#I want little mini stop motion room now

[ultra-phthalo]

Junk Head Set Building

Watched this years ago and it doesn't get old. I just love the amount of dedication that was put into this hyper realistic stop motion set. The railings have rust on them. And there's enough space to stand up and lie down in some places.

[rileyslibrary]

hello! So you know about those like music boxes with the ballerinas on top? what if reader has a plain music box and decides to put a mini painted simon riley on it and reader gets caught playing with the custom music box

Please and thank you!

There you go, anon! Hope you like it!

———————————————————————

You recline on your assigned bed, head cradled in one hand while the other fiddles with the box in front of you. Work has been sluggish lately—a good thing, considering the nature of your job. Yet, despite the break, your hands ache for the action they’ve been accustomed to—pulling triggers, disarming bombs, rescuing comrades and civilians. Now, they remain idle, bored, and without purpose.

For that reason, you finally decided to address a long-delayed project you’ve postponed for ages: restoring your grandmother’s worn-down ballerina music box. Time has taken its toll on it, with splinters jutting from the once-smooth surface. The paint, once vibrant, had either chipped away in places or surrendered entirely, leaving bare patches to the sides and on the lid. Even the ballerina inside, once gracefully twirling, had been frozen in time. It begged for your attention and care.

And that’s exactly what you did.

You fixed the mechanism inside, stripped away the original paint, sanded the box down and diligently repainted it, using whatever colours you managed to salvage—some leftover black varnish that had been used to paint the fence around the base, green paint from the mechanics who use it for the military vehicles and a ghastly olive hue colour you have no idea of its purpose, nor you want to know.

As you turn the key, the music box releases its familiar melody, drawing your attention to the figure twirling within. Gone is the ballerina’s delicate face. Now it’s replaced by a meticulously painted skull balaclava closely resembling Ghost. The once pink bodysuit has transformed into a scaled-down tactical vest with detailed features, mirroring the real deal—knives, magazines, and even a tourniquet secured on the shoulder. The ballerina’s bare legs now sport camo leggings, and her ballet shoes have been upgraded to sturdy combat boots. The tutu couldn’t be removed since it was part of the ballerina’s body, so you left it as it was and painted it black.

You turn the key again and let it go, watching the lieutenant twirl. Your gaze is fixed on the figure as you find yourself entranced, occasionally poking at the lieutenant’s hand to halt the motion and releasing it to begin twirling again.

And as you do it one more time, the door opens, and the real, life-sized lieutenant pokes his head through the opening. He scans the entire room until it settles on you

“Is it you making that noise?” he asks.

“Noise?” you ask back. “That’s Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky.”

“I don’t care what it is,” he replies. “Either turn it off or turn the volume down.”

“Well, I can’t turn the volume down,” you say, pointing at the box.

“I gave you two options if I remember correctly,” he says, tilting his head to the side. He narrows his eyes, now focused on the box, and approaches the bed with his hand extended towards you. “Give me that.”

“No!” You retort and hug the box close to your chest. “Why should I give it to you?”

“Because I said so,” he whispers, pointing with his finger. “Now. Give. Me. The. Box.”

You sigh and roll your eyes but comply with his demand. You close the box, which triggers the music to stop and hand it over to Ghost.

He holds it to his side for a second, then lifts it to his eye level. He looks at it all around and, with a swift motion, lifts the lid.

The music starts playing again, and the mini-lieutenant resumes his little dance. Ghost stands there with the box in his hands, watching the figurine until it stops moving. He looks at you, then at the box. He turns the box towards you so you can look at the figurine and points at it.

“That’s me,” he states, triggering three nods from you.

“I was bored,” you explain, shrugging, “so I decided to refurbish my grandma’s antique ballerina box with whatever I found at the base.”

“I can see that,” he whispers, turning around the box. “Maintenance support didn’t have a colour closer to fuchsia?”

“Unfortunately, no,” you reply, following his sarcastic tone. “They ran out.”

“Poor grandma and poor ballerina,” he says, pointing again at his mini-self. “Why did you turn her into that?”

“What do you mean ‘into that’?” you ask, pointing at the box. “That’s you.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims, turning the box around to look at the figurine better. “Plus, it doesn’t look like me at all.”

“Why?” you ask, wincing. “Is it the tutu?”

“No,” he says, slowly looking at you and tilting his head. “What gave you that impression?”

You chuckle at his response. “What is it then?”

He holds the box to the side so you can look at the figurine and himself.

“Look,” he says, spreading his other hand to the side. “It’s too skinny to be me.”

“Hmmm, I can’t tell from where I’m sitting…” you murmur, scratching your chin as you examine both of them. “How about you make a quick pirouette for me?”

“How about I make you pirouette all the way to the Captain?” He asks, as he lifts one eyebrow and closes the box.

He motions with his other hand at you to stand up. “Get ready for training,” he states and shakes the box. “This comes with me.”

“No, Lt.!” You shout, “That’s mine!”

“Well, it has my bloody face in there, doesn’t it?” He says. “Plus, I can’t have you playing that music in the base; it’s scaring the others.”

“Scaring the others?” You protest, and your eyes widen. “I’m scaring grown-ass men who kill for a living?”

“Not you,” he replies as he walks towards the exit and lifts the box in the air. “But that bloody Tchaikovsky is.”

———————————————————————

[cas-kingdom]

The Night Shift

A/N: First NCIS fic! Decided to keep my OC's name instead of reader as I'm pretty attached to her.

If you're alone on V Day, here's some Gibbs. <3

Title: The Night Shift

Summary: What's worse than a sick Gibbs? A sick mini Gibbs.

Words: 2568

It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was tired.

She wrinkled her nose as something tickled at it and sat up to reach for the packet of tissues sitting dutifully by the pillow.

It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was sick and tired.

Tony, the shit-stirrer that he was, leaned precariously back in his swivel chair to stare at her. If it weren’t for the squeak of the chair itself, she still would have noticed his sudden attention by the feeling of his eyes boring into her for perhaps the tenth time since they’d set up camp in the NCIS building about five hours ago. He was relentless.

Emmie paused. Tissue wedged in her nose, sinuses burning, she looked up and stared at him. Tony rose an eyebrow. Emmie hardened her stare. Tony, because he was Tony, purposefully leaned further back so she could see the exact moment he dramatically cupped a hand to his stupid little mouth and—

“Giiibbs!”

Emmie’s jaw tensed. Tony grinned in superfluous victory.

Another squeak, a more familiar one this time, and Gibbs’s swivel chair glided along the carpeted floor around the divider between the cubicles until he could see Emmie. She was still sitting up, looking quite the sight with a tissue halfway up her right nostril and her hair sticking at all angles. On any other day she would have responded to Tony’s pure gall by glaring him straight into the ground. But today was not that day. Today was a bad day. Today, her week-long, just-about-bearable cold had decided to manifest into sinusitis, and she’d woken with a face that felt as though tiny little men were mining for gold in her skull. Ducky had liked that metaphor.

Partly because she was absolutely awful at caring for herself when she was ill, and partly—mostly—because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on work if she was left to fend for herself at home, Gibbs had dragged Emmie into the office with him. She’d made her rounds all day—curled up on Abby’s little couch at first, then bundled off to an empty room when Abby found working in silence too impossible. At lunchtime, a meeting had been scheduled in the room, and she’d been forced to accompany Gibbs and Tony in the car to a naval base connected to the case they were working on, sniffling and groaning in the back seat like a Victorian child on her death bed.

And here she was now, at two a bloody m, lying on an ungodly amount of blankets, wrapped in Gibbs’s jacket and Tony’s hoodie, on the floor, feeling like her body was readying to explode. Life couldn’t get worse.

Unless you were acquainted with Tony DiNozzo. In which case, life could, and most certainly would, get worse.

Gibbs dipped his head and rose an eyebrow at Emmie. Emmie couldn’t do much in her defence but sniff. Hard. A slight protest only she had the guts to attempt. It was when he pointed a finger at her and motioned with it for her to lie down again that Emmie tossed her arms up.

“Do you know—” Another sniff—“Do you even know how hard it is to lie down and feel your sinuses drain into your throat?” Her voice was so nasally she couldn’t sound stern, even if she put every ounce of effort into it.

Tony, naturally, did not try hard to cover his amusement at that. He snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, spinning from side to side absently in his chair with the tip of his tongue held between his smirking lips when Emmie turned narrowed eyes on him.

“I was getting a tissue, FYI,” she said to him and only him. “So, you can stop being a kiss ass, Anthony.”

“Emmie.” Gibbs disappeared behind the divider again. “Back to sleep.”

Tony, meanwhile, gaped. “Kiss ass who?”

Emmie ignored him and shuffled back down again. She shut her eyes and swallowed. Already the disgusting stuff had decided the place it wanted to be right now was her stomach, and was meandering slowly down her throat towards it.

“You were being a bit of a kiss ass,” she heard Gibbs agree.

“Oh, come on. You said you wanted her to sleep!”

“Yeah, and I do.”

“But you’re gonna call me a kiss ass when I tell you she’s not sleeping? Kiss my ass.”

“What was that?”

“Sorry, Boss.”

In all honesty, there was nothing more that Emmie wanted least right now than to sleep. True, she was exhausted, but the part of her brain not currently still enshrouded in said exhaustion wanted to be up and active again, helping Gibbs with the case like her internship allowed.

And yet, the man still believed she needed her head on a pillow.

The team had been working on a case all day, one she didn’t know the specifics of. It wasn’t exactly often that they stayed in the office well into the night to continue their current case, but it appeared Gibbs had a weird feeling about this one. From the snippets of conversation that she’d picked up and actually retained in her decrepit brain, a potential witness was lying unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere, and Gibbs wanted to speak to him the moment he woke up, which, according to the doctors, could be at any time. That apparently required the entire team to stay behind which, considering the fact Emmie was currently holed up on the floor of Ziva’s empty cubicle, not everyone had complied with.

The moment Tony got out of his chair to help Gibbs with something and disappeared from her line of sight, Emmie eased herself into a sitting position once more. She reached for the tissues again, rubbing at her leaking nose with the sleeve of Gibbs’s jacket and not possessing the brain power to regret that decision. She blew into a tissue, paused to catch her breath, then—

“Gibbs.”

Emmie deflated completely. Wow. The world truly hated her today.

She looked up to see McGee walking in with a bag of takeout. He barely glanced at her as he passed, choosing to instead spend that energy alerting Gibbs to the fact she was, again, not lying down.

Before either Tony or Gibbs could come into view once more, Emmie sighed, stuck two bits of tissue in both nostrils, and scooted backwards to sit against the wall.

“Can’t breathe lying down,” she said before anyone could say a single word. “And I’m tired of being tired. I don’t want to sleep anymore. Leave me alone. Don’t talk to me. Shush.”

Tony’s head appeared around the corner, and he snorted again. Then the squeak of Gibbs’s chair as he got up. A rustling. A moment later he appeared with a takeout box in his hand, walking towards her. He lifted it so she could see, and she groaned, shaking her head. A corner of Gibbs’s mouth lifted but he wasn’t about to back down on this fight. He never did.

He knelt in front of her, close enough to see the pallidness of her face and the slight sickly tremble of her small frame. Emmie visibly relaxed when he reached out a hand to press against her forehead, the coolness of his skin momentarily dowsing the heat of hers.

Gibbs checked the watch at his wrist. “Another couple hours and you can dose up again.”

“Thanks.”

“Yep. ‘Till then…” He went to withdraw his hand, but Emmie’s own hand shot up and pinned his to her forehead.

“No,” she said simply.

“No to my hand leaving, or food?”

“No.”

“You gotta eat. You know the drill. Eat or sleep.” She grumbled something and Gibbs reached with his free hand to lift the lid on the box. The smell of warm chicken soup filled the space between them, and Emmie wrinkled her nose. “Come on, kiddo. It’s only soup.”

“I feel too sick to eat.”

“Sleep it is, then.”

“Dad—”

“Hey. The cure for alll Emmie-related illness is sleep. Always has been, always will be.” It was true. Gibbs knew his daughter better than she knew herself, after all. Everyone was different, but Emmie’s medicine was sleep until she could look him in the eye and confidently tell him she felt a bit better. If years of being a single parent had taught him anything, it was that.

With a bit of reluctance, he pulled his hand from her head and leant forward on his toes. “You don’t have to lie down to sleep,” he told her. “Here—” Emmie wasn’t quite sure what he was doing with the pillows and blankets behind her, but when he sat back and she turned as much as her aching neck would allow, there was a nice little DIY upright-bed against the wall. Gibbs, seemingly proud of his work, was met with a look of absolute discontent on his daughter’s face.

He puffed his cheeks out and glanced at the soup. “Aeroplane?”

“Seriously?” Emmie deadpanned.

He reached for the spoon, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Worked when you were a kid.”

“There’re a few keywords in that sentence, Dad. Are you trying to give Tony more fuel to embarrass me?”

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder. Tony had returned to his desk, leaning dangerously back in his chair to gain the best vantage point. The man had absolutely zero shame.

Gibbs jerked his head. “Check with the hospital about Lupin, would you, DiNozzo?”

Tony visibly deflated. Emmie sent him a smug look and he stuck his tongue out. Reluctantly, he wheeled back to his desk and picked up the phone. “Do this, DiNozzo, do that, DiNozzo,” he grumbled to himself. “Oh, while you’re at it, why don’t you polish my boots and write a thesis on my intellectual prowess, DiNozzo? Sure, I’ll get right on it, Boss!” He dialled the number and put the phone to his ear. “Should I get your laundry and your coffee too, Boss? Should I do—hi, there! Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS, calling for an update on a patient? Ryan Lupin. Yeah, I’ll hold. Thanks.”

“Dad.” Such an exasperated voice could only belong to the resident invalid, and after only a second’s hesitation, Tony—slowly—wheeled himself back, as far as the cord to the phone still held against his ear would allow. Emmie and Gibbs were still on the floor, the former looking most disgruntled at the spoon in the latter’s hand.

“I’m being serious,” she said then.

“So am I,” Gibbs said, “very serious. I’m being very serious right now. Soup?”

Emmie rolled her eyes, but a smile was pulling at her lips all the same. She shook her head. “Go back to your desk, old man.”

Tony’s brows shot up and he grinned. “Oohoohoo!” He was close to rubbing his hands together in sheer glee. “You gonna let her get away with that, Boss?”

“Lupin, DiNozzo.”

“I’m on hold!” The fact that Gibbs made no sign that he was going to pick his daughter up on her insult, when Tony knew that if he’d been the one to call his boss elderly he’d be getting a bit more than a slap to the back of the head, hit a sore spot. “Wait,” he said, looking hilariously appalled, “you’re actually gonna let her get away with it?”

Gibbs, defeated in this part only, dropped the spoon back in the box and put it on the desk. “I’ve been called worse,” he called back, “believe me.”

“Grandpa,” Emmie said.

“Thank you, Em, that’s very helpful.”

“Ninnyhammer, pillock, douche canoe, old man—”

“You already said that one.” Gibbs chuckled. “Douche canoe?”

Emmie shrugged. “Dunderhead.”

“Alright.”

“Ugly…nut.”

“Jemima.”

McGee, who’d since been silently working and eating at his desk, paused. Mouth open, forkful of noodles on its way, he turned confused eyes to the ground.

“Her name’s Jemima?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “How long you been here McGee?”

As soon as Emmie looked the slightest bit like she was about to resume her name-calling, Gibbs put his palm over her mouth. He rose a brow in warning. She blinked. Blinked again. Then—

“Aw, come on!” Gibbs’s face contorted into one of absolute disgust as a rush of air and wet stuff flew at his hand. He withdrew it immediately, holding it away from him, while Emmie sniffed and nonchalantly used the jacket sleeve again.

“You little crapbag.” It was the best he could come up with.

“What? You think I plan my sneezes?”

Tony, up until now quite enjoying the performance, rolled quickly back to the desk with the phone at his ear. “Hi, yeah, I’m still here.”

Gibbs stood and walked briskly to his desk so he could grab the stack of napkins the takeout had come with. “I don’t doubt anything when it comes to you.”

“Thank you.” Emmie rubbed at her red eyes with her hand and slumped against the back of the wall. Gibbs, coating his hands with sanitizer, watched with a knowing eye. He shook his hands and walked back around to Ziva’s cubicle, perching on the desk to look down at her.

“You’re sick,” he said.

“I know. And?”

“And, sick people eat soup, and they sleep. Okay? They don’t stay up at all hours of the night—nooo, no, no. I’m talking now, kiddo. I know you’ve been sleeping all day, I know you wanna get up and back to work, but that’s not happening until your fever’s gone. No point in fighting that, and you know full well. Clear?”

Any other day. Any. Other. Day. The protests were practically clawing at her throat. But a sudden wave of nausea rushed over her and she backed down immediately. Still, the thought of lying down again was awful, and the tired eyes she turned on her dad somehow translated that.

Gibbs sighed. “What’s it gonna take, huh?” Emmie didn’t need to think about her answer to that. She wasn’t even sure her expression had changed at all when Gibbs shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “No,” he said, “come on, now. I gotta work.”

This time, she did change her expression, putting it on in the way she knew worked best. Gibbs, naturally, relented.

“Fine,” he said, motioning with his hands for her to move over. She did, though admittedly it was a bit of a pitiful move with her aching body. He breathed a short laugh but came to sit in the miniscule space she’d made beside her anyway.

“Thanks, douche canoe,” Emmie whispered.

Tony put the phone down. “Still knocked out, Boss,” he said, pushing his chair backwards. When he saw Gibbs on the floor, arm wrapped around his daughter, who had her head on his shoulder, he crossed his arms over his chest and positively pouted.

“Hey, why do you get to sleep?”

Gibbs chuckled and shut his eyes. “When you’ve got a sick kid, I’ll let you sleep on the office floor with her. Wake me before Lupin does, would you?”

“How am I—Boss? Boss?” Tony threw his arms up in the air and shook his head, grabbing a notebook from his desk to doodle in. “Kiss my ass.”

“Heard that.”

“I wanted you to.”

Well, one thing was for certain. Gibbs may have won this fight, but so had Emmie.

NCIS Masterpost

[kyufessions]

sweetheart

synopsis: your annoying neighbor bothers you yet again

pairings: neighbor! eric x afab! reader

genre: smut, 18+

request: “open your mouth” + “why so shy?”

word count: 2.2k

warnings: spitting, oral (f. receiving), making out, playful teasing, pet name (sweet heart), lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: i’m writing this half asleep so it’s not proofread whatsoever,, oopsies

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois @haechansbbg

tbz taglist: @ilovechanhee

Only if everyone knew. Only if everyone knew that the boy next door you always swore annoyed you to your very core since you had first moved in over ten years ago, would meet you in your old tree house that stood between both of your houses at ungodly hours. With what started as another night wanting to get away from one of your family’s parties, turned into heated makeout sessions that led to what anyone would imagine.

Throughout the years, your father had been kind enough to re-do the treehouse. Seeing as you still adored it, he re-vamped it to make it seem more private and to your liking since you were now in your early 20’s. There was even a small makeshift door and small windows with curtains that you often kept closed- it was your favorite place to get away from madness when your room wasn’t cutting it. That was- until one spring night.

You had been in your treehouse reading a new novel you had bought at your local barnes and nobles, your lamp on and one of curtains slightly open to enjoy the slight breeze. Tonight your parents had some guests over from work, their conversations and jazzy background music being too loud for your liking. So you quietly made your way to your treehouse and enjoying your time alone until you heard some rocks being thrown at the door. Groaning, you ignored the disturbance. You knew exactly who it was and you did not want to deal with him tonight. One more rock, two, even three more were thrown. Thats when you stood up and fully opened up the half drawn curtain, looking down to see the annoying boy next door.

He stood there with his devilish grin, wearing a white tank and his baseball varsity jacket from the college he attended. He waved hello as soon as he saw you looking down at him, catching a glimpse of you from the limited lighting. “What do you want eric?” you shouted down, making sure your voice was only able to be heard between you both and not to disrupt what was happening inside your home.

He shrugged, his grin never fading. “I’m bored.” as you rolled your eyes and started to pull back down the curtain, he yelled back out to you. “Wait!”

You shushed him right away, his voice too loud for your liking. As you motion for him to come up the wooden ladder, he does as instructed and you watch as he climbs up halfway before you stop him with your words. “What do you want?” you ask again, annoyance stringing through your voice.

His lips form another shit eating grin. “I’m bored and saw the light on.”

“Find someone else to bother.” you start to close the door but see his hand stop it from closing.

Before you can begin to speak up again, eric decides to first. “Come on, i’ll stay in the corner and let you do your own thing. I won’t bother you. I just don’t want to be in my house right now and am grounded from using my car.”

“Is no an option?” you ask him with a puff. With a swift shake of his head, you open the door fully and allow him inside.

He looks around in amazement at the fairy lights and overall set up, noticing how you plop back on the mini couch you have set up in the corner. His eyes scan over a small drawer with a chipped paint job, old drawings and paintings hanging throughout that’s barely holding on with tape and some nails. There are some obvious new items hanging about and some older ones, and he quietly takes note of that as he walks around to inspect. As he does so, you occasionally glance at him to make sure hes not touching anything he isn’t supposed to. After a little more snooping, he takes a seat on the floor and starts aimlessly scrolling through his phone while you continue to read your novel.

