#I hope you all enjoy it as much as Ri and I did writing it

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"No Place Like Home." Leslie Vernon X FEM! AFAB! Reader.

Okay! So the amazing and wonderful @applesontheground wrote me a Leslie Vernon fic for my birthday and I adored it so much I didn't want it to end. She encouraged me to continue it, and so I did just that, and then she joined in and kept it going, and it became this beast of a collaborative piece that ended up being thirteen thousand words. It started off as being just for me, and true while it is still very self-indulgent, it's turned into something for all of you as well! I hope you enjoy!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 13K. Leslie Vernon X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Reader Is A Killer Obsessed Freak. Banter. Drinking. Murder. Blood. Gore. Ropes. Restrained Reader. Threats. Reader Kinda Wants To Die But Not In A Suicidal Way. Canon Aligned Meta Talk. Man Handling. Vaginal Fingering. Cunnilingus. Blow Job. Messy Oral Sex. Throat Fucking. Cum Eating. Scar Worship. Many Feelings. Vaginal Sex. Multiple Orgasms. Overstimulation. Raw Sex. Cream Pie.

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You understood that it was a joke to begin with.

Living in a rural area, there were a lot of empty spots between the bricks that made up Glen Echo. Most of it was the usual urban legends and small businesses that just didn’t keep up with a world changing around it, turning to joke about it amongst themselves.

To you, though, there was something comforting and endearing about the pace. You were a bit of a way from home out here but found yourself filling those gaps and making the best of it. At the end of the day, being somewhere new had its moments that paid in turn for the shortcomings it could put you through.

Simply being “attracted to the area” was only half of a lie; you had shown up because of research on the mythos. You could admit that you even looked into it a little too much. The idea of the enigma who nested in the area – a man that fabricated his whole being just to relish in the spilling of unsuspecting blood – was utterly fascinating. You could find the Photoshopped news clippings and chase almost laughable clues sitting around town for days if you didn’t have a day job to occupy you.

Even remembering the life outside this Autumn night, silent and swift as a cat under a new moon, was something you finally decided to release from your attention. Halloween was no time to worry about a day job, and with that you began dawning your costume. Think like the woman you dress as, you told yourself with a smug grin to the mirror. The iconic blue and white dress fell into place on your body, resting on the midway point between your thighs.

Prudes would call it too short, and company you meshed with way better would tease that it’s far too long. It didn’t help that you wore accents that drew attention to your legs on top of that, those knee-high socks with laced hems and the ruby red slippers, which had a taller heel for an accent.

Life beyond the fantasy you were basking in was far behind you, tightening the red bows that kept two well curled pigtails hanging down behind your ears. With a touch like that, only the thickest of skulls wouldn’t know who you were.

Leaving home, following that yellow brick road that lead out of the small confines of the shabby town and into the rural space, you soon caught up with similarly dressed heathens who were raising their flasks and opened cans of alcohol to you, recognizing you were part of the pack that was heading to the supposedly haunted orchard as part of some middle finger to the belief that anyone smart enough to live out here would abstain.

The possibility had been mentioned that he – a walking spirit or man that pulled the strings as quickly and seamlessly as he did steal souls, whatever he did – would find everyone there, and he would not like what he was seeing despite the high spirits.

“Then what?” A girl expertly stepping along the uneven road beside you, a little too tough to be dressed as Princess Peach, but you quickly digressed because she wore the white elbow-length gloves well.

“Then, we become history.” Someone up the road replied, “Immortalized as the idiots who tried to party with Leslie Vernon.” Putting a fist up, you saw the blue and white Letterman jacket he was wearing had a few rips in it, and that his face was painted a ghoulish grey and rooted with purple veins along his jawline to accent it. Something about him seemed eerily familiar, but then you considered it could be something generic, very plain in the visage of an undead high schooler that the Halloween stores would sometimes parade for the uncreative minds. The fact he was holding a bottle of Jagermister only made you squint a little harder before centering your thoughts back to the road beyond the crowd again.

It was a joke to begin with, but you were still finding yourself wanting to believe it. Almost as if you wanted the party to be at real risk despite the blanket of calm everyone had draped over it, additionally nursing with booze and jokes. Surely, there would be a twist from him to combat the weak one that these costumed groups thought they were pulling.

He can’t deal with all of us, right?

You found yourself needing to take a deep breath at the thought that in your wildest fantasies that he somehow could.

After passing a fence down the trodden path, the air around you was wordlessly shifting. As though it was on a cue from where you were standing, trees were clearing from the sky to allow a half-moon to illuminate the dirt road before you, and somewhere in the lump of unclear horizon sat the dilapidated Vernon farmhouse. Bunches of yellow and rouge apples rest within the first trees that you were passing, a signal you had made it to the orchard.

A breath pulled tight into your chest; eyes as wide as you could make them while you continued to peruse, to listen to every little noise outside of the murmur of people. The Jager man offered you a drink from the cooler that they were lugging out with the rest of the crowd, and after fiddling through the soggy ice, your hand secured a vodka shot between index and middle fingers while the rest of your hand found the rim of a canned pre-mixed drink. He then said something in a pompous tone, but it was otherwise unintelligible to you, so you just laughed it off to go back to soaking in the sight before you instead.

Even after basking for a good portion of the party’s setup, you still weren’t done. You decided to give it a rest, be a little more social. It was the omniscience embedded within you to realize how you looked, staring wistfully into the orchard surrounding the clearing that everyone was gathering in, not interested in any person at a Halloween party. Too suspicious, and despite knowing there were no tricks up your frilly short sleeves, you were aware no one else knew yourself as well as you did.

You began striking up conversations to avert any of the oddly placed suspicion that might have been drummed up, complimenting costumes as the two drinks you had snagged were put down between giggles and conversations about what kind of final girl was the best kind You fell elbow-deep in bringing up a classic archetype, the movie buff who called plot twists and elements that would play out in their own story before they happened, someone locked eyes with you. You didn’t stop, of course, but held the stare from across the party as you went on.

“Please, where would we be without those dudes half-baked and quoting The Creature from the Black Lagoon? They’re the ones painting the picture for the rest of the clueless victims.”

You couldn’t quite pinpoint what about him really excited you. First off, the thrill of him being the Scarecrow and unintentionally matching you passed as you failed to recognize the shape worn on his mask, and the absence of straw in the torn holes of the rest of his getup was only a final nail in the coffin of your hopes. He was just…some mope-mouthed zombie, or a haunted doll.

The people you had been speaking to were well into buzzed territory, taking the lull in your conversation to go stumble into another aesthetically appropriate chat circle while you waited for this new acquaintance. He continued to wade through the crowds that you had been standing off to the side from, and finally piped up as soon as he could be heard from behind everything.

“Looks like you forgot Toto.”

You snickered at that, and shrugged, “Yeah. None of my friends’ dogs wanted to do it, sorry.”

He made an amused noise at that, then pointed to the drink in your hand. “Want me to grab you another one?” You shook your head, grimacing a bit, “No, no. I’m still working on this, and besides- Even in stoppers, not a great combination to keep drinking with these shoes on.”

“Even in what?” He stooped a little to hear better, and you demonstrated it by walking perfectly stable along the uneven terrain, wading off the dirt clearing everyone was gathered in to show off a pair of high heels in all their red, glittery glory on forest brush. “Heel stoppers. They keep me from sinking in all this mud and dirt around the property.” He whistled a bit as you did a fancy little turn, accenting the agility they provided, and he complimented, “Pretty smart. You do that just for parties?”

You bit your tongue, smiling as you walked back over and admitted, “More to just keep in the race should I need to run.” The inquisitive glow to wide eyes suddenly narrowed, and he scoffed, “Run from what? It’s pretty harmless out here, save for those dudes who won’t stop saying they’re gonna climb the roof. It’s gonna give out the second any weight gets put on it…” He faltered, arm shooting out to the farmhouse like it was obvious from where the both of you stood, “Looks that way, anyways.”

“That’s what you think, dude. Do you know where you are right now?” He was silent; merely staring on at you, almost through you. You smiled and elaborated for him, “The Vernon Farm. Leslie Vernon’s resting place?”

He scrunched his eyes and hummed, “Can’t say that’s ringing a bell. Enlighten me.”

You felt as though the words couldn’t fall faster from your mouth, crafted into the same story you loved to tell the locals (as if they weren’t native to the area that it all started in, hearing the tall tale since they were in grade school).

“Isn’t that fucking ingenious?” You paused partially through the story on how he had committed a few murders within a span of the last three years, part of you trying to steady yourself as you realized you had spilled your guts to a man whose face you hadn’t even seen, “He’s up and coming still, but I think he’s taking a lot of cues from the greats of these serial killer types. I mean, morally abhorrent, but I’m no snob to that.”

“Wow.” He looked away in a rather brisk motion, but seemed amicable to the subject, “It sounds like you’re really banking on this dude to be some kind of mastermind.”

“Please.” You shrugged, “I mean, these murders that happened over three years seem pretty real to me. Whoever, whatever’s been utterly elusive on a rural farm for so long – still Vernon as we see him – he absolutely knows about stuff like this coming on the horizon. I can see it already, it’s so practical now that I have my actual eyes on this place.” You pointed up to a tree you had been perusing, “There’s an electrical wire trailing up this tree, perfectly on the outskirts of the crowd where someone can – no, will run towards it if they get spooked. Seriously, doubt anybody in our group put that up there, it’s not covered in all these goofy Halloween decorations.” His own eyes slowly trailed up your arm, catching on an exposed tattoo before briskly tearing away to see what you were talking about, following your pointed finger.

You then gave the unimpressed tone right back, “That’s going to do something. Electrocute someone, take power to something that’s even more gruesome. It’s too high off the ground to be some sort of cutting wire, right?” His eyes went back down, sizing up your confident expression with a halfhearted blink, “Pretty sure whoever, whatever Vernon is, has more than rocks in his head. Fueled by more than just hearsay, ghost stories…”

Finding humor in your almost asinine explanation, you found this was better timing than anything that’d come afterwards. You were surprised he was even still standing in front of you, as you figured you may as well introduce yourself, still caught in a starry-eyed smirk. You offer up your name.

He shook your hand nicely and replied, “Nice meeting you. I’ll let you in on mine after the party.” Finding it almost bold in nature, looking to fulfill some type of promise with that reveal, you blew him off. Rolling your eyes, you asked, “Sure. Then what can I call you until then?”

Still holding your hand in a mockingly polite way, he mulled, “Just call me the wizard himself. … Or the Scarecrow. Whatever works for this costume, Dorothy.” Taking his hand out of yours, he flicked one of your pigtails while pulling away slightly, just enough to leave you able to recall the subtle warmth from standing beside him as something so much stronger just mere seconds ago.

He had glanced at your arm again, so you decided to keep the topic going. “If you can’t tell, I’m kind of fascinated by these slasher types.” You gave him a good view of your tattoos, and his eyes traced over it, silent at first but the approval shining through in a thoughtful roll of his neck as he took in the entire picture again, every detail having soaked in through painted eyeholes.

“You know, I didn’t take you as someone who saw so much in a dynamic like that. The killer and his final person, I mean.” He carefully crossed his arms, like he was letting this creepy façade rest its head for a moment as he speculated, “Almost sounds like you want that for yourself, or at least to see it for yourself, straight out of the movies and the stories.” You smiled unapologetically, and although it sounded like you were playing along it was spoken in earnest, “Oh, do I.”

He stared off into the tree line with you for a beat, and hummed, “A girl like you really seems to chase after that, stick around in places where it can’t help itself.” You rolled your neck a little, adjusting in the scratch of the costume, as alcohol started permeating on your tongue a little heavier. You admitted, “Can’t help being such a go-getter with this. I almost live for it, which means I have to die for it too, I guess.”

“Go-getter.” The words themselves felt like they could be sarcastic when he echoed them back to you, but something earnest coated his voice as he suddenly affirmed that, “You’ll find it. It’ll find you. One or the other.” A hand came up, grasping at an imaginary subject in front of him as he spoke in even more earnest. “Ghost stories or not, something about that attraction. It’s palpable…magnetic, even.”

He then pulled a handle from his pocket, and you soon saw from the size of it that it hadn’t been inside, but rather sitting right in plain view over the top. The stranger shrugged rather peacefully. “It’s like the two can’t keep away from each other.”

That blade didn’t look plastic. You raised an eyebrow; it didn’t even look chrome; it was chipped in certain spots and narrow in a way that fake weapons just couldn’t emulate. Wear and tear made marks like that. You got one more look at his mask, a few second thoughts shutting you up well and fine.

“I’m keeping that promise, by the way. We’ll talk a little later. Can I count on you?” he asked, friendly enough as you merely nodded, trying to act like you were thinking before the nonverbal answer. He slid right past, not towards the crowd, but into the shadows of the apple orchard that surrounded the farm. No one even looked twice at the noise, so minor that it was easily blamed on the wind, should you not know better.

“Oh.” You spoke to yourself, staring down at your drink, “Oh, now that just isn’t fair.”

~

What in the fuck was he doing?

You felt the rope constrict tighter, one of his long arms stretching over one shoulder to take the other end towards your back. Silent, you merely matched his own lack of words because you were more confused than terrified. Maybe even a little let down.

This was how you told him you had wanted to go, at the hands of some dude like him, and he isn’t even killing you.

Between the small talk by the tree and reuniting with him now, to say you had been put to the test to be his victim would be an understatement. Between the classic straggler at the party who disappeared for far too long only for a severed arm or head to turn up to people hanging from the rafters of the farmhouse or in the trees, everyone had scattered, herded together by the supernatural entity of Vernon, and picked off to the best of his abilities. The ones he hadn’t been able to physically get a hold of got caught, you had noted when you ran by that wire and saw someone electrocuted at the foot of the tree it was wrapped around.

What do you know? I was fucking right.

Securing the entire hog tie, he suddenly lifted his haunches from you. Before you recognized he was gearing to leave, that was it. Turning onto your back and haphazardly sitting up, ignoring how your dress rode up slightly in favor of looking through the trees, he had slipped off again like the ghost that he was trying to emulate. You almost wanted to holler at him: The fuck is THE Leslie Vernon doing taking live captors? Is he getting bait? Playing with the food before consuming it?

Pondering had honestly brought you to a comfortable seat on the dirt beneath your backside, not caring if it was starting to pour into the backs of your socks, or even accidentally slip under your skirt, peppering your bare thighs before you readjusted with a huff. You had a hunch, one that finally helped your dry throat find its gloss and find its voice again.

“Not gonna lie, you’re kind of screwing this up.” You called out, and he emerged from the dark, like he knew your own speculations that would come to the light, much like himself: He couldn’t run off yet. Still saying nothing, he tilted his head to one side. It was impossible to tell if he meant it in admiration or disbelief. Regardless, you heard a shuddering breath behind his mask.

“You know,” You crossed one ankle over the other, calming the pulse between your legs, “I always assumed you’d want to keep this brief. Especially if I’m not your final victim.” He made a beeline back over to you, crouching to one knee. Instead of an unnerving whistle or hiss, he gave you an honest mutter in disbelief. “Please. For you?” He asked, and you curiously let him go on, “If anything you’ve told me tonight is true, about yourself and about your passion for what I’m doing, I almost want to ask for permission.”

A hand came up, sans his weapon but nail just as pristine, as he ran feather-light tracks over the outline of the tattoo resting. “I mean, you weren’t lying about your commitment to this sort of lifestyle. These all look pretty real to me.”

“Rub a little harder, even.” You dared, looking down at the primed muscles stretched on the back of his hands, “I don’t mind if you need to prove to yourself that I’m the real deal.” The pristine curl suddenly became lighter, intimidated even as it fell away, and he quickly digressed.

“It isn’t about that, the sweet honeypot at the end of every horror movie. I always thought it had something more to do with the journey, the planning…” He swung the sickle, breaking through the itchy rope and not courteous enough to keep it from catching threads from your dress. He gasped, “I’m a lot like you, in that I will admit it’s nice, but…I want this whole event to be special, you know?”

Pausing, his eyes scoured your body for a couple seconds before his two hands, the curved blade falling in his lap to give way for nimble fingers pulling the rest of the rope apart, taking it from your body and letting it fall along with the weapon. Still, most of it fell to your own lap. Looking at each other, the sigh practically tumbled from behind the mask. Whether it was relief or exhaustion, neither of you cared to label it. He almost seemed put off by something, squinting at himself more so than anything about you or what you were doing.

Then, with the same hands, he pushed the mask up over his face. Seeing him, not the mirage he had been flowing through the entire evening like water vapor, he smiled through a painted on frown. It had been an accent paint, it seemed, something to abscond in case the wooden face didn’t fool a wandering eye. Everything was smoke-colored and smudged over his expression, beginning to get sweat through, and somehow making the smile lines in his face more prominent simultaneously. It was as though you could see everything and nothing at once.

“Special,” You echoed, “I know what you mean. I know exactly what you mean, Leslie.” You cocked your head at the sound of his name on your lips, “Can I call you Leslie?”

“Absolutely. Think we’ve both earned the right to be friendly with each other.” He answered with a harmless nod, and just as swift as he had stripped down to the man that he was, he was shoving you backwards with the heels of his hands. “I honestly don’t know why you’re asking. It’s so clear you knew to use my name long before-“ He framed your arms against the dirt, pinning both the extremities, “we ended up here.” You let your head fall back, the earth supporting heavier realizations as you simply murmured, “Yeah, maybe I did.”

He shifted, as though physically feeling you would do something about this. Rough denim pulled against your bare leg, and even if you could attempt to fix your skirt, you knew you were far past the point of wanting to. Anyone who could see either of you was dead, or rather you could notice from the peripherals of your stare into his own that there was a body nearby.

Whether or not it had been intentionally turned away from the two of you, that was something you enjoyed leaving up to the imagination. You couldn’t even register before he collided into you a little too hard, his hand slipping in a pure excitement that made it hard to keep steady when he was on top of you the way that he was.

It made the fact you talked about the things that you would do about your interest in him all the more diabolical, eyes snapping open and looking past his short dark hair that had been styled by accident to stand on end from how he had removed the mask. You told all of that to his face.

When he finally pulled back, he peered down with an almost euphoric, electrified look to his eyes. “Sorry. I get a little antsy – and you probably knew that, too.” You had no idea what he was talking about until the slow ooze of blood went over the cupid’s bow of your lip. “You’re fine, they happen easily.” You almost coughed through your speech, laughing at imagining just how dishevelled he had you in a matter of a few movements, a few touches that were far from the only ones going forward.

He flicked the sickle, and you watched some stray streaks of blood fall into the dirt, permeate into a diabolical splatter of what you could assume to call mud. “…Listen, we can discuss this away from the rest of the…the party, maybe?” He asked breathlessly, and when you nodded once again leapt off of you with the same pace, the same ethereal ability.

“Well,” You let a string of bloody spit fall from your mouth, as ruby in color as your lipstick and as your shoes, letting him pull you back up by the back of your neck and suddenly hoist you off the ground. You didn’t move as he hefted you over one shoulder; rather, you turned your head and asked, “So, let me just ask this. You’re not gutting me? Stabbing me? Not even slitting the throat, letting me go out in a more iconic fashion? Where the hell are we again?”

Leslie stopped. Readjusting you, the loose threats of your dress along with your soft hip pressing into the side of his neck, he straightened the skirt over your backside with a lingering hand and hummed, “I’ll put it like this: you are not in Kansas anymore.”

Your hands rest on his back, not for lack of support, or fear that he’d drop you, but just because you could, he was right here and he was letting you. Through rough thermal material you could feel how firm he was underneath, defined muscle definitely present, fabric slightly damp from sweat and whatever else from the effort he’d expended this evening thus far. Your nose hadn’t stopped bleeding, a slow drip, he was still carrying you away, somewhere, and you watched as stray drops fell to the ground, bright red standing out amongst dark and loose dirt, like a farewell to the rest of what the party had originally thought it had got itself into. In all honesty, they all assumed it was what it was: a joke.

This was no goddamn joke, tangible as the flexing back underneath your palms.

It’s quiet for a moment, your mind is whirring, wandering as it always is, and watching the faint blood trail, dressed as you were, perched on the monster himself’s shoulder? 

It’s like something out of a fairy tail in a way. The big bad wolf and the little red victim, but instead of a trail of breadcrumbs leading to a gingerbread house, it’s a pathway marked with blood mixing into the earth, and it’s leading to-

A glance around, gaining your bearings. It clicks as soon as your eyes leave the ground. The Vernon farm house.

Oh, this is what he had in mind. He wants to bring you inside. 

You would have been fine getting anything from him, you would have let him fuck you back there in the dirt and loved every single second of it, but apparently he had other plans, better plans. 

You love who he is, and more importantly, you love who you are. 

Furthermore, you have no illusions about yourself either, and certainly no shame. You would have let him do all manner of things in the cool evening air and under the light of the moon, no less than ten feet from a body that he himself had brought to the ground. He deemed you worth more, better than a nasty fuck in the dirt- No. He thinks what you are going to do together is better suited under a roof, in a proper bed.

He thinks you are worth that extra care and effort, and he thinks you deserve the Vernon home’s comfort, warmth, safety…

You suppress a laugh as the word safety floats through your mind. He takes you inside, barely mindful enough to close the door, but enough to give the needed privacy. Up the stairs, you have to stifle another giggle, his shoulder driving up over and over into your sternum inadvertently. He doesn’t even care to notice, let alone say anything about it – especially since you seemed to be thoroughly enjoying yourself. Into the closest guest room, he slings you off of him and onto the bed.

The idea that you are safe with Leslie fucking Vernon is, laughable, hilarious, and yet – seemingly and inexplicably – true. He looks like he is too excited, like he doesn’t know what to do first.

You jump into action, knowing the role deserves such from both parties. You reach out to him, propped up on one elbow, your other hand is open, a move of your fingers, a small invitation to join you on the surprisingly plush surface, it certainly beat the dirt outside (mythos ingrained couldn’t make it any more pleasant after all). He takes you up on it, starts to crawl onto the bed, it’s not as slow as before, as if now that he’s experienced it once, he is craving to be on top of you again too much to not rush it, and soon enough he is. 

You revel in his weight on top of you again, your hand that was previously reaching out touches down on the back of his neck, you sink further into the mattress with a sigh. You speak, you ask, “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling?” He asks, and you nod once, “Yeah, after everything, we kept you pretty busy tonight, running around, you feeling tired yet, Vernon?”

A shake of his head, small smile, addressing him by his last name is fine too it seems, good to know. He tells you, “No way, not at all.”

“No?” The question is innocent in tone, but not in what you hope to gain from it, and he says, “You have no idea the stamina I am capable of.”

“Show me?”  You asked, tone thoroughly hopeful, almost offended by the notion you’d underestimate him. Still, you wanted him to make you understand, and not only that, but to not stop until he was sure you understood.

The implication is obvious, the motives clear, yet he still tilts his head a little and asks, “And just how should I do that?”

He’s being so fucking coy about it, he has to know how endlessly attractive that is to you. You fight the urge to grouse, a playful musing of, must you do everything is left unsaid.

Hand on the back of his neck moves up, fingers slide through short dark hair and thread slightly, twist as much as they are able, and you use that to tug him down as you move up so your lips meet. It’s fitting you suppose, there has to be a point where this happens, right? A shift in your dynamic. He’s still instigating, doing the set-up, but you can’t be stock static forever.

That isn’t the point, it isn’t your role. It isn’t any fun if he’s the only one doing the moving, otherwise you might as well just be one of the bodies abandoned in the dirt outside, chilling and succumbing to the elements as you two lay here.

The flavour of him hits your senses due to the union you’d just forced, mostly it’s salt and the paint he wore. It doesn’t taste like any normal make-up you’d ever worn, but it’s him, just as much as the light apple you managed to gain a sense of was. The idea of him taking a small break and eating from the orchard on the job is weirdly endearing, if not a bit funny, but there are better things to focus on. Mostly like, where the fuck did he learn to kiss like this? Was he this good, were you this hard up, or was it everything else? The tension, the build up, the chemistry or as he so succinctly put it earlier, the magnetism? 

Either way, you simply cannot bring yourself to care as he settles in closer to you, body more flush to yours, really letting you soak up the feeling of him on you, letting it consume you more easily not just into him, but the moment itself.

The rhythm and ease, back and forth, push and pull, inhale and sigh, your lips part more, and then you’d realized something vital just now, in your haste to kiss him you’d honestly forgotten about the fact you were still bleeding. You pull back, about to apologize, but that look in his eyes makes you stop again, shining in the low light of the room. The words die a quiet death on your tongue, lingering there before being buried with the taste of iron on your palette.

He doesn’t let you, his hands are on you now, too. Your grip loosens while his tightens, another shift with one hand in just about the same place yours was on him, the back of your neck. His mouth stained differently than before, more red like yours was, and he says, “Not yet.” before leaning in to take further. 

He is getting bolder, more confident, dare you even say a needier edge to this, the thought passes through your mind, How does he like it? He definitely knows himself and what he’s doing. Also, how long had it been for him?

When was the last time he had someone in his bed, kissed someone, touched another person without the express purpose and idea being violent fanfare? Clearly you are not the first, no way anyone is this capable on their first go with no previous experience to back themselves up, but when was the last time he had penetrated a warm body below him in a different sense? It sends a thrill through you, weeks, months, fuck, years? The very idea certainly made you feel special. 

You’d been returning his affection this whole time, matching him in enthusiasm and pace. You wanted to ask, to know, but should you ask right this second when his mouth felt so good slotted against yours? You could talk more later. Right now, your body is betraying what you really crave: a move of your hips against his, a grind upwards, and you feel with perfect clarity how much this is getting to him too. The friction is good but nowhere near enough, the move is repeated twice more, and it just gets better, it makes you want to go further at the warmth that is blooming inside as well as kick off your sparkly heels and shed much more clothing than just that. Something eager, like how he had collided so harshly with you just prior to this, was rushing to the hilt. Practically gagging on its leash, the seams of your panties rubbing you to near pain before anything even passed the barrier of clothing.

Again, maybe you were just that predictable. His hand tracing from the waistband of your skirt to glide along the socks, his mind was going straight to those heels. You crease your brow slightly as you feel his fingers stick past the spot where the shoes still wedged fast to your foot, and without taking his mouth off of yours, he pushes one of them off. Then, the other with a similar urgency to his movement, the same brisk shuffle of the other hand. When you glance down, he’s holding both of them in one hand, caring not to throw them to the floor but rather set them gingerly by the foot of the bed.

“Those shoes got some thought in them,” He commented when he saw where your eyes had been, “I respect the craft, so I’m not here to wreck those heel stoppers.”

“Well, that decides it,” you say in a serious and emphatic tone, with your brows still pinched together, "I have to blow you."

A laugh, small and shocked, before he asks, "Right this second?"

"Do you have a better or more appropriate time in mind, Leslie?" You say it teasingly and even after you expounded earlier about all the things you would do, even after proving your devotion to the supposed “cause”, it was as if he still didn’t believe you to back it up and be so forward. He had a lot to learn about you.

In the interest of continuing to be forward, you lean in that direction, sitting half up to meet his now kneeling position he took when removing your heels, hands are back on, setting to work on his overalls as you say, “I think I can pencil you in for around four pm next Wednesday if that suits you better?”

“Lots of jokes from you right now-” He starts, and you laugh, as if he didn’t open with one himself earlier, didn’t set the tone, the snaps undone you tell him, “Trying to keep the mood light, it was getting pretty hot and heavy there for a minute.” 

“Are you complaining about some good, solid sexual tension?” He asks as you tug the denim down. You admire the way the dirty off-white material is stretched across his arms and torso, eyes linger while your fingers abandon the straps, settling into the openings near his hips to get it the rest of the way off. “Never, just don’t want you to blow your load too fast, you know?”

“Be honest.” He implores with a smile, and you shrug, eyes break away as you say, “Maybe I want to make this last a bit longer, don’t want to rush something I’ve been wanting for so long.” 

It is honest. You want to savour it, especially because who knows if this is a once in a lifetime offer that will expire after tonight. Perhaps the sun will rise in the morning, then proceed to set on whatever is between you and him right now.

You push the thought aside as easily as you do the rest of dark muddy blue fabric with his help, no time to think about all of that when you have this right now. Enjoy the moment as it happens, for what it is, or regret it forever. Either this is the one and only, the possibilities as infinite as the entire evening felt, or the hopeful first of many, and in either scenario your full attention is deserved.

“That is something I can completely understand.” 

You’re sure he can. Tossing the clothing on the floor with much less care than he gave to your shoes, you notice his current state and ask, “Woah, commando under there, huh?”

“Freedom of movement is important. Gotta stay aerodynamic with all the running, chasing...” He points out, and your hands come up. “Never said it wasn’t”. Verbally, you reply, “Fair enough.” That doesn’t put you off, the idea of him doing this so unencumbered wasn’t bad at all. You reach out again, hands help him with his shirt, and he is more than amicable but at the same time points out, “You are still awfully dressed.”

“You know you can do something about that, anytime you want to.” Making your own point in a similar tone that he did earlier, but before he can start to worry about removing white and blue checkered frills, you are much closer. Hands on his shoulders, another kiss not stolen, but willingly given.

If the excitement you felt when making out fully clothed before was good, him bare under your exploring hands was incredible. You are torn between the feel of his mouth on yours and how the planes of his skin under your careful palms. He had some good scars, ones you would be getting a much closer look at if you weren’t so consumed with how his tongue was working into your mouth. Lower and lower, fingers trace until you are down past his ribs over a particularly gnarly scar on his side that makes him tense. A small breaking apart, lips hardly lifting from his as you ask, “You good?”

A hum of acknowledgement with a nod as you trace over it again, you think this is it, you think this is the big one he got from Her and you are touching it, evidence of their bond and connection, foraging your own private moment with it.

You don’t linger, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable but from the way he is breathing you don’t think he is bothered by it, you think he’d let you do more to it and maybe later you will.

For now your hand is concerned with going lower, thumb slipping over his hip bone until you find what you really want, a fleeting thought of empowering yourself makes a smile pass your lips briefly before you kiss him again, swallowing up the gasp he lets out from the firm grip you take.

Christ, this was going to be good, you could tell, but you can make it better still. You break away to lean down a bit, spitting into your palm before taking back your position, your hand is gliding much easier. You think of putting your mouth to better use. You don’t want to use just your hand; can anyone blame you for wanting to satisfy an intense oral fixation, something that made you hit the ground running at the drop of a dime? Not only that, but you were good at it, and you wanted to show him just how good you could be. To see what reactions you could draw from him when your fingers dig into his hips and pull him in close and down your eager throat made a mantra clear as day cross your mind, almost blinding you as you felt yourself tense slightly in anticipation. 

Stop thinking, start doing.

You make the move, sliding lower on his body. More passes of your mouth, brushes of your lips, quick pecks placed as you travel down, admiring as you go and your hand never stopping. The look on his face made him seem that he was merely allowing it, but as he got more sensitive to each meeting of your mouth against his skin, his posture was starting to slack.

Jaw to neck and neck to shoulder, his shoulder to chest and his chest down his stomach and fuck, you see it: the edge of that brutal scar. You lick your lips quickly, and the pure impulse pushes you to lean in. While tightening your grip on his shaft, your tongue licks up along the length of the raised tissue. He responds as if he’s been electrocuted, a choked sound that was desperately trying to abscond itself made you clench the empty space between your legs. It seems you took him by surprise yet again. Thank God for the hand you have on his opposite side while you work him over, or he might have just toppled right off the bed.

You let the underside of your tongue pass over it once more on your way down until you are finally stomach down on the sheets, right where you need to be. After all, previous thoughts of knowing where Her story ended and yours began was a line you were willing to dance along.

The hand on him slows as you make that first contact, you start with a kiss, something soft and akin to reverent. It’s just to kick it off, but quickly the experimenting turned to knowledge, then knowledge to want. You’re quicker now, and a hungry mouth opens as you take almost half in one go. A light moan around your mouthful, lips close and with the seal formed you suck deeply.

Some people might be grossed out by the taste of him after a night's activities. You are not one of those people. The tang of him is strong, and it is very welcome. The taste of him and heavy weight on your tongue along with remnants of the drinks from what felt like an entirely different night ago made you grind your hips into the mattress as you bob back once before driving down again – harder, taking more.

A hand finds your hair along with a quiet curse, a half smile can be heard in his tone, “Shit, you’re eager, huh?”

Eyes glance up through your lashes, along with a nod that doesn’t stop your pace. You merely slow for a moment, fingers on his hip squeeze, and you use that to draw him closer. You are going to take him to the base and swallow around the head of his dick, even if it suffocates you. Forcing your head down is easy, taking him deeper is no issue, you are plenty motivated, a straining of your neck as you keep leaning, hand pulling him towards you until finally you achieve your goal.

It took a few rocks back and forth, a minute amount taken more each time, until your nose is buried in trimmed coarse hair. Another moan reverberates out of you, somewhere deep in your throat and then up his shaft. Nails bite into his hip as you move him back a hair, and you suck down a deep breath through your nose before your lips are locked once more around his base.

You suck, your tongue moves in slow lazy circles on the underside of his shaft as an opener, yet you still listen as his breathing pitches, becoming laboured. You take the chance and give a strong swallow.

He lets out a groan, the hand in your hair threads, and he tugs, “Fuck-”

That is what you need to hear. No, that is what you live for. A telling tone, rough and faltering into something less confident. It was almost like he was vanquishing that idea, and letting it go where it needed rather than where he saw to fit. You swallow him again, and another sound pours out from above you. You repeat yourself with another swallow, a sound to match once more, and you throb.

Finding some guarded clarity for a second, he then says, “You know you, ugh, you don’t have to do all this.”

Brows quirk, and you move back, pulling him out and noting how he’s dripping in your spit. Your hand locks onto him tightly as you move seamlessly, not breaking stride, and you squarely look up. “I thought you were smart.”

He laughs breathlessly, eyes hard to see from a half confused and half pleasured grimace before he questions, “What?”

Your opposite hand comes up, thumb dispatching the spit that had slipped out, while you maintain eye contact. You tell him, “I’m not doing this to impress you, Leslie. This is just how I like to do this, or else… What am I doing here?”

You lean in and slip the head back between your lips. You suck again, his head tips back as your hand works his shaft in tandem with your mouth and then a few pumps later pop him back out, finishing your previous train of thought, “This? It’s just as much for me as it is for you. Trust me.”

You set back to work, hand slows, and you work him back into your mouth, sucking indulgently all the way, a blanket of bliss taking over. Fingers are loose around the base of his shaft, and you bob your head up and down. The rhythm is casual and easy, you are just having fun with it at this point.

Like the loosening grip on control, he seemed more than happy to let you play. It gave him the time to have what you said linger on his mind.

A minute later, he then let his head fall back down and asked, “What do you mean, it’s just as much for you?”

You didn’t want to stop, so you think you can show rather than tell. Your hand that wasn’t holding him in place while you continue to fuck your mouth with him slips down. A hand goes up your skirt and into your underwear, finally giving reprieve to that wall that kept the last of hidden details from what was before both of you.

Fingers slip down, and you are soaked.

You pushed two into yourself, and gasp as much as you can with him in your mouth. You rock back and forth, fucking yourself on your fingers, and God, that felt so good. You linger for a moment before your hand is pulled out and held up, still shivering from the inside out from its protrusion. His fingers catch your wrist, and he brings it closer to see them slick, a mess running down them and strings of arousal breaking apart when you splay your fingers. 

Undeniable evidence of just how much this particular act does for you. 

You’d hoped he would understand, and he does. Synchronicity is further bliss, so much so that you have this much of a read on him. It was something more satisfying than just grazing the books, the articles written capturing mere glimpses of him. For fuck’s sake, he has your fingers in his mouth. He sucks and tastes you, and apparently likes it so much he moans (not in a dissimilar fashion to how you did upon tasting him.)

Fuck, you had it so badly for him. 

You hadn’t wanted to stop. Urges to keep going until drool was trailing down your chin and neck were throttling you, and you were a breathless mess who was somehow even wetter by the end of it. Looking up, it was becoming clear that he had other plans. It’s shown on how his face once again grew dark, similar to what you had seen when the mask had come off. Eyes fixated on your face, taking in features with a few restless heaves of his shoulders, a still ocean in his expression as he thought for another second.

“You want to know about me?” He asked, smiling as he let go of your wrist. “Let’s scratch that. This business is a lot about improv, if you didn’t already know, and here comes an improvised thought.” He readjusted, finding some footing in the way he was kneeling, and he leaned in a little more – to a point where you could smell yourself on his breath. Another grind against you, he shuddered out the words.

“Let me get to know a little more about you for a second.”

You were frozen in place, merely humming in response as he suddenly turned his attention lower. With a smoothing motion, your skirt rode up your hips along with the heels of his hands, pushing it like something in his way, which you suppose it is.

Suddenly, just as quick and almost erratic as he had been the more he was enjoying himself, enjoying this, and enjoying you – he was off the bed for a split second. You didn’t watch, just waited, made yourself more comfortable, because it was a pattern of his to come back when he did that. Your mouth feels tragically empty at the loss of him, but you have a good feeling whatever he is about to do will more than make up for it. 

“God, they’re the same color as the slippers-” He lamented for half a second, speaking of your red panties he had revealed when he moved your skirt out of the way, but as soon as he had left he was back. Something cold slid underneath the fabric of your underwear, and with a thoughtful turn to rest on a small edge between your skin and the elastic made you realize what it was.

How did you not see that coming? He held it with a steady hand, a semblance of trying to keep some control with something so sharp, as he caught his breath. Pulling upwards in an almost savage motion shattered the otherwise serene, quiet moment.

“Sorry if you were thinking about wearing those again.” He shrugged, no remorse in his tone. You chuckled at that and replied, “You think I’d get rid of them even after that?” As you finished the rhetorical question, you saw him holding them in an iron grip with the hand that didn’t have the sickle.

“Not what I meant.” He said the obvious aloud, and in a quick move of his arm he threw them out of sight, “Good luck finding those again.” You scoffed, head falling back on the bed as you lamented, “Will it be as hard as learning your na-”

He cut you off again, this time with a hand feeling your entrance with the same careful precision he had given with the weapon. It was your turn to shudder, fingers curling in response to the feeling almost immediately as you got your last word out, “Naaaame?”

“Everyone knows my name.” Leslie reminded you, “At least, around here. I’ve done a great job with making it all common knowledge, but…” You stared with lidded eyes as he finally let the middle finger pass your walls, unable to keep the expression of a surprise that broke the final assumption that you couldn’t feel this wet, this hot. Neither of you could keep talking, awe striking both of you from making the connection.

The moment overtakes, there is one thought that breaks through the haze, lingering in the now mostly empty space of your mind, “Leslie Vernon is inside of me.” 

To be fair, he always has been it seems, once you learned about him, it was like he set up camp in your mind, your heart – fucking Hell, into the very marrow of your bones, he took root, curling around your spine all the way up your brain stem. It’s like an infection, poisoning you, making you sick.

You never wanted to get better. If this is what being ill is, then you want to be staying under forever. He’s been in you in every way but a very physical way, but now?

