#Rental suits AU

[unknownarmageddon]

let’s go to the beach each let’s go get away

killer belongs to rahafwabas cross belongs to jael peñaloza rental suits au belongs to me and @psycho-chair

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Cup of Coffee and a VHS | Pt. 1

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader Coffee Shop!AU

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: The owner of the video rental place down the street from your newly-opened coffee shop is adorable. And awkward. An arrangement to trade free coffee for movie recommendations turns into something more when you discover you both have feelings for each other.

Warnings: None, aside from my questionable attempt at a meet-cute and copious amounts of fluff

A/N: This will be a short miniseries with four parts. The final part will contain smut, but for now it's just winter vibes and awkward fluff. Neil is adorable; I had a lot of fun writing him!

Life was going pretty good. After the grand opening of your cafe a few weeks ago, you had quickly settled into a routine that felt both comfortable and familiar. You were happy, and excited to finally be your own boss after spending so many years as a wage worker for various jobs that you weren’t really passionate about. Business had been surprisingly good, so far. Winter was always a good time for hot drinks and sweet pastries, so you couldn’t complain about the nip in the air as long as it sent people inside your little shop to seek shelter and caffeine.

The day you met Neil started out as a typical one. You got up early, as you always did, to trudge through the dark streets earlier than anyone else in this little sleepy town. Or so you thought.

Something made you turn around as you slid your key into the lock of your little coffee shop, and when you did you were met by a man in a somewhat ridiculous frilled shirt, walking down the street at three in the morning. He waved, noticing that you were looking at him, and then stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Morning,” you said politely. 

You figured that would be the end of the interaction. Instead, the man came closer to you and stopped in front of your store. Not hovering, exactly, but a bit too uncomfortably close for being alone with him in the middle of the night. You had turned back to focus on twirling your key in the lock, but now you whipped around to face him.

“Oh, sorry! Sorry…” the man chuckled. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just realized we’ve never met. I’m Neil Lewis; I own the video rental store down the street.”

He motioned back in the direction he had been walking from, and you relaxed a little. You did recognize him, now that you’d gotten a better look at his face. You had seen Neil around the little shopping district a few times, but had never spoken to him.

You told him your name and took the hand he had stretched out to you. His grip was surprisingly soft, but not flimsy. After shaking hands, you looked him up and down. He certainly was wearing an interesting outfit; almost as if he had come from a party, though you couldn’t imagine where there would be one around here at 3 a.m.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out so early?” you asked. “Or maybe late? I can’t imagine many people rent videos at this time of night.”

Neil laughed, his breath puffing out in front of him in the freezing cold air. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a winter jacket; just a thin suit coat. And one that looked more costume-y than anything. His cheeks were red, and you had the strange urge to cup your gloved hands over them to warm him up.

“Oh! Yeah, no…” Neil mumbled. “I just stepped out for a little fresh air. We’re actually having a get-together for the premier of my shop’s commercial.”

“At… 3 a.m.?” you giggled.

“Well, the primetime slots are expensive, and… Hey,” Neil interrupted himself. “Would you mind if I stepped inside for a minute? It’s freezing out here, and I forgot my jacket.”

“Uh, sure, no problem.”

You finished unlocking the door and let Neil inside, holding the door for him to follow after you as you shook the sludge from your boots. You flipped the lights, and your little coffee shop was bathed in a warm, yellow glow.

“Thank you,” Neil said. “I’m sorry to barge in, but I really appreciate you letting me warm up.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

You weren’t sure what it was about Neil, but he somehow made the small space feel homey. Of course, you felt comfortable being in your own store, but Neil being here with you didn’t feel like as much of an intrusion as you would have thought it would be. Normally you opened and closed the shop alone. It was a little strange to have someone here with you as you hung up your jacket and peeled off your gloves, but not unwelcome.

“Would you like something warm to drink?” you offered. 

“Sure! Hey, I’ll be your first customer of the day,” Neil said cheerfully.

“It’s on the house,” you told him, stepping behind the counter. “First one’s always free; it’s how I get people addicted.”

It took Neil a second to realize you were joking, but when he did a smile spread across his face. You felt your cheeks heat up a little, and not just from being out of the cold. You quickly turned around, grabbing your apron off the hook where you kept it.

“Well in that case, I’ll have whatever you recommend,” Neil beamed. “Chef’s choice.”

You couldn’t help but let a small smile spread across your lips. Neil pulled up a stool and watched you work; the only sound in the room was the gurgle of the espresso machine and the hiss of the frother as you steamed the milk. You quickly melted into the familiar routine of making a cappuccino. The process felt almost rhythmic and relaxing.

“So, what were you doing out there with no jacket in the middle of December?” you asked, trying to make small talk as you finished pouring the drink.

“Oh, like I said, just getting some air. Taking a break,” Neil answered.

“Not enjoying the party?”

You flicked your wrist to make a little pattern in the foamed milk, making sure it pooled just right at the top of the cup. Neil ran his hands over his face, resting his elbows on the counter.

“It’s not that,” he sighed. “It’s just… I dunno; it’s complicated. My girlfriend was supposed to show up, and she didn’t, and I know I shouldn’t be disappointed because she’s never really wanted anything to do with the shop, but…”

You stopped listening, still focused on the fact that Neil had a girlfriend. You weren’t quite sure why you were disappointed to learn that. You certainly had no reason to be. But something in your stomach had lurched when he’d mentioned her, and you’d almost spilled the cappuccino and had to start over. Neil let out a heavy breath of air as you put the drink down in front of him.

“I dunno; we’re probably going to break up,” he finished, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic.

You perked up at that, and instantly felt terrible. Neil was obviously distraught by the idea. You tried to look sympathetic as you wiped down the counter. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said. 

“It’s okay,” Neil sighed. “We just have different interests. Anyway, sorry to heap my sob story on you. You’re probably never going to want to have me back at this rate.”

That really couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Even though you didn’t want Neil to be sad, it was refreshing to meet a man who was sensitive. Sure, the whole situation was a little unexpected - you certainly hadn’t woken up this morning and thought that you would be sitting with the video rental store owner from down the street at three in the morning, commiserating over coffee. But, it had actually been a rather pleasant surprise to end up here.

“Well, it wouldn’t really be a good business move to get you addicted to the coffee and then ban you from the shop,” you joked.

Neil’s face brightened again, and he lifted the cup of steaming coffee to his lips. He smiled at you over the rim before taking a sip, and you watched as he closed his eyes to concentrate on the flavors.

“Hm… very, ah, robust,” Neil floundered.

You giggled, and stepped off to start making a drink for yourself. Neil took another sip, and you caught him grimacing slightly as he lowered the cup from his lips.

“Not a coffee drinker?” you guessed. 

“I was hoping it wasn’t that obvious…”

You laughed again, and threw a glance in Neil’s direction. He was struggling through his third sip.

“You should have said so,” you scolded playfully. “Now I’m worried you’re the one who’s not gonna want to come back.”

“Hey,” Neil said, pointing a finger at you. “I would never turn down free anything, and besides, small businesses have to stick together, right? I’ll be back; don’t you worry.”

As if to prove his point, he took a gigantic gulp, remembering too late that the drink was hot. Neil sputtered and coughed, throwing a hand up to claw at his throat. The way his eyes bugged out of his head was funnier than it should have been. 

“Neil, let me make you something you actually like next time,” you laughed, offering him a napkin.

He took it and wiped at his lips, setting the cappuccino back down on the counter. Your heart swelled again, for reasons you couldn’t fully understand.

“I’m sorry,” Neil apologized. “I’m sure you think I’m a total mess. And I mean, I guess I kind of am-”

“I don’t think that,” you interrupted. “I actually think you’re really sweet, and… maybe a little scatterbrained if you can forget to wear your coat when it’s practically zero degrees out.”

Neil blushed lightly. He looked down at his half-empty coffee cup, and you hoped you hadn’t offended him. Or made him uncomfortable. What had you been thinking - telling him you thought he was sweet? You opened your mouth to apologize, but Neil beat you to the punch.

“I really appreciate you letting me in,” he said again, smiling. “And the free drink. Sorry I’m not that into coffee…”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Neil,” you laughed. “I’ll just have to figure out what you do like - coffee or not - so I can make it for you next time.”

“I’d like that,” he agreed. “But for now, I’ll get out of your hair. They’re probably all wondering where I wandered off to back at the shop, anyway…”

Neil got up to leave, and you walked around the counter to see him out. As he opened the door, you called for him to wait, and rushed over to your coat rack.

“I know it’s a short walk,” you said, holding out your scarf to him. “But just so you’re a little warmer.”

Neil let you wrap the scarf around him. It clashed horribly with his slightly silly getup, but it would do the job of keeping him warm.

“Are you sure?” Neil asked, touching the scarf.

You nodded.

“Think of it as collateral,” you told him. “You promised you’d come back, right? Now you have an excuse.”

The barest hint of a blush crossed Neil’s cheeks again, and he buried his face a little deeper in the scarf. The way his bangs brushed against his eyelashes nearly made your heart melt.

“Thank you,” Neil said. “I guess I’ll… see you soon?”

“See you soon,” you agreed.

And with that, Neil left the little cafe with a cold gust of air from outside. You bit your thumb, giddy suddenly and not sure what to do about it. Tingling with excitement, you turned around and set about getting ready for the day.

You left Neil’s coffee on the counter until it was practically time to open, not wanting to clear away the memory of him being there.

Read Pt. 2 HERE!

[metamatronic]

Could you talk a little about your MCI from your Fnaf au?

This isn’t exactly what you asked, but here’s my timeline! It’s altered a bit over the years and characters have changed roles, but this is my little AU:

1983: Evan “Jack” Afton is bitten while Henry murders Charlie behind the pizzeria. Charlie mistakes her killer for William. Fredbear’s Family Diner closes and the springlock suits are moved to Freddy’s. Jack continues to haunt Michael and creates night terrors for him.

1984: Circus Baby’s Rental opens and Elizabeth “goes missing.” William, after losing his second kid, becomes consumed with finding Elizabeth and fails to notice Henry reprogramming the animatronics. Funtime animatronics steadily kidnap/kill kids from 1984~86.

1985: Official first Missing Children’s Incident™. Henry lures five kids (Gabriel, Jeremy, Susie, Fritz, and Cass) and stuffs their bodies in the suits. William is suspected but never convicted, Freddy’s is shut down.

Early 1986: William, suspecting foul play and feeling guilty, goes to the now closed Freddy’s location to search for clues. Charlie and Co, believing their killer to be William, scare him into the suit and he is springlocked. Using William as a scapegoat, Henry has the walls sealed up so that William can “remain at large” should the case be reopened. Becoming more paranoid that he will be found out, he hunts down Michael’s friends from the bite of ‘83 and hides their bodies in the not-yet-released toy animatronics.

1987: After the disappearance of his father, Michael finds William’s frantic theories over Elizabeth’s whereabouts and decides to go look for her. Scoopage occurs.

After discovering the truth of the incidents, the not-yet-rotting Michael takes a job at the new Freddy Fazbear’s under the guise of Jeremy Fitzgerald. (The dayshift guard, also named Jeremy, gets bit by Mangle) Michael comes back later as “Fritz Smith” and sneaks Charlie out with him.

~1988: Ennard (without Baby) sneaks into Michael’s apartment and asks to stay. Michael begrudgingly lets Ennard live in his closet.

~1991: Circus Baby finds Michael’s apartment and demands to stay. Michael and Ennard begrudgingly let her.

1993: Mike takes a job at the reopened Freddy’s. Finds out that his uncle (Phone Guy) died there not too long before him. Mike continues working there for a while until he gets fired for “tampering with the animatronics” and the place gets shut down. He sneaks Phone Guy’s ghost out with him and hides him in his apartment.

2017: Michael takes a job at Fazbear Fright under the name Eggs and “meets” Springtrap. Neither recognize each other and form a friendship. This culminates in the two of them burning the place down and Michael sneaking William back to his apartment, where Phone Guy reveals both of their identities to each other.

2019: Michael, in an attempt to lure Henry and kill him, franchises a Freddy’s location and steadily sneaks his animatronic family members in. It’s the most successful Freddy establishment and becomes incredibly popular. When Henry tries to burn the place down, the Afton family captures him and forces him to burn in the restaurant with them. Despite everything, everyone but Henry survives. Henry’s soul escapes into the computer.

2020: Realizing they now have to live “normal lives” in the aftermath of the fire, Michael and William retrofit illusion discs so the whole family can pose as living people.

2023: After developing into a malicious computer virus, Henry/Glitchtrap poses as a Fazbear Entertainment email address and commissions a VR studio to make the FNAF series. On top of using this to possess the beta testers, he uses this to spin the narrative that William was the murderer and that he was the hero that stopped him. Michael joins the VR team as “Iggy Wilson” in order to stop Henry.

I don’t really have anything for Security Breach. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[musette22]

Evanstan AU with handsome small town guy Chris and pretty city boy Sebastian #3672:

One October night, local biker Chris Evans picks up Sebastian, New York-based actor on the cusp of a breakthrough, from the side of the road somewhere in rural Massachusetts.

