#He's just got to make sure he can do it right so he's ready for the Christmas Dinner table

[shomatoriashi]

01/28/25; 05:41pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they call you because they miss you ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

you were settled at your desk, simply typing away on your laptop when you heard your phone go off from beside you. curiosity paints your expression when you look down to see your lover’s name flashing across the screen.

with a wide grin on your face, you answer your phone, “well hello, mr. sylus.”

you take a moment to bask in his rich chuckles, “well hello, little dove. i see that you’ve picked up the phone within a single ring. did you miss me that much?”

letting out a hum in response, you playfully spin around in your office chair, “you could say that. or maybe i was just bored at work.”

you shiver when sylus lets out a soft coo of your name. “my poor kitten, left to her own devices while stuck at work. perhaps i can help with mitigating your boredom?”

“yes! a thousand times yes!” you nearly jump out of your seat in response, since you really could go for a nice and refreshing date with your beloved, “but i am curious as to why you called me so suddenly. i thought the leader of onychinus would have been stuck in a meeting at this hour.”

you listen to his laughter once more, “perhaps i too, was feeling bored at work and wished to… hear the sound of your voice. try not to miss me as much as i miss you, kitten. i’ll pick you up after work and shall see you soon.”

after that single phrase, sylus hangs up the call, leaving you grinning like a fool as you fought back the urge to further twirl around in your seat.

you were in the middle of washing the dishes when you heard the sound of your phone going off in the distance. shutting off the faucet, you dry your hands on a towel and made a dash toward your phone settled on the coffee table, recognizing the name as you picked up the call immediately.

“zayne! hello…” you couldn’t hide your soft giggles, leaning into your phone to hear him better, “is everything alright?”

“of course, dear, everything is fine. i just got out of surgery, and it went well.” zayne trails off, and you swore you could picture him running his hands across his locks of hair. you smile once more and ask, “well, that’s good. is there anything you needed from me? did you forget something at the house that you needed me to bring?”

“no, of course not. everything’s fine, dear.”

you look at the time and bite down on your bottom lip, “you’re an awfully busy man, dr. zayne, and i just wanted to make sure that you didn’t need me to bring something to your office, hence why you called.”

“do i need a reason to hear your voice?”

you shiver upon hearing his admission, feeling the heat settle against your cheeks while allowing your smile to widen even further, “hehe, no… you don’t need a reason to hear my voice. i quite like hearing your voice, too.”

an amused chuckle was heard coming from the other line, “then it’s settled. i can take the rest of the day off, and i’d like to spend it with you, honey. would you like to go see a movie with me and have dinner later on?”

“of course! i-i’ll go ahead and get ready!” you bask in zayne’s laughter, following his silent urge to get ready as he begins his trek back home to you.

with your plans confirmed with zayne, you hang up the phone and prepared for your much needed date with zayne.

you were simply settled within the comfort of your bed, watching a movie on your phone when a sudden call breaks you out of your immersion. seeing your boyfriend’s name, you answer his call with a breathless, “hello?”

you nearly melt upon hearing xavier’s sweet whisper within your ear, “hey, i just wanted to call and check on you.”

“aw, that’s sweet of you.” you cling to your favorite bunbun plush while smiling into the phone. “but aren’t you on a mission right now?”

there was a few beats of silence on the other end, followed by the sound of xavier clearing his throat, “i am on a mission, but it’s been a few days since i’ve last seen you, and i miss hearing your voice.”

you nearly squeal into the plush at how cute xavier sounded, and you could practically see the pout on his face. “hehe, i’ve missed you, too…” feeling playful, you then proceed to ask, “are you pouting right now, xavi?”

you hear another series of coughs on the other end, with xavier spouting off denials before eventually caving in, “okay, maybe i was pouting a little bit.”

you were grinning into the phone while telling him, “how about when you come back home, we spend the day in together and have a movie marathon on the couch? and you can take all the naps you want, too.”

you bask in the sounds of xavier’s gentle laughter, detecting the happiness in his voice when he tells you, “that sounds like the perfect plan, i can’t wait to see you again.”

a few minutes later, you said your goodbyes to your boyfriend, allowing him to get back to work, but not before hearing him say to you, “wait for my return, okay? i’ll be thinking of you always.”

you felt a little sad at the fact that your boyfriend was away promoting his latest exhibit in another country-

but alas, due to your conflicting work schedules, you had to remain back at home while supporting rafayel from the sidelines. as you head back home for the day, a sudden call stops you from entering your car. extracting your phone out of your purse, you smile upon seeing rafayel’s nickname flash across the screen.

“hello hello, my little goober.”

“hey, i am not your goober! i’m a famous artist that you love and adore.” you giggle on the other line, already picturing rafayel’s pouting face and puffed cheeks, his gorgeous eyes filled with a playful indignation at your teasing.

you continue to softly laugh at your beloved, getting into your car while starting the engine, “and you also happen to be a little bit of a spoiled brat as well.”

“yeah, but i’m your spoiled brat.” rafayel admits with an amused chuckle, making you smile in response. “how’s your exhibit doing?”

“ugh, it’s utterly boring without you here, princess. honestly, i should have brought you with me.”

you were about to remind him about how you had to work, only to stop speaking when rafayel continues explaining, “but i guess i’ll just have to make do with calling you, just to hear your voice.”

“aw rafe, you missed my voice?”

the artist lets out a scoff on the other end, “of course i do. i miss everything about you, princess.”

before you could reply, you heard a deep voice on the other line, with rafayel letting out a sigh, “sorry princess, some people are waiting to interview me, and i can’t turn them down. i’ll call you later, before you go to sleep, so wait for me?”

“of course, rafe. i’ll always wait for you.”

you giggle once more upon hearing him blowing you kisses through the phone, “drive safely back home!” he tells you before hanging up the call, leaving you smiling as warmth was felt coursing through your veins.

you had to go back home after spending two weeks at skyhaven with caleb. despite how you wanted to stay with him much longer, you had already used up your vacation days at work and had to return.

currently, you were on your lunch break, simply munching on a sandwich when your phone begins to ring. you put down your food and smile upon seeing caleb’s name across your screen, answering his call within a mere few seconds.

“caleb? hello… how are you doing?”

“terrible.” was his simple answer, yet you could picture the smile in his voice.

“aw, and why are you feeling terrible?”

“because i miss you so much already.”

your heart melts upon hearing his confession, making you sigh as you tell him, “of course. i miss you so much, too. even though we spent a whole two weeks together.”

“exactly. see, that’s why i always knew you were the perfect girl for me. we just… feel so strongly about each other. i don’t like being away from you for even a second.” you giggle a bit at his admission, “i feel… flattered that the colonel could feel so strongly about little ol’ me.”

caleb grumbles a bit at your teasing, and you swore you could picture the light dust of pink settled across his defined cheekbones. “of course, you mean everything to me…” he trails off for a moment before letting out a chuckle, “that’s why, this time i’m going to spend some time at your place. i took a total of three weeks off, just so i can come and see you.”

you frown a bit while clutching your phone tighter against your ear. this was strange, but why did it sound like caleb was getting louder and louder, with a bit of an echo heard on the other line?

“you can’t tell me that you haven’t missed me, too.” you gasp, finally noticing the tall figure that was seen from your periphery. trailing your gaze upwards, you recognized his signature jacket and boyish grin, immediately hanging up the phone before jumping into caleb’s arms.

he laughs, fully embracing you now by wrapping his arms around your frame while giving your cheek an audible kiss. “i’m here, pipsqueak.”

and you couldn’t be happier at seeing your beloved colonel again, ready to spend your days basking in the warmth of his embrace.

end notes: some fluff to destress and keep me awake 😭 my meds have been making me feel sleepier than usual so i’m writing and posting this to stay awake 🥹

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: boyfriend Katsuki's strange guilty pleasure, harassment, nasty online comments, noncon ideations, online pervs

♡ FEM reader

Your laptop’s out of battery, and you have something you need to check—so, instead of waiting for it to charge, you decide to just use Katsuki’s. The guy’s so anal-coded—he has it plugged into the charger every second of every day to avoid running out. 

“I’m borrowing your laptop, Kats!” you call. 

He’s the bath, so you’re not sure he heard you, but also, you don’t think it’s any big deal. You’ve been a couple for years now, and living together has only brought you closer. Besides, it’s not as if you’re going to snoop or anything—you’re just going to check something real quick.

You rethink it when you have to write in his password. Maybe it would be better to just wait for your own machine to get ready—it’s not as if you’re in a hurry or anything. But then again, at the same time, it doesn’t hurt to give it your best guess.

Right on the first try—your name and birthday. Though you appreciate the gesture, he really should see into getting something stronger than that. The information he is privy to through his work is quite sensitive, after all.

But anyway. Onto the task at hand. You click into the browser. It’s already got some tabs open. 

You don’t mean to let your eyes wander, but it just can’t be helped. Katsuki sits before this thing, sometimes for hours during the day. Of course, most of it is surely work-related, writing incident rapports and profiles and the like. But this page right here… you don’t know… something about it seems strange.

“Some type of forum…” you mutter to no one but yourself. Katsuki had never struck you as the type to neither read nor partake in other people’s banter. Again, you’d promised yourself you weren’t going to pry, but it only takes a few seconds to read the comments—it’s over before you can stop yourself.

I bet she’s a squealer, like a really cute squealer

I wanna tie her up in an abandoned building somewhere no one will hear her scream

Same, but not on the bed though, on the floor and take her like a bitch

I‘m sure dynamight fucks her every day, i know i would! 

Dynamight’s such a lucky guy I hate him

You blink reading through the comments—completely having forgotten what you were doing in the first place. Who are these people? What are these comments about? You keep scrolling, eyebrows knit, and then you see it—your name. 

She looks like the type of girl that lets her man fuck her anywhere he wants whenever he wants

I’d literally kill for an hour of having her alone. And I’d make good use of that hour. Make her dump that blond asshat to be with me.

If she were my girlfriend, I’d keep her leashed to the bed with a collar. Can’t have other guys looking at her when she’s mine.

I’d only feed her cum. Trust me, she wouldn’t go hungry.

You’re eyes are fully wide now. Are all these chats about you? What’s Katsuki doing in a place like this? Reading all these sick comments as if he isn’t your boyfriend.

“Hey!” A shout knocks you out of your trance—and startles you enough that it very nearly even knocked you off balance.

“What’re you doin’ on my computer?” he asks in accusation while taking hurried and thundering steps toward you—still wet from his shower, wearing nothing but a white towel around his lower half.

“Uh,” you struggle to find your voice, heart hammering in your chest, head spinning—feeling both caught red-handed and the exact opposite. “Uhm, nothing—I just—”

He rips the laptop off the desk, angry eyes staring at the screen—then quickly going round.

His face pales. You can practically see the goosebumps as they rise in a rush across his skin. 

He swallows thickly, jaw-locked—doesn’t even dare look at you as he asks the question, “Did you read?”

You almost consider saying no but decide against it. This wasn’t something you could just ignore. No, you needed an explanation. Who knows? It might be completely innocent.

“Some of it…” you confess.

He shudders, and then he places the laptop down again, slowly, soundless. He rests his hands on the table and leans his weight on them, head bowed, voice small.

“I just… I… It’s, well…” He scratches the back of his neck, looking for the words.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Katsuki is nervous. But you suppose it’s for good reason.

“It’s not what you think, okay?” he declares, finally looking at you. 

His face is something unfamiliar—riddled with this guilty anxiety you’ve never pictured before—frazzled. It’s completely odd.

“Okay,” you say calmly. You don’t know if you’re angry or not yet. You know you probably should be, but the look on the man’s face is making you feel sorry for him.

“I don’t agree with any of this,” he insists, gesturing to the laptop. 

“Well, yeah, I sure hope so,” you say, although the question still remains, “But why are you on there then?”

“It…” He’s blushing—profusely—bright vermillion-tipped ears and apple-red cheeks. He looks away again. “I don’t know…”

I don’t know is an excuse you’ve never heard come out of his mouth. In fact, excuse or not, it’s a phrase you didn’t think him capable of. But look at him now, using it the same childish way a kid would after being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You better not lie to me, Katsuki Bakugou—or I know someone who’s sleeping on the couch,” you finally find your strict tone. He’s crazy if he thinks this is something you’ll just forget about.

He sighs and then he falls into his desk chair, back hunched, hiding his face, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you close, nuzzling his head against you, mumbling under his breath, “It’s sick, and it makes me sick…”

You wait, giving him the time to figure it out.

“But it…” he continues. You feel his hands tremble just a bit before he confesses, “It makes me feel good.”

You’re not sure you understand, and so you ask for clarification, “What makes you feel good?”

He sighs again, and this time, his voice comes out dark and lusty, leaving no room for confusion, “To know that I have something everybody else wants.”

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist ♡ ALL masterlists

[heartsforjh]

I shall break my Quinn strike and ask for my favorite Hughes

Gimme Luke with “i thought you hated when people touch you?” he needs a black cat girlfriend for his golden retriever vibe😔🙏

this one was suspiciously easy for me to write so if it’s actually bad i’m VERY sorry… i knew something was up. 🙏

“Mom! Luke won’t stop making me upset!” your best friend, Jack, calls out.

“Luke, quit messing with your brother!” Ellen says, sorting through old family photos.

“I’m not messing with him! I’m messing with Y/n!” the younger boy whines.

“Your brother and his friend don’t want to play with you right now. You can play with Y/n when Jack has to go back to school,” Ellen explains.

“And he won’t stop touching her, Mom! He knows she doesn’t like it, but he keeps grabbing her hand and pulling her!” Jack continues to snitch.

“Alright, Jack. I’m handling it.”

“Okay, just making sure. Come on, Y/n. We don’t have to play with him,” Jack says, ushering you out of the living room. You feel bad, looking back at Luke as Jack pushes you out of the room without actually putting his hands on you. You give a little wave to Luke before disappearing from sight.

“Are you guys excited to start middle school?” Quinn, the oldest Hughes brother, asks as you and Luke sit at the dinner table.

“Well, I guess I am. I’m kind of nervous because I know it’ll be so different,” you admit before taking a bite of your food.

“It’s a good thing you have Luke! I’m glad the two of you get to start these milestones together!” the boys’ mom says.

“Yeah, Y/n! We have each other! It’s gonna be fun. We can sit next to each other at lunch and everything,” Luke says excitedly. He gets carried away while talking and starts messing with some strands of your hair, which Jack immediately notices.

Jack is quick to slap Luke’s hand away from your hair. “She doesn’t like you touching her! And she doesn’t need you. I already started middle school a year ago. I can tell her everything she needs to know.”

“Fine. I won’t touch her. It was an accident,” Luke says, feeling bad for forgetting again that people touching you makes you uncomfortable.

“How do you accidentally touch someone?! That doesn’t just happen! You—” Jack starts, only to be cut off by his dad stepping in with a stern, “Boys!”

It would be a lie to say that the rest of the dinner was ruined. This happens a lot, and everyone is used to it. Luke gets to talking, becomes excited, and, being a touchy person, accidentally does something to make Jack upset. It repeats like clockwork.

You got in. You really got in! The University of Michigan has accepted you as a student, and you couldn’t be happier. Of course, Luke is going too. You’re not mad about it at all. You expected it and, honestly, you’re glad. While you’re closest with Jack, having Luke complete all the same milestones with you has always been comforting.

You’re at the small party your family and the Hughes family put together to celebrate you and Luke. After finishing a conversation with one of their cousins, you head into the kitchen for a drink. Luke is already there at the counter, grabbing a drink for himself. When he turns around and sees you, he smiles.

“Hey!” he says, his eyes lighting up. You walk over to stand next to him and grab a cup.

“Hey. This is a cool party, right?” you ask, looking up at him and trying to make conversation.

He nods and grabs your favorite tea, pouring it into your cup for you. “Oh for sure. It’s great they did this for us. You ready to go to UMich?”

You smile a little nervously, looking at him. “I mean, I guess. I’m kind of nervous. You’re not?”

“No way! I’ve wanted to go to this school forever. So have you! You should be ecstatic. What’s the matter?” he asks, concerned.

“Well… y’know, it’s gonna be so different,” you confess, the nerves clear in your tone.

“It’s a good thing we’ll have each other, then. I’m not just gonna let you fall on your face, Y/n. I love you too much for that,” he says, his face full of emotion.

For the first time since the whole college mess, you feel relieved. “Really? Thanks, Lukey. I love you too.”

You close the space between the two of you and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your head on his chest. However, Luke freezes.

You frown a little and tilt your head to look up at him, your chin still resting on his chest. “Uh… Y/n? Is this, like… on purpose?” he asks, looking stressed.

You laugh, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought you hated when people touch you?” he says, his voice cracking slightly.

You think about it for a moment before responding. “I suppose I do. But not you.”

“Not me? I get yelled at every time I so much as look at you!” he says, surprised.

You pat his stomach and shake your head. “Lukey, that’s all Jack. Take it up with him. I like you… a lot. I always have.”

“You’ve liked me back this whole time and Jack’s ruined it?!” he asks, shocked.

You smile and nod. “Yeah! To be fair, I don’t think he knew. He just thought you were annoying me.”

“Whatever. He’s not here to ruin it now,” Luke says, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight.

In the next room, Ellen turns to her oldest son, beaming. “It worked!”

Quinn smiles. “I told you they’d figure it out, and all it took was distracting Jack a little.”

tags: @beenucks @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton @r0wdymaize86

join the taglist here! :)

[charmedimsure]

Your writing is just fucken scrumptious 🌟🌟 if you don't mind, Can you write about Thanos's reaction to a Nana osaki fem! Reader? (Like reader got her style, career, and personality) {plus points if reader is pierced, like Se-mi} You can make this into a one shot if you like ;))

i have beef with you, anon. i watched the first episode to try and get a better grasp on her personality and i got hooked. holy crap that anime is sad but so good. decided to add others cuz i fell in love with this character

SQUID GAME X NANA OSAKI! READER

including: thanos, nam-gyu, dae-ho, in-ho

warnings: squid game stuff, blood, violence

THANOS

Thanos is not completely sure how he got himself in this position.

He's laying on the floor, his throat being squeezed by player 001, who's fist is positioned to hit him again.

"I'm sorry," Thanos manages to get out with the bit of air he still has in his lungs. "Please. Please let me go."

Player 001 let's go and he rolls over, bringing his own hand to his throat as he tries to suck in deep breaths to get as much oxygen into his lungs as he can.

The players around them break out in applause, praising the man for beating up Thanos. As the man walks back into the crowd, the soft sound of laughter can be heard from behind Thanos.

The rapper turns, ready to tell off whoever it is that's laughing at him. His words die on his tongue when he sees the source of the laughter is you.

You're sitting on your bunk, head tilted back in laughter. Your hair falls to the side, exposing your piercings. And for the second time today, Thanos' breath is stolen from him.

The next day he approaches you right before the second game.

"Señorita, excuse me."

You turn, an amused smirk gracing your face as you recognize the boy speaking to you. "Oh, it's you. How's your throat?"

He knows you're making fun of him, but he can't help the small flutter in his heart because you remember him. "Let's play the game together."

You bring your hand up to support your chin, showing off your rings. "Yeah? Why should I?"

One of the players behind him gives you a dumbfounded look. "Don't you know who he is? He's Thanos the rapper."

You chuckle as he recites one of his lines. Truth is, you do know who this is. You and Thanos had played at a few of the same places. You doubted he could remember though. He was always high out of his mind.

The other player behind him puts a hand on his shoulder. You recognize him from one of the clubs you play at. Nam-gyu, if you're remembering correctly. "Hang on, a girl? We don't know what the game is."

Thanos pushes him away, his eyes still on you. "I'm gonna destroy anyone who gets in my way," he says, punching the air in front of him.

You let out a chuckle. "Whatever, man. Just don't get me killed."

NAM-GYU

"Two."

Nam-gyu turns to Thanos, ready to run into a room with him. It's the last round and they're definitely getting out of here alive.

Thanos shakes his head quickly, looking between the three of you before ultimately grabbing Min-su's hand, dragging the boy toward one of the rooms.

Nam-gyu just stands there, watching as the person he's looked up to since before they even ended up in this shithole chooses some kid over him.

"Come on!" you yell, grabbing Nam-gyu's wrist and pulling him along after you. He nearly falls over but stays on his feet, running after you to a pink door. Nam-gyu goes in first.

As you're entering the room, a man grabs you by the hair, yanking you backwards and out of the room. He takes a step forward before a foot makes contact with his crotch, causing the man to let out a yelp of pain. He falls to his knees, revealing you standing behind him.

You push him out of the doorway, coming in and closing the door just in time for it to lock.

Nam-gyu stands in the back of the room, massaging his wrist where you grabbed him.

You catch your breath, looking at the man in the room. "Sorry, did I hurt you?"

Nam-gyu scowls at you. "You could've broken my wrist, you bitch."

You scoff, putting your hands on your hips. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

Nam-gyu just glares at you.

"You've been rude to me since you met me for no damn reason. And now when your 'friend' chooses someone over you and I step in to save your fucking life, you're still finding things to complain about!" You huff. "Get over yourself."

You turn your back to him. Nam-gyu thinks about your words. You're right, he has been rude to you since you joined their team. He was really just jealous because Thanos was paying more attention to you than to him. And now you're the whole reason he's alive and all he had to say was "you could've broke my wrist".

You pace back and forth, trying to get over you anger without physically attacking the boy standing by the other wall. You hear him mumble, which gets your attention.

"What was that?"

He sighs. "I said thank you."

You just look at each other. You study his face, seeing a hint of remorse in his eyes. You nod, a silent 'you're welcome'.

"Let's just hope those two idiots made it to a room on time."

DAE-HO

Dae-ho looks through the crowd of people. He'd jumped at the chance to prove himself a useful team member and find a fifth person for the game, but now he's struggling to choose. Everyone is either already in a group or isn't the kind of person the others are expecting him to bring back.

"Hey," a voice says behind him.

Dae-ho whips his head around and his jaw practically falls to the floor when he sees you looking up at him. Your hands are shoved into your pockets, the expression on your pierced face calm despite the situation you're in. Dae-ho is sure he's never seen a girl who looks more intimidating than you. Or more beautiful.

"Do you have a team yet?" you ask.

Dae-ho just stands there, staring at you with his mouth still open, brain trying to comprehend the words you just said to him.

You furrow your brows. "You okay, dude?"

He snaps himself out of it, nodding. "Y-yeah, I'm... uh... I'm f-fine."

You smirk as he tumbles over his words, finding the man endearing. "So, do you have a team yet?"

He nods. "Uh, yeah, yeah I do have a team."

The smirk on your face drops. "Bummer." You take one of your hands out of your pocket, giving him a small wave as you take a step back. "Well, good luck."

"Wait!" Dae-ho yells louder than he meant to, gaining the attention of a few people around him. You look back at him, an eyebrow cocked. "We, uh, actually need one m-more person, if you want to join." He knows you're not the person they wanted Dae-ho to find, but he has a good feeling about you.

You smile at him and he swears this is heaven. "Yeah, that'd be great."

He leads you through the crowd towards his own team. Jung-bae is the first to notice him. "Dae-ho, did you find someone?"

Dae-ho nods shyly, stepping to the side to reveal you behind him.

Jung-bae's smile falters. "This is who you got?"

You look between both players. "Is this a problem?"

He puts a polite smile back on his face. "No, miss, not at all. We were just expecting him to bring back someone more..."

"Male?" you finish for him. You look at the other men in the group. "It seems like you have enough testosterone in this group already."

Player 001 steps toward you. "Are you confident you can win this game?"

You nod. "I don't plan on dying in this place."

He turns to the others. "Let's let her join."

Player 456 steps forward. "I agree."

You turn to Dae-ho, smiling and giving him a small thank you nod.

He smiles back, a blush coloring his cheeks as he kicks at the sand on the ground.

IN-HO

"I saw what you did, you sick fuck!" a voice shouts.

In-ho looks up from his coversation with Gi-hun, eyes immediately finding the purple haired player in the middle of the floor. Another player is standing behind him, chest puffed out.

A plastic spoon is thrown at the purple player's chest. In-ho looks across the room to see a girl marching toward him. You. Your fists are clenched and the look on your face could send fear into the hearts of anyone.

Player 230 chuckles. "Saw what, Señorita?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," you growl. "You pushed those people! You killed them!"

"They would've died anyway!"

"They could have made it!"

He laughs again. "Who cares, it's more money for us." The player behind him, 124, snickers.

You scoff. "Well, why don't I do us all a favor then and add another 100 million won to the pot?"

Player 230 laughs out loud, raising an eyebrow at you and stepping closer, "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna be able to do?"

Gasps come from everyone in the room as you lunge at him, knocking the both of you to the ground. Player 124 watches with an open mouth, too shocked to do anything.

Player 230 looks up at his friend. "Help me, you fucker!"

Player 124 nods and kicks you off of 230. You manage to get to your feet, throwing a punch at 124.

He stumbles back, touching his fingers to his nose and pulling them away to find blood. He grits his teeth at you. "You bitch!"

