#and i have sleeping with sirens soon? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonlinos · 9 months ago

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I can hear the siren (Siren part I)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, neighbors AU, strangers to “lovers”

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, voyeurism if you squint, hate sex kind of?, masturbation, thigh riding, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, Hyunjin’s a bit of an asshole but I love him

♡ Word count: 7.9k

♡ Synopsis: To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

♡ A/N: Once again, I cannot shut up and this ended up being much longer than I had originally wanted. One day, I will write a one-shot that’s less than 5k words, but today is not that day. I listened to Taeyeon’s Siren while writing this, hence the title. Also think the song’s a little fitting to the story.

part II →

Yet another night, yet another two hours of hearing your next-door neighbor moaning like a porn star for anyone to hear. The thin walls of your apartment, coupled with the fact that your room shared a wall with his own bedroom, make it impossible for you not to hear everything that happens inside his bedroom. Earphones have proven futile in muffling his voice, and you can only distract yourself with mindless YouTube videos for so long before you give up and simply wait for him to finish. Quite literally.

You noticed it was his routine: Fridays and weekends — the nights when he would graciously give the entire building a free show.

But that wasn’t all he did. And that’s what stirs up curiosity inside of you.

An hour before the unholy sounds begin, he spends a significant amount of time simply speaking, laughing loudly, and throwing the occasional suggestive comment here and there. But only his voice can be heard, and considering how damn thin the walls are, you can’t help but wonder why that is. Maybe his hookups aren’t into his long, drawn-out conversations, only there to get fucked and dip as fast as possible. Or perhaps it’s a girlfriend, and he enjoys gagging her. Your mind has had plenty of time to run wild with theories, seeing as he moved about a month ago, starting your own personal version of hell on his very first day.

You complained to your landlord three times now. On the first time, you were dismissed as being too sensitive to noise. Maybe invest in some earplugs, she suggested. The second time, after explaining through gritted teeth that perhaps the entire building could also hear him and it would be wise to give him a warning, she assured you that only your apartment had such complaints — after all, it was only the two of you on that floor. And, on your last attempt before you ultimately gave up, your landlord all but berated you for meddling in your neighbor’s business. She argued he was inside his apartment and could do whatever he desired.

And so, you accepted your fate.

As you walk out of the shower, your bliss at the realization that tonight is a Friday dissipates as soon as it dawns on you that you are in for three days in a row of your neighbor and his antics. You groan, reluctantly making your way toward your bedroom, your body aching after sitting at your desk at work all day. So sleeping on the couch was not an option; your limbs only ached even more the day after you did that to try and escape the raucous noise.

Like clockwork, at exactly ten p.m., his loud voice fills the small space of your bedroom.

“I’m actually going out tonight again, so we have to be quick,” he explains. “But you like it when I’m quick, don’t you? Like when I make you cum so fast you barely have time to understand what’s happening.”

You grimace at his words, burying yourself under your blankets. God.

“I’m going clubbing with a couple of friends,” He continues. “Hopefully, I’ll find a nice girl to take home, hm?”

Crossing out the word Girlfriend on your mental notes, you scoff. What a gentleman he is, letting his hook-up know he’ll have to fuck her fast so he can leave to meet another woman to take home.

“Maybe I’ll record a video for you if she lets me. Would you like that, seeing me fuck another woman? I bet you would.”

What the fuck. The word Girlfriend is added back to your list. Maybe the girl is into that shit, and you’re not one to kink shame so long as everything’s consensual. But you surely didn’t consent to knowing that information.

Soon enough, his voice drops to a sultry tone, and incessant hums spill from his lips. And the worst part of your night begins.

You hate to admit it — seeing as the guy makes you lose sleep and disturbs your peace since he’s graced the building with his presence — but his dirty talk, when coupled with his groans, becomes far less unpleasant and much more enticing. Every night, you struggle for an hour with the uncomfortable feeling of arousal between your legs, the way he alternates between praises and vulgar words causing a twinge inside of you. But you never dare to masturbate to the sound of his voice — that would be going too far. Or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you follow your rule of waiting for him to finish whatever it is that he’s doing to then finally touch yourself. As you tightly shut your eyes, you focus on your upcoming work assignments, desperately trying to drown out the sound of his voice. Maybe boring yourself to sleep is your only escape.

“Oh, I know how wet you are just watching me — fuck,” he groans, a breathy scoff leaving his lips. “Don’t even gotta tell me. Just touch yourself, it’s okay.”

Your eyes shoot open as it feels as if he’s fucking talking to you. You shake your head, the awful feeling of embarrassment engulfing you in the privacy of your own bedroom.

“I know you want to,” His voice is unrelenting, reverberating through your dark room, punctuated by heavy sighs. “Do it for me, will you? Touch your pretty cunt for me.”

You feel your clit begin to pulse, and a loud groan escapes from your lips. So loud, in fact, you wonder if he heard you through the thin walls as well.

Fuck it, you tell yourself inwardly, it’s not like the guy will ever know what you’re doing.

The sound of his voice was as silky and dark as velvet, covering you wholly and clouding your judgment with each word. You allow your hand to slip underneath your sleep shorts, gasping as you find the fabric of your panties already soaking simply from hearing his words — almost begging, guiding you to let go of your reservations and touch yourself.

“Just like that. D’you like the sound of my voice?” He asked, voice breathless, a deep groan echoing through the walls. “Like hearing me moan for you? Bet you’d like it even more if I was fucking you.”

Your fingers delicately flick back and forth, teasing your clit, your mind now shamelessly imagining his fingertips, his tongue, his cock, anything he was willing to give you. You’re quick to lose yourself in this imagination, despite not knowing what the man looked like — you soon realize that wasn’t at all important, a dark shadowy figure hovering over you proving to be more than enough for you as you felt a rush of wetness pooling between your thighs when your neighbor let out a louder, guttural noise.

“Fuck, I’d love to be stretching that pussy out,” He chokes out, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any noise. You’re now hyper-aware that if you can hear him this loudly, he’d be able to hear you with the same amount of clarity.

Your embarrassment only goes so far, though, as you slip a finger into your cunt, your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering closed to better conjure up the fantasy your mind had been creating. You imagine his long fingers inside you in place of your own, the words he spilled almost nonchalantly being whispered directly into your ears. One finger soon turned into two, then three, the heel of your palm rubbing against your clit as you tilt your hips up. You throw away your last drop of inhibition as you indulge in vivid thoughts, imagining the shape and size of his cock and, most importantly, how it would feel as it filled you up. Your neighbor’s words almost faded into white noise, his grunting the only coherent sound in your ears.

Would he take his time with you, like he always did whenever you heard him? Teasing you for hours as he candidly talked about nothing in particular, rendering you unable to do anything but beg for him? Or would he be hasty, like tonight, his cock abruptly stretching you to the brim, making you feel every inch of his thick length? Would he rather finish on your breasts, your stomach, or maybe your face, taking a picture to keep as a souvenir he could show off to whoever he was with during these nights?

“Come with me,” His voice suddenly became clear once more, deep and hoarse as you imagine his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “Think about how good it’d feel to have me come inside you, stuffing that little cunt while you milk me dry.”

You purse your lips as you feel your release approaching, coaxed purely by his words. The mental image of this stranger painting your insides with his release, all the while his intoxicating voice told you how good you were, how warm and tight you felt enough to have waves of pleasure wash over you, body tensing up as your orgasm surges through you.

As you slowly come down from your high, you feel your consciousness come back to you. Your fingers leave your core as if you were just burned by fire, which is fitting as a feeling of burning embarrassment wraps around you tightly like a vice.

But the worst part is that the shame quickly ebbs away as you hear your neighbor’s chuckle, the laugh of a stranger you had come to almost memorize.

“You know I’m always glad to make you come. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, everything around you falls into a quiet stillness. You faintly hear as he shuts his front door, presumably leaving for that club he had mentioned, and you’re left to lie with your regrets.

This has just crossed a line, and although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel all that guilty, you still knew it was wrong. You had no choice but to confront the cause of your troubles yourself.

Unfortunately, that cause was a person you had just shamelessly fantasized about as you fingered yourself.

The next afternoon, you stand at your neighbor’s door, hesitant to knock. Since he mentioned going clubbing last night, you knew coming by in the morning would be futile, but you also know — sadly, all too well — that Saturday nights are when he’s the loudest, and he only stops well past midnight. You settled for the afternoon, preparing lunch as you rehearsed your words in your head instead of enjoying your weekend.

You knock twice, and that familiar voice soon rings through the door, asking for a moment. A minute later, your neighbor is standing in front of you, holding the door open with sleepy eyes that focus on you. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but surely not a tired-looking tall man with messy black hair wearing a pout on his lips, as if you just rudely disturbed him from his sleep (how ironic). From what you heard during the last month, you were ready to have to face a shirtless fuckboy, a permanent smirk etched onto his lips as he eyed you indifferently. Instead, you’re greeted by soft cheeks and half-closed eyes.

“Yeah?” Your neighbor croaks out, face still heavy with sleep.

You clear your throat, returning to the matter at hand. “I’m your next-door neighbor, I—”

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” he says before you can even finish your rehearsed opening sentence, his lips curling into a small smile. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Somehow, him being so soft is making you hate him even more.

“I wish I could say the same,” you mutter, “Y’know, you’ve been making my life a living hell since you moved in.”

He doesn’t answer, instead running a hand through his hair, the strands falling into place and away from his face. After a small nod, he opens the door all the way.

“Come on in,” he says, promptly walking inside and leaving you standing in the hallway all alone. You have no choice but to follow after him.

He snatches his cup of coffee from the counter, letting out a tired sigh as he collapses onto the couch and takes a big sip. You sit next to him and watch as he swallows slowly, humming contently, and only then speaking again.

“Why is that?”

You hold back another eye roll. “Well, you’re quite noisy at night,” you hesitantly begin, only now grasping just how awkward explaining this situation will be. “On Fridays and on the weekends, you’re… loud.”

And in an instant, you witness a complete shift in his entire demeanor right before your eyes. Like he’s possessed by something, his once sleepy eyes now bore into you with an intense gaze, and his lips curl into the smug grin you were expecting from the start.

“So you can hear me?” He asks as if you hadn’t just told him exactly that. You feel small under the weight of his darkened eyes, but you shrug, doing your best at feigning confidence.

“It’s pretty hard not to hear you,” you answer simply. “We share a wall, in case you didn’t know. I can hear everything you do in your bedroom.”

He raises a brow at your words as if they piqued his interest. But he doesn’t verbalize it; instead, he speaks in that same nonchalant tone you’re used to hearing through your bedroom wall, “You never told me your name. A bit rude, don’t you think?” He offers you his hand. “I’m Hyunjin.”

You scoff but shake his hand regardless, telling him your name with a sigh.

“You know what I think is rude?” You offer him a forced smile. “Keeping your next-door neighbor up all night with how fucking loud you are.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. His gaze traces a path from your eyes to your lips before lingering on your thighs. You instinctively cross your legs, fingers smoothing down the fabric of your shorts. Locking his gaze with yours once more after a few seconds, he cocks his head to the side.

“So I’ve been keeping you up all night?” He muses, and you feel a warmth spread across your cheeks at the rough rasp in his voice.

It’s almost as if he knows what you did last night and is teasing you.

Although you know that’s impossible, your words still get choked up. Hyunjin was undeniably attractive — whether it was looking as soft as he did while answering the door or as if he could devour you with his gaze alone as he does now. You couldn’t be blamed for feeling flustered, especially after everything you heard this man saying and doing.

“Well,” you clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. Showing your outrage at this entire situation is your best bet, so you allow for the anger you felt during all those sleepless nights to seep through your veins. “It’s kinda hard to sleep when you’re moaning like a porn star.”

But Hyunjin fully chuckles at that. “So I sound like a porn star?” He nods with an amused hum. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. Never mind anything you had thought upon seeing him open that door; Hyunjin is everything you thought he would be.

“Look, I didn’t come here to stroke your ego. You’re clearly doing just fine in that regard,” you grumble, and he scoffs beside you, leaning back on the couch with a smug expression you want to slap away from his pretty face. “I came here to ask if you could move whatever it is that you do to the living room, or maybe keep it down. I’m sure that’s not too much to ask.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue almost mockingly. “Oh, but it is too much to ask. I can’t really do any of those things. Sorry,” he shrugs, “The building has thin walls. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, I’m afraid.”

You stagger at his words, his lack of common sense seemingly higher than you initially gave him credit for. You’re unsure whether to laugh in sheer disbelief or cuss him out as anger slowly bubbles up inside your chest. How unfairly attractive he looks at the moment isn’t helping your case — he spreads his legs further as he shifts on the couch, bringing his mug up to his full lips and watching you almost uninterestedly with half-lidded eyes.

Fuck this guy.

“What is it you do that’s so important that you can’t at least keep it down? Can’t your girlfriend get off without your obnoxious dirty talk? Is that it?”

Hyunjin shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Your dates, then. I honestly don’t care.” You roll your eyes, which elicits a small laugh from him. You have never wanted to punch someone so badly, all while also wanting them to rearrange your guts. “Whoever it is, whatever it is that you do, can’t we compromise and you be quiet, at least on Fridays? I get home from work exhausted and have to put up with your shit when all I wanna do is sleep.”

“Ah, but Fridays are the most important nights for me,” Hyunjin tells you with a condescending lilt in his voice. “That’s also not possible, I’m so sorry.”

“I see.” You suck in a deep breath, your eyes narrowing and hands curling into fists on your lap. “Then would it be possible for you to move your… activities to the living room?”

Hyunjin contorts his face, shaking his head while that grin is still etched onto his lips. “Yeah, no, that’s also not possible.”

“You’re extremely inflexible, do you know that?” You blurt out, “I’m not asking that you move out, I’m simply asking that you fuck whoever it is that you fuck every weekend somewhere else.”

His piercing gaze lingers on you briefly, as if he’s carefully considering his next words. Sighing, he sets his mug on the end table and sits up straight.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposes, carelessly ripping a piece of paper from the open sketchbook that lay on the coffee table and jotting something down. “Tonight, you wait for me to start my activities,” he says with a poorly concealed chuckle. “And then you go on this website. Maybe it’ll clear up some things inside your pretty little head. Can you do that for me?”

He hands you the note, eyes darting down to your lips once more before meeting your gaze. The tone of his voice is the same that echoes through your bedroom during those nights — exactly like the one that coaxed an orgasm out of you just last night, and you absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together.

You need to get out of here.

With a small nod, you swiftly stand back on your feet and walk toward the door of his apartment that was left wide open. You quietly mutter a goodbye as Hyunjin says something about it being a pleasure meeting you, all while amusedly staring at you.

It’s only as you close your front door behind you that you look down at the piece of paper that you subconsciously crumpled up. Scrawled in a messy handwriting is simply a website address:

fivestarcam.com

You furrow your brows, walking toward your bedroom as you rack your brain for how a website could possibly give you answers. It dawns on you, then — all the trouble you went through, and yet, no solution to your problem.

Ultimately, you decide you’ve already wasted too much of your patience on this man today, throwing the piece of paper on your bedside table and going about your day, enjoying the tranquility of your apartment while you can.

Night comes too fast, the sun setting outside unbeknownst to you as you lie on the couch for nearly three hours, your focus solely on the plot of the movie playing on your phone. Soon enough, ten p.m. rolls around, and you drag your tired body toward your bathroom. You take a shower with no rush, knowing full well that by the time you walk into your bedroom, Hyunjin’s activities will already have started.

Sure enough, you’re greeted by a drawled-out groan as soon as you enter your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto your bed. Your bedroom had always been comforting, your bed almost like a safe haven from all the stress life threw your way. Yet now it’s simply the place where you lie awake for hours, simultaneously vexed and uncomfortably turned on.

You lie still for a while, Hyunjin’s vulgar chatter like the background music to your spacing out, until you remember the piece of paper he gave you earlier. How would a website clear up any of your confusion? And, more importantly, why should you even care enough to find out? From the little interaction you had with the man, you know for a fact Hyunjin will remain unchanging in his obnoxious ways.

However, you’ve always been too curious for your own good, and the mere prospect of understanding this annoyingly enigmatic man even a tiny bit has you hurriedly picking your laptop off the floor and typing out the website address on your browser. Curiosity killed the cat.

The first thing that greets you is a message asking that you verify being over the age of eighteen. All you have to do is click a button, which seems counterintuitive, but you have little time to worry about that when your screen is filled with preview thumbnails of several live broadcasts.

You’ve heard of camming websites before, of course, but you didn’t know they were still a thing nowadays, what with the rise of Only Fans and other more independent ways to go about making money like this.

Your eyes scan the page with agape lips. Men and women — some in their underwear and some already naked, some showing their faces and some wearing masks. And then, your eyes land on a particular thumbnail. At the Top Cammers of The Month section, on the number one spot, is a fully clothed man with familiar long black hair. Only the bottom of his face can be seen due to his camera angle, but that is more than enough as your gaze fixes on his full lips.

That’s undeniably Hyunjin. Your neighbor, Hyunjin.

Before you can make sense of your actions, your fingers are already hovering above the touchpad as you watch the thumbnail image change into a new one. Curiosity is eating away at you, and you can’t deny that your nosy mind is eager to finally see Hyunjin rather than only hear him.

Ultimately, you decide this is ridiculous.

But your twitching fingers brush against the touchpad just as you move to close your laptop, promptly clicking the live video, your screen now filled with the image of Hyunjin in his bedroom. He’s shirtless now, palming himself through his sweatpants — the same ones he wore this afternoon.

“You wanna know how clubbing went last night?” He says with a grin, and you now understand his incessant talking is merely him answering comments from his viewers. Various different names fly through the right side of your screen, some with tips attached to their comments and some simply drooling over Hyunjin as he essentially sits in front of the camera doing nothing.

A cocky smile is spread on his lips once you shift your attention back to him.

“I guess you’re good at following orders,” he chuckles. You then realize your laptop’s volume is on high, and the speaker’s noise permeates through your wall and into Hyunjin’s bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, and you scramble to find your earphones in your bed.

