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domjaehyun · 3 months ago

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the boy is mine (l.dh) — part two

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 20.3k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. here’s part two!! important to note: part 2 picks up from the same day as part 1 ends on! i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy

NEED TO CATCH UP? here’s a link to the fic masterlist :)

The subway’s more packed than usual as you all head back to your and Yunjin’s apartment, the nine of you getting so separated that you can’t even see anyone from your friend group besides Yunjin, who’s standing in front of you with her bag in your lap.

“Be careful with him.” Yunjin’s voice and its underlying warning cuts through your reverie and catches your attention on the moderately packed subway car.

“With who?” you ask, hoping it’s not who you’re thinking about—but, really, who else could it possibly be about?

She rolls her eyes. “Haechan.” she stresses his name, watching carefully to see your reaction. When you remain neutral in expression, she relaxes slightly, seemingly satisfied. “You two disappeared from the museum group, like, immediately, and when you magically reappear, he’s giving you bedroom eyes and you won’t even meet his gaze.”

”He keeps talking about getting closer to me.” you admit quietly, and she raises her eyebrows.

”Yeah, well, don’t let him get too close. He’s not on the market.”

”It’s not like that—” you start, but stop halfway.

For me. It’s not like that for me.

Which, of course, begs two questions: what is it for you? What does Haechan think it is?

You shift uncomfortably in your seat before sighing loudly and waving her off dismissively.

”Don’t worry,” you assure her, smiling confidently for good measure. “I’ve got my eye on him.”

“Well, he’s definitely got his on you, too, so look out.” she chuckles, and you frown.

“Well, why don’t you talk to him, then?” you ask. “Tell him to stop… exhibiting behaviors and acting in ways.”

She looks at you for a moment, almost like she can’t comprehend what she’s looking at.

“I am gonna tell him to stop looking at you with heart eyes, especially right in front of his girlfriend. I was on the fence about it because he and I aren’t crazy close, though.” she worries aloud, nibbling her bottom lip.

The train comes to a stop, the doors open, and the man beside you stands and exits the train, Yunjin immediately plopping down in the now empty space.

“That might make it better,” you muse. “If you’re not even that close to him and you come up to him all stern and ‘keep your distance,’ then he might listen!”

“Or he might tell me to mind my business.” she points out with a wry smile, and you pause, thinking it over.

“He might not—well— …Well, all we can do is take it one day at a time and see how it pans out.” you say, the anxious feeling in your chest fading by the minute.

“So true,” Yunjin agrees as she leans back to rest her head on the wall behind her.

As if the universe chose this moment to display its excellent timing, the doors open at the next stop and a small group of men get on, all holding instruments.

“Oh, no.” you mumble as the doors close and the men get into position. Within seconds, loud mariachi music fills the subway car and Yunjin jolts awake from her almost-slumber, her eyes wide in alarm.

You and Yunjin look at each other, exchanging wordless glances.

“The next stop is walking distance to the house,” Yunjin observes, and you wrinkle your nose at the thought of walking the rest of the way home.

“We can just switch cars in the opposite direction they go in.” you suggest, and she nods in agreement.

“Good plan.” Yunjin leans back against the wall and puts her headphones in both of her ears, with you following suit moments later.

As you two wait for the next stop, you listen to your music, attempting to drown out the raucous band in the subway car less than fifteen feet from you. As the song ‘Lowkey’ by Teyana Taylor and Erykah Badu starts to play, you find yourself getting lost in the music, immersing yourself in the melody and lyrics.

got a question for you if i let you, would you make a move? (make a move, make a move) what you're doin' to me, feel like you're feelin' me i think i feel you too

You grimace, the lyrics hitting a bit too close to home, but keep listening anyway.

lowkey want you by my side and i know you're down to ride but you don't belong to i know you're just a friend of mine but i’m wanting more inside and i know it feels so good but it also ain't right—

You finally skip the song with a deep set scowl and, as Megan Thee Stallion comes on shuffle, try not to think about the devilishly handsome male that seems to be hellbent on getting your attention, both consciously and subconsciously.

“What are we ordering, by the way?” Yunjin asks as she sprawls out on your couch. “I’m thinking of that little halal truck nearby; they’ve got all sorts of stuff, but I just want lamb and rice.”

“What about that even better halal place like 20 minutes away?” you offer, and various murmurs of agreement sound out.

“Yeah, but I kind of don’t want to wait for them.” Yunjin frowns, and you mirror her expression.

“You have to wait anyway; why not wait a little longer for objectively better food?” you suggest.

She looks up thoughtfully. “I mean, yeah…” She turns slightly to address the group, asking, “what do you guys think?”

“I’m down for halal a little further away,” Haechan chimes in immediately, and you bite back a snicker at his readiness to agree with you.

Gradually, everyone makes their divided choices in food and you and Yunjin place the orders for delivery before trying to settle on something to watch.

“If we watch something scary, literally who is going to hold me?” Chenle complains, and you snicker loudly.

“Mark can hold you,” you offer, and he glowers at you before looking over at Mark, who’s already shaking his head.

“So much for that.” Chenle groans.

“Y’know, does the movie we watch tonight have to be scary?” Seulgi pipes up, and you shake your head.

“I don’t think so! It could be a comedy or something; it doesn’t even have to be Halloween themed.” you answer, and she nods in understanding.

“We could watch Hocus Pocus, though…” Jeno suggests, trailing off but still hopeful.

“Hocus Pocus is so good, actually?” you say in slow realization, and Jeno beams, happy to be heard.

“How about we start with Hocus Pocus and watch, like, Twitches next?” Mark suggests, and you all manage to agree, everyone else settling in on the couch and the floor as Yunjin starts loading up the movie.

“Is there a specific reason why we’re watching Halloween movies in the peak of spring?” Haechan asks curiously.

“Same reason I’m having a Halloween party in the peak of spring,” you explain. “I love dressing up and missed my chance to celebrate with my friends when I was abroad, so I’m doing it now.”

Your phone buzzes, so you check it to see a notification that the halal restaurant has received and is preparing your order.

“Do we wanna start the movie now or when the food actually gets here?” you question, and there’s a pause as everyone stops to think.

“Yeah. we should wait,” Chaewon agrees, and you smile.

“In the meantime, I’m going to keep decorating.” you announce, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

“Need any help?” Jeno asks, and you spot Haechan from the corner of your eye as he turns his head to watch you two intently.

“Mm, no, I should be fine,” you assure him, squeezing his forearm gently (and marveling at how defined and solid his muscles are).

“Okay,” he says, sounding slightly disappointed, but still shoots you a bright smile. “Let me know if you change your mind?”

“Will do,” you promise with a smile before turning on your heel and continuing your route to the kitchen, doing your best to ignore the way you can practically feel Haechan’s gaze on your retreating back.

You make your way to your kitchen drawer, pulling out the decorative banner you finished making last night and heading to your apartment doorway, starting to attach the letters to the wall so any guests that enter will see it instantly.

You’ve already made decent progress in preparing for the party, various cobwebs decoratively strewn around the living room and black silhouettes of bats tastefully hung on the walls. You’re not big on the decorations, but you do want it to feel like it’s a Halloween party, so here you are.

You have a relatively clear vision for how you want your apartment to look, and you don’t necessarily need anyone’s help making your vision come to life. That’s precisely why you freeze when Haechan’s presence appears from beside you as he observes your handiwork.

“What are you doing, Haechan?” Your words are questioning, but your voice is flat and unamused as he picks up a set of cobweb fluff and starts detangling it.

He grins at you, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Getting myself an invite to your Halloween party by helping out.”

Turning your nose up, you sniff in disdain and turn back around to affix the next letters in your “Trick or Treat” sign. “Who says I’m inviting you?”

“We’re friends?” He says it like you’re stupid, and you narrow your eyes even though he can’t see you.

“Your girlfriend is my friend.” you point out all without turning around. “Remember her?”

He scoffs. “Do you?”

You look back at him indignantly, setting down your letters and turning to face him fully. In the limited space between you two, Haechan leans forward with a little challenging glint in his eye. “What kind of dumbass question is that? I brought her up!”

He steps closer, placing his hands on either side of your frame, a devilishly handsome smirk curling his lips. “But you’re still here.”

“This is my home… that I’m decorating for my party… why would I leave?”

“You know damn well what I mean.”

He’s got you there. You roll your eyes in the hope of masking your defeat. “So?” you huff.

“A good friend would have left me over here by now.” He lifts his eyebrows as if to drive his point home.

You’re lost for words, opening and closing your mouth to voice a rebuttal that never comes. His eyes glint with mischief and victory, but you can’t find it in you to be annoyed with him.

“Well,” you sniff, turning your nose up, “a good boyfriend wouldn’t be over here to begin with.”

He chuckles, his head tipping back as his shoulders shake with amusement. Nodding slowly, he leans closer to you as if he isn’t already entirely invading your personal space. “Touché,” he murmurs with a grin, and his plain, bold, unapologetic admission of guilt takes you by surprise as well as intrigues you.

“Well, we’re both bad,” you reply carefully, nibbling at your bottom lip absentmindedly.

(You do not miss the way his gaze drops to your mouth and lingers there with an almost palpable longing. Hopefully, he misses the way you almost do the same.)

i want it but this ain’t the right time

“Yeah,” he mumbles in agreement, and you truly don’t think you’ve ever seen someone want to kiss you as badly as he does. He’s looking at you like it’s all he’s ever thought about—looking at you like one kiss could save his life, like your lips have the answer to a question he’s always wondered, and the slow creeping in of the realization has your body warming with desire.

but damn it, you’re so fine so take me tonight

“What now?” you ask, voice husky with want, and he blinks, gaze flicking up to your eyes and from the way his stare intensifies, you know you’ve been found out.

now hold me a lot on the line, please don’t play with my mind

“We can at least be bad together,” he supplies unhelpfully, a devious little grin curling his lips as he leans closer to you.

ooh, i gotta decline

In the distance, someone laughs loudly—you’re willing to bet it’s Mark—and the realization of your surroundings and just how dangerous this is has you pressing a hand to his chest and pushing him back gently.

He doesn’t move at first, and you watch as the slight pressure of your manicured nails into his chest sends his eyes rolling back into his head. When he refocuses on you, his eyes are heavy-lidded with intensity and you swallow thickly.

“You’re flirting.” you warn him, barely able to conceal your growing amusement.

He grins at the sight of you trying to hide your smile and the tension eases, so you use the opportunity to push more firmly and separate the two of you. You turn back around to put up the last two letters of your sign, only for his sudden presence right by your ear to send you jolting. He whispers his message so quickly and quietly you could have almost missed it, but the words linger in your mind, echoing off the walls until it’s all you can think about.

“You’re letting me.”

As you continue to decorate your apartment, Haechan comes around far more often than you think necessary—either calling himself “assisting” in small ways with lingering touches—

(“Haechan, you’re not slick,” you huff as he brushes up behind you for far too long, allegedly helping you hang a cobweb, “you’re pressing up against me.”

Instead of moving back, his lips find your ear and he murmurs, audibly grinning, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“If you don’t get—” you scoff, turning to swat at him, but he dances away smoothly, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.)

—or making flirtatious remarks—

(“Hey, do you have gum?” Haechan asks seemingly out of the blue, and you set your decorations down before heading to your cupboard and offering him two cubes of gum from your little stash. “Thanks,” he grins as he pops the gum into his mouth and chews.

“Gum’s gonna ruin your appetite,” you warn him. “The food’s almost here.”

“I don’t want it for long,” he assures you, and you raise your eyebrows as if to say, “Is that so?”

“So you plan on wasting my gum?” you ask with playfully narrowed eyes, and he shakes his head, coming closer and closer to you until he’s got you cornered against the counter.

“Never that,” he promises. “Just wanted an idea of what it’d taste like to kiss you.”

You gasp, successfully making contact with his chest when you swipe at him this time, pushing him back so he’s resting against your kitchen island about three feet from you. “Haechan!”

“Would you rather I do this, or should I just come a little closer and find out for myself?” he asks with his eyebrows raised, and you balk, swallowing thickly.

“Stay back and chew.” you quip, and he grins, making a loud, obnoxious show of chewing his gum.

“Tastes good,” he compliments, and you roll your eyes. “Really good.”

“Get out before I launch something at you,” you threaten, but both sets of ears can hear the emptiness behind it.

Haechan has the nerve to giggle mischievously before obliging and exiting the kitchen, leaving you to sigh loudly and attempt to calm the heat rising to your cheeks.)

—or just being an overall flirt.

(“So, what are you gonna be for your Halloween party?” he asks as you bustle around your kitchen tidying up the leftover decoration equipment you’ve left out.

“Haechan, all our friends—and your girlfriend—are in the next room.”

“And?”

“And,” you continue, glowering at him, “you should be in there, too.”

“But you’re in here.” he points out.

“I’m busy.” you explain, and he shrugs.

“Well, then I’m busy, too.” he echoes.

You blink at him. “Doing what?”

“Entertaining you? Keeping you company?” he answers slowly, like you’re dumb, and you can’t help but narrow your eyes.

“I’m not entertained.” you deadpan, and he snorts.

“Then why do you keep looking over here?” He raises an eyebrow challengingly, and you huff.

“You’re distracting me,” you complain, and he frowns, picking up a forkful of food and offering it to you.

“I’m nourishing you,” he insists, offering the food more insistently.

“I have my own food,” you brush him off, and he rolls his eyes.

“Mine is different. And possibly even better.” he sing-songs. “Now try.”

“Haechan—”

“I’m about to spill rice and sauce all over your neat and tidy floor if you don’t put this fork in your mouth in the next three seconds.” he warns, and you growl in mild irritation before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his fork. “Isn’t that good?” he asks eagerly, fully aware of the answer, and you can’t help but nod in agreement, the flavors of the chicken, rice, and white sauce dancing on your tongue as you chew and swallow.

“You have a hard time taking no for an answer.” you point out dryly, staring at him blankly. “Does this crop up in other aspects of your life?”

He bursts out laughing. “I definitely have a hard time taking no, but only if the person saying no clearly means yes.”

You scoff incredulously and cross your arms, leaning against the counter as you regard him.

“And how, pray tell, would you know if they mean yes, all-knowing Reader of Minds?”

He steps closer and slowly places his hands on either side of you, meeting your gaze with a soft intensity that you find more unnerving than the more lust-filled gazes he’s sent your way.

“It’s in their body language. For example: you always say you want me to step back and get out of your space, but you let me get into your space virtually every time.” His voice lowers to a soft murmur, and you suddenly can’t meet his gaze. “It’s the way you still haven’t moved either one of us despite me bringing to your attention how close we are.” he observes. “It’s also,” he says, tilting your head up by the chin so you’re looking at each other, “in the eyes.”

Your mouth feels dry. “The eyes?”

He nods, gently brushing a piece of hair from your face and stroking your cheek gently before lowering his hand. “Like the way you look at my lips after I look at yours.”

Fuck.

“I don’t know what you mean.” you lie, and he chuckles.

“It’s okay, baby. I know exactly what I’m talking about.” he assures you with such a level of confidence that it takes you aback. “Y’know, sometimes, I catch you looking before I’ve even looked.”

“Wh— don’t you have someone else you can entertain, or keep company, or—or nourish?” you complain, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

“You want me to go?” he asks, keen eyes bright and studying your reaction.

“Yes.” you reply immediately, and he, contrary to your expectations, grins.

“I’ll go, I guess. I suppose I could spare those guys a crumb of attention.” he relents, and you nod eagerly.

“Give ‘em the whole loaf of attention.” you say, and he rolls his eyes with a smile.

“I’m going, I’m going. But by the way,” he says before he leans closer, prompting you to lean back suddenly in alarm, “I know you lied.”

He exits the room just a moment after, a second too late to catch the surprise on your face at his catching you in your bluff.

You groan inwardly and finish tidying up your kitchen to head into the living room, all the while wondering if Haechan was sent by the universe to teach you some sort of divine lesson.)

It’s later in the evening and you’re all sitting around the living room when Winter stretches and yawns, sitting up slightly in her seat.

“All that food made me tired,” she laughs and you can feel Haechan’s body tense slightly beside you, the male sitting up a little straighter as he waits—for what, you don’t know, but he seems to find it inevitable. “I think I’m gonna head home in a bit,” she says with a small frown, and it’s actually upsetting the way Haechan deflates. Looking over at Haechan from across the room, she smiles hopefully. “Will you take me home?”

Haechan nods with a small, tight-lipped smile that you’re surprised his own girlfriend can’t see through. Winter stands, saying something about freshening up, and heads down the hallway, Haechan waiting for her retreating figure to disappear before he sighs deeply.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” Haechan mumbles, shooting a loaded glance in your direction before standing up as well and stretching before heading to your apartment’s entryway to get his coat and shoes.

You stand and head over to the kitchen to put away your now empty container of food, only slightly aware of Seulgi following after you.

“I feel kind of bad for Haechan,” you say with a frown, and Seulgi hums in acknowledgement.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” she asks, and if you’re not mistaken, there’s something more to her tone, something that feels like she’s leading you to understand something, but you’re not entirely sure what she’s hinting at, so you just brush it off.

”I mean, he clearly doesn’t wanna leave yet.” you reply, and she hums again, longer than before.

“Did he tell you that?” she questions, and you pause, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“He didn’t have to,” you answer slowly. “I could tell just from looking at him.”

“I see,” she replies with a nod, and you slowly resume your task of tidying up until she asks, “do you do that often?”

“Seulgi, please stop speaking in code.” you half-chuckle, half-sigh. “Do I do what?”

“Look at him.”

You tilt your head, taken aback and more confused than before and, suddenly, a bit defensive. “No more than the average person?”

“You sure about that?” she asks carefully and you set the now cleaned out container down a bit harder than you meant to before you turn to look at her.

“Seulgi. What are you hinting at?” you decide to come right out with it, not a fan of dodging the actual topic.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of… weird… how Haechan keeps paying attention to you and, like, not his girlfriend?” she asks finally, and it takes everything in you not to react visibly.

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” you fib, and she raises her eyebrow skeptically. “You got all this from me saying the guy doesn’t wanna go home?”

“I got all this from him. The way he looks at you, the way he deliberately makes it his mission to sit beside or near you all the time or find any reason to sneak off with you…” she trails off, and you’re silent for a moment before sighing. “I’m just saying to be careful.”

“I just got back, Seulgi—I’m not trying to ruffle any feathers.” you say sincerely, and she nods, seemingly satisfied.

“I’m more worried about him trying to fly the coop.” she chuckles, albeit a bit worriedly, and you nod.

“I get you,” you reply. “I’ll be careful.”

She puts her hands up in surrender. “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

But as she leaves the kitchen, you can’t help but wonder if it’s too late.

“Not to be dramatic,” you start, “but if Mr. Insufferable doesn’t leave soon, things might get violent.”

“Don’t say that!” your favorite library volunteer says. “He’s definitely leaving soon.”

“Oh, and one more thing—” an all too familiar voice emerges seemingly from the shadows, and your lovely little volunteer flinches before looking around anxiously.

“Save yourself,” you reply glumly. “I’ll talk to him, just reshelve these books for me?”

She obliges, pushing the cart towards the bookshelves, and you spin around in your chair, confirming that your annoying-as-all-hell boss is, in fact, approaching before turning back around and resuming your work.

“When will you be checking these books back in?” he asks with thinly veiled impatience as he gestures at the stack of books still left on the counter.

“Given that I’ve been checking books back in for the past fifteen minutes,” you reply just as bluntly, “in a second.”

“Well, make sure they go back right. You’re not in Oxford anymore—I’m not intimately aware of their filing system, but over here we enjoy the good ol’ Dewey Decimal system.”

You sigh heavily. “They use the Dewey Decimal system.” Your response is flat and thoroughly unamused, even as your boss laughs obnoxiously.

“Do they really?” your boss exclaims, surprised. “Well, let’s hope you remember—”

“I’m not going to magically forget the entirety of how to do my job after spending several months abroad doing… my literal job.” you retort brusquely.

Your boss is silent for a moment and you fear you’ve gone too far before he hums thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s fair. Well, I’m off for the night. I expect every task assigned to you to be completed when I return.”

“Night.” you mutter bitterly, and he bids you a curt goodbye before exiting the library. You wait for the door to shut fully before heaving a large sigh and collapsing against your chair. “‘I’m not intimately aware of their filing system—’ Well, how about you become intimately aware of my foot up your ass—” you grumble to yourself.

While you’re slightly less annoyed in your boss’s absence, you’re now… bored. Your favorite volunteer is the only other one on the clock with you right now, and reshelving those books will take her at least an hour, leaving you alone and understimulated.

Almost as if the universe could hear your pleas for entertainment, the door of the library opens and in walks none other than Jeno and Haechan. Jeno locks eyes with you instantly, offering a bright smile and a wave, while Haechan scans the room until his eyes finally land on you behind the desk and he grins, shooting you a surreptitious wink that has you struggling not to roll your eyes.

They finally approach the desk, Jeno leaning his torso against it while Haechan rests his elbow on the counter and rests his chin in his palm, and you can’t help but smile at their bright dispositions.

“Hey, guys! What brings you to the library?” you greet them.

“I just finished taking my lunch and thought I’d stop by to say hi before my next class.” Jeno explains, and you hum in understanding.

“What about you?” you ask Haechan curiously, trying to hide your suspicion, and he smiles wider, a glint in his eyes that confirms your hunch that he’s up to no good.

“I don’t start work at the restaurant for another two hours, so I was walking around outside and I ran into Jeno over here, and we got to talking, and he told me he was coming to see you, so I thought, ‘Hey; can’t pass that opportunity up.’” Haechan replies, his nonchalant tone completely contrasting the intent, almost longing way he’s staring at you; he’s so intense, as a matter of fact, that you have no choice but to break eye contact and look back at Jeno, who seems to be none the wiser of what just happened.

“Great,” you say slowly, a hesitant smile making its way to your lips. “Well, welcome to our lovely library.”

“You gonna give us a tour?” Haechan asks with a playful smile, and you snicker as you shake your head.

“No, because that would involve moving from my very comfortable chair.” you reply, and he pouts.

“Come on, I’ll push you around and you direct me!” he offers, and you snort.

“I think if these students saw their librarian being pushed around in a computer chair by some guy, they’d lose all respect for me, and we can’t have that.” you sigh.

“That’s fair, I guess,” Jeno chimes in. “Well, what are you up to?”

“I was reading some astrology hot takes online,” you confess with a sheepish smile. “Nothing too important.”

“I don’t know much about astrology,” Jeno admits with a bashful laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just know I’m a Taurus, but I don’t know what that means.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a Taurus,” you agree with a nod. “That’s a good thing, by the way—at least, it is to me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jeno asks, and you nod.

“Well, just off the top of my head, Tauruses are often reliable, honest, steadfast, and have a special appreciation for the finer things in life.” you explain. “Basically like the perfect partner, if you ask me.”

As Jeno’s cheeks redden from the compliment, Haechan scowls deeply and sucks his teeth.

“Boring! Where’s the excitement? What about Geminis?” he asks, and you blink slowly at him before sighing loudly and dramatically.

“Geminis are dynamic social butterflies and have a bad reputation for being two-faced and disloyal.” you say, meeting Haechan’s gaze with a challenge in your eyes.

“I’m not two-faced!” he protests, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Are we admitting to being disloyal, king?” you tease, and Jeno chuckles as Haechan huffs. “Jeno’s Taurus ass could never,” you point out, and Haechan bristles at yet another comparison to the male beside him.

“Jeno’s Taurus ass wouldn’t know a good time if it smacked him upside the head.” he mutters bitterly, and Jeno frowns.

“Jeno’s Taurus ass can and frequently does have a wonderful time at parties,” you retort, turning to the male in question. “Isn’t that right, Jeno?”

“Yeah, I love a good party,” he says with a wistful smile.

“Geminis are the life of the party.” Haechan counters smugly, continuing on as if Jeno hadn’t spoken. “We’re fun and spontaneous—”

“Are you spontaneous, or are you just impulsive and reckless?” you ask, feigning curiosity.

Haechan’s eyes flash with something bright and intense. “My hindsight happens to be 20/20.”

“Isn’t everyone’s?” you drawl, bored. “Well, Jeno’s Taurus ass—”

“Oh, brother,” Haechan groans.

“—can look before he leaps and therefore not wind up busting his ass.”

“Yeah, well, Jeno’s Taurus ass has no ass, so—”

“Hey!” Jeno squawks indignantly.

“Now what did that have to do with anything, you brute?” you round on Haechan, who’s grinning with satisfaction.

“Of course he’s not gonna bust his ass—he has no ass to begin with!” Haechan snickers, and Jeno crosses his arms, brows furrowing.

“If I’d known I was just gonna get ass-shamed, I wouldn’t have brought you here.” Jeno gripes at Haechan, and you turn your attention to him with an apologetic smile.

“Jeno, Haechan’s just jealous.” you say, and Haechan snorts loudly.

“Of what? His long back?”

“Haechan, shut up—” you turn to glare at him and he, unseen by Jeno, shoots you a dazzling grin and a wink that, unfortunately for you, seems to be nothing short of debilitating as you suck in a sharp breath and freeze momentarily in place.

You’ve gotta hand it to him; Haechan really is charming.

You’re pulled out of your momentary daze when Haechan clears his throat pointedly, snapping you out of it enough to realize that you’ve been staring directly at Haechan for the past minute or so. His gaze is teasing, playful—sultry, even—as he lifts his eyebrows expectantly.

“You good?” he asks slowly, and you narrow your eyes at him, huffing slightly and looking towards Jeno.

“‘M fine,” you mumble dismissively, and refocus your attention on the slightly sulking male in front of you. “Jeno?”

“Mm?” he hums distractedly, and you catch as Haechan rolls his eyes from the corner of your eye.

“What you may lack in ass, you make up for with your face,” you reassure him, and he chuckles, the sound a bit shy.

(Slightly off to the side, Haechan makes a loud gagging noise. He is ignored.)

“Yeah?” he asks, and you nod confidently.

“For sure.” you agree earnestly. “Does that make you feel any better?”

“Loads,” he assures you, and you smile.

“Haechan’s a brat, just ignore him—”

“Hey!” Haechan complains, but you keep talking over him.

“—that’s what I do.” you explain, and Jeno laughs good-naturedly, seemingly back in good spirits, before his eyes drift to the wall behind you and his brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“Is that clock accurate?” he asks, pointing at the analog clock behind you as worry creeps into his voice, and you turn to check before turning back around with a nod.

“I mean, it’s a minute or two slow, but aren’t most clocks?” you reply, confused by the shift in conversation.

Jeno unlocks his phone for a second, confirming the time, and his eyes widen in alarm before he stands up straight and starts speed-walking backwards to the exit.

“Oh, shit—I totally lost track of time,” he admits, frowning apologetically. “I have to go get ready for my next class.”

“No worries, Jeno,” you assure him with a warm smile that he returns. “Thank you for coming to visit me; it really means a lot.”

“Anytime. Enjoy work! I’ll see you later.” he bids you farewell, gives Haechan a small two-finger salute, and exits the library, quickly rounding the corner out of sight.

There’s a moment of silence during which you get the feeling that you probably shouldn’t look at Haechan, but he seems to be one step ahead of you, already clearing his throat obnoxiously loudly to get your attention. When you slide your gaze over to him, he’s walking around the desk to join you behind it with a winning smile.

Pointing at the empty rolling chair beside you, he asks, “Is this seat taken?”

“Would you listen to me if I said yes?” you ask, and he chuckles to himself before pulling the chair out and plopping down in it unceremoniously.

“Nope.”

“Great,” you huff with amusement before turning your attention back to your computer. However, it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the way Haechan’s gaze practically burns a hole into the side of your face, so you sigh as loudly and dramatically as is socially acceptable in a private school library and look over at him. “What?”

“Why is it that Jeno finally leaves, and you go silent?” he questions, confused.

“‘Finally’ is crazy, actually.” You can’t help but laugh at his bluntness. “That’s your friend!”

“You can’t honestly tell me you’re upset that goober left just now.” he asks, tone bordering on bewildered, and you bark out a laugh at his creative word choice before clapping a hand over your mouth. “See?!”

“He’s not a goober! You’re terrible,” you can’t help but giggle, and he grins widely before he seems to remember something and points at you accusingly.

“You’re the terrible one,” he counters, sniffling dramatically. “You were flirting with him right in front of me!”

“Haechan, that shouldn’t matter to you.” you say with a roll of your eyes. “You have a girlfriend.”

“Well, it does matter to me.” he huffs, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I don’t wanna sit here while you stroke Jeno’s—”

“You’d better finish that sentence with the word ‘ego.’” you warn him, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I was going to.”

“Okay, good.” you reply, blinking at him impassively.

“Great.”

“Wonderful.”

“Excellent.” Haechan retorts, and you roll your eyes.

“Synonyms.”

Haechan barks out a laugh at that, and it draws a laugh out from you as well, the two of you laughing as quietly as you can manage. When he manages to compose himself, he shoots you a suggestive look, complete with a wiggle of his brows, and turns slightly in his chair so he’s completely facing you.

“Now that it’s just you and me,” he starts as he rolls his chair closer to yours, hooking his foot around the base of your chair so you can’t roll away, and tilts his head to the side to take in the sight of you. “I just want to say that you look exceptionally good today.”

“Thank you,” you say politely before attempting to turn your chair towards your computer—all to no avail, as Haechan still has you locked in place. “Can I help you?” Something about the ridiculousness of it all has you holding back laughter, which Haechan seems to take as encouragement.

“You’re really cute when you’re annoyed, you know that, right?” he murmurs, tracing circles on the back of your hand.

“That’s so great to know,” you sigh, dragging out your words for emphasis. “Did you forget I am at my place of work? The very place where I am expected to—and this may come as a shock to you—do work?”

Haechan’s eyes widen comically in horror. “You’re telling me they make a pretty girl like you do work?”

You bite back a giggle. “Precisely.”

“Oh, the humanity!” he wails, falling back in his chair with the back of his hand to his forehead like he’s fainting, and you can’t hold it back any longer, bursting into a fit of laughter as quiet as you can manage.

“Will you keep it down? You’re gonna get me in trouble.” you half-whisper, half-scold through your laughter.

“No, I will not be silenced!” he whispers loudly, and you roll your eyes as your lips tremble to hold back your laugh. “Making pretty girls do work is inhumane. Y’know, I bet there’s a union for that.” he posits, and you snort in amusement.

“Be quiet before I get campus security to kick your butt out.” you warn, looking pointedly at the tall security guard walking by the library’s windows.

“Fine, I’ll lower my voice,” he finally admits defeat, and you sit back in your chair, pleased. “But don’t think I’m done with this.”

“Oh, would you please be done with it, actually?” you ask, batting your lashes coyly for effect. “You’re gonna draw too much attention, and I’m not really supposed to have guests back here.” You frown, bottom lip bordering dangerously on jutting out in a pout, and his gaze visibly softens, a fond smile curling his lips.

“Anything for you,” he relents, raising both hands in surrender, and you snort softly, feeling thoroughly entertained.

“Thanks so much.” you say sincerely, patting his knee and regretting it instantly when his gaze drops to your hand, now tentatively retracting from his leg, and his tongue slowly peeks out to wet his lips. “Haechan, you’re better than this.”

“Am I?” he asks in a murmur, gaze trained on your mouth so unwaveringly that warmth starts to spread throughout your body starting from your center and radiating out. “Are we sure about that?”

“You’d better be,” you warn him, pointing a scolding finger in his direction. “Security will yank you out of here with an old-time cane if you don’t quit being so…”

“So what?” he presses, and you growl under your breath.

“So… unfit for public consumption!” you retort, and he starts to laugh, the surprisingly pleasant sound building from within his chest.

“You’re too cute, seriously.” he chuckles, and you roll your eyes. “I’ll stop. For you.”

“Thanks,” you mutter petulantly, and he waves you off dismissively, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his limbs.

“So—who was that guy you were trying to explode with your mind earlier?” Haechan asks out of the blue, and you turn to him, spluttering defensively.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow, leaning closer.

“Do you often look at people like you want to see them suffer?” he asks skeptically, and you falter.

“That was my supervisor who’s not exactly my supervisor but thinks he’s my supervisor so he breathes down my neck all the time when he’s here.” you sigh, and Haechan winces.

“Making sure you’re doing your job?”

“Making sure he’s intimately aware of all the internal affairs of this hallowed library.” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I sent an email to a student about their library book almost being due and he wanted to know why he wasn’t CC’ed.”

“He sounds like he sucks,” Haechan says sympathetically, and you sigh deeply, already starting to feel better about the situation. “Well, hey, did he leave for the day?”

“He did,” you say with a smile. “I’m free for the next few hours.”

“What are you gonna do with your newfound freedom?” he asks playfully, nudging you with his knee, and you can’t help but smile.

“I don’t know… the world is my oyster now,” you gasp dramatically.

“The possibilities are endless.” Haechan agrees solemnly. “I’m overwhelmed for you, actually.”

You don’t bother to hold back the snicker that escapes you, and Haechan’s eyes light up at the sound, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You have a cute laugh.” he compliments with a fond smile, and you wrinkle your nose.

“Thanks,” you mutter, slightly skeptical. You think carefully about your interactions today and the words you’ve chosen to say to him. “You know—”

His phone starts to ring out on the table, and he snatches it off the table quickly, frowning.

“Sorry,” he says sincerely as he declines the call. “What were you going to say?” However, the person on the phone doesn’t seem to be done, his phone starting to buzz sporadically as they instead start to text him incessantly. “Jesus Christ—”

“Is it Winter?” you ask worriedly, and his brow furrows at the mention of her name, but he doesn’t comment further.

“No, it’s my coworker,” he answers with a small sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Maybe you should check?” you supply helpfully, and he smiles apologetically at you as he picks up his phone to check his messages, giving you a moment to rethink your idea of telling him he’s starting to grow on you.

After a moment of reading, Haechan frowns deeply and sighs, prompting you to tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” you ask curiously.

“Looks like I gotta go.” he says unhappily, and you catch yourself mirroring his expression. His keen eyes catch your look of disappointment before you can wipe it from your face and he smiles teasingly. “Are you gonna miss me?”

You pause, thinking over your words carefully. “I appreciated the company.” you settle for saying, and Haechan rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, clearly unimpressed.

“You appreciated my company.” he corrects you, and you shrug dismissively, looking back down at your files. “You’re gonna miss me.”

“Am I?”

“Yep,” he says, popping his lips on the “p.” “Now say it.”

“No.”

“Say it,” he presses, and something about the shift in his tone intrigues you—it’s not a plaintive, whining request, as is typical of Haechan, but it’s confident, assertive, and… dominant.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you oblige, quietly mumbling, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He grins widely and rolls his chair closer to yours, so close that your knees are touching. “Say it again?”

“Haechan,” you complain, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“I can’t help it,” he defends himself. “You’re just so cute.” His voice drops lower on the last word, his intonation far too suggestive to brush off as a casual remark.

You blink twice, stunned by his forwardness, before you snap out of it and busy yourself with pretending to search for a file on your computer.