He swings at you, which you manage to dodge until the other player kicks you in the back of the knee, sending you to the ground. You kick his legs out from under him, getting on him to hit him again.

In-ho stands up, pushing past Jung-bae and Dae-ho to the center of the room. He pulls you off of player 230. You try to attack him again but In-ho has a tight hold on you, putting his body between you and the rapper.

"They're not worth it," he says to you. "Don't get yourself hurt over this."

You look at the rappers face, smirking when you see the imprint of your ring on his cheek. You throw the man's arms off of you, wiping the blood from your face with your sleeve as you walk back to the bunks, a few players on the sidelines clapping for you.

In-ho turns to face the boys. Player 124 is helping 230 off the ground, both bleeding. Scratch marks can be seen on 230's face from your nails. He's lucky you didn't claw one of his eyes out. He looks back at you, watching you sit down on your bed, holding your sleeve up to your split lip.

You're someone he's gonna keep his eye out for.

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[emsdevs]

I Think He Knows

a/n: This is in fact part two of The First Date Deal but this could easily be read as a stand alone! It's based off of "I Think He Knows" by Taylor Swift because Jack and Taylor go hand in hand in my head :) I hope you all enjoy!! 🩵

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Jack Hughes Masterlist

You almost hate to admit how well your relationship with Jack has been going. You’re still in the stage of getting to truly know one another and growing closer. Neither of you had said “I love you” yet, both of you silently worried it was still a little too soon to vocalize. However, that didn’t mean that neither of you felt it. If you were being honest, you’re pretty sure Jack can tell exactly how you feel about him, and you’re just as sure that he’s waiting for you to say something first because he’s cocky like that.

Jack, on the other hand, is doing exactly what you think he’s doing. You make it so easy for him to know how you feel about him, even though you think you’re not making it obvious. He wants you to say something first, so he can have the satisfaction of saying “I told you so.” He knew from the beginning how well the two of you would fit together. You were the one who needed convincing, so he’s gonna let you take the lead this time, no matter how long it takes.

He can tell every time you look at him. He sees the way you eye his hands around his glass when you two are at a bar celebrating a win. Your eyes tell him everything he needs to know, that although you two aren’t officially “together” yet, you want to know his body like it’s yours. It is. He is. You just don’t know it yet.

He sees it in the way you narrow your eyes at him when he gets sassy. You know it’s just a part of him, but he knows you want to see what’s under it. You want to get to know the real Jack Hughes, not just the parts he lets the media see on occasion. You want to know what he’s like when he’s soft and cuddly. You want to know what he’s like when he is frustrated and upset. You want to know every part of him, and he’s ready to let you in.

When you come over to his place, you make yourself at home, and it makes him want you to stay. He’d give anything to be with you 24/7, but that’s just not possible. It makes him realize he’s got to lock you down soon and ask you to be his girlfriend. Good ones like you don’t stick around to wait forever. He knows someone would sweep you off your feet if they got the chance. He just has to beat them to it, so he sets his plan in motion.

He had already texted you, making sure you were free to go out with him that night. He packed a bag full of snacks and grabbed some blankets, loading them into his car. It’s about 8:30 PM when he finally picks you up, and when he starts driving toward the woods, you have to remind yourself that Jack wouldn’t murder you, probably. Soon enough, he pulls his car into a parking lot for an overlook, and he drags you down the path leading to the overlook, refusing to let you carry any of the snacks or blankets. After the two of you get settled on the blanket, Jack pulls you into his side, ready to start the final stage of his master plan.

“So…” he starts, pausing until you respond.

“So what?” you giggle, having a feeling you might know where this is going.

“You got something you wanna tell me?” he’s cheeky when he says it, and it makes you want to deny everything.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” “Don’t lie to me. We’ve been in this weird talking stage for a few months now. If you say it, I’ll make this official. Right here. Right now.”

“Is this blackmail? This feels like blackmail.”

“Not blackmail. Just being honest. I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend either way. I’m just trying to be sure about how you feel before I do, so if you don’t say it now, it could be a while,” he shrugs as he talks.

Your heart feels like it’s skipping around inside of your body right now. The adrenaline rush Jack can give you is a drug you’re not sure you’ll ever get tired of. You sigh before telling him beginning to give in, “I don’t think I have to tell you. I think you know.”

“Well, obviously I know, but I still need to hear you say it, sweet girl.”

“Fine! Jack Hughes,” you pause for dramatic effect, “I’m falling in love with you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he drops a kiss on your cheek.

“So where are we gonna go from here?” you question with a bright smile on your face.

“Where are we gonna go?” he leans in, grabbing your waste, and just before he closes the gap, he whispers, “I think you know.”

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[lovelyjj]

Thinking about JJ and a girlfriend who’s a cute nerd like Pope and loves to read. He’s curious about why she loves those books so much and one day he asks her to read one to him. Then suddenly he’s hooked and he’s making little comments along the way like “I can’t believe this! The audacity!” 

jj maybank x bookworm!reader

**the book i used for this is Icebreaker by Hannah Grace**

feel free to send me any thoughts you have :)

It was no secret that you liked to read. You loved to read. Getting lost in a good book was one of your favorite things. Any chance you got you were reading. Now your boyfriend JJ, was curious to what the hype was all about. But he supported you no matter what.

You were at the château reading of course when JJ planted his head in your lap. You stole a glance away from your book and down at JJ who had a goofy grin on his face. You ran some fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp. JJ leaned into your touch.

“Watch’s reading about?” JJ asked.

“Oh the usual adventure magic romance stuff,” you said nonchalantly.

“Can- can you read it to me?” JJ spoke softly.

“I mean yeah sure,” you felt your heart swell that JJ wanted to know more about what you love.

“Do you want me to start at the beginning?” You asked.

“No no just read me where you’re at. I will figure it out,” JJ told you.

“Okay.”

“There is a real chance I could spontaneously burst into flames at any moment. Nate’s voice is barely above a whisper as he suggests testing his theory, but I feel every syllable all over my skin as goose bumps spread down my neck and across my chest. I have been betrayed by my body from the second he put his hands on both sides of my head and leaned in.” You read aloud.

“He’s barely touched me and yet I’m ready to melt into a puddle at his feet. I don’t know whether it’s the proximity, the sheer adrenaline, or the tequila, but every rational thought disappears, and I crush my mouth against his.” You continue.

“Oh my god,” JJ gasped. “This is so exciting!”

“Keep going,” JJ urged.

“He wastes no time sinking his hand into the hair at the nape of my neck, gripping tightly. His free hand slips around my body and palms my ass, making me moan into his mouth.

Nate is everywhere at once; all I can do is hold onto him and take it, and when his mouth travels down my neck, sucking and nipping, I’m practically panting.”

“I didn’t think this would happen when I followed him up here, I swear. He just looks so good in his tux and watching him nervously check the party is going well all night has been sort of endearing. And he’s hot as fuck, have I said that before? All dark hair, dark eyes, and muscles upon muscles, upon muscles.

He sinks to his knees in front of me, tugging at his bow tie and undoing the top button of his shirt. With messy hair from where I’ve held onto it and flushed cheeks, he looks up at me. His hands run from my ankle to my knee, then back down again, and yep, still close to melting territory. “You sure?”

“Do you have a pen and paper for me to draw you a map?”

I’m making jokes. Why am I making jokes? Why do I find how unimpressed with me he looks right now so funny? And hot?

“I don’t joke about consent, Anastasia,” he says softly, leaning forward to kiss the inside of my knee.”

“That’s funny cause that’s something I would say,” JJ chuckled.

“I’m sure.” I don’t know why I’m sure. I’m sure I shouldn’t be sure. I shouldn’t like how he looks hooking my leg over his shoulder. I’m definitely sure I shouldn’t be enjoying his tongue running up the inside of my thigh. 

He pulls the material of the dress to the side, and when I put on this dress earlier, this is not how I saw the evening turning out. I hear a groan of approval when his mouth gets closer to the apex of my thighs, and he realizes I’m not wearing any panties.”

“This story is wild, no wonder you like to read,” JJ smirked.

“How about we go recreate this scene?”

[nickgurl4life]

☆the next morning☆ (Matt Sturniolo)

The morning light spilled into the room, warm and golden, but you were already half-awake. The sound of soft, steady breathing beside you kept you still, your head nestled against Matt’s chest.

His arm was draped over you like it had been all night, holding you close even in his sleep. You smiled to yourself, soaking in the quiet moment. It was your first morning as his wife and the thought made your heart squeeze with joy.

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him, your eyes tracing the relaxed lines of his face. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up in all directions, and the faintest hint of stubble dusted his jaw.

You were content to just watch him until he stirred, his breathing hitching slightly before his eyes fluttered open. "Good morning, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly with sleep. He blinked down at you, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

“Good morning, husband,” you whispered back, your fingers lightly tracing over the faint scar on his forearm, a habit you’d picked up over the years. His grin widened as he tightened his hold on you, pulling you even closer. “Say that again.”

“Good morning, husband,” you said, laughing softly as his nose bumped yours. “No, not that,” he said, shaking his head and brushing his lips against your temple. “The husband part."

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled anyway. “Husband.” He hummed contentedly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I like the way that sounds coming from you, sugar.” You laughed, hiding your face in his chest to keep from squealing at the nickname.

“Are you going to be like this every morning?” “Every single one, sweetheart,” he said, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your back. “Hope you’re ready for it.”

“I think I can handle it,” you teased, peeking up at him. “As long as you’re ready for me calling you embarrassing nicknames, too.” “Oh, yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’ve you got for me, Mrs. Sturniolo?”

You grinned, tilting your head as if deep in thought. “Hmm… honeybun? Snugglebug? Love muffin?” Matt groaned, flopping onto his back dramatically and dragging you with him. “Nope, absolutely not. Love muffin is where I draw the line.”

You burst out laughing, leaning over him and propping yourself up on your elbow. “Too late, love muffin. It’s official now.” He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as his smile softened. “You can call me whatever you want, sugar. Just as long as I get to keep you.”

Your teasing faded as his words hit you square in the chest. Leaning down, you kissed him softly, his hand sliding to the small of your back to keep you close. When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, filled with something so tender it almost made you tear up. “I love you."

He said simply, the words so familiar yet so much weightier now. “I love you too,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his. For a while, you just stayed like that, tangled up in each other, exchanging soft kisses and quiet promises for the future.

Eventually, Matt’s stomach growled loudly, breaking the moment and making you both laugh. “Looks like someone’s hungry,” you teased, poking his side. “I worked up an appetite,” he said with a smirk. “Getting married is hard work, you know.”

"Yeah, I’m sure dancing for three hours straight and shoveling cake in your mouth took a lot out of you,” you replied, sitting up and stretching. “Don’t mock me, sugar” he said, sitting up and catching your hand to pull you back down onto his lap. “I worked hard to make yesterday perfect.”

"It was perfect,” you said softly, cupping his cheek. “You were perfect.” “Damn right, I was,” he teased, leaning in to nuzzle your neck. “And you, sugar, were the most stunning bride I’ve ever seen.”

You giggled as his scruffy face tickled your skin. “You’re biased.” "Completely,” he admitted, his lips brushing against your shoulder before he pulled back. “But I’m also right. Now, what do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? Waffles? Eggs? I’ll make whatever you want.”

“You?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Cooking?” “Hey!” he said, feigning offense. “I make a mean scrambled egg.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Fine. Surprise me, love muffin.”

He groaned but kissed your cheek anyway before rolling out of bed and grabbing the first t-shirt he could find. As he padded toward the kitchen, you sat back against the pillows, watching him with a soft smile.

Your forever had officially begun, and you couldn’t wait to spend every morning exactly like this—wrapped in love, laughter, and maybe just a little bit of teasing.

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

[echo-riot]

your blog is great! you're doing an amazing job putting out so many fics a day! don't forget to take a break if you need to.

i read your fic with abby and a shy/timid reader and it got me thinking. if you're not swamped with requests, do you mind writing abby with a calm reader. someone who is a bit unlike her in that they're never reckless, never yell, and always patient and understanding with everyone.

thank you for all that you do.

✞⛧Patience (Abby x patient reader)✞⛧

Warnings: Post-apocalyptic setting (themes of survival, danger, and tension), Mild violence (brief mention of a confrontation with infected), Fluffy moments

Words: 3.2k

The settlement bustled with life, its narrow pathways crowded with people moving purposefully. Makeshift homes, crafted from scrap metal and salvaged wood, lined the streets. The air smelled faintly of smoke from the communal fire pits, mingling with the earthy scent of freshly dug soil from the small garden plots scattered around. Abby Anderson walked through the settlement with her usual commanding stride, her broad shoulders cutting an imposing figure among the sea of worn and tired faces. She was used to the looks people gave her—half wary, half admiring. She didn’t care either way; she had a job to do.

Abby was on her way back from an early-morning patrol, her boots caked with mud and dust, when she heard the commotion near the ration station. It wasn’t uncommon for tempers to flare there—supplies were always tight, and people were always on edge—but this particular argument caught her attention.

Chris, a wiry man in his late thirties with a scruffy beard and a permanent scowl, was shouting at the top of his lungs. His voice carried through the settlement, sharp and accusatory. “This is bullshit! How am I supposed to feed my family with this? You expect us to survive on scraps?”

Abby frowned, her hand instinctively resting on the strap of her rifle slung over her shoulder. She was ready to step in and shut Chris down if he got any louder or, worse, physical. But then she noticed you standing in front of him, unarmed and unshaken, the polar opposite of his fury.

You had an air of calm about you that Abby had always found intriguing. You weren’t like most people in the settlement—no frantic gestures, no panicked outbursts. Instead, you stood with a relaxed posture, your hands loosely clasped in front of you. Your voice, soft but steady, barely rose above the din, yet it somehow commanded attention.

“Chris,” you said gently, your tone free of judgment. “I understand you’re frustrated. It’s not easy right now, and it’s not fair. But getting angry at me isn’t going to make the rations grow. Let’s talk about this, okay?”

Chris sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Talk about it? You think talking’s gonna put more food on the table?”

You didn’t flinch or snap back. Instead, you offered him a small, disarming smile. “No, it won’t. But we can figure something out. Maybe there’s a way to redistribute a little extra to your family without taking too much from others. I’m sure the council will hear you out if we bring it up calmly. What do you think?”

Abby watched, fascinated, as Chris’s aggressive posture faltered. His scowl didn’t entirely disappear, but his shoulders slumped slightly, and his voice lost some of its edge. “Fine. Whatever. You better do something about it.”

You nodded, still smiling that maddeningly serene smile. “I’ll bring it up at the next meeting. In the meantime, why don’t you take a breath? Go check on your family. I’ll be here if you need to talk more.”

Chris grumbled something under his breath but ultimately turned and stalked off, leaving you standing there in the now-quiet street. Abby shook her head in disbelief.

You dusted your hands off on your jeans and turned, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you’d just de-escalated a situation that could have easily turned ugly. When you caught sight of Abby standing a few feet away, you offered her a casual wave, as if what you’d just done was the most natural thing in the world.

“Morning, Abs,” you said warmly, your voice carrying just enough to reach her.

Abby approached you, her brows furrowed. “What the hell was that?” she asked bluntly, though there was no malice in her tone.

You tilted your head, clearly amused by her reaction. “That? Just a chat.”

“A chat?” Abby crossed her arms, her muscles flexing under her tank top. “The guy was screaming at you, and you just stood there like it was nothing.”

You shrugged. “He’s scared. People act out when they’re scared. No point in getting angry back.”

Abby’s frown deepened. “Most people would’ve told him to shut up or reported him to the guards.”

“Most people would’ve made it worse,” you countered gently. Then, with a playful glint in your eye, you added, “Anger’s exhausting, don’t you think?”

Abby snorted despite herself, a rare smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said with a grin, brushing past her with an easy wave.

Abby stood there for a moment, watching you walk away. She’d seen you around the settlement plenty of times, always helping where you could, always calm and collected no matter the situation. It was a stark contrast to her own approach to problems, which often involved force, efficiency, and little patience for nonsense.

She admired your calmness, though she’d never admit it out loud. It was a kind of strength she didn’t understand—a quiet, unshakable resilience that seemed almost unearthly in a world as broken as theirs.

——-

The forest is eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves underfoot and the distant caw of a crow. The air is damp, heavy with the scent of moss and decaying wood. You adjust the strap of your backpack, its weight pressing against your shoulders as you scan the overgrown path ahead. The sun barely filters through the dense canopy, casting everything in muted shades of green and brown. Beside you, Abby moves like a shadow, her steps deliberate and silent. She’s a towering presence, her muscular frame seeming almost out of place in the fragile stillness of the world around you.

You feel a sense of calm wash over you just by having her close—her steady presence next to you, even in the middle of all this chaos. The quiet moments like this are few and far between, but you cherish them.

Behind you, Ella stumbles over a root, muttering an apology under her breath. Her hands tremble as she grips the shotgun slung across her chest. She’s young—barely out of her teens, by the look of her—and she hasn’t yet mastered the art of hiding her fear.

“Keep up,” Abby says, her voice sharp but with a softness that only you would catch. She doesn’t turn around, but her tone leaves no room for argument.

“Sorry,” Ella mumbles, quickening her pace.

You glance back at the girl, offering her a small smile. “You’re doing fine,” you say softly, hoping to soothe the nervous energy radiating off her. Ella meets your eyes briefly before looking away, her cheeks flushing.

Abby snorts quietly, shaking her head. You don’t have to see her face to know she’s annoyed. She’d argued against bringing Ella in the first place, but resources were scarce, and new recruits had to learn sometime. Still, it’s clear that Abby regrets her decision.

But you know Abby. You know she’s always got your back, even when she’s frustrated. You brush the thought aside and focus on the path ahead.

The three of you push forward, the undergrowth thickening as the trail narrows. Abby leads the way, her broad shoulders cutting through the foliage like a battering ram. She carries herself with the confidence of someone who’s been through this a hundred times before, her movements precise and efficient. And yet, every now and then, her hand brushes against your arm as if to reassure herself you’re there.

Ella, on the other hand, is the opposite. Her breathing is too loud, her footsteps clumsy. She flinches at every snap of a twig, her eyes darting nervously from shadow to shadow.

“Stop,” Abby says suddenly, holding up a hand. You freeze, your fingers instinctively brushing the handle of the knife at your hip.

Ahead, a Runner shambles through the trees, its head twitching erratically. The creature is emaciated, its skin stretched tight over its bones, patches of fungus sprouting from its neck and arms. It hasn’t noticed you yet, but its jerky movements make it clear that it’s on edge.

Abby motions for you and Ella to stay put as she creeps forward, her rifle at the ready. You watch her, your heart pounding—not from fear, but from the sheer intensity she exudes. She’s so focused, so unshakable, that it’s easy to forget how vulnerable all of you really are. Your breath steadies as you lock eyes with her for a moment, silently communicating more than words ever could.

Then Ella lets out a soft gasp.

The Runner’s head snaps toward your group, its hollow eyes locking onto the sound. It lets out a guttural snarl, its body tensing as it prepares to charge.

“Shit,” Abby hisses, raising her rifle.

“Ella, get behind me,” you say quickly, stepping in front of her. She doesn’t move, her feet rooted to the ground as panic overtakes her.

“Move!” Abby barks, her voice harsh.

Ella freezes completely, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. The Runner lunges, but Abby fires before it can reach you, the shot echoing through the forest. The creature collapses in a heap, twitching once before going still.

Abby lowers her rifle, her jaw tight with frustration. “What the hell was that?” she snaps, glaring at Ella. “You can’t just stand there like that. You could’ve gotten us killed.”

Ella stammers, her face pale. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it out here,” Abby interrupts, her voice like steel. “If you can’t handle this, you shouldn’t have come.”

“Abby,” you say gently, stepping between them. You meet her icy blue gaze, holding it until some of the tension leaves her shoulders. Then you turn to Ella, your expression softening. “Hey,” you say quietly, placing a hand on her arm. “Take a breath. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Ella blinks at you, her eyes wide and glassy. “I—I just froze. I didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure her. “It happens to everyone their first time. But next time, remember this: if you’re scared, focus on one thing. Just one. It could be taking a step back, or getting behind cover, or even just breathing. One step at a time, okay?”

Ella nods hesitantly, her breathing starting to slow. “Okay,” she whispers.

“You’ve got this,” you say with a small smile. “We’re all scared out here. The trick is not letting it stop you.”

Abby watches the exchange in silence, her jaw working as if she wants to say something but doesn’t know how. When Ella finally steadies herself and nods, you step back, giving her space.

Abby walks up to you then, her fingers brushing against yours in a rare moment of tenderness. Her expression softens for a moment, and when she speaks, there’s a quiet affection in her voice. “Let’s keep moving.”

The rest of the mission passes without incident, though the tension lingers in the air like a storm cloud. Ella stays close to you, her grip on her shotgun less shaky than before. Abby keeps to the front, her movements sharper than usual, as if she’s trying to work off her frustration.

By the time you make it back to camp, the sun is dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The settlement is a welcome sight, its walls a comforting reminder that, for now, you’re safe.

As you help Ella unload the supplies, Abby approaches you, her expression unreadable. She hesitates for a moment, her eyes flicking to Ella before settling on you.

“Thanks,” she mutters, almost too quietly to hear.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. “For what?”

“For keeping it together out there,” she says, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I’m not good at… that kind of thing. Talking people down.”

You smile, leaning against the stack of crates. “Everyone’s got their strengths, Abby. You’re good at keeping us alive. That’s what matters.”

She huffs out a breath, her lips twitching in what might be the beginnings of a smile. “Still. I don’t think I could’ve handled her the way you did.”

“We all start somewhere,” you say, glancing over at Ella, who’s busy organizing the supplies with renewed focus. “Fear’s normal. It’s how we grow from it that counts.”

Abby nods, her blue eyes softening as she looks at you. For a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from her shoulders, replaced by something quieter, something almost hopeful. She steps closer, letting her hand linger on your arm for a beat longer than necessary.

“Yeah,” she says, her voice low. “Maybe you’re right.”

And for just a moment, the chaos of the world feels far away, with only the quiet hum of her presence beside you.

—-

The night is quiet, save for the occasional groan of the old building settling under its own weight. Moonlight spills through a broken window, its silver glow painting the abandoned room in soft hues. The air smells of dust and mildew, the remnants of what this place once was long forgotten. Your group has hunkered down for the night after a long day, the tension of the mission still lingering in the air. Ella is asleep in the corner, her figure barely visible beneath a tattered blanket. The sound of her soft breathing is the only sign of peace in the otherwise somber atmosphere.

You shift slightly, nestled in the sleeping bag you share with Abby. Her arms are wrapped tightly around you, her hold protective, almost possessive. The solid warmth of her body against your back is a stark contrast to the chill of the night air. You can feel the steady rise and fall of her chest, the rhythm soothing in its constancy. She hasn’t said much since the mission, her usual stoic silence now tinged with an edge of thoughtfulness.

For a while, you both simply lie there, the world outside forgotten. Then, in the stillness, her voice breaks the quiet, low and uncharacteristically soft.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she murmurs, the words brushing against your ear like a whisper.

You blink, turning your head slightly to glance at her. “Do what?”

Abby exhales, her breath warm against the back of your neck. “The patience. With Chris earlier. With Ella. Hell, even with me sometimes.” She pauses, her grip on you tightening just a fraction. “I could never be like that.”

You shift in her arms, turning so you’re facing her. The faint moonlight illuminates her features—her strong jawline, the freckles scattered across her nose, and the vulnerability in her eyes that she rarely lets show. Reaching up, you brush a strand of her blonde hair away from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear.

“You don’t have to be like me,” you say softly, your voice steady and calm, the way it always is. “I’m not you, either. We balance each other out.”

Her eyes search yours, as if looking for reassurance, for a truth she can hold onto. “But it’s not just that,” she says after a moment. “I admire it, you know? The way you make everything seem… manageable. Even when it feels like everything’s falling apart.”

Her admission catches you off guard, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you smile, your thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you tell her, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the strongest person I know—just in a different way.”

Abby’s gaze drops, her jaw tightening as she swallows hard. “I don’t feel strong,” she says, the words heavy with self-doubt. “Most of the time, I just feel… tired. Like I’m barely keeping it together.”

Your heart aches at her confession, at the weight she carries on her shoulders every single day. You lean in, pressing a light kiss to her temple, your lips lingering for a moment. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know,” you say as you pull back, your hand coming to rest on her chest, just above her heart. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Her hand covers yours, her calloused fingers rough against your skin but grounding in their warmth. She looks at you then, really looks at you, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face.

“I don’t say it enough,” she begins, her voice thick with emotion, “but I… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smile again, a small, genuine curve of your lips that seems to soften the tension in her expression. “Good thing you don’t have to find out,” you tease lightly, your tone warm.

Abby huffs out a breath that’s almost a laugh, the sound easing some of the heaviness between you. She pulls you closer, her arms enveloping you in a way that makes you feel like nothing in the world could touch you as long as she’s holding you.