As he almost totally withdraws his middle finger and then adds his ring finger next, he has broken that last barrier, and you need to hold on for dear life to keep yourself from spiralling out. You writhed slightly, trying not to clench your legs and prevent him from doing what he needed to. He started to pump a few times, but it was growing too much again. That same face falling over him like a blanket, he ducked down. His fingers felt incredible, but his tongue was something that made an involuntary gasp come with an inhale, then a shaky cry fall from you with an exhale.

He was mute, focused with a furrowed brow as his mouth merely ghosted, then settled into where he felt fit best. One lick up through your folds had him deciding quietly that he needed to get more comfortable for this, wanting as much of you exposed as possible. Fingers leave you and his hands lock onto your hips. He tugs you down as he moves, showing his strength, no matter how you had made him look weak in full view. The reminders he could do anything he wanted prompts a small moan to slip out.

He has his knees to rough hardwood, your legs remain splayed, and he gets to it. 

You’d thought about this very thing often. It had been an impossibility, a complete pipe dream to be taken by his mouth, but here he was turning the thoughts into one hell of a reality. There had to be a figure that he was rather good at that, even outside his other work. You look down the length of your body to see those weathered hands resting atop your thighs, his eyes closed and that mouth of his getting into a rhythm of doing some frankly criminal things, neck muscles flexing in the process.

His tongue was eager but minded its pace, going from bottom to top, hole all the way up and over straining and hyper sensitive flesh before repeating the action. It made you tense with a quick inhale as your body became taut, the easy simmer of pleasure from the first contact. The tension and tease of a rise upward culminating in the bright burst of feeling that hits when he passes over your clit, to then the leftover buzz when he pulls away briefly to drop back to do it all over again.

It’s wonderful, it’s maddening, and before you could even hope to start to put together the thoughts to form a sentence to complain he knew, somehow he knew just when to move on.  His mouth becomes much more focused, the movements are drawn out and unhurried. Very comfortable, light brushes of his tongue over your twitching bud through the hood make your body respond in kind, unable to remain still. You are so perfectly worked up, it is like you can feel every move, no matter how miniscule with rough palms holding your legs in place during the times they jerk more heavily, and a rough stubble scraping against the edges of your inner thighs. His lips, soft, slick and pliable – they’re phenomenal.

He’s intuitive. You knew this going in, but he is paying very close attention and realizes that gentle passes of his tongue are doing more than something firmer and with more pressure, the real winner though? Using his lips to, not even suck really, more he was just using them to provide smooth gliding and very wet friction, the heat and careful attention is doing you in, the amount of touch is perfect, the pleasure it hoists upon you is near overwhelming.

It’s like a kiss, honestly. A filthy, completely mind-bending, make your knees give out if you were standing kiss, but a kiss all the same. It’s intense, passionate, makes your head spin and fingers twist into the sheets harder. You aren’t even aware of the sounds you are making as your thighs squeeze his head, pitched moans and cries, out of breath and broken praise and encouragement that spills forth without thought. It’s quiet, whispered out hushed over the wet sounds of his mouth as he worked, “Leslie-”

You sound wrecked as you tell him, somehow finding the words to utter, “-jus-just like that-” and he does as asked, keeps the stride. In moments, it has you begging, a weak and pathetic plea of, “-don’t stop, ple-ase, fuck!”

He hums in acknowledgement, and that makes your legs move involuntarily again with a gasp. One of his hands lifts off your thigh, but you are much too consumed with the seal of his lips around your clit, the quick passes of his tongue and the pressure building steadily to notice his hand moving. The loudest moan of the night is torn from you when his hand is back between your legs, those same fingers taking up the same space they occupied before. 

You are even wetter by this point, the two fingers slide into you with no resistance at all and at first? He doesn’t do anything with them, he just allows himself to sit inside, let you use him as something to clench on, to feel the effect he is having on you, the flex and pulsing of your walls. Within another minute of your breathing getting worse, more pleas that somewhat resemble words but fall short, that is when he curves them, curls them up and with one pass he finds it, the rougher and spongier tissue and he presses. 

You choke out the first half of his name, a cry of, “Les-!” 

His mouth is still providing that light and simple stimulation, exploiting how sensitive and easy you were, but his fingers decide to be steady, relentless, consistent presses to that same spot over and over. 

You were done, gone, fate was sealed, right on the precipice and nothing was going to stop it from happening, as inevitable as him and you ending up here, you were going to come. 

Words were not needed, as if you could form any right now. He knew, all too aware, with lips around your clit and two fingers deep inside you. Your eyes slip closed, brows are creased, and you are trembling; that bad habit of yours creeping up again, so totally consumed with feeling and sensation, on the bleeding edge of what might be the biggest orgasm of your life that you are not currently breathing. Holding a lungful of air in, your form taut and your body rife with tension. In that wonderful plateau of fantastic torture of that compact moment before it all hits, the space prior to the world splitting and your mind going blank from pleasure. He is consistent and that is just what is needed to slip over and finally fall. 

The first natural reaction is to let out that breath you’d been holding in, as the string snaps and the pressure begins to unravel you, an unsteady exhale that is broken in the middle leaves you, a sharp gasp back in. The sound you let out could be read as his name, it is like it starts off with the “Le-” sound and then instead becomes a chorus of this breathy sound, not a laugh, but close enough. It seems that way because of the open-mouthed smile that has taken over your face. Losing control of the breaths that followed after, you let yourself tumble through an ether of forgetting who you were, who he was – you just knew there was a connection feeling one hell of a hot flash, a touch between one another that could fuel your interest for lifetimes.

You squirm and shift, his fingers were still pumping in and out of you, the other hand on your hip, holding you firmly in place, so you couldn’t wiggle away, making you feel every second of it as he feels it from his side too, every twitch and clench. His tongue has slowed, light passes over your clit still caught between his lips, keeping the stimulation going is vital, ensuring the most feeling out of your peak but still managing to not overwork you. 

You don’t think you can adequately describe how good it feels, but you can’t describe much of anything when you are totally thoughtless like you are right now. It takes a while for the feeling to ebb and slow and eventually stop, and you to return to yourself. Your breathing returning to some semblance of normal was still a ways off yet. You felt weak, boneless and helpless. You barely notice him lifting his mouth or his fingers slipping out of you, the only acknowledgement of the loss of contact a short exhale and your eyes starting to open, you feel the movement of him before you register the sights, eyes taking a moment to refocus. 

How could you even begin to describe the look on his face at this moment? Eye’s alight, chin wet, grin on his face and teeth partially exposed, you’d think the look he wore was one full of mischief and promise of what is to come, pure unadulterated excitement for what is next. You think your own face is betraying your own true emotions as well, and you are positive that yours match his, if anything you think you have a much more distinct tint of want. When he adjusts, between your legs, hands hooked under your knees and grinding himself against you? That shows that you are more than ready, more than wanting. The small smile that was on your face, playful and light, drops as his shaft cuts through you, sliding up over and through your folds, the head of him passing over your clit, and it steals your breath again, 

Another movement of his body against yours, of his hips slotting against you, has you sucking in a hard inhale, and the next move to rush the exhale. Head tipping back, a hushed call of his name for the who knows how many-th time tonight. Enveloped by a thud that brings his hips into yours, a cover of heat that fills your entire body and makes you nearly lose grip of the bed underneath you as you adjust to the push.

Your vision is fixed on the main point of contact between you and him, of him hard against you, soaked, it felt much better than it had any right to. In the frenzied process of him eating you out your costume has gotten even more messed up, the hem of the skirt pulled higher, you are glad for that, more skin on skin contact is always good of course but with the blue and white out of the way there is no worry of the view being obstructed. 

The visual was stellar, his breathing was matching yours and that makes you tear your gaze away up to his face. Your eyes catch his, your breathing is pitched and in sync, chests rising and falling and staring into each other, it escalates further without direct communication. His body moves a tad lower, your hips angle, and then he is lined up just right, slick tip leaking pre-cum prodding at your more than prepared hole. It takes less than ten seconds for you to be telling him in a half annoyed and hurried voice, “Do it already Verno-”

You don’t get his last name out. A hand suddenly comes up from where it had been placed lower on your body to find a hold around the base of your neck, pushing the muscles on either side together. It was something secure, helping to keep your head angled up, but also a reminder of who needed to stay in control. Especially catching the glimpse of his eyes, elusive as ever. If you hadn’t been far too down this rabbit hole, you’d want to bargain that. Truly, who was pushing whose buttons?

His own face changing, a setting of his jaw, eyes harder and committing to focus on yours. He takes, slides home fucking finally and fills you to the hilt. You don't cry out yet, instead opting to make a sound akin to a strangled whine. Hands reach out blindly, unconsciously, wanting to cling to something, to him, a desperate attempt to ground yourself using his body as the means to an end. Your nails scrape against skin as he moves back, taking half of himself out before forcing back in all the way, changing the previous sound to a gasp and that sound, is what changes all of this, really sets it all in motion. Like he knew you had doubted the control within him, and that just made you all the more palpable to what came.

It isn’t tentative or nervous, confidence is gained quickly, it feels right, correct, a give and take that has you and him not working against each other but instead with one another. His hands lock back around your waist, you arch closer, a flick of your tongue against his throat, tasting the salt of his skin has him driving into you deeper, and so it goes. You are trying to hold on, literally, while you adjust to the stretch of him as well as the gravity of the situation, Leslie-fucking-Vernon is inside of you right now, holding you, fucking you. 

How the Hell are you meant to cope with this? You hoped, but weren’t even truly sure he was real until you met him, and now a good roll of his hips had you moaning something close to his name. You’d wonder what your life was, what it had turned into, but why would you question such a good thing? In fact, where you would be and go after this was as far from you as it possibly could. You, instead, in a very healthy move by the way, lean closer still, lips brush the shell of his ear, nearly chest to chest you ask quietly, rushed, “Fuck me harder?”

You are met with a simple and single word, hummed out in a tone that tried to find some sort of sharp edge of condescending but falling just short of fascination instead, “Demanding.”

There was a brief reposition, making sure both of you were ready for some goddamn finale that this night deserved. He’d more than proven his strength to you by this point, and yet you still find ways to be amazed by how he shows it to you, in the sheer force he exerts as he complies with your needy request. It’s good, more than good, but you know it could be better still, the mental stimulation was incredible alone, just a little more was needed. His grip on your waist is keeping you right where he wants, holding you firmly to the mattress, but you do what you can, what you need, feet finding some purchase on the sheets, a slight bending of the knees and you, or rather he, found it. The reaction is immediate and obvious, the moan you were midway through is choked, a tremble that nearly rivals the first ones that wracked your body when he made you cum with his mouth and your own mouth clamping shut. Thighs squeezing his hips and your soaked hole clenching around him tighter, he doubts the hint could be more obvious if it was a neon sign flashing in his face. 

Doesn’t mean he still wasn’t going to be just a bit of an asshole about that, mostly, because he knew you got off on that kind of thing. He holds in you, a purposeful grind that stimulates you both inside and out, a pathetic sound tries to break out as your eyes shut, and he asks, “You okay?” 

You nod, short, curt, he isn’t relenting, another grind but this one ends with him pulling halfway out before filling you completely again, this time you can’t stop the moan that slips out, “You sure? You are being awfully quiet.” 

Before you can try to conjure a reply or attempt to defend yourself, he stops playing around, no more easy but devastating grinds he is back to the previous pace he was setting. There is no true reason to be holding back, who was going to overhear you? The corpses outside? It was laughable, further still, you couldn’t shut up now, not with how he’d locked onto just where you needed him. The litany of moans and gasps might be embarrassing if you weren’t currently drowning in pleasure, you are very unaware of much, just focused on the fact that you needed this feeling to continue, it was overwhelming in the best possible way. Nails biting into his skin and your eyes locked on his, hardly able to process any visuals, you can hear his voice again over the heaving breaths and skin on skin. 

His question makes you realize he was responding to you speaking, brain on autopilot it’s sluggish but catches up. You are connecting the dots through the context clues of his words, his near saccharine and condescending tone and question of, “Yeah? Right there?” 

Makes you come to the fact that you must have been letting out a surely pitiful chorus of, “Ri-right there, right there-”

You lean in further, hoping if you debase yourself further still he’d continue, he’d see this through, he’d make you break apart as strongly and beautifully as he did before. “Yesss-”

You were not far off at this rate, perfectly worked up and so sensitive. 

If the build up before could be described as a slow climb of a staircase, you’d say this one is more akin to an elevator ride that you can feel in your stomach, a rushed ride to the top but one you wouldn’t dare dream of complaining about. The height feels as though you were on top of the world all the same, where nothing could reach you quite like the view would. Looking to him, you concurred it was just as breathtaking. You don’t need to tell him, again, everything else about your body language and the fact he is stuffed to the hilt inside of you tells him you are nearly there. 

The state of being stuck in that lovely frustrating plateau was nowhere near as long as the first, from near the edge, to on it, to thrown the fuck over happened faster than you thought possible. He helped you, continued to hold you, fuck you through it and wring every ounce of pleasure he can out of your spasming cunt. The come down isn’t easy because he simply is refusing to let up, even when you try to pull back a bit, adjust, he isn’t having it, hands slide from your waist to under your legs, resting behind your knees. You can’t escape, he holds your legs closer, pressing them down, he abuses you further, enjoying how you reacted to the intense over stimulation. 

You find your voice again, use it for something more than moaning incoherently, “Leslie-fuck, please, ease up-” 

A minute shake of his head, his grip under your knees tightens, a hard swallow he tells you firmly, forces out, “You can take it.”

You clench around him again, another pulse of heat races through you. “Oh my God-” You gasp out, he’s right, for him, you could and would do just about anything. 

You try not to be crushed under the intensity as you look up at him, and that’s when it hits you, the uneven pace of his breath, thrusts becoming more erratic, he’s close himself and the prospect of him reaching his own end buried inside you is unbelievably exciting. One more word is grit out, “Almost-”

In your fervent excitement, you nearly cut him off, begging for it, “Do it.”

You don’t plead for him to not pull out, you don’t wrap your legs around his hips, you want him to make the choice himself, willingly, craving him to take that leap and that risk with you. Your streak of good luck has not yet run out because he does just that, another slam of his hips into yours, and he cums, holds mostly still, the force of it makes him shudder with your name on his tongue, and you feel near endless pride at that. The shudder of his shoulders completes an already perfect picture, something that would linger like cobwebs in your head.

It’s quiet now, no more noise from the bed or from your bodies against one another, just heavy breathing, and you aren’t in a rush to go, but slowly you do untangle. Your hands slip away as do his, legs are back on the mattress, and he slips out of you, the mess that follows that action staining the sheets and thankfully not your hiked up costume. He falls beside you, and you aren’t sure what to do from there, is it weirder to want to cuddle up with him or to not? 

The same question about whether you should leave is on your mind but, he answers both, an adjustment, an arm around you as he sighs out, “You already ran enough earlier, you can stay a while.”

You let your eyes close as you get comfier and do just that, he might be a killer but he’s courteous enough to let you get a few hours sleep in his bed before you go. 

Even as you began the long walk out, you still weren’t quite sure what to do to cope with meeting Leslie Vernon. Even waiting until the Sun was up to let yourself be known to the world again, a new soul forged from a night you couldn’t even begin to explain to others – let alone rationalize to yourself – didn’t do much for your mind, bogged with a confusion that only knew one thing.

You had enjoyed it despite all that had happened. It still touched your skin, scents still held in your costume, and stepping onto the uneven earth again, you then concurred you knew two things.

You still had the heel stoppers on.

Traversing the uneven road back towards Glen Echo. They were doing their job fairly well, albeit the muscles in your legs were singing another kind of song, straining at any sign of a bend or a shift in your weight. Scanning the surrounding area, you were nearly left thoughtless – because speechless was well and achieved, sitting like a plug in your throat.

There was no one left. Presumably all of the people who had come with you were dead – or left in a state of hopeless confusion just like yourself. For them, it’d be time to put together the facts on what had really happened that night.

But for you? It was the time to paint alongside Leslie’s own fantasy. You had spoken with him about what to say, where everyone had gone, and what had exactly happened to you. It was as gorgeous as the rest of his work, and something you felt rather unique to be touched by, to know the truth behind the…

Behind the mask.

The feeling you were being watched was well weighted on your shoulders, and there was something ever so taunting about knowing when you turned around or tried to meet it, there would be no way to talk to him. Leslie was an open book – you could even call him an open heart, but he also had a job and a name to keep pristine and mysterious as it had been when you had entered the domain of the Vernon orchard.

You considered it a little funny, then a little unexplainable. That just made the thoughts tread foggier water. Part of you wondered if it had even happened, knowing that it didn’t sound serious as you kept telling the story to yourself while walking home. He had given you something straight out of a fantasy, and you then concurred that was his specialty, wasn’t it? There was a solemn recognition that you were going to be the only one that should hear about it.

Still, you then shifted, feeling that there were no longer panties under the dress, (he ended up being right, you couldn’t find them, unsure if they were genuinely lost, or he stole them). That was no joke.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Still on the list

Pairing: Frat!College!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, the infamous frat guy, known for sleeping around and throwing parties left and right, constantly invites you, out of all people, to all of them. His intentions though remain a mystery to you. Following a troubling event that leaves you shaken and anxious, Bucky is there to pick up the pieces. Stolen glances and exchanged smiles gradually blossom into a connection that goes beyond what meets the eye.

Word count: 14.1k

Warnings: annoyance to friends to lovers; panic attacks!; creepy man; angst and comfort; Bucky is a frat boy

author’s note: This took longer than I hoped, but I love it!

Masterlist

One minute.

One minute did it take for the class to end and yet it felt like an eternity.

You stared at the clock in anticipation, not paying an ounce of attention to what your professor was talking about.

Was he even talking?

Were you supposed to write something down?

You wouldn’t know.

RIING

Finally, the blissful sound of the bell pierced through the monotony.

You took your eyes off the clock in the far corner of the lecture hall, a sigh of relief leaving your lips and started packing your stuff.

“Alright class! See you on Monday! Have a great weekend.” Your professor exclaimed before walking out of the hall with a wave.

Amidst the chorus of thank you’s and see you on Monday’s and packing your laptop in your bag, alongside your pen and notebook (basically for small, unnecessary doodles, instead of notes) including your water bottle, you noticed Wanda slipping onto the bench beside you with her backpack draped over her right shoulder and an amused smile plastered on her face.

“Late again,” she teased.

You groaned. “Blame that slowpoke of a bus driver.”

“You know you can always ride with Pietro and me.” She nudged your shoulder playfully.

You offered her a grateful smile but shook your head. “It’s inconvenient for you.”

After being forced to live on campus for your first year of college you decided to get a small apartment to save some money and get the privacy you wanted and needed. Living on campus was expensive enough and with the small amount of money you got for working in a café and babysitting sometimes in the evening there wasn’t much left for you to enjoy yourself a little.

You never really enjoyed living in a dorm together with someone you didn’t know and sharing that same space. Your roommate for that first year was perpetually boisterous and tried dragging you to every party within a five-mile radius. Despite your initial resistance, you eventually succumbed to peer pressure. After enduring an eternity of loud music and plastic cups thrust into your hand, you found yourself in the grim confines of a bathroom stall, holding back your roommate‘s unruly hair as she retched into the toilet bowl. It was a moment of disillusionment that solidified your resolve to seek solitude and sanctuary away from the chaos of dormitory life.

Though you hated every minute of that day, in the end, you were glad you went, because it was where you met Wanda.

As fate would have it, Wanda found herself reluctantly dragged to the same party by none other than her brother, Pietro. Aforementioned guy managed to catch your roommate since she ‘accidentally’ slipped in front of him. She kept giggling with his arms draped around her and you apologized to him and Wanda though you knew it was actually really not your fault.

So while your roommate occupied Pietro you had a pleasant conversation with his sister. You clicked immediately.

“It takes ten minutes Y/n, it’s truly no big deal.”

“Well, I’ll keep it in mind! Thanks, Wan!”

You walked out of the hall and crossed campus together. Since you just had this one lecture today you signed in for a shift at the café you worked at and were just about to bid Wanda goodbye when-

“Maximoff!”

You didn’t make any attempt to even try not to roll your eyes.

Wanda turned around and so did you eventually, not concealing your dissatisfaction with the approaching guy, a scowl forming on your face.

Bucky Barnes.

Of course.

Now, there were a lot of things you tolerated. It was hard to rile you up, but Bucky Barnes? He exceeded every limit.

You couldn’t stand the guy. And he knew it.

He caught up to you girls and kept his attention on your friend.

“Hey, Wanda! You have a minute?”

Before she could react he turned to you, pretending to see you just now.

“Oh. Y/n! Haven’t seen you there.”

You wanted to punch that arrogant grin off his face.

“What do you want?”

“Well as I was gonna ask Wanda,” he emphasized her name with a playful drawl and turned to her, “You and your brother are coming today right? Sam got the drinks and we got a new beer pong table. We gotta initiate it correctly.”

Another eye roll escaped you as Wanda shot you a brief, amused glance before addressing Bucky. “Pietro’ll come. The party was the only thing he talked about this morning.”

“Perfect!” Bucky grinned. “You’ll come too right? You can have a plus one!” He nodded his head towards you while meeting your steely gaze with unwavering confidence.

“Nothing will get me to enter your stupid frat party Barnes!” you retorted dryly.

Bucky’s grin remained firmly in place, his cockiness bordering on infuriating.

“Well I’ll be there,” he declared, turning his attention toward you with a smirk.

You cocked your head. “There’s the reason why.”

A soft sigh from Wanda diverted your attention, prompting you to check the time on your phone.

“Whatever, I gotta go!” With a brief hug, you bid her goodbye.

“Text me later?”

“Course, Wan!”

You flashed her a quick smile before striding away, ignoring Bucky’s futile attempt to prolong the conversation.

“Where ya goin' ?” he shouted after you.

“Work!” Your response was curt and you continued your way.

****

“That’ll be 4.75$.”

The girl in front of you swiped her card through the card reader and you placed the cup with her latte on the counter separating you.

You thanked her for the small tip and turned away when she left, to stock up on the coffee beans. You leaned down and grabbed the bag out of a drawer from under the counter as you heard the door to the shop open.

Your coworker went to the storage room to store the milk that came in a few minutes before and it wasn’t that busy so you were good on your own out front.

“Just a sec!” you called while opening the bag and pouring the beans in, standing with your back to the counter.

“All good! I’m in no hurry.”

You stilled for a second, almost pouring over the beans. Although you couldn’t see him right now you could tell he wore that shit-eating grin again.

You pulled the bag away harshly with a few falling out. You would take care of that later. Probably not though.

You put the bag aside, preparing yourself to turn around, and came face to face with the one and only Bucky Barnes.

Seriously?

Two times in a day?

You wiped over your apron and met his gaze. “What can I get you?” You tried feigning that kindness you were supposed to show your guests though you knew you could try more.

Not taken aback by your grimace and still slightly annoyed tone he leaned on the counter and pretended to contemplate what to get.

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at him.

“I think I’ll go for a black coffee,” He grinned at you.

You uncrossed your arms to get to work. “Small, medium, large?” You were really trying to stay professional here.

“I’ll take it medium, doll.”

It wasn’t the first time he called you that, though you‘ve heard it come out of his mouth plenty of times to plenty of girls so you guessed he didn’t even recognize he was calling you that too.

You got to work while Bucky watched you intently, still leaning on the counter.

You hoped he would stay silent but guessed that thought was futile since he walked in here.

“So, you think about coming?”

“No.”

“No, you haven’t thought about it or no, you aren’t coming?”

“Both.”

It wasn’t the first time he somehow tried to get you to come to one of his frat parties. Be it through Wanda or Pietro or just blatantly asking you to come. You knew your answer every time. He should have known that too but he seemingly never stopped trying.

“Aww, come on doll! Already put you on the list.”

“Do whatever you please Barnes but I’m not coming,” you retorted while finishing up his coffee and sliding it across the counter over to him. “That’ll be 2.95$.”

Will Wanda come?” He didn’t attempt to grab the cup, instead he stayed rooted and looked at you.

“Don’t know. Maybe”

After that party your former roommate dragged you to, you avoided them at all costs and managed not to attend any other. Wanda sometimes came along with Pietro to get him back home after drinking too much. You considered coming along for moral support a few times but didn’t want to give Bucky the satisfaction of getting you to come. And Wanda always claimed she‘d be fine.

He leaned to take the cup of coffee and a milk pack from beside where you were standing.

“Alright well, you know where to go,” he slid over a 5$ bill. “Keep the change!” He lifted the cup a bit. “And thanks!” Giving you his signature smirk.

“Barnes that’s too much for a single coffee!” you protested and were about to collect his change but he was already halfway out of the shop.

“Keep it!” he threw over his shoulder and you looked after him a little irritated.

His persistence annoyed you to no end so why did your lips curl up in a smile, despite yourself?

****

You didn’t come.

It was nearly midnight and you found yourself nestled in your bed, the soft glow of your laptop illuminating the room as you rewatched a movie for the umpteenth time.

There probably would be a few things you’d like to do instead, but going to one of Bucky's notorious frat parties, will just never be one of them.

You couldn’t even really tell why you held such a grudge against the guy. He never really was explicitly rude or anything, yet there was something about his demeanor that rubbed you the wrong way.

Bucky Barnes had been a constant presence on campus since day one. Whether it was in the hallways or outside the building, Bucky was always surrounded by a rotating cast of admirers, girls vying for his attention. It became a familiar sight to see him engrossed in conversation with yet another girl, his charm seemingly boundless.

Amidst the flurry of attention and admiration that surrounded Bucky, there were moments when his gaze seemed to linger in your direction as if seeking to ensnare your attention as he did with others. You’d catch him looking at you in the hallways. You’d see him standing outside your lecture hall, although he didn’t even attend this class. However, you never attempted to acknowledge him and were set on keeping your distance.

In your second semester, you found yourself sharing a course with him. That was where he first initiated interactions with you. At first, it was a subtle passing glance, a nod, and a smile of acknowledgment, but soon his efforts to engage with you became more pronounced. It started with a request for notes when he wasn’t there the other day. And then there were times when you ran late and he saved you a seat beside him, sending you a wave and a charming grin.

But then you would watch him effortlessly flirt with other girls, letting them sit on his lap and whispering in their ear, you having the front row seat. You couldn’t pinpoint why his flirting with other girls left a bitter taste in your mouth, but it deepened your reservation, solidifying your decision to maintain a sense of distance.

Despite not sharing any classes with Bucky in your second year, he seemed determined not to let your lack of proximity deter his efforts to engage with you. His persistent attempts to catch your attention continued unabated - although you never gave him much to work with - seeming to find a way to cross paths with you all the time.

The first time he asked you to come to one of his frat parties, you were sitting in a small booth at a café near campus, nursing a latte and discussing your professors together with Wanda and Pietro.

You laugh. “Right? She once even gave-”

“Pietro! Hey, man,” comes his voice across the café and Bucky Barnes approaches you three.

You drop your smile and divert your attention to your latte as Bucky greets Pietro and Wanda.

“Y/n! Nice to see you.” His voice dripping with charm.

Upon hearing your name you lift your head and offer a strained smile, hoping to convey at least a semblance of politeness.

“Hi,” you answer lamely, not an ounce of enthusiasm found in your voice.

Bucky’s smirk deepens in response, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Your smile turns into a grimace.

“You coming tonight man?” he asks Pietro.

“Course Buck! I‘ll be there.”

“Great!” His attention turns to you.

“You girls are welcome too, you know.”Although addressing both, Wanda and you, he keeps his gaze on you.

“Yeah, no thanks!”

“We’ll think about it!”

Wanda sends you a glare, reminding you to stay nice. Though Bucky doesn’t seem fazed by your lack of interest, the boyish smirk still present on his lips.

“Well, I’d be happy to see you.”

You don’t even have time to answer him when a brunette, standing at the counter, calls his name.

You look in her direction though his eyes remain on you a few seconds longer until he turns away and bids his goodbye. Wanda and Pietro answer him while you remain silent, taking refuge in your coffee cup.

He was attractive, you gotta give him that but you never were someone to go after looks. There were so many more important things to see in people. Sure, you don’t know how he treated or saw his flings, or hookups, or whatever but you supposed you didn’t wanna know.

****

After you worked your ass off at the café during the weekend you were more than unpleased to be sitting in your lecture hall at 8 in the morning on a Monday. At least the bus was on time you supposed.

Wanda slid in beside you and put down a cup of coffee in front of you before unpacking her backpack.

“Oh god Wan, you’re an Angel!” You took a big sip and sighed dramatically.

Wanda snickered softly, organizing her notes.

“You know, Pietro told me someone was a bit disappointed,” she began and you looked at her confused.

“The party,” she continued but you just stared at her oblivious.

She sighed. “He hoped you’d come this time.” She studied you with a careful expression but you saw the corners of her lips turning up lightly.

You blinked. “Why would he think that?”

Wanda shrugged. “Well he’s pretty persistent,” She studied you some more and you began to feel uneasy, “You could give him a chance.”

“Huh?” you mumbled, caught off guard.

Turning toward you fully, Wanda leaned in slightly. “I don’t really know him that well, but he’s different with you. Pietro’s mentioned it. He’s never made this much effort with anyone else.“

Perplexed, you pondered her words.

“And honestly,” Wanda continued, “He’s a nice guy. I mean I get he’s got girls around all the time-”

You grimaced.

“-but he’s not the guy to lead anyone on or make someone feel worthless, I’m sure of it.”

That got you silent and you looked at her, pouting your lips in contemplation.

“He had a girlfriend once but as far as Pietro knows it didn’t end well. She moved away and they tried that long-distance relationship crap-”

You raised an eyebrow.

“-but she then started seeing someone else without telling him.”

You exhaled deeply, processing the information. “Alright well that sucks…sure…but is that a reason to use girls like that?”

“How are you so sure that’s what this is?” Wanda countered

Before you could respond, your professor arrived, saving you from further discussion. You were kinda glad he was on time cause you really had no idea how to answer that. You couldn’t know what he does with those girls. What he told them. How he treated them. How he made them feel.

Actually

You didn’t know anything about him at all.

****

Nearly two weeks had passed and you haven’t seen Bucky since he came by the café you worked at. Despite your efforts to push him out of your mind, you found yourself occasionally thinking about him or scanning the hallways for a glimpse of him.

Wanda got sick the day prior so you were sitting alone in class. After making idle conversation with some fellow students, you decided to stay back and finish up your notes.

You heard footsteps approaching but didn’t look up until someone settled beside you.

“That looks kinda complicated.”

Irritation bubbled up, but you were surprised to find you didn’t immediately feel the urge to roll your eyes all the way up to your brain at the sound of his voice. Reluctantly, you turned to face him, a sigh leaving your lips

“What are you doing here? This isn’t even your class!”

“Came looking for ya,” he replied, that familiar smirk playing on his lips.

You returned your attention back to your notes. “What for?”

“Shouldn’t you be able to tell?” He grinned and bumped your upper arm lightly.

That was the first time he initiated any form of physical contact and you weren’t sure what to make of it.

“Another party, I assume,” you remarked plainly.

“Smart girl! Missed you the last time.”

“Then have fun missing me this time as well,” you retorted, not bothering to look at him.

You felt his eyes on your profile but didn’t turn to him.

“Well just wanted to let you know you’re still on the list,” he said, his voice laced with that characteristic smirk.

That dude really wouldn’t give up, would he?

Quickly finishing your notes and packing away your things, you draped your bag over your shoulder, ready to leave the hall. As you turned to go, you glanced back at him.

“I’ll think about it,” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm, though deep down you couldn’t deny that small part of you, that was considering his invitation this time.

****

The party started by now.

Standing in your bedroom you wavered on the threshold of the decision to go to his party or not.

You found yourself grappling with uncertainty, questioning the motivations behind your sudden inclination to attend the party. Was it a twinge of guilt for his past misfortunes that nudged you towards empathy? Or perhaps a genuine curiosity sparked by the desire to unravel the enigma of his persistent invitations?

You pondered, your thoughts swirling. Perhaps this was all a game to him? Or maybe there was something deeper, something he needed to prove to himself or to others.

Yet, the idea of subjecting yourself to potential humiliation at a frat party churned your stomach. You had no desire to be caught in the whirlwind of debauchery and recklessness.

But Wanda didn’t really make him seem like the kinda guy to pull shit like that.

Though how could she be sure?

The sudden ringing of your phone shattered the swirling thoughts that had consumed you, pulling you back to the present moment. With a grateful sigh, you glanced down at the screen, Wanda’s name lighting it up.

“Hey Wan,” you greeted her while laying back on your bed.

“Hey Y/n. I assume you’re not at the party.”

“Nope, you know me.”

“Okay well, could I ask for a favor?” Wanda’s voice held a hint of hesitation.

You sat up. “Yeah, sure Wan, what’s up?”

“Pietro will need someone to pick him up later but I’m still feeling pretty shitty at the moment and…I don’t know I was thinking maybe-“

“You’re asking me to pick him up?” you finished her sentence, sighing deeply.

“Kinda, yeah,” Wanda confirmed sheepishly.

You chuckled. “Sure, I can do that Wan, no problem.”

You could hear the relief in Wanda’s breath. “Thank you babes, I owe you! You can take his car, I’ll leave the keys under the pot outside.”

“You don’t owe me anything Wan, I’m glad I can help! You stay in bed and rest, alright? I’ll take care of your brother,” you assured her.

After exchanging a few more words, you hung up and prepared to leave. Opting for a casual outfit you threw on some wash jeans and a shirt.

Considering you spent a good amount of time on spiraling whether to go or not it got rather late already and it still would take you some time to get to Pietros car and to the party.

You grabbed the keys from under the pot, got in the car and started driving. It had been a while since you made use of your license considering you couldn’t afford your own vehicle, but you managed.

As you parked the car and stepped out onto the pavement, the distant throb of bass pulsed through the air, a tangible force that seemed to reverberate through your entire being. With each step towards the fraternity house, the music grew louder, assaulting your senses with its relentless intensity.

You walked up to the guy standing at the door with a ripped sheet of paper in his hand. You assumed that was what Bucky referred to as list.

“Hey, uh, I’m here to pick up Pietro Maximoff,” you stated, hoping to avoid being drawn into the revelry inside.

The guy’s smirk was infuriating as he chuckled dismissively. “Oh I’m sure he’s a little busy right now.”

Suppressing a sigh, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his remark.

“What’s your name sweetie, you could always go in and join the party.”

“Yeah no I’m fine, I’ll just-”

“Wait, are you the infamous Y/n?”

You blinked. You were not entirely used to people knowing your name. You’d like to believe you were nobody. Whether on campus nor in general. So why did this random guy know your name and call you infamous?

You didn’t have to answer, instead the guy nodded towards the door, granting you entry with a casual wave.

“Come on in, Buck will be thrilled to see you,” he remarked, stepping aside to let you pass.

Feeling utterly disoriented and out of place, you stepped inside, your senses assaulted by the overwhelming cacophony of noise and the oppressive heat of the crowded room. The stench of sweat and alcohol hung heavy in the air, causing you to wrinkle your nose in disgust. With each step, the floor seemed to cling to your shoes, a sticky reminder why you avoided this for so long.

You tried to adjust to the flickering lights and internally scolded the person who decided those colors were a good match when you heard your name be called.

“Y/n?”

You weren’t surprised to hear his voice since it was partly his party but you were surprised he recognized you this fast since you just stepped inside. Was he watching the door?

His smile greeted you as he stood before you, and you were blinded for a second there.

“You’re here!”

“Uh, well I’m kinda just here to pick up Pietro. Wanda asked me to.”

Bucky’s smile faltered slightly at your words. Clearing his throat, he offered a tentative response. “Oh. Well, haven’t seen him,” he exclaimed, his gaze momentarily flickering away before returning to meet yours.

As Pietro’s slurred voice called out your name, you turned to see your friend stumbling towards you, a wide grin plastered across his face. He draped an arm around your shoulders, and you instinctively supported him, wrapping your own arm around his waist to steady him.

“What’re you doin’ here, princessa?” Pietro slurred, his words punctuated by a drunken laugh.

You laughed. “Came here to pick you up, Piet. Wanda’s still not feeling well.”

But Pietro, clearly undeterred by your explanation, attempted to pull you along with him, his movements unsteady as he swayed on the spot within your hold.

“Let’s get you a drink, princessa,” he insisted, his grip tightening around you.

Refusing to indulge his request, you gently guided him towards the door, ignoring his protests. As you turned to leave, you caught sight of Bucky, his jaw clenched and his eyes darting away from your close proximity.

“I guess thanks for the invite Barnes but this really isn’t my scene.” You gave him a tight lipped smile and turned to Pietro again.

Meanwhile, Bucky remained rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the door you just disappeared behind.

****

Since that day at the party three weeks ago, Bucky had been somewhat of a ghost, disappearing from the usual campus scene. Despite not seeing him, thoughts of him seemed to linger in the back of your mind and you caught yourself looking out for him in the hallways.

You made your way to the restrooms between your two classes of the day cause you just had to drown yourself in coffee on your 4-hour shift in the café this morning.

After locking yourself in one of the cabins that still held toilet paper you heard the door to the restroom creak open and made out the hushed voices of two girls filtering in. One of them clearly crying.

“What’s wrong with me? He literally jumped in bed with every other girl on campus! Why not me?” the girl sobbed hysterically while her friend got her some paper towels from the dispenser.

You rolled your eyes at her antics and decided to just wait out until they left.

“I don’t know El, but Jake did say something about him wanting to change.” You could picture her gesturing quotation marks with her fingers at the ‘wanting to change’ part. And though you weren’t quite the type to gossip you held your breath and listened intently.

The other girl blew her nose while her friend continued.

“He hasn’t been to a party for the last, I don’t know, maybe three weeks or something. Just stayed locked in his room. That’s what Jake told me. Don’t know what to make out of it though,” the girl chuckled, “I mean it’s Bucky we’re talking about.”

As Bucky’s name entered the conversation, your ears perked up, and you felt compelled to listen. Thoughts swirl in your mind, multiplying like rabbits in a field. Was that night you picked up Pietro the last party he attended? Why the sudden disappearance into seclusion? Why would he lock himself in his room? Why did he dump that girl? You didn’t know who that Jake dude was but you weren’t sure if he was right.

You snapped out of your thoughts to catch the still crying girl whine again. “But I tried really hard Meg! I pinned notes on his locker, I smiled at him all the time, I sent him my notes from history per mail, the one time he didn’t come and I slipped my phone number into his backpack when he wasn’t looking-”

Suddenly you were grateful for standing right beside a toilet cause you felt the urge to vomit.

“-and he just straight up told me he’s not interested?!”

You heard the other girl, Meg, probably short for Meghan or something but why would you care, sigh. “I’m sorry El, but maybe he’s really just trying to become better than that.”

The crying thankfully stopped and was replaced by a scoff and an exasperated intake of breath. Personally, you’d describe it as overly dramatic but who were you to judge.

As the girls finally departed, leaving behind the remnants of their dramatic exchange, you released a sigh of relief.

After finishing what you came in here for in the first place you left the restroom as well and walked through the hallway on your way to your next class.