“Watch it, Haechan,” you warn finally, and he chuckles, leaning closer with his eyes carefully trained on you.

“I’d rather watch you.”

“Haechan.”

“It’s true.” he persists, shrugging. “You’re quite the looker.”

“Haechan, be quiet.” You desperately need him to shut up before you say something that could get you in trouble.

“I mean, just absolutely gorgeous,” he continues as if you haven’t spoken, and you let out a strangled yelp of alarm, shaking your head vehemently.

“You are so—”

“So what?” he’s on you before you can even properly abandon the sentence, eyes bright with mischief. “I’m so what? Say it.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you remind him weakly, but he continues to stare at you expectantly.

“So what?”

“So dangerous,” you finish lamely, and he grins wider, sitting back in his chair as he radiates satisfaction.

“And you like that,” he says, watching you closely. “Don’t you?”

A beat of silence passes between you two before you sigh heavily. “If I say yes, will you stop tormenting me?”

He wiggles his eyebrows flirtatiously. “Only if you mean it.”

You growl under your breath and pinch the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes tightly before releasing a deep breath and reopening your eyes. “Maybe I like it a little bit.” You bring your index finger and thumb together in a pinching gesture with a minuscule amount of space between them. “This much.”

“Mm, yeah? Only that much?” he teases, and you glower at him.

“Only that much,” you assert, and his eyes scan your frame slowly, his tongue swiping along his lips leisurely as his gaze lingers on your lips, and you suck your teeth, reaching over and pushing his chair away from yours. “You have somewhere to be!”

“Fine, I’ll go,” he finally relents, standing up from his chair, and you sigh in relief. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Mm, maybe,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug, attempting to recover some of your composure, and he fixes you in place with a disapproving scowl. “Haechan, get out before I throw this book at you.”

“I’m going,” he insists, heading for the door. He turns back just as he’s about to exit and says with a mischievous grin, “and you’re going to miss me.”

“Haechan, go!”

“I’ll miss you, too, by the way.” he says sincerely, and you act as if you’re reaching for the book to throw it at him, so he ducks out of the doorframe, his delighted laughter slowly fading as he leaves.

You sit there for a moment, desperately trying to calm the warmth in your cheeks and the smile that threatens to take over your whole face.

He really is dangerous.

Far, far, far later in the evening, you’re bored at home, Yunjin has gone to sleep for the night, and you have a gurgling feeling in your stomach that has your mind wandering to food options.

“What’s still open this late, though?” you mumble, scrolling through food delivery apps before a thought comes to you. Getting up from your couch, you excitedly step into your shoes and grab your wallet, keys, and coat before heading downstairs to the local Mexican food truck on your block.

The night air is expectedly brisk at 2:30am, so you pull your coat tighter around you as you purposefully speed-walk to the end of your block towards the bright lights of the truck currently serving guests. For a mobile shop, it’s surprisingly welcoming, with two tables with chairs set up in front of where you take orders, and the smells of meats and spices waft through the air, making your mouth water in anticipation.

You catch the eye of one of the men in the truck, who smiles and waves before beckoning you closer.

“Hey, how are you? Can I get a chicken quesadilla and an order of birria tacos, please?” you place your order, and the man taking your order nods as the other worker in the truck starts preparing your food.

You help yourself to a seat at one of the tables and pull out your phone, taking a picture of the food truck and posting it to your Instagram story with the caption “thank god they’re still open.”

It takes less than three minutes after your post goes live for your phone to buzz with a notification.

haechanahceah liked your story.

haechanahceah: what’d you get 👀

you: it’s a secret 😌

haechanahceah: gatekeeping is no fun :(

you: idk abt that i’m having a great time right now actually 🤔

you: what are you even doing up sir

haechanahceah: can’t sleep :(

haechanahceah: and “sir”….unless you wanna start something i don’t think you can finish, i wouldn’t call me that

you: has anyone ever told you you’re kind of full of yourself?

haechanahceah: nope :) maybe you wanna be full of me instead?

you: …don’t make me lose my appetite.

haechanahceah: speaking of appetite, i could go for something to eat 🤔 any recommendations?

you: hmmmmmmm i might know of a place

haechanahceah: oh yeah?

you: mhm :) it’s a little mexican food truck :) that i may or may not be sitting at right now :)

haechanahceah: the one by your building? on the corner of the block?

you: maybe 🧌

haechanahceah: say less i’m omw right now

you: i’ll see you soon then i suppose

It doesn’t take Haechan long at all to get to where you are; as a matter of fact, the cook hasn’t even finished your birria tacos by the time Haechan arrives.

“Hey,” Haechan greets you, sitting down beside you at the small table.

“Hi, stranger,” you reply lightheartedly, offering him a friendly smile.

Haechan rests his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm, studying you for a moment.

You let him look for a while without saying anything, only sparing him a glance once your patience runs out, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “Can I help you with something?”

“Did you miss me?” Haechan asks in a teasing lilt, and you roll your eyes, laughing quietly to yourself.

“Maybe a little bit.” you admit, deciding to indulge him for once, and you don’t regret it—his face lights up as he beams at you, and you’re momentarily dazzled into silence, simply blinking at him in a mild daze.

“Good.” he replies, still smiling from ear to ear as he stands up to order. Leaning down so his mouth is by your ear, he murmurs, “I missed you, too,” before he steps forward to place his order.

A full body shudder travels down your spine from his proximity to your ear, and you shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself at his antics.

“What did you get?” you ask curiously when he returns to his seat.

“I got chicken flautas and a beef burrito.” he answers excitedly, and you can’t help but laugh fondly.

“You sound so eager.”

“I’m hungry,” he stresses, and you snort in amusement.

The cook holds out the bag of your food and you stand up to take it and thank him, noting with mild confusion that Haechan follows suit, following after you to the front of the truck.

As you take your bag of food from the cook’s hand, the man who initially took your order presents the portable card reader for you to pay, and Haechan reaches up and places his phone over the screen before you can even process what he’s doing.

“Did—Haechan.” you stammer in confusion as everything gradually starts to come together.

“Yes?” he sing-songs the response with an air of triumph that has you narrowing your eyes.

“Did you just pay for my food?”

“Sure did.” he confirms, nodding proudly.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you say with a small frown, and he rolls his eyes before waving you off dismissively.

“I know. I wanted to.” he replies, and you let out a small sigh of defeat.

“Haechan, literally what am I going to do with you?”

“For now? You can sit and eat with me and keep me company.” he proposes hopefully, and a fond smile makes its way to your lips before you sigh dramatically and gingerly place your bag of food down on the table.

“I suppose I can do that.” you say slowly with a feigned air of reluctance, and there goes that knee-buckling smile of his again, your dangerously charming meal companion gesturing for you to sit down.

“Good. Now, how was your day after I left? Worse, right? Dull and boring and uninspiring in my absence, right?” he nods encouragingly at you and you can’t hold back the amused giggle that slips from your lips.

“Actually, yeah,” you sigh, casting a forlorn look at the ground, much to Haechan’s amusement. “My boss-that’s-not-my-real-boss stopped by again.”

“No way? What’s his deal?” Haechan looks genuinely offended on your behalf, and you can’t help but feel a little vindicated by his reaction.

“Literally no idea, Haechan,” you huff, frowning again at the unpleasant memory. When you look over at Haechan, he’s already looking at you, eyes soft and warm with a hint of amusement. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re just so cute when you pout.” he admits, and you roll your eyes.

“I was not pouting.”

“You most definitely were.” he insists, sitting forward with a gleam in his eyes. “Sitting here with that bottom lip all cute and poked out and tempting me like that, and you think you’re not pouting?”

You fix your face. “Tempting you?”

“To just kiss you already.” he says in a low murmur, the words hanging in the air like a confession between the two of you.

“Don’t say things like that,” you mumble after a brief silence.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he counters with a nonchalant shrug. “Now, what did your boss-that’s-not-really-your-boss want?”

“God, Haechan,” you launch into your complaint eagerly, relieved to have a shift in conversation, “can you believe he ‘forgot his water bottle’ then hovered for ages making sure I was checking the books back in and setting them aside to be reshelved?”

Haechan scoffs. “If he wants it done a certain way or at a certain time, then he should—”

“Do it himself!” you finish the end of Haechan’s sentence with him, feeling more than validated enough from your mini venting session. “Exactly! Ugh, see, you get it.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re just so compatible,” he says with a suggestive, pointed grin, and you stop short, staring blankly at him. “Okay, sorry.”

“Yeah… anyway, how was your day after you left? Was everything alright at work?” you ask, and annoyance flashes across his face as he seems to recall his day.

“Some bigwig food critic came to the restaurant earlier than he was supposed to, and we had to have all hands on deck to make sure everything went smoothly.” he groans as he thinks back, and you rub his back comfortingly, the male leaning into your touch. “It ended well, thankfully, but they were all freaking out when he started asking about wines to pair with his dish and I was nowhere to be found.”

The man preparing the food calls out to Haechan, holding out his order, and Haechan excuses himself briefly, heading over to pay for his meal.

“Well, that’s not your fault!” you say as he returns to your small table. When he sits down again, your knees knock into the other’s awkwardly, but neither of you move away to prevent it, finding the touch a bit comforting. “So you had to start work early?”

“Well, yeah, I had to hurry over to the restaurant so we didn’t get a critique saying we don’t know a merlot from a riesling.” he explains, and you’re silent for a moment, thinking.

“I don’t know a merlot from a riesling,” you confess in a conspiratorial whisper. “I actually don’t know anything about wine.”

“I’ll teach you,” he offers, nudging you with his shoulder. “We can go on a wine tasting date.”

“A what?”

“Did I say ‘date?’ I meant ‘friendly platonic outing that I will definitely not use as an opportunity to hit on you.’” he corrects himself, lips quirking up into a shameless grin, and you roll your eyes.

“I gotta hand it to you, you’re really determined.” you chuckle, shaking your head as you remember this isn’t even the first time he’s suggested a wine tasting date. “But on another note entirely, can we eat now? I’ve been waiting this whole time until your food was ready, but I’m at the point where my stomach is starting to chime in.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” he agrees, opening his bag and fishing out the container of food as you do the same.

“God, it smells so good,” you moan as you bring a slice of your quesadilla to your lips for a bite. It’s nothing short of delicious, the meat and cheese bursting with flavor and warmth, and you have to refrain from making another noise of satisfaction in order not to embarrass yourself.

You’re so engrossed in eating for a couple of minutes that you realize that Haechan hasn’t said anything since taking his first bite, and you look over, concerned, to see that his eyes are shut and a blissful smile is on his lips as he chews his food.

“I take it you like the burrito?” you ask, and he nods eagerly, sitting up slightly and picking up his burrito, bringing it to your lips with a hand cupped under to catch anything that falls. “Oh, I’m okay,” you start to decline, but he shakes his head and wiggles the foil-wrapped food insistently, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Try some,” he presses. “Open up,” he sing-songs, and you sigh deeply before obliging and biting into the burrito, making the mistake of looking into Haechan’s eyes as you do. “Good girl,” he breathes distractedly, and you inhale sharply, pulling back from the burrito immediately and starting to cough from the large chunk of food you mistakenly inhaled. “You good?” he asks, alarmed, as he claps you on the back in an attempt to help.

Finally, after what feels like an agonizingly long amount of time, you manage to swallow the obstruction and take your time desperately catching your breath before you glower up at a wary Haechan with a sore throat and watery eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, confused.

“You almost killed me!” you exclaim, and he splutters in protest.

“Me?! How?!”

“‘Good girl?’ Are you serious?” you huff, realizing your mistake a moment too late as Haechan’s eyes widen in understanding and a devious grin overtakes his features.

“Am I hearing that you liked that?” he teases, and you growl under your breath.

“No,” you say, averting your gaze. “It was just unexpected, that’s all. It caught me off-guard.”

“I think you liked it,” Haechan decides proudly. “And, I think I should say that more often.”

“You’d better not.” you warn him.

He meets your gaze with a mischievous smile and opens his mouth to speak and undoubtedly mess with you once more, only for you to lean forward and stuff one of his flautas in his mouth.

“Chew.” you order, shushing him when he tries again to speak. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” you scold, and he narrows his eyes at you but dutifully chews his mouthful of food. “Good boy,” you coo mockingly, and he stiffens immediately, eyes zeroing in on you.

“The difference between you and me,” he says slowly as he leans closer and closer, “is that I’m not gonna pretend that didn’t turn me on.”

“...You’re kinda sick, you know.” you announce, watching him in awe. “Not to mention shameless! Just sick and shameless.”

“And you like it,” Haechan marvels, feigning shock and wonder for a moment before dropping the act and wiggling his brows at you. “So what does that make you?”

“I don’t know where you heard that I like it,” you counter, fixing him in place with a confused look, “but you should get more reliable sources of information.”

“I’ve got a pretty good one right now.” he says, smugness creeping into his tone, and you can’t help but snort derisively.

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, a Magic 8 ball?”

He doesn’t say anything until you look over at him again and momentarily stun yourself into silence from the intense gaze he’s directing towards you.

“Your eyes don’t lie,” Haechan half-murmurs, half-whispers. “You know that, right?”

And now you’re in quite the unique dilemma where you can’t look away because that would prove him right and you can’t look at him because, well, that… would also prove him right.

“Y’know, on that note, I am so hungry,” you stammer, haphazardly stuffing your face with food in an attempt to save yourself from the discussion at hand.

Haechan chuckles quietly but obliges your silent request for mercy, resuming his eating.

The food is delicious, and you end up offering Haechan a bite of one of your birria tacos as a thank you for letting you try some of his food.

The meal together is pleasant, admittedly, but dangerously intimate overall, and you don’t know how to make peace with the fact that you’re really starting to enjoy having Haechan around. When you’ve both finished your food, Haechan calls your name gently, waiting until you turn to face him to swipe some birria sauce off of your chin with his thumb.

“Oh, thanks,” you start to say, but it cuts off into an alarmed squeak when he licks the very same thumb clean, Haechan grinning triumphantly at you as you gape and splutter. “You really are sick and shameless—I was right.”

“Using a napkin would have been wasteful,” he defends himself, but he’s not even trying to sound convincing. “I’m being sustainable.”

“Wonder how Winter would feel about the way you, uh, saved the planet just now.” you snicker, and he glowers at you.

“It doesn’t matter how she would feel,” Haechan begins, standing up and offering a hand to you to help you to your feet. You take it politely, but he pulls you closer by the very same hand and whispers loudly, “because she’s not here, and she’s not going to find out.”

“What a good, considerate boyfriend,” you drawl in a bored tone. “And on that note, I’m going home.” You turn around to leave but stop when Haechan mirrors your actions, following after you. “And where exactly are you going?”

“At least let me make sure you get home safe.” Haechan insists, and you assess him for a moment, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’ll behave, I promise!”

“...Okay, I guess.” you finally agree, and he beams, falling in step alongside you as you two head to your apartment complex. True to his word, he remains perfectly well-mannered for the entirety of the roughly eight-minute walk to your apartment.

As the elevator opens on your floor and your apartment door comes into sight, you start to come to terms with the fact that Haechan really is pleasant company to keep when he’s not blatantly hitting on you.

(If you were being fully honest with yourself, you would add that he’s actually still pleasant company—entertaining company, even—when he’s flirting shamelessly.)

Before you know it, you two have reached your front door and you have an idea brewing in your mind and, as you look over at Haechan who smiles sweetly at you, you hope silently that what you’re about to do doesn’t backfire horribly.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you say sincerely. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Haechan makes a face, waving you off dismissively before saying, “I did, actually. I’ve got to make sure you get home okay.”

“Right,” you say slowly, trailing off as you search for the right words for what you want to say next. “Hey, Haechan?”

“Hm?” He tilts his head to the side curiously as he waits for you to speak, and you avert your gaze, looking instead at your phone screen.

“If, um, you want to…” you start off, surprised by just how nervous you’ve become, “I would like for you to come to my Halloween party.”

Haechan goes still in your peripheral vision and you don’t look up for what feels like ages. Unable to bear not seeing his reaction for any longer, you look up to see a shy smile slowly growing on his face.

“I would love to come.” Haechan accepts the invitation with a small nod, and you beam at him, nodding as well before looking around awkwardly and clearing your throat.

“Well, great! You know when it is, and you know where I live.” You gesture at your front door, and he snickers before nodding in confirmation.

“What time should I come? Should I bring anything?” he asks curiously.

“Party starts officially at 10:30pm, but you can come as early as 9:30pm. And,” you say, pausing to think for a moment, “I don’t think you need to bring anything but a costume.“

“You got it.” he agrees, eagerness creeping into his tone, and his excitement seems to be contagious as your own lips start to curl upwards into a smile.

“Okay, great! Well, on that note, um… good night.” you bid him farewell, and he smiles fondly.

“Good night.” He heads down the hall to the elevator and you wait to enter your apartment until after he enters the elevator and the door shuts behind him.

You’re about to unlock your door to let yourself in when you hear a loud celebratory whooping noise from the elevator shaft, making you burst into giggles before you enter your apartment and lock the door behind you, leaning your back against the door and sighing loudly.

“I really hope I don’t regret this.” you whisper to yourself before pushing off of the door and heading to your room to get ready for bed.

You’re sitting comfortably on your couch between Yunjin and Seulgi as you discuss what movie to watch when your phone buzzes.

You peek at your phone to check the notification and roll your eyes to yourself, a small smile curling your lips.

haechan [22:37] hi :)

you [22:38] hi?

haechan [22:38] wyd

“I vote for The Incredible Hulk!” you suggest, and Yunjin clutches your arm excitedly, her grip slowly tightening. “Ow.”

“We should definitely watch The Incredible Hulk!”

“Owie—”

“Or Venom…” she gasps eagerly.

“Yeowch—”

“Oh, sorry,” she mumbles, releasing you. You rub your sore arm and glower at her, and she smiles sheepishly. “You know I love Venom.”

“He’s so… strong.” you mutter dreamily. “I change my vote to Venom.”

“Come on, you see a long tongue and stop thinking entirely.” Chaewon protests, and you frown.

“I do not! He’s more than his… incredibly long… thick… tongue.” you mumble, subtly fanning yourself to do away with the heat in your cheeks.

“You should get a room. Not even with Venom, just go in the kitchen and sort yourself out.” Seulgi snorts, and you let out a small hmph, curling up on the couch and returning your attention to your phone.

you [22:41] watching a movie with the girls

haechan [22:41] oh fun

haechan [22:41] where’s my invite :/

you [22:42] must have gotten lost in the mail

haechan [22:42] no worries i’m on my way

“Can we not watch Venom? He’s kind of scary.” Winter asks nervously, and you groan.

“Why are you standing between me and true lust?” you complain, and she giggles.

“Winter, I’ll hold you if he scares you.” Chaewon offers, and you roll your eyes in mild amusement.

“Not Chaewon putting the moves on Winter,” Seulgi remarks in surprise, and Chaewon splutters.

“I am not ‘putting the moves on Winter!’ I’m being a good friend!” she counters defensively.

you [22:45] winter is here

haechan [22:45] on second thought my bed is sooooo cozy

you [22:46] WOW.

you [22:46] that’s sick actually

You snort in amusement, and Yunjin turns to look at you.

“Something to say?”

You blanch. “No, ma’am.”

She narrows her eyes, regarding you suspiciously. “You seem awfully entertained.”

You gesture at your now bickering friends with an amused grin. “Are you not?”

“Hm… fair.” she agrees, and you smile, looking back at your phone.

haechan [22:50] in my defense you’ve never felt my bed

you [22:51] and i never will. god bless 🙏

haechan [22:51] never say never baby

you disliked “never say never baby”

you [22:52] okay justin bieber

haechan [22:52] king

you [22:53] um. sure

you [22:53] :/

“Can we pick already?” you stress, and Winter sighs deeply.

“We can watch Venom, I guess. Chaewon’s holding me.” she relents, and you all cheer as Yunjin selects it to play.

haechan [22:55] not you having beef with the biebs

you [22:55] not you unironically saying “the biebs”

haechan [22:55] you don’t understand his genius

you [22:56] and which part of his genius made him piss in a mop bucket that one time?

haechan [22:58] HE WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING

you [22:59] okay now hush boy the movie’s about to start

haechan [22:59] what are you watching?

you [23:00] venom :3

haechan [23:00] no way you got winter to agree to watching it

haechan [23:01] he scares her!

you [23:02] sure did. and he sure does

you [23:04] chaewon’s gonna hold her

haechan [23:04] and who’s gonna hold you?

haechan [23:04] me right

haechan [23:04] great im omw

“You’re not even paying attention!” Seulgi complains at you, and you sit up in your seat, placing your phone more surreptitiously in your lap.

“I am!” you counter, and she narrows her eyes at you before returning her attention to the screen.

you [23:06] firstly you’re sick. you’re supposed to hold your girlfriend not me

haechan [23:06] you just said someone’s already holding her 🙄

you [23:07] secondly i dont need to be held. me personally i want venom carnally

haechan [23:07] good god woman way to make a man insecure

you [23:08] LMAO? you upset you can’t measure up to the super parasitic entity that is venom?

haechan [23:08] he’s more of a man than i’ll ever be 😞

you [23:09] HE’S NOT EVEN HUMAN?

haechan [23:11] so i shouldn’t be worried about him? 😏 because you already like me? 😏

you [23:12] you shouldnt be worried about him because he is, first and foremost, not real

you [23:12] no one said anything about liking you 😒

haechan [23:14] maybe you should

you [23:17] say something? or like you?

haechan [23:17] both 😁

you [23:19] change the topic before i block you

haechan [23:20] fiiiiine

haechan [23:24] what are you wearing?

you disliked “what are you wearing?”

you [23:26] HAECHAN.

haechan [23:26] TO THE HALLOWEEN PARTY??????

you [23:28] 😒 not cute or funny

haechan [23:30] jeeeeez a guy can’t ask a question?

you [23:30] not like that you can’t!!

you [23:32] also you’ll see at the party. it’s a surprise

haechan [23:33] ugh fine 🙁 i’ll behave

you [23:33] i don’t believe you for a minute but fine

you [23:37] also i’m gonna stop texting soon the movie’s about to get good

haechan [23:38] can’t believe you're in love with venom

you [23:39] in lust**

You lock your phone and stuff it under your thigh, watching with rapt attention as Venom fights off several henchmen, and you’re made distantly aware of your phone buzzing under your leg. With an amused sigh and a roll of your eyes, you pull your phone out from under your leg.

haechan [23:42] get a room 🤮

you [23:43] happily. and i’ll daydream about venom all night long 🥰

haechan [23:44] venom is one lucky bastard

you [23:44] mmm why? you wish i was fantasizing about you instead?

haechan [23:45] YES.

you [23:46] awwww

you [23:49] too bad. gtg my man’s on the screen

You lock your phone for good and scan the living room, your gaze settling on Winter wrapped up in Chaewon’s arms, focused intently on the movie, and you relax slightly.

Haechan is really a piece of work, and if the Halloween party goes anything like your text conversation just did, you might be in a bit of trouble.

The day of your party finally comes around, and when people start filtering in and the music starts playing, the vibe starts to feel just like you planned. All of your friends have made an appearance except for Haechan, who’s apparently in the apartment but nowhere near you.

Not that you care at all. Because you definitely don’t. But you just think it’s kind of funny how he practically begged for an invite to your party and cheered when he got one, only to come to said party and not show his face to the hostess? Rude! Disrespectful, really.

But it doesn’t bother you at all, so you push the thoughts from your mind and focus on having a good time at your party.

“Wow,” you remark as some guy you only vaguely recognize walks by you. “That is one impressive Groot costume.”

“It’s so realistic,” Seulgi says, awestruck. You reach over and fix her crooked bunny ears headband, and she smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Lola.”

“You’re welcome, Bugs,” you reply with a smile.

“Do you think he’d let me touch his wood if I asked nicely?” Chaewon wonders aloud, and you and Seulgi exchange a glance.

“I think if you ask to ‘touch his wood,’ he’s not gonna think you’re talking about the costume.” you explain slowly, and Chaewon balks.

“Oh, ew. No, ew. It was just to find out what material he used!” she gags, and you and Seulgi start to laugh. “Laugh it up! Laugh it up at the clueless lesbian who doesn’t understand double entendres!”

“We are,” Seulgi giggles. “We literally are right now.”

“You two are horrid. No wonder you teamed up for Halloween.” Chaewon mutters bitterly.

You and Seulgi smile, bumping hips. “Sorry we didn’t join in on the Powerpuff Girls costume idea,” you huff, and Chaewon frowns deeply.

“Don’t remind me,” she grouches.

“What I want to know,” Seulgi chimes in, “is how you got Chenle to be Professor Utonium.”

“Well, we asked Mark first because, you know, he’s more agreeable.” Chaewon sighs. “But he was dead set on being Spider-Man, so Chenle got tired of hearing us whine, so he just agreed to shut us up.”

“Well… congratulations. It’s not like your costumes are incomplete, so I don’t know why you were so upset we didn’t join!” you defend yourself and Seulgi.

Chaewon grimaces. “You could have been Mojo Jojo—or the Mayor!” she says with a jabbing point in Seulgi’s direction. “And you! You could have been Ms. Bellum!” she wails at you, putting her face in her hands.

You rub her back comfortingly and hand her a gummy worm from your cup of snacks. She lets out a soft hmph but takes it, chewing it until her expression softens into a small smile.

“Speaking of the Powerpuff Girls, where is Miss Buttercup?” you ask, looking around for Yunjin.

“I think she said something about the bathroom.” Seulgi answers, and you nod in acknowledgement.

“I’d ask where Winter went, but she’s over there talking to Jeno.” you say, pointing at the two of them on the other side of the room.

Chaewon squints into the distance and frowns. “What is Jeno supposed to be?”

“Hmm,” you hum thoughtfully, taking in the elements of his costume. “I think he’s that guy from Popeye? Like, the really buff guy? What’s his name, though?”

“Oh, Bluto?” Seulgi rejoins the conversation, and you nod excitedly.

“That’s him! Also, welcome back, girl,” you snort in amusement.

“Sorry,” she replies sheepishly. “Some girl is here as a fairy and her wings are glittery, and I couldn’t look away. I blame this new strain I tried before I came here; it makes me space out like crazy.”

“Poor thing,” you hum sympathetically. “You’re just a girl.”

“I’m literally just a girl!” she exclaims in agreement.

“You know what I think is odd?” you say curiously. “You can almost never find Winter and Haechan in the same spot unless we’re all hanging out together.”

“Yeah, because Haechan’s always where you are,” Seulgi mutters, and you shoot her a dirty look. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes, actually. He’s nowhere to be found right now, so you’re wrong.”

“Probably looking for you,” Seulgi sing-songs, and you roll your eyes.

“Is not!” you huff.

“He probably is, girl,” Chaewon says with a sympathetic smile and a pat to your shoulder. You shrug her off with a hmph and stick a peach ring in your mouth.

“Can we change the topic?” you plead. “Let’s talk about… how buff Jeno looks in his costume.” you suggest with a smile, and Seulgi and Chaewon stare at you expressionlessly. “What?”

“I’m a lesbian,” Chaewon says carefully, like you’ve forgotten. “I literally do not care.”

“I’m into guys on rare occasions, but I’m not into Jeno,” Seulgi replies. “So I also do not care.”

“Jeez, tough crowd,” you grouch, snatching your drink off of the table behind you. “I think you both could use a hit.”

“I just hit my pen like twenty minutes ago,” Seulgi says, confused, and you blink at her.

“No, I meant… you deserve a whack. Like, I should get to hit you.” you say slowly, and she sucks her teeth before throwing a piece of popcorn from her cup at you as you giggle mischievously.

“On that note, I’m leaving!” Chaewon gripes. “I’m gonna talk to the glittery fairy wings girl Seulgi was staring at.”

“Wh—was my staring not a sufficient claim of dibs?” she splutters, and you and Chaewon look at each other.

“No?” you say in unison.

“How about you both hit on her? Either she picks one of you or she could pick both and y’all can have a threesome or something.” you suggest, and they both pause to consider it.

“Sounds like a plan,” Chaewon agrees, and Seulgi nods in agreement with a smile.

As they head off in the direction of the pretty glittery fairy girl, you smile to yourself. “Good luck!” you call after them. Seulgi shoots you a thumbs up and your smile widens before you decide to hunt down Yunjin.

It doesn’t take you long to locate her, her green Buttercup costume standing out in the throng of people. Unfortunately, when you find her, you still have one main thing on your mind.

“Hey!” she greets you brightly, and you offer a smile that, based on the narrowing of her eyes, must not be very convincing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really, just stressed about the party.” you fib, and she frowns sympathetically.

“Look around! People are having a great time.” she assures you, and a cursory glance reveals that virtually everyone is all smiles and laughter.

Given that you weren’t even remotely concerned about the state of your party, you feign immense relief, making Yunjin smile.

“You’re right,” you say with a content smile, and she beams wider, wrapping you in a hug. As she releases you, you hope and pray to make the delivery of your next line as convincingly casual as possible. “By the way—have you seen Haechan anywhere?”

She screws her face up thoughtfully. “I did! I let him in the apartment,” she recalls proudly, and you smile encouragingly.

“That’s great—do you happen to know where he might be?” you ask as nonchalantly as you can, and Yunjin shakes her head.

“No, I don’t. That was, like, an hour ago? An hour and a half?” she wonders aloud, and you nod, patting her hand gently.

“Thanks, girl.”

“Why? You looking for him?” she asks curiously, and you hope she misses the way you hesitate.

“Not really,” you lie. “I just figured since I finally invited him, he’d… y’know… find me to thank me.”

“Oh, true.” she agrees. “Well, he’s definitely around. You can’t really miss him.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“He’s dressed like… I don’t know… Godzilla?” Yunjin wonders, and you snicker.

“Copy Godzilla.” you laugh, squeezing her hand gently. “He’s so weird—”

“Hey!” Mark joins your conversation with a bright smile.

“Hey, Spider-Man.” you greet. “Nice costume!”

“Thanks, dude.” he says with a bashful smile. “I fucked up the mask though; that’s why I’m not wearing it.”

“What do you mean?” you ask in confusion, and Mark shamefully pulls out his mask and puts it on to reveal— “Oh—”

“Why are the holes like that?” Yunjin giggles, and Mark’s frown is visible even through the misplaced mouth hole.

“Well, for starters, I don’t think Spider-Man has a mouth hole, Mark. Want me to fix it?” you offer, and he yanks the mask off his head with an eager nod.

“Would you?” he pleads, and you nod with your hand out to take the mask.

“I’ll sew the mouth hole closed and… try to fix the eye holes.” you explain.

Mark beams at you. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t worry about it.” you wave him off, and Yunjin squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“I’m gonna go on the balcony and take a hit,” she murmurs. “You wanna come?”

“You know I don’t,” you laugh, and she shrugs.

“I always invite you so you don’t think you’re not welcome,” she explains, and you smile fondly. “I’ll be back soon. Mark, you want some?”

“Hell, yeah, dude.” Mark agrees excitedly, following after Yunjin before stopping in his tracks and doubling back to say one final thing to you. “Hey, have you seen Haechan yet?”

“No,” you reply a bit more bitterly than you intended. “Why?”

“He’s been looking for you since you got here.” Mark explains, confused, and, to your embarrassment, you feel your heart speed up ever so slightly.

“Really?” you hum nonchalantly. “Well, I’ll probably run into him sooner or later.”

“True, true. Okay, let me go catch Yunjin. Thanks again for fixing my mask!” he says in a rush, and you laugh, waving him off.

“Just go, Mark, it’s okay.” you laugh, and he turns on his heel before nimbly navigating through the crowd of people to get to Yunjin’s retreating figure.

You head to your room to fix Mark’s mask with your sewing kit and try your best to push all thoughts of Haechan from your mind.

“I mean, it’s just weird that he wanted to come to this party so bad, but can't even thank the hostess for the invite?” you huff to a sympathetic Chaewon and Seulgi. They share a look and you falter, looking between the two of them with growing concern. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Seulgi lies, and your concern morphs to panic.

“What? Tell me!”

“It’s not important, actually. It was a… sapphic moment.” Chaewon chimes in, and you narrow your eyes skeptically.

“Sure, it was.” you huff, leaning back against the wall. “Speaking of sapphic—”

“I’m scared.” Seulgi says immediately, already looking suspicious.

“Did you guys ever get to talk to the pretty fairy girl?” you ask, and they share another look. “That was a sapphic moment. That first look was a ‘we’re keeping secrets from you’ moment.”

“She’s super sweet,” Chaewon answers, completely and conveniently ignoring the latter half of your sentence. “She’s got really nice boobs, too.” she sighs dreamily.

“You’re no better than a man,” you sigh in disappointment, and she gasps.

“I have an appreciation for nice breasts that a man would never be able to fully understand.” she defends herself, and you raise your hands in surrender.

“Sure, Chae.”

“Listen, about Haechan—why do you care so much?” Seulgi asks curiously, and you splutter indignantly.

“I don’t care, it’s just—it’s just rude!” you huff.

“Would it be less rude if we told you Haechan was just over here before you came and he was very much looking for you?” Seulgi answers, and you freeze.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Which way did he go?” you ask, turning to look. When you look back at your friends, you catch the tail end of yet another look shared between the two of them before they look at you with a knowing expression. “First of all, mind your business.”

“Your complaining about it to us made it our business.” Chaewon points out. “Now go find that weird little alligator-crocodile man while we continue attempting to romance the pretty fairy girl with a heavenly rack.”

“I’m sorry… what?” you ask slowly.

Chaewon blinks at you. “We’re trying to romance the pretty fairy girl with massive mommy milkers?”

“Okay, well, that’s not what I was asking about. And it got worse somehow. Did you just refer to Godzilla a ‘weird little alligator-crocodile?’” you ask, baffled, and Chaewon has the nerve to look at you like you’re stupid.

“He came as that alligator or crocodile from Princess and the Frog,” Chaewon explains slowly. “The one that plays the trumpet? Louis?”

“You’re kidding. Yunjin said he was Godzilla.” you snort, and can’t help but notice that Seulgi has gone awfully quiet. “You good, Seulgi?”

“I thought he was a Komodo dragon,” she mutters shamefully, and you and Chaewon share a look.

“Now why would he—?”

“I didn’t think to question it.” she complains. “It’s not like I can tell all reptiles apart, you know.”

“I would think the main ones could be stored away for future reference, though.” you supply helpfully, and Seulgi glowers at you. “Listen—if you guys do end up romancing that girl, you can hook up in my room, just please stay on top of the covers so I have less to wash.”

“You got it, boss.” Chaewon agrees eagerly, taking Seulgi’s hand and pulling her away without another word.

As you turn to continue your party rounds, you bump directly into Jeno’s solid chest, his hands immediately steadying you as you practically bounce off of him.

“Shit, sorry!” you gasp, starting to fuss over him slightly. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Jeno assures you with a warm smile. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, too,” you assure him back, and he relaxes slightly. “I like your costume,” you say, sounding surprisingly shy.

“I like yours, too,” Jeno replies with a lingering glance at your body that has your insides tingling with excitement. “You look stunning,” he adds with an appreciative grin.