For a while, neither of you speak. The silence isn’t uncomfortable—it’s filled with the unspoken understanding that comes with being close to someone who knows you better than anyone else. You rest your head against her chest, listening to the steady thrum of her heartbeat.

When she speaks again, her voice is quieter, almost hesitant. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before,” she admits. “Like… like I don’t have to be the strong one all the time.”

You tilt your head up to look at her, your expression soft. “You don’t,” you say simply.

Her eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long while, you see something other than the hardened resolve she wears like armor. You see vulnerability, trust, and a flicker of something that looks a lot like hope.

Abby lets out a slow breath, her chest rising and falling beneath your head. “You make it feel… okay,” she says, her voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper. “Even when everything else feels impossible.”

Your fingers trace small, absent patterns along her arm, the motion soothing. “That’s what love does,” you reply, the words as natural as breathing. “It makes the impossible seem a little less daunting.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, but the way her arms tighten around you speaks volumes. For Abby, words have always been difficult, but her actions—the way she holds you like you’re the most important thing in the world—are enough.

The two of you lie there for a while longer, the sounds of the night fading into the background. You can feel her breathing slow, her body relaxing against yours as the weight of the day finally begins to lift.

Just before sleep claims you, Abby murmurs one last thing, her voice so soft you almost miss it. “Thank you… for being you.”

A smile tugs at your lips as you press a final kiss to her jaw, your eyes drifting shut. “Always,” you whisper.

And as the night stretches on, Abby holds you close, her usually restless mind quiet for once. In your steady presence, she finds a peace she never thought she’d deserve—a peace that feels almost as strong as the love she’s too afraid to put into words. For now, it’s enough.

[rejectedbytheempty]

from the dirt we rise, ch. 3

pairing: farmer!john price x reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2.2k

cw: misogynistic language

synopsis: when your car breaks down in the middle of the english countryside, a tall, dark stranger comes to your rescue

masterlist

when you got upstairs soap had already set your bags in a spare room, though you noticed that they hadn’t been snooped in, probably ghost’s doing.

nathan was sitting on the bed huffing loudly, having thrown his luggage on the floor in exhaustion after going up the stairs. he didn’t say anything, just gave you a glaring side eye and went back to his huffing and puffing. the room was.. nice? like genuinely nice.

it seriously could be a picture on some teenage girl’s cottage core bedroom inspo pinterest board. which is not something you thought you’d ever say about an adult man’s decorating style. he had delicate flower print bedsheet, sheer curtains with lace trim, an antique dresser, and cream colored wallpaper.

“this room is nice, isn’t it?” you asked, breaking the silence.

nathan just glanced at you, “it’s creepy. and this bed is too hard.” you just rolled your eyes when he turned back to go through his luggage to grab his phone.

“right, well, i’m going to head downstairs, help them get dinner ready. you can stay up here, if you want.”

nathan just grumbled an affirmative, his eyes glued to his screen. you made your way down the creaking stairs, now quite sure that you

couldn’t get a drink of water in the middle of the night without alerting the whole house.

“how’s the room for you? need anything?” john asked, hearing you coming around the bend to the kitchen.

“it’s beautiful, actually,” you said, a grin on your face.

soap laughed, “didnae peg the big guy to be an interior decorator then?”

you shook your head, “no, actually, i didn’t.”

john just waved johnny off, “i’m not an interior decorator, i just had some stuff laying around the house, you know?” when he turned around to grab a towel off the counter, johnny gave you a pointed look as if to signal that he was only telling a half-truth.

you giggled slightly, then muffled it behind your hand when john turned back around. he eyed both of you apprehensively but returned to the stove.

“what are we making for dinner?” you asked.

“i was thinking potato soup, if that’s alright with you?” john asked, pulling a sack of potatoes from beside the door and hefting them onto the counter.

“is there anything i can do to help?” you asked.

“och, no, cannae make a lady such as yerself get her hands dirty” soap said, making you laugh again, blushing slightly.

“you can help peel the potatoes?” john offered. you nodded, taking a knife from him, then picking up a potato, you started peeling along with price and soap.

“where’s simon, by the way?” you asked, suddenly wondering where the masked behemoth of a man had gone. it’s strange how well he was able to disappear since he was such a big man, seems like it’d be the opposite. though, you suppose, that was his job for however many years, hard to break the habit of being stealthy.

“he’s checking on the animals for me” john answered. he and johnny were going noticeably faster than you, and you tried to pick up the pace.

“animals? you mean you have some here at the farm?” you asked. “some chickens, a few pigs, and a couple cows”

he answered, “if you’d like, i can show you around tomorrow morning?”

“that’d be wonderful! tha- shit!” you cried out as your knife slipped and you sliced deep into your hand.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, i’m so sorry” you said, cradling your hand to your stomach, watching helplessly as blood rushed to the surface of the cut.

“hey, hey, it’s okay, you don’t have anything to be sorry for” john said, rushing to your side with a towel, taking your hand in his and pressing the towel onto your hurt hand.

“i’m gonna get the first aid kit” johnny said hurriedly as he rushed off into the other room.

the room spun slightly, and you wobbled into john while trying to keep yourself steady, “sorry” you muttered.

“it’s okay, stop apologizing” he said gruffly, leading you to the couch. you sat down and he maneuvered your other hand on top of where his was a second ago, “keep pressure on this, alright?” you just nodded, deciding to focus on holding the towel rather than the faint ringing in your ears. you closed your eyes, willing the nausea to go away.

after a while of keeping pressure on your wound, john found it okay to take it off as the bleeding had ceased. johnny brought over the kit, which was a metal box with a red cross symbol on it, and a bottle of whisky.

you furrowed your eyebrows, “what’s that for? cleaning the wound?”

johnny laughed and shook his head, “it’s for yer courage, lass, dinnae wanna waste a good whisky on yer hand.”

he fished a bottle of hydrogen peroxide out of the metal box and showed it to you, “this is for cleaning the wound, aye?”

you just looked to john who nodded, “he’s right. the cut is big enough that we’ll probably have to stitch it up, and i find that it’s better when your senses are a bit dulled.”

he grabbed a shot glass from the cabinet and walked back over to pour the whisky. he offered it to you, “i’m not gonna force you to take it, but i think it might do you some good.”

you hesitated for a moment and then grabbed the drink from him. you paused for a moment and then threw it back, the alcohol hitting the back of your throat. you coughed at the sensation, making both men laugh.

“good, ain’t it?” johnny said with a toothy grin.

you grimaced but nodded, “strong” was all you could get out.

“now’s the hard part, you just tell me if you need to take a break, okay?” john said, sinking to your level, his dark brown eyes had softened as they looked in yours.

you swallowed thickly but nodded, “yes, sir.” he smiled softly and started opening the bottle of peroxide.

“ye want to hold onto my hand, bonnie?” you looked to johnny, who had sat beside you on the couch with an outstretched hand. wordlessly, you took his hand with your unharmed one and squeezed it appreciatively.

soap maybe regretted his offer after john poured the peroxide onto your hand, finding the tips of his fingers had gone bloodless from you squeezing the life out of him. he seemed to be having a worse time of it than you, he was barely holding back numerous curse words from spilling out.

“see? all done” john said as he gently dabbed at the wound. you nodded weakly.

“you’re doing so good,” he said in a softer voice, brushing your hair behind your ear. it was actually embarrassing how quickly that made you flush. “stitches next, alright? you need to take a break or anything?” he asked. he looked so earnest, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time nathan had ever looked at you like that, maybe never.

“i.. i’m fine, you can keep going, thank you” you said, hurriedly.

he nodded and got to work, moving quickly with the needle like he had done this many times before. he probably had, now that you were thinking about it, ended up in some desolate place with just the stuff on his back and some kind of bullet wound. and here you were, complaining and whining about getting stitches in a nice, warm house after you accidentally cut yourself while peeling potatoes. “sorry, i didn’t mean to make this into such a big deal,” you said as he finished.

the scot breathed a sigh of relief when you let go of his hand, shaking it about to get the blood flowing again. “och, nonsense lass, nothing to be sorry for. it was a nasty cut, think that any one of us might’ve reacted worse than you, aye?” johnny comforted you.

“johnny’s right, no sense in apologizing for things you ought not be sorry for.”

“so-“ you stopped yourself before you apologized again.

“alright, thank you, then.” both men’s faces brightened.

“ah, anytime, bonnie.”

“of course.”

after john finished wrapping it in gauze you heard the creak of the stairs. you looked over to see nathan coming down the steps, seeming like he had gotten over his temper tantrum. his eyebrows furrowed when he looked over at you three,

“what the hell happened?”

“i.. cut myself when i was peeling potatoes.”

“god, well, here, let me see” he said, walking up to you and grabbing your injured hand. he twisted it back and forth sharply trying to see the injury through the gauze, making you cry out in pain. “hey! be gentle with her, i don’t want you to rip her stitches.” john said, quickly rising to his feet.

“i was just trying to look at it, i didn’t hurt you, right baby?” nathan asked you. you looked between the two men and could only stammer out an incomprehensible response.

“speak up” nathan said.

john stepped closer to him, “don’t talk to her like that.”

johnny quickly stepped between the two, sensing that this argument was going to just get worse and end with someone in the hospital. “let’s just calm down, don’t wanna do anything we’ll regret, aye?” he looked pointedly at nathan.

just that moment, simon walked in the door, peeling off his muddy boots before he looked over at the spectacle in the living room.

“what the hell is going on here?” he asked, immediately straightening up, his eyes narrowing. if nathan thought that he could maybe take on john, or johnny, he was sure he couldn’t take on simon, so he withered under simon’s unabashed glare.

“it was just a misunderstanding” johnny explained, which nathan nodded along vigorously to. seeming satisfied, simon just huffed and continued stripping off his muddied outerwear.

ghost, soap, and john all finished peeling the potatoes, though they made you swear you’d never go near a knife again. something that you agreed to readily, you needed a break from sharp things, for at least a little while.

you couldn’t imagine how things would have gone if you were by yourself when it happened. or even if nathan was there, he didn’t seem much help and he even ended up gripping your hand a bit too hard later, something that got another silencing glare from simon.

once john had finished the soup, he ladled it out into bowls and set them onto the delicately decorated table. you bit back another comment on him being an interior decorator, guessing he had been teased enough by johnny and simon.

“it looks delicious, thank you” you said, picking up your spoon.

“i wouldn’t thank me until you’ve tried it” he said, taking his place at the table.

“dinnae be putting yerself down cap’n, besides, not easy to mess up this soup.”

“well, soap, i’m sure price can do anything he puts his mind to” ghost said, his eyes crinkling with a smile, he had taken his mask off to eat, revealing a face that was ruggedly handsome, especially because it was covered in scars, a particularly large one slashed through his lips.

john just shook his head at them and started eating, you followed suit. it was delicious, almost worth stabbing your hand for, really.

nathan hardly touched the stuff, however, claiming that he wanted to stay in shape, and nothing so fattening as potatoes and cheese. he gave you a pointed look as you finished your bowl, making the food settle like a stone at the bottom of your stomach.

john stood up from the table suddenly, the chair scraping on the floor harshly, “alright, that’s enough of that. i’ve tolerated your comments and actions long enough but that’s the final fucking straw. you’re in my house now, and in my house we are kind and respectful to women,” john said, pointing an accusatory finger at nathan, whose face turned a bright shade of red.

“i don’t care if it’s your fucking house, that’s my fucking girl that you’ve been basically flirting with all day, and you know what? i’m done with it. i’m done with it all. i won’t take this disrespect anymore. get up, we’re leaving. i’ll call my dad to come pick us up,” nathan said, pulling up at your arm.

you stayed put, looking around the table, simon raised his eyebrows to you, as if silently asking for the signal to take care of him. you looked from nathan’s angry face to john’s stern expression back to simon and shook your head.

standing up, you turned to nathan, who looked mildly relieved that you had listened to him. “nathan, i have something to tell you.”

he rolled his eyes, exasperated, “can it wait?”

you forced down a scream, “no, it can’t.”

he sighed, “okay, spit it out then.”

“i’m breaking up with you.”

a/n: i honestly hc that john watches hgtv or some variation bc one time it was the only thing palatable on tv. he denies ever watching anything of the sort but best believe he can outdo martha stewart.

taglist:

@readgoods

@rip-cod-brainrot

@anticipayosbot

@cyaniderainfall

@theclassicvinyldragon

[isthattyra]

Sweet Beginnings

terry richmond x black reader

“I’m just saying, why should I have to go to the gym when I can get my workout done here?” you say, flexing dramatically as you scooped dough onto a baking sheet. The smell of vanilla and brown sugar filled the cozy kitchen, making your argument even sweeter.

Terry leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest, his lips twitching into a grin. “Baby, I’m inviting you to the gym, not drafting you into a strongman competition. Besides I never said you had to work out. I just want to see your pretty face, it gives me motivation”

You smirked, not missing a beat. “I can do arm curls here. You see me scooping this dough, don’t you? And kneading earlier? That’s a full upper body workout.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And cardio?”

“Mixing counts. Ever tried to beat butter and sugar by hand? That’s endurance right there. And don’t you think we get enough cardio done together?” You said recalling the last few nights spent with Terry that had you sweating and out of breath like you’d just run a marathon. 

“ I guess you got me on that but I didn’t hear any complaints from that so called workout” he said shutting you right on up.

“Besides, this dough won’t scoop itself. Speaking of which…” you motioned to the oatmeal cookies on a baking sheet. “You’d never have gotten these if I hadn’t saved you at the store.”

“Saved me? That’s a stretch.”

“Oh, come on! You were ready to give up eating plain old oatmeal like the old man you are for the week until I swooped in.”

Flashback

Your banter had started over a year ago, on the day you met. You had just started selling your baked goods to people besides your family. It was the week before you planned to work the weekend farmers market and you were trying to make sure you had all your ingredients ready.

It had been an ordinary afternoon at the grocery store, you had been searching for a bulk container of oatmeal for your iced oatmeal cookie recipe which was one of your best sellers. Finally coming across in it the aisle, seeing only one container. Barely paying attention as you scrolled on your phone, you reached for it at the exact same moment a large, calloused hand did.

“Oh!” you said, startled, looking up. The hand belonged to a tall, fit man with warm greyish blue/green eyes and a teasing smile. He pulled back slightly, letting you take the container.

“Go ahead,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m not about to fight you for oatmeal.”

“That’s very gentlemanly of you,” you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment. “But are you sure? It looked like you needed it too.” 

His dedication to maintaining his beautiful body had been evident in his cart full of proteins and veggies.

He large shoulders shrugged. “It’s for my meal prep. But I’ll survive.” He paused, then added with a sly grin, “If you promise me a batch of whatever you’re making and your name,I’ll consider it even.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you tell him your name “Brown butter iced oatmeal cookies. And… deal.” Not wanting to have to deliver to a random stranger, no matter how fine he was, you suggested he meet you at the local farmers market that weekend. 

“Here’s my card in case you can’t make it, you can send me an email to place an order”

Not only did he show up, he was there before you were. Even going so far as to help you unload your car and set up your tables and tent. It was nice to have someone to help since your best friend had bailed on you last minute. Bonus that the help was so nice to look at. You’d never been so jealous of a table, watching as he lifted it so easily onto his back not straining even once.

Terry stayed at your table until everything sold out, helping you to pack everything up too. He was only able to buy one oatmeal cookie even though you tried to argue that he didn’t need to pay.

“Now I feel like I owe you again, I appreciate all your help today and for taking up so much of your time” you stated feeling bad. All this man wanted was some oatmeal and now he’s been put to work

“It’s no problem at all, I enjoyed the cookies and I learned a lot about the baking business too” he said smiling showing all 32 of his pearly whites

“Well before you go I have something for you” reaching in the front seat of your car grabbing the specially wrapped box. “ I knew the cookies would sell fast so I made sure to put a batch aside for you, after all that was the deal”. the smirk growing on your face 

His smirk matching yours “It definitely was. Thank you, I’ll try not to eat them all in one siting” 

“Good luck with that,” you said. “They’re addictive.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He leaned back slightly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. “You know, I think I got the better end of this deal. A whole batch of cookies, and nice morning spent with beautiful company”

You could help to laugh, shaking your head. “Well, now you’re just showing off your charm, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said, his grin widening. “But it’s working, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. “Drive safe, Terry. And maybe I can get you to try one of my other cookies next time you’re here.”

“Next time, huh?” He opened his truck door but paused, his eyes locking with yours . “I like the sound of that.”

With that, he climbed into the truck , leaving you standing there with a smile you couldn’t seem to shake.

True to his word, Terry showed up at the next farmers market. And the one after that. By the third week, it wasn’t just a casual visit—he was there early, carrying boxes, helping set up your booth, and sticking around to take it all down at the end of the day.

“You know,” you said one morning as you unloaded your car together, “I didn’t realize free cookies came with a labor contract.”

Terry chuckled, setting down a tablecloth. “I think I got the better end of the deal. The cookies are a bonus. You, though? You’re worth showing up for.”

You couldn’t help but to feel butterflies flutter in your stomach and somewhere else, but you just  rolled your eyes to play it off. “Flattery will only get you more cookies, you know.” He didn’t have to know you also meant another set of cookies. 

“Good,” he said, his grin crooked and confident. “I’ll take them.”

By the fifth farmers market, his presence had become so natural that when he wasn’t there for a moment—late grabbing tea for you both—you realized how much you’d come to expect him by your side.

That day, while packing up the last of your supplies, you worked up the courage to ask. “So… I was thinking. Since you’re already giving up your Saturdays to help me here, maybe I could steal another evening from you?”

Terry straightened, his eyes bright with interest. “Are you asking me out, Y/N?”

“Maybe I am,” you said, smiling as you shut the trunk. “Dinner this Friday?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his grin matching yours. 

Flashback end

Now, a year and a new bakery storefront later, you were finishing up making a batch of your still best seller. Now renamed The Terry, you had to make double sometimes triple and would still sell out fast. 

Terry still helping out but now in the shop, had seen you struggle a little to lift the big bag of flour and had suggested showing you some arm strengthening workouts.

“Well if someone didn’t have my arms in a position they’re not usually in I would have been fine lifting the flour. Besides not everyone has the strength to be out here lifting tree logs.”

Terry laughed, the deep rumble making you glance up. “Baby, when have you ever seen me lift a log? And also it was your idea to try it out”

You shrugged ignoring the second part of his comment. “Maybe it happened in a dream once.”

He shook his head, amusement clear in his eyes. “That imagination of yours…” He leaned down to kiss your cheek while swiping a cookie on his way out.

You grinned and turned back to your task, the sound of the spoon scraping against the bowl filling the space.

[marydoyouwrite]

Paint My Love

PAIRING: husband!mafia!doyoung, painter!reader (reader is a shy and awkward mess but she's also a softie who expresses herself well through art)

GENRE: smut; arranged marriage; a bit slow burn...?

SUMMARY: You've been married to Doyoung for almost a year now, no thanks to an arranged marriage planned by your families who only want what's 'best' for both of you. You and Doyoung barely meet, and when you do, he avoids you like the plague. Until one night he comes home and he asks you to stay as he eats dinner.

WARNINGS: Doyoung has a big cock, but this is fairly vanilla? Let me know!

5.3k word count

+++

You hear the door to your home opening as you dry the last dish you were washing. And this startles you because it's only past 7pm and your husband is already home.

Husband.

The thought of the term squeezes your heart for a little bit. Seeing each other like this is a moment you dread. Not because you hate him, but maybe because you really don't. You were okay with Doyoung and you thought, because both of you really didn't have a say in the marriage, that he would be too. But apparently not.

After your wedding, he went straight to his room and you had to fight the empty feeling you felt that night. Ever since, every chance encounter you had, either in the hallways, in the kitchen, or on the way out your house, ended up in avoidance. He wouldn't look at you, so much as breathe in your direction. And at first, it made your little heart sad. As someone who isn't really good at making the first move, you took his avoidance as a sign that he wants nothing to do with you.

But now, it bothers you a bit less. You made a schedule around the time he's not home so you wouldn't have to experience the awkward feeling. He's out of the house by 6 in the morning and usually comes home past 11 at night.

This time, you groan inwardly because he's home too early! When you hear him entering the kitchen, you note that there was a slight pause in his steps. Probably surprised to see you there. You don't face to greet him, instead, you focus on finishing the dishes so you can hurry back upstairs and lock yourself in your room.

But your plan is interrupted and you almost dropped the dish you were holding when he clears his throat.

"Sorry, but is there any food left?"

"Oh! Uhm, yeah. T-There's some in the fridge. I'll heat it up."

He nods his head a little bit. You probably responded a bit too fast there but your heart is racing. It was the first time he's ever talked to you. It would be a lie to say you weren't surprised at how deep his voice sounded.

You brisk-walked to the fridge and popped the pasta you cooked a while ago into the microwave. You bowed your head and started picking on your fingers. From behind your hair you moved your eyes to steal a glance at Doyoung just to see him looking at you, too.

You're surprised at the eye contact so you turn around and the microwave was just right on time to do its work. The pasta was ready. You carelessly grab it and put it in front of him. You also got some utensils along the way.

"Thank you, y/n."

And now, you awkwardly stand in front of him not sure about what to do. It wouldn't be rude to leave him, right? Or would it? It's not like you're friendly with each other!

Your thoughts make you hesitate and Doyoung notices it.

"Can you join me for a bit?"

And you're taken aback. You point at yourself to make sure he wants YOU to join him for a bit. And when he nods, you quickly grab the seat in front of him and sit down. Your back is straight and you don't know what to do with your hands. You are lost and you are a mess. You look at everything aside from him. Nobody can blame you. This is a scenario that's happened for the first time in almost a year.

Doyoung beaks the silence.

"Do I scare you?"

"No!"

And you choke on your own saliva before composing yourself and answering him again.

"I mean.. maybe just a little bit? We're not exactly on speaking terms."

This time when you answer him again, you get a chance to really look at him. He is the finest person you've ever laid your eyes on. He has a refined look with very distinct features. His eyes and nose are sharp but everything is balanced out by the softness on his cheeks and the light pink on his lips.

"I'm sorry to make you feel that way. It's my fault for always avoiding you. But trust that I'm the last person you should be afraid of."

Is this an opportunity to ask him? You're dying to know why he's avoided you from the beginning. But at the same time, you don't want to confirm anything that might make you more miserable than you already are. You eventually decide to be brave.

"Why though?

"Hmm?"

"W-Why do you avoid me..."

You look down and brace yourself for whatever his reasons are. You are fully prepared to be punched in the gut.

"I was just thinking you'd be more comfortable that way. I was partly the reason why you lost your freedom."

"Oh."

You slumped at his confession. All this time, you were lonely because he was trying to be considerate. And you don't know what to feel. You recall the nights you felt so lonely. You weren't a sociable person so you had very few friends, and the very few friends you had, weren't always in the country. Contrary to the expectation that daughters from rich families are socialities, you aren't. You preferred doing what you loved.

And being in an arranged marriage made you expect that you would somehow gain a new friend in the person of your husband. After all, you both had no choice. You thought maybe, you can be partners? But then, when he wasn't meeting your eyes and was trying his best to avoid you, you tell yourself that you can't push yourself on people. Creating connections was a choice, even if he was already your husband.

And then now you discover that Doyoung was just being considerate. How many nights of crying would you have avoided if you just made the first move instead of assuming? And how many nights of feeling alone would Doyoung have saved you from if he also didn't assume what you preferred?

So, oh. That was your dry ass response.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"I wasn't comfortable. I was... lonely."

His eyes soften and he reaches out to you. It's as if the lowness in your voice and the slump on your shoulders made him understand what you felt.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. It was wrong of me to just avoid you all this time." He lifts your head gently. "I'll make it up to you. I hope I'm not too late to do that."

You hear the sincerity in his voice so you nod at him. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach because you don't want to hope too much.

"Let me just wash my plate and why don't I walk you to your room as a start?" He smiles a little bit and you mirror it.

"O-Okay." You made a mental note to fucking stop stammering.

"Did you cook the pasta?"

"Yeah, is it bad?"

"No, it tastes amazing. Thank you for dinner. I should come home early more often."

"If you can, then I'll always cook dinner enough for both of us."

"I'll look forward, then."

You stand beside him as he washes his plate and utensils. You have a lot of things you're curious about him but you don't want to rush anything. Since he's making it up with you, you guess you'll have more time to talk later on.

"You probably want to ask me a lot of things. You can ask me anything. You don't have to hesitate." He looks down to meet your eyes and you're the first to shy away.

"Okay, but later."

Doyoung just smiles in acknowledgment and puts everything back in the drying rack.

"Shall we?"

And both of you go upstairs to your rooms. It's not awkward walking side by side in silence. It's new, but not awkward. You feel him glancing at you every now and then but he doesn't say anything. It's okay though. You have a feeling that in time, you'll be really good friends.

You reach your room and he opens the door for you.

"Here you are."

