#Stair and Hand Rail Detailing

[takes1]

p.2 bokuto x inexperienced!reader

bokuto is so fun to write it's crazy. merry christmas eve 😋

warnings. nsfw themes, future nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / kuroo's little sister!reader / touchy!bokuto / flirty!bokuto / corruption kink!bokuto / virgin!reader / nerdy!reader / kuroo cockblocking / petnames / protective kuroo / praise kink!bokuto / brother's best friend trope / bokuto being a bad friend / bokuto crushing on you / 2.0k nsfw + future parts to follow, reply to be added to taglist

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my request box. part one here. part three here. part four here.

"Why are you out?"

You can't help but guffaw at Tetsurou's accusatory tone.

There was no evidence to condemn you for instigating the whole Bokuto situation, except for maybe the deliberate change in attire before you decided to leave your room. You had to put something more skimpy on than your usual house clothes.

You had no plan, no real intentions other than the overwhelming desire for his friend's attention. Pacing around your room for hours had gotten old.

It wasn't too much, but it didn't help you make a strong case to come down from your 'tower' to Tetsurou - who was guarding the bottom of the stairs like a dragon.

"It's 5? I'm feeding your cats? Like I do every day--," You never let him get in your way or push you around before, and today would not be the first.

His hand flew to the other side of the railing. Thanks to his freakish arm span, he was successful in taking up the whole staircase, and then some.

"Fat chance. They're fed. Go back to your room, square."

"Eat shit-- and- die-!" You struggled to muscle your way around him, but it was accomplished- the only problem was that he had you by one ankle. He sat, leaned into the top of the stairs with his bodyweight.

You couldn't overcome a move like that, so you sat down too when he started to crawl, leading with only one arm and drag you back up the stairs. You were trying to use your weight to balance it out like he was, but he was older, stronger, bigger, and meaner, so you were slowly getting dragged up.

The whole ordeal was loud, thunderous because of the hollow floor beneath the even louder, creaky hardwood staircase.

Your head closest to the base railing, you made eye contact with some of his friends on the first floor, watching in giggly fascination at the struggle-, you sneered, rolling your eyes. You were getting so tired of his theatric bullshit making a clown out of you.

"Hey! Kuroo! That's not a fair fight, cut it out!" Somebody, somebody gracious and considerate, shouted to your defense.

Finally, an ounce of kindness.

It made his grip soften just enough for you, with the help of the railing, to take your ankle back.

You sighed and used your hands to pull yourself back up. The two of you were pissed off and out of breath, staring each other down.

"Yo! You almost ready?" Bokuto called from the first floor.

The two of you turned away from one another to look at him. He only spared a small glance towards Tetsurou, coming back down past you, before settling into an obvious, slow scan of your body in that new outfit.

His long arm stretched up the handrail, fingers waving toward you.

"Heyy, Prettyyy," Was gentle, brushing past his perfect lips.

He behaved as if he wasn't in your house, as if you hadn't met a few hours ago, as if Tetsurou's proximity didn't bother him in the slightest.

That was all you wanted. You leaned into your side, weak under his handsome stare, practically melting against the railing. A dreamy smile gave way for an absent giggle to follow, "Hii..."

Bokuto looked so perfect in his athletic clothes. You looked to your brother and realized he had his knee pads on. There was a hustle and bustle about the first floor and you instantly pieced together that they were going to play a game somewhere.

"Watch it," Tetsurou slapped the back of his hand on Bokuto's chest.

He held a firm glare between them for a moment. Bokuto didn't return the intensity until Tetsurou turned to address you. Only then did his brows drop, his frown grew a little darker. His airheaded, empty eyes narrowed with ill intention.

"Go on, go back upstairs," Tetsurou shooed you away like one of his cats.

"What?!" Bokuto scoffed, his friendliness was back in a flash.

He grasped for a quick argument, "We need a score keeper, man!"

It was a glorious opportunity to jump at and defend. No matter how much Tetsurou argued, he couldn't change either of your minds. In the process, you got a few other Nekoma guys to agree with you, and suddenly he was the odd-one-out, unable to make any solid case to keep you stuck at home.

You scrambled up to your room, thanking god for this one in a million chance, to grab a few things. When you barreled out the door, about to fly down the stairs, you nearly trampled over the only tolerable cat of your brother's.

"Woahh, sweetie,"

You stopped to let your door open so she could wander inside while you were gone.

Bokuto eyed you carefully from the first floor, thumb mindlessly brushing over his bottom lip. The little top you opted for was fucking glorious when you leaned down to pet her. He knew he couldn't afford to be careless with you, like most other things. But something about you sabotaged his already poor ability to keep his excitement contained.

-

That's why he squeezed a heavy arm around your waist once you had all made it to the gym- at first, nothing but an enthusiastic, friendly gesture.

Then that cute little laugh, the purity in your eyes avoiding his sharp-toothed grin, got his mind racing again, thinking about all the ways he could make you blush both on and off this court.

"You gonna watch me wrack up all the points today, babe?" Just flew out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Akaashi raised his brow at both his confirmed suspicions and the cocky assertion.

It was natural that Bokuto was preoccupied performing for the only audience there. The attention whore couldn't get enough of your captivated reactions. The way you ogled at him and gasped at every impressive spike, block, receive fueled his ego so bad that he was getting into an annoyingly good groove.

Every time he did something he wanted to be worthy of praise, his eyes preyed off of you; validated with exactly the kind of reaction he wanted, needed to see.

Since there were so many players, they switched out almost as often as anyone on-court needed a break.

Bokuto stayed until he was drenched in sweat, ragged in breath, and too exhausted to shout anymore.

Usually, members of his actual team liked to switch him out more often than this game called for. But he was riding such a manic high from your feedback that he never crashed like normal.

It wasn't until Akaashi encouraged him to go talk to you on the sidelines did he accept the chance for a rest.

He sauntered to a stop so intimately close to you that it made you side-step away from him, sheepish, eyes firmly on the game.

You could tell he was tired in the way he held himself, hands on his powerful mid-thighs, back expanding and shrinking with uneven breaths. He would only stand upright to drink some water, just to let it spill down the corners of his mouth and onto his sopping shirt.

"(Y/n)! Point for us!"

A panicked flip of the score.

"Sorry!"

Maybe you hadn't been watching the game so well.

He stood up straight, finally rested enough with a big groan, "Aaagh-!"

You briefly caught Bokuto's eye when you looked up from his form-fitted shirt. Your heart nearly stopped. Arms crossed, chest filled with a big breath in, your worried eyes struggled to look straight forward.

His chuckling grew in volume at your mannerisms under a bitten lip.

"Don't worry so much, babygirl," Bokuto finally said something, hand rested right at the base of your neck as he leaned down to speak only to you, "I wantcha to watch me."

The lengthy bout of quiet between you may have given you the impression that he was deliberate in his words. But the reality was that nothing he said was very thoughtful. His petnames, his touches, his abundant and inappropriate honesty were all products of his failure to control himself.

Your head was swimming, overwhelmed at his touch and his words.

He was rubbing his thumb against the side of your neck, still bent to watch you closely. Of course, now you wouldn't look at him.

He noticed how, if he tried, he could probably wrap his hand all the way around your throat. His jaw worked, as his hardened gaze flickered from your chest to your lips.

The slam of a ball on the court spurred you to quickly move, turn the score again.

Bokuto straightened, clearing his throat, rubbing his face with intensity at your absence, "Shit."

He realized his team was getting behind when he actually looked at the score. Akaashi made eye contact with him from the court and motioned a switch-out.

In his reluctance to leave, the best idea he'd ever had crossed his mind and he couldn't help but verbalize it.

"How 'bout a good luck kiss?"

Your eyes widened at his suggestion. For a second, you weren't sure if he was making fun of you, so you looked more uncomfortable than anything. Half of your attention was on the game, the other was on him.

"No?" Bokuto looked downright depressed.

His massive shoulders stooped, his pouty eyes so pitiful it spurred you to comfort him.

"Well- waitwait, I- don't know," You were getting warm quickly, unable to tell him yes or no, "I--,"

"Just a peck?" He begged.

Time was up. You couldn't form a word, let alone an answer, under so much pressure.

"Airhead! Your setter wants you," Tetsurou called from the court.

That could've been a deliberate way to get him away from you, but Akaashi did legitimately need him. He trudged onto the court, looking less energized than when he left for a needed break earlier.

He played like it, too. It could have been argued that he was the very reason their slapped-together team ended up losing. His heart was not in it.

All the guys were satisfied and tired, so they called it there, ending on a low note for you, since your brother's team was automatically vilified in your mind.

Your presence was small, apologetic as you passed Bokuto the water he had abandoned.

He barely met your eyes. He was moody and feeling sorry for himself since he felt like a loser in a couple of different ways.

"Akaashi said I pressured you, earlier," Was so quiet that it surprised you. You had no idea he was capable of that volume.

He sighed through his nose, squinting around as he took a big gulp of water. It gave you the opportunity to look for the setter in question, grateful for the consideration, and that he had such a good friend in his life.

"So I'm- sorry," He struggled, eyes on you but not your face, "If I did."

You were holding yourself tight. Heat crawled up your neck and ears.

A small motion for him to come to you, presumably so you could whisper something in his ear. His brow raised, a cute, intrigued look across his face that made you want to swoon as he did so.

You controlled yourself for just long enough to press a gentle kiss against the corner of his mouth.

It felt foreign, like something you had to hold your breath for, being so close to another person. You were hoping you did it correctly as it shocked him upright.

His mouth hung open, his excitement enough to make you laugh under your hands.

"Dude!" He laughed with you, silly and so handsome because his grin fit his face just right, "Fuck yes!"

Bokuto couldn't help but to scoop you up off of your feet in a big bear hug and swing you in a circle, unable to control himself despite the fact that just about everyone left in the gym was watching. When Tetsurou observed this show of affection, he went to separate you.

Yet, in the process, he got picked up instead- and swung around in a similar fashion.

And to your surprise, it did help to shut him up. He couldn't quite remember what he was so concerned about, vision still spinning as he stumbled back, laughing.

"Akaashi! Come here, you're next!"

♕VIP♕

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reply to be added for future parts!

[miaountainmama]

capable

characters: jing yuan, fembodied!reader contains: pwp, shameless smut, gentle sex, lots of praise. he calls you beloved and bends you over his desk and also eats you out. also he's larger than you because he's like 6'3" so sorry if you're somehow his size. minors dni or i'll eat your bones

wc: 3829

a/n: FIRST HSR POST WOOOOO boothill is my man but i wrote this for my bf. he then told me jing yuan is talking to reader like a horse. everyone stone him

“The Cloud Knights are already stretched thin as they are, so I don’t think it would be wise to dispatch them for this.”

You stare unseeing at Yanqing as he reports before the stairs in front of the desk in the Seat of Divine Foresight. On a normal day, you were a gold star employee, the perfect picture of Jing Yuan’s assistant: attentive, well-mannered, and adept at many things. However, it’s impossible to focus on Yanqing from where you stand by the railing— impossible to focus on anything but the feeling of the General’s golden eyes resting upon your form. You feel yourself being picked apart by his gaze, and though you attempt to maintain a cool facade, leaning against one of the posts of the railing, you can feel your collar getting a little hot under the unwavering attention. You can feel his eyes traveling, alternating between your face and the plush of your thighs being squeezed by your shorts. It’s an exposing feeling… not that you mind.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, seems to have no problem paying attention to two things at once. He leans forward against his desk, his honeyed stare finally moving off of your body and back to the poor boy just doing his job. You try your best not to think about the way his hands flexed around the wooden surface, try your best not to think about how they’d feel holding you down instead. Your mouth slowly twists into a sly smirk at the idea as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I see. I suppose I will take care of this matter personally, as it seems my assistant looks a little… preoccupied at the moment. I am more than capable.”

Your eyes snap to his, losing their unfocused haze, and they narrow, a little embarrassed but not entirely displeased at being caught thinking about him. He’s already looking at you again, eyes half-lidded and glinting with mirth and unspoken hunger, and you match his expression.

“Oh… more than capable? Are we underestimating me now, General? I don’t take kindly to that, you know. Perhaps I’ll need you to show me just how… capable you can be,” you purr, wrapping your fingers around the railing and tilting your head forward to look at him through your lashes. His eyebrows raise minutely before he lets out a low rumble of a laugh from deep in his chest, looking pleased at the way you responded. He shifts forward as well, lips curling upwards, and he looks about ready to tease you right back before a voice cuts through the tension.

“Of course the General is capable. He’s the General, are you crazy?” Both of you look at Yanqing, completely oblivious to the mood in the room, and you resist the urge to sigh (and/or strangle him). Still, you take the interruption in stride. You can’t fault him for being just a boy.

“Seeing is believing, and I’m sure there’s a lot the General hasn’t shown me,” you say, not missing a beat. Yanqing looks about ready to interject again, ready to defend the General’s honor, but before he can, you hear the smooth lilt of Jing Yuan’s voice interrupt.

“It seems I haven’t been entirely open with my assistant. Yanqing, you’re free to go. I’ll work out the finer details with them. We’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need me here to-”

“Yes, Yanqing, I’m sure. You have the rest of the day to do as you wish. Please, leave us,” Jing Yuan says, eyes never leaving you, and Yanqing gives a short bow and a “yes, General” before following orders, softly shutting the door and leaving the two of you alone. The two of you don’t blink, staring into each other’s eyes as you hear his quick footsteps fading away.

The moment the echoes disappear, he’s on you.

He has one large hand on your thigh, the other pulling you close by the small of your back, and your eyes immediately flutter shut in triumph. Yes, this is what you’ve been thinking of, yearning for all day. Your hands are in his hair, tugging his face closer and capturing his lips in a heated kiss, thumb brushing against the mole on his cheekbone. He’s bent over, neck craning down to reach you, and he walks you back slowly to sit you on his desk. You barely notice the cool feeling of the wood against your thighs, too preoccupied with getting more, feeling more. You reach for one of the belts around his waist, wanting to waste no time, but are stopped by Jing Yuan grabbing your wrist.

“What’s the rush, beloved?” he asks in a low voice, the slightest hint of a laugh gracing his tone. He guides your hand back up to hold his face and hair again before tilting your chin up and to the side with a finger. 

Everything Jing Yuan does to you, he does slowly. Painfully slowly, at times. This was one of those times.

“General,” you whine as he goes for where your neck meets your jaw, pressing a long, lingering kiss there. Still, he remains unbothered, though he does lightly nip at the skin with his teeth.

“Jing Yuan. You know you can call me anything you like when we’re alone,” he corrects, soothing the new red mark with his tongue. Already, he’s leaving you breathless, and you nod, feeling the heat rushing through your body at the pleasurable sensation. It’s not enough, though, and you tell him as much, pulling him closer by the hips,

“Then, Jing Yuan,” you say. “Hurry up already.”

Another kiss to your neck, another gentle laugh. “I have a whole lifetime to do as I please with you. Besides, you haven't pleaded your case convincingly enough,” he says, though he does indulge you a little by unhooking the clasp around your collar. You whine again as he pushes the fabric to the side, now pressing his lips against the crook of your neck.

“Pleaded my case? What, do you want me to beg you?” you ask, hands threading through his long white hair and tugging lightly, and you feel his lips curl into a lazy grin at the thought.

“Now that doesn’t sound so bad,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze to your thigh. His other hand wanders, caressing the curve of your waist, sliding upwards until it reaches the cutout in your shirt above your breasts. He moves his face from your neck as he slips his hand under the fabric, returning to kiss your lips as he cups a breast and teases a nipple with a finger. Your entire body jolts forward at the touch, back arching, and you let out a small noise into Jing Yuan’s lips as he kisses you. Again, you can feel his mouth curve into a slight smile at the action.

You’re incredibly needy by this point, heart racing, and you swear you’re probably going to have a wet spot through your shorts if he keeps going at this rate. Your core is aching for sensation, for sweet release.

“Jing Yuan,” you pant, pulling away from his kiss slightly. His eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze with his own golden eyes before he closes them again and pulls you back in, seeming just as unhurried as ever. You pull back a second time, more insistently this time.

“Jing Yuan, please,” you say, and you see something flash in his expression as his eyes open to look at you again. He reaches up to touch your face, and you realize you’ve found a sensitive spot— and you’ll exploit it as much as possible.

“Please,” you repeat, lacing your voice with as much need as possible, making sure to look directly into his eyes. On the outer rim of your vision you can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows once, something sparking through his face a second time. Once you drop a hand down to trail along his chest, he’s done for.

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” he says, looking pleased, and he maneuvers you to stand with his hands. You follow his movements without complaint, though your face does burn as his fingers hook around the waistband of your shorts and pull down. He motions for you to sit back on the desk, so you step out of your shorts and do so, feeling the cool surface of the wood against your bare body. You swear you can feel your quickened pulse between your legs as he nudges them open and spreads them slightly, and you make a softly embarrassed noise as it displays how wet you are for him to see. However, his eyes sparkle with delight, and his right hand drops down to lightly touch you. When his finger pulls away from your core, it’s shiny from slick.

“Oh… now that’s a sight to see. Mind if I take a closer look?” he murmurs lowly, and you nod, not sure what he means but willing to let him do anything to you at this point. You blink in surprise as he drops to his knees in front of you, kneeling in between your legs, and you resist the urge to close them around his head in embarrassment as he comes face to face with your heat. He reaches out to touch again, gently spreading you open with his thumb, and your breath catches at the feeling. You say nothing, opting to let him do as he pleases, and he switches to tracing the lines of your folds with his middle finger. He’s slow, careful with it, and you feel incredibly lewd as his finger gets coated with your wetness. He traces his finger down again, and with one motion sends you reeling as he sticks it inside you to the knuckle.

He looks up at you from below, taking in your face as you watch him, your breath coming out in heavy pants as you feel your walls clenching and unclenching around his finger to adjust to the feeling. He gives you a moment of brief reprieve before he’s gently pumping it in and out, finding your clit with a thumb then leaning in to latch his lips around it. You let out a strangled moan at the feeling as he sucks on it, languidly stroking his tongue across the bud, your hands flying to his hair to steady yourself as he eats you out. It feels humiliatingly good, every slow drag of his tongue around your clit and every measured thrust of his finger sending you further into ecstasy. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand to muffle your sounds, but the moment you do so, Jing Yuan ceases in his actions, slowing to a stop and pulling away to look at you. 

“I don’t intend to hold anything back, so you shouldn’t either,” he says, coaxing you to lower your hand, and he hums in approval as you return it back to his hair. “Very good. Always so good for me.” 

He dives back in, sucking and swirling his tongue around, pumping his finger, and this time, you let your shaky moan of pleasure free. His hand tightens around your thigh when he hears it, going at you a little harder, and you respond in kind, tugging at the strands of his silky white hair. You’re so worked up that he’s getting you there embarrassingly fast— your walls begin to clench around his finger, and it doesn’t help when he slides a second one in, curled just right and hitting just the right places. His unhurried pace continues even as you suddenly jerk forward, a groan of his name leaving your lips as you release all over his fingers. Your head tilts back, mouth gasping and whimpering and making all sorts of wanton noises as your body twitches from the relentless stimulation. It’s not until your moans subdue somewhat that he pulls back, resting a cheek against your thigh and looking up at you with adoring eyes. You’re breathing heavily, eyes unfocused, though they twitch a bit when he removes his fingers from inside you. He wipes them on his pants, lightly caressing your inner thigh with the other hand. He presses a kiss to the skin there as you recover at least a little bit, though he doesn’t let you waste all the time he spent preparing you. After a few more seconds he’s smoothly climbing to his feet to tower over you again.

Jing Yuan grabs you by the hips, gently pulling you off the table. His grip is firm, and despite the slight weakness in your knees, he doesn’t let you fall.

“Careful, beloved. We can’t have you hurting yourself, now,” he says, still wearing that smug, lazy smile. You hum in acknowledgement, grabbing onto him to steady yourself, and he leans down to kiss you softly before turning you around so your back is to him. He pushes at the small of your back, carefully coaxing you to bend over at the waist over his desk and tracing down your spine as you fold over. You can feel his hands massage your hips for a brief moment before they’re gone, leaving you cold and wanting for his touch. You try your best to keep your eyes straight forward, though, looking out the window behind his desk as you hear the clink of his metal belt buckles. The belts are quickly tossed beside you on the desk, followed by the sound of fabric rustling, and your heart is pounding from anticipation as you hear him take a controlled, slow breath from behind. 

A warm hand returns to your hip, and you unconsciously lean into the touch.. “Are you ready, my love?” he asks, stepping closer, and you can feel the heat radiating from him— it makes you nearly salivate, imagining just what he’s going to do to you in a moment.

“Yeah. Please,” you reply, urging him on, and he chuckles lowly before you feel him slide his cockhead along the wetness between your legs. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the contact you’ve been waiting for for hours, hips bucking backwards.

“Easy, now,” he says, light laughter in his voice, though it sounds a little strained. Perhaps the need is getting to him too— it’s certainly getting to you, evident by the shallow, rushed breaths you’re taking. You don’t complain though as he coats himself in your slick, knowing it’ll help it feel better in the long run and knowing he’ll take his time no matter what you do. After he deems himself sufficiently lubricated, he holds himself steady, not quite inside you yet but prodding at your entrance. He holds still, just taking in the sight, the view of you at his complete mercy, and just when you’re about to turn around and tell him to hurry up he pushes forward, slowly, not wanting to hurt you. He’s always been large, but considering how much smaller you were than him, he feels he has to be extra careful.

Your breath hitches as he splits you open inch by inch, eyes fluttering half shut as you feel the stretch. A shaky moan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, his hands going to stroke your hips to soothe you.