“I like your muscles,” you admit plainly, reaching out to touch before pulling back and looking for confirmation. “Sorry, can I—?”

“Please—” he blurts out, offering you his arm eagerly. You take it with a giggle and let out a low whistle as you feel the firm muscles moving under his skin. “I spent every day this week in the gym for this.”

“It paid off,” you confirm, nodding with an impressed grin. “That’s actually amazing, Jeno. I hope you were taking care of yourself and not just working out like a madman.”

He grins sheepishly. “I ate lots of meat? And carbs? I was trying to bulk up and define, not lose weight.”

“Oh. Good.” you remark, pleasantly surprised. “Well, add vegetables and fruits in there, too… or I’ll get you.”

Jeno snorts loudly before bursting into laughter. “You’ll get me?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why you’re laughing, actually.” you sniffle, turning your nose up. “I can be a formidable opponent.”

“I bet.” Jeno agrees with a nod, and your lips quirk up into a teasing smile.

“You know, we should fight.” you muse, and his eyes bulge. “Like a sparring match!”

Jeno’s face passes through several emotions rapidly—shock, understanding, confusion, understanding (again), excitement, realization, then finally a tampered down excitement. “You want to wrestle me?”

“Yeah,” you hum with a little smile. “Why, you don’t wanna?”

“Oh, I wanna,” Jeno confirms immediately. “I really, really… really wanna.” he mutters as his gaze drops to your outfit again.

“You wanna pin me down, Jeno?” you gasp, surprised, and he looks scandalized for a moment before you finish, “I’m kidding, Jeno, relax!”

“God, you scared me.” he exhales loudly, and you laugh, pulling him in for an apologetic hug. “I mean, like, I would love to pin you down.” he confesses, and you freeze, staring at him in pleasant surprise.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He nods, not releasing you when you pull back from the hug. At this angle, your lower halves are pressed together and you’re trying your best not to be intimately aware of the way you can feel heat radiating off of him everywhere you two are touching.

“What if I don’t give up easily?”

“I don’t have a problem with a little struggling.”

“Who says it’d be little? I’m stronger than I look, you know,” you say with a small hmph.

Jeno shamelessly flexes one bicep. “So am I.”

You’re not gonna lie… that did a little something to you just now. “Well, let’s figure something out so we can see once and for all.” you suggest with a coy bat of your lashes, and he grins wolfishly.

“You’re on.”

“Sorry!” Winter chirps, appearing out of literally nowhere with two drinks in her hands. “Sorry, I can tell I’m interrupting, but—have either of you seen Haechan?”

You and Jeno look at each other in confusion before slowly detangling yourselves. “I haven’t seen him literally all night.” you remark, trying to hide the residual bitterness from your voice.

“I saw him, like, twenty minutes ago, but he was with you.” Jeno answers, and Winter frowns before perking up hopefully.

“Can you guys text him? My phone is in my back pocket, and I don’t have any free hands.” she pouts slightly, and you nod, pulling your phone from your pocket to help without thinking.

you [23:17] wya

To your surprise, his response is instant and it takes everything in you not to visibly react to the appearance of the new message bubbles, leaving you to subtly angle your phone towards yourself.

haechan [23:17] by the bathroom

haechan [23:19] where are YOU? i’ve been looking for you all night

“Nothing yet,” you lie. “I’ll bring him to you if I find him, okay?”

“Okay,” Winter sighs before leaning against the wall in defeat.

As subtly as possible, you text him back.

you [23:22] heading to kitchen

haechan [23:23] wait for me there

“I hope you find him! I’m gonna check on Yunjin and Mark; they haven’t gotten off of the balcony in a while.” you lie, and they nod, bidding you goodbye.

When you’re sure you’re out of sight, you make a beeline for the kitchen, trying your best to ignore the building feeling of anticipation the closer you get.

You’ve finally managed to escape to the kitchen to meet Haechan (or for some snacks, depending on who’s asking) and you’re admittedly eager to get away from the party going on in the rest of your apartment for a moment of peace and quiet. You’re fixing yourself a small plate of snacks complete with Cheetos puffs and Lays chips when you’re subconsciously made aware of a new presence behind you.

“Hi, Miss Lola Bunny.” A familiar voice sounds out from behind you, and you freeze in place before slowly turning to face a grinning Haechan as he scans your (admittedly scantily clad) frame with eyes that linger longingly on your every dip and curve.

“Hi, Mister Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.” you reply casually, popping a Cheetos puff into your mouth and chewing. “You know, the girls thought you were Godzilla, Louis—the alligator from Princess and the Frog—and a Komodo dragon, respectively.”

“That’s kind of sad,” he remarks with a chuckle. “They should reopen the schools.”

“It’s too late for them, I fear,” you reply solemnly, and Haechan snorts loudly in amusement.

“I’ll pray for them.” he says just as solemnly, and you can’t help but giggle. At the sound, Haechan draws closer to you with his eyes low. “You look good as hell,” he remarks casually, and you roll your eyes before appraising him carefully.

“You look… green.” you decide on saying, and he narrows his eyes.

“That’s all you’re gonna give me?” he says with a pout, and you shrug nonchalantly.

“You’re wearing a turtle costume… with artificial padding… be lucky that’s all I said.”

“Well, guess what, sunshine?” he asks. “I bet you’d like what’s underneath this costume much better.”

“You’re talking like a crazy person.” you dismiss him. “Maybe you’re developing heat stroke or something; aren’t you hot in all that?”

“Why? Want me to take it off?” he teases, and you groan in frustration as he laughs. “I’m kidding. Kinda.”

“Whatever,” you sigh. “Which one are you, anyway?” you ask, desperate to change the subject, and he grins widely, wiggling his eyebrows and gesturing to his costume.

“Guess.”

“Hm… Michelangelo?” you try, and his eyes widen in shock before he nods excitedly. “Hm. Fitting. Funny guy, never really takes anything seriously.”

“You know, you’re the first person to guess correctly.” he tells you, smoothly ignoring the small jab you sent his way, and you make a small noise of surprise and confusion.

“Aren’t the eye masks color coded?” you point out, gesturing to his orange eye mask, and he nods even more eagerly than before.

“Yes, they are!” he exclaims before sighing and regarding you with a dreamy look in his eyes. “God, where have you been all my life?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” you remark sarcastically. “Recently I’ve been hanging out with your girlfriend,” you say slowly, stressing the syllables of the last word. “Remember her? In the next room, all dolled up in her cute little Bubbles costume? Looking for you, as a matter of fact.”

“Yes, I recall.” he replies simply, and you scoff, shaking your head in disapproval.

“I told her I’d bring you to her if I found you, you know,” you sigh, and he shakes his head vehemently.

“Don’t do that.” he half-pleads, half-huffs. “Stay here with me for a bit.”

“Give me one good reason not to.”

“I’ve been looking for you literally all night,” he says, slightly exasperated, “and I finally find you, and you don’t even want to talk to me?”

You shift your weight to your other foot. “For starters, it’s not like you found me. I texted you, which you could have done if you were looking for me that hard.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says with a frown that actually kind of hurts your heart a little. It’s sincere, and earnest, and it’s hurt all at once.

You soften slightly. “I thought you weren’t gonna say anything to me tonight, actually.” you admit softly.

“I was dead set on finding you as soon as I got up to come here,” he promises, and you’re surprised to find that you believe him. “I had to reasonably find a way to ditch Winter so I could see you.” he says gently, his hands moving to rest on your hips.

You feel beyond conflicted right now; there’s victory and triumph and a sick satisfaction that you found him and gained the knowledge that he was looking for you, then there’s guilt and shame about the fact that not only is his girlfriend looking for him, but also the fact that you’re supposed to be helping.

Haechan must sense the happier end of your conflict, because his eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Did you want to see me, too?” At your following hesitation, his eyes brighten and he smiles at you. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” you huff, looking away, but he continues, moving his body so he’s back in your line of sight.

“You missed me, huh? Were you walking around, hoping you’d spot me somewhere? Were you asking about me?” he teases lightly, his lips quirked into a fond but playful smile.

“Oh, my God, can we stay on topic?” you complain, and he shrugs before gesturing for you to speak. “Why are you hiding from Winter?”

“I don’t particularly want or need to see her right now.” he huffs, crossing his arms, and you want to laugh at the way his costume looks all petulant and huffy, but you refrain.

“You’re a bad boyfriend, Haechan.” you scold, and he shrugs dismissively before jerking his chin in your direction.

“Well, you’re a bad friend!” he counters. “Seducing me with those eyes of yours.”

You snort derisively and place your hand on your hip, eying him disapprovingly. “And what exactly am I doing with my eyes, Haechan? Quickly.”

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes!”

“That’s literally just my natural expression!”

“Fine,” he says, standing up straighter. “What would Winter think about your natural expression, hm?” At your stubborn silence, he nods resolutely and continues, “I think we should go ask her.”

“No!” you stop him before he can walk off, grabbing his arm and tugging him back to you. “Let’s not.”

“See?” he answers smugly, making you roll your eyes and avert your gaze with a faint air of shame. He steps closer, his hands slowly moving to rest on the counter on either side of you, and lowers his voice to murmur, “You don’t want her to know because you have just as much skin in the game as I do.” When you continue to avoid eye contact, he sucks his teeth under his breath and takes your chin in his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up to face him. He clears his throat expectantly when you keep your eyes stubbornly fixed on a spot behind him, and you find yourself giving in, reluctantly looking up to meet his unwavering gaze. “You want this just as bad as I do.”

You don’t even have a solid rebuttal, your brows furrowing as you think of something to say that can clear your name. “Do not,” you mutter bitterly, and he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Fine,” he agrees, “I’ll give you the fact that maybe I want it more. But you?” he tugs your chin closer to him with a sudden movement that brings your lips about an inch from his, continuing over your soft gasp of surprise with, “You definitely want it, too.”

Your features contort into a conflicted expression, eyes turning shifty as they look past him and over his shoulder to assess the risk of someone coming in and catching you two in your incredibly compromising position.

“Can you move before someone sees us?” you mumble, slightly embarrassed, and he chuckles, making you frown. “I’m serious!”

“I know somewhere quiet we can go where we probably won’t get interrupted.” he proposes in a sing-song voice.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for several moments before reopening them and meeting his gaze once more. “Not that I’m interested… but where exactly did you have in mind?”

The smile that takes over his face is more than a little worrisome; he’s smiling like he’s caught you and, more importantly, like he doesn’t plan on letting you go any time soon.

“Come,” he urges you quietly, lacing his fingers with yours and starting to lead you out of the kitchen.

“My snacks!” you complain as he pulls you away, and he pauses with a small sigh of disbelief and amusement to let you reach back and grab your plate before continuing to guide you to wherever he has in mind.

Haechan peeks into the hallway, looking both ways twice before pulling you after him quickly, rushing up the stairs, and finally pulling you into the bathroom on your top floor and locking the door behind you.

When you’ve finally got your wits about you and caught your breath from the sudden run upstairs, you take in your surroundings; you know your bathroom, obviously, and Haechan’s right—given that it’s the second bathroom in your apartment and that it’s located on the second floor away from the action, your chances of being interrupted or found are significantly lower.

“Haechan, what exactly are we doing in here?” you ask slowly as the realization of your situation sets in, and he smiles deceptively innocently.

“Just… spending some time together,” he murmurs, reaching out for your hands. You place your plate of snacks on the shelving unit by the toilet and tentatively oblige, letting him link your hands and pull you in closer until you’re practically chest to chest.

You two linger in the shared space together, the music from downstairs filtering up through the walls and providing a faint soundtrack for the two of you.

Haechan moves before you do, placing his hands on your hips and urging you to sit up onto the sink counter.

“Isn’t that better?” he coos sweetly, hands sliding down from your hips to rest on your knees. Looking at you for a silent confirmation, he gingerly spreads your legs and moves closer to stand between them.

He is hot, you note, heat radiating off of him through his Halloween costume, and you find yourself moving without realizing, your hands rising to carefully untie the orange eye mask around his eyes. When you pull the garment away from his head and toss it on top of the toilet seat, he smiles at you, warmth and adoration reflected in his eyes.

“Hi there,” he greets softly, voice lilting playfully, and you can’t help but snicker quietly.

“Hi, Haechan.”

“You smell good,” he notes off-handedly.

“Thanks?” you chuckle, admittedly a bit caught off-guard. He leans in slowly, your body gradually starting to tense as you brace yourself for whatever it is he plans to do, and brings his nose to your neck, breathing in deeply before humming contently.

His breath fans over your skin, strands of his hair tickling your collarbone as he lowers his face until he’s level with your chest.

“Haechan,” you protest weakly, and he looks up at you, studying your expression before leaning forward and pressing one daring kiss to just above your cleavage. “You know we shouldn’t.”

“You know you want to,” is his only reply before he lifts his head so you’re face to face again. “Aren’t you just at least a little bit curious? Hm?”

After what feels like ages, your internal battle comes to an end and your head moves before you can stop it, offering only the smallest of nods.

The smile he gives you in response is nothing short of radiant and he slides his arm around the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

“That’s it,” he encourages you in a soft whisper as you let him guide you further into his embrace.

“What do we say if they catch us?” you ask quietly, scared to break the intensity of the gaze Haechan has on you.

“They’re not gonna catch us,” Haechan breathes, inching closer to you. At your silence, he nudges his nose past your hair and presses his lips against the heated skin of your neck.

The silence hangs in the air between you two, a heavy emptiness as you think about what you’re about to do.

In the quiet, Haechan’s fingers trail along your hips, soothing circles massaged into your skin almost convincing you that what you’re contemplating is okay.

“Okay,” you say softly, finally, and you can feel a weight leave Haechan’s shoulders as you gently rest your hands on them. “Okay. But we can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“We already have our little secrets,” he reminds you with a small grin, wiggling his eyebrows. “What’s one more?” Haechan’s voice softens, almost indecipherable, before he gently presses his lips to yours.

You’re frozen at first, your mind still on the fence. It’s when he pulls you closer and a small, desperate grunt leaves his mouth, the tiniest “please,” that you crack, your lips slowly moving with his.

He kisses you like he’s been waiting for the opportunity his whole life. Practically yanking you off of the counter, he clutches you to his chest and squeezes you to him so tightly that you fall short of breath, your knees buckling as a plaintive whimper slips from you.

“Fuck, I need you—” He drops to his knees, eager fingers clumsily digging into your skin as he drags your shorts down your legs, eyes wide with an almost feral excitement and unbridled desire that leaves you floored. “Such a tease, showing off your body in this costume,” he grunts, and you can feel the air shifting—the closer he gets to having you, the more brazen he becomes; talking so smooth it’s damn near slippery, dangerously bold and cocky—

You suck in a loud breath as the cool air hits your newly exposed core, glistening folds catching the almost nonexistent breeze of Haechan’s ragged breathing. He stares at where your thighs meet with a slowly building hunger in his eyes before he’s pushing you back against the sink and urging your ass up onto the counter.

“Gonna let me eat your pretty pussy, right, baby?” he mutters urgently, spreading your legs as wide as they’ll go. He shifts his weight to his knees and moves between your thighs to block them from closing and when he looks up at you for a response to his question, the sheer desperation in his eyes and the greedy way his hands knead your inner thighs has you stunned into momentary silence, simply nodding in a daze. An almost crippling wave of relief visibly washes over him for a moment and he presses his face between your legs and groans in delight, slurring slightly when he mumbles, “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much.”

You don’t even get to unpack how stunned his words of reverence and gratitude leave you before his tongue drags up your folds, pink muscle fat and heavy and unceremoniously slurping at your arousal. You moan weakly, only to wince at the realization that people can probably hear you two from outside the bathroom between the wet noises and grunts of satisfaction Haechan is letting out as he sucks and licks at your core and your own poorly stifled moans as you grip at his hair.

“Taste so fucking good,” he moans, hiking your leg up to drape it over his shoulder. He brings himself closer and focuses his attention on your swollen clit, suckling on the sensitive bundle of nerves before flicking it back and forth with the tip of his tongue. “All for me, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, trying to compose yourself in spite of his almost ravenous devouring of your core. You can feel wetness accumulating between your thighs, some of it even slowly dripping down your legs, and when you look down at Haechan, he looks up at you with bright eyes, pupils wide with desire, and he lolls his tongue out in an almost teasing gesture, leaving you to marvel at the clear beads of saliva dripping from the tip of his tongue to the floor.

“Such a pretty girl,” he mumbles, lips glossy with spit before he surges forward again, burying his face in between your legs with such sudden force it has you stumbling backwards. “Pretty girl likes it when I drool all over her perfect fucking pussy, yeah?”

“Fuck—” you hiss in surprise. You knew Haechan could talk slick, but the way he’s egging you on, maintaining his smug demeanor as he skilfully brings you closer to the edge, has lust swimming in your mind.

“Could eat your pussy all night, baby,” he grunts in a throaty voice, pausing to let his tongue flick over your entrance tauntingly. When your breath catches, his eyes are quick to dart up to yours curiously before he shoots you a dazzling grin, understanding written all over his handsome features. “So damn good for me—I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“Haechan,” you whine plaintively, the tightening feeling in your abdomen growing as he presses the tip of his tongue into you slightly. “Don’t tease me—”

“You tease me all the time,” he counters, brows furrowed almost petulantly as he stares up at you. “Hell, you teased me tonight—walking around in this sexy little costume of yours,” he grunts, pushing your shirt up in jerky motions to reveal your bra and your cleavage, “like I wasn’t gonna spend all night thinking about you.”

You open your mouth to protest that you didn’t wear it for him, that he was really just collateral damage, but the rebuttal dies on your tongue as he pushes his tongue into you as far as it’ll go. You jolt in surprise, the sensation pleasurable but foreign, and let out a shuddered sigh of his name as he starts moving his tongue inside of you, swirling and flicking and pulling out to slurp greedily before starting all over again.

When he reaches up to massage circles around your clit and resumes teasing your entrance with his tongue, you promptly lose it, climaxing with a muffled cry bordering on a dry sob of his name and various curses as your legs shake around him.

To your surprise, he doesn’t let up, only intensifying the pressure he’s applying to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance repeatedly, the pleasure quickly becoming overwhelming.

“Haechan—” you hiss, your body starting to curl in on itself protectively. “Fuck—too much—”

“You can take it, baby,” he assures you sweetly. “You’re doing so well.” He slows down the circles around your clit and you think for a moment that he might let up, but he just brings his lips to the overstimulated bud and sucks on it hard, massaging it with his tongue as you clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out. “That’s my good girl,” he purrs with his mouth sloppily moving against your clit, and the vibrations as well as his messy, wet kisses send you tipping over the edge once more.

This climax is quieter than the rest, your eyes rolling back as your lids flutter shut and your mouth drops open to let out shaky gasps and exhales as ecstasy overtakes you.

Haechan watches you climax in awe, eyes laced with hunger and desire before he moves, unable to take it any longer.

“God, you’re so good,” Haechan mumbles in a daze, fingers digging into your thighs. “So fucking good—turn around—”

”Turn around?” you slur, lost in the aftermath of your climax, only to cry out in surprise and sudden realization when he flips you around so you’re facing the sink, bends you over and starts leaving wet kisses on your asscheeks that come dangerously closer and closer to where they meet. “Haechan—fuck, oh, my God—”

“Relax, baby,” he assures you, words dragging into the next, “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” True to his word, he parts your asscheeks and drags his tongue up from your entrance to your asshole before swirling his tongue around the rim slowly.

”Holy shit,” you exhale breathlessly, fingers gripping the sink counter so hard your knuckles pale.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he groans in ecstasy, burying his face in your ass as he laps at your hole eagerly. “Want you to make a fucking mess for me—cover me in your cum, I want it all—don’t care who sees—”

You can only let out a broken wail as his tongue breaches the tight ring and his slick fingers find their way to your hypersensitive clit, tweaking the bundle of nerves and rubbing quick circles around it as your legs tremble and knees come dangerously close to buckling.

Tears start to build in your eyes as he delivers wet lash after wet lash to your rim with his tongue, swirling and dipping and flicking with almost alarming expertise and an overwhelming desire to make you come undone.

Trembling whimpers fall freely from your lips, now uncaring about who might hear you through the door as Haechan’s mouth brings you close to yet another peak.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm? Gonna cum all over my fingers—want you to cum so bad, please—”

You’re not entirely sure if it’s the way he’s stimulating you and your clit or if it’s the entirely desperate pleading for you to cum, but you do just that, climaxing around his fingers with a poorly restrained moan of his name. A tremor of pleasure travels through your body as your legs shake and you bite down on your bottom lip so hard it hurts.

After one final long drag of his tongue up your slit and crack of your ass, he presses a sloppy wet kiss to your ass cheek before he stands up and starts to fumble with his costume, struggling slightly to find the small zipper at the back of his neck.

You giggle fondly, watching him in the mirror, and turn to face him, reaching behind him and finding the zipper with ease before pulling it down as far as you can reach.

“Better?” you ask softly, and he nods, swallowing visibly.

“Better,” he confirms with a small shy grin before shrugging out of the costume and pushing it down to his ankles, stepping out of the pool of fabric and towards you. He’s clad now in a gray short sleeved shirt and gray boxers that hug his length as it strains against the fabric. When you manage to stop staring at his imprint, you look up at him to see him watching you with a smug grin and an eyebrow raised, the shyness from earlier nowhere to be found.

“See something you like?” he asks teasingly, and you narrow your eyes before laughing and pushing his chest.

“Shut up.” you mutter with a smile, and he catches your hand before it leaves his chest, linking his fingers with yours and kissing the inside of your wrist. Your eyes widen in mild surprise but he keeps kissing up your arm, lingering in the crook of your arm when you giggle, and up your shoulder and neck to connect with your lips in a heated, desperate kiss that makes you feel deliciously filthy when you taste your arousal on his tongue.

“Need to be inside of you,” he grunts, reaching between your bodies to palm at his length roughly. He pulls himself out of his boxers with a groan of relief before pushing you back against the sink counter none too gently and spreading your legs a bit wider.

“Gonna let me fuck your pretty pussy, baby?” he murmurs against your lips, bringing the head of his cock to your core, dragging it up and down along your folds and collecting the arousal to smear over the tip as lubrication.

“Yeah,” you half-whisper, half-groan, and he beams against your lips before pushing the tip of his length past your entrance, taking in a sharp breath as your walls wrap around him welcomingly, practically sucking him further in.

“God, this pussy just loves my cock, doesn’t it?” he teases you, and you whimper in protest, pushing on his chest to get him to stop. Undeterred, he continues on, “I know it does, baby, it’s okay.” All the while, he’s resisting your pushing and leaning closer still to connect his lips with yours over and over again, the only sounds in the room being his grunts of satisfaction when your mouths meet and lewd wet noises as you two kiss, your every breath and cry of pleasure muffled by his relentless kissing.

He starts to fuck into you slowly, gradually building to a pace that has your head tipping back and your lips parting as you desperately pant for air.

His hands roam your body greedily, grabbing at and groping your breasts, squeezing your hips and sliding back to grab at your ass before moving back up to tease at your nipples, pinching them, tweaking, flicking and tugging on them until you let out a pleasure-filled gasp.

Sensing your rapidly declining composure, he brings his lips to your jaw, sucking and licking his way down your neck and past your collarbones before he presses your breasts together and buries his face between them, his mouth leaving sinful trails of saliva as he makes his way to your nipples and sucks on them eagerly, swirling his tongue around the bud and flicking it up and down teasingly before switching to shower the other breast in attention.

Overwhelmed by all the pleasure and the practically static intensity in the air, you can only run your fingers through his hair as he licks and kisses all over your breasts. To your surprise, Haechan doesn’t let up on anything—the strokes into you, the attention given to your breasts, and the greedy caresses and grabs of the fleshier parts of your body like your hips, waist, ass—and his all-encompassing stimulation has you hurtling towards your next climax eagerly.

Not a moment too soon, that deliciously familiar tugging sensation begins to manifest in the pit of your stomach, and your cries grow all the more plaintive as your orgasm starts to build.

“Hae—chan—” you gasp, nails digging none too gently into his shoulders, and Haechan winces in both pain and pleasure. “Gonna cum—wanna cum so bad—let me cum, please—”

“That’s it, baby, go on,” he urges you in a throaty murmur that only serves to send you hurtling towards the edge even faster. “Cum for me, baby, I know you can.”

With a broken, pleading whimper, you reach your peak, now very thankful for Haechan’s tight, damn near possessive grip on you as your legs start to buckle from the overwhelming sensations of pleasure flowing through you.

He dips his head down, kissing down your cheek and finally mouthing languidly at the flesh of your neck, his tongue and teeth both making surprise appearances.

“One day, I’m gonna mark this pretty neck all over.” he slurs, practically drunk with lust as he pounds into you, his thrusts growing more erratic as his desperation to reach his climax increases.

“Haechan,” you moan, moving one hand from his shoulder to cup the back of his neck. “Haechan, are you gonna cum?”

“Fuck—yes, baby, I’m about to cum,” he replies with gritted teeth, and you hum encouragingly, repeatedly flexing your walls around him. “Baby, please tell me I can cum in you—wanna fill you up—”

“Yes,” you agree immediately, and he cries out in relief, the sound of pleasure a bit choked off as he gives one final, deep thrust into you and stays there, burying himself to the hilt as he releases into you, your walls reflexively milking his cock for every last drop.

“You’re amazing,” Haechan whispers adoringly, kissing up your neck and stopping at your lips, pulling you impossibly closer for a slow yet deep kiss that leaves your mind reeling. “Literally like a dream come true.”

He pulls out of you carefully, using a makeshift wad of toilet paper to gingerly clean between your legs and tossing it in the toilet, following it shortly after with another wad he’s used to clean himself up.

“You’d better not clog my toilet, sir,” you joke casually as you touch up your appearance in the mirror over the sink, not noticing until several beats later that Haechan hasn’t responded. When you look over at him curiously, you’re not expecting him to be eyeing you up like a predator about to pounce.

“I think you should avoid calling me things like ‘sir’ if you want to leave this bathroom and go back to that party any time soon.” Haechan warns you in a surprisingly serious voice, dark eyes staring directly into yours as a silent challenge.

You don’t know what’s come over you—possibly the post-nut dopamine rush making you more friendly—but you look over your shoulder at him with your eyebrows raised and a playful smile curling your lips.

“How about things like ‘Daddy’ instead?” you ask curiously, shifting your gaze to watch him in the mirror, and you watch in amusement as he tenses, his jaw clenching handsomely before he looks directly into the mirror and meets your gaze with such a “fuck around and find out” level of intensity that you look away immediately, eyes wide in surprise.

“Keep playing if you want to.” he offers, and you shake your head.

“I’m done being difficult,” you inform him. “I’m busy grappling with the fact that not only did I let my friend’s boyfriend hit just now, but I let my friend’s boyfriend hit while he was dressed as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.”

Haechan laughs at that, the tension between you two dissipating in an instant, before picking up his orange eye mask and attempting to tie it around his face again.

You step in after his second failed attempt, gently taking the garment and placing it over his eyes, making sure the holes are aligned correctly before tying it securely behind his head.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, suddenly sounding a lot more bashful than you’re used to.

You nod, placing your hands on his shoulders and squeezing gently. “You’re welcome.” you reply, but he doesn’t move, still looking into your eyes like he’s committing the sight of you like this to memory. “Haechan, this is the part where you move.” you inform him, and he blinks hard several times before breaking eye contact to look somewhere else.

“Sorry,” he grunts, stepping back so you can move from against the counter. “Wait!” he calls before you open the door, his hand curling around your forearm to pull you into what you assume is one last kiss.

You have to hand it to him; his kisses are nothing short of intense, and each one leaves you a little more mentally disheveled than the one before, which is the exact reason why you have to go quickly.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he calls after you as you step out of the bathroom into the darkened hallway, making sure to look both ways for any surprise witnesses.

As you make your way downstairs to rejoin the party, you flash through a myriad of emotions as you process everything that just took place, but you can’t help but notice that guilt has yet to show itself.

It does dawn on you about an hour later, however, as you catch Haechan watching you for the third time in the past fifteen minutes as you dance and joke with your friends, that you may have started something you can’t just stop on your own, cold turkey style.

TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the third part will be up in exactly one week! reminder that (only if you’re able) tips are very much appreciated, as is positive feedback! if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask and please make sure your privacy settings are updated accordingly!

LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)

DON’T WANNA WAIT TO READ THE WHOLE FIC? you can read it here on my patreon!!

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #donghyuck smut #lee haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #haechan x reader

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jonahxrivas · 5 months ago

Text

He didn't believe her one bit but let the subject go with a light laugh and a nod, "You do have me." And that was a promise too. He moved closer as she placed her head on his shoulder, pace slowing down too as they walked, and really, he wanted more of such days, didn't want to be tensed with fear but that felt like it was too much to ask for these days. "I will do my best to at least try on what you have in mind? I like simple things and your style is well.. a proper style. I look like I roll out of bed and call it day," he laughed a little, "But I want to actually look good for him. But the you'll hate is... well I'm going barefoot for wedding since it's on the beach, it makes sense." Sensing a slight dejection, Jonah shook his head, "I mean, yes, you both had your differences but that's not the reason here? No one was deliberately keeping this from you, it's also not a case of leaving you out," he reassured her. "Not really? Rohan, Bex and I, yes meet up, but it's not everyday or even all the time? Same with Amrita and Ro. He just introduced us formally after they discovered it, but we don't all hang out together? Amrita drops by the aquarium from time to time but all three of us together doesn't happen as regular as you might think it to be?" He himself was caught up in ongoing research to block out time for social things, which, yes, was likely not a good thing, but he liked how the way his mind diverted, and he was trying to be more social, but more people lead to talking and that was never something he was good at. "I do have friends here, it'd be unfair to them to say I don't but..." he shrugged, "I'm with you and Rohan the most."

You should be excited. Those words rang in his head over and over, a weak smile forming when he looked at her. He was, he was excited and looking forward to it, he was, "I am, I am," he voiced those thoughts, but they feel like reassurances to himself, quiet and soft rather than what excitement should sound like. "I just…" There were so many things that could go wrong with their visit here and that kicked up his anxiety, "I don't want them to get hurt." He would have said more on that but Bri grew silent for a bit and all his thoughts stilled as he watched her. "Oh?" He began to backtrack on his words but as she continued he sighed a little in relief at the misunderstanding, "Oh, no no, I didn't mean surprise them, god, that would not work, no, I meant that I will tell them but you, like you said, be somewhere near while I do. I want them to see and talk to you first, before anyone else. They'll be coming in a week before, so it'll be hard to keep for them not seeing you anyway." He paused again, gaze averting as he looked away sadly, "I won't be able to pick them up, because well… you know, but yes, I'll have to talk to Rohan to bring them in to the house." The weight inside his chest grew, the warmth and happiness that began to bloom at Rohan finally meeting his mothers was overshadowed by those words, "Yeah..they'll leave…" He wished the opposite was the case, they could stay and live in this town that he had to call home now, but darkness loomed over Lunar Cove, the little moments of sun that peeked to cut through the shadows wasn't enough for him to feel relief or any sense of safety to having his mothers here. Yes, the outside world posed it's own dangers, but he had lived out there for thirty plus years, the fears that came with its accidents he had accepted, but this? He wasn't afraid of dying, not in the outside and not in Lunar Cove anymore either, not when he brushed with it more times that he'd like, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that crept of his mothers, her aunts, dying here. That he realised was far greater than his own future demise.

Thoughts weaved on other things, and that right there, added to his solemn mood. He was glad to be looking down and away when she tried to joke, his mind not letting that register as just a casual thing. Blinking rapidly he tried to let his emotions not show, feeling rather pathetic that it still held that sentiment. But that was his fault and despite her wanting to brush it off in this moment, it still meant that she held it to heart and neither did it erase his mistake, and he owned up to it. "No, you're right though, I did do that. I promise, I'm not going to leave. I shouldn't have done it in the first place." He missed home a great terrible deal after that, he often did, but this was his home now whether he'd be alive long enough to live it was another question. He braved a smile but it fell flat as he looked to the ocean again for a moment, a lung full of sea air somewhat steeled him. "It would strange, yeah, but good, I just didn't well... you know." He sighed a little, a tick of a smile forming now as she kept talking, "Of course, you'd have a binder. But that's good, I'm glad found something that you like, really, it's wonderful, you should show me sometime. Sounds like it fits your tastes too, even if it might be haunted? I won't tell her, but you don't mind it?" He had, by now, assimilated and adjusted to haunted things, finding them rather charming in a way thanks to being around Rohan, still he posed that question to Bri unsure if she held such a sentiment. "Yes, I'm okay with that, you bought it. Thank you for thinking of us but we'll be okay." A fresh is what they wanted, a house to call their own when they finally got married, and that excited him pushing fears away for the time being. "I appreciate your bias," he said with a chuckle, "But no. I've never met anyone so understanding and loving, even after everything I've put him through he still holds no expectations and lets me be me. How could I not consider myself lucky?" He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sun warm his body and soul before giving her a light nod, "Yeah, we can head back."

"It's okay. I'm fine," She promised him, resting her hand against his shoulder to steady herself as they wandered down the beach. "I have you after all," She told him, a bright smile finding its way to her lips as she beamed up at her cousin. Looping her arm through his, she moved to rest her head against his shoulder. It was nice, getting to do this. Even if she was completely overdressed for the occasion, but it was rare these days for them to get to hang out together like they used back in Oregon. Back before they had to worry about hunters and serial killers and death around ever corner. She had missed this. She had missed them. But, as he told her he'd likely hate her more, her brow tilted up, shooting him a wary narrowed eyed look as if to ask if she even wanted to know. "I mean I'm never going to turn down shopping, though I'm fairly certain what you'd want to wear and what I'd pick out for you very drastically, but yes. I'd happily take you shopping," She promised him, giving his arm a light squeeze at the thought. Only at the mention of Amrita, she found herself growing quiet before she gave him a small shrug. "It's okay. It's not really all that surprising. Rohan and I have had our differences, though I still stand by the fact he like me up until recently, and even now I think it may be debatable? But, It's not like I don't know that you, Rohan and Bexley hang out all the time or how you, Rohan and Amrita likely have. You've built something for yourself here. It's only natural," She trailed off, biting down lightly on her bottom lip as they continued walking. Even if the worry that she might be left out because she and Rohan had their differences seemed to be ringing a little true, as much she tried to tell herself that her insecurities were just delusional and she really need to stop projecting them on to other people... Whoops.

"That is big," A small squeal broke from her lips as she gave Jonah's arm another reassuring squeeze. "Freaking out? Why are you freaking out? It's exciting! You should be excited and I know they'll be over the moon to see you walk down the aisle," She teased, giving him a slight bump with her hip as they slowed. Bri dipped her own toes into the water as she peered up at him expectantly. But, at his question, she found herself growing pale. "I- I don't-" She started to stutter out, suddenly remembering how it had been the day she had first come back. The look of complete and utter horror on Jonah's face was hard to forget. "I don't know if that's a good idea?" She admitted quietly. Chewing on her bottom lip once more as she mulled over the right way to say it. "It's not that I don't want to, I do. I just don't think surprising them with, well, me, without at least prefacing that I'm back from the dead is going to go over too well and I'm not really sure I can go through watching another person freak out or faint at the sight of me... Maybe, you could meet them first though? They could arrive to the house and I could hide up stairs to give you time to explain the sort of... elephant in the room," She winced slightly at her choice of description, how ever applicable. "And then I could come down? Logistically speaking and all? And I mean obviously. They're coming to a town filled magic, they're going to see it and I know that they'll leave and..." And would forget her. Her chest tightened at the thought, clearly not ready to process that one yet. "But, I just think given how you took the news and all, maybe we try to break it to them gently, is all... If that is even possible..."

"I mean I've kind of already been abandoned by you. You didn't exactly give a disclaimer when you did it," She attempt to tease, only to quickly remember that it was likely far too soon to try to crack a joke about. "Sorry, I was trying to make light of- ignore me... Oh," She paused, trying to keep her facial features in check to no avail. Her brow lifted ever so slightly as she gave him an eased look as if to say 'is that it?' "Jonah, no offense, but I've been asking you when you were moving out for months now. It would be weirder if you weren't. I mean I love living with you don't get me wrong and I don't want you to move out, but it would be kind of weirder if you and your soon-to-be husband moved in with Ronnie and I," She pointed softly out. "You're getting married. Moving into together is an inevitable next step. I knew it was going to happen the day you said you told me you were engaged and I've already figured it all out. Have a binder and everything," She told him, a little proud at how prepared she was this time around. "There is this apartment over in Celestial Hills that is going on sale that is to die for. Literally. The previous owner just recently dropped dead. Please don't tell Ronnie that though. The last thing she needs to know is that we may end up being haunted by an elderly lady. Regardless, I may have bribed the realtor to let me take a look around and it is incredible, Jonah. I mean incredible. It's very je ne sais quoi, tre magnifique? Basically, very french. The owner before the last one apparently was some hundred year old french vampire who based the place off of Versailles. How fun is that? Anyways, the game plan- I put down a deposit a couple days ago, since the wedding date is set and all, to hold it for us and as long as I sign the papers in the next day or so, it's ours. I was going to gift you and Rohan the house, but it seemed like you guys were already doing your own thing on your own. So, if you're okay with it, when I sign for the apartment, I can let the realtor know the house is good to put up for sale. I'm sure with that kind of beach front property it will be sold fairly quickly too," She admitted with another small shrug, which was good. Jonah was started fresh in a new house and she couldn't bare staying in theirs any longer. She would never say it out loud, but she had grown to hate their house. Not so much the house itself, but how lonely she had felt in it after he left. And as great as it was when he was over, whenever he crashed at Rohan's and Ronnie was out, she found herself feeling that sinking feeling in her chest all over again. It was a feeling she didn't want to feel anymore and, if he was leaving, the best way to ensure that she didn't was have a fresh start herself. One with hopefully better energy and, she had never lived with only girls before, so now was her chance to make the place as girly as she could possibly want. "I think he's the one whose lucky and who you are putting up with, but what can I say? I may be a little bias," She teased, giving him another small nudge as she motioned with a slight tilt of her chin back up towards the house. "You ready to start walking back now?"

#— convo;#c: brielle rivas #c: bri 009

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chazukekani · 4 years ago

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Previous // Next

Summary for Code:04 is here!

Please notice that this is just a summary so not every single detail is included!

Stormbringer Summary 5

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Recap: N and Verlaine escaped from the laboratory.

The chapter begins with an excerpt of Rimbaud's diary. He wrote that there was once an anti-government movement 'May Revolution', and the leaders were called 'The Fauns'. They created a secret weapon which was named 'No.12 of Darkness' that can control gravity freely. Once Rimbaud acquired this weapon, he was ordered to educate him and trained this weapon to become a spy, and its name was Paul Verlaine.

- Unbelievable. The Secret of the Gentle Forest was decoded. Here it lies the most fierce beast, and Verlaine...

Rimbaud wrote in his diary.

Verlaine and N were at the top of a tower crane. Verlaine had N here because he wanted to know why N knew the Secret. However, N claimed that the last 6 pages of the Secret was erased by Rimbaud himself so he couldn't tell much. Verlaine couldn't believe that's actually Rimbaud who altered the information.

He was strong, Verlaine referred to Rimbaud. He is the only one who was capable of battling with Verlaine in his organisation, and they were partners. Not only this, Rimbaud also called Verlaine his friend, but Verlaine just felt like he couldn't like Rimbaud.

Verlaine left N on the tower crane alone and left.

It was a night with a clear sky, a train was moving on the railway and Mori was sleeping inside. At once, a human showed up on the railway, and stopped the train. The train was derailed as a result of mass shock. Verlaine went inside the train and searched for something, and he believed no one inside the train was able to survive after the shock.

Verlaine found the body of Mori, and he approached to confirm the breath. But that wasn't Mori. It was a man who wore the outfit of his, but was not Mori himself. Turns out it was Mori's double, Hirotsu. A tiny person also appeared afterwards, and that's Dazai.

Suddenly, there was light in the dark, and that was flame. By the mountain near the railway, there were 50 and more sniper bullets aimed and shotted Verlaine, and the target was in utter pain.

'Don't think these little rocks could kill me...' Verlaine was trying to use the woods beside him to attack the snipers who were hiding in the mountain, but he stopped

'Hoho- You really look like my subordinate when I take a closer look' said an elegant lady, Kouyou. She summoned Golden Demon and launched offense towards Verlaine.

'You can't beat me alone,' Verlaine said.

'Who said I am alone?' Verlaine then felt his whole body sinking down to the ground, and turned into multiple snakes that were about to swallow him. That was the Lieutenant's ability (reference to Dead Apple manga, former Port Mafia executive), that could manipulate the state of objects.

'Ability organisations are stronger than ability users,' Dazai observed and smiled. Various ability users from the Port Mafia were launching all kinds of attacks towards him, such as the ability of slowing the time and freezing. In fact, Dazai sent 420 Mafia members which included 28 ability users to the scene to defeat Verlaine.

'I will mourn you,' Dazai said to Verlaine, and took out Rimbaud's diary from his pocket.

The next moment, a black wave inflated and spreaded to the whole field.

'-- You hatreds, your dumb torpors, your weaknessses,

And your brutalisation suffered long ago,

You give back, O Night, like an excess,

Un-malevolent, of blood, each month or so, (extract from The Sisters of Charity, by Arthur Rimbaud)' Verlaine said the spell.

The wind calmed, the buzz on the ground vanished as if escaping from something. The invisible waves were flooded in the atmosphere.

'The door was opened,' Dazai observed. A black object appeared far far away in the forest. Right after, where Verlaine were, ejected a form of dark energy. The car that was hit by this energy was completely deformed with half of it vanished and the remains were just like a wrapped paper.

On the mountain, there was a monster who controlled a dark sphere. When people touched the sphere, they died.

No.3 Forces, annihilated; No.5 forces, all dead, No.8 forces, no response, as reported from Dazai's walkie talkie. The mountained was eliminated, and the ground was distorted. All the mafia members were screaming and suffering.

'It's all in the plan, we will win if the next attack succeeds,' said Dazai.

Up in the sky of Yokohama, Chuuya and Adam were inside a helicopter and they jumped off from it due to the attack from the monster. Adam was able to fly in the sky because his body allowed him to transform himself into a flying machine.

Similar to Chuuya, Verlaine was also intolerant to poison despite having ample physical strength, so actually it was their plan to approach Verlaine closely, so that they can inject poison into Verlaine's body. It was notable that Adam mixed this poison pill.

It was very difficult to get closer to Verlaine because he had activated his corruption, which he lost his consciousness and attacked the surroundings without rationality.

Nonetheless, Chuuya did put a toxic pill into Verlaine's mouth, which he has his conscious back. Yet Verlaine splitted out the pills right after.

'You always surprise me, Chuuya,' Verlaine spoke. He told Chuuya that once he said the spell, he would have his human personality unlocked and become a mad beast that generated ability singularity. However, that is Rimbaud who thought about adding a spell on Verlaine, which enabled him to get back to a rational form after using his corruption.

'He always thinks about what he could do for me,' said Verlaine.

'But you betrayed him,' Chuuya replied

'Because I wanted to save you,' Verlaine answered.

Suddenly, a finger touched Verlaine's face.

'What an unexpected offense. I bet no one could foresee this. What a joke,' said Chuuya

Verlaine turned back, and realised that was Adam's finger.

'Do you wanna hear an android joke?' Adam's finger was installed with a tiny syringe, and this enabled poison to be injected into Verlaine's body.

'Seems like a child's trick can defeat the king of assassins. Thanks for listening to my android joke.'

It returns to another section of Rimbaud's diary. Rimbaud was thinking about what presents he should give to Verlaine on his birthday. He came up to a conclusion: a black hat. That was not an ordinary hat. The materials used inside the hat consists of 10% platinum, 10% titanium and the rest were made with rainbow-coloured ability metal which was installed with the ability of the Fauns inside. By wearing this hat, it enabled Verlaine to act on his own will and less interfered by external instructions and interruption. In other words, Verlaine was a step closer to a man with free will by having this hat.

Rimbaud gave the hat to Verlaine on his birthday, and he did not look surprised or happy either way.

'Just take it,' Rimbaud told Verlaine, and there was no response. They drank some wine that night and said goodnight to each other.

The battle was so called ended, but the field was left with gravity waves and the forest was completely destroyed. Verlained passed out, but still alive. Dazai told Adam and Chuuya that N was rescued from the tower crane, but disappeared during transportation.

'I can't die here...' said N. The car that he was taking bumped into a utility pole because he injected some form of medicine to the driver. He took out an old style flare gun and shooted.

'Is this some mistake made by the offense team?' Chuuya noticed the shot far away.

'Shit...' Dazai's eyes were in despair.

The shot that shooted from N's flare gun was exploded with colourful metal pieces floating in the air like snow, and even accompanied with some music. Verlaine suddenly yelled painfully. His eyes were filled with blood and the blood stream was clear on his face and grabbed his chest hardly.

'That was not the effect of my pill!' Adam shouted, 'The gravitational field was unusual here!'

The space was deformed, and Verlaine was flooded inside his own gravity wave.

'The world ends here...' Verlained whispered just like an old man who's dying 'Run, Chuuya.' Verlaine smiled sorrowfully.

The sky was divided, the thunder was coming and the atmosphere was expanding. N saw the ability form of Verlaine. It was a black beast, the opposite of god, and original demon -- Guivre the Beast. The monster annihilated all the aircrafts incoming and was about to proceed to the city center.

'See that Verlaine! That's your end!' N laughed, almost screamed. 'An unique being like you will die because of such a boring creature like me! HAHAHAHA DIE VERLAINE!'

Here comes a flashback during the night of Rimbaud and Verlaine's mission of stealing Arahabaki.

'Don't give this kid to the French,' Verlaine was holding the young Chuuya on his arm.

'What?' Rimbaud was confused.

'Don't hand him over to anyone, and don't let him go back to the lab. Grow this kid in a farm and just never let him know about his truth.'

'What are you talking about?' Rimbaud asked once again.

'Think about it Rimbaud,' Verlaine's voice was tense and hostile at the same time, 'If someone tells you you're not a human, how impactful it will be. You are not born with god's blessing but just a programme, how hurtful it is. You cannot see the moon and live in darkness forever without any hope, and no one will come save you. Even such a feeling of despair is designed by someone else!'

'We have this conversation countless times, Paul,' Rimbaud stepped forward, 'You are a human, everyone sees that. Instead of thinking how you were made, isn't it better to think what you should be as a being?'

'Paul...' 'Don't get close.'

'I am sorry. Anyways, should we go back and have a chat?' Rimbaud stepped forward again.

'No, it's too late.'

A huge fight between the spies broke out.

Adam had an idea to stop the destruction of Guivre. Almost at the end of the Great War, Britain had developed something that was currently the energy source of Adam's machines. However, the initial usage of Adam's energy source was a mass destruction weapon. Adam smiled and continued. If they used Adam's weapon inside him, they could burn and melt the Guivre.

So they put this in practise. Adam asked Chuuya to tie Adam's own arm to an electric cable. However, Adam pushed Chuuya away when he was about to trigger the weapon. He explained to Chuuya that the weapon inside him was called the Shell (55 minutes reference). It can burn down the surroundings of 22 yard radius, and the internal temperature could reach 6000 degree celsius, and that is almost the temperature of the sun surface. This was sufficient to destroy the Guivre.

'Don't do this!' Chuuya cried

'Don't you have your dream! To build an investigation organisation purely ran by machines right!'

Adam silenced for two seconds.

'My dream is to protect humans,' Adam replied, 'and my dream comes true now.'

'Wait!'

A gigantic fireball. It burned the woods, and boiled the land, and altogether evaporated. The Guivre moaned miserably and decomposed in the air. Adam sacrificed himself and the monster was destroyed.

However, the tail of the beast in front of Chuuya and Dazai was forming into something. That piece of tail suddenly grew a face out of it, something like a reptile. It then turned into a huge form of creature. Its head was pretty much the head of the former Guivre, but the number of eyes were different, and it had red eyes.

'Don't look at it, Chuuya,' Dazai warned, 'He was sensitive to emotion, so don't let him see you.'

'I know how to defeat this ability singularity,' said Chuuya, 'I recalled from my memory.'

'Let's brief me that,' Dazai smiled.

They figured out how to open Chuuya's door. In order to activate Chuuya's corruption, he needs to say the spell 'Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again'. Together with the hat gifted by Rimbaud, Chuuya could control the door with his own consciousness. However, there's a problem. Once Chuuya said the spell, the log inside his programme will altogether be erased, which means Chuuya could no longer find out whether he was human or not via the programme.

Chuuya was flying in the sky. He grabbed his hat tightly and recalled his friend's word

-- I am satisfied that I can protect you.

And he said 'Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again.'

The battle between the gigantic beast and a tiny Arakami (God of Arahabaki) began. Dazai was directing the forces to launch offense towards the beast. Meanwhile Chuuya's physical body could no longer tolerate the power inside his body. He was bleeding severely. Finally, Chuuya created an enormous fireball that was as if the second sun in the night. Finally, the beast disappeared and Dazai nullified corruption.

Code:04 End

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs storm bringer #bungou stray dogs storm bringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd paul verlaine #bsd adam frankenstein #bsd dazai osamu #bsd ozaki kouyou #nakahara chuuya #paul verlaine #adam frankenstein #dazai osamu #ozaki kouyou #hirotsu ryuurou #bsd hirotsu ryuuro

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago

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Rumour Has It | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary: You are dating Tom Hiddleston but no one on set knows and you hope to keep it that way. When Tom’s big love scene comes up, your jealousy bubbles up and threatens to ruin the secret bliss you have created.

Warnings: jealousy, implied smut

“Someone will see us, Thomas.” you muttered as he pushed you against the door to his hotel room, his lips pressed against you.

“Let them see. I’m not ashamed of our relationship.” Tom pressed his hips into you. His hands raked down the sides of your body. “Unlike some people.”

You pushed Tom off of you and opened the door, slamming the door once you crossed the threshold.

You sighed. “It’s not shame and you know that. The rumour mill on set is bad enough under normal circumstances. I would rather not play out this relationship under the scrutiny of the cast and crew, thank you very much.” You slipped your shoes off and Tom did the same.

He sat on the edge of the bed to continue undressing. “You read too much into these things.” he smirked. “Everyone is too busy doing their job to pay attention.”

He beckoned you over as he tugged off his jeans. You slipped your panties off from under your dress and straddled his hips.

You cupped his face. “You are oblivious sometimes, aren’t you?” You kissed him, slipping your tongue into his mouth, hungry for more.

“I’m not oblivious to your effect on me.” Tom nipped at your neck.

You smirked as you wiggled in his lap. “And what effect is that?”

“Let me show you.” Tom pulled you tight against him.

You rode into the studio early that morning with Tom rather than waiting for your call time later in the day. Tom’s hand inched up your thigh in the back of the car.

“The driver will see.” you hissed, removing his hand, only for Tom to place it back on your knee immediately, squeezing.

“Frank is focused on the road.” Tom leaned over to nip behind your ear.

You shoved him back into his seat. “No!” you protested louder than you meant to.

“Everything alright back there, ma’am?” Frank called out, slowing down.

“Fine, Frank.” Tom responded. “She banged her knee against the console.”

You glared at Tom. “I’m about to bang something.” you whispered.

Tom leaned in close. “Save the dirty talk for later.” he teased.

You rolled your eyes before turning your attention to your phone for the rest of the ride. Once you arrived on set, Tom headed out to hair and makeup while you beelined for craft services. You skipped breakfast that morning for more “vigorous” activities.

“You’re here awfully early today.” a voice boomed behind you and you jumped, dropping your cup of tea.

You spun on your heels to punch Michael Sheen in the arm.

“Stop doing that! I dropped my tea.” You snatched a danish, reaching across Michael.

“If you’re so jumpy, perhaps more caffeine is not the answer.” Michael took a large bite of a cookie. “I would suggest decaf. And you still haven’t answer my question, why are you here?”

You took a long draw of coffee to avoid answer the question. Michael stared you down, tapping his foot in frustration.

“Can I help you?” you asked from behind your coffee mug and turned away from Michael to find a quiet place on set to watch Tom work.

“For heaven’s sake woman, it’s a simple question. It’s not like I’m accusing of having an illicit affair on set.” Michael blurted out.

You snorted coffee up your nose and started coughing, grateful you turned your back. Michael rushed to your side, pounded on your back.

“Breathe, darling. Breathe. So you have heard the rumours too?”

“I beg your pardon? What rumours?”

Michael grabbed you by the elbow and guided you behind a trailer. “There’s a bit of buzz of an on-set romance between our darling Thomas and someone.” he whispered conspiratorially.

You did your best to hide your shock. You did a poor job, but Michael took it as genuine surprise rather than embarrassment.

“Any idea who?” you choked out.

Michael glanced over his shoulder as though he was getting ready to spill State secrets, rather than flimsy gossip. “No idea. Which is why I would suggest keeping your eyes and ears open.”

A gaffer walked by and Michael leaned against the trailer looking like a cat who just ate the cream. He pointed his fingers at his eyes and then you as he strolled away.

“Eyes and ears open.” he hissed before ducking behind the trailer.

“Shit!” you muttered and stomped off to find Tom.

You never found Tom, chasing him throughout the production. By the time you caught up, he was prepping for a scene with the leading lady, Emma.

“What scene is this?” you asked a production assistant walking by. They shoved a script into your hand. You flipped to the tabbed page and read through the line.

“Fuck…”

“Precisely, my dear.” Michael sidled up to you again. “Do you think Mr. Hiddleston over there has a clause in his contracts, he must have a love scene in his films?”

You cleared your throat. “I wouldn’t know.”

“I know I would have a clause like that if I had an ass like that.” He sipped his tea.

“Michael!” You punched the man for the second time that day. Hardly a record for you.

“I’m just commenting. You can’t tell that is not a magnificent ass.” He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to the other side of the set before you could answer. “Let’s get a better view.”

Your stomach dropped as you saw Tom and Emma standing around in bathrobes. The director came to speak to the both of them and they nodded before slipping under the covers of the bed and handed their robes off. Tom whispered into Emma’s ear and she giggled. You seethed on the inside. Final light checks and the director strolled back to the camera.

“Action!”

Tom rolled on top of Emma and inhaled her before a moment before kissing her with a fervor. You overheard the smacking and dug your nails into the heels of your hands. Tom’s hips rolled underneath the covers and Emma moaned in response.

“I guess we know who the other half of the rumour is.” Michael hummed in your ear before sipping his tea.

You stormed off set leaving Michael in a daze. You ended up in Tom’s trailer, seething. You spied a picture of the two of you on a cork board by Tom’s bed. It was the two of you smiling out at a local pub. The entire cast and crew went out that night. And you and Tom stayed back after everyone else left. You sang off key karaoke and when Tom walked you back to your hotel room; he kissed you goodnight. The next morning you prepared yourself for him to shrugged it off as a drunken mistake when Tom showed up with coffee and croissants, but he asked you to dinner instead.

As tears fell onto your cheeks, the door opened to the trailer. Tom stepped in, back in his bathrobe. You wiped the tears from your face and put on a forced smile.

“Darling? Are you all right?” He grabbed your hands. “Michael said you stormed off set. You’re not sick are you?” His brow pinched in worry.

“Just a little sick to my stomach.” you snapped back.

“I’ll have someone bring you a ginger ale and some crac…” His voice trailed off as he caught your expression. “Oh. Are you mad about Emma?” He hooked his thumb towards the door.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why would be mad at my boyfriend basically having sex with a gorgeous and talented actress?” You spat out the words like a foul taste in your mouth.

Tom smiled. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night.” His joke fell flat as you stared blankly back at him.

“Michael says there’s a rumour you are dating someone on set.”

“Well that’s more than a rumour and you know that.” He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist. You turned your head to avoid his kiss. “Are you jealous of Emma?” Tom smirked.

“No.” you lied.

“You are!” Tom’s eyes widened. “You’re jealous of Emma. It’s acting, darling. You should know that better than anyone, love scenes are part of this job. But it means nothing.”

Your lip trembled, and you sniffled. “It seems so real in the moment. The moans and the…” You broke down sobbing.

Tom hugged you tight against his chest. “Shhh, darling. You are the one I want to be with. And the rest is just bullshit and mirrors.” He cupped your face. “I love you.”

Tom leaned down and for a split second his mouth opened to inhale you before pressing his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and yanked you both down to the bed. Tom settled between your legs, hips pressed against you.

“That’s the first time you have said that.” you panted when the two of you broke contact.

“It is. But I meant every word. I love you. Do you feel the same?” Tom’s eyes glistened as he searched your face for a sign.

“I do.” Your fingers ran along his cheekbones. “I love you too.”

Tom smiled before kissing you again. His tongue slipping into your mouth and you did the same. Your hands ran along his back and tugged at the tie on the bathrobe.

“Thomas, have you seen—” Michael stopped in his tracks at the sight of you and Tom entangled on his bed. “I see that you have. This explains so much.” Michael rocked back on his heels.

Tom turned to stare at Michael. “Not a word.”

Michael gestured, zipping his lips. “Not a peep.”

You sat up. “I mean it, Sheen. If I get wind of a single rumour. I’m coming for you.”

Michael nodded. “I am the soul of discretion.” He thumbed at the door. “I’ll see myself out.”

Once the door latched shut, you and Tom glanced and each other before bursting into laughter.

He pecked your lips before kissing your nose and then forehead. “I need to get back on set. Are we good?”

You nodded. “Yes. I need to get to hair and makeup myself.”

“You are beautiful without it.” Tom smiled back.

“Thank you. And I need to put the fear of God into Mr. Sheen.”

Tom lifted himself off of you, tightening his robe. “An excellent plan. That man is the worst gossip.”

You giggled and kissed Tom one more time. “Meet me here after work?” You teased his chest through the top of the robe.

Tom tugged at the bottom of your shirt. “Do you have any plans?” His lips twitched at the corners into a smile.

“Bring your script. You definitely need more rehearsal time for that love scene.”

“I’m willing to put in the hours if you are.” he teased.

“Well, it’s for the film.”

“Ever the professional.” Tom smirked before kissing you as you walked out the door to hunt down Michael.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine

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connordavidscamera · 4 years ago

Text

Living, Learning, and Filming Ch. 6 | Connor Brashier

A/n: once again rewritten, do I really need to put that in here anymore?

Summary: Some things can’t stay the same.

Warnings: kinda angsty

Word count: 1.6k

***

Week 6

“Venti earl grey tea, two sugars, just the way you like it,” Connor says, setting the cup in front of me while I type away on my keys, trying to finish my economics assignment before we start going through the most recent footage.

“Thank you, you’re an angel.”

“Your angel,” he corrects me.

“Mine?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

“Sure. Sounds fitting, no?”

I hum in response, and look back at my screen. He sits there, fiddling with his phone in hands but never opening it to scroll through anything, just playing with the case, taking it on and off. “You seem bored,” I observe.

“No, not with you. Never with you.”

“I’m almost done, I promise. I just have two more questions.”

“Don't worry about it. Take your time. It’s more time I get to spend with you.”

“You’re cheesy, Brashier.”

“Yeah, well, who’s fault is that?” He questions, tilting his head to the side, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Don’t you go blaming me for your cheesiness. I didn’t put the words in your mouth and tell you to speak them.”

“Y/n?” he says after a couple minutes.

“What?” I look up at him, ignoring the problem in front of me.

“Have I told you today that you look really pretty?”

I bite the inside of my lip, “Shut up.”

“What? It’s true. This color looks good on you,” he mumbles, reaching across the table to play with the sleeve of my light blue sweater.

“Well thank you,” I say after a minute. “That compliment alone could get you extra kisses on the way back to your place.”

“God, how many do I have to give for a repeat of last week?”

I can’t help but blush. “I don’t know, Con. We’ll see.”

“We’ll see?”

I smirk, “If you’re a good boy, yeah, you might get a little something.”

“Fuck,” he takes a sip of his coffee - which he only drinks with sugar and the tiniest splash of milk, I’ve found out. A strange man, this one is. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

“And that’s what makes this fun,” I shrug.

---

“Hey, Brian,” I say as I walk into the apartment behind Connor.

“Hey, y/n.”

“Bri, what did you say you wanted - oh. Hey,” Shawn comes into view and I force a smile. I haven’t seen him since he asked me out.

“Hey,” I say back, Connor throws him a piece sign and a simple nod before taking my hand.

“We’re going to my room to edit, don’t bother us for the next three hours,” he says, walking us away from the boys.

“He means to say please and thank you, just so you know,” I call out as he continues to pull me with him.

“No, I don’t,” he shakes his head.

“Quit being a dick or I’m going home,” I say, which results in laughter from Brian and Shawn.

“Yeah, tell him y/n.” Brian exclaims.

“Fuck off, Brian!” Connor yells, shutting his bedroom door behind us with a huff.

“You okay, pretty boy?” I ask, setting my bag down next to his desk.

His hands find my waist and he sighs, resting his forehead on mine. “Shawn’s here,” he says, a slight edge to his voice.

“Yeah. Is that not okay? I thought you guys were friends.”

“Well, yeah, but.”

“But what?” I push his hair back, out of his face.

“He asked you out, y/n.”

“Okay? I said no. I told you that.”

“I know, it’s just… he asked you out,” he responds again.

“Why is that bothering you so much?”

“Because I,” he stops himself with a shake of his head. “Never mind. I’m just being dumb.”

“Connor, come on. Talk to me.”

“No, it’s nothing. Let’s just get to work, okay? We have so much to edit before Friday. I want to get it done while we can.”

I sigh but nod, deciding not to push, “Okay, sure.”

We edit for a while, stopping here and there for a drink or to rest our eyes from all the straining we’re doing staring at the small screen for so long. “Where’d you get this necklace?” I ask, playing with the small palm tree adorning his neck, turning my head to get a better look.

“Palm tree crew. Why?”

I shrug, “I like it. It’s very fitting for you, Mr. Laguna Beach.”

He chuckles, “Thanks.” He takes my hand and pulls me closer, into his lap. “Kisses?”

I hum, placing my hands on his shoulders to keep my balance, “We have to get back to work.”

“One kiss won’t kill us, right?”

“Connor…” I shake my head. I don’t know why I’m doing it, pushing him away. I don’t want to. Because let’s face it, last week, in my room? That was one of the best days of my life. So can someone tell me why I’m trying not to be with him that way again?

“Okay, okay. Later?” he asks, pressing his lips into my shoulder, and then on the underside of my jaw. I hum. He’s ruining me completely. He’s ruining me and I’m getting attached.

“I know the effect I have on people. I’m pretty sure you’ll fall for me by the time this is over.”

Fuck him for being right.

“If this is a game, you should know that I never lose.”

It’s a game. A game. It’s not real.

“How funny. I don’t either.”

I whine as I pull away. “I should get home.”

“What? Why?” he reaches for me while I start to remove myself from him.

“I just have a lot of homework to do. I have a test on Thursday, I really should study for it.”

“Study here,” he tries to reason, but I shake my head and start putting my stuff in my bag.

“I can’t. I don’t have my notes.”

“Y/n, what’s going on? Talk to me, baby.”

“Please,” I sigh. “Don’t call me that. Can I please, please just go home?” I throw my bag over my shoulder.

His eyebrows furrow, but he nods anyway. “Okay. Yeah. But are we okay?”

“We’re fine.”

“Then why won’t you kiss me?” I question.

I sigh, “Can we not do this right now? I just don’t feel like being super affectionate right now.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

I ignore his words and open his bedroom door.

“Y/n. What’s wrong? Did I do something? Because if I did, then I’m sorry.”

“No, Connor, you didn’t do anything.”

“Did I say something?” And when I don’t answer, he has his. “What did I say?” He asks, both of us seemingly ignoring the two boys sitting on the couch getting a free show. “Baby, please.”

“Stop calling me that,” I groan.

“Why? That’s you. That’s your name! You’re my baby. That’s who you’ve always been. I don’t get it. What’s happening right now?”

“The name doesn’t mean anything, this doesn’t mean anything because this is all fake!” I burst.

He takes a step back, “What?”

“You made it very clear from the beginning that this was a game. I was stupid to agree to this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t lose,” I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s what you told me, right? So what? You’ve been waiting for me to fall first? Is that it? What do you get out of it? What’s the point of having someone fall for you if you’re not gonna fall too? What is the point of all this? Just some stupid grade, because I’d honestly rather fail!”

“You think I’m not falling for you? You think I haven’t been since the first time we met? You think I memorized your Starbucks order, or went to pick you up from a party when a guy was a little too handsy, or let you steal half of my closet, or told you some of the most intimate details of my life because I wasn’t in love with you? I wouldn’t do that for anyone else. I wouldn’t and you know why? Because I’m fucking in love with you.” he runs his hands through his messy hair. “There. I said it. Are you happy? I’m in love with you and I don’t know how to handle it, but I know that I don’t want to. I want to feel this for as long as I possibly can.”

I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you.

I never lose.

Game. Game. Game.

I bite my tongue. Y/n don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. “You’re not in love with me.” You said it. Of course you fucking did.

“How the fuck do you know? Did you not hear a word I just said to you?”

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

“Because I haven’t lied to you! I haven’t thought about anything else but you since I met you. And especially not since last week. Jesus, I could never think about anything else after that.”

“Connor.”

“I’m in love with you.”

I shut my eyes tight and exhale deeply, “Stop saying that.”

“No! I can’t. I won’t. Not until you tell me that you’re not in love with me too.”

I sigh, running my hands over my face. I can’t tell him. I can’t do this. Not now. “I can’t do this right now, Connor.”

“And when do you think you’ll be able to? Because whether you like it or not, I am in love with you and we still have six weeks to do this project.”

“I know,” I mumble, looking down at my shoes.

“You know,” he repeats. “God, I’m so fucking stupid.”

“No, Con-”

“It’s fine. I’ll take you home. Come on.”

“Connor, wait.” I want to tell him. I do, but I -

“I am waiting. And I will be until you’re ready.”

I’m not ready yet.

***

I hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

Permanent tag: @soyalimoncada-blog @magcon7280 @homeofpoetry @fallinallincurls @goldenflickerx @myyohmyuohmyy @harry-hollands @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @baroness-alison @lostinmendess @linanilssonfurberg @luvluvxx @mariamuses @shawnieeboyy @divinginfearlessly @mendesficsxbombay @shawnsthighs @zaahidahhh @adelaidestreets @shawnandconnor @shawnsblue @turtoix @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s @gangofhoes @verlaneswiftie13

#connor brashier #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb #living learning and filming

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ineloqueent · 4 years ago

Text

Starstruck: Part 13

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 13 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 12 / Part 14

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.

Warnings: swearing, angst (no, this is not what i was on about a couple of weeks ago)

Historical Inaccuracies:

Brian paused his Ph.D. in 1974, not 1975

I have no idea under what circumstances Queen met John Reid, or when exactly it was decided for him to manage them :)

Word Count: 4.9k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“For god’s sake, Freddie,” Roger hissed, “don’t wake them!”

“You’re the one who’s going to wake them, if you don’t shut up with that shrilly voice of yours.”

Roger gave an indignant cry, but I pressed a finger to his lips. “Shush, darling.”

He pushed my hand away, walking off, before I pulled him back, forcing him to look at the scene before us.

The dappled morning sunlight flooded through the unclosed curtains of the studio windows, washed over the two people who lay in each other’s arms at the foot of the sofa. Whether they slept there because they hadn’t made it to the sofa, or because they hadn’t meant to sleep at all was not outwardly obvious. Considering they were both still dressed, and considering the fact that Brian— the insomniac!— was asleep, the last was probably true.

“Should we not just leave them..?” But I tugged on his sleeve. He sighed, “What.”

“When was the last time you saw Brian sleeping?” I said.

Roger made a noise of amusement. “I try not to make a habit of watching my bandmates while they sleep, Fred.”

I rolled my eyes. “Roger, really. He sleeps less than three hours every night, and even then, we couldn’t have had a conversation in front of him without him waking up. But look at him now.” I gestured to Brian’s sleeping form.

He lay on the floor with his arms drawn around Y/N, his embrace protective, and his breaths deep and slow, while she was curled into his chest, her legs tangled with his. His chin rested on the top of her head, and as he shifted in his slumber, she nestled closer to him, her fingers clutching the material of his shirt.

Roger shook his head slowly. “He doesn’t sleep, he never sleeps. But he’s sleeping now.”

I smiled. “He is.” I threw an arm around Roger’s shoulders and pulled him from the room, leaving the two lovers to their much needed rest. “Oh, Rog,” I hugged him to my side in excitement. “I knew she’d be good for him!”

Roger laughed. “You always know, Freddie.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You awoke to an assault of sunlight on your eyes, and groaned at the thought of it being morning already.

You had the feeling that you hadn’t slept for many hours, but all the same, you knew you’d dreamt something. You couldn’t remember what it was you’d dreamt, only that it had been strange. And beautiful. Something about walking in starlight, across clouds, holding the hand of somebody tall. Someone as beautiful as the stars.

With a wince, you realised that you must have dreamt of Brian. It was just what you needed, for him to invade your dreams as well as your waking thoughts. If you told him of your dream, though, you thought with a little laugh, he’d probably apologise for trespassing.

You sighed and pressed your face into your bedsheets, breathing in the familiar comforts of soap and fresh air and brewed coffee and books and… and…

What..? Lilies?

You flexed your fingers, only to give a start when the surface beneath them moved.

You opened your eyes. Just as Brian opened his.

You inhaled sharply.

You’d been asleep against Brian’s chest.

Granted, his skin was not bare, and neither was yours, so in the very least it was a forgivable offence. But it was an offence all the same, wasn’t it?

His arms were around you, and you didn’t want him to let go of you, so, selfishly, you did not move.

He reached up to rub his eyes, and you remained motionless against his chest, at once both reluctant to move and yet trying desperately to figure out how it was you were going to talk your way out of this situation.

His hands left his eyes, and without anywhere else to put them, he returned them tentatively to where they had rested on the small of your back.

A shiver ran through you.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice low in his throat, and achingly gentle to your ears. You dared to imagine that this was what he would sound like every early morning, sleepy and unaware of the world around him, direly lovely in all his softened beauty— half-lidded eyes, rosy lips chapped with disuse, his curly hair falling about his face in an unruly, untamed manner.

“Good morning,” you whispered back, unable to take your eyes off of his, hyper-aware of the rise and fall of his chest and the hum of his pulse beneath your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” said Brian, blinking in the brightness of the morning sun. “I can’t imagine you’ve slept well, atop this pile of skin and bones,” he chuckled. “I must have just fallen asleep.”

He still wasn’t quite awake, and nor were you, which was likely why the significance of this event didn’t occur to either of you for a moment.

Then your heart gave a little leap. Brian the insomniac…

“Bri, you fell asleep!”

“Yes? I fell asleep…” He frowned. Then his eyes widened. “I fell asleep?!”

He sat up at once, and you went with him as he laughed happily, hugging you to him.

“I can’t—” he stuttered into your hair, “I can’t believe it— I must have slept for hours!”

“Insomniac my arse,” you said with a scoff. “I woke up before you did!”

You snapped your mouth closed, realising how that must have sounded; you’d realised where you were and had continued to lie in his arms, as though you had a right to. Your cheeks flushed, but Brian didn’t notice.

He shook his head. “I am, I really am. I didn’t lie to you.” He glanced at his watch, and he was still holding you close, but this he didn’t seem to notice either. Or, if he did notice, it didn’t bother him. “And I’m not lying to you when I tell you, that was the most I’ve slept in weeks.” He smiled down at you, and you could do naught but gaze back up in response. “Guess you’ll just never have to leave me, Y/N.”

You snorted. “Is that a challenge? Because I’m not sure it can be done.”

“Oh sod off,” he pouted.

But you grinned. “Never.”

“Never?” he asked, the word made tender by the slope of his lips.

“I’ll never leave you.”

Something changed in his features, some subtle thing, you fancied. Perhaps the light in his eyes grew a little brighter, or his cheeks grew a little rosier, or his face moved a little closer to yours.

“Y/N,” Brian began slowly, “there’s something I have to tell you, and I hope you won’t think any less of me for it, but I… I’m—”

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Deacy.

Brian leapt away from you as though your skin were on fire.

It was, a little. But only where he’d been touching you.

“John!” Brian said in surprise. He hastily pulled his legs to him and stood up, swaying slightly, so that he rather resembled Bambi on ice.

“Shh,” Deacy hummed, and you realised that he was carrying a bundle in his arms. A very small, human-sized bundle. “Can’t afford to wake him, now that Veronica’s finally asleep, you know.”

“Oh, Deacy,” you said. You made your way over to where he and Brian were now standing by the piano, absently folding Brian’s jacket over your arm.

“So this is him… her?” Brian whispered, peering at the tiny face that was snuggled between the blanket.

“Him. Veronica gave birth late last night.” John’s voice had taken on a warm, soft quality, similar to how Brian spoke when he was around animals. You supposed it was a voice of affection, reserved only for moments of awe, of unconditional and overflowing love. It made sense; you used the same voice when you spoke of the stars.

“Which reminds me,” Deacy rocked the child in his arms, “happy birthday, Brian.”

Brian smiled. “Thanks. Shame the little one wasn’t born just a few hours later. We could have shared birthdays.”

Deacy lifted his shoulders in a light shrug. “Oh well. Now you get to keep your special day for being even bossier than usual.”

You laughed while Brian muttered, “You have to be nice to me. It’s my birthday.”

“See what I mean?” Deacy said. “Anyway. You should go to the garden. Freddie and Roger have something for you, from the three of us.”

“Y/N, you didn’t chip in?” Brian teased.

“For the last time, how was I supposed to know?!”

“It’s also from Y/N, now,” John said, “seeing as somebody neglected to tell her that you were turning twenty-seven today.”

“Why does everyone keep repeating that number?” Brian grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “I know I’m getting older, there’s no need to remind me.”

“Shush,” you gave him his jacket and a push toward the door, and Brian gave a little yelp of outrage. “The garden awaits, my liege.”

“You’re not coming?”

“Later,” Deacy responded for you. “Y/N and I are just going to take a walk to the kitchen.”

“We are?” you asked. You’d have liked to stay with Brian, to have his gaze rush across you every now and then, to see a small smile lingering on his lips when he looked at you. It was one of the best feelings in the world, to be looked at by Brian. Despite his tendency to daydream and just generally be far away, when he talked with you, he always surrendered his attention completely to you. He bled sincerity like a lifeblood, and you had never before met anyone like that.

“Yes.”

“Um, okay. See you later, Bri?” you wondered aloud.

There again was that little twinkle betwixt the hazel and green of his eyes, and your heart fluttered. If only he could see just what he did to you.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He disappeared out into the sunlit morning.

His jacket was still in your arms, and took a step to go after him, but Deacy touched your hand.

“Later.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“Why are we here, Deacy?”

“To have a civil conversation,” he answered simply. “And for you to get me a cup of tea because I got absolutely no sleep last night.”

You narrowed your eyes before remembering that he’d spent the last many hours at a hospital. “Fair enough.”

Deacy sat down in a kitchen chair with a little sigh. He had purple shadows beneath his eyes that curled like smoke, and his shoulders sagged and his hair deserved the care of a brush, but he still had that look of permanent sunshine about his features, as if his body was tired, but his soul could have danced about the room.

He was cooing softly to the baby, and he was truly the picture of a doting parent; he had never looked more at home than he did with a child held gently in his arms.

“What’s his name?” you said as you set to making a cup of tea for John, and one for yourself.

John smiled down at the bundle, parting the swath of material to brush his fingers against the baby’s cheek. “Robert. Robert Deacon.”

You smiled as well, regarding John and Robert in their little bubble of father-and-son.

You allowed your thoughts to wander as you bustled about the kitchen, feeling unusually awake and generally quite happy.

The kettle had boiled and you’d begun steeping tea infusers in the two cups you’d taken from the kitchen cupboard. Now, you found yourself humming as you stirred Deacy’s tea with one sugar, and your own sugarless brew.

“What’s that you’re singing?” Deacy asked. “‘White Queen’?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Quite a sad song, for the mood you’re in.”

You shrugged, “Good song.” You continued stirring the two cups of tea as the corner of Deacy’s mouth quirked up.

“You’re biased, Y/N, and you’ve been stirring that tea for the past three minutes.”

“What?” you said. “Oh!” He was right. Some of your tea had even sloshed onto the kitchen counter. Hurriedly, you wiped away the offending tea with a cloth, then brought Deacy his cup, taking a seat next to him. You sipped your tea quietly until John interrupted politely,

“Sorry, Y/N, would you mind holding Robert a bit? I don’t want to go put him down and risk waking Ronnie.”

“Oh, of course,” you held out your arms and Deacy showed you how to properly hold a baby, in case you didn’t know.

You peered down at the little being in your hold, and you’d never seen anyone so small. A little life, who knew yet nothing about being alive, and still had everything to learn and everything to discover. The whole world awaited him.

You touched a gentle fingertip to Robert’s little nose, and when the boy’s eyelashes fluttered you could see why John was entirely sappy over his son.

“We need to talk about Brian.”

Your shoulders tensed.

“Why?” you mustered nonchalantly.

“Because, to use your own words, you’re quite starstruck these days.”

“Haven’t I always been,” you murmured.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“Luckily for me, I heard you the first time. I just wanted to confirm my suspicions,” John sniffed, drinking his tea.

“Let’s talk about how you can’t seem to write a song for the album,” you countered, perhaps a little harshly. But you were desperate to get off the topic of Brian, before it began. Else it would drive you mad.

It seemed to work.

Deacy leaned his elbows on the dining table and put his head in his hands, successfully distracted. “I don’t know, I just, I have no ideas, and Freddie’s off writing these musical masterpieces, and Brian’s got his… three-and-a-half, and Roger’s got that silly car song of his, and I’ve just… I’ve got nothing.”

“Write what you know,” you said.

“We can’t all be Mark Twain,” Deacy mumbled into his hands. “And how do I know what I know?”

You shifted Robert in your grasp, pleasantly surprised that he had yet to take up crying, despite the stream of conversation around him. “Well, what’s constant in your life?”

Deacy straightened up, shaking his head. He reached out a hand to hold Robert’s tiny fingers in his grasp. “I don’t know. Nothing, right now. It’s never been like this before,” he breathed. “I joined Queen to have a bit of a hobby, really, but then we wrote albums and went touring, and people started to know us, and now we’re writing a fourth album, and Freddie says we’ve already got the audience for it in the bag. And now there’s this— there’s Robert— and I’ve never…” He trailed off, shaking his head again. He sighed. Then, a new energy burst forth in him as he said, “Veronica. For as long as I can remember, for as long as it’s mattered, I’ve had Veronica. She’s my best friend.”

You smiled. “Then write about her, Deacy.”

John seemed almost taken aback that he hadn’t thought about this in detail before. “You know, I’ve just had an idea.”

“Brilliant!” you said.

“Hang on to Robert a second, will you? I’ve just got to fetch something—” Deacy was up and out of the room before you could object.

“I— okay then.”

You frowned, remembering the responsibility in your arms. You hoped he wouldn’t wake up, because then you would have no idea what to do.

You resolved to sit utterly still and silent until John returned, which would hopefully be sooner rather than later.

But the next person to enter the room wasn’t Deacy; it was Brian and Freddie and Roger.

“Oh, good morning, sleepyhead,” said Freddie, to which Roger smirked and Brian looked embarrassed.

“I thought you had to wait nine months for one of those,” Roger inclined his head in the direction of baby Robert.

Your mouth fell open.

“Roger darling, they only fell asleep together, they did not sleep together,” Freddie said. “Do you not know anything about the human body?”

Brian stared at his feet throughout this exchange, red as a strawberry and undoubtedly wishing he was far, far away from this place.

“Uh, how… how do you know about, um, that?” you asked timidly, thinking you were probably about as red in the face as Bri.

Freddie waved a hand. “Oh, Brian didn’t kiss and tell—”

“There’s nothing to tell!” Brian exclaimed.

“Look at them,” said Roger, gesturing to you and then Brian. “They’re like ten years old, there’s no way they’ve kissed.”

“Twenty-seven, now,” Brian muttered, “as you lovely people keep so faithfully reminding me.”

You, on the other hand, were too flustered to speak. Were your harboured affections for Brian so painfully obvious? And was he really so embarrassed at the prospect of kissing you that he was moved to shouting in denial?

That was when you knew for certain that there was nothing here, there. Brian did not want from you what you wanted from him, and though that was perfectly fair, you still felt like you’d been kicked in the abdomen, whilst already wounded by a heavy sword.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, “I’ve just got to go out— could— could somebody take the baby for me, please…”

“Where are the parents of that poor child, anyway?” tutted Freddie, looking like his greatest fear in the world was presently to hold Robert.

“Rog?” you asked despairingly.

“Ah, no, sweetheart,” he winced. “John might kill me.”

“Here, I’ll take him,” said Brian, ever the hero. “It’s okay, you go get some air.”

How he knew you needed air and not to be somewhere in particular was beyond you, but you said nothing as he slipped his arms beneath your own and took Robert from you.

Roger was staring at Brian peculiarly, but Freddie turned to you.

“Everything okay, darling?” he asked you with a frown.

“Peachy,” you replied, and left before anyone could question you further.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You’d been sitting on the steps that led from the patio to the garden for an hour when Brian joined you.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi.” You tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace.

“May I sit down?”

You looked up at him, the willowy young man with the glittering eyes.

His lips were pressed together and it was obvious that he wouldn’t sit down if you made any sign of being bothered by his presence. But how could Brian’s presence ever bother you when he seemed to you the only kindred spirit you’d ever met?

“Be my guest.”

He sat down beside you, perhaps a little closer than you would have braved if the roles had been reversed. Then again, this morning, you’d awoken in his arms, so a little proximity should not matter to him, even if the air, to you, prickled when he was near.

You stared off across the rolling hills that were saturated in the green of summer, wishing you could think about anybody but the person who sat next to you.

“Do you want to see what you got me for my birthday?” he asked.

You smirked. “Go on, then.”

He placed a hefty book, bound in some sort of reddish-brown material, in his lap.

“What’s that?”

“Scrapbook. Of all my polaroids from this year, apparently.”

“Apparently?” you said.

Brian ran a finger along the spine of the book. “Yeah, well, I’ve got some pictures John and Roger and Freddie don’t know about.”

You blushed. “Oh.” Those kinds of pictures.

Brian barked a laugh. “No, no, not like that, no, just, y’know, like the one… The one I took of you? The one you gave me back?” He winced at his stammering, but you nodded in acknowledgement. “Yeah, no, they… They didn’t know about that one. I didn’t, uh, keep it with the others.” His fingertips tapped the side of his nose as he hung his head, his hair falling down to hide his face.

“Oh?” you said, for lack of other words.

Brian shook his head. “Actually, I have it here,” and to your bafflement, he pulled the photograph, the one of you, from his breast pocket. Then he opened the scrapbook across his knees, to a page toward the back that was only half-filled with pictures. It appeared that the last third or so of the book had been left empty. He tucked the photograph of you beside one of Fredddie and Roger and John grinning in the sunshine of the swimming pool. “They said that I should expect a scrapbook for each of my birthdays, from now on,” Brian explained, smoothing a palm across the page of photos. “This is the book for 1975.”

“And it’s not full?” you said. “I mean, I know the year isn’t over yet, but…”

Brian smiled understandingly. “Yeah, I know what you mean, what adventures could we possibly have this year still that will at all compare to Ridge Farm with you, hey?”

You laughed uneasily at your own slip of arrogance, but Brian shook his head again, his curls rustling. “No,” he said softly. “I know. I can’t think of how anything could compare to this.”

His words touched your heart, and you felt oddly as though he were saying goodbye.

Maybe he was.

“What was it you were going to tell me, this morning?” you whispered, fearing the answer you might receive. “You’ve been trying to tell me something for a while now, haven’t you?”

Brian nodded somberly, fiddling with the bookmark that ran down the centre of the scrapbook.

“What is it?” you prompted gently.

“Well, I…” He paused and gave a sigh. Then he closed the cover of the scrapbook in a decisive manner and turned to you as if he could only make himself say whatever it was if he was forced to look you in the eye. “I’ve made a decision that’s going to quite change the course of my life, I think, and I won’t know if it is a good decision or a bad one until I’ve seen it through.”

A sinking sensation stirred in you.

Brian took a deep breath. “I’ve made the decision to pull out of uni.”

And the air was knocked from your lungs. “What?”

“Reid’s booked us a tour following the release of this next album. There’s no way I can keep this up, this— this running back and forth between work and school.”

“But you’re brilliant, Brian. You’re top of our class.”

“Not quite brilliant, thank you, but yes, I know.”

You couldn’t contain your disbelief. Mostly, it was selfish, knowing that Brian— and not only Brian, but Freddie and Roger and Deacy too— would leave you for a very long time as soon as the summer was over. And if Heather’s staying at Ridge Farm with the lot of you was any indication, she’d be leaving with them, with Queen. You’d be alone in London, once more. Everything would go back to being what it had once been, cold and dreary and lonely and uncertain, and you didn’t know if you could handle that.

“But— but— I don’t—” You stopped because the words weren’t coming out the way you wanted them to. Then you tried again. “What about astrophysics? That could be your career too.”

Brian just about flinched, and you knew as soon as you’d said it that it was the worst thing you could have said.

You’d said what his father has said.

“No, I mean, what about the stars?” you said. “You’re in love with them, you wouldn’t— you can’t—” You were avoiding saying what it was you knew deep down you wanted to say. That you wanted him to stay. You needed him to stay.

But Brian took your hands in his grasp, and your breath faltered completely.

He was so close to you, and you were afraid he should hear the raucous beating of your heart.

His gentle exhale fanned across your face, and you wondered how it was that he could breathe so deeply when you could only manage a few strangled gasps, shuddering breaths that rattled your heart and your hands where they rested in his.

Your hands.

Your skin tingled where he touched you, it always did. But what of him? Did he feel anything when you touched him? A burst of emotions that left him gasping for breath and tingling? Or was this to remain one-sided, a fire that burned above the ice but never truly melted it..?

Brian didn’t blink, and you didn’t breathe. The only part of you that had not ceased to function, it seemed, was your heart; your pulse drummed in overtime.

“Look, Y/N, I know I can’t ask this of you, and god knows I don’t want to, because I know you’ll be asking yourself the same questions you’ve just asked me, but,” he squeezed your hands, “I have to ask… Because we’re not the same without you. Not me, not Freddie, not Roger— hell, just this morning, you’ve inspired even Deacy to come out of his shell and write us a song.”

You closed your eyes. “Brian…”

“No, shush,” he said gently. “Let me be the one to talk, for once. For once, don’t give me the perfect excuse to shut up and listen to you talk instead, because I’d do that forever if I could.”

His eyes searched yours with a gaze so sharp your heart skittered.

“I want you to come with us,” he said, and the sinking feeling in your stomach hurtled to a stop, having reached the bottom of a terrible pit. “I want you to come with us on tour.”

You couldn’t.

You couldn’t go with them, however much you wanted to.

And oh, how you wanted to.

You pulled your hands from his, knowing that the touch of his skin might very well be enough to change your resolute mind.

But you couldn’t let it. You owed as much to your own father. Your parents had always wanted better for you than a housewife running a pub, and a middle-aged man still trying to build a business from the ground up in a hopeless market. You couldn’t let them down. Your first loyalty lay to them.

“I’m sorry, Bri,” you breathed. “I can’t. I can’t, I’m sorry.”

Brian’s exhale was unsteady. “I know,” he said. “I knew. I knew before I asked you, but damn it,” he kicked his heel against the step in a spark of that legendary temper, “I had to ask.”

“Brian, I’m so sorry, I really am…” The promise of tears stung your eyes as your chest tightened.

Brian got up, the book under his arm, and you let out something like a sob as he turned to go. He was tearing you apart.

He clenched his fist at his side. “I just want you to know,” he said, and his jaw tensed, “that if it wasn’t for you, Reid never would have made the decision to manage us.”

“What?” you mustered, though your vision was blurry and you couldn’t keep your hands from shaking.

“No one told you, did they?” At your blank expression, he went on. “About playing at the Union Pub, that night back in February… You were the messenger to Freddie. Roger never left the house until thirty minutes before the gig, and Freddie told Deacy and me about the show. We wouldn’t have played there if it wasn’t for you, and that was the night that Reid happened to be in town, visiting some nephew at Imperial. If we hadn’t played that night, we’d never have got into contact with him. That bastard Norman Sheffield would have bled us dry, and we would’ve had no new manager to take us on. If it wasn’t for you, we’d not have been writing an album right now, let alone have had a place to do so.”

You were speechless. Such a small thing, to drop by Kensington Market and pass on Roger’s message to Freddie— and yet.

“So,” Brian loosed a breath, “I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, but I do,” he said fiercely. “And so I have even less right to ask you to come with us. But I wanted you to know. And I wanted to ask.” He sighed, and his eyes seemed older than time; he was farther from you than the deepest reaches of the unending universe. He let out a mirthless laugh, and not even the echoes of humour existed in the sound. “That’s the last time I ever do anything for myself.”

He smiled sadly, and you found that you couldn’t breathe.

“Brian—”

“Please don’t,” he said. “Please don’t say anything. I owe you, and the very last thing you owe me is an apology.”

“You and I don’t want the same thing,” you murmured, in place of the apology you so desperately wanted to utter again.

Brian looked as though he was falling apart, and nearly as much as you were.

“No, I suppose not,” he said. “But I thought we did.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: okay but the picture is me imagining what sleepy bri would look like mmm

taglist: @melting-obelisks @sgt-stardust-killerqueen @hgmercury39 @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz @perriwiinkle @iamsuperconfusedallthetime @im-an-adult-ish @ilikebigstucks @doing-albri @killer-queen-87 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @archaicmusings @cloudyyspace @annina-96 @themarchoftherainbowqueen @onlyyoudarling @annajolras

crossed out tags would not take; i’m sorry!

Masterpost / Part 12 / Part 14

#tina's writing #starstruck #brian may #brian may x reader #brian may x y/n #brian may x you #queen #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #queen fanfiction #1975 #1970s #fic

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impala-dreamer · 4 years ago

Text

When You Break The Rules

SPN FanFic

~A slip of the tongue at a panel lands you in some hot water with Mr. Collins backstage.~

Misha x Reader, Brianna, Kim, Ruth, Rich, OFC

2,079 Words

Warnings: NSFW! Dom!Misha, Sub!Reader. Spanking. Smut. Awesome.

A/N: This was a commission piece requested by a top-tier patreon. I really hope you all enjoy!

My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

Another weekend, another convention, another panel with the girls.

You sat on stage, ankles crossed like a lady, knees peeking out from beneath the hem of your sundress. It was hot, too hot for jeans, especially under those stage lights, and besides, your lover liked to see your calves.

No one else seemed to notice or care about your unusually fancy attire, too focused on Brianna and Kim having a fiery debate over which Winchester would have been with which sheriff. That was just fine with you, it was entertaining to watch them bicker even though you knew they’d give the standard answer: Jody and Sam, Donna and Dean.

To your left, Ruthie cleared her throat into the microphone and raised a heavily painted brow. “Excuse me! Why does no one ever ask who Rowena should be with?”

Her angry pout made the audience laugh and Kim jumped all over it.

“Well, who would Rowena be with?” she laughed as she turned towards Ruthie.

Bright red lips smiled coyly. “Samuel, obviously.”

Kim’s face dropped with annoyance and she crossed her arms, popping a denim-clad hip. “Oh, now we have to fight.”

Instantly, Brianna was at Kim’s side, comically holding her back as Kim lunged forward, growling at Ruthie. The tiny redhead looked to you for help but you shrugged and threw your hands up, laughing into the mic.

“Hell no, I’m not getting involved here. No way!”

That was the exact wrong move, for the dueling trio turned to you, ready to attack. Thankfully, Brianna was able to wrangle Kim in, and the fiasco was averted.

“Moving on…” Brianna sang, flamboyantly waving at the next fan in line waiting to speak. “Hey. How are ya, who are ya, where ya from?”

The tiny purple-haired teen looked up at Bri in awe, nearly drooling at the sight of her bare midriff. “I-I’m Lisa-”

“Hi, Lisa! Nice to meet you!” Brianna smiled brightly and the girl nearly fainted. “You got a question for me?”

Lisa nodded shyly and swallowed down a wave of fear. “It’s for everyone. If you could have kissed anyone on the show, who would you want to kiss?”

Kim hummed into her mic. “Oh…”

Ruthie grinned devilishly and tapped her cheek, deep in thought.

You shivered and tried to hide your nerves. This was the exact sort of question you hated answering. There was never a right answer.

Brianna and Kim looked at each other and smirked, answering in unison. “Jensen.”

The crowd cheered, seeming to agree.

Ruthie knocked her head side to side, unable to decide. “Well, you know, I did rather enjoy smooching Richard…”

“Did someone say my name?”

The Trickster himself appeared from behind the curtain, summoned by Ruthie’s answer. You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that time was up and you wouldn’t have to answer.

You were wrong once again.

“Y/N, what’s your answer?” Richard asked, rounding the line of chairs to stand next to Ruthie and drape an arm around his friend. “You’re awful quiet.”

Embarrassment churned in your gut. “Oh, I don’t know guys, I can’t choose. Everyone’s so beautiful.”

Before anyone could move on and end the panel, a fan in the front row shouted up to the stage. “You got to kiss Sam!”

Which, was true. The character you played on Supernatural had, in fact, made out a bit with Sam Winchester in the episode right before Dean accidentally killed you. Still, it wasn’t really an answer you could give.

“That’s true…” you agreed, praying Richard and the band would cut you off and the universe would have some mercy.

“And?” Kim pressed.

“And… Sam’s a… pretty good kisser,” you said, much to everyone’s joy.

Kim couldn’t let it rest and leaned in. “So, Jared is too?”

Heat filled your face and you bit your lip, sure that you were going to get in trouble either way.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smirking at the crowd. “He sure is.”

To say that the auditorium went crazy was an understatement, but all you could hear was your heart pounding; all you could see was one face out in the back of the theater, one face blazing with anger.

Misha grabbed your arm as you left the stage, practically dragging you off of your feet before you knew what was happening. You knew better than to question it, so you let him pull you down the service hallway and into a dark conference room.

Your pulse was racing when he let go of you, shoving you into the room before slamming the door shut behind him.

He turned, face contorted in special anger; blue eyes narrow, right brow raised.

“What did you think you were doing up there?” he asked, voice like gravel as he flipped on the light.

Swallowing hard, you batted your eyes and tried to give your most innocent smile. “What do you mean?”

Misha wasn’t buying it. He stormed forward, chin down, eyes tight on yours. “You. Talking about kissing Jared. I saw you.”

Despite his expression, you laughed. “Misha- I was just- that was just a question. I was only doing my job. Ya know, entertaining the masses.”

His upper lip twitched as he grit his teeth and growled. “Your job is not to embarrass me. Your job is to be mine.”

Anticipation and nervous energy swirled in your belly. “I’m...I’m sorry.”

He rushed at you in a blur, big hand curling around your back to grab a fistful of hair. “Not yet,” he assured you, teeth gnashing with jealous rage. “But you will be.” He let you go forcefully and you stumbled backward a step, knocking into the long oval conference table. Misha rolled up the sleeves of his blue sweater. “Turn around, girl. You need to be punished.”

A lustful haze overtook you and your eyes rolled just a bit. “Y-yes, Sir.” Before the words faded in the air, you had spun around and planted your palms on the polished oak table. Your bend wasn’t deep enough and Misha placed his big hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward until your tits smashed against the table.

Your breath fogged the shining tabletop as Misha ran his hand down your spine, all the way until he hit the hem of your dress.

“You wearing panties today, little girl?” he asked; tips of his fingers ghosting the back of your thigh.

Your voice shook when you answered. “Yes, Sir. I had to. I-I was on stage.”

Misha shook his head in disappointment. “Too bad.” His hand curled around the skirt and yanked it up, exposing your panties and lower back to the room. “I hope you didn’t like these.”

Two firm rips later, your underwear lay in shreds on the ugly navy carpet. Cool air hit your pussy and you realized then just how wet he was making you. A moan left your lips before you could catch it.

“Oh, my little slut likes this?” Misha asked, dragging his right hand down over the globe of your ass.

“Yes, Sir,” you whispered in reply. “Feels good.”

“Does it?”

A crack filled the silence of the room as Misha spanked you, nice and hard, on the right. You gasped as the tingling pain spread across your cheek and sank deep inside, your flesh absorbing the heat of it.

“Yes,” you moaned, knowing that not answering him would lead to a worse punishment.

“Good.”

Another slap, harder this time, burned his handprint into your skin. You bit your lip to keep from crying as his hand came down in the exact same spot once more.

“Bad girls break the rules,” he reminded you, continually whacking your tender flesh. “When you break the rules, you get punished.” Each snap of his wrist made your heart skip and your eyes roll; your body was shaking under his reprimand, leaking with arousal. “You don’t want to be a bad girl, do you?”

“No, S-s-sir!” It was hard to think, hard to speak, hard to do anything but take each blow and drag it deep inside, let your body swallow it down. Your cunt was aching, dripping, begging for release, but the hits kept coming.

Side to side he moved, making sure to cover the most sensitive spots, knowing you would feel him the rest of the day. Every time you sat down, any time someone bumped into you, there would be a silent hiss and your eyes would grow wider; remembering your punishment, remembering his hands on you.

“Are you ready to be my good girl again, Y/N?” Another crack on the left and a soothing rub.

“Yes, Sir! Please! Wanna be your good girl!”

Misha leaned down, covering your back and pressing you into the hard table. “I’m not so sure.” His teeth caught your ear and you whimpered pitifully.

“I-I’m sorry,” you prayed, barely able to breathe with his weight on top of you.

“Are you?”

A deep shiver ran through you as his voice filled your mind. “Yes!” you pleaded. “Yes, I’m so sorry. I’m yours. Always. No more Jared talk I swear!”

“Then cum.”

“What?”

Misha stood up and you gasped as the air filled your lungs. “If you’re so sorry, then cum,” he said again. “Right now. I want to feel it.”

As you took your next breath, Misha shoved his hand between your thighs and pressed his palm up against your cunt, pressing hard. Every muscle was tense and you could feel each line of his hand against your wetness, feel the heat from his skin. With his free hand, he slapped your ass once more and you came, feeling the balloon pop instantly. It was small but the stream of pleasure rolled through you, making your shoulders shake and your jaw drop in a heavy pant.

Satisfied by the flood against his hand, Misha grinned and tapped your hip. “Good. Now, spread your legs nice and wide.”

Your feet moved without a thought, shuffling over the carpet to spread yourself open for him.

Misha dropped his zipper and let his jeans hang around his thighs. “There’s my girl.” He was inside before you could blink, slamming deep inside your pulsing cunt without an ounce of hesitation. He felt like heaven after the beating, felt so good to be filled up by his familiar heft, but his thighs slapping against your ass burned. He rode you into the table, belt buckle stinging your sore backside; rough denim scratching your aching thighs. It was heaven and hell suddenly, and you couldn’t think for the pleasure building inside again.

Misha came, slamming you hard into the edge of the table, surely bruising your belly. You could feel the press of his firm thighs, the explosion of heat, his heavy breath raining down upon you. He stayed there even as he came down, letting your pussy convulse around him as long as it could.

“Have you learned a lesson, baby girl?” His palm slid up your back as he leaned over you once more.

Dazed and happy, shaking and sleepy, you answered in a rambling string of words that passed no filter, they just were. “Yes, sir. Yes. I promise to behave. Always.”

“Good.” He kissed the nape of your neck and nuzzled in for a brief moment, breathing you in, holding you tight.

Finally, he moved away and you stood up; legs and back aching from the long-held position. “Wow,” you commented with a lazy smile. “That was...wow.” Your hair was a mess, but you did the best you could, brushing it back from your sweaty face.

Misha smiled sweetly as he righted his outfit, taking care to retuck his undershirt and adjust the sleeves of his sweater.

The big clock on the wall gave made you startle. “Shit! I have like ten mins before photos. I gotta go get cleaned up.” You shivered to clear your head and then took a step towards the door, ready to sneak out and find a restroom.

Before your second step, Misha’s hand shot out and took hold of your wrist, pulling you back. “No,” he growled. “I want my cum dripping out of you in front of all those fans.” His eyes were filled with the devil and you shuddered at the thought. “I want them all to suspect, to smell it on you. You’re mine.”

You swallowed hard as you stared up at your Sir, nodding in absolute obedient compliance.

“Yes, Sir. Only Yours.”

2020 Forever Tags: @67-chevy-baby @akshi8278 @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface @blondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @defenderrosetyler @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @fandom-princess-forevermore @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

#misha x reader #spn fanfic #smut #one shot #misha collins x reader

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cheshirequeenwithoutaheart · 3 years ago

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what's the story, morning glory?

iron coats the inside of her mouth. it's only slightly less disturbing than the feeling of petals clinging to the back of her teeth, the back of her throat.

the temple of the air spirit is no place to be coughing up petals mangled and bloody; that’s why she’d coughed them outside, black and purple mingling together. one flower for someone too lost in their own self pity and doubt, another for someone lost to the world for centuries.

how many more blooms will start to grow inside, she wonders?

briony pauses in the middle of a room, halfway through stepping over a fallen column, and stares at the statue.

on the one hand, it’s so far removed from what the spirit of air actually looked like that it’s funny (for one thing, he was not that tall, nor was he that...chiselled. gods she almost wants to make a drinking game of it). on the other hand, it’s close enough to what her dear friend looked like that the flowers shift at the back of her throat.

there’s magic in the air, and for so many years she turned her back on places filled with magic (every temple dedicated to every spirit; she turns away and looks at the people who forgot her, but who she forgives where she cannot forgive her kin), but it’s a comfort to her this once; like a hug from a much loved friend.

she wonders, perhaps a little absently, how she’ll wake him up. if the sound of columns falling in his temple wouldn’t do the trick, the voice of an ex-spirit surely won’t either.

but then she never was an ex-spirit to him, so she’ll just have to make it work.

her throat itches.

no one has spoken the given name of the spirit of air in years, perhaps since he went into his slumber. at least they haven’t in his temple.

fewer still have ever spoken the name he chose for himself.

she stops at the foot of the statue, looks at the face that is only similar to her friend’s face because she knows who it’s meant to be, and speaks.

“caelestis,” she sounds out the word slowly, her voice quiet and rough.

there’s a shift in the air, like something (or someone) is stirring.

...she waits for a moment, but there’s no further indication that anyone heard her. well, apart from a load of dust.

“you can’t expect me to say your name three time, caelestis. i thought you were above that kind of nonsense.” the air stirs again, just slightly, and if briony were the type to see that as him being present, she’d think he was watching in amusement.

she isn’t, but the point is the same.

“caelestis,” she says the word differently, in a sing song voice, and waits.

he doesn’t know how long he spent asleep, dreaming dreams that ran together and had an air of whimsy even he couldn’t connect with.

it’s hard to believe, he knows! he is the air and the wind and all that comes with that, but he much prefers being a playful breeze to a raging gale.

then again, it doesn’t surprise him. those he saw in his dreams were poor shades for the real beings that existed outside of his head. they couldn’t hope to imitate pyrrhos’ lack of talent with words, or kelda and her inability to keep her many hands still, or even darling pen and her collected nature.

distantly, he knows he’s slept for far longer than he originally intended. it wasn’t like he was heading into this long sleep with a set time-plan but, still, he intended to awaken far earlier than whatever year he finds himself in now.

he hopes, whatever this year is like, that his dear friends are still around. he’s missed them, and again, dreams are poor substitutes for the ones you love.

hearing his name spoken had jolted him, if not awake then into awareness. he wants to see if whoever said his name once will say it again.

they do, in a voice that rings with faint amusement and even more faint exasperation. they speak in familiar tones, like an old friend.

he opens his eyes.

mint and pink hair that he knew to be very soft (and hopes it still is), eyes a shade of blue to rival the sky and his own eyes; the black coat is new, but the bow on her chest… that is familiar.

she says his name again, and he smiles brightly like the youth he appears to be.

for who else should awaken him from his slumber, but his darling friend?

in a spring breeze, caelestis appears in the flesh for the first time in… centuries. his temple is a little worse for wear, although that damn statue remains intact (he’s flattered they thought him to be taller than he is, but he much prefers his boyish good looks to the sharp edges and harsh lines they chose to show him with), but that is to be expected and easily fixed.

he doesn’t care about the temple, anyway. all he cares about is the woman standing in front of him with a slight smile on her face.