You’re gnawing on your bottom lip as you plug them in, suddenly too aware of the fact that he can hear you just as well as you can hear him. Hyunjin’s smile shifts into a small laugh, his hand wrapping around his length through his sweatpants, the firm outline of his cock straining against the fabric. You feel a tingling sensation spread through your body, your inner muscles clenching as you watch the way his hand squeezes along the thick outline, the muscles of his stomach contracting as he lets out a broken sigh.

This feels wrong, as if you’re nothing more than a pervert watching Hyunjin for your own pleasure. But then again, it was he who gave you the website address in the first place. Why else would he have done that if not for you to watch him?

“I have a special someone watching tonight,” he murmurs, and you can just imagine his gaze right now — his eyes hooded and piercing, locked onto the camera with the same intensity as when he looked at you earlier today.

Hyunjin’s hand reaches inside his sweatpants, withdrawing his cock from the constraints of the dark fabric before you can make sense of what’s happening. Your gaze remains fixed, unable to look away from the red, swollen head that stands out against his pale skin. With lazy movements, he begins stroking himself, the precum dripping from the tip easing the glide of his hand. You bite the inside of your cheek as more arousal leaks from you, gathering in your panties.

“Hope she likes watching just as much as she liked listening to me last night,” Hyunjin rasps out, and you immediately close your laptop, throwing it to the side before burying your face in your pillow.

He knows you got off to his voice. He has to know.

And, unfortunately, your brain is currently too clouded by lust to function properly, and the only logical solution you can come up with is to go knocking at his door tomorrow.

You stand in front of Hyunjin’s door at the same time as yesterday, a strange blend of anger and curiosity making you knock frantically until he answers with that annoyingly alluring smirk on his lips.

“Did you enjoy the show last night?” Hyunjin asks before you can even utter a word, his voice filled with a goading tone.

You push past him, walking into his apartment with a scowl. “Why did you send me that?”

He only shrugs, closing the door behind him before stretching his arms above his head with a sigh. “Needed you to understand why I can’t just stop doing what I do. It’s my job,” he reasons, “I figured showing you was more effective than telling you.”

A scoff involuntarily falls from your lips, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “So you just sent me to a website full of porn without even asking me if that was okay? I don’t care if that’s your fucking job, I never asked you—”

“Did you stay till the end?” He asks, a lazy grin on his lips as his gaze wanders across your face. Clearly, he’d completely ignored every word that came out of your mouth.

“Hyunjin, are you even listening to me?”

“I was thinking about you, y’know?” He continues, taking a step toward you. “Was really easy to come when I knew you were watching me.” He cages your body against the door with his, both hands resting beside your head. His dark gaze locks onto you, causing your breath to hitch. “All I could think about was how you were secretly listening to me all this time. Such a dirty girl.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. You want to tell him you weren’t secretly listening to him; you were merely thrown into this situation against your will. But his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, lingering before roaming over the swell of your breasts, causing your thoughts to blur and your words to die in your throat.

“Kept thinking about how I never heard you,” he says, almost as if he’s wondering aloud. “When was the last time someone fucked you properly?”

His gaze finally travels back up to yours, and the fog of desire clouding his eyes is unmistakable. The moment you knocked on his door, you knew this would happen. You weren’t naïve, and Hyunjin wasn’t stupid; the moment you pushed past him and into his apartment, you both knew where this was going.

“Don’t have time to go on dates,” you murmur as Hyunjin leans down, humming low on his throat.

“Well,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “You got to listen to me, got to watch me… Don’t you wanna know what it feels like?”

You can only nod, and Hyunjin immediately presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He wedges his knee firmly between your thighs, as if he’s silently demanding that you give in to him. Little does he know you’re already way past that point.

Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin studies your features for a beat, the pad of his thumb gliding across your bottom lip as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“You really want this?” He asks, and you can’t help but feel he does it simply for the pleasure of hearing you beg.

But you happily comply either way.

“Please,” you breathe out, and Hyunjin chuckles, firmly pressing his thumb into your mouth and watching as you wrap your lips around it with a contented hum. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Hyunjin pushes his thigh against your core, the seam of your shorts creating a delicious friction against your clit. You can feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against you, and a sigh falls from your lips, your hands gliding up around his shoulders. You have no reservations left in your body; the only thing replaying inside your mind at the moment is the image of Hyunjin’s cock on your laptop. He was right. You were dying to know what it would feel like.

His strong hands firmly gripped onto your hips, guiding you to move against his thigh, each back-and-forth motion increasing the pressure on your aching clit. It felt too much, yet not enough at the same time. But just as you’re about to plead for more, Hyunjin’s pressing his lips to yours again and swallowing down your voice. His tongue slides against yours, the taste of coffee and smoke lingering in your mouth as he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling gently before letting go.

You feel your mind go fully hazy as Hyunjin lifts his thigh, bringing you up to your tiptoes, his muscles flexing and prompting you to roll your hips faster, harder.

“Who would’ve thought, huh? Just minutes ago you were acting like I was the worst person alive,” He lets out a low chuckle, amused, and your grip on his neck tightens as you feel the familiar vexation he brings out of you bubble up inside your chest. “Now you’re humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

“Shut up,” you choke out, your brain too lust-hazed to conjure up a better response. You don’t particularly care what he thinks of you so long as he keeps his bruising grip on your skin, guiding you to roll your hips against him.

Hyunjin trails kisses down the skin of your neck, settling at the dip of your collarbone and sucking on the skin while you eagerly quicken your speed. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, undoubtedly marking you, while his thigh begins to bounce against your cunt, and you can feel the familiar aching warmth of your orgasm beginning to tighten in your stomach. But just as you’re about to be hit by the release you’re so desperate for, Hyunjin’s hands leave your hips and slide down to your ass, any stimulation you had before coming to a halt as he picks you up and makes his way to the living room.

“What the fuck?” You all but yell, earning you a hearty laugh from Hyunjin. “I was close, you asshole.”

He roughly throws you onto the couch, a condescending pout etched onto his lips.

“But that’s no fun for me, is it, baby?” He hovers over you, spreading your thighs apart and slotting himself between them. In stark contrast to his words, he gently lifts your shirt over your head, feather-light touch sending shivers down your spine. “Greedy girls don’t get to come.”

You feel your insides clenching at his words, and although you despise the effect he has on you, you’re already here, laid out before him, so you might as well indulge him. You gently push Hyunjin back until he sinks into the sofa, legs lazily spread apart and half-lidded eyes fixated on you. As soon as you clutch at his shirt, he promptly tugs it over his head in one fluid motion, and you attach your lips to the bare skin of his stomach, trailing kisses down the expanse of his torso.

You waste no time tugging his sweatpants down and out of your way, his cock now hanging heavily before you, just as pretty as it had seemed on that little screen. Hyunjin’s hand soon wraps around himself, stroking lazily while you watch the precum dribble from his tip. Tentatively, you grab the base of his cock, bringing your tongue to the head and tantalizingly lapping at it. Hyunjin lets out a quiet gasp, his own hand leaving his length and tangling in your hair, guiding you forward toward his cock. You part your lips and suck the head into your waiting mouth, hands now stroking his length at a slow pace while you lick up his slit, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. You hold back a chuckle when you feel him twitch under your touch, a soft whimper falling from his throat.

Hyunjin’s hips buck up into your lips, and you promptly open your jaw wider and slide his whole length down your throat slowly. You weren’t lying when you said you had no time for dates, which is why you find yourself struggling a bit. It truly had been a while since you had a proper fuck, but you would never give Hyunjin the pleasure of hearing you admit it. Breathing through your nose, you’re finally able to move up and down his cock, swallowing all of him. Your eyes well up as his fingers tug harshly at your hair, shoving your mouth back down the entirety of his thick length. A choked-out whimper falls from your throat, and you instinctively move your gaze toward his.

“God,” he rasps out, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip and eyebrows knitting together. “You take me so well.”

You promptly remove your lips from him with a loud pop, precum and saliva dribbling down your chin as you struggle to suppress a laugh at the utter indignation on his face.

“I doubt you could fuck me if I let you come,” you shrug, and Hyunjin’s expression softens, a scoff falling from his lips.

Before you can say anything else, he’s already pushed you back onto the couch, easily flipping you over so your face is pressed into the cushion. He snakes a hand under your stomach and lifts your hips, quickly working to rid you of your shorts before pressing his cock against your clothed ass.

He leans down, lips pressed against your ear — much like it was in your fantasy back in your bedroom — and whispers, “You need me that badly? I can feel how soaked you are, and all you did was hump my leg.”

You grumble under your breath, but it goes ignored by Hyunjin as he grips your hips and slides his cock under the fabric of your panties, stroking himself along your soaking slit with a low groan. You can feel your underwear gradually dampen more as his precum mixes with your own arousal, the sheer cloth clinging to his cock with each thrust.

Hyunjin’s hand splayed across your lower back, causing you to arch your body and press your hips back instinctively. He chuckles, hand coming down onto the supper flesh of your ass with no warning, a sharp whimper falling from your lips.

“I told you greedy girls don’t get to come,” He reiterates, clicking his tongue and grabbing a large handful of your ass before tugging your panties down your legs. You quietly hoped the trees outside obscured enough of his window, otherwise you’d be in for some interesting elevator rides with your other neighbors. With a hiss, Hyunjin’s thumb presses against your clit before gliding along your wet folds. “Soaking wet,” he mutters, eyes glazed over while he watches your slick coat his finger.

You simply hum, not wanting to stroke his ego any more than you already had by begging him earlier. But you’re unable to contain the gasp that leaves your lips as he pushes his hips forward, the swollen tip of his cock gliding against your warm core once, twice, all while Hyunjin’s hands travel across your ass and thighs. You’re sure he’ll tease you until you give in and beg, but it seems his facade is quick to crumble. He impatiently wraps a hand around his length, finally guiding himself toward your entrance, seamlessly gliding into you with a heavy sigh.

He stills for a second, gaze transfixed by the way your cunt stretches around his thick cock. Until he suddenly pulls out of you before snapping his hips forward again, then again, until he sets a rhythm of deep, fast strokes that have you rocking back and forth on the couch. Pulling yourself up to rest on your forearms, you choke out a loud moan, Hyunjin’s cock twitching inside you at the sound.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, strong arms encircling your body once more, this time pulling you close to him until your back presses against his chest. Hyunjin’s thrusts grew more forceful, the sound of skin slapping together echoing through his small living room as he relentlessly pumped himself into you. His hand wraps in your hair, yanking your head back and humming against your ear, “Go on, you can moan for me,” he hisses, “I know how good it feels.”

Fuck. His ego is surely something you would never get used to.

But you let go, freely groaning at the feeling of his cock pistoning into you. You can feel the curve of his grin against your cheek.

“Like that, I know how much you like it,” he rasps out, “Just as much as you liked touching yourself to my voice like a little slut.”

“Fuck off, you—” you huff, your words cut off by a drawn-out mewl as Hyunjin’s fingers firmly pressed down on your clit, flattening the swollen bud. You couldn’t control yourself after that, desperate whimpers and choked-out moans falling from your lips with each harsh thrust of his hips.

Your sounds seem to stir something inside of him, and his movements grow more erratic, his fingers circling your clit hastily. A crescendo of arousal and pleasure envelops you as more curses tumble from Hyunjin’s lips against your ear, his hand gripping your cheek and pulling you into a messy kiss.

You clench around him, body shaking with the force of your climax as you seek Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around your body for purchase. He continues pounding into you, and you feel yourself squirm, your vision going blurry from the stimulation.

“Gonna come,” he hisses against your lips, “Where do you want it?”

And you’re too far gone at this point, whimpering, “Anywhere you want.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath, pulling out while his hand finds your lower back once more, pushing you onto the couch before flipping your pliant body over so you’re facing him. You watch with hazy eyes as he strokes himself feverishly over your body, his cum soon shooting onto your breasts.

His unreadable gaze lingers on you for a beat and a half before he nonchalantly tucks himself back into his sweatpants and heads toward the hallway. You sit up on the couch, limbs aching, and chuckle to yourself. This was not your proudest moment, but you surely didn’t regret it.

You don’t expect aftercare from someone like him, so you resign yourself to searching for your discarded shirt. But Hyunjin’s tall frame appears before you, towel in hand before you can even stand up. His touch is gentle as he cleans your chest, and although the gesture is somewhat sweet, it feels extremely awkward.

“Really liked fucking you,” he tells you with a grin, “But you gotta leave now. I’m going live later, and I also gotta go to the club tonight, so I have to rest. But it was fun.”

And you simply scoff at his words, rising to your feet to dress yourself as quickly as possible. It was a bit baffling how he could fuck you the way he did, then tell you he’s off to pick up more girls at a club immediately after. But what did you expect? Hyunjin’s ego and arrogance were clear to you from day one.

“Why the fuck do you go clubbing so much, anyway?” You question as you head toward the front door, and Hyunjin chuckles behind you. “Is that your hunting ground or something?”

“You could say that,” he simply says.

As you unlock his door and step out into the hallway, Hyunjin’s voice calls out to you. Turning to look at him, you’re met with that familiar smirk adorning his lips.

“We can do this again anytime you want,” he assures, and the mere thought of letting him touch you again makes you roll your eyes in disdain.

“Yeah right.”

If only you knew then just how awfully torturous it would be to listen to him, knowing what he was doing — most importantly, knowing what it felt like to have him.

Lust completely clouds your judgment when it comes to Hyunjin, and you soon find yourself coming back to his apartment until it becomes an annoyingly pleasurable habit.

Every day, when he hears you get home from work, your phone buzzes with a text asking that you come over and help him ‘warm up for his job.’ The nights of suffering in your bedroom have transformed into watching him from the corner of his room, enthralled with the way he can make himself come on camera so eagerly and later fuck you with just as much vigor.

It’s a nice arrangement, but definitely not one you see yourself in for the long run. Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but you’re not foolish enough to anchor your feelings to someone like him. It’s not his job that’s the problem, but mostly his attitude toward life. He belongs to nobody, while you yearn to belong to someone. Routine is the last thing on his mind, while you revel in its comfort. You could never be with someone like him.

But it is a nice arrangement.

So you find yourself back in his bed again today, his heavy cock in your mouth as he tugs harshly on your hair, painting the back of your throat with his cum. Except this time, he doesn’t immediately ask you to leave.

“What?” You ask, “Don’t you have to go clubbing or something?”

“It’s my day off,” he shrugs, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close and falls back into bed. You furrow your brows, detangling yourself from him.

“Day off? From what, picking up girls?”

Hyunjin chuckles, eyes sleepy. “I work at the club,” he simply says. “I’m a host, I just act like I go clubbing when I talk about it during my lives ‘cause my viewers can be a bit stalkery.”

“What?”

“Have you heard of The Siren?” He asks, and you hum, recalling a faint memory of some of your co-workers mentioning the club in passing. “That’s where I work.”

You nod slowly, still confused. “What exactly does a host do?”

“Well, basically, I get to make money just by making lonely women feel wanted.”

You can’t help but scoff at his crude description. “And do you fuck them?”

“Well, yeah,” he answers like it’s obvious. “It’s part of the job.”

“Fucking hell,” You let out a hearty laugh, to which Hyunjin shoots you a questioning look. “Your sex drive really should be studied.”

His lips upturn into a smirk, and his arms reach for you again, beckoning you back into his embrace. “No need to be jealous, baby. I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you into his chest. He threads his fingers through your hair, and you can’t help but feel… awkward.

“You’re kind of an asshole, Hyunjin.”

He hums. “Sure, but you still let me fuck you.”

You two stay that way for a while, his fingers massaging your scalp as he presses a kiss to your head now and then. It feels disorienting, like a sudden shift from everything Hyunjin had been until now. He was never caring or sweet, he never kissed you if you weren’t fucking, and he surely never cuddled you. Your face involuntarily contorts into a grimace.

You detach yourself from him, getting up from the bed and telling him you’ll see him later. But Hyunjin is grabbing at your arm with a smile.

“Come on, don’t be sad,” he giggles as you try to free yourself from his grip. “I’m really not the type of guy you should have fallen for, anyway.”

You still at his words, face contorting into pure befuddlement. “Fallen for? Who the fuck says I’ve fallen for you?”

And Hyunjin simply scoffs, letting go of your arm as his smile shifts into his characteristic grin. “Well, there’s a reason I’m number one among the hosts at The Siren.”

“Hyunjin, those girls aren’t exactly after you for your personality,” you deadpan. “You’re really nothing worth falling for.”

His grin slowly fades, and it’s his turn to have confusion take hold in his eyes. “What?”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting this. Almost as if he was expecting you to have truly fallen for him simply because he… is him. And you can’t help but chuckle at the situation.

“Hyunjin,” you call out to him sweetly, and his gaze is back on you immediately. “You’re a nice fuck, but that’s really it. Don’t worry about me falling for you.”

You can swear you see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but it’s likely only your imagination. He opens his lips to speak but promptly closes them again. He simply stares up at you from where he’s sat on the bed and almost looks sweet. If you didn’t know him, you would undoubtedly be charmed by this convincing facade. You have to give it to him; you do understand why he’s number one at his job.

“But…” He trails off, shaking his head. “But I’ll see you again tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “We can keep fucking until I find something better.”

You run your fingers through his long hair and make your way to the door, leaving him with an expression frozen in bewilderment.

Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but he’ll never be yours.

But that’s not a problem, as you surely will never be his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz

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imagineshere-forall · 9 months ago

Text

- staying with mom ✰ e. diaz

Summary: the first time Christoper calls you mom

Genre: mostly fluff but smidge of angst/tension

warnings: none

Pairing: eddie diaz x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

Notes: hi hi i tried to use american terms like mall and mom, but i am not american and i say mum, so if you notice any slip ups pls let me know and i will change it. I feel like it would be weird to picture chris saying mum in an american accent so i tried to only used mom Also i have started watched the walking dead and am obsessed so pls feel free to request some fics for the walking dead (i’m halfway through s7)

When you and Eddie started dating, you waited quite a while before meeting Chris as you wanted to be sure in your relationship so as not to unsettle Chris. After about 8 months, you were pretty sure Eddie was it for you, and you eventually met Chris. Within 6 months of meeting Christopher you had pretty much moved in with the boys, and when the lease on your apartment was up for renewal Chris was the one who suggested you move in. That was over a year ago and since then the three of you had been living life as a happy little family.