Minutes pass in pure silence- nothing but the occasional hoot from a faraway owl and the distanced sound of jazz music from your home below. That was, until eric opened tiktok. His volume was louder than necessary, his laughter echoing in your ears. You try to continue your reading, trying to be the nice guy. But it felt as if each tiktok he watched just made him laugh harder than the last. You make a mental note of the page you stop on before closing your book and looking over at him, your face blank with irritation.

“If you’re going to be in here, can you at least quiet down? I’m trying to read my book.” your eyes finally meet and he just chuckles, getting up off the floor and walking over towards you.

“What’re you reading anyway?”

You clear your throat before speaking as he inches closer, trying to keep your book close to hide it from him. “None of your business, just please keep it down.”

Eric notices you trying to keep the book from him and as he steps closer he tries reaching for it but failing as you hold it closer to you. He scoffs, trying to reach for it again. “Why so shy about it, huh?” his tone is playful, his eyes beaming with curiosity as he tries to sneak a peek of the cover. You try moving your body to hide it from him but as you’re squirming, he snatches up the book and examines the cover. A small laugh leaves his lips as he notices the explicit cover, your face turning a slight shade of pink as he then reads the first page that started off juicy. When he looks down at you, your cheeks are now red and your eyes wide. “This is the shit you read?”

You stand up and grab the book back from his hands, or at least attempt to before he raises it above your head with a smirk. The height difference between you both wasn’t much, but the fact he was also wearing grey sweats right now didn’t really help the burning sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. To say eric was ugly would be the biggest lie- you actually found him quite attractive. He was just annoying and pestered you often, but he was quite handsome. As his hand was held above you, your book in his hand, you can notice his peaking bicep from under his varsity jacket.

Your silence and wandering eyes failed you as eric took note of this. “Checking me out, huh?”

As you're snapped out of your daze by his words, you jump up and grab the book from his hand successfully and try to move around him to leave but fail. Although your treehouse is spacious, it’s not the biggest either. So now you’re backed into a corner by the hot annoying neighbor who just found out you read smut. Cool. you just sit down on the small couch, puffing in annoyance in an attempt to hide how flustered you’ve become.

“No i’m not.”

His index and middle finger tap the right side of your cheek, a smirk playing on his lips. “Your red cheeks say otherwise, sweetheart.”

Normally you'd swat away his hand, but as you looked in his eyes you felt the air catch in your throat. You felt as if time had stopped due to the close proximity you both were in. the little nickname that normally bothered you made your stomach churn with butterflies, your hands gripping your book tighter.

you tried to hide it once more, trying to keep your tone high and mighty. “don’t call me sweetheart.”

“then try to act like you don’t like it and maybe i will.” eric then squats so he’s now eye level with you, his fingers tracing from your cheek all the way down your neck and to your shoulder ever so gracefully as he does so. your eyes just watch him, unsure of what this feeling is that’s come over you. his head tilts, his face amused by this. “does mommy and daddy know you read smut all up here by yourself?”

eric had always seen you as this goody-two-shoes; mommy and daddy’s most prized possession who always got fantastic grades and went to one of the best colleges the states had to offer. throughout the past ten years, he had always seen you achieve the highest possible grades with honors just to seek your parents approval. never brought over a guy, your nose always buried in a book whether it be for your studies or for fun. he also noticed how your hair never failed to be done perfectly, different colored bows or hair accessories to match your dress or skirt. you always had to present the world with this perfect image of you, and he was just so curious to get to know you deeper than this facade you try to sell everyone you come across.

he watches you shake your head, no words being spoken as you seem choked up. your eyes sparkle under the dimly lit fairy lights as they glare at him, causing him to chuckle lowly yet again. “what if they found out?”

“don’t you fucking dare eric sohn-“

“ah ah,” he slips the book from your hands, placing it beside you. “why don’t we put page one to the test?”

your eyes widen, eyebrows raising. “e-excuse me?”

eric slips off his varsity jacket, tossing it on top of your book. “i skimmed the page over. doesn’t ellen get eaten out, or am i mistaken?” you’re left speechless, yet your face continues to redden all over. eric has thought about this for years but never thought this day would come, only in his wildest of dreams.

eric stands up a little bit to hover over you, lifting your chin and leaning down to rest his forehead against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes. his hair is messy, probably from the baseball practice he had earlier in the day. your lips are inches from his, yet not a word can be spoken as you’re just in shock.

“all you have to do is tell me to stop and i will.” is all eric whispers before placing his lips on yours.

both of your lips move in sync with one another, his fitting perfectly on yours. his hand moves from your shoulder to your cheek, his entire palm cupping it and his fingers placing themselves on the nape of your neck. his touch sends shivers down your spine, his fingertips delicate and careful. his other hand moves to your left thigh, starting to spread it apart from your right one. but you don’t stop him, something within you tells you to allow him. as he bites down on your bottom lip, his hand on your thigh travels to the inner part and stops near your panties. his fingertips graze your folds, the lace material feeling good against his skin.

the sound of your whimper against his lips makes his blood rush, separating his lips from yours. for a few moments he just stares down at you, taking in the view of your wide innocent eyes and puffy pink lips. “fuck you’re so pretty, you know that?”

eric then gets on his knees in front of you, and you watch as he slips off your white silk pleated skirt and stare at your pussy in awe. “all wet for me already, sweetheart?” you bite your lower lip as you watch him, arching your back against the wall at the nickname.

his fingers push the fabric aside, the fingertips grading your folds ever so slightly to take in the beauty for a second. he grins up at you before slipping in one finger, earning a gasp from you. eric starts slow, pumping in and out of you teasingly. he just stares up at you the whole time, taking in the beauty of your reactions. he watches your hand involuntarily reach for his hair, tugging on it once he picks up the pace out of satisfaction. you let out quiet moans as he slips in a second finger, not wanting anyone to potentially hear anything happening up in the treehouse.

after a few moments of his second finger, he puts his mouth to your clit. with this sudden movement you throw your head back, starting to grind against his face. eric takes in every movement you make, enjoying how you use him for your advantage to release. his fingers continue pumping in and out of you at a consistent pace, his tongue occasionally moving in and out of your hole as his lips continue to satisfy you. as your breathing pattern picks up and your legs begin shaking, he knew it was only a few seconds before you climaxed.

once you did, you let out a loud moan and eric took in every juice you offered to him. he begins licking you up, cleaning you up the only way he’s currently able to. he then leans up, grabbing you by the cheek and staring down at your tired face.

“open your mouth, baby.” he murmurs. you do as instructed, allowing him to spit in your mouth. you watch him through half-lidded eyes, smirking as you take in the taste he offers you.

and that’s the night where it all started, your friends with benefits relationship with your annoying neighbor.

[pedge-page]

SNEAK PEAK PLEASE

Cult Leader!Joel - drabble (In progress)

I had this in a pole a while ago but this is a Cult Leader ! Joel x F! Reader x eventual Dark!Tommy. This is a long sneak peek / drabble because frankly I don't I have plans to write this any time soon. I only have snippet scenes written here or there but not connected. It would either be a long fic or a mini series.

Warnings: cult Leader !Joel, breastfeeding, oral M receiving, pregnancy talk, infertility talk, breeding kink, post outbreak au, groping

18+ ONLY

- - - -

When you walk in the door, you didn’t expect to see the naked woman perched side-saddle on his thigh. Her breasts were swollen and exposed to the room as Joel’s lips greedily suck her left nipple. Her dark eyes glance up to you but she doesn’t react or care, just casually acknowledging your presence while tending to Joel’s taste.

His eyes are closed, jaw working in rhythm as he gulps what you presume must be milk spilling freely from her tit. You didn’t remember her name, only that the first time you saw her she was breastfeeding her newborn child a few days ago.

You turn back towards the door, hoping maybe this was a mistake, you weren’t supposed to be here now, but it’s been closed already. Unsure of where to put your eyes—half intuition telling you to look anywhere but there, but part of you also can’t help but be fascinated by the scene ahead. How calm and collected they are, whether Joel even knows you’re in the room or not doesn’t stop him. His swallowing and gentle wet sucking noises from his throat are the only sounds filling the room.

The woman bites her lip, holding in any type of moan. She’s clearly enjoying it but doesn’t want to make any obvious show. You don’t like the way she keeps making eye contact with you. As if she has something over you right now. Or maybe she wants something from you too.

Joel takes another gulp before her fingers sift through his curls. His lashes flutter open, gazing up at her a little perturbed. She gently rubs along his head, and he catches you in his peripheral: timid and shy, shrinking in on yourself like you don’t want to be here.

As if you had anywhere else to be.

Joel growls against her chest before swallowing the last sweet load of milk he had in his mouth. His lips detach from her nip, kissing the last little dribble of milk left before patting her butt.

“Alright, babydoll, go give Carmen a kiss on the head f’me.”

She stands up on cue. You can see the soft pudge of her belly drooping over, fresh stretch marks adorning her skin.

Joel doesn’t say anything to her, remaining seated behind his desk. You look away when you notice his view are on you. Despite being the only woman here that’s still fully clothed, Joel’s glare makes you feel stripped to the bare bone. He purses his lips, closing his eyes and sighing as his hand dips below the desk. He looks down to whatever is there, arm moving in gentle motions. He grins down to the space underneath, obscured from your view. After some deep, quick breaths, he lets out a satisfied grunt, whistling the air as he relaxes. He nods down towards his crotch.

“You too, Kel. Time’s up.”

To your surprise, another woman stands up right from below his desk between his spread legs. Also naked, Kel glances back at you briefly, her face a little warm with embarrassment. You can see the rounded plumpness of her stomach, more pronounced and settling low on her hips—she’s pregnant. Kel swipes her thumb over her lip, pushing in the mix of saliva and creamy cum back into her mouth and sucking it clean. 

Joel’s gaze sets back on you as both women kiss him on the cheek. Your stomach clenches.

His jaw sets as they stand up and stride past you in their bare glory with all the confidence in the world. They close the door behind them as they exit, leaving the two of you alone.

The notion sending frightening electricity throughout every nerve of your body. 

“You got a name?” He asks. He’s not even looking at you, more concerned with tucking his spent cock inside and settling up his pants. He stands up to help zip the last node, not bothering to button or buckle his belt.

You remain silent.

“I gotta call ya something. Ain’t giving ya a number or some shit.”

You gulp steadily and finally tell him your name.

He nods once. “S’nice name. Pretty. Suits ya.”

He rounds the desk, his glaring brown orbs burning into your body as he racks you up and down like a teenager who’s about to fuck his first virgin.

You hate this. Hate the pretend formalities, as if he gives a fuck. As if you weren’t sold like a commodity, as if you didn’t know the rumors about him, about his cult of wives that you’re now about to be assimilated in. About his mission to repopulate the world with his seed, and how your womb is the most precious possession, and the rest of you is inconsequential to his pleasure.

“What happens…if I don’t conceive. What if I’m infertile.”

He chuckles. “Right to business huh? Like that about ya.” He clears something from his teeth with his tongue, clicking it before continuing. “What do you think happens?”

You swallow the was of saliva that had been pooling in your cheeks. You can’t imagine. 

He leans closer despite the way you flinch. Breathes in your hair and circles you as he depicts the inevitable: “Think the fruitless ones get thrown to my men, used up like little cock sluts till they split? Or just shoot ya in the head and tossed in the river, like a useless, breed-less little thing that we ain’t gonna waste good food to fill that empty bellies?”

Your body goes frigid, the images filling your mind, unsure if that could be your future.

Cold hands grip both shoulders from behind. He inhales in your scent, your fear.

Then: 

 “You know Tess?”

His voice is more calm, more warm than you expected. You turn around, thinking maybe it’s a joke. He seems… genuinely curious to know your answer.

You nod. Tess was an interesting character—stern to all the men, almost like she ran the place, but calm and collected with the other brides. She didn’t strike you as someone that Joel claimed or owned. 

“She’s infertile.”

Your eyes widen but your surprise is caught by him. Tess had a pretty good life around here, and it never occurred to you that she was also one of Joel’s wives, AND that she had failed to bear him offspring. Maybe you made the assumption because of her age, clearly too old to be of childbearing health. Or just the way they interacted, like equals rather than superior and inferior. How long had they known each other?

 He laughs again. “Weren’t expect that huh?”

“I— just assumed—“

“What, that we only keep the ones that got good eggs? Honey. While your body’s purpose is for breeding; that’s true. Your duty, above all else, is to be my wife.”

A brief glimmer of a steady, softness in his eyes keeps your attention at bay as he tells you this, the palms that still cover your shoulders flooding with warmth that burns rather than aches. But the man before you doesn’t feel like the same one you were told about just days ago when you were being sold off.

“We take care o’ each other ‘round here. The ladies are your sisters, this is your family. If you ever got problems, you come right to me, ya hear?”

You nod again, but it’s not enough.

“Words, darlin’.”

“Yes.”

He grins. “‘Att’s my girl.” Joel’s hands rub along your arms, and you remember just how clothed you truly are compared to how it felt with his glaring earlier. 

“Now, let me get a good luck at ya: take your clothes off.”

You look back at him in horror.

“Aw now, just cuz I ain’t gonna throw you out if you don’t get pregnant don’t mean we ain’t gonna try.”

You grit your teeth, knowing there’s no other option. You’re sworn to him now. To obey. He only mentioned what happens if you don’t get pregnant, not necessarily what happens if you resist him. You look forward and shrug off the tattered dirty clothes that had kept your minimal warmth to yourself, the last bit a security that kept you safe like a shield in this hollow, soul-less world. 

Your underwear drops to the ground at your ankles. Naked now, no different than the women who just serviced him moments ago. You stand up tall, nails biting into your wrists. 

He moves around you like a prized commodity, taking in your features. You’re well aware that he’s observing more than just to see if you’ll be a pretty fuck. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you straighten your shoulders back, showing off the plumpness of your breasts as best you can. 

It’s too analytical—most men look at you like meat, focusing in on your ass, breasts and slit, whereas Joel is taking in everything. Chewing up data from every inch of your body and spitting out one factor that he’s determining: are you sturdy for carry his baby?

He makes some satisfied grunts here and there, an occasional tsk. You brace each time his hands glide along your hips, up your waist and down between your legs. The fact that it’s not sexual, almost medically pervasive, makes you feel even more on edge. His hands cup your chest, thumbs brushing over the nips until they harden painfully. He hums with a grin. “These gonna look real good when they swell. Not that they ain’t gorgeous as they are,” he adds with a wink.

You clench your jaw, only briefly meeting his eyes before looking forward again.

Joel flashes his teeth at you. “Alright. Ain’t gonna touch ya today sweetheart. Well, no more than this.”

“What, not going to sample the merchandise?” You bait. It’s probably too bold, but fuck, you gotta get a reaction out of him. Confirm exactly what you had been warned, prepping for the blow of his knee or the sting of the back of his hand.

Instead, he just hums. “Don't need to." He leaves you there to go back behind his desk to pull a bottle of whiskey from the drawer. His head tilts up and down to gesture you with a satisfied smirk:

"Already bought the whole stock.”

- - - -

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[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Interruption | Part 06

-> Pairing: mafia husband!Kim Hongjoong x mafia wife!Reader

-> Sypnosis: It all comes to an end.

-> Warnings: Mafia AU. Poorly written gun violence and physical violence. Murder. Attempted Murder. Everything that comes with a mafia au.

-> Word Count: 2,449

-> Taglist: Still open for those who want to still be tagged in future add-ons to this AU. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

-> Author's Note: This is the final part but I don't feel ready to give up this unexpected mini series. If you would like to see more, you can request one of imagines/scenarios. Maybe I'll even add more to how beginning of Hongjoong and Y/N's relationship if anyone wants it. Requests are open.

Interruption Masterlist | Hongjoong Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist

As Y/N goes to exit the makeshift hospital room, the lights suddenly go out, enveloping the mansion in darkness. “I should have known,” she mutters to herself. Drawing her gun, she grabs her phone and calls Wooyoung, who has just stepped out. “Tell the men to stay here. It seems we have a visitor,” she tells him after he answers. 

"I'll have them sweep the area," he tells her.  

"I’ll keep watch from here," she says, her mind racing with various scenarios.  

After Wooyoung hangs up, Y/N takes a deep breath, her instincts kicking in. A nagging suspicion tells her that Ri Mi-Rae's somehow infiltrated the mansion grounds, and that her sighting at the docks was merely a diversion. She moves carefully toward the window, her senses on high alert as she looks down at the grounds. The darkness is dense, but she knows this mansion intimately.  

Suddenly, a soft noise from the hallway outside draws her attention. She turns to the door, straining to hear, her grip on her gun tightening as she approaches the door. Just then, she hears a sound behind her, and before she can react, an arm wraps around her neck, squeezing tightly as the person pulls her back against them. At that moment, the generators roar to life, and the lights flicker back on. 

"Let go of me!" she hisses, twisting her body in an attempt to break free. The arm around her neck tightens, and she feels the pressure constricting her airway. Her fight or flight instincts kick in, and with a swift motion, she aims her gun at what she hopes is the intruder's foot and pulls the trigger. The person releases her immediately and she spins around, gasping for breath, only to find her latest hire staring at her in shock. A quick glance at his foot reveals that she missed entirely, but the shot was enough to startle him into letting her go.  

Raising the gun, she aims it at his head, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pull the trigger right now.” 

"I-I—" he stammers, struggling to find the right words.  

Just as she pulls the trigger, shooting the young man, another arm wraps around her neck again, this one slimmer than the first. She doesn’t need to guess who it is as she fights against her new enemy.  

"Stop resisting, or I’ll kill you right in front of your husband," Mi-Rae threatens. "He’ll wake up to find your cold, lifeless body lying beside him,” she continues. "I wasn't just trained as a spy; I'm also an assassin." 

Y/N feels the pressure of Mi-Rae's arm around her neck, the threat of suffocation looming. She stops struggling and relaxes her body. It has the desired effect as Mi- Rae loosens her grip enough for her to make a move. With a sudden burst of strength, she twists her body, using her free hand to jab at Mi-Rae's side. The so-called assassin stumbles slightly, loosening her grip just enough for Y/N to get out of her hold.  

"You're not the only one trained to fight," Y/N growls, her resolve hardening. She pivots to face Mi-Rae fully, and in one fluid motion, she brings her gun up, aiming it directly at the assassin's heart. “It seems you’re a little rusty.” 

Mi-Rae, filled with rage, lunges at her. Y/N quickly shoots her in the chest stopping her. She watches as Mi-Rae stumbles back clutching her chest, her eyes wide with shock. The blood from the gunshot wound leaks through her fingers.  

Fueled by rage, Mi-Rae lunges at her. Y/N reacts quickly, shooting her in the chest. She watches as Mi-Rae stumbles back, dropping her gun while clutching her chest, her eyes wide with disbelief. Blood seeps through her fingers as she collapses to the floor. Y/N steps closer, kicking the gun away, sending it skidding near the hospital bed.  

"Why did you come for me?" Y/N asks, her expression unreadable as she stands over the older woman, watching her gasping for breath. "How long have you been planning this?" 

"It was never supposed to be you," Mi-Rae manages to say between labored breaths. "Y-You were meant to-to die w-with your m-mother, but then he-he found you and-and took you in."  

"This has all been about Kim Dong-Yul?" Y/N asks, thinking of the man who took her in after her mother’s death.  

The memories of her childhood flood back—fragments of a life spent on the streets, always looking over her shoulder, always fighting to survive and avoid being a statistic at the orphanage. Kim Dong-Yul had been her savior, a beacon of hope in a world that had shown her nothing but cruelty.  

Dong-Yul, who was also Hongjoong's uncle, found her on the street after she had stolen an apple from a market stall. He claimed to be her uncle and took full custody of her when the authorities finally caught up to her. He raised her as his daughter and transformed her into the woman she is today. When he fell ill three years ago, she headed his empire, transforming it into the success it is now. It officially became hers seven months ago after Kim Dong-Yul passed away from his illness, leaving his Kim empire to her in his will. 

"Why?" Y/N demanded, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling within her. She places a heeled foot on Mi-Rae's hand that’s covering her wound and applies pressure. "Why would you want me dead? What did I ever do to you?" 

Mi-Rae's face twisted in pain, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—betrayal, resentment. Her breath grows shallower as she continues to talk. "When we found out you weren’t killed, your father and I were going to use you as a pawn to get to him. But when he took you in, you became stronger, smarter and unpredictable. You became a rival,” she begins to explain. “Kim Dong-Yul promised me everything when we were together and then your mother came along, oblivious to the fact she had gained the attention of the biggest crime lord in South Korea,” She pauses to take a deep breath. “I-I bet you didn’t know that,” she lets out a chuckle mixed with a groan. 

Y/N pressing her foot down, putting even more pressure on the wound. “I know more than you think. I heard stories all about Ahn Iseul, another alias of yours. Just so you know, no one liked you. Everyone was relieved when Dong-Yul got rid of you.”  

“Did you know it was your father’s idea to have you and your mother killed?” she groaned. “I may have seduced him to get back at your mother for stealing Dong-Yul's attention, but I wasn’t the one who suggested we kill you. He wanted to be rid of you as well as her. Your father is a bigger monster than you think,” She pauses for a moment before speaking again. “I suggest-” 

She’s cut off when a gunshot echoes throughout the room. Y/N holds the smoking gun, pointed at Mi-Rae's head. “One down, one to go,” she says coldly, removing her foot from Mi-Rae's lifeless body. 