“celeste,” she breathes out and his smile grows even brighter. to hear his true name from her makes him feel comforted in a way no one else could make that word sound, but there’s something much better about hearing his preferred name.

saying his name is easy, she thinks, especially if it causes him to beam like that. even if it agitates those flowers that bloom inside of her for him.

considering how the flowers reacted to seeing his statue, which still looks so very different from his true form, she doesn’t know how she didn’t see the sudden movement of petals and blood up her throat and into her mouth coming.

that smile changes into a frown of concern when she hunches over, heavy coughs rattling her frame and tainting the air with the smell of iron and…

and flowers.

he surges forward just in time to catch her as she tips forward, crashing into his chest with a lack of grace that worries far more than it amuses, and guides her to lie on the ground with her head against his shoulder.

her hands are stained with blood, her blood, and dark petals cling to the red liquid; he looks over to where she was standing, sees a bundle of flowers in disarray, though whether it was from her stumble forward or from the coughing is hard to say.

celeste looks at her face again. there’s blood on her lips and a few petals clinging to the sides of her mouth. he brushes them away, touch far more delicate than he thinks the old her would have appreciated but.

she’s still smiling, even if it’s a slight one and her eyes are half closed.

“now, who could my darling pen have fallen for in the years i was away? who could have caused those flowers to bloom inside you, pen?” he tries to make his voice light and playful, but his concern can’t be hidden.

“that nickname doesn’t work, you know. briony is my name now,” her voice is soft, calm, peaceful. it’s at odds with the disrupted rhythm of his heart and the fear in his eyes.

“i’ll think of a new nickname later, dearest. after you answer my question.”

“of course you will,” her smile grows ever so slightly, before fading away. “as for the question, it’s-”

a coughing fit interrupts her, flowers forcing their way from her throat to her mouth and out into the open. they fall onto the marble floor with the slightest sound, dark purple petals catching her eye before heavy eyelids force her to stop looking at them.

they catch celeste’s eye too.

“you know, i might have to start hating morning glories if they’re…” he trails off for a moment, she wonders if that pout he used to get when he was thinking hard about something is on his face but she can’t open her eyes, before finishing his sentence, “hurting you.”

celeste looks down at briony, her head now partially turned to face towards him but her eyes heavily shut. she looks almost like a doll; he wishes she didn’t.

“how odd, that you would be coughing up my favorite flowers.”

“it isn’t… odd… if you think…” her voice is so quiet that he’s almost certain he’s missed parts of her words. he stares at the morning glories.

“who are you in love with, dearest bri?” he asks again, tries to keep a teasing smile on his face though she can’t see it.

“who do you think?” she asks in return, her eyes fluttering open. briony stares at him, an eyebrow raised. he admits that teasing her probably wasn’t in his best interests.

“with you coughing up full flowers in my presence, and my favourites at that? why, i almost think you’re in love with little old me.”

he realises, belatedly, that trying to hide the beating in his chest with a teasing smile whilst she’s pressed close enough to feel it isn’t his smartest plan.

“always were too clever for you own good, dear celeste,” she smiles an almost dreamy smile, and closes her eyes again.

“you like that i am clever,” he retorts, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head.

“and if i said i do?”

“i’d say i like that you’re clever too.”

#writing #tsenpha #chara briony #chara caelestis/celeste #occasionally i like to write aus for my wips #this was one of them #there's also backstory for it and that tells you all you need to know abt me as a person i guess

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multisfabulis · 4 years ago

Text

Land’s Trust in Light

Arrival in Thornewind (Chapter 1/6)

Word Count: 4090

Oh, look, a new Corona's Shadow entry that doesn't feature Verreth? That's possible?!

I kid but it honestly feels good to not be writing Verreth for CS for a little bit. CS was never meant to be a Verreth love story, it only ended up like that because I went straight into writing "The Road to Forgiveness Be Damned" after finishing "A Single Ray of Light in a Sea of Darkness" because I simply wanted to write more Ven and I started to regret my decision around the time I wrote the rough version of the third chapter. Obviously, I stuck with that decision to the end but it was throughout that time I had wants to write Verreth and I wrote those as well. However, all the Verreth segments are what I consider to be side stories, which I know may be hard to believe but trust me, because Ven and Ferreth are not the main protagonists of CS. Eric, if anyone remembers him, is. The Verreth segments were only added to the CS series because I didn't want to make a whole new series entirely focused on Verreth and take them out of something they are main characters of.

Does this mean I'm done writing Verreth? For now, yes. Outside of occasional updates to "Only Through Acceptance Will Love Find Us", I wanna focus on both this and other smaller projects, like RLD and fanfics. Just in case anyone's lost hope, the next big project is Verreth-related, with Ferreth taking the protag role a la TRFBD. Let's just say we're finally getting a look at his backstory and a reason as to why he has self-worth issues.

God, it feels great to be writing in Eric's POV again. It's been over 2 years since I finished ASRLSD so I am making the most of this!

Surprisingly enough, there wasn't much change during the transition from rough draft to publication, which actually made this harder to write. I'm so used to there being at least one major change that I got tripped up by this. The only major change here is the addition of descriptors and needed elaboration and those, I feel like, are key to "beautifying" writing so I don't count those.

One last thing is the "flirting" present in here. I honestly don't know if that can be considered flirting because I'm not someone who flirts or is flirted with on a daily basis. I'm pretty much the dense harem anime protagonist so please forgive me for the terrible flirting.

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

Thornewind was gorgeous. Sure, Eric was looking at it from a distance atop Asha, but it made one hell of a good first impression. Thornewind seemed colorful and vibrant and he wanted to explore every last inch of it. He gently kicked Asha’s side and she began walking at a slow, leisurely pace.

Thornewind was a town nestled in the mountains north of Aurora Zenith. The tiny glimpse he saw of it left him awestruck, from its tall, rich buildings packed closely together to its bright windmills scattered across its many open fields. Then there was the sight that awaited him over the ridge, stealing his breath away.

There were tulips that stretched as far as the eye could see. A sea of blue, red, orange, pink, and yellow blossoms swayed in the summery breeze. It was strange how all these tulips were in bloom when Augvesta had just rolled around but he didn’t put much thought into it. Botany was more of Ven’s expertise and she would be positively thrilled upon seeing this.

It was soon after crossing the garden he arrived at the entrance. It surprised him to see how lax security was if they let a complete stranger in without so much as a request for papers. He didn’t mind it, though; it just struck him as odd since no one was allowed entry if they weren’t deemed trustworthy back in his childhood home. He and Asha passed through the threshold and was rendered speechless.

Towering brick buildings loomed over him while a rainbow of others stood further ahead of him. Paths of smooth stone ran in every direction, the opposite of Aurora Zenith’s dirt roads that swept up dust with enough energy behind it. He could hear the tinkling of wind chimes and the fervor of voices all around him. Thornewind certainly had Brinegarde beat in its lively atmosphere.

He hopped off Asha, making sure to keep the reins in a firm grip. Her deep brown eyes met his as he slowly put a hand on her face and stroked. She didn’t flinch, which was a good sign of progress.

“You’re such a good girl, Asha,” he murmured, moving his hand down to stroke her neck. “Let’s find a place for you to rest, hmm?”

It didn’t take long to find a stable. He led her into one of the empty stalls and fed her a couple sugar cubes as a reward for all the hard work she’d done over the past two weeks. The last thing he did was tell the stableman how to care for her during her stay and that he’d be checking up on her daily. Waving goodbye to Asha, it was time to explore Thornewind.

With it being mid-afternoon, it was pleasantly warm as people crowded the streets on their day-to-day routine. The sound of the wind chimes grew louder and the scent of delicious meals made his mouth water in anticipation. Thank god his anxiety wasn’t ruining this for him. He could hardly contain the bounce in his step as he excitedly toured around the busy thoroughfares. It was rare for him to see and visit new places so he wanted to make the most of this trip.

There were two things he noticed. First was that most of the people he saw weren’t humans nor were they elves. Their ears were similar to Ven’s and they had what seemed to be like fangs sticking out from their upper lips. What really threw him off, though, were their sizes. Many of them were easily a foot or so taller than him just from a distance and were definitely well-built. Whatever these people were, they’ve caught his eye and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enticed.

Then there were the stares. He initially thought they were wondering what a human was doing here till he realized it was what he wore. It wasn’t like he was wearing an extravagant suit but he still clearly looked like a noble, or so he assumed. He wasn’t trying to show people up. He was just taught to always dress his best for important events and he considered his reason for being here to be one such.

Now came the realization he was lost. He had become so engrossed in his surroundings, an hour flew by without him noticing. He needed to find the lord of this town and talk with them about the relationship between them and Aurora Zenith. Allies were essential in political affairs, after all. The bad part was, he had no idea on where to start looking.

Well, as much as he hated to, he had to ask someone for directions. It couldn’t be that hard, right? All he’d have to do is go up to a random person, ask them on how to get to the lord’s house, and that’d be it. Simple and easy!

He felt a hand touch his shoulder and heard a voice ask, “Hey, are you okay?”

He let out a startled shriek and turned to face the stranger. There was a man in front of him with his hands up in a conciliatory manner towards him. One of the first things he noticed was just how big he was.

He’d never seen anyone taller than Alek before and it honestly unnerved him. The man had the same pointed ears and fangs as everyone else so he must’ve been one of the not-human, not-elf people. He had dark brown skin, messy brown hair with a small braid that reached his shoulders, and bright green eyes. What was really peculiar about him were the bandages starting from the middle of his arms and ending all the way down to his fingertips. He was definitely hiding something underneath those but Eric could care less about what right now.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down, okay?” the man said in a soothing tone. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I would hope not!” Eric breathed in, placed a hand on his chest, and breathed out. “It’s not every day some random stranger walks up, claps a hand on my shoulder, and asks if I’m okay right in my ear.”

“Well, you seemed troubled so I thought you might’ve needed help,” the man replied, putting his hands down.

Feeling rather embarrassed with himself for that pathetic display, he cleared his throat and asked, “As a matter of fact, I do. Could you please tell me where the lord of this town is, I need to speak with them right away.”

“You wanna talk to Bris?”

“If that’s their name, then yes. I have some important business to discuss with them.”

“He’s not far from here, I can take you to him if you want.”

That would probably be the best course of action. He was never good at memorizing directions and reciting them to himself only confused him more. He had no one to blame but himself for being in this situation to begin with so…

“Sure, that’d be great,” Eric conceded. At least this guy was kind and generous enough to show him the way there.

“All right, let’s make our way over there.” The two men began walking down a street that wasn’t as busy as before. “By the way, my name’s Ferreth.”

“I’m Eric, it’s nice to meet you,” he said, flashing him a friendly smile.

“So what brings someone like you to our fair town of Thornewind?” Ferreth asked. “I thought I’d recognized all our visitors since those don’t come by very often.”

“It’s as I said. I’ve traveled a long way to see Bris in the hopes of discussing important business with him.”

“What kind of business? Are you an important person?”

“I’d say being lord counts as pretty important. I’ve come all the way from Aurora Zenith to see if our two towns could potentially become allies.”

“Oh, wow. I, uh, didn’t think someone as cute as you could be lord.”

He tilted his head in both curiosity and confusion. “I don’t see what my appearance has to do with anything but I can assure you I wasn’t lying.”

“I didn’t think you were. I just wasn’t expecting a man in your position to be so…good-looking.”

“So what were you expecting?”

“You know, somebody the complete opposite. I mean, I’m figuring you’re, like, smart, charismatic, kind, and everything else Bris is like.”

Ah, that’s what was happening here. He had an inkling of it the first time Ferreth mentioned his appearance but now he was sure. Alek had never done it with him and there wasn’t really a need for him to. As flattered as he was by it, his heart was and always will be Alek’s.

Chuckling, he said, “Well, I think my boyfriend would agree with you on some of those things but I’m more modest about them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Ferreth had a defeated smile on his face, gracefully accepting his loss. Eric liked how easygoing he was.

“So what’s your relationship with Bris like?” he asked.

“Oh, me and him are best friends. We’ve known each other since childhood but I’d say we’re more like brothers than friends by this point.”

“Sounds like you get along with him really well.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Bris and I have had our fair share of arguments but what friendship hasn’t? We have each others’ backs and no fight’s ever gonna change that.”

Ferreth had a certain fondness in his voice when he spoke about Bris. It was easy to see the love and devotion he held for Bris and it warmed Eric’s heart. He was admittedly envious of their friendship. He never had any friends as a child aside from Alek and, while Alek’s irreplaceable, he wished he was able to make some back then. At least that seemed to be changing with him befriending Ven during his trip to Brinegarde so maybe he still had a chance to form everlasting relationships.

“Here we are!”

The two stopped before a giant windmill. Dark red brick made up the exterior and the blades turned gently in the breeze, creaking ever so slightly. There were hardly any windows aside from the two in front and there was a wraparound balcony set up just below the wooden roof. Eric didn’t know windmills could be habitable, which made him want to live here if only a little.

“Wow…”

“Let’s go on up, shall we?”

They climbed up the stone steps leading to the front door. It was a tall, dark wooden door stretching up towards the wraparound balcony, with a black, wrought iron ring on the side as its knocker. Before he could think of a script in his head, Ferreth grabbed the ring and hit it against the door a few times.

Almost immediately after, a woman answered. She wasn’t much taller than him, though he figured the top of his head would be just scraping her chin, and the slim blue dress she wore did little to hide her defined muscles. She had porcelain skin, long, wavy rose pink hair flowing down to her waist, and sandy brown eyes, reminding him of the shores of Aurora Zenith’s beaches. She was stunningly beautiful and his throat felt suddenly dry.

“Ah, Ferreth, are you here to see Master Brirsyrun today?” she asked. Her voice sounded soft and airy like a lovely breeze.

“Hey, Aissyl, I’m actually here because my new friend wanted to speak with Bris regarding some important matters, right?” Ferreth put a hand squarely on Eric’s back and pushed him forward slightly.

“Oh, uh, yes!” he spoke quickly. “My name is Eric Travere and I’m the lord of Aurora Zenith. I’m here today because I needed to talk to Brirsyrun about improving the relationship between our two towns.”

“I see. I shall ask Master Brirsyrun if he’ll see you now, please wait a moment.” She closed the door.

That could have gone a little better, he thought as he released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. He heard Ferreth trying to stifle a laugh from beside him and promptly wanted to die. Guess he wasn’t the only one she had that effect on, if this has happened before.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Ferreth asked, pretending like he didn’t know the answer.

“Yes, well, I can’t deny that she’s quite beautiful,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Have you tried anything with her?”

“When I first met her, yeah, and she swiftly turned me down.” He clicked his tongue, as if remembering the memory wasn’t pleasant. “Let’s just say she’s not interested in men like us. Or any man, really.”

Before he could say any more, the woman known as Aissyl opened the door and invited them inside. The room he entered seemed to be what he’d liken to a waiting room or lounge. What little of the walls he saw that weren’t decorated in exquisite murals were painted a warm honey color. There were a couple of cushioned chairs sitting by the small window and a low table set in front of them. He didn’t have time to check out much more before Aissyl led them through an arched threshold into another room he presumed to be Bris’ office.

It wasn’t terribly big but it worked fine for its purpose. Unlike the lounge, the walls were a cerulean blue, similar to the sky at dawn before the sunrise. There were tall bookcases standing on one side of the room and a spiral staircase leading up to the second floor on the other. A leather chair sat behind a pine desk atop a nondescript forest green rug. He figured the unusual empty space in front of the desk was for additional chairs if they had guests over. They must not get many of them if they hadn’t gotten a chair specifically for this room. A man was sitting at the desk when he looked up and Eric believed him to be Bris.

The first thing he noticed was the cream-colored scarf worn around his neck, which he found odd since it was late summer. He looked to have a lean yet muscled body and, when he stood up, seemed to be just shy of Aissyl’s height. He had sun-kissed skin, cropped blond hair, and cloudy gray eyes. A smile broke out across his face upon seeing Ferreth and he walked around his desk.

“Hey, I was wondering when I’d see you,” said Bris.

“Well, I was planning on coming by here anyway but my new friend here--” Ferreth wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulders, making him jump slightly-- “needed help finding you so why not save a trip?”

“Right.” Bris walked up and offered a hand. “I’m Brirsyrun, son of Nulzrot and Tallo of the air.”

That was a…unique way of introducing himself, he thought curiously as he put his hand in Bris’ and said, “I’m Eric Travere, lord of Aurora Zenith.”

“Aissyl said you had some important matters to discuss?”

“Yes, well, I wanted to talk with you regarding the relationship between Thornewind and Aurora Zenith.” He took a step forward, shrugging off Ferreth’s arm. “You see, I’m planning on going to the rest of the major cities and asking them for their cooperation. In simpler terms, I’m in want of allies. I already have the town of Brinegarde as one so Thornewind’s my second stop.”

“I see. Well, I’d like to talk more of this tomorrow morning because I have some things that need attending to today. Will that be all right with you?”

“No, that’s good, that’s great! I’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

Wow, a guaranteed meeting? No waiting for someone because they were fooling around instead of doing work in their office? This trip was already leagues better than Brinegarde’s and it was all due to Bris being a responsible adult. That pompous jackass Lianthorne could take some pointers.

“I think, with that being settled, we’re done here.” Bris gestured towards Ferreth. “Ferr, could you show Eric to the Dravitae Inn so he’ll have a place to stay during his time here?”

“Of course, my lord,” Ferreth replied with a joking smile.

“Don’t call me that, even if it’s a joke,” Bris protested, despite his own grin.

Aissyl led the two men outside with Bris following behind. Eric and Ferreth gave a short wave goodbye and they were off. He made sure to remember any and all distinctive markers on the roads as they walked. He didn’t want to be late for the meeting tomorrow because he was lost again.

“So, how was your first impression of Bris?” Ferreth asked, folding his hands behind his head. “Pretty nice guy, right?”

“Yeah, he seems like a really decent person--” he let out a chuckle before sighing wearily-- “which is a lot more than I can say about Brinegarde’s lord.”

“I’m guessing they weren’t as nice.”

“God, you would not believe. They’re probably the most arrogant and pretentious asshole I’ve ever met.”

“At least Bris isn’t like that, thankfully.”

“Yeah, thank god.”

Despite his complaining of it, he didn’t regret his trip to Brinegarde. It was a beautiful town, like many other coastal towns, and the sweets were to die for. Meeting and becoming friends with Ven, however, was easily the best part of that trip. No beauty or tasty treats will come close to the joy having her in his life brought. She was Brinegarde’s saving grace.

“You know, I’m curious…” He put a finger to his chin as if thinking about something before continuing. “What do you do around here, Ferreth? It must be a job that gives you a lot of free time if you’re allowed to cart me around all day.”

“Oh, I guess I’m what you’d call a handyman,” Ferreth replied. “I do general repairs wherever they’re needed and I basically do work people don’t wanna do themselves.”

“So it’s like you’re an errand boy, then?”

“I’d say handyman’s an upgrade from that but yeah. It may not be the most ideal job but it lets me help people and it doesn’t pay so bad, either.”

“No offense and all but…isn’t there something you’d rather be doing than being a handyman? I mean, I guess I don’t really understand it but still… Do you have something to aspire to?”

He swore he saw him tense up and a glimmer of something he couldn’t quite detect before it disappeared as he answered with, “Not really.”

That was most definitely a lie. He couldn’t figure out why Ferreth would lie to him over an innocent question like that but it was none of his business. There might’ve been more going on underneath the surface and they had only just met earlier today. No sane person tells a complete stranger their entire life story hours after meeting them. He was entitled to his secrets, as was he.

It was soon after they arrived at the Dravitae Inn. It was a simple four-story building, with pale green walls, a dark red shingled roof, a pair of large double doors serving as the entrance, and windows on either side that allowed passersby a peek inside the establishment. On the corner was a hanging metal sign that had the name of the inn inscribed on it with a sleeping dragon below. It seemed like a good enough place to stay in during his visit.

“Here we are.” Ferreth turned towards him. “You gonna need help getting to Bris’ tomorrow?”

“No, I should be good. Besides--” he placed a finger to his temple-- “I have a pretty good memory so I think I have the path there memorized.”

“All right, well, good luck tomorrow,” he said, gesturing his hand in a motion reminiscent of a salute. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.”

He began walking back the way they came. Eric watched his figure shrink smaller and smaller before he was out of sight completely. He hoped he’d have a chance to talk with him more throughout his stay here in Thornewind. He had questions he wanted answers to, such as the nature of the people here and what he was like. For now, though, it was time to check in.

A quick chat with the innkeeper later and he had his room. It was slightly smaller than his room back at home but it brought some comfort. A queen-sized bed sat on the right side of the room and an average cupboard opposite it. The armoire was tucked away into the upper left-hand corner while a small table and chairs were in the upper right-hand corner. A single window was set at the back, which gave him a decent view of Thornewind in the late afternoon.

He set his bag and key down on the table before flopping onto the bed. God, he wanted nothing more than to lay there for a minute or hour. He still wasn’t used to walking and talking by himself so he was thankful for the short rest. Hey, maybe by the time he goes to Emberranth, he’ll have the skills of a functioning human being and not that of an introverted shut-in.

He sat up, reached into his pocket, and took out his pendant. The crystal inside the bottle glinted slightly upon being held up to the light. He smiled as he brought it close to his chest, hoping his mother was watching over him.

Tomorrow was his meeting with Bris. Other than that, he had a few days to spend time doing whatever he wanted. Sightseeing, buying souvenirs, trying out Thornewind’s cuisine, he may as well treat himself as a tourist more than a visitor. He never got to do these things before now so he wanted to make the most of it.

May he leave Thornewind with an unforgettable experience.

#airi's writing #oc; Eric #oc; Ferreth #oc; Aissyl #oc; Brirsyrun #Corona's Shadow

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fromyourstrulyh · 5 years ago

Text

Adore You

Summary: Falling for the new intern wasn’t part of your agenda but Harry, the new intern, caught your eye from the very start.

Word Count: 2.1K

a/n: Helloooooooo!! First off, a massive thank you to Bri @hsogolden for letting me be a part of this challenge. This is such a fun project for me to write and I enjoyed it so much! Also, give some love to my betas @oh-honey-styles and @youresogolden-h! They are the sweetest in supporting my story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it! ☺️

You woke up to the continuous shrills of cars honking outside and the usual morning chaos that is rush hour just outside of your apartment. The curtains that shielded you from the world outside of your cozy bubble gently swayed and danced to the slight winter breeze outside. You rubbed your throbbing head and groaned, thinking back to the numerous glasses of wine you had just hours ago. You blinked your eyes open and sat upright before you took in the scene around you. Clothes from the night before were scattered in your room, and pizza boxes were yet to be discarded on your floor. You mentally scolded yourself for not cleaning up last night. You tumbled out of bed and immediately got to your routine: eat breakfast, brush hair and teeth, somehow come up with a decent outfit before you leave for work, which is arguably the worst part of your routine considering that you run into your neighbor, Tommy, daily.

“Morning! How are you doing?” he asks. Great. Time to fake a smile...again.

You respond, “Doing fine, thanks. Going to work as per usual.” You force a smile, hoping he doesn’t see the disappointment because you were so close in avoiding him this morning. An awkward silence loomed over you and Tommy while you felt the air becoming thick from all of the awkward tension, and you wanted nothing more than to get out of that elevator.

“Ah. I’m er-...running a few errands for the day then I will be free around 6. Maybe you w-wanna do somethin’ by then?”

Before you can respond, you hear the elevator ding, indicating that it reached the lobby floor of your apartment building. You shout “Sorry! Can’t! Bye!” and bolt out of the elevator and into the morning traffic outside. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in for a long time, relieved at the fact that you don’t work in the same building as your neighbor.

When you arrive at the office, you immediately noticed something off about it. Usually, not many people are at the office so early in the morning when, in this case, you see a huge crowd gathered around the cubicle next to you.

That’s strange. Why is everyone there so early in the morning? They’re usually not here for another couple of hours; besides, the cubicle hasn’t been used in months since our last employee was fired.

And then it hit you.

Your boss told your company you work at about a new intern coming to the office a couple of weeks ago. He seemed ecstatic to bring them in, which took you back considering that he had never been this excited about a new intern or employee before. You had never heard your boss give so much praise in a new member to the company’s team before. You didn’t pay much attention to it because you didn’t think they were that important, despite you being an intern yourself. You insisted to yourself these interns come and go, so you never gave yourself a reason to give any attention to the new interns. You knew you were expecting another intern...you just didn’t think they were coming in...today.

You slowly walked to your cubicle and towards the crowd. Once your coworkers see you approaching them, one by one they gave way, giving you a clearer view of the cubicle they surrounded. The man who was sitting on the chair of that cubicle beamed as soon as he saw his new cubicle buddy. His brown curls framed his face perfectly (almost too perfectly) and you couldn’t help but notice the shirt he wore for the day: a yellow and white paneled button-down shirt. Hm. How bold. This man thinks he has style though yellow is his color. It’s not something you haven’t seen before but you couldn’t help but look at it just a little longer. Maybe it’s because of the golden cross hanging in the middle of his chest. Maybe it’s because you’re really looking at his chest and the slightest hint of what looks like a swallow peeking from just underneath his shirt. If only he could reveal more of it… No. You just met the guy and you’re being unprofessional! Before anyone could notice your ogling his broad chest, you glanced down at his brown flared trousers and his pair of what seems to be scruffy white Vans.

You heard someone clear their throat a little and you looked up at the new intern to see that he was looking right back at you, his eyebrows raised slightly as if he was surprised.

“Hi. Name’s Harry. ‘S nice to meet you,” he says while putting his hand out between you guys for a handshake.

“Y/N,” you mutter while returning the handshake.

A few weeks have passed since you first met Harry and you noticed there was a different vibe lately when you were around him. Every time you were around him, you were (and still are) so hyper focused on how fast your heart beats, your palms go all sweaty, and how you stutter over every word that comes out of your mouth. You never felt that way before about anyone and it all felt new to you. Is this what it’s like to be in love? Oh god it’s like high school all over again with this stupid crush.

You figured the best way to figure out your feelings once and for all was to go to the restaurant just a couple of blocks from your apartment. You invited Harry to test things out. You somehow convinced yourself that you could be around him and not think about him in a way that is considered unprofessional. It’s for the best, you insisted.

Everything was going well so far. Your night with Harry was going so much better than you anticipated until a familiar voice exclaimed...

“Y/N! Hi!”

Wait. It can’t be.

To your horrifying surprise, you look up to find Tommy walking in your direction. Shit.

You tried to think of ways to avoid interacting with Tommy. Seeing him at your apartment complex is one thing...but this is a completely different story, one that you’re not willing to see how it would end. Not with Harry sitting right next to you.

You turn to face Harry and you murmur, “Harry, I need you to do me a favor and just follow my lead.”

Before he can take a glimpse at Tommy and form any response, you crash your lips against his.

And as quick as you initiated it, he was as quick to respond by kissing you just as hard.

Wrapping his arm around your back, he brought you closer to him. And as if you weren’t close enough, you looped your arms around his neck, making sure he doesn’t escape. Your lips passionately danced with his, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The feelings you tried to confine for so long came flooding back like a tidal wave.

“Y/N! What are you do- er...oh okay…” you heard before you heard Tommy walking away from your table. When the coast was finally clear, you detached your lips from his, opened your eyes, and unwrapped your arms from his neck, but the two of you remained close to each other.

“I-I’m so so sorry. I- uh...I shouldn’t have done that,” you stammered.

“‘S okay. Actually quite liked it,” he whispered back.

“No, I-I...should’ve asked you first if you were okay with that.”

“Love, it’s alright. Really.”

Love. The way the name just tumbled out of his mouth made it sound like so...so natural, like it belonged to him, only for him to say. It was music to your ears and you only wished him saying love was something you could hear on repeat.

You weren’t sure if it was just the alcohol or because you two were so close, but you were suddenly enchanted by the green with golden specks in his eyes. You thought it reminds you of a lush and green valley you could see from a distance. It is a paradise you didn’t mind getting lost in.

“Eyes...pretty…” you blurted. Your eyes went wide after realizing what you said and you immediately averted his gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice your reddened cheeks.

Harry smirked with that stupid dimple you love so much popping out. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, you really do,” you giggle, “I might be insane for saying this but I get so lost in your eyes. Would you believe it?” You look up at him to see him looking right back, patiently waiting for your attention.

“No. I can’t believe it,” he mutters.

You frown. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been lost in yours. For so long now.”

You look hard for any indication that he’s joking but his softened features in the dim lights of the booth at the restaurant and the sincerity in his voice say otherwise.

You almost swore you saw Harry quickly glance down at your lips before meeting your eyes again. You couldn’t blink, afraid of missing a mere second of this moment. You felt your hands become clammy and you wiped them down on the jeans you were wearing for the night.

When you finally closed the gap and pressed your lips against his for the second time that night, it was almost as if time slowed down, like the world blurred out of focus because your feelings for him felt so crystal clear. His lips tasted of lime and mint. Anyone else would think it’s a strange mix but you couldn’t help but want more. It’s intoxicating. You couldn’t help but wonder: why does it seem so wrong yet feel so right? You moved impossibly closer to him and you buried one hand into the baby hairs on the nape of his neck and tugged ever so slightly. He moaned in response, the vibrations suddenly awakened your entire body.

You weren’t aware that your eyes were still closed as you were still processing what happened and what you just did, the taste of your strawberry lemonade and the mint from the gum Harry chewed on hours ago was still lingering on your lips. Oh no...what if he didn’t like it? What if it’s not what he wanted?? Fuck...I should’ve made sure he was okay with that first. Fuck. You were afraid he was angered by what you just did but after what felt like an eternity, you finally blinked your eyes open to find a pair of green ones staring right back. Even under the faint lighting in your booth of the restaurant, his pupils were still gleaming. You immediately avoided them, instead focusing on his chest which turned out to be even worse. The button down he wore for the night was almost completely unbuttoned, his broad chest exposed with the intricately drawn butterfly tattoo on his stomach peeking out. You felt his ring-clad fingers cup your jaw and tilt your chin up, making you look into his eyes again. His hand never moved from its place on your jaw, the cold sting of the metal from his rings sent chills up your spine. He moved even closer to you, his lips just barely grazing yours. Glancing down at his lips, you took note of how red and bruised they look from your lipstick that tinted his lips and the kiss you shared moments ago. You felt your heart racing again, the heightened adrenaline from the alcohol running through your veins. The waves of nervousness you always felt were coming back. The next thing he says is barely a whisper...it’s said so softly, so quietly it was as if it was just the two of you, stuck in your own bubble that is now being shared with Harry. His voice was gravelly and raspy, and you felt your body heat up from his tone. It sent shivers up your spine, making you wonder what he has in mind and you knew you were ready for whatever he wanted with you.

“Why don’t we take this back to my place, love?”

[SCREAM WITH ME ABOUT ADORE YOU HERE]

#finelineficchallenge #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction

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yeetingmyfeeling · 4 years ago

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Run, Run, Run!

Chapter Nine

It had been a few weeks now since Brian had gotten together with the two other males. It was going well for the three of them, at least Brian thought so. He tried to spend as much time as he possibly could with them both equally. This was easy for him, as he still had no job.

That was an issue he had quite often. Being jobless. He was sick of being the only person in the house without a job. It made him bored, and impatient. He was home almost all the time, confined to the house or running around the forest.

This is what led him to going and talking to Jon about it. Jon was in his and Evan’s room, having just gotten home from work. He threw his work down on the desk he had, then jumped when he heard a knock on the door. “Come in!”

Brian hesitantly opened the door, walking into the room with an awkward smile. Jon saw him and grinned. He pulled off his jacket then sat down on the bed. “What’s up Brian?”

Brain shut the door behind him. He pulled the sleeves of his sweater, which is actually Tyler’s, over his hand. “I wanted to talk to you about something…” Jon nodded for him to keep going. “I want to look at getting a job.”

“A job huh?” Jon’s grin widened. He patted the spot next to him, so Brian walked over and sat next to him. “That sounds good, I can imagine you’re bored being stuck here. What kind of job would you want?”

“Well that’s the problem, I don’t know,” Brian shrugged. “I’ve never really had a job, and I don’t have much education. I never finished high school, or anything like that.”

Jon nodded slowly, listening to the other omega. “We can get you something simple, yeah? An easy first job. Let’s go talk to Evan first, he has to green light it.”

Brian agreed. They stood up and left the room, going up to Evan’s office. Jon didn’t bother knocking, just walking straight in. This disturbed the Alpha that was in the middle of falling asleep in his seat. Jon walked over to him with a smile, giving Evan a quick kiss.

“Shouldn’t you be doing important Alpha work?” Jon teased.

Evan rubbed the back of his head with a laugh. “Yeah yeah,” He gave Jon a little shrug, who ignored him and sat on the corner of the desk. “Jonathan!” Evan rolled his eyes. “Brian, what do I owe the pleasure?”

“He wants a job,” Jon answered as Brian actually sat down in a chair. “But he has never worked, and doesn’t have any completed education, except middle school.”

Evan made an ‘oh’ sound. “I reckon that would be okay, to get you a job. Did you have anything in mind?” Brian shook his head. Evan turned to his computer, typing up some stuff. “So, we’ll probably find you a place near some of the others. Tyler and David unfortunately work pretty far apart.”

“David does have the restaurant,” Jon suggested. “Or the bar with Anthony and Marcel.”

Evan shook his head. “The restaurant only accepts experienced workers, and bars are never a safe place for an omega to work,” Jon sighed but nodded. “Hospitality is always a good beginner job though.”

Jon suddenly gasped. “I know! Brian, how would you like to be a canteen.. Man… at the school Brock and I work at?”

“A canteen worker?” Brian questioned. “At a school?”

Jon nodded quickly, a massive grin on his face. “Oh even better, you can work in the office some days as well! It’s an all years school too. Evan, what do you think?”

Evan bit his lip as he looked at his excited omega. “It does sound like a good idea…” He looked over at Brian, who looked nervous but hopeful. He sighed. “Alright, I’ll ring them up now. Then hopefully you and Brock can take him in tomorrow. How’s that?”

“Thank you Ev!” Jon squealed, rushing to hug his Alpha. Evan laughed, returning the hug. He quickly kissed Jon. “Now get out so I can call!”