Today, you had a day off from work but Eddie did not, so you had decided to take Chris out for the day. For weeks, Chris had been saying his shoes were starting to get tight so you had decided you would take him to buy some new shoes and buy him a couple extra treats. It wasn’t often you and Eddie weren’t both at work at the same time, even if you didn’t have the same shift, you often overlapped so Chris would spend time with Carla.

Eddie was at work before you even woke up, so you and Chris had a slow morning before heading to the mall. The car journey was filled with music and laughs, you loved spending time with Chris and you guys always had an amazing time.

Once you got to the mall you found yourself chasing Christoper, the shoe shop was all the way on the other side of the mall so you had decided to do fun shopping first. The first stop was at the ice cream parlor, and then the two of you made your way quickly over to the lego shop. You both bought a lego set, as you planned to watch a movie and build lego together in the afternoon. Once the pair of you had gone to all the shops you wanted to, you slowly walked back to the car, trying to agree on a movie to watch while you were building your legos.

You were nearly at the car, when the ground started to rumble. Small tremors weren;t uncommon living in LA, but this was not that. The slight rumble turned to full blown shaking and the lights in the parking garage started to come loose and smash to the floor. You quickly dropped your bags and grabbed Christopher and headed for the car, it might not have been the smartest idea but in your panic it seemed like the safest option if the garage was to crumble.

Somehow, you managed to get to the car in record time as you were opening the door, you noticed a piece of debris falling and you quickly pushed Chris into the car. Within seconds of you getting Chris safely into the car, the debris had come down, knocking you down in the process. You hit your head on the concrete and briefly lost consciousness, but you quickly came around to the sounds of Chris’s cries.

“I’m here Chris, I’m okay,” you mumbled as you tried to wriggle free. Although, your right leg was trapped under the piece of the parking garage that had knocked you to the floor.

Not long after you regained consciousness, sirens were all you could hear and it became nearly impossible to keep your eyes open, and you were soon consumed by the darkness.

“Cap, get Eddie over here!” You heard being yelled from close by. Squinting at the bright light you started to blink your eyes back open and were met with Buck’s face looking down at you.

“Chris, is Chris okay?” you forced out, your throat was hoarse and felt as though you had woken from a deep sleep. You could feel yourself being rolled onto a stretcher, presumably to move you to an ambulance, or at least a safer area.

“Chris was with you?” Buck panicked.

“I think I got him in the car,” you coughed, “Check him first.”

A couple minutes later you heard a car door be forced open, and then Buck’s shouts.

“Chris!” Eddie’s shouts were so loud. He had arrived onto the scene and saw Buck carrying Chris over some rubble away from the car. You turned your head slowly and saw Eddie embrace his son tightly.

“Where’s Y/N?” Eddie suddenly asked. The panic in his voice was palpable.

“Over here,” You heard Buck’s voice get louder as he led Eddie to you. Eddie placed Chris down next to your stretcher and cradled your face.

“Baby, are you okay?” he questioned, whilst scanning your body for any obvious injuries.

“My leg got crushed but I’m fine. How is Chris? Is Chris okay?” you spoke so fast.

“I’m fine,” you heard Chris speak. You could have cried with relief upon hearing his voice. You had seen Eddie carry him, but hearing him speak and confirming he was okay made you so happy.

“Now, let get you taken to hospital, Buck can you take Chris to Athena and get her to call Carla please,” Eddie said as he began to wheel you out of the area. You saw Buck begin to usher Chris towards Athena who you could see a while away directing people.

“No.”

You and Eddie both stopped and looked at Chris who was avoiding Buck and walking towards the two of you.

“Chris, bud, y/n is okay. Your dad is just making sure she gets her leg checked out,” Buck tried to convince Chris.

“No,” Chris shook off Buck’s arms and carried on walking in your direction. Eddie sighed, letting go of your stretcher and turning to Chris before squatting down to his level while holding onto him.

“Chris, I need to take y/n to get checked out. Can you please go with Buck?” Eddie begged.

“No.” Chris was being stubborn.

“Chris please,” Eddie was starting to get desperate.

“I want to stay with mom.” Chris yelled.

You, Buck and Eddie all went still. Suddenly, the atmosphere had changed. Chris had never called you mom before. The three of you all looked at each other in shock unsure what to say or do next.

“Come here Chris,” you beckoned the boy, before helping him to sit on one side of the stretcher after you had collapsed the arms, “You can stay with me.”

Eddie was still looking at you in shock, starting to feel love swell in his chest. The idea that Chris saw you as a mother figure made him so happy.

“Chris, it looks like your dad is frozen,” you laughed whilst looping one of your arms around the boy. You had managed to get him in a place where he wasn’t near your leg which was causing excruciating pain.

This brought Eddie out of his shock and he walked over to the two of you.

“I love you both so much,” he breathed as he leant to kiss both of your foreheads, “Let’s go get mom all checked out.”

#911 x reader #911 imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz fluff #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #evan buckley x reader #911 fic #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz one shot #eddie diaz angst #buckley diaz family #911

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pepsichrry · 9 months ago

Text

Ride Pt. 2 || Theodore F. Nott

Summary: Your relationship with Theo escalates further

Set after the Battle of Hogwarts!

Warnings: Sexual content, Smut, Mentions of violence, Theo is in love, Theo is obsessed with his wife!!

—————————————————————————

The spring had flourished into summer almost overnight, giving way to the birth of the sunlight and the heat that came with it. The Nott family home had grown more and more familiar as these days passed and you hoped that it would continue.

Things had shifted around the house, and not just because of the change in weather. You and Theodore finally began to align like rigid puzzle pieces. What was once a secret glance became a staring contest, being in the same room became sitting together and rooms on the other side of the house became Theo sneaking into your bed each night and staying to just be with you.

You soon became comfortable with the marriage, allowing Theo to shadow you around the house from time to time or even to sleep in your bed with you, sometimes you even allowed him to distract you from your reading and eat fruit with you on the lawn. As your relationship bloomed, you thought back to the very night that broke the silence.

It had become a regular occurrence now for Theo to spread you over your bedsheets and burying his head between your thighs. But that was all. Even as the months passed by, he hadn’t asked for anything more from you, only to sleep beside you and watch you as you slept. You obliged, not minding the company. You grew used to the familiar creaking of floorboards and the gentle nudges against your skin as he slipped into what was now his side of the bed.

But something urged you further than your new routine, to find out the extent of what could be done. You wanted to know what it felt like to be completely and utterly full with him, body and soul.

So, when he finally crept into your room in the dead of night, worshipped by the dim lick of candlelight, you were already waiting for him. His deep blue eyes watched you like he never had before, sensing the shift in the air. As he got closer, you sat up, looking over the expanse of his body. His hard chest was blanketed by a soft jumper which made him all the more comfortable than he already was, and his legs were clothed in a simple pair of sweats, ready for bed. It may have not been all that enticing, but the sight of him always seemed to drive you crazy. There was something about him so siren-like, so enchanting.

“You’re awake?” He asked you with his smooth voice and cheeky smile. You nodded, waiting for him to get closer so you could finally reach out to him. “I thought you’d be asleep, I didn’t mean to wake you, Bella.”

He drew your duvet back and climbed into bed with you, lying flat on his back with his hands over his middle. You turned to him.

Bringing a gentle hand to his head, you brushed his stray curls from his forehead as he watched you with tired eyes. He happily reciprocated your soft kisses as his eyelashes fluttered against your cheekbones and he breathed in your air.

You couldn’t stop, you needed him. You needed to drink every ounce of him up, you needed to feel him all over you, you needed his soft hands to touch you and hold you to him. It was as though, suddenly, you were overcome by desperation, or better yet, adoration.

He sighed softly, fanning soft air onto you as one of his hands cupped your neck, the other finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him still. You gladly obliged, pressing your chest against his and kissing him like he was your final breath, your only lifeline.

Theo felt giddy at the sudden attention on him. Your experimental hand dragged over his chest and slowly down over his stomach. He couldn’t help but squirm in anticipation at the idea of your hand trialling any lower. Your fingers entwined in the waistband of his sweats and you ran your fingertips lightly over the edge of the fabric.

By the sounds that he was making, you could tell that he needed you just as much you needed him.

Your pinky preached the top of his bottoms and ran over the slowly tanning skin of his abdomen as he kissed over your cheek and jaw. His pillowy lips traced over the curve of your jaw, leaving hot and damp hair to travel down your neck as his breath began to deepen upon your fingers trailing beneath his bottoms.

You pulled back, the ghost of your lips hovered over his as you watched for his reaction as your fingers began to brush over the tiny curls at the base of his cock. Slowly, they came into contact with the ache that Theo so desperately wanted to ignore, until your smooth hands were wrapped around it, he could have died on the spot.

His head flew back against the pillow, his eyes shut and his brows pulled into a deep frown, not of perplexity, but of utter pleasure. Your grip tightened ever so slightly around the thickness of his dick and he keened from where he lay. His mouth tipped open, so you opted to kiss around the apples of his cheeks, over every mole and dimple, further down over his neck and in the sickly sweet spot behind his ear, whispering for him to take off his top.

Theo couldn’t help but shiver as he peeled off his jumper, revealing him to the cool air and your piercing gaze. Every inch of his gorgeous skin was kissed by the sun, leaving freckles and birthmarks in its wake. You made sure to do the same, bending your head to press your lips against the moles on his collarbones. Theo sighed softly as you began to work your hand as best as you could whilst it was restricted by the fabric of his underwear, the sound carrying through the room. Merlin, he hadn’t even taken the rest of his clothing yet, but you felt him in the place where you needed him most, and he was big.

His slender hand soothed over your back as you sucked light purple bruises into his chest and neck while you pumped at his cock, encouraging you to do something, anything further. He didn’t know if he could take any more anticipation. He’d been waiting for you to allow him the chance to sink into you at last, but he was so desperate and pussy-whipped that anything would do. He waited patiently and happily for his climax and inevitably cumming in his pants again, until you slipped your hand back out of his underwear.

You looked up at him with desire on your face and he knew what you’d ask. “Take these off.” You told him and he obeyed.

Theo thought you could ask him anything and he’d obey, just like a slave to your command, not that he’d mind. It was just one of the many things he’d do for you in order to satisfy you.

He lay before you, nearly bare except for his underwear which did nothing to conceal the embarrassingly obvious fact of his need. His chest lifted up and down as his lungs worked double time and you eyed him admiringly. Despite the hardness beneath his boxers, you gently squeezed him through the fabric, enjoying the tortured whine he gave out.

You hushed him sweetly, rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip with a grin. His eyes lit up with desperation. You booked a finger beneath the band of his boxers, yanking them firmly, and with his help, he became entirely exposed to you. You still wore your nightgown, which he eyed hopefully, but you made no move to take it off just then.

The lower you took your body, the higher Theo’s heart rate became, until your face was just above his crotch and he swore that he felt his heart stop. Testing the waters, your hand wrapped around him once again and brought your mouth down to place a teasing kiss over the tip of his dick. He puffed out a breath that he never knew he was holding and entangled a hand in your hair.

Slowly, you grazed the underside of his cock with your tongue, trailing over the soft skin with ease, wetting it with your saliva. You continued to do so, each time your tongue met the tip, you’d broaden your tongue and do the same thing over again as he grew more and more restless each time. You placed a reassuring hand on his thigh as they began to tremble and your thumb rubbed the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, dangerously close to the curve of his balls. His head pressed harshly into the pillows behind him as he panted.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you took the very tip of his dick into your lips, surprising you at how much bigger he was than you thought. You sucked, hard, and he let out a deep moan at the sensation. It was an unusual situation to you, but you found that you could learn quickly about what he liked, so you continued to suck. Your hand pumped his length as you suckled and licked at his tip, gaining confidence as his noises grew louder.

His cock began to throb and his balls tightened, the only warning he was able to give being the grip on your hair clamping down. That was when you pulled off of him with a ‘pop’.

“But- Wh-“ He began, but you cut him off with a kiss, enjoying how quick he was to melt into your sudden affection.

You didn’t give him long to ponder as you slipped your nightgown over your head, revealing your naked body for him to see. His intense gaze lingered over your chest before it trailed down to your wet pussy. You supposed he was half expecting for you to sit on his face like you often did, but you took him by surprise when you asked him:

“Are you gonna let me fuck you?”

Of course he was, how couldn’t he? All he’d wanted since he saw you in the big white dress at the wedding was to take you to bed and make love to you. And now that you were finally going to allow him the honour? How could he say no?

“Merlin, yes!” He rasped, watching you as you swung a leg over his hips as though mounting a horse. His eyes didn’t know where to look, so they raked over you as he prepared for you to take him.

You smiled sweetly, leaning down to peck his lips with your own. You took him into your hand and dragged his tip over your soaked folds; you had no idea how much pleasure it gave you to hear him whine. Finally, you lined his tip up against where you needed him most and sunk down onto him.

Theo felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him, you were right above him, as beautiful as the sun and the sky and he’d never felt such bliss. For a second, he swore he saw heaven.

That was until you started to move, and he was rendered powerless against the pleasure you were giving him. He moaned fully now, head twisting into the pillow as though it would give him some relief to be rid of the sight of you. He couldn’t take it, he was sure to come just by looking at you. His mouth was hung open as though he was screaming in agony, except he was only tensing in pure unbridled pleasure.

His length hit against the most dangerous of angles inside of you, sending shocks up your spine as you clenched around him. The twinge of pain you’d felt at the initial stretch had quickly subsided as you began to bounce on top of him and was replaced by a blinding blood rush to your head. You felt dizzy, only it was in the best way possible.

With each brush against his skin, your clit was stimulated, forcing you to let out a sigh each time. He poured every inch of his soul into yours with every breath he took, watching you like a lifetime of his memories and future all at once, worshipping at your altar of your goddess. He’d serve you, he’d obey, he’d care for you, if you allowed him.

You let out a loud cry as his hips jolted from the bed, pressing against your cervix in a sudden pain, though it soon dissipated, soothing into sparks of pleasure. He forced his weight off of the bed in time with you, encased to the hilt of his cock in your soft pussy. And with every meeting of your hips, the warmth in your belly loosened, allowing you to steal bursts of pleasure for your body. Heat throbbed over your body and your heart pounded, you were so close.

And then it stopped. Theo pulled you off of him with a firm grip, eyes wide, pupils dilated. He looked almost feral as you frowned up at him as he took his place above you. Without wasting a second, his lips were on you, trailing over your chest and sucking your nipples into his mouth.

His hand lowered down to where you needed him the most, guiding his painfully hard dick into your tight entrance, sighing as you squeezed him to nicely. The softness of his hair on your sternum, the kindness of his hands and the noises he made, it was all taking its toll on you. You were surrounded by him, his arms encasing you, the warmth from his body still on the sheets that you rested against, his dick inside of you. He was everything in that moment.

The slapping of skin filled the air as he drove his hips harder and faster with each pull of your charm. He let out a choked sigh as he pounded into you, chasing his high more desperately than he ever had. His constant motion made you clench around him, feeling your orgasm creep up through your spine.

“Theo!” You gasped, and he responded with a pitiful whimper. He’d dreamed about the way that you’d cry his name, about this very situation. It was feeling so real, so much. He couldn’t help but be dragged closer to the edge.

He buried his hot face into your hair, moaning with each thrust of his hips, his feet pushing against the sheets to look for any way to sink deeper into you.

Your body erupted with the winding of warmth and unbearable pleasure. Your orgasm washed over you like a tide as Theo’s body met your own. You tensed and it was like nothing you’d ever felt before, your thighs shook from where they were wrapped around his hips and your hand clawed at his scalp like you could pull yourself up from the fire of hell. But nothing felt better than the flames licking at your skin.

He couldn’t help but feel bus eyes water with tears as he so desperately wanted to scream. His climax hit him like a brick straight to the face, so much that he could hardly feel his own body. He tried to cry out, but it was as though you had complete control over his body as you shared your pleasure like treasured goods.

You felt him still, pushing into you as much as he could. That was when you felt him spill into you, a kind of warmth pouring into you, you realised that he’d just come inside of you, not that you minded. His skin was moist as he slipped his weight on top of you, and every inch of you was now touching him. You could get used to it.

You wondered if his nightly visits would escalate to this in the future. You certainly hoped so.

pt.1

#harry potter #harry potter fic #theodore nott #sub! theo nott #theodore nott one shot #theo nott one shot #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #switch!theo nott #smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott x you

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ladysharmaa · 9 months ago

Text

Break in

Jay Halstead x reader

summary: when Jay's girlfriend is home alone while he's at Molly's, someone tries to break into their house

Y/n was looking disinterestedly through the fridge, closing it with a sigh when she couldn't find anything to eat that she felt like. It was a slow night, her workday had been quiet at the hospital, with only a few patients showing up.

Her boyfriend, Jay, had invited her to join him and the rest of the police department at Molly's. However, she refused, wanting him to spend quality time with his friends, feeling that she had already stolen him from them long enough after he took a few days to take care of her after she fell ill.

Detective Chuckles: Is everything okay out there? The guys miss you! Wish you could be here with me :(

The ringing of her cell phone snapped her out of her thoughts, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she read Jay's message. But she couldn't deny the butterflies that invaded her stomach knowing he was thinking about her. Their relationship was relatively recent, but they had never felt stronger love.

Jay once revealed to her that he realized she was the most important person to him when he was called on an undercover mission. They had only been dating for about 2 months. When he returned, after all the time they hadn't been together, he was shocked to see her waiting for him. He thought she had abandoned him, realizing that she couldn't live with his job, but he was wrong. He ran to her, picking her up and spinning her around a little, her laughter echoing through the room.

After answering his text, Y/n lay down on the couch, watching a movie while waiting for her boyfriend to come home. She didn't even notice when, halfway through the movie, her eyes started to get heavy, and she gave in to sleep.