“There we are. You’re doing well, beloved,” he says, voice smooth and soft, and you swear that him speaking just makes you feel that much better. He pulls back, leaving just the tip in, before lazily thrusting in again— it rips a heavy moan from deep in his chest, and, true to his word from earlier, he doesn’t hold anything back. As he sets a steady, slow pace, he’s not loud by any means, but he certainly doesn’t care to muffle his noises. His occasional groans and frequent words of praise make you clench around him, which just makes him groan even more. The room is filled with your noises, his noises, and the sound of slick skin against skin— and you get even louder when he reaches around you, swiping a finger against your wetness before beginning to gently rub at your clit. Your back arches further, head tilting back, as you let out the most debauched moan you ever have in your life. Jing Yuan chuckles from behind you.

“Does it feel good?” he teases, and your head lolls forward, a desperate whimper leaving your mouth from the feeling of him both inside and outside of you. 

“Yeah,” you whine. “So good.”

He hums in satisfaction, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder blade and upping his pace just a little bit. He’s certainly not going fast— it’s always been his style to carefully work you towards your climax, to enjoy the buildup rather than get you there immediately. Still, it sets pleasurable fire running through your veins, and your hands clench from where they’re holding onto the desk. Every drag of his cock inside you sends you closer to the edge, your body beginning to shake slightly. Your eyes are unseeing, too caught up in the feeling of in and out, in and out, circling around, rubbing, in and out. A warm feeling is beginning to stir in your gut, a tightness forming in your core, and you nearly salivate as you want more, need more. 

“Jing Yuan,” you whimper, wanting to convey as such but not having the capability to utter more than a few words at a time. “Jing Yuan,” you try again, and you hear the smile in his voice as he gently shushes you, thumb caressing your hip.

“It’s all right, my love, I understand. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and he begins to snap his hips deeper, still gentle but deeper. It rips a strangled moan from your throat, your eyelids fluttering, and that pleasured feeling grows tenfold. Your moans grow more frequent, more desperate, and you clench around him, trying your best to hold yourself back from cumming too fast. You’re breathing heavily, trying to control yourself, but then you feel him lean in over you again, murmuring close into your ear.

“You don’t have to hold back, beloved. Go ahead. I promise it’ll feel better,” he says, voice all warm and soft, and you take his words in stride— who are you to deny your General? A few more thrusts, a few more circles on your clit and you’re gone, neck snapping backwards as you let out a choked wail of pleasure, electricity flying through your entire body as your hands nearly leave imprints in the surface of the desk. Your vision blurs, likely due to the crystalline tears that have sprung to your eyes, and your back arches as your body seizes. Jing Yuan holds you steady, murmuring placating praises as your hips buck. He doesn’t stop his motions, fucking you through your high, and you swear your knees almost give out on you as the heat just doesn’t stop. Even once the ecstasy dulls somewhat, your moans subsiding by just a hair, pleasure remains, and you want him to keep going, keep going until you’re spent, until he’s spent, until the both of you collapse. You yourself are probably near the point of collapse at this point, legs like jelly, and, sensing this from where he’s half holding you up, Jing Yuan nudges one of your legs up so you’re half perched on his desk now.

“Careful, my love,” he says, still thrusting lazily into you, and you just whine back, now resting all your weight on the wood surface. He readjusts the hand that circles your clit to the new position, and the type of friction changes— all your nerves feel like they fry in response. Behind you, Jing Yuan’s breathing has deepened, though it remains steady and controlled. Only you know that it means he’s close— he only sounds this disciplined, this restrained when he’s trying not to cum. Occasionally, deep “mmmhh”s and “ah”s leave his lips, though they’re quiet, and Aeons, the thought of him letting go is so hot it makes your walls flutter and pulse around him. 

“Oh, beloved,” he groans at the feeling, hands tightening around your hips, and his thrusts are starting to get a bit sloppy, a little less rhythmic. The heat rises between the two of you, the air growing more frantic, and both of you are close, so close— you whimper his name, and his movements are getting shallower, a little more rapid. He leans down, pressing more of his body against yours, as if he’s suddenly desperate to feel you against him. One of his hands leaves your hip to brace himself against the desk, holding himself above you, and you can feel the feverish temperature radiating off his skin. His head lolls, a needy, strangled groan escaping his mouth, and that’s all it takes for the feeling to become unbearable again.

You come for the third time, and this time it’s the strongest it’s been— your noises reflect that. For a second you worry it sounds like you’re getting killed, but it feels so good you can’t even care. The noises are guttural, from deep in your chest, and as your hands tense you can feel Jing Yuan’s hand tense on your hip as well. 

“Ah, beloved,” he moans shamelessly into your ear, and then he’s gone too, delivering a thrust deep into you as you feel him spurt thick ropes of cum inside you. He doesn’t stop moving, still lazily grinding into you, both of you moaning, you whimpering as the pleasure plateaus and you become sensitive. Your hips jerk backwards, and he lets out a breathy, pleasure-coated laugh, following you and not letting up.

“Jing Yuan, too much, sensitive,” you gasp, and at this he finally slows, eventually coming to a stop still buried inside you. You’re panting, shaking slightly, and he hums in appreciation, straightening up with a groan and reaching forward to run a hand along the back of your shoulder. You both just stand there for a minute, breathing hard, before he sighs slightly in satisfaction and slowly pulls out, taking all his warmth with him. You make a disgruntled noise at the loss, though you know you can’t stay like this forever, and he gently rights you as well, tucking himself back into his pants. You turn to face him, sitting back on the desk while you recover, and watch as he leaves you to walk across the room, rummaging around for a second before returning with a glass of water.

“So, my dear assistant. Have I shown you how capable I can be, then?” he asks, that gleam in his eye returning, and you laugh, taking the glass from him and taking a big sip.

“Yeah. I dare say you have.”

[trivia-yandere]

survival

you apply to a dating-show in hopes of winning enough money so you and your sister can live comfortably. what you didn’t know that you would be competing to death for the heart of one man while those on the dark web watched.

word count: 12.569

warning: several character death, blood, dark web, yandere tendencies, kissing, voyeurism, manipulative tactics, cult-like behaviors, orgy (ft. jimin+taehyung+jungkook), oral sex (f), unprotected sex, fingering, public sex, nipple sucking, dirty talk, overstimulation, creampie, exhibitionism,

@sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @momnomnom @bangtans-momma @chimmy-licious @investedreader @chimmisbae @

valentine's day masterlist

“Let’s get something straight, ladies.”

Your eyes turn towards who is speaking. The woman is tall, her skin almond and seemingly shining beneath the golden lights of the mansion. Her hair is neatly slicked into a bun, not an out of place hair in sight. Her eyes are dark as they roam around the room at each one of the contestants. She raises a manicured hand, crimson nails going around to point at each of you - six women in total.

“This is a competition.” the woman says, lowering her hand. “You all are not friends.”

You don’t respond, opting to listen instead as the other women chatter amongst themselves. One thing for certain, you didn’t have to be told at all.

“For the past week, you along with hundreds of other women had fought diligently to be where you are standing now. This is your final challenge. Look to your left and your right, as you are now competing against your direct rivals.”

You glance around, the mansion surely was luxurious. It has the highest ceilings you’ve ever seen; not as if you’ve seen many. It’s bright with shining lights, a sparkling chandelier high on the ceiling that caught your attention upon having entered. The floors are marble and appear so clean that you could even see your reflection on it. 

“You each have rooms located up the staircase.” the woman waves her hand to the large staircase, its carpets are dark and looks as if it wouldn’t squeak beneath your feet like the stairs you’ve grown accustomed to. “Your names are located on the door. Here, you will change into what you see is fitting for today's challenges.”

The woman begins to stroll up the stairs, her heels not being a problem in the slightest as you six begin to follow her. 

The railings are a mahogany color and as you walk further up, you notice the walls are painted with a mural of a landscape. It appears to be a forest going through different stages of seasons, winter being the first and spanning all the way through spring, summer and fall. Your eyes marvel at the sight - how detailed the mural was and how long it must’ve taken to complete.

“I can’t believe we’re in such an amazing house.”

Your attention is caught when one girl speaks. You’re now at the top of the stairs and make your way towards the bedroom, your eyes skinning over the names until you see where yours is. The door is tall and has the same mahogany color as the stair railings. There’s carnings on the wooden door displaying an array of flowers. The handle is cold and shiny and it clicks as you open it.

The room is large - the largest room you’ve even encountered, even larger than your living room in your apartment.

As you enter, the lights turn on automatically, the same high ceilings as the rest of the mansion with a diamond chandelier right in the middle of the room, as well. Below it, a large queen sized bed that’s elevated sits, an array of pillows displayed neatly on it. 

The floors are the same marble as before, only this time there’s a white, fluffy rug by the bed.

You release a sigh, kicking off your shoes to then go towards the bed. You plop down onto it and it slightly bounces back. You have never been on a bed that was this comfortable before and it’s as if it embraces you entirely, your eyes already becoming heavy.

There’s a loud ringing nose that catches you by surprise and you spring up from the bed. Your heart is pounding and your head whips around to find where the ringing is coming from - it’s loud, almost as if it’s a speaker, but you cannot find from where.

“Welcome,”

The voice speaks and you’re now positive that it is a speaker - maybe on the walls or ceilings.

Your eyes cannot find anything.

“Anjali, Chan-Mi, Y/N,” your ears perk when the speaker - a man - says your name. “Zarish, Luisa, Siohban.”

You suppose these are the girls you will be competing against. You swallow the lump in your throat as the speaker continues to speak.

“I suppose you all know what you six are getting into being a part of this?”

“A dating show…?” your sister murmurs, her eyes cautiously watching you. “...out of everything? A dating show?”

“I’m not expecting anyone to understand.” you suppress a laugh. You tap your fingers against your thigh as you sit besides her on the small couch in your living area.

“You’re trying to find love in this economy?”

“Realistically? No.” you shrug your shoulders. You and she were watching something she had put on Youtube when you had decided to tell her your plans.  “But I read the terms and condition and the contract so-”

“You’re serious? About going on a dating show?”

Your sister doesn’t look amused in the slightest and honestly, you didn’t blame her. You and she would laugh at how ridiculous the girls looked pinning after one man and often fighting for his heart just for him to not choose any of them - and now you were going to be doing the same. 

“For love? No. I don’t even expect to be chosen.” you admit, turning towards her to give her a soft smile. “But, we do get paid for being on there. Exposure, too. It’s a start and whatever money we need I will surely take.”

Your sister sighs, nodding slightly. “How long will you be gone?”

“A week max. It’s live, apparently.” 

You were older than your sister by nearly five years, having taken her in a year after you left home yourself. While your sister remained in High School, you had to be the one to work for everything you and she both needed - two jobs weren’t ideal for you, but you made it work.

As time went on, bills increased, as did rent and the overall cost of living. Your sister needed necessities and as did you and your two job income wasn’t enough.

“How did you find out about this?”

“Job interview.” you snort, as if two jobs weren’t enough, you were thinking about picking up a third - just for a few hours you had free on your off days. “Said I…would fit the part. Whatever that means.”

“Would I be able to watch it live? What type of dating show is only a week?” your sister is asking all of the correct questions that you should - but you are only there for the money; you are sure everyone else is, as well. 

“I’m not even sure where it would be streaming. I’ll have to ask. I’m sure it’s very…variety show like? Maybe even a game show?” you shrug your shoulders, pondering if there would be an elimination every day of the week; how anyone would find love that way is beyond you. “Us competing for a man possibly none of us are attracted to.” you joke. “Having us do odd challenges to win his heart.”

“I bet he’s ugly and old.” you sister cringes. “What if you have to kiss him?”

You cackle, head leaning back to laugh. “For a few thousands, it’s what I have to do. Life isn’t cheap.” In the back of your head, you understand that this isn’t ideal - that your sister was right and this could be an older guy who’s not the most attractive looking man; as no one knows what he looks like. But if this is what you had to do then so be it.

You were taking a week off of work for this - luckily, paid time off has come through for both jobs. “Even if I’m not the winner, honestly, let’s hope for that. I’ll be back.” you promise her.

Your sister nods her head slightly, tilting her head to the side to look at you. 

You understood what you were getting into and doing this for - and you are positive your motive is similar to the other five women. None of which know who the man is, his beliefs, likes or dislikes - anything. You were all completely in it for the money; the promise of a lavish lifestyle. 

In the beginning, you told yourself that you didn’t need to win, you think, you just had to be here long enough to get any form of prize.

However, now, you’re certain that this was now or never. You came this far and even managed to be picked by the man himself along with the other five women; all rivals of yours.

“That being said, the competition starts immediately. I’m looking for a wife and I don’t have much time to find her.”

You want to scoff at how desperate the man sounds. You try to put a face to the voice, but are unable to. He sounds young, no older than 30, but with the way technology is now, you can never be certain. 

“The game starts now, you all.” the voice says. “If I cannot find a wife in you five, then that means I’ll have to do this all over again - and I’ll rather not.”

There’s a shiver that runs down your spine at his words and you’re unsure as to why. You take a deep breath.

“I need a wife that knows how to cook exactly what I want.” Your feet begin to move with impatience. “This mansion holds several kitchens. In about an hour, I expect you all to be downstairs and in your designated kitchen doing just that. I’m not a picky man,” there’s heartfelt laughter from him. “and I cannot wait to try what you all cook for me.” 

The room is quiet again, indicating that the man was done speaking. 

You swallow. You had an hour to get ready and to you, that was more than enough. You worked with as little as five minutes before, an hour was nothing to you.

You start by going to the closet - a large walk in one - that holds clothing that you were told would be in there. You would be cooking, so there isn’t a point to overdress, however, you understood that you can’t look as if you’re at home. Your usual oversized t-shirt and sweats wouldn’t be acceptable. 

You also weren’t going to force yourself into a tight dress to appeal to the eye of the man you’re supposed to be cooking for. It didn't make sense.

The next 30 minutes consisted of you showering and getting ready yourself. You weren’t positive if this was when the man would make his appearance to you all, and you had to be prepared in case he had. 

You stood out amongst the other five women who were all dressed to impress and you would only be a hater to say that they didn’t look nice. Even better than you.

You swallow, casting your eyes ahead of you to look at the women from early; the host.

“An hour to prepare a meal.” the woman states, her hands behind her back as she strolls towards you six. “In your designated kitchen, there would be food already laid out for you. What you do with it is all up to you. Follow me.”

The woman begins to stroll out of the large foyer and down into a hallway where each of you follow her. The mansion is huge indeed, having separate kitchens for each girl to go into. Yours was the third, and immediately you found yourself going to work. 

The kitchen is huge - of course - and has a chandelier right above you hanging from a tall ceiling. The floors are hardwood and pristine and don't creek beneath your feet. On the kitchen island located in the middle of the large kitchen, lay an apron that you proceed to tie around your body. 

You cooked for you and your sister whenever you had the chance to. It was enjoyable at times as you loved cooking for her. Cooking now, however, was a necessity to win. You needed to be the best, and if not, you needed to be damn close to it.

An hour flew past as though it was only five minutes. Your hair, once laid perfectly into a tidy bun, was sweated out a bit. You huffed at your reflection into the knife you were holding upon seeing yourself. 

“Time’s up. Bring your plates of food back to the foyer.” says a voice over the speakers, this time not the man, but the host.

You drop your knife into the sink and turn towards the island where your plate of food sat. You were given steak and did what you thought you could with it, stewing it along with vegetables. You cooked a simple white rice atop of lettuce - you’ve done what you thought you could with what little you had.

“Ladies.” the host says, nodding to you all. “Place your plates right here onto the table.” she says, motioning to the large, glass table behind her. There’s cards that sit about six inches from one another that have each of your names labeled onto them.

“Now, Kim Seokjin-ssi will test them all.” she proceeds to say as each of you gather back into a line.

Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes begin to widen as a man, tall and slender, begins to strut from up the staircase to where you all stood. Your eyes are fixed onto him - as are the other women. Your mouth parts a bit as he bows before all of you, a mop of dark hair bouncing.

“Hello to you all.” the man says, a familiar voice dancing through your ears. The same exact voice of earlier.

Kim Seokjin was not an older man, no. He was young; and maybe you should’ve guessed by his voice. However, he didn’t look a day over 25. His skin was clear of any blemishes and porcelain similar to a doll. His eyes are beady as he looks between the six of you. His lips, plump and pink, form a low smile.

Jin is sporting a solid, black dress shirt that he proceeds to cuff toward his elbows. His dress pants are baggy and brown, however not a wrinkle in sight. You ponder just how much his outfit is, as you were told that wealth such as him doesn’t talk, but whispers.

“Now, let’s see.” Jin says, clapping his hands as he turns away.

Jin eyes the array of food on the table, humming to himself softly. 

It takes 10 minutes for Jin to try it all. Ten long minutes of you all waiting in silence as he eats, nodding his head a few times and then whispering to the host, who would either snicker or respond.

“Siobhan.” Jin speaks, his back not turning to face either of you. The host does, stepping away from Jin. “Come closer, please.”

Siobhan does, her long locks bouncing onto her shoulders as she comes face to face with Jin. He’s a beauty of a man and instantly, your heart jolts. Jealousy, sure, yet you weren’t here for true love. This wasn’t the bachelor. You were here for money and that only.

“Chan-Mi…Luisa…you two, as well.”

Your blood runs cold, your palms beginning to sweat. You’re unsure what Jin is doing - if you’re about to be eliminated or not. Your eyes glance at the other two women left, Zarish and Anjali. You suck in a breath, turning your eyes back to Jin. It would be humiliating to be sent home so early.

“Your food is…”

You swallow as the man slowly turns, his arms now behind his back. The smile on his lips he sported 10 minutes prior had disappeared.

“Lackluster.” Jin murmurs, and instantly his right arm jerks, a dagger held tight into the palm of his hand. He slices Siohban’s throat as quickly as yall all seen it, the woman gasping and clenching onto her neck.

There’s shrieks that erupt around the room as Siohban falls to her knees in a pool of her own blood. Your eyes widen, a hand going to clasp onto your own mouth and the sudden sight before you.

Without much warning, the knife is japped right into Chan-Mi’s stomach, her scream haunting you. You’re frightened where you stand, your eyes wide. 

Luisa is next, but she knows what to expect. She turns to run away, but trips with how terrified she is. She falls onto the ground before she has the chance to go anywhere and Jin lets a hand grab her long, wavy hair. He yanks it back, the dagger slicing right against her throat. Blood squirts out of it, splashing a few feet away from yours. You feel your stomach churn, the sudden need to vomit.

“Do calm down.” Jin says, throwing the knife onto the ground by Siobhan, who’s body appears lifeless. “This is a competition. I know you all aren’t here for love.” Jin scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “You’re here for money. I have a lot of it. However…” Jin looks between the remaining three of you.

You were the calmest, however, maybe you were just hiding it. There’s great fear in your eyes that has you startled into silence, only a single tear falling from your eyes. Zarish had fallen to her knees, pushed the farthest away from you and Anjali, who was trembling at the sight.

“...you’re going to have to show me what you’re willing to do for it.”

“I know you three need some time.”

You had proceeded to vomit into the toilet as soon as you entered your bedroom. You thanked the shared bathroom, as you’re unsure how much longer you could last. The heinous sight of murder flashed before your eyes, no matter how hard you attempted to squeeze them shut. 

Your heart pumps with fear. Just an hour ago you stood before three dead bodies - this was real. This wasn’t a dream, nor a prank. The screams of fear coming from you all were real.

Jin had gone on for the next 10 minutes explaining the rules - rules you thought were already given to you. Of course they weren’t. You had gotten yourself into this mess, biting more than you could even chew. There was no “out” of this. Once witnessing bloody murder, Jin had told you three the truth. That there were only two ways out of this twisted game of his. You either had to win and become his wife, or lose and be dead.

There was no leaving alive unless you were the sole winner.

This was a life or death situation now; you were truly fighting for your life.

“But I am in need of a wife as you know. You’ll need to do more than just cook.”

Jin’s voice is taunting you through the speakers. He speaks coolly, as if he hadn’t killed anyone. You ponder just how long he’s done this - and if there is any way out of this at all. Or was this just a sick game where he would eventually kill all of you and repeat the game again.

You proceed to flush the toilet, falling besides it as Jin continues to speak.

“I need a wife that knows how to clean, as well. In an hour, meet in the foyer and await your next challenge.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, body trembling on the cold tile floor. You aren’t sure if you could do this anymore. You’re terrified that you’d be the next to go; it was only three left and it hasn’t even been a day.

Jin’s impatient and he doesn’t wish to wait any longer than he needs. He wants someone now; tonight preferably.

Your eyes snap open, staring straight ahead.

You couldn't afford to die. You weren’t here for just yourself. You had a sister you needed to take care of. 

You took a shower in case it happens to be your last, at least you would know a bit or peace. You are the first to be in the foyer, followed by Zarish. She doesn’t look at you when she arrives, and you cannot blame her. Neither of you wish to be here. The atmosphere has changed from one of lighthearted competition to dreadful act of survival.

Anjali is the last to arrive and the girl's brown eyes are red and puffy from her crying. She’s trembling when she arrives and even though you sympathize with her, you cannot bring yourself to care far too much into it. You had to care about the life of your sister and that was the will you needed to survive this.

“Ladies,” the host claps as she struts into the foyer. “follow me.”

The host makes no attempts in waiting for you all, nor does she stop to acknowledge you three. She takes you down a long hallway until you three stopped behind three separate doors. She proceeds to turn back towards you. Her eyes trail between your faces before she stops at Anjali and scoffs.

“You won’t survive if you keep trembling like that.” she says snarkily. “Behind these doors is your next challenge. As you know…” she stops dramatically to look between you once more. “...Kim Seokjin isn’t just any man. His line of work is different from normal men. That being said.”

The doors are automatic and they open before the host could finish her sentence. 

The sight behind the doors is traumatic. You instantly gag, clenching a hand to your mouth.

Behind your door lies the dead body of Chan-Mi. The room is covered in blood. It’s a single room, all white. White walls and tiled floors that’s stained crimson.

“Jin would like you three to clean the room and get rid of the body.”

Anjali instantly shrieks, her back hitting the wall behind you all. She shakes her head, her hands tugging her hair.

