#dinner at fancy resort

[disneyfoodislove]

Dinner at Narcoossee’s at Disneys Grand Floridian Resort & Spa.

[groupwest]

my work is having a “staff event” in which they are staying overnight at seaworld resort like what the fuuuck. that sounds horrible. is that seriously what people do for fun. maybe id like to hang out with some of my coworkers but… god that just sounds like such an ordeal

[ianfulgar]

That night we had sushi in Dubai with @wilsonmaggie and @iamtimconnor and talked about making resort projects in Indonesia.

[elexaria]

three words: girl dad simon

when his first daughter was just a toddler, she used to scream the house down whenever mama tried to style her hair. hated wearing her hair up in a ponytail, hated wearing cute little bows. so, simon sits between his pregnant wife’s legs, letting her pop his shaggy blonde mop into two little ponytails. and it just makes his daughter SQUEAL with joy, she wants to look just like her dada!! a lot of the dads shoot him funny looks when he drops his kiddo off to nursery later on in the day, but truth be told most of the moms fancy him even more than usual.

when his girls get older, around 7-8 years old, they become OBSESSED with play makeup. mom’s in her office on an important work call, and there’s only so many times the girls can practise their skills on the plastic barbie head they got for christmas. it actually terrifies his wife when he knocks on her office door, head poking through a small gap to say “dinner’s ready, luv.”

and she has to do a double take because?? he looks like he’s a fugitive of cirque su soleil, patchy n chalky neon colours around his eyes, bright pink lips. “what?” he huffs out, a smirk tugging at his stripper-esque overlined lips. “testin’ out a new look for the field. good for hostage negotiatin’, innit?”

and when they hit teenagehood, his love still doesn’t end there for his girls. their first heartbreaks? he has to be reminded that, no, he can’t drive over and beat the shit out of the squeaky voiced boys that broke their hearts, so he resorts to other means. it’s a movie night, cheesy teen rom-coms playing in the living room, ordering some good grub— he even lets them put on a mud face pack on him, maybe even let them paint his nails funky colours.

because he’s a girl dad, and if that makes his baby girls smile, he’ll do that and more for them.

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Boss

Mob!Nico Hischier x Reader

Previous

Warnings: blood, violence, murder, Nico and reader fight a lot

A/n: Ok this one has a lot going on but I couldn't just skip over reader and Nico recovering from her being taken. The next chapter will be much sweeter, I swear!

Enjoy!

_____________________________________________________________

For the whole trip, every time Nico closed his eyes he could see it perfectly. The mountains in the back, snow capped and beautiful. You love the mountains in the winter, love the snow.

He’d make sure you’re wearing that cute red and white snowsuit you love, the one he’d gotten you for snowmobiling last year. He was gonna take you to get your nails done, help you pick out a cute pearly white color and then sit with you and let them paint a clear coat on his own finger nails and do the whole hand massage and oil thing. And he was gonna act like he hated it, like he was doing you a favor when I reality he loved it. All because it made you smile.

Then he was gonna take up the gondola, let you take selfies with him kissing your cheeks or squishing your cheeks together. Dinner at the resort, fancy and expensive and beautiful, all things you deserve.

When the sun started to set, alpenglow hitting the peaks of the mountain you’d have the perfect view from the private table. And he get down on his knee, just like you asked, and pull out the ring he’d had made specifically for you by the watchmaker he loves, and tell you everything. Tell you how much he loves you, how you steady him and make everything seem so easy, how you quiet his mind and make his heart race, how you took a stupid, rich teenage boy and turned him into a man he is proud to be.

And he’d ask you to marry him. And you’d say yes, obviously. He’d slide the ring on and kiss you, hold your pretty face between his palms until the sun set and he could take you home, kiss you even more. Spread you out on the bed and fuck you until the sun rose again in the morning.

It was going to be perfect.

He thinks of that as he stares at your left hand, ring finger bare and cold in his palm. This time tomorrow and you would’ve had your ring, the third item to solidify not only your place in his life, but in the Devs.

That’s the order him and the others agreed on for partners year ago. The pendant of the Devil, to show that you’re protected by them. The ring engraved with your name and little flames, always worn on the right pinky by members but anywhere on the body for partners. Yours sits around the chain on your neck, clinks against the pendant. It shows that you’re one of them, a member of the family.

And finally the wedding ring, the thing that gives you his last name and his power. It shows his love for you. The most important one of all.

The sudden blimp of the heart monitor scares him, has him jolting to his feet and squeezing your hand as he looks to the screen. Your heart rates keeps spiking, beeping loudly in the room and he manages to catch your right hand as you reach up for your neck.

“You’re ok, you’re ok,” he quickly soothes, preventing you from touching the brace the doctors strapped around your neck.

Your eyes are wide and terrified when they meet his, gaze darting between his eyes in confusion and panic. Your lips part to speak but he shushes you before you do.

“No baby don’t talk, it’s ok.” He squeezes your hands, brings them back down to the hospital bed. “You’re just a little swollen, ok? The brace is to help bring it down.”

He waits for you to calm down, the monitor slowing back to normal before letting go. You inhale shakily through your nose, breath quivering when you exhale.

Smoothing your hair down, he rests his free hand against the side of your head and looks you over. Despite the bandage on your forehead and the puffiness of your eyes, you look so beautiful. If he ignores the brace and the cotton, you don’t even look hurt.

His heart squeezes.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” he whispers, feeling physically itchy with guilt. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, I should’ve listened to you and taken you right home.”

Tears build up in your waterline, taunting him and he starts shaking his head. He really does not want to see you cry.

“Sorry,” you whisper instead, voice raw and hoarse. He’s not sure if you’re even supposed to be talking, the doctors didn’t tell him. “I know better, should’ve stayed with you.”

Chest aching, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, being mindful of any injuries he may bump. “We’ll talk about it when you’re better, yeah? You can tell me what happened.”

He pulls back to see you stiffly nod, as best you can around the brace. Wiping away the stray tear on your cheek, he huffs out a breath and tries to relax.

It’s impossible.

“I’m gonna get a nurse,” he steps back, turning to find the call button. Your hand latches around his like a vice, body jolting up in the bed and he freezes, finger hovering over the phone symbol.

You look a little confused by your own actions, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, but your eyes tell him everything. They always have.

You’re scared.

A part of him melts knowing that in moments of fear you want him, that you see him as safety and protection. It’s not anything new, but Nico likes the reminder. It means he’s doing something right.

The rest of him just feels angry. He’s so fucking angry that he let this happen, that he let his stubbornness and rejection get you hurt.

“M’right here,” he swears, “was just gonna use the call button.”

Sheepishly, you nod and lay back against the pillows, watchful gaze following him as he presses on the button.

The nurse enters your private room, smiling when she sees that you’re up and coherent. Nico has to let go of your hand so she can check your vitals again but he stays planted right next to your head, watching over you.

She takes your blood pressure, asking you about how you’re feeling and letting you know that you can try to speak normally. There’s no drastic damage to your vocal cords, and use will help make sure you get your voice back.