“Drop it, Y/N,” her biological father’s voice fills the room. “I don’t want to have to shoot you.” 

“Have you killed anyone before, Appa?” She questions him, not bothering to raise her gun. With everything she had endured and the shocking truths she was uncovering, she’s exhausted. She’s also pretty sure her father wouldn’t have the balls to shoot her. “Or have you always gotten someone else to do it for you?” 

“You’re a monster,” Ha-Joon repeats his words from a week ago. 

“It seems to be genetic,” she replies. “You, me, Ha-Na. Though I doubt Ha-Na had much of a chance with a psychotic mother like Mi-Rae,” her voice takes on a taunting tone. “Before you left eomma, I thought you could do no wrong. But you proved me wrong. You showed me how weak and pathetic you actually are.” 

“I’d shut up if I were you!” he warns her. 

“Or what? Your fragile ego won’t have it and you’ll do the dirty work yourself?” she taunts. “Like I said, your weak and pathetic. I can’t believe I came from someone like you.” 

With anger on his face, Ha-Joon steps towards her, pressing his gun against her head, the cool metal of the nuzzle brushing against her heated skin. 

“Do it,” she tells him. “If my husband dies, I have no reason to live anymore,” she says watching her father’s eyes glance towards the bed where Hongjoong lays. “Kill me like you should have done all those years ago,” she insists, her tone now commanding. “End me and take over the Kim Empire. That’s what you and Mi-Rae wanted, right?” 

Instead of firing, he retracts his hand and strikes her across the face with the gun, sending her to the ground. She whips her head around to glare at him, her cheek already reddening and swelling from the blow, filled with all the hatred she can muster. He looms over her, gun once more pressed against her head. 

“Prove that little girl wrong, Appa,” she continues to taunt him, showing him that she’s not scared of him or dying. “Prove to her that you're no longer a weak and pathetic coward.” 

“Stop,” he warns her, his hand shaking and face turning red with rage.  

"Go ahead, shoot me," she replies, her voice unwavering. As the gun presses firmly against her head, she shuts her eyes. The sound of the gun clicking makes her brace for the bullet that could take her life.  

A gunshot echoes, making her flinch, but when she doesn’t feel the grip of death, she opens her eyes to see Hongjoong in front of her, holding the gun she had kicked away from Mi-Rae, while her lifeless father lies on the ground.  

"Hongjoong?" she whispers softly, her eyes wide with surprise and heart pounding against her chest, uncertain if she has truly escaped death.  

He hears her, and in an instant, the gun drops from his hand, clattering to the ground as he kneels in front of her. The world around them fades away, and she throws herself into his arms. He holds her close, as her tears flow freely, as she buries her face into his shoulder, the flood of emotions she’s been holding back all week finally pouring out. 

“I thought I lost you,” she whispers, her voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. 

“I told you I’m not going anywhere,” he assures her, his voice hoarse from not having used it for a week. He pulls back, lifting her head so he can look at her. “We’re even now,” he smiles at her lovingly as he wipes her tears away.  

She chuckles and brings him in for a kiss. “I love you,” she says after pulling away. 

“I love you too,” he replies bringing her back in for another kiss. 

15 Months Later.

Y/N walks into the at home office she shares with Hongjoong, her voice bright and cheerful as she sings "Happy Birthday" to her husband. She cradles their nine-month-old daughter, who giggles in delight at the sound of her mother’s voice, in one arm while her free hand holds on to a plate with a small birthday cake on it. 

Hongjoong looks up from his work, a surprised smile spreading across his face as he takes in the sight of his wife and daughter. His heart swells with affection as he watches his little family approach him. The office, usually filled with work and meetings transforms into a sanctuary of love and celebration. 

"Happy Birthday, my love," Y/N exclaims when she finishes singing.  

Hongjoong stands up, blows out the single candle in the cake and scoops both Y/N and their daughter into a warm embrace, feeling the stress of the paperwork, he’d been working on lifts off his shoulders.  

Not long after the events of last year, they found out that Y/N was pregnant and further along than they had anticipated. Given everything, they had been through, the happy news came at just the right time, giving the couple something to be excited about and look forward to. There were many instances when they thought about how close they came to missing out on where they are now. The thought of what could have been, had circumstances been different, often lingered in their minds, but now, with their daughter nestled between them, those worries felt distant. 

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He gently takes their daughter from Y/N as she sets the cake on the desk. "What have my two favorite girls been up to?" 

"We spent most of the morning brainstorming ways to lure you away from work so you could celebrate your birthday with us instead of being shut in the office all day," Y/N replies, her tone playful and teasing. "We figured a cake and gifts might do the trick." 

Hongjoong chuckles, his eyes sparkling with affection as he cradles their daughter against his chest. She coos softly, her tiny fingers reaching out to grasp at his shirt as she relaxes in his arms. 

"You two are the only birthday gifts I need," he says, his voice warm and sincere. He glances at the cake, a sitting on his desk. "Did you bake that yourself?" 

"Remember the last time I attempted to bake a cake? I think the smoke alarm still has PTSD from that disaster," Y/N chuckles, shaking her head at the memory. The last time she attempted to do any kind of baking she burnt it to a crisp. Cooking was fine, but baking just isn't her strong suit.  

"Well, I think your plan is working," he smiles. "Shall we get out of here?" 

Y/N nods and picks up the cake again, following Hongjoong out of their home office and down the stairs to the kitchen. 

Once they reach the kitchen, Y/N sets the cake down on the kitchen island and grabs a knife for Hongjoong to cut it. 

“Okay, birthday boy, what’s the plan?” Y/N asks as she leans against the counter, watching him cut the cake into pieces. "I got us this far. You can come up with the rest." 

"How about we pack a bag or two and head to the beach for the weekend? No work. No empire. Just me and my ladies," he suggests.

Y/N's eyes light up at the idea, a smile spreading across her face. "The beach? That sounds perfect to me." 

"Let's do it then," he says as he finishes slicing the cake and hands her a piece. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

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[kookslastbutton]

Love's Remedy ༓ jjk (m) l ch. II

✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.

Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 2,783

Warnings: angry koo, jealous koo, gym rat koo, thicc thighs koo, protective koo, kook checks his abs out, koo gets in a physical fight with an aggressive jerk that involves punching, name-calling (half pint, hermit crab, b*tch, Bambi, honeysuckle, kookie), mention of blood (minor), jk is very cute and determined towards oc, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), oc has poor self-esteem, cussing, bit of crying...sorry lot of warnings this chapter

Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+

A/N: Yes, I'm aware this chapter is short, still Jungkook is shirtless in half of this and I am not sorry. This chapter also gets heavy but I hope you enjoy! 💞

<< ch. I ༓ ch. II >> | series masterlist

A week passes since the frat party and Jungkook hears nothing from you. He's reluctant to accept that you've likely already deleted his number but why else would you be radio silent? Why would someone like you ever be interested in a shy little nerd like him?

He's disappointed but when he gave you his number, it's not like he was expecting anything in return.

Well, he can’t stay hung up on you forever—he'll give you one more week. In the meantime, it’s 5 p.m and he’s off to do his daily lifting at the gym. He read somewhere online that evening is better for building strength, and that is exactly what he intends to do.

With a basic black tank top and gym shorts on, Jungkook scans the expanse of the facility. The place isn’t too crowded being that it’s nearly dinner time but it’s still moderate. He’s hoping Jackson will join him soon, considering they’re buddies now because isn’t that what guy friends do? Workout together?

When he makes his way to the weight room he quickly finds it's packed with guys double his size. Half of them look like they're upperclassmen while the other half is split between first-years like him and a small handful of women. He sheepishly strolls over to an empty pull-up bar, deciding to start with chin lifts.

Jungkook sets his water bottle on the ground, reaches for the handle, and lifts his body up until his chin is level with the bar, legs swing in the air slightly. He then extends his arms back out. The burn in his biceps feels good. He repeats the motion a few more times but has to stop when he hits six.

He takes a big swig of his water, already sweating evident from the tank top sticking to his back. The coolness of the water helps but between his own sweat and the sweat of others around him, Jungkook is tempted to throw his shirt off. Most of the men in the room aren’t wearing any more than shorts anyway so why can’t he?

Jungkook grasps the edges of his tank, pulling it up a little. How did his abs look? Were they good enough to show off? He’s working out diligently since 14 but he was still on the smaller side compared to the rest of his peers.

The mirror to his left helps him get a better look so he shifts his body over. When he does he catches a slight glimpse of a familiar face in the top right corner. Jungkook instantly drops his shirt, whipping his head around.

What were you doing in the weight room? And with some buff guy twice his size closely behind you? All he’s doing is staring at your ass in those tight purple shorts which so happens to have a matching crop top.

Jungkook scowls at the sight.

When you take a seat at one of the bench presses a couple of feet away, his eyes widen. The guy you came with stands behind your head as you lean back. He helps you set the barbell. It’s too far for Jungkook to hear what he’s telling you but he’s convinced it’s nothing good. Whoever this guy is he won’t stop grinning, and you’re grinning back!

You said you don’t do relationships. You said you'd think about going out with him. You said a lot of things but here you are with some guy that looks an awful lot like a boyfriend, how disgusting…

Fuck it.

Jungkook turns his eyes away from you, yanks his tank off, and grabs the pull-up bar again. He’s gonna knock ten of these out in one set.

Shoulder-width apart, he keeps a steady pace though he makes sure to take deep breaths to prolong his stamina. His eyes fixate on the back wall of the weight room to avoid you and your supposedly new boo from getting in his head.

Apparently, you just didn’t want him. It’s fine. Jungkook exhales. It’s all fine.

After three sets of chin-ups, Jungkook releases himself from the bar to check his phone. He takes another glug of his water too.

Jackson: hey Kook, I was planning to join you at the gym today but I got my family in town tonight. Man, it’s only been a week….can you believe they’re here to visit already?

Jungkook: Wow, all I’ve gotten from my family is a short text saying good luck. They must miss you a lot but yeah, it’s no problem. We can work out another time?

Jackson: You got it bro. Thank you for understanding 🙏🏼 Also, there’s a second thing 😬

Jungkook: ??

Jackson: I might have told my parents about you so are you free to get lunch with us tomorrow? My parents want to meet you. Our treat.

Jungkook: Really? Okay yeah. I’d love to meet them. Time?

Jackson: We don’t know yet but likely 1pm if that’s okay?

Jungkook: Sure, I’ll just be studying so. Text me when you know.

Jackson: I will. How’s the gym?

Jungkook hovers his thumbs over the keyboard. When he glances up to think, he’s reminded of your lingering presence. You’re no longer bench pressing anymore but instead doing a set of bent-over dumbbell rolls. With the way you’re torso’s angled, anyone who’s anyone has a direct view of your rear end. Any decent person would pay it no mind but that same douchebag next to you keeps gawking.

“It’s not meant to be a fucking sex position,” Jungkook mutters and types out a response. “Fucker.”

He makes his way to the black punching bag on the other side of the room, passing a strong glare at that young man as he nears the two of you. He doesn’t know his name but he’d really like to go over there and knee him in the balls. His eyes flicker at you for a moment, so pretty.

“The hell are you staring at my girl for half-pint?” The man calls Jungkook out in an aggressive stance. “Keep your eyes in front before I fuck you up.”

Frazzled, Jungkook scurries to move past the both of you with his head down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything.” He doesn’t get three steps before a solid form blocks his path.

“Who are you apologizing to? Your feet? Look me in the damn eye when you talk to me.”

“Jun-ho stop,” you come up beside the man, tugging at his arm. He yanks himself out of the grasp, however, jolting your body back. You nearly lose your balance.

“I’m just trying to teach this little hermit crab what happens when you stare at another man’s woman, baby.”

Jungkook clenches his fists as you struggle to re-stabilize yourself. You should not be with this asshole. He doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t deserve to be calling you his baby. Who the fuck does he think he is shoving a woman like that.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit. “I’m not your woman. Now leave Jungkook alone. He doesn’t need this.”

Jun-ho gives you a cocky smirk. “Oh? So he’s Jungkook huh? You know him too. You fucking him behind my back or something?” He takes a step towards you. Jungkook lunges forward seeing your obvious discomfort.

“Don’t touch her!” Jungkook stands between you and Jun-ho. He’s shaking so badly but he doesn’t budge. “Take another step and I’ll–I’ll–“

“You’ll pound me in the ground? You and what army? You can’t even talk.” He snorts and moves to toss Jungkook to the side. “Get out of my way.”

Jungkook feels the back of his neck heat with rage, his ears red and burning. There’s no way in hell he’s letting Jun-ho get to you.

“She told you to stop, so why don’t you just–fuck off!” Jungkook shoves Jun-ho back with as much force as he can. His body’s not built and his arm muscles aren’t as ripped but he’s got some big fucking thighs that manage to anchor him to the ground.

“You shit.” Jun-ho grits his teeth and punches Jungkook straight in the gut. Jungkook doubles over in agony. His hand clutches over his abdomen as he groans. You hurry in front of him but you’re thrown to the side by a pair of large hands. “Move bitch,” Jun-ho snaps, eyes bolstered on the smaller man.

“Hey, what the hell is going on over here?” The manager of the gym rushes over to the three of you. He grabs Jungkook and offers him support. “You can’t be doing this young man. You need to leave now.”

Jun-ho shakes his head. “Count yourself lucky this time Jungkook. Could have been a lot worse if it weren’t for this old man getting in the way.” He stares at the manager and then at you. “Come on __.”

“You’re fucking nuts if you think I’m coming with you. I’m staying with Jungkook.”

“No, you’re fucking not.” Jun-ho reaches for your arm until his head is knocked backward by a clean, punch to his jaw. “Fuck! You Fuck!” He holds his jaw, stumbling into a rack of dumbbells behind him.

Jungkook’s knuckles bleed as he holds his own wrist. He winces at the sharp throbbing and stinging from the punch. “Okay no more, no more,” the manager anxiously darts his eyes back and forth between him and Jun-ho. “I want you all out of my facility this instance.”

After being thrown out of the gym, Jungkook returns to his dorm room. He insists he takes care of his injury himself but it doesn’t sit well with you so you follow him.

“I’m so sorry about this Jungkook. Jun-ho’s a bastard.” You finish wrapping his knuckles in the elastic bandage then lean forward to place your hands on his shoulders. “Promise me you won’t ever do that again.”

Jungkook holds your pleading stare from his seated position. Your soft hands are simultaneously soothing and unsettling. He’s not mad at you for what happened at all. But seeing you with a jerk like Jun-ho when you rejected him, someone who’d never treat his girl like a piece of trash causes all kinds of knots inside him.

“You’re not going to see him again right? Because I can’t make that promise if you do.” His voice is low, nervous that you'll say yes.

Jungkook might not have personal relationship experience but he's witnessed his share of unhealthy relationship dynamics more times he'd like to count.

“Jungkook…” You muster up the best reassuring smile you can and tuck a few loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Nothing's going to happen between me and Jun-ho anymore. We weren't anything serious. But you care too much about me, I’m not worth the trouble.”

Hearing this, he reaches a hand up to close over yours. “Please don’t say that. Everyone deserves to be cared for and as long as I can help it, I’ll be the first to do it.” His big, doting eyes search into yours. "And good, don't go back to him __. He's not the type of man you need."

"And what type of man do I need Bambi?" You stroke his puffy cheeks and quirk your head to the side inquisitively. Jungkook flinches at the touch.

"Bambi?"

"You didn't like it when I called you baby so, had to come up with something else."

"But." There's that pout again. Jungkook doesn't like being called a baby but when someone reaching this level of adorable, its so hard to shake. "But I just knocked a bitch out for you. How can you keep calling me baby names?"

The chuckle that leaves your lips is heaven to Jungkook's ears. "Aww Jungkook," you coo. "It's 'cause you're a little honeysuckle. So sweet to the taste." His ears perk up at that, gnawing on his bottom lip. "But if you want me to call you something else that might take some more time for me to figure out. Until then do tell me, what do I need?"

"Someone that'll protect you."

"Mhm, okay but—"

"Emotionally, physically, and mentally." Jungkook lists out loud. "That means someone to stand up for you, support you in the ways you need. Someone to help keep losers like Jun-ho out who only look out for themselves." He pauses, contemplating thoughtfully. "You need someone you can trust too. When you're sick you'll be taken care of and he'll never ever cheat on you. Even if you fight, he'll always stick by your side. You'll watch movies together, cuddle under the covers, and stargaze on summer nights. He'll also peel perilla leaves for you and love you until sunrise. Finally, when the time's right he'll ask to marry you, only if you want, of course."

Jungkook waits for you to give him a reply, a little breathless. He notices the distance between you and him somehow got larger. You're now about two feet away from him when you were only mere inches before.

"I'm sorry." He lowers his head. "It's silly I know. Everyone tells me I'm some kind of dreamer boy, just a hopeless romantic."

"It's not silly Jungkook." You soften your expression. "It's a beautiful idea and somewhere out there will gladly share those things with you. You'll live a full life together having all those wonderful experiences."

"Wanna have them with you though." His eyes flicker up at you. "I really like you __."

Oh no, no no no. You push down the pressure building from inside you. "No, I can't. I'm sorry Bambi, I want to but you don't know me." A small tear spills out of the corner of your eye. "I'm not able to....I can't love you like that."

Jungkook gets up from his chair and reaches for your trembling hand. You're tempted to pull back if it weren't for the fact that your hand feels warm in his.

"I can," he says. "I can love you if you let me."

You shake your head, and another hot tear rolls down your face. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm even crying." You quickly wipe your wet cheeks.

"You don't always need a reason. Sometimes it just happens and that's okay. I cry all the time when I'm by myself." Jungkook grabs your other hand slowly. "Just wanna be here for you."

You blink back the remaining tears welling in your eyes. You're embarrassed this is happening at all. Jungkook is the sweetest, most kind-hearted, and most selfless person you know. He shouldn't have to be dealing with any of this.

"If we can't go out, is it okay that we are friends?"

"I don't want to do that to you Kookie."

"Hey, I like that one," he says with a lifted voice.

"You do? I didn't even think about it like the others."

"You were thinking about me?" He bounces in the air a little, at least that's what it looks like to you by the sudden rush of energy Jungkook responds with. He likes knowing you've been paying attention to him, even if only a smidge.

You dart your eyes past him, fingers curling in his hand. "Well I mean..." Jungkook waits intently. "I guess...yes, some."

"Oh please __, please let me take you out. We don't even have to call it a date."

"You're too persistent, you know that?"

"But is it working?"

"I'm not ready yet Jungkook." His shoulders slouch and he opens his mouth to say something though you continue before he can get anything out. "To give you an answer. I'm not ready to give you an answer yet is what I'm trying to say."

"Well, that's okay. You wanna think about it longer? We can four years until graduation."

"You're such a goof, you'd wait that long for an answer?"

Jungkook shakes his head. "No, I'd wait that long for you." He pauses. "Okay maybe I have been watching one too many Korean dramas. Even I threw up in my mouth a little."

Too both share a laugh, this is the weirdest, emotionally exhausting day ever. "Thank you for what you did today with Jung-ho. And for trying to comfort me. Will you possibly be able to wait another week? If it's too long you can tell me. I've made you wait long enough."

"A week from now, let's meet up okay? Or call at least. Even if it's a no, I don't want this to be the last time I get to see or hear you."

"Okay." You nod. "I promise."

And that was the end of that night, as Jungkook walks you to your dorm soon after. It was getting dark out after all.

A/N: tysm for reading! Lmk what you think and if you wan to be tagged comment/ask 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

@hoseokteardrop

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[mint-yooxgi]

{13} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang, Yunho, San, and Mingi)

Words: 10,500

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma and bullying: past suicidal thoughts mentioned, and mention of a lack of self worth, OC runs into an old 'friend' near the beginning, I think that's it honestly. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, I decided to split this part into two since I feel it makes the story flow better. I'm happy where I ended it, and I really hope you all look forward to the next few parts! There's quite a lot of story coming your way hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve

There’s a fond look in your eyes as you stand by yourself in front of the large window overlooking the newborns sleeping soundly before you. The hospital is quiet, given how early in the morning it is, a few staff walking behind you every now and then. Still, you cannot help but watch over little Elijah, even now, ensuring that nothing happens to him while his mother rests with his father in her hospital room.

Born a little over eight hours ago, well into the night, he sleeps soundly. A week late, weighing in at a healthy eight pounds, eleven ounces, they keep him wrapped up while Crystal recovers from giving birth the night before.

When you had gotten the call yesterday, you immediately rushed to the hospital with Seonghwa and the others. You met your parents here, waiting as long as you could before being sent home. Having wanted as natural a birth as possible, Crystal had been in for a long night. 

Much to your content, you discovered Elijah had been born in the early hours of the morning, and had already been checked over for any ailments that might affect him after birth. He had none, and is perfectly healthy according to all of the doctors. A fact which makes you, and all of your family, happy beyond belief.

Currently, Vasco is with Crystal, staying with her after recovery while Elijah sleeps. San has went to grab you both coffees with Mingi, who you asked to stop by and check up on Crystal for you on the way to the café. You want to make sure that she’s fairing well while you check up on your baby nephew for the first time. 