Jon giggled. He got up and grabbed Brian, pulling him out of the room. Jon was jumping up and down, making Brian laugh at him. “This’ll be great Bri!”

~~~~~

It was dinner time now. Brian was buzzing with energy. Evan had called the school, asking them about the possibility of Evan getting some jobs around the place. They said they would see what they can do, and to have Brock and Jon bring him in tomorrow.

EVan told the two omegas this, and they jumped around in happiness. Everyone happened to be home tonight, they always were in situations like this. Weird. So, Brian was left to tell everyone the exciting news.

Brian was so excited, that he decided Jon and himself were going to make dinner. Jonathan laughed, but agreed. So together they whipped up a quick lamb dish. Brian struggled, but he enjoyed it. Jon said it was the omega heritage coming out.

So now, here everyone sat. They were all around the table, talking, laughing, and enjoying the meal. Brian sat between David and Tyler, like he always does these days. He had a brief conversation with David on their first date about getting a job, and the beta sounded supportive. He hoped the Alpha would be the same.

“So,” Evan spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, making them all quieten down. They all looked at their alpha in question. “I believe a certain omega has some news…”

“Tyler! You got Brian pregnant already!” Anthony jokingly accused. “I knew we should have separated them more.”

“The fuck? No!” Tyler shouted, making everyone laugh at him. The Alpha just rolled his eyes. “Who has what news?”

Jon winked at Brian, making the younger omega take a shake breath. “I’ve got some news..” Everyone was looking at him now. He bit his lip. “It’s really not that big of a deal, at all. Just, I might be getting a job at Brock and Jon’s school..?”

“That’s great!” David immediately cheered. He wrapped an arm around Brian’s shoulders, bringing the boy into his chest. Brian laughed. “No really, that’s so good! I hope you can get it, it’ll be a blessing for ya.”

“Thank you Daithi,” Brian flushed. David grinned, leaning down and pecking Brian’s lips. This brought a smile to the omegas lips.

Everyone else shared their words of support. They all hoped he could get the job. Marcel stating it was better than the omega constantly bugging everyone when they were home, making Brian stick out his tongue. Everyone saw it as a good thing.

Everyone except Tyler, that is.

“No,” Was Tyler’s response. “That will not be happening.”

“What…?” Brian’s smile fell as he looked at Tyler with hurt in his eyes. “Wh-What do you mean?”

“You are not getting that job,” Tyler was stubborn. “You are safe at the house, and there is nothing wrong with being here all the time.”

“Yes there is!” Brian argued. “I hate being here all the time, I’m so bored!”

Tyler just shook his head. “You’re not getting that job, and that’s final Brian.”

Brian frowned. He turned, glaring at his plate. He could feel tears well in his eyes. He huffed and stood up quickly. He shoved his chair back in and stormed out of the room. The incredibly quiet room. Jon stood up once the doors slammed and glared at Tyler.

“God you are such a… a dumb fucking alpha!” Jon shouted, pointing at the man who looked guilty. “I don’t know why Evan ever thought to choose you as his second. Tyler Wine, you are a horrible man,” Then he stormed out of the room, chasing after Brian.

“I’m going to be getting an earful…” Evan muttered.

David moved over seats, sitting where Brian once sat. He placed a hand on Tyler’s thigh, looking at him with a gentle gaze. “Tyler? What was that about?”

Tyler looked at David. He sucked his lip into his mouth before responding. “He’s safe here,” Was his answer. David gave him a look. “Fine. I don’t feel comfortable with Brian going out without anyone being there. He is safe and okay here. Out of harm's way, where we can see him. He is hardly ever completely alone.”

“He’s being an alpha,” Ryan spoke from across the table. “Luke was much the same when we first started dating. He hated me going out on my own, and was always worried I would be too depressed if something happened to an animal at work.”

“But I adapted, because being a Vet is what made Ryan happy,” Luke added. “Getting that job will make Brian happy Tyler. He isn’t a pup, he’s a full grown man. Plus, at least Brock or Jon will always be there. They know the place, the area. They’ll take care of him.”

Brock nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on him Tyler. You trust me right?” Tyler nodded slowly. “I’ll take good care of your omega, I’ll make sure he is safe and happy. If anything happens, you will be first called. Okay?”

David rubbed Tyler’s knee. “See, Ty,” He smiled. “Brian is tough, and sassy. He’ll be okay, you know he will be. Have faith.”

Tyler sighed loudly. He closed his eyes momentarily before opening them. “Fuck.. okay,” David smiled and leaned forward, kissing the alphas cheek. “Alright, alright. I’ll go apologise.”

Tyler stood up, giving David a quick kiss before leaving. He missed the way everyone awe’d at them. He made his way up the stairs and knocked on Brian’s door. No response. He sighed and found it was unlocked, so he opened the door. All the lights were off, there was no Brian. He frowned.

He made his way to Jon and Evan’s room and knocked on the door. “Fuck off Alpha cunt!” Found him.

Tyler sighed, rolling his eyes. If anyone was to be more stubborn than him, it was Jonathan. “Jon, can I please speak to my boyfriend?”

“You’re not going to crush his dreams again?” Jon snarked. “Make him feel worthless, make him cry?”

“That wasn’t what I was- he’s crying?” Tyler stressed. He wiggled the doorknob. “Jonathan, open the fucking door and let me talk to him.”

He heard shushed voices, a loud sniffle, then footsteps. The door slowly opened to an angry looking Jon. He stepped aside, letting Tyler in. The second Tyler entered the room, he saw his omega sniffling on the large bed. He did that.

Brian gasped as he was suddenly enveloped in strong arms. He melted into the touch as large hands rubbed his back. “I’m sorry Bri, I’m sorry. You can get the job, you can. I’m just being an alpha, being stupid. I just worry about you, is all.”

“It’s okay,” Brian mumbled, burying his face in Tyler’s chest. “Thank you for saying you’re sorry.”

They stayed in the embrace for a while, just holding each other. Until Jon got sick of it and kicked them out. Tyler took them to his room. He stripped down to his boxers, and Brian stripped his pants, still wearing Tyler’s sweater. The two then curled up in Tyler’s bed and fell asleep.

~~~~~

The next day, Brian was woken up by Jon and Brock jumping on him. Brian groaned loudly, but it was nothing compared to the loud growl he heard from beside him. It both put fear and arousal through his body.

He heard a loud thump, followed by a groan. “Tyler!” It was Brock, he had been shoved off the bed. Tyler ignored the beta and wrapped his arms around Brian again, snuggling into the boy. Brian giggled.

“Tyler, you have to stop holding Brian hostage,” Jon whined. “We have to get him up for his first day.”

“It is six in the fucking morning,” Tyler grumbled. “Even I don’t get up this early, now fuck off.”

“It’s the life of a teacher,” Brock mumbled as he sat up, rubbing his side. “Come on man!”

Tyler sighed and rolled away from Brian, making the omega pout from the sudden loss of warmth. He could no grieve for too long as he was suddenly hauled out of the bed.

“Go shower, we’ll put clothes on your bed,” Jon had been the one to grab him and start shoving him around. “Then come downstairs and we’ll have breakfast.”

Brian grumbled as he was shoved in the direction of the shower. He did want to make a good impression, but he was in Tyler’s bathroom. Well, smelling like the alpha would give him comfort. So he just stole all Tyler’s nice stuff.

It didn’t take him long to get clean, shave, use Tyler’s spare toothbrush. He dried himself down and wrapped the towel around his waist. He walked back into the bedroom, seeing Tyler snoring, laying on his stomach. Walking over, Brian kissed his cheek and mumbled a goodbye.

As he was walking away, Tyler sat up and wrapped an arm around Brian’s waist. The boy yelped as he was suddenly pulled down onto the alphas lap.

“Be safe,” Tyler mumbled, kissing Brian’s neck. He started rubbing his face all over Brian’s back, making the omega giggle from the ticklish beard hair. “Stay with Brock and Jon, if someone seems sketchy avoid them, and text me or David if something happens. Okay?”

“Okay,” Brian nods. He turns around and grabs Tyler’s face with both hands. They kiss, an expression of their feelings, before pulling away. Brian pecks the alphas lips one last time before leaving to his own bedroom.

Brian guessed Jon picked out his clothes. The outfit was black jeans, a white button up shirt, a red sweater that Brian noticed was David’s, and black shoes. It was simple and casual. Brian quite liked it.

He went downstairs to where there were some others in the kitchen. Brock and Jon were talking as Brock made coffees. They smiled seeing Brian enter and Brock handed him a coffee. Ryan and Jaren were also there, the younger boy looking barely awake.

They ate their breakfasts, and drank their coffees, only making occasional small talk. Eventually they all had to leave. Ryan and Jaren left together, Ryan driving them. Then Brock, Jon and Brian left together, Brock driving them.

Brock drove a blue SUV, which Brian really thought suited the beta. They clambered in, Brian in the back, and were off.

“So, Brian,” Jonathan twisted in his seat, grinning at the other omega. “Excited?”

“Nervous,” Brian mumbled. He fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater as he looked at the elder. “But yeah, excited.”

“It’ll be good!” Jon reassured. “You’ll love it, I’m sure.”

Brian just had to believe the other male. The drive continued in silence, Brian’s knee bouncing in anxiousness. They arrived at the school, and Brian thought it looked quite nice. It was better than the old school he went to in Ireland.

They arrived around ten minutes to eight, and Brock said this was just to make sure Brian got a good look around. First they took him to the front office, where a kind looking lady was sitting. She introduced herself as Amelia.

“Hi dear, you must be that young man looking for a job?” Amelia questioned, and Brian nodded. She gave him a soft smile. “Fantastic! I’d love having you on the team, but it’s all up to Mr. Principal man. He isn’t here yet, so you boys show…”

“Brian.”

“Brian around the school,” She gave him a pat on the arm then went back to her business.

Brock and Jonathan led Brian through the quite large school. As it went from kindergarten to year twelve, the school was quite large. It did have two sections, with the main few buildings in the middle. Brock and Jonathan work in the middle school area, so that’s where Brian would be as well.

After they took him around the school, they took him back to the front office. Students were starting to show up, making Brian even more nervous. They dropped him off at the Principal’s office and went to their staff room.

The door opened, and a young looking man approached Brian. The omega quickly stood up and smiled at the other. “Hey there, Brian Hanby?” Brian nodded. “I’m Andy, pleased to meet you,” The two shook hands before entering Andy’s office.

“So Jon’s husband Evan called me, and talked about you wanting a job?” Andy started. “Canteen and office, we can do that. He then called me again, ten minutes ago, and told me you have a worried alpha, and this will be your first job,” Brian blushed, looking at his lap. Andy laughed. “No worries Brian! We can work around that.”

Andy moved around in his spinny chair, pulling papers out of a cabinet. He laid them out on the table. “So, Brian. My plan for you is to have you work in the office till recess. Then we’ll shove you in the canteen, and then you can hang out with Brock or Jon after you do the cleaning. How’s that sound?”

“I- good!” Brian answered quickly. “That- That sounds good to me, yeah.”

Andy gave him a grin. He stood up and walked out, gesturing for Brian to follow. They went into a room that was next to reception. “This is the staffroom for our staff who aren’t teachers. Here’s a spare locker, you can put your stuff in that.”

Brian did just that, quickly placing his things in the locker. After he closed it, he turned back to Andy. Andy led him back to reception, and behind the counter, over to Amelia. Andy reintroduced the two before leaving Brian in her hands.

#brian hanby #daithi de nogla #daithi de terroriser #daithi de wildcat #the gaming terroriser #i am wildcat #tyler wine #brian hanby and tyler wine #terroriser and wildcat #bbs #banana bus squad #banana bus crew #vanoss crew #vanossgaming #h2odelirious #abo #alpha beta omega

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illfoandillfie · 5 years ago

Text

Snapshots From Before

A/N:Request: Could you do a smutty prequel to Interloper back to when she was a groupie?💚

READ INTERLOPER

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader, Brian May x Reader, John Deacon x Reader, Freddie Mercury x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Smut (18+), edging/orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamics, oral sex (f and m receiving), anal, a bit of spanking, choking

Words: 4102

A/N: Requested as part of my 1000 follower celebration, got a little longer than planned lmao

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks

Following Queen on tour was always fun. The first time you’d done it, quit your job and jumped in your shitty car and hit the road, had been exciting if a little frustrating. There was more than one night you slept in your car, having been unable to catch the attention of any of the boys. But by the end of the tour they knew you well enough. Things had changed a bit since then. Your car wasn’t quite so shitty for one. For another, the boys definitely knew you now. You wouldn’t necessarily say you were friends, though you were friendly. They certainly expected to see you now, invited you to join them for dinner occasionally, had no problems with stopping for a chat when they passed you backstage. But for the most part your relationships definitely revolved around the physical.

***

On a rare off day, no show that night, Roger found you in the bar. “Scotch on the rocks, and whatever the lady’s having,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table as he sat down beside you, his arm draped over your shoulder. “Been a while since anyone’s called me a lady,” “Been a while since you acted like one,” “Thanks Rog,” you took a sip of the drink he’d bought you, “So what’re you doing here?” “Looking for you actually. ‘m bored,” the final word came out as a whine that on other men would seem childish but somehow not on Roger. Perhaps because you knew he was a big kid at heart. “Shouldn’t you be relaxing? Catching up on sleep? Getting ready for tomorrow night’s show?” “Nah that’s all boring, much rather have a drink with you,” “I know that tone Mr Taylor, a drink’s never just a drink with you,” “Can’t blame me for wanting a shag from my favourite groupie,” “I’m your favourite now am I? Thought that was Monica with the big tits,” “Oh she’s fine and all but not as good as you,” You hummed and took another drink, “keep talking like that and I might just have to blow you,” “Wonderful offer but I had something else in mind. My room, five minutes,” He downed the last of his drink, tapping the table once more before he left.

You waited three and a half minutes, taking your time to finish your drink, before you stood and made your way to the elevator. The door opened after two knocks, Roger slipping the do not disturb sign onto the handle as he pulled you inside. “Right on time,” he said as he pulled you through his suite towards the couch. “Well you don’t earn such high praise as yours without some punctuality,” “Punctuality. Good word. We should play scrabble some time,” “Strip scrabble?” you asked as Roger began pulling your clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor. “Is there such a thing? Pretty sure if there was I would have played it,” “Well let’s invent it then,” you shrugged, letting out a small squeal of surprise as he pushed you, naked, onto the couch and dropped to his knees in front of you. “Next time. Got a different game for you today.” “And what are the rules?” “There’s only one rule. No cumming,” he pushed your legs wide, “such a lovely cunt. Actually, spose I should specify. You’re not allowed to. I can do what I want.” His finger tips traced light patterns over the inside of your thigh, making you shiver with anticipation, “Do I win something at the end?” “You win my praise and you win my cum and you don’t end being punished. If you’re very good I might give you a ruin.” You squirmed at his words, earning a laugh from Roger. “Christ you’re already wet and I’ve not even started yet. This is going to be fun.”

You had half a second to try to compose yourself before he was leaning forward and dragging his tongue along your slit. He wasted no time in slowly working you up or teasing you, instead heading straight for your clit, his tongue pulsing against you, making you whine almost instantly. “Bloody show-off,” you muttered, feeling Roger’s breath against your pussy as he chuckled and continued sucking on your clit. When you whined that you were close Roger pulled back a little, fingertips already dancing over the inside of your thighs again, until your orgasm had subsided enough for him to continue. By the time his mouth left you a third time you were falling apart. He leaned back, eyes roving over you, taking in your quivering legs, your hands clutching at the couch cushions, stiff nipples, closed eyes, teeth-bruised lips. And then he started in on you again, leaning close, his tongue flicking over you, sucking on every sensitive spot you had, but with the added stimulation from his fingers. They pumped into you slowly, almost delicate in the way he touched you, except for how they curled against your walls suddenly, making you shudder and cry out and once again warn him you were close. “This is why you’re my favourite, so responsive. And obedient. Monica with the big tits would never tell me she was close so I could edge her, she doesn’t have the patience. But you’re a good little slut who likes earning praise.” Again, and again he stopped and started and stopped again, laughing when you caved and begged him to finish you off. “Sound so pretty begging,” he stood up. “Wait, where are you going?” you’d thought the threat of denial was part of the game, incentive to get you to play along. You’d not for a moment considered it was real, that Roger might actually leave you dripping wet and desperate. “Nowhere, but I love how worried you got," he shrugged off his shirt and undid his pants, freeing his cock, precum dripping from the tip, “Kneel for me.” You shifted to your knees, leaning against the arm of the couch as Roger position himself behind you, holding your hips with one hand and using the other to slide his cock along your folds. You tried to shift backwards, find more friction but he made a warning sound that had you dropping your head and trying to hold still. A jolt went through you as he tapped his cock against your clit and then again, making you whine loudly. “I’d tease you more but your pathetic little noises have got me painfully hard,” he squeezed your hip as he entered you in one fluid motion, “and before you ask, you still don’t have permission.” You choked out a moan, so focused on trying to breath that you were taken by surprise when he started fucking you. He was deep, shifting his hand to your back so you’d arch your arse up higher as he ploughed into you. “Rog - shit - ‘m close,” “Already?” he slowed his thrusts but didn’t pull out as you tried to calm down, withdraw from the edge again. As soon as you nodded he sped up again, returning to his original pace. And then slowed when you clenched down and whimpered another warning of your impending release. But the next time he ignored you. “Im gonna-” “Hold it,” “Please,” “Hold. It,” each word was punctuated with a grunt as Roger chased his own release. You closed your eyes and tried to concentrate on counting your breaths, anything to distract you from how he sounded as he got closer, how he felt hitting so hard and deep, how tempting it was to just give in and take a punishment. Tears caught on your lashes as Roger came, collapsing over you and panting in your ear as he recovered enough to pull out. “Good girl,” he said softly, brushing your damp hair away from your face, “you can go now.”

“Wait, what?” “You were right, I should be using today to relax. Rest.” “Rog, c’mon, you’re not really going to leave me like this,” “I could. If I wanted to keep you like this all day I could. Not like there’s a show to get ready for or anything,” “Well I could go find one of the others to help me out,” “Yeah, you could. But you wouldn’t. Because you know I’d come looking for you again later and I’d expect to find the same messy slut I left. Besides, Bri and Deaky have gone out for the day.” You whined again which only made Roger laugh. “Maybe I’ll make you a deal,” “Yes, anything,” “Don’t agree just yet, you haven’t heard it,” “Tell me what it is then,” “Here’s the thing. I’m tired. Don’t feel like exerting myself anymore, so I’m going to hop into bed. If you’re really so desperate for dick you can ride me. Take my load well enough, with no fucking complaining about being close, and I’ll let you cum on my fingers. I’ll even let you lick them clean after.”

***

Brian’s half unbuttoned shirt was sticking to him, still sweaty from the show he’d just played. He buried his face in his towel, dragging it down over his neck and chest and you were hit by the sudden urge to take the towel from his hands and continue its path with your tongue. “You were on fire tonight Bri,” “Yeah, really great crowd. Really great show, all round.” “Yes, but I was specifically talking about you. Couldn’t’ve dragged my eyes away from you tonight if I’d wanted to,” “Is that so?” He sounded intrigued, exactly where you wanted him. “Mmhmm, though I’m afraid I didn’t pay much attention to what you were playing. Kept getting distracted by your fingers. Watching you handle Red just made me think of how good it feels when you handle my pussy.” “Naughty,” “Oh you don’t even know the half of it. Because see, I've been thinking about you since you did the run through earlier today,” you stepped closer, running your fingers down his arm as you spoke, “Watched you for a bit while you were rehearsing and got thinking about your fingers and then about your cock. About how well you fill me. Your cock in my arse while you finger my pussy. How pretty you sound moaning for me. How badly I want to hear you beg to have me. It’s a bit silly how worked up I got, had to go and change my panties before the actual show started. But that did give me the chance to get my plug.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. His fingers were tense on the towel and you could have sworn his bulge was more noticeable than it had been before. It certainly felt hard against you as you pressed your body into his and trailed your fingers back up his arm, continuing the path up to his jaw. “And that’s not even mentioning all the filthy things I thought about during the actual show. You looked so fucking hot out on that stage, I could’ve crawled out and blown you in front of that entire crowd.” “Jesus Christ,” “Don’t you want me Bri? I can be a desperate whore if you want – call you Sir and beg you to fuck me. Or I can choke you and tell you how pretty you look when you cum for me, I know how much you like that. Whatever you want from me you can have.” “You’re wicked. Couldn’t have waited until we were out of the fucking stadium to do this? There’s nowhere here I can fuck you without risking being walked in on.” “There’s the bus,” “As in the tour bus me and the boys essentially live on?” “Why not?” “Persuasive argument. S’pose what they don’t know won’t hurt them. We’ll have to try not to make too much of a mess though.” “Promise I’ll take everything you give me, won’t spill a drop.” “Oh I wasn’t worried about that, it’s your mess I meant. I know how wet you get when I’m in both your holes.” “Could wait until we got back to the hotel I guess,” Brian scoffed, “Fuck that. I don’t care about the boys that much.”

There was no way the rest of the band and crew didn’t know what you were doing. After all Brian had disappeared between leaving the stage and returning to their dressing room and the last person he’d been seen talking to was you. So everyone was bound to work it out sooner or later. You hoped that meant you’d have ample time but Brian wasn’t taking any chances, pulling your shorts and panties off as soon as the door of the bus was shut behind you. It was hot in the bus, the air a little stale, but Brian was already drenched in sweat and you were just drenched, so neither of you really noticed. “Bend over the table for me,” he said as he moved towards the bags stored at the back of the bus. You pulled your shirt off and got into position, palms resting on the table that was usually used to balance petrol station coffee cups and games of scrabble. Brain returned, popping open a tube of lube. “You ready? I’m gonna take your plug out okay?” “Mmhmm, I’m ready,” You braced yourself, resting your forearms on the table and tried to stay relaxed as Brian slowly eased the plug from you. It was replaced moments later by his fingers, the cool lube that covered them making you shiver. “Feels so good Brian. Got no idea how badly I’ve wanted this all day,” “Think I’ve got some idea,” he said, pushing his hips towards you. “Poor boy,” you looked back at him over your shoulder, “Ask nicely,” “Please can I fuck you, Y/N?” “Fuck me how Brian?” “You’re going to be the fucking death of me. Please can I fuck your arse?” “God yes,”

He chuckled as he pulled his fingers from you. The was a pause as he grabbed more lube and then he was replacing his fingers with his cock, causing you to whine into the table. “Taking me so well,” he said softly as he carefully worked himself deeper, “you okay?” “Mmm so good, Bri. Fuck you feel so good.” “Yeah? Feel, fuck, feel pretty good yourself. So fucking tight. Gon-gonna start moving okay?” “Yes, fuck me please,” “Needy fucking slut,” he slapped your arse and began thrusting into you. You clutched at the edges of the table, chest pressed against the cool surface as he got rougher, leaning over you and slipping a hand around your throat, forcing you to raise your head. “Better get used to taking me like this. Your arse is so good I’m never going to want your cunt again.” It was all you could do to remember to breath. Between the pressure on your throat and the way he was railing you into the table there was barely any room left in your head for simple functions like breathing. He let go of your throat, leaving you gasping as he dropped his hand to your pussy, sliding his long, dextrous fingers into you. Whenever he thought you were getting too comfortable, he’d lay another spank on your cheek, the sting only turning you on more. “F-fuck,” “So wet. Knew you’d make a mess.” he let his thumb fall to your clit, drawing a moan from you, “Should have invited one of the others, could’ve had them fuck your cunt for me. Oh! The slut likes that suggestion,” You moaned again, clenching around his fingers at the idea of two of the boys sharing you. “You gonna cum thinking about two cocks filling you? What about three, one each of your holes. C’mon, show me what a greedy whore you are and cum.” He let go of your hip to choke you again, hand vaguely sticky from the lube he’d spread over his cock and the added pressure was enough to send you falling over the edge with a loud cry. You shook as he kept pounding into you, his grip on your throat the only thing keeping you from fully collapsing against the table. The fingers between your legs rubbed against your g-spot, pushing you into another orgasm as reached his own climax. “Shit,” he panted as he withdrew from you, leaving you a twitching mess over the table, “guess we should go clean up for the afterparty.” He placed a light spank on your backside and then left the bus.

***

“Woah, hey,” you blurted as you felt a hand wrap around your arm and begin pulling you towards a closed door. “Shhh, keep your voice down,” “John, what are you doing?” “Hold your horses,” John opened the door and pushed you inside, following with a final glance around the empty corridor, and pulling the door shut behind you. He fumbled in the dark for a moment, both of you blinking when he found the light switch he’d been searching for, illumination the small room you’d ben so unceremoniously shoved into. “Jesus John, what was that about? Don’t you have to be on stage in, like, ten minutes?” “fifteen,” “So what are we doing in here?” “You’re,” he pushed down on your shoulder, “going to suck me off.” “Am I now?” you stood your ground. “You caused this hardon you can fix it,” he pushed down on your shoulder again and this time you let him, lowering yourself to the ground, “Walking round in those skimpy little shorts and that tight shirt with no bra.” “What about it?” “Don’t play dumb. You wanted one of us to see you so you’d have an excuse to slut it up before the show. Congratulations, it worked.” “That actually wasn’t my plan, I was just hot, but I’m kinda glad it’s worked out this way,” you ran your hand up the inside of his thigh, tracing the outline of his dick, “weren’t kidding when you said you were hard,” “Get sucking, don’t have much time,” “Geeze, alright I’m going,” you quickly undid his fly, wiggling his pants down and wrapped your hand around his cock, lowering your mouth to the tip. He let you bob up and down his shaft for a couple of minutes before his hand landed on the back of your head, holding you in place as his hips jolted forward. You gagged when his cock hit the back of your throat. “Hey!” some of the effect was lost as you choked the word out, “what the fuck!” “Told you, short on time. Now hold still while I fuck your mouth.” He didn’t give you another chance to protest, ramming his cock back into your throat, using both hands to keep you in place. You could feel saliva dripping down your chin and onto your chest, wet gags being pushed from you with every rough thrust he gave. All you could do was hold onto him, fingers digging into his thighs, and try to stay relaxed.

“God,” he grunted, “bet you’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you slut,” You hummed around him, earning a moan in return. In the corridor outside you heard someone call for John. The man in question held his finger to his lips as he pulled away from you. “Where the fuck is he? We’re on in two bloody minutes,” “Calm down Rog, he’s probably just in the bathroom,” “He better be.” The footsteps subsided and John shoved his cock back into your mouth, “Gotta finish me off, sweetie.” You did your best to speed up his release, using your tongue as he kept ramming himself into your throat, muttering about how close he was, until finally his hips jolted and his fingers tightened on your head and the familiar salty taste hit you. John’s head dropped forward as he slipped from your lips, hands dropping from your head. “Thanks Y/N, you’re a life saver,” John readjusted his pants, zipping them back up. “Well couldn’t have you going on stage in that state could we,” you said as you stood. He laughed, “Definitely not. Find me after and we’ll see what we can do with a bit more time,” “Sure, if Rog hasn’t killed you,” “Shit, yeah, I should run,”

***

The studio was quiet, almost all of the lights turned off. You’d flicked a single one on as you snuck in, heart racing. Technically no one had said you couldn’t go in there but you still felt like you were breaking some kind of rule. The draw was too strong to resist though. If there was one thing you loved it was music, it’s part of what had drawn you to hanging around bands in the first place, which led to sleeping with them. A natural progression of sorts. It was your dirty little secret though. Stolen moments while the band were sleeping off the previous night or having a day off. You’d flirt with some poor dumb bloke who worked at the studio, the kid who got people coffee or who answered the phone. Not enough that anyone could suggest you were going to sleep with him, just enough to make him believe you would. He’d unlock the door for you, maybe make you pay with a kiss or a quick flash of your tits if he was particularly bold. And then you’d find a guitar and start plucking at the strings, seeing what you could come up with.

You’d been tempted to use Brian’s Red Special every time you’d see it, sitting out, begging to be picked up. So far you’d managed to resist though you were certain one quick strum of it would inspire instant classics, the stuff of legends and record contracts. But Brian would be pissed if he found out and besides you weren’t worthy of that incredible instrument. So you stuck to an old beaten up acoustic that seemed to have lived at the studio for decades if not centuries. It was worn and you’d had to replace all of the strings but it had a decent sound, workable at least. It was familiar to you now, your fingers easily finding their place as you began picking out the chords you’d been working on. You backtracked, made adjustments, sang the lyrics you’d written over the notes you played, tried to get it just right. “That’s pretty, did you write it?” You gasped at the familiar voice behind you. “It’s only me darling, nothing to be frightened of,” “Jesus Freddie. Thought I was alone.” “Was on my way home and saw the light on, thought I should check it out just in case. I didn’t know you played,” he gestured at the guitar you held, as if there was any doubt what he was talking about. “Well you wouldn’t since I don’t tell anyone.” “Why not?” You shrugged, “Just never have,” “You should. You’ve got a lovely voice,” “Thank you,” “But you never answered me, did you write it?” “Yeah,” you looked at your feet, “it’s still a work in progress though.” “Well it sounds lovely so far.” “It’s okay, not working out as easily as some other stuff I’ve come up with,” “There’s more?” “Nothing special, just a few things I’ve been playing around with. Bit of fun is all.” “Bit of fun my arse. What you and those beasts I call bandmates get up to is fun, you want to write properly, don’t you?” “Kind of, yeah. Been wanting to make music since I was a kid but never really got the chance.” “If a chance is all you need I can help,” “Help how?” “Darling I have access to quite a number of high-powered men in the music industry. I’ll help you record a demo, make sure it gets into the right hands. And if none of them snap you up I’ll bloody do it myself. I’ll be your musical fairy godmother, wave my wand and make your dreams come true,” he winke at you. “Freddie, I-” “Don’t say something stupid like you can’t accept or that it’s too much. I absolutely insist you let me help you get a foot in the door.” “I don’t know what to say,” “Say, let’s do it Freddie,” “Let’s do it Freddie,” you laughed. “Excellent! You’re going to go home and write out your five best songs for me and we’ll start working on recording them tomorrow, okay?” “Okay!” you couldn’t help but grin, “How can I thank you for this?” “Dedicate your first album to me, that’ll do.”

#my writing #queen smut #roger taylor x reader #brian may x reader #john deacon x reader #roger taylor smut #brian may smut #john deacon smut #roger taylor imagine #brian may imagine #john deacon imagine #freddie mercury imagine #1000 follower celebration #hope this is okay!

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cir · 4 years ago

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“You doing okay?” It’s Jae of all people to come check on him.

He’s found a relatively quieter section of the house, outside the balcony. It’s mid-winter and he’s freezing, but he hasn’t been able to feel his fingers for a while now and it’s starting to bother him less. Jae has taken a seat across from him, crossing his arms. He rather looks like a father figure in the current situation and it makes Peter laugh.

“No.” Peter admits, while shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“You want me to take you home?” Jae offers. Peter thinks he must really look like shit if Jae’s being this nice to him. He shakes his head to answer instead. Jae’s chair groans as he leans backwards on it, while Peter sits up a bit straighter. “Do you want me to go get Bri?”

“No!” He shakes his head a bit more vigorously this time. “I know... I know this is important to him.”

Jae tilts his head. “Is it though?” He proposes the question only for there to be silence that follows it. “Everything is important to Brian though.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the problem with him.”

Peter snorts and Jae does too.

“His biggest strength and his biggest weakness, huh.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while. Peter’s about to tell Jae that he’s going to head home, when there’s a knock on the balcony door. Both Jae and Peter turn around at the same time, to see Brian and his big, goofy smile coming through the door.

“What’s my two favorite people doing out here? This is where the party is huh.” Brian’s got that slight color to his cheeks. Although he’s not drunk, he’s flushed a bit, showing even in the dim lights outside.

“You said that shit to Bonnie and Wade an hour ago. Don’t say the same halfassed stuff to different people at least. Well. Anyway. I have to go check on if they restocked the guac.” Jae says while getting up, moving over to pat Brian on the shoulder. Peter gets up too, gathering his things. When he looks back up, he realizes Jae’s whispering something to Brian, before he leaves. Brian’s smile’s fallen, and instead his brows have furrowed up in worry.

“You want to go home?”

Peter reminds himself to punch Jae later. “Yeah, I’m going to take a cab.” He shoves his phone as well as his palms into his pockets again, as if afraid to showcase his hands to Brian. “I don’t really know anyone and... even if I did you know I don’t really do... well in places like this.”

“I’ll come with you, I --” Someone calls Brian’s name from inside the house, not even once but thrice.

“I can take a cab on my own, Brian. I’ll be okay.” Peter snorts, before walking towards him and giving him a peck on the cheek. Brian’s skin is warm and Peter’s lips are cooler. Brian looks like he wants to say something, but the voices inside have gotten louder, with now multiple different people calling for Brian. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Peter’s about to push past Brian but he grabs for his arm, gently but with enough force.

“Stay for fifteen more minutes. I’ll take you home. I just have to let them know I’m leaving.” Brian looks down at him, with those eyes of his, and it makes Peter stumble for a moment. Brian reads his hesitation and squeezes at his arms on both sides. “Fifteen minutes?” Brian actually gives him a pout. “Please?”

Maybe it’s because he’s cold and just wants to get home and take a shower, or it’s because he’s wanted to leave the moment he got here and saw Brian a bit too close to someone, but it doesn’t work this time. “Brian.” Peter says his name, before slipping out of his grasp. “It’s okay. I’m going to go home, I’ll see you tomorrow anyway.”

This time, Brian looks annoyed. “But you said you wanted to come and be here.”

“Brian, it’s fine. Really, I --”

Brian continues. “That was the only reason we came. If you had said no, we didn’t have to come, you know. We could have just --”

“I don’t... I don’t enjoy feeling like this!” Peter yells. It’s sudden, and it cuts through the air between the two of them. Brian takes a physical step back from Peter, and tries to find his eyes.

Brian’s voice lowers. “What are you feeling?”

Even now, Brian is tender and everything warm, and it makes Peter feel just that much colder. He makes the habitual mistake of meeting Brian’s eyes for a moment, only to tear them away. He hides his face in the palms of his hands, which have gotten a bit slippery and sweaty during their conversation.

“Like... like...” Peter mumbles, trying to organize his thoughts to be able to sort through his feelings. It doesn’t help that he can feel Brian’s eyes on him and him only; he knows he’s looking at him with concern and he hates that he’s the one causing it. “Like...” He rubs at his eyes, before settling his hands to his side. His voice has climbed back into the ground, now low again without any strength to it. “Like I have to compete with everyone. Like I’m just like anyone else that you know and interact with.”

“Like I’m not enough.” He swallows something down his throat, but his mouth feels dry and hoarse.

“I’m fucking jealous all the time of everyone around you even though I know you don’t mean to make it that way and... I’m always so nervous and I know nothing’s going to happen but it always feels like it could at any moment and it’s all I can think about in places like this.” Peter’s chest falls, only because he only realizes after finishing his sentence that he’s been holding his breath the entire time. It’s how he’s felt at the entire party, for the past three hours. They’ve existed in the same space, but he’s felt absent even in his presence.

“I know... that it’s not true but sometimes, especially at events like this... it.. it feels like you only love the idea of me and... ” Peter lifts his head a bit, with his hands now fisted at his side. His chest moves again to let out another breath, and he finally feels the beginnings of what it feels like to be empty.

He knows he’s said too much by now, and there’s no going back.

“I’m sorry.” Peter says, empty. He finally gets to the balcony door. “Get home safe.”

@kingsten

#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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24hour-blues · 4 years ago

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all the ones you haven't answered yet? i'm sorry you're sad💙

thank you, that's very sweet. i hope you're doing alright 💛

1. when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? - more milk. i always end up putting too much.

2. do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? - yes

3. what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? - library receipts, post-its, junk mail, pencils

5. are you self-conscious of your smile? - i think it’s one of the few things i’m not self-conscious about, actually. i like my smile.

8. what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? - writing, often poetry but sometimes prose. i like creating playlists, too, and singing.

9. do you like singing/humming to yourself? - yeah, i sing to myself all the time. whatever song i have stuck in my head at the moment.