Nico listens in but takes a second to text Timo and his family that you’re awake and talking. He’s not sure where Luca has taken Marcelo and Lena, but he assumes his brother will find time to stop by and let him know.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

He puts his phone away, immediately tuning back into the conversation. The nurse is shining a light in your eyes, your dark pupil following it but he sees the confusion that clouds them all the same.

“I was at a party,” you reply, clearing your throat and wincing. You take a second to think, blinking when the nurse turns the light off. “I was at a party and-and I was mad at Nico and I didn’t know what anyone was saying…”

Nico thinks of Anna and her friends, confused because he knows she would translate for you and make sure to speak you to in English. Part of the reason he was ok with separating from you was because he trusts her to be watchful.

“I just needed a second of quiet so I went outside…” you continue “and then I remember a lot of blood and feeling really sick. And Nico was there.”

It’s terrible but he relaxes a bit after hearing that. Obviously it’s not great that you don’t remember; that means your head injury was pretty bad, but on the other hand he doesn’t want you remembering that.

It’s bad enough you remember him shooting Lena.

“Ok, good.” The nurse compliments. “That’s a great start. It’s typical that as you recover more memories will come back to you. There’s not really a time table for when but just keep that in mind.”

She goes over a few more things with you, making sure Nico is listening since you might have trouble remembering. He waits for her to leave before pulling out his phone, writing down the reminders in his notes apps even though he knows he won't forget.

He tucks it back in his pocket, looks up to see you watching him with sad eyes. "You look miserable," you say, reaching out towards him. Stepping closer, he lets you take a hold of his arm and pull him into sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Didn't think you'd remember me shooting Lena," he explains "I don't like when you see those things."

Your hand runs up his bicep and around his shoulder, finding the ends of his hair on the nape of his neck. "I'm glad," you say, a tiny smile on your lips. "I hate her."

"Yeah," he agrees, smiling a bit too.

"Did you kill her?"

He shakes his head. "Marcello?"

"No, not sure what Luca did with them yet."

You go quiet, fingers playing with his hair but your eyes get that far away look in them. "I get to do it," you finally murmur, eyes flickering up to his face. He can't stop the look of surprise on his face, eyebrows shooting up.

"If you decide to do something, I get to do it. At least to Marcello."

"No," Nico immediately declines, impressed by your request but not even considering it. "I'm not putting your prints on anything around that."

"You don't get to decide." you argue, eyes narrowing into a threatening look. "I'm the one laying in the hospital bed, I get to decide."

He scoffs back a laugh, feels the scold on the tip of his tongue because he's in charge, not you. Yeah he lets you pull him around a lot, but when it comes to people from his past, in his home country, hurting you? That's his to deal with.

"M'not budging on this y/n," he says instead "and I'm not fighting with you about it. I don't want you near them."

Your mad, he knows that. Can tell by the bratty way you roll your eyes, your hand falling from his hair as you cross your arms over your chest and turn your glare to the window. Even the tick of your jaw, knows your biting at the inside of your cheek.

Luckily the tension between you two is cut after a moment because Timo comes barreling into the room with a bag of goodies and Nico's siblings following behind him.

"Bestie boo," he cheers, and Nico rises from the bed to get out of the way. He doesn't miss the way you light up, all the fight in you dissipating as you too grin at Timo.

He begins to dump out the contents of the bag, a few drinks and snacks that you like, a fuzzy blanket from Nico's room back at the house and some clothes for you. Nico shakes his head, moving over to hug Nina and Luca.

"How's she doing?" Nina asks him quietly, glancing over at you and Timo. Luca leans in, wanting to listen in without letting you overhear.

"She's ok," Nico sighs, "been through worse but she's scared and a little confused still. Doesn't really remember what happened before we got there."

Nina frowns sympathetically. "Did she ask-"

"Yeah, she asked about them." He grumbles, rolling his eyes. "She wants to take care of Marcello but I don't want her near them so we gotta do it before she's released tomorrow."

Luca's eyes widen, an amused smile splitting his face. "Really? I underestimated her little bro. Maybe we should let her-"

"No."

"Come on Nico, its her right-"

"I said no." Both Luca and Nina step back at his tone, not used to hearing him like that. In all fairness, they haven't seen him this protective over something since he was 8 and found a stray cat on his walk home from school.

He clears his throat, rolls out the tension in his shoulders. "We're gonna do it tonight. Nina will stay here with her, make sure she's ok until I get back."

Zeroing in on his sister, he points back towards you. "Under no circumstance do you let her know what we're doing. And no matter how bratty and whiny she gets about it- because she will- do you sign her out early. I mean it Nina, no sisterhood here or whatever, she stays in that bed."

It's obvious she doesn't agree with him, the way she guiltily looks over his shoulder at you but either way she nods. "Understood, Nico."

"I'll tell Maja to come back her up," Luca says, "She won't crack like this one will."

Nico nods, thanking them before motioning over to you. The three siblings move closer, stand around the bed as Timo offers you his list of favorite movies to watch while your stuck in bed. You've laid the blanket out on your lap, the teddy bear from Nico's childhood bedroom squished under your elbow, and an open pint of Gelato in hand. Timo blabbers away, you lick at the spoon in hand, and just nod along.

You look happy. Eyes shining and cheeks smiling, and it's such a relief to Nico. Maybe he should leave Timo here with you, at least then you'll have a distraction you actually like. Unfortunately he needs his second hand man for this one, so you'll just have to deal.

Nina climbs up onto the bottom of the bed, adding her one thoughts on the movie Timo is gushing about and Luca takes over the chair at your bedside.

He smiles, reaches up to push back your hair and press the lightest kiss possible to your hairline. You ignore him, taking another bite of your dessert and laughing at something his sister says. Luca has dug out a spoon from somewhere, and he's reaching around Timo to steal from your pint.

You tilt it towards him, eyes widening when he takes a huge glob out and shoves it in his cheeks, smiling innocently. Nico can tell it'd coffee flavored now, your favorite, and he reaches for the spoon in your hand only for you to snatch it away.

Then your shooting him a cold look over your shoulder, simply tilting your head when he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you. You turn back towards Timo, ignoring how both Luca and Nina are looking between you two with concern.

He huffs, clicks his jaw and looks at his sister.