“Please, I-I-”

“You have an hour.” the host interrupts. “Do whatever you think you need to do.”

Inside the room, there’s a timer high onto the wall and close to the ceiling. It ticks down exactly one hour - a short time to clean a murder scene. 

Your mind tries to think back to the true crime shoes you’d watch with your sister on how you could possibly get rid of a body; you never thought you would be in this situation.

You spring into action, making your way down the hall.

“W-Where are you going?” Anjali calls for you, not moving from the wall. 

You don’t answer. You were told to do anything necessary to clean this mess up. For the first time you notice it - the cameras. It’s high and it follows you as you walk. You ponder just how many people are watching you here being forced to commit these criminal acts, now fully engrossed in it. 

You open doors until you find one with cleaning supplies. You take a deep breath, grabbing whatever your arms could hold. 

You work on autopilot, your mind completely blank as you work. You wrapped Chan-Mi’s body in one too many trash bags, refusing to look into her face. Her eyes were open but lifeless like the rest of her.

Dragging a body was harder than the movies made it, placing it right outside of the room and making your way back inside to clean it. You scrub onto your hands and knees, mind remaining blank as you focus on removing the crimson from your sight. 45 minutes, 30 minutes, 20 minutes.

Your heart is pumping outside your chest and your breath heaves as you drag the body down the hallway to the front door. You hadn't had any time to explore the mansion and today wasn’t going to be the day. You had 15 minutes until the challenge was done and you were told to get rid of the body by any means necessary. 

The mansion is quiet and you’re positive Jin, the host and who knows how many other people are watching you now. You open the main doors of the mansion, poking your head out. It’s evening now, the sky has different shades of purple hues. 

You drag Chan-Mi outside, down the stone stairs and towards the side of the house. You’re unsure how long you walked with the body until your legs gave out and you collapsed.

You breathe heavily, your mind regaining and you scream out. It echoes off of the trees, the eerily silence of the mansion adding more terror to your situation.

Focus - you tell yourself.

Remember what you’re doing this for.

Your knees tremble as you stand, fixing your hair. A few strands had fallen from your bun as you were cleaning vigorously. Your eyes scan the area, pondering where you were going to put this body.

Your eyes drag towards a pond and even if your moral compass was eating at you, you understand that this was life or death - for you and your sister.

“A better life…” you murmur to yourself, reaching the pond. “...for me. For us.”

You threw Chan-Mi’s body into the pond. It splashes loudly and all you can think is you hope you’re far enough for anyone to notice far too quickly. It isn’t a lake with running water, so the body would move anywhere. However, the the pond is surrounded by rocks and if far enough, the untrained eye would never notice-

“Are you okay?”

Your body stiffens at the words coming from behind you.

Slowly, you turn, eyes catching onto a man a few feet away. He’s strolling towards you. He’s tall and his cheeks are dimpled.

“I-I…” you’re unable to speak. You immediately get up from your knees and begin to walk towards the man. “...I was just going for a walk.” you speak, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I ended up falling and…made a mess of myself.”

The man reaches you and looks at your appearance. He nods his head with a chuckle. “I can see that. I have never seen you around here.”

“You live around here?” you ask. Where did this man come from and just how did he know you were here? Your palms were already sweaty and you didn’t have time to stay and chat. You had about five minutes until you had to be back at the mansion.

“I do. I hike in the woods all the time.” the man nods his head. “I’m Namjoon.” he raises a hand for you to grab.

You do hesitantly, nodding your head. “Y/N.” you murmur. “I have to get back. It’s nice to meet you, Namjoon.” you say. “Enjoy your hike. I hope you aren’t as clumsy as me.” you attempt to joke, making your way around the man before he can say anything else.

You enter the home quickly, slamming the door behind you. Jin is behind it, almost as if he’s waiting for you.

You stop in your tracks, unable to form words.

“You’re right on time.” Jin says. “The first to arrive.”

You’re exhausted, falling to your knees. You hang your head in defeat.

“I’ve watched you, Y/N.”

Your ears perk at Jin’s words. You hear footsteps coming closer to you.

“We all have.”

“What…how many people?”

“Thousands.” Jin chuckles. “Don’t worry. It’s only the dark web.”

Your blood runs cold once more. You don’t want to ask anymore questions, far too afraid to know anymore.

“You’re becoming a favorite, Y/N.” Jin kneels down to face you. He pats your head as if you’re a puppy, encouraging you to look at him. “The way you got rid of the body and managed to get away from Joon.”

“Joon…” you murmur, the dimpled-cheeked man flashing through your mind. “...you know Namjoon….?”

Of course Jin did. There wasn’t any home for miles. How else would you be caught in such a situation ? Maybe that was a part of their plan, to try and get you to confess what was truly going on in hopes that you would look for a way out.

You clench your eyes shut and release a shaky sob.

“You won this round, Y/N. Come,” Jin offers out his hand for you to take. “Let's get you ready for the final round. I hope you didn’t like Anjali as much.” Jin begins to laugh heartily. “You won’t be seeing her for the final challenge.”

You weren’t told by Jin how long you had until the final round. You were in the shower once more, this time sitting on the shower floor and allowing the water to run down your body. Your eyes are closed, and as much as you tried, you cannot get your mind to go blank. 

It was a lot for one person to handle in just one single day.

You wished you understood more about Jin and the dark web. You’ve heard about the dark web before and the last thing you ever desired was to be a part of it. It brought chills up your spine to just think about how many eyes are on you and what those eyes are involved in themselves.

You finally got out of the shower once the water began to run cold. You wrap a towel around you, your wet feet strolling towards the large, round mirror inside of the bathroom. Your eyes watch yourself, however not truly seeing yourself. It’s as though you’re witnessing a shell of yourself.

You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. You want to laugh bitterly at the unfortunate circumstances that you are dealt with  - and just how much of a terrible person you were becoming because of them. Was this real life or a nefarious dream you fell into due to slumber?

There’s a knock that sounds at your bathroom door that causes you to flinch, startled. 

You take a few moments to answer, instead choosing to listen quietly, unsure who would be behind the door at such a vulnerable moment you were in now. 

“It’s me.”

Jin.

You feel goosebumps liter your arms at his voice. Still, your mind cannot embrace the fact that Kim Seokjin, someone so beautiful as him, is a part of this. Involved with not just this twisted game of survival, but the dark web, as well; which is an iceberg itself.

Your hand wraps around the cold doorknob and you slowly twist it open, cracking it open so you can peek out at the man. He offers a curt grin, his head slightly tilting. 

“It’s dawning on you, isn’t it?” Jin questions vaguely. “That this is real life and not some sort of nightmare?”

Your heart jolts and you swallow your words. It’s as if he took the thoughts right out of your mind.

“It’s far too late in wanting to drop out of the competition.” Jin murmurs. “I’m sure you know why.”

You wouldn’t be able to leave here alive - you’re well aware.

Slowly, you nod your head, slightly opening the door a little wider.

“I came to see how you were doing.” Jin takes a few steps back and it’s then you realize that he changed from his attire earlier, to a black suit. “This…can weigh heavy on people such as you.”

“What do you mean people such as me?” you question low. You proceed to open the door fully, your towel tightly around your frame.

Jin begins to stroll away from you and proceeds to take a seat onto your bed. A shame you haven’t truly had the time to lay in it, but he doesn’t wish to extend the games. For months, he had women come in and out - all failing. He wants this game to end tonight, and there’s only two opponents left. He surely hopes either you or Zarish would be the one to end his suffering in having to do this - and he can go home with a wife.

“It’s obvious you aren’t…part of this lifestyle.” Jin looks up at you now, brown eyes giving your undivided attention. “You and Zarish aren’t doing this for love, either.”

“Are you?” you’re bold enough to ask, your right hand holding the top of your towel tightly. “You do this…often?”

Jin snickers. “Unfortunately,” he nods. “no one has won as of yet. This is why it appears the challenges are a bit fast paced.”

You sit in the doorway of the bathroom awkwardly as you await for him to continue speaking.

“Why are you doing this?” Jin questions. “What made you want to come here?”

“I didn’t think I would have to hide a body.” you say truthfully, a bit of sadness in your voice. “I didn’t think I would be fighting for survival, either.”

“I do apologize.” Jin says, yet you don’t hear any sincerity in his words. “It wasn’t my idea of presenting the game as a bachelor type.”

You nod your head. Of course there were others involved, deeper than just Jin and Namjoon.

“What are you fighting for, Y/N?” Jin proceeds to dig deeper. “What do you have to live for?”

Jin’s eyes are intense as he awaits an answer from you. It causes you to look away, goosebumps growing even harder onto your skin. You nearly forgot that you were naked beneath this towel and semi-wet. 

“I have a sister.” you say truthfully. There isn’t a point of lying now. This could also be a test to see if you were going to be truthful or not. If Jin had ties to the dark web, who knows what else he’s apart. “And I needed money…”

“I see.” Jin hums. “Everyone has their reasonings.”

“Can I ask yours?”

Jin is intrigued. Zarish wasn’t much of a speaker, yet he couldn’t blame her. Her demeanor is colder than it once was when she arrived, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. There were two contestants and a final round.

“You…there has to be a reason why you’re doing all of this, right?” you lean against the door frame. “You can’t have a hard time finding a wife.”

Jin’s lips twitch upward.

“Observant.” Jin nods. “I can get a wife anywhere. But…” Jin spreads his legs a bit. “Where’s the fun in that?”

There’s a sinister way in which Seokjin laughs.

“Sure, you didn’t come here for love. That doesn’t mean that you and I couldn’t grow to love one another, right?”

The question strikes you as odd, seeing as this was still a competition.

“If you win, of course.” Jin adds, as if reading your thoughts yet again. “You’re already a fan favorite, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

You exhale.

“Do you want it?”

Your attention is brought back to Jin.

“Do you want a better life?” Jin continues. “Do you want it enough to fight for it? There's only one more round left, Y/N.” Jin prods on, his eyes roaming your face for any emotion. “Show me you want to survive, Y/N.”

You find yourself in front of Jin now, who awaits for you to do something. Anything.

You wanted nothing more than to survive this - not for just your sake, but for your sister. Her life depended on yours, and maybe that was all the will you needed to survive this. 

“I do want this.” you murmur, unsure of what you’re now doing kneeling before him as he sits onto your bed. Your right cheek sit lightly against his knee. 

“I know.” Jin answers. “I can see it in your eyes. It’s easier to do the things you do if you tell yourself it’s for someone else.”

Maybe being an accomplice to a murder was easier if you told yourself you were doing this for your sister.

You hum.

“Get dressed.” Jin says, a soft hand laying on your left cheek. “The final round will be starting soon. Make yourself presentable.”

You remove your cheek from his knee just as Jin stands to his feet. He looks down upon your vulnerable figure but doesn’t say another word as he saunters out of the room. You watch his figure leave sullenly, a coldness running through you as you felt alone, but knew that you weren’t truly.

“This is crazy, don’t you think?” you murmur to Zarish. “That only one of us can survive this?”

Zarish offers a glance, the soft music playing in the background of the large ballroom. All surrounded by people who are associated with Kim Seokjin himself.

“We…can both survive this.” you say to her, taking a sip of your glass of champagne. You offer a few smiles to guests. “We can both escape before anyone notices us.”

After Jin had left your room, you continued to sit onto the ground by the large bed for what felt like hours until you finally got to your feet to get ready for the next challenge. You weren’t sure what presentable was, but you only had what was in the large closet to choose from. All dresses ranging from long to short.

You grabbed a short dress, stopping at your knees. You opted for this incase you were getting into something that involved you moving a body again - or running for your life. You only had heels to choose from, but you chose a pair that would be easy to get out of if needed be. 

You decided to fix your hair to the same bun as before, this time neater and allow a few strands of hair to be released, twirling your finger around it a few times to allow it to curl.

There’s another knock that sounds, this time on your bedroom door. You stand a bit straighter before strolling to the door and opening it.

“It’s time.” the host says, dressed differently. A wine colored floor dress that hugs her curves. On the right side is a slit that rides all the way up to her mid thigh. “You have five minutes to meet everyone downstairs in the main hall.”

“E-Everyone?” you speak up, eyebrows knitting.

“Yes.” the host nods. “The final round is to impress not only Kim Seokjin, but those who associates with. You’re attempting to be a wife, correct?”

You nod, a bit dumbfounded. 

“Okay then. Here is your moment.” the host turns to walk away. “Don’t let these people see you be frightened. They’ll eat you up and spit you out if so.”

The host’s footsteps get quieter as she descends down the carpeted hallway. You take a deep breath as you replay her advice - or warning - in your head. You take another deep breath before following her down the hallway.

You can hear faint music along with chattering voices. You suppose this was the final challenge, and maybe the most nerve wracking one of it all. You barely knew Seokjin, so being surrounded by people such as him was just as terrifying. 

You decide to follow the music down to the far right of the foyer and down a dim-lit hallway until you reach the large ballroom. It’s surrounded with people - all wearing masquerade-like masks. You felt anxious being surrounded by them, unsure how to truly handle it all.

The ballroom is designed just as elegant and expensive as the rest of the mansion. Its lights are lit dim just as the hallway, but the candles add a bit more flickering light to it all; a sinister type of feeling, however. There’s round tables with white tables clothed all throughout the ballroom, with four chairs each. Only a few people were seated as they chatted amongst each other, while the rest were standing.

There’s flowers, all white, on each table. As well as hanging from the ceiling besides large chandeliers that aren’t shining to their full potential.

“Y/N.”

Your head turns to the sound of your name. A masked figure stands tall besides you, his face fully covered by the gold mask. The candles surrounding the room dance off of his mask.

“I-I…”

The man raises a hand to his mask and lifts it, and instantly you recognize the man just by half of his face, dimples poking out. It’s Namjoon, and he speaks when he takes the mask off fully. 

“It’s nice to see you again.”

“You, as well.” you say shyly, glancing around the room. “You…are a part of this?”

Namjoon chuckles with a quick shoulder shrug. “Sure,” he responds. “You managed to be quite a fan favorite.” he says to change the subject.

You scoff to yourself. “Of the dark web?” you question. “I’m not sure how to handle that.”

“No one ever truly does.” Namjoon answers. “You have my vote.”

“Vote?” you ask, just as Namjoon puts his mask back over his face. “All of these people have to vote…?”

Namjoon nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you.” you murmur.

Namjoon’s vote is just one of hundreds.

“Follow me.” you tell Zarish, your eyes roaming around the large room to find no one you recognized. You find that those with gold masks were the ones who held higher importance. “Let’s get out of here while everyone is distracted.”

You grabbed Zarish’s hand in your own and tugged her along. You managed to get out of the large ballroom and into the quiet hallway. Your heels click along the marble floor, as does hers. 

“Where are we going?” Zarish  sputtered, her head turning back to the party for a moment before looking ahead at you.

The plan had hit you an hour in. You had met more people, all who spoke to you behind their respected masks. You were polite to them, even engaging in light conversations before you were onto the next; none of them being Jin. You suppose he was watching you from the shadows, awaiting for when the votes would be announced.

Zarish was a beautiful girl, tall with long black hair that she had tucked in a low ponytail. Her dress is floor length and lavender-colored. 

You go past the foyer to down the other side of the hall. It’s familiar to you both, where you had gone just hours before to clean the dead bodies of former contestants.

You drop Zarish’s hands when you reach one of the large kitchens. You turn to her. “Grab a weapon.” 

“A weapon?” Zarish whispers with wide eyes. “W-Why-”

“How long do you think it’ll be until they realize we’re both gone?” you say, your heels clanking against the tiled floors of the kitchen as you search the drawers for a knife.

Zarish doesn’t say anything, but she’s visibly nervous. She goes to the other side of the large kitchen to find a weapon.

Your reflections glare in one of the large cutting knives. You grasp your hand around the handle and lift it up.

“Why are you here?” you ask Zarish as she opens one drawer. “For money?”

Zarish nods her head, her hands clenching the sides of the drawer.

“My father is sick.” she responds, releasing a soft sop. “If I would’ve known I was coming to this…”

You sympathize with her. You take a few steps closer to her until you’re behind her, your free hand on the short of her back.

“My sister,” you speak, taking a deep breath. “I came for her. To give us both a better life.”

Zarish nods slowly.

“I don’t think any of us knew…” you don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you clench your eyes shut. 

“I…I just want to get out of here.”

Zarish’s voice cracks when she speaks. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not now. She sniffles and turns around to face you. “Y/N, I-”

It takes all the will in you to jab the knife right into her stomach. It was nothing personal to her. You held no ill intent towards her, and if there was truly a way out of here, surely you and she would’ve managed.

Maybe in a perfect world there was. You and she ran off into the arms of safety - yet this was reality. There were cameras watching your every move.

Zarish doesn’t put up a fight. Possibly death was easier than fighting her way out of here. The saddened look in her eyes does reach yours, yet she doesn’t say anything in protest.

You remove the knife from her stomach, her hands going to the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. 

“I’m going to help your father.” you murmur, driving the knife repeatedly back into her stomach several times. Each time is met with a gasp from the woman. “So in a way, you being here isn’t completely a loss.”

You’re completely covered in blood by the time you’re done, Zarish’s lifeless body on the pristine floors. Her blood soaks into your dress. You drop the knife and it clunks loudly on impact.

You make your way out of the kitchen and down the familiar hall towards the foyer and back to the ballroom. It’s as if no one has truly noticed you and Zarish are gone. 

You stop at the doorway of the ballroom, the blood staining your hands. Your eyes search for Jin and you’re sure you found him. His mask is the only mask that stands out, a silver color. It appears as if he’s watching you from the eyeholes of the mask.

You walk towards him, your mind focusing on him and only him. The people appear to be quiet now as you walk past them, allowing you to stroll without a problem.

You stop just a few short feet away from Jin, panting heavily now.

“You told me,” you begin, your eyes never wavering. “that if i wanted to win…if I wanted a better life…” you swallow. “...I’d have to show you.”

Jin’s right hand reaches up towards the silver mask. Slowly, he lifts it from his face. His expression is an emotionless one, but it’s easier to speak with him now that you can see his eyes. 

“What did you do?” Jin questions, though he’s positive he has an idea.

“I killed her.” you respond. “She…” 

Your thoughts speak at you all at once. You tilt your head a bit. 

“She was going to run away.” you mumble. “She…told me to go with her. I did.” you admit half of the truth, because did it truly matter now? “...then I killed her. There isn’t a way out of here, right?” you ask Jin. “We would have both been dead. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to win.”

Jin’s dark eyes watch you from where he stands. Slowly, your sanity was dripping away and in such a short amount of time. 

Rosy plump lips grin towards you and that alone causes your heart to leap. 

“Come,” Jin announces, his hand waving you over. 

Widening your eyes, you do as you’re told. You round the large table and come besides Jin, behind him a few bodies you were not aware of, all dawning gold masks.

Jin goes into his pocket and grasps a small, square box. “Congratulations, Y/N.” Jin speaks, opening the box to reveal a ring inside of it. It’s quite different from a ring you’d expect as a wedding ring, yet this whole situation alone was. It has a gold band that surrounds itself with diamonds while an oval emerald diamond sits right in the middle of it, smaller silver diamonds outlining the oval shape.

“We have no time to waste.” Jin removes the ring from the box and holds it up. “Give me your hand.”

You watch in slight awe as Jin slides the ring onto your finger. It’s a surreal feeling in knowing that you won this twisted game he has forced you into. A game that lasted only a few hours, but felt like weeks on end.

There’s clapping that sounds throughout the ballroom and for a moment, you nearly forgot that it wasn’t just you and Jin in the room. 

A man with a gold mask comes forward, papers in hand. It wasn’t Namjoon, you note, as the man wasn’t as tall.

“Come,” Jin wraps a hand around your waist. “let’s sign these documents.”

Jin doesn’t waste any time in handing you your own pen to sign a few documents that he doesn’t allow you to read. All of your signatures were right besides his, already pre-signed. 

You aren’t nervous about signing your life away. Afterall, it isn’t everyday that you go through such trials and tribulations to assure you live long enough to see yourself be married.

That, and murder someone for the first time. Maybe tomorrow when your reality dawns on you would you actually break down. As of now, your mind remains blank and you’re working on autopilot. 

There’s a hand that catches you out of your thoughts. It’s holding a clear champagne glass full of slightly bubbling liquid.

You grasp the glass from one of the men sporting a gold mask. He holds another one out for Jin who also takes it. Jin holds his glass up for you to clank against his in a toast.

“To Y/N and I,” Jin announces, his dark eyes reaching yours. “to death do us part.” he says, a more sinister meaning behind the words.

There’s more cheering as you lift the champagne to your lips and sip, as does Jin. His eyes never leave you. He finds that even if you’re possibly in shock now, the reality not fully sinking in yet and covered in blood, he finds you beautiful. 

Maybe it’s also because in a short amount of time, you’ve managed to succumb to a bit of madness, realizing that if you wanted to survive all of this meant that you had to do what you possibly didn’t want to.

“A lot to handle in just one day?” Jin murmurs your way, leaning down a bit. There’s chattering throughout the entirety of the ballroom.

“Yeah.” you nod your head in agreement. “I…became a killer?” you’re unsure how else to put it.

Jin chuckles at your cuteness. “In a way,” he responds. “the best has yet to come.”

You aren’t sure exactly what he meant, but you were going to find out.

Your body warms in a matter of minutes and slowly, you begin to relax. You were already eerily calm as if you hadn’t murdered an innocent woman. Yet, you felt even calmer - was that possible?

It was as if your body was shooting serotonin boosts throughout you and you were becoming relaxed.

Happy even.

“You,”

Seokjin’s voice sounded so close to you as you down the rest of the champagne. Your throat was throbbing for more, thirst growing throughout you.

“are in for a long ride.” Seokjin finishes as he places a hand on the low of your back. Dangerously low that it shooks electricity right up your spine.

“Am I?” you question, turning a bit to look at him. His lips are curled slightly and beady eyes are already watching you.