10. do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? - side, but very occasionally my stomach.

12. what’s your favorite planet? - jupiter

14. if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? - lots of pillows and blankets of all types. succulents and cacti on the windowsills. wooden utensils and dark cabinets in the kitchen. a breakfast bar with stools that don’t match. rugs with funky patterns. a big, soft couch in a bright color that you can sink into. a small balcony with fold-out chairs. rows of mugs and barely any plates. the bathroom crowded with makeup and skin products, writing on the mirror in blue marker. beds never made. a guitar in the corner of the sitting room.

15. go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! - there are more trees on earth than stars in the milky way

16. what’s your favorite pasta dish? - angel hair pasta with puttanesca sauce

18. tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. - i can’t think of anything...

19. do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? - everything. sometimes it’s big things, sometimes small. my fears and what i’m in love with. regrets. shame. hope.

20. what’s your favorite eye color? - grey

21. talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. - idk if it’s really my favorite, but my current backpack took me all through college and it’s good for storing stuff or using as an overnight bag. it’s from timberland and is a nice earthy brown with a flap over the top. lots of pockets.

22. are you a morning person? - i can be

23. what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? - make breakfast and tea. read or watch a movie that makes me rethink everything

25. what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? - a school, i think?

26. what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? - i haven’t had them forever, but i wear my doc martens with everything. i used to wear plain white keds with everything.

27. what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? - winter green

28. sunrise or sunset? - sunrise

30. think of it: have you ever been truly scared? - yes

31. what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. - i like soft, fluffy socks and ones with fun patterns. i love hiking socks. i don’t wear them to sleep tho.

32. tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. - i went to a waffle house at 5am with a friend and some friends of hers i’d just met on her birthday. we were all really drunk, the food took forever, and it tasted awful, but we were happy and laughing.

33. what’s your fave pastry? - probably a cinnamon roll

35. do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? - i like a good calligraphy pen and new notebooks. i don’t use them often; i feel like i don’t have anything important enough to write.

37. do you like keeping your room messy or clean? - it’s usually clean unless i’m not feeling well. sometimes i get disorganized.

38. tell us about your pet peeves! - overlapping conversations. people interrupting others. loud mouth noises, like chewing or licking. people criticizing my driving. nitpicky comments on my clothes or how i look. being talked about.

39. what color do you wear the most? - black, probably.

41. what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? - how it feels to float by helena fox

42. do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! - nope

43. who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? - i’m not sure

44. when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? - i can’t remember

45. do you trust your instincts a lot? - not really

46. tell us the worst pun you can think of. - i can’t remember it but something about pigeons and being coo-l

47. what food do you think should be banned from the universe? - bacon. i just wanna make people angry.

48. what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? - my dad told me a story once, about when i was a kid. he said that he and i were walking together near the lake in the neighborhood across from mine. i was holding his hand, and i said to him that this was the happiest time in my life because i wouldn't be the same when i grew out of being a child. i think i have the same fear now--that i'll never be that happy again.

49 do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

- i like records but i only have one. it's an album by ccr. i really like them

50. what’s an odd thing you collect?

- beer bottle caps

52. what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

- maybe those "girl..." text posts that just say stupid shit

53. have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

- watched them all but pulp fiction. i don't really remember heathers at all

55. what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

- lets not talk about that

57. go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

- not in the mood sorry

58. who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? - bri is wine mom. quincy and i are vodka aunt.

60. do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

- yes but i rarely remember favorites. i read so much and feel it then forget all the words

61. what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

- someone gave me a rock once. i get too nervous to give stupid gifts

62. do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

- orange or cranberry

63. are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

- i'm more fussy about music than books, but i do like my books organized. i like them worn in and well-read tho, not in perfect shape.

64. what color is the sky where you are right now?

- a fuzzy, light blue-grey. it's snowing

65. is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

- a few

66. what would your ideal flower crown look like?

- lots of green leaves in all different shapes and sizes. tiny white and blue flowers.

67. how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

- isolated and insignificant. safe

68. what’s winter like where you live?

- cold, grey, snowy.

69. what are your favorite board games?

- idk if i really too many board games. maybe cranium. i like puzzles more

71. what’s your favorite kind of tea?

- honey vanilla chamomile

72. are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

- yea and even then i forget.

73. what are some of your worst habits?

- i give up too easily

74. describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

- excitable. emotional. so very smart. creative as all hell. self-conscious where they shouldn't be. never runs out of words in the best way. loves to share.

75. tell us about your pets!

- my dog shiver is turning into a little old man, but he still acts like a puppy. he likes attention and whines to communicate. he'll greet you at the door and put his front paws on your thighs to say hi. follows you all around the house. loves to cuddle.

- my pigeon spirit is young and vocal. she coos for attention. when i go to sleep, she grunts every time i move to ask where i am and if i'm okay. i take showers with her and sit on the tile; she puffs up right into my side and sticks her wings out for me to splash water on her. she likes to be close to me to get neck scritches and push her head into my neck and preen every bit of me she can.

76. is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

- a lot probably

77. pink or yellow lemonade?

- limeade

78. are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

- i dunno they're cute

80. what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

- it's white wallpaper with pink roses along the top and ribbons of pink and green striped vertically. my mom chose it before i was born.

81. describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

- they sort of remind me of dark water where everything is reflected back in it--not just the sky but the trees and people walking--and they make you want to look closer because you know there's something in there, it's not just a reflection, like flat glass. but it's hidden until you dio your hand in the pictures broken.

82. are/were you good in school?

- pretty good

83. what’s some of your favorite album art?

- i don't look at albums

85. do you read comics? what are your faves?

- not really, but watchmen is one of my favorites.

86. do you like concept albums? which ones?

- dunno

88. are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

- um. idrk. i like whatever monet was doing.

91. where do you plan on traveling this year?

- maybe michigan

92. are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

- i like cheese

93. what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

- i just kind of. let it do whatever.

94. who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

- my uncle

95. what are your plans for this weekend?

- honestly have no clue

96. do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

- put them off until windows tells me it's restarting the computer in five minutes

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

- mb

98. when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

- in college with jacob, although i wouldn't really call it joking. we just walked through a state park. it was beautiful.

100. if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

- idk. i feel like i'd make the same mistakes if i went back, but the future scares me.

1 note · View note

adrenaline-roulette · 5 years ago

Text

A Permanent Deal

John Deacon x Reader

Warnings: None, just pure domestic Deaky fluff!

Preview: “Right, just promise me this isn’t going to become the new look for the band alright? I mean, Brian’s got enough hair already, and I’m not entirely sure Roger can even grow facial hair.” John shrugs.

“I don’t have that much hair.”

“Bri, we could shave you and have your hair turned into costumes for the entire cast of cats!”

The smell of chemicals filled John’s nose as he sat in a salon chair, a black smock draped over his shoulders and fastened securely at his neck. There was a brunette hair dresser stood behind him, attacking his hair with said chemicals, and Roger was sitting in the chair beside him, flipping through a cheap gossip magazine, occasionally grunting as he read an article. “It says here, that Brian is the most marriable…. And that I’m the most likely to die alone?!” Roger screeches, causing John to smirk. A hard tug at his hair quickly replaces the look with a frown though, as he curses the hairdresser under his breath.

“Why do you insist on reading articles about yourself? You know it’s all rubbish, right?” He sighs, watching Roger in the large mirror hanging before him. “What does it say about me? He asks, unable to keep his interest under wraps, these articles always made him laugh, because of their sheer stupidity.

Roger scans over the article quickly, before finding John’s name on the glossy paper, “Apparently you’re the most likely to have multiple girlfriends and never settle down.” He shrugs, wrinkling his nose at the words.

“Hm, well now that’s interesting. I’m sure (Y/N) and the kids would love to hear that.” John muses, as he watches his reflection, his hair being twisted up upon his scalp. “How do you think I should break the news that I have other women in my life? I could hire a skywriter?”

Roger scowls at him, placing the magazine down on his lap forcefully. “Deaky, I’m pretty sure that after you come home with a perm today, (Y/N) and your spawn won’t be at all surprised by anything that you say or do.”

John can’t help but nod in agreement, which causes the hairdresser to pull his hair harshly, to cease his movements. “She’s actually going to kill me when she sees this.” He sighs, drumming his long, calloused fingers against his jeans. Roger purses his lips as he mulls over his words, before nodding in agreement, and sign which doesn’t ease John’s nerves in the slightest.

“Excuse me Jane, your two o’clock is here.” Says a quiet voice of a blonde woman, who had suddenly appeared behind John’s stylist. She hums her acknowledgement, before turning towards the other woman.

“I’ll need you to finish Mr Deacon for me please, I don’t want to keep Mrs Gatten waiting.” The stylist, Jane, places her utensils down on her trolley, then looks back to John. “I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Lisa, she’ll get you all finished.” She smiles, before leaving for her next appointment.

Lisa sets up behind him, donning gloves to protect her skin from the chemicals that were required to perm John’s hair. She smiles happily at him, then turns her attention to Roger, biting her lip when he catches her eye, a blush flooding her cheeks rapidly. John rolls his eyes at the exchange, even married, Roger is still a flirt! “If you don’t mind me asking, why a perm? Out of all the styles you could’ve chosen, what made you pick this one?” Lisa asks gently, as she makes quick work of John’s hair.

“There was a bet.” John begins, before being interrupted by Roger. “Which he lost!” “Yes, thank you Rog. There was a bet, that I lost, and Roger decided that for my loss, I had to get a hair style of his choosing, and this is it.” He sighs, gesturing up to his half-permed head, a look of pure annoyance gracing his features.

“I would love to hear about the bet!” Lisa grins, focusing entirely on Roger, awaiting his explanation. He carefully folds the magazine, placing it down in the rack beside him, keeping the young woman in suspense.

**********************************************************************************

There was a deafening silence which had overtaken the usually bustling recording studio, which was shattered like glass when Brian coughed, causing everyone to be awoken from their trance like state. No one knew what to say, how could you possibly react to something like, like THAT? It was simple, John decided, you couldn’t. He would simply ignore the elephant in the room, that was the only thing for it.

Brian however, had other ideas entirely. “Freddie, you seem to have a caterpillar on your lip…” He chuckles, though even Brian can’t hide his surprise at the new look. It wasn’t objectionable per say, just highly unexpected.

“Well darlings, I figured it was time for a new look, and besides, I find I look rather dashing this way.” Freddie grins, his pearly white teeth showing as a sharp contrast between the dark bush of his moustache.

“Right, just promise me this isn’t going to become the new look for the band alright? I mean, Brian’s got enough hair already, and I’m not entirely sure Roger can even grow facial hair.” John shrugs, dodging with expert timing as Roger throws one of his drum sticks at his head. Freddie laughs joyfully at the exchange, while Brian folds his arms across his chest, blowing a stray curl away from his eyes.

“I don’t have that much hair.” Brian mutters, causing Freddie to fall into fits of laughter, practically rolling on the floor.

“Bri, we could shave you and have your hair turned into costumes for the entire cast of cats!” John smirks, as he picks up Roger’s thrown drum stick, twirling it between his fingers, as Roger had shown him years before. There’s a moment where it looks as if Brian was about to argue, though he quickly thinks better of doing so and turns back to his guitar, plucking at the strings aimlessly.

Roger looks across at John, his eyes trained on the drumstick held in his right hand, glaring slightly. John lifts his eyebrow in challenge back at the blonde man, “You can have it back, if you apologise for throwing it.” He smirks.

“I don’t have anything to apologies for! You’re the one who insulted me!” Roger cries out dramatically. John looks away, and catches Freddie rolling his eyes at the child like response.

“Children, please. Deaky, please return Roger’s drumstick, I would hate for him to start playing the bongos on this new track.” Freddie sighs, strolling his way over to the drum kit where the two men stood.

Begrudgingly, John hands Roger back the drumstick, both refusing to make eye contact. This was a frequent occurrence, with both men being far too stubborn for their own good. “Excellent, and now that the band is properly equipped again, we can record!” Freddie claps excitedly, rather like a school teacher who wanted the classes attention.

Freddie was the last to record for the new track, the bass, drums and guitar all having been laid down the previous few days, all that was required now were Freddie and Roger’s vocals to complete the track. As Freddie sang his heart out, the others gathered in the sound booth, watching him through the window, grinning as he hit every note perfectly. “So, what do we think of the moustache?” John asks quietly, as the recording technicians work their magic.

“I can’t lie, it’s starting to grow on me. I’m thinking that maybe I should grow a beard?” Roger chuckles, as Brian shoves his shoulder playfully, a wide grin spread across his lips.

“I suppose it isn’t one of his best looks, but he seems to love it…” Brian shrugs, as he lopes over to the well-worn couch at the back of the room, settling himself down on the green cushions.

John nods his agreement, turning his attention back to Freddie as the song comes to an end. “He always stands so close to the mic, I’m genuinely surprised he hasn’t eaten the thing yet.” Roger laughs deeply, gasping for breath just as Freddie enters the room, who casts a curious look at the gasping drummer.

“Roger darling, if you’re going to die, please do it quietly.” Freddie sighs, as he strides towards the sound desk, awaiting the playback to begin. One of the technicians starts the vocals, the booming voice of Mr Mercury pumping through the speakers. There’s an odd sound to the vocals however, a strange almost brushing noise sweeping across the mic. “What on earth is that?”

The band collectively turns their attention towards the technician. “I’m sorry Fred, but I think you were too close to the mic, and you kept brushing your moustache against it. We’re going to have to rerecord, this time with you a bit further away.”

Freddie looks shocked, and John is stuck between wanting to comfort his friend or laugh at his expense. Roger has already opted for the laugh option, while Brian seems to be facing the same decision as himself. John reaches a hand out, ready to place it upon Freddie’s shoulder, but just as he’s about to make contact, Freddie steps away, stomping back into the recording studio. “Well? Let’s bloody well do it darlings!” He calls.

John leans against the arm of the sofa where Brian had made himself comfortable, his long legs taking up the entire seat, leaving no room for anyone else. Roger doesn’t seem to find this an issue however, and promptly sits himself down atop Brian’s calves despite his protests. “Oh shut up will you Brian, I’m not that fucking heavy!” Roger grumbles, as he turns to John, taping him on the shoulder to get his attention. “So, about that moustache…”

“I’d be bloody surprised if it lasts a year at this rate! Especially if he has to keep rerecording everything because he can’t step back from the microphone!” John exclaims, gesturing wildly to the angry looking Freddie in the recording studio.

Roger’s eyes light up with glee, as he removes his ever-present sunglasses from his head, tucking them into the breast pocket of his shirt. “Wanna make a bet?”

John lifts an eyebrow down at the drummer, pursing his lips as he considers the offer, on the one hand, making bets with Roger could end in tears, though on the other hand, John felt he knew Freddie well enough to know the moustache wouldn’t be around for long. “You’re on. Winner gets to pick a new style for the loser.” He smirks, as their hands meet and shake twice. This was going to be good.

Roger grinned wickedly as their hands parted, Brian shaking his head softly at the look. “Deaky, you’re going to regret this I fear.” He sighed, as he opened the latest newspaper he could find, even that was a few weeks old though, flipping through the pages absent mindedly. John frowned slightly at Brian, he knew Freddie, this was just a phase, it wouldn’t last!

“I’d be bloody surprised if it lasts a year!” Was the phone call John had awoken to this morning, he was sure if he could see Roger, that he would be wearing a shit eating grin on the other end of the phone. He had been having a well needed sleep in, his arms wrapped securely around (Y/N)’s waist, her hair tickling his chin as she slept soundly in his embrace. Though now they were both wide awake, thanks to Roger’s phone call. Upon hearing the drummers voice on the line, John had promptly slammed the receiver down, cutting the conversation short, however he knew it wouldn’t be long before Roger either tried to call back, or better yet, showed up on John’s doorstep and forcefully dragged him out of the house.

A shrill cry from their young baby echoed through the house, causing both John and (Y/N) to grow more alert, as wakefulness overtook them. “Bloody Roger, I’ll kill him one day.” John hissed, as he rolled out of the duvet, shuffling his feet against the soft carpet, before pushing himself into a standing position. You rolled over onto your other side, watching as your husband stretched his arms above his head, exposing his midriff in the process.

“What did he want anyways? It’s unusual for someone as nocturnal as him to be conscious at this hour.” You laugh tiredly, sitting up against the headboard, pulling the sheet up to your chest to keep you warm. You recalled John mentioning something about being out with Roger today, though the details were fuzzy.

John turns back to look at you, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. “Just got some band stuff to do is all, he said he’d drive for a change. I guess he just wanted to see if I was awake yet?” He shrugged, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There was no real reason as to why he couldn’t tell you what he was doing, it was more the fact that he was too nervous to, you had always loved running your fingers through his hair, but with a perm, John feared those days may be over. “I’ll go and check on Joshua, see if it’s just the phone that woke him or something else.” John smiles, before leaving to go check on your young son.

You lack the energy to get out of bed and get moving for the day, however when your daughter Laura comes bouncing onto your bed, you find yourself eager to spend the day with her. “Come here you!” You laugh, as you wrap your arms around her torso, pulling her against your chest. She squeals as you do so, kicking her little legs as she flops against you.

“Can I help you make breakfast pretty please mommy?” Laura pleads, batting her long lashes up at you. You have no idea how she mastered that look, but you had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with her Uncle Roger.

You pretend to think over her request for a few moments, tapping your index finger to your chin. “Well, I suppose so.” You smile, as she launches herself off the bed, in a similar style to how she had arrived. Laura sings loudly as she skips out of your bedroom, and into the kitchen, knowing you wouldn’t be too far behind. Sliding out of bed, you wrap your nightgown around yourself, padding into the kitchen where your daughter was helping herself to a spoonful of peanut butter, she was definitely yours. You lift an eyebrow at her as you watch her clean off the spoon, carefully replacing the jar in the pantry, a cheeky grin on her round face. “We’ll pretend I didn’t see you do that, okay?”

Laura chuckles softly, following behind you as you move around the kitchen, collecting the necessary ingredients for pancakes. You would try and make them a little bit healthy, by adding on some fresh berries, though you knew both John and Laura would pick them off, opting for syrup instead. “Joshy!” Laura squeals, jumping up and down on the spot as John walks in carrying your son in his arms, using one hand to press his pacifier against his lips. The moment Joshua had been born, Laura had taken to him, spending as much time as humanly possible by his side. It was a lovely sight, though you did wonder how things would change as they grew older.

“Hey now, I thought you were helping me? How else am I supposed to transfer the pancakes when they’re cooked, without my little spatula holder?” You pout, watching the conflict cross Laura’s face. To stay with her brother, or help cook? That is the question.

“Go on, go help your mum. Josh will be right here when you’re finished.” John smiles, tilting his head in your direction for Laura to follow. Somewhat reluctantly, she returns to your side, though a large grin soon spreads over her face when you hand her back her prized spatula. She was far too young to help with the actual cooking, so instead Laura was given the very important task of moving each pancake from a plate you put them on, onto a plate for each individual person. Standing beside you, she wore the most serious face she could muster, holding her spatula in a death grip, waiting for the first pancake to be ready.

John moved around behind you in the dining room, strapping Josh into his high chair, and tying a bib around his neck. He was at the stage now, where he would eat bits and pieces of adult food, so long as they were soft, and in tiny pieces. Pancakes where one of his favourites, though even with nothing on them, he still managed to make a mess all over the place, making the bib more or less just for decoration. After getting Josh settled in his high chair, John headed back into the kitchen, to retrieve the maple syrup, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he passed you. His morning stubble scratched your face gently, causing you to scrunch up your face in protest. “Don’t worry. I’ll shave after breakfast.” He chuckled deeply, moving back into the dining room to keep Josh entertained.

It only took another fifteen minutes before all the batter had been turned into perfectly golden pancakes, with three on Laura’s plate, one on Josh’s, and the rest split between yourself and John. As you had predicted, the bowl of berries went mostly untouched, that was until you dumped a spoonful onto Laura’s plate, much to her distaste. Just as she’s about to protest, the front door bursts wide open, revealing a grinning Roger Taylor. “Morning Deaky, (Y/N)…”

“Uncle Roggie!” Laura screams, jumping out of her chair, and darting over to the blonde man before he can greet her. She wraps her arms around his legs, clinging to his jeans for dear life, as he leans down to pick her up, spinning her around in circles.

“Spawn of Deacon!” He chuckles, as your daughter laughs merrily, despite her growing dizziness.

“Careful there Rog, if you don’t stop spinning her, we’ll need to get out a mop.” You warn gently, feeding Josh a small bite of his pancake, grinning as he claps his pudgy hands together. John leans his chin against your shoulder, both watching your son with fond smiles.

Roger places Laura back on her feet, she grips his hand tightly as she attempts to stand still on the spot, waiting for the world to stop spinning around her. “Fair point, I’d rather not clean today thanks.” He shrugs, as he follows Laura further into the house, and into the dining room, stealing a pancake off of John’s plate.

“Um, excuse me? You break into my house, try to kidnap my daughter, then steal my food!” John grumbles, glaring at his bandmate as he bites into the stolen pancake.

“I didn’t break in, you gave me a key remember!” “A key that is only supposed to be used in emergencies!” John fights back, watching you from the corner of his eye. He could see you struggling not to laugh, your lower lip pressed between your teeth to fight against the smile threatening your features.

Roger rolls his eyes, licking the syrup off his fingers, before focusing intently on John. “This is an emergency Deaky, we have a deadline to meet remember?”

John wants to kill him, surely it wouldn’t be that hard to find a new drummer for Queen? “Roger, it’s our one day off before we’re back in the studio. Can’t you let me enjoy breakfast with my family? Just for ten minutes?”

The blonde considers his request for a moment, and for a split second, John thinks that maybe he’ll leave them be for a little while. “Nah mate, we’ve got places to be, people to see, and all that jazz.” Roger smirks, as he scoops a handful of berries into his palm. Laura watching him in fascination the entire time, she too leans across to scoop some berries into her own hand, though stops when you grab the spoon from her. It was rather frightening how much she idolised her Uncle Roger.

“Why don’t you just take the bloody bowl with you?” You muttered under your breath, it was just loud enough for Roger to hear however, and with a wink, he picks up the bowl, and walks to the front door with it.

“I’ll meet you at the car! Thanks for the bowl (Y/N)!” He yells, throwing a raspberry into the air, tilting his head back, then catching it in his mouth. “Bye spawn of Deacon!” He waves at Laura and Josh, your daughter waving back frantically.

John pushes himself away from the table, buttoning up a few buttons on his shirt, leaving the top few undone. “Sorry, it looks like I have to go now.” He sighs, leaning down and pressing soft kisses to your children’s cheeks. He kisses your lips gently, lingering slightly, both of you reluctant to part ways. The sound of Roger blasting his horn on the street is enough to make you part, both sighing deeply.

“Please make sure you get that bowl back. We’re down to five as it is, I really don’t want to go and get more just because Roger decided he wanted to keep one.”

“I’ll see what I can do, though I can’t make any promises.” John grins, pecking your lips once more, before leaving your home, heading out to Roger’s car, and sliding into the passenger seat. Roger was staring straight ahead, making no sign that he was aware of John’s presence. “(Y/N) Wants her bowl back.” Is all he says, causing Roger to break out into a grin.

“I love the fact that I steal her husband at nine in the morning, and all she’s worried about is a bloody bowl!” He howls with laughter, as he pulls out into the street, travelling down a route John was unfamiliar with. “What if I was about to murder you? Bet she would feel pretty bad about her last words to you being about a bowl.”

“I’m pretty sure she knows us well enough, to know that if you were going to murder me, you would do it on stage in front of millions of people, just so you could get your face on the front page one last time.” John shrugged, tapping his foot along to the beat of the music playing on the radio.

Roger remains silent for a few moments, mulling over John’s words. “You’re right, she does know us well.” He finally admits, before pulling up in front of a hair salon. “Alright then Deaky, time to get you looking beautiful!” Climbing out of the car, John swallows deeply as he looks at the images plastered on the windows of the salon. Women with brightly coloured hair, in varying degrees of length, pout on the posters, all advertising a product that could make you too look just like them. “Let’s go!”

**********************************************************************************

“And that’s how we ended up here.” Finishes Roger, who now had his feet propped up against the arm of John’s chair. During the retelling of their story, John had been moved over to a different section of the salon, to a seat where a large hair dryer had been lowered onto his head, allowing the chemicals to work their magic on his hair.

“You can come back over here now.” Lisa smiled, as she pulled the helmet off John, leading him back to his original seat. “Well it sounds like you all get up to a lot of mischief. On the plus side John, I think this is really going to suit you!” She smiled, as she began working her nimble fingers over his scalp, taking out the rollers that had been used to set his perm.

Roger watched eagerly, as John’s new hairdo slowly took shape. “See, I told you Deaky, you’re going to be a hit with all the ladies soon!” He grins, as he brushes his own hair away from his eyes, not wanting to obstruct his view in any way.

Twenty minutes later, Lisa removed the last roller, running her fingers through the tight ringlets that now bounced all around John’s head. They weren’t the same as Brian’s, though they were damned near similar, John finally understood why so many people accused Brian of having a perm. “So, they’ll stay quite tight for a few days, then they’ll loosen up a little bit and sit more naturally.” Lisa smiled, as she brushed his hair this way and that, until all the strands fell in a way, she deemed suitable.

“Thank you, I suppose. Now is this the time I ask about any rules when it comes to having hair like this?” John sighed softly, studying himself closely in the mirror, perhaps this style was growing on him? It didn’t look nearly as strange as he had thought it would, if anything, it rather suited him.

“Just make sure you don’t get it wet within the next seventy-two hours, otherwise all our hard work will be for naught.” She smiled, as she unclasped the smock from John’s neck, folding it neatly over her arm. Roger followed her up to the register, handing over a small bundle of notes.

“When news gets out about Deaky’s new look, reporters will be all over the place, looking for whoever styled him. Any chance you could maybe not mention anything about the bet?” Roger smiled, with what must be one of his only genuine smiles of the day.

Lisa smiled, taking the notes from Roger, placing some into the register, and a few into her pocket. “I’m sure I can remember to do that.” Was all she said, before Roger turned away to collect John. He groaned as he looked out the salon window, rain splattering heavily against the glass.

“Right then, Deaky come here.” Roger instructed, as John made his way over to him, resting his hands on his hips. “We can’t get your hair wet, so I’m going to walk behind you with a magazine over your head, alright?”

“You don’t trust me to protect my own hair?” John grumbled, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans.

Roger frowned at him, opening a magazine and creasing the spine to keep the pages open. “Do I trust you to not get your perm wet, thus rendering our time here pointless? Let me think about that…. Of course I bloody don’t!”

“We never said how long the style had to last. The bet was, that I just had to get the style. Technically I’ve fulfilled my end of the deal.” John shrugged, though he allows Roger to hold the magazine above his head as they make their way back to his car. Roger blasts the heater the moment he turns the key in the ignition, the car warming up in minutes, drying both men from their mad dash through the rain.

“Did your hair get wet?” Roger queries, as he pulls out into the main street again, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel despite their being no music, John just assumed he was working on another song. Carefully, John brushed his hands against his curled hair, feeling for any rain that may have made its way through his make shift umbrella.

“Sadly, I think it survived.” He smirked, watching as Roger gripped the steering wheel tighter, rolling his eyes.

“I paid good money for that perm Deaky, the least you can do is wear it with pride!”

John simply nodded along, opting to stare out the window, watching the scenery as it passed them by in a blur. There was no use in fighting about it, he had a perm now, that’s all there was to it. The drive home took far less time than John seemed to recall, and all too soon the car was parked out the front of Johns home. “I’m dead, I’m honest to God going to die today. She’s been home alone all day with the kids, she’ll be tired and stressed as it is, and then I walk in looking like this?” John mutters, gesturing to his hair wildly, as Roger resumes his position behind him, holding the magazine over his hair once more.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll love it.” Roger grins, using his emergency key to open their front door once again. Shoving John through the entry, causing him to stumble. In his effort to stop himself from falling over, he grabs onto the coat rack by the door, knocking the entire thing to the floor with a loud crash.

Your voice calls from down the hallway, echoing off the walls. “Who’s there?” There’s an edge of worry to your voice, and John is sure that you’ve grabbed both children, just on the off chance there was an intruder.

“It’s just me love!” John calls back, and he can almost hear you sigh in relief. Roger sweeps his hand before John, allowing him to enter the soon to be war zone first. “Oh, why thank you.” John hisses, his lip curling up into a snarl. Roger simply grins, running his hand through his blonde locks.

Each step seems to take John an hour to complete, bringing him closer to the lounge room where he had heard your voice. His heart races in his chest, pounding against his ribcage violently. Eventually he turns the corner, spotting you laying down, with Laura tucked into your side on the sofa, and Josh playing with his building blocks beside them on the rug. John’s shadow looms over his family, and your eyes snap up to look at him, a smile already tugging at your lips. It freezes the moment you see him though, your eyes widening at what you were looking at.

“Deacon spawn, come over here!” Roger yells abruptly, as he crashes in behind John, crouching down and opening his arms wide. Laura rolls off the sofa, leaving you behind, running into her uncle’s arms. He lifts her up, waltzing out of the room, and into the children’s play room.

“John Richard Deacon. What the hell have you done?” You bark out, leaping off the sofa, standing directly in front of your husband. John had the good dignity to look slightly guilty as you stared him down, shoving his hands into his pockets, his feet shuffling against the floor.

“Listen, (Y/N), I can explain!” John tries, but you hold your hand up in front of him, signalling him to stop talking.

“God, I can’t pay attention to anything else but you!” You sigh, looking directly at his perm, rather than his eyes. “What were you thinking? Were you even thinking?” You raise your voice, throwing your arms to your side in exasperation. You didn’t hate the look, you hated the fact that John hadn’t mentioned anything to you about doing it, and that Roger had clearly known what was happening long before you.

“Guys, your child is on fire!” Roger shrieks from the other end of the house, in his usual attempt at stopping you and John from bickering.

“Roger, shut up!” You both groan simultaneously, hearing Laura laugh loudly.

“One day, I’m going to say that, and your child really will be on fire, and you guys will look like the worst parents in the world!” He grumbles, though grins at Laura.

Laura doesn’t repay the look in kind, opting instead to fold her arms across her chest. “Is it me or Joshy going on fire?”

Roger looks down at the young child in surprise, not having expected her to ask such a question. “Why, neither of you of course! I mean another kid!”

Laura nods her head in earnest, grinning up at Roger. “Oh, so you mean maybe the baby in Mommy’s tummy will be on fire?”

Roger is, for the first time in a long while, completely lost for words. The sounds of his best mate, and his wife arguing in the kitchen are drowned out by the numerous thoughts running through his head. “What baby is that Laura?”

“Mommy told me to keep it a secret, but she won’t mind me telling you. She says I’m going to be a big sister two times!” Laura smiles, as she brushes the hair on her doll, handing one dressed as a princess to Roger. “You can be Giselle today.” And just like that, all baby talk is over, leaving Roger with far more questions than he started with.

John was leaning against the kitchen counter now, keeping his eyes on you as you paced around the tiled floor. “What next? First Freddie and his moustache, then Roger started bleaching his hair, now you get a perm! What’s the next step? Is Brian going to shave his head?”

As if on cue, Brian allows himself into their home, swinging the door shut behind himself, despite Freddie being right behind him. “What’s this about me now?” He calls, placing a bottle of wine down on the kitchen table as he passes it.

“Brian!” You cry, on the verge of tears, your emotions running on high. “Are you bald? Please tell me you’re not bald! Come take a look at what my bloody husband has done!” You shout in rapid fire succession.

John leans his head back, staring up at the ceiling, he didn’t expect you to get quite so worked up over this, and he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe something else had occurred today, to make you so stressed. Brain waves as he enters the kitchen, grinning widely as he spots John’s hair, folding his arms across his chest as he leans beside the bassist. “Am I bald? No love, this is all me.” He grins widely, shaking his wild mane of curls over his shoulders.

“Oh, thank God.” You breathe out, though that doesn’t stop you from reaching out and tugging on one of his curls, sighing when his hair stays in place. John reaches out, taking your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand soothingly. “Really though Brian, just look at this. How am I supposed to focus on anything when I’ve got this hanging around?”

“You make it sound like I’ve sprouted a second head. Besides, it’s really starting to grow on me.” John shrugs, pulling you into his side, and rubbing his curls against your cheek. You can’t help but giggle, the soft brush of his hair feeling rather pleasant.

For the fourth time that day, your front door slams open, and you make a mental note to take back all the emergency keys you had given to John’s band mates. Freddie struts through the hall, posing with his lips pouted as he enters the kitchen. “Well hello darlings, Roger said to meet him here, and dear lord! Deaky what have you done!” Freddie cries, the light leaving his usually sparkling eyes.

John sighs once again, pressing his palm to his forehead, causing Brian to chuckle deeply. “Freddie, calm down. I’ve already gone through this once. There was a bet Roger and I made, after you grew your moustache. I didn’t think it would last, Roger did. So we agreed that if it was still hanging around in a year then…”

Freddie holds his hand out, just as you had done earlier, and John stops mid-sentence. “I’m sorry Deaky, I love you. But I just can’t pay attention to anything that you’re saying! We’ll discuss your lack of faith in my moustache later.” And with that, Freddie turns on his heel, and glides back to the front door, shutting it firmly behind him.

“Well, that could have gone far better. With both of you.” John shrugs, staring at the spot where Freddie had been moments before, Brian nodding besides him.

“Hey, at least I didn’t leave!” You defend, resting a hand mindlessly over your stomach, scratching your nails against the material of your shirt.

“No, instead you just threatened to kill me! That’s so much better.” John huffed, lifting his hand away from his face, and looking over at you. You simply shrugged at his statement, at the end of the day, you hadn’t actually killed him.

Brian grins at your bickering, shaking his head at the sight of you both. You fought like children sometimes, yet always managed to make amends. “Is anyone else slightly concerned about how quiet Roger and Laura are being?” He queried, stepping through the kitchen and peering up the hall towards the playroom.

“Actually, yeah. I don’t like the silence.” John hummed, following behind Brian, you also followed, not wanting to be left behind. You knew they weren’t up to anything too horrible, generally when Laura and her uncle fell quiet, it was because they were drawing, a task which your daughter took very seriously.

As if they had heard you all wondering what they were up to, Roger came parading out with your giggling daughter on his shoulders, both with wide grins on their cheeky faces. “I know a secret about you.” Roger smirks, looking directly at you, his blue eyes shining brightly.

You roll your eyes at their antics, looking over at Josh as he clapped two blocks together, giggling at the clunking sound they made. “No you don’t Rog.” You sighed, shaking your head gently, curling your fingers around John’s. You felt his grip squeeze yours, his calloused fingers rough against your knuckles.

Roger turns his attention to John now, his canines poking over his lip as he grins, looking just like the Cheshire cat in that moment. “Hey John, I guarantee you that I know something about (Y/N) that you don’t.”

“Not likely mate, we’re practically joined at the hip. We know everything about each other.”

“Wanna make a bet?” Roger smirks darkly.

“Never again.”

My Masterlist

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