"Here I am." You just look at each other for a few more seconds before you break eye contact, again, for the second time tonight. You smile at each other before saying good night.

"Good night, Doyoung."

"Good night, Y/n."

You race back to your bed side and you take your notebook out. Before sleeping, you want to list down some dishes you can cook now that Doyoung is also going to eat what you cooked.

You're not an expert but he said he liked the pasta, so you might be decent cook. Besides, you hated eating out if you could avoid it so you've been cooking for yourself since college.

While scribbling down some ideas, your thoughts drift back to Doyoung's face. How everything is so in harmony with each other. How it's nice to look at and probably nice to touch, too. Then, his lips. Before you know it, you fell asleep with his face the last thing you thought.

---

Doyoung wakes up early. Being in the mafia required him to do so. His work doesn't involve too much fighting. That was his friend's Taeyong's job. His was the business side of it all -- the numbers, analytics, risk calculations, negotiations, etc. Although when it came down to it, he never hesitated to pull the trigger.

Last night was one of the rare times he gets to come home early. It was a smooth week after closing a complicated deal with a Japanese arms dealer. And on the drive home, his mind flashed your image, like it would always do at random times. How could he not think of you? You were a mystery aside from, of course, being his wife.

He never talked to you. Never made it obvious he would steal some looks at you when you cross paths at home. But never did he approach you, afraid that you would run away from him. And god forbid you left him.

On your wedding day, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he ever saw. You were quiet and shy majority of the time but when you smiled, everything around you glowed. But he knew it was an arranged marriage you never wanted to happen. So he swore to make it bearable for you to stay with him.

This time, he wonders if you'd allow him to take a step closer to you.

He couldn't feel any lighter when he recalls how your conversation went last night. He wanted to punch himself when he learned that all this time, you've been lonely all by yourself. But he shrugs off the guilt and instead focuses on the part that you've let him make it up to you. He'll fight hell just to come home in time for dinner every night.

He finishes tucking in his shirt and considers going to your room to bid you farewell before going to the office. Of course you're still asleep. But it wouldn't be weird right? He's your husband after all.

He comes out of his room and goes to yours. He's a bit surprised to find you sleeping on your table and not on the bed. He thinks about how sore you'll feel when you wake up.

He walks to you and sees the open notebook beside you with a list of dishes you listed, and then crossed out, with beef stew encircled more than twice. He smiles at the thought and gets excited for the beef stew you'll cook later.

He gently carries you to your bed and tucks you in. He brushes your hair away from your face and stares at you for a few more minutes. He gently pats your hair before leaving you to get more sleep. He can't bring himself to kiss you. Not when he hasn't made it up to you, yet.

His only thought the whole day is dinner. With you.

---

You hum a random tune as you stir the pot of beef stew you decided to cook for dinner. You feel giddy and nervous at the same time. It's the first time you're having dinner with Doyoung. And of course, the both of you get to talk.

You had a really good day. Aside from the quick whiplash you had when you realized you were on your bed as you recall being on your table prior to falling asleep. But you shrugged it off thinking you transferred to your bed in the middle of the night.

You also had a productive one because you were in the process of completing your collection for your next exhibit which is in 8 months. It seems to be a long time, but your target is to finalize your line up, at least 6 months before your exhibit. And you've decided on your final piece. You were hesitant at first but then eventually decided to do it. It'll be a project that you'll pour your heart and soul into.

You hear Doyoung's car entering your garage and you're elated. The table is set and the stew is perfect. You turn off the fire and quickly run to the door. You don't quite care if Doyoung thinks you're desperate and too excited. Quite frankly, you are excited.

Doyoung opens the door and his eyes widen when he sees you in front of him.

"Hi!" you beam. He recovers from his surprise and he smiles back at you.

"Hi, y/n. It smells delicious here."

"Does it? I cooked beef stew." He looks at you knowingly with a glimmer in his eyes.

"Did you? Well, I looked forward to dinner the whole day."

"Really?"

"Really."

You help him with his coat and walk together to the kitchen. You get the pot of stew and place it on the pot holder in the middle of all the side dishes you bought from a nearby restaurant.

You look at Doyoung and you see his jaw dropped at the aesthetics of it all.

"This is what I've been missing?" You giggle a little bit before serving him some of the stew on his plate.

"Well, I don't cook like this for myself. But I can't let you eat plain dinner."

"I'd gladly eat anything you prepare. I hope preparing this didn't tire you out too much?"

"Nope! It was easy. Plus, the side dishes were from the restaurant at 4th street."

You look at him expectantly as he takes his first bite.

"No kidding, Y/n, but this is the best stew I ever had."

You smile at his words and start eating, too. Getting the beef perfectly tender was worth it!

"How was your day?"

"Oh, well, not much! I have an exhibit coming up in 8 months. I spent the whole afternoon planning my last piece."

"Wow, an exhibition. Do you have a theme for it already?"

The curiosity in Doyoung's voice made you sit straight. You don't get a chance to talk about your work that much. Only when it's time to address your audience do you get to do it. But now, your husband wants to know more about your work.

"Yes, the theme is going to be Syndesi. It's greek for connection."

"Why did you choose that for your theme?"

"Connection is usually what inspires me for my work. When something or uh, someone, makes me feel something, I'm inclined to immortalize it on canvass."

Doyoung looks at you for moment. "I hope I can get a ticket to see your exhibition. I heard it sells out fast."

You laugh at his remark and add, "Well you're in luck because I happen to have a privilege for a plus one."

Dinner goes by smoothly. You enjoy the conversations you had with Doyoung. He kept asking you questions he's curious about and you happily respond to everything.

"Leave it alone, I'll wash it!"

"Hey, you cooked dinner, of course I'll wash the dishes."

"You must be tired though! Why don't you let me? I really don't mind."

"It's okay, this should be quick. If you want you can stay here with me while I wash. Then, I'll walk you to your room again."

You like his idea. So you walk back to one of the stools and sit down as Doyoung folds his sleeves to start washing. For a moment, you allow yourself to admire him. His broad shoulders seem so dependable and his back so strong. You look at his arms and you wonder how it would feel like to be carried in them. You're embarassed at your thoughts so you clear your throat and decide to walk beside him.

"What's your favorite food?"

---

"What's your favorite food?"

Doyoung looks at you as you stand beside him. He's tried not to dwell too much on it but now that you're standing so close to him, he can't help but burn this image of you on his mind. You were wearing a university shirt that's sized so perfectly for you and a pair of red shorts that was too short for his comfort but perfect for his liking. The shirt was modest, and yet it hugged your breasts and your waist in a way that made him imagine lewd and terrible things.

"Doyoung?"

"Oh, yeah. I liked the beef stew you cooked tonight."

"Beef stew is your favorite?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Wow! I didn't know that? I got lucky, huh?"

He looks at you again and he can tell you for sure that he's the one who's lucky. His mind is back in the gutter when he notes how milky the skin on your thighs look. A perfect canvass waiting to be marked by him. He feels his cock getting hard at his thoughts so he quickly finishes washing the dishes so he can save himself from embarrasment.

"Let me tuck you in."

He walks you to your room and bids you good night. He badly needs to deal with the hard on that he brought upon himself.

"Thank you for dinner, Y/n. Good night." You smile at him with a smile that went straight to his balls.

"Good night, Doyoung."

If the smile wasn't enough, you gave him a quick hug before closing the door behind you.

It was going to be a long night.

---

Dinners with Doyoung were the highlight of your days. Before you knew it, 3 months have passed and you've grown closer to each other. He's become a friend you can rely on and you want to think you've also become that way for him.

Tonight, though, you can't cook. You're going to have to buy some take outs because you want to show him something. It's been 3 months since you also started working on the last piece for your exhibition and today's the day you planned to show it to Doyoung.

It took you a whole day to work on the finishing touches before finally being satisfied. You dont want to postpone showing this to Doyoung because today is a special day. It also works with your personal deadline for the exhibit, so nothing can stop you from showing it to him tonight.

You look at the clock and see that it's almost 7. You panic because you haven't ordered the take outs and you are a huge mess! Your hair is tied in a very messy bun with so many paint splatters on your shirt, arms, and thighs. Not very glamorous but you can't afford scolding yourself now. Not now that you already hear Doyoung's car parking!

You run out of your office and get to the door as fast as you can. You were panting when Doyoung came in and he is rightfully surprised to see you.

---

"Doyoung!"

He is shocked and awfully turned on while looking at you as you tried to catch your breath. Your hair was tucked in a bun and you were wearing a loose white shirt with shorts underneath, that he's not really sure about. Hard to say because your shirt went over whatever bottoms you had on. And fuck, he already thought you were pretty. But right now, you were gorgeous enough to make him lose his mind.

"Doyoung, I'm sorry I couldnt make dinner, I was rushing something!"

"Hey, its okay. We can do take outs. Want me to order?" You sigh in relief.

"I was just gonna ask you to! While waiting, I'm just gonna take a shower because I reek of paint and thinner."

"I got you. Take your time and leave the take outs to me."

"Thank you!"

You rush up to your room and he settles on the sofa. He dials a number and asks the person on the other line to deliver some good steak, wine, and sides to your home.

He replays how you looked like again. You were catching your breath and he's convinced he's turned into a lunatic because all he can think about is how pretty you would look like catching your breath under him as he fucked you senselessly.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and decides to take a quick cold shower and change into comfortable clothes too, as he waits for the food.

Doyoung comes down after showering just in time for the food's arrival. He fixes the table and gets everything ready for when you're done showering. And as he hears your footsteps descending down the stairs, he places the wine on the table.

"Steak and wine?! They still deliver at this time?"

"I called a friend."

"Really? He brought it that quick? It was barely an hour." Doyoung laughs.

"Well, he's a good friend. Let's eat?"

The whole dinner, Doyoung had to remind himself of self control. As usual, your conversations were pleasant. He's been laughing at your stories and you've been asking him questions you were curious about. This time, about the places he's been to.

But, hell, his limits are constantly being pushed. You were wearing a pink camisole top with silk pajamas. The camisole gave him a sweet little peek at the luscious top of your breasts. He knows that one of these days, he'll get sick from all the cold showers he's taking.

"Doyoung? Hello?"

"Uhm, yeah? Sorry I was thinking of something I left in the office."

"Oh is it important? Do you have to go back?" He notes the tinge of sadness in your voice.

"No, no. That's a tomorrow thing. Dont worry about it. What were you saying?"

"I wanted to show you something."

"Really? What is it?"

"Do you remember when I told you I was working on my last piece for the exhibit?"

"Yeah, of course I do."

"Well.. it's done!"

"It is? That's amazing! And are you going to show it to me?" you nod shyly.

"Would you like to see it now?

"I cant wait. Show me."

You stand from your seat and very slowly, you carefully took one of his fingers in your hand. You looked up at him as if asking if its okay to hold him like that. So he assures you by fully holding your hand.

You both go up and walk towards the last room which he knows to be your office. He never went inside as he treats it as one of your private spaces where you can be yourself. As you went inside the office, he sees a huge canvass in the middle covered by a gray cloth.

You leave him to walk towards the canvass. And slowly, you unveil the art work. As you reveal the final piece to your exhibit, he stiffens in awe. He is blown away.

Slowly he walks toward the huge canvass and stares at his eyes that was staring back at him. It was him. The final piece you were excited about, the art that you mentioned so many times, the painting that crowned your exhibit on connections -- was his face.

He can't begin to describe the swell in his heart. He feels out of breath. You have captured everything about him that he thought only a mirror can. Hell, this was better than a mirror. You captured a longing in his eyes that he thought he was able to hide from you.

"I wanted this to be the final piece because the connection I made with you is my favorite one. I h-hope thats okay."

He looks at you and takes quick strides to stand in front of you.

"Y/n.. will you let me kiss you." He sees you part your lips and your eyes widen a little bit, but you let him.

"Y-You can kiss me."

And he does. He kisses your lips with all the pent up passion he's kept within him.

---

Doyoung kisses you with so much passion.

You feel his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth and you welcome him. You part your lips very slightly and he takes his time to explore every inch of your mouth.

You feel feverish because of the kiss and your knees turn weak so you support yourself by holding on to his arms. You feel his hands roam at your back as he continues to kiss you.

You feel his lips travel down to your jaw until he reaches a sensitive spot on your neck. You close your eyes and moan his name as he sucks on the sensitive spot.

"Y/n, you have to forgive me. I might not be able to hold myself back tonight."

"I dont want you to hold back."

Your answer lights a fire in Doyoung and he carries you out of your office and into his room. He sets you down on his bed and attaches his lips to yours again. As he does, his hands roam around inside your camisole. His thumbs play on the skin just under your breasts.

"Arms up, baby."

And you comply. He discards your camisole and throws them somewhere on the floor. He looks at you like he is starved before he lowers himself to your chest. He takes your breasts in his two hands and fondle both of them gently.

"You're a fucking dream. They're beyond whatever I've imagined. "

He puts one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks on it while he fiddles the other one between his fingers.

"D-Doyoung, ahh."

He peers up at you before sucking on your other nipple. He plays with your breasts for a bit more before he lifts himself up. He looks at you and he is proud to have made the skin on your chest and your nipples, the bright color red that they are right now.

Doyoung takes the band of your pajamas between his fingers and pulls it down. He places a kiss on your core before removing the last piece of clothing that' preventing him from seeing the whole of you.

"So, beautiful, my wife. Open your legs for me."

And you do. You dont even feel shy anymore. As far as youre concerned, you're burning for this man in front of you.

"Good girl."

He kisses the inside of your thighs and using his index finger, he makes small circles on your skin. Slowly, he dips his head into your core and starts giving your slit some kitten licks before fully sucking on your clit. You arch your back at the sensation.

"A-ahh! Yes, oh, Doyoung!"

While sucking on your clit, Doyoung inserts a finger inside you and your hips buckle at the intrusion.

"So wet for me. So ready to take me in."

He inserts another and curls it to reach a delicious spot inside you that makes you scream a bit.

He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you as he looks up.

"Can you come for me, Y/n?"

"Y-Yes! Oh god, I-I'm almost... fuck, almost there."

"Let it out, angel."

And you don't need to be told twice. A powerful wave of orgasm hits you and Doyoung rides you through your high by continuously moving his fingers. He goes down on you again to lick the cum out of you.

"Delicious. You taste so sweet."

You catch your breath and realize that Doyoung hasn't removed a single piece of his clothing yet. But that's about to change. You prop yourself up using your elbows as he removes his shirt and discards his pajama.

As he does, his cock springs out in all its glory. You feel a cold sweat on your back as you see how huge your husband is. Not that you had a lot to compare it to. It's just that, you dont think it'll fit.

"Doyoung... will it fit?" Your husband chuckles at your evident nervousness.

"It will, angel. Can you relax for me now?"

You lay back down again and decide to trust Doyoung. He grabs your legs and spreads them wide open. He situates himself between you and grabs something from the drawer of his bedside. Before he gets to tear the packet of condom, you speak.

"N-No condom."

"I'm not opposed to having kids with you, y/n. But are you okay with getting pregnant immediately after tonight? Because it thats what you want, I'll make sure you do."

You almost rolled your eyes, but you don't. Instead, you shyly cover your face.

"I started taking the pill." Doyoung is shocked but his face breaks into a playful grin. And you cant blame him becuase you're not exactly on fucking terms. It only meant that you didnt consider fucking out of the question. It was very much in the question for you.

"I'll grill you more on that after."

"I'd like that, please."

Doyoung throws the condom behind him and he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. He slowly eases inside of you and you tear up at the penetration.

"H-hurts..."

"I'm almost halfway, baby. Can you take it for me." You nod at him as he bottoms out inside of you. You take a deep breath at the burning pain.

"I have to move now, Y/n."

"Wait! N-not yet.."

"I promise it'll feel better." Doyoung starts to move inside of you. Very slowly at first and gradually picking up the pace. And he's right, it does feel better.

You make all sorts of noises and you're sure you've left a couple of nail marks on Doyoung's back. But you couldnt care less.

"F-fuck, you're so tight!"

One of Doyoung's hands press down on your stomach and you scream at the feeling.

"A-Ahh! Doyoung, faster please." He grabs hold of your waist a bit too tight that you know it'll leave a mark on you tomorrow morning.

"Shit! I feel you squeezing my cock, are you close, angel?"

"Y-Yes! Ahh.... ahh!"

Doyoung slams himself into you with more speed and strength. He puts his thumb over your clit and this sends you over the edge.

"I'm c-coming, Doyoung!"

"I'm close, too. Fuck! Come for me, Y/n."

And you do. You orgasmed so hard and Doyoung thrusts into you a few more times before you feel his hot cum fill your walls.

Doyoung doesnt let his weight crush you and instead he waits for while before he pulls out of you. You sigh at the loss of contact. Doyoung gives you a quick kiss on your forehead before he walks away for a little bit and comes back with a towellete to wipe the inside of your thighs.

After he cleans you up, he joins you in bed and hugs you to his chest. He covers both of you with a blanket and he brushes your the strands of hair that fell on your face.

He stares at you with a warm look before speaking again.

"Happy anniversary, Y/n."

"You knew?"

"I did."

You reach up to kiss him on the lips before snuggling closer to his chest.

"Happy anniversary, Doyoung."

"About the pills..."

You groan out loud, but you look forward to tomorrow.

---

a/n: Enjoy~!

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi!! I just found your blog and 😭😭 you're so talented, like, what?? I def need more!!! I dunno if this is how it works, or if you're still doing the dirty asks game, but I was thinking maybe E,K,U and S (or Z!) for Johnny?

Have a lovely day!! oh, and well, happy new year 🙂‍↕️

Prompts are from this ask game and part of my ongoing list of answers! You can also find A, B, C, D, and V already answered for this boi.

Warnings for...well...they are dirty asks so be prepared for sexy and sexual content 😉 including (but not limited to) discussion of oral, somnophilia, ummmm tickling? emotional unavailability? and idk other stuff. MINORS DNI.

Happy New Year! I love ya! I appreciate you taking the time, dearie 💜 Happy reading... 😈💋

K - Kissing

So this...implies some romance that's not typical for Johnny. His kissing is less emotional and more intense and deep--but seriously, it's not an indication of his longterm interest or level of affection. (There is an exception to this which is Johnny has no problem giving hickies. He will mark. you. up. ((He can't be marked in the same way due to healing.))

HOWEVER, those small, nonchalant pecks--if Johnny ends up smooching you and it doesn't lead to sex, it wasn't in the middle of sex, or especially if there's no one around to see it,--that's THE REAL DEAL. Something utterly devoted has sparked inside him if (and when) Johnny slows down to kiss you. Or slows for any reason, really.

In regards to where Johnny likes to kiss or be kissed? Again, he's not much of a kisser. He's big on touching and groping and tickling, since he's a goofball and true 'player,' i.e. Johnny is nearly always playful, but once there's a connection made with you, he...

okay, so, the thing is, he actually does like to be kissed, and the place that drives Johnny wild is above his dick, right at his adonis belt, that v-cut, the pubes. This is so ridiculously intimate/possessive/reverent; he can barely handle the conflicting drives to melt beneath or conquer you. Strange thing...he would have thought the proximity would just make him want a blowjob but instead he's a goner.

U - Underwear

Commando. Easy-Access Man. Next question.

LOL, just kidding. Mostly, Johnny wears nothing, certainly not with his Human Torch second skin. He used to wear boxers but lost too many of those to a smoldering heap. No point.

On women? Crotchless panties are his favorite, but there's this new trend of booty shorts--he's very, very into them. Generally, he would have thought anything less-is-more would be best in his eyes, but there's this kinda *pop* in the stretchy fabric when it jumps over the swell of your ass...mmhmmm IT'S GOOD.

S - Sleepy Sex

Sleepy morning? You are 100% welcome to wake him up with some head or ride his cock to your heart's content, but Johnny himself doesn't usually start stuff first thing. This goes hand in hand with him being unable to slow down much. He's all about releasing tension before bed though. A good romp to tire him out and calm the mind? Absofuckinglutely. No, he doesn't particularly care if you were already asleep. You'll thank him later. Don't worry. It's always worth your his while.

Z - Zones

Classic man. Go for his neck or his crotch. Johnny is a #basicbitch in this respect. It feeds his ego to be touched all over--duh, he's got this glorious bod, you should want to touch him,--but he has never been a fan of biting, on him or on others. Since he's just about always in the mood, it does not take a lot of foreplay to get him ready.

E - Extra Info

Unpopular opinion: I imagine that perhaps the ultimate show of love/devotion/possession to Johnny is not marriage and all that normal stuff but, instead, if you let him brand you.

He works hard and focuses to not burn people, so you allowing him permanently claim you as his--which he would not do in a casual way, not with random hookups and one-night-stands, not until he is sure that word won't get back to Sue who would kill him--shows a level of trust he didn't believe he would want much less earn.

Johnny is aware he's a ridiculous and kinda stunted man-child emotionally. He's smart enough to know that. Johnny will never stop being grateful to the woman who can stick around, see past it, and grow with him...playfully, of course. You should never stop roasting him about the man-child-ness.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Law and Order - A Once In A Blue Moon Story

Part I

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description: When a blind date leads to disaster, you're almost ready to give up on men. Until he sits down on the bar stool in front of you. This man is different - sensual, gorgeous, confident. He makes you want to live a little on the wild side. What do you do when a night you don't want to forget turns into a forbidden relationship by light of day? How do you cope, especially when he doesn't seem to want a thing to do with you?

Warnings: Rough sex, illicit relationship, dom/sub overtones, toxic relationship, inbalance of power in the work place

Word Count: 5766

Author's Note: Hiya lovelies! It's been a while since I've posted a story on here. I kind of lost my muse and had to find her, and my love for writing all over again.

Thanks to @horseshoegirl @sarahsmi13s and @desert-fern for chatting with me about this story and making sure I'm handling all of the things which happen in the best way I can!

This is going to be a multi-part story. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist | Next Part

Part I

The noise washes over you in waves, inane chatter and shrieking from the velvet booths lining the walls, combined with the genteel clacking of cutlery against china in a migraine-inducing din. The bar you’re in is popular, with tables occupied from wall to wall. Normally, you’d consider yourself fortunate to be seated at one of them. There’s one reason why you’re not. Blind dates have never gone well for you. Either your dates are drab and dull, or you’ve been partnered with the worst men on the planet. Rude, boorish, vulgar, you name it, you’ve been on a date with a man bearing the unsavory trait. Tonight’s date isn’t shaping up to be any better.

You’re sitting at the tiny bar-style table playing with the wine in your glass, watching the carnelian liquid slosh as the liquid warms by the second. Your attention is completely on the droplets of wine sliding down the sides of the glass. Your date could care less. He doesn’t seem to notice your boredom or frustration. In fact, you’re not sure he’s even looked at you all night. He’s chattering about something involving stocks and bonds, the details so boring your eyes nearly roll back into your head while peering over the rim of his pint glass at every cocktail-dress-clad girl in sight. Drinks at this swanky bar were supposed to turn into dinner. You’re not sure this date is going to go that far.

Moreover, you’re not sure you want it to. You’re on this date as a favor for a friend. She’d sworn up and down that this guy was a real gem when she was setting you up with him. She’d spent days talking him up, pointing out how kind and hot he was. Sure, he hasn’t been the worst date you’ve been on. He is easy on the eyes, and nice at first impression. But he isn’t anything special. Maybe you have loftier expectations for your relationships than most. Or maybe you just want to go on a date where you can have a conversation, not be talked at in a mockery of one. In any case, you don’t find yourself too disappointed. You’re starting a new job in the morning and you should be fresh for your 8 AM orientation time - an early night would have been your preference. But your watch says it is already past 7 PM and getting later by the minute. This man can’t seriously think he’s so suave, can he? He’s been sending you alluring gazes and smug grins all night long, uncaring of your silence.

“So, whattaya say to skipping dinner and heading back to my place for the rest of the night?”

You’re not sure you heard him right. Mind churning, you sip on the wine, barely tasting the liquid. You’re not sure what he expects. Did he expect you to jump him the minute he offered? You’re resettling your mental estimation of his intellect downwards by the minute.

“I’m awfully hungry,” you demur. “Dinner sounds pretty good to me.”

“I’ve got something that’ll fill you up back at my place.”

His voice is greasy enough that you feel a little disgusted just hearing it. 

“Yeah?” You make your voice breathy like you’re a little turned on by his display. You lean forward, knowing the deep vee of your dress is showing off the slightest hint of the lace edging your bra. He smirks pompously, chest-puffing outward, eyes tipping to your exposed cleavage like iron ore to a magnet. He has the audacity to lick his lips, and while before you would have let him down gently, now you want to hit him where it hurts - his ego.

“Well, I hope you enjoy it all by yourself.” Your grin is sharp. “Like you probably have been every night for the last few years of your life.”

He looks a little like he’s been slapped, this finance bro, with his lips gawping unflatteringly.

“Do you have any idea who I am in this town?” He’s turning red under the collar, eyes bugging out.

“Nope.” You say the words flippantly, sipping on the last inch of the red wine at the bottom of your glass. You may not like the man, but he has good taste in wine.  “Nor do I care to.”

You lean in then, your off-putting grin widening across your cherry lips.

“I have no interest in getting to know a pompous, over-blown man-child who loves to flaunt their success in other people’s faces. So no. I won’t be coming home with you for a night in. I think I’d throw up if I saw the ‘something that fills me up’ you’ve got over there.”

He’s so angry, his face screws up at your words, the flush creeping up to his face.

“Bye-bye, now!”

He nearly knocks over a waitress and two fellow patrons on his way out of the door, sputtering impotently the entire way.

You’re still chuckling to yourself ten minutes later when a fresh glass of wine is set in front of you. 

“That was artfully done.” You startle a little at the words, your head whipping up so fast that your neck hurts at the sudden motion. The new man settling into the barstool before you is a cut above the gentleman you spoke to. Your face must show some confusion because he continues, “I saw you chase that guy away.”

He’s gorgeous, broad shoulders clad in a perfectly fitted suit. Every inch of his appearance screams luxury and class, from his auburn hair to his well-groomed mustache. He’s got long-fingered hands, one holding a cut crystal glass holding amber liquid, the other bearing a signet ring on the index finger as it rests on the table between you. There are eyes on him from all over the bar, and yet he doesn’t seem to notice. His whiskey eyes settle only on you like you're all he wants to see.

“Thank you.” You grin, sipping on the wine, the rich red liquid delicious on your tongue. “But it was necessary, I’m afraid.”

You nearly gag just thinking about the last words that idiot said to you before he left. At least you had the good sense to cut him off before he tried to strong-arm you into getting in bed with him.

“I kind of overheard what he said.” This stranger is smirking, confidence exuding from every pore. You’re drawn by his easy demeanor, as much as you are by his opening words. Hopefully, they’ll lead to an actual conversation. “It’s obvious he has no idea how to get to know a beautiful woman like yourself.”

“Is that so?” You lean forward again, wondering if a flash of your cleavage will take him in. But he doesn’t take the bait you’re presenting so alluringly. All he does is take off the suit jacket he's wearing, revealing the tanned vee of his neck in a white button-up shirt. You have to hide your hungry glances behind the rim of your wineglass when he rolls the sleeves up to the crook of his elbow.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’d much rather get to know you instead.” He leans forward too, and as he does, you see gold glinting from between his pecs.

“I promise I’m nothing like that idiot you chased away with your cherry-lipped smile and acid words.”

You shrug, running a finger over the rim of the glass. “I don’t know anything yet.”

He shrugs then, sipping on his drink nonchalantly. You drag your eyes up and down his person. He lets you check him out with good grace, a smirk tipping his lips up and eyes hot as they return the languid glances. “But maybe, just maybe, I’d like to.”

As he’d introduced himself to you, Bradley is a breath of fresh air. You find yourself on the edge of your seat, hanging on his every word. He’s flirty, kind, yet down-to-earth. He's a professional working in the city, loves his family and friends, and reads actual, genuine books. If only your friend had set you up with Bradley instead. Under his knowing gaze, you find yourself spilling things you’ve never told another soul. 

The crowd surges around you as the night deepens. But still, you stay, sitting on the stool, downing glass after glass of plush, rich reds and fruity, dry whites while wishing Bradley was drinking his whiskey off your lips. With each word shared, each story, the spark of attraction smoulders between the two of you. Between one trip to the bar and the next, he settles on the stool next to yours. 

If you thought he was breathtaking across the table, he's heart-stopping sitting next to you. His effect on you is worse because when he's close, you just have to look down to see the mile-long expanse of his legs, muscular thighs practically straining against the expensive wool blend of his trousers.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, beautiful.” His eyes are searingly hot a few inches away from you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your waist, a big hand splayed just under your breasts. “But I’d very much like to take you home tonight.”

You gasp at the feeling of his breath across your lips. One inch closer, and you’d be kissing him.

“I shouldn’t.” Your voice is quiet, a little hoarse from the alcohol, nonstop chatter and laughter. “I don’t usually go home with strange men at the bar, no matter how attractive they are.”

He smiles, tipping his head to the side. His voice is a rumble as he whispers into your ear, tone wheedling, his other hand trailing down the neckline of your dress, fingers hot over the delicate skin of your chest.

“I promise if you want me to stop at any time, I will. I’ll call you a cab and send you home with my number saved in your phone as soon as you say the word.”

You’re losing your words, your arguments at his voice. All the reasons why you shouldn’t go home with a near stranger dissipate with every minute you stare into his eyes. 

“Take me home,” You gasp, sucking in greedy breaths as he plays with your necklace. You knew he was tall when he walked away to get your new drink, but when he helps you off the stool and drapes his suit jacket across your shoulders, he dwarfs you easily. You have a sneaking suspicion you may be in trouble. 

He leads you out of the bar with a steady, warm hand at the small of your back. Despite the crowded streets, a taxi shows up the minute he raises his hand, power and confidence an aura emanating from him. The taxi ride to his apartment downtown is an alcohol-fueled swirl of sensation. Your focus is split between the broad palm splayed over your bare thigh and the filthy litany spilling out of his bitten lips. He keeps the words just barely audible, a placid grin on his face every time the cab driver looks back, and you’re fighting the urge to drag him into filthy kisses the entire way. 

Would you be able to taste the whiskey on his tongue? Or would he taste like the mints, sharp and peppery with an underlying hint of sweetness he’d popped as you left? You can’t know for sure, not until you’ve finally got him behind closed doors.

And what doors they end up being. When Bradley unlocks the doors and ushers you in, your jaw drops to the floor. His living room is a gorgeous, high-ceilinged room, with walls half distressed brick and half grey-toned wood panelling. The floors are soft, sandy wood. While you very much would like to see the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining two of the four walls, complete with a rolling ladder like you’ve only ever seen on television, your eyes are drawn to the massive windows showing off the beautiful San Francisco skyline, lit up in the night.

“Your apartment is beautiful.” 

“It’s not the only thing that is.” 

You whirl around at the words, fighting the heat threatening to overtake your face. If Bradley looked practically edible languidly sprawled over the barstool, long legs brushing against yours, he looks divine standing in his living room with his bright white shirt unbuttoned to his navel.

“I-I don't usually do things like this.”

You curl an arm around your waist, hugging yourself. Standing here in the center of his cookie-cutter-perfect living room, you feel like an outsider, like the speck of lint or dust spoiling the facade. You don’t belong here. You don’t deserve to stand opposite a man this beautiful, be propositioned or devoured by him. Yet when you glance upward, his face shows you nothing but heat and hunger.

“Shh, sweetheart.” The pet-name makes you shiver, gooseflesh forming on your bare arms and pimpling over your collar bones. “I know you don’t. But we have all night to figure out what you like. We'll go as slow as you need.”

You’re not sure what you’re looking for in his face. Reassurance? Compassion? Want? Hunger? You see all those things and more. He lets you stand there in silence, eyes drinking you in, comfortable just watching and being watched. The more you see, the more you can feel your mind change. With the haze of alcohol thrumming through your veins fading a little, your brain is making more decisions. It was lust, pure and simple which got you here. Now your brain has to decide what you want to do here. More and more, the decision seems to be following him, letting yourself fall. You’ve never been impetuous, not where matters of the heart are concerned. Maybe you should be for once. The words end up tripping off the edge of your tongue of their own volition.

“What if I don’t want to go slow at all?” 

You know what it means when a man smiles at you like that, eyes molten, tongue sliding out to wet his lips. He prowls forward then, feline grace rippling the muscles of his torso. His arms feel like silk over steel as they crush you to his chest. Your heart stutters, breath catching as he leans forward. But he doesn’t kiss you. He seems content to breathe you in, foreheads pressed together. His mustache traces ticklish and light over your upper lip with every breath. You want nothing more than to smash your lips to his.

“I bet you don't, beautiful.” His eyes sparkle in the darkness as he traces one calloused fingers over your lacquered lips. “But I get the feeling you don't know what you want. You've spent all night so far telling me you don't let people take you home on the first night. But here you are, practically gasping for every touch of my skin to yours. So what’s going on in that pretty little head?”

The words make you squirm a little, thighs rubbing together futilely.

“I wonder,” His tone goes soft and contemplative yet light as he slides his hand up the expanse of your soft thighs, tenderly squeezing the muscular flesh. “Were you searching for a man to take you in hand? Someone who would smack that pretty little ass when you're being a brat? Is that why you chased that guy away so easily? Did you know instinctively he wouldn’t be able to do that for you?”

When you moan, it feels like you've lost the game he started playing. But you're not disappointed, not when his lips quirked upwards in a proud grin. And not when you feel his finger sweep over the damp gusset of your panties, teasing and light.

“Fuck, I knew you'd be gorgeous like this.” 

You shiver against him, muscles trembling, fighting against the urge to move his hands where you want them most. But even the slightest motion has those big hands clamping down over your wrists or swatting at the meat of your thigh, just harsh enough that you jolt. Your head is spinning already. 

“You're so quiet, so compliant and obedient, my good girl.” You have to swallow your whimpers at the term of endearment. “I can’t wait to see how good you can be.”

You nod, maybe too eagerly, if the smirk taking over his face is proof. 

“See?” The phrase is almost mocking as he purrs, “So damned pretty and soft and sweet.”

Your voice shakes as you try to collect your composure, breaking despite all the force of your will.

“I'm not that sweet. I can be rude and domineering and brash.”

He chuckles, pointing to a dark hallway, branching off the living room.

“Go to my bedroom, sweetheart. Take that sinful little dress off and sit on the bed.”

You're so gone for this man already. You don’t know his last name, what he does for work, or anything important. But you don’t care. As you trot into his bedroom, all you can think about is how his lips looked as they said, “good girl,” and how desperately you want to be good for him. Your hands are rough as you tug at the suddenly constricting fabric of your dress. You want it off; need the suddenly scratchy fabric away from your skin. When the dress lands on the ground in front of the bed in a bundle of dark fabric, you feel like you can finally breathe.

“Such a pretty girl.” 

You startle at the whisper. You hadn't turned the lights on when you walked in, navigating in the half-light of the streetlights below. A switch clicks in the silence, and you're surrounded by a halo of light. Bradley's in the shadows still, and you can’t see even a glint of his eyes.

“Turn around, baby.” 

You feel exposed all of a sudden, wearing only your lacy bra, barely there panties, and heels. His voice seems to echo around you, muddled and sibilant as they murmur words - orders - your way.

“Hands on the bed frame, beautiful.”

You stumble over your own feet as you rush to follow his instructions. With your eyes next-to-useless in the cool darkness of the room, it feels like your other senses are in overdrive.

“You look hotter than sin standing there like that, gorgeous.” 

You can feel the puffs of his breath over your sensitized skin, the fine hairs covering your arms standing on end at his presence ghosting over you.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet, so compliant and obedient for me. Keep those legs apart for me, now.” 

He chuckles darkly, the sound deep and velvety soft. You have to fight your whine as your knees nearly buckle at the way he sounds.

“You like that?”

You whine when his big hand smooths over the expanse of your back. 

“I knew you’d like having someone tell you what to do. I knew you’d look delicious like this, spread out for me like that. Pretty girl, my pretty, pretty baby.”

Your brain fritzes out at those words, all higher-level thoughts blanking out at the possessive curl to his voice. Your prior dalliances - you'd never call them relationships because they were too short to be labeled as such - were never bold enough to become so possessive with you. You never thought you would like it. But hearing Bradley call you his, even when you know this is only for tonight, makes your toes curl and your panties uncomfortably wet.

“What happened to that fire, huh? What happened to the feisty little thing who sent a man away for asking you to hop into his bed on the first meeting?”

His words are a little mocking as those big hands smooth over your waist, plucking at the waistband of your panties.

“Bet his eyes would fall out of his head if he could see you standing here, just like this. With your pert little ass on display and your pussy all wet for me.”

You moan at the words, gasping at the feeling of his hands as they tug the lacy fabric down, flinching at the snap of the clasp of your bra as he pulls that away, too. Your skin flushes with heat at the feeling of the soft kiss he presses to the small of your back. But the tender teasing touches disappear shortly after. He leaves you standing there, wearing only your red-bottomed heels, aching for his touch, shivering as the cool air wafts over your heated skin. You have a feeling he’s still there, your ears picking up each infinitesimal rustle of fabric and soft brush of footsteps on the floor. He’s just left you standing splayed out for his own amusement. 

How is it possible for you to feel both turned-on and uncomfortably exposed at the same time? Your fingers ache from holding onto the smooth wooden surface of the bed frame. As your patience wanes, your fidgeting increases.

“Bradley?”

You’ve never heard yourself sound like this, plaintive and strung out, aching for someone else's touch. It feels like you’re breaking down walls you’ve never known you had put up. All you can do is hold onto the bedframe and pray you aren’t vulnerable with someone dangerous.

“Nuh, uh, uh, pretty.” The hushed admonishment comes with the press of lips against your shoulder blade.

“If you want me, then you have to tell me exactly what you want.”

You tremble at the words, grip tightening on the burnished wood until all you can feel is the tug of stressed muscles. You let your head fall until your hair is obscuring everything from sight. You’re not sure you can say these words, not without feeling horribly, uncomfortably exposed. 

“Touch me, please.” 

It’s the barest whisper, but you know he hears you. His hands are hot against your skin as they draw you up. You surrender to the sensations of his calloused fingers trailing over your stomach. They’re teasing and light as they shape your breasts, palms hot as they hold you close.

“Oh, baby, you feel better than I even thought possible.”

Pleasure sinks molten and sweet through your veins at the gorgeously rough purr in his voice. You sag against him, barely trusting in your limbs to hold you. You can feel his smile as he presses hot kisses down the side of your throat. The scratch of his stubble makes you gasp. With every press, the ache between your thighs intensifies even further. But Bradley doesn’t move his hands, no matter how you wriggle or try to push his hands down to where you so desperately need them.

“Please, Bradley.”

It feels like you’ve been begging for his touch forever when he finally moves. His hands twirl you around, and you find yourself crushed to his chest. His eyes are molten, prismatic as he tugs you close. It feels like you’re drowning in him. You curl your arms around his muscular neck, staring deep into his eyes as he peers at you.

“Please, what, baby?”

There’s a mocking tilt to the smug grin on his face as he looks you over.

“I told you what I need from you tonight.” 

You whimper at the words, trying to surge up, aching for some more contact from him.

“Kiss me.” 

“Good girl.” You’re not sure you’re ever going to get tired of hearing him call you a ‘good girl”. But then his lips cover yours, and you’re not thinking about anything but him. These kisses, just like all of the others tonight, are hot and claiming. You twine your fingers into the curls at the base of his skull, gasping at the press of his tongue.

“You’re such a good girl, sweetheart.” His lips slip down the side of your neck, teeth scraping over your pulse in a knee-weakening manner. “Mmmm, darling, do you want this to go any further?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to respond in anything other than a breathless, needy moan.

“Well, you know what you have to do, beautiful.”

You’re growling when you wrench his mouth back down to yours. “I just want you to make me cum.” You say the words between needy kisses, pushing the shirt up until you can finally wrest it off. The heat of his skin feels so good against your own. When you look up, the smile taking over his face is breathtakingly gorgeous, eyes blown wide as he lays you down on the pristine, cool sheets of his bed.

“You’re too beautiful to be real.” 

You shiver as he places a kiss against your sternum, open-mouthed and wet. The shiver turns into a moan when he wraps his lips around one taut nipple and sucks. Each rough pass of his tongue has pleasure coiling in the pit of your stomach. It feels like you’re searching for oxygen like you’ve never breathed it before when he finally pulls away. You’re half expecting him to tease you again, when he laves his tongue over the other, nipping and biting. Your moans spiral through the air. You know what he’s doing when he traces those kisses down your torso, but you don’t have the patience for any more teasing.

You tug him into a messy kiss. Your teeth clash against his somewhat painfully, but when he crawls over you, you can’t find it in you to mind.

“Baby, you have to let me make sure you’re ready.”  

“I don’t care.” You’re aware you sound like a complete brat, but Bradley seems endeared by it. He lets you manhandle him onto the bed, eyes shuttering as you settle on his lap, core settled over the sizable bulge in his trousers.

“I want you,” you’re practically sobbing as you grind down in his lap. “I’ve wanted you since you sat down on that bar stool.”

“Please.” It’s a desperate plea. “Stop teasing me. I’m ready.”

“Shh, beautiful. I’ve got you.” He smoothes a hand over the plane of your stomach, uncaring of all the places you hate about yourself. 

You can’t believe your eyes when he finally pulls the remainder of his clothes off. He’s golden and gorgeous, tan glowing as the moonlight loving highlights every muscle. You’re still not sure why a man like him wanted to take you home, not when he looks like he does. His hands smooth over you, parting your legs as he kisses you. Each press of his lips to yours are deep and tender. You search for his lips every time he pulls away and gasp when he nips at the pout on your lips in retaliation. You can feel the blunt head of his cock against your folds as he grinds into you, the rough slide of skin against skin easing as you grow wetter, needier beneath him.

When he presses into you, you nearly come at the first thrust. He’s big and thick, stretching you in a way you’ve never been stretched before. He settles into a languid pace. You feel claimed with each slow thrust, all friction and heat, pressure collecting at the pit of your stomach.

“Please,” you babble, pleading for him to continue, “Don’t stop, please.”

It feels like there’s lightning in your veins. Lightning which crackles and sparks until it feels like you’re one exposed livewire lying on the bed. He gathers you up then, settles you down on his lap, hands clamped on the corded muscle of his shoulders as you go ragdoll-limp in his arms.

“There” It’s a soft, sub-audible moan as he hits that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. He fucks you slow and sweet, right there, until you can barely feel your face and your eyes roll back in your head. You jolt when he brushes the pads of his fingers against your clit, massaging the hardened nub until you’re practically screaming his name. That’s how you cum, with soft kisses, shaking in his lap. His hands are big as they cradle your ass. You shiver as he thrusts half-a-dozen more times before finishing, his head resting on your sternum, breath hot against the sweat-drenched skin.

You slump to your side, boneless and exhausted, relishing in the cool press of the sheets. He slumps with you, still buried in you, closer than you’ve ever been to another person. You could drown in the molten sweetness in his eyes, the deep caramel depths drawing you in until it’s all you can see. He kisses you until your lips feel puffy and bruised. When he slips out of you, you ignore the mess, beginning your slow progress as you slide to the edge of the bed. He doesn’t stop you, long limbs sprawled over the sheets of his bed like a Greek god in repose.

He lifts his head, eyes blinking blearily, sleepily as you collect your clothes, pulling on each piece methodically. 

“What are you doing?” 

You flush in embarrassment. “I’m heading home.” 

You can hear the rustle of the sheets as you pull the wrinkled fabric of your dress on. His hands are hot as he turns you around. You’re unbalanced, only one heel on as you look into his eyes.

“You could stay, you know?”

You shiver, tugging him into one final, soft kiss.

“I could. But I won’t.” You step into the final heel before turning around again. His hands are gentle as they tug the zipper on your dress up.

“I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

Bradley nods, curls bouncing, throat working as he looks you over. You’re trying to look at anything but him, not wanting the temptation of his lean, muscular body.

“Be safe.”

Your Uber home is quiet, tense. Half your heart, it seems, is left in that posh bedroom, wrapped in cool Egyptian cotton, drowning in whiskey eyes. Your sleep is just as disturbed. 

You wake in the morning sweetly sore and groggy. But you can’t focus on a mind-blowing fuck, not this morning. Warring with exhaustion this morning as you take a tram downtown are your nerves. You’re nervous. This is the job you’ve been working towards your whole life. Call it fascination from a lifetime of watching legal dramas combined with a love for arguing and here you are. Three years of law school at Stanford and near perfect exam scores and here you are. Standing in a richly appointed conference room with five other rookie law school graduates waiting for orientation to start on your first day.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Law Firm of Kazansky, Mitchell, and Bradshaw.”

Your head seems to fly up at the words, and at first, you’re not sure whether you’re still asleep or drunk out of your mind. Because your eyes have to be deceiving you. There is no way Bradley is standing in the conference room with you. He’s flanked by a tall flaxen-haired man with a cocky grin and a buxom brunette in the snazziest pantsuit you think you’ve ever seen.

“I’m Bradley Bradshaw, senior counsel at the firm. My specialty is contract law. With me are my colleagues and fellow senior counsel, Jake Seresin, with a speciality of criminal law, and Natasha Trace, with a speciality in corporate law. We’re going to be your mentors at the firm. Let’s get one thing clear. We ask you all to jump, you ask us how high. Work hard, and we’ll have you taking cases of your own in no time.”

You feel like your skin is crawling with each word and each elapsed minute. Your palms are sweaty and your heart is racing as you distractedly count each minute until you’re left in a barren corner of the office in front of two empty cubicles with your training partner, a sweet-hearted brunette with a labrador retriever’s friendly personality named, Miguel “call me Mickey” Garcia. He’s already digging deep into the files Bradley handed over while you take a short walk to Bradley’s corner office. It’s just your luck you’d ended up having the man whose bed you were in last night as your mentor. And it’s just your luck that the first file you’d picked up had a post-it note on it asking for you to come by when you could.

Almost all the shades are drawn when you knock.

“Come in.”

He holds one of those long fingers up as he finishes up the conversation he’s having on the phone. You feel like you’re seconds away from being fired with every insolent look he sends your way.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Bradshaw?”

He smirks then.

“Yeah, I did.” He shapes your full name with his pouty, kiss-bitten lips, lips you bit last night, as he looks over you.

“Obviously you know nobody can know what happened between us last night.”

“Yeah, obviously.” You wrap your arms around yourself, pretending not to notice how your body aches at the sight of him, for want of him. “So what do we do?”

“Nothing,” He leans forward with a grin. “I'm not sure what last night was like for you, but for me, it was just like any other. I met a passably pretty girl at a bar and took her home. She left in the early hours of the morning after a mediocre fuck. That's it.”

You can feel rage rising, cold and sharp enough that it occludes the edges of the bleeding wound he’s caused with a few callous words.

“Now, I'm your mentor and boss. Professionalism is everything to me. My mom is the best lawyer I know, and one of the partners. She can’t know I fucked up so prodigiously with one of our rookies. And I will do anything to make sure she never does.”

It’s obvious last night meant little to him, much less than it meant to you. You wanted to track him down tonight, wanted to see if he would want to go out with you again. Obviously that isn’t an option anymore.

“Enjoy the files. Let me know if you or Garcia see something I didn't see in them. That will be all.”

Your head is reeling when you walk away, and you're quiet, withdrawn. Garcia doesn’t notice how your skin crawls with every footstep walking past the door of your small office or how you flinch at every laugh and loud conversation. Last night you were a nervous professional, worried about the job but hopeful for your date to go well. Now you’re the rookie who slept with her boss. You're his dirty little secret and he's yours. Your career, your life, and everything you've ever worked for hangs in the balance.

Taglist:

@sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl @desert-fern @dakotakazansky

@teacupsandtopgun @cherrycola27 @chaoticassidy @kmc1989

@eloquentdreamer @redhope446

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[sillyhanako]

╭╯﹒pipo pipo electric sound ！！﹕

🍮﹒⪩⪨ ﹕dates scenarios with the bluck lock boys!

🍮﹒⪩⪨ ﹕STARRING : yukimiya kenyu, bachira meguru and alexis ness ♡ fluff!

🍮꒱﹒a/n﹒one of my best works! Im really proud of this one. Lmk if you want a second part >< contains smau in kenyu and bachira parts and contains soft launches in them all

ー﹕m.list﹐

୨୧ ㆍ  yukimiya kenyu

Today was one of Yukimiya's rare days off. He had just finished modeling for a big hit magazine, and his manager insisted that he take a day off to reward his hard work.

and how would he spend it? With his lover, of course! Lately, you both have been struggling to make time for each other, each busy with work or school. But today was conveniently a beautiful sunny day where everything just felt right—the breeze was gentle and the air fragrant with spring flowers. Yukimiya decided that this was the perfect moment for a sweet date.

At three thirty he knocked on your door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. You were surprised, and Yukimiya could barely see your face, not because of his blindness, but because of how big the bouquet was.

"You didn't have to..! ," you said with joy, unable to contain your excitement and gratitude. "I missed you," he replied softly, placing his gifts on the table and embracing you tightly, as if trying to merge your bodies.

You helped him take off his jacket and handed him a cup of water, engaging in casual conversation to relax after the ride.

"speaking of TikTok, I saw this cute little trend. Look!" You exclaimed, showing him a video of two couples painting each other's t-shirts and a blank dinosaur clay figure.

"I think we should definitely do that. I have spare t-shirts, and instead of clay figures, we can order tote bags. Are you in?" You looked at him with anticipation.