“Indeed you are.” Seokjin murmurs. He takes a curt sip of his bubbling champagne before he presses the glass to your lips. You open your mouth to drink the remaining of it, your eyes unblinking from Seokjin’ - almost as if in a trance.

“There’s things people like us do.” Seokjin’s fingers tap along your back. “The elites.”

“Elites?”

Seokjin begins to stroll and he keeps you close to him. The room is crowded as it has been for a while, yet you remain close to Seokjin as if it was just the two of you. The room is loud with chattering voices that you cannot make out in any conversation, but even then you only hear Seokjin as he speaks.

“Powerful people like me.” 

Jin steers you towards a tall door that opens upon arrival by another masked figure who waits right beside it. The masked man bows to Jin and you as the two of you stroll through the door and down the long, carpeted hallway.

“These…parties?” you question. You rock your head side to side a bit, your hand coming up to wipe your forehead of a light trail of sweat. “Is everyone here elites?”

Jin nods his head. “Everyone once in a while, we all come together.” he murmurs. For an odd reason, the carpeted hallway appears entirely too long. At the end of said hallway is a pair of double doors that match the ones you and he walked through. “It’s like a secret society.”

“Secret society…” you trail off. You blink a few times when you and Jin reach the end of the hallway, your mind thinking a million questions at once. “...what do you guys do…?”

You got your answer quicker than you realized. The door is opened by Jin and he pushes you in gently. Your eyes trail over the large room. The carpet is the same crimson red as the hallway, though this time there’s gold patterns. The tall walls appear to be stone and now you realize just how enclosed this room is.

Moans and squeals fill the room, naked bodies all over the place. You and Jin’s entrance goes unnoticed by the sea of people engaging in sexual activity. Right in the middle of the large room are a group of women engaging in oral sex, their manicured hands roaming one anothers naked bodies.

Jin notices the way you push yourself closer to him and his arm around you holds you a bit tighter. He leans down a bit to murmur to you. 

“Sometimes we come together and have a little fun.” Jin responds.

Within the sea of naked bodies, there’s still a few - men - that are covered. You noticed the gold masks that are similar to the ones Jin and Namjoon wore. Fully clothed and lingering in the area.

In the corner of the room, there’s a group of people fucking. A few naked bystanders watch, one woman's head on another's shoulders as if they were watching their favorite show. Your eyes watch the way the man fucks the woman with such earnest and need. 

As if they were the only two in the room.

“Takes a lot to get used to this world.” Jin’s voice sends shivers down your spine and it knocks you back into reality. “You are an elite now.”

You swallow, eyes slowly widening at the words before you shake your head a bit. You bite your lip as you continue to survey the area. Were all these people elites? Is this what the ultra wealthy did? Partake in sex parties?

It shouldn’t catch you by surprise. You recall Namjoon’s words from earlier on how he voted for you. This was another part of the world of the elite. A game. After watching you all engage in a sick game of survival, they come here and fuck one another brains out.

You take a deep breath. There wasn’t any turning back now. Your dress is still covered in Zarish’s blood, staining the expensive material. Your mind is swirling and your core is telling you that possibly you drank more than just champagne.

“You look tense, Y/N.” Jin rubs your back softly. “You should unwind.”

“Unwind…how?” you question low. You could guess how. The sea of people all surrounding you two, all engaging in different sexual positions. “Jin?”

“Hm?” Jin hums. His long fingers appear to tap along your back as he awaits for you to answer him.

“Zarish,” you begin, swallowing a bit. Your mind was swirling and you didn’t want to forget what you had promised her prior to what you’ve done. “I…I promised her…”

Jin blinks, perfect eyelashes fluttering. “That you’d help her sick father?”

You knit your brows. 

“I know everything about all my contestants.” Jin continues with a curt nod of his head. “You remain so noble, Y/N. My wife.” Jin’s fingers dance up your spine until they stop at the nape of your neck. “Whatever you set out to do, I will allow it. For now, let’s enjoy ourselves.”

Your head turns just in time to catch the figure that struts towards you. The gold mask comes to your line of vision and all you can think of was Jin and Namjoon. You do not move, even when the masked man stops directly in front of you and offers a bit of a head tilt. You cannot see his eyes and the eye holes of the golden mask appear like an endless dark hole.

“Y/N this is-”

“Jimin.”

The masked man speaks, his voice muffled a bit behind the golden mask. His hand lifts up to remove the mask, an act that appears taboo in a place such as this, but possibly he does it as an act of familiarity.

The man that comes from behind the golden mask has the same level of beauty as Jin and Namjoon, a pair of dark eyes staring back at you and a low grin that shows ulterior motives.

Jimin…

The man’s pearly white smile captivates you for a second too long that when he holds his hand out for you to take, you’re standing a bit dumbfounded.

“It’s nice to get the chance to meet you, Y/N.” Jimin’s voice sounds like honey - sweet and sugary. “My name is Jimin. Park,” Jimin, once you place your hand in his surprisingly soft and calloused-free ones, lifts it to his mouth. They’re a bit glossy, you note. “Jimin.” he says after he pecks your hand.

Your head slowly turns to Jin who’s already watching. He doesn’t say anything about Jimin’s actions and instead takes a step back, as if to allow you to do as you pleased.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” you murmur meekly. Your thighs pressed together firmly, the surrounding moans mixed with skin slapping was too much. How could they ignore the sex surrounding them?

They were elites, your mind tells you. They do this often.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Jimin allows your hand to drop, but he doesn’t step away.

“Yes…?” you glance around a bit. One girl is on her knees not too far away. Her mouth was occupied and so were her hands.

“Is that a question?” Jimin chuckles. He turns his head behind him to follow your gaze. “This must be a lot for you.”

All you can feel is your body burning up. You release a short huff. The room was stuffy and even this dress was feeling a bit too tight.

“I have never been a part of…”

“An Orgy.” Jimin chuckles, his laughter just as sweet as his voice that it causes you to melt a bit.

You proceed to glance towards Jin again. Just what was he doing standing and watching you for?

“Would you like to?”

Jin doesn’t answer for you, not even when your eyes meet his for any form of guidance.

You’re sure you don’t have a choice, you think. You were brought here for a reason. The blood on your dress was the reminder of the choice you made. The papers you’ve signed and the ring Jin put on your finger.

Slowly, you nod your head. 

You wanted this, you told yourself.

You’ve killed for this.

“Champagne?” 

There’s another voice this time. It’s as though you were hypnotized by Jimin that you had not realized another golden masked man stopped directly beside you. He holds out a single glass of bubbling champagne for you to take. You do, placing the glass against your lips and proceeding to downing the drink. You lick your lips as the masked man takes it from you.

“Turn around.”

That’s Jimin talking. You do, your heels falling silent against the carpeted floor. You’re now facing Jin. He’s leaning against the stone wall, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Jimin’s hands are on your back and you could feel it loosening. He begins to unzip the dress slowly, bringing up anticipation. Your head tilts a bit, your breathing increasing.

“Not participating today?” 

Jimin isn’t speaking with you. The masked man who brought you the champagne responds. 

“Maybe later. I just want to watch for now.”

Your dress  falls to your ankles. You don’t feel cold, even when the goosebumps erupt through your bare skin. Your body grows even hotter, especially with how close the unknown masked man and Jimin were to you.

“Congratulations on your engagement Y/N.” Jimin murmurs from behind you.

“And to Jin-hyung.”

Jin’s eyes blink away to look at the two men behind you. He offers a curt nod to them.

There’s hands onto your body now and a pair of lips on your neck. They move entirely too fast for you to process. Your eyes flutter and it’s becoming difficult to keep your eyes on Jin. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve sampled something new.”

You catch a glimpse of it from the corner of your eyes. The gold mask that falls to the floor. 

Jimin’s index finger hooks beneath your chin and pulls your face his way. His lips are centimeters away from you and before he could place his lips upon yours, you pull your face away.

Was this what Jin meant? Was he going to sit and watch you the entire time?

Jin’s eyes connect with yours for a moment and he only nods his head. His arms are crossed over his chest now.

Gradually, you begin to turn your head back towards Jimin. He hadn’t moved from his position and once he realized you were willing now, he placed his lips upon yours. They’re soft and have a faint taste of strawberries.

There’s a pair of large hands that grip at your skin as your lips dances with Jimin’s. Your body radiates more heat as if you’re a furnace and you cannot help the choked moan that dies down in your throat. Maybe it was because you knew Jin was watching you the entire time. Maybe it was because you’re just another body in a sea of people all doing the same.

Jimin releases your lips, but that doesn’t mean you are done. Your face is yanked to the left and you finally come face to face with the other man. He’s just as beautiful as Jimin and the rest of them. His eyes are dark and his lips are thin as the kiss along your jaw. The unknown man was rougher than Jimin, his large hand cupping your neck to pull you closer to him.

“Taehyung.” the man says, his voice deep and raspy that you clench around nothing upon hearing it. As if reading your mind, he introduces himself before his own lips are on yours. He forces your mouth open, his tongue exploring your mouth.

“Champagne, sir?”

Jin turns his eyes to the naked woman with a tray of champagne. She doesn’t look directly in his eyes as she awaits for him to dismiss her or take the champagne offered. He does, long fingers hooking around the glass and he nods his head to dismiss her. She strolls away, naked body swaying into the sea of people.

Jin brings the bubbling liquid to his lips, eyes darting back to you. You were a mess already, Taehyung and Jimin not being known to waste any time. You were already out of your bra and it lay discarded on the ground. Taehyung has a mouth full of your left nipple, large hands aggressively gripping and tugging on your breast as he suckles.

Jimin’s hand find their way between your legs that he shoves apart. He doesn't bother to tear your panties off just yet, his fingers working your clit as his tongue twirls over your right nipple.

Your moans do not go unnoticed by Jin, even in a room full of squeals, slapping skin and aggressive moaning. They’re like honey - sweet and curt and entirely new to his ears. He licks his lips, taking another sip of champagne.

It’s entirely too fast for you to process, you think. The way Taehyung was rough and dominant while Jimin was the exact opposite. He was more teasing, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit while his tongue flickers your nipple dangerously slow. 

You don’t attempt to contact your moans and even your body begins to feel heavy. You’re leaning entirely onto Jimin, but the man doesn’t appear to be bothered by it. 

“S-Slow down-”

Taehyung’s teeth graze your nipple as he pops it from his mouth. His eyes look upwards at you and he grunts. “No.” he says. “We’re preparing you for hyung.”

You gasp when Jimin’s finger skims across your hole, teasing you even more. He chuckles a bit, a cool laugh because he knows just how much you want his fingers in you.

“Get you nice and ready to be fucked.” Jimin sing-songs, his contrast compared to Taehyung a true eye opener. 

“Table.” Taehyung says, and before you have the chance to process, you feel yourself being lifted off your feet.

You yelp when your back slams against something cold and hard. Your eyes dance around the large table, already occupied with people, yet you were the center of it. To your right were women who were being watched by other masked men - not golden masks - as they performed several sex acts.

“Take these off.” Taehyung tugs at your panties, snatching them away from your wet core and down your legs. He doesn’t bother to toss them anywhere near you and instead discards them behind his shoulders. “Let’s see how wet you are, huh?”

“Pretty wet.” Jimin says from beside Taehyung, placing a few of his fingers in his mouth and sucks them.

Taehyung’s hand slaps against your inner thighs once he shoves them apart. You squeal, the action causing a jolt of pleasure right through you. 

“We’ll make you even wetter.”

It’s Taehyung that acts first, long fingers inching inside of you. Your back arches when he begins to pound them inside of you so roughly that you barely have time to react. Beside him Jimin holds your right leg while Taehyung your left, both eyes trained on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers.

Jin emerges right behind you on the table, another glass of champagne in his hand. He looks down at your face - fucked out expression with fluttering eyes and flushed skin. There’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth that trails down your jaw.

“You must want a cock in you, Y/N. You’re milking all over Tae’s palm!” Jimin chuckles, squeezing your thigh.

“No fair!”

Jin knows the voice of his dongsaeng. The whiny familiar voice of Jeon Jungkook as he appears, mask dangling from his shoulders. 

“You didn’t wait for me!”

Taehyung’s pump slows a bit as he turns to the younger man with a roll of his eyes. He releases a sigh. “You were late.”

“I was busy.”

Jungkook meets your glossy gaze and he grins. 

“Y/N,” Jungkook leans closer to you. “I’ve voted for you since the beginning.”

“You’re ruining the moment, Kook. Do something or go.” Jimin hisses, with a soft glare.

“I plan to.” Jungkook pushes Taehyung away. “You’re doing nothing but teasing her. I’ll be making her cum.”

The three of them together always caused competition - Jungkook being the most competitive of the trio. Jin doesn’t say anything and he’s a bit amused when you sigh meekly.

Jungkook takes Taehyung’s place between your legs, forcing your right leg into place so you cannot move away from him. He offers you a short wink before lowering himself to your clit. 

Your thighs jolt to close, but with Jimin and Jungkook, they don’t. Jungkook’s tongue is warm and it licks between your folds rather aggressively. 

Taehyung isn’t amused by being taken over by Jungkook, but he isn’t going to fight him. Not now, at least. Instead, he places his fingers inside your gasping mouth.

Tasting your arousal was something you’d never thought you do - yet, neither was being an “elite” and partaking in…orgies? Especially while your soon to be husband watched above you. 

However, it all appears to be a dream. You aren’t bothered being completely naked by three unknown men you all met today while one eats you out as if he has something to prove.

Your eyes roll as there’s another set of fingers pumping inside of you now all the while Jungkook’s warm tongue continues to suckle onto your clit. Your chest heaves as it was all too much now. You’re unsure who’s hand is gripping at your breast, their thumb flicking your nipple, but you’re sure it’s Jimin.

Jin can feel his cock twitching from his suit pants. He drops the empty glass onto the table and leans closer to you, cloudy eyes on the way your breast bounces as your hips jerk against Jungkook’s tongue, pussy squeezing around his fingers.

“She’s so fucked out.” Taehyung chuckles, removing his fingers from your mouth so he trails them down towards your breast. 

“I think she’s about to cum.” sing-song Jimin. 

“Are you ready for her, hyung?” asks Taehyung.

“I didn’t make her cum yet.” Jungkook groans, fingers pumping inside of you. Your juices coat his palm and he’s entirely enthralled by how sopping wet you are.

“We’re just warming her up.” 

Jungkook groans. There’s nothing more he hates than to leave a woman in such a manner. He removes his fingers and sighs with a shake of his head. “Maybe next time.” he says with a cute pout. It’s then you notice the piercing on his lip. “Hyung.”

You lay flat against the table now, chest heaving. Your thighs quiver and you can barely keep your eyes open now. Your high was slowly coming down, but even then did you feel the electricity through your veins.

“Time to consummate the marriage!” 

Jimin’s voice dances through your ears.

“Y/N,”

You open your eyes to see Jin right in front of you. His head is tilted and he appears to wait for you to be fully coherent before he speaks again.

“Welcome to the elites.” Jin says, taking a step closer between your legs.

You exhaled a shaky breath, unanswering.

Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook stand around, their own glasses of champagne in their hand and they down them one by one.

Your low eyes watch as Jin begins to loosen his belt from around his waist.

“Enjoy your night tonight, boys.” Jimin says, lifting his third glass of champagne. His eyes turn from Jungkook to Taehyung. “There’s a long work week ahead of us.”

They carry on their own conversation that goes on deaf ears when Jin places both hands onto your waist and pulls you closer towards him. 

“You aren’t going to remember this tomorrow.” Jin murmurs. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”

“I’ll manage.” you murmur back, a hand reaching out to grab at his suit. “Please fuck me.”

Jin chuckles at your filthy words but he was going to do exactly what you asked.

“I have a million on one match in Paris.” Taehyung says. “I have to leave tomorrow morning.”

Jin’s cock is leaking pre-cum when he releases it from his underwear, his suit pants dropping by his ankles. 

“Your pussy is pretty.” Jin comments. “I’m glad you won the game, Y/N. You fit into this world greatly.”

Jin enters you without much warning, but your pussy is so wet that it isn’t a problem. The stretch is good, a low groan deep in your throat.

Jin begins to pound into you, his aggressive thrusts only adding to the other around the large room. His eyes watch the way your breast bounces beneath him. He hooks your legs around his waist for a deeper entrance. 

Witnessing the way you submit fully to him and allowing yourself to be pleasured by his dongsaengs caused a deep desire to grow within him.  In all ways but one, you were the one he needed. The endless games he partaken in to assure he found the perfect wife had led him to you.

Your pussy grips Jin’s cock with such need. It’s as if it’s been waiting for him this entire time like a missing puzzle piece. He never wants to stop, he thinks. You’re beautiful underneath the dim lights of the room, eyes dark and clouded with temptation, lust and intoxication. 

“You’re gonna cum before I do.” Jin grumbles, his fingernails digging into the skin of your hips. He snaps his hips roughly, the table long moving erratically beneath the two of you. “Go ahead and let go, Y/N.”

You’re flipped, your front slammed against the cold table.You come face to face with Jungkook, who’s eyes sparkle a bit, but you don’t have the time to talk. Jin enters you once more, pounding so deep inside of you. Your hands reach out to hold anything on the table and find nothing - until Jimin takes your hand and allows you to squeeze.

“I have to go to Japan.” Jimin says, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand encouragingly as his hyung fucks you without a care in the world. “Meeting with politicians.”

“Ugh, boring.” Jungkook leans back, arms behind his head as he listens to Jimin speak.

“F-Fuck.” you shake your head, stomach churning with the familiar feeling from early - the one you lost when Jungkook was forced away from you.

“Let go,Y/N. Cum all over me.” Jin says darkly, his fingernails were going to leave bruises on your skin when he was done with you. 

Your ass slams against his abdomen, his pounds growing harder and harder by the second. 

“To the newlyweds.” Taehyung raises yet another glass of champagne, his words slurred a bit.

You’re seeing white this time, juices pooling out and down your thighs. You squeeze Jimin’s hand in your own, a spew of curse words leaving your lips.

Jin isn’t done - not yet. He continues fucking into you while you squirm underneath him. It was all too much to handle, the overstimulation beginning to hurt a bit. However, the pain felt good and even you found that you were going to cum once more.

“I’m going to take you to our home and fuck you even more.” Jin’s sloppy thrust indicates that he was just as wrecked as you were. A hand takes your hair and forces you back so he can place his plump lips besides your ear. “Y/N…my wife…” Jin groans, milky seeds erupting inside of you so deep. It’s just as hot as you feel, filling you to the brim entirely.

You drop back onto the table with an exhausted huff, eyes fluttering close. Jin remains inside of  you, his cum pooling out and filling you up at both a rabid and slow pace. Sweat pools the corner of your forehead and you are about done with the night.

“To the newlyweds.” Jungkook claps his hands together. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”

“To think it took this long for you to find the perfect one.” Jimin states. You are asleep now. Still naked and on top of the table, weariness taking over your body completely. “One manipulative little bitch she is for tricking that girl. I like her.”

Jin agrees. He pulls his pants up and tightens his belt just as before. “Whatever it takes to win.” he says, placing a hand onto your head and rubbing a bit. “She’ll fit right in.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

She's a beauty, and so different, too. This elegant 1925 home in Chico, CA was built from bricks salvaged from the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. Remodeled in 2007, the 4bd, 3ba, 3,824 sq ft home features many French, Belgian, & Italian elements. $2.1m.

Look at these chimneys. There's so much attention to detail.

Two entrances to the lovely sitting room.

Looks like an artist owns this home. Nice, serene studio/home office.

Relaxing little sitting room.

Everything about this home is so pretty.

Gorgeous kitchen has Carrera marble counters w/French patisserie etching. That is so special.

Lovely dining room with light wood paneling.

Magnificent primary bedroom with a private terrace.

There are so many details to see, like the unusual shape of this fireplace.

Isn't this beautiful?

Huge bath with fireplace.

The owner has some amazing antiques.

The bedrooms are all so spacious and inviting.

Lovely guest room.

Hand carved Italian spindles grace the railings on the stairs.

The wood pieces they've collected from Europe mesh together perfectly.

French fireplace.

Antique doors with original hardware.

8,712 sq ft lot with a patio and garden.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1095-N-Woodland-Ave-Chico-CA-95928/443792060_zpid/

[actiniumwrites]

Not sure if you’re taking request still but if you are was wondering if you could right abt reader hiding their fever from Tighnari or Diluc (or both)

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

synopsis: in which you try to hide your sickness from them, just trying to stay out of their way, except it doesn’t quite go to plan

characters: heizou, thoma, tighnari, dottore, and childe x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, descriptions of being sick, a tiny bit of swearing, established relationships

notes: thanks for the request! i tried pretty hard to come up with something for diluc but i wasn’t able to so i just did tighnari. i also added in some other characters, hope that’s okay :) also reminder that this is a relatively old request and i’m not actively taking requests!

heizou:

you hadn’t intended to ever hide your sickness from him, honestly

you woke up with the incoming feeling of what you assumed was a fever. your temperature was high and you felt fatigued

still, when your red haired boyfriend came prancing into your shared bedroom excitedly shaking your shoulders begging you to join him on his day off, you felt as though you couldn’t refuse

he was just so happy and you didn’t want to ruin that, not when he had been so stressed recently

walking around ritou with him seemed to be alright

the weather wasn’t bad and he even took you to a few shops for some lunch and souvenirs

but as the time passed, your head felt dizzier and your eyes stung a bit. the red of the maple trees was blending with the blue of the sky and the shops around began to spin

“are you okay?” he had asked worriedly, noticing your eyes began to droop and the overall fatigue you seemed to be experiencing

he put a hand to your forehead and noticed the burning sensation and light sweat building quickly

“shit, you’re sick? why didn’t you say anything?” he asked as he began to rush you home. his arms were around you, steadying you against him

“you were so excited,” you mumble against his shoulder, “i didn’t wanna ruin that, but it looks like i did anyway.”

the detective’s heart ached as the words left your mouth, he couldn’t believe you would say something like that, “please don’t say that again. your health matters way more than my fun, don’t ever forget that.”

when you got home, you fell asleep quickly, all snuggled up in the warm covers

heizou dimmed the lights and brought some medicine and water to place on the table next to you for when you woke up

as he got in the bed with you, he made sure to pull the blankets snuggly over you and bring you closer to his chest and placing a small kiss to your forehead

“i love you,” he whispered before shutting his eyes and holding you close.

thoma:

thoma hadn’t asked you to help him with chores, but here you were…helping him with chores

although the weather was beautiful, it was spring and in influx of new leaves and all sorts of pollen was in the air and on the floors of the estate

you were kind enough to help your boyfriend out with all of the spring cleaning to prevent him from getting stressed

unfortunately, it only lead to you getting stressed and consequently sick

you had already felt the oncomings of sickness for the past week

from various headaches, lack of sleep, the inability to eat, all the way to a runny nose and sore throat — you knew it was only going to worsen, but still clung to the hope it was just spring allergies

still, you chose to help him anyway while also leaving out the details of your sickness

about two hours had passed since your last break before fatigue hit you hard. the rake you had been using to gather fallen flowers was now leaned against the wall

your arm was resting against the railing to balance yourself as you sat on the small set of stairs under the shade

“thoma,” you called out to him through shut eyes and rushed breaths, “i’m so sorry, i- i don’t think i can help you anymore.”

he ran to you almost instantly, dropping everything in his hands to check if you were okay

when he saw you weren’t, he rushed you inside to your guys’ shared room

“oh archons, i’m so sorry i didn’t notice! you really didn’t have to help me if you weren’t feeling good,” he apologized, urgently trying to help you

it was like that for hours after

he was constantly apologizing for not noticing and you could tell he truly felt bad

he even brought you fresh homemade soup and anything else you so desired. you name it, he got it

at the end of the day, he fell asleep alongside you, swearing to stay by you until you felt better.

he didn’t even care if he got sick. if it was for you, it was worth it

tighnari:

tighnari had been frustrated all week

you had noticed that almost instantaneously and even if you hadn’t, all of his grumbling, dark eye bags (which he never seemed to have), and the distance he was placing between you would have made it blatantly obvious

he didn’t seem himself as of late and that made you feel a bit down yourself

eventually it got to the point where his mood was dampening everyone else’s and you had fallen ill

the forest watcher was so stressed that he hadn’t even noticed

you had tried to tell him when he requested you help him with collecting samples of withered areas, but he was quick to shut you down before hearing you out, requesting that you, “please just help me without complaining.”

under normal circumstances, you would have told him off and not allowed him to dictate over you like that, but you weren’t feeling well at all and didn’t have the energy to argue

besides, it would only be an hour and a half right? you figured you could get through that

you should’ve known what you were getting into. your boyfriend always took longer than expected, though you hadn’t expected an hour and a half to turn into two, which then turned into three

when you realized the time, you began to ask to go home and just come back tomorrow. it was getting dark and was definitely a reasonable request of him

but tighnari wasn’t in the mood and he brushed you off, choosing not to answer your question

moments later, his equipment fell and broke — almost as if karma had struck him

he was never one to lose his cool so easily, but here he was yelling at nothing and kicking his bag over

when you had asked him to calm down, he refused and snapped at you too.

he didn’t mean it — you knew that, but you couldn’t help but feel like he did. like he meant to snap at you and that all his anger was somehow your fault

mixed with the fatigue and shivers from your now fully developed fever, your eyes drooped and you fell forward into unconsciousness

hours had passed before you awoke. but when you did, you found tighnari right by your side handing you a cup of water and some of his homemade medicine

“i’m so sorry,” he started quickly, stumbling over his words as he tried to apologize, “i was so selfish forcing you to go with me. i mean, what kind of boyfriend doesn’t even notice when their partner is sick?”

you cough before responding, “you were a little harsh, but it’s okay now. you were just stressed and no one was around to help you out when you needed it, so don’t feel too bad okay?”

he nodded sadly and fell against your lap, still guilt-stricken by his lack of awareness and clouded mind from just a mere few hours ago

he would take the next week off he decided. taking care of you was more important and he had a lot of making up to do

dottore:

you weren’t surprised the doctor had failed to recognize the fact that you were sick

while he was a doctor, he wasn’t one that cared for his patients or anyone besides himself

when he had called you to his lab early one morning to aid him in some lab work, you knew there was no chance of it ending well

you loved him, you really did, but your boyfriend was pushy. and when his mind was set on something, it became the most important thing to him

today he had asked for your assistance in his lab for whatever new experiment he had conjured up this time

initially, you refused as you weren’t feeling well and didn’t have the energy

but, as aforementioned, dottore is a stubborn man and wouldn’t take no for an answer

“dottore, i’m not feeling we—“ you tried to argue with him

“ah ah, i do not care what excuse you have this time. i need your help and only your help.”

he didn’t even hear you out

so you sucked it up and helped him

about an hour had passed when you began feeling strained

back and forth of reaching for different materials and finding information for him became too much

“can we just take a break?” you breathed out heavily, immune system weak from your sickness

“no, what did i tell you? it is imperative that we do not stop until this is finished,” he stops for a moment, tone softening as he turns to you, “i’ll take you out to that place you’ve been wanting to try later, i promise. just, help me with this and we can go.”

you smile at the offer, happy he was finally making the time to go out with you, but it wasn’t enough

as soon as he asked for the next object, your dizziness kicked in as your neck craned to see it up on the high shelves of his lab

and the next thing dottore heard was a thud with you on the ground

“dottore… i can’t— i’m so sorry,” tears pool at your eyes as your fever worsens

he helps you up with a stern look, his arms wrapped around yours as he pulls you closer to inspect your face, “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“are you serious? i did tell you! you didn’t listen to me,” you exclaim

dottore softens in the way he only does around you, quietly offering you an apology and his coat to warm up your shivering body “i apologize, my love. i should not have been so neglectful of my own partner.”

he’s careful as he carries you to your shared bed and wraps you up:

“how about that restaurant? i’ll pick up whatever you want.”

childe:

sometimes childe can be a literal child. you knew that when the two of you began dating. sometimes you minded, other times you didn’t

he had a way of nagging when he wanted things and whining when he didn’t get them

you hadn’t gotten out of bed all morning and childe was getting impatient, hoping you would spar with him today for fun

you didn’t bother to tell him you were sick, thinking that he’d eventually realize later in the day

but childe was having one of those days and didn’t have a care in the world for anyone but himself

he came in to your shared room and collapsed on you, completely missing the pained grunt you let out as complaints flew left and right out of his mouth

things like: “spar with me, please!” and “c’mon we haven’t challenged each other in so long!” among many other complaints

he was right, it had been along time. and while you didn’t exactly want to spar with him today, you figured if you just indulged him for one round he would let it go

so you got up and got your equipment desperately trying to ignore the pounding of your headache

childe was beaming with excitement as he kissed your cheek and ran out to grab his equipment

when you got outside to join him, the chilly wind of snezhnaya bit at your skin and made your nose run faster than it had been before

childe quickly went in for a few hits, you dodged them and countered him quickly

it seemed to increase his determination as he charged at you effectively hitting you in the side

you didn’t let it affect you too much, aside from a bit of coughing which your boyfriend had chalked up to being from the impact of the hit

you had only lasted ten minutes longer before he landed one last hit, knocking you to the ground

“oh, c’mon! that one wasn’t even that bad. don’t tell me you can’t handle a hit that weak!” he laughed, just teasing you

you bent over on your hands and knees, violently coughing as tears poured out from your eyes

“hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” childe panicked as he dropped to his knees next to you with one hand placed on your back to support you

his hand reached your forehead, feeling a burning sensation, “woah, you’re burning up! why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“you were—“ you were cut off by your coughs, “so excited to spar. i figured if i just indulged you for a round or two i’d be fine…”

“hey, you didn’t have to do that,” he said softly, “i would’ve understood if you just told me. i care more about you than fighting, you know that.”

childe picked you up quickly and brought you back inside your shared home and to your bed, wrapping you up cozily under the covers before joining you

“childe, no— you’ll get sick,” you tried to push him away.

he smiled and firmly placed a kiss on your lips,“oh c’mon, when have i ever cared about that?”

[marsdql]

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 & 𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jake × girlfriend!fem!reader (featuring Sunghoon and Ni-ki)

Synopsis: You and your boyfriend's bandmates decided to surprise your lovely hardworking puppy for his birthday yuuuururrrr yup yup

Genre: teeth rotting fluff, little suggestive ending, jakes birthday!!

𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: Happy Birthday Jake Skibidi i love that man... (requests are currently opened) Dont really have much to say since I posted yesterday but.... Ill be making a masterlist soon to organize my fics! ( Sorry for being inactive, I almost quit this morning i was having a moment,...) ENJOY !!!

You couldn’t contain your excitement. Today was Jake’s birthday, and you had something special planned with his closest friends, Sunghoon and Ni-ki. Jake was the type who’d do anything to make his friends happy, so this year, you wanted to make sure his birthday was one he’d never forget.

After a week of whispered phone calls and sneaky planning sessions, everything was finally coming together. You’d rented a cozy rooftop space downtown with fairy lights strung along the railings, a table set with his favorite snacks, and a small corner dedicated to photos of all the memories he’d made with his friends and with you.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you and Jake’s friends finished up the last-minute details. Ni-ki, as usual, was cracking jokes while struggling with the balloons, while Sunghoon meticulously adjusted the lights, making sure everything looked perfect.

“You guys ready?” you asked, eyeing the setup with a smile.

Sunghoon nodded, taking a step back to survey their work. “He’s going to freak out when he sees this.”

“He’d better,” Ni-ki joked, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “After all this effort, he owes us dinner for a year!”

Just as you all shared a laugh, you got a text from Jake. He was on his way, completely oblivious to the surprise waiting for him. The three of you scrambled to hide and take your places, shushing each other as you saw his silhouette coming up the stairs.

Jake opened the door, and as he stepped onto the rooftop, everyone jumped up and yelled, “SURPRISE!”

He froze, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. The fairy lights cast a warm glow, illuminating the table piled with his favorite treats and the wall of photos filled with moments of him laughing, goofing around, and sharing memories with his closest friends.

“Y/N? Sunghoon? Ni-ki?” he stammered, looking around in awe. “You guys… did all this?”

You stepped forward, beaming. “Happy Birthday, Jake! We wanted to make sure today was as amazing as you are.”

Jake's gaze softened, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “I don’t know what to say. This is… incredible.”

Ni-ki nudged him playfully. “Come on, Jake, don’t get too sappy. This rooftop rental wasn’t cheap!”

Everyone burst into laughter as Sunghoon handed him a small party hat. “Put it on,” he insisted, grinning. “Birthday boy rules.”

Jake obliged, chuckling as he let his friends shower him in confetti and hand him snacks. Eventually, he made his way over to the photo wall, his fingers brushing over the snapshots.

“Where did you find all of these?” he asked, his voice filled with nostalgia.

Sunghoon smirked, exchanging a knowing glance with you. “It wasn’t easy, but Y/N and I managed to dig some up from your old albums. Turns out, you have a lot of embarrassing baby photos.”

Jake turned to you, chuckling softly, his eyes shining. “I can’t believe you did all of this.”

“Of course I did,” you replied, stepping closer. “You’re worth every second of planning.”

As the night wore on, the four of you shared stories, laughed until your sides hurt, and reminisced about all the adventures you’d had together. Jake couldn’t stop smiling, his eyes lighting up every time he looked around at his friends.

Later, as the others gathered on the far side of the rooftop to argue over the playlist, Jake turned to you, his voice soft. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Your heart fluttered, and you looked up at him, feeling the warmth in his gaze. “I’m just glad you’re happy, Jake.”

He gave you a shy smile, his hand finding yours. “I am. And it’s all because of you.”

The two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth under the glow of the fairy lights, making a memory that you both knew you’d cherish forever.

The rooftop was quiet now, the fairy lights casting a soft glow over the scattered decorations as you and Jake stood side by side, watching the city lights below. Sunghoon and Ni-ki had just left, leaving you and Jake alone. You felt a flutter in your chest – the kind that only happened when it was just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment.

“Tonight was… perfect,” he murmured, his voice low. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he pulled you closer.

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you took in the soft look in his eyes. "I’m glad you had fun. You deserve it, Jake.”

He smiled, his gaze dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy. And I think it’s mostly because of you.”

You swallowed, the intensity of his gaze making your skin tingle. The air between you felt charged, his thumb softly tracing circles on the back of your hand.

Jake gently lifted your chin, his face only inches from yours. "Thank you… for everything tonight." His voice was barely a whisper as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was slow, tender, his hand finding the small of your back and pulling you close.

The world seemed to melt away as his hands slipped around your waist, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. His lips moved with yours, gentle at first but growing more insistent as he deepened the kiss. You felt your knees weaken as he pressed you back gently against the rail, his hands framing your face.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I could get used to this," he murmured, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly, a little breathless. “Who says you have to stop?”

His eyes darkened, and his arms tightened around you. “Good,” he whispered, pulling you into another kiss, this time slower, more lingering – the kind of kiss that promised a night you’d both remember.

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

( marsdql ) >.< !!

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(X-Men) Logan Howlett x Reader: After Christmas

You rendezvous with Logan after Christmas at the X Mansion to cuddle and talk about the day's events

Word Count: 940

Warnings: Fluff, Smooches

Your bare feet treaded lightly as you descended the stairs, your hands running over the lengthy garland that was wrapped around the railing. Soft yellow lights lit your path like pixies twinkling in the night.

During the daylight hours, the halls were bustling with excited students playing with their toys. The very air buzzed with energy as swarms of little faces passed you.

Those faces… Those smiles… They had become home.

It wasn’t just the familiarity of your surroundings- knowing each room and how to get there. It was the fact that these walls protected the ones you’d come to love. Made them comfortable. Provided security for them. Helped to create a space for them to reach for their full potential.

The evening hours were a stark contrast to the holiday excitement. Quiet. Tranquil. 

Most everyone that dwelled and learned there were fast asleep- tired out from the day’s activities, and yet, hopeful and anticipating what the next day would bring.

It was in that quiet time that you had the house to yourself in a way. Of course, there were times when you’d encounter another soul who couldn’t sleep or was simply enjoying the peace just as you were. With the traumas and tragic histories that those who attended the academy tended to have, it wasn’t unheard of. But it seemed tonight, everyone under that roof found themselves enjoying peaceful slumber.

You paused at the bottom of the stairs once you’d made your descent, peering around.

Well, almost everyone. There was one you expected to be awake yet.

You reached one of the common rooms, feeling your heart skip a beat when you saw him sprawled out rather comfortably on the couch as he waited for your approach, his head resting on a throw pillow as he gazed at the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

Logan’s exceptional hearing alerted him of your presence and he turned, eyebrows raised, to greet you.

“Hi,” you whispered, crossing the room as quickly as you could without your footsteps making noise. He lifted his arms invitingly, allowing you to drape yourself against his side on the couch.

“Hey,” he murmured against your hair. “What took you so long?”

“It was five minutes,” you countered playfully.

“Yeah, well, it felt like five years.” His arms encircled you, giving you a squeeze that pressed you tighter against him. You shut your eyes and drank in the steady thump-thump of Logan’s heart and the way his chest rose and fell with each deep, tired breath he took. That and his scent- a sort of teakwood mingled with notes of a warm musk- was a deadly combination that might have you falling asleep within the next ten or so minutes. Especially after the busy last few days you’d had.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, noticing how quiet you were.

“Do you think the kids had a good Christmas?” you asked. So much had gone into preparation. You’d been so busy with wrapping gifts, making preparations for the holiday meals, and organizing activities for the students that the quiet was almost unsettling. While you’d been so thrilled with your work, your mind now seemed keen on reflecting on your efforts and nitpicking every little detail that you previously hadn’t had an opportunity to address.

“You kiddin’ me?” Logan asked in disbelief. “Everyone had a blast. Students and staff included.”

“Really?” You shifted to glance up at him. His brows furrowed in confusion as he tilted his head down.

“Yeah. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Nothing major. I just noticed some of the gift wrapping wasn’t the best. The potatoes at dinner were kind of dry…” You counted the items on your fingers as you listed them aloud. Logan took hold of your hand before you could count any more, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Woah, woah, there.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring in that low voice of his, “I must’ve seen hundreds of smiles today. Too many to count. You were a big part of making that happen.”

Your heart fluttered, and he continued.

“Now, some of these things you’re talking about, I don’t think that’s the case. At least, I didn’t notice. The potatoes were good. All the gifts were wrapped with care. Not to mention shredded open before anyone could hold them under a magnifying glass and check.”

That made you chuckle, and Logan moved to kiss your cheek. “You’re right.” Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of the doubts that had attempted to plague you in the aftermath of your victory. “Thank you, Logan.”

He gazed down at you again, his dark eyes set aglow by the soft lights. “You did good. Let yourself enjoy it.”

You leaned up to press your lips against his, and Logan in turn cupped your cheek as he deepened the kiss. What tension had begun to set in your muscles melted away, and you relaxed fully in his arms. Letting your head rest against his flannel shirt, you huffed in amusement.

“I’m in danger now,” you whispered.

“Hm?”

“With nothing to worry about, I am inclined to fall asleep.”

“Then sleep.” His hand began to rub up and down your back soothingly, tempting you further. “Winter break is still on tomorrow.”

Classes wouldn’t start up again until after New Year’s day, so you’d have time to recuperate.

You sighed deeply at the realization, letting your eyes flutter closed. “Alright, then. I’m convinced.” Craning your neck to sneak in one last kiss on his lips, you whispered, “merry Christmas.”

There was definitely a smile in his voice when he murmured back, “merry Christmas.”

[svearehnn]

black violets and baby's breath | modern!azriel x bridesmaid!reader

summary: feyre and rhys are finally getting married! the tension between you and azriel is palpable.

a/n: part two will be coming soon! once i get my essay done lmao. i hope you enjoy! (i didn’t edit this apologies)

Cobalt blue hugged your form in a silky sheen, falling just above your white ankle heels. You let out a shuttering breath as you smoothed the fabric down, fiddling with the sparkling jewelry that adorned your ears, wrists, and neck. 

You were nervous. Feyre was getting married, your best friend. It was so thrilling to be apart of her wedding party, but you couldn’t help the racing of your heart at the thought of being escorted down the aisle by none other than Azriel, your long term crush and childhood friend. You eyed yourself in the mirror. It was obvious that you looked stunning–cobalt was your color, and a polished look seemed to compliment your angelic fae-like features.

However, you couldn’t find it within yourself to step out of the room. You chuckled sardonically to yourself, fluffing your hair, reapplying your lip gloss, doing anything to delay your inevitable exit. You weren’t even the bride, yet it felt as though you had pre-wedding jitters.

A knock sounded on the door, and you closed your eyes. One deep breath in, out through your mouth, and you opened the oak door. Mor stood on the other side, her brown eyes dazzling.

“You ready?” She squealed, excitement palpable in her buzzing form. You nodded hesitantly and took her hand. She squeezed it, a comforting gesture that helped soothe your rampant nerves.

“It’ll be okay. Az is going to think you’re beautiful. I mean, he always does, but goddamn do you look like a goddess right now.” That forced a giggle from your throat, prompting a smile to form on Mor’s striking features.

“There’s that gorgeous smile! Now come on.” Your blonde friend dragged you down the stairs, causing you to stumble in your heels. Once you got to the wooden staircase, you descended hand in hand. Nerves encased your soul, bees buzzing and stinging in your stomach. 

Yet, once you rounded the curve of the stairs and your eyes locked on Azriel’s hazel ones, all the nerves seemed to fade away. His eyes widened, brows raising, lips turning upward in an imperceptible smile that only you could catch. You bowed your head, cheeks aflame as you continued your decline. 

Mor had disappeared, arms wrapped around Emerie, leaving you alone with the railing gripped between bone white fingertips. Azriel outstretched his hand and you took it gingerly, letting him guide you down the last few steps and onto the natural wooden floors of Feyre and Rhys’ River House.

The two of you stood like that for a moment, no words exchanged, just drinking each other in. Azriel wore a black tux, a cobalt tie adorning his neck, accentuating the tattoos that peeked through the black collar of his shirt. His ears held their signature silver hoops and secondary studs, his fingers adorned with bands of silver and stone. He had slicked back his dark hair and it looked nice, yet all you wanted to do was muss it up to its usual messy demeanor.

Azriel spoke first, licking his lips and smacking them before he spoke. “You look…wow. Just phenomenal, Little Star.” He hummed, appreciation coating his tone. He raised your hand, twirling you around in a slow circle, eyeing the slit that went up to your hip and the low V that showed off your collarbones. The blush that filled your features warmed your skin to a feverish glow from his compliments.

“You look wonderful yourself, Azriel.” You murmured, looking him up and down slowly, drinking in every aspect, every detail of the godly male in front of you. He smirked, biceps flexing ever so slightly beneath the fabric of his tux. He held out the crook of his arm as the music began to filter in through the hallway, signaling the start of the ceremony.

“Are you ready, my beautiful bridesmaid?” You accepted his arm gratefully, unusually quiet within this newfound adoration that he was throwing at you.

“Lead the way, my handsome groomsman.” You replied, swallowing thickly. His arm was rock hard beneath your touch, an obvious indication of his and Cassian’s daily gym ventures.

The two of you walked arm in arm to the french doors that lead to the backyard wedding that Feyre and the rest of the wedding party had set up beautifully.

Cassian and Nesta led the line, the oldest Archeron dressed in a stunning dark red dress that matched Cassian’s tie. Then came Elain and Lucian in sparkling gold akin to the setting sun. Mor and Emerie followed, adorned in midnight purple. Behind them trailed Amren and Varian in their signature North Sea blue.

At the strike of the piano, Azriel gave you a small smile and stepped forward, leading you through the glass doors. The sun was blinding, but even through your squinted eyes you could see the flower arch at the alter filled with calla lilies and black violets, baby’s breath dotted in between. You and Azriel floated on a walkway of white peony petals, eyes hardly leaving each other’s, unable to stop drinking each other in.