Brat, he mouths, shaking his head when you share a bite with Timo this time. What is he going to do with you?

~~~~

The nurse comes back a few hours later. Your squished on the bed with Nina, laptop hooked up to the TV and watching a movie about rowing that Timo really liked. Him and Nico have folded the couch down into a bed, and they're sprawled out on it eating chips watching as well. Luca fell asleep about ten minutes in, sock clad feet propped up on your bed and head rolled back on the chair.

You're all so engrossed in the movie you don't notice her at first. At least until the lights are flickering back on and everyone is temporarily blinded.

Shooting up like their asses are on fire, Timo clambers to his feet and pauses the movie. Nico rises, shoving his feet back in his shoes and walking over to you bedside.

"Sorry to interrupt, I just came to see how you're feeling and offer to take that brace for you."

Sighing out in relief. "Oh god yes please," you practically beg, sitting up. Nina slips off the bed and over by Timo, motioning for a bleary eyed Luca to follow. He yawns, smacks his lips before getting up and dragging his feet over.

"We're uh gonna step out." Timo offers, turning towards the door and pushing Nico's siblings out with him. He shakes his head, watches them all leave the room without their shoes.

"It must be nice, having so many friends around." The nurse comments, pulling on latex gloves.

"Yeah," you agree, "I'd be miserable laying here all day without them."

Nico stands over you again, protective and watchful as the nurse steps up to your side and reached towards the brace.

"It's gonna be sore and uncomfortable, but the swelling should be gone for the most part," she informs and you nod. "I am going to bring you an ice pack to keep on it just for comfort and it'll help with bruising."

You take a deep breath, nod again and her fingers latch on the velcro in the back. Squeezing your eyes shut, the sound of the velcro unsticking cuts through the room and you jump just the slightest bit.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining and you squeeze hard enough that your nails pinch at his skin. Not that he cares, not when the brace falls loose and away from your neck, and he's coming face to face with the lines of bruising.

It looks awful, all dark blue and purple. You wince, the column of your throat flinching and Nico thinks he might throw up. Fuck, he doesn't even know how you've been talking and laughing so much with that kind of injury.

Finally, you open your eyes and let out a shaky breath. Titling your head up, you let the nurse gently feel over the tender flesh. You squeeze his hand tighter, looking up at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

"You're hurting her," Nico grumbles, and the nurse removes her hands.

"I'm ok," you swear, "really you didn't have to-"

"Yeah you did," Nico cuts in, shooting you a warning look. "Let her at least ice it before you go poking around."

Pursing her lips, the nurse inhales and nods. "I'll be back with ice," she tells you, taking the brace with her. "but you're looking really good so far. It could've been a lot worse."

Neither you nor Nico speak until she's left the room. The door clicks shut and you're taking your hand out of his, instead tucking them under your arms.

"She's just doing her job," you mumble, staring ahead rather than at him. He huffs, annoyance bubbling under his skin and he rakes his hands through his hair.

"Ok you can be mad at me," he grits, "but you don't get to act like this. If you're gonna be a brat go ahead, but not in front of everyone like that. I'm trying to look out for you-"

"I can take care of myself!"

"You obviously can't!" He exclaims, a little harsher than he meant to but it gets the point across because you're actually looking at him right now. "Look at where we are, y/n. You couldn't take care of yourself, fuck even I couldn't take care of you."

Your eyes shift, realization setting in. "Nico..."

"Be mad at me, baby, please do but until we're back home I'm in charge. And I'm not taking any fucking chances."

His chest is heaving when he's done, guilt settling into the place of the anger when he looks at your stupidly soft eyes and the bruises that marr your skin.

You don't say anything for a moment, and he rubs at his forehead where he's got a headache building. "I want to take a shower," you finally say. "Will you sit in there with me?"

He nods. "Yeah of course."

~~~~

Timo, Luca, and Nina have returned to the room when Nico follows you out of the bathroom. Someone has made your bed for you, the fuzzy blanket you love laid out nicely with the teddy bear tucked against the pillows. You've changed into sweats and one of Nico's shirts, already feeling better now that you're clean and back in your own clothes.

You can tell the moment they register the bruises on your neck and the stitches on your forehead. It's like all the air is sucked out of the room, the sharp inhale of Nina rattling you.

Shrinking into yourself, you force a small smile as you climb back onto the bed. You can feel Nico glaring at them over your head, biting back a laugh when it has the same effect on his older siblings as it does his men. He's so good at bossing people around.

"It'll look better when I ice it," you say, combing through your damp hair. Nico runs a hand up your spine, gingerly holds the back of your neck.

"It looks fine now," he responds, "trust me, nothing could ever make you look not beautiful."

You tilt your head back, meeting his gaze and smiling gratefully. He ducks down, kisses between your eyes before taking the brush for you and finishing untangling you hair.

"The only one of us that looks pathetic with bruises is Nico," Timo jokes, sending you a wink. "That's why they take months to go away on him."

"That and he's always pressing on them." You respond, giggling when Nico scoffs behind you.

"I forgot to tell him to grab your bathroom stuff," Nico changes the subject "so I don't have any of your hair products."

"That's ok-"

"I can braid your hair for you!" Nina offers, smiling widely. "I love to braid other people's hair and I never get to. "

You laugh. "Yeah okay!"

Nico moves out the way, handing the hair brush and a tie to his sister. She stands behind you, carefully dragging the brush through your hair again. Nico sits at the foot of the bed, watching his sister with apprehensive eyes.

"Watch out for her stitches Nina."

You roll your eyes. "I know Nico," she scoffs, "I am older than you, ya know?"

He holds his hands up in defense but stays exactly where he is. Thankfully Nina is really careful when she parts and braids your hair, leaving it loose so it'll still dry but also not pull at your stitches. The soothing motion of her fingers and Nico's protective gaze lull you, and by the time she's done your blinking sluggishly at your boyfriend.

"Alright," he grunts, rising from the bed. "I think it's nap time for you baby."

There's something off about him when he helps you slip under the blankets, tucking his teddy bear into your chest and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He exchanges an odd look with his brother before perching on the edge of the bed, cupping the side of your face in his warm palm.

You yawn, snuggle into his hold. "M'gonna put the TV back on for you, ok?"

Eyes fluttering, you nod.

"I gotta run for a bit but I'll be back before you know it. And you can call me if you need absolutely anything."

The thing about Nico is that he never likes to tell the full story. He's not usually like that with you but with the younger boys, yeah. And you can always tell when he does it because he gets all calm and sweet about it, more than he usually is. He also gets vague.

Which is how you know this run he is taking, obviously with his brother, is to take care of Lena and Marcello. Hurt, you sit up and look at him with knowing eyes, hoping he'll cave and tell you the truth.

Instead he clears his throat, looks down at his feet and then runs his hands over his thighs. "I uh, I put Luca's number in your phone too, just in case." He says, getting up and moving around the room to collect his things.

Crouching down, he hits play on the laptop for you. You look over at Timo, see the guilty pull on his face. Luca looks guilty too but when he meets your gaze, he winks and then sticks his tongue out at his brother.

"Good, get outta here." Nina cuts in, voice far too cheery to be believable. "We need girl time, I'm inviting Maja."

Nico's tucking his wallet back into his jeans pocket when he finally looks at you again, jaw ticking when you simply stare back at him with begging eyes. You want to yell at him, to cry, to tell him that you deserve to have a place in this. That you need this.

Instead you bite your tongue, turn your gaze to the window outside when your eyes sting, and silently wait for them to leave. You hear him sigh, then his footsteps as he heads towards the door. Timo is the only one to call out goodbye.