"Yeah sure why not? Should we make matching ones?" "Oh good idea! Ill get the fabric paint hold on-"

after digging for a good 30 minutes in house you finally got what you needed on your living room's table. You laid out your plain canvas bags and soft, white t-shirts like a blank canvas ready to receive your wildest ideas. As you started painting, yukimiya leaned over, his shoulder brushing against yours. “What do you think we should make first?” he asked, his voice playful, and your heart did that little flip it always did around him. You suggested matching sanrio designs— you chose Kiki and LaLa . “Perfect-!” he replied, already splattering some paint onto his shirt in excitement, totally unbothered by the mess you were about to create. You recommended using a starting sketch, so you pulled out your phones getting a clear picture of your character.

Time flew by as you discussed everything varrying from your favorite sanrio products to your dream travel destinations, each topic punctuated by bursts of laughter and playful shoving and thus losing sense of time and making way too many 'masterpieces' . You both decided that every little imperfection you painted was just part of the charm.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with soft hues of pink and orange, you stepped back to admire your creations. They weren’t just tote bags and t-shirts; they were memories smeared with laughter and love. You felt so grateful to have Yuki by your side—someone to share these memories with and made everyone one of them memorable.

“Okay, you know what we should do next? we should to model them!” you declared, striking a silly pose, and it was impossible not to giggle at how silly you looked. You put your new creations on, proudly showcasing your masterpieces, and snapped a few selfies, capturing the essence of the day.

kenyuki our beautiful mess <3 @.ynthediva

bachicha BRO ACTUALLY PULLS?????➜kenyuki Shut yo skin tone chicken bone google chrome no flip phone disowned ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadome genome full nlown monochrome student loan indiana jones overgrown flintstone x and y hormone friend zoned sylvester stallone fsierra leone autozone professionally seen silver patrone headass tf up ➜ynthediva CLOCKED. ➜ryu__shid GAGGED.

slursagi yall look lowk cute 😕 ➜ynthediva thanks 😙 ➜ynthediva WHAT IS THAT USERNAME ➜slursagi STOP IT WAS A DARE ➜ynthediva by who 😭 ➜slursagi that bitchless kurona.

karasuhq one slip up is all i need.. ➜kenyuki blocked. ➜hiyo_yo bro is like a dragon guarding his treasure 😭 pipe down ➜ninin._ninja talking like you pull any 💀😰 ➜hiyo_yo you failed 5th grade. ➜ninin._ninja im sorry sir

୨୧ ㆍ  bachira meguru

The sun was just beginning to dip behind the buildings as you stood outside the cinema, glancing at your watch, waiting for someone to show up. The flickering neon lights of the theater were a perfect backdrop for one of your favorite dates with your boyfriend bachira. Your heart raced with excitement as you wished for him to speed up just a little bit.

Just as you were about to check your phone, you heard his signature laugh—bright and infectious. Turning around, there he was, a ball of energy with his messy bee coloured hair and those big brown eyes that youve grown to love.

He zoomed toward you like he’d just spotted a prize in a carnival game, and before you knew it, he had looped an arm around your shoulders squeezing you in a hug.

“Hey! Ready for the movie?” he beamed, his enthusiasm almost tangible.

“Absolutely!” you replied, bouncing slightly on your toes trying to match his seemingly endless energy, seriously where does he get it from?

You approached the entrance, the lively crowd enhancing the thrill of the moment. Chatter filled the waiting room and after grabbing your tickets—he insisted on paying because the date was his idea—you headed to the concession stand.

“Okay, we need the largest popcorn they have. And candy! Which one should we get?” he declared as you stood before the colorful assortment of sweets.

“Hmm, gummy bears?” you suggested, but he shot you a look like you'd just suggested swimming in jelly.

“No way, we need chocolate! It’s a movie must-have!” He patted his chest as if making a proclamation.

You chuckled, and after a quick playful banter about whos the better movie must-have you settled on a massive bucket of honey popcorn and a couple of chocolate bars, and he practically wore a victorious grin as you made your way into the screening room.

Once inside, you found your seats—perfectly positioned in the middle of the theater. The dim lights illuminated the previews casting shadows across the room. Bachira flopped down beside you, as you couldn’t help but snicker watching his exaggerated excitement for the snacks, He lunged for the popcorn, shoving a handful into his mouth, claiming he couldnt wait to devour them, and thats probably going to make the both of you watch the rest of the movie without snacks. Fun.

“mhmff! 'his ish tha befsh parsh of tha 'ovie!"  he laughed with his mouth full and a buttery grin "wanth sum?" He offered you a handful of perfectly honeyed popcorn and you could resist the urge to say yes.

You settled in as the previews began to roll, the buzz of the theater fading into the background. He leaned close, whispering comments about the upcoming films, and you found yourself leaning into him, soaking up every moment of this somewhat messy date.

As the lights dimmed fully and the film began, you felt utterly content and couldnt ask for more. I mean your silly boyfriend AND a movie date?, surely you have the capability to muffle some giggles throughout the movie, right?

bachichan me and my skibidi rizzler yall vould NEVER 🤑🤑

leo._.reo how did bachira pull before me 😭 unbelievable ➜kingbarou the real question is how did he find someone that matched his freak bachichan yall just jealous 🤑🤑

➜redprincessa @ynthediva please reconsider and thank you 😊 ➜bachichan solve whatever shit you have between you and that ichigo wannabe 🤑🤑 ➜ku_.niga_.mi im gonna gorge your eyes out. ➜bachichan @redprincessa come get yo dog bih 😭😭

ynthediva the date was so fun 😊 exited for more! ➜bachichan glad to heart dat :DD hihuihihh ➜slurisagi why r u down bad bro ➜redprincessa that brotha gooone

➜aikou20 yoo my number xxx-xxx-xxx if u ever get tired from that schizo <33 ➜ynthediva arent you like 30 ➜aikou20 WHAT. ➜bachichan CLOCKEDDDD

୨୧ ㆍ  alexis ness

The sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting playful shadows across the flour-dusted countertop. You stood there, and besides you ness, apron tied snugly around your waists.

He carefully put the ingredients needed on the countertop and fetched the necessary kitchen tools . "Alright, we have everything ready, we can start now sweetheart ♡” Ness’s sweet voice and dimpled smile broke through the quiet atmosphere.

at ness's announcement you pressed the play button on your phone that started a relaxing melody. You rolled up your sleeves, and together you began measuring ingredients, flour flying, and playful banters. As you poured and stirred, he leaned in closer than necessary, your shoulders brushing.

"It hasnt even been long and i already made a mess.." you said defeatedly, apron full of flour and chocolate stains.

“but youre my mess.” he replied, his gaze softening as he caught your eye. You could feel your cheeks heat up, but you just shrugged it off with a smile. "I swear youre such a tease."

Before long, the oven was preheating and the dough was chilling. “Okay, next step — the bake,” you said, wiping your hands on your apron, feeling quite smug.

He looked at you with a sad puppy-dog expression. “i hope i wont be the cause that messed up the cookies... like the last time.. "

You couldn’t help but feel pity for him, remembering the charred remnants of what was supposed to be a masterful treat. “Hey, that just shows how dedicated you are to your art,” you teased, nudging him playfully. "And i still ate them, didnt i?"

As the sweet aroma began to fill the kitchen, you felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the oven. It was the way he wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for you, the way he didnt want to dissapoint you again. it was honestly admirable.

“Just wait until they come out of the oven. They’re going to be amazing just wait till you see!” you said, stealing a quick glance at him, trying to hype him up from his wet-cat mood.

“Not as amazing as you.."  he muttered quietly, but you fortunately catched it and you noticed the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Okay, flattery will get you everywhere,” you grinned, finally pulling the oven tray that contains now fresh and delicious looking cookies. you didnt miss the chance to shove a hot one to him.

"See? They look appetizing. And i bet theyre tasty too —" You tried one, forgeting it hasnt been even 5 minutes theyre out from the oven. yeah you got burned and got a panicked ness worrying.

alexisn3ss memories with my favourite person 😊💗

anriiiii looks delicious 😮 mind if i get a taste? 🎀 ➜ynthediva yess!! Of course!!! ➜alexisn3ss no go make your own 😊

charliesthebaddie NOOOO who wants to make heart shaped cookies w me 😔😔😔 ➜shidoxox dw i gotchu bro ➜charliesthebaddie bro... 😢

redprincessa i smell wife material 👃 ➜slurisagi from who tho ➜redprincessa alex ➜alexisn3ss call me that again and your acls r gone ➜redprincessa YOU DID NTO ➜ynthediva what do i even say to this 😭 ate or be nice 💔 ➜redprincessa so now ur doubting wether to back me up or not 😒 i thought we had sum smh ➜ynthediva NO PLS I STILL NEED TO KNOW YOUR HAIR CARE ROUTINE

© 2025 sillyhanako ━ do not copy, steal, or reupload my works. Thanks!

[vulpixisananimal]

[A:2 C:4]

(Key time!)

(You open the door leading to the next floor. There were some stairs leading up, the smell of sugar growing a little stronger. Once you could see over the top of the stairs, you saw a large sadness blocking the way!)

“A sadness!!” (Mirabelle exclaims, you all run up to a few feet in front of it.)

“It seems to be guarding the rest of the house from us.” (Odile squinted at the sadness.)

“It feels strong, way stronger than any of the others!!” (Bonnie held their new wok in both hands, standing back.)

“Get ready, everyone!!!” (Isabeau took a stance.)

(Boss time!!)

(You snap your fingers and hold out your craft sign, [Make up the time]! Thin tendrils of craft energy radiate from your scissors sign and wash over you and your allies legs. You and your allies' speed increased!)

“Big ball head.”

“BIG BALL HEAD!!”

“Wait, something’s happening!” (Mirabelle paused her attack, a scissors sign flashed on the ball.) “Was that. . .”

“Scissors sign, huh?” (Isabeau squints.) “Does it mean something?”

“Well we can probably assume that’s its current craft type.” (Odile gives you a cheeky look.) “If you ever need a reminder which one it is, Siffrin, just ask.”

(Great, thanks Odile. Mirabelle holds out her signs and little discs of light encircled you and the others, boosting your strength!)

“Guess it’s my time to shine then!” (Isabeau dashed in, craft energy crackling around his fists as he [SMASH!!]ed the big boss sadness. Odile followed up with her own craft skill, [Rock III]).

(You smirk, this was gonna be easy.)

>>>

“Welcome back, Stardust! How can I help you on this wonderful new loop~”

(Well that was embarrassing, stars. . . You lost track of the craft type about halfway through the fight, and didn’t want to bother Odile for a reminder. You tried fighting it, got hit wrong, and it just snowballed into, well. . . Well, you were back again. So, questions. . . Questions. . .)

“How come I can see where the keys are?”

“Whaaaaaat? You caaaaaaan? How can that beeeeeeee~?” (Loop giggled behind their hand.)

(You squint.) “Is it, thanks to you?”

“Maybe~ I figured you already had so much to remember, you don’t need to worry about where a silly little key is.” (They lean in close, head resting on hands.) “No need to thank me~”

(You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh.) “Are you getting on my nerves on purpose?”

“Yes, I actually manufactured this personality especially to get on your nerves, stardust!”

(Great. You shake your head. They were doing a really good job.)

“Anything else I can help you with, Stardust~?”

(Questions, questions. . .) “Do you think I could eat some of the frozen food in the house?”

“Oh I don’t know, how about you go and find out~!” (They giggle, then tilt their head.) “Why, getting hungry while saving the world?”

(Um. . .) “Maybe? I always wanted to try crab.”

“Crab?!?! Oh my STARDUST!! Don’t let your little housemaiden hear you saying things like that!!! Just WHAT will she say!!”

(Right. . .) “I’m just curious. . .”

“Don’t worry Stardust, I’m sure your little cook has quite the meal prepared for you!”

(Yeah, you bet.)

>>>

“Just a little more!!” (Mirabelle shouted as you dashed in and slashed with your dagger.) “I-I think we nearly beat it!!”

(Take two against the big ball head, and this time you didn’t get distracted. You weaved back jus in time to dodge its counterattack.)

“GO GO GO SIF GO!!!!!” ([YOUR TURN!!] You hear Isabeau shout, heh, you were about to end this, you held out your scissors sign and wispy slashes appeared across the sadness.)

(Jackpot!! You all take the moment and charge, and in one coordinated blow, the sadness is sliced into dozens of little pieces. You stumble back, panting, and then, you breathe in, and out.)

“CRAB YEAH!!!” (Bonnie cheered.) 

“We did it. . . !”

“Alright, let’s keep moving.”

(Adrenaline was rushing through your veins like white hot iron. Your heart buzzed, your legs twitched, ready to chase down whatever was next. No, calm down, stars Siffrin get ahold of yourself. You shake your head clear, and step forward. Leading the charge.)

>>>

“Okay, who wants snacks? I have SNACKS!!!!” (Bonnie ran over excitedly.) “Today, I have many snacks at your disposal. I have. . . Some PLANTAIN CHIPS!!!!”

(Bonnie presents a bundle of chips.)

“Oooh, did you use the last of those not-bananas to make them?” (Mirabelle asks.)

“Yes. Yes I did.” (Bonnie grinned.) “Crunchy. Delicious. And full of potassium. That's plantain chips!!!”

(You all clap. You never really like plantains, but they looked nice.)

“Second snack is. . . Some boring but delicious cookies!!!”

“Great sales pitch, Bonbon.” (Isabeau chuckles.) “Boring but delicious. Cookies, the taste of home.”

(Bonnie squinted at him.) “What kinda home is boring but delicious? Za, you're weird.”

(Isa just coughed into a hand. The cookies looked. . . Okay? You could smell the chocolate from here though, and it was tempting.)

“And for our third and final snack, we are proud to present. . . Some, uh. . . O-gi-ni-ri.”

“Onigiri.” (Odile corrects.)

“O-ri-ni-gi.”

“Onigiri.”

“Onion-geeree.”

“You messed that one up on purpose.”

“Yes!!!!!” (Bonnie cheekily laughed.) “I made a bunch, AND ‘Frin can have ‘em!!”

“Did you add some ‘Frin-compatible surprise then?” (Isabeau smiled.) “How thoughtful! You can eat rice, right, Sif?”

(You nod.) “Mhm, it’s not really filling, though. I think. “

“It’s not nutritious, but you can eat it without intestinal issues?” (Odile suggests. You nod.) “Fascinating. That opens up quite a few meal ideas, right, Boniface?”

(The kid cheered.) “YEAH!! Rice. I. Love. Rice.”

“You and every other kid on this planet, Boniface.”

(It’s nice that Bonnie looked out for you so much, even at what was maybe the end of the country. All the snacks looked delicious!)

“Now it’s time!!! To!!! Choose!!!” (Bonnie pumps their fists up excitedly.) 

“I’d love some Onigiri, Bonnie.” (You ask politely. Bonnie puts a few in your hand.)

“Here!! You!!! Go!!!”

(You open your mouth, about to take a bite, but pause. Sniff, sniff. . .) “. . . Beeeeef?”

“YEAH!!!” (Bonnie looks excited.) “I remember ‘Dile put a plum in there before but I wanted you to have some so I tried it with beef!!”

“How. . . Interesting.” (Odile looks suspiciously at the onigiri.)

(You take a bite. The rice dissolves in your mouth, and as soon as you hit the beef at the center you feel your shoulders relax. So, SO tasty!!)

“Is it good” (Bonnie looks at you all expectantly.)

(There’s a long pause. Odile is very good at hiding her expression.) “. . . . . . . .”

“. . . It’s okay ‘Dile, I know you’re old and not the biggest fan of change so! I made you a plum one!!”

“. . . Thank you.” (Odile takes the onigiri.)

(You gobble up the onigiri, savoring every last bite. You close your eye for a second, savoring it.)

“. . . S-so did you like it? Did I do good as snack leader?” (Bonnie has big shining eyes. You nod.)

“Yeah, this is good.”

“Mhm!”

“. . . . . . . .”

(. . . . . . . Oh no. DON’T MAKE BONNIE SAD!!!) “THANK YOU SNACK LEADER FOR THIS SUPER DELICIOUS MEAL!!!”

“SOOOO GOOOOD!!!!! Thank you Bonnie!!!!!!”

“I feel so ALIVE!!! THANK you Bonnie!!”

“. . . . . .” (Odile took a second.) “. . . Mm, good food, yum yum.”

“. . . Yesssss!!!”

(You take your time, finishing up your onigiri. It tasted so, so good but you were still hungry. Less hungry, now, but still hungry. But, that’s a later problem. You lay back for a moment, just take a second, then check in with everyone, then onwards and upwards.)

>>>

(Second floor!)

(You had just investigated the gardening room, and before that met a housemaiden frozen in time. Mirabelle had a bit of a moment, but, you had to continue. If you wanted to unfreeze them, you have to beat the King, after all. And each step through the halls brought you closer and closer to that goal.)

(The hall turned to the right, with a door on the wall in front of the turn. Well, in you go!)

“O-oh! It’s the Head Housemaidens office!” (Mirabelle jumps in.) 

“Someone like her definitely has some good stuff, right? Like keys! Or snacks!!!”

“Or information. Let's look around.”

(You do just that, big desk first. You open the drawers and start rummaging around, listening to your party as you look.)

(The Head Housemaiden. In charge of, well, everything here. Makes sure everyone’s happy, everyone’s healthy, that the kids get educated, houses get repaired, organising events, all of it. All on her shoulders, and on top of that is great at crafts too! Stars, you could never imagine doing something that complicated. The Head Housemaiden was supposed to defeat the King, too, but. . .)

(There’s nothing in the drawer, annoying, keep looking, there’s a childs drawings of the Head Housemaiden, random notes, a closet, bookshelf, not much. There’s some notes posted to the wall about the King.)

(Odile glances at Mirabelle.) “Why do you even call the King "the King"? Vaugarde isn't a monarchy. Isn't "King" just a title he chose?

“Yes, but he chose it. . .” (Mira says a bit awkwardly.) “Calling him something else would just be rude?”

“Yeah, that's just basic manners.” (Isabeau adds, Odile just lets it go.)

(Continuing around the room, there’s a pile of neatly sorted papers. Looking through them, there seems to be a bit of everything in here. A petition to serve more bread at lunch, notes about some recurring dream, a cheesy, mushy love letter. . . No, nothing here.)

(Welp, that was pointless. You lead the rest of the party out.)

(As you go to continue down the hall, the hairs on your neck stand up on end. You turn just in time to see a giant boulder crash down in front of the Head Housemaidens office. Blocking it off.)

“. . .”

“. . .”

“. . . There was nothing important in there, right? So this is fine?”

(Yeah, it should be fine. You lead the party on. Just a few meters down the hall sat a heavy metal door. You try the handle; locked.)

“. . . Sucks.” (You look back.) “Any idea where the key could be, Mira?”

“I’m, not sure. . .” (Mirabelle thinks, tapping her chin.) “It. . . Could. . . O-oh no.”

“Uh oh?” (Bonnie says in a questioning tone.)

“I-I, I think, I-I think it was in the head housemaiden office.”

“Uh oh!!!”

“Urgh. . .”

“I'm sorry!!! I'm sorry!!! I should've remembered, why didn't I remember!!”

“Hey, don't worry about it, Mira.” (Isabeau pat her shoulder.)

“Yes, you're not to blame here. If anything, it's Siffrin's job to look out for things.” (Odile glances at you.) 

(Hey. . .)

(You step away from the door, the others were already spitballing on how to get passed the door or the rock, what to do. . .)

(You hear a chime in your ear. Wh-)

[Hey stardust! Sorry to interrupt, but I am here in your head to beam you some amazing advice~ Did you hear that chime just now? That’s there to inform you that you are stuck in time! No matter what, you won't be able to progress further in the House in this loop.]

[Only thing you can do is find a way to loop back. Woopsies! Say, didn't you see some tears on the way here? That could work~ (Also come say hi sometime! I'm so lonely. . . Sob sob. . . Do you feel sorry for me yet. . ?)]

(. . . Great! Thanks, Loop. You look around, the others are still discussing what to do, and you could explore the rest of the house, but. . . No, looping time. While they’re distracted, you walk over to the tear and reach out.)“. . . Siffrin? What’re you-” (Mirabelle reacts too late, you touch the tear.)

[thehandmaidenofcreativity]

that time I got kidnapped by hot vampires

WC: 12.3K; Rating: 18+

Summary: You're out walking late one night when you realize someone is following you… each choice you make leads you to your vampire soulmate.

Comments: After doing this youtube choose-your-own-adventure game, I decided to turn my responses into a full story. As such, some of the plot choices might seem odd, but I stayed true to the original author's storyline and my random choices. That said, you should 100% go play yourself, it's a good time. Also, it feels worth mentioning that the number of times my beta reader questioned homegirl's intelligence was comical, at least over 5.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

You knew you should’ve just stayed home. You knew it. 

Someone is definitely following you. You crossed the street twice and changed directions once to check. When you catch a glimpse of the shadow, you’re sure it’s a man. Luckily, the convenience store is just a couple meters away. You’ll be safe in there and will call a cab to get home.

The sigh of relief dies on your lips when you pull at the locked door. Just then, the lights flicker; you feel that he’s right behind you. You could handle this a couple different ways, but your scrambled brain tells you that flirting is the best option. Stupid.

“Hey there,” you turn with a smile, ready to bat your eyes; before you can say or do anything else, he’s got you. He wraps an arm around your torso while pressing a slightly sweet smelling cloth over your mouth and nose. Despite your efforts at a struggle, he holds tight, clearly way stronger than you. 

Next thing you know, you’re waking up on the floor of a seemingly abandoned warehouse. Disoriented, you look up into the face of the man lightly tapping on the side of your face. Something must be wrong with you, because instead of screaming, crying, fighting, doing literally anything that the situation warrants, you smile and murmur, “You’re so hot.”

He raises an eyebrow and gives you a fox-like smile. When you hear footsteps, his expression hardens. “Apologies for making your acquaintance this way, but my king commands that we bring you to him.”

More alert now, you start to panic. “Excuse me? Where am I? What king? You’re not taking me anywhere!”

“Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice in this matter, miss.” He doesn’t look particularly sorry. “It’s best if you don’t resist. I’d hate to have to drug you again. Makes the blood taste funny.”

“Makes the blood…” You trail off when he smiles, no, bares his teeth. His canines are abnormally long and sharp. The rest of his words catch up to you and your panic resurges. You scramble back as the tears start flowing and you start screaming, pleading with him to leave you alone, let you go.

Your head snaps up when you see another person walk up behind the… vampire? He takes a menacing step toward you and snarls, “Shut up, or I’m going to snap your neck.”

“Ji, that’s not gonna help.” The first guy snaps. 

He’s kind of wrong, though, because the threat does stop your tears. You sit, eyes wide, mouth agape. ‘Ji’ tongues at one of his fangs. You feel like you’re going crazy. “Please… just tell me what’s going on.”

Fox-smile guy kneels in front of you. “King Seo Changbin, along with several other powerful vampires, has discovered that you come from a very unique bloodline that was thought to have ended a few decades ago. If these other vampires get hold of you, they will drain you to amass power and gain dominion over us, humans, everyone.”

“Yes, yes,” Ji interrupts, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet. He drags you out the door and toward a waiting van. He throws open the door and shoves you inside. “So we’re taking you before they can.”

You are so shocked and confused, you don’t even think to try screaming again. When both men, no vampires, get in and start driving, you regain your ability to speak. “What do you mean you decided to take me first? Are you going to, going to drain me? Where are we going? What are you going to do to me?”

Those questions and more go unanswered. Ji turns up the rock music on the radio to drown you out. They don’t speak at all the entirety of the drive. After what feels like too short a drive, you arrive at this absolutely horrifying castle, straight out of a gothic novel. You’re confused at how this enormous monstrosity could be so close to the city until you remember you’d been knocked out before being taken to that warehouse, so you really have no idea how far from home you are. 

You’re ushered out of the van and see yet another unfamiliar man, this one taller and a little more imposing than the other two, with short, black hair and a slit through his eyebrow. As you approach, he gives you a smile, as if you chose to come and should be happy to be here greeting him. As if you understand anything about what’s happening right now. You look at his fangy smile and roll your eyes. 

The mirth disappears from his face in an instant, his eyes flashing red. Before you can even blink, his large hand is wrapped around your throat, and he slams you into the wall beside him. “You humans lack proper manners.”

You couldn’t respond if you wanted to, your hands pulling at his fingers and wrist in a feeble attempt to free yourself. Then he’s being wrenched away from you, thrown to the ground by a furious looking Ji. “Changbin’s orders were clear. No harm is to come to her. Jeongin, take her inside. Now.”

You’re so busy gulping down air, it doesn’t occur to you to do anything but follow as Jeongin guides you with a light touch to the small of your back. The inside of the castle is just as creepy as the outside. You meet yet another tall, beautiful man in the foyer.