And as god, or the devil, or Mother Nature, or something the fuck else wouldn’t have it any other way there he was. Bucky was standing at his locker, taking a look at a pink piece of paper in his hand for only a second before crumpling it in his fist. You could only guess what it was.

He turned to the trash can to throw it in there and when he looked back up he met your gaze. His eyes lit up at seeing you, but nevertheless, you noticed the tired look he wore and couldn’t help but feel kinda bad for him.

Normally when passing Bucky in the hallway you wouldn’t spare him an attention spawn over two seconds but here you were giving him a somewhat genuine smile, a rare display of empathy, which he reciprocated immediately.

Even as you turned the corner and continued on your way, you couldn’t shake the sensation of his eyes lingering on you. You couldn’t suppress the warmth spreading in your stomach.

Bucky stopped asking you to come to his parties. As far as you knew he didn’t even attend them himself anymore. You shared with Wanda what you overheard in the restroom, and after confirming with Pietro, it became clear that Bucky was indeed making some significant changes in his lifestyle.

Bucky Barnes was truly an enigma.

Armed with insider information from Wanda, you learned that Bucky refrained from being seen with any girl for weeks and stopped planning and attending the frat parties. He seemingly even talked about leaving the fraternity altogether.

You don’t know what to do with those information but you did notice a shift yourself. You saw Bucky again two times since you passed him in the hallway a few days ago.

You were walking through the library together with Pietro and Wanda when you saw him sitting there in the far corner with his textbook open and a pencil poised. You stood and drank in the sight of him for a moment. His brows were furrowed deep in concentration and he lightly tapped his pen on his notebook rhythmically. He let his hair grow out a little, wisps falling onto his forehead. He sure as hell was a sight for sore eyes.

As if he picked up on your staring he lifted his head and looked over in your direction. The intensity of Bucky’s gaze sent a jolt through you, causing your heart to race as you hastily averted your eyes, feigning interest in the books on the nearby shelf. Despite your attempt to appear nonchalant, you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on you.

Stealing another glance in his direction, finding him still watching you, his soft smile a stark contrast to the cocky grin you were accustomed to. The corners of your mouth lifted ever so slightly without having your consent.

The sudden interruption of Pietro’s arm around your shoulders broke the spell between Bucky and you, snapping him out of his reverie. With a subtle shift in his posture, he straightened his back and lowered his head back to his textbook.

The other time, yesterday, you decided to join Wanda and grab something to eat at the canteen. As you stood in line with Wanda you were the one to feel eyes on you, prompting you to turn and find Bucky’s piercing blue gaze fixed on you.

Your lips curled in a smile and Bucky’s sweet grin in response sent a flutter through your chest.

To your own disappointment, you ended up sitting with your back to him throughout eating, though you pushed it aside.

****

It was a long day.

You had a shift at the café this morning and then went straight to Uni where you dragged yourself through your classes of the day. It was already starting to get dark when you walked around campus to get to your bus station.

This was your routine on Wednesdays but something felt weird. There was a shiver creeping up your spine and you tightened your coat around yourself, hugging your waist, as a response to that feeling of unease.

“Hey! Girl!”

Your heart dropped at the shout and although it came from behind you, you just knew it was meant for you. Unconsciously you picked up your pace, hugging yourself tighter and scolding yourself for not getting pepper spray.

“Hey, you! I’m talking to you!”

You heard quick footsteps approaching you from behind and let out a gasp as rough fingers grabbed onto your wrist, turning you to the man with that gruff voice.

He was tall. His beard, grizzly and grossly outgrown, held a few drops of whatever might be in the bottle he held in his other hand. His clothes were lumpy and held stains, dark eyes pierced through you.

“I’m sure you’re so kind to give a man some money for cigarettes, little girl, huh?”

You stared at the man in front of you, frozen out of fear. Your heart plummeted in your chest and you felt the hand around your wrist tightening. You swallowed thickly but your throat still felt like sandpaper. You wanted to talk but nothing left your mouth.

“Well if I don’t get money you could always pay me differently,” He licked his lips and his eyes roamed over your body. He got hold of your other wrist and you suppressed a whimper.

You wanted to yell at him to let you go. You wanted to kick him where the sun wouldn’t shine. You wanted to scream for anybody to help you. But you couldn’t. You were frozen in place, your voice lost in your throat.

“Hey!”

Another voice.

“Let her go!”

You knew this voice. It was oddly familiar, but you couldn’t comprehend how you knew it.

There was a figure approaching in long, fast strikes and you wanted to go take a look but the man still standing in front of you grabbed you even tighter, which led to another gasp exiting your lips.

You heard your name called and looked in the direction of the newcomer.

Bucky.

It was Bucky.

Relief flooded your body and you finally were able to take a controlled intake of breath again.

“Do you know this guy?” Bucky's concerned gaze bored into you and you shook your head weakly.

That’s all he needed to turn to the guy still having a hold on your wrists. “You let her go right now!” The dangerously low and calm tone of his voice and the way he was talking to you way softer just seconds before let you shiver and caused your head to spin.

The other guy scoffed and let your wrists fall to take a step back, holding his arms up in a surrendering kind of way. Bucky immediately stepped in front of you. “Relax man, did nothing to that girl!”

“You better want to stay the hell away from her or anyone else. I don’t want to see you here again!” Bucky’s voice was laced with a dark, threatening tone, his stance unwavering as he shielded you from the menacing stranger. Despite the age difference, Bucky’s intimidation factor was undeniable.

Said man scoffed and stumbled away a little. Bucky kept watching him till he was out of sight and turned to you in an instant. Not sure if you were okay to be touched, his hands hovered over your arms as he leaned down to catch your eye, his concern evident in every gesture.

“Hey, Y/n, are you okay?”

Your gaze remained fixated on his collarbone, unable to meet his eyes. Absentmindedly, you rubbed the wrist of your right wrist, where the man had gripped you, feeling the tenderness and likely bruises forming there.

“Doll please look at me!” he pleaded, though you remained stoic, your emotions tightly locked away. His worry was palpable, evident in the furrow of his brows and the hesitant hover of his hands, unsure of how to comfort you.

“Eyes up here sweetheart, please!” His voice was softer than you’ve ever heard. Slowly, almost reluctantly, you lifted your head, allowing your gaze to trail up his face until your eyes met his. There was a hint of panic in his expression, his eyes searching yours with such urgency, that it was almost overwhelming. You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion reflected in his blue orbs.

“That’s it doll! Just like that!” He let out a breath of relief but never took his eyes off of you. He signaled to your wrists without breaking eye contact. “Can I take a look?”

You swallowed thickly, your throat tight with emotion, but you gave a slight nod, granting Bucky permission to inspect your wrists. Gently he took your right hand in his left, lifting your sleeve with the other to reveal the red and purple marks beneath. His touch was featherlight as he trailed his fingertips over your sensitive skin, but when you recoiled slightly, he pulled back immediately, murmuring an apology.

With your eyes trained on your wrist, you felt Bucky's finger under your chin to tilt your head up gently, coaxing you to look at him once more. “I’ve got you doll, okay? He’s gone. It’s alright!” he reassured you, a hint of fury underlying his voice as he recalled the man who caused you harm and left you in this state.

Taking a hesitant hold of your hand once again, Bucky brushed his thumb soothingly over the back, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you intently.

Despite your curt nod, you found yourself avoiding his gaze once more.

“I know it’s hard sweetheart but I really need you to say something. Need to make sure you’re okay. Can you do that for me?” Bucky’s voice was filled with gentleness, patience, and genuine concern, causing a lump to form in your throat.

Taking a deep breath, you mustered the strength to look at him again, your eyes glazed from the overwhelming emotions consuming you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but Bucky heard you.

He squeezed your hand lightly and rubbed his other hand along your upper arm. “No need to thank me, sweetheart! I’m glad I was there!”

“Me too,” you found yourself saying, unable to hold back the gratitude flooding your heart. It was a miracle that Bucky showed up at the right moment, and you will forever be grateful for his intervention. The thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t been there sent a shiver down your spine.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and he watched you with such fondness and adoration, your knees grew weak. You even managed to muster a small smile in return.

You took a deep, shuddering breath in, feeling the awkwardness settling in as you realized you had never been that close to Bucky before. Although you felt surprisingly grounded in his presence, you couldn’t shake the discomfort of the situation.

Releasing his hand, you rubbed your forehead, avoiding his gaze as you tried to find the right words. “Uhm...thank you, Bucky, really, but I think I’m just gonna…,” you trailed off, gesturing towards the bus stop in the near distance.

“Woah hold on now doll! I’m not gonna let you go home alone!” Bucky protested, shaking his head.

“It’s fine Barnes really! I’m just gonna call Wanda or Pietro. Surely one of them can come pick me up,” you didn’t really consider calling them but you’d feel bad for inconveniencing Bucky when he would be at his flat in a few minutes himself.

But Bucky was determined.

“No need to call them. I’ll drive you! Sam has a car and we’re just, like, two minutes away,” he pleaded, gaze so intense, almost forcing you to look away.

You sighed, feeling torn. “That’s really nice but I don’t wanna bother you furthermo-”

“Y/n you’re not bothering me! Never! Now please let me do this. Let me take you home,” he interrupted gently but firmly, his grip on your elbow a reassuring presence. You tried to conceal your lingering stress, but nothing could hide it from him.

“I-I can’t ask you to do that,” you murmured, your eyes shifting.

“I’m the one asking sweetheart. Please let me drive you home.” His eyes were hard to discern in the dim light, but the sincerity and concern in his voice were unmistakable.

With a sigh and a final look at the bus stop, you nodded slowly. “Okay,” you whispered.

A smile spread on Bucky's face and he gently turned the hand on your elbow to the small of your back to lead you to the flat house.

As you approached the building, you recognized it from the brief time you spent at the party. However, without the thumping bass, overpowering smell of alcohol, and chaotic atmosphere, the place appeared surprisingly cozy in the dim light

Never once leaving contact with your back he guided you to a room at the end of the hallway. He knocked on the door softly.

“Took your sweet time man-” a guy - Sam, you assumed him to be - standing in the doorframe, stopped talking upon noticing you. A slow smile curled upon his lips. “Can see why.”

“It’s not how it looks like,” Bucky hissed quickly, talking through his teeth. “Can I borrow your car?”

“Sure, man,” confirmed Sam, reaching for a key from a hook beside the door. “Don’t be too late for class tomorrow,” he added with a wink.

A lump formed in your throat as you grappled with your thoughts. It was natural to assume Bucky would have certain expectations given his reputation. After all, he was known for his past behavior of sleeping around. The transformation he seemingly went through couldn’t happen overnight, after all.

You found it hard to believe that Bucky would take advantage of your vulnerability, especially considering how he came to your rescue during the unsettling encounter just moments before. Yet, despite this reassurance, your mind continued to wrestle with uncertainty, plagued by lingering doubts and fears.

Bucky could feel you tense beside him and shot daggers at Sam even when said guy already disappeared behind the door.

As he walked you to Sam’s car, Bucky held the door open for you, guiding you inside with gentle reassurance. Determined not to leave you alone for too long, he rushed around the front of the car to take the driver’s seat.

During the drive, silence filled the car as you tried to calm your breathing, focusing on the passing scenery outside the window. Your efforts to quell your anxiety were hardly manageable, due to the bouncing of your leg and your trembling hands, fiddling with the fabric of your jacket.

Bucky discreetly stole glances at you as he drove, noticing your nervousness.

15 minutes of driving later, Bucky came to a halt in front of your apartment complex. You unbuckled yourself and before you realized what was going on Bucky opened the door at your side. You didn’t even notice him getting out of the car.

Feeling weak in your knees you got out of the car. Bucky walked you to your door, hands held by his side in case you needed him and his presence offered you a sense of comfort. As you came to a halt in front of your door, you turned your body to him, trying to muster up a smile. You attempted to convey your gratitude although that unease still lingered in your bones.

“Thank you, Barnes! For everything!”

“No need to thank me, Y/n. I’m glad I could help. Will you be okay though?” His concern was genuine, struggling to leave your side.

He looked so hesitant to leave you, it would have been adorable in other circumstances. You felt guilty for entertaining the thought he would take advantage of your situation. You even believed he would be relieved if you asked him to stay with you. You had to admit, the comfort his presence gave you was easing your anxiety, though you couldn’t ask him to stay.

You conjured up a smile. “I’ll be fine,” you assured him, unlocking your door. Bucky stayed rooted on the spot, returning an unsure smile, looking torn. “I’m gonna be okay, really! Get home safe, Barnes.”

Bucky cleared his throat, evading his eyes for a moment and taking a reluctant step backward, but he remained turned to you. After exchanging a quick goodbye you disappeared behind your door.

Bucky watched you climb the stairs through the small window in the door, his gaze unwavering even as the hallway inside turned dark again. He remained rooted outside, his thoughts consumed by concern for your well-being.

Bucky couldn’t shake the desire to talk to you again, especially since that night at the party. He tried so hard to muster up the courage, never having a problem in that department before, but he was a nervous wreck. Now, in an unexpected turn of events he did get to talk to you again, however, he despised how it had unfolded. Seeing you struggle to hold back tears, desperately trying not to break down in front of him, pained him deeply. It hurt to witness your shock, pleading with you to snap out of your state.

The thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t returned, if he hadn’t forgotten his notebook, made him feel sick to his stomach. The mere idea of leaving you to face that situation alone was unbearable to him. Now leaving you alone so shaken felt inherently wrong in any sense, but he acknowledged he didn’t know you well enough to override your request that you would be fine. His instincts urged him to stay but he had to respect your words and your space.

Bucky seethed at the thought of Sam insinuating that he would use you in such a way. Sure, Sam didn’t know what happened to you and it wasn’t his fault Bucky had a reputation like that, but somehow it made him angry. You meant more to him than that. The mere suggestion of exploiting you for his own gain left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he silently vowed to prove Sam wrong by showing you the genuine depth of his feelings and intentions.

Girls constantly approached Bucky, attempting to touch him in the hallways or slipping their phone numbers into his locker, backpack, or books. Just the other day, a particularly bold girl even tried to write her number on his hand. Although she didn’t succeed, Bucky found himself standing in front of the sink for a while, scrubbing at his hand to erase any trace of her advances.

Bucky knew that he was viewed as nothing more than a means for physical pleasure. And he was okay with that, for an embarrassingly long time. The idea of being in a committed relationship and facing the responsibilities that came with it used to repulse him. His desires were simple - a brief encounter with no strings attached, followed by a swift departure, leaving no room for emotional entanglements. At a certain time, one smirk of a pretty girl was enough to jump into bed with her.

You were pretty too. Beautiful even. He acknowledged that day one. But never did he consider reducing you to a mere physical encounter. He noticed you in the hallways and felt intrigued, contemplating flirting with you just like he did with all the other girls. However, there was something different about you. He felt nervous around you, realizing that he cared about your opinion of him more than he cared to admit. He was strangely exhilarated at finding out you would share a class in second semester, trying to find a way to build some kind of connection with you.

That night, as you expressed your disinterest in frat parties, he felt the pull you had on him, without even knowing you well. The alcohol at the party suddenly tasted sour, the air felt stifling, the crowd too dense, the music too deafening, and the girls vying for his attention became an unwelcome intrusion. Their advances left him feeling an overwhelming sense of distress.

He found himself longing to leave his old reputation behind. He wanted something meaningful, something real, and the only person he could imagine it being with was you.

But right now?

Bucky’s heart sank as he got back to Sam’s car, feeling the strong urge to stay with you and ensure your safety. Sitting in front of the steering wheel and staring at your building, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should be by your side.

You got stuck in your head after examining your bruised wrists and trying to cool down the swelling with an ice pack. Before your panic attack rendered you useless to do anything you managed to call Wanda and she talked you through it. You stayed on the phone with her until you fell asleep.

****

As you woke up, a familiar sense of unease settled over you, accompanied by trembling hands and a racing heart. The thought of facing another day filled with potential triggers made you hesitate. You did want to attend class, unfortunately though the looming threat of another panic attack weighed heavily on your mind. With a sigh, you made the decision to prioritize your well-being and called in sick, sending a text to Wanda to let her know.

As said girl joined you later, bearing notes and takeout, you found solace in her company on your small couch, eating and talking.

“So uhm,” Wanda began, seemingly nonchalant, but you knew her better than that, ears perking up. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you but after Science class, I met Bucky waiting outside the hall. He was looking for you.”

Your chewing slowed as you processed her words, eyebrows knitting together, looking at her.

“He came up to me, to ask where you were and if you were okay.”

You swallowed, a wave of panic surged within you. “You didn’t tell him-”

“No! No, of course not,” she interjected you hastily, words tumbling over each other in her haste to reassure you. “I just told him you weren’t feeling well and called in sick but I don’t think he really bought that.” Her smile was sympathetic.

Your appetite forgotten you let your fork clatter into the plastic container, your forehead finding its way to the backside of the couch with a groan of frustration.

Wanda’s light chuckle broke through your troubled thoughts. “He also asked me for your number,” she revealed, her tone surprisingly casual given the weight of her words.

“What?” Your head snapped up, eyes widening in disbelief.

“Didn’t give it to him, don’t worry, though I kinda felt bad for the guy. He looked miserable.” Her voice tinged with sympathy.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Gratitude mingled with apprehension as you recalled Bucky’s unexpected kindness during yesterday’s ordeal. You remembered how his proximity seemed to ground you, warmth spreading through your body at the comfort he provided. You could still feel the lingering sensation of his hand on your back, even a day later. And yet, the intensity of those feelings scared you, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed walls you had built around your heart.

“Hey,” Wanda called out softly, her words carrying a gentle insistence. “He genuinely seemed worried. And I’m not trying to get you to befriend him or whatever but…he really is a nice guy, Y/n.”

Your gaze was fixed on Wanda, contemplation furrowing your brow.

“Listen, I don’t know what your problem is with Bucky, but-” she gave you a careful glance, “-if I’m being honest, I don’t think you know it either sweetie.”

Wanda’s words resonated with a truth you had been reluctant to acknowledge. Bucky’s genuine concern had managed to pierce through the barriers you had erected, leaving you grappling with conflicting emotions. Why did you hold onto this grudge so tightly? Was it merely a shield against vulnerability?

As you reflected on Bucky’s actions, a sense of clarity washed over you. There was truly no valid reason to hold onto the grudge you had harbored against him. He truly had consistently shown kindness and concern towards you.

Recalling the instances where he had gone out of his way to make you comfortable, a wave of gratitude washed over you. From saving you a seat in class to rescuing you from a precarious situation with a homeless man to checking in on your well-being through Wanda, Bucky had proven himself to be a decent and caring person.

With a newfound perspective, you realized that perhaps it was time to give him a chance.

****

The bus was late, as usual. Today, though, you couldn’t summon the energy to care. Your mind was still swirling with thoughts, and fatigue weighed heavily on you.

Wanda saved you a seat in class, checking in on you again and although you felt way better than yesterday, you couldn’t concentrate. The voice of your professor was merely a blurred murmur in the back of your mind.

With some time to kill before your next class, you and Wanda decided to grab a coffee. However, you barely made it out of your lecture hall before hearing your name called.

Heaving a sigh, you turned around and came face to face with an approaching Bucky.

He came to a halt, looking a little sheepish now that he was standing in front of you. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, and his hair a little disheveled, he cleared his throat, seemingly unsure of where to begin.

“I’ll head out already, Y/n. Take your time.” Wanda spoke up, giving you a quick hug before passing by Bucky and throwing you a wink over her shoulder.

Bucky cleared his throat again, shuffling on his feet a little before meeting your eyes. “So, uhm, are you okay?”

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, touched by his concern. “I’m fine,” you assured him, fidgeting with your fingers. “Thank you, again!” You added quietly.

He waved away your gratitude with a casual gesture. “No need to thank me doll. I’m glad I could help.”

He smiled softly, biting his lip, though there was a hint of something more in his expression. Sensing he still had something on his mind, trying to figure out how to say it, you remained silent.

“Listen, uh...,” he began, clenching his jaw and avoiding eye contact. “I wanted to apologize for…well for being pushy about the parties and all. Shouldn’t have bothered you like that.”

You blinked, taken aback by his unexpected apology. “Oh, uhm…it’s okay Barnes, really.”

He shook his head, letting out a breath. “Nah, it’s not. This isn’t your scene, should have respected that.” He opened his mouth again but closed it right after, swallowing.

“Don’t worry about it Barnes, it’s alright, seriously.” A tinge of disappointment lingered within you. The realization hit you, that without his invitations to parties, he might not seek you out as often. He only ever did, when asking you to come to his parties. So it would mean he might not annoyingly interrupt you in class, or approach you on campus anymore. You scolded yourself for feeling that way but you somehow didn’t want to lose that.

Needing to take hold of your thoughts, you wanted to get away from here. Your lips curled in a smile. “Alright, uhm, Wanda’s probably waiting for me so-” You were about to turn away but Bucky called your name again.

“Hey, uh-” he seemed nervous, his voice wavering slightly and he cleared his throat, a hand coming up to run through his hair. “You could always come to me - I mean, the frat - when you’re here late. I can always drive you again. Make sure you get home safe.”

He felt bad for bringing up the topic again, but he wanted you to know that he genuinely cared and would feel better if you reached out to him. He would gladly drive you home again, hoping you’d consider taking him up on his offer.

Surprised once more, you blinked at him, processing his offer. You mustered up a smile. “That’s nice, really Barnes, but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Alright, well, just know that I’ll be there if you change your mind,” Bucky replied, his tone sincere, expression soft.

You smiled again, nodded, and bid him goodbye.

Reflecting on the interaction, you couldn’t help but agree with Wanda. Bucky Barnes was a decent guy, held back by his reputation.

****

Sunlight streamed through the windows of the library, casting warm beams that danced upon the wooden tables and bookshelves. It was a stark contrast to the earlier rain, which had cloaked the world outside in a shroud of grey.

The faint whispers of fellow students, the gentle rustle of pages, and the occasional creak of wooden chairs created a soothing ambiance while you browsed through your textbook.

A groan from beside you, however, interrupted that. You lifted your head, diverting your attention to your friend sitting beside you.

“Why is all the information so scattered? Can’t find shit for this stupid paper.” Wanda exclaimed, her brow furrowed in frustration as she stared at her laptop screen.

As you chuckled and leaned in to help Wanda navigate through the vast sea of information on the internet, a sudden gust of wind sent a shiver down your spine, causing you to instinctively turn your head towards the entrance of the library. In walked Bucky, accompanied by the familiar figure of Sam. You quickly averted your gaze, not wanting to be caught staring.

In the two weeks since your conversation, there had been a palpable change in the air whenever Bucky and you crossed paths. And that was a lot. You haven’t necessarily exchanged words but you grew more enthusiastic when seeing him, sending a smile his way, which he reciprocated immediately.

You were sitting in a café last week, nursing a latte, while having light conversation with Wanda and Pietro, as you recognized Bucky standing at the counter. Without thinking you lifted your hand and waved at him when he looked in your direction. His face lit up, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he smiled and eagerly waved back. He seemed to contemplate walking over to you, your hopes rising for a second, but his name called by the barista snapped his head away from you. After getting his coffee he sent another smile your way but left the café. Wanda and Pietro wasted no time in teasing you mercilessly after he was out of sight. The blush on your cheeks evidence of your embarrassment.

“God, this is getting ridiculous,” Wanda scoffed, amusement lacing her features. You turned to her, a hint of confusion littering your features, oblivious to what she was referring to. She nodded subtly to the side, her attention still fixed on her laptop screen. Following her nod, you spotted Bucky and Sam standing in the near distance, both seemingly focused in your direction.

Sam's face lit up with a mischievous grin and he started walking toward you girls, clapping Bucky on the back. Bucky looked visibly distressed, running a hand through his hair, before following behind.

Sam took a seat in front of Wanda and you, his toothy smile lighting up his face. “Ladies,” he acknowledged playfully.

Wanda laughed, continuing to type on her laptop. “What do you want Wilson?” she asked teasingly.

Sam leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. “Just wanted to say hi,” he replied casually, shrugging his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Bucky took a seat next to Sam, looking a little awkward. He shuffled a little, leaning his elbows onto the table.

“Well hi, then,” Wanda said, finally looking up.

As Sam and Wanda dove into a discussion about their research papers, exchanging ideas and sharing insights, Bucky and you found yourselves stealing glances at each other.

There was a warmth in Bucky’s eyes, a softness you still were trying to get accustomed to. You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest, you didn’t even try to suppress.

Bucky cleared his throat, looking solely at you. “What’s your paper about?” he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with curiosity.

You smiled, grateful for the new opportunity to engage him in conversation. “I’m researching the impact of technology on interpersonal relationships,” you replied, the initial awkwardness fading away.

Bucky nodded, his interest piqued. With that you delved into a light conversation, discussing your topic in more detail, diving into the various aspects you were exploring and the questions you hoped to answer. Bucky’s gaze never wavered, his attention fully captivated by your words. You noticed that whenever you tried to turn the conversation back to him, Bucky seemed more interested in talking about you.

As the conversation between Bucky and you flowed effortlessly, you found yourselves delving into deeper topics. Bucky’s genuine curiosity about you as a person was evident, and you felt a surge of warmth spreading throughout your body at his interest in getting to know you better. He asked about your hobbies, your favorite books, your dreams for the future - anything and everything he could think of to get to know you better. A spark elicited in Bucky’s eyes at some point, as if he found something in your words that resonated with him on a deeper level.

It felt like you talked to Bucky for hours though it couldn’t have been more than half an hour. The presence of Wanda and Sam had long faded into the background, as Bucky and you connected. To your disappointment, Sam and Bucky had another class and bid you girls goodbye, wishing you good luck with your papers furthermore.

Wanda held her mouth after they left but the knowing smirk in her glance spoke volumes.

****

Weeks passed in a blissful blur. Your encounters with Bucky on campus evolved into something more than just brief exchanges. Conversations became the norm, each one stretching longer than the last, until you found yourself losing track of time altogether, arriving late to class oftentimes. Whenever your schedules allowed it, Wanda and you would meet up with Bucky and Sam to grab some coffee.

The soft smiles filled with adoration that Bucky sent your way didn’t go unnoticed, even when he thought you weren’t looking. You also noticed the little gestures, the quick hugs, he never seemed to pull away from fist, the hover of his hand over your back when walking around campus with you. He pulled you closer to his side a few days ago, his hand gently gripping the sleeve of your jacket as you navigated through the crowded hallway. Your heart skipped a beat at that.

And then there were moments when he seemed on the verge of saying something before parting ways, his lips parting as if he wanted to speak his mind, but then thinking better of it and closing his mouth with a clear of his throat and a hand running through his brown locks. His former cockiness seemed to have given way to a newfound shyness. He was holding back, afraid to cross some invisible line but you didn’t know how to approach him on that.

You also didn’t know if you eventually could cross a line at this moment. Darkness enveloped the campus, casting eerie shadows that danced in the dim light of the flickering lampposts. Wanda and Pietro were out of town and you decided to stay a little longer and finish up your notes. A bad move on your part.

The once bustling grounds now lay deserted, devoid of the usual throngs of students. A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach, gnawing at you with every step. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind or the distant hum of a passing car. Every shadow seemed to hold a hidden threat, every rustle of the wind a whisper of danger.

You were thinking about the offer Bucky had made you a few weeks ago to go by his flat and let him drive you home again. You considered going to him but although he had made you that offer you didn’t want to inconvenience him. And just walking to his flat and asking him to drive you home? It seemed weird. But as your anxiety intensified and your hands started to tremble, you found yourself walking towards his flat on autopilot. The memory of your previous panic attack loomed large in your mind, threatening to engulf you once again.

There was a guy standing in the doorway with a cigarette in hand. You were approaching cautiously, not sure if this was a good idea.

“Hey, you lost?”

The sound of the stranger’s voice jolted you out of your anxious reverie, pulling you back to the present, momentarily breaking the spell of fear that had gripped you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you responded. “Uhm, actually I wanted...to Bucky.” Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the uncertainty that still lingered within you.

The stranger raised an eyebrow, eyeing you curiously as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Huh,” he muttered, looking you up and down. “Guy hasn’t had a girl over in weeks.”

You cleared your throat, too caught up in your own anxious thoughts to care about the stranger’s assumptions.

“Well, is he here?”

He nodded, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “Up the stairs, last door to the left,” he replied, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the staircase.

With a weak “thank you” you stepped past him and walked up the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest.

You stood in front of his door, staring at it long enough to notice the cracks in the woods, marring it’s surface, splinters standing out. Your lip was held in a death grip, teeth biting down on it. With a hesitant breath, you finally mustered up the courage to give the door a soft knock, the sound echoing faintly in the empty hallway. As you withdrew your hand you hid the shakiness in the folds of your sleeves.

There was a groan on the other side of the door, as response to your knock. A lump burned in your throat and you played with the thought to just bold out of that house again when you heard the doorknob turning.

“Sam, come on man-” Bucky stopped talking abruptly upon seeing you. His eyes grew wide, eyebrows shooting up, surprise clear as day upon his face.

“Y/n? I-Wow, uh, I didn’t expect you here,” Bucky stammered, shuffling on his feet with his hand running through his disheveled hair in a futile attempt to compose himself. If your mind wouldn’t have been occupied with other things right now you would have found him adorable with his crinkled shirt loosely hugging his frame and hanging over some dark sweatpants, his unruly hair and flushed cheeks. But all you could do was swallow that burning sensation in your throat.

“Uhm,” you choked out, looking at you feet. “I-I’m sorry for bothering you, I just…I didn’t-”

“Hey, hey, doll, it’s alright,” he met you in the hallway, a hand coming up to your upper arm in a sense of urgency. He hooked his finger under your chin to lift your head. You met his eyes, your heart leaving your chest altogether. His face was twisted in worry, brows furrowed deeply, eyes so focused on you, the intensity of it washed over you like a wave. Your breaths still came in too elated, heart beating erratically. “Take some deep breaths for me sweetheart, follow my lead, come on.” He urged you softly.

With Bucky’s guidance, you focused on your breathing, drawing in slow, steady inhalations and exhaling the tension that had taken hold of your body. His thumb continued to trace soothing circles on his skin. As you followed Bucky’s lead, the erratic beat of your heart gradually slowed to a more steady rhythm.

“Atta girl, that’s it!” he whispered, rubbing his other hand up and down your arm. He nodded at you to keep breathing, eyes so intense it was the only thing you could focus on.

Standing directly in front of you and focusing on your eyes, he let your chin up to gently grab your other arm. “You wanna tell me what happened?” His low and gentle tone soothing you.

You took a deep breath, feeling ridiculous out of a sudden to stand here and burden him. “I-My bus didn’t come and-and I don’t know, I got scared I guess and…God I’m sorry Bucky I shouldn’t have come I-”

“Hold on a sec doll,” he interjected, brows pulled together further, concern dripping from his words. “You stayed on campus until now?” A confirming but weak nod of you let Bucky heave a breath. “There’s no need to apologize, sweetheart, I told you you could come, didn’t I? And god help me, I’m glad you did.”

He looked pained to some extent, but mustered up a warm smile. You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes still shifting with uncertainty and your hands were still secured in your sleeves, the nagging thought that you were burdening him still lingering at the back of your mind. Your tense posture didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky and he pulled you in his embrace, engulfing you in a warm hug. He never hugged you like that before but with the way his arms around you tightened and he leaned his head against yours, he supposedly wanted to.

As Bucky held you close, his warm breath tickling your ear and sending shivers down your spine, he whispered words of comfort and reassurance that washed over you like a gentle breeze. You couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, all you could do was melt into his embrace and let the soothing cadence of his voice and the tenderness in his touch ease the knots of anxiety that had gripped your chest.

Bucky withdrew slightly to look at you again, his gaze filled with affection and tenderness. “You want me to drive you home, doll?” he whispered, maintaining the close proximity you two harbored.

As you pondered his question, conflicted emotions swirled within you. Initially, you had sought Bucky out precisely for this reason - to ask for a ride home. But now, something had shifted. The idea of being dropped off alone at home felt less appealing. Wanda and Pietro were likely unavailable, and you hesitated to inconvenience anyone else. Yet, the thought of being alone right now was equally unsettling.

Sensing your hesitation, Bucky gently lifted your head again with his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. There was a soft smile you came face to face with. “Sam’s not here for tonight…Do you wanna stay? It’s just us.”

The offer was tempting, but you couldn’t shake the worry of being a bother. “That’s nice Bucky, but I-I don’t want to intrude,” you murmured, matching his quiet tone.

“You’d never intrude, sweetheart! Don’t ever worry about that, alright?” His hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you into his room.

You settled on his bed as he led you there and couldn’t help but steal a glance around the room. It was surprisingly tidy, save for a small pile of clothes scattered on the floor. Overall, the atmosphere felt organized and put together. Your eyes drifted to his desk - again, neatly arranged - where a framed picture caught your attention. In it was a clearly younger Bucky, with chubby cheeks and a toothy grin. Standing behind him was a man who bore a striking resemblance to him, his father you guessed. A woman was beside him, dark hair in a bun atop her head and a radiant smile, presumably his mother. Cradled in the woman’s arms was a little girl, short brunette hair a little disheveled, and with a pacifier in her mouth but a joyful grin on her face.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you took in the sight of his family. While Bucky had mentioned having a sister during your conversation in the library a few weeks ago, he had never shown you pictures before.

Bucky entered your field of vision, settling down beside you with a glass of water in hand. He held it out to you and you thanked him gratefully, taking a sip.

You felt Bucky shifting beside you, wiping his hands on his sweatpants, betraying his nervousness. “Do you-” His voice was raspy and he cleared his throat, starting again, “Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Can I get you something?”

You huffed out a laugh, throwing him a grateful smile. “I’m good, Bucky, thank you!”

A hesitant hand came to rest on your knee. “You let me know if there’s something, alright?”

“Will do, Buck!”

He gave you a look. “I mean it, doll!”

You chuckled, being surprised by how easily Bucky managed to ground you, getting you out of your nervous spiraling. “I know, Barnes.”

Bucky watched you, own lips curled in a soft smile. You returned his gaze, warmth spreading through you at the sparkle in his eyes. His hand remained secure on your knee, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your jeans, a gesture that made you yearn for his touch on your skin instead. The amount of adoration twinkling in his gaze made you weak. Seconds ticked by and you still were looking at each other. There was something in his blue speckles that couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere else. A magnetic pull you were drawn to, holding you captive. You noticed his blues flicker down to your lips for a brief moment, and in response, your own eyes permitted themselves to wander to his. The movement of his thumb stilled on your leg, his hand laying flat and you could feel him leaning in.

Bucky often found himself lost in thoughts about kissing you. When the urge washed over him he imagined leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. But he had always held back, hesitant to take that final step without knowing if you wanted it too.

One time, when you two were walking together through campus, the wind was relentless, whipping your hair around your face as you tried in vain to tame it. Despite your efforts though, the wind was hard to go against and after the fifth failed attempt at trying to tame your hair, you started laughing, Bucky joining in. As he watched you, your hair obscuring your view, he couldn’t help the warmth swelling in his heart, the fondness that made his smile ache in his cheeks at the sight of your laughter. He found himself wishing to pull you close, to gently brush the strands of hair away from your face, and to kiss you with all the pent-up longing he felt. In that moment, all he wanted was to express the depth of his feelings for you in a kiss that would leave you breathless.

He often daydreamed about kissing you in the library. Surrounded by the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows, you sat immersed in your studies, your face illuminated by the gentle light. You looked so beautiful, all he could do was admire you. If only you had lifted your head from your notebook, you would have seen the adoring smile that graced his lips. He longed to express his affection for you in the form of a tender kiss, holding you close and sharing a moment of intimacy amidst the quiet serenity of the library. But he couldn’t do that, so he took the chance and admired you from afar.

But the one time he almost really did it was the time you called him ‘Bucky’ for the first time.

You sit in your usual café, nursing a large cup of coffee, the rich aroma wafting up to greet you with each sip. Bucky is seated in front of you, idly fiddling with the sugar packages stored in a box on the table. Your notebook lies open in front of you, pages filled with scribbled notes from your recent class.

After class, Bucky had caught up with you, asking what you were up to. You had mentioned grabbing a coffee and finishing up some notes, and he had decided to tag along. However, as you now sit together in the cozy café, it seems Bucky isn’t entirely pleased with the lack of attention you’re giving him, his relentlessness evident as he fidgets with the sugar packets in front of him.

He grumpily rearranges the sugar packages for the fourth time, his irritation palpable as you remain engrossed in your writing. You hear the crinkle of a sugar packet being opened.

“I don’t need any more sugar in my coffee, Barnes,” you warn him teasingly, without lifting your head from your notebook.

“Everyone needs a little sweetness in their life, doll!” he retorts with a knowing grin, tossing you a wink as you glance back at him. With a mischievous smirk, he lets the sugar cascade into your cup.

“Whatever you say,” you reply with a laugh in your breath, shaking your head in amusement before returning your focus to your notes.

You hear him open another package and let out a sigh. “You better not do that,” you warn again, eyes not lifting.

Another rip of a sugar packet catches your attention, and you perk up to see Bucky holding both open packages over your cup, letting the sugar pour in.

“Bucky!” you exclaim, the volume of your voice drawing glances from other café patrons, but you’re too focused on the playful banter to acknowledge them. “God, I can’t believe you did that,” you groan, pulling your cup closer to your side, in mock exasperation.

As your gaze locks with his, you’re prepared to scold him further but the look on his face catches you off guard. His eyes are wide, mouth agape, morphing into a beaming smile, white teeth on display.

Your eyebrows shoot up in confusion. “What?”

“Thought I’d never get to hear you say it, doll,” Bucky laughs out, eyes sparking.

“What did I say?” you ask, puzzled by his reaction.

He leans forward, elbows resting on the table while his eyes remain fixed on you. That beaming smile is still plastered on his face, and his blue orbs seem to glow with amusement, sparking brighter than usual.

“You called me Bucky,” he points out, his voice tings with delight.

You took a deep breath in, regretting your slip-up. “Shit, I guess I did.”

Bucky now crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the back of his seat. He doesn’t seem able to stop the smile on his face. “If all it took was to annoy you then Imma keep doing that from now on,” he declared with a playful glint in his eyes.

Head in your hands you let out a groan. Bucky barks out a laugh in front of you and you reluctantly lift your head to look at him. You point a finger at him. “I’ll keep calling you Bucky, if you stop being annoying!” you propose, trying to stay serious but not being able to stop the corners of your mouth from lifting.

“Can’t say no to that,” Bucky conceded, smile growing fond, affection radiating from him in waves.

He never stopped annoying you but you kept calling him Bucky.

But now, as he sat in front of you, his hand resting on your leg, Bucky felt the familiar urge resurface. You were in his room, smiling at him, looking so beautiful, it took his breath away. Yet, despite the overwhelming desire, he knew he would never take that final step without your explicit consent, considering the circumstances you were here right now. Your state earlier left him uneasy and a nagging guilt was gnawing within him, thinking about that night he had driven you home and then left you alone that shaken. So he needed you to want this, to be sure you were okay. He felt sick at the thought of taking advantage of you in any way.