Feeling betrayed, you ignore them all, even Nina, and close your eyes. You have a headache again.

~~~~

You wake up from the insistent buzzing of your phone, sleep riddled brain assuming it’s Nico. When you read the screen it’s not in fact your boyfriend, but might as well be.

“Hey Holtzy,” you answer, looking around the hospital room. Nina and Maja are nowhere to be seen, but neither are Nico and Timo. Your stomach twists, anger bubbling in your throat.

“Oh god you sound awful,” he moans woefully. “I told Nico he should’ve let me go too. With three of us there you’d have been fine.”

“I am fine,” you insist, forcing a laugh. “It’s really not that bad, Nico is just dramatic.”

“Well yeah he’d probably die without you.”

Your heart warms. The boys used to always tell you how tough he was, how the only thing that kept them from messing up was that terrifying flare in his eyes when he’s pissed. It’s sweet that they point out how loving he is with you.

“You’d all die without me,” you reply, looking up as Nina and Maja enter the room. They carrying bags of food, Nina waving around the packages in greeting.

Forcing a smile, you gently wave back. If her and Maja are still here that means Nico is still gone. And it’s been hours. There’s only one thing a man that protective and angry can be doing for this long.

Wreaking havoc. Havoc you should be a part of. You bite your cheek.

“Oh yeah,” Alex agrees easily. He gets quiet for a moment. “Can I FaceTime you? Just to see that you’re ok?”

You melt. “Yeah of course.”

Pulling the phone back from your ear, you hit the FaceTime button. It rings for a half second and then a grainy picture of Alex pops up.

“Hi mom,” he greets, the picture coming into focus. He’s got that big, cheesy Alex smile on his face and it’s makes you laugh.

“Shut up,” you giggle, then realize the background behind him. “Are you in my room?”

Alex pulls the phone back, holding it up so you can see that he’s actually tucked under the blankets like he’s sleeping there. You catch a flash of the paws of the dog at his feet. At least you know he’s actually taking care of your baby.

“You asked me to house sit.”

“I thought you might sleep in the room I decorated and made for you.”

“I like your bed,” he shrugs, putting the phone back down. “And I miss you. And Nico too I guess but don’t tell him in your bed. Wait- he’s not listening right?”

You laugh again. “No he’s not here right now. I’m with his sisters.”

"He's not with you? That's fucked. I'll go out right now and sit there with you. So will Merc and Luke, they told me."

A part of you wants to say yes. "I'll be ok. You know how Nico is, I probably won't see him again until it's time to go home."

Alex makes a noise of disagreement. “Timo made it seem like you were dying, ya know? Like I thought we were about to be taken out to Switzerland to wage war, he was so angry.”

You shrug, flattered but mostly annoyed. “Yeah, I like that idea."

Alex hums, the line going quiet for a moment. “Well I’m really glad you’re ok,” he murmurs “and I’m sorry it happened to you. I can’t imagine how scary that would be.”

You shrug again. “I mean, worse has happened. Besides, I knew what I was getting into when I got with Nico. It’s just a part of the life.”

“Crappy though, that it always happens to you.” He comments.

“Only twice,” you awkwardly laugh. “Besides, I got Johnny out of it the last time so.”

“So even though it was worse at least you got your Italian buddy.”

You nod, trying not to think about the run in with the Flyers all that time ago. Honestly, you’re lucky that as the girlfriend of a very powerful mob boss, you haven’t been taken and threaten more. You suppose that’s a testament to Nico and how he trains his men.

“Ok I know it’s late there so go to bed, yeah? I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Alex sighs but nods. “Ok, call me if you get sad or lonely.”

You bite back a laugh, knowing he’s the one that’s lonely and wants to talk but won’t admit it. “Of course,” you agree. “Night Holtzy.”

“Night y/n. Feel better.”

You wave, waiting for him to hang up first. When he does you drop your phone to the bed, expectantly looking over at the girls.

If they can read your gaze, they don’t say anything about it. Instead Maja tilts her head sympathetically. “How are you doing sweets?”

“Fine,” you respond, raising an eyebrow at Nina who is pointedly avoiding your eyes. “Nico still gone?”

Frowning, she looks at you guiltily. Her eyes look so much like Nico’s. “Yeah he’s still out.”

You nod, checking the time, wishing you were home. You already miss Alex. It's torture, sitting and stewing in this bed as you go over and over the words you should've told Nico. You feel helpless, almost as helpless as being tied to a fucking chair. Especially when you go to get up from bed and both Nina and Maja rise too.

They're under orders from Nico. They're your security guards. You almost roll your eyes, veins hot with rage and disbelief.

"I was just gonna go for a walk." You say.

"We'll come with!"

"No, that's ok," you decline, tilting your head, daring Nina to argue. "I have a headache and just need quiet. Besides your eating, I'll only be ten minutes."

She hesitates, shares a look with Maja but eventually they both settle back onto the couch. You think Nico and her might have underestimated how scary you can be when you're enraged.

Without another word, you grab and phone and make your way out of the room. You go slow, not wanting to worry them but truth is you feel fine aside from the head and neck pain.

Waiting until your a few corridors away from your room, you pull out your phone and pull up Luca's contact. You hit call, holding it up to your ear. It rings for awhile but he does pick up.

"Well hello there," he greets smugly. "I had a feeling this was coming."

You smirk, pleased to know you gauged him correctly. "Don't act too chummy, Nico will know it's me." You warn, looking around for Nina or Maja. No one has followed you.

"I need a favor."

You can hear his delighted smile even if you can't see it.

"Hit me with the plan, then."

~~~~

The plan comes through the next morning. Nico has yet to return from his "business" and you know he must be taking it seriously because he's yet to notice that late last night you had his jet fly to Newark and back, this time with your men onboard.

Luca, as the king of Switzerland, used his pull to get you discharged early, hours earlier than Nico had originally planned. You're already up and silently packing your things when the doctor comes in with the discharge forms. The click of the door wakes Nina from her slumber on the couch bed, and she sits up all bleary eyed and confused, looking around the room with confusion.

You don't even bother greeting the doctor, just take the form and sign it, stuffing the recovery papers in your bag.

"What's going on?"

You look over your shoulder at her. "I'm going home early," you say, tucking your phone into your pocket. Nina quickly gets up, stumbling to find her shoes.

"You can't-"

"If you and Nico want to play games with me, that's fine." You cut off harshly, "but I can play them back. Rat me out, call Nico, I don't care, you're not stopping me."

"Y/n..." she sighs sadly, and you're a little disappointed in her lack of fight. Turning around, you cross your arms and glare at her.

"You of all people should get it Nina," you scold "I deserve to fight this fight for myself. I was the one hurt, not Nico or you or Timo. I gave up my whole fucking life, my family for this and no matter how much I train or help out you still think it's ok for Nico to stick me with a babysitter and lie to me?

"I'm just as capable as the rest of you."

Nina looks guilty, her features melting down into one of shame and you'd maybe feel bad if you weren't so upset.

"I- I'm not gonna call Nico," Nina murmurs, "you're right, you deserve to see them at the least so go ahead. Just let me know if you need anything ok?"

"Thank you," you say earnestly. "I'll keep you updated."

She quickly walks over, gently hugs you and strokes through your hair. "Be safe, be smart."

You grin, nodding in agreement before stalking out the room. Luca has arranged for a car to pick up Mercer, Luke, Jack, and Alex from the airport, and that car sits outside the hospital doors when you step out.

The windows are tinted so dark you can't see through them, but Mercer rolls down the passenger seat window to grin at you. You light up at the sight of his gapped smile, laughing as you yank open the doors and climb in.

"Why hello boys," you greet, turning around to smile at the triplets in the back. Alex reaches forward, ruffles your hair.

"Good to see ya boss." Jack greets, kneeing the back of your seat.

"Where are we heading?"

You roll up the window, punch in the address to the house you've been staying at. "Need a quick stop to change and get my things, then we've got ourselves a hot date."

Mercer pulls out onto the road, smirking devilishly as he does so.

~~~~

Luca's funny, you'll give him that. He's left Lena and Marcello and whatever other aiders and abetters locked up in the same house they'd taken you too. The car Nico and Timo have been driving around is parked in the drive, and you and the boys pull up next to it and hop out.

"Everything should be in the trunk," you instruct, knowing Luca left it unlocked. Sure enough when Jack pulls the hatch open, an array of guns, ropes, knives, and weapons are splayed out.

The boys are all eager as they choose their guns, Luke giggling goofily as he stocks up on ammo. You let them all pick first, tying the signature red bandana around the tender skin of your throat. They've all knotted theirs around the meat of their thigh, bright against their black jeans.

You take a pistol and three rounds of ammo, stuffing them into the black cargos you put on earlier. Just in case, you hook a medium sized knife on the waistband too. The sleek and thin tranquilizing gun they never use slips easily into your waistband too.

"Alright, we're going around back. Luca's left a window open that Jack can slip through to let us in the door. I'll lead us down to the basement and you'll follow my lead."

Lined up like soldiers, they all nod in agreement.

"Any instructions from Nico go unheard, you're with me and will follow my orders. If he tries to fight us, I will take care of it."

"Yes boss," they chirp in unison and you can't help but smirk. Nico has trained them well, you'll give him that. Too bad he also trained them to be loyal to you too.

You don't remember much about the house, just that the floors were white when you got there, and red when you left. In a way it's nice that you don't remember, it makes it easier to step inside and silently cross the large room. The chair you'd been tied to is nowhere to be seen, but the large pool of dried, flaking blood still is. You're unsure of how much of it is yours and how much of it is Lena's.

The boys are bit too heavy footed on the staircase down to the basement, so by the time you're stepping through the threshold all eyes are already watching. Both Nico and Timo are armed, the barrel of their guns trained on you. Luca is holding his lazily, looking proud when you meet his gaze, your own pistol in hand.

Nico's eyes are furious. You've never seen them so black, so enraged before and it makes you're blood boil. You're very confident you can out-anger him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He demands, but you ignore him, instead looking around the room. The floor is a dull, cement grey color with drains. There's doors to other hallways or rooms, you assume, most likely holding places for hostages. You don't need to explore them luckily, because the two people of concern are chained on their knees at your boyfriend's feet anyway.

"Let me in or I'm jumping down the stairs," Jack comments behind you, and you catch the way Nico bawks, obviously recognizing the voice. Motioning behind you for them to follow, you take a few steps further in. One-by-one they file in, lining up next to you with their guns in hand.

"Are you-fuck y/n..." Nico's staggering for words, clicking the safety back on his gun and shoving it his waistband behind his back Timo does the same, but Luca just casually waves his at you.

You meet the burning gaze of Nico, take in how splotchy his cheeks have gotten, how his eyebrows scrunch and teeth clench. He's got that mean flare of his nose and curl of his lips, but you don't care.

He angers even more at your lack of response, snarling as he steps forward and you can already sense him reaching out to take ahold of your wrist. You flinch, step back and lifting your pistol towards him. It's on safety, he knows that, you know that. But the motion stops him all the same.

Freezing, he narrows his eyes at you. It's a cruel look, mocking and cold. "You're not gonna shoot me, sweetheart."

You shrug, tucking the gun away on the holster o your thigh. Nico smirks, amused and condescending. The look doesn't last long, not after you draw out the tranquilizing and aim at the thick part of his thigh.

"You must think I'm really fucking stupid, huh?" you spit, so angry you feel like you're vibrating. You don't give him the chance to respond. "A fragile little lapdog of a mob wife, stuck in a locked room with a fucking babysitter. Laying around and waiting for you to fix everything."

The pause in your words gives him a chance to speak. "I left you somewhere safe," he hisses "I left you in the best place to be dotted on and cared for while you get better! I-"

"You lied to me!" You yell, "you looked me in the eye and said you had errands to run, that you'd be back soon. And you knew I didn't believe it, you knew how much it fucking hurt and you still did it!"

He scoffs, shaking his head and you know he's trying to blow you off, trying to take control of everything like he always does. Clicking his tongue he looks behind you at the boys.

"Take her and get out," he barks, letting his gaze linger on all of them. When they don't budge, he gets angrier.

"Now, you little shits! You shouldn't even be here!"

Loyal, none of them move. You tilt your head, smug when he looks at you.

"Aim," you instruct, and as if they were being controlled by puppet strings, all four boys lift their weapons and aim at Nico's feet. Shocked, he looks around bewildered.

"You see, when I told them that their boss had left abandoned me at the hospital for hours to keep me from fighting my own battles, they were pissed. I mean everyone knows how you've been training me, how hard you and Timo have been pushing me so that Philly never happens again, and then you take away something I've earned, well they were upset.

"Rightfully so since they're my men as well."

Nico looks around for help, shooting Timo and Luca a look as if to say "what the fuck is happening?". He must read his brother really well though, because his shoulders tense when he sees Luca's sparkling eyes.

"Luca, you didn't," he sighs, "tell me you're not in on this."

The older Hischier purses his lips, waits a moment before taking a step over to join you. "She had a good plan," he defends "and good reasoning for being here."

Lining up next to the boys, Luca joins them in aiming at Timo's feet.

"I know you don't get it Nico," you comment "I know you think that you were doing the right thing, that you were protecting me. But you never even stopped to consider what this means for me.

"I've spent so many nights dreaming about Philly, I wake up with my hands numb from all the times I've imagined fighting back, proving myself. Because it was humiliating and dehumanizing, and I'll never get the revenge I deserve for what happened."

Your words have stalled him, shaken him if the softening brown of his eyes is anything to go by. If there's anyone that loathes Philly as much as you do, it's Nico.

"Almost as humiliating as having my supposed fiance lie to my face in front of his whole family, force my best friend to turn his back on me, treat me like some broken little girl.

"I'm not broken, I can handle this life, I chose this life. And you don't get to decide when and where I can actually be a part of it."

Knowing you've got him, you tuck away the tranquilizing gun in exchange for your pistol. Clicking the safety off, you step towards Nico. He looks almost ashamed now, like a puppy that's been kicked and scolded too many times.

"Did you stop for a moment and think that maybe I'd get my memories back if I got to come here again? If I got to see them? That maybe I can piece together what happened if I looked them in the eye one last time?"

Embarrassed, he shakes his head and reaches out for your hip. "I don't want you to remember, I don't want you knowing how they hurt you."

Stepping away from him, you scoff. "You don't get to choose that Nico! I deserve to know everything."

With a flick of your hand over your shoulder, the boys all follow closer behind you, their weapons pushing Nico off to the side so you can step around him.

"I also deserve to keep my promise." You murmur, finally taking in the two kneeling before you. They look awful. Marcello, bloodied and bruised, shaking on the cement floor. He doesn't even look up at you.

Lena on the other hand does, not as badly beaten as her cohort, but her lip is split open and there's an old ratty bandage around her thigh, blood stained and brown.

She's crying when she meets your gaze, begging and pathetic, and it makes you laugh. You don't break eye contact as you aim the gun at Marcello.

"I did say I'd be the one putting the bullet between his eyes, didn't I?"

You don't wait for her to answer, finger easily finding the trigger and with a ringing bang, Marcello slumps to the floor. Lena screams, wails harder and harder.

"Y/n, please. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

You lock the gun and put it away, cutting her off with a gentle shush. "I'm not gonna kill you," you tell her. "I'm not even gonna touch you. It's beneath me really.

"Making bad people suffer, however isn't. So I have a plan for you, with the help of my brother-in -law back there that controls all of Switzerland."

Lena sniffles, hiccuping and shaking her head.

"As of now you're no longer a Swiss citizen. You and you're family have been exiled, away from Europe and away from North America. And when I unchain you and I fix up that thigh of yours, you gonna be escorted out without a single belonging. In fact, I think your parents have just been deported.

"Anyway, you're going to hobble out of here and be grateful that I'm such a forgiving person. Because I should kill you, for what you did to me, for what you did to Nico, using him like that. Instead you'll spend the rest of your life poor and pathetic, and when you think of me you'll remember that not only am I sleeping with the Jersey king every night, but the Swiss one takes orders from me as well."

Glaring, you turn to Mercer and nod towards Lena. "Unchain her and take her upstairs, I know a real cozy spot she can wait in while I finish up."

~~~~

You've calmed down by the time you finish cleaning and stitching up Lena's bullet wound. So has Nico, who's standing by the open hatch of the car, head hanging low as he changes out of his stained and dirty shirt.

He looks up when he hears your footsteps, everything in his gaze hurt and sad. You imagine you look the exact same.

You pause in front of him, begin unloading the weapons from your pants. "You left me there overnight," you mumble, placing the guns and ammo back where they belong.

"I was trying to hurry, I promise."

"No you weren't" you laugh humorlessly "because you were mad and hurt, and I was hurt, so you wanted them to hurt even more." He doesn't even deny it.

"I had a nightmare," you admit, voice wobbling. "that I was back here and everytime you got close enough to me, I'd blink and it'd be Marcello instead. It really sucked to wake up and not be able to tell if it was a dream, because you still weren't there."

Nico sniffles and you look up to find him standing over you, eyes glossy and red-rimmed. "I had to do something," he explains, voice cracking. "I was so fucking angry and guilty I thought I was gonna explode. And I didn't want you seeing me like that."

You frown. "I'm not scared of you Nico, ever."

"You might have been, if you saw the way I tore through everyone in there."

"When are you going to understand that I'll always pick you, I'll always be on your side? Even when you pull shit like this?"

His hands find your hips, drawing you the slightest bit closer to him. "When are you going to understand that I love you more than anything in the world? That I get mean and tough because I'd literally fucking die without you, and that's scary. And I don't know how to show you that, so I do it by protecting you."

You reach out for his shoulders, let your fingers feel the smooth skin of him, pink and cold in the winter air. "You can protect me and still let me rule by your side," you tell him. "I didn't want to come here and hurt them, interfere with you. But I needed to see it, for myself."

Nico nods, his wet eyes searching your face. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should've let you fight with me, be a brat whatever. Most of the time it's for my own good anyway."

"Yeah it is," you smile. "and I'm still upset."

He sniffles, blinking rapidly as a tear slips down his cheek. "I'll make it up to you, shoot me with the stupid dart or whatever you want. Lesson learned."

You laugh a bit at that, lean in to brush your nose against his. "I make a pretty good prinzessin, huh?"

Biting his lip, he smirks. "A fucking sexy one too. Not used to my pillow prinzessin walking all over me like that, but it looked good on you."

"It was tiring," you mumble, eyelashes fluttering. "I don't think I'd like to do it all the time."

"No?" He hums, "That's ok, you can just fill in for me whenever you feel like it."

"Ok," you agree, and then your pressing your lips to his for what feels like the first time in years. He's soft and warm, licking teasingly at your bottom lip and then dipping his tongue in when you part your mouth for him.

Nico always kisses you like honey, no fight is ever gonna change that.

Next

[liightsout]

guilty as sin? - daniel ricciardo x reader

(part one)

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✯ pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader ✯

✯ word count: 3.6k ✯

✯ content warnings: light swearing, alcohol consumption, abusive/unhealthy relationship ✯

✯ now playing: guilty as sin? - taylor swift ✯

✯ masterlist ✯

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Drownin’ in the Blue Nile, he sent me Downtown Lights, I hadn’t heard it in a while” 

You stared down at the phone in your hands. It felt as though the notification was mocking you. A teasing taunt that stung like a million paper cuts. You hadn’t spoken to Danny in years, but this one message from him still had the ability to send you reeling. 

Danny: this came on shuffle, made me think of you 

He’d sent you a screenshot of his Spotify showing what he was listening to. Downtown Lights by The Blue Nile. You opened up the app for yourself and pressed play. The gentle tones were like a magic key that unlocked the gates that held back the memories from all those years ago. 

You remember the first time he played you this song. You’d been on a night out for a mutual friend, Rosie’s, birthday and had ended up back at his apartment, you were both tipsy and not quite ready for bed. He poured you a glass of wine and showed you his favourite songs. You’d stayed up till the early morning sharing secrets and what felt like you every thought. No one had ever made you smile the way that he had that night. No one had made you laugh more.  

You were sure that the memories from that night would be engraved in your mind for the rest of your life. Lingering stares and hands that touched for a moment too long in the dark haze of the nightclub. The way his eyes never faltered from yours as he asked if you wanted to go back to his place. The way his strong hand felt on the small of your back as he guided you from the club and onto the street. 

He has a girlfriend, you reminded yourself as you sat next to him in the back of the taxi. You had tried to drown out your thoughts and focus on the way his fingers tapped against the side of his leg as a distraction. It didn’t work. You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to slip your smaller hand into his larger one. How his fingers would feel intertwined with yours. 

You swore to yourself that nothing would happen. You weren’t a home wrecker. You simply just couldn’t pull yourself away from Danny’s magnetic aura. From the moment your eyes had locked earlier that night it was like the pair of you were playing a strategic game of chess. You’d lost the moment you felt his fingertips against your skin. It was innocent enough, but it felt like more. 

Your friends had made sure you couldn’t forget about his girlfriend, even if you had tried. Each time they’d asked him why she hadn’t joined them that evening he would shrug his shoulders and brush their questions off like a professional, giving excuses of “she’s busy” or “ she’s out of town”. You never found out why she wasn’t with him that night, but you had a good idea. He had told you bits and pieces about his girlfriend, enough to see it was clear that it was a difficult subject for him. He wasn’t sure how long they would last. They were too different, and while it was fine at the start of their relationship, 9 months in the cracks were starting to show. 

She liked the finer things in life; fancy dinners and holidays in the most exclusive resorts. He liked being at home in Australia on his ranch, riding around on quad bikes and spending time with his family. 

It was safe to say that night the two of you had gone from friendly acquaintances to good friends. 

You remember feeling relieved and quietly disappointed that you had kept the promise you had made to yourself. Nothing had happened. But why did it feel like it had? 

“What the fuck are you listening to?” your boyfriend's disapproving tone felt more insulting than usual. He didn’t give you a chance to answer. It didn't matter anyway. Even if he had, how would you defend yourself without confessing the meaning behind the song? How could you possibly explain why this was one of your favourite songs of all time, despite it being so far from what you usually listened to. 

“Sorry Evan, I’ll turn it over now.” 

“My boredom’s bone deep, this cage was once just fine” 

You had met Evan a few weeks after that night at Danny’s apartment. You had been trying desperately to shake the thought of the Aussie from your memory, and were failing horribly at doing so. 

One of your close friends had been dating one of Evan’s. Your friend had assured you that Evan was the perfect guy for you. Every time she had brought it up you had declined, memories of Danny clouding your judgement. A few weeks of radio silence from Danny made it clear to you that that night had meant far more to you than it had to him. For that reason you had begrudgingly agreed to a blind date. 

The first night you met Evan you thought he was charming. Not as charming as Danny. 

He held your hand as he walked you to your apartment after the date. He kissed your cheek and told you he thought you were beautiful. You prayed to feel the butterflies fill your stomach the way it had when Danny as much as glanced in your general direction. The butterflies never came. You had concluded that it was better to be safe than starry eyed. 

Being with Evan was easy; simple. 

He wasn’t what you’d typically look for in a boyfriend. You were used to scruffy beards, oversized t-shirts and trainers. Evan wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but a perfectly crisp white shirt and tie. 

He grew up in a wealthy family, appearances were everything to him. 

He worked in finance. You remembered thinking that Danny would laugh and call him a finance bro if he ever met him. You could picture yourself holding back laughter at how uncomfortable Danny’s outgoing persona would make Evan feel. He’d cringe at his humour and roll his eyes at his jokes. 

During weekdays Evan was out of the apartment by 7AM and rarely home before 9PM. He smelt like whiskey and cigarette smoke on the nights he would get home later. You didn’t bother asking him where he’d been. It wasn’t worth the argument. 

He spent his weekends playing golf or drinking with his friends. You had gotten used to time alone. You enjoyed the silence more than Evan’s moaning and rude comments. 

In the early days he’d take you on dates to the most expensive restaurants almost every night. He’d treat you to weekends away in countries you’d only dreamt of being able to visit. The website you had read online told you he had “love bombed” you. You wish you had seen the signs at the start of the relationship, but it was nice to feel wanted for a change. 

You felt like you were living someone else's life the majority of the time. It wasn’t that you felt you didn't deserve the finest things the world had to offer, it was something else entirely. It was only now you realised it was that you never felt at home in Evan’s world. 

In recent months you had started to call him out on his lack of ability to make time for you. He’d always bring home flowers as an apology. Arguments were reconciled by a blue Tiffany’s gift bag being left on your bed for you to find after he’d left to go to work the next day. You had a growing jewellery collection that screamed this relationship is failing. 

You felt it was too soon in your relationship for cracks like these to be showing. Surely these were issues couples stumbled into later on in life? Although, your relationship had been a fast paced one. Within 6 months of dating and Evan calling you his girlfriend you had been living together. Perhaps that was why the end felt like it had arrived sooner than it should have. You’d jumped too quick into something that wasn’t built to last, and now you had to suffer the consequences. 

“Am I allowed to cry?” 

Alone - that's how you found yourself on a Saturday night. An empty bottle of wine on the table in front of you. Taylor Swift’s saddest songs echoing throughout the empty apartment. 

Tonight’s argument with Evan had started the minute he had gotten home from golf with his friends. He was drunk and in a bad mood. 

You should have known better than to point out the lipstick smudge on his cheek, but it had happened one too many times recently and your patience had worn thin. 

“Are you really accusing me of that shit right now?” his mocking jeer had come at you like a stab to the gut. 

Was he right? Were you crazy to suggest that he would cheat on you? 

“I’m gonna leave you to think very carefully about what you’re insinuating right now. I’ll be back later, hopefully you’ll have gotten over whatever mood you’re in” he had said to you as he slammed the apartment door. 

“I dream of crackin’ locks, throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks” 

It was funny to you that a luxury apartment could feel like a prison cell. 

Your whole life you’d dreamt of living in a space like this. Large windows overlooking the city skyline, high ceilings and parquet floors. 

Nothing in the apartment belonged to you. You’d asked Evan if you could buy some furniture pieces of your own, to put your own mark on your shared home. He’d reminded you quickly that it was his apartment, not yours. You were a guest here and he made sure that you knew it. 

It was only now that you realised that this was not what you wanted for yourself, not really. 

You dreamt of throwing it all away, the fancy apartment, the obnoxious boyfriend, the fake friends. 

You longed for people who knew you. People who wanted to spend time with you. You’d fallen out of touch with a lot of your old friends when you’d started dating Evan. At the time you’d found it romantic to be swept up in a whirlwind romance. You knew now it was nothing more than a manipulative tactic to get you alone and all to himself. 

“Crashing into him tonight, he’s a paradox” 

Summer time in Monaco was one of the most incredible things you’d ever experienced. If you hadn’t gained much from the relationship with Evan, you were glad that you’d gained that. 

You’d been a few times since being with Evan. He went more frequently, of course, weekends away with the guys, business trips and such. You were shocked when he’d suggested you join him for his friend James’ birthday weekend in Monte Carlo. Despite not necessarily wishing to spend your weekend off work surrounded by his snotty friends and their girlfriends who barely spoke to you, you knew you couldn’t pass up the chance to go back to the country that you had fallen in love with. 

Usually you’d be annoyed that since arriving at the hotel you were staying in, Evan had all but forgotten you existed. He had left the minute you’d put your bags down in the foyer, letting you know he was going to meet the lads in the casino. He’d not been back to the hotel since, only sending a few messages letting you know what he was up to. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to be that bothered by his behaviour. His absence meant you had gotten to explore the city more and treat yourself to some well deserved R&R. You’d walked along the beach and lost yourself in the winding streets of the city. You felt happier than you had in months. 

It all came crashing down later that night. Evan had brought you to his friend's villa for the official birthday party of the weekend. He’d only given you an hour's notice to get yourself ready for the evening, you’d been quietly annoyed that he’d neglected to tell you sooner. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him over it, not anymore. He didn’t, however, forget to remind you to dress presentably. Your eyes had rolled so hard at the statement you felt they could have fallen out the side of your head. 

Still, you had taken extra time taming your beach ready waves and styled it into a pretty updo that you knew Evan liked. Your lips were covered in the lipstick that Evan had told you was his favourite on you when you’d first started dating. He didn’t notice, or if he had, he didn’t care enough to say anything. You weren’t sure which was worse. 

You had picked out your favourite sundress you had brought with you. You felt it was the perfect combination of relaxed and presentable. It made you feel pretty. Even if Evan had given you a side eye the second you’d stepped out of the bedroom and declared you were ready to go. 

The villa was crammed with people that you didn’t know, it was a nightmare scenario for you. Your fingers gripped the wine glass in your hands, the chilled surface of the glass cooling the clammy heat that was sticking to your palms. 

You didn’t know where Evan was. He’d kissed your cheek the minute you’d walked into the building and told you he was off to find his friends. You didn’t really understand why he had brought you here in the first place. It wasn’t to show you off, that much was obvious. 

The patio out the back of the villa was a welcome sanctuary from the stuffy air inside. The minute you’d stepped out into the cooler evening air you felt instant relief. 

Your eyes searched around, looking for an empty seat you could hide yourself away on as you took tentative steps across the stone deck. Your attention skewed by the overwhelming view of the city that the garden looked out onto. The view of the ocean combined with the setting sun was breathtaking. 

You felt yourself collide with someone before you saw it happening. Strong hands gripped your upper arms preventing you from toppling over onto the floor. The wine in your glass had spilled out onto your dress, you could feel the cool liquid seeping through to your skin. 

Your eyes adjusted as you pulled back from the body you had collided with. Strong hands that had once gripped against your skin had fallen away as your eyes locked with the man in front of you. 

“Danny?” his name fell from your lips as a question rather than a greeting. Brown eyes stared into yours as his signature grin spread across his face. 

“I think I should be more confused about you being here than me, no?” the Aussie spoke with a teasing glint to his voice. You had missed his voice. The look of confusion stayed firmly planted on your face. You considered formulating a response, but it felt as though every word you wanted to speak was getting caught up in your throat. 

“What I mean to say is, how is it that I’ve not seen you in years, and now you show up here at some random blokes birthday party that I am sure you don’t know?” Danny elaborated. That playful smirk still dancing across his lips. You watched as his eyes shamelessly looked you up and down; you couldn’t stop the blush that you were sure was spreading across the tops of your cheeks.

“Yeah, I definitely don’t know the birthday boy,” you said with a laugh. “How come you’re here?” The question served as a good deflection. You didn’t want to speak to Danny about Evan. If you did he might stop looking at you the way he was right now. 

“Never took you for a gate crasher. I’ve been dragged here by Max, he wanted some company because he knew everyone here would be ridiculously boring, finance bros or something… didn’t really take that as your scene either?” Danny replied as he guided you both to the bench next to them. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. He’d hit the nail on the head there. 

You both fell immediately back into old habits. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting on that bench talking, but judging by the darkness that had now spread across the sky and the cold chill in the air, it had been at least a few hours. 

You took the time to study Danny. He hadn’t changed much in the time since you’d last seen him. He was still the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on. Sun kissed tanned skin, dark tousled curls, glowing brown eyes, scruffy beard styled to perfection and a couple more tattoos on his arms. 

You were ripped from your thoughts by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching you both. You didn’t need to look up, you knew who it was. 

“Urm babe, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere” Evan said as he stood next to you. You watched as his eyes darted between Danny and yourself. You sensed the Aussie tense up beside you. You felt bad, you should have told him you had a boyfriend. But you revelled in those hours spent with Danny, pretending that Evan didn’t exist. 

“Sorry, I bumped into an old friend and we got talking, lost track of time” you quickly apologised, the smile dropping from your face as you looked up at your boyfriend. He was pissed. 

“Friend?” the word came from his lips with a slight laugh. Great, you thought. He was drunk and pissed off. And now mocking the thought of you even having a friend at this ridiculous party. A braver woman would have cussed him out for that. You didn't feel brave, you felt embarrassed. 

“Yeah mate, friend. I don’t think we’ve met? I’m Danny” he said as he stood up to greet your boyfriend. Danny was at least 4 inches taller than Evan, and bigger in stature. Being a professional athlete, you knew that Danny was fit, but standing next to Evan it was clear to see the physical advantage he had on him. You hoped Evan felt intimidated. 

Danny’s face hadn’t faltered since Evan had interrupted the two of you. His look was firm, but polite enough, the signature beaming smile you loved so much was absent from his face. It was clear he was annoyed, you suspected he was pissed at you for not mentioning the fact you had a boyfriend. 

Evan choked out his name as he held out his hand for the Aussie to shake. You hoped he felt embarrassed for making such a scene, but you knew him better than that. Years of entitlement meant that he rarely was embarrassed by his own actions. 

“So, how do you two know each other? I didn’t know you had friends in Monaco babe?” Evan’s tone was accusatory. He clearly thought you were lying. You also realised that he had no idea who Danny was. If he knew he was a rich, famous, successful athlete he would have shifted into networking mode. 

“We’ve been friends for years, we haven’t seen each other  in a while so we had a lot to catch up on. Sorry to keep her from you mate, I presumed she was here alone seeing as you’d not been anywhere in sight for the last few hours” Danny replied. The apology was laced with judgement. He was clearly unhappy to see that your boyfriend had all but abandoned you. He was mad, but not at you. You could tell by the way his eyes had softened as they connected with yours once he was done staring down Evan. 

“Well, sorry to interrupt the big reunion, but we’re heading off. I’ll meet you out front babe,” Evan spat at you as he turned and stormed back into the villa. You felt your body sigh in relief as you watched his figure disappear. Sheepishly you turned and faced Danny, your brain trying to find the right words to apologise for Evan’s behaviour. 

“I’m so sorry about him Danny, he’s just drunk and annoyed, not that that’s an excuse… I’m sorry for not mentioning him before, I should have said something-” you were cut off by Danny’s warm hand grabbing yours. You felt the air catch in your throat as his fingers found yours. The cool metal of his rings felt like ice against your skin. 

“Please don’t apologise for him being an asshole, that’s all on him. And you don’t need to apologise for not saying anything about having a boyfriend. I’ll be totally honest, I kind of already knew…” his words trailed off as a sly smile appeared on his face. