aching clit. His thick cock muffled any moans it brought out, which gave a vibrating sensation Jongho loved. Unable to touch you, Jongho could only trace the folds around your pussy before sucking that hard numb. You wiggled your hips over his face, soaked pussy smearing over mouth, chin and cheeks as you did it. The light brushes drove you crazy, needing him to make you cum. You moaned loudest when he captured your clit in his mouth again and quickly swirled his tongue around it. His tongue teased out the orgasm sitting inside you little by little, not focusing on anything else than your tingling nub. Sensing your enjoyment, Jongho continued the same speed and pattern until you finally came. Even as you trembled and shook, your muscles constricting, Jongho kept going.

“Such a good…good boy,” you cried out, not stopping him as he attacked your sensitive sex. “Keep going like that,” you spat and continued jerking at him, “Make me cum again. Make your mistress cum again.”

This time, his tongue slid deep into your sex. You bounced and rocked against the appendage wriggling inside you. Jongho’s mouth had you seeing stars as he tongue fucked you.

“Don’t stop licking, Jongho,” you said, enjoying the overstimulation his tongue made, “Don’t stop.”

Jongho whimpered into your center as you sensed his orgasm approaching. You quickened the pace with your hand, counting down the seconds in your head. His toes curled inwards and his thighs shook as it came closer and closer to the edge. Right when you sensed him there, you pulled away. A muffled ‘Mistress’ came from behind you and you cackled.

“I told you I wanted to play with it,” you said innocently, sliding off him to let him breathe and come down from the edge. Kissing his wet lips, you licked up whatever juices escaped him before sliding your tongue into his mouth. “It’s so much fun.”

Laying on top of him between his legs, you squeezed his dick with your thighs. His thick shaft brushed across your drenched sex in steady, measured thrusts that drove you wild. Fingers rolling his nipples, you smiled as he haphazardly rocked his hips into you. Jongho’s heavy breaths came out with whimpering moans. You never thought you’d see your bear so frantic for a release. It brought a sense of pride to see him like a putty in your hands. You became used to submitting to your partners, since you enjoyed that more, but this felt good. For once, you are in control.

Feeling him shivering once more, you forced yourself to spread your legs apart. Jongho cried, thrashing from the slight pain of being edged once again. When he started coming back down, you lightly grinded against him. Your pussy aching to have him inside, you knew dominants didn’t particularly give into their own desires. They took pleasure from withholding from their submissive. Yet, you craved to have him deep inside you. Everytime he brushes over your entrance, you feel tempted to ride him.

‘Then ride him, Mistress.’

Octavius. His deep, raspy voice sounded in your head like your own thoughts. You glanced up to the peonies around your bed. Your carnivorous, licentious friend had eyes and ears anywhere flowers grew. You wondered if you could do the same.

The vines around Jongho’s wrists slid away, and your servant immediately grabbed your hips to angle you properly. You didn’t stop him as he filled you completely. Hands on either side of him, you steadily moved up and down on him. His cock throbbed against your walls, passing over ridges and bumps within you. Once you started, you did not want to stop. Jongho knew this, and began meeting you in the middle. He only ever came an inch or two out of you every time, and the tip pushing your g-spot made you see stars. Knowing your plant-friends watched nearby made you eager to keep going. Some of them, you knew, needed more than water and sunlight.

“Mistress,” Jongho breathed, wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place, “You feel so good. Please, don’t stop,” he began pushing into you harder and faster, “Don’t make me stop. I want to make you cum. I want to please you.”

“Is that so?” you asked, whirling your hips to move him around inside you. “You wish to please me?”

“Yes,” he whimpered. “Let me make you cum again.”

“Then go ahead,” you whispered in his ear, trying your best not to completely lose it on top of him.

Jongho flipped you onto your back right away. Putting your legs on his shoulders, your servant pumped his cock into you at a deep angle. The perfect angle, if you were honest. Balls smacking your ass, hands palming your tits and nipples, he brought you in for another kiss as he fucked you. Soon enough, your third orgasm crawled towards your center again. It became more sensitive in every thrust. His touches on your nipples, his lips and tongue on your mouth, you broke away when it finally hit you. Something wet squirted onto his balls as he kept going; you could feel that taut feeling erupting again in every cry. You thought you might go insane from his cock. The mere feeling of it stretching and filling you elongated your climax. By the time you finished, Jongho had pinned you down.

“Mistress,” he breathed, “Mistress, Mistress….Can I cum now? Please, please,” he pleaded through gritted teeth, whining as your pussy gripped him.

“Yes,” you replied, rubbing your clit to produce another orgasm. You knew your plants wanted more of it. They needed as much as they could get. “I want you to cum on me. Cum all over me, now.”

Jongho withdrew from you and violently jerked his wet dick. A couple of pumps later, Jongho’s hot cum shot over your stomach and breasts. You watched his entire body clench and shake as he came, his eyes squeezing shut and mouth open. When the last few drops fell onto your sex, you pulled him closer to kiss him again. You wanted him to stay hard just a bit longer. On your mossy bed, you rolled onto your stomach and grinded into his dick. Apparently, your butler wasn’t fazed by how he hadn’t grown soft. He didn’t question or object. He almost seemed incapable of comprehending what was happening. Perhaps your kisses can be dangerous to a person’s sanity.

You giggled as Jongho plunged back into you.

***

A/N: Talk about some big changes in this house. Is YN truly loved or simply lusted over and coveted? That remains to be seen. At least she's got her big bear <3 please like and reblog <3

#pirateeznet #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #choi jongho #jongho x reader #jongho x you #jongho ateez #ateez jongho #jongho smut

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