Thus, he did lean in but didn’t go further than a few inches, giving you the opportunity to make the next move or the space to show him you weren’t ready for that.

Your eyes darted to his lips once more, leaning in yourself. Your foreheads touched after some moments, noses brushing and you saw Bucky’s eyes flutter close, still not moving further. You took a few seconds before closing the gap and pressing your lips to his. Bucky let out a breath through his nose, slowly moving his lips in sync with yours. Again, he let you lead the kiss. His other hand made his way up to your face, the gentle touch of his fingertips brushing over your skin before tenderly cradling your cheek.

Eventually, you pulled away, opening your eyes but staying close to his face. Your hazy smile mirrored his, and he pulled your head back slowly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before looking back at you, fondness clear on his features. “Are you okay?” he whispered, his fingers still caressing your cheek as his intense eyes locked on yours.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you held his gaze. “Yeah.”

After a few tender moments of loving touches and whispered assurances, Bucky handed you a change of clothes and let you use the bathroom.

Emerging from the bathroom, you were now dressed in a pair of his black shorts and a shirt, the fabric enveloping you in Bucky’s comforting scent. It made your stomach do flips, feeling at ease. A soft smile graced your lips as you took in the familiar aroma.

“I got another blanket, in case you got cold…,” he trailed off as he caught sight of you. His eyes swept up and down your figure, admiring how his clothes draped over your form. Though you couldn’t quite read his expression, the slight blush coloring his cheeks was enough to make you smile sheepishly in response. Bucky cleared his throat - he did that a lot around you - and turned away a little, composing himself.

There wasn’t much space in his bed you recognized as you settled in, but somehow you didn’t mind that much. Bucky sat down on the bed, looking troubled.

“Buck? Something wrong?”

Bucky took a breath, shaking his head slightly. “No,” he breathed out, an inner turmoil in his eyes, “I just…I can sleep in Sams’ bed. Maybe tha-”

“Hey,” you interrupted him softly, “I don’t mind Bucky, really! We can share.” He didn’t look convinced so you sat up straighter and heaved a breath, trying again. “And it would make me feel better,” you admitted quietly.

That did him in, breathing out a sigh and settling in beside you. Though he relented, he still was tense beside you, his muscles stiff. His shoulders were touching yours, so he felt you starting to shiver a little. His head snapped to you in an instant.

“Are you cold? Let me get another blan-” Bucky began, already halfway off the bed before you interrupted him once more.

“Hold on! I…uhm,” you hesitated, searching for the right words to express your request, “Could you maybe…cuddle me?” You fiddled with your fingers, a little nervous about how he would react.

To your relief, you heard him shuffle towards you, and soon you felt his arm wrapping around you. You smiled and turned, positioning your back against his chest. His other arm moved hesitantly under your pillow, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. With Bucky’s presence surrounding you, you felt a sense of security wash over you, easing any lingering nerves.

“Like that?” he breathed in your hair, a whisper so full of emotion.

“Yeah,” you breathed back, a sense of gratitude washing over you, “Thank you!” It wasn’t just a thank you for holding you in that moment; it was a thank you for everything he had done for you. It was a thank you for pulling you out of your anxiety - for saving you from a panic attack you surely would have endured if it wasn’t for him. It was a thank you for him offering his comfort and support in so many ways. And it was a thank you for inviting you to his many parties because although you never really went, it was the foundation of your current relationship.

And he knew. He knew the depth of your gratitude, the depth of your feelings. Because he had learned to read and understand you. Because he had learned to love you. And he would tell you when he thought you were ready to hear it. For now, all he could do was hold you close, squeeze you just a little tighter, and silently convey his unwavering support and profound affection.

“Love comes to you just at the right time; the time you never thought it would have”

- Anurag Prakash Ray

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hiii☺It's my first time asking for a fic!I LOVE your fics so much so i thought i would ask you. I really hope you'll like the idea🤞It's a bit long tho.(smut fic🙊)

Larissa and Reader are best friends, they know everything about each other, they flirt and challenge each other, talk about sex and everything but never had sex. They're close.

Larissa invites R to spend the evening with her in her quarter, have a drink and watch a movie (that they'll never pay attantion to as usual).They talk, laugh and get a bit tipsy and R ask Larissa why she choosed not to have tattoos or piercing and then at some point, Larissa ask "how many piercing do you have? You never told me." So R gets up and show her the one on her nose, her lip, cheeks, a sternum piercing , maybe 3-4 each ear and maybe a lower back dimple piercings (those are ideas, you can add or change the piercing's places) and then she could sit back down and say "and i have my nipples pierced and a Christina's piercing. Would you like too see them too?" (half) joking because she thought Larissa would never say yes (not that she really minded showing her, she trusts her enough) but Larissa sensed the challenge there and decided to take R offguard and say yes, thinking that reader were going to back down, but then R gets up again and Larissa realised that she was REALLY going to show her and her eyes went wide at the idea but she didn't back down.....and then smut smut smut😅

You can add any kinks, toys or both,i'm fine with that!You can also add things about the beginning of the story if you think about something!I hope you want to write it and if not,it's ok too!Thank you xxxx

-Anon🌠⭐-

The Way You Adore Me (Like No Other) ~Larissa Weems xFem BestFriend!Reader

Summary— Larissa and Reader are best friends. They have been for as long as they can remember, the kind of friends who do all together and talk about it all. But what happens when you have a little too much to drink, and you find out that Larissa has a thing for your tattoos and piercings…?

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Anon response— Hi hi anon!! Thank you for your kind words, I greatly appreciate them 🥰 and I love your request! I hope I did your idea justice. Thank you for the request, and welcome to my anons!! (if you’d do me a favor and clarify what emoji you’d like, I’d appreciate that, thank you!) Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smutty smut, drinking, little angst, little fluff, oral sex (both f receiving), fingering, face sitting, body adoration, tattoos and piercings adoration, teasing, light begging, implied overstimulation, confession of feelings, etc.

Enjoy (;

You sighed in relief as you enter Larissa’s private quarters. Being with your best friend always made everything better. You two just clicked perfectly.

Literally. You were such a good match. You talked about all kinds of shit. You have fun toying with one another, neither of you being one to back down from a challenge. Nothing was off the table when it came to you two.

You dropped your bags by the door, closing it behind you.

“Hey ‘Ris!!”

You called out your close friends name to indicate to her that you had arrived. Larissa had invited you to a sleepover this particular Friday night. She had mentioned something about a terribly stressful week, and being the good friend you were, you immediately took up the opportunity to care for and be with your friend.

“Oh Darling, Hello, Come in!” Larissa exclaimed, coming into the main entrance which connected to her living room, and greeting you.

The tall woman came up to you, giving you side kisses on each of your cheeks and then pulling you into a friendly hug. You sighed into Larissa’s embrace. Her hugs always made you lose all worry in your life.

You then properly came into her quarters, and the two of you ended up sitting comfortably on her couch. Larissa had brought a bottle of red wine and some glasses for you two to share. And like most sleepovers, the two of you planned to put on a movie. Although you both knew you wouldn’t pay much attention to it…

Tonight, you both decided on Three Thousand Years of Longing, a movie with Idris Elba and Tilda Swinton apparently about genies. Neither of you had a particular interest in genie movies, so it was a perfect pick to play in the background and just forget about.

As the movie began, Larissa popped the cork of the wine bottle and poured two glasses out for the two of you. She handed you your glass and you thanked the blonde. You then sat in each others company and just talked.

Larissa spilled all the details about her stress at work, and you as well. You talked and talked, the only thing visibly affecting the atmosphere was the every now and then sex scenes that came up from the movie. It caused a good deal of blushes, breath hitches, and clearing throats…

A couple of hours later the movie was almost over. And you had to confess that your knickers were damp from all the sex sounds that had been coming from the television… You didn’t know, but Larissa had admitted a similar thing to herself.

Your conversations could go in any and all directions. Especially when you were both tipsy. And that you were. By now, your conversation had shifted to talk about tattoos and piercings.

“I know you’ve probably told me this, but why don’t you have any tattoos again?” You tipsily asked.

Larissa took a moment to muse and think about her answer.

“Well, If I ever do get a tattoo, I think it’s important that it matters to me and will matter for the rest of my life… And I have never found something that fits that requirement.”

You hummed and nodded your head in response, going for another swig of wine quickly afterward.

“How many piercings do you now have?” The blonde asked curiously, her eyes lightly roaming up and down your frame.

You pursed your lips and smiled.

“Well… the nose ring, bottom lip, dimples, sternum, nipples, and a Christina piercing.”

You explained each piercing, indicating where each one was as you said it. Larissa���s eyes widened and darkened after every piercing location was revealed to her.

“And tattoos…?” She said, almost sounding breathless.

Larissa had put her wine done at this point. And she had scooted close to you.

“Ooh, I’ve got a lot of those… Wanna see them?”

You had responded in a particularly teasing and playful manner, half-way joking, and not expecting the blonde to take to up on your offer.

Larissa’s eyes sparkle and her pupils dilated at your words. She could never refuse a challenge, especially not from you…

“Yes. And the nipples piercings too…”

You nearly chocked on your own air, as your eyes widened at record speed. It’s not that you minded, you didn’t, you truly trusted Larissa. You just hadn’t expected that from here.

“I—Ok…!” You chocked out, standing up in front of Larissa to give her a better view.

Larissa leaned forward in anticipation, bring her lips and clasping her hands together over her legs. You then started to show the blonde each of your tattoos, one by one. Eventually you finished your tour, leaving your last two piercings.

You had to admit that you were a little nervous. But you were also tipsy. And those two things kind of cancelled each other out in your case.

So you lifted your shirt with ease, showing the woman your piercings on your exposed breasts. Larissa damn near chocked on her wine at the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. Her eyes widened and she fought to keep her mouth from dropping.

Larissa, almost dumbfounded, stood up and walked a few steps forward, where she was right in front of you. She reached out delicately, running a finger around your left nipple piercing. Your breath hitched lightly.

“And then I have my Christina piercing…!” You quickly said, redirecting the focus of the conversation.

Larissa’s eyes popped back up from your tits to your eye level.

“What’s that?” She innocently asked.

“It’s… I…” you stammered, your words lost on you.

“It’s— a piercing above my lower lips…”

Larissa’s eyes widened.

The wine was affecting you both by this point…

“Show me.”

You sensed the woman’s challenge and you decided to just show the woman.

You pulled your skirt down to pool storing your feet, and you carefully moved your underwear to the side, enough where Larissa could see the silver piercing near your sex.

Larissa had no words, and for a moment she just stood there. But you blinked once, and all of a sudden Larissa was on her knees, her mouth attacking your cunt.

Your knees threatened to buckle and your groaned loudly, your hand desperately grasping Larissa for stability.

“Jesus Fuck—!!”

Larissa pulled away after one simple lick, staring up at you with wide eyes. Your breath hitched and you stared back.

“You taste so good…” she whispered.

You wanted to combust right there. Your hips instinctually bucked towards the woman’s face.

“Don’t stop on my accord” you whispered back, your words turning into a groan as Larissa immediately dove in face first.

One of your hands flew to her free locks, which she had unpinned throughout the night. Your other hand desperately cling to Larissa’s shoulder.

Larissa’s tongue expertly lapped through your folds, but only after a swipe around your Christina piercing each time. It was teasing torture.

You groaned out in a whiny and breathy tone after ten minutes of this teasing.

“Oh for fucks sake Larissa— just fuck me already!!”

Larissa didn’t need to be told twice, simply humming in delight into your cunt, and then sliding her tongue into your core. You both moaned out in delight, your grasp at her head tightening.

The woman had you seeing stars minutes after this. Larissa stopped for a moment, coming up to your face and smashing her lips into yours. You moaned at your own taste on her lips. As you did so, Larissa was swift in undressing you.

“Want to see all of you… all of your piercings… all of your tattoos…” she breathlessly pled.

After all of your clothes had been discarded, Larissa playfully pushed you onto the couch. She went to straddle you, her dress still adorning her body.

“Is this okay…?” Larissa asked, a little concerned about her weight on you.

“More than…” you groaned with a post-orgasmic smile.

Larissa smirked and nodded, slipping to kneel right in front of the couch. Her hand grabbed your legs and hooked them up and above her shoulder for her easy access.

You gasped. Larissa then took a second to let her eyes wander at all of your piercings and tattoos. She licked her lips.

You were still buzzing from your previous orgasm when Larissa began swirling a finger around your slick folds. She continued to tease you clit and the entrance to your sex on and off while she sucked and licked and marked your skin. She eagerly focused her efforts on your tatted and pierced area of exposed skin.

Your head rolled back and you let out a breathy groan. Your one hand landed back in Larissa’s platinum locks, while your other was stabilizing yourself against eh couch.

“ ‘Rissa… please…” you breathily moaned, begging the woman to take you and stop all the teasing.

Larissa chuckled, and while she didn’t stop caressing and loving on your exposed skin, she did slip one of her fingers inside your wet heat. You hummed out in delight, her one finger providing your walls something to clench around, while you didn’t feel quite full or stretched yet.

While Larissa pulled and pushed her one digit in and out of you, her mouth was latched onto one of your perky, pierced buds. Strings of more breathy groans and pleading followed out of your mouth.

“M-more please ‘Rissa…!”

Larissa chuckled, pulling her one digit out, and then slipping two fingers inside you. Now this started to stretch you out. You hissed in response, your eyes rolling back.

“Taking me so well, Darling…” the woman cooed, biting your ear lobe where you had your lobe piercing.

“God F-faster—!!” You cried out breathily.

Larissa happily obliged, fucking into you with her fingers at a faster pace. The combination of her two digits and her sultry tone had you cumming a second time for the woman that night.

This time you screamed for Larissa as she made you see stars, and your legs were wobbly and shaking even more than last time.

“That’s it, doing so good…” she encouraged you, helping you over your high.

But she didn’t stop afterwards. No, she showed no signs of stopping. Her lips quickly attached to your clit, and she slid a third finger into your aching and sensitive core. You groaned and hissed, and your hand was pushing Larissa’s head further into your cunt.

Larissa’s hot mouth put the perfect amount of suction against your puffy clit and her three finger combo made you crash over into third, smaller, but still substantial orgasm.

You fell into the couch cushions, going limp, and Larissa finally pulled away, licking her fingers with wild eyes and a wicked smirk.

“W-wearing too many clothes ‘Rissa…” you huffed, completely out of breath, raising your hand lazily and indicating to her attire.

Larissa chuckled and immediately went to unzip her dress. It pooled at her feet, and she was quick to get rid of her silky undergarment set as well. In a second, the woman had you laid back along the couch, as she hovered on top of you.

She licked her lips.

“I was right by the way… you taste insatiably delicious.” Larissa purred, staring down at you.

You gulped and took the moment to admire the woman’s frame above you. Before Larissa could do anything, you raised yourself up and latched your tongue around one of her nipples. Larissa shuddered and let out a yelp.

“I think…” you hummed, letting go of her perky bud with a pop, “It’s your turn.”

Larissa’s eyes widened at your words and she nodded lightly.

“Alright…” she breathlessly spoke.

You looked the woman up and down before deciding.

“Sit on my face.”

Her eyes widened and her expression changed to one of concern.

“Oh. No, I don’t think—”

Larissa was stopped mid-sentence, gasping and groaning, by your lips trailing from her breasts and down her stomache, as you shimmied down the couch and towards her core.

“Trust me ‘Rissa…” you purred, licking through her folds only once.

Larissa’s hips immediately jerked towards your mouth for more. And she let out the hottest moan. She seemed convinced… Larissa carefully positioned herself above your face, you eagerly grabbed her hips and stuffed your face full of her needy sex.

Larissa’s hands landed on the couch to stabilize herself, as her head was thrown back and strings of leud groans and whimpers escaped her pristine lips.

Larissa looked lake a goddess above you, as you lapped away at her folds and into her core. Her hair and tits swayed in tandem, and the moment slowed perfectly for you to just revel and delight in the other woman.

~

When you woke up, you weren’t in your own bed… and you weren’t alone… Twisted in what you assumed to be expensive, silk sheets, you found yourself to be naked and with a strong enough headache.

You knew that you should have laid back on the alcohol…

You looked around and realized that you were in Larissa’s bedroom. And then you looked next to you in the bed, and sure enough, there lay a sleeping Larissa, just as nude as you.

You gasped lightly, sitting up, as all the events from last night came back to you. Part of you felt guilty that you both had been drunk enough, but a bigger part of you was so happy that it had finally happened.

But what if Larissa didn’t feel the same…?

“What’s on your mind, Love…?” A croaky, sleepy, yet still sultry British accent spoke out, bringing you out of your thoughts.

You looked towards Larissa who was still turned towards you, but this time her eyes were lightly opened and her sapphire gaze was upon you. You blushed lightly and sunk back into the bed.

“I… I feel like I may have taken advantage of our drunken state last night…” you whispered, not being able to look the woman in the eye as you spoke.

Larissa’s hand emerged from the covers, lightly directing your face by the chin to meet her gaze.

“Darling. If anything, I took advantage of you. I practically attacked you.” She breathed out.

“No no…” you shook your head, “I loved it.”

Your words came out before you could check them, making you blush even more intensely. At this Larissa chuckled lightly.

“I did too…”

You both smiled at each other, enjoying the newfound silence and love.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[jaylver]

CASINO LOVE AFFAIR — P.JS

SYNOPSIS: Hunting supernatural beings is not your passion at all. But somehow, you were always inevitably tied to it. To make your grudge against it deeper, someone had to drag you along a bumpy ride. Who was it? The man that broke into your house in the middle of the night to convince you to join him to save his lost brother in Sin City, Vegas. Jay had one chance to save his brother, and another one chance to rekindle something that was lost between you and him. All in that one casino.

PAIRINGS: supernatural hunter!jay x supernatural hunter afab!reader

GENRE: frenemies (with benefits) to lovers, supernatural au, inspired by tv series "supernatural", jay is based off "dean winchester", romance, angst, action

WARNING(S): profanities, drinking, mentions of death/murder, violence, suggestive content (no smut), slightly possessive jay, demons, possessions

WC: 11k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: specially dedicated to my supernatural enthusiasts, especially to my dean girlies (gn) who loves jay! rest assured, there's going to be hoon ver (based off sammy) <3 i hope you'll love this one as much as i enjoyed writing it, please leave feedbacks!!

masterlist | © jaylver 2023

In this world, accidents and tragedies were recurring happenings, but what people didn't understand was the fact that neither were coincidences. You heard that right, it might sound insanely crazy, but the supernatural exists. 

There were two types of people on planet Earth. Ones that were blessed with obliviousness, unaware that the local murder case wasn't just a simple serial killer on the loose. Then, there's the ones that were rather cursed with the ability of hunting, knowing the real truths behind tragedies and solving said supernatural cases. They were known as hunters.

No, not the hunters that chase after deers with a gun, but rather chasing after demons, vampires and much more freaky stuff with more than just a single gun.

You were, unfortunately, part of the small percentage of hunters that were tasked to hunt supernatural beings and protect others. You never wanted this life, you despised it, the constant fear constantly followed. It was your father who dragged you into this, being a hunter himself, it was natural he had to train you to become one as well. 

You were an only child, so it was no surprise your father ended up dragging you along to hunts and let's say the amount of therapy wasn't enough to heal the traumas you've witnessed and experienced. Dread was the feeling you carried up until your 20s, tired of this life and craving the normal college life of an ordinary being, but then that was when everything changed. Your father was killed. 

You guessed it, freak accident with a vampire. Fantastic. Just to make things even more complicated, the infamous Park brothers turned up at your front door pretending to be police officers, doing their usual investigation, or rather identity fraud. What they didn't know was that you knew who they were, so they were eventually busted. You still accepted their help either way, finding the vampires and bringing your father to justice.

That all happened a few years ago, constantly staying in contact with the Park brothers while they travelled around hunting and you stayed home merrily, occasionally meeting if they were in town. Mostly, the best you could repay them was at least some help in information. You were glad to finally start afresh, getting a new job and shopping for new furniture. You thought this was it, time to settle down and put everything in the past.

But, you spoke too soon.

You were a light sleeper. From the years of your father's gruelling training, you learnt to listen for any weird noses during the night, and it surely did help. You could barely sleep, hearing odd creaks as your adrenaline increased, imagining the scenario where you had to reach for the iron knife under your bed. 

Creak. Creak. Creak.

The faint footstep got closer and louder, reaching your side of the bed, standing right beside you and stopped eventually. You sensed a figure, this wasn't good. Demon? Vampire? Your hand slowly travelled down to the spot of your knife, eyes shut tight and heart beating crazily. In the count of three, strike.

One … two … three—

"Woah, woah, woah, easy there tiger,"

Your hand reacted first, thrusting the knife forward without your eyes open, but once the voice travelled into your ears and your mind turned, you opened your eyes in an instant.

This was worse than a demon. 

"Jay?"

One of the Park brothers happened to be standing in the middle of your bedroom. At three in the morning. Were you going to question how he got in? Maybe later.

"Y/N," he saluted back at you, a noticeable grin on his face despite the darkness, but you remained impassive, a wary look on your face and your hold on the knife didn't relax.

“Hold on,” you said, scrambling out of bed, scepticism clear in your voice, your stance unchanged as you held tight onto the knife. “Are you really Jay?”

Jay tilted his head, an eyebrow raised. "You're seriously doubting me? Right now?"

"Hey, I'm a hunter, you're a hunter, we both know this is basic caution,"

"Alright," he threw his hands up, giving in. "Quiz me,"

"Where's my birthmark?"

"You're seriously asking this—?"

"You've forgotten it?" You stared accusingly at him, the knife in your hand was dangerously close to him and he was clearly aware of that too. "You're the only person who knows this," you narrowed your gaze.

"It's been ages since the last time we fucked—"

"Can you not bring that up?"

"Fine. On your back," he answered, his eyes flickering between you and the knife. 

"Where?"

"That specific?" He whined, but once he saw you were, in fact, not kidding, he cleared his throat. "Lower back, on the right, almost at the side. It's a small birthmark that is shaped like a heart,"

You blinked. Thankful it wasn't some creature disguised as him, but also churning in slight rage that he was here. Look, you and Jay had … some interesting history. No bad blood was caused from it, but it had affected your ties with him, which explained why he was the lesser favourite brother to you. He was never going to know that though.

Just for old times sake and also not seeing him for months, you threw the knife onto the bed, engulfing him into a hug. "Gods, you're alive,"

He chuckled, his hand rubbing your back. "Of course I am. Doubting my skills now?"

"Jay, you literally died and came back before," you pulled away, staring pointedly at him.

"That was the past, this is the present," he waved it off, coughing awkwardly and you rolled your eyes. You switched on your table lamp, taking a small bottle from your bedside drawer and handing it to him.

"What's this? Complimentary water for guests?" 

"Holy water, if you count that as complimentary,"

"You're kidding. I passed your quiz,"

"I'm trying to be sure there's no hidden demon inside your body, okay?" You raised the small bottle to eye level. "Drink up,"

"Fine," Jay gritted, snatching the bottle from your hand, chugging half of it down. No demon, thankfully. "See?"

"Just wanted to confirm," you tossed the bottle back into the drawer, turning to face him with a quizzical stare. "Now, are you going to tell me why you've broken into my house in the middle of the night?"

"Breaking in? Pft," 

"Jay," you said flatly, a stern look gazing back at him. "What are you doing here?"

Jay clenched his jaw, seemingly rethinking his words in his mind, calculatingly picking the right ones to make sure you wouldn't explode. "I need help,"

"No,"

"What?" He was taken aback by your bluntness. "You always helped us,"

"Busting into my house at 3 AM doesn't sound like your usual need for my help. You want me to do something more hands-on, don't you?"

Jay was silent. You got him there.

"Jay, I am always here for help. You do know I literally commit illegal things just to dig up information for you two right? But that's the most I'll do and the least I can do for you, I swore I wouldn't go back into hunting,"

"But this one's important,"

"You have Sunghoon to help you anyway,"

"He's gone," 

The next few sentences you had in mind died in your throat. The other Park brother was missing? There was no way this happened. They were skilled hunters, what went wrong?

Jay cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, noticing your obvious shock. "Look, that's why I'm here. Hoon's gone, poof, missing. One second he was at the motel and the next when I got back, he's gone. I should've never left,"

"Any ideas what it could've been?"

"No," he shook his head, frustration laced in the way he had his eyebrows furrowed. 

"How are we supposed to find him? Jay, I'm no sorcerer or a crossroad demon that can summon him up. I could be as equally lost as you are,"

He ran his hands through his hair, heaving a deep and heavy sigh. "I don't know either. I'm fucked, okay? I don't have anyone else to find but you, and there's no one that knows Hoon as much as I do but you,"

"How do I know I can trust you this time?" You mindlessly let the words slip out, referring to the incident that caused the slight crack between you two, its effect remained even after.

"I told you I'm sorry already, Y/N," he said softly, catching on your innuendo at once. 

It was the last time you went on an actual hunt with the Park brothers when it happened. Crazy monsters and demon ladies were nothing too big for you three, but the moment a human was involved, the hunt became vulnerable. 

A part of you wanted to save the innocent man even though he was long gone and already affected by the creature, turning wild gradually. Being the rash and impulsive person Jay was, he demanded to kill the man at once, Sunghoon trying to calm him down while you fought back. 

It was a stupid argument, you were emotional and he was aggressive, Sunghoon trying to be neutral and diffusing the tension, but failed. In the end, a cure was found but Jay had already killed the man. Even though you were able to save the others, a part of you continued to seethe with anger.

'Too emotional' was what Jay called you. Storming away was the only thing you could muster in that moment, and it took a few days before he showed up at your front door apologising with a bouquet of flowers. Were you fully satisfied? Not really. Did things change? Definitely.

As for now, you pondered thoughtfully. Despite your valiant efforts of escaping the supernatural part of your past, you knew it was imminent it would come back, just not like this. Sunghoon was a nice guy, he and his brother helped you and your family before, and some part of you wanted to do the same. You swore you didn't want to hunt with the Park brothers after that incident, and it seemed that you had no choice but to eat your words. You were going to regret your decision, you know so.

"Okay," it came out more of a whisper, which made Jay lean in closer, an eyebrow raised.

"What?"

"Okay, fine, I'll go with you to find Sunghoon. Don't make me go back on my word," 

"Right, right," Jay said rather excitedly, his eyes beaming. "Gods, how did I manage to get the Y/N L/N to hunt with me? I am a lucky man,"

"Don't test your luck," you took the iron knife from your bed and pointed it at him, earning a sleazy eye roll from the latter.

"You still have your gears with you?" He glanced around your room, not a single weapon in sight, only messy heaps of clothes.

"Duh," your hand reached for the bottom of your pillow, pulling out another blade, made purely from iron, perfect for killing supernatural beings. "When are we leaving?"

"Best before day break,"

"So … roadtrip?"

"You bet."

Begrudgingly, you shoved some clothes into a small carry on, packing guns, knives, blades, salt. Yes, salt, sodium. It might seem weird but salt literally saves lives, literally. An insignificant kitchen ingredient held a significant role by protecting people from spirits attack. Rock salts were used as ammunition as well to ward spirits off for a short time. Insane, right?

Jay helped you fit your bags into the trunk of his Chevrolet Impala, one that he has been driving almost forever. Among your bags, there were a shit ton of weapons, quite messily scattered around, some stuck on the trunk door. It was certainly a rich collection. 

“Hop in, dollface. Be my guest,”

You rolled your eyes as Jay opened the car door for you. He was still the same old Jay. Promiscuous, teasing, haughty, but you supposed that was the charming point of him. You remembered the insides of the car as clear as day when you got in, almost felt like it was just yesterday when you were in it.

“Where to?” you turned to look over at Jay who had just slammed the car door shut, his hands on the wheel, a cheshire grin pulled at his lips.

“Vegas,” he flashed you a toothy smirk, but you could only mirror his expression with an unamused one. 

“Sin city? You’re kidding. Why on earth are we heading there—God, Jay, don’t tell me you developed some gambling addiction—”

“No! For fuck’s sake,” Jay pulled the car to start, the headlights brightened the dark street at once. Well, goodbye to your home, you hoped you would make it back alive. “It was where Hoonie and I had our last hunt, the place he went missing, and funny thing, the hunt is incomplete,”

“So, you’re telling me you drove all the way to my house from Vegas in the middle of an unfinished hunt just because Sunghoon’s gone,”

“‘Just because’? Y/N, it’s life or death!”

“I’m not saying this isn’t important!” you bite back, sleep deprivation wasn’t helping your increased agitation. “Didn’t this happen before? One of you goes missing and the other solves the case and finds each other? What’s so big this time?”

“This did happen,” Jay sighed, the bags under his eyes obvious despite the darkness surrounding you, the tuned down rock music played faintly on the radio. “I went lost, got captured by some psycho killer, whatever, but it was traceable, it always was, but this time … something’s different and it’s definitely not only a psycho killer, it’s something stronger, darker,” 

“Jolly. A demon,” you wondered aloud, Jay humming in agreement. “Mind telling me what hunt you and Sunghoon were on in Vegas before his disappearance?”

“Saw on the news about deaths in a casino, so Hoon and I decided to check it out, and guess what we found? Sulphur,” demons tend to leave sulphur around, finding sulphur basically indicated a demon’s presence, pretty basic information.

“A demon on massacre duties in a casino? I feel like this one is out for money, something to do with his greed and desire,” you speculated, unsurprised as these were common occurrences.

"Likely," Jay clicked his fingers, his eyebrows bunched together, a scheming look on his face. "Here's the thing, we were somewhat on the road to uncovering some truths, on who the real demon was, but that's when this happened, it's no coincidence that he probably took Hoonie,"

"Which means you still don't know who's the mastermind in that casino right now? Or where Sunghoon could possibly be?"

"No," he answered bitterly, his fingers strumming the steering wheel softly. "And I think the jackass jumps into different bodies working there each time, it's hard to trace,"

"Are we going around splashing holy water? How are we supposed to know whose body is being possessed?"

"We don't," he said plainly, and matter-of-factly, turning his face just enough for you to catch him winking at you. "But we do know he's a higher up, a man with a position, or maybe positions,"

"Guess it's our lucky day testing our fortune on catching demons and winning at casinos,"

"Looks just like the movies," 

Upon entering the state of Nevada at nightfall, you were welcomed with the blistering nightlife of Las Vegas, the bright lights blinding your sights and you couldn't help but be fascinated.

"Where are we heading?"

"Towards the hotel the man was murdered in," Jay nodded at one of the big and tall hotels ahead. "There's a famous casino in that hotel, lots of people constantly betting, rich and powerful men are frequently present,"

"A perfect spot for a money hungry demon,"

"Bingo," 

Jay parked his beloved car and was rather sad leaving it behind in a shabby parking lot. You knew he loved his car, sometimes clingy and attached, but he loved it a little too much. 

Grabbing your bags and a seperate one full of weapons, you and Jay headed into the hotel and towards the reception, where a bright young woman named Carrie was smiling back at you both.

"You're not going to make me spray holy water at her, right?" You said quietly in hopes of the receptionist not hearing it.

"I'm not stopping you," Jay passed you an unamused half grin.

"Hello! How may I assist you?" Carrie greeted enthusiastically, but frankly, none of you could reciprocate the same energy.

"We'd like to book two rooms please," Jay slid the card towards Carrie, hoping to get this over with quickly.

"Just two?" She glanced between you and Jay, a question mark basically floating above her head. "We have a 'couples exclusive' promotion though,"

You and Jay shared a look, turning back to the receptionist. "Two, please,"

"There's free access to the facilities and the buffet," Carrie continued on. "Oh—uhm—there's a jacuzzi here too,"

Jay turned to you, you stared back, a knowing look passed between one another, releasing sighs of displeasure.

"We'll take it,"

It would be an understatement to just say the hotel was fancy, it was more than fancy. High ceilings, marble floors, chandeliers, everything was almost in gold. You were able to catch a slight glimpse of the casino as you passed, and indeed, it was packed with people. Boy, you were about to have a time trying to find out who's the real imposter.

"I definitely spotted some sulphur just now," Jay shook his head, his eyes scanning the floor, walls and surroundings. "I think this one has minions here,"

"Amazing," you clicked your tongue, impatiently stalking through the soundless corridor in search of your designated room. You were dying to dive into your hotel bed. 

"Do you think we have enough?" Jay eyed the bag of weapons as you two stood outside your room, but just before you could answer, a stranger appeared next to you two, holding a keycard to the room next to yours.

"Oh, I'm sure it's enough," the stranger, a middle aged lady, laughed.

You glanced at Jay, a cautionary sign was understood. "W–what do you mean?" Jay chuckled nervously.

"Condoms? That's what you meant, right?" The lady snickered, and you were absolutely dumbfounded. "Just keep it down kids, it's not entirely soundproof here and I need sleep. It's nice meeting you guys!"

The lady slammed the door behind her, leaving you and Jay standing there like statues, a little confusion and surprise in the air. 

"Condoms," you echoed, shuddering slightly.

Jay turned to look at you, a pensive look in his gaze, eyebrows raised slightly. "Do you … unless—?" 

"Zip it," you hoisted the bags, opened the door and stormed in while Jay remained standing there, a defensive look replacing his previous one.

"Hey, I didn't even say it," he shouted from the outside, taking his bags from the floor.

"I know what you're trying to say, thank you! Now get your ass in here before I shut you out,"

"Yes, ma'am," Jay scrambled in and shut the door close, soon noticing your figure looming over the bed and was curious. "What's up?"

"There's only one bed," you glanced down at the king size bed, a heart formed from rose petals decorated it and you found it highly ridiculous. "And they made it romantic, how sweet,"

"You're kidding me," Jay ran his hand across his tired face, a weary sigh leaving his lips. "I'll take the couch,"

You stopped him there. "Dude, you're going to be hunting demons, I'm not letting you get backaches from a lousy couch,"

"There's no way you're sleeping on it either,"

You bit your lips, maybe sleeping on the same bed for a few nights wouldn't hurt, right? It certainly wasn't your first time with Jay anyway, but business was business, and this was far from being professional.

"Let's just share the same bed," 

Jay stared doubtfully at you, as if he couldn't believe those words had come out of your mouth. "You're up for that?"

"Do you think we have any other choices?" You crossed your arms, mirroring his pointed gaze.

"Touche," he nodded thoughtfully, dropping his bags to a corner. "Just don't kick me in my sleep,"

"I'll be happy to kick you now instead."

"Stop staring!"

Despite being tired and worn out, you and Jay dragged yourselves out from the room in hopes of some food and checked out the hotel and casino. 

The inside of the casino was bright and painted in gold, red themed colours. It was extremely busy and crowded, many were yelling in surprise and joy, while there were those in despair over losing. Jay, on the other hand, was too busy staring at by-passing girls to focus on the real purpose.

"What?" He hissed defensively, winking at another server and you rolled your eyes at his never changing behaviour.

"You can enjoy whatever you want after everything, okay? Not to be a killjoy but there's a demon here that took your brother,"

"Hey! I'm aware,"

"Sure," you mumbled sarcastically, looking around the table and observing people's faces, but you knew none of these normal citizens were possessed.

"Do you think we can meet the host or manager tonight?" Jay made sure to whisper that quietly, glancing around warily.

"You think one of them would be possessed?"

"The chances are high. Hoon and I went over to the dead man's house the other day, the wife told us he was close to the host, something by the name Sam? Sam Clerk?"

"Looking for me?"

You've never turned around so quick, your hand instinctively reached into your pocket for the small bottle of holy water, but Jay's hand stopped you discreetly, giving you one of his 'I got this' look.

"You're Sam Clerk?" Jay laughed awkwardly, playing it cool and casual.

The man before you was tall and seemingly in his mid 30s, his smile was wide and welcomingly, but there was a malevolent energy emitted from him. "Why yes, that's me. And you two are …?"

"I'm … Jack Williams," 

Sam glanced at you expectantly, and if you could dig yourself a grave then from the embarrassment, hoy would've. You cleared your throat, "I'm Stacy … Williams, he's my husband,"

You felt Jay's gaze on you, burning into your skin, but you ignored him and looped your arm around his. 

"Oh!" Sam clapped in surprise, a pleasant smile spread across his face. "You two must be new here, right? I've never seen you before,"

"Right, we are," Jay patted your hand, plastering on his most convincing smile. "That was why we wanted to find you! We heard how great of a host you were and wanted an introduction,"

"I'm pleased, but I'm a little busy tonight, so I can't assist you unfortunately," a flash of change in his eyes was barely noticeable, but you caught onto it. "But there's a charity ball we're holding in two days, I would love to invite you both to attend,"

"We'd love to," you said almost immediately.

Sam chuckled, nodding in satisfaction. "Great. I'll see you … then."

Without another word, he left in a dash, moving almost like a shadow. You unknowingly let out a shaky breath, feeling goosebumps rise. "His energy was so off,"

"I know," Jay was thinking hard, his mind working extra hours. "So, it's him … but there's definitely another one which we don't know, there's no way this would be so easy, and we also need to know where Hoon is,"

"I think I have an idea," you held onto his forearm, pulling him on and continued your walk around the casino. "I did some digging on the history behind this hotel and the casino, and it goes way back,"

"How long?"

"Centuries. It was built on a cursed ground, but they didn't care, and guess what? There were deaths here over those years too, unexplained ones. Weird, huh? But that's not the point. There's some hidden underground chamber somewhere here, built by someone from the olden days, and it's said to harbour bad energy,"

"Attracts demons,"

"Perfect hideout,"

"But why Hoon?" Jay scratched his head, eyebrows furrowed and increasingly frustrated.

"I mean, you guys were hunting the demons and they caught on. Plus, timing was bad, you happened to be out,"

"True," Jay sighed. "We should ask that Sam guy more stuff during that charity ball, and we should start doing some digging tomorrow,"

"I'll use my flirting skills and wiggle information off him," you grinned, nudging his side teasingly.

"You should use it on me instead," he grumbled noisily.

"No chance," you smiled sarcastically at him, pulling him towards the bar. "Let's just enjoy tonight and drink a little, I definitely need some before diving into … everything,"

"Get ready to drink until you fall, L/N,"

"Challenge accepted, Park."

The night faded into a blur, you and Jay somehow wandered off without one another, but stayed within the vicinity. You were drinking alone at the bar, the alcohol seemed like water to you, your tolerance coming strong. 

Jay was off at the side, leaning against the wall as he openly flirts with a random blonde girl. Laughing suavely, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his charming looks sweeping the blonde off her feet. 

You shouldn't be feeling this way, but you would be lying if you said you were indifferent to him and the girl. It was no surprise you and him had history, even on the intimate level, but to have feelings for him? That was something new you slowly came about to realise.

Onto your new glass of gin, Jay slid into the empty seat next to you, looking far from drunk. You forgot Jay had an alcohol tolerance that challenged yours, making him an interesting drinking partner to have on most nights. 

"What happened to the girl?" 

"What girl?" He craned his neck to stare off at the distance before turning back to look at you, his face inching closer to yours. "Blondie? Nah," he shook his head, a playful grin appearing on his handsome face. "Can't believe I'm saying this but are you perhaps … jealous?"