“Welcome,” he gives you a closed mouth smile, which is a small kindness that makes you feel like maybe he’s okay. Then you notice the dry blood along the curve of his jaw and shudder. “Follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

He leads you up the stairs, bringing you to a room in the middle of the hall. He opens the door, and you’re pretty sure a puff of dust flows out. You peer into the room, noting the cobwebs stretching between each piece of furniture. The only color in the room is the blanket on the twin bed and the velvet lining of the open, child-size coffin sitting in front of it. The walls are covered in antique picture frames housing the kind of paintings you see in a horror film, all the subjects pale, gaunt, and somber with eyes that will almost definitely follow you around. 

The vampire gently pulls you into the room by the elbow, almost succeeding in covering his look of disdain as he takes in the room himself. You’re still shaken by your experience outside, but decide it’s worth the risk to ask a question, considering there’s apparently an order not to hurt you. Still, your voice comes out small and shaky. “What’s going to happen to me?”

His eyes flit down to your neck briefly, a frown darkening his lovely features. “I wish I knew. Try to get a good night’s sleep.” With that he turns on his heel and stalks out of the room, closing the door behind him. You can hear the lock click.

You turn back around and try not to cry. It doesn’t really work. At least the bed doesn’t look too dusty. You brush it off the best you can as the tears stream down your cheeks and take a seat, your back against the wall. The longer you sit, the harder it is to stop the flood. When your door opens a crack, a broom falls in before it’s closed and locked again. 

The dam breaks. You sob, and sob, and sob, until the sunlight is peeking through the moth-eaten curtains and exhaustion overtakes you.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

By the time you wake, it’s well past midday. You can feel the puffiness of your eyes, and your throat is scratchy. You pad over to the door and, unsurprisingly, it’s still locked. You pick up the broom and drag it along as you wander to the other two doors in the room. The first is a closet, so dark and dank you don’t even want to step into it. The ensuite bathroom isn’t much better; you finally have a reason to be happy that you don’t drink nearly enough water, because the thought of using it is five times worse when you realize there isn’t any toilet paper.

You consider the broom in your hand and drop it, climbing back into your same spot on the bed. You wonder how long you’ll have to stay in this room, how long you’ll even be alive. Somehow your eyes begin to fill again, apparently not as dehydrated as your night of crying led you to believe. 

You just sit for hours, your mind oscillating between panic and delusion. Finally, finally you hear movement outside the door, just after the sun has set. When it opens, a young woman walks in holding a tray. You see the man who choked you lingering by the door. Any thought of trying to get past her and run away dies at the sight of him. 

You try not to flinch away when the woman draws closer. She sets the tray on the bed with a small nod. On her way back to the door, she picks up the broom and glances around at all the dust and cobwebs. She walks out as quickly and quietly as she came, and once again you’re alone in a locked room. 

You remind yourself that there are orders not to harm you as you eye at the cloche and glass of water on the tray. Then you figure at least if it’s poison or drugged you won’t be aware when the vampires tear into you. 

When you lift the cloche, you find a simple omelette, breakfast potatoes, and a couple slices of bacon. It’s as if you’re at a nice hotel, getting free room service. If you take away the cobwebs, coffin, dirt and grime, and the whole being-held-against-your-will thing. The food is lovely, too. You’re glad you chose to eat it rather than just starving in pointless protest. 

And then you resume your vigil. Luckily the tears have finally stopped flowing, and anger and boredom work their way into your cycling thoughts and emotions. After what you judge to be between three and four hours, you’re actually nodding off when your door opens again. Your head snaps up to see the young woman again. She stays at the door this time, and beckons you. Your eyes search the hall behind her, but you don’t see any of the men.

“Please follow me.” She speaks softly but with authority. “It’s time for you to meet the king, but I must make you presentable first.”

While you’re not particularly interested in meeting the king, you cannot wait to get out of this room. You approach her slowly, nervous, but sure that you could take her if you need to. Unless she’s a vampire, too. Do vampires employ humans? 

Your relief at leaving the room is short-lived when you see Jeongin at the end of the hall. She only takes you one room over, anyway. This room, however, is much larger, brighter, and best of all cleaner. She leads you directly into the ensuite where a full bathtub awaits, steaming and smelling slightly floral. You worry that you’ll cry again at the sight. 

You’ve never had another person bathe you, as an adult at least, but the woman insists on helping you. You don’t have it in you to fight. Myrna, she says you can call her, scrubs you clean, brushes out your hair, and moisturizes your entire body. It’s uncomfortable, but she moves with such purpose, it feels right to let it happen. You feel like a lady of a great house in the distant past. 

Wrapped in a fluffy towel, Myrna brings you back into the room where a rack of ball gowns has materialized. “You must choose one, then we can decide on your jewelry and makeup.”

They’re all gorgeous, but you’re drawn to a black, strapless one. As you move to pull it off the wrack, Myrna clears her throat. You release it, turning back to her. 

“Forgive me, but I do have a suggestion.” She drifts over to the other end of the rack. The pink gown is lacey and beautiful. It doesn’t really say ‘time to meet the vampire king,’ though. “While his majesty does tend to favor dark colors in his own wardrobe and decor, he often chooses pink when the occasion calls for a color.”

You don’t know if you want to impress the king, but Myrna has been sweet to you, and the dress is breathtaking. You allow her to help you into it before bringing you over to a vanity. She pulls out a beautiful set of spinel earrings with a matching necklace. The gems are a lovely shade of pink that match the gown almost exactly. Your makeup consists of soft pinks as well, pulling the whole look together. When you slip into the kitten heels that somehow fit perfectly, you’re ready and feel like a princess.

Myrna takes you down to the dining room, bringing you right in to the end of a long table. The four men you’ve already encountered are sitting on either side with three others among them. Another at the head of the table, a gleaming black crown nestled atop his blue locks. 

You realize you’re staring when Myrna clears her throat and taps your hand. She is sunk into a curtsey, and the period romances you’ve read tell you that she’ll remain that way until you curtsey as well so that the king will tell you both to rise. Not wanting to alienate your one ally in this place, you follow her lead, doing your best to imitate her and praying you don’t manage to lose your balance.

You straighten up when she does and look around the room again. You realize that Ji hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you entered the room. Myrna gestures to the only open seat at the table. As soon as you sit, she curtseys again and leaves the room. It’s not until she’s gone that you realize how comfortable her presence made you. Now the panic is flooding back in and you fear you’re about to start hyperventilating. The man on your left whispers “just take deep breaths.”

Ji, who is seated across from you taps the table in front of your place setting. “Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Han Jisung.”

Ah, so Ji is just a nickname, you think, nodding at him with the smallest of smiles. 

He gestures to the man next to him and so on, naming them all other than the king. “Lee Minho, Lee Felix. You met Yang Jeongin, Hwang Hyunjin, and Kim Seungmin earlier.”

“And I’m Bang Chan,” said the one who reminded you to breathe.

You nod at each name, unsure if it’s worth it to try to commit them to memory. If you do have to stay here, you resolve to stay away from Seungmin if you can. Your hand drifts up to touch your neck at the thought. Jisung’s eyes track the movement.

“Welcome.” King Seo Changbin’s voice is kind of low, but clear and powerful. “I know the circumstances of your arrival at my court are less than pleasant, but this is the beginning of a new era for us. Your blood is the key to power in vampirism, and with it, we will achieve dominion over the entire world. You will keep us strong.”

World domination? Using your blood? It might be suicidal, but you can’t stay silent any more; this is madness. “You can’t just kidnap people, because you think you can use them! It’s not okay! It’s wrong!” You shoot to your feet, shoving at the table as you do. 

Chan, Jisung, and Seungmin all move to stand as well, but settle back in their chairs when Changbin raises his hand. “I understand where you’re coming from, but we couldn’t wait. There are other vampires who are after you. I wanted to approach you differently, but when our spies found that a rebel group intended to take you tonight, we had to move immediately.”

Your eyes go wide at that. A rebel group was going to take me?

“Your blood gives power, but not to all. They planned to kill you in an attempt to level the playing field. While simply taking you was wrong, it was for your protection. And we need you to ensure our victory. If my house were to fall, the world as you know it would change. There’s a reason most humans think we are nothing but tall tales. Your kind would face enslavement if any number of the nobel houses took the throne.”

You slump back down into your seat. When you’re not freaking out, you generally think you read people well. Based on what you’ve heard and experienced so far, you don’t think he’s lying to you. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

“Just like that?” Minho narrows his eyes at you. “No more, this is wrong; you’re just going to let us feed off of you no questions asked?”

Though he’s the only one to speak, you see the distrust in all eight of their faces. Before you can string together coherent reasoning to give him, the king speaks again. “Thank you. Considering the situation, I’m sure you’ll understand that we can’t simply take you at your word. Until you have gained my trust, you will be given free reign of the castle, but one of my men will accompany you at all times that you are outside of your quarters.”

“I understand.”

“Wonderful.” Changbin gestures to a servant that you’ve only just noticed. “Let us eat, then.”

Servants deliver plates of food to each of you and fill your glass with red wine. The other glasses are filled with blood. You try not to stare as a few of them pick the glasses up immediately to take a sip. You decide to keep your eyes on your plate and wonder about the fact that they all appear to be eating the same food as you in addition to the blood. Do they still need to eat food or are they doing it to humor you? 

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

After dinner, you’re escorted back to the room you got ready in. The clothes you wore the night before have been cleaned and laid out on the bed for you. Myrna helps you out of your dress before disappearing out the door. You change and wander around the room. There are clothes in the drawers and closet that appear to be your size. The vanity and bathroom house a number of products. Overall, this is a major upgrade. You wonder why you weren’t given this room right away, if the other room was meant to stress you out so you’d be more exhausted by the time you sat down to dinner.

Your exploration did not take long, so you hope to expand beyond your own space and see more of the castle. You tentatively grip the door handle, not entirely convinced that it will be unlocked, but it turns easily. You pull it open to find Seungmin leaning against the wall right across from you. You resist the urge to sigh or roll your eyes. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” he straightens up and takes a step toward you. He doesn’t sound kind, but at least he doesn’t sound angry either. “You’ll be supervised when you leave your quarters, remember?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and lower your eyes. Unconsciously, you rest a hand against your neck. “I remember.”

“I,” he clears his throat, and you glance back up at his face. “I apologize for hurting you. I should not have lost my temper like that. Now. Where would you like to go?”

“Thank you.” A little blush colors your cheeks. You hadn’t expected an apology. “I don’t know what all there is to see. Maybe… is there a library?”

Instead of answering, he starts off down the hall, leaving you to scramble after him. 

And this is how it goes over the next couple weeks. You wake up, get served breakfast in your room, go to the library, get dressed up for dinner, Seungmin takes you to a new part of the castle, and you get taken back to your room where you’re locked for the night. You suppose you’ve gotten closest to Seungmin. He is the one who ‘supervises’ you the most. The others rotate in as well, other than the king, but Seungmin is with you at least once every day. You wouldn’t say you’ve become friends or anything, you don’t even really talk to each other, but he is patient with you, and if you hadn’t already experienced that angry, violent side of him, you wouldn’t believe it exists. 

For the past few days, you haven’t seen Myrna or any of the other staff. The men bring you your meals and fetch you for dinner. At the end of the second week, you make a decision. If you’re going to live here with possibly no other company, you need to start getting to know these vampires.

The next night, when Jeongin takes you to the library, you decide to start with him. “Can I ask you a question?”

His eyes search your face before he smiles mischievously. “Only one?”

Your cheeks flush, thinking back to that first night when you kept crying and yelling questions at him. “Well maybe more than one, if you don’t mind.”

He walks over to the plush couch and armchairs set in front of the fireplace and settles into one. You sit beside him in the other chair rather than on the couch across from him, wanting to have the option to turn to face forward and not look at him when you get too nervous. He nods his head and waits. 

You’ve thought a lot about what you might ask them when given the chance. There are so many things that don’t make sense to you. Rather than taking it slow and starting small, what spills from your lips is, “Why haven’t any of you tried to drink my blood yet?”

He laughs. “Can’t wait to get bitten?”

“That’s– that’s not what I– I mean–”

“I’m teasing, chill.” He comes to stand in front of you. He drags a long finger down the column of your neck when you try not to tremble. “We are anxious to see just how your blood will affect us, but we agreed to take some time to do additional research. Plus, we wanted to give you a little time to adjust to us first. We know this is a lot for you.”

He returns to his chair and looks at you thoughtfully. “And personally, fear sours the blood a bit too much for my taste.”

“You can taste that I’m afraid?”

“If I were to drink from you, I would be able to, yes.”

You ruminate on that. “Can you taste other emotions, too? How long can you go between... feedings?”

Jeongin explains that anger gives blood a more bitter taste, happiness is sweet, arousal is a little spicy. You try not to think too much about that last one. He takes the time to teach you other things about vampires as well. Nothing too specific about the vampires of this castle, but generals about vampirism to balance out your ignorance and assumptions. Every time Jeongin escorts you, you try to have another question ready. He’s easy to talk to, and with those dimples and that smile, you think you’re actually starting to develop a little crush on him. 

You start to get used to all of them. If there’s one you struggle with most, it’s Hyunjin. He’s the most standoffish with you, not particularly tolerant of your questions, and he starts escorting you less and less. 

A week or so after your first lesson in vampirism, Jisung decides to give you a practical example. He sets the food tray on the small dining table in your room. Rather than leaving right away, he comes over and plops down onto your bed where you’re absorbed in your novel. You jump when his weight hits the bed, but you find you’re not upset by his proximity. 

You notice that his dark eyes have taken on a reddish hue. Thanks to Jeongin, you know this means that he’s hungry. His smile feels wicked when your eyes catch on his fangs, which seem slightly larger than usual.

“You’re becoming more comfortable here with us, yes?” He questions, not bothering to look away from your neck where you’re pretty confident he can see your pulse thumping. 

“Um, yes,” you admit. You’re scared, but you realize that learning so much about vampires has also made you curious. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable, per se, but I’m getting there.”

“Innie tells me that he’s explained a few things to you.” He sits up and shifts closer to you. “Do you know what I’m thinking about now?”

You hope he can’t tell that you’ve started sweating. “You’re hungry.” Your tone goes up just a little at the end, as if you might be asking rather than making a statement.

“Correct. And you’re going to help me with that today.” Also not a question but you steel yourself and nod. “Good girl.”

He pulls you closer to him and licks your neck, shocking you a little. While your mind is on that confusion, he sinks his teeth in. You can’t help but yelp and try to push him away, even though you agreed to this. After the initial pain of the bite, it actually feels alright. You wouldn’t say it feels good, but it’s not the most unpleasant sensation. 

After about thirty seconds, you start to shift and try to push him away again. He pulls back, licking over the marks. You’re happy that he listened to your silent request, but when you look into his eyes, they’re blood red. 

“I’m not done yet, pretty.”

Before you can move more than an inch, he’s on you, pushing you onto your back, wrists pinned above your head by one of his hands. He noses his way from your shoulder up into your hair. When you start to ask how much more he’ll take, he cuts you off.

“Don’t worry, I like a little sourness.” He smirks up at you then pulls the collar of your shirt aside. You try to jerk away, but his teeth have already latched onto the skin just above your collarbone. All your movement managed to do was tear your skin a bit more under his mouth, causing a bolt of pain to shoot through you. 

You try to contain your panic, knowing there’s really nothing you can do besides lay there and wait until he’s done. When he finishes a minute or so later, he licks over the wounds again. He nips at your chin, playfully, not really biting, and then he’s gone. You rush to the vanity, but you can barely see anything. There’s no blood or puncture wounds. If it weren’t for the food on the table and the red marks on your wrists where he held you, you’d think you dreamt it. 

At dinner that night, you take your customary seat next to Chan. When Jisung drops into the chair across from you with a smarmy grin. You hear a scoff from further down the table, but you’re not sure who it came from. 

“So,” Chan ventures with a sweet smile at you. “I hear you allowed Jisungie to feed. How are you feeling?”

Your cheeks burn for some reason. In your periphery, you see Minho, Felix and Jeongin’s heads turn toward you. “Um, yes. I feel fine, thank you.” 

“I was wondering if you’d allow me to tonight as well.” 

You look into his eyes and notice he has the same red gleam in them that Jisung had. You give a small nod and watch his smile widen. 

“In that case,” Minho starts, but Changbin interrupts him. 

“Minho, you know better.” He gives him a stern look. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you all that now that she’s been bled, she’ll need time to recover between our feedings.”

Minho pouts but nods his head. 

“If I need time, should Chan wait?”

You can tell the king is pleased that you chose to ask him. “Jisung assures me that he didn’t take too much, and since it was your first time, you should be alright. In addition to the enhancement you provide us, your blood should regenerate at a higher rate than a regular human.”

“‘Should’ being the operative word.” Hyunjin chimes in. “Allowing Chan to feed will also give us a chance to study your body’s response as well.”

“Hyunjin.” The king’s voice is stern. 

“Apologies, sire.” 

If his intent was to scare you, he needn’t have bothered. Despite having said yes to Chan, you were already extremely nervous about it. 

After dinner Chan is the one to escort you back to your room. He enters it with you and takes your hand, leading you to the bed. He pats your hand as you sit side by side. “You will be fine. Hyunjin’s just nervous.” 

“He’s nervous?” You almost shriek. “He’s not the one who could die from blood loss. Oh but if I die before he gets a taste, he’ll be upset, I’m sure.”

Chan grimaces. “It’s not like that, I promise. And if you really don’t feel well, just tell me, and I’ll stop. Or if you’re that uncomfortable, I don’t have to tonight.”

It would help if he weren’t so sweet and accommodating. Even knowing he’s a blood sucking monster that’s holding you against your will doesn’t stop you from feeling safe with him. You examine the red in his irises again. You sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

You struggle to hold back a smile when he claps while doing a little happy dance. He rearranges the pillows against the headboard, and you let out a little gasp when he pulls you into his lap and settles his back on them. 

“Do you have a preference for where I bite?”

You hadn’t really thought about it, assuming you wouldn’t be given a choice. “I guess just wherever is most comfortable?”

“I know this can be,” he hesitates. “Scary, but I’ll do my best to make it quick.”

He cups your cheek before tilting your head so that your face is buried in his neck rather than the other way around. When you try to lift your head up to look at him, he holds it down, telling you that you’ll feel better if you don’t watch. So you just breathe in his clean scent as he lifts your wrist to his mouth, pressing a couple kisses to it before you feel the slight pinch. 

He drinks for a minute or so, like Jisung did, and when he stops he licks over your skin as well. He kisses your wrist once more, then turns to kiss your forehead before sliding you off his lap onto the bed. “All done. Stay here while I get you some water and a smoothie.”

The smoothie is really good until he tells you that it also contains beef liver. You’re happy he told you the truth, but at the same time you would’ve been much happier thinking it was just chocolate. Apparently they’ve determined that it is to become an important part of your already iron-rich diet. 

You feel a little dizzy still when you try to get up to go exploring today, so you opt to stay in bed. Rather, you decide not to argue when Hyunjin insists you get back in bed after seeing you stumble at your door. He brings you a hot chocolate, no liver powder this time, and a book from the library. You happily realize that it’s one you’ve been meaning to read for a while, but he quietly slips out of the room before you can thank him.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Five days pass before Chan announces at dinner that it should be safe for others to feed from you again. Apparently he’s able to sense your blood volume. You nearly say that it’s impossible or ridiculous, but then you remember that you’re sitting at a table with 8 vampires and keep your mouth shut.

Minho smirks and calls ‘dibs,’ which results in multiple shouted arguments that don’t die down until the king calls for order. “You can’t call dibs, Minho. We’ll decide this in a mature and civilized manner.

“Rock paper scissors?” Seungmin asks with a straight face.

To your surprise, equally serious, Changbin agrees. You’re pretty sure you hear someone growl, but a glare from Changbin silences him. They play through until they have an order in which they will be allowed to feed from you. You try not to shudder at the thought. Luckily for him, Minho ends up winning anyway. After him will be Felix, Seungmin, Changbin, Jeongin, and Hyunjin will be last. 

Much like how it went with Chan, Minho escorts you to your room after dinner. He pauses at the door giving you a cat-like smile. He tells you to run to your bed. You look at him in concern. Changbin had reminded them all to take care not to be too rough with you when feeding, but you wonder at what point his predator brain may take over and overrun that order. 

“Oh come on,” Minho sighs. “Make it a little more fun for me. I won’t bite.”

You forget your decision to stay away from disrespectful actions, giving him a look that statement deserves. 

He cackles. “Okay, I will bite, but you’ll like it. I promise. Now run.” He maneuvers you so you’re facing the room again and gives you a quick pat on the butt to urge you forward. 

You glare back at him over your shoulder, but figure it’s better to just get this over with. You run toward your bed as fast as you can in your obnoxiously fancy dress; you still don’t understand why you have to get all dressed up like this every night, especially now that you’re expected to get yourself ready. 

You’re nearly to the bed before he even moves. You know that the vampires are preternaturally fast from your Q&A sessions with Jeongin, but these vampires haven’t really displayed any non-human characteristics, save for their eyes and teeth. The force at which the two of you hit the bed tells you that Minho was moving very quickly when he tackled you. Before you know it, he has you on your back and his teeth are sinking into your neck. 

The shock of it pulls a scream from your throat, but you can’t even register the fear before the euphoria hits you. A feeling of elation washes over you, its epicenter where Minho’s fangs pierce you. It feels so good, you barely hold back a moan. When he pulls away, you forget yourself for a second, pressing his face back into place, though he only sucks and licks at the small puncture wounds. You can’t help but whimper when you realize he won’t be bringing back the feeling. 

“What –” your voice is embarrassingly breathy. You clear your throat and try again. “What was that? It wasn’t like that with Chan and Jisung.”

Minho looks smug. “Innie told you that some vampires have particular talents, didn’t he? My sire passed on the gift of haengboggam venom to me. When I feed, I inject this venom, causing the pleasant feelings you just experienced.”

“That’s amazing. Do a lot of vampires have it?”

“Yes, amazing that I make my meals feel so good that they’d let me suck them dry if I so choose.” His laugh lacks humor.

You pale. He’s telling the truth. When he stopped biting you, the loss of the feeling was momentarily tremendous. You wanted him to keep going. You shudder.

You don’t realize that he’d started talking again until you feel his hand on your cheek as he brings your face back up to look at him. “Don’t worry. I won’t lose control, and there aren’t many who possess this gift. My sire was very responsible and chose not to create an abundance of children. Even if he had, Changbin keeps close tabs on those with abilities that could be particularly detrimental to the status quo.”

You wouldn’t have expected Minho to comfort you, but it works; you believe him. “Does anyone else have it here?”

He smiles. “Felix has a… mutation of it. His venom isn’t the same as mine, but I think you’ll enjoy it just the same.”

Felix. You haven’t had as much time with him; he left for a while on some mission. But he’s back, and he’ll be feeding on you sometime tonight. I probably shouldn’t be excited at the prospect of being bitten by a vampire.

Felix doesn’t come to find you until you’re in your room for the night, already dressed for bed. You’d wondered if he forgot he was given permission to feed today, or if he’d chosen to wait. When you open the door to his smiling face, you think your heart skips a beat. He’s so beautiful.

“Good evening.” His accent makes the simple greeting just a little more thrilling. “Or morning. Are you available?”

You snort at the question, then throw your hands over your mouth and nose, mortified. Felix’s deep voice pitches higher when he laughs. You step back, opening the door wider for him in invitation. 

“I suppose it was silly to ask when I know you were locked in here, but maybe you were in the middle of a really good book and didn’t want to be disturbed.” His smile really is one of the best you’ve ever seen. 

“Well, it’s sweet of you to ask, then.” You give him a smile of your own. “I’m not loving my current book anyway, so you’ve come at a perfect time, I guess.”

His smile widens. He sounds just a little guilty when he asks, “Is it still perfect if I tell you I’m hungry?”

You’d already noticed how red his irises are, and with the dinner conversation, you’d already been prepared to let him feed. After your time with Minho, you’re even a little excited for it. “Yeah, it’s fine. I know it doesn’t take long, so I know you’ll be done in time for sunrise.”

He gets a devious look in his eye. “It doesn’t have to take long, but some of us prefer to be a little less… efficient when we feed. Would you be open to exploring a different method with me?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating him. There was a certain implication in his tone. Taking in his lovely features, you can see another form of hunger in his eyes. You take his hand and lead him over to your bed. “I’m happy to try anything once.”

You scoot back to the center of your bed and he crawls not only toward you, but over your body, forcing you to lay flat on your back. His face hovers over yours, a lock of his pretty blond hair tickling your nose. You giggle as you reach up and tuck it behind his ear. His first kiss is soft, like he’s testing the waters, making sure you’re okay with it. Sweet.

You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him in for another. When he playfully nips at your lip, you can’t help but yelp. He pulls back, hand coming up to cup your cheek, running his thumb along your lip. “You know, biting is going to have to be a part of this.”

You can feel the blush coloring your face. “I know… I guess I’m still just a little jumpy about the whole blood thing.”

His grin is downright devious. “We’ll just have to get you used to it.”

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, slowly increasing the pressure until his fangs pierce it. The pain is replaced by pleasure almost instantaneously. It’s not as intense as it was with Minho, but it still has heat pooling low in your belly. His tongue laves over the punctures, and he’s kissing you again. You don’t realize that he’d continued holding his body over yours  until he shifts over and lowers himself comfortably between your legs. 