The other guys stayed home, per your request. Of course, a few of them had protested at that - Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong - considering you all don’t know what Malik or Dimitri’s next moves are. However, at your assurance, they backed off. Besides, you have both Mingi and San here with you, and you highly doubt you would be attacked in a hospital.

Still, you’re on high alert. Just in case.

Looking over little Elijah once more as he sleeps, you notice a figure come to stand beside you out of the corner of your eyes. He’s tall, but not as tall as Yunho, with dirty blond hair. He looks familiar, but you don’t pay him much mind. You just wish he’d stop glancing at you every few seconds.

The soft call of your name startles you, and you finally turn to get a good look at the man standing beside you. His blue eyes are hauntingly familiar.

“Hi, Jake.” You give him a small, albeit tight smile.

“I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure.” He smiles lightly back. “I haven’t seen you since elementary school. How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been well.” You reply softly. “Yourself?”

“Never better,” his eyes crinkle slightly as he turns back to observe the sleeping infants before you. “Is one of them yours?”

He holds a paper coffee cup in his hand, using it to motion before him along the line of babies.

“Oh. No.” You shake your head. “Just a proud aunt watching over her nephew.”

The corner of your lips twitches upwards as you motion to Elijah sleeping soundly before you.

A moment of silence as you cradle your elbows in your hands, almost to the point of curling in on yourself. You clear your throat. “You?”

A brilliant smile lights up his features, his eyes crinkling at the sides as his chest puffs out slightly in pride. He nods in the direction of two girls sleeping side by side. “My wife just had a twins.”

“Oh.” You meet his gaze briefly, offering him a small smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He grins widely, ruffling his hair which already seems quite disheveled. “It would have been your sister, right?”

You blink, pulled out of your own thoughts for the moment. “I’m sorry?”

“Your sister who had the baby,” he motions lightly to Elijah with his cup again. “If I remember correctly.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You clear your throat once more. “It was her.”

“Tell her congratulations for me.” He nods.

You swallow the dryness in your throat, shifting from foot to foot. “I will. Thank you.”

You don’t think you’ve ever had an encounter where you’ve felt more awkward in your life. Sure, you could brush up against Mingi’s, or even San’s mental links right now, but it’s not like you’re in danger. You’re just more uncomfortable than anything at the moment, given everything he did to you when you were younger.

“Actually, it must be pure luck that we ran into each other today.” This time, Jake clears his throat, somewhat nervously.

You hum in response, shifting the slightest bit further from him without arousing suspicion.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the past lately, and it just reminded me that I never apologized to you.”

His statement catches you so off guard, that your hands end up falling to your sides.

“I was a huge asshole to you when we were younger, and I don’t know how much this will mean to you now, but I’m sorry. I wasn’t happy when I was a kid, and I felt you were an easy target to take that out on. I was always jealous of you, and I let that and my anger control my actions. That was not right.” He says, no longer looking towards you, but down at his hands with that coffee cup held in them for dear life. “I regret getting my friends involved to torment you, too. The feeling of them listening to me gave me a sense of power I felt I lacked in my life, and you were the unfortunate victim.”

You swear you’ve stopped breathing, whole body feeling numb as you refuse to so much as look in his direction. Jake was one of the ones who tormented you so much when you were younger, and gave you all of those self doubts, as well as an incredible amount of self hatred. One of the ones who made you believe you were worthless, ugly, and unlovable.

The worst part: he started out as one of your closest friends, too. A close friend who you had cherished above all else, just as you do with all the people you care about.

A worried call of your name greets your ears, and you turn to see San standing to your opposite side, a cup of coffee held in each of his hands. Mingi is nowhere in sight.

There is no hiding the narrowed eyed look San sends Jake’s way as the former comes to stand beside you. He places the cup of coffee in your hand gently before immediately wrapping his now free arm around your waist. Almost instantly, he pulls you into his side.

“You don’t have to forgive me.” Jake continues, and you feel San’s grip around your waist tighten. “It’s been years, and I would understand if you never did. What I did was vile, and inexcusable. Just know, that I am sorry, and I regret it all.” He swallows thickly. “I just thought you should know.”

With a firm nod in acknowledgement towards San, and without another word spoken, Jake takes his leave.

Your eyes follow after him down the hall, watching as he retreats around a corner and out of sight. You don’t even notice Mingi has come to join you until you hear his voice speaking to you.

“Who was that?” There’s a hint of a growl to his words, him taking note of the distressed state you seem to be in at the moment.

You inhale sharply, as if suddenly coming back to the reality before you.

“Starlight?” Immediately, worry takes over Mingi’s features as he looks at you.

Beside you, you can feel San physically trembling.

“Baby,” his voice is low in attempts to control his building anger, “What did he do to you?”

You shake your head, blinking a few times blankly. “Nothing.”

“Then, why was he apologizing to you?” Mingi’s brow furrows, stepping in front of you in order to gently grasp your hands still holding onto that cup in his own.

“That was Jake.” You blink, head still reeling at this turn of events. “He- he-“ You take a deep breath in to steady your nerves. “He was my friend. Once.”

The two males share a look.

“You don’t look like you’ve just been chatting up an old friend.” San glares off in the direction Jake had walked off in, as if he can still see the male behind the walls of the hospital.

“He was my friend,” you repeat, pursing your lips for only a moment, “before he started bullying me.”

You swear that were you not in a public place, both males would have let growls escape them.

“He made me feel worthless, and pathetic.” Your gaze is somewhat blank, as if recalling memories from your childhood that you have long since kept hidden. “I can’t count the amount of times he told me I was ugly.” You swallow. “And fat. And stupid. And that I would never amount to anything. That no one would ever care for me, so I should just runaway and die.”

You swear you see San’s eyes flash in the reflection of the glass beside Mingi’s head.

“He got his friends involved, and it was like a game to them who could berate me the most.” You don’t know how you’re still standing, or how you’ve managed to quell your building emotions for the time being, but you do. “He told me to kill myself more times than I can remember.”

You look down at that cup of coffee in your hands, finally taking note of Mingi still gently holding onto you. The way they both have trouble breathing, chests heaving with each breath, you just know that they’re both barely containing their anger for the moment.

“I told you once before how people would pretend to like me as a joke,” you exhale shakily, and you hear the faintest of growls come from the man still holding you to his side. “I wish I could say I saw through it every time, but sometimes having a crush can blind you.”

San nearly drops the cup of coffee in his hand. “You liked him?”

“I mentioned we started off as friends, no?” Your lips twitch upwards sadly. “I think that’s what made what he did worse. I let so many things slide because I just wanted his attention. It’s something I’ve always done. With him though, any attention was good attention to me. It didn’t take long for it to change. His younger brother always was rude to me from the start, but then he started in on the ‘fun’, too.”

This time, there’s no mistaking when Mingi’s eyes flash black right before you.

Quickly, you scan the hallway to ensure it’s still empty. 

It is.

“He never apologized, or even acknowledged what he did to me before. He always denied it when confronted about it, too.” Your grip tightens slightly around that cup in your hands. “Until now.”

Raising a shaky hand to your cheek, Mingi cups your face tenderly in his palm. Gently, his thumb strokes over your skin, and you can feel the barely contained rage in his touch despite how delicately he holds onto you.

“We should tear him apart for what he did to you.” Mingi keeps his voice surprisingly low and steady. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “He doesn’t deserve to live.”

A low growl of agreement sounds from San.

Almost instantly, you’re shaking your head. “No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” San asks, pulling away from you in shock as he begins pacing in front of both you and Mingi in that little space between where you stand and the wall.

“He’s not worth it.” You reach out, and instantly San has his free hand in yours. “I never expected to run into him after all these years, least of all for him to apologize as soon as I did.”

“Are you-“ Mingi takes the time to study your features closely, gently guiding your gaze back to his. “Are you okay?”

“Shocked.” You blink a few times in response. “Attempting to process things for the moment, but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?” San steps in closer, nothing but worry etched into his brow.

“Yeah.” You meet his gaze. “I don’t know, it’s almost… freeing in a sense.” You swallow. “It’s almost like getting a sense of closure I never knew I needed.”

Instantly, the two males seem to relax the slightest bit from your words.

“He seemed genuine when he spoke to you.” San adds softly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Besides, I’m sure our dear Sannie here would have torn him apart in an instant if he sensed any malicious or deceitful thoughts towards you.” Mingi finally drops his hands, turning to glance off in the direction Jake went off in. “I know I would have.”

“You’re damn right I would have.” San hums in agreement.

A soft laugh escapes you. “That I do know.”

They offer you small smiles in response, an affectionate gleam to their eyes. 

“His wife just had twins.” You motion to the two baby girls wrapped up in blankets near Elijah with your chin.

They spare a brief look in their direction before shifting their focus onto Elijah. Almost instantaneously, Elijah stretches in his sleep, a tiny yawn escaping him as he shifts his position.

You coo lovingly down at your little nephew.

“He’s perfectly healthy, as far as we, and all of the doctors can tell.” San is beside you once more, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

“And Crystal?” You spare a glance at Mingi.

“A little tired, but recovering just fine.” He smiles at you in response. “I checked her over like you asked.”

“Good.” A soft smile pulls at your lips. “I’m glad.”

Slowly, the three of you begin making your way back down the hallway and towards the room Crystal is in. You plan to spend some time with her before heading back for the day, and getting some more training done with Yunho and Yeosang. 

You’re almost at a point where you can start learning the basics of a few weapons, and you’re getting quite excited. Wooyoung is more than ready to start teaching you about different poisons, and he’s often hinted at certain plants which have high toxicity levels. For now, he’s still letting you have some space, not wanting to give you any ‘ideas’ for the next time he gets overtly clingy. 

Not that you would poison him. 

Similarly, Yunho has been helping you hone your mind, strengthening it before the inevitable happens once you become like them.

Once you become like them.

There’s a thought that has been crossing your mind more often than not lately. You know that they mentioned that it would consist of the merging of souls in a way - you give them a piece of your soul while they give you a piece of theirs in exchange - but you’re still not entirely sure what that entails. You’ve been meaning to ask, only, you haven’t found the proper time to do so.

Perhaps you’ll bring it up again, soon.

For now, you’ll focus on joking around and making your sister smile as you sit beside her hospital bed. Vasco managed to pass out in the one chair in the time it took for Mingi to come find both you and San, but you don’t hold it against him. The man has been up all night with his wife.

After about an hour, you notice Crystal starting to drift off to sleep, too, so you bid her a fond farewell for now. With a big hug and a kiss from you, you tell her to get as much rest as she can, and that you’ll be around to visit again soon.

The whole car ride back home is quiet. Both Mingi and San attempt to engage you in conversation, only for you to reply with small, one word answers. That is, if you don’t just hum in response. Your mind is clearly elsewhere, and worry furrows their brows as they watch you almost subconsciously drive home.

You seem distracted, and it’s enough to have the others observing you carefully as you walk through the house. The quiet is unusual for you after visiting your sister, and though you don’t appear angry, or upset, it’s quite unsettling.

Of course, it takes no time for both Mingi and San to be sharing what happened with the others. 

Why am I suddenly getting flashbacks to that worm we disposed of all those months ago? Wooyoung nearly growls out in all of their heads.

Believe me, Hongjoong sighs. You’re not the only one.

So, why aren’t we doing that to this one right now? Perhaps even something worse?Jongho quirks a brow while staring down at the pages of his book.

She told us not to. Mingi replies. Said he wasn’t worth it.

But he hurt her. This time, it’s Seonghwa who responds. None of his brothers need to see him to know that he wears a frown on his features currently. 

An expression mirrored by more than just one male.

She said it happened a long time ago. San adds. We don’t know the full details, just what she’s told us.

And that should have been enough to at least torment the fellow. Yunho says, as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

I don’t know, guys. Mingi sighs. She told us that she felt as if it was almost freeing in a sense for him to apologize after all these years. You know I’m all for eviscerating anyone that harms her, but if she says not to, I think we should listen to her.

We’re lucky she hasn’t found out about Calum, yet. Yeosang chimes in, an almost knowing hum to his words.

And she never will. Hongjoong confirms. Just like she doesn’t have to know about this ‘Jake’ guy.

His wife just had twins, Hongjoong. San states, rather firmly. Besides, do you really want to disobey Our Queen’s wishes like that so easily?

A moment of silence settles over all of them as San’s words sink in.

San’s right. Seonghwa finally breaks the building tension. We don’t purposely orphan children, or widow spouses. Nor should we go against her wishes.

Boo! You guys are no fun. They can all practically hear the pout in Wooyoung’s voice as he says this.

I suppose the circumstances were a lot different last time. Jongho sighs.

We could still torment him mentally. Yunho suggests casually.

Oh, I’m all for this! Wooyoung exclaims excitedly. I could mildly poison him. Make it a hindrance to his daily life for a week or so.

All fun ideas, Yeosang hums. But I think you’re all forgetting one important detail.

At his brother’s inquisitive silence, Yeosang is quick to continue. 

She said, ‘no’.

“Is everything okay?” The sound of your voice, somewhat worried and soft, draws both Yunho and Yeosang out of their mental conversation with their brothers for the moment.

“Of course, Petal.” Yunho smiles at you. “We’re just worried about you, is all.”

“Me?” You quirk a brow in surprise.

“You seem distracted.” Yeosang tilts his head to the side slightly, almost curiously.

“You two have been standing to the side frowning like you can’t decide between cheddar or parmesan cheese for the past ten minutes.” You huff out a laugh. “If anyone’s distracted, it’s you.”

“We’re waiting for you to finish stretching.” Yeosang answers, attempting some form of causality.

“I finished stretching and doing some warm up exercises ten minutes ago.” You deadpan.

“Oh.” 

That seems to shut them up for a good thirty seconds.

“So then, what would you like to work on today, Petal?” Yunho is quick to change the subject.

Immediately, you begin vibrating in excitement, grinning widely as your eyes shine.

“Let’s finalize your hand-to-hand combat training first before we pull out the knives.” Yunho chuckles.

A dramatic pout pulls onto your features and Yeosang elbows Yunho quite pointedly in the ribs.

“Don’t worry, My Dear, we’ll let you try some weapons later today.” Yeosang assures you.

Almost instantly, your mood perks up, and both of them are smiling fondly at you.

“I take it I won’t actually get any pointy objects to start.” You quirk a brow playfully.

The two males share a look before Yunho is shrugging. “If that’s what you want.”

“We may be overprotective, Dearest, but we’re not unreasonable.” Yeosang replies. “If any incidents occur, we can just heal you.”

“Or us.” Yunho adds at seeing your expression of disbelief.

A subtle nod of your head in amusement is all he gets in response.

“You’ve been working on building your strength with Mingi and San, correct?” Yunho is quick to ask, walking over to the sparring mats to your left.

A nod is all the confirmation he gets.

“Alright then, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles, moving over beside his brother before meeting your gaze. “Show us what you’ve got.”

“Are you suggesting I take the both of you at the same time?” You quirk a brow teasingly as you step onto the mats.

The low growls you receive in response are all the confirmation you get that they’ve taken the comment in a different way than what you originally insinuated.

“Keep thinking like that, I’ll easily distract the both of you.” You chuckle, a sultry pull to the corner of your lips.

“We can’t help it, Dearest,” Yeosang sighs, almost wistfully. “You have a habit of dropping the most interesting thoughts into our minds at the best of times.”

“Not the worst?” Your brows flick upwards suggestively.

“Sometimes.” Yunho chuckles, and at the way your mouth falls open in mock offence, he’s quick to add, “I never said it was a bad thing, Petal.”

“It’s just a little more difficult to…” Yeosang searches for the right word, “concentrate on the battlefield with certain additions to our physique.”

“Yes, I can quite imagine how painful it is to fight when you’re hard.” You grin, huffing out a small laugh.

“It’s certainly not the most comfortable thing.” Yeosang nods in agreement.

“You speak as if you have experience with this sort of thing,” Your eyebrows raise, amusement shining behind your eyes.

When both of them shrug, you cannot help the boisterous laugh that escapes you.

“I’d say Captain has the most, though.” Yunho adds, seemingly nonchalantly. “He can get intense on the battlefield. In more than one way.”

“Oh?” This piques your interest. “Then, I look forward to it.”

The way they both blink at you in mild shock has you giggling.

“What? Surprised it doesn’t phase me that much anymore?” You tilt your head curiously.

“A little bit,” Yunho blinks, loosening his stance in preparation to fight you.

“A girl has her fantasies.” This time, it’s your turn to shrug.

Two low growls greet your ears, the faintest tint of black darkening their eyes.

“Care to share, Dearest?” Yeosang begins stalking towards you slowly, like a predator would its prey.

You immediately begin countering his every move, watching Yunho carefully out of the corner of your eyes. “Perhaps I’ll just show you.”

His breath hitches, and you strike.

For the next forty minutes, the three of you spar together on the mats. A few times, you manage to pin one of them, only for the other to knock you right off your balance. You’ve only ever sparred with one partner before, besides last week when Jongho and Mingi decided to challenge you further. So, taking on multiple of them at a time requires even more quick maneuvers and thinking on your part, but you’re starting to recognize a pattern to their attacks.

You’re not sure if they’re doing it on purpose, or if they’re aware of it or not, but Yunho seems to be the one to observe the scene before moving, and only when it looks like Yeosang has created an opening for him to get through. That, or when you’ve managed to subdue Yeosang for the moment.

Yeosang, on the other hand, enjoys staying low to the ground, crouching as he goes in for the attack to throw off your balance. He’s nimble, and much more flexible than you thought he could be. A fact which intrigues you as much as impresses you.

Both never fail to praise you any opportunity they get.

During the second round, Yeosang accidentally manages to tear your shirt. The scraps of fabric hang limply off of your shoulders, exposing your torso and the sports bra you wear.

Luckily, for you, it seems to distract them for a moment. Out of shock or something else, you don’t quite know. Either way, you know an opportunity when you see one.

Using this to your advantage, you manage to land a solid roundhouse kick to the side of Yunho’s head, quickly subduing Yeosang in the next moment.

Your chest heaves as you pin Yeosang beneath you, a victorious grin pulling at your lips.

Just as you go to say something, a low groan from the male laying on his back to your left draws your attention.

“Oh shit, Universe!” You hop right off of Yeosang to inspect the damage you’ve done to Yunho’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, somewhat in a daze. His hand comes up to cup his cheek, almost affectionately. “Never better.”

“I just kicked you in the face, and you’re acting like a schoolboy who’s just received a cheek kiss from his crush for the first time.” You chuckle, noticing how Yeosang now kneels beside you with an almost pout on his lips. You quirk a brow, “What, you want me to kick you, too?”

Yeosang shoots you an innocent side eyed look, hope shining behind his orbs.

“I can’t wait to tell Mingi,” Yunho chuckles, pushing himself into a sitting position.

“I think Wooyoung might be more jealous.” Yeosang comments casually.

“You guys want me to harm you when we spar?” The appal is clear on your features.

“We don’t get hurt that easily, Dearest, but when it’s you that manages to surprise us, it’s incredible.” Yeosang tells you honestly. “Not to mention how much pride that fills us when you hit us in this context.”

“Not to mention incredibly sexy.” Yunho breathes, still stuck in that daze as the tips of his fingers gently rub over his cheek.

A brief conversation with Hongjoong about that scar that still sits proudly on his chest flashes through your mind.

“It’s impressive.” Yeosang concludes with a firm nod.

“Oh.” You giggle, a heat rising to your cheeks at their praise. “I still worry, though.”

“We know.” Yunho smiles at you, noticing how you gently pull his hand away to place a tender kiss upon his cheek. His ears flare bright red. “The feeling is, and will always be, mutual, Petal.”

You simply smile in response, helping Yunho back to his feet. Still, you cannot hide the concern in your eyes.

“Don’t worry, Petal.” Yunho chuckles, wrapping his one arm around you briefly in order to place a gentle kiss onto your temple. “Believe me when I say we’ve all suffered much worse injuries at each other’s hands before.”

You blink at him in shock.

“Remember how we told that you we don’t hold back on each other when sparring?” Yeosang chimes in.

Realization floods your features, nodding along to his words slowly.

“The bets were the worst.” Yunho hums, clearly reminiscing some past memories. “We would never kill each other, but we’ve gotten close to it a few times.”

Your brow furrows immensely in worry.

“Heat of the moment, Dearest.” Yeosang is quick to explain at the way your lips seem to part with a response. “It’s why we always had at least one of us to moderate the fights when we made bets on each other.”

“I still want to watch you guys fight one another at some point.” You comment, moving off to the side to take a drink of water.

“We haven’t forgotten, Petal.” Yunho grins. “We’re just saving it for now.”

You pout, somewhat dramatically.

“All in due time, Dearest.” Yeosang chuckles. “All in due time.”

You sigh, “I suppose it might be better for when I know how to at least use some weapons. I can study how you guys all use them, then.”

“Exactly.” Yunho nods, before catching himself. “Wait, what?”

“I thought I mentioned that I’m somewhat of a visual learner?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry at him.

A flash of your hands weaving together those flowers in that clearing all those months ago flits through his mind.

“I remember now.” He hums, a loving smile gracing his lips.

A smile which you return.