"Me? Jealous? Don't be ridiculous," you pushed his face away, eliciting a humorous laugh from him. 

"I think you are," Jay said in a sing-song tone under his breath. "Rest assure, sweetheart, I never fucked anyone else ever since our last night together," he winked, taking his jacket hanging from the chair and offered you his hand, which you grudgingly accepted.

"Are you sure you're not lying to me? Park Jong Seong, the man who hunts demons and loves to fuck around hasn't been bringing girls back?" 

"Don't doubt me or my feelings here," he feigned a crying face dramatically to which you pulled a face at. “You’re seriously underestimating my feelings for you,” he said, a little seriously this time, raising his eyebrows at you before letting your hands go and leading the way back to the room, making sure to turn around to check up on you from time to time. 

You were tired by the time you’ve reached your room, changing out of your outfit into a much more comfortable one while Jay did the same in another room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that you slept next to a man, even if he was one you’ve shared a bed with once.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jay yawned as he got under the sheets, you followed suit, shifting around for a better position. Your’s and Jay’s back faced each other, a distance obvious between you two.

“Night, Jay,” you switched the lights off, the room was dark, but you were wide awake. The unfamiliar bed had you tossing and turning, but also making an effort not to bump into Jay while doing so. 

“We haven’t done this in a while,” Jay suddenly spoke into the darkness after barely ten minutes. 

You bit back a smile, wrapping your hands tighter around yourself. “Yeah, we haven’t,”

"If I have to be honest, I miss it," you couldn't see Jay's face, only picturing it as he continued on. "I miss waking up next to you,"

"Jay …" you trailed off, heart squeezing slightly. "You know we can't,"

"I know," he repeated, a beat passed. "But what if we can?"

"You said it was too dangerous, you didn't want it,"

"I didn't say I didn't want it," he was quick to retaliate. "I want it, you know I do, but this job, this life, your life, I'll be a walking supernatural attractor,"

A short moment of silence filled the space between you and him, you let out a sigh. "Whatever it is, I'm willing to drop it for you, whether it was years ago or now, I don't think my feelings have changed. But that’s for you to accept anyway,"

Jay didn’t say anything more, your tiredness eventually brought you to sleep, unaware that he was still wide awake, turning around to glance at the back of your head, head filled with thoughts of you. Jay knew that being a hunter was a dangerous job, which meant romantic relationships and commitment were two hard things to tackle, even harder than killing supernatural things. But you were different to him. A one night together somehow turned his stone heart soft. The Park Jong Seong was truthfully in love with you. You were the angel to the devil in his heart. What’s stopping him was everything around his life, his cold demeanour, his fears.

The night melted into snores and wild dreams, the sun was soon peeking out of the horizons and sunlight streamed into your room. You were awoken by your alarm blaring by the bedside, slamming it off and trying stretching your limbs, but as you said, you tried.

Jay's arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, his body pressed against your side as its weight leaned against yours. You haven't been this intimate with him for months, and it certainly sparked something in you.

"God, Jay, wake up," you tapped his arm, trying to yank it off you, but he only retaliated by hugging your body tighter and tugging you closer to him.

"5 minutes," was all he could mumble before continuing his snores.

You scoffed, giving in with no choice. Since Jay indirectly wanted a lazy morning in, you decided it was best to call room service instead. 

"Good morning, can I order some room service?" It was an awkward position with the phone against your ear, menu in your hands and a grown man's arm draped across your abdomen.

The women on the other line coughed uncomfortably. "Good morning, miss, but room service is currently unavailable. Something happened overnight …" she drifted off and your face scrunched into an expression of confusion.

"What … happened?"

"I don't know if I should be saying this—"

"I won't complain, I swear, I just want to know," you tried to be as convincing as you could, and somehow the women complied.

"A murder happened, in the casino, again," she breathed out, a pinch of disbelief in her tone. "I think it's cursed,"

Oh, you don't say.

"Is there anyone who's hurt?"

"Other than the murdered rich tycoon, no,"

Rich tycoon, as expected.

"Got it. Be safe,"

"You too."

You placed down the phone, shaking the man beside you who only let out gruff huffs of annoyance. "Hm?" 

"Don't 'hm' me, get your ass up. We've got trouble."

Dragging a five foot ten grown man out of the bed was definitely a struggle, but in the end, it worked. After spilling the information you got earlier, he seemed content with just a cup of coffee and stormed towards the crime scene at once.

As expected, the police had surrounded the area and curious bystanders were peeking in from left and right. You and Jay slipped into the crowd, making sure to scan the area as much as you could, and as expected, traces of sulphur. 

"Another one bites the dust, huh?" Jay hummed as you two roamed around the hotel aimlessly, unable to do much more but laying low since police officers were still around.

"Have you ever thought about there being more than one demon here?"

"Yeah, that guy we met with his demon minions, duh—"

"Forget about the minions, let's think about the powerful ones," you bite your lips thoughtfully. "Remember this hotel being built centuries ago?"

"Yeah?"

"Two brothers owned it. One was the head of everything while the other managed the casino mostly," you said, glancing around. "Ring a bell? I'm pretty sure the guy's just a vessel, they were the ones working here before they got possessed, the demon's in those bodies,"

"You're a genius," Jay gasped, coming to realisation as he pieced it one by one.

"Now, I think I also got a faint idea of the secret dungeon. Their office,"

"Any history lesson?"

"No, just a blind guess, but my sixth sense told me so and you know how trustable my sixth sense is,"

"It sure is," Jay nodded in agreement, proven by your skills in previous hunts. "Should we break into it?"

"Are you crazy? You're walking into hell," you knew it was no secret how impulsive he was, which explained why you were there in the first place. "I reckon we strike during the charity ball,"

"But how are we going to identify the other brother first?"

"Oh, speaking of the devil," you nodded over at the crime scene that was now a distance away. Two men appeared, one was Sam, and the other was someone you've never seen before, but strangely held a resemblance to Sam.

They possessed brothers? You're joking.

"That must be the man of the hour," Jay whistled, eyeing the two men conversing with the officers. The man was taller than Sam, older looking and had a similar friendly face to him that also seemed intimidating.

"They're leaving," the two brothers bid farewell to the officers, watching them leave before turning around and walking away themselves. Jay and his impulsiveness just had to strike again. "Let's follow them,"

"Huh?"

Before you fully register Jay's words, that fucker pulled you by the wrist and started sprinting off into the direction the demon brothers were heading. If you could sock Jay in the jaw at that moment, you would've.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" You hissed quiet enough to not blow your cover, following the brothers a short distance away as they headed towards their office.

"Trying not to, but shush, we need to hear what they're saying,"

The brother stopped just before the door to their office, you and Jay followed suit, your body almost crashing into him from the abrupt halt. Jay dragged you into a dingy closet packed with cleaning supplies, great, and there was barely any room to move, let alone take a step back, and thus you found yourself in a compromising position.

Jay glanced down at you, a smirk etched on his face. "Not our first time, huh—"

"One word and you're not making it out alive, now hush and listen," you glared at him, effectively shutting him up but failed at wiping off his smug smile.

From the other side of the door, you heard shuffling and the voice of Sam Clerck. "But John—"

Jay's eyes widened, and you knew what he meant, there was a name. 

"—the amount of killing is making this whole thing suspicious to the mortals,"

"It's annoying that you're calling me 'John'," the latter spat. 

"It's not my fault that's the name of the original bodies. Fine, Elijah, don't you think we should rest on the killings for the moment,"

"What? Elliot, here's no way we're doing that, look at the fortune we're making,"

"Mind you, we have a possible hunter captured in the office's dungeon, what are we doing with him? Oh, there's probably other hunters coming as well now that they've slowly caught onto us,"

"Brother, stop overthinking and fretting," Elijah, the presumed older brother, sighed. "We could use him as a sacrifice—"

You clamped a hand over Jay's mouth, knowing him too well that he would let out noises and maybe burst out the door, but there was no way you're letting him do either of those.

"Or just kill him. We've been treating him well with food, excluding the fact that there's no sunlight," 

"We'll see how it goes, underground or not, another killing is too risky," 

"Whatever,"

You heard the door click shut, the two brothers already entered their office. Jay licked your hand and you reacted at once, shooting him a disgusted expression and opening the door, a gush of fresh air filled your lungs and you're no longer pressed against Jay, hooray!

"You heard that? They're going to serve my brother up on a platter or just directly cook him into a meat skewer,"

You pushed Jay to move along, avoiding the risk of getting caught. "We know he's in the office now, and there's definitely a way to get him out, can you try being hopeful for once?"

"It's Hoon we're talking about, so no,"

"Look, Elijah and Elliot, they're the Vamson brothers,"

"Who?"

"They're the original owners of this hotel and they got executed from murder cases. Explains why they knew the dungeon and all,"

"What do we do now?"

"Not 'now', tomorrow," you grinned, a plan brewing in mind. "We're splitting them up,"

The day consisted of you and Jay running around as inconspicuous as you could manage. The plan was slowly forming over a glass of whiskey. Jay would be onto distracting 'Sam' while you get closer to 'John', getting him to bring you back to his office and free Sunghoon by locating the dungeon.

"Must you really flirt with him?" Jay grumbled as he sipped on his glass.

"Is it your turn to be jealous now?"

"Yeah," Jay nodded straightforwardly, catching you a little off guard. "Pains me seeing you flirt with someone other than me,"

You rolled your eyes, playing it off nonchalant and casual, but internally? Your heart was doing backflips. "It's not actual flirting anyway, you dramatic ass,"

He let out a small, humorous laugh. "I know," he hummed. "But I just don't like seeing others with my girl,"

"I don't belong to you, Jay," you raised your eyebrows, playing around with your glass, heartbeat gradually increasing.

"You've been mine since the day you let me touch you," he said almost so nonchalantly that it gave you a whiplash. His words were unexpected, and it certainly stirred something in you. 

"You're insane," you scoffed, completely hiding the fact that you were secretly blushing.

He simply shrugged. "Anyway, I'd like to catch some air outside, you coming?"

"Will you be smoking?"

"I quit that shit a while ago,"

You smiled at that. "Good. But nah, you can go on without me, but come back once you're done, I don't feel safe,"

"Obviously, I'm not leaving you alone," Jay carrassed your arm slightly, a small reassuring look present in his gaze. 

"Got your gun? Knife? Weapons—?"

"Chill, Y/N, I'm only going out for a while,"

"Knowing you, you're going to get into trouble,"

Jay winked, his usual playful grin on display. "You bet,"

To prove you absolutely right, he did.

Upon returning, you felt an odd shift in Jay's energy. As much as you were in denial, you knew your sixth sense was always, forever right, gut feelings never lie.

He started off normal, but then he got all … how could you put it? Sexy? Seducing? Sensual? Definitely not Park Jong Seong's normal way of seducing someone, knowing it very well especially since you were a victim to his seductions.

You played along, pretending stupid, and it gave you enough time to deduce that he was possessed. Demons that stormed the hotel got to him in the end and you had to be the one to clean the mess up? Unbelievable. 

Now, here you were, in his lap back in your hotel room, making out. You heard that right. 

His hands tugged your hair, yours wandered his body, lips moving passionately against one another, you had to remind yourself that this WASN'T him! 

You broke the kiss, heaving slightly as you reached for the small flask on your bedside table, a plan already in your mind. "Gosh, let me take a sip, want some?"

Jay—or demon Jay—nodded at the flask in your hand with some interest. "What's in there?"

"Whiskey, your favourite," you lied cunningly through your teeth.

"I'll have some," 

You passed it to Jay, watching his every move, from him taking the flask, holding it up to his lips, to downing the contents into his mouth, then a loud scream broke out from him.

"Holy water," you clicked your tongue. "And you're so not Jay," 

You threw yourself away from him, backing away from the bed. Jay turned to you sharply, piercingly glaring at you, his eyes turned fully black, leaving no whites. Oh yeah, hundred percent possessed. 

He tried charging at you, but he then hit an invisible barrier. No matter how much he lunged and punched, he was stuck, and never escaping.

"Devil's trap, whoops," it was a precaution you took, drawing a sigil trap under the bed that was designed specially to trap demons, and there was no way out unless the circle was broken. It was great luck you got the demon twisted around your finger to have him follow you into bed. "Now, what's your business? Why are you possessing him?"

"You don't want to continue doing what you're doing here," he seethed out.

"I've got someone to save,"

He cackled with a look of disdain. "You humans are so weak minded and hero wannabes. How about you save yourself and forget about the guy? You don't know who you're dealing with or what you're even doing,"

"Oh, I don't?" You pulled the bedside table's drawer open, your trusty notebook was tucked inside and you snatched it out, showing it gloriously. "Look at this!"

"A stupid little notebook? You're not scaring me,"

"Are you sure? What if I told you there were some verses in here? You know, those types of verses, the ones that can make you go away. What if I start reciting some verses?" You taunted, your innocent smile riled him further.

"Come on then," he poked, challenging you. 

"Seriously? I'm giving you choices and time before I send you back to hell. I'm really kind,"

Jay gulped, despite all that, he remained a confident front and a cocky look. "Your stupid chantings won't work on me,"

"A low level demon like you telling me what I know and don't know? Please, save some talk and let me show you what I'm best at," you flipped open your notebook, following the usual ritual and started the latin incantations.

Jay stirred, yelling out and his body shuddered. As your chantings got louder and more aggressive, the demon from within seemed to be fighting to escape. Finally, with one last verse, Jay's mouth opened and a flight of black smoke escaped from within and dissolved back to, hopefully, hell.

"Fuck," you ran towards the bed as you saw his body going limp, getting there just in time for his body to fall into your arms heavily. "I got you, Jay, you're okay,"

"Huh?" His eyes were half opened, looking worse than a drunk. 

"Get some rest, we'll talk about this tomorrow. You need it."

"I got possessed, then we made out, and you exorcised me?"

"That was about it,"

It was the next morning, room service thankfully available now and you were having breakfast in bed with Jay as you poured over the happenings of the crazy night. Of course, Jay was having difficulties swallowing his food as he had zero recollections whatsoever, blacking out the moment the demon entered his body. 

"So … we made out?"

"Seriously? Is that the important part to you?"

"We never did for months and the demon got to do it with you? This is trippy and I'm salty," he huffed, chewing on his sunny side egg sadly. "Anyway, did the demon say anything?"

"Right, he did. Something about how we shouldn't be doing what we're doing now, like a warning I think,"

"Eh, typical demon bullshit, they always get into your minds and spit some mind boggling ass words to get you all worked up. It's nothing,"

You were unconvinced, crossing your arms nervously. "You don't actually think there's something wrong, right? Something bigger than we think?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he shrugged, uncertainty lingered in his words. "Either way, we have bigger problems. Tonight, the charity ball, saving Hoonie,"

"You're right."

Running around the streets looking for some gown to buy was harder than expected. Buying it rather than renting was a stupid choice, a dumb and expensive one. But what could you do? You're probably going to rip it up anyway. Not in that manner.

The day was soon coming to an end. Earlier on, the two of you made sure to have your bags packed and ready, dumping them into the car in advance. God knows what's happening after the event, all you knew was that you're probably not stepping foot back into the hotel room again.

"Are you done?" Jay shouted from the other room as you finished some final touch ups.

"Can you wait for a second? Jeez!"

You burst open the door, meeting Jay's gaze at once. He was dressed handsomely in a suit, a plain black suit that hugged his muscles and body in a perfect way as if it was tailored for him.

As for you, you were in a simple floor length black gown, one with two surprises: an open back and a thigh slit. You weren't a big fan but it is what it is. It was likely made out of some cheap silk and half assed production, but this happened to be your only option. 

"Fucking hell," he whistled under his breath, his eyes swept your figure from top to bottom and back to the top again to lock his gaze with yours. "Wow. You look amazing, more than amazing actually,"

He took a step, and another, until he was directly in front of you, face to face. "Is it okay if I touch you?" He whispered under his breath, something flashing in those brown irises. 

"Yeah,"

His hand slithered around your waist, tugging you forward into his chest, eyes widened as it caught you by surprise. Being this close to him had you thinking of yesterday. Despite the fact that he was possessed, it was physically still him, meaning you did kiss him, and God, he missed him and his lips.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Yesterday,"

"That demon got you hooked?"

"You're annoying. I mean, kissing you," you faltered towards the end, gradually getting flustered. 

"Would you like to recreate that?" Jay jokingly leaned in and you pushed his face away, laughing slightly.

"We don't have the time to, idiot,"

Jay shook his head, a small smile adorned his pretty features. "After all this … maybe we should talk it out. About us. Just you and I,"

"Definitely," you nodded, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "We should leave too, it's time," 

"You're right," he sighed, obvious disappointment in his voice as he glanced down at his wristwatch. "Let's go," he slowly let his hold of you go, but his hand remained around your waist as you two walked side by side.

That cheeky bastard's hands gradually travelled lower and lower as you walked, teasing you until it reached your lower back. Your head snapped over to give him a questioning glance, to which he reciprocated with a shrug.

"Hands up—" you moved his hands from your lower back back to your waist, eyes glaring at him, "—here,"

"You weren't complaining the last time we fucked,"

"Over a year back,"

"What do you say we relive that tonight, huh?"

"You're such a sleazebag. Oh, manwhore, and what else?"

"Dickhead, handsome jerk," 

"Okay, whatever you say, dickhead handsome jerk," you snickered sarcastically before dragging him towards the main area, making sure to not trip over your gown. 

The hotel was bustling with guests from all over the world, being the busiest it has been as staff ran around frantically. The night has yet to begin and people were already gambling their minds off while drinking expensive champagne served by frantic servers. 

You looked around, noticing Sam, or Elliot in actuality, conversing with someone, his brother was nowhere in sight … yet. 

"Distract him, okay?" You whispered hastily into Jay's ears as you saw the man waving over at you two, possibly coming over once he's done with the guy he's talking to. "I'll try to be within hindsight, but listen to me, if I'm not back by the two hour mark, you come to the office and find me. You have the gun, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Good. I'm going to try and get Sunghoon out, but I've only got so much,"

"I'll be there, okay? I won't leave you,"

You nodded at his words, feeling his hand squeeze your arm tightly. The anxiety was pushing past its limits and you were praying everything to run your way. The moment Sam moved over to you and Jay, you exchanged friendly greetings and pretended to be interested in whatever he's trying to yap about. As he did so, Jay slowly whisked him away, luring him for a talk over some drinks. One thing Jay's excellent at was talking, and you sure hoped his charms were enough to keep the little brother at bay.

After some more digging, you found out John, aka Elijah, mostly hung around the bar area and observed his customers. Interesting man. Lo and behold, the theories were right and he was actually there, all alone, an easy target.

"Not here to gamble?" You slid by his side casually, sitting in an empty seat just a fraction of a distance in between.

"I like to sit and observe a little," he hummed, taking a sip out of his glass. "And you are?"

"Stacy Williams,"

"I'm John Clerk,"

Ironic that you two were actually lying about yourselves to each other. 

"Owner of this place I believe?"

"It's true," he raised his glass up, quirking his eyebrows.

"Beautiful casino and hotel, by the way," you said sweetly, putting on your most convincing smile.

"Thank you," he bowed his head slightly. Not much of a conversationalist, huh? Maybe this was your time to strike. 

"Mr Clerk, I'm sorry but is there any way I can get a short rest around here? I'm feeling a little light headed and I just wish to lie down for a while,"

The man before you remained stoic, but you could tell he was internally scrambling for ideas in his mind, and you certainly didn't miss the way he gulped. To add extra pressure onto him, you started staring at him expectantly.

"Well—uhm—there's a sofa in my office," he suggested, though reluctantly.

"That'll be great if you don't mind, I'm sorry for the trouble,"

"No worries, Miss Williams," he assured. "I'll lead you there," he got off his seat and slowly took the lead, you following behind. As you gradually made your out of the vicinity, you spotted Jay, giving him a small nod before disappearing from his sight entirely.

He took the same path you and Jay had done during the time you two snuck around the demon brothers office, except this time, you would be entering into the office.

"Here you go, the sofa's all yours," he opened the door for you, leading you into his large office and pointed at the black coloured sofa in the corner. For a murderous, plotting demon, you didn't expect him or his interior to be so simple and minimal. "Would you like anything else?"

"A drink, maybe water or something refreshing will do,"

He nodded before closing the door shut, and you could tell he was worried about leaving you alone. Not because it's dangerous for you to be by yourself, but instead, he's paranoid about his typical demon doings and that dungeon.

Speaking of the dungeon, you had no idea where it was. Upon arriving, you checked for surveillance cameras, there were none thankfully, as for the dungeon you noticed nothing, even after squinting and looking around the room for some dodgy button. What a cunning demon! Time was ticking and you were racing against time.

"Wait…" you read about some theories about the whereabouts of the entrance to the dungeon, so now, you finally had the chance to test it out.

Locking the door and making up a quick lie was easy. But searching for some clues around the room wasn't. It got to a frustrating point of testing out the stupid theories where you ended up failing. There was one more for the test: the bookshelves.

Stories mentioned John being a complete book nerd, his belongings would be chucked in between books and somewhere behind the shelves, it would totally make sense the bookshelves in his office to have some hidden functions. You tried pushing it, punching it, but it wouldn't budge.

Sighing in almost defeat, you found yourself eyeing the books instead, judging the titles and spotting an odd one, reaching out for a grab. That was when everything changed. A small pull had triggered the book shelf to raise itself off of the ground and into the wall, revealing stairs going underground. Bingo.

You defied the laws of horror movies by going down the dark stairway, quietly calling out for any signs of life. Once you descended the remaining steps, you were met with dimly lit torches, chains hanging on the wall. This did look very anciently built, replicating those tacky dungeons in movies.

It was a large underground cave, so it wasn't hard to spot Sunghoon sitting in one corner, his hand chained to the wall and he himself had dozed off. 

You made your way there, your heels clicking against the hard floor but Sunghoon never woke from it. You kneeled beside him, noticing the fatigue in his expressions, looking overly worn out, attire soiled and seemingly hurt.

"Sunghoon!" You hissed, shaking him awake. There's no way you're attempting to carry him out while he's unconscious.

"Huh—what—who—" he slowly blinked, startled at the unfamiliar voice. His gaze was on you, his eyes blinking rapidly to rid of the haziness, then he finally registered that it was you talking. "Wait—Y/N?"

"You got that right. Is there a key around here?" 

"What are you doing here?"

"We have no time for that! Is there a key or not?" You hissed, trying to strain your ears in order to determine if he's returned or not. Hopefully the guests were keeping him busy in the meantime.

"There is, it's somewhere in the small cupboard there," he nodded over at said cupboard that you hadn't noticed. 

Say less, you practically jumped to your feet and bolted over to the small cupboard, pulled it open and the key was there. Tada! It was foolish that it was out in the open like that, but considering the fact they probably didn't expect anyone else to come down here, it was pretty valid.

Being the more thorough person you were, you checked the remaining drawers in case of any dangerous objects. Instead, you found some weapons here and there, so you tossed some over to Sunghoon before unlocking his chain. He winced the moment his wrist found freedom, rubbing it sorely. But there's not enough time, you need him out.

"Park, listen close to me," you tucked some of the knives into the garter belt around your thigh, handing Sunghoon one of the guns found in the drawer. "Your brother is here—"

"Jay?"

"Yes, now hush and actually listen, alright? The demon that captured you is coming back soon, and you're escaping before he does,"

"What about you?"

"I'll hold out as long as I can. Once you find Jay, tell him to come 'fetch' me or whatever excuse he could form. If shit goes sour, I don't think I can handle him alone,"

Sunghoon nodded as he took your words in carefully. There was limited time left, you needed to get out of the dungeon and shut it. 

You helped Sunghoon up and had him lean his weight into you as you guided him up the stairs. To say you were struggling and having breathing difficulties was an understatement. He better treat you to some good food for saving his ass after this.

He fell onto the sofa you were resting on earlier as you scrambled to shut the entrance by pushing the book back in. The entrance to the dungeon closed to a shut, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Now that you got Sunghoon out, there's bigger problems to face. 

"Are you able to walk?"

Sunghoon grunted, stretching and massaging his legs. "I can … I think,"

"You think?" His words weren't completely reassuring. 

"I'll manage," he gritted out, but his gaze softened. "I'm only worried about you,"

"You don't think I can handle him?"

"No, not that. You're an amazing hunter, of course, but this guy—demon—he's not some low ranking one. Not some simple exorcism can cast him back to hell,"

"I know, that's why Jay's got the gun,"

"He brought the colt along?"

The colt wasn't just a normal revolver, it was the supernatural revolver. Built to kill everything and anything. No supernatural beings were able to escape the wrath of the bullet. Who else better to use it on than some powerful demons?

"He's crazy," Sunghoon breathed out after you nodded as a response to his question. 

"He's just being careful. Plus, we do need it now anyway,"  

Sunghoon blinked, leaning back a little with an odd expression, his eyebrows furrowed. "Oh wow, did you guys…?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you have this look and I figured something … sparked between you and him again,"

You pressed your lips into a flat line, blinking wordlessly at him. Even he could tell you and Jay were having something?

"Let's talk about this later," you patted his shoulder, nodding towards the door. "You should definitely leave now,"

Knock knock.

"Miss Williams? Are you alright? Why is the door locked?"

You met Sunghoon's gaze, and the one thing you've managed to understand in his stare was 'we're fucked'. 

"I'm—I'm not doing well," 

"What's happened? Let me in,"

"No!" You bursted out, which sounded worse than expected. "I mean, no, I got m–my period, and I'm embarrassed to come out,"

"Oh," the man on the other side of the door seemed shocked to say the least. "I'll go get you some pads, Miss Williams,"

"Thank you,"

Pressing your ears onto the door, you heard his footsteps getting further away, finally able to let out the breath you've been holding in for too long. You turned to Sunghoon, grabbing his arm.

"You know, for a demon, he's actually quite a gentleman,"

"Keeping me in his stupid dusty dungeon surely isn't a gentleman's move," he said bitterly as he got up, limping slightly. "You'll be okay, right?"

"No promises,"

"I'll be quick, I'm going to get Jay here. You saved my ass, I'm making sure I save yours," he placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

"I trust you," you patted his hand. "Now, go,"

Sunghoon nodded, though quite reluctantly leaving as he didn't wish to have you all alone in a demon's threshold. You exchanged a brief look with him before he slipped out of the door completely, and you prayed he made it out successfully without any complications in between.

Minutes later, you heard knocks on the door once again, which meant John was back. Bracing yourself, you turned the door open, revealing him and some pads in his hands. "Here,"

"Thanks, I'll—uh—go to the restroom,"

"You're not actually on your period, are you?" His words cut like knives, sharp and certain.

"Are you doubting my knowledge of my own body?" 

"No, I'm not," he said flatly, shutting the door behind him and stepping closer. "One thing I know for sure is that you're not welcomed here … hunter," in one blink, his eyes turned black entirely, just like the time Jay was possessed.

"I'm only here for a shortstop, nothing else … Elijah," you kept your cool on the outside, but internally? You were fighting the horrors. He seemed surprised that you mentioned his actual name, but that didn't bother him.

"Oh yeah? Tell your buddies to stop coming after me,"

"How about you stop killing people?" 

Your retaliation didn't help your case as it only agitated him. With a  swift move of a hand, he had you pushed to the bookshelves, pinning you on there with an invisible force. No matter how you tried resisting it, you couldn't break free from the forceful hold.

"You won't understand. You humans don't," he seethed out, getting closer and closer. "You would be a great sacrifice as well,"

"Fuck you,"

Wrong choices of words. A force was wrapped around your throat and in the next second, it was constricting. Dying from getting choked by a demon wasn't on your list of dumb ways to die.

You swore you were seeing the lights of the afterlife until something intervened. Gunshots sounded suddenly, loud and clear and almost everywhere, a mix of shouts rang through. Chaos was happening. 

John, or Elijah, heard the commotion outside and was taken off guard from it, his hold loosening and you were able to breathe just a little bit more. His head turned back to you, then to the door, seemingly conflicted at the two troubles on hand. 

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "For fuck's sake," he released his hold on you, resulting in you dropping to the ground in coughing fits. You take it back about him being a gentleman. "You're so dead when I come back,"

You could only glare at him and his figure as he exited through the door, but then you heard the sound of a click. No, no, no. You rushed to the door, trying to yank it open, but to your worst fears, he actually locked the door.

Jay was coming to find you, right? Doubts continuously fill your mind against your will. It pained you knowing you're stuck here all helpless, unaware whether Jay and Sunghoon were doing well or not. You could only hope for the best and not the worst.

What seemed like forever was you being trapped in this office. The books on the shelves didn't entertain you, the pictures of the actual Sam only made you sad knowing his body was being possessed by a demon. All in all, you were rotting in here. 

That was until you heard grunts and some gunshots not far away, heavy footsteps thudding down the corridor. Shouts rang through the empty and quiet surroundings, your heart thrashing wildly against your chest in anxiety. There was no mistake in what you heard next. It was your name, your name was yelled.

"Y/N!" Jay's voice was hoarse as he called for you over and over. 

"Jay?" You pounded on the door, shaking the doorknob that wouldn't budge. 

The footsteps got closer and his voice got nearer until he was eventually standing directly on the other side of the door. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"I am," you nearly sobbed, wanting to break free and escape the office. "Jay, the door's locked,"

"You've got to be kidding me. I killed that fucker and never asked for the keys," Jay pounded at the door in irritation. "Y/N, step away, I'm going to break this fucking door down," 

You got away from the door, backing away to your previous spot at the bookshelves and crouching down. After a split second, you heard a gunshot, the doorknob rattled and loosened, but that didn't take the cake. Jay grunted, having to go for busting down the door instead.

A few kicks to the door had loosened the handles, you could hear Jay putting his whole effort into busting down the door with his kicks and the way he threw his body to the door. It was almost a while before he finally knocked the door down completely, revealing a overly worn out Jay. 

He was injured, cuts on his face, arm bleeding and his fancy suit torn at some places. Despite all that, his eyes lit up the moment they landed on your figure crouched by the bookshelves. He rushed over with speed that resembled the Flash, immediately dropping down to his knees to match your position.

"Are you alright? You're not hurt right?" His hands were on your shoulder, turning you slightly to check for any visible changes. 

You didn't say anything yet, just feeling glad that he's here now, safe and sound. Almost instinctively, your arms reached out and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly.

"I got you, I'm here now, nothing's going to hurt you," Jay caressed the back of your head, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. 

"I'm glad you're fine too," you slowly pulled away after a few moments, your hands cupping his cheek. "You do look really busted though,"

He scoffed, lips gradually stretched into a grin. "You'll be the one patching me up later,"

"What happened out there?"

"I killed them," he said hoarsely, his touch never leaving yours. "Little brother Elliot attacked me first after he revealed himself, then everyone ran away. I took my chance and blasted him. Sunghoon showed up not long after and that's when Elijah appeared. We managed to kill him, sent their souls back to hell,"

"That's great," 

"Did he … do anything out of line?"

"Other than choking me and saying he'll kill me? Not really," 

"He's a fucking bastard," Jay cursed, wincing slightly from the cut on his lips.

"Should we leave? The police is arriving soon, no?" You slowly got up, supporting Jay as well.

"We really should. I don't need the police on my ass again,"

"Hey guys—" Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, sweating and heaving, but once he saw the two of you together, hands around each other, his face morphed into a teasing smirk. "Am I interupting?"

You and Jay simultaneously let out a cough, facing away from one another.

"Are the polices on their way?"

"They are," Sunghoon replied hastily, ushering you two to come forward and leave the office. "I've cleaned our traces as much as I could. Now, we should just leave while people are hiding,"

"Did the bodies make it? The original Sam and John," you asked.

"No," the Park brothers answered in unison, and the three of you continued your way to the carpark in silence. It was saddening to hear that the bodies of Sam and John didn't make it, the dull atmosphere ended up befalling between you all.

"So," Jay started once you were all in the car, revving his car to a start. "Want some celebratory burgers along the way?"

"Say less."

"Ouch,"

After a long gruelling trip back to your house, Sunghoon ended up passing out in the guest room's bed, leaving you and Jay alone in the middle of your living room, where you were cleaning his injury wounds.

"I'm trying to be as gentle as I can," Your eyes flickered, wrapping his arm up and cleaning some tiny wounds. "Are you leaving after this? Go on your journey wherever supernatural cases appear like always?"

"I am," Jay said, and somewhere internally, you felt your soul crush. "But I'm staying a little longer here," 

"What?" Your mouth almost fell to the ground from the shock, unintentionally applying more pressure to the wound which made Jay wince, and you uttered a small apology, an unknowing smile forming on your lips. "You're serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You know how I said I wanted to have a talk after we got back, so here we are. I know our job is … complicated, but my feelings for you never changed over the years. It just took me a shit long time to come to my senses," Jay took a breath in. 

"I know I've hurt you before, and I'm going to have to gain your trust back first. But I hope you'll give me a chance, and let me bring you out on a date or two over these few days,"

"You're giving 'us' a shot?"

"I am,"

You were giddy to say the least, resisting the urge to break into the biggest, lovesick smile. "I'd really love to go out on that date with you,"

"Really?" Jay seemed like he couldn't believe you actually would agree, the evident shock in his face made you laugh.

"Yes, really, you idiot. Are you going to kiss me or something now?"

"I definitely am,"

Jay's calloused fingers wrapped around your chin softly, pulling you in and crashed his lips against yours. It wasn't your first time kissing him, but this was different. Desperation, endless pining that was bottled over the years finally burst and welled over, his lips moved against yours with so much fever and intensity, it had you going insane.

Jay pulled you into his lap, your arms falling over his shoulders for support while his hand travelled from your neck to your cheek before making its way into your hair. You could feel him smirking against your lips, his other hand moving down to your waist to tug you closer to his chest, having you totally pressed up against him.

"J–Jay," before he could take it to another level, you registered that it was your living room, and Sunghoon was in the house as well, which meant the possibility of him walking in was there. "Should we move it into … the room instead?"

Jay knew what you meant, his gaze changing almost instantly, something told you that you were in for it tonight. "Oh you're nasty," he suddenly carried you in bridal style, making you yelp out in surprise and scrambling for support.

The night was going to be long, but it didn't matter anymore now that you've got to have him for a few days and nights all to yourself. Killing supernatural beings was a headache, an ill fated string tied to you, but in the end, you couldn't deny it had brought you and Jay together again. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise after all.

taglist: @aerxz @asyleums @dimplewonie @yizhoutv

[magicalbuttertarts]

AEW Masterlist

Check Yes or No

Hook x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: none. Just some major fluff

Requested by anonymous. Hope you like it.

From my previous account plentyoffandoms.

WC: 482

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

WC: 1055

I am so nervous.

Why am I nervous?

I mean, we have been together for such a long time, and I knew I loved her before we even got together.

I felt a hand clasp my shoulder, making me jump a little, but I could tell by the chuckle, it was my Dad.

"You seem nervous, Tyler." He teased.

"What if she decides she doesn't want to be with me. That this has all been a huge mistake, and." I started to spew out the thoughts I have been having since I woke up this morning.

"Tyler, that girl loves you, and you love her. You have ever since the third grade."

The first memory I ever had of her came rushing back to me.

It was the first day of school, and they just combined the two elementary. I was running around on the playground with my friends, and I heard this laugh.

I turned my head, and it was like staring at an angel. I actually ran into the goalpost. I was knocked out for a few moments, and I woke up to her staring down at me, with a worried look on her face.

I fell in love, and I didn't even know it at the time.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and I pulled it out of the inside pocket of my jacket.

I saw that it was from her. "I love you, baby." Short and simple, and filled with so much emotion behind it.

This brought me back to when I first asked her out.

It was the first dance of grade 8, and for the first time, my friends and I were not going as a group, but asking people to do the dance.

Every single time I tried to ask her out, I would get tongue tied and turn around, walking so fast that she would be calling my name.

It was the day before the dance, and we were in history class.

I spent that class trying to come up with to ask her, but I knew I would just chicken out.

So I grabbed a spare piece of paper and wrote, 'Will you go to the dance with me? - Tyler.' With two boxes, one for yes, and one for no.

I folded it up and tossed it onto her desk. I held my breath as she opened it. She looked over her shoulder at me and then back at the note.

She grabbed her pen and did a checkmark, and folded it back up. She waited for our teacher to turn around, and she handed me the note.

I opened the note and couldn't stop the smile from my face as she checked yes.

That was the first of many dances for us.

We went through high school together. She was there for all my lacrosse and wrestling events, and I was there for her.

We voted the couple to most likely be married. We were voted Prom King and Queen.

We didn't go to the same college, but we talked every day and saw each other whenever we could.

Then, when I decided to become a wrestler, she was there, supporting me no matter what.

When I was having doubts about following my dream, and I was about to have my first wrestling match on TV, I was pacing back and forth in my hotel room.

I kept questioning all of this when she came up behind me, wrapping her arms around me, and I instantly calmed.

"You, Tyler Senerchia, are going to be wonderful. Everyone loves Hook and has been waiting for this moment."

I started to doubt myself once more. I turned around to face her. "No buts, Tyler. Everyone will be cheering for you and only you." I kissed her, putting all my heart into it.

And, of course, she was right. She always has been. She was and is still my number fan, and I am hers.

To travel with me, she started to write. She has a very popular travel blog, but with our wrestling friends and their favourite spots to shop and eat.

During one of those times, she was out for her research with Skye in Chicago, I picked up the antique engagement ring from my grandmother.

I was waiting for the right moment, but just like the 8th grade dance all over again, so I did what I did then.

I wrote her a note.

'Will you marry me?' and two boxes labelled yes or no.

Nothing over the top, and I knew this would be perfect for us.

I left the engagement ring box on the bed, and the note on top of it. I heard her call my name, as she walked into our room, me hiding in the bathroom.

She called my name, but she trailed off as she grabbed the note. I heard her gasp as she read it.

By this point, I was behind her on my knee, holding a bouquet of her favourite flowers.

I cleared my throat, and she turned around with the box and the note in her hands.

"Tyler,"

"Babygirl, I just need to know."

"Yes, a thousand times, yes."

I grabbed the box from her hand and opened it as quickly as possible to put the ring on her finger.

She cupped my face as I started to stand and kissed me.

We broke apart as we hugged on another.

"You didn't check a box."

"Tyler!" She said as she slapped my chest playfully.

I shook my head to clear it from all the memories I am having, and I looked at my friends and family as the music started.

Everyone stood and turned to look at my beautiful bride, stunned at how gorgeous she looked. This is my first time seeing her in her dress, and it all became too much.

I could feel tears start fall.

She gave me a concerned look, but I just mouthed I am okay.

She smiled at me and blew me a kiss.

"Her mother and I do."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Tyler."

"Now that we have that out of the way, let's get you two married."