---

Sebastian is on his way back to New York after shooting scenes for a low-budget movie in a small New England town. He's exhausted thanks to a 5am call time, and frustrated because he's supposed to be past starring in this type of ridiculous Hallmark movie by now, and to make matters worse, he dropped his phone earlier and now the GPS doesn't work, which means he's trying to make his way back to the motorway with the outdated map he found in the glove compartment of his rental car (trying being the operative word here). And then, just when he thinks things have hit rock bottom, the car suddenly sputters to a halt, and Sebastian realizes with a sinking feeling that he forgot to fill up on gas before leaving New York.

Fuck his life, honestly.

He just about manages to steer the car into the gutter before it gives up the ghost completely. Sebastian gets out of the car in a huff, yelling into the void for few satisfying seconds and then giving one of the car's tires a vicious kick for good measure.

He's so caught up in his rage that he doesn't even really register the motorcycle coming towards him until it stops next to his car. And oh great, as if this day wasn't terrible enough, now he's is going to get murdered by a Hell's Angel by the side of the road in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. But then the guy takes off his helmet, and - oh, hello. Sebastian thinks he actually wouldn't mind being murdered by this guy so much. He's a little rugged, sure, but in a handsome way, bearded, wearing leather boots as well as two different types of flannel underneath his motojacket.

"You okay there?" the guy asks, giving Sebastian an amused look.

Sebastian cringes, realizes how he must look to this guy, in his suit jacket and fancy shoes and gold jewellery, throwing a tantrum by the side of the road. But he's got bigger things to worry about right now than looking like an idiot, so he runs a hand through his disheveled hair and answers truthfully. "Not really," he admits. "Ran out of gas and I've got no idea where I am, to be honest."

The guy smirks, giving Sebastian a slow once-over. "I thought you looked a little lost," he says, but before Sebastian can put his hackles up, the guy holds out his hand and says, "I'm Chris. Where were you headed to?"

"Sebastian." He shakes Chris's hand, which is big and dry and a little cold, from driving without gloves on. "Well, I was hoping to get back to New York sometime tonight, but..."

Chris clicks his tongue in sympathy. "Tough luck. If you want, I can give you a ride to the nearest town? You could stay the night at the inn and call the AAA tomorrow? Unless you'd rather call them now. They'd have to come all the way from Boston, though, so it could take a couple of hours."

Sebastian sighs, because yeah no, the idea of sitting here in the dark for hours by himself doesn't exactly sound appealing. As if in agreement, Sebastian's stomach chooses that moment to remind him that the last time he had something to eat was around 10am that morning, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet road. Sebastian shoots Chris a sheepish look.

"There's also a pretty good burger place on the way," Chris says, looking even amused now, before he gives Sebastian's clothes another calculating look and adds, "That is, if you don't mind greasy burgers."

Sebastian can't help but bristle, just a little. "The greasier the better," he says defiantly, before realizing that kind of sounded like an innuendo, considering this guy looks like a bike mechanic. It seems Chris picked up on that too, because he smirks again. Then he holds out his helmet to Sebastian. "Hop on," he says.

"What about you?"

"I'll drive slow," Chris shrugs. "It's only a couple of minutes."

So Sebastian puts on the helmet and swings his leg over the bike, settling in behind Chris.

"Hold on tight."

Sebastian wraps his arms tightly around Chris's surprisingly slim waist, pressing himself up against his back. As they set off, Sebastian has the sudden thought that this day might be looking up after all.

They pull up outside a pub-style bar a little while later. Chris shuts off the bike and Sebastian climbs off, taking off the helmet. "Thanks," he says, handing it to Chris. "I appreciate it. So um, if you could give me the name of that inn, I can just go on on foot once I'm done here and ask for directions or something. Unless it's too far to walk?"

"I could also just give you a lift there," Chris says, tilting his head slightly. "I'm kinda hungry myself, actually. I could eat a burger. If you don't mind the company, that is."

Sebastian really, really doesn't mind the company. He smiles. "'Course," he says, starting to walk in the direction of the entrance. "My treat, seeing as you kind of saving my ass right now." When he shoots a look over his shoulder, he could swear Chris had just been looking at said ass, possibly assessing whether or not it's worth saving. Sebastian hopes the answer is yes.

As promised, the burgers are pretty greasy but also very good. They talk while they eat, Sebastian relating what led him to be stranded in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Massachusetts. Chris smirks, but otherwise doesn't make any snide remarks about Sebastian being an actor, so Sebastian likewise doesn't make fun of Chris when he tells him he's owns a one-man woodworking business. Despite their very different lifestyles and occupations, it turns out they've got quit a lot in common. And unless Sebastian is very delusional, they've also got a ton of chemistry. Chris keeps looking at Sebastian's mouth when he's talking, and Sebastian can't stop himself from letting his gaze linger on Chris's shoulders and forearms. There's a spark there, no doubt about it.

By the time they've finished their burgers and drinks, Sebastian is really hoping he might just be able to stay the night at Chris's place, instead of at some inn.

Once Sebastian has paid, they make their way outside again, walking over to Chris's parked bike. Chris gets on but doesn't take the bike off the stand yet. He rubs the back of his neck, giving Sebastian a look from under his lashes. "So. Where to?"

Sebastian arches an eyebrow. "Thought you were gonna give me a lift to that inn you mentioned." He lets Chris sweat for a moment, before he smirks and adds, "Unless you've got somewhere better in mind."

The corner of Chris's mouth curves upwards. "I might know a place," he says, not breaking eye contact.

They look at each other for a moment, something sizzling in the air between them.

"Lead the way."

****

Chris knows he shouldn't have brought this beautiful stranger home.

He knows he's a hopeless romantic who falls too fast, especially for people like Sebastian, who are gorgeous and interesting and driven and intelligent. He knows that inviting someone like that into his home would make him immediately imagine a future with them that he could never have. He knows that, and at the same time, he also knows he wouldn't have wanted to miss last night for the world.

Sebastian is better than anything Chris could ever have dreamed up, and Chris is so happy that chance (fate?) brought Sebastian into his path. So grateful that he got to spend one perfect night with him.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like a sonofabitch when he's driving Sebastian back to his car the next day, knowing that in just a few minutes time, he's going to have to say goodbye, and he'll most likely never see him again. Except maybe on the silver screen.

Chris pulls up next to Sebastian's abandoned car, shuts off the engine, and takes off his helmet. Behind him, Sebastian does the same, handing Chris the spare helmet to put in the saddlebags. Chris gets off and turns around. Sebastian's hair is tousled, the golden morning sun catching on it, making it glow. He's wearing an old wax coat over his suit blazer, lent to him by Chris, because the morning air is pretty chilly, and Chris has already learned that Sebastian gets cold easily.

When Sebastian starts to take off the coat, Chris waves a hand and says, "Keep it. It's an old one anyway, and you might be here for a while, depending on when the AAA gets here."

Frowning, Sebastian puts his hands in his pockets. The sun frames him from behind, making it seem like he's got a halo, and secretly, Chris thinks Sebastian is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Thank you," Sebastian says quietly.

And Chris could be wrong, but he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Sebastian might be feeling a little of what Chris is feeling, too.

"Don't mention it," Chris says, leaning against his bike, thankful for his sunglasses not just because of the sun, but also because they help hide the way he's feeling right now. Which is, frankly, far more devastated than he should be, over someone he just met yesterday.

"I could -" Sebastian starts, before he stops himself, biting his lip.

"Yeah?"

Sebastian takes a breath, looking at the ground. "Well, I was just thinking, I could maybe return it to you sometime. The coat, I mean. You're not that far from New York, really, and, y'know, I'm kinda sad I didn't get a chance to see your workshop, and like, the town." He looks up, giving Chris a careful look from under his lashes.

A warm feeling spreads through Chris's chest, more effective in driving away the cold and sadness than the sun could ever hope to be. He smiles at Sebastian. "Or I could drive up to New York sometime and collect it," he says, ignoring the fact that he just basically said he didn't need the coat back anyway. "Been meaning to visit again for a while anyway, I kinda miss the excitement. And like you said, it's not that far from here, if you think about it."

They smile helplessly at each other for a few moments, something passing between them that doesn't need to be articulated to be real.

"Let me give you my number," Sebastian says, seeming to glow with more than just the morning sunlight now, and if Chris saves the number in his phone with a little heart next to Sebastian's name, that's nobody's business but his.

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: The moment Mingyu saw you on the beach in that skimpy bikini, it was over for him. Pairing: Mingyu x fem!reader Rating: R18+ Genre: smut Tropes: spring break au Word Count: 1,525 Warnings: language Smut Warnings: public sex, body worship, breast play, unprotected sex, creampie

Chapter 1: Honey Flavored Lips ៚ WITT Masterlist ៚ Chapter 3: Patience is Key

The last thing Mingyu wants to do right now is sit in the bungalow. He slept on the couch last night and will be for the whole week; he’s not the most pleased with the arrangement, but at least it’s a comfy sectional. He weighs his options and ultimately decides another day on the beach couldn’t hurt at all. If anything, that’ll be the most fun option without getting absolutely drunk at 2 pm in a club. The club is a half-hour drive away into the city anyway. It’s not very easy to do without a rental car. He doesn’t even bother to ask the others if they want to join him. Changmin and Hyunguu are off exploring the town and the jungle that lies just behind it. San and Jaehyun went to the nearby city earlier, and Youngkyun is likely still a recluse despite them being in a tropical location.

He leaves the house after preparing, and, of course, he lacks a shirt. Why should he wear one when he is on the beach anyway? His hair is up and out of his face, and he still wears a silver chain despite his lack of clothing on his upper half.

Luckily, the beach isn’t too busy despite the nice day. He sets up his spot and stays sat on the sand for a while. There are a few other people in his surrounding area but not too close that he feels like he’s on top of them. It’s not too hot that he feels the need to be in the water, and the wind isn’t too strong to make him feel the need to bake in the sun, either. It’s just all around a really nice day.

He notices a gorgeous girl walking up the beach and toward the beach blanket set up nearby his. Her bathing suit leaves just enough to the imagination that Mingyu wants to know more. It couldn’t hurt to at least try, right? The moment she’s settled and laying belly down on her place, Mingyu glances over. His glance must’ve been more of a look because she looks over at him and giggled quietly.

“Enjoying the view?” you ask flirtatiously.

“Is it so bad if I am?” he flirts back.

You chuckle, flipping your hair over one shoulder, “You trying to do something about it?”

Mingyu smirks, leaning back on his hands behind him. He looks up in the sky for a second, then drops his gaze back down to you. You’re giving him a rather suggestive look. It conveys very clearly to him. He returns your gaze, and it tells you all you need to know.

“There’s a private bathhouse over by those palms.” you jerk your head in the direction of the trees.

“I do need to learn the beaches a little better. Care to show me where you mean?”

You stand up, brushing a bit of dry sand off your chest and stomach. You can feel his eyes on you, and you absolutely love how easily you can get a reaction out of him. You walk over to him, swinging your hips a little extra, and stop right in front of him. You squat down, resting your butt on your heels. His eyes are transfixed on your chest, which is now basically at his eye level. You reach out a hand in his direction.

“Let me show you around then.” you ask with undertones of flirting.

He takes your hand, “Show me the way, beautiful.”

You’re pinned to the wall of the bathhouse the moment you step inside with the tall man. His lips are immediately on your throat, pulling sweet sounds from you. He has one hand holding your hip while the other is playing with your chest. Your hands find their way around his neck and up into his hair. You gently tug at the locks soliciting a quiet groan from the man. His hand travels around to your back from your chest. He pulls the string that’s holding your bikini top shut, and then you feel the release of the fabric.

“So fucking beautiful.” he sighs, “If we weren’t stuck in this stupid building, I’d spend so much time making you feel good. We don’t have a whole lot of time, though, do we?”

“We could go to yours or-”

Before you can finish your thought, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth a swirls his tongue around it. His hand that had previously been untying your top returns to your chest, playing with the breast not occupying his mouth. Your breath is stolen from your lungs, and you grip his hair just a bit tighter so as to hold onto a bit of sanity. You start to grind against him, hoping that he catches your drift and fucks you soon.

“God damn,” he moans slightly, “you okay if I fuck you raw? I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I’ll leave and find someone who will.” you threaten, though there’s no intent behind it.

Mingyu chuckles slightly, knowing there’s no true threat to your words. His lips continue to kiss paths across your body in any way he can. You snake your hands down his muscular form and into the front of his bathing suit. You feel a shot of arousal run through your body and center itself in your core, just thinking about how well he’ll fill you up. He lets out a shaky breath as you start to move your hand around his member. His hand moves away from your chest and glides across your side to tug at the strings holding the lower half of your bathing suit together. The moment one side falls loose, his fingers quickly find your clit and rub circles on it. It takes everything in you not to crumble against his body.

“You’re so wet. Bet this pretty pussy would take me so well.” he muses between a few kisses to your collarbones, “Let’s see if I’m right.”