Yeosang clears his throat, looking pointedly at Yunho. “How’s your head?”

Yunho spares a brief look towards you, a smirk pulling subtly onto his features. He licks his lips. “No complaints.”

The second that you spit out the water you’re drinking, Yeosang has jumped onto Yunho’s back, locking his arms around the elder male’s throat and choking him out. You begin coughing simultaneously as laughter attempts to escape you, Yunho thrashing around with Yeosang clinging like a koala to his back.

Finally, you manage to get your coughing under control as laughter takes over in full swing. Your eyes crinkle as you see the two of them continuing to play fight, Yunho soon tossing Yeosang over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and slamming the shorter male onto the mat below him.

The fact that they can hear how joyous you are in this moment makes each of their hearts swell. A sound neither will ever grow tired of. Knowing that they are the cause only serves to make them happy, pride swelling in their chests despite the circumstances that lead to this encounter. Well, at least for one of them.

You watch on with a fond look in your eyes as you lean against the side wall. That is, until a distant look crosses your features, and you seem to zone out for a minute or two.

“Is everything okay, Dearest?” It’s Yeosang’s voice that manages to pull you out of your thoughts.

You focus back in on your surroundings, noticing the worried tug of both his and Yunho’s brows, the two of them standing before you.

“Yeah,” you send them both a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Now, who’s the distracted one?” Yunho jokes, moving beside you in order to nudge your arm slightly with his elbow.

Yeosang sends him a pointed look before turning back to you. “Are you sure you’re okay, Dearest? San and Mingi told us what happened earlier at the hospital.“

You take a moment to think, brow furrowing slightly as you look down at the ground.

“I just-“ you sigh. “I had so much pent up anger and sadness when I was younger for what he did to me. I never understood why he did it, and now that this has happened, I don’t quite know how to feel.”

“How do you feel, Petal?” Yunho steps in closer, placing a comforting hand onto your shoulder.

“Relieved, in a way.” You reply honestly. “Confused. Maybe a little angry, and a slight bit resentful still. It happened so long ago, that I didn’t think too much of the situation anymore. At least, I tried not to, but seeing him today just brought everything back. I’m still attempting to figure out if I’m actually passed everything with him or not, or if I just wanted to scrub it from my memory. I don’t think I can forgive him, though. Not after what he did to me.”

A brief pause.

“You know, I contemplating running away from home because of him. Just disappearing off the map, and dying in a ditch, because I believed him when he said no one would care.” You swallow thickly. “I was only ten.”

The way you see Yeosang’s eyes flash before you out of the corner of your vision says it all. You don’t even need to look at Yunho to know he does the same.

“Yet, hearing him apologize for things today…” you trail off, finally lifting your gaze to glance at both males standing around you. “Well, it’s like I told San and Mingi earlier today. It did feel freeing. It felt like finally getting an acknowledgment of everything bad he did to me, and him owning up to it. It’s- it’s-” you blink, your lips parting as they twitch upwards, “gratifying.”

Gently, Yeosang takes your hands in his own, yet you still manage to feel the subtle way he cannot control them from shaking.

“Is there-“ he swallows thickly, keeping his voice low as he clears his throat, “Is there anything we can do?”

You take a moment to stare deeply into his eyes, thinking of your answer carefully.

You blink lightly once more.

“No.” You shake your head. “No. I don’t think there is.”

“Petal-“

“The past can’t be changed now, nor do I want it to be.” You cut Yunho’s worried tone off. “I’m not the same person I was back then, but it’s made me who I am today. Yes, he hurt me.” You take a breath. “Am I going to let those old memories control my life? No. Besides, I’ve got more important things to think about now.”

“As long as you’re okay, Petal,” Yunho squeezes your shoulder gently. “That’s all we care about.”

“I’m okay, Yun.” You offer him a small smile before squeezing Yeosang’s hands back. “I’ll be okay.”

A comfortable silence settles over the three of you as you all hold onto each other so tenderly. You know both males will do whatever they can to comfort you, should you ask them to, but right now, you also have other things on your mind. Mainly, moving passed this and getting on with your new life.

“So…” You spare a glance at each male surrounding you. “Weapons?”

Yeosang quirks a brow, “What would you like to start with?”

“You’re letting me choose?” Your eyes widen, and you cannot help the way you begin to bounce on your feet. 

At their nods, a large grin pulls at your lips.

“Is there something you have in mind?” Yunho asks, an eager tone to his inquiry.

Multiple weapons flash through your mind at once, and you bring a hand up to your chest in hopes to quell your racing heart. That’s when you remember the state of your shirt, or rather, your now non-existent shirt.

Humming in thought to yourself, you pull the last few scraps of material off of your body. Gently, you tuck the fabric beside your water bottle, leaving you in just your sports bra for the time being. Not that any of you really mind.

That’s when you get an idea.

“Well, it’d be best to start with something at least somewhat familiar, no?” You look between the two males before you.

“That would probably be best.” Yeosang nods in confirmation.

“Well, since I haven’t seen any of you use any of your weapons yet, I’ll stick with something I’ve used before.” You reply, a knowing grin tugging onto your features. “Could one of you please get me a bat?”

You can see the surprise on both of their features the instant you say this. Regardless, Yeosang makes a wooden baseball bat appear in his hand, presenting it to you almost immediately.

“A bat, Petal?” Yunho’s brow quirks.

“Listen, I don’t want to be playing around with something I don’t understand yet. No matter how badly I want to throw an axe, or stab something with a sword, it’s not worth the risk for my first try.” You reply, grabbing the wooden object from Yeosang’s outstretched hand. “This,” you shake the bat lightly, “at least I’m somewhat familiar with. The worst it can really do is break a few bones at the present.”

“Is that why you were going to use it to bash San’s kneecaps in with?” Yeosang’s eyes shine with nothing but amusement.

“I had a lot of pent up rage as a teenager.” You shrug, stepping back onto the sparring mat while letting the bat spin loosely in your hand. A blink, and you’ve allowed it to fall in a circle, the tip nearly touching the ground before you’re holding it upright in the air. “Reina and I spent a lot of time in rec rooms, smashing shit. Especially when the whole thing happened with her ex first year of university.”

“You’ve mentioned.” Yunho nods, recalling that conversation briefly in his mind.

“There’s a reason he takes my threats seriously.” You grin, stepping up before a fighting dummy.

You eye the test dummy, flipping the bat almost absentmindedly in your one hand.

“Should we be worried?” Yeosang chuckles, a pleasant shiver caressing his spine as he watches you handle that bat for the moment.

“It’s been a while, so potentially.” You shrug, solidifying your hold on the base. “The first few times I ever swung seriously, I kept accidentally letting the bat go. It would go flying across the room and into the wall.”

“We’ll stand behind you, then.” Yunho grins, an eager gleam in his eyes as he sees you beginning to weigh the bat in each of your hands.

Continuously, you do more spins with the bat, tossing it from hand to hand to get a better feel of the wood beneath your grip.

“I wonder how much worse my swing has gotten.” You say, almost absentmindedly to yourself. “It’s been a while. My aim’s also never been particularly good.”

“Oh, come on, Baby,” San’s voice suddenly coming from behind you has you jumping before you’re spinning around to face him. “You can’t be that bad if you’re confident enough to threaten me with it.”

Your eyebrow quirks, noticing all eight of them now standing behind you.

“You think we’re going to pass up the opportunity of seeing you hit something with a weapon for the first time?” Wooyoung grins, almost maniacally. “Not likely, Angel.”

“Didn’t realize I’d have an audience.” You mutter, tightening your grip on the base of that bat in your hand once more.

“We’re only here to encourage you, Starlight.” Mingi smiles, a proud nod to his head.

“Yunho also wouldn’t stop bragging about getting kicked in the face by you.” San adds, somewhat bitterly. “We’re also here to kick his ass afterwards."

You shoot a pointed look at Yunho.

“What?” He raises his hands in his own defence. “I told you already, Petal. It makes us proud knowing what you’re capable of.”

“He’s just hoping you’ll do it again.” Hongjoong hums, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Says the one begging to be stabbed all the time,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“Just say you’re jealous and be done with it.” Jongho snorts, leaning against one of the racks with weights on them.

“Okay,” you huff out a small laugh, turning back around to face the fighting dummy.

Lowly, you can hear them continuing to bicker behind you, and the fact that you can hardly feel their attention lingering on you causes you to relax. Inhaling deeply, you fill your lungs with as much air as you can before slowly exhaling. Shuffling from foot to foot, you gently tap the tip of the bat against the side of your foot in preparation for what you’re about to do.

Raising the wooden object, you let it spin once more in your hand before you’re gripping it tightly in your hold. Lining up your shot, a crazed look takes over your features as you swing the bat to strike at the head of the dummy, letting your adrenaline drive you. The resulting crack fills the room on impact, and the dummy goes tumbling to the floor with little resistance.

Silence surrounds you, and all you can register is a loud ringing in your ears as your chest heaves with each breath. Your body stands over that fighting dummy, now laying face down on the floor, the bat resting at your side with the tip balanced upon the floor.

That felt good. Probably better than it should have for the moment.

You turn to face them, a gleeful giggle falling from your lips, “How was that?”

However, you do not expect the scene that greets you as soon as you turn around.

San has fallen to his knees, his chest heaving as his mouth rests open in shock. Wooyoung is right beside him, both his and San’s chests heaving as the younger supports himself using his one arm on the ground. Seonghwa has a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, steadying himself while the elder can only stand there, stunned, with his eyes as black as night. To his left, Jongho stands, barely holding himself upright against that rack of weights for the moment as Mingi attempts to steady himself against the wall. Both Yunho and Yeosang are not fairing much better, appearing as if they’ve stopped breathing for the time being.

They all look about ready to pounce on you. In a good way, of course.

“Uh…” you blink at them in shock.

A loud crash is heard as Jongho finally loses his balance, a weight tumbling to the ground as it dislodges from the rack. It lands unceremoniously on his foot, of which he immediately grabs, hopping around as curses fall from his mouth.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Immediately, you attempt to rush over to Jongho, only to get stopped by two males.

The breath escapes you as you go tumbling to the floor, the bat clattering onto the mat beside you. You hardly register anything for the moment except the sight of the ceiling above you, and the sound of low, pleased snarls filling the room and surrounding you from all angles.

A male rests on top of you, and you can feel yourself laying on top of another, both with their faces pressed into either side of your neck. Their pleased rumbles reverberate through your chest, every exhale they make tickling your skin. You swear they both begin nuzzling into you, too.

“Geez, if this is how you’re going to react every time I smack something, I think we’re going to need to put some rules in place.” You joke, an amused chuckle spilling from your lips as you see Hongjoong finally pull back from your neck to stare into your eyes.

“My Love, you cannot blame us.” There’s a hint of a growl to his words as his gaze swirls with that all too familiar darkness that you’ve become used to. “You must understand, we’ve been dreaming of this moment for a very long time.”

“What?” The corner of your lips quirks upwards. “Me smacking something with a bat?”

“You using any kind of weapon.” Seonghwa answers, his chest rumbling beneath you once more as his grip tightens against your hips.

He shifts beneath you, and you swear that you can feel something hard already pressing firmly into your ass.

Your breath hitches slightly, and you swear you feel him smirk against your skin.

“So, you really could have done some damage to San that day.” Yunho observes casually with a hum.

“Hey!” Said male whines, finally managing to stand back to his feet.

“I would have paid to see it.” Jongho says, replacing the fallen weight back onto the rack.

“You were the one who gave her the bat.” Mingi recalls.

“And I’d do it again!” The youngest replies, quite eagerly at that.

“Okay, so make sure there aren’t any bats around when we do anything to piss her off.” Wooyoung nods, somewhat to himself.

“More like, make sure you hide all the bats when you inevitably annoy her again.” Yunho teases, the others snickering along in agreement.

“Hey!” This time, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to whine.

“Woah, let’s not rule out the fact that I’m not gonna go around smacking you guys for the hell of it.” You chime in, gently guiding Hongjoong off of you for the moment, much to his displeasure.

“So, you don’t want to smack our asses?” Mingi quirks a knowing brow.

“If anyone wants to smack someone’s ass here, Min, it’s you.” You playfully roll your eyes, noticing how he suddenly averts his own gaze knowing damn well that you speak the truth.

“How did we go from baseball bats to smacking asses?” Seonghwa exhales a long sigh, helping you sit up beside him.

“It’s good for moral support.” San quips, Wooyoung immediately nodding along enthusiastically.

“You want me to spank you?” You look at them expectantly, noticing how red quite a few of them begin to get at your words.

Mingi begins to splutter.

“Well, if you’re offering,” Wooyoung smirks deviously, jutting out his hip slightly as if to put his ass on display.

This earns him a smack upside the head from Jongho, who suddenly cannot seem to meet your gaze.

“I mean, if you want me to,” you shrug, unaware of the commotion you’ve just started.

San and Wooyoung now appear to be wrestling on the ground, arguing about who’s going to get felt up first. Meanwhile, both Mingi and Jongho keep pushing each other back every time the other takes a step forward and towards you. Yunho laughs off to the side while both Seonghwa and Hongjoong begin bickering beside you. The only one you have yet to hear speak since this whole fiasco started is Yeosang.

Turning your head, you nearly jump when you see Yeosang crouched beside you. Silently, he presses a finger to his lips, helping you to your feet as you both slip away during the chaos erupting around you.

Carefully, Yeosang leads you to an area off to the side. It’s quite a long area, acting as a shooting range for target practice more than anything. Given how close it is to where you just were, you’re surprised none of the others have noticed your disappearance yet. Looks like they’re too busy bickering with one another to take note of your absence.

“Yeo?” You blink at him curiously, noticing how he moves around quickly, gathering a few things before standing directly in front of you.

“I had to get you away before they noticed.” He smiles, resting a quiver of arrows against the bench closest to you.

A bow rests in his left hand. It’s simplistic in design, and quite slim, but even you can tell that it’s carved from wood despite the smooth, black paint that covers the entirety of it.

“Are you going to shoot for me?” You cannot hide the excitement in your eyes.

“Perhaps.” A teasing quirk to his lips upwards. “Or maybe I intend for us to shoot together.”

Your breath hitches, a large grin painting your features as you giggle gleefully.

“You know, I’ve always loved archery.” You comment, barely able to prevent yourself from bouncing on your toes as you watch him grab an arrow from the quiver.

“I remember.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Would you like to watch me-“

“Yes.” There is no hesitation in your response, even as you clasp your hands over your chest hopefully. “I mean…” You clear your throat, noticing how he blinks at you in mild shock. “Please. I would love to.”

With those final words, you motion for him to continue.

A kind smile and a nod are all you get in response as Yeosang takes his position on the little shooting platform. Still, he holds that bow in his one hand, placing the arrow into the little nook before taking a deep breath to steady himself. Then, with a smooth precision that you’ve become so accustomed to from him, he lifts his weapon, lining up his shot with the target at the end of the track.

Every movement he makes, every breath he takes, you observe carefully. Your eyes never leave him, noting how focused he looks in this very moment. The string of the bow is pressed against the corner of his lips as he draws the arrow back, arms not so much as wavering even in the slightest in their hold. The line from the tip of the arrow to the end of his elbow is steady, and if you didn’t know him, you’d swear he was a statue rather than a living person in this very moment.

A breath, and the arrow is loosed.

The tip spears through the air, landing in a dull thunk as it meets its target across the way. Naturally, it lands dead centre.

Nothing but awe paints your features as you see him turn to you. Adoration is clear in your eyes as you watch him step up to you, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” You breathe, your hands still clasped in front of your chest.

“That truly means the world to me coming from you, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles softly, bringing his free hand up to gently cup your cheek. “I’m just glad I can finally share this with you.”

“I won’t lie, I’ve been looking forward to this since you mentioned teaching me that day at the mall.” Your lids flutter shut, leaning into his touch.

“Really?” He tilts his head slightly, thumb tenderly stroking along your cheek. At the way you hum in response, he steps in closer, breath ghosting the skin of your lips. “I’m glad.”

Softly, your eyes open to stare deeply into his own. He seems to be studying your every feature, nothing but fondness reflected in his gaze as he cannot help but keep sparing fleeting glances down at your lips.

Your tongue darts out to wet them, and you hear his breath hitch slightly in his throat.

“I always enjoy spending time with you, Yeo.” The admission is but a whisper on your lips, scared that if you speak any louder, you’ll disturb the moment between the two of you.

Faintly, in the background, you can still hear the other seven bickering about something or other. Not that you’re really paying attention to them at the moment.

“The feeling is, and always will be, mutual, My Queen.” He breathes out, leaning forward slightly to rest his forehead against your own.

Your heart flutters.

“Yeosang?”

He hums, tilting his head slightly forward so that his nose brushes against your own.

“Kiss me.”

Like every time before, you do not have to ask him twice.

How the press of his lips against your own always feels just like the very first time escapes you. Always, he holds you gently, pouring everything he is into the movement of his lips over your own. He cradles you close, loving how your own hands find purchase on his shoulders to steady yourself as he kisses your breath away.

It’s slow, and loving. Nothing more expected than what the other is willing to give. All the same, it makes your heart race, nothing but love flooding your veins as he holds you to him gently.

Slowly, he retracts, only for you to quickly press forward to peck his lips a few more times.

He chuckles, “Dearest.”

“You can’t blame me.” You hum, eyes fluttering open as you loop your arms around his neck. “You’re addictive, Yeosang.”

A pleasant shiver caresses his spine as he growls lowly. “I could say the same about you, My Queen.”

You giggle, and it’s still one of the most melodic sounds Yeosang has ever heard in his entire life.

“Now,” you hum, taking a minor step back while unlocking your arms from around his shoulders in order to stare at him eagerly. “Show me how to do that, please.”

Yeosang smiles, his heart thundering inside of his chest. “It would be my honour.”

A dull thud from behind you both draws your attention to see the other seven seemingly wrestling with each other for the moment. Yunho seems to have pinned Mingi on the mat, both Wooyoung and San going after Jongho at the same time. Hongjoong and Seonghwa seem to be attempting to choke the other out while standing on their feet, locked in a stalemate of sorts as chaos thrives around them.

A low chuckle escapes you as you shake your head. “I have a feeling they’ll be busy for a while.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Yeosang grins right along with you. Extending his free hand out to you, his eyes begin to shine, “Shall we?”

“We shall.” You immediately place your hand in his.

Gently, Yeosang guides you up onto that little platform with him, making sure to line you both up with a fresh target on the track.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see his first arrow still sticking proudly out of that first target off to the side.

“How much do you know about archery?” He asks, nothing but curiosity in his gaze as he grabs another arrow from the quiver.

“Honestly?” You take moment to think. “Not much. Other than what you’ve already told me.”

He nods, stepping in beside you as he offers you the bow.

“The hardest part to begin with can be finding enough strength to draw back the string.” He explains, noting how you carefully observe the bow and all its intricate details as soon as you have it in your hands. Your wonder and awe makes his heart skip a beat. “We can practice that a few times before you attempt to knock an arrow.”

“Okay.” Your eyes dart back up to meet his gaze, and you hear his breath catch in his throat yet again.

With a little help from Yeosang, he’s able to guide you on how to properly hold a bow.

“Don’t be afraid of it, Dearest.” He instructs. “You can cause far more damage with a bow than it can ever do to you while wielding it.”

A nod from you is all he receives that you understand his words.

For a few minutes, he has you practice lifting the bow into a shooting stance, and drawing the string back as if you’re about to take a shot. Still, he holds that arrow in his hand, watching on with nothing but loving pride in his eyes as you follow his every instruction with the utmost care.

“You’re doing wonderful, Dearest.” He grins, his gaze dripping with affection as he watches you absolutely revel in his praise. “You’re picking up things very quickly, especially the basics.”

You giggle, a subtle heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, I did spend a lot of time pretending to be an archer when I was younger. I may not have known much, but some of my favourite characters are, so I wanted to be just like them.”

Yeosang quirks a brow, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you avert your gaze, somewhat shyly. “Katniss, Kagome, Legolas. I always wanted a bow from the woodland realm when I was small. I thought the designs were beautiful, and like I said before, I’ve always had a fascination with archery.”

“Remind me to show you my collection soon, then.” He hums knowingly, a fond look dancing within his eyes.

Your whole demeanour perks up even further, “Okay!”

“For now, how about we shoot your first arrow?” There’s nothing but tender love in his gaze as he looks at you, seeing as you begin shaking lightly in excitement. “Deep breath, Dearest. You don’t want to be shooting with a shaky arm.”

You grin, nodding eagerly.

Following his instructions and taking a deep, steadying breath, you manage to calm your nerves slightly. Still, you cannot deny the excitement that courses through your veins as he hands you that singular arrow.

Gently, Yeosang instructs you on how to notch it before drawing it back.

“We can practice with you drawing from a quiver another time.” He says. “For now, let’s just keep it simple.”

“Sounds good.” You smile.

“Okay, Dearest,” he motions towards the target with his head. “Whenever you’re ready.”

A nod is all he receives in response as you take another deep breath.

Looking towards your feet, you take a moment to steady your nerves once more. Shifting your gaze, you study that target across the way, relaxing your shoulders just as Yeosang has instructed you to do. Raising the bow, you draw the string back, lining up your shot as best as you can.