He starts kissing his way down your neck, stopping to bite you once again. At the same time, he squeezes your breast, being sure to pinch your nipple between two fingers. The double stimulation has you aching, and you can’t help rolling your hips up against his. You can feel him getting harder, and it excites you enough that you don’t miss it too much when he retracts his teeth again. 

He sits back to pull your night dress off before his mouth continues its journey down your body. His hand returns to your breast, pinching and twisting at your nipple now as he takes the other into his mouth. 

“Felix, please,” you moan, so ready to feel another pulse of pleasure from his fangs. He obliges readily and it washes over you, more acute in combination with the way his tongue flicks as he sucks. You hold his head to your chest, gasping out your pleasure. 

You whimper when he disengages, chuckling as he kisses down your stomach. He nips here and there, building your anticipation with each bolt of bliss. You happily realize that when he doesn’t lick the wounds closed, the feeling from the venom doesn’t immediately fade. When he resettles between your legs, he wraps his arms under your legs, hands coming to rest on the top of your thighs. He kisses the inside of one thigh before sinking his teeth into the other; one of his hands comes down so that his thumb can brush against your clit, heightening your pleasure. 

All too soon he retracts his teeth, but before you can mourn the loss, he’s licking into your core. He slowly drags his tongue up so that he can replace his thumb with it. He moves it in small circles, listening to your gasps and moans and making small adjustments. You bring one hand to your breast while the other threads into his beautiful, blond hair. 

Felix plunges two fingers into you, curling and pumping in time with each lick. Your climax is building, your body tensing with each flick of his tongue and twitch of his fingers. You’re mewling, and you can feel tears gathering in your eyes. 

When he starts sucking and his teeth sink in, you scream with rapture. Your body convulses, the tears spill over, and you actually black out for a second. 

You come back to yourself as Felix is crawling back up your body, trailing kisses much like he did on his way down, though, this time instead of nipping, licking over the small bite marks. 

You’re still breathing heavily. “That was… amazing. But you didn’t…”

“That’s alright. I imagine this was a lot for your first time.” His smile is genuine. Then he winks. “You can always make it up to me tomorrow after you’ve rested.”

A certain light-headedness accompanies your blush. “Oh yes. Did you, um, did you not get enough to drink?”

“I did, don’t worry about that. I know you need time in between our feedings.” He tilts his head, a teasing look on his face. “You know we can do this kind of thing without me biting you. If you want to.”

You find you’re relieved to hear that he wants to hook up again regardless of feeding. This has been the best sexual experience of your life, but you’re eager to see how it goes without his venom intensifying your feelings. “I’d like that.”

He checks the clock and you realize it’s nearly sun up. No wonder you’re feeling so wiped out. He tucks you into bed with a final peck on the cheek. You’re asleep before you can hear the lock click. 

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Things continue this way for a while – Felix did come back the next night so that you could return the favor, as he said; he stops by a few nights a week, but he’s sure not to take any of your blood on the weeks he’s not meant to be feeding. When it is his turn, he drinks less at a time so that he can spread his feeding over the course of the first few days, ensuring that you still have four days to recuperate fully. 

None of the others have venom like Minho and Felix, so when you’re with them, things are more like how Chan was, gentle and a little detached, taking care that you’re comfortable but not making things feel particularly personal. Minho doesn’t take things as far as Felix does, but he still takes things up several notches compared to the rest. You like your weeks with them the best. 

On your third rotation, they decide that you can try increasing to four feedings per week. Jisung, Chan, Changbin, and Minho take the first week, and it goes fine, similar to adjusting to that first week. 

On the second week, you start with Hyunjin. Or you’re supposed to. He gets caught up with something and tells you that he’ll feed tomorrow. When Felix escorts you to your room for the night. You tell him that Hyunjin won’t be feeding tonight. He decides that he’ll still keep his spot in the rotation, but he does want to spend extra time with you tonight.

Thirty minutes later, he’s pounding into you from behind, one hand on your hip, the other pulling at your hair. On his next thrust, you let out a moaning shriek. Your door flies open at the sound, and you both turn to see Hyunjin in the doorway. He looks stricken. 

Felix pulls out and jumps off the bed, reaching Hyunjin at an inhuman speed. “Listen, Jin, this isn’t a big deal; it’s just physical and –”

“That makes it better?” Hyunjin is clearly upset, his eyes are glowing red. You’ve gotten used to them all, but you haven’t seen any of them angry since that first night. You scoot back until you hit the headboard, clutching the blanket to your chest. “You figured since you can give her something I can’t, might as well milk it?”

“Jinnie, that’s not fair,” Felix starts, reaching out to him. Hyunjin shoves, sending Felix tumbling into the small dining table you take your meals at sometimes. Felix’s eyes flash red now, too, and he’s growling. “Hyunjin! You’re overreacting.”

Before either of them can do or say anything else, Chan and Minho are there. Minho grabs Felix like he’s scruffing a cat and walks right back out. Chan holds Hyunjin in a bear hug while the latter thrashes and snaps his teeth at him. 

“Jinnie, you need to calm down, and then you need to feed.” 

The words send a bolt of panic down your spine. Hyunjin is usually one of the most gentle with you, but seeing him like this, you’re afraid to let him bite you. In this moment, it occurs to you that it won’t be your choice. Despite all the escorting and keeping you under lock and key, you’d managed to forget that you’re basically their blood slave. Chan punctuates that point by dragging a calmer, albeit still fuming Hyunjin to your bed. 

“I know this is a little scary, but he’s not mad at you.” Chan’s voice is gentle, like he’s talking to an injured animal he’s trying to save. “Can you just give me your arm, or even just stick out your leg if you’re too nervous.”

You appreciate that he’s asking, but you’re certain he’ll make you if you don’t comply. You try but fail to stop your shaking when you extend your arm to him. You feel the tears rolling down your cheeks when Chan takes your hand. 

Hyunjin’s eyes finally dim. “I won’t hurt you. I just need a little. I’m sorry.” He takes your hand out of Chan’s gingerly. He sits as he brings your wrist to his mouth. You feel the slight pinch of his teeth and close your eyes. 

True to his word, he finishes quickly. When he does, he gets up and leaves immediately. Chan bows his head to you in apology and follows after him. 

You haven’t moved by the time Minho returns. He takes in your huddled form, the tear streaks on your face, and heaves a sigh. He closes the door behind him and comes to sit at the foot of your bed. He rubs a hand across his face tiredly. 

“I’m sorry.”

Of all the things he could’ve said, you weren’t expecting an apology. It warms you just a little. When you speak, your voice is barely above a whisper. “Why are you apologizing?”

Minho laughs humorlessly. “Well, I can’t help but feel responsible for my progeny when he’s acting a fool. But I’m also sorry that you’re in this position.”

You can’t decide which part of that to question. If you remember your Vampire Diaries correctly, a vampire’s progeny are humans that they’ve turned. Minho is basically Felix or Hyunjin’s vampire dad? Before you can finish processing enough to come up with a question, he continues.

“I understand why Changbin has chosen to handle things this way, but I wonder if it’s a mistake.” He pouts a bit, eyeing the space between the two of you. You feel safe with Minho; you pat the space beside you. He moves slowly, slower than a human might, in an effort to keep you comfortable. “You’ve been a good sport in all this, but something like tonight shouldn’t have happened. I plan to request an official audience to speak with him about it tomorrow.”

He checks the clock, and you’re shocked to see how much time this whole ordeal took. You must’ve sat frozen on your bed for longer than you realized. Minho gets up and grabs your nightgown from the dresser. He passes it to you and turns to walk away immediately. Rather than leaving, he checks your window. It’s fitted with the same blackout shade and curtain combination on all the windows you’ve encountered, a safety measure in case a vampire can’t make it back to his room in time. He surprises you again by sliding into bed with you.

“You won’t let me get burned, right?” He doesn’t seem at all concerned that you might be planning to do just that if he stays in the room with you. He curls around you, kissing your cheek before snuggling his face into the back of your neck.

You say the only thing that makes sense to you at this moment. “Of course not.” And that’s how you spend your first day with a vampire. Sleeping comfortably in his arms. 

By the time you wake, Minho is gone. You go about your normal routine, getting ready for the night, when you hear a knock at your door. Chan is on the other side, looking sheepish with a shopping bag in hand. He holds the bag up to you.

“You like dancing, right?”

You look at him, take the bag, look inside and back at him, dumbfounded. Any time you’ve done anything with the group of them, you’re expected to dress up. Typically that’s just for dinner, but you have on one other occasion as well. Every time, you dress in these extravagant ball gowns with jewelry and light makeup. You still don’t understand why, but that’s beside the point. This bag holds clothes that you’d wear to a bar or club. 

“You’ve been cooped up here with us for ages. With all that’s been going on since your arrival, we haven’t even done anything fun.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “I, well, Minho and I decided that you deserve to have a normal life again, at least for a couple hours. So while everyone’s busy tonight, I thought I’d take you out. Minho will cover for us if we don’t make it back in time for dinner. What do you say?”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

In no time, you’re dressed and sneaking out of the castle. You go to a bar, drink, dance, and all around have a great time. When it’s time to head back, you realize that you’re excited to see Minho, to tell him about your night. You thank Chan repeatedly for doing this for you; if vampires could blush, you’re sure he’d have turned beet red when you hugged and kissed his cheek. 

You’ve barely stashed the clothes and cleaned your face when there’s another knock on your door. You open the door with a smile, Thinking Minho has finally arrived. It’s Hyunjin. Your face falls and you take a small step back. 

“I am sorry,” he mumbles. He squares his shoulders and clears his throat. “I shouldn’t have behaved that way last night; hungry or not. I just didn’t realize that you were in a relationship with Felix and was surprised. I’m sorry.”

You look down at your feet. “I’m sure it was a little shocking. And… and we’re not in a relationship.” You probably didn’t need to clarify that part, but it feels important to say so.

You can’t read his expression. “His majesty requests your presence. Please follow me.”

He doesn’t leave you much of a choice, turning on his heel and striding down the hall on those long legs. You scurry down the hall after him, worrying that you’re not dressed properly for an audience with the king. 

In the receiving chamber, Changbin sits atop a throne that looks like it might be made of obsidian, all black and shiny. He looks imposing and at home in the grandiose room. The serious look on his face sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve come to a decision,” he says gravely.

You swallow a couple times before you can ask, “Your decision about what, your majesty?”

His face breaks with a small smile. “About how best to protect our world and you.”

“Me?” Your eyes go wide. You knew that things might change some time considering all you’d learned about how other vampires were after you, but you still have no idea what they could have come up with besides locking you up even more. 

He motions for whoever is at the door to come in. You turn to see all seven of the men - vampires - you’ve been getting to know file in around you. You can feel your heartbeat pick up and a blush colors your cheeks when you realize they all know it, too. 

“I’ve decided to turn you.”

The color drains from your face at that. You look around at the guys; their expressions range from unhappy to encouraging. You drag your gaze back to Changbin’s. He looks resolute. You doubt you could change his mind, even if some of the others support you. But… Do you want to? 

You think back to the way they’d had to cut the castle staff down to a skeleton crew a few weeks after you’d arrived. a butler had been convinced to turn coat and aided in your attempted kidnapping by outside vampires. There were only a few other attempted assaults on the castle, and none made it very far. That’s when you’d gotten to see the extent of some vampires’ powers. Minho and Felix’s gifts make them more appealing, but the rest… you shudder at the memory of all the violence. As long as you stay here, there will be more attacks and those around you will have to keep going out on secret missions, sometimes coming back injured or ravenous, needing to switch feeding days with another so they can have you sooner. 

You’d already resigned yourself to living here for the rest of your life; this won’t change that. Your life is just going to be shorter than you anticipated. It’s not like you’ll be dead and gone. You nod at him. 

Changbin looks pleased. “Has Jeongin told you about how this will work?” 

“Y-yes.” You almost can’t believe how okay you are with this. Still, your heart is steadier than your voice. “You’ll d-drain my blood then f-feed me yours.”

Minho takes your hand in his. “You don’t need to be scared. I’ll make sure you don’t feel any pain.” You meet his eyes with a smile.

“So, you’ll do it?”

Changbin answers before he can. “No, I will turn you myself. But Minho and the others will be allowed to help take your blood. Minho and Felix’s venom will alleviate the negative effects of blood loss and the change.”

They take you to another room you’ve never been in before and lay you down on a thin bed, your back against Minho’s chest as he leans against the headboard. The rest of them fan out around you, Changbin sitting to your right. Felix takes your wrist in his hand, kissing it gently before sinking his teeth in. That now familiar sensation of pleasure starts to flow through you. You watch as Seungmin bites your other wrist while Chan and Jisung each bite into one of your thighs. 

As always, it doesn’t take as long as you’d think, and they all are careful to take only their allotted amount. Felix is going slower than the others so that his teeth remain when the others finish. You feel a bit lightheaded, around two liters of your blood gone already, but you’re grounded by Minho behind you and the gentle hold Changbin has taken hold of your hand. Minho presses a kiss to your shoulder, and then his venom is flowing through you, taking you to cloud nine. You barely notice Felix being replaced by Hyunjin, Jeongin biting just above where Chan did, and Changbin leaning in to bite your neck. 

It’s not your typical state of euphoria, but as he said, Minho keeps you from feeling any discomfort, let alone pain. When you’re floating on the precipice of death, you don’t even feel Changbin’s wrist shoved against your mouth. The iron-y taste of his blood fills your mouth. If you still had any sense, you’d wonder why you’re not completely disgusted about it. After a second, the thirst hits you, and you actually begin to drink.

When his wrist is taken away, you feel the first pangs of discomfort. You want, no you need, more. you try to reach for him, but find that your arms are being restrained. You thrash against their hold, trying to get to him, trying to get more blood. You might hear voices, but nothing makes sense. All you can understand is that you’re hungry. 

You feel another pulse of pleasure emanating from your other shoulder. It takes the edge off. You’re finally able to take in the room around you. Jisung, Chan, and Changbin all left at some point. You can feel Minho behind you again, notice that Felix biting you is what helped bring your full consciousness back. He’s holding your right arm to him. Hyunjin is holding your left. Seungmin and Jeongin each have one of your legs. 

“She’s coming to, you can probably let go now.” You think it’s Changbin’s voice. Maybe he didn’t leave after all. 

“Drink this.” Chan holds out a blood bag. 

You snatch it from him and put the tube in your mouth like a straw. Your human sensibilities still have a hold on you, though. As hungry as you feel, you’re too aware of the fact that you’ll be sucking up blood. 

Chan takes the bag back, ignoring your whine at its loss. “Here.” He takes a big swig from the bag and puts a knee on the bed next to you, one hand on Minho’s shoulder for stability, the other gripping your chin and tiling your head back. Blood drips from his lips into your mouth. It’s delicious. You reach up, dislodging Felix, your hands land on either side of Chan’s head. You pull his mouth down to yours, licking and sucking, trying to take every last drop of blood from him. 

The vampires around you chuckle, you hear Jisung ask, “Oh Channie, if I’m thirsty will you feed me like that, too?”

There are a few more jokes, but your focus is almost entirely on the blood bag that’s been returned to you. The tubing is dripping after Chan’s sip, all your reservations dissolve and you suck it down in record time. 

You feel when Minho finally unlatches from your shoulder. You realize that your frenzy may have been partially fueled by his venom. You do feel an ache throughout your entire body now, but it’s bearable. You lean back against his chest, face turned to the side to thank him. He gives you a smile, rubs a drop of spilled blood from your lip and lets you pull his thumb between your lips to clean it off. 

“I’ll take her up to her room, sire.” Minho gestures to Chan who produces another bag of blood for you. As you drink, you let him scoot you up the bed so that he can slide out from behind you before he scoops you into his arms. When you get upstairs, he lays you gently on your bed. “How are you feeling, jagiya?”

You expect to feel your face flush at the term of endearment and realize that that will never happen again. “I’m okay, I think. Thank you again, Minho.”

He kisses your forehead. “Of course. I’m happy I could make your transition a pleasant one.” He moves as if to leave. You grab his hand.

“Would you stay with me?”

You’ve never seen a gentler smile on Minho’s face. Before he slides into bed with you, he checks to make sure your windows are covered properly. Then he’s curling his body around yours, hand running over your hip soothingly.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Over the next couple weeks, Minho is with you whenever he can be. He helps you to get used to your new preternatural speed, strength, and senses. He’s also been sharing your bed most nights. Jeongin and Jisung have started jokingly referring to him as your boyfriend, and neither of you deny it. 

Minho can’t help with everything, though. As your sire, Changbin passed a power on to you. While he’s able to control birds, your power is lesser, similar to the way that Felix’s venom gives a fraction of the pleasure compared to that of Minho, his sire. It is possible for your power to increase with age, but for now, you can only communicate with birds; they are inclined to follow your requests, but they have the ability to refuse, unlike with Changbin’s orders. It will take hundreds of years to find out how your power will change, though, so you don’t think too much about it.

There is another aspect of your transformation that everyone has been anxious about. The reason they decided to turn you is because your blood was highly sought after. None of your ancestors, to anyone’s knowledge, became vampires, so no one knows if feeding from you will have any effect on other vampires. You have to wait for the blood flowing through your body to truly ‘become yours’ again.

It’s a bit anticlimactic when you find out that your bloodline gift is gone. The upside is that 

no one should be coming after you anymore. You’re happy to stay at the castle with a new sense of freedom and for the staff to be allowed to return, sans the traitors. You’ve missed having your maid help you dress for dinner. As much as you like the guys, it’s nice to have other people around to talk to from time to time. 

Changbin tells you that it won’t be easy to make other vampire factions believe that you’re no longer valuable to them. Being king allows him to make a declaration, but those factions who worked against him will still take time, and those who have not been outwardly rebellious may still need to be shown proof. 

This means you’re still on house arrest. When the next attack occurs, you’ve trained enough with Chan and Minho that you’re able to join the fight. This does wonders for spreading the news that you’re no longer human, but some still question if that means you’ve lost the gift. 

Eventually Changbin decides that a show of power, or lack thereof, is in order. He is organizing a ball. At this ball, vampires from prominent houses will be allowed to drink from you to show that no one can benefit from your blood any more. 

The idea of letting others, strangers, drink your blood just to prove a point. Hypocritical as it might be, it feels different than when you arrived here. You turn to Minho, one of Changbin’s top advisers, your boyfriend, in hopes that he’ll argue for you, but he agrees with his king. 

Jisung is surprisingly on your side. The night of the ball, with more and more guests arriving every minute, you hit peak panic. You find Jisung in his room and ask him to help you get away; you don’t want to be subjected to however many vampires it’ll take to convince the vampire community to leave you alone. 

You make it as far as the back garden.

“You can’t do this, jagi.” Minho’s voice is soft but you can hear the authority in his tone. “Come, we have to get you ready.”

You’re crying, but you don’t care. “How can you make me do this?”

Minho looks pained, but he doesn’t waver. Despite your new vampire strength, you’re no match for a centuries old vampire; you know it’s not even worth it to try fighting him. You allow him to take your arm and take you back up to your room. On the way, you make it clear that you feel betrayed and that you don’t want to be with him anymore. He apologizes, but he doesn’t try to change your mind.

As soon as you end it, you feel this strange pull in your chest. Is this… heartbreak? You’ve had boyfriends before, thought you were in love, but you didn’t even think you had truly fallen for Minho yet. You wonder if like so many other aspects of your new life, this emotion is just intensified. 

Once back in your room, you bathe and Myrna is once again offering you a selection of dresses. The feeling in your chest has gotten worse, you’re having trouble focusing on them. When Myrna asks what’s wrong, you do your best to describe the feeling.

“Is this normal?” You rub at your chest, feeling tears building up behind your eyes. “Do you know how to make it stop?”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” Myrna looks a little panicked. “Please sit down while I go get help. Someone older might know what’s happening.”

They must’ve all been together, because Chan, Minho, and Changbin all burst through your door at once. The latter two each take one of your hands, and Chan lays one hand on your forehead and the other between your breasts.

“How long has this been going on?” Chan’s eyes are closed, face pinched in concentration. 

You glance at Minho, and something must click for him, because he answers for you. “About half an hour.”

The other two eye him curiously. Before either can ask how he knows and why he didn’t say anything before, Seungmin flies into the room. “There’s something wrong with Felix!”

Chan and Changbin lock eyes with matching looks of awe. Minho stands with a smile; you’re in pain, and he’s smiling. Before you can lose your temper about it, he speaks up again. “Bring him here, and you both will be alright.”

Seungmin looks confused, but at Changbin’s nod, he’s gone. 

“Man, I haven’t seen this since I was a fledgling,” Chan says with a sigh as he too turns away from you, as if you don’t feel like you’re burning from the inside out. 

Changbin smiles widely. “I’ve never seen it happen.”

“Someone tell me what’s happening to me!” Seconds after you shout, you realize the sensation is beginning to lessen. 

You can hear several people coming down the hallway. When Felix is in your sight line, the pull has a different kind of warmth to it, and you feel calm. At the same moment, you run toward each other, meeting in the middle of the room. In Felix’s arms, the sensation in your chest dissolves completely. You both look to the eldest vampires for an explanation. 

Hyunjin is the one who speaks, though, so your heads whip around to look at him. He’d clearly been down after catching you and Felix together all those weeks ago and then again when you and Minho had become an item. Now, though, he looks blissful. “They’re soulmates.”

“What?” Jisung asks. The rest of the vampires, save the three oldest, look as confused as you are. 

“It’s part of the old stories,” Hyunjin explains. “It was rare then, and it’s even more so now. In theory, all vampires could all have soulmates, but it’s so hard to find them, it’s unclear if everyone does or if it’s just a select few. But you find your soulmate through ‘The Tether,’ a pulling sensation in your chest that begins when you get within a certain distance of your soulmate. At the farthest point, it is extremely painful; it’s meant to push you toward your soulmate, but in many cases, it did the opposite. It only lessens when you’re in close proximity.”

“But why did it only start today, a little while ago?” Felix asks, though his eyes are searching your face, hands running over your arms and shoulders, like he can’t take his attention away from you. 

Hyunjin scrunches his face up in thought, but Minho takes over the explanation for him. 

“It’s because her heart wasn’t open to the connection before.” He’s still smiling, but he sounds a little sad now. “I’m sorry that I hurt you with my choice to support the plan for tonight, jagi, but it did give you the chance to realize your heart belongs to Felix. Even if we could’ve mended things, since Felix was so close, even the smallest gap in your affection for me was enough to give the Tether space to latch on.”

You’d been angry at him, ended things even, but you honestly expected to get back together by the end of the party. You care for Minho, but at that thought, you realize that it’s no longer what you want. It’s bittersweet. He takes your hand, presses a kiss to your knuckles, before grabbing Felix by the nape of his neck, pulling him over to kiss his forehead. 

“Let’s leave them to process this,” Changbin suggests. “You all have duties tonight, get to them. Felix, I expect you both in the ballroom within the hour. Don’t dawdle.” 

“Yes, sir,” Felix says with a nod of his head. 

Once everyone else is gone, Felix guides you to your bed. Sitting side by side, you silently agree to just take this news in. After a few minutes, you say, “Well I’m happy Hyunjin doesn’t seem mad at us anymore.”

Felix’s laugh has never sounded more like music before. “He was never really mad, not at you. Maybe a little at me and Minho. He was just frustrated with himself for not acting on his feelings.”

The silence returns, but it’s not awkward. Still, it can’t last forever. Felix squeezes your hand. “Are you okay with this?”

Now you’re the one laughing. “I don’t think we have a choice, but even if we did, I think I would be. Obviously I was drawn to you before I turned, even if it was mostly sexual.”

He flashes a cocky grin at you. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” 

The clock on the mantle chimes. You still have a lot to do before you’re ball-ready. 

“Would you find Myrna for me?” You stand and go over to the rack of dresses. You look back at Felix, notice the blue accents of his attire. You select a dress in a similar blue. “I need her help with this dress.”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll wait to escort me down when I’m ready?”

He does. Once you’re dressed and made up, Felix takes you down to the ballroom. With all the excitement, you’d nearly forgotten to be nervous. Felix’s presence at your side calms you. And ultimately, Minho did have your back. While you were still upstairs, he’d convinced Changbin to take a different approach. 

When the time comes for Changbin’s announcement, he invites the naysayers to say their piece. Among those brave or stupid enough to do so, only one was disrespectful. The rest suddenly had far less to say after Seungmin ripped the man’s head off. 

The party goes on as planned once everyone settles. Many of the vampires you meet as the night goes on are quite nice. You receive several invitations to visit different vampire estates that Felix smoothly declines, issuing his own invitations so that until all the rebellious factions have been rooted out, you’ll be safe and well guarded at home. 

When the ball finally ends, you retire to Felix’s rooms with him and spend your first official night in the arms of your soulmate. And you couldn’t be happier.