You can’t think of anything to say. Your brain is practically mush hearing and feeling how he worships your body. You simply shove his bathing suit down as best you can to finally release him from the fabric. Within moments he’s fully inside you, and if you thought you couldn’t think straight before, now is even worse. He waits a few moments to allow you to adjust to his size. Still, he kisses any skin he can reach on your body, whispering praise between each one.

“Y-you can move; please move.” you practically moan.

“So fucking pretty, and you take me so well. Fuck, ‘m gonna start moving now, pretty girl.”

When he starts moving his hips, you swear that you see heaven. He’s hardly started, but you already have a continuous stream of moans and whimpers escaping your lips. Your back is pressed against this wall rather uncomfortably, and your hair is definitely a mess, but right now, all you can think about is how good he’s making you feel. He’s an expert with his hips, rocking them at a pace that isn’t too fast or slow. His fingers never stop drawing circles against your clit. You clench around him slightly, making him groan against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“If you squeeze me like that, I don’t know how long I’ll last, beautiful.” he warns you.

“Can’t help it,” you breathe out, “you feel so good inside me.”

Soon enough, Mingyu’s pace becomes rougher and slightly uneven. You couldn’t care less since your high was quickly approaching. You feel like you’re on cloud nine, high off of the adrenaline of fucking a stranger in a public place. Just as you’re about to topple over the edge of an orgasm, you hear someone outside the small bathhouse. The man fucking you couldn’t seem to care less, though. You moan loudly but try your best to muffle the sound against his neck.

“Don’t hide those pretty sounds,” he tells you, “those guys out there are just my housemates; they won’t mind one bit.”

Normally, something like that would make panic swell in your belly. This time though, it makes you feel more of a rush of arousal bolt through you. Tossing your head back against the wall of the building, you let your moans fly free. The tall man warns you that he’s about to cum, and you let him know he’s more than welcome to cum inside you. When he does, it triggers your own orgasm, and he carries you through it with the continued stimulation to your clit, now combined with him toying with your nipples again. His hips slow to a stop. Both of you pant, trying to catch your breath. He chuckles slightly and rests his forehead on the wall beside yours.

“I, um, I never caught your name.” you admit.

“Mingyu,” he informs you, “that was one hell of an adventure for being strangers, huh?”

“Mmh,” you hum in agreement, “You gonna be around the rest of the week?”

“Name a time and place, gorgeous. I’ll be there.”

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Detour 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor

Summary: You find yourself stranded in a small village.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The burly blond leads you through the airy lobby, our valise in one hand as he drags your rolling bag with the other. He doesn’t pause at the counter, instead tossing out and order as he passes, “Darcy, we have a booking for the Berkano suite.”

A woman looks up over the desk and smiles, her lips painted bright pink as she wears a pair of thick black glasses. “Got it!”

She scribbles in an open book with a pen. Is this village so outdated they haven’t even a proper booking system? They haven’t even asked for a deposit. You’re certainly not a criminal but it’s standard business procedure.

“My card,” you step up and slide it across to her.

“Ma’am,” the blond stops by the wide staircase and faces you.

“In a moment,” you wave him off, “I’m not in the habit of existing on charity.”

“Oh, thanks, uh…” the woman, Darcy, looks at your card like she’s never seen one before. You suppose she doesn’t often see that exact type. She lays it on the page of the book and copies the number and your name beside the suite number. “Here ya are.”

She hands the card back and you arch your brows before twisting on your tall heel. You strut over to the wait brute and gesture him onward.

“There we are, sir.”

“Ma’am,” he drawls again.

“Ma’am,” you scowl.

He scoffs as he turns and lifts the rolling suitcase as he starts up the stairs, “apologies, I didn’t get a name.”

You roll your eyes as you set up after him. You keep a hold of the thick railing as you take careful steps in your stilettos. He easily outpaces you and turns back to watch your deliberate ascent, almost mockingly at the top of the step.

“Thor, if you’re curious,” he offers his name as you come up beside him, “so you would be…”

You huff and recite your name. Hopefully, you won’t have use for his. You check your watch pointedly and he chuckles.

“Ah, city folk, always in a rush even when you have nowhere to go.”

“Oh, I do have place to be,” you insist, “tomorrow, the mechanic will patch my axle and I will drive to the city and trade it in for a proper rental.”

“Mmm, sounds like a good plan,” he remarks and points you to the left, “go on. Number 2117.”

You take his directive, if only to be away from him. You will shut yourself up in the suite and shed the weariness of the day. Why did you think this trip would be anything but stressful? This is why you stick to first class and all-inclusive resorts.

“This one here,” he says as you come up to a door. 

There’s a hand-carved wooden plaque next to the door with the number inscribed; 2117. On the door itself, is an odd emblem wrought in iron; it resembles a B but is pointed where it should be curvy. He stops and lets your suitcase stand on its own as he reaches to his belt, pulling for a key attached to a retractable cord.

“I’ll have Darcy bring you the keys,” he offers as he sidles closer. You step back and watch him unlock the door. “Anything else, my lady?”

“My lady?” You glare at him, “wonderful service.”

“I wasn’t being–”

“Sir, I can handle it from here,” you grasp the handle of the round valise and the suitcase. As you try to rip them away, he doesn’t let go. He’s strong and you’re effort barely affects him. “Please, you’ve done enough.”

He snorts, “you are rather charming.”

You shake your head and yank on your bags again. He lets them go so you stagger. You steady yourself and snarl under a curled lip.

“As are you,” you snipe back, “good evening, sir.”

“Thor,” he intones.

“Whatever,” you snap and drag your suitcase through the door.

Before you can kick it shut, he pulls it closed behind you. You shake your head at him and drop your valise on the side table beneath the oak-framed mirror. A single night will be more than enough for you.

Off the entry of the suite is the door to the bathroom. You flip on the light as you peer inside; it’s large with a round tub in the corner, jets embedded in the sides; a pair of porcelain sinks and a long mirror behind them; a shower booth set into the wall with a transparent glass door; and the toilet beside the cabinet of towels and complementary lotions and soaps.

You shut the light off and proceed further into the room. The suit is divided by a centered wall; a long sofa sits against one side, a television mounted on the wall across from it and two arm chairs placed at an angle on either end of the sofa. A low table in the center of the sitting area and side table just beneath the TV, a vase of flowers atop it, along with the phone, and a kettle and pair of porcelain mugs.

On the other side of that, is the small kitchenette, a small fridge, a single cupboard, an ice bucket on the short counter, and a toaster oven on the shelf above. The other shelves hold a set of sparkling crystal glasses and a matching decanter, along with a large clear jug.

You pass through to the bedroom area. On the opposite wall, a pair of sliding glass doors open onto a balcony. There’s a table outside with two chairs. The bed is a king and is made up in luxurious bedding in a shade of charcoal. The suite melds together shades of white, iron, and some blue hues. 

There is a wardrobe against the dividing wall and night tables on either side of the bed. A chaise stands along the end of the bed and a velvet pouf in the corner. There’s a vanity against another wall with little bulbs around the mirror and a tall-legged seat before it. It is acceptable for the night.

A knock comes at the door and you sigh, expecting the same blond nuisance. Of course, he can’t just leave you be. It isn’t as if your disinterest isn’t radiating off of you. You go to the door and swing it open sharply.

It isn’t him. Thank the lord. It’s the girl from the front desk. Donna? You already forget.

“Here are your keys, miss,” she hands over a keyring with brass skeletons and a matching tag, “oh, and Thor said you were a fan of wine.”

She offers a full-bodied bottle of Chardonnay. This man must believe all the stereotypes. You are hardly a Chardonnay enthusiast, you prefer red to white.

“How thoughtful,” you drone.

“Dinner is in an hour. Just down in the dining room. Tonight is roasted hare.”

“Dinner?” You echo.

“Oh, yes ma’am, all guests are welcome to join.”

“Do you have room service?” You wonder.

“Not exactly, ma’am, but we offer three meals a day downstairs. Just turn left as you’re coming down the stairs and it’s right through the door between the lion statues.”

“Mmm, is there anywhere close by I might get a bite. Privately?”

“Um, there’s a cafe in town but it closes early. And Hank’s eatery is a bout a twenty minutes drive, out by the old lumber mill–”

“Dinner in an hour,” you check your watch, “mmm, I’ll think about it.”

You take the wine and spin, elbowing the door shut. It isn’t your first choice but it will do the job.

[sashaisready]

The Blood Pact: Chapter 1 - The Viewing

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Large double room and en-suite bathroom available in shared house in Brooklyn. Living with two male professionals. Rent reasonable and negotiable – call to enquire, ask for Steve – 555-6786

That’s all the ad said. You couldn’t help but be intrigued. After all, who even finds a roommate via the newspaper nowadays? You’d only found it because you were absentmindedly flicking through an old paper someone had left on your table in the coffee shop. In the last few weeks you’d spent hours trawling through apartment listings online, viewing terrible dump after terrible dump. Damp. Cold. Tiny. That one apartment with literal mushrooms growing on the ceiling. Another where the other roommates had clearly put a single mattress in a closet and were trying to shave a few bucks off their own rent. You’d met with potential roommates who all ranked highly on the awful scale – everyone from that potential serial killer looking guy who insisted you didn’t need a lock on your bedroom door, to that girl who kept jars of her toenail clippings on the coffee table.

Frankly, you were getting desperate. You weren’t looking for much, just a non-closet sized, clean bedroom that you didn’t need a lottery win to afford. But that was apparently a tall order.

You had been crashing on your friend Wanda’s couch for too long now. As welcoming as her and her boyfriend Vis were, enough was enough. Your break up with Peter had left you homeless. After a well-deserved period of mourning and ‘what the fuck?-ing’, it was time to move on. Move out. Give Wanda and Vis their space back, stop being a burden and get back on the horse.

…And that’s how you found yourself on the doorstep of a beautiful, nineteenth century townhouse in Brooklyn at 7.30pm on an autumnal Wednesday.

It was worth a shot, right? You genuinely had nothing to lose by now.

Maybe the room was perfect for you. Maybe they were hipsters who put the ad in the paper as a retro throwback thing. Maybe they were super old. Whatever, at this point as long as they were clean and not sociopaths you were willing to overlook all sorts of potential flaws. And rent was negotiable, so maybe you wouldn’t need a bank loan just to pay the deposit.

Steve had sounded nice on the phone when you’d enquired yesterday. Not super old. Friendly and sweet. Very polite. He had given you the address and directions. It was actually refreshing to speak on the phone, as normally your apartment enquiries took place over tedious exchanges via the SpareRoom app. When you told him 7.30pm was a bit of an odd time for a viewing he just explained that he and his roommate worked long hours throughout the day, so evenings were best. Fine. It was New York City, a night time viewing was hardly going to raise an eyebrow.

Even so, you were a young woman going into a stranger’s house alone at night. In the city. You weren’t stupid, you dropped your location pin to Wanda and texted her the address and details. Just in case. 

You took a deep breath and rapped your knuckles on the front door. You’d done so many of these that they were almost muscle memory now. Be polite, charming, make them want to live with you. You stretched out your shoulders as you waited and took another look at your potential new home. The building really was beautiful, a classic caramel colour with period features. Tall with big bay windows. A whirring noise caught your attention and you spotted a security camera perched just above the door. It turned to face you before whizzing back to its original place. They were clearly security conscious, so that was a plus.

Moments later the door swung open to reveal a tall, handsome man who must’ve been in his 30s standing in front of you. He wasn’t at all what you expected, blonde and classically handsome, a rugged beard and bright blue eyes. A bit on the pale side, but then summer was long gone. Your gaze couldn’t help but switch to the muscles clearly lurking under his tight white t-shirt, before you caught yourself and looked back at his face just as quickly.

“Hi…I’m-” you told him, slightly flustered.

“Hey. Right on time, I’m Steve” the man grinned, extending his hand to you as you shook it and introduced yourself. You were struck by how cold his hand was, hoping it wasn’t a tell-tale sign of the lack of heat in the house.

Steve smiled warmly and gestured for you to come in. “Thanks for coming. Let me show you around, and I’ll introduce you to my roommate, Bucky”.

You nodded, following him mindlessly. There was just something about him…something magnetic. He was cute. God, was he cute. But it was something else. You had no idea what had come over you.

Steve enthusiastically gave you the tour, guiding you throughout the ground floor. The house was just as stunning inside as out, with clean white walls and a mix of modern and antique furniture. A blend of modern and classic art adorned each room but didn’t seem to clash. The whole place was somehow both pristine yet comforting, spotless yet lived in. He showed you around the enormous kitchen with its big oak table, then the kitchen island which would bring any Pinterest interior design enthusiast to their knees. Huge windows framed the sink, thick blinds were pulled down and stopped the evening darkness from creeping in.

“Wow” you muttered as you took it all in.

Steve chuckled. “Yep…we’re pretty lucky” he smiled.

He took you through to the living room which to no surprise was equally stunning, your eyes found a chic cream couch which looked comfier than any bed, but you knew you would destroy with food and drink stains in a matter of days if unleashed upon it. Your feet padded on the wooden floor as she showed you the fireplace, then the television unit custom built into the wall which you knew must’ve cost a pretty penny.