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell

[kozumesphone]

02 ✦ pushing me further, pulling me closer, some sorta chemistry ? ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : hdjwjdjjs this part took a while to post even tho I had all the content ready, sorryyyy 😭🙏 also the fluff in this chapter is so cute, if I do say so myself hehe. look forward to the next chapter too (: ! plus, since this series is only a five-part fic, everything is much more fast paced than I wanted it to be. so i’ll probably end up writing bonus scenes for backstories or the aftermath of the ending (: anywayy, hope you enjoy mls ilysm <3 thanks for reading 🩶

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : oc (jae-won) to add some drama , oc (ae-ri) : y/n’s best friend at her school , fake dating , hyune and reader attend prep school , holding hands , swearing a little bit (‘bitch’) , name-calling (‘loser’) , mention of hyune meeting reader’s parents , unserious talks about marriage and blessings , best friend!hyunjin , non-idol au , high school au , f!reader , best friends who do more-than-best-friends things , fluff , smart!hyune x smart!reader , cutesy hand holding , banter ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 0.9k

DAY #02 . . .

the next day, hyunjin told me he was going on a trip with his family, so he wouldn’t come to prep school. I wondered if I should just attend my classes online since he won’t be there anyway.

I quickly texted him an hour before I left for prep school.

‘so, you aren’t coming today?’

he didn’t read my message even by the time I was leaving for prep school, so I just assumed he had no internet, wherever he was.

I decided to attend my classes offline since the other guys would be there too.

I walked to prep school with my earphones in, playing my ‘anti-romantic’ playlist, wondering how my imaginary boyfriend would walk with me everyday, if I had one.

about 10 minutes after the class settled down, hyunjin ran into class. he looked at me as soon as he entered, and I opened my mouth in a look of betrayal.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna come! I almost didn’t come today because of that!” I whisper-yelled at him, as he unzipped his bag, taking his seat beside me.

“‘course I came. I couldn’t miss seeing your pretty face, now, could I?” he smirked at me, and class continued.

our physics and biology lectures ended soon enough, and all of us walked down the stairs to the ground floor.

we stood outside the building, talking and laughing, like always, as we waited for each of our friends to get picked up by their parents, because they lived farther away.

felix, who lives closer that the others, split ways from us soon, as we began walking home.

hyunjin always drops me home before walking to his house, because he lives just a little farther than I do, and my house was on the way to his.

as we were walking to my house, one of the new kids from our school, jae-won, who my friends thought liked me, was also behind us. he lived in the same apartment as I did, and went to the same prep school too, just for different classes.

he was always kind of weird, though, and definitely did not understand the concept personal space whatsoever. and I did not like him at all. I told hyunjin the same thing, twice, before. he also thought jae-won was creepy.

“you know what we should do?” hyunjin whispered to me.

I had thought about it a few times before and wondered if I should really ask hyunjin the question i’d been meaning to.

“what if we… fake date… just in front of jae-won?” I asked.

“I was literally just thinking the exact same thing,” he grinned at me. I smiled in relief. “I have the practical experience, and you have so much of the theory experience, don’tcha?”

I gasped at his mention of my binge reading era of romance novels with the fake dating tropes. he truly did know me at my weirdest moments, huh.

something also itched in my brain at his mention of ‘practical experience’. I knew he had one bitchy girlfriend before, and I knew what they were up to, but still.

he suddenly held my hand, glancing over his shoulder to make sure jae-won was still watching, and started swinging our hands together. way too much.

“oi! you’re gonna break my ball and socket joint!” I yelled, as he swung our arms in circles.

“oh, smartypants! stop studying so much,” he complained at my use of ‘ball and socket joint’ instead of just ‘shoulder’.

“not my fault we just studied that, like, five minutes ago,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

jae-won caught up with us in a while, and hyunjin whispered to me, smiling, “he probably saw all that.”

I hope he did.

jae-won stepped into the elevator and waited for me.

“oh, she’ll come later, you can go. good night,” hyunjin smiled, and jae-won nodded quietly, letting the automatic door close.

as soon as the doors closed, we both burst out laughing.

the next elevator was taking too long to come down, so we decided to walk up eight floors to my house.

such a bad idea.

“I should never have stopped going for my athletics classes,” I whined.

“how are you already tired? we’re literally still at the 3rd floor!” he laughed.

“shut up!”

he pulled our hands together, lacing his fingers through mine. “you don’t even know how to hold hands,” he rolled his eyes.

“excuse me, I hold hands with ae-ri everyday,” I said. he rolled his eyes again, and continued talking as if I never spoke. loser.

“you know that prank? one day i’d propose to you, and you’d think it was a joke, but i’d be serious? and then you’d say ‘yes’ and we’d end up being legally married?” he said, laughing.

“oh my god! that’s literally the plot of a book I saw on instagram!” I said, and explained a book plot to him.

the whole time our fingers were interlaced, I almost forgot about it.

we reached the eighth floor, and I said, “you should come say hi to my mum. she hasn’t seen you in two weeks. it’s the weekend anyway, come on. you’ll need my parents’ blessings if you wanna get married to me anyway,” I smirked.

“oh, i’m coming, fine, but don’t worry. I know I already have their blessings,” he smirked back at me. I mumbled a ‘whatever’ and rang my door bell.

the next 20 minutes were spent in conversation between my parents and him about how studies were going, and slowly the topic of the conversation shifted to the latest movies being released.

I could get used to this sight forever, I thought.

prev < m.list > next

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[ragnarokhound]

hiii im working through all your jaytim week stuff bc i had to be in a wedding that week and i missed it 😭 i WILL leave an annoying amount of comments on ao3 but for now i just wanna say that i love the baseball au fic so bad. i don’t know a single thing about sports but i worked a summer job at the ballpark for a couple years and now whenever the weather gets hot i miss the vibes so bad and i CANNOT stop thinking about Them. do you have any more thoughts or rants or really just any crumbs from this au bc it’s delicious ty

AAHHH OMG I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE WEDDING and you have said the magic words because BOY DO I

I love baseball au!! I am actually very pleased with and proud of baseball au!! In my heart, baseball au has a massive rivals-to-lovers slow burn plot that I simply did not have the time to write OTL so instead for jaytim week, we got the scene that I would have reread over and over again if it had been a book I read in high school lmao

My notes this is a fucking outline how did that happen on baseball au:

Jason was the ace pitcher for the Gotham Knights for a few years running, taking over that mantle from Dick Grayson after he traded to the Bludhaven team. Jason was much more aggressive compared to Dick, and he was a two-way player - he could hit well enough to not need a designated hitter when it was his turn to go to bat, and that versatility made him unpredictable and a threat.

Unfortunately, after a big argument with Bruce about the game, he was hit with a hard injury during the playoffs one year. Everyone said it would be career ending. Bruce said to prepare himself for the worst. Jason takes a year off to recover and doesn't speak to Bruce the whole fucking time.

Enter Tim Drake.

Drake is a rookie, a nobody no one's ever heard of, but he's an excellent pitcher. He's got a million tricks and keeps a cool head. He can read the other team to filth and is ready to change tactics at the drop of a hat.

Word is that he bullied his way into the GM's office and demanded a tryout; Bruce was gonna throw him out. But then he saw him pitch. He was hired on the spot.

They started Drake as a relief pitcher, but it quickly became apparent that he was wasted there. He's switched to starter. They don't make it all the way to the Series that year, but it was pretty fucking close and in large part due to Drake. Not bad for a rookie.

Jason hates him on principle.

Apparently, Jason still has a spot on the team. But they've bumped him down from starter to relief. He knows it's necessary, that his injury still needs babying, but he's still not happy with Bruce. He hates it-- and the games he's relieving for Drake? He hates them most of all. He can't stand the guy.

(He's better than Jason.)

(And he won't quit staring.)

Drake doesn't actively antagonize Jason when training starts. Actually, for the most part, he tries to stay out of Jason's way, watching him quietly from the sidelines while Jason tests his frustrating new limits. But Jason's not about to let Bruce's new golden boy off that easy.

(He's almost surprised by the bite hiding behind those bangs. How fast those watching eyes can narrow in acidic consideration before he tears Jason a new one. He takes vicious satisfaction in seeing Drake sink down to Jason's level. And Drake needs a fucking haircut, but far be it from Jason to give this asshole tips.)

Their synergy is garbage in the first half of the season. Jason prides himself in his game, but when they're sharing the pitch, it throws everything out of whack. They butt heads over everything, and they get hyper competitive; half the time, they're not playing against the other team, they're playing against each other.

By the third game its plain they can't be paired together. Either Drake or Jason fuck up on the mound because one of them was doing something (For Jason, Drake's creepy, unblinking stare is enough to piss Jason off; for Drake, Jason's discovered he can get a rise out of him just by raising an eyebrow at the right time, as if to say really? That's what you're going with?) and the coaches (Babs) have just about had it with them.

They're switched to play on different days when possible, and given stern looks and reminders not to fuck up on the days they have to play together. It grinds Jason's gears, but he sucks it up because he's a fucking adult and his career is on the line. Maybe Drake can do the same.

Things start to change, though Jason can never quite remember when. Maybe they needed the space or whatever, maybe Jason needed to go drinking with Roy and just dump about Drake and Bruce and all of it and hear Roy's drunken two cents, maybe the game against Bludhaven meant seeing Dick and being forced to hear his two cents; maybe he needed to run into Drake at the coffeeshop a block away from the stadium one morning and see him bleary-eyed and clearly hungover. Maybe seeing him outside of the job, his gaze wandering out the window and not fixed on Jason for once, willing to shit-talk Bruce (and to a lesser degree, Dick), shifted something in Jason's brain a little to the left. Maybe it made Drake into a different person, and maybe Tim is someone Jason doesn't actually know that much about. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

They start to improve. They have to play more games together when one of their alts wrecks his ankle, but Jason is still pretty fresh compared to everyone else after being babied all season, and his injury hardly bothers him these days. Tim still flusters Jason at the mound sometimes, but it's not for the same reason. He doesn't know what the reason is yet, but he knows it's not the same. The prickle on the back of his neck that says Tim is watching isn't a precursor to anger, or spite. It's something else.

(And so what if Jason finds himself sticking around after practice days? So what if Tim catches him once, working on his swing, and he offers to pitch for him? So what if Jason suddenly knows he wants to find out how that crooked smile tastes, and threatens to break his bat on it instead? So what if Tim laughs at him like he was joking, because they joke now, and it makes Jason's stomach churn, makes him sick with wanting? So fucking what?)

Bruce even talks to him after a game, all fatherly concern and judgment, wanting to know if it's going to be a problem for him and Tim to be playing together. If he can trust Jason not to jeopardize the game over personal disagreements. Jason doesn't know how to explain it to him and he also doesn't fucking want to. He tells him no, it won't be a fucking problem.

It freaks him out. He backslides, hard. Tim had been warming up to him, but he's obviously surprised about getting the cold shoulder. Surprised and pissed.

He corners Jason in the locker room after a game Jason nearly lost them, a loss that would have shut them out of the Series this year for good. Jason's been closing every game he plays, but Tim had to be sent back in to clean up after his piss-poor showing. He lays into Jason. He reads him to filth. He correctly diagnoses the source of Jason's insecurities and his beef with Bruce that's older than basically any of his other problems, and basically tells him to quit yanking the team-- and Tim-- around. He storms out with the last word, and Jason fumes with his head in his hands.

(Apparently, Tim looked up to Jason, once upon a time. Apparently, Tim was a fan before he was a colleague, a rival; a friend. Apparently he'd been nervous but excited at first to meet Jason in person, to get to talk to one of his heroes. Jason feels like a heel.)

They don't talk after that except to play the game. Tim is professionally distant, doesn't stare at Jason the way he used to, the way he was starting to. The roles reverse-- one week later, he's the one who stares at Tim, watches him take the mound during the game that will decide their fate, decide if they'll go to the Series this year or not, with an awful, burning need bubbling in his chest for Tim to look back at him just once.

When Jason takes the mound for him, Tim glances at him. It's brief, but he nods at Jason, a dare in his eyes that Jason wants to take. It loosens his lungs and lets him breathe for the rest of the game. He plays the best he has all season. And Jason knows the reason.

They win the Series. Bruce offers to put Jason back as a starter next year, but Jason declines and does one more year as a relief pitcher. He's done taking stupid risks with his body, with his career, and he knows if he goes back now he risks a flare up. If he's gonna show Tim up, he's gotta give himself his best chance.

Cue the fic. (They absolutely fuck in the dugout btw. Tim asks with his hands already on Jason's skin-- "Can I touch you?" Tim asks with his mouth already on Jason-- "Can I--")

So i hit the character limit but TAH DAH thats bb au <3

[v3nusxsky]

Can I request a Larissa weems x genderfluid reader.

R is also a shape shifter and ends up screwing Larissa on one of their masc days however neither of them realise that r can get Larissa pregnant. So a couple months later when Larissa starts getting morning sickness it leads to an oh shit moment between the two and they both start freaking out about knowing nothing about kids. Marilyn finds them freaking out and reminds them that their both idiots cause they've dedicated their lives to teaching/guiding outcast children and have been acting parents to them for years.

Hey my dear anon! I tried my best with this please let me know if something doesn’t fit the gn r role. It’s my first time writing for that and I don’t have much experience but I’m hoping my research has helped some.

Could we be mothers

*Authors note~ this is my first attempt at a fic like this so please let me know if there's anyways I could improve for the future also would like to dedicate this to my favourite couple who helped me to accept myself. for who I am and wish their newborn daughter E.R.H on the 5•03•23! A very happy welcome to the world little one <3 she’s absolutely gorgeous and a sign that anyone can be a parent as long as they have love and care in their hearts*

Trigger warnings~ pregnancy wlw pregnancy ?mentions of smutt

Prompt~ see the ask^^

۵  ۵  ۵  ۵ ۵  ۵  ۵  ۵ ۵  ۵  ۵  ۵ ۵  ۵  ۵  ۵ ۵  ۵  ۵  ۵ ۵  ۵  ۵  ۵

Gender always seemed like a funny concept to you. One you had battled with for so many years. Yet not only did you have to battle with accepting yourself, you had to battle with the acceptance of others. Ultimately that was the worst part. Knowing not everyone would accept you for yourself was ultimately heartbreaking. You spent years being misgendered and called some of the most hateful names by some of the people who were meant to love and care for you the most.

That's why when you met the goddess of a women that was Larissa Weems, you felt as if the lords above had blessed you with your very own angel. Someone to love, hold and cherish you for who you truly were. Larissa will always be a dream come true for you. She loved you like no other ever had. You were learning what you should've learned years ago, what love actually felt like. Your ability and your gender were just two of the reasons you had been through hell and back. The fact that Larissa was also a shape shifter took that fear away. Then she was the most accepting over your gender, even helping you pick out some more masculine looking clothes for the days you didn't feel comfortable in your body.

Your relationship with Larissa is quite simply amazing, in every single aspect, the fact you could shift parts of your body made certain aspects of the relationship so much more interesting. It allows you to feel everything just as a typical cis man would. That made it even more special knowing you were both able to enjoy the act. Plus you didn't have to worry about pregnancy. That's a win win right? Well that's what you thought.

Larissa had called you into the bathroom sounding absolutely terrified, instantly you were up and racing to join her. She had curled herself up into a ball against the wall, head resting on her knees as she sobbed quietly. Something was wrong. "Ris?" You murmured taking in the scene in front of you. All she did was hand you a little white test. A test? You glanced down at the test, it had two blue lines. Immediately your brain recognised what was happening. But it can't? Surly? How could this happen? I mean you knew how but how exactly.

You made your way to gather Larissa in your arms, externally seeming calm and collected but internally you were freaking out. Could you be a parent? A mom? Or dad? What would you even prefer to be? Larissa would be a stunning mother, you knew that. You saw how she doted on the students, loving and supporting them every day. But you? How could you be a good parent when you had no experience in the matter. Your own childhood wasn't a great one, could you be any different?

What did a baby even need? Would you hold it correctly? What if it was a boy? How would you explain things typically a father would? Neither of you had any experience with babies. Both having your own set of challenges, yet this child would be yours and Larissa's. They would be absolutely stunning you knew that. There was no doubt they would be the most perfect baby to ever exist and oh so loved. But sometimes loving someone means letting them go. If you didn't feel like you could be a good parent then why would you subject an innocent child to an inadequate parent?

Little did you know Larissa was having similar thoughts and the thoughts of guilt. Would you stay with her? Would you be mad? Would you blame her? Or worse would you think she had cheated? Obviously you would never assume that, you knew how much she loves you. You lost count of how long you sat together, holding each other and reassuring the other that you weren't mad or leaving.

Marilyn had been searching for Larissa, school related issue, yet she seemed to come up empty handed so made her way to your private quarters. Neither of you had heard her entrance to the room and she didn't call out, absolutely stuck in your own world. It was a gasp that drew your attention, Marilyn stood with a big smile, spotting the little white test. You glanced between her and Larissa and shook your head in a silent cue. Marilyn understood instantly that you were both doubting yourself and abilities. She instantly began showering you with praises and kind words. Truly she knew you both would be amazing parents to this little one.

"Y/n, Larissa, this baby will be so loved you don't have to worry, I see you both with the students here. You love, support and cherish them. Many of the students view you as chosen family. And I know that because they have told me. In fact a few have even slipped calling you mum or dad when referring to you. And having a little one of your own, both of you, will be the most precious gift. So how about we stand up wipe our tears so I can congratulate two of the most amazing friends I have." Her tone leaving no room for argument and you couldn't help but laugh pulling Larissa to her feet gently. You both really were being silly, of course you would be amazing parents and this baby would be so very loved. You would stand by Larissa every day and raise your baby together in a home, well school, filled with love.

Word count ~ 1129

[riddle-me-ri]

HELLO RI!! FIRST OF ALL! dear congratulations on your 500, you really deserve it! Your writing is beautiful and the way you create the scenarios is unique! I LOVE READING EVERYTHING RELATED TO RIDDLER AND MAD HATTER especially secret six (thanks for the snack) about the event I would like to ask drabble about sharing a shower with the only one who does bathe from the riddler arkhamverse, with the one from origins, even if he also does It seems more comfortable for you to write (as well as it would also be something fun) it could be knight, the one that is most comfortable for you

I love you so much!, keep it up and you will go far, hugs and kisses <3 PS: if you don't understand what I wrote, it's because English is not my first language and I'm using a translator :')

A/N: Awww, thank you so much! And no worries, everything translated decently. I understand what you’re saying. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really do appreciate it, I’m glad you enjoy my writing so much! So, I got this request before the Arkham Knight Riddler taking a shower, but I got that one done first, but now he’s Arkham Origins lmao. I hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 494

Arkham Origins Riddler - Sharing a Shower

The sound of running water slowly stirred you from your slumber. You sat up in bed and saw the bathroom door in your bedroom slightly ajar. 

“Eddie?” You knocked on the bathroom door to alert him of your presence. 

You could hear him gasp over the water. “I-I thought you were in bed.” 

“I was, the water woke me up.” You yawned. 

“Sorry, I’ll be there in a moment.” He reassured. 

A beat of silence. 

Edward assumed you went back to bed and he continued to rinse his hair out. 

Little did he know, you were actually taking off your night clothes. 

You gently pulled back the shower curtain. Ed jumbled slightly at seeing you. 

“I thought you left.” 

You giggled, shaking your head. “Nope. Have room for one more?” You smirked. 

Edward gulped but took a step back from under the shower head. 

You could feel Ed’s eyes staring into you as you leaned your head under the shower to dampen your hair. 

When you straightened your head and looked up at him. Edward had a look of absolute awe on his face. 

You giggled. “See something you like?” 

All Edward could do was nod, as a sly side smile grew on his face. 

You brought your arms up and pulled himself closer to you. You both were under the shower when you pulled him in for a kiss. 

His hands went around your waist as he happily returned your kiss. 

You pulled away to look back up at him. You smiled at his dorky smile. 

“So, you gonna wash my back first? Or should i wash yours?” 

“I mean, I did have to work late because of a bunch of incompetent co-workers.” Ed mentioned. 

“Aw, you have to do all the work?” 

“Of course I did!” He exclaimed. 

You sighed. “Well then,” you dropped your arms and went to grab the liquid body wash. 

You squeezed some of teh soap onto your hands and began lathering it in you palms and in between your fingers. 

When you turned back around to fface Edward you pushed him back slightly so the suds wouldn’t rinse off immediately. 

You started by placing your hands on his cheels, before slowly gliding your hands down to his chest. 

Edward instantly relaxed to your touch. Reveling in how good it felt to be appreciated, especially someone as special as you. 

You lifted your hands up and circled your index finger in the air. 

Edward obediently turned around as you continued your cleansing caresses throughout his body. 

Suddenly, Edward jumped again. 

“W-What was that for?” 

You laughed out loud as his reaction. 

The moment you glanced down at his bare butt. The temptation was too strong. It was just daring you to spank it

“I-I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist!” You explained in between laughing fits. 

“Okay, okay, now it’s your turn!” 

You two got to bed super late, but it was worth it for the fun shower time together.

[know-the-way]

Hellooo! 21 for Phrack from the prompt list, please 🥰

This got a little bit hurt/comfort-y and a hella bit dramatic. Sorry friend, that’s kinda my brand 🌝, but it’s got ~*vulnerability*~ which I know is your brand, so I hope you like it!

(Someone sent a similar prompt when I’d already started writing this, so this is part 1 of 2.)

tw: references to war

A kiss… on a place of insecurity.

Laying on his back, his arms are tucked under his head, a wide grin on his face as he watches her above him. Phryne’s straddled over his hips, dressed only in one of her silk robes. It’s untied at the front to give him an enticing view of what’s beneath, a half-eaten piece of toast dangling in her hand as she enthusiastically gestures through the recounting of a recent social commitment. The light pouring in from the window is catching on her skin, illuminating her features, and he can’t help but think to himself that she is the most beautiful, precious thing in the world… and how on Earth did he get so lucky?

Apparently, he’s gazing just a little too sweetly because on her next bite of toast, she narrows her eyes suspiciously. “You’re in far too agreeable a mood, inspector… what’s going on in that head of yours?” she emphasizes the question with a light poke to his bare belly.

He jolts slightly at the touch, but continues to stare up at her fondly, “Just enjoying the view, I guess.”

A smirk slowly spreads on her face, her brow still furrowed skeptically, but she must think the comment earns him a bite of toast because she lifts her arm to hold it just above his mouth. He accepts it gratefully and she reaches for the cup of tea she’s set on the bedside table. “I think I rather like you working nights, if it means I get to have you like this over breakfast.”

A low chuckle gets muffled within his mouthful of toast, but he grabs the tea from her hand and takes a sip to help it down. “You know,” he says, handing the cup back to her, “We might enjoy more breakfasts together if you accepted that what you call mornings is what the majority of the world calls afternoons.”

She taps his side admonishingly with a tsk, “Well now, don’t go and ruin it. My body’s acclimated to a certain routine and you don’t seem to mind as much when it means I’m awake to meet you at a 2AM crime scene.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, lowering them to push himself up and sit back against the pillows, and then casually rests them atop her thighs. “You’re right, as usual, Miss Fisher,” he smiles, letting his thumbs idly stroke her skin under the silk of her robe.

She sets her tea aside and leans in to kiss him quickly, “I’m glad you’ve learned to admit it, Inspector Robinson,” and they mirror a playful grin to each other. Resting her head against his shoulder, his hands move to stroke the curve of her back and they take a few moments just to breathe each other in.

So entranced in how utterly at peace he feels, he doesn’t realize at first that her index finger is sliding repeatedly at a spot just under his jaw. She’s making barely audible noises of fascination and he turns to look down at her from the corner of his eye. “Darling… ?”

“I’ve never noticed this on you before,” she says distractedly, her finger still idly stroking the spot.

“Noticed what?”

“This little scar here… “ she lightly taps the feature she means twice for emphasis and he immediately knows what she’s found. It’s been there for roughly 20 years - a small indention of a mark where the edge of his jaw meets his neck, and it’s not that he takes issue with its appearance (it can barely been seen after all), but rather its source. As such, he really doesn’t want to answer the question that is surely going to follow. “How did you get it?”

Right, yes. That question.

“Uh… “ he huffs out in discomfort and she pulls back to look at his face with soft concern. “It’s not a story worth telling.”

“Oh,” she says quietly, leaning back a little more so that she can trace the large slash of a scar under his right ribcage and then looks at him, questioning, trying to confirm her well-meaning suspicion. That scar came from his time in the war and he had obliged telling her the story some time ago. He had been trying to pull one of his men to safety, enemy air artillery fast-approaching, and at the last few feet back to the trench - the first shots fired. Panicked, Jack pushed the lad in and made a leap for it himself just after. He made it - they both did - but not before snagging his side on the barbed-wire barrier on the way down. He got 47 sutures in total, a commendation from his commanding officer, and a memory - among several others - that turned to a nightmare lasting years after he arrived home.

“Not from that,” he assures her, though her fingers continue to slide over it in understanding all the same. “It just… where it’s from… let’s just say… it’s wasn’t one of my finest moments,” he stammers out and he realizes that explanation will have the exact opposite effect of dissuading her from coaxing an answer out of him.

Sure enough, a certain sparkle forms in her eye as her finger draws a lazy line up to his chest. He sighs audibly. “You’re not going to leave this alone, are you?”

“I should think not,” she responds honestly, “Of course, you don’t have to share anything with me that you don’t feel comfortable sharing… “ her voice reaching the same pitch as when she tells a half-truth, then adding “But I will wonder still, yes… Possibly forever.”

He lets out a noise that’s part exasperation, part laugh, running a hand over his face, and then looking down at her. “Alright fine,” he relents, “But you don’t get it for free!”

Her smile turns sultry and he really hates being confronted with just how much he’s wrapped around her finger, “What will it cost me, then?”

Jack shrugs, “I’ve always been a man who deals in fair trade.”

She perks up at that, a cheeky sort of glint in her eyes, and her hand moves to grasp the sash of her robe, spinning it suggestively, “So an ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ scenario?”

He barks out an incredulous laugh, ready to dismiss the suggestion, but then he pauses as he realizes she’s technically correct. Nodding his head affirmatively, he states plainly, “Actually… Yes.”

“Alright!” she says brightly (a little too brightly, if he’s honest). “I agree to the terms!”

He exhales slowly, cursing himself for folding so easily. “Excellent,” a half-grumble as he shifts them both so that he’s sat up straight, “One other thing, though: you cannot laugh.”

Her mouth opens in protest, but she thinks better of it and nods, “Alright.” He gives her a sharp, distrusting look and she rolls her eyes, “I promise!”

Satisfied enough, he takes a moment to gather his thoughts and reluctantly begins: “It was during my time in the academy. Keep in mind, I was 18 and a brand new recruit, so I hadn’t yet developed the sharpest of minds.”

“Yes dear, I’ve met Hugh, I get the gist,” she prods teasingly and when his response is an admonishing glance, she glides her hand up to card gently through his hair in atonement.

“Eventually, the time came for our firearm training,” he continues, trying to hide how very nice her fingers brushing through his hair feels, “They’d place these cloth targets over barrels of hay for us to aim. Well, I took to it rather quickly, which some of my classmates from regional Victoria didn’t appreciate as much as our instructor.”

She hums in sudden understanding, “I take it they were put out that the city boy, with no experience, showed them up after they’d grown up on their grandfather’s rifles out in the country?”

He nods, “Put out enough to sabotage my exam.”

“Oh, cowards,” she huffs, now stroking his cheek with the back of her hand.

“Unbeknownst to me, they’d gone out to the shooting field at sunrise and placed a solid aluminum plate behind the cloth I usually favored. A gamble in retrospect, but at the time it felt strikingly clever.”

“I’m sure,” she sympathizes, “So I take it this scar was the result of a shattered bullet? Blowback off the metal plate? … Rather awful of them, really - they could’ve killed someone.”

He pauses, eyes widening a little, nodding slowly as if trying to find the words. “Well… “ he sighs, “Not… exactly.”

She looks back at him in expectant confusion and he very much doesn’t want to continue. But they’re too close to the destination to turn back now.

“The bullet did shatter,” he confirms, avoiding her direct gaze in any way possible, “and… and ricocheted in… every direction… including upwards.”

“I’m not following, Jack, but please continue,” he can hear in her voice that she’s enjoying every second of this and is awaiting the expected punchline they both know he’s hurtling towards.

Pressing his lips together briefly, eyes fully staring at the ceiling, he grimaces, “It just so happened… that a grey goshawk was flying over at the same time I took my shot.”

“Oh… Oh dear.” Her hand has quickly moved to cover her mouth in what he can only assume is an attempt to keep her promise of not laughing. He knew that was a futile request at the start, but he appreciates that she’s trying nonetheless.

“A piece of the bullet pierced its wing and it… it came tumbling down directly atop my head,” he says with as much dignity as possible, even though he can feel her body shaking with suppressed giggles. “As one could imagine, it was a collision that startled us both and - in addition to creatively slicing my face with its talons,” a few wayward laughs get muffled against her hand, “ - it took a souvenir chunk of my throat in its beak along with it.”

Finally, he dares to look down at her properly, casting an unimpressed scowl at how red her face has become with the effort of restraining herself. “Something amusing, Miss Fisher?”

She shakes her head ‘no’ furiously, but it takes her several more moments to reign herself in. Eventually she does, releasing her hand from her mouth with a deep, cleansing breath. “No, Inspector, nothing amusing,” though the strain in her voice says otherwise. “How… “ another pointedly deep breath “How awful.”

“Yes. It was.” He’s still utterly straight-faced, but he knows the next revelation will be her tipping point. “Two days in the infirmary and 5 months of a stupid nickname that clung like lint on wool.”

The look on her face is already betraying her, but she dares to ask anyway, “A nickname! …Which was?”

“… Bullseye Robinson.”

With that, she’s gone, full-force belly laughs rising from her throat and filling the entire room. Her head falls to his chest as she clings to his shoulders, indulging herself in the amusement for a good couple of minutes. When she finally looks up, his face is cold as stone and she almost - almost - looks apologetic.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Miss Fisher,” he deadpans, trying to sound as genuinely offended as possible, and attempts to nudge her off and stand up.

“Aw no, Jack don’t go! I’m sorry,” she hugs her arms around his neck, peppering kisses across his jaw, her voice filled with mirth as she coos to him, “I’m sorry, darling… I didn’t mean to. Here, let me kiss it better… “

He waits to feel her lips on the spot, pressing there warm and gentle… and then takes his revenge by swiftly flipping her on her back and ruthlessly tickling her sides. The screech she lets out is loud enough to alert the entire neighborhood, though it does nothing to appeal to his mercy, “Ja-ACK! JACK ROBINSON! Stop it right now! Not fair! JACK!”

A sudden light rapping at the door makes them both freeze, and the voice of the always-unrattled Mr. Butler calls politely through door, “Miss, is everything alright? Dorothy came to me with some concern about the sound of… screaming?”

The glance they share is as if they’re school children who’ve just been told to hush and Jack is thoroughly mortified. Phryne, unsurprisingly, is entirely unbothered, answering after a few church giggles to herself, “Quite alright, Mr. Butler, thank you. Apologies to you and Dot for the noise.”

“No trouble at all, Miss. Shall I prepare and bring up a lunch tray for you and the inspector?”

“No, we’re fine for now, thank you, Mr. B!” she says brightly and Jack comes to enough of his senses to hastily echo the sentiment; the least he can do for the trouble he’s put the man through, “YesthankyouMr.Butler.”

“Very good, Sir. Miss.” And the sound of his retreating footsteps is a relief to both Jack’s conscience and ears.

“Remind me to apologize to Mrs. Collins at a later date,” he sighs.

She snickers in response, reaching a hand back up into his hair to stroke it fondly, “Darling, I’m rather certain Dot would prefer to pretend it never happened as much as you would.”

He lets out a slow exhale, once again accepting that she’s right, and leans into her touch, “You broke your promise, you know.”

“I did,” she says softly, a slight pout on her lips and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I’m sorry. Can I still kiss it better?”

Jack pretends to consider it, resting on his forearms above her, “I suppose.”

She smiles warmly then, tilting his head to the side and leaning up to kiss the little scar that caused this mess.

“Should’ve told you I nicked it shaving,” he whispers and she simpers into his skin. “You’re the first person I’ve ever told that story.”

“Really?” she asks curiously, placing one more kiss for good measure and then pulling back. “Why?”

“Well,” he moves to lay next to her on his side, supporting his head on his elbow, his free hand reaching out to softly stroke between her bare breasts. “I’m somewhat ashamed of it.”

“Jack,” she says tenderly, cupping his cheek, “It was a silly, awful prank. And that nickname, quite honestly, was terribly uncreative.”

He breathes out a laugh, turning to kiss the inner part of her wrist, and a sudden sadness fills his eyes, “No, it’s not that.” She turns on her own side now to her face him as he continues. “All those men at the academy with me… we were shipped off to war having barely started as constables. It was strange… We’d always meant to serve side-by-side, but not as soldiers on the front lines of a conflict we never asked for.”

She’s quiet in the way she always is when she knows he needs someone to listen. In the way all those who were there know to be for each other. The support is there in the silence; in the space given for one to safely face their shadows.

“Many of them I never saw again. And those I did… those who survived… a fair few made it through the strikes. I was one of only three, actually.”

She rests her hand lightly on his wrist; a reminder that she’s still here, and so is he.

“The day of that prank, I was… so angry,” he shook his head as if trying to deny his own truth, “For the rest of our training, I spent every day fueled by vengeance, vowing that I’d get even in my own way. I’d surpass them, beat them at every exercise, ace every exam, and pummel them all like competition instead of comrades,” he hangs his head a moment, smiles sadly, “Graduated top of my class.”

“Of course you did,” she murmurs affectionately, sliding her hand up to lace her fingers with his. He’s not done, she knows he’s not - it’s likely she even knows where he’s heading with all this, and he knows the last thing she’ll do is let him think he’s going there alone.

“Thomas Lodge, one of the ring leaders… he came home from the war missing a leg… “ hot tears are building behind his eyes, the bitter taste of guilt seizing his throat, though he’s fighting like hell to swallow it down, “I spent months enraged over a mere speck of flesh that healed over within days and this man lost an entire leg.”

“But that wasn’t your fault, darling,” she reminds him gently, tucking herself in closer to him so that they’re nearly nose-to-nose.

“No… “ he nods, flashing her a thankful glance before casting his eyes back down, “Doesn’t make it fair, though. So many men either came home maimed or not at all… I came back whole and still managed to ruin the life waiting for me. I didn’t just fail my marriage, my family, myself… I failed the memory of all those men who never even got the same chance I did.”

One angry tear springs from the corner of his eye and he takes several deep breaths to stave off the others threatening to fall. Her hand is warm and soft on his cheek, her thumb catching the tear and wiping it away. He can’t look at her yet; he hadn’t meant to go down this dark of a path and the shame that has already been piling up is scolding him for bringing her to this point with him. “I’m sorry, I… “ he shakes his head, “I’m sorry.“

“Jack… “ her voice is the most gentle he’s ever heard it, “You never have to apologize to me for sharing things like this. I’d much rather you did that than keep it locked inside and make yourself believe you failed. You didn’t, darling, you didn’t at all.”

He sniffles, keeps his eyes down; brings his hand up to rest over hers against his cheek. “You came home with the weight of war on your shoulders. The horrors you had to survive… the fact you’re here is honor enough to those men and what you all went through. And you’ve spent every day since doing your best to make this piece of the world a safer place; caring so deeply for everyone around you that you forget to care for yourself.”

His heart is bursting and breaking all at once and suddenly he lets out a quiet, sorrowed laugh. “That last bit sounds like someone I know,” he murmurs, his eyes finally looking up. Hers are full of fondness, sympathy, and grief with a smile to match.

“This someone you know… “ she says softly, kindly, “Would you call them a failure?”

He smiles back, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing her palm, “Never.”

“And neither are you,” her voice steady and earnest, willing him to believe her with a nod of her head he can’t help but to mirror, “You are by far the most remarkable person I’ve ever known, Jack Robinson, don’t you ever forget it.” She kisses him, quick and warm, and he feels lighter than he can ever remember.

“Last bit sounds like someone I know,” he repeats playfully and the mischievous glint he so loves returns to her eyes.

“Well,” she leans in to kiss him again, “I hope you’re grateful for their presence.”

“Every day, Miss Fisher. Every day.”

[mxnkeydo]

love, mom ✧ percy jackson oneshot

✧ summary when sally jackson passes away while helping him on a quest, percy begins to feel more alone than he's ever been, grieving in solitude. upon poseidon's delivery, though, percy finally allows himself to unleash his bundled emotions.

✧ genre angst, sadness

✧ word count 1.36k

✧ warnings a lot of sad, angsty, and depressed thoughts.

✧ link to main masterlist

✧ A/N writing this literally broke me to pieces, i hope ya'll enjoy this oneshot. happy birthday percy! (also pls reblog it would mean the world to me!!!)

***

The beach was calm and serene as Percy waded into the water with his jeans rolled up to his knees. Normally, he’d have brought Annabeth too, but right now he needed to be alone, he needed silence. Mourning his mother wasn’t something he could do with other people around. 

The thing was, no one would know her love the way he did. How she would drop everything in her arms, simply to give him a bear hug every time he came home from boarding school. How she would stuff blue candy into his stocking for Christmas every year without fail. How she had endured the physical and emotional abuse from his former stepfather for years, just to keep him safe. The list was endless, and the mere thought brought tears to Percy’s eyes. She had done so much for him, but when he had the chance to return the favor, he had failed. He would never be at peace with the fact that he had saved the world - twice - but he hadn’t been able to save his mother. He would give anything just to see that million dollar smile again.

But she was gone. Percy could sit at that maple tree all he wanted but it wouldn’t be the same. Because Sally Jackson would be six feet under.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Percy whispered into the salty summer breeze, choking on the words. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

The ocean’s surface glittered under the fading daylight, like the stars had fallen from the night sky. The sky was clear of any clouds, glowing with a cerulean hue. The water’s constant ‘shhh’ used to be like a soothing lullaby, but now it just made him more restless than ever. Percy didn’t understand how the world could be so beautiful when his mother, the most badass, the funniest, the kindest woman to ever exist, was dead.

That ‘shh’ grew louder and louder until it filled his head. A gentle wave splashed against his legs and receded back into the depths of the waters. Percy looked down, and with furrowed brows, picked up the letter floating at his feet. 

As he turned it over in his hands, the envelope dried off so the sentence on the back was legible:

To Percy, my entire world, my everything.

Without a doubt, the letter was sent from his father, Poseidon, god of the sea. But the words were in his mother’s handwriting. His hands wavered as he tore the envelope open, revealing the coffee-colored paper inside.  He wasn’t exactly sure if he was mentally prepared to read it, but with a deep breath, he unfolded the paper:

My dearest Percy,

I pray that this letter never reaches your hands, that your father will destroy it after your successfully completed mission. I’m hoping you’ll never have to read this letter, because I’ll most likely be dead.

But if you are reading this, Percy, know that I was the proudest mother to ever live. Ever since the moment I held you in my arms, I have been more proud than you’ve ever known. Percy, you have done many great things in such a short lifetime; you’ve gone through two great wars, you’ve survived through the darkest of times, and you have fought for everyone you love. I am not only proud to call you my son, but in awe that you have accomplished so much.