She woke up again when she heard the lock on the front door click, almost as if someone was trying to get in. Too lazy to get up, thinking it was Jay trying to get in, Y/n tried to call him to remind him he had a key, in case he was already a little tipsy.

At the end of the second ring, the cop answered, but something made Y/n freeze in place, glancing at the door in alarm. She could hear the noise coming from the other people at the bar, meaning he wasn't the one at the door.

"Baby, you there? Is everything okay?" Jay's voice brought her back to reality.

"Jay, aren't you the one trying to get in by any chance?" her voice shook, still standing in the same spot on the edge of the sofa, now raised.

"What? Guys, shut up, I can't hear Y/n. Baby, I told you I'm at the bar with the rest of the group." his voice immediately became serious. "Why? What's happening?"

"Jay, I think someone is trying to get in." Y/n muttered, holding the phone tighter to stop it from falling due to the shaking of her hands. Her wide, frightened eyes were fixed on the door.

As soon as those words left her mouth, Y/n heard a noise on the other side — Jay was shouting something to Severide. Then, there was silence until the sound of Jay's jeep engine was heard.

"Y/n, I need you to listen to me very carefully. You go to our room and lock the door. Then you go to the bathroom and stay in the bathtub until I come and get you. No one else, just me. Do you think you can do that?"

From Jay's voice, Y/n noticed that he went into police mode, speaking calmly but with authority. In fact, this was just so he wouldn't lose control and be able to help his girlfriend, despite the fear that was spreading throughout his body.

"I need verbal responses, baby. Do you understand?"

"I understand." her voice shook.

"Good girl. Everything's going to be okay." Jay tried to comfort her, breaking all the traffic rules and having the sirens on to get home faster.

His heart was tightening in his chest, almost stopping him from breathing. He blamed himself, he knew he should have stayed at home with Y/n, and now she was in danger, and he couldn't protect her.

Behind him, Severide followed him in his vehicle on a 911 call.

"I'm scared, Jay." Y/n's scared voice caught the police officer's attention.

"I know, baby, I know. But I need you to be brave until I arrive. I won't let anything happen to you. I just need you to hold on and then we'll finally go to bed and cuddle. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah." She felt tears coming to her eyes but tried not to let them fall. Just like Jay said, she had to be brave until he came to save her.

Y/n then started to go to her room until she stopped halfway up the stairs when the front door handle stopped turning. For a moment, she thought she was exaggerating and it was just someone who made a mistake in the house. But the panic returned when the automatic rear light came on, indicating that someone had passed by.

Jay only heard the gasp she let out. "What? What's happening?! You need to talk to me, Y/N."

"I think they're trying to get in through the back. I don't know if I locked that door!" She stopped her speech suddenly. "Oh god, I just remembered I left Missy sleeping in the kitchen."

"Y/n, do not go in there just because of the fucking cat!"

Jay didn't even like the little furball who seemed to hate him from the moment Y/n started dating him. However, he knew that his girlfriend would never forgive herself if something happened to the cat.

"Don't scream at me! I would be such a bad owner if I didn't come back to get my cat."

"I don't care about the damn cat when you're in danger!" Jay argued, but he knew Y/n was already heading downstairs to get Missy.

When Y/n arrived, she quickly found the animal on the dining table, looking super calm, an emotion quite contrary to what Y/n was feeling. Picking her up and quickly kissing her head, the girl thought about what her next step in the plan would be: go back up the stairs or find another place to hide.

However, the intruders finally opened the door, and the choice became obvious. Y/n quickly ducked and hid behind the kitchen counter so she wouldn't be seen. On all fours and with Missy under her arm, she grabbed a knife and tried, as silently as possible, to head towards the pantry.

"Y/n, don't go silent on me. Tell me what's going on. I'm three minutes away."

"They're here, Jay. I'm in the pantry with a knife." Her breaths were ragged and shuddering. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying. "I was so stupid. Why didn't I do what you said? I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. God, don't apologize, sweetheart." Jay muttered with a heavy heart, running his hand over his face in despair, never having felt greater helplessness.

"They're getting closer." Y/n whispered, closing her eyes and holding her hand in front of her mouth so you wouldn't hear her heavy breathing. Jay slammed his hands on the steering wheel, clenching his jaw and thinking about what he could say to his girlfriend. "I love you, Jay. So much."

"Don't say that like it's goodbye, Y/n. I can't take it." He shook his head, using all his strength not to break down and burst into tears. "I'm almost there. One minute."

But Y/n was no longer able to respond. That's because a man, dressed all in black, entered the kitchen and looked around. She was peeking through the pantry bars, hoping he wouldn't be able to hear her and that Missy kept quiet.

She just had to hold on for one minute. Jay would be there on time. Either way, she held the knife in front of her, ready to attack. But deep down, she knew she had no chance against the muscular man. Very easily he would be able to throw her down and take the knife from her. But she wouldn't go down without a fight.

She knew that if it came to that, she would have to try to scratch him to get his DNA under her nails. That way Jay and his team would have a better chance of catching this man.

The man got closer and closer to the pantry. Y/n's hands were shaking uncontrollably. She just wanted to close her eyes and discover that it was all a nightmare. But as much as she wanted to, this was reality and the fact that she could die that day became more and more real and scary.

She didn't want to die without kissing Jay one last time. Without calling her parents to tell them she loved them. Without telling her best friend she should take the first step and text the boy she liked. She wanted to be a mother. She wanted to marry Jay and experience an eternity with him.

But just as she was ready to run out with the knife pointed at him as soon as he opened the pantry door, the man was pulled aside. She heard a moan of pain followed by things falling to the floor. Y/n wanted to go out and see what was happening, but Jay's words echoed in her head: stay hidden until he came to get her.

And then came immense relief. She heard sirens. Before she could process everything that was happening, the pantry door opened. Y/n, in a moment of panic, got up and tried to attack, the person easily dodging and putting his hands up in defense. It was only then that she realized that the person in front of her was Jay, and the intruder was on the ground, bruised, and being arrested by another police officer.

Missy, with all the commotion, quickly ran up the stairs, probably hiding in the guest room until things calmed down. In turn, Y/n dropped the knife on the floor, her face contorting and her lips trembling. She began to cry, finally releasing all the panic and fear she felt. She was pulled into Jay's arms and into his chest.

With his arms around her, feeling his warmth and the movements of his chest, Y/n finally felt safe. Jay kissed her head, saying words of comfort in hopes that she would calm down.

"Jay…" she cried, grabbing his shirt with a very tight grip.

"I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. You're safe. Shh…"

Jay then just pushed her away slightly, holding her face with both of his hands. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay. I was so scared."

"I know, baby. But you were so brave, I'm so proud of you. And I'll never let this happen again, I promise." he gave her a small kiss on the lips, pulling her back to him. She would never disappear from his sight again.

"Hey, sweetheart." Gabby's voice broke the moment between her and Jay. Y/n she turned her head to look at the woman she adored so much, only now realizing that Severide and Brett were watching the scene from afar. However, she continued to grab Jay's shirt, ensuring he stayed close to her. "Do you mind if we go to the ambulance just to make sure everything is okay?"

A moment of hesitation. Brett, realizing the problem, stepped forward and with a gentle smile said, "Jay can come too."

So, Y/n nodded in permission, following the paramedics to the ambulance. Outside, there were two more police cars and neighbors were in front of their houses in their pajamas to see what was going on. Always under Jay's arm, Y/n waited for Dawson and Brett to do their assessment, ensuring that everything was really okay.

After ensuring that there was no need to go to the hospital, despite a lot of resistance on Jay's part, Y/n won the argument with the condition that the next day, Will would stop by to check on her. But at that moment, Y/n just wanted to sleep with Jay next to her.

Once in bed, the man had one arm over her protectively, making sure there was no space between them. "I will protect you until the end of my life. I love you."

"I love you too." she looked at him with just love in her eyes. Finding a more comfortable position, Y/n closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

But Jay stayed up all night. The most important thing is that Y/n recovers after that traumatizing night. And if she had any nightmares, he would be there to protect her.

#chicago pd #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x y/n #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #will halstead x reader #jay halstead x female reader

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sanguineterrain · 6 months ago

Note

Hello! I recently found your blog and bruh I'M SMITTEN by your works.

Would it be alright if I requested Jason Todd x gn reader (also vigilante but only works on small cases and in safer places... Jason wouldn't let them anywhere else after a heavy injury they sustained in the past)...

Maybe they're searching for clues in one of the alleys and reader finds a baby there and takes it home (or maybe they fall upon a tired-looking woman throwing her baby over the bridge, reader manages to catch it but when they get back up the woman is gone)? Just overall how would Jason react to his partner finding a kid and bringing it home and what would happen after.

I made myself laugh bc I thought Jason would be like "good thing you went home and not to a bat cave, can't handle another sibling, the last one is already a living hell.

And I wanted to ask if it would be alright if I requested more than just one thing? Completely fine if not.

❤️❤️❤️

This is a super cute prompt!! Thanks for sending it in. And yes feel free to send more than one request 💓

Jason Todd x gn!reader. Abandoned baby, established relationship, Jason being a cutie patootie.

****

You find the baby in a grocery store basket stuffed with blankets behind a Walmart.

She's a tiny thing, with fat cheeks and a permanent wrinkle between her brow. She's frighteningly quiet.

You take her home.

Home has become synonymous with Jason's apartment. At some point, it just made more sense for you to move in long-term. Jason had gingerly brought it up to you one night and kissed you hard when you'd said yes.

You pick up some formula on the way home and a few other things. The baby starts to cry after a bit, to your relief, and after feeding and changing her, you sway her until she falls asleep.

You're content to hold her until you get a crib. You fully intend to do so.

You hear the first lock turn, then the second, then the third. There's no worry that Jason will wake the baby; he always enters a building like he's casing it.

You have the TV turned down low, channel switched to some late-night sitcom. Jason comes in and closes the door with his foot. He takes off his helmet, revealing his messy curls. You smile.

"Hey, Jaybird," you say.

Jason glances at you as he walks to the bedroom, unzipping his vest as he goes. He grins tiredly.

"Hey, sweetheart. Hello, baby."

You watch him disappear into the bedroom. The baby is still fast asleep. You adjust your legs to get more comfortable in the chair.

Jason backs out of the room a moment later, gear still on. His vest is half-unzipped.

"That's a baby," he says.

You nod. "Yep."

Jason pulls a face like he's doing calculus in his head. "Did—do we have a... did I...?"

"How would that even work, Jason?"

"Look, there's many ways that can happen! Y'know how many freakin' clones are in this city? My freakazoid brother could get you a genetically engineered baby in twelve hours."

"She is an organically produced baby not related to either of us. Okay?"

"Oh. Sure, yeah." Jason starts to turn, then comes back. "Wait, no, I still have questions. Why do you have a baby?"

"I found her."

Jason squints at you, then at the baby. "You found her."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't think that'll hold up in court, sweets."

"Relax, Jason. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she was abandoned. I found her behind a Walmart. I know I could've dropped her at the hospital, but I just..." You look down at her sleeping face. "She's just so little. And she needs human contact. Nurses are already overworked as it is. What harm is in taking her home?"

"Yeah, y'know what that is? A siren song. Pretty soon, you'll be fitting her for a domino mask and dressing her like a traffic light."

You roll your eyes. "Don't be silly. I wouldn't dare try to take Damian's title. Plus, traffic light color palettes are so outdated."

Jason pouts. "Are not."

You carefully stand, baby in your arms, and walk over to peck Jason on his cheek.

"Are too. Wanna hold her?"

Jason looks at her like she's a bomb. "I dunno. I might... what if I... hurt her?"

You frown. "You wouldn't hurt her, Jaybird."

"I might hold her wrong or make her cry, and then I'll have to throw myself off the roof."

"You are such a drama king. She's sleeping like a log. You won't wake her unless you scream in her ear."

Before Jason can reply, you're unloading her into his arms. He jumps into action, arms and hands awkward but trying. You smile gently.

"Put her head in the crook of your elbow. Yeah, good. Support her butt. Both arms. Yeah, good! Good job, honey."

You pat his arm. Jason looks spooked for a second, then seems to relax when she doesn't stir. She's cradled in his arms like she was made to fit there.

"Isn't she so cute?" you whisper.

"She is really cute. So small. God." He watches her for a moment, mouth downturned. "I was a small baby too."

"I bet you were a cute baby," you say, tucking a curl behind Jason's ear.

"Oh, sure. People came from all over the world to have a gander at the cutest baby on the planet. Looks like she's taken my title."

Jason starts to sway lightly, holding her like she's gold. You feel your face soften.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he looks up after a moment like he's expecting you to correct his posture. "What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. Just... I'm just really in love with you, Jay."

Jason's cheeks turn pink. He bites the inside of his cheek.

"Oh. I'm, uh, really in love with you too."

You kiss him properly for that, and Jason hums into your mouth, then pulls back slightly.

"We can't keep the baby. Y'know that, right? I gotta marry you properly first," Jason says against your lips.

"This is the twenty-first century, buddy. People keep babies all the time, unwed or not."

"Yeah, I know. Still wanna marry you first."

You look down at the baby and give her an air kiss. Then you look up at Jason, putting on the saddest face you can muster. He sighs.

"Well," he says, gently touching her fingers. "Maybe we can keep her for a little while."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x gender neutral reader #red hood x y/n #dc fanfic #batman fanfiction #jason todd imagine #inbox #blurb

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rottenaero · 2 years ago

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Ao3

Part 1

Part 3

Part two to the roommates idea

Whenever the mall ‘burns down’, Eddie is just chilling at home; not doing anything special.

Actually, thats a complete lie. He hadn't seen Steve since he left for his shift the day before, and currently has his band+Wayne scattered in the living room as he paces.

“He may as well be dead, he always calls before staying the night somewhere, and he totally despises that place, so why would he stay after hours?” He comes to a halt infront of Jeff who looks considering. “What?!"

“Maybe, consider, he just forgot to call you." Eddie scoffed, “ ‘Maybe he just forgot’, except you don't know him, Jeff. Steve doesn't forget, tell ‘em Wayne."

Wayne nods from his spot on the lazyboy, “ ‘S true, he'd rather call at 2am than have us worrying.”

Gareth rolls his eyes, “Look Edmund, I get your worried about you boyfriend and all but why did we have to get dragged into this?" He complained, and Eddie began pacing again.

“ Not,my boyfriend, yet, and you’re getting-”

A ringing interrupts him.

The pacing stopped almost as soon as it began, and he darts to the phone. “ Y’hello, it's Eddie talking.” A sharp breath drew from the other end of the line.

“Hey Eds."

Eddie smiled, “Holy shit, Stevie. I thought you died. Wayne and the guys are literally gathered in the living room.” Upon hearing the name, Wayne visibly relaxed, going from hunched over to leaning backwards in seconds.

“Yeah I'm- Well shit not okay but I'm not dead.”In the background there was a noise, barely noticeable but-

“Wait, what? Are those sirens? Are you hurt? What the hell-” Wayne leaned forward again.

“I'm at the mall, there's been, uh, an accident? I don't- they took my keys, I need a ride back home.”

“Who took your keys? Steve you can't just be all ominous and-” The phone line shut off. "Fuck!”

Grant, who hasn't been helpful at all, stood up. "What did he do?”

Eddie groans, running a hand through his greasy hair, “Needs us to pick him up, might be hurt. He's such a- Wayne we're taking my van, you guys coming?”

Turns out the answer is yes.

They arrive at the mall five minutes later, mostly because Eddie was driving like a bat outta hell, to every emergency vehicle you can think of, plus thirty more, surrounding the place.

Eddie roles his window down when a cop signals him. “What are you doing over here?"

The metalhead bites his lip, what the hell, “Uh, I'm here to pick up Steve Harrington? He got involved in whatever's happening.”

The cops nods, "Alright, park your vehicle over there, and go get him.”

He does as he's told, a surprising feat showing just how scared he was, because Steve being hurt could mean so many things.

They get out the car, Wayne being the leading man, and head to where the commotion is.

The mall was totally destroyed, a couple kids he didn't know were sitting around, surrounded by their parents, there's a couple teens too, Nancy Wheeler, Johnny Byers, a girl in a sailor costume, and-

Eddie’s heart stopped and he fucking sped forward. “ Holy shit, what the fuck man." Steve looked like hell, understatement of the century but-

His face was bruised and bloody, his hands wrapped in casts, his hair was flat and gross and he was still in his damn sailor costume.

“Hey Munsons, Gareth, Jeff, Grant. It's the whole Scooby gang, or Smurfs, whoever you prefer.” Eddie grabbed his shoulders, and stared him dead in the eye. “ What. The. Fuck. Are you high too?!”

“Just what the hell did you get yourself into. " Wayne said more than asked, shaking his head.

Steve buzzed his lips, his eyebrows furrowed and he brought a hand to them and-

God they were split, and bleeding now. He looked back up at the long haired man infront of him, ignoring Wayne's question-not-question.

“Nah, just recovering from being drugged. Hey this is rivveting conversation and shit, but like, I wanna go home and sleep in your bed, man. Or the couch, or the floor.”

He let out a loud laugh, “Fuck I am not picky right now, I'll even take the back of the van.”

“Christ."

They don't talk about it, not after Hellfire goes home, not the next morning, not after Steve heals. They just don't, because the news told them all they need to know, that there was a fire. Eddie just assumed when they said he was drugged, that he meant medically.

(He didn't)

#stranger Things #steddie ficlet #steddie #ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #and they were roommates #oh my god they were roommates #crisisinverted17 #crisisinverted17's roommate au

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orionremastered · 11 months ago

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Damian Wayne x Paramedic!Reader

Soulmate AU

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

CW: Poisoning, respiratory failure (just another Tuesday in Gotham)

When you were born, your parents were eager to see the first words of your soulmate written on your left forearm. You were woken from your sleep, wrapped in a soft blanket, when your mother gently took out your arm from the fluffy fabric.

Yet when she saw the words- no, word, singular- she paled. Your father leaned over and froze to a statue. Written on your wrist was;

Poison.

Yet your family's reaction wasn't even comparable to the confusion felt by the Al Ghul's in Nanda Parbat. When Talia read the words on her son's forearm, she could feel her heart stop for a moment.

You need to breathe.

The first words that the soulmate of Damian- the next Demon Head, next leader of the League of Assassins and the most intimidating and highly-trained man on Earth- would ever say to him shook Talia and Ra's to their core.

And once Damian was old enough to know what it meant, it shook him too.

Twenty Two Years Later...

The day started out as normal; you say hello to Harper, your partner in your ambulance unit, handing him a coffee before getting into the ambulance for a long twelve hour day shift, the day after Halloween.

"I don't want to be here," Harper says immediately.

"Neither," you reply before you pull out of the station and out into the street.

Not two seconds later, a beep sounds and Harper reads from the computer beside him; "Twenty-two year old male has collapsed and is struggling to breathe. Wayne Tower building on the top floor- that elevator better be in service or you're crashing this ambulance into a brick wall."

You snort, flicking on lights and sirens due to the nature of the incident and speed off towards the tower. You don't even need directions; the building looms over the entire city like a god and is a beacon of wealth- something two underpaid paramedics definitely do not have.

Arriving on scene and parking the ambulance hastily so that the back doors opened right next to the entrance, the two of you pull out the stretcher and rush into the building, many thoughts filling your mind as you reach the elevator- luckily in service- and hit the button for the top floor.

What could it be? Countless nights spent studying rather than sleeping fill your head as you sort through knowledge.

The elevator seemed to take forever, and maybe it did- this tower is extremely tall after all. You and Harper exchange glances just before the doors open.

Moving swiftly to the meeting room, full of businessmen in suits, your gazes are immediately drawn to the man on the floor.

Damian Wayne. Probably one of the few people who never needs to introduce himself.

He's not just struggling to breathe; you reckon he's paralyzed, too. Something sours in your gut as you crouch behind his head, Harper at his feet.

The Wayne's eyes lock onto yours as he takes in a raspy breath. "Poison," he chokes out. The words don't register just yet as the two of you lift him up from the floor and onto the stretcher.

"You need to breathe," you chide, and swear his eyes widen the slightest fraction. Harper straps him to the stretcher before giving you a nod. The only other person more famous than Damian follows you when you and Harper walk out with the stretcher. Bruce Wayne.

The elevator ride seems even slower going down. Bruce grips the side of the stretcher, knuckles white as Damian fights for each breath he wishes to take. But every second or so, Bruce's gaze flicks to you and makes you prickle with unease. Soon you realise Harper is doing the same thing.

Why- It hits you like a semi truck hitting a motorcyclist without a helmet on a highway. Damian Wayne's first word to you was 'poison', the same as it is written on your forearm.

The elevator dings and the door slides open. When you finally get him into the ambulance, Harper tosses you the keys without a word and settles beside the stretcher in the back, Bruce beside him.

You'll thank Harper later; right now, you need to get your soulmate to hospital.

"You should go check on him," Harper says at the end of your shift after handing the keys to the next crew. The two of you walk to the parking lot, tired and still processing the things you've seen. "Like, now. You've been angsty all shift."

"How can I not be?" you sigh. "Yeah, I guess I will, then. See you in two days."

Getting in your car, you pull out the parking lot and out into Gotham. The sky's getting dark- or darker- and the traffic is thinning. No one wants to be out at night, especially first responders. Yet instead of going straight home like normal, you drive to Gotham General Hospital.

The lady at the front desk frowns slightly when you ask for Damian Wayne. It's understandable; you're practically a nobody yet you're one of the most important people in the city.

"You are not immediate family or friends," the nurse says after a long back and forth. You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything you'll regret, but then again, she's a nurse. Nurses and paramedics don't get along.

"She's allowed," a low voice says from the hallway. Bruce Wayne, now changed into more comfortable clothing, looks almost as tired as you. Almost. He beckons for you to follow, leaving the nurse at the front desk flustered.

Damian's ward is private and more... luxury, if that's even a word used in the sense of hospitals. He's still asleep, and you find yourself checking his vitals with a glance. Not too bad, all things considered. He's definitely breathing better.

A weight lifts from you chest as you take a seat beside his bed. Bruce sits beside you in almost a casual way, yet you couldn't be further apart.

"What was it?" you say after a long moment of silence.

"Pardon?"

"The poison. He said it was poison."

"... right. It was curare," Bruce responds, rubbing his eyes. "Someone poisoned him with curare."

The only question left to answer now was who.

~~~

Masterlist

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #x reader

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

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CONGRATULATIONS ON 7K MAE THAT’S AMAZING YAYAYAYAYAYAYA 😭 could i please have an apple pie with sirius and prompt 27? 💖

Of course you can!

²⁷⁾ sirens at midnight

neighbor!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 528 words

You spot Sirius as soon as he comes outside, though you tell yourself you weren’t looking for him. He’s got a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his hair is disheveled and poofy. He squints in the streetlight, looking through the sea of your neighbors until he finds you, too.

You wave lamely.

He makes his way over. The fire alarm from your apartment building is nearly deafening even outside. Even when Sirius is right in front of you, you have to raise your voice to be heard.

“Glad to see you’re not charred beyond recognition.”

“I tried to go back to sleep for awhile,” Sirius replies. “I hoped it might shut up. Who set it off?”

You shake your head, pulling your coat tighter around you as the wind picks up. You’re only wearing your pajamas underneath, much like everyone else here. “I don’t know.”

Sirius pulls his blanket closer, too, glowering all your neighbors around you. “I’m gonna kill them.”

“Oh.” You can’t find it in you to be surprised, but you do yawn, covering your mouth with a hand. “I don’t know how you’d have the energy.”

“I’ll find it.” Sirius joins you, leaning against the side of your building.

“When do you think they’ll let us back in?” you ask.

He groans. “It’ll probably be forever. The fire department has to come, and they have to sweep everything…I may as well go in to work now.”

“Dressed like that?”

Sirius gives you a sideways grin. “They’re lucky I come in at all. And if the blanket slips a bit, it’ll probably just earn me some extra tips.”

You laugh. “Are you not wearing pajamas underneath?”

“I’m wearing my pajamas. Some of us choose more modesty in bed than others, gorgeous.”

Your face heats ferociously, but the silence that lapses between you isn’t uncomfortable. You watch your neighbors try to calm frenetic pets, swap coats and coverings against the chill, fall asleep on each other while sitting on the curb. Despite the wailing of the alarm, your own eyelids start to feel heavy again.

When it finally cuts out, your relief is so immense you drop your head to Sirius’ shoulder without a thought.

“Thank god,” you mumble.

“What was that?” Sirius teases. “My ears are still ringing.”

In the new silence, you hear sirens approaching. Red lights glow in the distance.

“That’ll be the fire crew,” he says. You realize your head is still on his shoulder, and you lift it to find Sirius looking at you. He seems more awake than he had been. “Do you want to get out of here for a while? We could grab a coffee and wait them out.”

“Is anywhere even open right now?”

“Absolutely.” He gestures down the block with his chin. “That cafe there? Open twenty four hours a day, just for us.”

“Nice of them. Are you okay to go like that?” you ask, though you’re already walking with him.

“What, like this?” Sirius spreads his arms halfway open, giving you a brief view of his tattooed chest and boxers. “Sweetness, I might even get us a free meal. Don’t worry about me.”

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samuelsdean · 6 months ago

Text

Stay With Me

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: "you’ve been shot countless times, huh?” “that sounded a bit more reassuring in my head.”

genre: angst & fluff

word count: 1.1k

author's notes: almost a year of no writing, but i'm finally home (i posted a new fic)! it's been one hectic year for me. uni was crazy & i started my clinical rotations. plus, i did my thesis & it even got a distinction mark so i'll be presenting it at a research congress pretty soon (yay!). with that, i'm really sorry for ghosting ao3 & tumblr. i couldn't find the time to insert it in between uni & breaking down lol. anyway, i'll be posting a lot more while i'm on break. i hope you'll enjoy reading my first fic after a year of zzz. have fun!

YOU CAN HEAR SIRENS AND PEOPLE SHOUTING.

They say when you are knocking on death’s door, hearing is the last of your senses you will lose. If you’re dying, you don’t know it. Nothing makes sense at the moment. It’s all just blurry hues of blues and reds and shouting—Stay with me—the smell of something metallic. The only thing you’re sure of right now is that your head hurts and it seemed like a van ran right through you with how achy your body feels right now.

Who’s that? You mused. Why are they yelling at me? I’m right here. You turned your head slightly and tried to open your eyes.

It’s quite the task.

“T-That’s it,” The person, whom you think was yelling at you, said. “Stay with me, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes.”

You groaned and gripped the person's hand tightly as if to stand up, but you couldn't. Everything ached. And the person holding you, just kept on talking, their voice a low murmur at first. But even through the haze of pain, it was starting to sound familiar. You recognized that dulcet tone, the rich, smooth sound that could captivate your attention with random facts or lull you to sleep with equal ease.

The voice, you realized with a flicker of a smile, belonged to Spencer, its familiar cadence a warm current cutting through the blossoming pain.

“Reid?” You croaked.

Your throat’s dryer than any other desert in existence right now. And you sound worse than you look—you think—you don’t know for sure, except the fact that you can’t move much.

“It’s me,” Spencer chuckled while sniffling. “I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?”

Even through the haze of pain, a new wave of discomfort bloomed in your shoulder, sharp and insistent. Before you could react and get up, Spencer's hand tightened on yours, his voice laced with a tremor you'd never heard before. "Don't move, Y/N. You've been shot."

He applied pressure on your wound—which you just noticed. The pain hit you in a delayed wave, a white-hot stab that stole your breath. You hissed a weak sound that did little to mask the spike in your heart rate.

"Stop moving or you're gonna bleed out even more!" Spencer's voice, usually so calm and collected, was laced with a raw panic you'd never heard before.

"Easy there, tiger," you tried to joke, your voice raspy. "I've been through worse. I’ve been shot countless times. W-why are you so worried?"

The question came out in a shaky whisper, the concern evident in his voice a stark contrast to the usual intellectual debates you shared.

Spencer's grip tightened, momentarily cutting off your circulation. "Because you could have died, Y/N!" he snapped, his voice cracking with a choked sob. "You… you were…"

He trailed off, unable to put into words the terrifying image that had flashed before him when he saw you collapse, after hearing the sound of a bullet whizzing by and hitting you.

The sight of your vulnerability stripped away his usual composure, leaving a raw fear he couldn't conceal. It took him a moment to regain his composure, his voice softening as he continued, "You shouldn't be so glib about this. It was a nasty shot, close to a major artery."

Despite the pain, a warmth bloomed in your chest. You'd never seen Spencer like this, so shaken and afraid.

"Okay," you murmured, forcing a weak snicker. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, at least I got you to patch me up, right, Dr.Reid?"

A ghost of a smile glinted across his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Hold still," he mumbled, amused but also bothered at your dreadful timing for jokes. He applied pressure more gently this time. "You’ve been shot countless times, huh?”

“That sounded a bit more reassuring in my head” You quipped.

A bit lightheaded from the pain, you clutched Spencer’s hand. The shriek of approaching sirens and the glare of headlights cut through the haze. You struggled to focus on the lifeline thrown in a storm of confusion.

"They're here," Spencer said, his voice tight. A sheen of sweat beaded on his forehead, a stark contrast to his usual cool composure.

"About time," you rasped, trying to lighten the mood. The effort cost you a fresh wave of dizziness, the world tilting slightly on its axis.

To which, Spencer shot you a look that was half-annoyed, half-worried. "Don't try to be a hero. You're losing a lot of blood. Any movement can dislodge the clot forming in your wound, renewing the bleeding. So, stop moving!"

"Just keeping things interesting," you mumbled, the words slurring slightly. “Wouldn’t want my last moments here on earth to be so grim…”

Spencer's jaw clenched for a moment, then he sighed, the sound heavy with relief. "You always were a pain," He muttered, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You’re going to be okay, he thought.

The sirens reached a fever pitch, pulling up right beside you. A flurry of activity erupted as paramedics swarmed, the rest of the team trying to make sure you were tended to and that you were going to be okay, their movements a bit panicked but practiced, and efficient. Relief washed over you, a sweet wave that threatened to pull you under.

"Hold on, Y/N," Spencer said, his voice desperate despite the composure of his words. He kept his hand pressed firmly on your wound, his touch a grounding anchor in the chaos. “Help is here. Everyone’s here. Just… stay with me, okay?"

"Going somewhere," you slurred, your eyelids drooping.

"No, you're not," he said fiercely, his voice barely a whisper above the shouts of the paramedics. "You're coming with us."

You coughed a sharp rasp that sent a jolt of pain through your shoulder. "Stats say shoulder wounds aren't usually fatal," you wheezed, trying to distract yourself from the ache.

Spencer's hand stilled for a moment, looking at you like you’ve grown a second head. "What?"

"Yeah," you continued, your voice weak but persistent. "L-look, I get it, you're scared. But statistically, shoulder wounds aren't as serious..." Your voice trailed off as a wave of nausea washed over you.

"Maybe you shouldn't be reciting medical statistics right now," Spencer said sharply, his voice laced with a hint of panic.

“S-shouldn’t that be my line, boy genius?” You continued to joke, as the world dissolved into a scramble of flashing lights and blurry faces.

The last thing you registered was the feel of Spencer's hand tightening around yours, his touch a silent promise that resonated louder than any siren.

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hangup119 · 2 months ago

Text

don't get the deal | h. taesan (TEASER)

being the shoulder to cry on is no easy task - especially not for han taesan, who has lived almost half of his life painfully smitten over someone he is confident would never, ever think of wanting him as more than just a friend. he wonders if he will ever get out of this so-called "friend zone," or maybe he just doesn't get the deal at all.

pairing. han taesan x fem. reader

genres + warnings. friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, one-sided pining, eventual happy ending, slight angst + profanity, taesan is bad at feelings, reader is even worse

playlist. don't get the deal by beabadoobee; but i like you by boy next door; somethin' stupid by frank sinatra; about a girl by nirvana; disasterology by pierce the veil; if i'm james dean, you're audrey hepburn by sleeping with sirens

expected word count. 7k-10k words | teaser word count. 1.3k words

author's note. hey goisss... ive had this in the drafts for so so long but for some reason i started working on it again and im nearing the end so hopefully this will be out very soon !!! dont quote me on that tho live laugh love user hangup119's work ethic <3 ALSO btw this teaser is like a flashback kinda thing but the real story actually takes place in their college days

@onedoornet | reblogs appreciated!

IT WAS HIGH SCHOOL WHEN YOU RUINED TAESAN'S LIFE FOREVER.

To be more specific, it was during your last year of high school when he realized that there was simply no way he was ever going to win you over. Not now, and certainly not ever.

Because here’s the thing: Taesan was not a bad-looking guy, he’s far from it, actually. In fact, he had enough business cards from agency recruiters that could fit a whole shoe box, so his looks clearly were never the problem here. Was it his personality, then? Probably not that, either. He was pretty chill most of the time, and he had never really acted up around anyone unless it truly called for it. He always made sure that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself around you, and there were never really incidents that could have painted him in a bad light in your eyes. He had decent grades, so he wasn’t stupid either, which was one of your major turn-offs. And he was sporty—he participated in the school’s soccer team, and he even had a bunch of fans giggling over him whenever he so much as passed them by while chasing after the ball, so his popularity was pretty decent too.

Was he simply not… your type? But that couldn’t be—you were always making heart eyes at Park Sunghoon who was two grades above, and he was told all the time that he was basically a lookalike of the guy! Not to mention you were always at Jung Sungchan’s games, cheering his name even when the guy was literally being benched. Taesan never got benched. He was the star player of his soccer team. You fawned over Park Wonbin when he performed at the school’s talent show, but Taesan could also sing and play the electric guitar just as well. You squealed over Lee Sohee because he was sooo cute! but Taesan knew how to get real fucking adorable, too! He practically had all of their qualities combined into one, and not once did you ever look back at him.

And that’s when it hit him.

It was prom that night, and he was off at the corner drinking from a cup of water instead of jumping along with the fray and bouncing up and down to some Drake song when his friend, Kim Leehan, approached him.

“I’m not slow-dancing with you, Leehan,” he muttered, taking another sip of his bland water. “Piss off.”

Leehan raised his arms in response, smiling in a way that was just so Leehan-like of him. “Woah, woah, I get it. Someone pissed in your cup, or something? Literally and figuratively,” he laughed, leaning against the wall next to him. “Lighten up for once, ‘san. It’s your first and last prom, you know?”

Taesan only grunted in return.

“Look at you; so emo tonight,” Leehan said, defeated. He followed the other’s gaze towards the dance floor, where everyone is packed together like a can of sardines. “But you’re always so normal around Y/N.”

Taesan paused.

Leehan laughed again. “Hm, maybe not?”

Sometimes, it was both a blessing and a curse to be friends with someone like Kim Leehan.

“Stop talking about things you already know,” Taesan murmured, chucking the water cup into the trash can a few meters away. He placed his hands inside his pockets, looking straight ahead amidst the dizzying lights and the dispersed crowd now that a slow song started playing.

“Why don’t you go ask her for a dance?” Leehan suggested, signaling towards the dance floor.

“She’s literally holding hands with Yang Jungwon right now,” Taesan deadpanned. “Are you kidding me? How’d she get him of all people as her prom date?”

Scoring the smartest and the most popular student in your school has got to be the biggest flex of your high school career. Taesan had almost no complaints except for the fact that Yang Jungwon was your date instead of—him! Any moment now and he’d be losing his mind. Actually, scratch that, he probably already was.

Leehan hummed.

“Do you think,” he began, slowly, darting his line of sight between you who’s giggling at something Yang Jungwon said, before turning back to Taesan, the angstiest kid he’s ever known. “That, maybe, if you had just asked her out to prom with you… then maybe she’d have said yes?”

Finally, the gears inside Taesan’s head started to turn. Leehan smiled at the sight.

Taesan quickly scoffed. “No way,” he denied, crossing his arms. “Why would she go with me when she’s got Yang Jungwon as her date? It’d only happen in my dreams.”

He figured it out anyway. It wasn’t because he wasn’t as handsome as Park Sunghoon, or as sporty as Jung Sungchan, or as musically talented as Park Wonbin (though he’d beg to differ), or as cute as Lee Sohee. Heck, it wasn’t even because he wasn’t as smart or as popular as Yang Jungwon.

Maybe it was never because of those things that made you look at them instead of him.

Maybe you were just never interested in him at all.

And Taesan will have no other choice but to live with that fact forever.

Leehan’s smile dropped, and he peeled himself away from the wall. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped for a second just to say: “You’re so—stubborn.”

Taesan looked at him indignantly. “...What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leehan shrugged, finally walking away. “You tell me, dude.”

And then he was gone, rushing off to join the rest of their friends while Taesan stayed in the back, alone and miserable all because of his newfound epiphany. Though he supposed he was already miserable the moment you entered the venue with Yang Jungwon right beside you.

It was a time of new beginnings for Taesan; a time to finally move on from you.

Though, if only it was that easy.

Two weeks later, when you were working on a final project with him, you unexpectedly dropped the news that you and Jungwon have broken up. Because Jungwon was going to some Ivy League, and you were decidedly… not. You couldn’t handle the thought of being long-distance, so you decided to just cut things off with him since it can’t be helped, you know? And then you proceeded to laugh it off with that huge, idiotic smile of yours before continuing on with the project. Taesan didn’t know what was so funny.

Eventually, he had to share his water with you when you started sobbing hysterically inside of the library, hiccuping and all.

He admittedly felt awful seeing you cry over Yang Jungwon, your high school boyfriend of probably only two months, but most importantly, he felt awful because of the relief that suddenly washed over him.

…And what did that make Taesan?

So, really, maybe it was for the better that you would never look at Taesan the way he wished you would. That no matter how many times he has lent you an ear to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, you never bothered to stop for a moment and think that hey, maybe this guy likes me to some capacity, and maybe I should give him a chance. Because what kind of friend is he to feel relieved at the fact that you had gotten dumped by your boyfriend? That when your heart was broken, he could only rejoice at the fact that he now has a higher chance of getting with you once again even when it is so clear that he never once did?

How could he sit next to you and think such thoughts?

And yet, even when you keep jumping from one person to another, falling for someone, crying over another—Taesan will always be there for you when it all comes crashing down. A friend to cheer you on, to lift you up, to steady you—because that’s all he’ll ever be to you.

Han Taesan was only seventeen years old when you ruined his life.

And for what it is worth, he is still in love with you.

story by hangup119. do not steal.

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beetboxx · 1 month ago

Text

a siren’s call home - a.h.b x reader

pure, sickeningly sweet fluff in which you wake up to andy home from tour, finally.

content disclaimers: not proofread, religious reference, reference to sexual activity but no smut, language? maybe?

author’s note: we are so back squad. it’s only been like two years. i haven’t written in so long so we can call this a test run as i get back into the swing of things. ill update my intro post to better align with what im into! feel free to come and talk to me about prompts, ideas, random thoughts, whateva. i miiiiiiggghhhhtttt write some smut next. hope you enjoy!!

orange light intruded through window shutters like holy arms, caressing the cozy room you laid in with a touch of warmth to counteract the bite of cold at your feet and nose. what was also fighting against that was the thumb stroking the small crevice between your nose and your cheek, not doing much to help but comforting nonetheless. it was the exigence to your wakeup, a bit alarming at first until you understood the source- a large hand with long fingers attached to a proportionally long man smiling like the protruding rays of sun through draped brown, ginger-ish curls, most of it lazily pulled back into a bun at the back of his neck. you registered the vague freckles speckling his cheeks as you blinked lazily, huffing and tensing your grip in your blanket.

“hi.” he said, breathing out a laugh as you felt his calf rub up against yours and his hand smooth against your cheek to your hair to comb his fingers through it as best he could, his nails scratching your scalp ever so slightly.

you sleepily murmured a response, a quick, “hi, andy,” scrunching up your face when his palm returned to your cheek. his other ventured to your waist under the comforter, soft and delicate and squeezing the plains and valleys of your side a bit when he felt like it.

”you’re pretty.”

for such a poetic and profound man, able of expressing emotions so difficult to pin down, he was seemingly struck dumb in this moment over the sight of you. maybe in order to allow his wisdom to return, maybe in order to attempt to become impossibly close to you, his other hand paralleled the other on your waist, pulling you into his torso and wrapping around to meet at the small of your back. you nuzzled into his chest, taking in his familiar scent of a cologne reminiscent of dark forestry and a breeze and placing your own hand on his shirt at his heart to feel it flutter at your fingertips. comfortable, comforted.

“when’d you get back?” you asked, voice coming out as a mellow drawl.

andrew hummed, placed a kiss on the top of your head. “late.”

“you should have woken me up,” you whined, rubbing your eyes.

another kiss, this time to your forehead where your skin meets your hairline. his lips were warm against your chilled skin.

“you say that,” he teased, accent thick with sleep and homecoming, “but you would have crucified me had i actually done that.”

“crucified, no. pinned you to the bed in a similar pose and jumped your bones, maybe.”

you grinned, leaning your head back to allow enough room to kiss his jaw. a stubble met your lips, one that had grown out and been trimmed many times over the course of his touring, all phases of which you unfortunately, miserably, missed.

“hush. you’re dreaming.”

“am not.”

andrew laughed, you squeezed him in your arms. his laugh, although quiet in volume, felt like a dose of hospital-grade medicine to your yearning-induced blues in your system as soon as it entered your ears. his voice and presence was coaxing you awake, a process usually so difficult and taxing, flooding your growing consciousness in a pool of comfort. you missed him. you missed him like a wilted flower misses the sun. you missed him in a way that could only be equated to something of cosmic origin.

“i missed you,” he whispered. thank god.

you returned his sentiment. silence then fell like a thick blanket over you both, thicker than the one bunched up at your shoulder. it sat there for a long while, robbing the both of you of thought except for the feeling of relief. andrew’s thumb rubbed back and forth on your back, a reminder of existence so you didn’t float away. you could have sworn he fell asleep with how quiet he was and how steady and light his breathing was.

you sighed, began squirming your way to get up at least to a sitting position- but you didn’t get far, that ambition quickly being squashed by two lean arms squeezing tightly, barring you from moving away from andrew.

“no.”

a mumble, quick and straight to the point. you huffed out a chuckle, choosing not to argue and enjoy the moment. moments, andrew decided for the both of you. very long, undescriptive in quantity moments. one of his hands moved up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in closer and raking into your hair to rub at your scalp. he was wearing a gray crewneck, you noticed, with unfamiliar blue embroidery of the name of some U.S. state, vintage style. you didn’t recognize it, guessing he must have gotten it on tour at whim.

he was definitely tired- exhausted, even. the lines and circles of color under his eyes had emphasized themselves, but the sight of you gave them a certain light that made you know he wasn’t going to sleep. too many thoughts, too many things to do now that he was home and finding himself complete. he was completely overwhelmed with the feeling of being home that he felt perfectly energized- that, and three cups of coffee he had had just before laying down beside you definitely helped. he took your hand in his as if he was inviting you to a dance, pressing the back of yours against his chest. to further trap you in his web or to just get closer to you, you’ll never know.

“honey, i have to get up eventually,” you remarked, trying to convince yourself more than him.

“no you don’t,” andrew immediately replied without skipping a single beat, tightening his grip on you in case you tried to pull a fast one on him and get out of bed. one of his legs, clad in loose cotton sweatpants, swung over both of yours under the covers, effectively holding you right where he wanted you in his arms.

“andrew, i have to be a functioning member of society,” you joked, wiggling around just a little with no actual attempt to break free from his hold. truthfully, you could never: he had a hold on you and your heart so tight and driven by fate that you were damned for eternity to be consumed by your love for him.

“i can make you breakfast,” you added, craning your neck back to smile at him.

andrew hummed, clicking his tongue. “ooh. very enticing and unfair,” he said. “trying to seduce me with the prospect of food.”

“seduce? i am merely giving you incentive.”

he paused, thinking. his head tilted, as it often does when he is thinking. you took his occupation with thought for an opportunity to make a smart decision and begin your day, freeing yourself from his entrapment and slinking off the bed. he acted quick, however, letting out a noise of surprise and disappointment wrapped in one and throwing himself across the bed to your side. andrew wrapped his arms around your waist as you stood, stopping you from moving too far away from

him. not again. you figured he would be a bit clingy getting back from tour, but this was taking it too another (but very welcomed) level.

“andrew!” you whined without any real weight to it as his chin rested on your hip, grinning happily. your fingers tangled themselves in his wild hair, frizzy from travel and the usual irish moisture. his hair tie was certainly not doing a fantastic job at keeping it all back, strands thick and thin escaping its weak confines. you giggle, “you’re like a puppy sometimes, you know that?”

“and you’re like.. ehm.. a siren.”

you playfully scoffed, “a siren?”

“oh, yes, a siren,” he grins, pulling your waist in until you were sitting back on the bed. “a beautiful but relentless creature with an inclination for luring and trapping defenseless men such as myself.”

“and eating them,” you added.

“whatever,” andrew said, pulling himself up to sit beside you so he could drag you into his lap. you turned yourself and straddled his thighs, arms wrapping around his neck, your intentions for the morning entirely forgotten.

he kissed your lips, softly, like he was testing the waters. you thought your breath stunk for a second with how gentle he was- until you tried to peel away, only for him to grab your face and keep you in his entrancing kiss. he deepened it, mouth opening slightly in rhythm with yours, lips dancing together like they hadn’t in so long.

you stayed that way for a while, letting andrew delicately consume your heart and soul and very essence with his neglected mouth. you could feel his breath mix with yours and span over your cheeks, and you swear it was full of helium with how light and floaty your lungs felt. you pulled away, eventually, taking a little more willpower than you would like to admit as his charged lips pulled yours in like a magnet.

he sighed, happy and content as he stared at you with big eyes, twinkling with every overwhelming emotion he had towards you.

“you have me entirely whipped, woman. like a siren.”

“i know,” you replied, kissing his lips again. “i’m glad you’re home.”

“i know.”

#beetboxx beatboxes #hozier x reader #hozier #hozier fanfiction #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier fluff #hozier x reader fluff #good gods save me #i am just a girl #andrew hozier byrne #andrew hozier-byrne x reader

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thinemoonshine · 4 months ago

Text

༄LECHE OF THE SIRENS.ೃ࿔*

corrupt!enhypen ot7 x siren!reader warning(s): those stated in the first chapter, jay is a two-faced ‘gentleman,’ he sleeps with (y/n), members are sexually frustrated, sunoo is growing more obsessed with (y/n) by the second, riki and jungwon make their appearance, (y/n) feeds to the nobles’ delusions to get what she wants, heeseung grovels type: mini series word count: 8.9k

(y/n)’s created a rift between them. she has sunoo wrapped around her finger and she who controls the puppeteer, controls the puppets—but she needs more. so, what better left to do than to subjugate the real genius behind the genius?

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 2

𝒥ongseong stirs in his bed before he sits up, disgruntled from having his sleep interrupted and grumbles as he walks to his doors. Swinging them open, he's prepared to give the intruder a good earful but finds himself frozen instead upon seeing a timid (y/n).

Clad only in her nightwear—a white satin nightdress that reaches mid-thigh with snowy lace trims, its collar lower than the typical and exposing her cleavage that makes his eyes pop and the fabric is thin…almost sheer that his gaze struggles to remain still.

His blatant ogle makes the corners of her lips curl but they fall instantly as she takes a step forward.

"If you don't mind, would you like to accompany me for a cup of tea? I know it's unconventional seeing how this is past bedtime however, I have trouble sleeping from what transpired earlier on..." She starts quietly, voice in a whisper as if afraid to awaken any other as eyes draw figures onto the floor. Jongseong can see her gulping nervously before she lifts her gaze to him. "D-did I disturb your slumber?"

He recalls his irritation from having awakened from his rest and yet, he shakes his head as a cordial, gentle smile stretches onto his face. "No, of course not. I found myself engrossed in a book and have been awake for a while. Please, come in.”

She doesn’t miss the way he rakes his lecherous gaze up and down her figure as she walks past and as soon as she hears the door shut softly behind her, she knows she’s already won.

He manages to keep his genteel manner throughout their tea time—behaving solicitously, making a few lighthearted jokes to see her smile and giggle, pouring her tea for her—and acting like a true gentleman.

If only his eyes didn’t lower to her bosom whenever she would lean forward, or to her legs whenever she would cross them or even lick his lip when she would ‘accidentally’ spill tea from the corners of her mouth from abrupt sips or rushed tilts.

“You’re very kind, Jongseong. Don’t tell the others but I feel much more comfortable with you than I am with them,” she confesses bashfully and gosh, does the pink blooms on her cheeks fuel his hunger and his legs part wider below the table as he feels blood rush between.

With a soft, endearing chuckle, he envelopes her hand that rests on the table with his which makes her raise her eyes to him with surprise. Those glossy, naive doll-like eyes that he so desperately wants to see brimming with tears of pleasure—or fear. As long as it’s him causing it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he assures and she too, titters at his claim before her focus shifts to his hold. Slowly, she lifts it up, grasping it in hers before she touches the calloused pads of his fingers. He notices. How can he not when her touch is so feathery and warm? “Ah, the sword training and instruments I’ve played over the years left their marks.”

“Do they hurt?” She asks, voice wispy as she tenderly caresses the hardened skin. There is a sudden shift in atmosphere, tension rising and heat prickling at their skin as she looks up at him curiously, intently.

The noble lets out a ragged exhale. “No… Not at all.”

At this, a smile graces her face. “I’m happy to hear that.”

Kiss.

Jongseong’s eyes widen at the sudden intimacy—her lips against the pads of his fingers, one by one. Her actions slow, so deeply tender and pure—thus, his restraint snaps.

THUD!

His chair violently falls backwards at his abrupt rise and (y/n) finds herself pinned against the wall, tongue tangled with his.

Seong grunts into the heated kiss as he presses his clothed arousal against her before a guttural groan sounds when she reciprocates, bucking her hips forward at his advance.

By the time he pulls away, their faces are flushed and he revels in the way she shudders with desire. With lips swollen and red from his relentless presses and chews, he smirks darkly—lust clouding his eyes and rationality.

“Stop,” (y/n) rejects suddenly. Her hand against his chest as she holds him back and her shaky pupils refuse to meet with his. “We sh-shouldn’t be doing this. It’s inadequate.”

Jongseong looks down at her, his breaths hot and heavy as he feels his blood rush at her meekness. Her demureness excites him in ways he can’t comprehend. To see her trembling and panting as she struggles to remain still below his fervid gaze and yet flinches and melts into his every touch—she’s so innocent and delectable.

And to be the one to corrupt such purity—

He shivers with delight, grin widens and adrenaline courses through his veins like molten lava—igniting him from the inside out as his tongue wets his bottom lip.

“Shhh… There’s nothing to worry about,” Jongseong soothes, breath steaming against the shell of her ear and at her flinch, he almost lets out a moan of contentment. “I’m just trying to help you fall asleep.”

“How?” She asks, eyes blinking up at him with a curious twinkle and Seong brushes her hair away from her face. His gaze is affectionate, endearing and even when he kisses her forehead—so soft and loving.

If only he isn’t a corrupted man.

“I’ll show you, hm?” He starts with a charming, seductive lilt and his hand gradually climbs up her thigh with a searing touch. A glint in his sharp, clouded gaze as his lips pepper kisses to the side of her neck and down to her bust.

—

Riki watches the girl who has been the centre of his brothers' attention. It’s astounding honestly, how they’re all suddenly pursuing one girl with such enthusiasm he’s never seen before.

It almost makes them pathetic.

‘They are pathetic,’ Riki scoffs mentally and picks up a pebble off the garden floor before tossing it to the defenseless girl.

She jumps when the stone grazes her arm but quickly turns to its source. Her head tilts with confusion once seeing Riki exiting through the garden's archway to her. “Do you need something?”

“I require an explanation,” the other casually replies. His sharp eyes wander up and down her figure before cocking up a brow. “You. What sorcery have you casted on my brothers for them to act like mindless mutts?”

She puts a hand on her chest, taken aback. “Sorcery? I don’t comprehend.”

He scoffs, cynical. "Of course, you wouldn't. A witch would not simply confess to being one."

"Witch...?" (y/n) repeats, now fully understanding his insinuation. "I'm sorry but, I fail to see why you would assume such a thing.”

Riki says nothing, only continuing to glower at her before turning his face away. As much as he wishes to demand for answers, to treat her just as he treats any other disposable being to get what he wants, he can’t.

The news of Jaeyun and Sunghoon almost being permanently removed from Sunoo’s residence have spread like wildfire so Riki knows better than to touch the host’s most prized possession.

He exhales heavily, irritated before taking a big step towards the girl—instantly looming over with his chest near her face. He looks down vainly before he brusquely grasps her face in his large hand, eliciting a squeak from her. “I will find out what it is that you have up your sleeves, wench. And when that time comes, trust that you will be discarded to the streets, left to rot in your worthless, deplorable self.”

A heavy, abrupt silence engulfs them. The air stills and not a single leaf nor flower is dancing, neither the slightest rustle. The chirping birds have strangely quietened and even the clouds have shifted to cloak the sun—dimming the previously sunny and cheery ambience of the morning.

(y/n)’s brows knit as her previously apprehensive gaze sharpens to a glare of antipathy. The rims of her eyes red as her pupils stare dead into his, unwavering, unafraid as her soft, amicable aura seems to thicken into something completely different.

Hateful and…baneful.

Riki would be lying if he said he isn’t the slightest bit daunted.

So he lets her go.

“You disgust me,” he hisses before leaving the scene with long strides.

(y/n) stares at his furthering back, hands clenched to her sides as her patience thins by the second. It’s taxing to be entertaining these rambunctiously revolting and uncouth men. It’s easy when they’re at sea, her home, where she has the advantage.

But here, on land, her powers are weakened and she needs to play her cards right to ensure none would escape before she can finish them off. As vexing and laborious as it is, the result is always satisfying. To see them slowly meet their demise—crying and begging for mercy. A truly picturesque view.

“Lord Riki!” She calls and he hears her nimble footsteps chase after him before her figure stands in front to halt him. He raises a brow irritatedly. “I heard you and Sir Jungwon are commendable in the arts of dance. If you don’t mind, would you…aid me with my ballroom choreography?”

The noble scowls distastefully. “Do you not have Sunoo hyung for that?”

“He’s been busy as of late—taking care of the household and whatnot,” (y/n) explains briefly and looks up at him with the most sweetest of gaze and loveliest of smiles yet simultaneously pitiable as to gain his favour. “But if you’re unavailable, I can ask the his grace Jungwon.”

Riki’s sharp eyes scrutinize her mien and his furrow deepens at the entirely juxtaposing image he sees. Was the air of hostility she felt around her before a figment of his imagination?

He hates to leave things unsettled. So what else to do then to investigate?

“Alright, I will supervise you,” he agrees and the grin that stretches on her face unexpectedly makes his heart skip a beat. That genuine look of relief and delight is an expression rarely graced unto him. Infamous for being callous and pompous, it’s obvious that he won’t receive much…liking from others. They tend to deviate from him without giving him a chance to even speak but of course, he cares not. After all, he’s much better and grand than everybody else.

“Then, I shall see you in the ballroom!” The girl chirps and with a curtsy, she rushes away—long skirt flowing behind her in soft waves, akin to flower petals gently swaying in the wind.

Riki stares, his gaze transfixed and he swallows thickly as he takes note of his rapidly beating heart.

He can’t deny, she glows.

Meanwhile, in the main lounge are the mindless mutts—as per Riki’s words—who are enjoying their time together with rounds of billiard and glasses of expensive wine.

TACK!

Jaeyun strikes a ball and exhales a heavy breath through the nose after hearing their oldest’s query. He straightens his posture. “I’ve told you time and time again that my invitation was purely because I wished to ease her worries. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Heeseung scoffs, skeptical. “As if you could have innocent intent. I say you were hoping to win her favour and perhaps even entry to her private chamber.”

A scoff emits from the second older and they turn to Jongseong who’s swirling his cold beverage inside his crystal glass, watching it with a dreamy expression and a drunken grin.

“What’s with him? He’s been acting like this since morning,” Sunghoon asks, brows knitting at their brother’s weird behaviour. “It’s like he’s got his head in the clouds.”

Heeseung crosses his arms. “He looks strangely…blissful. What kind of ‘medication’ did you take this time?”

“Hm?” Seong raises a brow before shaking his head. That same, loopy grin still on his face as he sets down his glass onto the round table. “There’s no medication. Is it a crime for a man to simply be happy?”

Now all three are casting puzzled yet judgmental looks to him before they return to their game—which becomes instantly interrupted when he speaks his next words.

“Although I must say, this elation is all thanks to a certain, breathtaking maiden. Oh, such a sweet little vixen, she is,” he chuckles before inhaling the contents of his glass within a breath. “Truly the best I’ve ever had.”

“What??” They all blurt, almost in harmony and Heeseung strides to the intoxicated man before seizing his collar.

“What do you mean by that?” Hee asks with blatant frustration and at the other’s lovesick giggle, he tightens his grip. “Tell me!”

Knock, knock.

The other two momentarily shift their focus to the door but finds themselves mesmerized upon seeing the girl that enters with a tray of biscuits in hand.

She smiles brightly but it drops after seeing the unfolding scene. “Wh-what’s happening here?”

Heeseung and Jongseong turn at the sound of her voice and the former lets go to which the latter instantly flees to embrace the girl from behind.

His arms tight around her waist as he buries his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent and basking in her warmth that makes shivers crawl up and down his spine. Memories from last night replay in his head which instantly builds a tent in his trousers. “Hi, darling~”

His friends watch as the girl’s face flush deeply and widened eyes dart across each and every one of them before she wriggles away from the drunken noble’s hold.

“I-I heard you all were spending time in the lounge and prepared some snacks,” she says quickly with a clear of her throat, completely disregarding Jongseong’s inappropriate conduct.

Jaeyun is the first to step forward and takes the baked goods from her with his own grin. His face is radiant with joy and appreciation. “Thank you. We’ll make sure to enjoy them.”

Sunghoon nods and hand reaches out to grab one—humming with eyes turning rounder and brows raised to show his awe. “I am impressed. Did you make these on your own?”

The girl’s cheeks mantle with shyness as she bobs her head subtly. “I hope you don’t mind. I know that my skills are still lacking compared to others.”

Heeseung suddenly holds her hands in his before raising them up to press his warm, plush lips onto them. A handsome smile stretches and he gazes at her adoringly while thumbs caress her skin. “Anything made by these gentle, loving touch of yours is bound to be nothing short of perfection.”

His friends roll their eyes at his nauseating flirtatiousness and truthfully, (y/n) is repulsed by it too. If it wasn’t for the other presences in the room, she would have hissed at the man who’s so brazenly grasping her hands. He knows that, thus why he chooses to be so openly ‘affectionate.’

She smiles patiently which shifts his grin to a smirk at her defeat but his victory is short-lived due to a blotto Jongseong pulling her away and into his chest.

“Stop flirting with my woman!” He slurs with a drowsy glare at the older. He then, turns the girl around to face him before smashing his lips onto hers—eliciting large gasps and imbuing overflowing displeasure within the other three.

“What are you doing??” Sunghoon roars and roughly yanks the maiden away. His grip is forceful, enough to leave a bruise and judging from that itself, it’s clear to her that he doesn’t care about her being assaulted by Jongseong.

He’s merely a greedy, bitter boy whose shiny new toy was stolen.

(y/n) wishes nothing more than to sink her teeth into his flesh and tear a large enough hole just to see him bleed an excruciatingly slow death.

But she musn’t.

“Sunghoon, I’m fine…” She quietly says into his chest as she’s crushed tightly against it and Hoon looks down at her, brows knitting before he lifts his head back to the older. Wrath flashes across his face.

“I would have you reported to Sunoo if it isn’t for the fact that I’m already walking on eggshells in this residence,” he hisses with pure disdain before letting his gaze fall onto the girl once more. The second time, he notices the swell and small cut on her lip—a sight much too familiar for him who’s spent many passionate nights with women.

“You…you slept with her? Is that why you’ve got your nose to the skies?”

Jongeong snickers, a sneaky, smug sound as he nods with droopy eyes. “And she’s absolutely amazing. Such a wonderful performer, it made me think she’s a sinful little devil-” He pauses to set his intoxicated gaze onto the furiously flushed girl—reaching out but Sunghoon takes a step back with her. “Behind an angel face.”

Hearing his words, to listen and have his suspicions confirmed verbally, Heeseung feels an indescribable…rage bubble within him. It starts from his chest—boiling and steaming and reaching his head, inevitably causing him to burst.

“Hyung!” Jaeyun shouts in alarm when their oldest brother pounces on Jongseong, instantly straddling him onto the tiles before throwing fist after fist onto the younger’s sharp visages.

The drunken Jongseong is too blotto to properly defend himself and ends up bleeding from the nose and mouth—Heeseung’s ruthless blows proving to be not only quick but fatal too.

Sunghoon quickly spins on his heels, shielding (y/n) from witnessing the gruesome scene yet makes no attempt to calm the fight—neither does Jaeyun.

Because despite not taking an active part in turning Seong into a pulp, they both feel indiff—no, delighted and relieved to see him being bruised and battered.

After all, how dare he? To touch (y/n) when they themselves haven’t? How dare he attempt to covet her on his own?

How dare he let himself be greedy, even when all of them are too?

Unfortunately for them, their entertainment is cut short by the entrance of another noble, one whom (y/n) have been awfully keen on meeting.

“What is the meaning of this?” Jungwon asks with a stiffness and volume that suggest composed authority.

He needs not to shout. The power he holds is enough to subjugate the nobles, to mute their voices and bind their movements.

The abrupt silence is deafening and (y/n) listens to the only sound heard—Sunghoon's rapidly beating heartbeat. He's nervous, scared of Yang Jungwon. They all are.

And the knowledge of that makes the corners of her mouth lift and body shiver with thrill. He's here, the master puppeteer she needs.

Sunghoon feels her tremble, misunderstanding it as a sign of fear and his arms encase her further—hoping to comfort her whilst also quelling his own anxiety.

Jungwon arches a brow, a look of displeasure formed as his tongue runs across his right molars. "Why the abrupt quietness? Where did all that vigor go, hyungs?"

Heeseung clears his throat as he reluctantly frees Jongseong's collar from his forceful grip, leaving him sprawled and wounded on the floor. "It is nothing. Just...a small disagreement."

Won runs a scrutinizing gaze up and down his figure before at the others who divert their eyes away from the noble of higher ranking and finally, his stare fixes onto the girl securely held in Hoon's toned, muscular arms. "Why is she here?"

"She just stopped by to deliver us refreshments," Jaeyun chimes and gestures to the tray of biscuits. "She has nothing to do with the argument."

"You do know that if Sunoo hyung were to discover of this, you and Sunghoon hyung would be in a position much precarious than you already are, don't you?" Won asks and the older nods meekly. "Then why do I see neither of you attempting to cease the fight?"

The mentioned two grow stiff at this, both their mind and body as they're unable to muster up a logical and excusable reason.

How can they say that the reason they did nothing is because they were jealous of Jongseong? That they wanted him to be maimed to the point of no return for touching what is theirs? Of course, they each have a twisted and different belief regarding their ownership of (y/n)—each thinking that they are more deserving of (y/n) than the other.

It's laughable.

"She should not be here. Sunoo hyung will only grow more agitated than he already is if he were to find out," Jungwon sighs out exasperatedly and turns to the girl, a hand reaching out to her. "Come with me. I'm sure the maids have gone to inform the host of this...shameful and disappointing occurrence. It's best that you are absent when he comes to check."

(y/n) stares at his palm, wordless and expression ambiguous. To get a man with a character like Jungwon, what is the best approach?

Should she be unconditionally obedient and bend to his every whim? Or should she be rebellious—denying and challenging his overwhelming authority that he so very much holds pride in?

Then again, why not both?

She accepts his hand, sliding hers onto it with the softest of touches and just when Jungwon's victorious grin begins to form and fingers start to curl around hers, she pulls away.

His face falls instantly as he brings his rounded, confused eyes to the girl who's now clutching onto Sunghoon's arm like a fearful feline—much to Sunghoon's pleasure, if he is to be honest.

"How am I meant to trust and follow you? I don't know who you are," (y/n) says with deep skepticism as well as a light furrow, a striking difference to the others who wear miens of shock and fright.

Did she just say she does not recognise Yang Jungwon? The son to the prestigious, mighty noble family only second in line of power aside from royalty? If it was any other person, their head would be flying with a swing of a sword and body burnt at stake for all to see as a fair warning.

Sunghoon quickly grapples her shoulders as he looks down to her with widened, frantic eyes before back at the younger yet more prominent figure in high society. "It seems she has not been thoroughly educated seeing as how she is still ignorant to the knowledge regarding the aristocracy. It seems Sunoo has been too occupied with his household responsibilities to acquire her a tutor."

Jaeyun and Heeseung both nod their heads in agreement while Jongseong remains sprawled and inert on the floor, unconscious from their oldest's aggression.

Jungwon shifts his sharpened gaze from Hoon to the others, seeing the panic and plead for his mercy—a shocking display as their desperation is not for themselves—but for the girl who, unlike the others, remain composed and still as she stares right at him. So bold and reckless. His brows knit but he quickly clears his throat before straightening his posture with a deep breath.

"Of course, she is not to blame," he says with strained politeness. "My name is Yang Jungwon, second son of the renowned Yang Ducal Family. I am also a childhood friend of the host, your saviour, Kim Sunoo. Will this be ample enough of information for you to deem me trustworthy for now?"

All eyes dart to the lone maiden who continues her silence for a good few seconds before finally, slipping away from Sunghoon's reluctant grip to approach Jungwon.

No other words are exchanged with the others as the two stride out the room, arm in arm, with the noble guiding her away.

"Tell me, (y/n)," Jungwon starts without so much as a glance to the addressed. "What prompted for such an argument to transpire?"

His beautiful dark eyes trail towards the girl and he sees her reticence from her nervous blinks and bite onto her bottom lip. A smug grin stretches to reveal his dimple as he now triumphs in his success of unnerving her who was previously so brazen.

"It is merely a drunken fight. Jongseong have had a little too much to drink and Heeseung sought to quell his outbursts. The others were afraid that their intervention would lead to more troubles thus why they remained at the sides," (y/n) answers while deliberately avoiding the main reason for the fight: her. "It is just that."

Undoubtedly, Jungwon is not fooled. He has been friends with those rotten nobles for as long as he can remember to know that Jongseong is not one to have violent drunk habits. Something, or someone, must have caused such a chaos. "Is that so? I take it that there is no reason for you to lie to me but I can't help from wondering if it truly is as simple as you say."

"As you have said, there is no reason for me to be untruthful," (y/n) concurs.

"Agreed. So why do I feel as though you are hiding something from me?" He accuses. The teasing yet, predatory cadence of his tone acting as a warning—an indirect but clear message for her to tell him the full story or there will be consequences.

And yet, she manages to shock him once more with her response. Turning her head to him, her brows knit and stare hardens enough to reveal a sliver of her displeasure. "Why are you so eager to know? What benefit will it bring for you? It has passed and you will not be able to change anything even if you were to discover what caused it."

Jungwon grins upon noticing the falter of facade. The past few days he has seen her, she was always so gentle, sweet—a truly angelic soul but he knows better. To be able to effectively have his brothers wrapped around her dainty fingers—to have them begging for her, to have them pursue and continue to with unwavering interest—she needs to be more than just a naive, kind soul. She needs to be smart. Manipulative. And maybe even...twisted as they are, in a way, if not more.

"I merely am curious. There is no sin in that, is there?" He sings after, almost in a purr as delight fills him at her new character.

Their gazes are fixed, boring into one another and her rosy lips part to speak.

"Curiousity kills the cat."

"But, I am not a cat."

"True, however-" she starts and her scrutinizing gaze wanders his face, tracing his features with silent judgement before her lips pull to a small smile—surprising him. "You look like one. A cat."

His smug, confident thoughts turn silent at this, upturned eyes falling back to their original shape and jaw tightens.

What does she mean by that? Was that...a threat? Was she, in a way, warning him not to pry further or an impending doom will follow? She?

Insignificant she?

Worthless, untitled and nameless she?

How mindless. Brazen. Irritatingly... amusing. So very entertaining, it leaves him wanting to see more.

"I believe this is far enough. Thank you for your company and care, your grace," (y/n) suddenly says and he takes note of the lack of frigidity and impishness that she portrayed before—now returned to carry that air of naivety and sweet innocence as she bows politely. "Until we see each other again."

And with that she departs without a single glance back or hesitation and Jungwon finds himself transfixed until her figure disappears around a corner.

He gasps quietly, unaware of his own behaviour and clears his throat before hasting away to the other direction.

Meanwhile, (y/n) grins to herself as she recalls his diverse expressions in her head. Jungwon's so easily taken aback and rattled for such a renowned aristocrat. That's the thing with powerful people—so accustomed to others giving them their unconditional respect and bending to their every will that they sometimes forget that there are those who will not be subservient as how they expect them to be.

That there are others who can choose to challenge their authority and it riddles the nobles sometimes, unable to properly react and believe such truth.

Truly, the only naive and ignorant here is Yang Jungwon himself.

—

Riki stands outside the ballroom with his hand holding the handle in contemplation.

Is this the right choice? Or is it just a waste of time? It brings him no advantage whatsoever to find out more about her. After all, even if he were to discover that (y/n) is not as pristine as she is and instead, a vile, wicked with Riki believes her to be, none of his brothers will trust him.

With them being so enraptured by the girl, they'll simply think he is telling fibs, giving no weight whatsoever to his words.

Still, Riki finds himself pulling the door open since he is in fact, already at the agreed venue. But he doesn't expect to be so quickly paralyzed—not of fear, no, but more of...mesmerized by her beauty—within one foot in.

There, within the massive, empty ballroom is the dancing maiden who is adorned in soft fabric of silky white and a sheer white scarf that she uses as a prop.

Holding it in her hands, she performs immaculately as she hums an eerie yet, mystical tune that echoes within the four tall walls of the chamber—resounding and hypnotising like a siren's song.

Every single sway, bend and twirl are executed with perfection, with elegance and precision that rivals those that are already masters at choreography. Her hair flows and drapes beautifully alongside the thin fabric that she grasps in her hands—as if able to control their movements and they wave and float so gracefully that Riki's certain she must have used a kind of sorcery.

Her movements are akin to the flow of water. Sometimes slow and calm and yet so sharp and fierce at others however, they all blend so seamlessly. She not only is a virtuoso in the arts of dance, but she herself, is the masterpiece.

Riki's plush lips part as he breathes deep and slow. His sharp eyes widened slightly as she stares at her with pure awe. She glows. She undeniably is otherworldly.

"Riki?" Her soft voice echoes when she speaks and even the sound itself is spellbinding to him. He remains still as she approaches him who's still standing at the door and (y/n) tilts her head with subtle bemusement. "Why have you not entered yet? Come."

Unalike his previous hostility to the girl, he continues to be silent and relenting when she gently holds his hand to bring him further into the room.

She uses no force whatsoever as his feet seem to move on their own.

"Will you guide me?" (y/n) asks and looks up at him whose gaze has never once left her from the very moment he stepped into the ballroom. "Sunoo says that to learn ballroom choreography and etiquette is of most importance. Unfortunately, with him so busy with his responsibilities, I have not been able to sharpen my dance."

Riki says nothing at first and his hand naturally finds its way to her waist, momentarily surprising her before his other hand leads one of hers to rest on his shoulder. "I shall help you."

And that he does.

His change in character takes (y/n) aback. She did not expect him to be so easy to tame when he was so adamant against her before. But it seems to her know that he's merely a young lord desperate for the love and attention he is so deeply deprived of.

And there's nothing more fun to (y/n) than to indulge in his simple little wishes to gain his trust and affections, to make him lean on her and to be the first he searches for in times of need—just to completely vanish. Oh, how delicious his agony will be for her.

"Thank you for teaching me," (y/n) says after they've finished their lesson and Riki, like for the most of their time together in the ballroom, remains silent and only nods. "You do have commendable skills in choreography.”

Riki’s heart skips a beat at her compliment paired with that little cheeky smile that she wears and he has to momentarily move his eyes away, hiding his shyness.

(y/n)’s smile widens at this, finding delight at his crumbling walls but then a knock at the door steals their attention.

A maid bows to a perfect angle, hands on her centre abdomen before she stands back up straight. “Madam (y/n), Lord Sunoo have asked for your presence in his study.”

Riki furrows at this as mild jealousy imbues. It’s unfair how Sunoo is the only one allowed to summon (y/n) whenever and wherever he wants. But the younger quickly pushes the thought away at the realization that he’s beginning yo hold affection for the girl.

“Thank you for telling me. I shall make my way soon,” (y/n) replies and the servant bows again before departing, leaving (y/n) and the noble alone once more. “Thank you once more for being such a patient tutor. I will show you my gratitude some other day soon.“

‘Patient?’ The word echoes in the noble’s mind. Such a rare praise for him to be graced upon.

He focuses back to the girl when she offers a small curtsy before rushing the door with nimble, soundless steps. It still amazes him how she can seem to levitate.

The door swings open in her hold but she stops just as it widens to a gap wide enough—turning around to smile at him and eyes scintillate.

“You have very warm and gentle hands, Lord Riki. It seems I was wrong to believe you were a completely stoic and cold figure,” she comments lastly and throws in a small, soft chuckle before finally slipping through the space.

Riki stands still, dumbfounded and heart races fervently in his chest. He looks down at his shoes as his adam apple bobs in his throat, nervously swallowing at the realization of what’s becoming of him.

What’s blooming within him for (y/n).

And so he wears a mien of displeasure, rejecting the idea as he approaches the doors. ‘Preposterous.’

But the blush that dusts his cheeks tell no lie.

It doesn’t take long for (y/n) to arrive at Sunoo’s study and the moment she entered, she’s instantly wrapped within the warm embrace of his arms.

“I missed you. I missed you so dearly, so much,” he whispers earnestly against her head before pressing a long, affectionate kiss on her temple. “The days without your presence felt so long and torturous. I felt my sanity fleeting.”

(y/n) can’t help the giggle that emits and she reciprocates his touch with one of her own—caressing the back of his head as her fingers play with the hair tickling his nape.

Her voice is pure music to his ears, the most melodic of tunes and he purrs—nuzzling deeper into her hair and pressing her tight against his bod. The warmth from her figure makes him melt and he brings them to the couch whilst still intertwined.

Sitting her on his lap, Sunoo rests his hand on her thigh while the other gently combs through her hair that drapes down her back.

“Is your work finished?” (y/n) asks, looking at him who gazes at her with oozing endearment.

He nods, meeting her eyes and pupils dilate as his heart swells with overflowing adoration for the girl. “Finally. Now, I can spend my days with you without interruption.”

The air in the room feels light and almost infused with a sort of aromatherapy the moment she entered, untangling every knot in his exhausted muscles and fogging his brain to the point of blissful dumbness.

His eyes see nothing but her, ears hear nothing but her and mind thinking of her and only her. He’s consumed by her in every possible manner and he will not have it any other way.

“Why do you look at me like so?” (y/n) asks and lifts her hand to cup his cheek which he leans himself further into.

“Like what?”

The girl begins to stroke his cheek and he shudders at the feeling, a shaky sigh leaving past his rosy lips at the delightful sensation he has craved for so long.

“As if… you would lay down your life for me,” she finishes and he almost snorts at her words—not of ridicule, but of amusement that she only thinks it. At this point, he thought he has made it clear enough for her to know that he will.

That he will lay down his life, his everything, if it meant that it is for her.

“(y/n), I have surrendered to you, body and soul,” Sunoo declares without a single pinch of hesitation and he wraps his fingers around her arm softly before pressing his lips onto the inner wrist.

The sensation is warm and an unfamiliar fuzziness erupts from the girl’s chest and travels to every end of her limbs. Especially so when Sunoo’s other hand cups her chin and their eyes meet. “I’ve grown to love you, (y/n). So deeply and so intently, that I now see no future without you in it. If you were to disappear, I will, with no doubt perish.”

His words ignite something within the siren and her deep, searching eyes spark with an enigmatic quality.

The silence in the room is deafening aside from their soft exhales and inhales. The atmosphere begins to shift from wholesome lightheartedness to a tantalizing provocativeness.

Sunoo’s breaths hitch when (y/n)’s gaze flickers to his lips and he stills—hands resting on his sides now curling into the cushions they sit on and heart beating rapidly in its cage, almost as if it aims to break from its confines.

“(y/n),” he mewls after a while of inertia from the other, the suspense beginning to kill him as his throat dries and body trembles with need. “(y/n)…”

The girl titters warmly at his desperation, finding him absolutely lovely as he quivers ever so slightly under her and knuckles turned white from his fierce clutch on the couch.

She can’t deny him any longer—leaning forward to his lips and he meets her halfway eagerly.

A choked moan escapes him at the contact and his arms tremble as they lift to wrap around her waist. Pretty long lashes flutter as his eyelids close to relish in the moment, in her.

He gasps into the kiss when her tongue darts between his lips to explore his mouth and his brain nearly goes into short circuit, almost shutting down from the amount of pleasure and bliss he’s being filled with.

(y/n) smiles against him—hand trailing from around his neck down to his chest which causes his bod to flex and tighten in response and he whimpers when feeling her fingers trace the waistband of his trousers.

Despite being so out of breath, he refuses to pull away and (y/n) has to lean herself back just so they’d separate—immediately gaining a whine of disappointment from the noble.

“You’re so beautiful…” (y/n) praises, voice wispy and Sunoo groans with contentment at that. His pupils are blown out and they’re especially visible due to the honey tone of his foxy eyes and it fills the siren with satisfaction. “My beautiful, sweet boy…”

Her words only feed to his hunger and he’s back to chasing after her lips—prodding his nose against her cheek as he pants, craving for her taste once more yet fearful to do so without her permission.

“I’m yours, all yours,” he breathes out in feeble yet heavy mewls as his lips latch onto her shoulder, kissing every exposed surface to satiate his fervent hunger for her.

(y/n) hums and she pulls him closer, eliciting an excited moan from the lad who instantly begins to savor everything of her. Burying his nose in the crook of her neck and licking stripes of her skin—he’s addicted to her.

He lowers her onto the couch with slow, gentle motions, letting her head rest on the pillowy armchair as he sandwiches her into the couch. A soft grunt escapes him at the pressure against his hardened core and (y/n) notices instantly—feeling the stiffness as he instinctively bucks his hips forward.

Sunoo bites his lip in panic and face mantles with shame. "I-I'm sorry. I just..."

He quietens at (y/n)'s soothing shushes as her hand gently strokes his back, causing him to quiver more violently than before.

"It's alright, Sunoo. You’re alright," she assures and she lifts her head slightly, letting her lips graze the shell of his ear to which he mewls at. "Use me."

At her permit, his eyes widen briefly but soon after, he finds himself moving—frantic and desperate—and rutting against her like a poor dog.

(y/n) grins at this, whispering sweet nothings into his ear which easily drives him over the edge and eyes roll to the back of his skull as his jaw falls slack—letting out pretty little sounds and chanting her name like a mantra.

So utterly pathetically lovely.

—

That night.

Heeseung sits on the couch in his room. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he chews on it contemplatively, eyes drift left to right between rapid blinks and he lets out deep exhale.

Should he tell Sunoo about Jongseong sleeping with (y/n)? If he does so, then Jongseong will obviously face punishment—which Heeseung hopes to be dire enough so he can never meet with the girl ever again—and that will obviously benefit him in pursuing (y/n). One less rival to worry about.

However, it is also a risk. Sunoo has been noticeably volatile as of late, and (y/n) seems to be a constant catalyst for it. His attention and senses are piqued whenever it concerns her and even just letting her name roll off his tongue might bring unfavourable consequences.

A groan leaves his throat and his head falls against the couch, weighty from the stress.

But he wants to rid off Jongseong. The fact that the latter's already spent a passionate evening with (y/n) when she's still guarded around him shows how greatly disadvantaged he is. And even more so with (y/n) seeming to have a personal level of dislike with him.

Knock, knock.

A frustrated sigh escapes as he drags himself to the door and opens it with a harsh swing.

"You seem distressed. Would it be presumptuous of me to think it involves me?" (y/n) asks with a brow raised and tone mocking.

Heeseung stands stiff with doe eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected visit, especially at such a scandalous hour. "No... I-I was thinking of you."

"Your honesty is endearing," she coos and strides into the room without bothering to ask for his permission. She sits herself onto the edge of his bed and crosses her legs and arms—eyes darting to him a and she furrows. "Would you rather have a servant see me in your chambers at this unholy hour? Close the door."

The owner of the room does as ordered, careful to ensure that it's securely locked before approaching the girl who's so casually waiting for him.

It unnerves him somehow—how he's the one anxious and jittery at being in one same room with the maiden despite it being his own. Not to mention the clear power dynamic between them, her being supposedly more subservient and meek.

The realisation of that irks him now and his fingers curl to form fists at his sides.

"What brings you here?" He asks directly, stoic and stern to feign control.

"To ease your worries," (y/n) replies sweetly and Heeseung's hair rises at it—both aroused and yet fearful of how angelic she can sound despite the wicked slyness that lies within.

He gulps. “Wha…What do you mean?”

“I’ll give you the answer to your questions: don’t.”

The noble furrows with confusion at this before finally understanding what she means, plush lips parting in awe before it tilts to a condescending smirk—brow arching as a scoff escapes. “And why should I heed your words?”

(y/n) stares and shakes her head softly. “It is simple a suggestion. If you wish to go against it then do so. However, I cannot assure you that you would remain untouched.”

Her ambiguous statement makes him tilt his head and she continues. Leaning back with her arms by her sides to prop her figure, she too drops her head slightly backwards to look up at him.

“Do you know why Sunghoon was almost removed from the property?” She starts and Heeseung shakes his head, belatedly realizing that they’ve only truly heard the full story of Jaeyun but not the younger lad. “It is because he offered a proposition to Sunoo—to transfer me to a corrective facility to fix my ‘insanity.’ As solicitous and gracious as it is, why do you think Sunoo was so negative towards it?”

Hee frowns, growing more puzzled at her riddle and what she is leading to, only able to shake his head side to side.

“Simply, it is because he interpreted it as Sunghoon trying to steal me away. It is the same with Jaeyun where he understands his little act of defiance as him coveting me, to attempt to win my affections. So you see, dear Sunoo perceives all of you as his enemies. You are no exception,” (y/n) finishes and Heeseung stumbles backwards at her abrupt rise.

Taking small steps forward which leads to his retreat, the back of his knees eventually touch the cushions of his couch before ultimately stumbling onto it. He gasps when (y/n) climbs atop him—legs straddling his lap as she cages his head between her hands that rest on the seat’s header.

“You’re a smart boy, are you not?” She taunts and despite it meaning to be of insult to him, he finds himself perking—heart racing and breaths hitching in anticipation and want. “Then, I believe you will make the right choice, Heeseung.”

The mention of his name with her tongue makes him eager, wishing to hear it more and more and his hand travels upwards to gently hold her arm. “At least, tell me why. Why are you so against me telling Sunoo? Will it not be more favourable for you to have me removed—seeing as how you don’t seem to very wlecoming of me? Or do you hold so much affection for Jongseong that you fear having him separated?”

Saying it aloud pierces a shard into his chest.

'She does not hold any affection for me. She does not... want me.'

The reminder of that pains him so even when he tries his hardest to reject it. He refuses to succumb, to be defeated and crushed by the weight of this disappointment and grave hurt but with every passing second, it only grows.

He thought his feelings for (y/n) was mere infatuation—short-lived and cheap obsession, something that will dissipate within a few days—but it's clear now that what he feels is much more real and complex than he ever expected.

Heeseung truly likes her. He's besotted, enamoured and it's excruciating to know that his feelings will never be reciprocated.

"What are you saying?" (y/n)'s airy, enchanting voice distracts his from his thoughts and he's made to meet her eyes by her hands that cup his jaw to lift it. Seeing her however, only fuels the flames of anguish in his heart and his cheeks flush as eyes water.

"Am I not correct? Is what I say not true?" He manages to ask through his cracking voice and he purses his lips after to quieten the sobs that threaten to escape.

"Yes...but also no," (y/n) replies and Heeseung frowns, confused and even more so when she lowers slightly to plant a fond, lingering kiss on his forehead. When she pulls away, he's staring up at her with eyes glossed over and lips parted with surprise. "It is true that I hold affection for Jongseong but, it is untrue that I am unwelcoming of you. If anything, I am most inclined towards you."

"You jest," Heeseung denies, brows knitting but the stardust in his eyes belie his actions—secretly hoping she will refute him. “If you mean what you say, then you would not have been so cold to me while you are so sweet and loving to the others.”

His near-sulky response through his pouty lips make her giggle and seeing it ignites the hope Hee holds.

“Silly, aren’t you? Have you not yet understood? The reason why I am so cold to you, and only you is because you are the only one I truly am comfortable with. You are the only one whom I trust enough to reveal my true self—you, Heeseung, are special.”

The sparks in his eyes multiply like stars in the black night sky, twinkling brighter and bigger, after hearing her explanation.

Can it be…can she really be telling the truth?

Before he can ponder on the thought, he’s rendered speechless, brainless by the chaste kiss that (y/n) graces him and he gasps into it.

“Again,” he breathes out after she pulls away but shr presses her finger against his mouth when he attempts to push forward. “Please. I’ve been dreaming for this day for so long. Can I not have just one more?”

“The type of man you are, you will not be satisfied with a kiss,” (y/n) slurs provocatively and Heeseung’s adam apple bobs anxiously and excitedly.

She stands, hands now behind her back as she looks down tenderly at the panting man who’s clearly struggling in his seat—and trousers. “As much as I am fond of you, I only grant rewards to those who deserve it. Do you think you are deserving?”

His lips part and quiver, wanting to answer and yet unsure of what to say.

(y/n) smirks before turning away from the young lord whose anxiety only grows at seeing her departure.

It is no wonder that she can only take one full step before suddenly being halted by a pair of hands gripping the back of her long skirt with vehement determination.

“I deserve it! I do! I shall do as you say and bring the knowledge of your affairs with Jongseong to my grave! I w-will not say a word so please, please,” Heeseung begs for her approbation with chest heaving violently from heavy breaths. “Reward me with your affections. D-did you not say that to you, I…I am special?”

(y/n)’s spine tingles with anticipation and delight at the vulnerability his portrays—turning around to set her eyes on the other who's settled on his knees, dead set on having her even at the cost of his own pride.

She tuts in pretense before hovering her hand above his head to which he lifts himself slightly to touch his crown against it, letting out a shuddered breath at her warmth. "Can I trust you?"

Heeseung nods vigorously with eyes wide and fingers taut around the fabric shielding her legs. His hair bounces and he crawls forward to nuzzle his face against them. "Yes, yes, you can! Just please, I yearn for you so gravely. My mind has been filled with nothing but thoughts of you. I've made it a habit of mine to stroll in the garden every day in hopes that I could meet you, or even catch the slightest glimpse of you and yet, I never could. It's driven me half-mad. "But after hearing that you've shared an evening with Jongseong, my rationality have been tested and the thread of sanity slipped between my fingers much easily than I ever expected. I've never felt this way to anyone ever before and I struggle—I am tortured each day without having your presence, your attention despite knowing that you've bestowed it upon Sunoo so unconditionally. I—You...you've bewitched me, (y/n). And yet, I find it so grand, so beautiful as it is excruciating."

(y/n) only stares at the poor, pitiable vile noble—watching as his glassy eyes pool the longer she remains silent. To him, her quiet is devasting. He interprets it as rejection and despite being a man who can easily obtain what he wants—with or without consent—he finds himself needing her approval. He craves to hear her validation.

And (y/n), as always, knows that. She's aware of how poor little Heeseung is actually a sheep beneath his wolf' clothing. He acts so tough and cold to remain untouchable, to remind those around him that he is a man of power—a snap of his fingers and they'll be sent behind bars or stripped off their clothes.

Unfortunately, the more he plays this daunting, dominating character, the more he forgets his true skin and how truly vulnerable he is. And once that shiny armour of bravado is torn off his figure, he is left bare, naked for all to see.

Much like he is now.

"My poor Heeseung. All this time I have been so aloof with you to conceal my admiration but it seems I have grown overboard. Look at you," she coos as she too joins him on the floor. His eyes never leave hers and his head lowers to now be face-to-face as he sniffles.

With a nose as red as Rudolph and eyes as clear and vulnerable like a prey against predator—he is truly a sight to behold.

"It is only fair that I make it up to you, hm?" She asks wispily and once again, his head bobs violently, eager to be rewarded and she grins—cupping his cheek with one hand and gently pulling his head back by the hair to expose his neck. "Of course, anything my love wants, he shall have."

'My love.'

The endearing term echoes in his head and he whimpers at how pretty it sounds. How pretty she sounds. And along with her hot, pillowy lips pressed against his throat, it doesn't take much time for him to emit a guttural, rumbling groan before he bursts right then and there—writhing and convulsing in her hold as she continues to devour him until the break of dawn.

After all, she is hungry—and vain, iniquitous men just happens to be her favourite delicacy.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 3 (the finale)

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

inspired by ‘milk of the sirens’ by melanie martinez and ‘siren’ by kailee morgue

𝜗𝜚 finally the second's part here, so sorry it took so long!! (┬_┬) i'm sorry to those who i said it would come out last two weeks ago, i hope this chap's entertaining enough to make up for it!! anyways, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog for some motivation!! but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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