It was as if a tension had electrified the air between the two of you the second he had set his sights on you when you meandered down the staircase. Your heart was a doldrum in your chest, begging to break through your ribs, taut and strained. As if Azriel could sense your trepidation, he squeezed your arm in a comforting touch.

He leaned down, breath against your ear, the smell of cedar encompassing your senses. “Breathe, Little Star.” You did as told, lungs expanding, nerves unfolding into the atmosphere and disappearing on the wind. Azriel’s thumb traced patterns into the skin of your forearm, soothing you further.

Your eyes left his, landing on Rhys at the altar. His eyes were alight, a slight smirk on his lips. He glanced between you and Azriel with a raised brow. A blush rose on your cheeks. His smirk widened, shoulders peacocking as though he knew he was right. Which, he usually was, you thought. You wouldn’t dwell on it–at least, not now. It was Feyre’s day, not yours.

The song came to an end as you and Azriel reached the dais, parting to reach your respected positions with you on the left and him on the right. As you turned, he grabbed your hand, extending your arm and bringing it up to press a kiss to the soft skin. Without another word he turned, leaving you stunned. Mor had to pull you to her side, her excitement palpable.

“Oh my gods!” She exclaimed, but you hardly heard her as the music started back up and the doors opened. Feyre stepped out, her black dress sparkling in the sun. Sheer fabric covered her arms and her her chest, flowing down into an intrinsic pattern of swirls similar to that of hers and Rhys’ tattoos. It was skin tight down to her knees, the skirt billowing out below, covering her black heels. She looked exquisite. It was impossible for you to take your eyes off of her, and if you were able to look around, you would notice that it was the same for everyone else.

When she reached the altar, Rhys took her hands, helping her up the marble steps with tears lining his waterline. They lined yours, as well.

Gwyn stood behind the couple, hands clasped in front of her, a smile etched onto her face. Words flowed out of her lips, Feyre and Rhys repeating every syllable as salty water flowed freely down their cheeks until the final I do.

Rhys dipped his wife in a passionate kiss, oblivious to the ovation happening around them from their closest friends. When they rose, Feyre raised her bouquet in the air, pride hanging heavy around her, a glow emanating from her skin.

Everyone rose in unison as if in prayer.

“To the new Mrs. and Mr. Carynthian!” Mor called out next to you, her voice carrying through the garden. Voices echoed after her, singing reverants to the newlyweds. As she walked back down the aisle, hand in hand with Rhys, bouquet in hand, everyone cheered as they passed. They congregated behind them, tears flowing, applause echoing through the space as if it were an ancient cathedral. 

Feyre stopped before she entered the house. She turned towards everyone, a grin plastered on her lips, a wink highlighting her stormy eyes. She threw her bouquet high up in the air. Hands reached up toward the Mother, itching to be the one to catch the bundle of violets. 

They fell gingerly into your waiting palms as if there was some kind of divine interference. You blinked slowly, locking eyes with Feyre. They sparked with mischief before her and Rhys disappeared behind the French doors. 

Your heart pulled taut again as you fiddled with the black petals, their touch akin to a feather within your fingertips. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the shadow towering over you until a hand landed on your chin, tilting your head so your eyes met Azriel’s. 

“How was that for a ceremony?” He asked, breathless, eyes wide, pupils dilated. You swallowed, chest fluttering.

“It was beautiful.” Your voice came out within less than a whisper. He smiled, one only reserved for you, as he tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear. His hand stayed there for a moment before pulling back, as if he were debating about running his fingers along the length of your cheek.

“You caught the bouquet, too.” You glanced down at the flowers in question, their fragrant smell filtering through your lungs every time you inhaled. 

“I did. I don’t know why the universe gave it to me though, I’m not even close to getting married.” The words fell out of your mouth haphazardly before you could stop them. Azriel chuckled, hands shoved into his pockets, tensing within the linen slacks.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” Heat rose from your neck to your cheeks. You hadn’t, honestly. The only person you could dream of marrying was him, yet you knew that was far fetched. Even with the energy buzzing around the two of you, the idea would fade within a week. It was just the presence of a wedding, you thought. Nothing would change. Azriel’s hazel eyes were intense, gazing directly into your soul for what seemed like eternity until Mor bumped your arm.

“Come on! We have to get ready for the reception.” You smiled at him as Mor dragged you away by the arm, your eyes never leaving his even as you disappeared behind the same doors that Feyre did. As you and your blonde friend climbed the same steps you had descended only an hour ago, the thought of marrying Azriel swirled through your mind like a tornado, wreaking havoc on any other thought that was there. Maybe it was possible. Maybe Azriel was interested in you. Only time would tell, and maybe, at the reception, the tension between the two of you would lift and reveal the secrets that were hidden beneath hardened hearts.

tags: @kayjaywrites

[ebodebo]

i have a benedict bridgerton idea for you queenie! okay so reader works for the bridgerton family and she and has a huge huge huge crush on benedict. so one night she goes to his room (for whatever reason you pick) and she hears him jerking off and she's like !!! and then he moans her name and she's even more like !!!

you can fill in the rest wink wink

Illicit Affairs

NSFW CONTENT

—benedict bridgerton x reader

—2.2k+

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Graphite pencils, quill pens, and an inkwell lay spread across the mahogany wooden table in the corner of the drawing-room, close to the bay window that overlooked the gardens. 

Several pieces of rag paper were spread across the table, and some even crumbled onto the floor, tainted by lead and ink. Judging from the messy lilacs and composition of a forest on the papers, you guessed Benedict had tried his hand at scenery drawings. 

The head maid had asked you to clean up his things, and you were, but surely there was no shame in seeing what kept the man occupied seemingly all day and all night.

You brushed your hand over the sketches, taking note of each delicately drawn petal and leaf, up to the bark on trees that looked so existent you swore you could feel the harshness of the wood along your fingertips.

As you scanned the sketches, gently picking them up, your eyes dilated as you noted a familiar face before you. Surely, it couldn't be, but it was hard to succumb to that idea when it was the same face you stared at in the mirror every day, your own.

He had drawn your eyes, lips, jaw, and even minor details, which you didn't even know anyone noticed, in his precious ink. You grasped the paper by the corner, holding it in eye view, unable to comprehend what you were seeing.

"Have you yet finished, my dear?" Your mother's voice echoed off the walls as she entered the room. You jumped back slightly at her voice, turning quickly to face her, clenching the paper behind your back.

"I…um…have to deliver a particular…thing to Mr. Bridgerton," you gab as you attempt to move past her, tucking the drawing into your apron pocket, though she's quick to grab your arm.

"Dearest, tis' late. It would be best if you did not wake him," she furrows her brows before glancing at the mess still scattered on the table and giving you a disapproving look. "You have not yet done cleaning, I see."

"I must make haste, mama. I do not wish to keep him waiting any further," you urge, putting your hand over hers to pull it off. She gives you another disapproving glance. You sigh, becoming slightly orated by her disagreeable state.

"Do you really wish for me to keep a Bridgerton waiting, mama," you raise a brow, a knowing look plastered on your face.

"I suppose—" She begins before you kiss her cheek and exit the room, heading towards the grand staircase to ascend the stairs, feeling the paper burn a hole through the cloth of your apron.

Your heart pounded as you reached the end of the stairs, clammy hand slipping off the end of the railing to rest against your side. You took deliberately slow steps down the corridor, slowly inching towards Benedict's room.

You stand in front of his door, deciding to simply slip the sketch under his door so as not to wake him. As you bend down to your knees, head close to the door, you hear something curious.

Ragged breaths slip through the crack under the door and hit your ears. You lean closer so you can hear the noises more clearly. He's muttering curses and spewing prayer after prayer—a soft 'shlick,' 'shlick,' 'shlick' repeated in a synchronized pattern. 

You had not a single clue what he was doing. Perhaps he needed assistance?

"Mr. Bridgerton," you tentatively question, though you receive no answer. The sounds in the room halt. You lean even closer.

"Mr. Bridgerton, are you in need of assistance?" You repeat a little more persistently. Again, no answer. Your hand moves to grip the door handle.

You tell yourself that if he fails to answer once more, you will go in to ensure he is alright.

"Are you quite well, sir?" You ask. Once again, there was no answer. You turn the knob quickly, pushing the door open to see him. Your eyes take in the view. Benedict was unclothed from his waist down, with a sketch in his hand. A sketch that looked eerily similar to you. His cock rests in his hand, his face gleaming with a light sheen of perspiration that made the front pieces of his hair stick to his skin.

Your eyes widen as you stumble back.

"Mr. Bridgerton, I—I am quite sorry. You seem quite…occupied," you avert your eyes awkwardly away from him. "Pardon my intrusion," your voice is unstable from embarrassment, and you feel your face heat as you turn on your heels towards the door. He quickly outstretches his hand to grasp at your own.

Your breath feels like it has been sucked from your diaphragm as you feel his skin on yours. You flick your eyes to him in an instant. His pupils are dilated. "You have not a thing to apologize for," he finally speaks, his voice steady. It was odd, considering you had just walked in on him pleasuring himself, and his cock was still out.

You pay no heed to the words coming from him as your eyes drift from his eyes to his hand on yours to his erect cock mere inches away from you. Your lips part slightly as you exhale a small sigh at the sight of such an intimate part of him that you should not be seeing, now or ever. Though, you couldn't help the knot that formed in your lower stomach at the view.

"Are you curious?" He asks, though his voice is low and rough this time around. You flick your widened eyes to him, mouth agape at his insinuation.

"Pardon me, Mr. Bridgerton, but you are truly mad," you laugh out, pulling your hand away from his and turning away from him.

"Am I?" He smoothly questions. You swivel your head towards him, letting out a huff.

"You are, sir," you confirm, your voice containing humor.

"No need for the formalities," he quips, the corners of his lips quirking at your perplexity. "Call me Benedict, I insist."

"I cannot," you shake your head as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Tell me," he inches closer to you, making sure to take in your body language. He raises his hand to reach for yours, pulling it from its place tucked under your forearm. "Is this formal?"

"Well, I—I suppose it is not," you stutter as he brings your hand to rest against his cheek, allowing you to feel his freshly shaven skin. His eyes are light, you notice. Lighter than you initially thought. 

"Then, there is no need for the formalities," he shrugs casually.

This was preposterous. You are a mere housemaid with blasphemous conceptions about someone you work for. It was unprecedented and unacceptable. Your only job was to aid the Bridgertons when they needed help, not fantasize about one of them in a compromising position.

"I am only to help you when you need assistance," you piously say, dropping your hand from his face, though he can read through you. You considered his offer; your eyes and clammy hands said it all.

"In truth, I need your assistance greatly," he tuts.

"Oh," you raise a brow, as the corner of your lip lifts to form a soft smirk. 

"You see, I am in a great deal of pain," his voice was sardonic. "Could you find it in your heart to aid in taking the ache away?"

"Pain, you say?" You bring your finger and press it on your chin, plastering a thoughtful expression. "That might constitute for my help, I suppose," you begin. "I am here to aid you in all your endeavors. Am I not?" You smile smugly, watching his eyes drift to your plush lips. 

You don't know why, but the way his eyes gloss over, taking in a feature so simple makes you feel a sense of confidence. You gently raise your hand to tilt his chin slightly, making his eyes lock with yours.

"Am I not?" You repeat, slightly more assured. His eyelids lazily close over only half of his eye as his mouth opens slightly.

"You are," he murmurs out. A self-satisfied smile spreads across your face at his compliance. You find yourself placing the palms of your hands on his chest, gently nudging him to a nearby wooden chair to sit. He leans his head back to rest his neck on the back of the chair, breathing labored at your touch.

As you move to sink to your knees between his spreading legs, out of the corner of your eye, you see another loose paper lying just next to you on the floor. You turn fully to look at it, grasping the corner of it with your hand to examine it.

It was similar to the sketch of yourself you found in the drawing room. Though, this sketch's ink seemed much more messy and tainted.

"Poor man," you flip the sketch to show him, a phony frown on your face. "You were using just this?" His eyes lazily dragged over the sketch in your hands to your face right next to it.

"I am afraid so," he tuts. You push the simple sketch into his hands before you bring your hands to his soft linen shirt, slowly slipping it off until it falls somewhere off to the side—his eyes on you the entire time.

"Do you wish to look at your sketch of me or the real me?" You ask, placing your hands on either of his thighs as you see his eyes bounce from you to the sketch and back to you.

His lip quirks as he crumbles up the sketch, tossing it to his side. You let out a light chuckle, bringing your face closer to where he aches. Your lips nearly grazed his erect cock.

"Whatever will you use now?" You breathe out, hyper-aware of his cock so close to you.

"I will find you," he breathes out, bringing his hand to grip your plump cheek. You smile before sticking your tongue out to swirl around the head softly. He hisses at the contact, moving his hand to rest in your hair.

"Dear God," he groans out as you sink him further into your mouth, flattening your tongue and tilting your head back slightly so the head slides across the roof of your mouth and skims against your teeth. His hand in your hair tightens as you suck gently as he slides in and out of your mouth.

You suck for only a short minute before you pull your mouth off, replacing it with your hand carefully and slowly pumping up and down the length of his cock.

"Is this not just satirical?" You question, paying close attention to his eyes, nearly rolling to the back of his head.

"How do you deduce?" He groans, pushing his head back further and his body up more so his cock moves more in your hand.

"In normal circumstances, I am at the mercy of your family, including you," you say, licking the seam of the lips. You continue your movements, though now they are antagonizing and slow-paced. His eyes shoot back to yours as his mouth widens, releasing ragged breaths and throaty moans.

"Though," you begin, tugging him a little bit harder as he throws his head back against the chair, "in here," his eyes peer into yours, "I am singularly and wholly in control. I have you at my mercy." 

"I quite like being at your mercy," he immediately says. You stroke him a little faster, satisfied with his response.

"Is that so, Benedict?" You inquire as he begins pushing himself into your hand faster, desperate for even more of your touch. 

Your movements continue until his body is convulsing and his mouth hangs open, moaning as he comes all over his thighs and your hand. His head hangs low as his heart palliates and his chest heaves.

You even find your own chest heaving alongside his. He picks his head up slightly to make eye contact with you, bringing his hand to brush against your bottom lip, which unbeknownst to you, was covered in blood from sinking your teeth too deep.

"Are you alright?" He questions, taking in your perplexed look. He hopes you didn't have regrets of what had just occurred since it was taboo in nature.

"I am. Are you?" You regurgitate his question, and he nods, a small smile pulling on his lips. He reaches to the table next to him to grab tissues to clean you and himself up.

Once he wipes you clean of any remnants of himself, he instructs you to make your way back before anyone notices, but not before pressing a light kiss to your temple.

You stand and turn towards the door, reaching out to grab the door handle, but before turning it, you turn your head to face his.

"Glad I could be of assistance," you murmur, not awaiting a response before you fully turn the knob and step out the door.

It may have been unbecoming. Perhaps, unlawful and unconstitutional. And substandard in every sense.

The immorality of the situation does nothing to stop you from slipping your fingers underneath your nightgown that night in your room all by your lonesome, reminiscing of the image and sound of Benedict being subdued by you, a mere housemaid. What a glorious night, indeed.

a/n: benedict is such a bottom idc also regency dirty talk is so hilarious

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 2

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: Setting your plan in motion, you flaunt your new "relationship" in Scott's face. However, you didn't think through what happens next as you find yourself in the middle of nowhere alone with Tyler. Word Count: 4401 TW: Family Conflict, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tears, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes, Reader's Past/Childhood Explained in Detail, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

Later that night at the motel Tyler had given you directions to, you were just finishing applying a fresh coat of lip gloss when you heard the hoard of storm chasers and their groupies pull up outside. 

Showtime.

Stepping back to look at yourself in the mirror, you wondered if you might be taking this a bit too far. Your sleeveless top had a deeply plunging neckline, the practically sheer material hugging every curve, while your jeans were cut so short even you felt slightly uncomfortable with how much they revealed from behind. It was far from your usual attire and you had only packed it on a last-minute whim.

This outfit would have you out of your comfort zone on the best of days when you were only hanging out with friends, but tonight you were wearing it to meet up with a guy you didn’t even really know. It was very possible that Tyler was a total perv planning on taking advantage of you the moment you climbed into his truck. Yet even as that thought crossed your mind, you dismissed it. Though you had spent less than an hour with him as the two of you discussed your plan for revenge, you didn’t think he was that kind of guy. In fact, he had only continued to impress you with how respectful and down-to-earth he seemed, contrary to your original assumptions. 

But what did you know? Hell, you already tried to figure him out once and were way off the mark. It seemed like the only way to know for certain was to trust your gut and find out for yourself.

You took one final look at yourself, grabbed your purse off the bed, and headed towards the door.

Stepping out of your motel room and peering over the railing to the ground below, you could see the Storm PAR vehicles clustered at the end near the stairs while Tyler’s truck was parked almost directly below you. That meant you would have to walk past the group of Storm PAR guys filing out of their vehicles in order to reach Tyler.

Perfect. You couldn’t have planned that better if you had tried.

Making it to the end of the walkway, you took a deep breath, held your head up high, and arranged your face into what you hoped looked like a confident—slightly flirty—facade, and headed downstairs. You paused for a second at the bottom to straighten your top and run a hand over your hair, but then you strutted forward towards the red Dodge.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw several members of the Storm PAR team stop in their tracks as they noticed you. One nudged the guy next to him and a few pointed in your direction. Only Javi seemed uneasy as he caught sight of you. His eyes quickly darted from you to one of the trucks labeled “Scarecrow” and then back to you before he turned, running his hand through his hair with a big sigh. 

Then Scott climbed out of Scarecrow.

At first, he didn’t notice you. He was looking at a tablet with his head down, but as you got closer and the murmuring got louder, he glanced up to see what the commotion was about. As he did a double-take, you watched the gum drop from his mouth and any doubts you had about this plan instantly evaporated. No longer was the smile on your face forced or the swagger in your step manufactured. Holding your head slightly higher, you let this fresh rush of adrenaline and excitement spurn you forward. 

As you reached the front of Scarecrow, Scott stepped out in front of you, blocking your way. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“What do you care?” you scoffed, placing one hand on your hip, cocking it slightly. “You told me to leave you and Storm PAR alone so I’m respecting your wishes. But since I had planned on staying for the next two weeks, I found someone else who’s interested in having me around.” You looked over your shoulder at the rest of the Storm PAR team and wiggled your fingers in their direction. “You fellas have a good night. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

You pushed past Scott, not so gently shouldering him in the chest, and continued on your way. The rest of Scott’s team snickered and “ooo”ed behind you but based on how they suddenly stopped, you guessed Scott gave them one of his death glares. 

Sashaying the rest of the way to where Tyler was leaning over the side of his truck, rummaging through a toolbox in the bed, you place one hand on his bicep. Giving it a light squeeze, you asked, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me—” Tyler lifted his head and his eyes grew wide as he saw what you were wearing. But then he blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Um, just let me finish putting these away and we’ll be all set.”

“Sounds good.” You leaned against his truck, discreetly glancing back at the Storm PAR team. Scott was staring daggers in your direction but you just pretended to examine your nails like you hadn’t noticed.

A moment later, Tyler slammed the toolbox closed and straightened up. “Done.” Grabbing his hat and pulling it low over his brow, he stepped back to have a better look at you. Letting out a low whistle, he said, “Damn, sweetheart. If I had known you would come down looking like that, I’d have dressed up for the occasion.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you flush against his side. “You look gorgeous.” 

His voice was a little louder than necessary and you know it’s all for your brother’s benefit. Yet, between his words and the feeling of his firm chest beneath his flannel shirt, you couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to your face. A small part of you secretly hoped it wasn’t all for show and he actually meant it.

You flashed him your most flirtatious smile and cooed loudly, “Thank you. But you don’t need to change a thing. You look amazing.” 

And it was true. 

Not every man pulled off the cowboy look without seeming like he was trying too hard or was going to a costume party. But Tyler must have been born in boots and a cowboy hat because you couldn’t imagine him any other way. His jeans were comfortably worn and seemed molded to his frame from constant use. His flannel long-sleeved button-down was tucked into his jeans, displaying the enormous belt buckle with “Tornado Wrangler” engraved on it. Topped off with his white cowboy hat and dark leather boots, he looked like he had just stepped off the cover of a Western romance novel. 

The heat in your face grew stronger.

Tyler squeezed you closer as he asked, “You ready to go?” You nodded so he led you over and opened the passenger door. Holding out his hand, he helped you climb in before slamming the door shut. Watching out the window as he turned around, you noticed all the Storm PAR guys staring at him. Tyler must have noticed too because he touched the brim of his hat and nodded in their direction. “Fellas…..Scott.” 

Then he walked to the driver’s side and climbed in. The truck rumbled to life, the vibrations of the powerful engine reverberating throughout your body. Tyler pulled out of the parking lot and onto the dark, empty highway before reaching up and turning on the radio. Low country music filled the quiet cab and he began to hum along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. You weren’t sure where he was headed or if he even had a destination in mind.

Now that you had properly rubbed your new companion in Scott’s face, you realized you hadn’t thought about what happened next. You were kind of in the middle of nowhere with just a few scattered diners and gas stations within a reasonable distance, and it occurred to you that you had no idea if Tyler already had plans tonight before you barged into his life. 

Shifting slightly in your seat, you spoke up. “Um, thanks again for doing this. If you wanna just drop me off at the nearest restaurant and come pick me up later, that’s fine. And take as long as you want. I need to be gone long enough for Scotty to really sit and stew in it.”

Tyler stopped humming to glance over at you for a second and then looked back at the road. “Did you really think I’d just dump you somewhere and take off?”

You blinked. That was exactly what you thought he might do. “Oh…I mean, you’re already doing me this huge favor. I don’t need to take up more of your time than necessary.”