It was like his mother was right next to him, whispering into his ear as she held him close. Percy didn’t even notice he was crying until his teardrops splattered onto the letter. He didn’t bother to wipe them away and kept reading:

Percy, I know you; I am your mother, after all. I know you’re probably beating yourself up about my death. You know I’m right.

Percy couldn’t help but let out a choked laugh; it was true, Sally knew him too well and they both knew it.

Please remember that I am the one that insisted on helping you, even when you protested against it. If there’s anyone to blame for my demise, it is me. You have done nothing wrong. 

And there it was. That was the sentence that had Percy sobbing horrible, choppy, heartbroken sobs. That was the sentence that broke him entirely. He gripped the letter like it was life or death, his hands shaking more violently than ever. His eyes were so blurry from the wall of unshed tears that he could barely read.

You have done nothing wrong.

No one knew better than Percy how refreshing it was to hear those five words after years of thinking he screwed up. Not once in his life had anyone said those words to him. Not until now.

You have done nothing wrong.

Percy gulped and moved on to the next paragraph:

Percy, I don’t want you to cry. Wipe away your tears. When you think of me, I want you to remember all the good times we spent together. Remember how we went on an entirely blue diet just to spite Gabe? How, every summer, we’d go down to Montauk and talk all night in that cabin? When you think of me, I want you to smile, not cry. I hate seeing you cry. It’s the worst feeling for a mother, you know that?

What’s worse is losing the most important person in your life, he thought desolately. Still, he wiped away the hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

Percy, listen to me. I want you to live your life to its fullest. Go to college with Annabeth, make new friends, get married, have kids. There is a reason I named you Perseus. He was the only hero to get a happy ending. I wish the very same for you.

Take care of your sister for me, Percy. Sometimes, I used to watch you play with her, rock her to sleep in your arms while you sang a little lullaby. I know you will be the best big brother ever to her. The way she looks at you, like you’re her hero – it warms my heart. Be good to Paul, too. Don’t let him get too hung up over my passing. Tell him to move on. And you move on too, Percy. Do not be angry with the gods for not preventing my death. Do not be angry with yourself. It is not anyone’s fault but my own. Move on, and all I ask is you remember me from time to time, as I will think of you too. 

Percy’s hand flew to his mouth. Before, he was only in shock that his mother was gone, but this letter made it seem much more real. He felt like he was grasping for something that didn’t exist.

I love you, Percy. I love you so, so much, more than you will ever know. I will be watching over you as you grow, and no matter what, I will always be with you in spirit. Be brave, be strong, and be kind, Percy. I know you will achieve great things. 

Love, Mom.

Percy didn’t care whether he got strange looks or not; he burst into messy sobs again, trembling. He lost track of time as he wept for the woman who had sacrificed so much, too much, just for his well being. He wept for the Sally Jackson-shaped hole he had in his life, and for the fact that no one else would be able to fill it. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed until he felt the warmth of his girlfriend’s arms around his neck and he looked up in surprise, his eyes still swimming with tears. Annabeth’s eyes were red and puffy too, he noticed, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He snaked one arm around her waist, pulling her close, and gripped the letter in the other. Percy took in deep breaths of the familiar salty air as he looked up to the darkened sky.

There, he saw a crescent moon. It was like a smile, Percy thought. Maybe his mother was smiling down on him. Percy hugged Annabeth tighter as he breathed,

“I love you too, Mom.”

[ciaossu-imagines]

So, following along like I had mentioned in a previous post with some non-requested content for a fandom I don’t normally get many requests or chances to write for, Ikemen Revolution, and I hope you lovely readers will enjoy! I continued on with this prompt, and did the same as previously, where I spelled out the name of the fandom and shared headcanons about various characters to avoid picking favourites!

          I: How do they feel about tattoos? Do they have any?

Okay, but don’t hate because I feel like if you have tattoos, they are something he could grow to appreciate and like on you, but overall, Jonah is not a fan of tattoos. He just doesn’t get them and feels like most of the ones he’s seen just make the person look a little unsavory or unpolished. He definitely would never get one put on himself, no matter how accepting towards them he could potentially get.

          K: Do they have a quote that they live by?

I don’t feel it’s so much a quote as a simple moral lesson, but Harr definitely lives by the philosophy of doing the right thing and of being kind wherever possible. It’s just the core of who he is and how he lives his life.

          E: Do they have a good relationship with their siblings?

Though the relationship did get good, I feel like Kyle and his brother had their moments as younger children. When Kyle was first born, I feel his older brother was jealous of the attention the new baby got and didn’t really warm up to being a big brother right away. There were quite a few childish squabbles, some one-ups-manship during their younger years, and quite a few arguments. However, even with all that, the two brothers always had each other’s back. Nobody was allowed to pick on Kyle besides his older brother and vice versa. Their relationship really grew more steady and closer as the brothers grew up and Kyle really looked up to his older brother, something not lost on the elder, who did everything he could to be worthy of that admiration.

          M: Would they rather live in the country or the city?

Ray is a city boy through and through. The country is nice for a very short stay, but he loves the vibrancy and hustle and bustle of people too much to be comfortable and happy there for too long.

          E: Do they have a good relationship with their siblings?

In a complete opposite from the prior answer to this same question, the Clemence brothers were so close as children before the relationship soured. Luka adored his older brother growing up, admired him so much. Jonah was everything to Luka as a child because Jonah was the one person who always wanted him around and truly loved him. While Jonah didn’t purposefully mean to abandon Luka and he doesn’t see what he did as doing so, the fact is that Luka eventually felt like his brother stopped caring and that Jonah did leave him alone and, truth be told, Luka holds grudges like nobody’s business, making the relationship between the brothers really strained.

          N: How do they feel about politics?

Kyle’s not completely apolitical. He does have opinions; he does have thoughts on what things in Cradle should be like and what should be done. Overall, he’s generally laid back and doesn’t share a lot of those opinions loudly. He doesn’t really see the point of doing so, honestly. Instead of engaging in political discourse with people, he’d rather take action himself and do everything he can to make things better, whether that be through his own work or in a few choice words to the right person.

          R: Who is the first person they call when they are in trouble?

When in trouble, Fenrir calls on Ray and he makes damn sure that Ray knows he can always do that same. Either man would honestly die for the other, should it ever come to that

          E: Do they have a good relationship with their siblings?

Okay, these are just my headcanons because, honestly, I haven’t had the chance to play his route but Seth, in my opinion, was so excited to be a big brother, right from the very moment he found out. He took to it so quickly and with such enthusiasm. He loved his sister and had a good, solid relationship with her. He loved being a big brother and always tried to do the best he could for his sister. The only arguments they had really were because he could sometimes be bossy and overprotective.

          V: Are they a virgin? If not, when and with whom did they lose their virginity?

Honestly, I would find it highly suspicious if Blanc was still a virgin. It’s been hinted strongly that he’s much older than he looks and it’s pretty clear that he’s something of a lady’s man in universe. I think that not only has he lost his virginity, but that he’s got a fair amount of sexual experience. That being said, I think he lost his virginity sometime in his late teens and that he does remember it fairly well and quite fondly.

          O: How would they describe their childhood in general?

Honestly, while it wasn’t the most horrible of childhoods, that’s precisely how Dalim would describe his childhood. He doesn’t care much for his family, honestly, though he doesn’t hate them as much as he pretends at times. It’s just that…he was always the screw-up. Always the bad child in comparison to his brother and it all still kind of seethes deep in his soul.

          L: Do they binge watch shows on Netflix?

I do feel that, if Cradle had a version of Netflix, Mousse would be the character most likely to binge shows. He doesn’t mean to, really. He starts off just planning to watch one or two episodes but nods off and when he wakes up, hey, it’s still playing, might as well watch and figure out what he missed and it just devolves into a steady stream of watch, sleep, watch, sleep.

          U: Do they have a criminal record of any kind?

Ironically, Harr has a criminal record, though it is quite undeserved. Amon, however, has no official criminal record starting the game but damn, does he deserve one.

          T: What is their full name?

I feel like Kyle’s middle name is Charles and I can’t tell you why, but it’s always been there in my head and even if another middle name is written in canon at some point, I’ll probably still keep using it because I feel that strongly about it.

          I: How do they feel about tattoos? Do they have any?

I honestly think Sirius really likes the look of black and white tattoos or ones with minimal colours. Black-out tattoos would really appeal to him too, as would realistic looking ones. He appreciates the artistry and talent needed to create them and he wouldn’t mind getting a tattoo. It’s just that he has no firm ideas on what to get and doesn’t want something generic.

          O: How would they describe their childhood in general?

Jonah, while quite privileged as a child, would describe his childhood as being a little rough and will quickly admit that, had it not been for Luka, his childhood would have been an exceptionally lonely one. He’s grateful for the luxury of being born a Clemence and all that came with it and he’s grateful for not having had to experience poverty, even if he doesn’t always show it, but his childhood was less than ideal, in his opinion.

          N: How do they feel about politics?

Loki is actually very observant, and he knows a lot more about what’s truly going on in Cradle than most would suspect. He does have some political views but, as with most things with this cute kitty, he keeps it well under his hat. He doesn’t much like to share his views if he doesn’t have reason or need to.

[faelune-home]

FFXIVWrite 2023 #15: Portentous

(A/n: Last minute scramble to write this before the timelimit - and I may still have failed aha oh well - but I finally did a follow up from the day 10 extra credit prompt I wrote. Yuri's in Sharlayan! If I had more time I wanted to write her actually interacting with Krile and G'raha but maybe I'll do that in another prompt. Either way, its small progress on a personal storyline I'm working on thru the month.

This month has been so busy so getting the chance to write hasn't been with me. So I'll appreciate what little I've managed to do.

Word count: 575)

“It is a beautiful city. It reminds me of Kugane in how similar it is as a port city but also how different it is as well.”

“It isn’t a bad comparison my dear, it is a nation steeped in culture and knowledge. I would hope that you’ll enjoy perusing their library; even with limited access due to your status, there’s still so much to see, and their mammet guides are fantastic.”

A huff. “So much knowledge and yet they kept it to themselves didn’t they? Do they not trust the rest of the world or do they think they were the best to keep it? Seems rather arrogant and selfish to me.”

“Come now Yuri, it isn’t like that. I can’t speak to their reasons for those in charge, but many a Sharlayan has been open to sharing what they have if it is needed. Why the Students themselves travel the breadth of the world to assist alongside their own research. And you will hopefully join them.”

Yuri looked up at her father, eyes tearing away from the bustling city at the other end of the pier. Upon her arrival, he’d taken her to the furthest end of the promenade, with the best view of the great statue of the city’s patron deity. It was a magnificent statue, surely a feat of design and engineering for its size and feature at the city’s entrance. But her first impressions were still somewhat set on whispers she’d heard long before.

“Perhaps. I would trust you father that they are good people, if you say that they can offer me experience I can’t get back home with my own studies,” she sighed. “I’m just rather…nervous, about all of this. Moving across the star, and to be with strangers I know nothing about.”

“Perhaps ‘nothing’ isn’t entirely true. They have history in many nations, even in such a brief window of time. Aiding rebellions for example, like our own neighbours,” Daichi smiled, hoping to sound encouraging. Yuri’s eyes widened.

“The Students? Aiding the uprising of the Domans?”

“Well, not the Students themselves exactly, but some of their members were part of the effort along with another Sharlayan collective. I forget the name, but that could be something to ask your new keepers while you’re here?” he offered. She still looked uncertain. In a final attempt to lift her wary and suspicious spirit, Daichi placed a hand on her shoulder and bent down to be at her level. Oh but even at that she’d grown so tall for an au ri woman, it gave him an odd sense of pride seeing how she carried herself.

“I am still here for a moon longer. You can always come to me if you need anything. And even should I leave, the Students have offered me a Linkshell, specifically so I may keep in touch with you. At any moment of any hour of the day, you ring and I will answer. And if you ever felt this wasn’t working, you are free to stop. So long as you are happy and willing. Okay?”

“...Okay. I’ll try my best, father.”

“That’s my dear.” A final pat on the shoulder, and just in time for him to turn and see their Students finally approaching down the long pier. He could only hope Yuri really took to the group. And he hoped it could only help her and offer her many opportunities he couldn’t.

[hwatermelonsuga]

Do You Feel the Love?

° genre: friends to lovers, slow-burn(ish), non-idol AU

° warnings: slight language warning, alcohol mentioned, small talk about sex positions but not really explicit

° pairing: Joshua x Seokmin (DK)

° summary: The 3 times Joshua tells Seokmin he loves him, and the one time Seokmin says it back.

° word count: 10k

This fic was made for the Clownracha January prompt (self-indulgent). Purely based on the song Double Take if you could not tell from the title. I’m still obsessed with Joshua’s cover and I had to write this. I didn’t expect it to turn out how it did but it exists now. So, enjoy

Joshua isn’t the kind of person to spurge on anyone, not even himself. He tends to know where to spend his money and how much. Once in a while, he may buy something outrageous but that’s something rare. Blame it on his childhood. However, there is one person who he would buy the moon for. Someone he would give him anything he wanted, even if it cost him an arm and a leg.

Seokmin.

Joshua would do anything for Seokmin. He wants Joshua’s last fall collection for free? He’d get it. He wants to go to Beyoncé’s Renaissance tour? Joshua’s taking him to all of the stops and will find a way for Seokmin to meet her. Seokmin asks for the stars, Joshua will give him the universe. Joshua loves Seokmin. It’s that simple.

Well… kind of.

See, Joshua could do all of these things for Seokmin but it’ll only be seen as a friendly gesture. Seokmin doesn’t know his best friend’s true feelings and Joshua doesn’t plan on telling him. At least not now. He’s thought about it for a few years now, his crush starting when they first hung out in high school. All of those years of just watching Seokmin fall in and out of love with other people. All of those years of hoping Seokmin would notice, would eventually like him back and maybe even confess first. Deep inside Joshua knew it wouldn’t happen. He wanted to wait his turn, but maybe he was just waiting in the wrong line. So, instead of hoping, he settled. He settled for the best friend role. He settled for just being by his side. It was honestly better than confessing and not having Seokmin at all if he didn’t return his feelings. Regardless, Joshua let Seokmin know his romantic love for him subtly, disguising it as platonic love.

1

“Why are we here? I thought you said we were going to a small cafe or something like that.”

“Well, it’s not a total lie.”

Joshua ushered Seokmin to a two-person table in the back of the dessert bar, DejaVu. The place was clean with a rustic and cozy design. Seokmin didn’t understand why it was a bit dim inside, but he went along with it. Glancing around, he noticed the hanging plants and weird little knickknacks that littered the store, Fairy lights decorating some of the darker areas. From what he could see, the menu was that weird cursive font that’s kind of hard to read but clearly the owner didn’t care because it’s part of the aesthetic. Well to hell with aesthetics, how was he supposed to know what he wanted if he couldn’t even read the damn thing? Then again, Seokmin had no worries since Joshua made his way to the front where the counter was and ordered for both of them. He waited a few minutes until Joshua came back with his receipt and a slight smile on his face.

“How much was my order?”

Joshua waved him off, “Don’t worry about it.”

Seokmin sighed at that. Here they go again. Joshua buying things for him and not letting Sokmin pay him back. “No, tell me. I already owe you for dinner last week.”

“No you don’t. I told you, I’ll pay for you. Now, enjoy my company!”

“We’re not doing this again-”

“Seokmin,” Joshua called out with a stern voice. That was Seokmin’s sign to drop it. He knew Joshua wasn’t gonna let him pull out his wallet, not when he’s around. He rolled his eyes and looked around more. The place should’ve been cozy, but Seokmin couldn’t sit back. His right leg was shaking and Seokmin just felt out of place. The other customers around them looked rich, acted rich. They each had their own eccentric style and it just made him feel as if he was an outsider barging in on their rich people's space. He just didn’t belong.

Joshua noticed the look on his face and nudged Seokmin’s foot with his own. The man jumped up a bit and directed his attention to him.

“I know that look on your face. Calm down.”

“How Shua? I don’t even get why you brought me here. It’s expensive and the people here are kinda weird,” he whispered to the smirking man. He was right. DejaVu is not cheap, the lowest thing on the menu being more than what Seokmin makes in one vocal session. He may be exaggerating but who knows, there’s no price on the menu that he can’t read! And he was right about the people there. Joshua glanced a bit at the man at the table nearby, seeing him cut some weird dessert that he didn’t know the name of and eating the bigger piece. Who was he kidding, it was practically the whole dessert. Maybe they should’ve gotten it to-go.

“You may have a point,” Seokmin hummed at that, “but I’ve always wanted to try this place and I didn’t want to come alone.”

“Then why didn’t you bring one of your rich friends?”

“Cause you’re my best friend,” Joshua smiled at the man, hoping to cheer him up. “Also, I know you’ve been stressed lately, and I want to treat you.”

Seokmin rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. He hated that Joshua was right. Work had been stressing him, with rude people thinking that they were better than him and jumping the gun on their lessons and overbearing parents asking for him to go over the usual time so that their child can have the perfect voice. His job wasn’t hell, in fact he enjoyed helping others reach their potential and digging deep within themselves and producing the best sound they could, but there’s always that one person who ruins it. Or several.

Before he could speak, one of the employees delivered their desserts, carefully placing them on the table. They thanked the man and grabbed their utensils.

“Alright, this one should be the Golden Phoenix. It’s supposed to have Amedei Porcelana chocolate, Ugandan vanilla beans, and something that I can’t remember. This one is the Green Lady, it’s just a matcha green tea cake. Oh, and I got both of us a chocolate truffle each.”

Seokmin didn’t know what the hell those ingredients were and why they were needed for this small cupcake. Why not use store-bought ingredients? Hopefully the matcha cake wasn’t made of unnecessary ingredients. And don’t get him started on the truffles. He knew those were expensive, but he would leave it alone this time since he’s always wanted to try them. Seokmin looked back to the expensive looking cupcake and went to poke at it.

“Umm, what’s this on top of it?”

“Edible gold.”

Seokmin almost choked on his own spit. “Are you serious? Like real gold?”

“Yes. I don’t get why you’re surprised. You’ve had it before.”

“I have?” He doesn’t recall such a thing. Seokmin would definitely remember if he’s eaten a currency before. Is gold even used as currency anymore?

“Yeah, you had gold flakes on your birthday cake last year.” Seokmin’s mind was blown right now. He left that topic alone, now knowing that Joshua lied to him about how much his birthday cake actually cost.

“How much was all of this?”

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?”

“I know but come on. I’ll find out eventually.”

Joshua playfully glared at him. He doubted it. He pushed the cupcake to him and took the matcha cake for himself. To distract Seokmin, he started up a conversation about a trailer for a movie he saw last week. It was a good distraction since Seokmin was eating the desserts without a second thought. Joshua eventually just listened to Seokmin talk the whole time, enjoying the glow on the man’s face as he talked about when one of his students brought their dog into his home studio yesterday. He wanted to put a smile on the man’s face when he talked about a restaurant getting his order wrong, but not saying anything because he was anxious to say something about it. He let him go on and on with no complaints. Yeah, he was whipped.

Whipped for the man who will never be his. For the man who will always be his best friend.

Joshua felt his smile almost drop at that thought. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful or selfish, but he wanted to be more with Seokmin. He didn’t want to be stuck in the friend zone. Is he willing to risk their friendship? Maybe. Confess and possibly lose Seokmin, or stay silent and just be glad that he’s in his life? These are the choices that he didn’t want to choose.

For now though, he’ll stay quiet. He’ll stay quiet as they finish their sweet treats. He’ll stay quiet as they walk along the sidewalks, enjoying the fresh air and the noises of the city. He’ll stay quiet as they walk along the cobblestone path of the city garden where the most beautiful flowers of different species grow and the butterflies roam.

He wanted to stay quiet, but he had to let one phrase out, one sentence that meant everything to him but not the same to Seokmin.

“Hey, Minnie.”

“Yeah Shua?”

“I love you.”

2

Joshua didn’t want to be here, but he had to. The music wasn’t too loud but that didn’t matter since there were a lot of people in the large event space. Sadly, there were no seats available except for the ones by the bar that were currently sat in. He squeezed his way through the crowd, getting stopped every second by someone complimenting him or congratulating him. He couldn’t properly thank who was complimenting him since the place was dim. Why is every spot he goes to dim? And along with that, he had to dodge anyone who bumped into him or almost spilled their drink.

Why did he even go to these things?

He needed a break.

Just a few hours ago, Joshua had a show for his new spring collection. The fashion show went great. The venue was amazing, it being held at his friend’s art studio (Thank you, Taehyung). There may have been a few slip-ups with the clothing, but that was quickly fixed backstage and no one in the crowd knew. Overall, it was a success and honestly he wanted to go home right after. It’s tiring planning a whole show by yourself. Well, not exactly by himself since he did have his team to do the difficult tasks. Still, creating the clothes and running the show is hard. He had to make everything perfect, not for the critics and other designers there, but for Seokmin. This was the first fashion show that he was able to make and Joshua needed everything to go right. Luckily it did because after the show, Seokmin found him packing up and the look on his face made Joshua’s night. He looked so proud of his best friend, showering him with praises until they made it to the after party. He was having a good time at first, Seokmin being stuck to his side since he didn’t know anyone there. The place was filled with models, designers, and celebrities. All there to get drunk and post on social media. They went around with flutes of champagne in their hands and people occasionally came by to say something to Joshua.

He only left Seokmin for a second to talk to his assistant, and he lost him. So now, Joshua was searching for him. He knew he should’ve had him come with, but Seokmin kept insisting that he would be okay alone. Who swept him away?

Joshua traveled to the outskirts of the crowd and found the person he was looking for. Seokmin was leaning on one of the small tables talking to someone. Tall, dark haired male. He was clearly flexing his biceps that were on full display since he had a sleeveless top on. His charming smile made Joshua sick. Coming closer, he realized who the gorgeous idiot was.

Mingyu.

Really, one of his models?

The betrayal he felt was immense, even though he shouldn’t feel that way. Mingyu doesn’t know about his infatuation, his love for Seokmin. He probably doesn’t even know that they came together. It’s not Mingyu’s fault that Seokmin was attractive. He was the flame and everyone else were moths, flying closer and closer to him. It’s not his fault that Seokmin could pull anyone from the party. He could take anyone home, and it looks like Mingyu will be the lucky man.

Maybe he should do something about it.

No, he shouldn’t. Seokmin looks like he’s having a good time. He’s laughing at whatever Mingyu is whispering to him in his ear. He’s letting the man hold his hand, touch his shoulder. The sight was making Joshua sick, to be honest.

Now, Joshua isn’t usually a jealous man. If Seokmin is interested in someone, then he leaves it alone and supports him. However, seeing a hand travel to Seokmin’s waist was the last straw. He thought about letting Sekomin have fun with the model, but for some reason he didn’t want that to happen tonight.

He’s drunk, that’s why. Joshua convinced himself.

With that in mind, he made his way over to the two. He placed a hand on Seokmin’s shoulder, causing the man to jump slightly and look to see who was behind him.

“SHUAAA, you’re back! Oh, you know Mingyu, right?”

“Yeah, I do. Thanks for being in the show by the way,” Joshua said the last part to the smiling man, putting out a hand.

“No, thank you! I’ve always wanted to model for you,” Mingyu excitedly told the designer, taking his hand and roughly shaking it. Clearly, he was unaware of his own strength. Joshua turned his attention to Seokmin. “I have to sadly leave early. I have a meeting tomorrow morning so if you’re ready we can go ahead and leave.”

Seokmin whined a bit, not wanting to leave Mingyu and the free drinks. “Do you really have to?”

He didn’t but he wasn’t gonna say that out loud. “Yes. Now say goodbye to Mingyu.”

“Bye Mingyu,” Seokmin grumbled and started to follow his friend out.

“Oh wait,” Mingyu caught his hand. “Can I get-” He was interrupted by someone he knew pulling him to god knows where.

Seokmin looked back for a second but was continuously dragged by Joshua. “Wait, but I didn’t get his number.”

“You’ll get it later.”

“How?”

Joshua rolled his eyes at that. Did he already forget that he knew Mingyu? Leaving that thought alone, he ushered Seokmin out of the venue and to the valet where the worker was fetching his car.

“Why are we going home so early,” Seokmin asked.

“I told you, I have a meeting tomorrow.” Joshua placed Seokmin’s arm over his shoulder and held his waist. He wasn’t exactly drunk but he was getting there. He didn’t count how many glasses he had, but he was sure that he probably had something to drink before the party.

“Ok then, why am I going home early?”

“I’m not leaving you alone with thousands of strangers.”

Seokmin pouted, “But I had Gyu and he’s not a stranger.”

“Ok Seokmin.” And Joshua left it at that. Truth be told, there was a small feeling in him that just didn’t want Seokmin to be with Mingyu. It’s not that he thinks the model is a bad guy or anything, but he just couldn’t leave Seokmin with him.

The valet arrived and passed the keys to him. Joshua carefully put Seokmin in the passenger’s seat, buckling him in. He tipped the valet and went to the driver’s side, getting in and pulling off. For the whole ride, Seokmin quietly sang to the playlist Joshua randomly put on. The windows were down, allowing cool air in the car and softly blowing Seokmin’s bangs out of his face. Joshua was tempted to take the longest route to Seokmin’s place. He didn’t want to disturb the serene scene next to him. Seokmin looked at peace, only minutes from falling asleep. At every red light, Joshua looked over to see if he was okay, and every time Seokmin would look over and smile, signaling that he was.

Joshua loved when he smiled. The outer corner of his eyes wrinkled up a bit, his pearly whites showing off.

If only this moment could last, Joshua thought. Technically, he could make it last. He just doesn’t know how Seokmin would feel about a 3 or so hour long car ride. Then again, Seokmin was always down for anything Joshua planned. But alas, the night had to end somehow. Also, he needed to get the tipsy man home to rest. Arriving at Seokmin's apartment, Joshua turned the car off and went to get him from the passenger’s seat. Before he could open the door, Seokmin was already taking his seat belt off and trying to push the door open without using the handle. Joshua laughed a bit and tried to cover it with a cough, opening the door for him. Seokmin looked up with worry.

“Are you getting sick?”

“No, just clearing my throat. Now come on, let’s get you up the stairs.”

“Are you sure? I can make a mean chicken noodle soup for you.”

“You don’t need to,” Joshua carried him out of the car and locked the door. He struggled a bit seeing that Seokmin kept trying to push him off, but he eventually got him to the second floor of his apartment building and unlocked the door. He left Seokmin to take his own shoes off as he did the same. He placed both his hands on each of the man’s shoulders and directed him to his bedroom.

“I don’t know why you’re helping me, I’m not drunk.”

“Yeah, but I know you’re getting sleepy.”

“Wrong.”

“I’m right.”

Seokmin was about to retort back, but Joshua lightly pushed him to lay on his bed. Seokmin grumbled but it was muffled by the covers on his bed. Joshua went to get the shower ready and picked out his night clothes. He left the room and headed to the kitchen to grab a water bottle out of the fridge and went back to set it on the nightstand next to the pain medicine he grabbed earlier. With everything ready, Joshua checked on Seokmin to make sure he didn’t fall asleep before he could get ready for bed. Shaking him, the man groaned and lifted his head a bit.

“Do you think you can get ready on your own?”

“Of course I can, I’m not a child.”

“Yeah, whatever. The shower’s ready and I already have pjs out for you.”

“Thanks mom.” Joshua cringed at that. Being mom-zoned is definitely worse than being friend-zoned. He hummed and went to leave.

“I’m headed out. Don’t collapse.”

“I won’t.”

Should I say it? It won’t matter… not in the way I want it to matter to him.

“I love you.”

“Mmmm,” Seokmin hummed. Joshua furrowed his brows. Did he fall asleep? He went over to the man and shook him.

“Mmm, I’m up, I’m up.”

Joshua made sure Seokmin got up and went to the bathroom before saying their goodbyes and he left the apartment.

Idiot.

3

“You sure I should be here?”

“Yes please. I’ve been bored just stuck in the house all day and since you won’t let me leave-” Seokmin stopped as he felt a sneeze coming, but was ultimately disappointed as it went away.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just trying to help you.”

Seokmin rolled his eyes as Joshua passed him a box of tissues and a warm mug filled with a cup of tea. For the past few days, Seokmin has been sick with the flu and because he’s a good friend, Joshua forced him to quarantine. Joshua hasn’t even been in his room, only dropping necessities off at his bedroom door. So now since Seokmin claims to feel better, Joshua decided it was a fine time to have a movie night at Seokmin’s place. That way, he can finally have some type of human interaction that he was deprived of. Also, Joshua was just tired of Seokmin constantly calling him, complaining and whining that he’ll die being holed up in his room.

“I swear.. if I get sick, I’m killing you.”

“You’re not going to get sick. I feel better, I promise.”

The skeptical man rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen to grab all of the prepped snacks: popcorn, various types of candies, and chips. He went back to the living room to see Seokmin scrolling through the romance section on Netflix.

Oh…

Joshua was very tempted to tell Seokmin to pick another genre. He doesn’t think he would be able to handle romance movies right now. At least, not with Seokmin right by his side. It would just make him feel worse about his feelings towards Seokmin. You’d think that they would be inspiring, allowing Joshua to get ideas on how to get out of the friend-zone, but they don’t. He only ends up with deprecating thoughts on how he’ll never get a happy ending. He ends up comparing himself with the male lead or the love interest in the movie. Sure, he’s as handsome as them and maybe even the same level of charming. Not to blow up his own ego, but he would be the perfect male lead. He has everything that others want in a man… but there’s just that one thing that’s missing and he has no idea what it is. Just that one thing that differentiates him and these characters. It could be the boldness or the audacity. Whatever it is that these characters have, he doesn’t have it and that’s, in his eyes, the reason why Seokmin will never be with him.

Wow, that was depressing.

Joshua ended his thoughts and laid all of the food on the long coffee table. He grabbed the extra blanket that lay on the armchair next to the couch and sat near Seokmin.

“Find anything yet?”

Seokmin sighed at the question. “Not really. Either I’ve watched it before or I’m not interested. Or my least favorite actor is starring in the movie.”

It took about 5 minutes but they finally found a rom-com to watch. From reading the synopsis, it seemed like a cliche movie, which worked since those types of movies are Seokmin’s guilty pleasures and Joshua will watch anything that Seokmin wanted to watch, even if the acting made him want to cut his ears off and claw his eyeballs out.

Yeah, it was that bad.

But Seokmin liked it.

And what Seokmin liked, Joshua loved.

Except for Mingyu.

Which reminded Joshua “Hey, have you heard from Mingyu recently?”

“Eh, not really. We haven’t talked since last weekend.”

“What’s going on?”

He was curious. At the party last month, Seokmin was all over Mingyu, his eyes in the shape of hearts as he laughed at every one of Mingyu’s jokes which probably weren’t that funny. The day after the party, Mingyu practically begged Joshua for Seokmin’s number. He was reluctant, but eventually gave in. The two went on a few dates and from what Seokmin told him after each one, it seemed like they were hitting it off. Seemed like Mingyu truly liked Seokmin. He expected them to be in a relationship by now, but things seemed to be opposite of his expectations.

“Nothing really. I mean Mingyu is great, but I’m finding out he’s not really my type.”

“Really,” Joshua gasped. He didn’t expect that. Mingyu totally seemed like a perfect fit for Seokmin: tall, muscular with a nice, firm chest, pretty smile, terrible jokes but somehow Seokmin found them funny. He also knew that Mingyu was a great cook. The last time Mingyu modeled for him, he generously brought lunch for him and the other few models that were there. Joshua couldn’t beat that. But since Seokmin said he wasn’t his type… then what the hell is his type?

“Yeah, and you’d think that he was. But yeah, I think it’d only work as a fling maybe.”

“Then… what is your type?” Joshua held his breath waiting for the answer. He swears, if it’s the total opposite of him, he’ll cause a ruckus. Then again, he can’t do anything about that. He’s not in control of Seokmim’s preference, of what he finds attractive.

“I don’t know. I guess someone who’s kind, charming, and I guess, like, someone who’s able to calm me down whether I’m too hyped or anxious.”

Joshua took in his words. “I think Mingyu could be that.” God it hurt him to say that.

“I guess. But I prefer someone down to Earth, someone who likes the same things I do.”

“And I’m sure he can be that if he isn’t already.”

“That’s true. Then again, I want someone older. I barely can take care of myself, you think I can take care of someone younger than me.”

“You’re not gonna be taking care of him. He’s a grown ass man, I’m sure he can take care of himself.”

“He’s also a bottom.”

Joshua froze at that, his brain processing what was just said.

“What?”

“Yeah, Mingyu is most definitely a bottom,” Seokmin shrugged.

“Ho-how do you know that?”

Seokmin rolled his eyes as if it was obvious. “I know a bottom when I see one. I know my people. He may be all tall and big, but he is definitely a bottom. Matter of fact I bet he’s a pillow princess.”

Joshua was speechless at Seokmin’s assumption. He guessed that made sense but it was still a bit shocking to hear from the man next to him. Now that Joshua thinks about it, he’s pretty lucky that Mingyu is younger than Seokmin.. and apparently a bottom. A pillow princess at that. If he was older and a top (maybe even a switch), Mingyu would be the perfect man for Seokmin.

Maybe he has a chance.

Maybe Seokmin was describing him. It was a long shot but one can hope.

Joshua kind of zoned out from the rest of the conversation. He really was thinking deeply on what Seokmin told him.

He’s kind and charming, at least he thinks so.

He can be down to Earth.

And Joshua is always there to be a rock for Seokmin. Always a call away when he needs him. Reliable.

And clearly they have a lot of things in common. They both enjoy similar genres of music. They both love anime, always binging a new show every other week. They both love the outdoors (However they like different activities. Seokmin would rather die than go biking or hiking).

And Joshua is older, by 2 years. He can take care of Seokmin. He already does and he’ll continue to do so. He’ll make sure that Seokmin never has to lift a finger, giving him anything he desires.

And Joshua is most definitely not a pillow princess…

All of this was making his head spin. Maybe he did have a chance. Maybe Seokmin was describing him the whole time. Maybe he was signaling to him to finally make a move.

All of these maybe’s.

He needed a definitive answer. He didn’t want to risk their relationship. He didn’t want to assume that Seokmjn felt the same way as he did. Just because some of the descriptors of Seokmin’s type matched up to who Joshu was as a person didn’t mean anything. It could just mean that he wants someone who’s similar to his best friend. Someone who his best friend will approve of.

Too bad for Seokmin because Joshua will approve of no one but himself.

Joshua didn’t even pay attention to the on-going movie. He was stuck in his thoughts, trying to figure out the hidden message, if there was one. Every once in a while, his doe eyes would glance over to Seokmin, wondering what was going on inside his head. The same thoughts circulating over and over again. Eventually, he kept his vision on the TV screen, the current movie’s conflict being resolved.

Was he in his head for that long? What was even going on in the movie? That didn’t matter and it’s not like Joshua wanted to go back to figure it out.

As the movie came to an end, Seokmin looked over to Joshua. “Ready for the next one?”

Joshua nodded. Seokmin went through the scrolling process again until he found the next enticing movie for the two to watch. Joshua picked up his phone to look at the time. It was close to 11. He could stay for this one. Honestly, he thought of just staying until Seokmin dozed off to sleep just so he could carry him to bed, tuck him in… and maybe try to find his journal (more like diary) that he knew Seokmin kept in his underwear drawer.

No, no he shouldn’t do that…

But he could.

But that’s an invasion of privacy.

But maybe Seokmin wrote somehow about him. About his feelings.

But then again.. what if he didn’t? What if there’s nothing in the journal about Joshua and Seokmin’s feelings for him?

And if he did try to go through it and there was something about Seokmin loving him back, what then? What would be the next steps? Confessing? Sure, but the thought of doing that made Joshua’s palms sweat. Made him a bit dizzy. What if he lost those feelings right that second? What if Seokmin rejects him out of sheer panic? It’s unlikely but it’s Seokmin.

Joshua sat there contemplating, missing another rom-com. Luckily he’s not attached to this one as well. In the middle of the movie, Seokmin eventually laid his head on Joshua’s shoulder. He knew he should be used to this but Joshua was almost panicking as if this simple motion, this simple contact would allow Seokmin to read his mind. He knew that was impossible, but sometimes the impossible can happen.

Alright, Joshua needed to get a grip on reality. Mind reading, really?

When will this movie night end?

He went to wipe his hands on his sweatpants but noticed how close Seokmin’s hand was to his. Fighting with his instincts to hold the man’s hand, Joshu eventually lost. Seokmin didn’t react much to it. Guess he was used to this type of affection, which made sense. He’s always cuddly and touchy with his other friends, specifically Seungkwan and Soonyoung. So why was Joshua a bit disappointed in the lack of response? This situation is just two best friends hanging out, cuddling on the couch…

Or this could be a sign…

Stop it Joshua. You’re a grown ass man, get yourself together and stop acting like a damn middle schooler with their crush.

As the movie was coming to an end, Joshua made a decision. Tired of being this sad, lonely man who can’t put his big boy pants on and confess. Yeah, they’re best friends and he didn’t want their relationship to change for the worse, but he had to get over that fear. No matter what happens, Seokmin will still be there by his side. They can get past the little awkward phase. Will Joshua be hurt? Of course, but he can get over it. If it’s not meant to be, he can’t force it. He can’t force Seokmin to love him the way he loves him.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it would sure as hell feel like it.

…

Fuck it. Joshua thought. He can take a bit of pain.

“Seokmin… I just… I need to tell you something and I need you to listen. It’s not bad or anything. Well, I guess it depends on the outcome. Or maybe not, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just paranoid. But I want to tell you that,” Joshua breathed, ready to tell the man he loved what’s circulating in his head.

The thing that’s long overdue.

“I love you, and not just as your best friend. It’s more than platonic love, it’s just this strong feeling that I have. No matter what I do to forget these feelings, no matter how hard I try to push them away, you do something that just makes it hard to not love you, to not want to be with you. You’re always there to make me laugh, to cheer me on, to be a shoulder to cry on. You’re everything that I hope for in a partner. This sounds crazy, but I can picture our future together and I would probably do anything and everything to make it happen. Then again, you don’t have to love me back or anything, I just felt the need to tell you that you’re the love of my life and I don’t know what I’d do without you. And even if you hate me after this, I’ll still be there for you… I won’t be that crazy person that tries to prevent people from asking you out. Just whatever you say, however you feel about me, about us, know that I don’t want to lose you. Nothing has to change. It’d be great if you felt the same way, but if not, I’ll be okay. I’m okay with a little pain. Just as long as you’re with me, smiling that bright smile, I’ll be fine.”

As he finished his speech, Joshua balled his fist and became stiff waiting for Seokmin’s reaction. For a second it was silent. He was too afraid to look over to Seokmin and see either the awe or disgust on his face. He waited a minute but there still was no response. His vision started to blur as his eyes brimmed with tears. Oh no, this is it. This is the end of their relationship. Seokmin is too quiet for his reply to be a positive one. Joshua thought he’d be able to handle the rejection, but now that he was in the moment, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle it now. His hands trembled a bit as he went to glance over to Seokmin.

“It’s okay to say-” Joshua stopped his sentence as he noticed the man sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. A bit of drool escaped his mouth and finally quiet snores filled the silence. Joshua looked away and ahead of him. He silently let out the deep breath that needed to be let out, slowly relaxing his tense body. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. A few drops of tears escaped his eyes and he let them run down his burning cheeks.

He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed that Seokmin heard none of what he confessed. Maybe it wasn’t the time.

Maybe it’ll never be the time.

+1

Joshua buried himself in his work ever since the incident happened. He hasn’t seen Seokmin in person for about 2 weeks. To not make it suspicious, he has been texting him or video calling him, telling him every time that he’s busy creating his next collection and checking on his shops. He could just face him after his failed attempt to confess. That may be his last time confessing. It just seems like the universe is against him so why should he even try again? Again, maybe it’s a sign that they’re not meant to be together. That they’re better off as friends.

Joshua thinks that his ego has recovered for the most part and knows that he has to meet up with Seokmin eventually. It’s rare for them to be apart that long. Even if either of them are swamped, they try to meet for lunch or dinner each week.

Maybe he should do something for him.

Two weeks later, Joshua called up Seokmin and told him to pack his bags.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“You’ll see. Just pack enough stuff for a weekend.”

“Shua, please tell me-”

“And make sure you don’t have appointments.”

Before Seokmin could say another word, Joshua hung up and went to packing as well.

What Joshua was planning was a spontaneous trip to New York. He wanted Seokmin to have the best experience somewhere he’s never been before. And not only that, but he wanted to take him to his favorite musical, Wicked.

Joshua doesn’t know exactly why he wanted to go all out for their first in-person gathering after not seeing each other for weeks. Maybe deep down he still wants to impress Seokmin (even if Seokmin tells him he doesn’t need to). Maybe he still wants to confess and figured why not go all out. Whatever it was, he pushed the theories to the back of his mind and thought about everything that they should do for the short trip.

The next few days were filled with planning and buying things: hotel room, Broadway tickets, gifts, etc.

Finally on Thursday, Joshua stopped by Seokmin’s studio and found him finishing up a session with one of his students. Joshua admired the somehow stern but soft look on the man’s face.

He really did love his job. In fact, he was made for it. The joy the man had when his student’s smile lit up the room as they finally got the note down, Seokmin complimenting them. The gentle and comforting looks he would give if someone’s voice cracked. The look the student would have on their face when they got to hear Seokmin’s beautiful and powerful voice. The admiration, the amazement, the awe.

Joshua honestly thought that Seokmin would’ve been an artist. Sadly, his fear of judgment and rejection prevented him from stepping outside of his comfort zone. Just the thought of no one listening to his music was painful, or people saying that he doesn’t have stage presence or his shows were boring. That he has no range. All of those insecurities that Seokmin had were ridiculous to Joshua. No one is a professional so who are they to tell Seokmin that he’s not a great performer. And a bad singer, he could never get that insult from anyone, and one can obviously tell just by how his students look up to him. Just by how many people ask him for vocal lessons because of his ability. Sure just because someone can be a great singer doesn’t mean they can also be a great teacher/coach, but Seokmin is both an excellent coach and singer.

But enough of Joshua simping over Seokmin and his musical talent, they had a flight to catch. Joshua leaned on the wall next to the doorway and waited for the two to finish. Once Seokmin’s alarm went off, signaling that the session was over, he looked to see the man waiting and smiled. He walked his young student out the door and closed it.

“Ready to leave,” Joshua asked him.

“Almost, I have to take some things to my office and lock up the place. I also have my suitcase here so we don’t have to stop by my place.”

With that, Joshua left Seokmin to do what he needed and waited by the front entrance of the building. He only had to wait for a few minutes and once Seokmin came to the entrance, the two made their way to Joshua’s car. For the whole drive to their destination, Seokmin kept asking where they were headed. Joshua wasn’t going to tell him and Seokmin knew that, but he still wanted to try and see if he could get the answer out of him. Eventually they arrived at this small hangar which confused Seokmin. Looking around, he saw a few jets and noticed that there was one that was out in the open. The stairs leading to the jet was down with a man waiting at the bottom.

“Um, Shua, what the hell?”

“Minnie, you ever been in a PJ?”

“No, I’ve never been in a sandwich.” Joshua held himself back from smacking Seokmin and turning back to send him home.

“Bad joke.”

“I know, but you still love me.” Yeah, Joshua did.

“Answer my question.”

Seokmin rolled his eyes at the demand. “No I haven’t. How much money did you spend on this? We could've just gone to a regular airport and flew in a regular airplane.”

“Well for one, I didn’t pay a lot for this.” This was somewhat the truth. He did pay a concerning amount, but it was still reasonable since he got a deal from his friend, Wonwoo who actually owned the private jet. “And second, why fly on a regular plane if I have access to a private one?”

“Well, I don’t know, to save money?”

“Eh, it’s fake anyway.”

“To you.”

Before the conversation could continue, Joshua finally arrived closer to the man who seemed to be waiting on them. He parked the car and went to get out with Seokmin following. The stranger walked towards them and Joshua handed him the keys to his car. Seokmin kind of zoned out as he didn’t know what was going on nor what to actually do. He just followed Joshua and eventually got on the jet.

While Joshua was comfortable in his seat, Seokmin was a bit tense. Joshua looked as if he belonged here. Well, he did. He apparently had the money for it. Seokmin felt out of place. This whole private jet is for wealthy people, someone he is not. Sure, he makes a decent amount of money, but not enough to do all the things that Joshua is able to do, not enough to buy all of the things his best friend is able to buy. He felt lucky to still be friends with the famous designer. He didn’t understand how they’ve been friends this long. He honestly thought that they would have had a falling out a long time ago. That he would be left behind while Joshua became friends with all of these celebrities or rich people who always flock to him.

But Joshua never left him.

Never turned his back on Seokmin. He was always there for him. Always there to support him or help him. Seokmin felt warm at that, happy that he had a friend like Joshua.

Honestly, Seokmin felt that they could be more than that, especially with the way that Joshua spoils him. And he’s not just thinking about all of the material things that Joshua has gotten for him but also how Joshua spoils him with time and attention. With a caring attitude and love. He couldn’t believe that he had Joshua in his life.

He remembers when he first met Joshua. He was new to the area since his mother got a new job. Joshua was an upperclassman and Seokmin admired the boy. Joshua wasn’t exactly popular like those kids in the movies, but he was pretty well known. Both boys were in the theater club and would always talk after school or would acknowledge each other in the halls. Eventually, they started hanging out outside of school and club time. Seokmin’s admiration turned into a crush and he would always find a way to be with Joshua. He never bothered to confess, thinking that it was a simple crush that he would eventually grow out of. And also Joshua was way out of his league. So with that thought, he settled for being a friend, satisfied with Joshua just being present in his life, at least until he left for college. With Joshua’s time cutting close, Seokmin tried to hang out with him as much as possible, having game nights and sleepovers. When Joshua eventually graduated and left, Seokmin was a bit sad. He didn’t have Joshua by his side. Sure, they would text and call, but it just wasn’t the same.

Luckily, he had his other friends to keep him company during school. Jaehyun, Jungkook, and Eunwoo were his main friends that he made when he was on the soccer team for a year but ultimately left because he lost interest. He also had people in theater club that he would hang out with at times. With all that being said, he wasn’t totally alone, but with Joshua doing college things, he did feel a bit lonely. That feeling changed when he got accepted to the same university that Joshua attended. He wasn’t necessarily following his crush since the university had a really great music program, but it was a plus that his best friend and crush went there.

And with that, they went back to how things were before Joshua left. Some things may have changed, but Seokmin found that Joshua was the same old Joshua and that his crush never went away. Still, he didn’t want to confess. Not only did he want their friendship to last. He even dated people to get over his crush. Sometimes it worked, other times he wished that the person sitting across from him at the sticky table inside of the late night diner that was chosen as a last minute date was Joshua. Overtime, Seokmin pushed his feelings aside, and up until now he forgot about that need to confess, the desire to be more with Joshua.

Seokmin doesn’t really know why he’s thinking of this, of his life with Joshua. Maybe it’s some force reminding him of his still-there feelings for Joshua. Maybe it’s fate telling him that it’s time. That all of his time and effort using other people to forget his crush on Joshua was a waste. That the right person was in front of him the whole time.

Or he’s just crazy or overthinking things.

He’s brought out of his thoughts as the jet starts to move. He looked over to see Joshua getting comfortable with his blanket.

Guess I should do the same.

During the flight, Seokmin couldn’t get comfortable. He was usually like this anyway. Planes made him nervous, especially since he’s more than 1,000 feet in the air. He’s already afraid of heights, but putting his life in the hands of a stranger and a hunk of metal?

There should be better ways to transport.

After a few hours, they arrived in New York. They easily got their things and headed to whatever fancy hotel Joshua reserved a room at. They ended up at some high-end hotel called the Conrad. Apparently it was pretty much in the center of all the attractions in Manhattan. Joshua got their room keys while Seokmin observed the lobby. People were going in and out of the hotel, different types of weird ancient artwork decorated the open space, and it seemed hectic but somehow calm at the same time. He couldn’t really explain it. The place looked pretty impressive though, so he could guess how much a night would be.

Spoiler alert: a lot.

Joshua led him to the elevator that lifted them up to the top floors. They were led to their room which made Seokmin’s jaw drop. When they first entered, they were met with a modern design of the room and ceiling-to-floor windows with a balcony. The furniture had a sleek design. Beige, white, and navy blue made up the color scheme of the place. It truly looked like a nice penthouse apartment. To the right was a kitchenette and to the left were navy blue doors that Seokmin could guess led to the bedroom. He went to explore more while Joshua thanked and tipped the employee who carried their bags. When he got to the bedroom, he noticed there was one king sized bed with a flat screen TV across from it and nightstands on either side.

Oh…

Joshua also went to the bedroom and saw the reason why Seokmin was standing still by the door.

“God, I told them two beds. How did they mess this up? I’m gonna see if they have another room available,” Joshua sighed as he left the room.

“Shua wait, it’s fine! I mean it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before,” he felt his face get hot as he said that. Luckily Joshua didn’t see. Joshua made sure that it was okay before taking his suitcase and placing it in a corner. He plopped on the bed and relaxed his body. Seokmin also set his stuff in the corner but didn’t know what to do next, so he awkwardly stood near the end of the bed.

“So, what’s the game plan?”

“Umm, today we can just relax and get something to eat for dinner. There’s a spa not too far that we can go to. If you don’t want to do that, we can go shopping, got to a few attractions that should still be open.”

“Ah, the spa sounds nice.”

“Ok then we can do that, get some dinner, and then whatever you want for the rest of the night.”

Why are you perfect? Seokmin thought to himself. They barely started the trip and Seokmin was already falling in love again with Joshua.

Woah, wait love? Seokmin didn’t think his crush would evolve into love. Well, he guessed it was love. Sure, he’s said ‘I love you’ to him a thousand times, but that was just platonic love, a friendly saying. What he felt now was more than that. Something that made him warm and fuzzy inside. Something that he had to sit with and he was fine with that. He didn’t expect to feel this way. He didn’t feel the typical butterflies in his stomach that people always talked about. Honestly, he never really understood that anyway. Right now, he felt content. He felt at home somehow.

Joshua felt like home.

Loving Joshua felt like comfort.

For the rest of the day, the men enacted their plans. Seokmin really enjoyed the bougie spa. It was relaxing and he came out a new man, glowing skin and all. They then went to a really nice restaurant. Nice as in it looked nice. The portions were too small for Seokmin and he was sure that it would probably take about four or five meals just for him to feel full.

After dinner, they took a walk around the area and just enjoyed the sounds of the busy city. It was a great night for the both of them and Seokmin couldn’t wait to see what the plan was for the rest of the trip.

As both men got ready for bed, Seokmin went back to the thought of them sharing the bed. He could just sleep on the couch, but he’s sure that Joshua would fight him for it. Also, it didn’t look that comfortable. They might as well share the large bed, it’s not like they haven’t before. Seokmin was the first to lay down and had his back to the other man.

“I can put up a wall if that’s more comfortable.”

“It’s fine Joshua.” He turned around to face him. “How many times have we been in the same bed without barriers?”

“That was when we were younger.”

Seokmin rolled his eyes. “Just get in bed. I can be your big spoon if you want,” he joked.

Joshua rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile. He grabbed his pillow and hit the jokester. Seokmin used his arms to protect his face and laughed at Joshua’s reaction.

“For one, we all know I’m the big spoon. And two, shut up.”

“I can easily be big spoon. I’ve been working out.”

“That doesn’t mean anythi-”

“Yes it does! I’m strong now.”

“You still like being a baby.”

“Lies,” Seokmin crossed his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes. The pout didn’t help his argument and Joshua noted that. Seokmin ended the conversation by turning his back to Joshua again. With that, they settled and let sleep take over.

The next day was a busy one. They stayed in bed for a while, ordering room service instead of going downstairs for breakfast. They eventually got ready close to noon and headed out to the stores. Seokmin had to stop Joshua from buying him stuff that he would pick up and put back. Some stuff he still bought him though.

After shopping, they got lunch and took him to his friend’s music shop. The place was filled with vinyls and CDs in the front, and instruments in the back. Joshua took him straight to the back and they played around. Of course, Joshua played Sunday Morning on one of the guitars. Seokmin jokingly told him that he would leave the store right now, but he would never since he loved Joshua’s voice. They stayed there for a while and then went back to the hotel to get ready for the night. Joshua didn’t say where exactly they were going, but to just dress nice. Did he have to wear a full suit? Hopefully not because he packed nothing that fancy.

The car taking them to their destination was outside when the men were ready. The place wasn’t too far and when they pulled up, Seokmin was confused but excited.

“The theater,” Seokmin asked as Joshua helped him out of the vehicle.

“Yep. Look up.”

As instructed, Seokmin looked up to see what they were going to watch.

He couldn’t believe it.

“YOU GOT US TICKETS FOR WICKED?”

Joshua laughed at Seokmin’s expression. Jaw dropped, eyes wide open.

“Of course I did. I know you’ve wanted to see this in person for a while. Now come on, let’s get our seats.”

Joshua had to drag him in and lead him to their seats after showing his tickets on his phone to get in. Seokmin couldn’t believe that the man sitting next to him took him all the way to New York just to see his favorite musical on Broadway. His whole body was vibrating with joy. As the show started, Seokmin was in his own world. The only thing he focused on was the show. The cast, the music, the set, everything. And he enjoyed all of it. The show was better than he could imagine. He’s seen others do the musical, he even had a chance to be a part of the musical in high school. However, seeing it on Broadway was different. Obviously, the production was way more expensive than what high schoolers could afford. They weren’t too far nor too close so he was able to absorb everything going on. Every song he mouthed the words to. He even knew every line of all the characters. This was probably the best experience he’s ever had.

After the show, Seokmin was still in awe of the musical. He sang all of his favorites on the way home and Joshua recorded some of the moments. He’s really glad that Seokmin loved his time, especially since this whole trip was not cheap, but anything for the one he loves.

They made it back to the hotel room and ordered room service. They stuffed their faces and drank up most of the bottle of wine they ordered as well. Seokmin kept recalling each moment of the musical, commenting on each and every detail that Joshua didn’t even notice. They migrated to the balcony, enjoying the cool breeze and the sounds of cars and pedestrians.

“If only I could go back to high school and do Wicked all over again. And just that moment cause the rest of high school was hell,” Seokmin sighed.

“What do you mean? I feel like I was there to make it more tolerable.”

“Yeah for like two years, and then you left me.”

“Did you want me to fail so you could catch up,” Joshua raised a brow.

“Not exactly.”

Joshua huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Well that wasn’t gonna happen. At least you had other friends.”

“Sure but they’re not you.”

Joshua looked at him. He didn’t know what to say to that so the two sat in silence. Joshua continued to stare at Seokmin’s side profile. The light of the city hit his face perfectly.

How can this man be any more beautiful?

He didn’t know if it was the mood or the wine (he doubts it since he has a good tolerance), but Joshua got the need to pour his heart out.

“Seokmin, what I tell you now, let’s not let it affect our relationship. I’ve kept it in for so long and now may not be the time but oh well.”

Seokmin looked over with a concerned look. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.. well not really cause I’m sweating bullets right now and my heart is practically trying to destroy my chest. But I have a confession.”

Joshua paused for a moment to calm down. Noticing this, Seokmin scooted closer to him and held his hand. He was patient with him and figured that whatever Joshua was going to tell him may change their lives. For better or for worse, he’ll have to wait to see. Joshua closed his eyes and let the words spill out.

“I love you.”

“Shua.. I love you too-”

“Well I don’t mean like that.. I mean like… I love you more than I would a friend. I said this whole speech like a while ago but you were sleeping. I’ve wanted to tell you for years but I was too afraid. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, we can just forget this happened and enjoy the rest of the trip. But I just wanted you to know that I’ve loved you for years and I still do.”

Seokmin was silent for a second, processing the words told to him. Joshua took it for rejection and looked away from him.

“Shua-”

“And you don’t have to love me back. I just needed you to know-”

Joshu didn’t realize what was happening until he felt something soft on his lips, a warmth close to his face.

Lips. That’s what he felt against his own.

He felt fingers caressing his chin and Seokmin’s other hand still holding his.

He couldn’t believe that Seokmin was kissing him right now. He felt like his younger self experiencing his first kiss. Just in shock, too frozen to kiss back. He really should kiss back or this would be awkward. Or maybe not because he did confess. But it still could be because he’s NOT KISSING BACK. With that realization, he went to kiss Seokmin back but before he could, the man pulled away.

“Wai-”

“I love you too.” This made Joshua’s freeze again, eyes going wide. Joshua’s heart grew in size, his cheeks and ear slowly turning red. Finally, he was able to tell his best friends his feelings and they were returned. He was a little speechless and prevented himself from grabbingSeokmin and showering him with love and affection. He could tear up right now. He didn’t but he could. He stayed silent to let Seokmin finish what he was going to say.

“I’ve also felt this way for a while. Honestly, I’ve had a crush on you since we met and there’s no telling when that turned into love. But I want to be with you. I’m sorry that you kept this in all this time.”

“Yeah. I’m kind of surprised you haven’t noticed.”

“Eh, I had a feeling until you set me up with your seatmate before Valentine’s Day.”

“Well, you kept talking to me about her, I had to.”

Seokmin rolled his eyes and turned away from the man, but Joshua turned his head and kissed his cheek. Joshua was amused at his attitude, knowing that Joshua had a point. He kissed his other cheek, then his nose, and finally his lips. Of course Seokmin returned it with the same energy. They pulled away and stared into each others’ eyes, the sounds of the city enveloping them once again.

“So, what now?”

“Well, I would say let’s go on a date, but technically this trip is one big date.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that. You kind of kidnapped me and we just confessed so you have to properly ask.” Joshua gave him a look at that, so close to leaving him out on this balcony. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Menace.”

tag you’re it: @sunnytaes @wooyussy @simpracha @bunnypig18

[that-bitttch]

Hidden Truth- extract

Hi All, Beanie here, with chapter one of my newest fic complete! I wanted to post an extract here, so people can see if they want to read it, and just to get opinions on my writing style! Hope you all enjoy it! It is a BSD fic, and it is going to be quite dark, just a warning! It is why I am not posting it fully on here, and only an extract!

Warnings for the extract/chapter one- Canon typical warnings. M*ri is his own warning. Child abuse. minor character death (OC of Dazai's mother).

-Beanie :)

Chapter One:

Dazai was nine when he first crossed paths with Mori, and in his opinion, that was the mistake that sealed his fate. Rain was gently drizzling, and it was early enough in the morning for the usual bustle of people to be missing. It was quiet, which Dazai found, he did not mind at all. When it was loud that meant people were around, and with people came pain. At least, that was his experience with life. 

His early years were filled with suffering, much like his future. Born in the poorer side of town, Dazai was extremely familiar with the feelings of hunger and cold, of getting into scraps for clean water. He had no issue with this, for at least he had clothes, and a roof over his head.

No, instead it was his father that he despised. For the most part, he had abandoned his mother and him, leaving them to rot. Used and abused. The only reason Dazai had even met the man was because a DNA test was taken for him the second his mother claimed who the father was on her deathbed. And what a revelation that was, to discover. Tsushima Oboro was his name, and at the time of their meeting, he was the infamous boss of Yokohama's Port Mafia. Crazy, and feared by many, there was nothing that man would not do.

Dazai’s mother was a prostitute, barely making ends meet when the two.. Met. She became a favourite of his, because of her doe eyes and curly hair, and they met so frequently that she managed to get just enough in her savings to help her survive until after her pregnancy, when she could begin to work again. When Tsushima discovered the pregnancy, he grew bored of her, and moved on to another girl. She then raised Dazai under her maiden name, rather than be associated with the Tsushima name, which he grew up to be very thankful of.

His mother was the first, and one of the few, that Dazai could ever honestly say he loved in his life. She cared for him, and loved him, and protected him. She provided for him, and suffered so he would not. He spent his mornings trotting after her, as she cleaned and did general housework, and taught him. She encouraged his active mind, and stole upper class newspapers for him to study once he outgrew her level. She gave warm hugs, and loved to sing whenever she could. She was kind and sassy and he loved her with everything he had.

Which was why it was so devastating when she died. Dazai was eight, and despite his young age, understood exactly what had happened. There was no funeral, no other mourners, and Dazai was distraught. He never did discover how she died, but he had a few guesses. He did not have time to mourn for long though, much to his anger. For Tsushima had decided he was to be taken in, and moulded to be the perfect heir, as he had no other children. 

It was horrible, at the time, to be in his place. Admittedly, later, he would find himself longing, for those days were more bearable, but for the moment, all he wanted was to leave. His mother was gone, and he had never felt so alone. There was no singing, no lively presence. Instead, he was placed in the care of a madman, and his men. At least he had Hirotsu, he supposed, trying to look out for him whenever he could. 

Tsushima was cruel, and not just to people who wronged him. The slightest instance could set him into a rage, and God forbid anyone get in his way then. His favourite target in those moods was Dazai, whom he inflicted beatings and pain under the guise of training. Lashes, and stabbings, and baseball bats to his bones. He even gave him a concussion so bad that he lost most of the sight in his eye, and that is where his use of bandages came in. Dazai found himself losing all of his will to live, with every passing day, and becoming apathetic to everyone’s plights. He spent his days reading, or training, or playing chess with Hirotsu. 

He spent his time like this for a year, until he decided he was done with it. He was sheltered for the most part, with only his fathers trusted advisors and men for training knowing of him, and Dazai was bored. What meaning was there to this lowly life, of pain and boredom? He had nothing. 

It was this that led him to where the story truly begins, on a rainy day, on a quiet bridge. He had slipped past the guards, with a knife he stole from the kitchens. He would have just jumped from the roof, but unfortunately for him, the rooftop was fenced, and he was too small to yet climb them. Hence, his next best option, slitting his wrists. He had sat on the edge, with the blood pouring, dripping down into the water below, when he was found by the doctor himself. 

“I see you have found yourself in a slight predicament, young one,” the Doctor had said, stepping closer, under Dazai’s watchful eye, and frowning down at his bloody wrists. Holding out a hand, he stayed until Dazai had agreed to give him his arms, and he proceeded to clean and bandage them. Apparently, he had not cut deep enough for it to be a big enough problem, which was a shame, but it meant it was over with quickly. 

Later, Dazai would realise that their meeting was not, in fact, accidental, merely staged as part of Mori’s plan to usurp his father. But for the moment, he was curious about this strange doctor who did not ask for anything, who showed some odd concern, who did not ask questions. He let him make polite conversation, even if he did not respond himself, and found out his name, Mori Ougai. Who worked for his father as his doctor, and that he had recognised him from a photograph when he helped with the DNA testing.

And with that meeting, the wheels of fate were set into motion, with step one of Mori’s plan complete, and Dazai’s interest piqued. This is his first mistake.

[icequeenbae]

Snapshot (m) | BBH

Pairing: photographer!Baekhyun x idol!Reader

Sequel: Shot Though the Heart (m)

Photographer AU, PWP, angsty, smut

Warnings: explicit content, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, some unrequited feelings, fuckboy!Baek(?)

Word Count: ~3k

Summary: You and Baekhyun are left alone in the private pool area at a fancy hotel for a steamy photoshoot. It ends up getting even steamier when he realizes your white swimsuit is actually lingerie.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s note: It’s been a crazy few months, sweethearts, but Ri is back! And since my b-day is in a few days and it's yay time I come bearing gifts^^ As usual, I thank my lovely @baekshoney for keeping up with me and reading all of my relentless writing! This is something I produced a while ago, and I have no idea why I suddenly wanted to write something about photographer!Baek… But I hope it was worth the wait for you~

Btw, you didn’t hear it from me(!) but also may or may not be the first of X installments if you enjoy it, so don’t forget to comment/ reblog!

Tags: @exo-writers-net @bbh-net @superm-net

‘The lights are fine like this,’ Baekhyun nodded at the staff just as you walked onto the set.

It smelled like chlorine, and perfume, and also sweat – the latter most likely coming off of the workers, who were still busy organizing the space. But mostly chlorine, just like any other swimming pool.

‘Is everything ready?’ Your manager asked, glancing at the personnel finishing up the preparations.

‘Yes,’ Baekhyun responded, giving your robe a brief, almost indifferent onceover before greeting you with a short. ‘Y/N.’

‘Baekhyun.’ You acknowledged him, looking away to examine the area absentmindedly.

The concept of this photoshoot was somewhat new to you. What you did with your group was vastly different to what you were doing solo, and you were the one in favor of making the distinction. Acting all cute with the girls was fun, but you were getting older and, frankly, tired of such antics. With your solo work, you preferred to tap into your darker side.

And this time you were planning to make it almost obscenely sexy.

The photoshoot was for one of the top fashion magazines in Korea, and they were dedicating several full spreads to your new album and long-term shiny partnerships with luxurious brands. You were going all in for this, and it was a wonder that you even got the concept approved. This was going to be way hotter than anything you’d done before.

Baekhyun spoke to your manager, and then addressed the entire room.

‘Alright, everything seems to be in order. Please empty the space now, thank you!’

Everyone scurried away, and in a minute, there was just you, your manager, and Baekhyun left.

‘You too,’ the photographer motioned at the door. ‘I don’t think she can relax with you watching from the sidelines like a creep.’

‘And she can in front of you?’ The other man tsked. ‘I’m staying.’

Before this escalated any further (with men being men), you intervened.

‘It’s fine, wait for me in the lobby. It would be easier if we’re alone.’

Baekhyun’s mouth twisted in a smirk, you swore you saw it before he turned away to tend to his camera. Feigning indifference, how cool of him.

‘But-’

‘We’ve worked together before. It’s fine. It’ll be more comfortable if only the necessary people are present.’

‘Alright.’ Your manager agreed, expression tentative. ‘But I’m one call away.’

You nodded. As if you’d call him in case Baekhyun actually did something inappropriate.

He was quick to leave, closing the door quietly behind him, probably somewhat happy to have a break with how busy your schedule was getting lately.

The silence was loud now that it was just the two of you. You tried focusing on the gentle sounds of stirring water, but there was no one in the pool, hence the water was almost still. It looked pretty, light blue — a color that reminded you of the glamorous Maldives beaches. Like most people, you’d much rather have a photoshoot there. There’s always next time…

‘Do you need help getting undressed?’ A voice in your ear startled you out of your thoughts.

Baekhyun stood close, only minimal distance between you, and you barely collected yourself before a visible shiver could take over your body. Instead, you retorted with a cheeky comment.

‘You seem eager.’

The photographer chuckled, brushing the strands away from your ear before leaning even closer.

‘You know I am.’

With that, you could only hope that he couldn’t see the goosebumps on your skin. The swiftness and irrevocability of your reactions to him were discomfiting.

‘Keep it in your pants, Byun.’ You said, trying to sound cold.

It was only semi-successful.

‘For now,’ he responded playfully, stepping away to watch you shake off your robe from a better angle. ‘I’ll never get tired of watching you strip.’

You rolled your eyes. Strip. Of course, that would be his word of choice.

‘Let’s get down to business.’

Turning around, you caught him staring shamelessly at your butt. He licked his lips before his eyes traveled to yours, and smiled, pleased to make a pun out of your words.

‘Let’s. Get down.’

It wasn’t easy for you to stay neutral. The set was quite intimate, and you were barely wearing anything, all while he was fully clothed. You were thankful to see him change his usual attire to something a bit more relaxed and well-suited for the setting. He wore shorts instead of oversized pants, and his feet were bare by the time you were ready to begin.

His hair was very different too. Last time you saw him, he had a mess of dark locks on his head. This time, however, he was blonde, with temples trimmed neatly. Somehow, this style sharpened his features, yet softened his look in general.

A few times in the course of the shoot you caught yourself staring, while he was flipping through the pics or adjusting the settings. You weren’t supposed to give him the pleasure, you made this promise to yourself prior to this shoot.

But it was getting so much more complex as the work progressed. You were now getting into water, first dipping your feet into it, then stretching out on the underwater stair-step.

Baekhyun was attentive and great at commanding you whenever you worked together. The results were always perfect, and your agency kept requesting him for more and more of their artists. He was a big name in the industry, not the best reputation, however. This man was the definition of a fuckboy, yet he somehow managed to miss the focal point of today’s event. Or your today’s outfit, to be precise.

It wasn’t your stylist who chose your clothing for today, it was you. And you knew exactly what you were doing, wearing a thin top and high-waist bottoms in white.

‘Good girl,’ he murmured in his usual fashion, looking through the last few shots. ‘Go deeper and get your tits wet. It’ll look good when you lean forward on deck.’

His suggestion made you smirk internally. Oh yes, it’d make you look pretty damn good. There was no doubt about that.

Doing as you were told, you swam to the spot where the depth of the pool was most suitable for your getting-out maneuver. It was rather shallow, and the level only reached your waist.

‘I’m going in from the side,’ Baekhyun announced, getting in the water with you. ‘Try to do it slowly, I’ll get a few angles.’

You nodded curtly.

‘Go ahead.’ He signaled for you to start, and you leaned forward, chest rising from the water.

It wasn’t visible because of your arms in front of you, but as you pulled yourself out of the water slowly, your chest opened fully to the outside world.

‘Yeah, that’s good, that’s g-’ The abrupt end of his casual phrase sent giddy excitement through you. ‘Y/N.’

‘Hm?’ You hummed as you climbed out and sat down at the edge of the pool, legs still half-submerged in water.

His eyes were on you now, scanning your body with covetous inquiry in real-time.

‘What the hell is this, honey?’

The pet names. You both hated and loved when he used them on you. The former because they were fake, and the latter… because they meant he was getting aroused.

Looking down innocently, you splashed the water with your foot.

‘What?’

He placed the camera away from the damp area before stepping closer to you and catching you by the ankle.

‘Don’t ‘what’ me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.’

Yes, you did know. He was talking about your see-through top. White tended to get half-transparent when you got in the water, and you wore unpadded lingerie instead of a proper swimsuit for a reason. To drive him crazy.

‘Didn’t you say that you wanted it to be professional?’ He reminded, getting even closer and circling the well-rounded areola with his thumb through the dank fabric while his other hand rested right by your thigh.

Yesterday.

That was the text you sent him when he told you he couldn’t wait to see you again. Maybe you even meant it at the time… You weren’t sure. Still, that wasn’t something you would care to admit to his face.

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ You smirk, finally looking him in the eye.

It took him a second to assess your response. And then he surged forward, pressing his lips to yours. You allowed him entrance into your mouth, and ran your fingers through his hair. They felt a bit crisper than they did last time, and you belatedly realized that he styled them ardently for today.

He broke the kiss first, telling you to move up.

‘Actually, get on the lounger. I wanna see everything.’

You chuckled, plopping onto one right as he got out of the pool. His shirt was sticking to his body, and his shorts looked like there was something going on in them. Too early to call it a boner, but you were satisfied with how things progressed.

‘Spread.’

His instructions were laconic, and you licked your lips in building anticipation.

Opening your legs, you observed as he tongued his cheek in frustration… of a pleasant kind.

‘It’s like you’re naked while you aren’t.’ He kneeled between your legs, looking right at your center. ‘Intriguing…’

His middle finger rubbed between your labia, pressing the moist fabric to your delicate skin. You knew he could very well see everything, yet having the thin layer between your skin and his felt like that final frontier. However easy it was to tear it down.

‘But I much prefer you genuinely naked.’

You lifted your butt eagerly to help him rid you of your panties. The skin underneath was damp, even more so than the rest of your body, and the direct contact with the air made you shiver.

‘Getting cold, baby?’ He asked in a sugary tone, lifting your leg up to place over his shoulder. ‘I can keep you warm.’

His tongue was scorching on your skin, and you gasped as he licked a quick stripe up. You looked down, meeting his eyes while his mouth explored your folds. His gaze was sinful. And so was his tongue, flattening out and rubbing fervently against your clit.

‘Baekhyun…’ You whispered, lost in the sensation too quickly.

He was way too good at this. And you knew that. He went down on you almost every time you’d had sex before. And every time you surveyed his face between your legs, he looked like he was exactly where he belonged. Humming in content as you squealed and shook in his hands, desperately gasping for air as he ate you out. He was noisy about it, too. No decency whatsoever.

‘Fuck-’ He swore before planting a kiss right below your most sensitive spot. ‘I could do this for hours. I’m so addicted to your pussy.’

‘We don’t have hours,’ you nudged him breathlessly. ‘Just shove your dick inside me.’

Baekhyun snickered, palming himself on autopilot.

‘I like the way you think, love.’

Before you came up with a snappy response, he tugged his shorts down and gave himself a few determined pumps. You gulped, watching his delicate hand flex, veins becoming more prominent as he moved it up and down his thick flesh.

‘Lie back down. No need to give me those greedy eyes of yours.’

You wanted to argue, but the press of his tip to your clit was simply too overwhelming. Moving down slightly to accommodate him, you lay flat on your back. The incline of the sunbed was perfect for Baekhyun’s position in front of you, so he leaned in, penetrating you slowly. Only as he sheathed himself fully inside, you realized how much you’d missed feeling him like this. You’d only ever met on occasion, and each time… you were simply too weak for him. Although you knew you’d walk away with an unpleasant throbbing in your chest, and this encounter would be on your mind for weeks to come.

Every time you found yourself merely thinking about his proximity, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. He had you wrapped around his finger, and you had no idea how to escape his charm. The magnetic pull, the power he had over you that you couldn’t battle. Even while knowing what he was like.

You felt sick afterwards, thinking that once again you became ‘another model’ in his list. It was obvious he didn’t think of this nearly as much as you did, and while you always played it cool with him, making it look like you were the one using him as your boytoy… In reality, it was you who craved at least fleeting contact with him.

Yet the price was incredibly high.

Your heart broke a little with every rendezvous. And despite his passionate thrusts driving you to your high with unfailing consistency, the moment you go your separate ways it’d feel like your soul was torn out of you again.

Did you have one anymore?

‘Y/N…’ Baekhyun’s pant ripped you out of the vacuum of your mind. ‘You feel even better than I remember. I wish I’d get to fuck you somewhere you could be loud at…’

That had never happened before. During all of your previous hookups you had to sneak around and keep it down. Those were mostly in hotels and… your dressing room. You’d learned to control your sound, because getting found out wasn’t an option. The kind of mess that would’ve followed had someone busted you… that you weren’t even willing to imagine.

‘Fuck,’ your lover grunted again before looking you in the eye. ‘You already close?’

‘Yes.’ The answer was short but filled with anticipation.

The sleek sounds your pussy produced as he continued moving his thighs were a clear indication of how ready you were to come. He made sure you did. Sometimes more than once. But you usually had very limited time together, so it wasn’t always on the table.

‘Good girl,’ he hummed, keeping a rough, steady rhythm. ‘Shit, I’m gonna come as soon as you do…’

He groaned this last part into your lips before giving you a deep kiss. Like always, he knew exactly when your orgasm was about to hit you. The muffled sounds you produced echoed off the tall walls of the area, and he held your mouth hostage for another minute before letting you take a breath.

The sudden desire to taste more of him overpowered your rational mind, so you blurted out the only thing that floated in your mind right now.

‘Don’t soil me.’ You barely managed to say that out loud before he grunted in initiating release.

He still pulled out, and you slid onto the floor quicker than he could even realize what was going on. Taking over, you jerked him off yourself, leaning down to catch each drop of his come in your mouth. Getting carried away, you didn’t even take note of his fingers in your hair. Sucking on his tip diligently as he choked up a groan, you made sure that you had all of his cum before giving him a couple concluding licks.

Wiping your mouth clean, you sat back down on the lounger. Baekhyun was still on his knees in front of you, breathless and dazed by your sudden leap, and you picked up your wet underwear to put it back on. As soon as you reclined, you heard a click.

He snapped a picture of you.

‘The heck?’ You frowned, caught off guard.

‘The sight is too mesmerizing to not perpetuate,’ he said, getting poetic out of the blue. ‘You’re beautiful, Y/N.’

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you instantly became defensive, sneering pettily in an unsuccessful attempt to cover it up.

‘Is that what you tell every model you fuck?’

He gave you a mischievous grin that only made you feel worse.

‘I definitely have it for the pretty ones. But you’re my favorite.’

Swallowing the bitterness in your mouth, you only hummed in response.

You could very well tell that you were. From what you’d heard before, he wasn’t the type to have sex with the same girl twice to avoid attachment. But it wasn’t the first time that you’d had sex with him. In fact, he’d had you sprawled underneath him on numerous occasions after (or during) some other photoshoots and events, where you’d crossed paths before.

But it was just that. Some brief fucking before your ways parted again for months. And as much as you wanted to put an end to the disconcerting dynamics between you two, you couldn’t. He was just too good at luring you in, and you were wandering into his trap willingly.

‘My offer still stands, honey. I’d date the hell out of you if you said yes.’

This wasn’t the first time he offered and you kept declining.

You truly wanted to put an end to your endless ‘get-togethers’, so actually agreeing to officially date him wasn’t part of your plan. Even though he was the one suggesting that, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you heard about him and a random young actress, or some other model that he fucked casually after a shoot. You had no intention of going through that. What you had right now wasn’t healthy, yet it was safer. For your emotional state.

Pushing your real feelings deeper down, you gave him a wry smile.

‘Don’t get greedy. Too much of a good thing is good for nothing.’ You got up and put your robe back on, giving him an almost flirty glance over one shoulder. ‘I hope you got some good shots. See you around, Baekhyun.’

He didn’t respond to that, only watching you walk away from him. You could feel his eyes boring into your back as you reached the door.

Baekhyun didn’t need to know that your feet were heavy as lead with every step you took away from him.

Unpacking the fresh copy of the magazine issue a few weeks later, you found out that the last picture he snapped of you ended up on the cover. A snapshot of your illicit passion’s aftermath.

Shot Though the Heart (m)

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading~ I hope you liked their chem! More of these two crossing paths, anyone? Don't forget authornim over here loves writing sequels and mini-series. But she also cannot read your minds, if you know what I mean hehe