The tour continued and he showed you a bathroom (one of many) and utility room (no more trips lugging all your clothes to the laundromat…genuine bliss) before leading you up the winding staircase. The stairs each creaked underfoot and you noticed every single window you’d seen had been fitted with heavy duty blinds. Even the tiny ones which must only allow the smallest sliver of light in. A little odd. But hey, it’s their house.

Steve was animated and charming throughout the tour, pointing out his favourite parts and telling anecdotes about where they found certain belongings. Asking questions about you and your job. He took you to the first floor and walked up to a closed door.

“And this would be your room”.

He opened the door and you nearly gasped at the size of the place, an enormous bedroom with a huge double bed and antique wardrobe. The vast window was covered by the yet another ubiquitous blind.

“Obviously it’s looking a bit sparse right now, but you could really make it your own if you took the place. We don’t care if you paint or whatever” Steve added, smiling as he moved to open another interior door across the room.

“And here’s the bathroom. This would be just yours, Buck and I have our own upstairs”.

You couldn’t hold in the loud, appreciative whistle you made as you walked in - which made Steve laugh.

“Are you kidding me?” you scoffed.

The bathroom was enormous. Perfect white tiles, every inch spotless. A beautiful waterfall shower stood in the corner, a vastly superior upgrade to the slightly dribbly shower head over the bathtub at Wanda’s. Along the wall was an immaculate marble sink mounted with a stunning vanity mirror, and the pièce de resistance was a huge copper bathtub in the centre – so deep that you could clone yourself and fit at least three of you in there comfortably.

After taking in the impressive room you spun excitedly on your heel to face Steve.

“You like it?” he said teasingly, a flash of mischief darkening his baby blues.

“Like it? I would happily live in just the bathroom, never mind the bedroom” you practically squealed.

Steve laughed good naturedly at your excitement. He seemed to view you with slightly bewildered amusement, but it didn’t feel patronising or snooty.

“Great. So you’re interested?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “God, yes. I just don’t think I can afford it…this place is so nice…” you mumbled, the realisation of how much this must all cost sinking in.

Steve eyed you with interest. “Well, let’s see shall we? It’s negotiable. We’ll have a talk with Bucky and see what we can agree”.

You nodded again, following him out into the hall. You had fallen hard for the room. It was the best place you’d seen by a country mile, let alone the ridiculous plus of having a private bathroom. Steve seemed…nice. Normal. Well, aside from being insanely hot and you clearly having a weird crush on him which made you feel strangely dazed…but that was okay. You would get over your crush. If your biggest problem with him was him being too hot, you would cope. Especially for your own copper bathtub. You wondered what exactly ‘negotiable’ meant. And what about this Bucky guy? You and Steve seemed to get along fine, but what was the other roommate like?

“Uh…where do you sleep?” you asked as Steve led you back towards the stairs.

He flicked a finger upwards. “Next floor up, Bucky and I have our bedrooms there. I would take you up there but it’s not particularly interesting” he said dismissively as he guided you back down the stairs.

You thought it a bit strange that he had left out an entire floor, after all the rest of the tour was so thorough he’d shown you inside cabinets and drawers downstairs. But bedrooms were personal, you wouldn’t be in their rooms or their bathroom anyway – so you supposed it wasn’t relevant.

Steve led you into the living room and you were surprised to see the wood fire roaring, as if it had been like that for hours. You had been in here not a few minutes earlier and there wasn’t even a hint of a spark. Someone must’ve got it going in record time…

“Hi there, nice to meet you” came a voice from behind you.

You flinched, surprised as you hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room when you came in. You turned and your stomach dropped when you locked eyes with the owner of the voice.

There sat nonchalantly in an armchair was possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, every thread hugging his body perfectly. He had long chestnut hair slicked back into a small bun, and a jawline that could cut glass. A bit pale, like Steve, but it made his skin look porcelain. His lips were full and pouty, and you could see a glimpse of his shirt straining over his broad shoulders. What had stopped you in your tracks though, were his eyes. Perfectly cerulean pools that seemed to pierce into you, to penetrate your very thoughts and dreams. If you thought you’d felt a pull towards Steve, then this was like a blackhole – unstoppable and relentless.

You gawped open mouthed at him for a moment before remembering you were trying to impress and charm here, shaking yourself out of it.

“Oh yes, hi. You must be Bucky?” you managed to utter, extending your hand to his as you gave him your name.

He smiled back at you and for a split second you could’ve sworn he was smirking, entertained by how flustered you were. But it was a tiny glimpse, quickly swallowed by a more genuine smile. 

“Yep. James Barnes, officially. But everyone calls me Bucky” he replied. His voice was soft yet deep. His hand was just as cold as Steve’s had been, you almost flinched as his cool flesh met yours. 

“Ooh, I think you’re a little chilly. Hopefully the fire will warm you up” you stammered, still ruffled by the effect he’d had on you. 

Bucky just smiled dryly in response, gesturing for you to sit on the couch as Steve slipped down in the armchair next to his. 

As you sat you were suddenly aware of how warm it was in the room. How could he possibly be cold? It was sweltering in here with that fire. 

“So it’s great you’re interested in the room” Steve began. “We just want to check our compatibility, make sure you’re a good fit. And then we can talk about rent payment, alright?”

You nodded, grabbing your purse and pulling some documents from it. 

“Here are my last six pay stubs” you said as you passed the papers over to Steve, doing your best not to look at Bucky in case you had another meltdown. “I work full time, and I have good references from past landlords. So I can prove I’ve got a steady income and I’m good for the rent” you explained, with slightly more urgency than planned. 

Steve nodded and looked at them briefly, but didn’t really seem to read them. He passed them to Bucky who seemed just as disinterested. Your heart sank, that wasn’t a good sign.

“So where are you living now?” Steve asked. 

You giggled awkwardly and launched into the much shorter, less warts and all version of your break up and subsequent forced eviction. You explained you were staying on your friend’s couch but needed to move out, and that’s why you were house hunting now. Both Steve and Bucky seemed intrigued, studying you carefully as you awkwardly gestured with your hands, laughing nervously to fill the silence.

“Sorry to hear that” Steve finally said. “Break-ups are tough. Especially when you’re cohabiting. Did you just want different things?”

You nod. “Uh yes. I wanted to be in a relationship with him, and he wanted to be balls deep in other women while I was in the next room. You know, classic incompatibility”.

Steve looked at you sympathetically while Bucky let out a strangled laugh.

Up your hand went to your mouth as you realised what you’d said.

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that was…too much” you cringed.

“Don’t apologise. Sounds like you’re far better off” Bucky said sternly, his eyes practically burning into you. 

You nodded, you felt your face flushing slightly from the intensity of his attention. 

Your eyes must’ve been playing tricks on you in the firelight as they both men seemed to tense up for a second. But then it was over as quickly as it started.

“Thanks…I guess it’s all still pretty raw” you chuckled weakly. 

They told you that they were business partners, dealing in antiques and doing some book restoration on the side too. They’d been friends for years, more like brothers really, meeting in the army and setting up their company after they were discharged. You were impressed, you didn’t know any former soldiers turned antique dealers.

They proceeded to fire questions at you. Standard stuff about your job as a copy editor, you explained you worked from home mostly and they said that was fine as they weren’t around much during the day and the WiFi was decent. Perfect.

They asked if you did any drugs or drank heavily. No and no. Maybe a few glasses of wine or a cocktail at the weekends. 

Then they asked if you had any medical conditions they should know about. You cocked an eyebrow, unsure of why that was necessary information for a roommate interview.

“I’m sorry, I promise we aren’t trying to pry” Steve advised, noticing your discomfort. “And obviously you don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. It won’t affect your chances of getting the room. It’s just we had a diabetic roommate once who didn’t tell us, he went into a hypoglycaemic coma in the kitchen and we had no idea what was going on and couldn’t help him. He was fine, an ambulance came in time. But now we just like to know if it’s not too intrusive to share, just in case we ever need to help”.

You nodded. That made sense.

“No, no medical conditions”.

They smiled at you, then exchanged glances. Both of them looked at each other for a moment before nodding in unison. 

“Okay, the room is yours” said Steve.

You couldn’t hide your squeal, your fists clenching in excitement. You almost wanted to run up and hug them both, but restrained the urge. You were already daydreaming about that tub. 

“Oh wow, amazing!! Thank you” you beamed. “But what about the rent…?”

They exchanged another look before Steve spoke again. 

“Well, you see. That’s where the more uh…unconventional elements of the contract kick in” he replied warily.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. 

“The thing is…” Steve continued, his voice solemn. “We don’t need your money for the rent. We require something else from you”.

You frowned, suddenly uncomfortable. “Look, I know this is the twenty-first century but I don’t do stuff like that to keep a roof over my head, no matter how bad the rental market is” you spat, getting to your feet as you felt your anger rise. Who did they think they were?

Steve and Bucky shook their heads, laughing, which just made you madder.

“No, not that” Steve soothed. “We want your blood, sweetheart”.

You scoffed. “What?” 

“Your blood” replied Bucky nonchalantly. “We’re vampires, Doll”.

You rolled your eyes. “What kind of sick joke…”

“We’re vampires and we need your blood” Bucky explained, cutting you off. His tone deadpan, as if he was explaining something as trivial as how to use the stove. “So you can stay here for free, no payment needed, we just need to feed from you every couple of days. We won’t take more than you can give. You won’t feel any ill effects, and you’re not in any danger”.

You laughed incredulously, clutching your face with exasperation.

“Really? Is this how you fuckers get your kicks? Pretending to rent a room so you can pull messed up jokes?” you hissed. You should’ve known it was too good to be true. 

Steve and Bucky seemed unfazed by your disbelief. They both watched you with merriment as you got up and grabbed your purse, stuffing your wage stubs back inside. 

“You wanna show her or should I?” Bucky asked Steve.

“Knock yourself out” Steve replied dismissively. He reached for his phone.

As you headed to leave you had just managed to wrap your hand around the doorknob when Bucky was suddenly inches away from you in a single second.

You sputtered, turning to face him. “H-how did you get here so fast?” 

You looked over at Steve who was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, unbothered by whatever was happening just a few feet away from him. 

Bucky grinned. His eyes glowed yellow for a brief moment which made you gasp and slump against the door. You watched in horror as his canines grotesquely lengthened, morphing into something like animal teeth before your very eyes.

No, not animal teeth. Fangs.

At first you thought it was a prank, some sort of special effect or trick of the light.  But it wasn’t, you saw it with your own eyes and you knew it deep down. This was real. 

Suddenly it all clicked. Their inhumanly cold skin despite the warm house. The insistence on meeting at night. The way Bucky had soared across the room in half a second. The covered windows. 

They were vampires.

“This can’t be happening” you muttered under your breath, your chest rising and falling as fear gripped you. You wanted to run but you couldn’t, your terror freezing you on the spot like a deer in headlights. Panic had overtaken you.

“Hey. Don’t get yourself too worked up, like Buck said - you’re not in any danger” Steve offered casually, not looking up from his phone.

“You’re safe” Bucky echoed, and you saw his fangs slowly switch back into normal, human teeth as they were before. It was almost like it never happened. 

Almost.

“You wanna continue this? Or you wanna go home?” Bucky asked. He sounded annoyed, like you were somehow the unreasonable one here, wasting their time. 

“You’d just…l-let me leave?” Your eyes widened with fear. “Even though I know your secret?”

“Sure” said Steve, as if it was nothing. He was much softer and gentler than Bucky. “We can hypnotise you into forgetting and send you on your way. You’ll just think the room was a bust and that’ll be it. You think this is our first viewing?” 

You flapped your mouth open and close like a goldfish while they patiently waited for you to decide. It was too much. You couldn’t process it. Vampires existed?? Really? How could this be happening?

You wanted to tell them to hypnotise you, to erase all of this and let you go back to your life. You could return to blissful ignorance, rent a shoebox room somewhere else with actual humans. Human roommate toenail clippings and all.

But something inside you rebelled against all reason. A tiny voice of dissent amongst the otherwise harmonious chorus. You had no idea where it came from, it was against every survival instinct you had as adrenaline coursed through you. You battled against the urge to leave, to run as fast as you could out into the night and never look back. You couldn’t justify it, you knew it was stupid…but you listened to that tiny voice. 

“Tell me more about how this works” you whispered, as your rational brain screamed at you. 

[lambsouvlaki]

The Crime Lord (AU)

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, suggestive banter.

Word Count: 1,520

Summary: In an AU where Jason never stopped his crime lord ways, his partner is threatened and they have to decide if they're ready to take the next step.

Masterlist

--------

She looked carefully through her blinds. The man in the street was still there, hanging around the sealed up entrance of an old video rental store. 

She noticed him about five minutes ago when doing a cursory check just before she started getting ready for bed. The gun in the pocket of his padded jacket was not well hidden, neither was the gang tattoo on his neck. She couldn’t make out the affiliation from this range. It could be nothing. There were a lot of nasty looking characters in Crime Alley.

He looked up at her window again. 

Too big a risk.

She texted Jason. He replied immediately. 

Muttering angrily she wrapped a coat over her pyjamas and shoved her boots onto her feet. She threw her laptop and a few vital personal effects into a bag. She switched the tv on, knowing the moving lights would shine on the thin curtains. Wait, her phone charger, needed that. 

A heavy knock on the door rang out while she was still reaching down behind her bedside table.  

She took a steadying breath, in and out. She peered through the spyhole. Two men in black armoured gear with no identifying symbols stood in the corridor. She didn’t recognise either of them. Jason’s message said to expect a Larry and a Gavin. 

She opened the door. 

“Ma’am,” the older of the two said, a heavyset man with a bald patch and black gloves. The other was a young and wiry sort with a patchy beard. Both looked like the sort of person who knew how to dispose of a body in five minutes or less. Neither really looked at her, which was promising.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

“Gavin and Larry, ma’am,” the same man said without any detectable expression. Those definitely weren’t their real names but it served its purpose. “Come with us, please.”

She nodded, slung her bag over her shoulder, and followed them out. She locked the door behind her. 

The younger man held his hand out for the keys. Damnit, she’d liked this place. 

“There’s a very nice lasagna in the fridge. If you’re going to empty out the place anyway.” 

Gavin or possibly Larry’s lip quirked very briefly.

They led her out the back of the apartment building to the alley with its dumpsters and a bike missing both its wheels. The older guy walked in front of her and the other behind, all the way up to the tall chain link fence, which they helped her climb. A suitably forgettable old car waited for them on the other side. 

She really really hoped these were Jason’s guys. She was 99% sure they were, but there was always a moment of doubt before getting into a strange car to go to who knew where. They hadn’t checked her bag or taken her phone off her, which Black Mask’s goons always started with, followed by a blow to the back of the head. They could be from Little Italy of course, Falcone’s guys still held to notions of respect, when it suited them. Or they were paid off by the Bats. Probably not though. She wasn’t a pro but this wasn’t her first rodeo. 

They brought her to the docks, to one warehouse among hundreds. 

It was seemingly empty, with only its security lights on. She couldn’t see anyone around. Her escort walked her up to an office space on the second floor, while the other disappeared with the car. They stopped at a room with an electronic lock. She entered her own code, and the little light blinked green.

Alone, she entered a plain white room with no windows and some basic furniture. She would bet her entire meagre lift savings that Larry and/or Gavin was standing guard outside. 

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. This was how Jason showed his love, she knew that. All the things he couldn’t say were hidden in the effort he put into her safety. 

Then she shook herself out of her grousing, got her laptop out and sat down at the desk. There was a cot in the corner but she wasn’t getting any sleep now.

Hours later, when her eyes were starting to sting and she was eyeing up the cot with more interest, the door beeped.

The Red Hood walked in. 

She leaned back. He wore his helmet and his brown jacket hung open. There was a fine blood splatter over the plain grey armour beneath it, fresh enough to still be red. 

He sat opposite her at the desk, and slouched back with a sigh. His head rolled back on his neck. 

“How’s your night?” she asked. 

He grunted. 

“Hm,” she replied and typed another line of her email. 

“I want you to move in with me,” he said, voice rumbling through the modulator. She stopped typing. She closed the laptop. 

“Doesn’t that just make detection more dangerous? If they find me now it doesn’t compromise you.”

“It may as well,” he said, lifting his head to look at her. “I’m always going to come get you, and security is better at my place.”

She looked back at him thoughtfully. “We agreed it would cut into your work too much, and disrupt my life.” 

“You know you have to move again either way. For the second time this year.” He sighed heavily. “I’m already disrupting your life.”

She didn’t like the defeated tone sneaking in through the modulation. She had gotten very good at detecting the nuances that snuck through the voice changer over the last year. 

She got up and walked around the desk. She inclined her head in a way that asked if he had any injuries she needed to be aware of. He shook his head. She straddled his lap. His hands found her waist, snaking under her shirt and idly caressed the skin there. He didn’t even snort at the canary yellow pyjamas hiding under her coat, a sure sign he was worried. 

“And the disruption it would mean to your life?” she asked. 

“I can make it work. But you would have to be more careful. Much more careful.”

“Yes, I suppose I do.” She smiled sadly. “Even if I don’t move in, I can’t keep pretending I’m living a normal life anymore. 

“Don’t ask me to keep endangering you. If not this then…”

“Take the helmet off.”

He lifted it off and the terror who commanded half of Gotham’s undercity and petrified the other half disappeared like smoke. Only the man she loved more than she could articulate remained. He wasn’t in a domino mask tonight, and stormy green eyes looked up at her beseechingly. 

“This is the only way I can keep you safe while still being with you. Anything else is reckless.” He ducked his head. “Staying together is reckless enough already.”

She blinked through the hurt that lanced through her at that statement. He wasn’t even wrong, which made it worse. She knew they were playing with fire, and sooner or later someone would get burned. Today it wasn’t them. Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow? 

“I need an answer sweetheart.” He sounded preemptively heartbroken, but his face was hard. Braced for the final blow. 

“Can you tell me… do you want me to move in with you purely for safety reasons?”

He cocked his head.

“If nobody was trying to kill us,” she said, halting. “If you weren’t the most wanted man in Gotham, and we had the luxury of doing what we wanted purely because we wanted to… would you still ask me to move in with you?” 

He studied her for a long moment.

She swallowed and braced for the blow. She knew she wasn’t his first love. Gotham would forever have the larger claim on his heart. But she had to know if her claim on him was as serious as his claim on her.

“Yes. I would,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Don’t you know I love you?”

She made a soft noise in her throat. She cupped his jaw and pressed her lips to his. He titled his mouth against hers, drinking deeply of her. 

Finally she pulled back to breathe, panting against his lips. He squeezed her thighs, bracketing his legs. His arousal pressed against her. 

“Is that your final answer?” he asked in a husky drawl.

“Yeah.” She leaned her forehead against his. “I’ll move in with you. I’m in love with you, you know.” 

He flashed an extremely self-satisfied grin. 

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs. “If I didn’t have Black Mask’s man who tracked you down waiting for me in a pool of his own blood, I would bend you over this table right now to celebrate.” 

She snorted. “Come home with all your limbs attached and your blood mostly still inside of you, and we can celebrate all day.”

He nipped her lips. “I’ll come get you when I’m done. Gonna take you home.” 

She kissed him again.

——-

Next chapter >>

[rambheem-is-real]

Ee Varsham Sakshiga [With the Rain as Our Witness]

My submission for #varadevaloveday!

On the way back from Vedha's housewarming party, Deva and Varadha run into a storm. They take shelter in a hut, and Varadha suggests Truth or Dare. Which is a terrible game to play when you've been pining over your best friend for more than two decades.

Or: Modern AU Varadeva

-

“If you’re tired, go to sleep, raa,” Deva tells Varadha, breaking the sound of raindrops hitting the windshield of their rental car. 

Damn, Varadha thinks. 

Was Varadha tired? Yes. Was he actually pretending to be sleeping so he could ogle the other man? Also yes. Now he could either deny it, forcing himself to stay awake when his eyes probably wouldn’t stay open after the next few minutes and look like an idiot, or he could actually go to sleep, missing out on the wonderful sight of Deva driving. The angle at which he lifted the arm closest to Varadha as he steered was enough to ensure Varadha could see the muscle hidden beneath Deva’s dress shirt, a rare article of clothing for someone who usually preferred ratty T-shirts or tank tops. Deva had complained about it, of course. 

“Why the fuck were these torture devices invented?” Deva had snapped, fed up with being unable to fasten the tie to his neck. Varadha, already dressed up, had just laughed at him. 

“How are you, at your big age, unable to tie a tie?”

Deva just pouted, eyes pleading. And how could Varadha resist that? 

He had obliged, sliding off his perch on Deva’s desk to help him. Varadha’s fingers had felt like they were touching a live wire with every brush of his fingers against Deva’s neck, and the scent of Deva’s cologne so close hadn’t helped matters. 

“There, now you won’t look like a hobo at Vedha’s housewarming party,” Varadha jokes. 

“Vedha dresses just like me,” Deva complains. 

“Not today, he won’t.” 

Varadha had been right, all of their friends had shown up wearing some of their best. Not as fancy as the suits they had been wearing for the wedding a few months ago, but still classy. 

Now, the tie had been loosened, laying around his neck in a way that had Varadha imagining different circumstances. It did nothing to conceal the way the first few buttons on Deva’s shirt had been loosened, exposing Deva’s chest. Hence, the secret ogling. Varadha pushes down the instinctive fear that Deva had realized what was going on, that he had somehow found out about Varadha’s feelings. If Deva hadn’t realized in the last thirty years they had known each other, he damn well wasn’t figuring it out now. 

“Alright,” Varadha sighs. “My wonderful driver, wake me up when we get to your home.”

Varadha closes his eyes and leans onto the window, smiling at the chuckle he hears. The sound is more of a deep rumble with Deva’s voice, and it’s heavenly. Still smiling, Varadha lets thoughts of Deva lull him into sleep. 

-

The sound of the wipers furiously scrubbing the windshield breaks Varadha out of his nap. He opens his eyes to see a blur of water droplets and vague images of the road ahead of them. 

“Arey, em kanipisthundi ra neeku? [Dude, what can you see?]” He scoffs. “The rain’s gotten so much worse.”

Deva grits his teeth. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.” Varadha makes an incredulous sound, drawing Deva’s attention. He can see Deva briefly turn to him out of the corner of his eyes, and his tone softens. “Really, raa. It’s fine; it’s a straight road until we reach the state border. By that time the rain’s probably gonna be better.”

“You don’t know that-” Varadha gasps in the middle of his sentence. “DEER!”

Deva swerves on the wheel, slamming the breaks. They narrowly miss the brown creature annoyingly parked in the middle of the fucking road, and the action sends them hydroplaning onto the other lane where they stop. 

Varadha takes a second to calm himself, and Deva quickly turns to Varadha to scan him for injuries. They hadn’t even hit the deer, for fuck’s sake, but something in Varadha warms to see Deva being protective over him. However, the warmth won’t stop him from teasing the other man. After all, it was one of his favorite activities. 

“What are you looking at? Koncham road atu pothene gaayalosthaya?  [Just because we went a little bit out of the lane will I suddenly have injuries?]”

Seemingly satisfied with his scan, Deva just rolls his eyes. “Ah? Rani gariki antha sukhamgane unda ani, check chesthunna [Just checking to see if Her Majesty is still comfortable].” 

Varadha half-heartedly smacks Deva’s arm, before his eyes land on the dashboard GPS. 

“Rey, there’s no signal here,” he points out. 

Deva starts the car, pulling it into first gear. “I don’t need a GPS to tell me where to go.”

“Mahanubhavuda [Oh great man],” Varadha says, folding his hands sarcastically, “You can do whatever you want when you’re by yourself. Me personally, I don’t want to get lost outside in this rain. Stop by the side of the road. Let’s wait for the GPS to figure its shit out.” 

“I told you already, it’ll be fine-” Deva’s interrupted by the sound of the tires hitting a pothole, and they both wince as they jolt in their seats. 

Varadha scans what he can see of the road, and finds a small hut coming up by the side, a few feet in. 

“Rey, rey, rey, there’s something there, stop!” He taps Deva’s arm in succession. “We can wait out the storm.”

Deva sighs but acquiesces. He pulls over to the side, in front of the structure, which looks more like a hut now that Varadha can get a less blurry look at it. Deva turns to look at Varadha, giving him a happy now? look. 

Varadha just grins at him. For all his teasing, for all his insults, Deva would agree to do anything Varadha asked of him when the time came. Varadha slowly curls his hand around the door handle. 

“Last one to the hut pays for gas!” He barely finishes before he gets out. The rain pelts his back as he lifts a hand above his head, trying and failing to keep his hair dry. Varadha hears an indignant shout and a “Vara!” muffled behind him, and suppresses the giggle that wants to climb out of him as he enters the hut. 

First, he thinks smugly as he observes the interior. Never mind that he had had the advantage there. Not like Deva hadn’t ever pulled some shit like this before. Tom and Jerry, Deva’s mom had lovingly called them as kids when they wouldn’t stop fighting when Varadha came over. Only she had realized that behind each prank, behind each childish insult, was a deep bond of love, and that fighting with each other was just the way they expressed their affection. They could go from happily playing with toys, to getting into a wrestling match, to guiltily soothing each other, all within the span of a few minutes. 

Varadha briefly spares a thought to the fact that Atha [aunt/mother-in-law] might be worried that they hadn’t come back home yet. There was nothing to do now, though. A quick glance at his phone shows no bars, just as he had expected. He and Deva would just have to apologize once they got to his home. 

Deva runs in a second later, almost knocking Varadha over. He frowns as he examines what he can see of the cramped space they’re now in. Varadha pulls on the wire near his face, and is rewarded with a flickering, weak light above their heads. Now that they can see better, it’s clear the hut wasn’t meant for someone to live in. Neither of them would be able to lie down flat on the floor, the rounded walls would prevent that. 

“Rey Vara-” 

Oh, Varadha can’t take that tone. That gentle, you deserve so much better tone. He sits down fully, resting his back to the wall, before Deva finishes. He glares up at Deva, still standing, who just looks exasperated. 

“I’m fine,” Varadha stresses, and what a reversal that is. 

Deva hesitates for a few more seconds before he gives up and joins him, sitting across so their calves touch. 

Varadha hates these moments. He loves now living with Deva and Atha, and being able to be around Deva more. If he has to adjust to living less lavishly than he had growing up, that’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make. 

Deva doesn’t see it that way, though. Every time Varadha’s had to eat leftover rice, take public transportation, stand in the hot sun for more than a few minutes, he gets this look on his face, some combination of guilt and anger, the latter emotion only for Varadha’s ex-family, of course. It never seems to get into his head that Varadha’s fine with this, that he’s not so soft as to consider any of these more than minor inconveniences. Deva had been both elated and sad to hear that Varadha and Baachi had left the Mannars. 

Elated because he had been there for all of the times Varadha’s family had humiliated, hurt, and insulted them, all for the crime of being born to a different mother. It had been Varadha who had kept Deva from trying to get back at his siblings numerous times for the shit they had put him through. Sad, because it meant Varadha was leaving his comfortable life with his wealthy family, to come tough it out inside Deva’s apartment, which was barely big enough for Deva and Atha by themselves. 

Well, the Raisans being in that situation was Raja Mannar’s fault in the first place, but Varadha was genuinely happy to live with Deva, and his decision had nothing to do with his separate secondhand guilt for the way Deva and Atha had to live their lives as he grew up with all of his basic needs automatically taken care of. Baachi had figured out a roommate situation with his own boyfriend, Rinda, and Varadha had begrudgingly accepted, not before attempting a shovel talk (successful, Rinda looked terrified) and a lecture on using protection (unsuccessful, Baachi had all but shoved him out the door after that).

Fuck. Now they’re both upset, and there’s a storm raging outside. Varadha can hear faint thunder in the distance, and he knows with their luck the storm will pass right over them. 

He tries to think of something that’ll lighten the mood, something to do to pass the time. Varadha nudges Deva’s foot with his own, to get Deva’s attention. He had been staring morosely at the ground, but he looks up to meet Varadha’s eyes. 

“Truth or dare?” Varadha asks. 

Deva just raises an eyebrow, and Varadha flushes. 

“I don’t see you coming up with something. Either figure something out or answer the question,” Varadha demands. 

Deva sighs. “Sare [Ok], raa. Dare.”

Varadha looks around the hut. What the fuck could he even dare Deva to do here? 

Deva seems to also realize this, and snickers. Oh, it’s on, Varadha thinks. Both of them had competitive streaks, and the best way to provoke was to act like the other was powerless. 

“I dare you to spend thirty seconds outside.” 

Deva’s jaw drops. “It’s raining!” 

“Exactly. Get out.”

Deva rolls his eyes, but dutifully crawls outside to lie in the grass for thirty seconds. Varadha definitely doesn’t admire the way the water droplets run across his skin.

When he comes back inside, he’s fully soaked, and Varadha realizes he’s made a mistake. The space is so small the puddles that Deva makes flow over to where Varadha is. 

Deva suddenly leans over Varadha, and before he can react, roughly shakes his head so the droplets in his hair land onto Varadha’s face. Varadha sputters, jumping away, and Deva laughs back to his spot on the floor. 

“Kukka [dog],” Varadha mutters, as Deva’s laughter slowly trails off. 

“Ok, my turn,” Deva says, still grinning widely. “Truth or Dare, Vara?”

Well, Varadha’s not going to pick dare. “Truth.” Deva opens his mouth, then closes it. Varadha smirks at him. “Whatever diabolical plan you had, it’s not happening.”

Deva pouts. “Damn, I gotta actually think of something to ask you now.” His brows knit together in concentration. “What don’t I know about you?”

A good question, actually. They had been inseparable ever since they had been introduced as toddlers, the sons of Raja Mannar and Dhaara Raisan. Every joy, every sorrow in their lives, they had shared with each other. 

“Do you actually approve of Rinda, or are you just ok with it for Baachi’s sake?”

That’s easy. “He’s an idiot, but not bad.” Not bad, Deva mouths at him, and Varadha flips him off, grinning. “He’s higher on my list than most other people, at least. And I trust Baachi to keep him in line.”

They smile at each other for a few more seconds. 

“My turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Varadha flicks an eyebrow, and Deva rolls his eyes once more. “You could barely come up with a dare last time. There’s nothing to do in here. Might as well make it a truth game.” He doesn’t like it, but Varadha can see the logic in that. 

“Alright.” He racks his brain for what he can ask Deva that he doesn’t already know. “Have you ever had a crush on anyone? Obviously, someone you didn’t tell me about.” 

Nice going Varadha , he thinks. Totally subtle. 

But Deva just contemplates it. Like there actually was an answer to that that wasn’t, Are you out of your mind? If there was someone I would’ve told you.  

“Promise me.” Varadha says, suddenly. “Promise me that everything you say for the rest of the game is true.” He hopes that if there really were secrets between them, this night would change that. 

Deva stares, mouth set in a hard line, for long enough that Varadha starts to sweat. Does.. does Deva want to keep secrets from him? Eventually he does lift up his pinky. “I swear.”

Varadha gives him a Look, now trusting him even less. Deva sighs. “I pinky swear, on our friendship, that I’ll tell the truth.” He then quickly links the pinky with Varadha’s. “And Varadharaja Mannar will also tell the truth.” Varadha opens his mouth, and then closes it. Well, he’d be a hypocrite if he didn’t agree to the deal as well. Complete honestly from both, then. 

“Sare, sare [Ok, ok]. Now answer the question.” 

Deva looks at the ground for the first time, not being able to meet Varadha’s eyes. “Yes,” he mumbles, and Varadha’s heart sinks. 

“My turn,” Deva says, quickly. “Have you..” He hesitates, but forges on. “Have you ever went all the way with anyone?”

“Have I had sex, you mean?”

“I’m just curious,” he defends himself. “Isn’t that the kind of question you would ask in a Truth or Dare game?”

“Yes,” Varadha answers honestly, to his first question. Deva takes in that information, eyes unreadable. “Now you. Do you still feel that way for that person?”

Deva closes his eyes, as if expecting a reaction from Varadha. “...Yes.”

Oh. Varadha forces a laugh. “Rasikudive, raa nuvvu [you’re really a player],” he jokes. “Pakkane mogudni pettukoni vere valla gurinchi matladthunnavu [you’re talking about other people with your husband right next to you].” The flirtatious banter was an inside joke between them, sometimes referring to each other as their husband or wife in private. It doesn’t seem to land in this moment, where Deva just looks pained. 

“Rey..” he starts, and Varadha interrupts. 

“It’s your turn to ask me something.”

Deva just looks at him. “Does it bother you? That I said yes to the past two questions?”

Fuck. Varadha hates his past self for suggesting this game. But he had promised. And it’s not like Varadha wasn’t a jealous person in general, even towards people Deva knows he has only platonic feelings for. 

“Yes,” he answers. Deva’s eyes widen. Moving on. 

“Does the person know you have feelings for them?” They’re getting dangerously close to what Varadha really wants to know, the identity of this mysterious crush of Deva’s. 

“No.” Deva says, quickly, but surely. Like that was unquestionable, like he had resigned himself to unrequited feelings a long time ago. “Do you? Have someone you like, I mean.”

Varadha keeps his eyes on Deva, thinking again about how if Deva had suspected anything he probably would’ve done so a long time ago. “Yes.” Deva’s eyes widen once again, and Varadha can see genuine surprise and hurt. 

Well, if they were talking about secrets. “Were you the one who beat up Ranga?”

Deva flinches. 

Varadha had always felt estranged from his family, but a few years ago, the catalyst for his leaving was Ranga. His brother’s boytoy? Boyfriend? Pet? Varadha still doesn’t know what he is to Rudra, but one day Ranga apparently thought it would be funny to call and withdraw Varadha’s application to his dream university. Varadha had been devastated, but knew better than to start something when Rudra could just as easily do the same to the other colleges he had applied to in retaliation. Let them pay for his college, graduate and then cut them off - this was Varadha’s mantra for higher education. 

He had, of course, raged about it in private with Deva. Had broken down, barely eaten dinner that night, slept with his head in Deva’s lap on the couch with Atha glancing worriedly at him. Varadha hadn’t told another soul about it. 

The day after, he went home to get a suitcase of his clothes and other belongings thrown at him the second he walked through the door. From the doorway, he could see all his trophies, his certificates, smashed on the living room floor. 

Someone had beaten up Ranga that morning. They had beaten him so bad he was in the hospital in a coma. Rudra had furiously enquired as to what happened, and somehow found out about what Ranga did. He had assumed it was Varadha, taking revenge, and had told Raja Mannar. And of course he only focused on the fact that Varadha had hurt someone, not even caring about the reason why. With Radha Rama’s encouragement, he had taken the decision to legally disown Varadha. 

That was the last day Varadha stepped foot in that house. He had gone numbly over to Deva’s apartment, holding nothing but his suitcase. Atha had opened the door, taken one look at him and the suitcase, and waved him in, had told him the guest room was always his. When Deva got home, Varadha could see the shock and clear guilt across his face. 

He had never asked Deva about it, and Deva didn’t talk about it. Varadha didn’t even blame him. He only felt mildly upset that if Ranga’s face did get smashed in, it wasn’t Varadha that had done it. 

“Was it you?” Varadha repeats the question. He knows the answer, of course. He just wants Deva to say something about it, now that they had both sworn to tell the truth. 

A shadow of Deva’s guilt that day comes back now, shoulders slumping. “Yes,” Deva whispers. “But you knew that.”

“I did.”

They sit in silence for a few more seconds. Varadha can be patient when he wants to, and can outwait even Deva, a man of few words. 

Eventually the tension is too much for Deva. “I’m sorry, raa,” he says, desperate. “I wasn’t thinking, at all. I didn’t expect them to take it out on you. That morning, I woke up still dreaming of your tears, and I couldn’t do anything, think of anything other than fucking that bastard up.” The last part is gritted out. “He’s lucky I didn’t kill him. I definitely wanted to, just for making you cry, for taking away your chances at your dream college.” 

Varadha swallows. He knows Deva cares about him more than anything, but to hear it put like that, it’s scary and reassuring at the same time. “You didn’t say anything about it afterwards, though. Even when I came to your house that day.”

Deva closes his eyes. “Does it make me a terrible person if some part of me, some small part of me was glad it happened?”

“Glad?”

“Because.. because it led to you staying with me.” He quickly clears his throat. “With us. Me and Amma.”

Varadha stares. Deva opens his eyes, and winces at whatever he finds on Varadha’s face. “I’m sorry. But it’s the truth. I felt awful for you getting kicked out, I felt awful that I ruined your life. I genuinely wanted to end it all, for a few days.” Varadha remembers the quiet, devastated glances Deva kept sending him all week, when he thought Varadha couldn’t see him. “But then I would see you, eating with us, laughing along with us into the late hours of the night, sleeping in the room that was now yours…” He swallows. Deva doesn’t finish the sentence, but Varadha, so closely attuned with his best friend, could easily tell what he wanted to convey. 

They sit in silence as Varadha digests this information, both looking anywhere other than each other. Eventually, Deva leans his head out of the hut, and comes back in, only slightly wet. 

He hesitantly tries to tell Varadha, “The storm seems to have broken-”

“Your turn.” Varadha interrupts. 

“My what?”

“Your turn.” Varadha nudges him with his foot. “Truth or.. truth I guess.”

“Are you angry at me?” He whispers, looking genuinely scared. Like what Varadha says now would screw with him for the rest of his life. “For what I did?” 

Varadha just stares at him, letting Deva squirm. 

Finally, he responds, mouth slowly curving into a smile. “Yedava [idiot]. If I actually was mad at you I’d have let you know the day it happened. I’m just mad you didn’t call me when you were beating him up because I had shit to say as well.”

Deva’s jaw drops. “You- you- dongasachinoda [fucking asshole]. You had me thinking you hated me!” 

Varadha can’t hold it back anymore, starts laughing uncontrollably. “Your-your face!” He wheezes. “You were so scared!”

Deva attempts to pout but fails to hold back a relieved grin. “Dick.”

“Well, if that’s what you want-,” Varadha winks, then laughs again as Deva attempts to hit him for that. He overshoots, and ends up falling on his face, onto Varadha’s thighs. Deva shifts into a more comfortable position, looking up at Varadha now. 

Varadha looks at Deva’s affectionate smile, and thinks back to the admission that Deva had loved having Varadha living with him. Suddenly, Varadha’s a lot less scared about who Deva’s been talking about. He thinks, he hopes, that he’s guessing it correctly. “What’s his name?”

Deva’s smile dims a bit. “Who?”

“It’s my turn, raa. What’s his name, the one you’ve been pining over?”

“How’d you know it was a guy?”

“You can’t ask questions, you only can answer mine. That’s how the game works.”

Deva looks deep into Varadha’s eyes, searching. Finally, he answers. “You seem so confident. Why don’t you answer, and I’ll tell you if it’s right?”

In response, desperately praying to every god he can think of that he’s not fucking this up, not ruining their friendship irrevocably, Varadha leans down and kisses Deva. 

There’s a brief moment of shock, a moment where Deva freezes, that Varadha starts panicking. 

Oh fuck shit fuck shit shit shit fuck fuck fuuuuuuuck-

Deva pulls back. 

I’ve gotta move out I can’t show my face anymore-

He sits up fully, so he’s facing Varadha. 

I’ve got to change my name, move to a different country, fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“What was that?” Deva’s face is carefully blank, but Varadha knows his own must be giving all of his feelings away. 

“I… thought it was me?” Varadha tries, feeling like a lump of embarrassment. He clears his throat, averting his eyes. “Or not. That’s fine. I’ll just-” He attempts to stand up, trying to push Deva off his lap. Fuck the rain, he’ll walk to Deva's house if that’s what he has to do to get out of here. And immediately start packing his shit once he gets there. 

He hears the unmistakable sound of a giggle from Deva, and Varadha snaps his head back around to see Deva with his hands clapped over his mouth. They can’t hide the wide grin he’s struggling to hold back well enough, though.

“What the fuck?”

Deva gives up and tugs Varadha back down, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Oh so only you’re allowed to pretend you’re mad at me?” 

“Ohh, you fucker!” Varadha pinches Deva in the side, hard, and Deva yelps, but it doesn’t stop either of their laughter. 

Deva pulls Varadha into a kiss, and this time it’s heavenly with both of them reciprocating. Both of their lips are chapped and dry from the lack of food or water, but Varadha doesn’t care. Deva, his Deva, is kissing him. 

They pull back, only far enough so Deva can rest his forehead on Varadha’s. 

He laughs incredulously. “Let me guess, you’ve also been secretly pining for your best friend all your life.”

“Fucking hell,” is all Varadha says in response, grinning. 

“We’re idiots.”

“Yep.”

Deva groans. “Even your brother saw it before we did, he kept teasing us at the party that we showed up together like a couple.”

“I think the whole world saw it before we did,” Varadha sighs. “I don’t know about your mom, though.” Deva winces, and Varadha pulls back, frowning. “What?”

“I might’ve…. told my mom at age six if I was going to marry anyone it was going to be you? And then repeated it when I was twenty-one and she started talking about people I might be interested in?” He grins, embarrassed. 

Varadha’s eyes widen as something occurs to him, and Deva immediately starts protesting. 

“No, no, it’s not like that-”

“Damn, you really were down bad for me, huh,” Varadha smirks, and Deva groans, hiding his face in Varadha’s chest. “What else, were you doodling our names together in your notebooks with hearts? Were you the one that put that sappy ass love letter in my locker in the ninth grade?” Deva doesn’t say anything, and Varadha bursts out laughing. “Wait, seriously?” 

Deva immediately pushes himself out of the light embrace Varadha’s been holding him in, and looks outside. “Well would you look at that, the sun is shining and it’s not pouring anymore.”

Varadha gets to his feet as well, grinning. He’s absolutely delighted at this turn of events, and won’t ever let Deva live this down. 

Deva’s about to go outside to the car, cheeks red, when he stops. He hesitantly takes Varadha’s hand in his own, looks at him like Is this okay? Is this too fast?

Varadha just brings the hand up to his lips, presses a kiss to the knuckles. An unspoken It’s very okay. 

Deva smiles shyly, and they head out to their car, hand in hand. The combination of the light rain and the bright sun makes a very visible half rainbow at the end of the field across from them, and Varadha smiles. 

"Let's go to our home, raa," he says. 

-

tags: @deadloverscity @ghostdriftexistence @zici @sambaridli @sometimesbrave @just-a-lazy-person @vijayasena @sinistergooseberries all the other server lovelies as well

[morpheus-somnium]

College of Winterhold [modern au]

[masterlist]

Informations

Location: Winterhold, Old Town

Headmaster: Savos Arven

Headcanons

The whole school is held together by magic (which is somewhat like how a system administrator keeps electricity in check at a workplace, you know, like Nedry in Jurassic Park).

A little magic outage and poof! The old town falls apart.

Most students live in the dormitory section, not because they can't afford to rent (okay, they also might be a little bit broke), but because local rentals are expensive since the local landlords can't stand them (due to the magic outages).

However, the professors and staff have quite nice houses nearby. 🏠

The university mainly focuses on magic and magical STEM, but there are also history and literature majors.

The college has its own merch, which is worn by many students. (Mostly hoodies and jackets)

The students wear robes mixed with modern clothing. They are going to wear Converse shoes and Jordan’s with those blue robes.

Because the school’s acronym is CoW, their mascot is a cow 🐄

Most students are broke because it's hard to find magic-related jobs nearby. However, they can work as teaching assistants in elementary and high schools, sell various potions and poisons at the market, or work at local fast-food restaurants.

But of course, there’s another approach for the persistent ones, as one of the professors can get them jobs at the black market—

Also, all the new dr*gs come from here? I mean, of course not all, but the bored alchemy students are capable of anything. By the way, quite a few staff members also use those dr*gs. (cough cough Enthir cough cough)

The “Midden” wasn’t just closed because it’s dangerous, but also because many people were dared to go down there and spend who knows how much time there. Various urban legends have been circulating about it since. Some students met their deaths there (even the teachers say this during classes, though legally speaking, nothing like this has happened in the last ~100 years), and some are still lurking there (like Gollum).

The building is similar to the one in the game, only larger (to be honest, everything is larger than in the game. Whether we’re talking about buildings, cities, or distances, everything is always larger than in the game).

There’s a cafeteria and several classrooms. The dormitory rooms are larger, single occupancy, and equipped with a table, a wardrobe, a cabinet, and a bookshelf. Every hallway has a bathroom section, a small common kitchen, and a small alchemy lab.

Ancano was sent here by the embassy. He’s always stiffly dressed in a suit, so the students bully him for it. Sometimes, though, he helps teaching or organizing documents (he acts like he’s offended when asked, but on the inside he’s happy that he has something to do).

The students and professors, if they don’t visit home for holidays, make sure that the people of Skyrim have a nice, snowy Yule.

How do you recognize a CoW student?

Looks like a nerd

Probably wears glasses (either “real glasses” because their eyesight is horrible, or safety glasses from a class)

Wears comfy College of Winterhold hoodies

Always has a laptop nearby

Ink-stained hand

Scars from using destruction magic, or from a classmate that played with sharp objects using telekinesis

Wears a soulgem necklace

Smells like weed herbs

Has a bottle of tea filled with charred skeever hide and eye of sabre cat, for the good prosperties 💯💯

[jamiesfootball]

I still feel like the same person I’ve Been 👀

5+1 Times Jamie fell asleep in front of Roy Kent (the person, not the poster) aka sleepy Jamie au aka the fic I started writing before the finale that I still haven't posted, but I swear it's still active, I am still Working on It. This fic is beloved to me.

For your patience, here is a snippet:

Jamie barked out a hoarse laugh, the sound of it echoing unpleasantly against the bare walls of the rental house. "Look, Ted," he bitterly told the toy soldier. "Your favorite player’s on the telly." It didn't feel real, reality bending around the weight of it. Roy Kent was on the telly. Roy Kent was never on the telly. Sure, there were match highlights, disappointing replays where the pundits would all sit round in the room and talk delicately about how great he was 'back in the day', but he couldn't remember the last time Kent had been trotted out for a presser. He was a bitter, old angry dinosaur; he hated interviews, and if you let him talk long enough, so would ever reporter in the room. Yet there he was. On the telly. Same as he'd been when Jamie was coming up. And he was wearing a suit. And a tie. And he was holding notecards. The world seemed to shrink. Dread fisted in his stomach. Numbly Jamie turned the volume up. The icepack slipped forgotten against his arm as he pushed himself up on his elbow.

[unknownarmageddon]

swimming pools at night

killer belongs to rahafwabas cross belongs to jael peñaloza rental suits au belongs to me and @psycho-chair

[connectionterminated13]

Connection established welcome!

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

Hello my name is connection terminated13! I am a 16 year old Canadian learning artist. I use she/her

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

I am big fan of the stupid bear game (fnaf).I do like other things though like little nightmares, Adventure time, John dies at the end. But it's mostly just fnaf!

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

Also please remember I have dyslexia and use speech to type! I often make spelling errors so if you see one just tell me:3

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

DNI list: Proship, Terfs, Pedophiles/Zoophiles, Bigotry of any kind, No extreme NSFW (I mostly mean purposely sexual stuff)

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

Fnaf AU's!!!

#fnaf Inferno au

Basically my version of the events depicted in the stupid bear game :)

#fnaf Death swap

Almost all of the deaths are swapped in the main series. Charlie lives Sammy dies, Charlie's friends are the Mci, Michael dies to baby instead of Elizabeth.

The plot mostly follows a much older Elizabeth Who is soon to turn 22, Lives in a small apartment with her girlfriend Susie and plays in a punk band that she created called "Baby and the circus freaks". One night she gets a call from her father that Michael is still here, at circus babies entertainment in rentals and it's Elizabeth strobbed to put him back together...

# Fractured Memories

Evan survives the bite But understand that he is supposed to die. He also knows that his family all die and become horrible monsters. At tonight he can see the monsters his family becomes. As for the family they're dealing with the physical afflictions of death's not yet to come. All Evan can do is sit back and watch as his memory and reality fractures further

#cub au

Cassie is phone dude's daughter, phone dude dies in FNAF 3 and having no one else to take care of her Michael decides to adopt her.

It's mostly just Michael being a really good dad and Cassie being a cute little kid

#fnaf Rewrite

A rewrite of the twisted ones but mostly the fourth closet novels. Getting rid of the gross stuff and generally trying to improve the story!

#Gears and rot au

William made some robot versions of his dead daughter and son then realized how fucking weird that was and shut them down in the murder clown basement. Years later Michael goes down and does a sister location. The robot version of Evan is able to save him before he becomes a skin suit but Mikey still "dies" from internal bleeding

It's now Michael's job to take care of the little robot even though it is creepy and weird...

#Victorian AU

I can't believe I haven't added this one yet! Should probably summarize it

It's kind of like 5 nights at Freddy's but Victorian... There's some twists added in.. You're just gonna have to go and find out!!!!!

# Farbear fright re imagining

Basically my take on fazbear frights :3

Cassie in the dark

It's not just a normal AU it's an ask blog!!!

@cassie-in-the-dark

General goofiness

I have like 6 au that I never really did anything with... You can find them if you want...

Upcoming???

Extremely silly :3

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

And here's some of my arts!!

[saratinz]

Maneater (Chapter 1)

pairing ➩ Ex!Bucky Barnes x Promiscuous!Reader (College AU)

series warnings ➩ drinking, asshole!Bucky, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, love triangle, smut, slut shaming, cursing

chapter warnings ➩ cursing, mentions of sex, kissing, betrayal (because reader is very bad at self control)

synopsis ➩ Y/n fucks up.

word count ➩ 800

“Truth or dare, Sophia?” says a drunk frat boy. You’re barely paying attention to the game. Instead you are focusing on the music that plays. You listen as it goes from The Killers to Kendrick Lamar. And from Kendrick to Dua Lipa. And from Dua to…

“Y/n?” Your friend, Wanda, pulls you out of your trance. 

“Truth or dare?” you hear a dude ask. The voice belongs to Thor, who definitely falls under the dumb jock stereotype. He’s not mean, but he also isn’t nice. It’s his ego that repels you.

“Dare,” you say without hesitation.

“Hmm,” he pretends to think. You already know he’s gonna tell you to kiss him. It’s written all over his face for one, he’s giving you major ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Kiss me,” and there it is. You walk over to him, grab him by the cheek, and connect your lips to his. It starts to get awkward for everyone as he sticks his tongue in your mouth as far as it will go. Not wanting to continue this uncomfortable embrace, you pull back and return to the spot beside Wan. Drinking your vodka and cranberry juice, you dare her to take a shot. 

As the game goes on you think about things. Like all those times Jane, your roommate, mentioned she had a thing for Thor. Well by the looks of it, he does not feel the same way. He’s a player and she should know that. The only reason he kissed you was the hope of sex. He’s not a keeper, so no, you don’t feel bad about your dare.

A half hour goes by and the game finally ends, leaving you to go back to your house. When suddenly, Thor pops by your side. “Can I walk you home?” He asks.

“Uhh, sure,” you give him a slight smile. A walk home is innocent, and you like the sound of having a football player by your side as you travel across campus in the dark. 

“So, I know we haven’t really talked that much, but I think you’re really cool and pretty, and maybe sometime we can go on a date.” He takes you by surprise, maybe Jane was right. Honestly, you had never expected the word date to come out of his mouth, and it’s really making you want him. What girl doesn’t like a little bit of attention?

“You know what, I’d really like that, but my friend is sorta in love with you.”

“Who,  Jane?”

“Yeah” You feel kinda wrong for telling him, but you’re not in middle school and it seems like he already knows. Your friendship with Jane is pretty superficial, she really just uses you for your notoriety among male students. But you’re not complaining, her dad pays for your housing. Of course you offered to pay your share, but he insisted.

“She’s spoiled and petty, but you, you’re perfect.” Shit. Fuck. Thor is saying all the right things. The silence that surrounds you is comforting, and you don’t feel bad at all, everything feels safe as you walk for a few uninterrupted seconds. 

“Listen as much as I want to kiss you, and I really do, I just can’t. I have to respect my friend, and she really likes you. You’re off limits”

“Wow, you’re a really good friend, sorry I don’t mean to make you feel pressured.”

“No, don’t feel bad. Shit, I made this awkward.”

He chuckles. “No you didn’t, just, I shouldn’t have asked you out” For three minutes, the two of you walk in silence. But being a good person was never your strong-suit. 

“What you said it isn’t true, I’m not a good friend.” He raises his eyebrows in curiosity. As you approach your doorway, your lips run to his, leaving the two of you making out right in front of your rental. His tongue is much more calculated than it was at the party, and his hands start to squeeze your ass. That’s when you pull back. You can’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you say, disappointment evident in your tone. This is just wrong, you’re a horrible friend. You run to your door and slam the it shut. What the fuck did you just do? As you melt into the wall, struggling to breathe, you see Jane with the angriest expression you’ve ever seen. “Jane, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I did that.” 

Suddenly, your home is filled with screams of disappointment, anger, sadness, jealousy, and just about every negative emotion known to man. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” And you don’t bother reasoning with her, she will always get her way. 

Previous chapter / Masterlist / Next chapter

[justabigoldnerd]

Find The Word Game

Thank you so much @the-golden-comet for the tag!! These are fun!!!

My Words: morning, sky, sun, and planet

Your Words: funny, disappear, weapon, adventure

Morning: (from a second unnamed Library AU)

It's plain black, this time. Solo hadn't been happy about it, but there was a meeting that morning and Sanders had been very clear about the dress code. Then the meeting had stretched on for much longer than it should have, so he found himself with no time to go and change into a nicer suit. He checks his hair in the rear view mirror of his rental car and fixes his tie, then opens the door. The parking lot was much fuller than usual, so he couldn't park in his usual spot closer to the door. Another roadblock. With his luck so far today, Illya wouldn't even be working.

Sky: (from an unnamed Winged Spies fic about feather gifting)

The sun hangs low in the sky when they finally reach their apartment in London. They are jet lagged and sore; each sporting abrasions in multiple places and missing a few feathers. Dried blood still stains Illya's knuckles and crusts beneath Gaby's nails. All Illya wants to do is curl up with her and try to sleep, but they both need to shower. So he drops his keys on the door table and abandons their luggage in front of it, suggesting they shower together to be done with it.

Sun: (from "I Am Your Lover (I Am Your Jailor)")

Robins trilled sweetly outside, welcoming the rising spring sun with unbridled mirth. Golden light dripped into the room, rousing Illya slowly from sleep. He rolled onto his back and pressed his palms against his burning eyes, puffy from tears he hadn't known had fallen the day before. Illya pushed himself up with a groan and a sharp hiss of pain from a stitch in his ribs– likely from Solo landing on top of him.

Planet: (Look. I searched every single WIP I have and could not find a SINGLE instance of this word so I'm gonna just promote "To Find Someone To Talk To, Who Likes The Way I Am" lmao)

Grief like liquid nitrogen filled Solo's veins and seized his heart. Back home. A conversation that happened in early October clawed its way to the front of his memory. ‘I need to keep my heart out of this,’ he'd told Gaby. And yet here he was, lounging in bed with that supposed-to-be-hook-up, nearing their three month anniversary. Illya had met all his friends, and got along swimmingly with them all (Frankie had, of course, tried to convince Solo to start a harem with them). He'd met his mother, who loved him like he was already her son-in-law. When Solo looked out into his future, he could no longer imagine a life without a tiny German brunette and a massive blond Russian by his side. He loved Illya. And, beyond all belief, Illya loved him back. The love of his life was going to be on the other side of the planet in less than a month, and Solo had no idea if they'd ever be able to see each other in person again.

No pressure tagging @pippinoftheshire @huggiebird @yallwildinrn @times-up-alone-tonight @too-young-to-fall-in-love

@heytheredeann @cha-melodius @nicijones @thattripleabattery and anyone else who wants to join!!

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Jaehyun finds a cute little café with a cuter owner on the first day of his vacation. Pairing: Jaehyun x fem!reader Tropes: spring break au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language Smut Warnings: face fucking, degradation, name calling, slight dacryphilia Word Count: 1,875 Note: Thank you to @baljinciaga​ for beta/proofreading this!!

WITT Masterlist ៚ Chapter 2: Bikinis and Bathhouses

“Yo, this place is fuckin’ nice!” Mingyu bellows the moment they enter the bungalow.

“You’re the one who booked it. I’d hope you’d think it’s nice.” Youngkyun pokes.

He slips past the older and heads straight to the room he had been assigned to share with San. Changmin follows behind, wheeling his suitcase with him. Passing by the oversized sectional and the stairway, he finds his place in the master suite. Though Kino does complain about the red hair man getting the suite, it is only fair. He put the largest portion of money into the rental and should have the biggest space.

“Enjoy that couch, Mingyu. You’ll be sleeping there for the next week.” Jaehyun teases, “Maybe if you had put more into your idea, you wouldn’t be sleeping there.”

Mingyu grumbles but tosses his bag into the corner and flops onto the L-shaped sectional. Jaehyun climbs the flight of stairs and finds his roommate, Kino, already lounging on his chosen bed. Jaehyun takes one look at the garishly ugly cyan bedding and sighs. At least the view was nice, he could easily watch the beach outside his window, and by proxy, people watch as well. He has no idea how Mingyu managed to get a bungalow directly on the beach for the price he did, but he won’t complain.

“When are you thinking about going down there?” Hyunguu asks.

“Not today. I was gonna get changed and wander around the village. Did you wanna tag along?” the brunette replies.

“Nah, I’m gonna get settled for a little. That plane ride took me out.”

Jaehyun nods and grabs a random t-shirt and a pair of shorts from his bag to get changed. He ends up in a rather bland ensemble; a black t-shirt and black shorts. He puts on one of his silver chains to give some diversity to what he’s wearing. He overhears Youngkyun and San chatting about something when he exits his room. He can’t be bothered to eavesdrop, though. Once down the stairs, he sees Mingyu and Changmin lounging on their phones on the sectional. He asks them if they want to join him, but they’re still recovering from the flight, just like his other friends.

The village is cute enough; nothing jumps out at him, but nothing seems too boring. It’s a small village. He didn’t expect it to be a party town or anything like that. He sees a small cafe on one of the side streets and decides to go check it out. It’s a small little building. It seems to have been repurposed due to how the structure looks like the original architecture of the village. Other places look newer and more modern. He likes how this place looks, though; it has character in a good way.

The bell at the top of the door chimes quietly when he enters. He sees a girl behind the counter. She’s clearly bored out of her mind leaning over the counter. There’s no one person in the small building besides the two. She’s scrolling through her phone and hasn’t even said a word to Jaehyun; she hasn’t even looked up from her phone yet, for that matter.

“Excuse me,” he cuts through the silence, “are you open?”

You look up at him and immediately start sizing him up. You’ve never seen him before. Not many people know about your little village when the city is less than an hour away. He’s pretty. He’s really pretty. The way his hair is just wavy enough to give texture but not wavy enough to be frizzy (also thanks to the lower humidity today). The chocolate locks are mixed with bits of highlights. They aren’t overdone or too contrasting from the brown, but there enough to show.

“Yeah,” you nod, “it’s just not busy. It’s never really busy.”

“Well, you got time to tell me about this place?” he asks.

“There’s not much to know, honestly. How about I get you a drink, and then I’ll tell you.”

“Buying me a drink already? I don’t even know your name.”

“I never said it was on the house.” you tease back, and tell him your name in an offhanded comment, “Do you want a tea, coffee, fruity drink?”

“I’m Jaehyun. You can just surprise me with the drink.” he shrugs.

You start making a coffee for him. He seems like a black coffee kind of guy, but in this heat, an Iced Americano is the best bet. He just watches you for a while. His eye practically burn holes through you. When you hand him his drink, he smirks at you.

“I guess you know how to read people well.” he pats the bar stool beside him, “Come sit and tell me about this place. Though I’m much more interested in you.”

“I am working, you know.” you tease again, still coming around the counter to sit beside him.

“Didn’t you just tell me that it’s never really busy here?” he raises his eyebrow at you.

You sigh and start telling him about the village. Being born and raised here, you were raised to know everything about this place. You tell him what your grandparents told you about growing up. A whole lot of folklore and culture that not many people know about. He’s not paying attention much; you know that. His eyes have been scanning all over you since you sat down. Even when he sips on his coffee, he’s still fixated on you. Honestly, you would be doing the same if you didn’t get randomly lost in a rant about one of the folklore stories that doesn’t make sense to you to this day.

“So, did you remember any of that?” you ask, knowing he didn’t remember a thing.

“Honestly, much rather learn about you.”

“What about me?” you ask.

You lean forward, putting your elbows against the counter, and rest your head against your interlocked hands. You know exactly where this is leading, and you won’t stop it. You haven’t had the chance to hook up with anyone nearly as attractive as the man in front of you. It’s not often you see any new faces around here. Even when you go to the city, you don’t often get to have a hookup.

“You own this place?” “Yeah, it’s a family-owned business, but my parents retired.” you explain, “Are we going to continue with these mundane conversations, or are we going to skip right to the fun part?”

“Damn, right to the point.”

“You aren’t subtle, Jaehyun.” you chuckle.

His phone buzzes, and he checks it almost immediately. You can see him replying to a text. He writes back a reply as quickly as humanly possible before looking back at you. A smirk paints itself across his lips.

“Well,” he starts, “if you’re down, my housemates are all at the beach right now. We’ll be completely undisturbed.”

“How can you be sure they won’t come busting in while we’re at it?”

“They won’t.” he says definitively.

“So reassuring.” you tease, “I guess it couldn’t hurt to close early today. Give me ten minutes.”

He nods, and you go about your business shutting down everything you need to. Understandably, your mind was in other places, so you’re running on autopilot as you clean. His eyes follow you around the small cafe. The heat of his stare only serves to make you feel more ready to leave. You toss your apron on the hook next to the door to the storage room and then grab your bag. Jaehyun’s waiting by the door when you finally return to his side. He’s just as excited as you are despite him trying to seem calm and collected on the surface.

“Shall we be off?” he asks, pushing the door open for you.

“We shall.” you smirk.

“Oh fuck,” he groans.

You drop to your knees when he gets you into the room he’s staying in. You don’t waste a moment pulling his shorts down and getting his cock in your mouth. Jaehyun has a handful of your hair. He’s not holding it tight enough to pull it but just enough to let you know he’s in charge here. You look up at him with doe eyes as you place gentle kisses along his length. Once in a while, you lick gently; he shutters slightly when you do so and tightens his grip on your hair momentarily.

“You look like a slut on your knees for me. How about you get to work and suck me off properly.”

You whimper at his degrading words and loll your tongue out of your mouth. He smirks down at you; you take that as permission to begin. When your lips wrap his tip, you tease him still. You circle your tongue around him and hum slightly as you do so. While he is enjoying it, you aren’t listening to what he told you to do.

“Since you can’t seem to listen to simple instructions, I’ll take over. You’re already so cock drunk you can’t even suck my cock properly. So, sit there and be a pretty little whore for me.”

You think you could cum untouched from how he talks to you. Before you can protest, promise that you’ll do it properly, he fucks into your mouth. He sets a brutal, fast pace. Your eyes start tearing up as he continues to use your mouth. Your hands come up to his thighs to brace yourself. His thighs are firm too. Maybe he’ll let you ride them later.

“Are you gonna cry? You already look like a pretty little cockslut with how you’re letting me use your mouth. Crying’s only gonna make you look even more like one.”

You try to shake your head in disagreement, but how he uses you doesn’t allow for many replies. He pauses for a moment and then thrusts again with an even rougher pace. You moan around him and maintain eye contact for a few moments. When you close your eyes, he gives a particularly hard thrust. Making your eye open again, and a mewl escapes your vocal cords.

“If you want me to cum in your mouth like the cumdump you are, you will keep your eyes on me. Understood?”

You attempt to nod and watch how his face contorts in pleasure as he continues to fuck your mouth. You feel so used in the best way possible. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your shorts at this point, but you can’t be bothered to let him know that at this moment. His pace somehow grows rougher, and you can tell he’s getting close. His grip on your hair tightens, and he fully buries himself in your throat. With a loud groan, he cums down your throat. It takes him a few moments to recuperate, but once he does, he gently pulls back and looks at you with dark eyes.

“Should we get you taken care of too? You’ve been rubbing your legs together, trying to get anything you can out of it for the better part of the time. Sluts like you just can’t take care of yourselves, can you?”

“Fuck me?” you ask with pleading eyes.

“Gladly.”

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Networks: @kwritersworld​ @k-vanity​ @neohub​

Tag List strikethrough = unable to tag: @meowniee​ @cryoculus​ @2nk-3554  @yumekowhore​ @hyunjaespresent-deobi​

Send an ask or comment on the masterlist to be added to the tag list!!