“Sweetheart, I told you, you are doing me a favor by letting me mess with your brother. All those Storm PAR snobs are a pain in my ass, but deep down they seem like alright guys…. except for your brother. He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, and if all I have to do to rile him up is take a beautiful woman out to dinner, my life is going pretty good.”

You turned and looked out the window so Tyler couldn’t see the effect his words had on you. You still couldn’t tell if he actually meant any of the nice things he said about you, if it was all part of the ruse, or if he was the kind of guy who said those things to everyone, But whatever the reason, it was nice to hear.

Once you had composed yourself, you sat up a little straighter, turned back to him, and said, “Okay, but I’m buying dinner. Wherever you want, wherever you want. It’s the least I can do for you helping me out.”

Tyler smiled, his bright teeth shining in the darkness. “Alright, sweetheart. We’ve got a deal. I’ll take you to my favorite spot.”

Thirty minutes later you were sitting next to Tyler on the back of his truck, both of you holding burgers and iced teas as your legs dangled over the end of the tailgate. When he had first stopped for takeout before driving out into a random empty field, you had your doubts. However, you had promised to let him pick so you sat quietly as he stashed his cowboy hat on the dashboard before jumping out of the truck and jogging around to open your door. And as he had led you around to the back of the truck and your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you understood why he had brought the two of you here.

Taking another bite of your burger, you looked up at the clear sky, still in awe of the sheer number of stars that danced and sparkled above you. Growing up where you had, you always thought the night sky was black or maybe dark blue, but seeing it now in the middle of nowhere, far away from any man-made light, you realized that it was in fact a swirling mix of blacks, blues, purples, greens, and yellows surrounding millions of brilliant stars. It was stunning to see.

“So,” you asked around your mouthful of burger, “this is your favorite spot, huh? I can see the appeal.”

Tyler smiled, leaning against the side of the truck bed. “Well, it doesn’t have to be this spot specifically, but yeah. There’s something about the night sky a few hours after a storm has gone through that just can’t be beat.”

“Wait, a storm went through here today?” You looked around. It was hard to tell now in the dark, but thinking back to before Tyler had turned the truck headlights off, you did remember noticing a jagged path off to your right where the grass had been torn up. However, you hadn’t thought much about it at the time.

“Yep. We were out here right before heading to the diner where you found me. It was a pretty big one too. We got some great footage.”

“Guess I could look it up on YouTube, huh, Mr. Tornado Wrangler,” you teased, grabbing a fry from the bag next to you and tossing it at him, which he dove for and somehow caught in his mouth.

Chewing it, he grinned, “I didn’t know you knew about that.”

You shrugged. “I’ve watched a few videos. Scotty wouldn’t stop bitching about you guys and how unprofessional you were so I had to see for myself. Personally, I like your content. It’s fun.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want to find out I was going out with someone who hates what I do. Guess I owe your brother a thanks for introducing you to us…and indirectly to me.”

Just like when he had complimented your appearance, you felt a warm glow inside when he said you were going out (even though you knew that’s not what he meant…or at least, you didn’t think that’s what he meant). 

Quick to change the subject, you asked something that had been on your mind for a while. “Speaking of my brother, you said earlier that Scott was the worst kind of hypocrite…what did you mean by that?”

Hesitating, he sighed, “I don’t really know your brother—not personally—so I’m not sure how much I should say…”

You laughed. “If you’re afraid of saying something about him that might offend me, don’t. I know Scotty and I’m sure whatever it is, it's warranted.”

“Well, when you put it like that...” Tyler set his drink on the tailgate next to his leg. “I don’t know how much you know about Storm PAR but they aren’t the humanitarian group of scientists trying to help the world that they try to make themselves seem like. I haven’t figured out all the details yet but I know they’re doing some backdoor business with some not-so-great people. Yet, meanwhile, your brother looks down his nose at us Wranglers, calling us sell-outs and fame-seekers. And yeah, I do use my platform to make money but we put as much of it as we can back into these communities affected by the storms. We try to do what we can to help—he can’t say the same.”

You considered what Tyler said for a moment before nodding. “Yeah…somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Scotty’s always kind of seen the world in 1s and 0s, as an equation only he can solve. But he doesn’t really care what happens with that solution or how it might affect the people involved once he’s found it. As long as he gets the credit and compensation, he’s happy. So if the only way Storm PAR has been able to get funding is by doing something shady, I don’t doubt for a second he would do it.”

“Damn. He seems worse than I thought.” Tyler looked out into the darkness, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment. Then he asked, “If your brother’s so bad, why did you come all this way to see him?”

“He’s still my brother and I love him.” Under your breath, you added, “Even if he does make it hard to like him most of the time.”

“I wouldn’t know what that’s like—never had any brothers or sisters—and the family I do have has always been really close and supportive. But it seems to me you shouldn’t have to love someone just because you’re related. Just like you don’t have to be related to love someone like family. ”

“I know, but…it’s complicated—or maybe it’s not, I don’t know.” You pulled your knees up into your chest and rested your chin on them, sighing as you wished you had never brought Scott up in the first place.

“You wanna tell me about it?”

“What?” You tilted your head sharply to look at Tyler, your brow furrowed. “You really want to hear me moan about my childhood and how it fucked up my relationship with my brother?”

Tyler shrugged. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna, but I have been a little curious. Like, why is he treating you like shit and why are you still trying to get his attention despite that?”

“I’m not trying to…” The words felt so hollow in your mouth you trailed off instead of continuing to deny what he said.

“Tonight—us being out here together—I can see it’s not only about revenge. Maybe you don’t even realize it, but I saw the way you looked at him in the parking lot while you were waiting for me.” Tyler poked you gently with the toe of his boot. “You’re still holding out hope he’ll change his mind and ask you to join him and his team. Why?”

“You really want to know?” He nodded, staring at you patiently. Popping a french fry into your mouth, you contemplated where to start your story. Then, with a sigh, you began, “Of course, I don’t remember any of this, but I’ve heard the story enough times: When my mom was pregnant with me, there were some complications and I was born a few months early. I had to stay in the ICU for a long time and, for a while, they weren’t sure if I was going to make it. Obviously—” You held your hand in front of yourself as if to say “ta-da”. Dropping it with a thump onto the bed of the truck, you continued. “My entire life my parents referred to me as ‘their little miracle’ or ‘their angel on Earth’ because they had been so sure they were going to lose me but I didn’t realize until I left home how much my almost dying actually fucked up their relationship with both me and Scotty.”

“What do you mean?”

“In their eyes, I was this precious little gift that was almost taken from them, but at the same time, there was Scotty. Their other kid. Nothing had happened to change how they saw him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we have great parents who love us both deeply but they treated us very differently.” 

“How so?” Tyler asked, tilting his head slightly. 

You shifted on the hard metal. It felt a little strange spilling your guts to this random guy you had only met earlier that day, but what felt even more bizarre was how invested and engaged he seemed in what you were saying. He stared at you as if you had his complete attention, his expression curious yet encouraging, silently urging you to continue. 

Clearing your throat, you said, “Scotty was expected to get perfect grades and place first on the track team and help around the house and have an after-school job on top of all of his advanced classes and pay for all his own things. I, on the other hand, was given a car for my fifteenth birthday—about a week after I was nearly expelled from school for multiple counts of cheating and truancy. I couldn’t even have a learner’s permit at that time! My parents gave me literally anything I asked for and let me do whatever I wanted no matter how much I screwed up all while riding Scotty’s ass to ensure he was perfect. In their eyes, he could do no right and I could do no wrong…and I did a lot of wrong.” 

“But how your parents treated either of you wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t change that.”

You gave a half-hearted shrug. “Maybe. But I didn’t have to take full advantage of it either. Once I realized I could do whatever I wanted without consequences, I ran wild with it. I partied, went on extravagant trips with my friends that my parents paid for, ignored my curfew, brought boys home with me to spend the night right down the hall from my parents, almost flunked out of school. I know it must sound so stupid but while it was happening…” 

Shaking your head, you stared down at your hands, tears beginning to blur your vision. “I was so absorbed in my life, I didn’t see how differently Scott was being treated or what it was doing to him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Scotty is still Scotty, even back then. He looks out for himself before anyone else and the only emotions he really knows how to convey are pissed off or sarcastic. Yet I can’t help but wonder if he’s only like that because of how unfair things were.”

You paused for a moment to wipe your eyes and collect yourself, then cleared your throat before continuing. “It wasn’t until I moved away to college and got some distance from my parents that I looked back and realized how messed up it all was. And I changed. I stopped asking them for anything, I got a job and worked my ass off to pay for school, I began aceing all of my classes…but I still haven’t been able to make it up to Scotty. I was hoping this trip would be that chance. That I could finally show him I’ve grown and changed. That I understand why he may be hurt and try to heal those wounds. But he wouldn’t even hear me out.” 

You scoffed bitterly, burying your face in your hand. “So to show him how much I’ve matured, I came up with this childish plan to throw you in his face. Once again, I thought I could just get what I wanted without thinking about how it might affect my brother or what he would want.” Letting out a deep sigh, you collapsed back into the bed of the truck, staring at the stars dancing high above you. “I guess deep down I’m still that spoiled, self-centered brat I’ve always been.”

The truck jostled beneath you and, a second later, Tyler was lying down too, his face directly across from yours. Without breaking eye contact, he reached out and took your hand. “I might have only just met you, but the girl I’ve seen isn’t anything like the one you described growing up. And if that was how you used to be, you should be proud of how much work you’ve done to become this new version of yourself. Change is one of the hardest things a person can do. It's not an overnight process and we all backslide from time to time. So, yeah, maybe us going out just because you knew it would infuriate your brother isn’t the most mature thing you could have done—” you snorted and Tyler smiled before reaching over to brush a tear off your cheek, his fingers making your skin tingle as they swept across it “—but Scott deserves some blame in this too. Maybe it wasn’t fair your parents treated you both differently, but that doesn’t give him the right to behave the way he did today. He’s a grown-ass adult and should have acted like it instead of throwing a hissy fit when he saw you. So you need to stop blaming yourself for his actions.”

“Why are you being so kind to me?” you muttered, a few more tears slipping down your face. “You don’t even know me.”

“I think I’m beginning to.”

“And?” You tried to chuckle but it came out sounding more like a sniffle. There was no telling what Tyler thought when he looked at you right now—face stained with tears, nose running, eyes bloodshot and watery. You were so embarrassed you had let yourself devolve into such a complete mess in front of him and you were sure he was regretting ever meeting you. “You like what you see?”

Surprisingly, instead of retreating, his hands reached out and cupped your face, his fingers stroking soft circles across your cheeks as he wiped more tears away. “More and more by the minute.”

That broke you.

Whatever composure you had been managing to cling to shattered, and you fell apart. It wasn’t just his words that did it, it was the complete sincerity in his voice that you felt down to your soul. He wasn’t just trying to comfort you or make things better. He had listened intently to every word you said, heard about the side of yourself you tried so hard to forget, and still saw something he liked. Something he said you should be proud of.

Until that moment, you hadn’t realized how much you had needed to hear those words. Your parents never saw themselves as treating you and Scott differently so they couldn’t understand why you wanted to become independent of them or see all the progress you had made while making that happen. And Scott was never around so he hadn’t seen how hard you had worked either. Maybe that was what this trip was really about after all. Maybe, on some level, you had needed Scott to tell you he was proud of who you had become. But he hadn’t even tried to see it. Yet Tyler—this man you had met only hours earlier—had given you all the time and attention you needed to show him how far you had come and he was proud of it. 

For a moment, you cried, laying alone on your side of the truck bed under the Oklahoma night sky. But then, you heard Tyler whisper, “Come here, sweetheart” and felt him gently pulling you towards him. 

Once he had closed the distance between you, he positioned you so your head was resting on his shoulder, one of his arms nestled underneath you while the other held your hand, his thumb circling the back of your hand just as it had your cheek seconds before. He smelled earthy yet clean, almost like that brief moment just before a rainstorm. It was so perfectly him, that you couldn’t help but smile through your tears. 

As you settled against him, you felt his lips ghost briefly against your temple before he rested his chin on the top of your head. And, laying here in this stranger’s arms, the sound of the wind drifting over the plain blending with the beat of his heart against your ear, you had never felt more safe or more seen in your life.

Part 3 coming 8/26!

[thevoidstaredback]

The tale tell signs of the Batmobile pulling into the Cave reverberated for nearl a minute before it even pulled into the garage. Once parked, the driver side door opened and NightBat (Nightwing as Batman) got out before closing the door.

"B!" Red Robin waved, "Welcome back! How'd it go?"

Not even surprised that Robin had gotten tired of babysitting the Leaguers, NightBat walked to join the group. "As usual. Batwoman could've handled herself."

Everyone on comms ignored the woman's indignant call from where she and Selina had joined Barbra and Jason in the Clocktower.

"Bats!" Green Lantern called, "You left us with Robin, right?"

"Mhmm."

"This isn't Robin! He says he's been here the whole time, but he hasn't because he's not Robin!"

NightBat was trying very hard to keep his amusement to himself. It didn't help that he had people laughing in his ear. He could tell RR and Spoiler were having the same issue. "Red Robin."

Green Lantern threw his hands in the air. "I give up!"

"Seriously, man," Spoiler said, concern lacing her tone, "If you're too paranoid or you aren't feeling too well, we can cut this short."

Wonder Woman glared at the man. "No, thank you, we are fine. You were showing us the med bay?"

"Right this way!" Red Robin guided them to the large room that wouldn't look out of place in a hospital. It was closer to looking like a mix between an ER, a Post OP, a Pre OP, and a waiting room. Somehow, it worked. Somehow, it was better than the one on the Watchtower.

Martian Manhunter took the lead in this room. "This is better equipped than the Watchtower's own medbay," he turned to NightBat, "Why is that?"

"Oh, oh!" Spoiler jumped in place, "I can answer that!" When everyone's attention was on her, she said, "It's because we're all human."

"Excuse me?" Superman quirked an eyebrow.

"Eloquently put, Spoiler," Robin smacked her arm, "Show a bit of decorum, will you? Honestly."

"Again?!" Green Lantern shreaked. He was ignored.

"It's true," she shrugged, "Anyway, I gotta bounce." She turned to jog out of the room, "It was nice meeting you all!" she shouted just as the door closed behind her. After a minute, the sound of her bike revving and fading told them all she had left.

The tour of the large med bay soon ended and Robin led the group back up to the smaller med bay. It was outfitted as a small clinic and not an ER, a few chairs being the only hint at a seating area. It was, like the larger one, also completely enclosed in bullet resistant glass.

Taking seats at the meeting table, none of the visiting Justice Leaguers noticed Signal taking his suit and leaving to finish Batwoman's and Catwoman's patrol, nor did they notice Cass sneaking Spoiler's suit back into its case before she took the stairs up to the Manor. Tim had also managed to put his suit back where it belonged before going back to the Manor with Cass.

Flash was the only one not sitting, having too much anxious energy to be able to sit still. So, he wandered around the upper area, careful not to touch anything. He was, however, looking very closely at everything. Something just felt...off. "Wait a minute," he stopped the small talk at the table, "Where did those books come from?"

"What are you talking about?" Green Arrow asked.

"The books, on the table! They weren't there when we got here!"

Robin made his judgement known from behind his mask. "There have always been books on this table, Flash."

"No, there haven't!"

"I think you should sit down," Superman stood to usher his fellow hero over to the chairs, "You're obviously anxious about something-"

Flash didn't let himself be touched, focusing on every little detail now. "And, the suits!" he ran down to the displays, "Two of the suits that were missing earlier are here now! And a different one is missing!"

Green Lantern and Aquaman jumped over the railing to join the Flash. "He's right," the Atlantian announced.

"What's going on here, Bats?" Green Arrow asked as he, too, jumped the railing.

Robin muttered, "We have stairs," under his breath as he followed the adults in jumping over the railing to the lower level.

"I have so many questions." Green Lantern added on.

Wonder Woman stood at the front of the group, "Why did you change your mind to invite us here?"

NightBat raised an eyebrow under the cowl. "I didn't. The others who operate in Gotham did. I just happen to be in charge."

"And how many people, exactly, operate in Gotham?" Superman asked.

Robin was the one to give a non-answer. "How many do you think?"

"This isn't funny, Bats," Cyborg glared. "What's going on."

NightBat said nothing. Instead, he turn away from the group with a swish of his cape and headed to the locker rooms next to the training area.

Now the only Gotham vigilante there, Robin was the focus of the JL's attention. Wonder Woman knelt in front of him to talk. "Will you tell us what's going on?"

Robin scoffed, crossed his arms, and tilted his head up to look down his nose at her. "Do not be so patronising. We invited you here to prove that we do, in fact, trust you all, and you have accused us of trying to trick you?" He expertly hid his satisfaction at the guilt that took over the adults' faces. "Perhaps we should not have let you come here." He turn with just as much dramatics as both Batman and Nightwing. "Come, I'll-"

"What're you all still doing here?" Batman glared as he came out from the locker rooms, several things in hand.

"I was just showing them to the Zeta Tubes." Robin answered.

"Hn." Batman grunted, walking back to the upper level first. The visiting heroes followed him sullenly. Robin took up the rear. Nightwing chose that moment to ride back into the Cave.

"Where you all going?" He called from the garage as he parked his bike.

"Robin was just showing them out," Batman didn't raise his voice above what it normally was, even as he walked away from everyone and into the less echo-y chamber of the lab.

Nightwing pouted. "Boo," He was quick to join them on the upper level. "Why don't you pack it in for the night, Baby Bat? I'll take these guys home." His wink to the adultier adults was not hidden by his mask. How does he do that?

Robin nodded. "Very well." He promptly turned and left for the locker rooms.

"C'mon," Nightwing ushered, "B's run outta patience. I'm glad he lasted this long, though! It took forever to get him to let me and Robin show you around! And, when Spoiler heard we had company, she just had to come say 'hi'. Though, I'm sad you couldn't meet Agent A or O or Signal."

"Who?" Superman asked.

Nightwing laughed, the sound echoing in the Zeta Room. "Agent A's the one who makes sure we're all still alive at the end of the day. O is our eye in the sky, our ear to the ground, our guy in the chair. She knows everything. Nothing happens in Gotham without her knowing. And Signal is our newest addition. He's the only meta allowed to operate in the city, proven by the bat on his costume. He's our daytime hero, though, so he's out on patrol right now. A shame you couldn't meet him."

"And Batwoman?" Wonder Woman mentioned as she stepped up to the Zeta Tubes.

"Who?" Nightwing joked. The others didn't find it amusing. "Tough crowd," he mumbled. "Batwoman doesn't normally work with us. She's B's cousin. She's usually with the Birds of Prey, but she decided to come help us out for a bit."

"Birds of Prey?" Flash wondered.

"A story for another time, I'm afraid," Nightwing sighed, "The Zeta's are all set for the Watchtower. It was nice having you guys here, even though I had to leave so soon after you get here."

Cyborg patted his shoulder. "It's alright, shit happens. Is everyone at the bank alright?"

Nightwing nodded, "Yeah, no one got hurt."

"That's good."

With the final word said, the eight visiting heroes left Gotham. Nightwing was careful as he left, resetting the traps and security measures.

"And that's a wrap!" Jason called over comms.

Barbra took over just long enough to say, "Movie night at Wayne Manor!" before Selina cut everyone's comms.

Part 6 Part 8

[passionwillow]

The team talks about how they lost their virginity and then when it gets to the reader she tries to nervously change the subject while Gibbs is watching silently from the stair railing observing

First Times

Smut! 18+, age gap

Tags: @ilovemark1951

- It wasn’t a secret Tony was open about his-.. Sex life.

- How the hell the conversation started, you couldn’t be sure. But Tony, Ziva and McGee were all talking about their “first times”.

- Tony was the most open and excited to discuss it, reliving his youth and giving all the details.

- Ziva was more than happy to tease him and talk about her own experience; McGee was a little more shy but happy to prove Tony wrong about his virginity status.

- But when Tony asked you about your first time, you panicked. You were the only one of your friends who was a virgin.

- It wasn’t for lack of trying, it was lack of interest. No one had shown much desire to take you to bed, and the little you tried ended in failure.

- You tried your best to pull everyone’s attention back to work, pulling out the information you dug up in the lab with Abby about the most recent case.

- No one was aware of Gibbs standing on the stairs above everyone, his eyes curious as they followed you. He’d heard the entire conversation, and was more than surprised by your reaction.

- Gibbs’s Rule #12 - Never date a coworker.

- Which was why he never pursued you. You were much younger and, in his opinion, out of his league. He found you gorgeous, smart, funny, and absolutely fascinating.

- The fact you were a virgin was surprising, to put it mildly. He would have thought men were throwing themselves at you. Regardless, he wanted to change that. Workplace rules be damned.

- Which was how you ended up here: Gibbs in your apartment, his lips locked to yours as his hands cupped your cheeks, pressing you back into the nearest wall.

- He’d come over on a whim, on the off chance you’d be willing to let him take you. And you were oh so willing.

- He took his time guiding you upstairs, eyes studying your every move as he undressed you. His hands caressed and admired your curves, teased your breasts and nipples before laying you down.

- He didn’t bother taking off his clothes, not until you were naked and practically begging.

- His let his mouth explore every possible inch of skin: licking and sucking at your breasts, biting and nibbling at your flesh before kissing down your soft tummy, practically drooling as he finally slid between your thighs.

- Your skin felt like it was on fire from all the attention. Your cheeks were hot, your toes were curled in bliss, and the sheets beneath you were snagged on your nails.

- He kept sweet talking you and coaxing you through it, asking if you were comfortable and okay before committing sins between your thighs.

- When he finally undressed and eased himself into you, it felt like the world was cracking open beneath you.

- He took his time with you, praising and showering you with kisses and affection as he took you bit by bit. He knew exactly how to please you, how to coax out climax after climax until you were shaking and falling apart.

- Part of you wondered if he’d leave after. Take what he’d been dreaming of and then disappear, but he didn’t. He cleaned you off, crawled right under the covers and pulled you to his chest.