The feeling of his eyes watching you is a little nerve wracking to say the least. You can feel your hands shaking as you attempt to steady your aim, holding your breath as your eyes focus in on the target at the end of the track. With each second that passes, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain the pull of the string, that thin band threatening to snap forward and through your grip at any moment.

There’s a furrow to your brow as you concentrate, but even you can tell how shaky you’ve suddenly become.

Softly, Yeosang moves behind you, placing his hands on your waist in comfort.

“Breathe, Dearest.” He whispers lowly into your ear, causing a shiver to caress your spine as his nose trails up the skin of your neck. “You’ve got this.”

Slowly, his hands begin to trail up your sides. Goosebumps erupt on your arms as you feel him cover your one hand holding onto the bow with his own, the other supporting your arm that’s drawing back the string. His chin rests on your shoulder, head leaning in the softest of touches against your own.

Suddenly, the string doesn’t become as difficult to hold onto anymore.

“Guide me.” His voice rumbles out. “We can make the shot together.”

The soothing timbre of his voice manages to calm you, and you find yourself taking another much needed deep breath. The heat of his body pressing against yours only adds to the moment, and you allow the familiar, comforting scent of sea island cotton to surround you.

You steady your hands.

The arrow is loosed in the blink of an eye, and you barely register the dull thunk of it sinking into the target across the way. All you can think about in this moment is how Yeosang’s hands feel settling back on your waist, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he buries his face into the side of your neck.

“See,” he hums lowly, squeezing your waist gently in his grip. “I knew you could do it."

Blinking to clear your vision, you allow your whole body to relax into his touch.

That’s when you see where your arrow has landed.

An involuntary excited squeal escapes you as you turn around in his hold.

“Sangie! Look!” You giggle, eyes crinkling at the sides with your joyous expression. “We hit bullseye!”

“You did that all by yourself, Dearest.” He grins, hands squeezing your hips gently once more. “I’m so proud of you.”

You begin wiggling happily in his hold, eyes falling shut as you smile wide.

“Leave it to Yeosang to steal everyone’s thunder.” Mingi grumbles from off to the side.

Turning your head, you see him standing with his arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips. The others don’t seem to be faring any better, but you’re too happy to care at the moment.

“Guys!” You bounce on your feet, pointing to the target at the end of the track. “Look!”

Several sets of eyes finally take note of the two targets side by side with arrows sticking out of the centre of each of them.

“Is one of those yours, My Love?” There’s a certain prideful gleam shining within Hongjoong’s eyes as he asks this.

At your vigorous nod, they have all the answers they need.

“That’s incredible, Baby!” San immediately rushes over to you, pulling you out of Yeosang’s embrace and into his own. He immediately lifts you in his arms, laughing along with you in your excitement, much to the elder’s annoyance.

“You did wonderful, Petal.” Yunho hums, being the next to walk over to you. Easily, he pulls San off of you, dragging him back in order for Yeosang to wrap you back into his arms once again.

A firm nod is sent to the taller male from Yeosang in thanks, to which Yunho simply smiles at in response.

A pout rests on San’s lips as he crosses his arms, only lessened by the fact that Wooyoung has to be held back by Jongho in the next second before the male tackles you to the ground in his excitement.

“It’s only because I have such a good teacher.” The way you turn and look back at Yeosang with nothing but fondness in your gaze says it all.

Soft rumbles shake their chests as they observe the scene before them, and they know for a fact that the loving look that resides on Yeosang’s features right this very instant is reflected on all of their own faces right now. Seeing you so happy, and so eager to learn even one of their chosen weapons has both a pride and love unlike ever before filling their chests. Emotions of which they will gladly indulge in when they’re with you, any and every time that they can.

“How was shooting an arrow for the first time, My Divine?” Seonghwa asks, an eager gleam to his eyes.

You smile, hands tightening subconsciously around that bow still held in your hands. You spare a glance down at the weapon. “Wonderful.”

“She’s a natural.” Yeosang hums, never tearing his eyes away from you for one second.

“I swear you’re just saying that.” You avert your gaze shyly, a vibrant heat rising to your cheeks.

“We’re not.” Wooyoung shakes his head almost instantly.

“You’re incredible, Starlight.” Mingi adds without a moment of hesitation.

“Our Perfect Queen.” Yunho’s voice rumble out, growls of agreement sounding around you immediately.

You allow for your eyes to flutter shut, revelling in this moment with all of them for as long as you can as you relax further into Yeosang’s embrace.

“My Lovely Kings.” The words are but a pleasant hum on your lips.

Again, eight low growls rumble out through the room. A smile pulls at your lips as the sound dissipates, allowing for a comfortable silence to settle over all of you.

“So,” Yeosang’s low voice by your ear has you blinking your eyes open, heart skipping a beat as you hear his next words, “Want to see my collection?”

[retnym]

WORLD TOUR- .02

"Your dirty jokes just had to be heard?"

“Hurry!” A scream came from one of the singers in the house, his hair freshly done as he ran into the living room putting on a jacket. His heart was pounding as he and our friends were about to run late to a big live interview. The bassist and drummer already sat in the vehicle waiting for the twins and me who had come over to the house in the morning to do my makeup with Bill but even myself woke up a tad bit later than I Should've.

“It’s okay, Bill.” I walk calmly into the room, wiping my wet hands onto my mini skirt then rolling down these black long sleeves. “We need to go, we literally have 25 minutes to get to the building that’s 26 minutes away!” His voice cracks, he went to go get his brother but he was already joining the two, tiredly yawning. 

Unlike the others he had just thrown something on and put his hair into his usual style.

Predictable.

 “Alright, let’s go, let’s go!” I wind my hand up then pointing out the door. Bill was out the door faster than light itself as Tom took his time a little bit more due to his huge pants that wouldn’t exactly let him run in. 

Of course I had to sit in the middle of the twins. Being smushed together I leaned more onto Bill, his arm slightly around my shoulders to give more room in the back seat. “Sorry Georg!” I apologize for our un-togetherness. He just shakes his head, motioning that it was okay before he speeds down the road for the singer’s sake. 

As we sat in the car with the radio on low, Bill and I took pictures on his phone trying to pass the time as Gustav took a little nap, Georg sat quietly as he focused on the road and Tom sometimes talked to Bill about how the interview was going to go. We haven’t exactly spoken since yesterday, which was completely okay. I would rather have the silence than hear his annoying voice. 

Today will be our first sit down, live interview together. It’s more of a day show like America’s Ellen Degenerous show or like the night shows as well. 

Just German.

Well this will be played on my Youtube channel so I’m going to put captions on it so that others will get our huge announcement as well from this video. But since not a lot of people that speak English will want to see it I’ve had the boys make a video with me to post for the U.K. or the U.S. 

Actually getting to the building is what brought all of our nerves to the roof. Even Tom who was freaking out with Georg. They were being pretty dramatic as they pretended to cry together. Once we parked in the back like we were told, security all ran our way and someone took the keys from Georg to move the car somewhere else while we were inside. Security stood by us as we entered the building.

 Fans somehow found the backway entry and were shouting our names as we passed by screaming for us to give them attention. Sadly we couldn’t acknowledge them.

It almost felt exhilarating to be put in this situation. The running and being hid by screaming people who would just love to put their hands on you in any way they could. Little creepy now that I put it into words. 

Anyways.

We were escorted to an area to be mic’d up. This girl has to put it in areas that won’t be incredibly noticeable. Looking around at the boys as Tom was getting his done lastly, his eyes were on the girls boobs since she was slightly bent over. Scrunching my nose in disgust I look away.

Turning to Gustav I dramatically grabbed his shoulders. “You ready?” Shaking him back and forth he finally put his hands on mine to stop me. “Are you?” He laughs.

I nod like a crazy woman, pulling him into a hug. “I’m a tiny bit nervous.” I chuckle. “I can tell.” 

“Time to get into place.” Bill snaps us out of it and we let go of each other moving to the curtains of the screen. Bill gripped onto my hand and the host called out our names. Well more, “Ladies and Gentles I have the wonderful [Name] [Last Name] with Tokio Hotel!” 

As we joined him near the couches he stood up, greeting us one by one. “Hello, hello!” He shook my hand tightly. 

“Hi, an honor!” I smile and he winks back in response, slightly catching me off guard earning a confused look for a split second.

As we sat down, I was placed nearest to the host, Bill next to and so on. 

The beginning of it all was very cliche, it was the normal stuff we usually get coming to these types of things only this time we got to do it together. 

The questions get a little morbid, asking about our personal life but having to go with it we will change it up in the best way we can to not give out that sentimental information. 

We’re only 18. Some of us being 17 still. 

“So, [Name] you’re starting your tour soon aren’t you?” He places the attention onto me, my face turning warmmer by the second. “Yeah, I am.” I smile, mentally wanting to beat myself up due to the fact that I’ve been stuttering ever so lightly but still being a tad bit noticeable. “Aren’t you going to miss these four boys?” He jokes with me and we all snicker at the thought.

“Well, I won’t have to miss them.” 

“What do you mean?” He tilts his head, not getting what I was laying down.

“She means, Tokio Hotel is joining her World Tour!” Bill shouts mainly for the audience. Everyone gasping at first then roaring into cheers.

Obviously I don’t think that was very expected.

We waited for the audience to calm down and then we continued with the questions. Now changing what he was saying to things about the tour. Were the prices changing? Anything like that. Obviously nothing will be changing except for the fact that the boys will be joining with me. 

Starting in Germany then going around Europe then to the United States of America. Other countries too but that’s later on and their tickets haven’t gone on sale yet. 

Now people in the crowd get to ask their questions. It was mainly to Tom as usual when we’re all together.

“This one’s for Tom and [Name],” A younger teenage girl speaks up as the guy with the microphone holds onto it. “Go ahead.” I smile sweetly to her and Tom nods her way. She looked like she was going to faint at any moment but still held strong.

“How come whenever you guys are seen in public you never go near each other?” 

The group starts laughing quietly, Bill sneakily takes my pinkie with his and squeezes it. I take a deep breath trying not to laugh myself at this godawful question.

“There really isn’t a reason. I guess that’s just what’s seen in public.” I play it off, I thought it was pretty smooth but knowing Tom he was about to do something to mess it up or change it to his liking.

“She really just can’t handle all the heat that comes with being near me.” Like I said, there he goes. He corrected me in a smart way. Everyone started laughing, even the host so my only option was to force it out of me as well, quietly adding in a “He wishes” but it was sadly louder than I wanted because of the microphone thats connected to my shirt. 

I only noticed that because of the “Ohh’s” heard around the crowd. “ I don’t have to wish, it’s my reality.” He smirks.

“Oh you’re right, guys he’s just too hot to handle!” I sarcastically squeal, covering my face to act like I was blushing. He plays along, pointing at me going “See!” 

Luckily the interview moved on from that horrible conversation and it all went smoothly. 

Once it ended and we took off our mic’s we were out the door faster than we could imagine.

Shoving Tom out of my way, I got to the passenger side and sat in the front with Georg, unfortunately having to kick Gustav to the back. He’ll be okay though. 

As Georg started driving, he took the back roads to not have any fans following us out of the area. We all talked about everything and how good it was that we finally had the information about the tour out. All of us complimenting each other on how it went. 

“It went pretty amazing, well except the fact that [Name] kept stuttering like she was in love with our host.” Tom mutters the last part but my head snaps his way and I glare at him. “Like you can talk? Googling over every girl who came up to the mic.” I furrowed my brows. “And barely anyone could hear you, having to repeatedly be told to speak up.” I add in.

“That must’ve been your imagination because I was heard pretty well for what needed to be heard.” He comes closer to my face, I adjust myself to actually look at him. “You think so?” 

He rolls his eyes, getting even closer to the point where our noses were almost touching. “Your dirty jokes just had to be heard?” I quiz him. Georg tapped my thigh, trying to get me to calm down and end it. And due to his delay of a response I thought he was just going to end it and stop talking. Boy was I wrong. 

“Yeah to get desperate girls like you to know they could only be a quick fuck.” He whispered into my ear, only for me to hear. He finally leans back but without even thinking on my part I unbuckle my seat and get inbetween the seats to hit him right in the jaw. Probably hurting myself more than him. The boys all shouted and Georg quickly pulled over, grabbing my waist and shoving me back into the seat. My breathing turned ragged. 

“You’re a dick Tom.” I step out of the car, slamming it behind me. 

As I had gotten a little bit away I held onto my fist and cursed underneath my breath. Hearing a car door open then shut, and fast footsteps heading my way I thought it was Bill coming to check up on me. 

“Seriously? You hit me then run off?” 

Nevermind, I am really bad at this guessing game.

“Why did you come out Tom?” I immediately stop.

He just laughs, looking down at my fist in the palm of my other hand and I move to cross my arms and hide it but still putting pressure on my newest injury caused by Tom’s jaw.

“Can’t believe you actually hit me.” 

“Want me to do it again?” 

“Just calm down, get in the car for their sake. You’re really going to let something I said bother you?” He shames me, he’s really about to shame me? 

“Just leave me be, okay? I’m gonna have Johanna come get me.” I shove him away from me, then grabbing my phone out of my tiny pocket in my mini skirt.

Turning away I heard the doors of a car once again and then the wheels on gravel move closer to me. “[Name], get in the car!” Bill shouts my way but I just shake my head. “I’m calling, Johanna. Just leave without me. I’ll call you when I get home.” I smile sadly, Bill just nods telling Georg to just go but he hesitates at first. Only to get told to go once more.

“He is the most infuriating person on this planet, Jo!” I cried out and she just laughs in response. I threw my head back onto my couch as my cat laid in my lap, shimmying to get comfortable.

My best friend was across from me with her legs laid out.

“I can’t believe you actually punched him.” She giggles mainly to herself. 

“Dude, it felt like an actual out of body experience, I didn’t feel like me.” I rub my face, careful of the piercings on it. 

“What did he even say to make you react that way?” 

Sitting for a moment in silence as I thought about it; 

“Yeah to get desperate girls like you to know they could only be a quick fuck.”

Scrunching my nose in disgust I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter, just know it made me mad enough to punch him.” I sigh.

Tightening my fist I flinch with the feeling of the ice joining back in with the pain. 

“I still wonder.” She frowns.

CHAPTER TWO BABY!!!! Very surprised I got this done so fast after work. I'm pretty proud of this chapter. The next chapter will be tomorrow:) (Hopefully, if not it will be the next day)

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Midnight Rain Ch. 4

Rich Mans World Series | Man After Midnight Series

Donations | Thoughts & Feelings | Chapter 3

“It was fucking wild Seb. She acted like she was her regular old self again and I just know she’s gonna crash and burn it all to the ground.” Brooke said as she helped Seb cook dinner. “Maybe she is just getting back to her normal self Brooke…why is that such a bad thing? It’s been almost 4 months since she lost her child, why does she have to remain in this constant state of depression and wanting to kill herself?” Seb turned asking her as a thick silence fell over the kitchen. 

“I’m not going to kill myself. I lost my baby, that alone will keep me fighting for some while. I have boxes that need donated, Seb if you could handle that or call Anthony or someone, I don’t care who. Just get someone to take care of it. The rest of the items not being donated will be moved to my new apartment across town.” you said causing both Sebastian and Brooke to turn and look at you. “You two can take over the lease here…I don’t want it any longer.” 

“Y/N…I don’t think that’s such a great idea.” Brooke said walking around the island to you. You looked at her, squaring your shoulders. “While I appreciate everything and I do mean everything you and Sebastian have done for me Brooke, I don’t need pity…I don’t need a mother hen standing over me, making sure I don't cry at the drop of a hat. I need a right hand girl who's going to gut the guy responsible for killing my child. If you can’t provide that service now, then guess what? Move along and I’ll find someone better.” You weren’t vicious in your speech, you were stern. You…you were back. “I packed up….her room as well. Donation boxes are in the hallway, if we could get that taken care of before I get back that would be great. I worked on this all night, I am not changing my mind, I don’t want to think about it anymore. I’m going to go meet a friend for coffee, I’ll be back later.” you said as Brooke tried to interrupt you multiple times. 

“Wait, a friend?” It was Sebastian's turn to follow you. “Are you meeting Chris?”  he asked as you grabbed your purse and headed for the hooks that held the keys. “No, I am not. I haven’t spoken to Chris since he left yesterday. I said I was meeting a friend. Not my…” you stopped short before turning to look at Sebastian. “I’m meeting a friend at the Starbucks down the road, if you need me, you may reach me on my cell phone, but unless it’s an emergency, then don’t try to reach me. If I need anything I’ll call you.” you said before snatching up the keys, and walking out the door without another word. 

Sebastian looked at Brooke who stared back at him, “What are you waiting for! Grab your purse and let's go!” he said, huffing out. Like they’d ever let you go out alone to meet someone they weren’t familiar with. 

“So, how are you?” you asked Steve as you both sat in a small circular booth in the back of your favorite coffee shop. Steve smiled while sipping the coffee before looking at you, “I’m good. Better now that we’re having this mini date.” he chuckled as you laughed softly. “A Mini date? If this is considered a mini date…what do you consider a real date?” you asked as he leaned back, smirking at you. “First of all, I’d pick you up, none of this…” he made a motion with his fingers, “driving yourself…you’re a lady, you should be treated as such. Secondly, we’d go to this nice little italian restaurant, I’d rent it out, so it’s just you and I…play romantic music, take our time enjoying dinner, dancing a little. Then, once dinner was done, we’d go for ice cream, then after enjoying an ice cream, I’d be the perfect gentleman and drop you off at your front door, a soft kiss, and then…I’d call you the next day to set up our next date.” he picked up his coffee as his eyes drifted away from you and out the window to your right. 

You stared at him, realizing that you’d never been treated right, Chris never did this, he never treated you like this…you couldn’t recall the last date you went on with him. You smiled and raised your eyebrows as you brought the coffee cup to your lips. “Sounds like you know how to show a girl a good time.” you mumbled out after sipping the hot liquid. You welcomed the burning sensation in your throat, making it difficult to speak for a moment. Steve was incredible, he’d told you about breaking up with his long time girlfriend around 5 months ago, that he’d tried to go out a few times but found the women were really just dating him to get him into bed, which he did not do on the first date. 

Steve also told you about his dog, a golden retriever named Boomer, and his fat orange tabby cat, Bernie, "Boomer sounds like a sweetheart," you remarked, recalling Steve's stories about his furry companions. "And Bernie must keep him on his toes," you added with a chuckle.

Steve nodded, a warmth spreading across his face as he talked about his pets. "Yeah, they're quite a pair. Boomer's always up for a game of fetch, and Bernie, well, he thinks he's the king of the house."

You smiled, enjoying the easy conversation and the genuine interest Steve showed in sharing these details with you. It was refreshing, a stark contrast to the indifferent and self-centered attitude Chris had always displayed. 

As you both continued chatting, you found yourself captivated not only by Steve's stories but by his attentive manner and the way he made you feel valued and respected. It was something you hadn't realized you'd been missing until now.

The cozy ambiance of the coffee shop seemed to fade into the background as you lost yourself in conversation, the hours passing unnoticed. Before you knew it, Steve glanced at his watch and chuckled softly. "Looks like we've been here longer than I realized." You checked the time as well, surprised at how quickly the afternoon had flown by. "Time really does fly when you're having a good time," you replied with a smile.

Steve nodded in agreement, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent a flutter through your stomach. "I've really enjoyed today," he admitted sincerely.

"Me too," you replied softly, feeling a sense of contentment settling over you that had never existed before.

Steve hesitated for a moment, then reached across the table, his hand covering yours gently. "Would you like to do this again? Maybe for a... proper date this time?" You looked down at his hand on yours, a smile tugging at your lips. "I'd love that," you answered, meeting his gaze with certainty.

And as you sat there, hands intertwined, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected moment, realizing that sometimes, the best things come when you least expect them.

Tag List:

@adriellej @auriel187 @patzammit @bval-1

[paperclip-skz]

Princess

fem*Reader x Changbin

*WARNING*

contains: oral (M receiving), over-clothes stimulation, teasing, deep throating, rough dom, jealousy, let me know if I missed anything.

WC: 2k

****************************

It’s been a long ass day. You’ve been practicing since the crack of dawn and the only thing you want right now is to curl up in your boyfriend's arms on the couch and eat an ungodly amount of junk food. 

“One last set” Hyunjin calls out. Your body groans and you with it. 

Changbin walks easily through the doors holding a bag of takeout with him. Your face beams at the sight of him. 

You and Hyunjin have been working on a duet to perform at a new showcase. You've both been working your ass off on this routine. You love the set, it's both sexy and emotional, filled with power and impressive moves to show off both of your abilities. You have to admit though, you are a little disappointed that you're not doing a duet with your boyfriend. 

“Hey princess” Chanbin walks into the practice room holding his arms out. You lightly jog over to him, wrapping yourself into his arms. “Ready?” He asks. 

You slump in his arms, your body practically going limp. “Hyun wants to do one more practice before calling it a day. Think you can chill here for a sec before we go home?” 

You can tell he's trying to hold the disappointment on his face, but he nods again with a painful smile. You give him a small kiss on the lips and jog back to your placement in front of Hyunjin. You start in front of Hyunjin a good foot or two away from him. Even though your body is screaming to give up, you put on your dance face and try to relax your body. 