[tojivu]

would u do satoru who actually has six eyes with the reader scenario? it could be anything, like the reader going through his baby pictures and cooing at how cute he looked with one set of eyes open, but the other two werent. or comforting him cuz people think they're freaky. anything fluffy :D

# SIX ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note stop this is so cute.. i changed the prompt a bit i hope u don’t mind. hope this isn’t too long for your taste as well zzz

✰ — cw / tags satoru with literally six eyes , sfw , gn!reader , use of pet names ‘baby’ etc , briefly proof read ( i tried )

✰ — playing n side by steve lacy.

✰ — word count 1.2k

✰ — part two click here.

it was a lazy sunday morning when you decide to wake up early. it was unusual of you, because you usually woke up later than your boyfriend—but you remembered the state of your shared apartment and knew something had to be done.

it was a mess. a complete and utter disarray.

moving in week was finally done, at least technically. some of your stuff was still in cardboard boxes. you knew gojo had some unpacking to do as well, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt to help him—you knew about the long hours he endured.

you’re still groggy when you make your way down the stairs, holding onto the railing for support. you rub your eyes until the sunlight doesn’t hurt anymore—but you glance into your living room and see the piles of tiny boxes, full of trinkets from your previous house and it hurts your eyes all the same.

you yawn and sit yourself down on the couch, scissors in hand and ready to take on the workload. you meticulously cut the tape sealing a particularly damaged cardboard box, deciding you would eliminate the smaller stuff first; gojo would wake up sooner or later and you certainly weren’t going to carry the bigger boxes by yourself.

you turn the flaps over and the sunlight spilling in through the living room windows help visualise how dusty it really is—you don’t think it’s yours. the box must’ve not been opened for quite some time.

it’s a photo frame you find in the box, but there’s way too much dust for you to really see anything. you bring the frame to the kitchen, grabbing a wet rag and wiping the plastic film to the best of your ability. you think this must have been hidden from you on purpose, you’ve never seen this photo in your life—no picture of satoru escapes you, after all. he must’ve not wanted you to see it.

it’s your boyfriend as a child, at a strawberry farm. he’s wearing a sunhat and a basket of berries are being shown off to the camera; his smile undoubtedly huge, and his eyes are glistening in the sunlight the hat failed to deter—all six of them.

you’re wondering why he ever ought to hide this photo from you. you knew about his eyes, and you’ve made it clear that you loved them. though, you can’t really speculate—gojo’s told you briefly about his childhood, but not really in detail. “i didn’t really like showing them when i was young,” was all you got out of him when you asked about his middle school days.

you’re startled when you hear a yawn coming from the stairs, and you shift your gaze from the photo to gojo—adult sized gojo with only one pair of eyes open—who’s making his way towards you. quick reaction time enables you to hide the photo behind you, just as gojo enters the kitchen.

“good morning baby,” he says while rubbing his eyes. he plants a kiss on your forehead, then blinking slowly at you in an attempt to wake himself up completely. “what’re you doing up? it’s 8 a.m.”

you scoff at him, jokingly. “what, am i not allowed to wake up at 8 a.m?”

gojo lets out a chuckle, his voice still raspy. “didn’t say that.”

you smile up at your boyfriend, who’s eyes are still not fully open yet. the slits on his cheek and forehead from his other two pairs of eyes further intrigue you—perhaps, if you dig a little more… would you be able to find photos just like that one?

you feel sneaky, looking through your boyfriend’s things without his permission. of course, you couldn’t help yourself—how could you? his smile looks priceless.

and so, something in you is determined to find every single one.

your mental scheming is stopped, though, when gojo makes a loud gasping noise. you’re snapped back into reality, and you realise he can see the photo frame you’ve hidden behind your back. “y/n!”

gojo is fully awake now, his expression a mix of shock and embarrassment. “how did you find that? i swear i put all those boxes away in my office. . .”

you point a finger at him, accusingly, with your eyebrows furrowed for dramatic effect. feeling offended, you gasp as well. “so you did try to hide them from me!”

he lets a laugh slip through his lips, much too flustered that this is how you discover his childhood photos. he shakes his head, “i’m sorry, y/n. didn’t think it would matter much.”

“why did you hide them? is it because of your eyes?”

gojo nods his head, taking a closer look at his younger self. “they were a bit weird for a six year old to have, no?”

you gasp again, hurt by his statement. the first thought you had when you found the photo was how adorable his eyes were, the different tints of blue shining in the sun—and the missing teeth which were shown so proudly in his smile. how happy he must’ve been to smile like that.

“i love them, ‘toru.”

it was always heartening to hear that coming from you.

when gojo satoru first met you, he was unsure if you’d be weirded out—like how everyone else was when he was younger. he’d learned how to keep the pairs on his forehead and cheeks closed in his teenage years, so it was muscle memory by the time he knew you.

the first time you saw them was a few years ago, an unremarkable tuesday morning: at least that's what you thought, but to satoru—it was everything.

you awaken next to him, and gojo's perplexed. why you were staring at his face so intently? was his bed hair that bad?

“i didn’t know you could open all of them.”

gojo internally cursed himself, thinking it was game over—you’d probably tell him you’ve got to go and never call him back; but you did.

you called him and told him you missed him the following day. that sweet voice of yours he was so relieved to hear.

as a child, people would often call gojo strange looking—his piercing blue eyes already made him intimidating. people would barely look at him; so when there were six of them, it was even harder to make conversation. you guessed a long time ago that that was why he started wearing shades.

people could never look at him directly, but with you—it was a different problem altogether. you just couldn’t stop looking, always telling him how pretty his eyes were. he would find it hard to believe with the way he’d grown up, but it’s undeniable he feels comfortable showing it to you; sometimes feeling all right to go out without his sunglasses on.

“yeah, i know.” gojo’s smile is soft. he leans down and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his jaw on your shoulder and swaying you left to right. “you tell me that all the time.”

it’s cheesy sunday mornings like this you look forward to.

it’s been an hour since you’ve woken up and gojo insisted on helping you finish cleaning—it’s pointless, though: because you two end up on the couch, looking at childhood photos of yourselves—with the occasional embarrassing story time.

at the end of the day, nothing is clean and you two are still on the couch: except gojo is snoring and you’re on top of him with your face buried in his chest, trying to fall asleep despite the inconsiderate noise—photo albums sprawled out on the coffee table.

211023 — this is so bad i’m sorry… TT

[lunarmango]

Flickering Lights

Demon Alastor x Human reader fic? ON IT. I'm so siked to make this a series and I hope who reads this enjoys this as much as I do. I wanna get into writing. (I don't write, I draw) and I was thinking of making a longer fic, the details were so hard to piece together. I really enjoy the concept of demon Al with human reader. So here we go!

Word Count: 2k

TW: None for now? Pretty mild stuff haha.

Chapter One: Moving in

New Orleans, Louisiana

1946

Where wandering spirits were said to roam, walk and explore more frequently, being an area where people would find it easier to communicate with them, or so you were told. You were convinced it's utter nonsense to be completely honest. The whole notion of spirits was so far fetched you just couldn't bring yourself to even fathom them. Though not opposed to being proved wrong.

It's been years, saving for a house. Your apartment was small, cheap and far too crowded with furniture and items you just can't let go of. From a suffocating apartment to a house. You were practically buzzing from excitement. Like, literally almost shaking.

A new chapter in your life.

When you walked in, you suck air through your teeth in anticipation, the cool air hitting your teeth invigorating you, fingers fumbling with the old metallic keys that jingled in response, finally able to slot the correct one in the door and push open the dark wood hastily, the hinges swinging and the door practically flying.

You winced at the loud thud when it slammed on the white painted brick wall. Taking a few deep breaths, you decided it was best if you didn't wreck your new house on the first day. You think you would actually cry if you did, and you were not willing to test that theory. Checking the wall where the door hit with a small grimace of anticipation, you close the door behind you, relieved to see the wall is fine, your face relaxing again as you take yet another deep breath through your nose.

House tour!

Kicking off your shoes at the entrance, you begin wandering from room to room, you take in the spacious kitchen and living room. Though it lacked a certain homey touch. But you were aware why. There was no furniture after all. You had a vision for the house. Just had to wait 3 days before you could make it happen and the furniture would arrive. You had big plans, that did not pair well with your lack of patience. You already had multiple shitty sketches of how you roughly wanted each room to look. The furniture is all you need, it'll arrive soon enough. Hopefully.

You're going to need to find a way to pass the time.

First things first, you still haven't explored the upstairs! Running your hand gingerly along the wooden railing as you hop upstairs, the hard floor creaking occasionally under your feet every few steps, you take a sharp left and step into the master bedroom. It was massive. You feel a grin etch at your face as you peek your head inside. You're definitely getting a king sized bed. With a nod you left the room, confident you were going to be a pro napper at least a month within getting your new bed.

You open the door to the bathroom. Spacious enough, room for a decent sized tub and shower. Although you never really saw the point in baths if you wanted to get clean. You step out and look into the spare bedroom. Maybe a potential study? That or the attic. You always were sure that the environment can heavily affect the quality of ones work.

Was such a big house going to make you feel small? Possibly alone? You scoffed to yourself. Who cares when you have such a house?! Expensive too. Ho ho you were going to have fun "subtly" showing off this house to your friends.

With a quick, dismissive peek to the spare room you turn on your heels, going up the stairs to the attic with cautious steps, the worn wooden panels making such loud noises in retaliation to your steps that you were afraid that they would give in. Your hand gently opens the rattly metallic doorknob and open the door, squinting only to see a small switch on the side of the door. You flick it on and hear the buzz of a weak warm light turning on above you, fully illuminating the room the best the small warm light can.

First thoughts? Dusty. Very Dusty. Every box, book and the long desk and chair at the end of the room practically black and gray from the abundance of dust. A sigh escaping your lips, realising just how long you were going to be cleaning for, a task you were not mentally prepared for yet. Making your way to the desk, you approached a large wooden desk, most of the surface blocked by a large panel with knobs, switches, dials and little doodads that slide up and down. The sliding doodads having small, mini light bulbs at the top of each. You look at the corners and edges of the panel, looking for an on switch or something.

Nothing.

It was probably unplugged?

Nevertheless, as foreign as the panel seemed to you, a surge of determination drives through you to figure it out. It seemed expensive. Whoever used this probably cared deeply for it, the text of the brand faded, showing the love and use the panel had been provided with. If it was so well used, you had to figure out just why it was loved so much.

To begin, you had to figure out just what it is. Turning it on seemed like the obvious option.

Crouching under the table to look to where the cables lead, you notice a microphone on the floor. Wrapping your hand just above the flat base of the microphone, feeling the coolness of the metal and the sandy texture of the dust between your skin and the metal, you try to lift it. You were suprised to find your hand faltering slightly at the sheer weight of the microphone, dropping forward onto your knees to provide a better position to pick it up in, using both hands to stand up and set it in front of the panel with more ease. It wasn't that heavy. But you didn't want to drop it. Wasn't this supposed to have headphones...?

Once more, you go down on all fours, looking under the desk, when no sign of somewhere to turn on the panel or headphones appears, you circle round to the back of the desk, finding a wire and an unplugged plug. With a small huff that caused far too much dust to fly in the air, triggering a cough from you. Slotting the plug in the panel above you hums to life and flickers on once more. A small hushed yes emerges from you as you slowly stand up, brushing the dust from your knees, then your hands.

You walk back in front of the desk, flipping some random switches for the hell of it, satisfying metallic clicks and clanks as a result of your tampering. Then proceeding to tap the microphone, you blow on it to rid it of the pesky dust, stepping back to let the dust fall.

You took a moment to appreciate just how expensive this radio setup must have been, so big and complicated it made your mind whirl just trying to decipher what each control did. You brush away some more of the dust from the panel, running your finger between the buttons, trying to look for labels, or some sort of guidance, only to find them worn out, white writing so etched and scratched at on the metallic reddish-brown surface that it was unreadable. A soft smile tugging at your lips in realisation of just how loved this equipment really was.

You’ve seen the basics of what a radio setup should look like, without having to remember the separate into bitty details of the control. Panels, a microphone. Where were the headphones? You look below the desk, bending at an uncomfortable angle to the shelves situated under the left of the desk.

Nothing.

Not like you could broadcast anything even if you wanted to. Why do they use the headphones? To listen to the sound of their own voice? How proud and snobby must one be to love their voice that much? An audible scoff from you. You know you wouldn’t be able to put up with anyone of the sort.

Using both hands, stabilising the microphone properly, you pick it up, with a smart smirk, looking at the empty wall you begin speaking to your imaginary viewers, mocking the accent radio people had to use to the best of your ability. “Hello my dear viewers! Welcome back to my boring ass show, talking about shit that probably serves as background noise” A snicker escapes your lips as your smirks stretches wider in amusement, gently putting the microphone back down.

Eager to make your made up show more believable, you move away from the desk, eyes scanning the worn wooden panels of the floor. Remembering you looking earlier you let out a hefty sigh. Were you really going to spend hard earned money for a few minutes of make-believe mucking about like a child?

Oh definitely.

Lost in thought, still staring at the floor, chuckling in thought a distinct noise snaps you out of the haze of your mind.

Click

You look over your shoulder to the direction of the noise, the desk, trying to place the exact location.

Another click

It was from the panel? You turn back to the panel, looking down on the panel as the clicks increase in frequency, switches being flicked, dials turned. A particular pattern caught your eye being the fact that during the abundance of alterations to the controls of the panel, no knob or slide was altered twice, almost if it was altering itself the clicking now a steady rhythm. What a ridiculous idea, as clueless as you were about the technology you were almost certain it wasn’t that advanced.

The clicks slowly come to a stop, one last slider slowly going upwards to a certain line before it stops completely.

“Eager to hear my voice?” You mutter under your breath, a dial slowly turning, one of your eyebrows quirking up in response. Spirits and ghosts don’t exist.

There’s always a what if.

What if they do exist?

What if you’re the first to fully realise this?

What if you’re living a ghost story?

After all, things moving on their own in the dusty attic of an old house was never a good sign.

Yeah no who were you kidding.

But just to make sure.

You bend at the waist, your lips as inch away from the crosshatched metal of the top of the microphone.

“Can you hear me?” You say in a teasing low purr, holding back a laugh in your lungs, helping to alleviate the tension you’re beginning to feel rising up in you, pressing in on the sides of your head. Jokes always help. Well. Not always. However you can’t exactly help it either.

A flicker of the small light bulbs, emitting a warm light above the sliding controls. You couldn’t help but still be sceptical. Your voice now has a newfound edge, the whole situation making you uncomfortable.

“You- can?”

Another flicker from the same small light bulbs.

A nervous laugh rumbling from your chest.

You had to figure this out, because you wouldn’t put going insane past you. Maybe a break from the attic would be good. Probably buy some headphones. As unsettling as the panel is, having the set incomplete irks you unnecessarily, and it was an enigma you couldn’t help but feel determined to figure out.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

If I was filthy rich...I'd buy this gilded age, limestone, Beaux Arts 1910 mansion on the Upper East Side of New York City. I posted it once before, so I guess it's hard to sell a home that's this expensive, (one of the hazards of being too rich, I guess). 7bds, 12ba, 18,000 sq ft, $54.5m. Open the gilded front door and step inside.

Love the rounded walls in the foyer. What is the stuff they have on the walls? I would have to take that down- it looks like some kind of carpeting.

But look at the magnificent marble stairs. I wonder what that is on the side- maybe it was a fountain or something at one time.

Carved marble and sculpted newel post.

Isn't that a lovely staircase? This home is 8 floors! 6 are above ground.

Details of the railing.

The sitting room is nice and light.

Look at the details!

This home is a work of art.

I would glide thru these room in a freakin' ball gown.

You can tell that this was all hand-sculpted.

I don't even know what level we're on.

The walls in this room have black & gold marble wainscoting and the wood panels have intricately carved crown molding.

I can see why this home is so expensive.

The artistic detail is crazy.

So beautiful.

This is all they show of it. And, the description says that the sale has to be approved by the court, so it must be an estate sale or something.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/15-E-63rd-St-New-York-NY-10065/344214383_zpid/?

[materlux]

Fragile Flower.

Okay so, I came across two artworks on pinterest where Argenti just looks so pathetic, and I felt inspired. So, this is very self indulgent, the reader is meant to be perceived as Idrila the aeon of beauty, but reader is gender neutral (refered to as you).

Enjoy, I guess, I enjoyed this.

Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist

The room is made up of white marble floors and walls, and a detailed and ornate ceiling held up by pillars of the same material. The throne you sit on is made of stone and wood, a red cushion covers the cold wood. Red fabric is draped along the walls and over the windows, warm sunlight scatters across the white floors and walls that cast a blinding gleam, like sunlight on snow. Red roses grow in alcoves under the windows and behind the throne, they lean in your direction and bow under your stare.

   Before you stands a knight, honoured in your title and searching your name. He is clad in well polished silver and gold armour, decorated with roses and carvings alike. His hair is a piercing red that puts your roses to shame, they know this and turn away at his presence. His eyes are pale and green, a small dot of magenta makes up his pupils, it is an artistic contrast, one you appreciate. His skin is fair and clear, unmarked despite his duty as a knight, you wonder how he managed such a feat.

You beckon him closer, he hesitates and stops before the steps to where you sit. You tilt your head at him, he fails to meet your eyes, you laugh quietly to yourself. His shoulders stiffen and he takes a shaky breath, your laugh quiets and you look down at him.

“Please, come up and stand before me,” you beckon gently. He moves up the steps slowly, taking great care in every step, unlike you every sound he makes echoes across the walls. The temple does not dare to mimic a sound you make, just as the roses bow for you and the sun gently strokes your skin, never burning. 

   Once he reaches the top of the stairs, he kneels down and bows before your feet, the tips of his bangs barely graze the skin of your thighs. His breath hitches and he lets out a quiet apology, if he expects you to condemn him, he is going to be surprised. You suppose you can’t be too surprised by such an expectation, it is rare that anything touches your skin, only the finest silk made out of stars may graze your body.

   “There is no need to apologise.” You reach down and gently run a finger along his bangs, moving them aside to see his face. His shoulders stiffen, but his hands remain at his sides, he doesn’t look up. You think it’s a shame his eyes are covered by his lashes, you wish to see them.

   “Look at me, please” you ask gently. He hesitates and takes shaky breath after shaky breath, he raises his head before he raises his eyes. He goes silent the moment he locks eyes with you, for a moment you worry he’s stopped breathing, until he takes in a stuttered breath and looks away from your eyes.

   Tears like pearls line his eyes, you worry you may have pushed a limit. Mayhaps his mortal eyes couldn’t handle the godly gleam of your own, you hadn’t considered that. A tear runs down his cheeks, more follow and they drip down onto the cold floor, the walls mimic the sound like rain. Your face saddens and you reach out, gently you cup his cheeks and rub at his tears. By the way his breathing stutters, his eyes widen and his mouth opens slightly, you’d think his heart had stopped. The way he barely reaches for his heart and the choked sob he lets out, certainly don’t help this conclusion.

   “Oh my knight, please, it was not my intent to sadden you,” you apologies.

   “But my flower, you do not sadden me,” he gasps out between breaths and quiet sobs, it all echoes along the walls, the temple mocking him.

   “Then why do you cry?” You tilt your head, flowers flow down your hair like lilies in a stream. He breathes in deep, an attempt to compose himself you suppose. His hand flattens along his chest, and he looks up at you, still avoiding your eyes.

   “I have dedicated my life to following you.” He breathes every word. “I have searched for you across the cosmos.” His features soften. “I have met many beautiful souls,” he says these words with sincerity. “I believed you to be just as beautiful as the cosmos, but now I see you are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” His voice begins to waver, his words of flattery echo off the walls, and they resonate in your chest and a gentle smile crosses your face. “I am quite overwhelmed, why would such beauty as yourself ever let a mortal like myself look upon you?” His question is one you expected, you do not allow many to look upon you, even the stars you weave into fabric to not dare to let their glow gleam on your skin.

   You smile down at him and gently stroke his cheeks, his skin glistens in the sunlight and the stars in his hair are highlighted by the light.

   “Because you, my knight, are exceptionel.” His skin warms under your fingers, you giggle softly as his cheeks turn red at your praise. “One as beautiful as you, who rivals my own roses, belongs nowhere else but in my temple.” His face nearly matches his hair, and he attempts to hide in your hands. You wonder if he realises what he’s doing, or if it’s involuntary.

   “Your words are too kind, I for one have never had a way with words, combat is more suited for a knight such as myself.”

   “It is a wonder your skin has stayed so clean and unmarred, truely a feat I admire.” While your praise is honest, a part of you is only voicing it to watch him squirm and blush. Quite quickly, maybe even alarmingly quick, the battle wise knight at your feet melts into your hands. You quietly coo at his soft expression, and he shies further into your hands.

   “I may be godly, but I still feel I ought to ask; do you wish to stay by my side? As a part of my temple?” You ask quietly, his gaze lifts to look into yours, there are remnants of shock in them. The walls stop echoing his uneven breaths and the roses raise their heads cautiously, for only a moment even the sun warms on your skin.

   He smiles wide, rosie lips pull at laugh lines across his skin. “I would be honoured to stay by your side, wherever you’d like me,” he answers after a beat. You remove your hands from his skin, he lets out a quiet noise and nearly pouts. You smile and coo again, how cute, already addicted to your touch. You summon an ornate sword, its details are carved and layered in gold, it reflects rays of sunlight across the room.

   “With this sword I, the aeon of beauty, hereby knight you.” With your words you lay the sword down on both his shoulders. “You, my dearest, are now the only true knight of beauty.” These declarations are the only words of yours the walls dare echo, ingraining them into the stone.

   “I am truly honoured, I shall guard this temple with my life, as long as I can stand no one shall pass those doors without your permission. I shall bring every soul, beautiful or not, to their knees for you, only for you.” He must be feeling bold, for he leans over and softly kisses the blade still resting on his shoulder.