“Sex to Me” by Charlotte Cardin starts to play. The slow guitar of the beat makes your hips sway in response. Her voice fills the practice room, Changbin has never seen this routine before or heard the song, so he’s seeing this for the first time. The thought sends a weird chill down your spine. 

The song starts slow but quickly picks up making Hyunjin spin your waist to face him. He grabs your hips and your arms rest on his neck trying to follow the beat, once the song changes its tempo Hunjin spins you away from him and holds on to your wrist. He spins with you, your front becomes flushed against his back. 

You and Hyunjin go back and forth. Coming close to each other and crawling away like your minds are battling with each other. It’s not long until you and Hyunjin are pressed against each other, matching the temp, the song is so intimate. The second verse takes over the speakers and you walk slowly away for Hyunjin to do his mini solo. 

However, it's quick. So in a matter of seconds, you're sprinting toward Hyunjin and he catches you, stopping your momentum. He spins you around a few more times until he lets you go to do your last solo.

Your hips sway with the song, you fling your arms across your body showing off every curve flawlessly. At one point you crawl onto the floor making it as sexy as possible, touching yourself over your clothes and swinging your legs around you to bring you back up. 

To end the song you and Hyunjin are pressed against each other, it ends with you behind Hyunjin, arms draped over his shoulder, and his head down in defeat. 

By that time you are both out of breath, panting and your body is screaming for a break. You look to your boyfriend assuming you’ll find adoration and pride on his face, but that's not what you see. Instead, he looks… unaffected, his knuckles are white and his chest is heaving. He doesn’t look mad persay, he just looks…bothered. 

You slowly walk over to him and place your hands on either side of his shoulder. “You okay?” you ask concern written all over your face. 

All he does is nod and motions his head to the door, a clear sign he wants to leave. You shake off his weird behavior and just assume he wants to go home. 

You exchange your goodbyes with Hyunjin and grab your water bottle on the way out, Changbin 5 steps ahead of you. You have to speedwalk just to catch up with him. “Babe, are you sure you're okay, You're acting weird?” 

He hums in response, it doesn’t reassure you, it only worries you more. Could it be the dance? Maybe he's just really tired? You keep coming up with excuse after excuse, it's not until you walk into your shared apartment that the silence finally kills you. “Baby, what's wrong, I really don’t know why you're acting like this?” 

You turn around to face him, but he's still facing the now-locked door. You see his shoulder rise and fall in heavy breaths, you can tell he's tense. 

“You let him touch you like that?” 

At first, you’re confused. Touch me? Who’s touched me? Until it clicks. “You mean Hyunjin? Wait are you mad about the dance?” you question and he slowly turns his head to face you. His eyes are dark and you're almost scared of him stalking toward you in a confidence you’ve never seen in him. But that fear quickly turns into excitement. 

Instinctively you you take a step backward, but he's quick to swing his arm to the side of your head, pinning you to the wall. You can feel his breath heavy on your skin, he brings his lips impossibly close to your neck, and they travel up to your ear. “I’ll say it again. You let him touch you like that.”

You can feel your heart pounding out of your chest, your panties have become damp, and your lips part. Your eyes fight to stay open wanting to see exactly what he will do next. His hand slowly moves a strand of hair that fell in front of your eyes. “You must love teasing me princess” he all but whispers. 

You breathe a sigh. His breath is hot against your skin, it burns with every breath. He places small kisses on the underside of your jaw and you crane your neck to give him more access. 

His warm breath sends chills through your body, making every nerve vibrate. Your hands claw at his shoulders bringing him impossibly closer, only the fabric of your clothes separating your bodies. 

His kiss grows hungry, leaving plump red marks along the side of your jaw and down your neckline, traveling to your collarbone where he slips his finger under the strap of your tank top. You’re wearing your practice gear, a simple black tank top, and leggings that hug your curves. 

“You’re lucky I let you leave the house in this” His hands grip your hips and he pushes his bulge against your front. Your core pulses when he rubs his erection over your leggings, your core begs for the friction, but you need more, you need him. 

“Bin” you pant. 

“Don’t Bin me, princess. This is supposed to be a punishment” he growls. 

He tugs the other strap of your tank top letting the strap fall off your shoulder. The material sticks up, the only thing preventing the fabric from falling are the curves of your breasts. His eyes stare hungrily at your curves, then back to bore into your gaze.

His fingers hook under the waistband of your tank top and he gradually pulls it down, revealing your black sports bra. The bra does wonders to keep your breasts from moving too much, but it's at a price. The bra holds your breasts together tightly, making them appear bigger than they are. 

The tank top rests lazily around your waist, giving Changbin full access to your trapped breasts. 

His hand palms your left breast, kneading it roughly. “These are mine” He leans forward to kiss just below your ear. Your body tingles at the sensation of his hot breath. “On your knees princess” 

You obey his order with ease, falling to your knees in front of him. His frame is towering over you and his shallow smirk is smug on his face. His hand caresses your cheek, admiring your doe eyes and bashing lashes. His hand slowly slides down your cheek to fondle your bottom lip. Slowly he slides his thumb between your teeth and presses against your tongue, the action sends your jaw open.

Changbin removes his thumb and replaces it with two fingers, the pressure of two fingers makes you gag as he pushes deeper into your throat. 

Normally you’d be embarrassed by the drool running down your chin or the noises you make when he pushes his fingers to the back of your throat, but seeing the hunger in his eyes and the bulge poking through his pants, only makes the wetness between your legs sticker. 

He pulls his fingers out, letting them fall to his side. He stares at you, “Jagi, you look so beautiful on your knees for me.” 

You can see the love in his eyes, you feel his gentleness in the way he caresses your cheek, but you can tell what he wants. He’s quick to rid his pants and boxers and presses his length to your lips. You open slightly, only letting the tip slide in. You swirl your tongue around him, watching the way he rolls his eyes to the back of his head. You keep your hands on your legs, only using your head to give him pleasure. 

As you enjoy teasing his tip, you feel the grip of his hand in your hair, pulling you away from him. “Open” is all he says, and when you comply he pushes his full length all the way to the back of your throat. He uses the grip he has on your hair to move your head in and out.

Your lips wrap around his cock in a tightly, giving him the pleassure he needs. You bash your lashes up at him, you know it drives him wild seeing you pretty around his cock. You swirl your tongue around his length which sends a growl to vibrate through his chest. 

You’ve never been this wet before, your practically pooling in your leggings. The need in your core becomes too overwhelming to ignore. So, you reach your hand to meet between your legs, you rub the pads of your fingers over your folds to give you a sliver of friction. Your desperate to find your sensitive buf over the fabric. 

“What are you doing princess?” Chanbin studies you. Watching you bob your head on his dick while pleassuring yourself. The pads of your finger graze your sensitive bud, which makes you moan loudly. You quiver over his dick and it sends chills down his body, “fuck”

Chanbin throws his head back and his face makes a perfect “o”, as his grip tights around your hair. He uses his hips to guide himself in and out of you. You mimic his thrusts on your folds, messy and swift. You can quickly feel the knot in your lower stomcah begin to fold, but before you can feel your release wash over you, you can taste the warm, satly purts of cum. 

His groan echos through the room and with a few last deep pump into your hollow mouth, he pulls out, a small line of spit still connecting the two of you. “Fuck jagi”, he looks down at you, hair a mess, cum dripping down your side, and hand still strategically placed between your thighs. 

Chanbin lowers himself; leaning down to be face to face. His hand comes up to rest on your cheek. Your body is still internally frustrated because of the denied orgasam. “Look at you, your so beautiful…” he pauses craning his hand back into your hair “and so mine” he growls his last statement. Suddenly he’s picking you up and swinging you over his shoulder. 

With a slight smack to your clothed ass he staunts through the house. “Yah!” you shout, trying to squirm in his steel like grip. 

“Now Jagi, let me take care of you properly” 

[runwithwolvcs]

Addicted To You

Play With Me

Words: 2500

The Past

“Sulli?” He called for her, sitting on her bed to wait for her to come out of her hiding spot,   “Guess I’ll have to eat these cookies by myself,”

She stuck her hand out from under the bed, he quickly grabbed it and slid her out. “No! Paul, stop!”

“No more hiding under the bed.” He told her. The older boy helped her up to her feet before handing her a cookie.

“I like it there.” She said, “It's safe.”

“You are safe with me too,” He reminded her, before motioning her onto the bed, “C’mon”

“Leah and Sam were arguing again,” She told him quietly, leaning into him. Sulli had found his feverish skin to be something of a comfort in her time at the Clearwaters, and always sought it out, even in the other boys when they were around. None of them made her feel as safe as Paul, although Embry was a close second. She liked how quiet he was compared to the others.

Paul sighed,“I heard,” 

“When my mom used to get mad at my daddy, she would throw things at him and one time, i tried to help my daddy and got cut by the glass and now I have this scar,” She pointed to the faded scar just below her eyebrow. “He was so mad after he made me go to the bathroom and told me to hide in the tub until he came to get me,”

“No ones going to hurt you here.” Paul told her softly, matting down her hair that had gone all messy due to her hiding under the bed,  “We’re family, we all love each other,”

 She tore a piece off her giant cookie as she told him, “My mom said love hurts and you just have to deal with the pain.”

“That's not true, Sulli.” He scoffed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, “The people that love you will never hurt you.”

“But she loves me,” She insisted, although Paul had never questioned her mothers love for her. Sulli still felt the need to defend her.

“Love is about happiness.” Paul said quietly,  “You do things to see the person you love smile and that makes you happy, you don’t want to see them in pain, or hurt.”

“Oh,” She asked curiously, “Are you in love?”

He chuckled at her innocent question and nodded his head, “Yes,” 

“You have a girlfriend?” She asked, though she frowned as she said it.

“I don’t.” He denied with a small chuckle at her reaction. Sue had joked that Sulli had a small crush on Paul, to which the little girl denied. She said she couldn’t possibly have a crush on him because he never wore shoes outside and was constantly covered in dirt. 

“So how are you in love?” Sulli asked with her typically wide eyes of curiosity. 

“You don’t need to be in a relationship to be in love.” He explained, adding, “I love a lot of people. I love my dad, I love the pack, I love you, Sue, and Emily. That's why I protect everyone, because I love them. I don’t want to see the people I love hurt or sad.”

“I don’t know,” She shared with uncertainty,  “My mom and dad do love each other, and they love me.” 

“Okay, Sulli.” He wasn't going to argue with her, Paul was constantly reminding himself that he was talking to a kid who couldn’t see things as anything other than black and white.. She would know when she's older what real love feels like. He would make sure of it. Paul stood up with a small sigh and took two long strides towards the door.

“Where are you going?”Sulli asked, her lip jutting out slightly, making her seem like the kid she was rather than her normal stern look she wore. She was a mini Sue in the making.

“I’m going to have a nap,” He told her. Paul had taken residency in the guest room across from Sullis. While he had been there the week leading up to her arrival, it was starting to be a more permanent fixture in the Clearwater house. “I’ve got work later,”

Sulli frowned. She thought he’d at least be home for dinner, but recently he was gone all morning and all night. With a distinct tone of disappointment, she asked, “Again?” 

“Yeah,” He nodded, frowning to match her own. 

“You can sleep in here,” She offered with a sense of hope. Sulli didn’t want to be left alone anymore, not after Paul's reassurance that Sam and Leahs argument wouldn’t lead to anything more serious.  “I even have a new book to read to you so that you can sleep well.”

“You sure?” He asked with his hand lingering on the doorknob as he watched her grab a new book she and Sue must have got at the library. It was more of a novel than the little books she had been reading before, though everyone in the Clearwater knew she had a more advanced reading level than any eleven years old they knew.

“Yeah,” Sulli confirmed before climbing back on her bed, leaving space for him beside her before she was patting the spot as an invitation.  “C’mon, now.”

------

The Present

“Are you just going to stand there?” He grumbled through the dark. His head didn’t even lift to see who had opened the door, allowing the hall light to shine into his dark room. “Or, are you going to join me?”

A smile teased at Sullis lips. The sound of his deep, sleepy voice made butterflies erupt in tummy. She had many sleepovers with men after getting a little too drunk, but none ended up with her waking up alone in a bed that was not her own. She was dressed in Paul clothes, the scent of his cologne lingering and slightly wondered how much of a fight she had put up with him while trying to get her out of her tight, little dress, “Not with that attitude.”

“C’mon,” Paul groaned, turning onto his back and slinging an arm over his eyes after peering over at her. The light is most likely burning them.

Sulli shut the door to the hallway and padded her way over to him. The older man held up the duvet, allowing her to join him under the warmth. Paul's house was as cold as Sues was, and with the temperatures quickly dropping as winter approached, she was thankful he had put her in sweatpants and a hoodie.

Paul gave her space in his bed, nearly a forearm's length apart. It was space that she didn’t want. All she wanted were his comforting arms.

“I’m overwhelmed,” She whispered into the darkness as she laid on her side, looking at his silhouette. 

Paul moved onto his side, facing her before responding, “Why?”

“If I let you get close and then you disappear again,” Sulli stopped, tears filling her eyes as she choked up, “I can’t go through that again. Not with you.”

“That's what you're worried about?” He chuckled, as if it were the most dramatic thing he had ever heard. 

“God, you are such a jerk,” she sat up, disgruntled and the start of a headache starting to build left her with zero patience for a man who couldn’t handle her emotions.He had been so good with her when she was younger, always sitting with her and letting her talk to him like a friend. Now, she really had no clue who Paul Lahote was. Sulli moved to get off the bed before she was pulled right into his chest, their faces mere inches apart. She could feel his chest rise with every breath he took, as if his own actions caught him off guard.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sulli,” He murmured quietly.

Though the younger girl was no longer having his charming ways, she wanted him to be real with her. Just once. Shifting onto her back, allowing him to keep his grip on her waist, she brought up something that had nagged her from childhood,  “Paul, you could find a wife and start a family and forget all about me within a year.”

“Not going to happen.” He refuted, his hand left her waist and  began to travel up her arm, leaving her skin tinged with heat as he did.

“Your wife could hate me.” She pointed out. 

“Not likely.” He denied, his hand brushing over her shoulder before moving up her neck. His index finger tracing her jawline.

“Paul,” Sulli sighed, looking back to him

“Sulli,” He mocked, cupping her jaw and keeping her gaze on him,“What if I told you that you were the only girl for me,”

She laughed at the ridiculousness of his suggestion,“I’d say you're full of shit and trying to get back on my good side.”

“You’re my imprint.” He said, an emotion she couldn’t detect in his tone. Though the word was familiar from the night before, he had yet to tell her it's meaning. Or at least, she doesn't remember the conversation happening, if it did.

“I still don’t know what that means,” She spoke quietly, bringing her own hand to his face, tangling their limbs. She swiped her index finger across the bow of his lips, mesmerised by him. She wanted him, all of him, in an explainable way. Though she figured this was what he was trying to tell her. An imprint, a mark made by someone that had the potential to be long lasting, depending on the surface.

“It's a wolf thing,” Paul answered, his eyes searching her face for a reaction as he continued. He seemed uneasy. As if he could possibly scare her off. Sulli was the most at ease she had felt in years, maybe it was the comfy mattress she was currently on, or the clothes of the man in front of her that engulfed her body. Most likely, it was the heat of the man who had once saved her from her own mind, allowing her to be a kid in a situation that should have never involved one, “Our imprint is our anchor, I guess. A reason to keep hold of our humanity, but also a reason to continue phasing. Someone to protect, and love. ”

“Like a mate?” She asked, she had read about wolves having one mate for their life span. Building and growing with the pack, but never leaving their one true mate, even if one were to die. 

“I guess, yeah.” Paul agreed, mentioning, “It has to do with our ancestors, or at least that's what the elders say. They think imprints are beneficial to their wolf. We are whatever our imprints need us to be for them, a brother, friend, lover..Our imprint is the force that keeps us grounded, it's like we no longer need gravity. Just them. ” 

“But I was a kid.” Sulli brought up her sole focus on his use of the word lover. 

“I know,” He reassured, stroking her cheek as he thread his knee in between hers, binding them even more. “Until you kissed me, I never saw you as anything but a little sister to me.”

Sulli nodded. Her mind worked overtime to keep up with what he was saying, to make sense of it all. Looking at him with bashful eyes, she couldn’t help but ask,“You’re not going anywhere?”

“Not unless you tell me to go.” Paul's face softened, a look he had rarely on his face now, but was in a constant state when she was a kid. 

“And if I do?” She asked curiously. Not that she would ask him to leave, she had plenty of reasons and opportunities over the past month, and yet she felt herself being drawn to him like a magnet even more. The imprint, she supposed.

Paul's brows furrowed as he thought about what she asked, “I don’t know..That's never happened.”

She sighed, “I don't want to hurt you, Paul.”

“Hurt me how?” His eyebrow raised in question. 

“What if I'm not what you're expecting.” Sulli asked surly. She was a lot of things, but damaged was written in bold and underlined twice in her book. 

“I spent ten years feeling every bit of pain you were in,” The older man pointed out, “I thought you were stuck in one shitty home, not multiple. I know what I’m expecting, and I’m okay with giving you anything that you need. Do you need a punching bag? Hit me. You need to scream? Go for it. You want space? I’ll give you it.” His tone was as serious as she had heard it, letting her know that he was all in to reclaim his spot as top wolf in her life. “I just need you to tell me what you want. I can’t read your mind.”

“My coping method is sex,” She noted. It had been since she was fifteen. It allowed her to escape for as long as she could, masking the pain through pleasure and faux affection.

Paul grinned boyishly,“Great, I love sex.” 

“Paul!” She giggled, “My therapist doesn’t think it's great. She thinks I’m an addict.”

“Partially my fault.” He added, and she looked at him in confusion.

“Hm?”

“We are tethered, we feel everything the other feels.” He explained, moving his hand back to her hip to give it a quick squeeze before slipping his hand beneath her sweatpants and caressing one smooth globe a flesh,  “So, if I was hooking up with some girl, you’d probably get horny too.”

“And we both know you were a horndog.” Sulli teased, “Mr. I Don’t Have A Girlfriend.”

“I didn’t have a girlfriend,” He murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. He was so close she could feel his breath against her lips. So close she could kiss him.

“Mhm,” Sulli tsked, “I know a player when I see one,”

Brushing his lips against hers quickly, and teasingly, Paul mumbled as he pressed his pelvis into hers. His hormones on full display like a teenage boy in bed with a girl for the first time,“Hmm, I only want to play with you though,”

She breathily moaned at his touch, “I’ll play with you.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi! i’ve never done a request but i would like a smut with javier peña with 23 and e. (i hope the request is in the correct format) thank you ❣️

After Hours.

23. "Good girl" / "Perfect girl" & e. Heatwave

Pairing - Javier Peña x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1050

Warnings - smut. cursing. javi is a menace.

Author's Note - I know i've taken a hiatus from writing mini fics to focus on my big series fics, but I got this request and had to write it asap. what can I say, I'm a sucker for my javi. honoured to be your first request my love!! <3

written as a part of my drabble/mini fic series, for my 500 followers/1k celebration!!

1k Celebration Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist. Main Masterlist.

There's just something about Javi when he's hot.

Colombia is warm, on any given day. But this summer, it's sweltering.

There's minimal air conditioning in the precinct, meaning the place is like sauna. Sweat is dripping down your back, plastering your hair to your face, sticking your thighs to your leather chair. Everyone's lethargic. It feels like the world is moving in slow motion.

Javier isn't helping. He's rolled his sleeves up his forearms, exposing gorgeous, corded muscle. His hair is damp, curling at the ends, falling in front of his face. He keeps panting, taking these deep, heavy breaths. Every now and again, he releases a deep groan that rumbles in his chest.

It's torture.

He's never looked more handsome. You're convinced that half of your body heat has been caused by Javier, not the humidity. It only gets worse throughout the day. There's a fire lit within you, and Javi's only adding to the kindling.

You undo the first few buttons of your blouse, fanning yourself with a case file. Mostly everyone is leaving the precinct, going home as soon as the clock hits five. You've opted to stay, completely behind on your mountain of paperwork. You look across the room briefly, and see that Javi's still at his desk, choosing to stay too.

The two of you are the only ones left, working in comfortable silence. The heat doesn't let up, swallowing you both slowly but steadily. You look over at Javier to see that he's unbuttoned his shirt, his chest almost fully exposed. For a fleeting moment, you imagine sinking your teeth into the flesh of it. Man, you need to cool off.

You're lost in your thoughts when Javi sits down on your desk, making you jump.

"What are you thinkin' about, hermosa?" he drawls. "It's got you blushin'."

"Nothing," you reply defiantly.

"No? You see, you got a look in your eye. I know that look. I've seen a lot of women give me that look."

"Oh yeah? All your whores?"

"Now, now, cariño. Don't get jealous. Although, it does look good on you."

Javier slides along the desk until he's at the edge of it, as close to you as he can be. From this distance, he's got a nice view directly down your blouse. You catch him staring, and quirk a brow.

"Do you mind?" you tease, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Oh, hermosa," he drawls lowly. "You wouldn't be showin' all this cleavage if you didn't want me to see."

"I got too hot, you perv. We're in a damn heatwave."

"It is hot in here, now that you mention it," he murmurs, tracing his fingers up your arm, towards your collarbone. "Maybe we should cool you off a little."

He runs his fingertips over your throat gently, until he reaches the collar of your blouse. He slips it off your shoulder, and leans forward, kissing a gentle kiss to your bare skin.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, sweet thing," he whispers against your neck.

You whine in response, and tangle a hand in his hair, pulling him into you.

"Don't stop. Please, Javi."

"Oh, I think you sayin' my name like that is the prettiest sound I've ever heard," he smirks.

Javier kicks your chair out from the desk, and moves to settle on his knees between your legs. He licks a stripe from your ankle to your upper thigh, groaning when he tastes the salt on your skin.

"Javi," you breathe. "What if someone walks in?"

"Relax, hermosa," he reassures against your leg. "No one comes back to work on a Friday night."

"You better hope that's true-" Javier cuts you off by mouthing at you over your underwear, revelling in the dampness of the fabric.

"You taste so fuckin' sweet," he murmurs in disbelief. "Waited to do this for so long."

"You have?" you question shakily, keeping your hand firmly planted in his hair.

"I think of you everytime I touch myself, hermosa. You're all I can think about. You, you, always you."

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls them off, shoving them into his pocket. Javi wastes no time, diving straight into you with vigour. You tug at his hair instinctively and he groans, deep and guttural. The vibrations make you keen.

Javier slips a finger into you, panting when he feels how warm you are. He thrusts in and out steadily, before adding a second. He curls them on the up stroke, chuckling when he hits a certain spot.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Right there? Is that it, hmm?"

You nod in response, hips writhing in the chair.

"Where are your words, pretty girl? Have I made you dumb, huh? Always knew you'd be so pliant, so obedient. Isn't that right, honey?"

"Yes," you whine. "Yes, yes, yes. All for you, Javi."

"Fuck," he groans. "Good girl. My perfect girl."

He can tell you're close when your thighs start to shake. You tug him closer to you by his brown curls, fingers tightening and pulling.

"You're almost there, aren't you? Atta girl," he encourages, speeding up the rhythm of his digits. His other hand moves to splay across your abdomen, pushing your hips down to stop you from moving.

"That's it, baby. Give it to me. I want it. Come on, sweet thing. Fuck, please, honey."

His low, rumbled words are what push you over the edge. Your hips buck and your grip on him tightens, white hot pleasure burning through your veins. He talks you through it, whispering praises and encouragements until you go slack.

"You're a goddamn liar," you tell him when you've caught your breath.

"Hmm?" he murmurs from where he's looking up at you with those chocolate eyes, resting his head against your thigh.

"You said you'd cool me off. You've made me ten times fucking hotter, asshole."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through your bones where you're connected.

"You wanna come home with me, take a cold shower?"

You laugh in disbelief, shoving at his shoulder playfully.

"Fine. But only because your apartment is closer than mine."

"No other reason?" he winks, grabbing your hands to help you to your feet.

"No other reason."

You both know that's a lie.

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 11: Home not so sweet home

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Moldy Voldy [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The sun is shining brightly with not a cloud in the sky. A soft breeze sways the leaves on the trees which tower over the manor. And despite that sunny and happy weather outside, you feel dreaded entering the house.

The pointed roofs and gothic architecture never looked so menacing as now. The perfectly manicured lawn looks like it has thorns and skulls as flowers while the white peacock in the distance looks like an omen of death.

Both you and your cousin stand at the end of the long driveway, your luggage floating towards the front door. Aunt Cissy motions for the two of you to hurry up. 

Glancing at each other, Draco gives your wrist a reassuring squeeze before marching up the gravel path. You linger for a while longer until you can't.

It's quiet when you enter the manor. More than usual. All sounds, even those from outside, seem to have disappeared. No creaking of the house, ticking of clocks, nothing.

Your aunt turns to you, a sorrowful look on her face. "The Dark Lord is expecting you in the library."

You want to shake your head. Scream, cry, yell that you don't want to see him. You're scared. So fucking scared to meet him. But, you don't have a choice.

With a meek nod, you turn on your heels and make your way towards the library. You ignore Draco's shaken look as his mother hugs him and leads him to the other side of the house.

The floorboards under your feet creak as you stand in front of the double doors of the library. You raise your fist but before your knuckles make contact with the wood, the doors swing open.

He stands in front of the large windows that oversee a part of the gardens, his back turned to the door and his hands are clasped behind his back. He is almost as pale as a sheet, blue veins running over his bald head.

When he turns around, you have to bite back the gasp of horror you want to let out. His face can only be described as snake-like. Two slits are where a nose should be and icy blue eyes set in a too-pale face. 

He is nothing as you imagined. You once or twice have searched up the name Riddle in the school records to look at the picture of all the prefects. At that time, Tom Marvolo Riddle was a handsome seventh-year boy. Dark hair, high cheekbones, and a proud look on his face.

Tom Marvolo Riddle is obviously gone and in his place is Lord Voldemort.

You don't know whether to bow or nod, so you look at the ground once he catches you study him.

"My Heir." His voice is breathy, almost whisper-like. He opens his arms, "come here."

Your feet move with a mind of their own. You scale the size of the room and stop in front of the imposing figure. He wraps his arms lofty around you. A chill spreads through your body as a cold hand presses against your back.

Taking a step back, you try to even your breathing. "My Lord." The title comes out in a whisper. You're utterly terrified of what this man will do, will say.

He tsks disapprovingly. "When we are in company of each other, you may call me Father, my Heir."

"Yes... Father."

Voldemort nods approvingly. He studies you once again, his icy eyes trailing every inch of your face and hair. "I've been told you are sorted into Slytherin. Naturally."

You nod. "Yes, Father." You don't know what else to say. But it seems like he is expecting more. "My studies are going well. I am staying out of trouble and keep with our own kind."

It's the safe answer, one you know satisfies him. And it does. He dismisses you with a wave of his hand and you don't know how quickly you have to get out of the library. 

When you enter your bedroom, Draco is already sitting on your bed, an anxious look on his face. "Is it really him?", he asks in a whisper and you nod.

You go sit down next to your cousin. The two of you sit in silence for a while, until Draco opens his mouth. "How is he?"

"Terrifying", you admit. "You feel his power when you are in the room with him."

"Mother says he can read minds."

You look at him with wide eyes. That can't be true... right? It means that even our thoughts aren't safe.

"Well... Then we have to watch out for what we think."

Draco nods and you sit in silence once again. You lean over and lay your head on his shoulder. Draco has never been a big fan of being touched — it may come from being barely touched as a child by his parents — but for you, he makes an exception. 

"Everything is going to change from now on, isn't it?"

He hums sadly. "I'm afraid so."

You spend the rest of the day cooped up in your room, unpacking your school trunk and dusting your room. Even though Aunt Cissy makes the house elves clean your room regularly, it's always nice to do a once-over.

Around dinner time is a knock on your door and you're being called to dinner. Nervously, you make your way towards the formal dining room. It's tradition to eat there when you and Draco have returned from your year at Hogwarts.

Entering the room, you see your aunt and uncle — both looking rather unwell — and your cousin sitting at one end of the table and Voldemort sitting at the head on the other side. 

"My Lord", you greet your father with a polite nod. Unsure of where to sit, you move to sit next to Draco. But the chair next to Voldemort gets pushed back by magic and you get the hint.

With uncertain steps, you go and sit to him. Draco and you make eye contact but remain silent. 

The majority of dinner is spent in silence. You do not dare to speak out loud and it seems like the Dark Lord likes the tense silence his presence brings. It's only when the desert is brought that he speaks.

"It seems you are very popular at school, my Heir. Not a full day at home and you already received a letter." Voldemort holds up a wax-sealed envelope.

He watches how you take it and break the seal. Unfolding the envelope, you start to read. It's a rather short letter really.

Do you want to hang out sometime? It's what friends do, you know. We could meet up in two weeks. That's just enough time to miss me.

— Theo

You close your eyes. Stupid stupid boy Theodore Nott. You've hoped to keep him safe from your father a while longer, at least until the end of the summer break or Christmas or whatever. But as Voldemort snatches the letter out of your hands and reads it over, one of his non-existent eyebrows arches up.

"Theo? Who is this Theo?"

You look down at the pie in front of you. "Theodore Nott, my Lord. We've ehrm... We've-" You look for help from your aunt, but her gaze is trained on the table. "We've been introduced last summer and started hanging out this year."

Voldemort looks over at your uncle. "Is this true, Lucius?" The name of your uncle is almost a hiss.

Uncle Lucius gulps before shakily raising his gaze. "Ye-yes, my Lord. We thought the you-young Nott boy would be an excellent match... f-for your daughter... my Lord."

Voldemort hums, dropping the letter next to your plate. "Very well." And nothing more is said about Theodore or the rest of the dinner.

Once you are excused, you rush towards your bedroom to write Theo back. But when you swing open your door, you almost shriek.

A three-metre snake lays on your bed, eyes trained on you. You've heard whisper all day long, but you just chalked it up to Voldemort residing in the manor.

Carefully stepping into the room, you know exactly who this is. Clearing your throat, you open your mouth. "Hello, Nagini", you say in the strange whispers and hisses of Parsletongue.

"Hello, my Heir", the snake hisses softly, sliding off your bed. She slithers out of your room. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of her smooth scales gliding against your ankle.

Sitting down at your desk, you pull out a piece of paper and start to write to Theo.

Sure, we can do that. Do you have something in mind or do you just want to walk around and see what happens? I'm down for whatever.

I suggest we meet up on Tuesday in two weeks. If that's alright with you.

— (Y/n)

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobsessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles

[fanficshiddles]

Necessary Evil, Chapter 7

‘I have to say, my brothers and sisters… I am rather disappointed with you all right now.’ Loki said firmly yet calmly as he paced back and fore on front of everyone.

Everyone was gathered in the compound, listening closely to Loki. They all felt their stomachs drop from the tone of Loki’s voice, he was clearly disappointed but was remaining calm and controlled.

‘We’ve had no new interest at all in the last two weeks. There’s been an all time high in people scanning the code, according to the counter, but why is no one actually turning up, hmm? Who is in charge of keeping the website going?’ Loki stopped pacing and looked around the room.

Maddie raised her hand. ‘I was. I improved it, made it better… or at least, I thought I did.’ She said sheepishly.

Loki ran a hand down his face. ‘What was wrong with the original? It clearly worked better, drawing people in.’

‘I just… I just wanted to try and make it better. I’m so sorry, I’ll change it back right away.’ She said with a slightly panicked tone.

‘No, I’ll put someone else in charge of designing the website. Sarah, you did such a good job with the flyers design and clearly drew more people in to scan the code, would you like to do it?’ Loki asked her.

‘Oh… I would like to, but I wouldn’t know where to start really with computer design.’

‘George can team up with you, he’s a computer whizz.’ Loki said as he motioned to George, who nodded eagerly.

‘I’m up for that, if you are?’ George looked at Sarah.

‘Yeah sure, it'll be fun.’ Sarah agreed.

Sarah could sense Maddie glaring at her, but she didn’t look in her direction, deciding it was best to just ignore her.

‘Excellent.’ Loki rubbed his hands together. ‘Right, I want everyone to think about what else we could do to attract more people in.’

Everyone mumbled to one another a little, then fell silent, with no one coming up with an idea.

‘Nobody has any ideas? I’m really starting to wonder if you want to help me get to Asgard so you can gain all the riches or not.’ Loki tutted, shaking his head.

Though Sarah suddenly had an idea, so raised her hand. Loki smiled at her and nodded at her to speak.

‘What about a billboard? That should attract plenty of attention, could have the QR code on it, too. So many people probably ignore flyers plastered on lamp posts or ones that get handed to them, but billboards tend to be more attractive and get people’s attention.’ Sarah suggested.

Loki smiled widely and walked over to her. ‘Now this, this is the kind of thinking you all should have.’

Sarah couldn’t hide the blush that crept up over her cheeks as Loki reached her and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. ‘Good work, darling.’ He purred. ‘George, see about getting a billboard advert sorted, use Sarah’s design for it and don’t forget to add the QR code. Then afterwards, get the website sorted out again with Sarah. Everyone else, get more flyers out there.’  

Maddie was close to exploding upon seeing Sarah getting praise and affection from Loki, Andy could sense her rage as her hands balled into fists at her side, but he grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly, though it didn’t do much to calm her down.

‘Sarah, I want to discuss the computer design with you.’ Loki motioned with his head to the back room.

Maddie quickly ran up to Loki. ‘I’m so sorry about the website, please let me fix it. I can do better, I will come up with plenty of ideas! I’ll get tons of people through these doors.’ She spoke quickly and there was evident panic in her voice.

‘Maddie, just go put up more flyers. Sarah and George will take over the website.’ Loki said firmly.

He turned to Sarah and put his hand onto her lower back to guide her across the room towards the door at the back. Maddie saw red as she watched them disappear into the back room.

Sarah wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to be behind the door, but it was just like a mini apartment. There was a kitchen joined living room, a bathroom just through a door at the side of the kitchen, then a small bedroom that led off the living room area. It was simply furnished, but cosy and homely.

‘Please, make yourself comfortable.’ Loki motioned to the sofa. ‘Drink?’

‘Yes, please.’ Sarah sat down on the black leather sofa.

Loki poured them both a drink, he’d taken note over the last few weeks what she preferred to drink at the meets. He joined her on the sofa and handed her a drink, making sure to brush his fingers against hers in the process.

‘So, do you really want to discuss the website, or was it just an excuse to get me alone again?’ Sarah asked with a smirk.

Loki chuckled and looked a little sheepish. ‘You’ve caught me. I trust your judgment for the website, so there’s not much else to discuss there.’

‘I didn’t realise you lived here too, it’s a nice place you've got.’ Sarah said before taking a drink.

‘Yes, I don’t need anything bigger, really. This does me just fine for now. Plus, it means I am always on-site for anyone that needs.’

Sarah nodded. ‘Makes sense. You really do have everyone under your thumb, don’t you? They all really believe about you being a God.’ She smirked.

‘Well, almost everyone. You clearly still don’t believe me, do you?’ Loki asked cockily.

‘Nope. I believe you’re doing a good thing here, bringing people together in such a close manner, but there’s no way that Gods are real.’

Loki slid his arm behind her and he trailed his fingers along her shoulder as he leaned in closer, so his breath was tickling her ear. ‘I need to work on getting you to believe me, it seems.’ He purred.

‘Yeah, I uh… could do with some persuading.’ Sarah’s breathing got heavier.

Loki put his drink down, then gently gripped her chin to keep her in place as he pressed his lips against hers, slowly moving them together. Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck as they deepened the kiss, Loki’s tongue slipped into her mouth and he began teasing her tongue with his own.

Sarah moaned against him and found herself trying to get even closer to him. Loki smirked against her as his hands began to wander, slowly down her side and to her thigh.

They were rudely interrupted from someone banging loudly on the door.

Loki snarled as he reluctantly pulled back from Sarah. ‘WHAT?’ He roared, looking over his shoulder towards the door.

‘Loki? I need to speak to you!’ Came Maddie’s voice from the other side.

‘I’m busy! I told you to go put up more flyers.’ He shouted.

‘It’s urgent. Please!’ Maddie shouted back through.

‘Give me strength.’ Loki pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘Better see what she wants.’ Sarah said softly as she cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him on the lips again, making him smile.

‘Mmm, I’m starting to think I should have picked a place to stay away from the compound for some privacy.’ He hummed.

Loki stomped over to the door, he opened it and glared down at Maddie. She could tell by the slightly flustered look on his face that he and Sarah had been doing something, she could also see Sarah sitting on the sofa behind Loki.

‘Can I come in?’ Maddie asked quietly.

‘No. You know no one can come in here unless specifically invited in by me. It’s my private space, Maddie.’ He said firmly.

‘Yes… sorry… I just really wanted to apologise for what I did with the website, I have a new idea for it I wanted to run by you, to show you I can do it.’ She fumbled around with bits of paper in her hands as she began to show him a few ideas she’d jotted down.

‘I told you already, Maddie. Sarah and George are taking over the website design now. Where’s Andy?’ Loki asked and glanced around the compound.

‘He’s just over there…’ Maddie pointed to the kitchen.

‘Andy!’ Loki called to him.

Andy went scurrying over without hesitation. 'What’s wrong?’ He asked.

‘I need you to take your girlfriend home. She’s clearly tired, isn’t listening to what I’ve been telling her.’ Loki growled.

Andy’s eyes widened at the thought of one of them upsetting Loki. He turned to Maddie and took her arm. ‘Maddie, come on.’

‘Wait… Loki, please. I’m sorry, just give me another chance.’ She pleaded.

‘Go home, Maddie. Take a few days out. I don't want to see you here again until Monday at the earliest.’

Maddie’s face dropped. Not a day had gone by that she wasn’t at the compound, she was there most of the time and so was Andy.

Andy managed to drag Maddie away, much to Loki’s relief. Though George then appeared and waved to get Loki’s attention just before Loki shut the door, so he waited for him to approach.

‘Have you seen Sarah? I’ve got the website down for now until we get a new one organised, ready whenever she is.’ George said to Loki.

Loki sighed as his head fell backwards, he put his hands on his hips and stepped back slightly so George could see Sarah. Sarah looked over and Loki motioned her to him.

‘I best let you two sort the website out, fix Maddie’s mistake.’ Loki said reluctantly as Sarah reached him.

‘Maybe we can continue our task another time?’ Sarah asked, biting her lip.

‘Most definitely.’ Loki growled and winked at her.

[eliza-writes-stuff]

hey guess who wrote a songfic

yeah me and i still don't know how to write one lol

so yeah it's another claudeger short fic or drabble... idk what to call it. let's just say i wrote this as a warmup for a longer fic coming up!

anyways, enjoy this very fluffy songfic based on Let's Call the Whole Thing Off :D

i also put this fic in ao3 link so check it out!

The mini boombox plays a familiar tune, yet people might’ve forgotten this ancient song. Since it’s a 150-year-old song… Still, it’s a good classic for Claude. The mutant doesn’t really keep up with the trends unless it’s related to his job. He prefers listening to jazz and some old rock. Everyone has their taste.

Things have come to a pretty pass

Our romance is growing flat

He does not know what Albert’s favorite is. It’s obscure, that’s for sure, but whatever makes him happy. As long as he gets to see Albert do his little dance. Although, his lover loves to drag him along to the beat.

For you like this and the other

While I go for this and that

Oh, Claude didn’t notice that his hands were in rhythmic motion to the song playing. Even though he’s just washing the dishes. It makes it less boring, he guesses. He puts the clean plate on the drying rack, and he continues on the next one.

Goodness knows what the end will be

Oh, I don't know where I'm at

It looks as if we two will never be one

Something must be done  

His ears picked up the sound of footsteps behind him. Claude’s body relaxes when affectionate arms wrapped around his waist. At the corner of his monocle, the head of his lover rests on Claude’s shoulders.

“Hello, Albert.” The mutant greeted. He’s still focusing on washing the dishes. “How did your little nap go?”

“Not the same without you.” Albert’s hands wander on Claude’s stomach.

You say either, I say either

You say neither and I say neither

Either, either, neither, neither

Let's call the whole thing off, yes

“Someone must do chores around here.” Claude said.

“I could’ve helped you...”  

He chuckles, “But you look so peaceful, dear. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Well, Claude knows what Albert’s ability is for his ‘work.’ From what he heard from his boss, plus his lover. Albert doesn’t actually sleep during the duration of his ‘session’.

That’s why Claude drags him back to the couch. To cuddle into a fulfilling nap. They sound like an old married couple, huh? They might compete with Vincent and Victor. Albert would love to relish in that if they were the best couple.

You like potato and I like potato

You like tomato and I like tomato

Potato, potahto, tomato, tomahto

Let's call the whole thing off    

“Hey, our song is playing.” Albert mentioned. His hands now rested on Claude’s wrist. The mutant stopped what he’s doing right now.

“Yeah?” The mutant sets down the dish in the sink.

Albert turns Claude around until they face each other. His hands hold on to the blue, soaked hands. With the song playing in the background. They’re staring at each other with endearment. Sort of romantic. Albert drags him away from the sink. Claude can’t help but let out a laugh.

“Hey, hold on-“

“The dishes can wait, honey.” Albert stops himself and turns up the boombox. Then he leads Claude into the living room.

Their cat, Sock, stares at them with curiosity. The couple tries not to trip over. However, one of them bumps into the coffee table. Albert has his hand on Claude’s shoulder, and the other one is holding his hand. Claude almost forgot what to do, but he rested his hand on Albert's waist. He supposes this is nothing to complain about if he gets to be close to Albert.

Their bodies didn’t move in synchronization with the beat. There were stumbles, and sharing carefree laughter. Very clumsy. They can only dance with uneven steps in this space. Claude amusedly spins Albert underneath his arm before bringing him close to Claude’s body. His heart soars when he gets to see Albert having a genuine smile. But it’s best to not worry about the minor details.

As long as they’re close together, nothing matters..

But oh, if we call the whole thing off

Then we must part

And oh, if we ever part

Then that might break my heart

“Dear,” Albert had to stop his laughter, “It’s strange I wished we would stay like this forever. That I want to be a goby fish to your pistol shrimp.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “Are you saying we have a symbiotic relationship, or are you calling me blind?”

“The first one, of course! But I’m also glad to be your eyes.” Albert leans in close to Claude’s face, noses slightly touching.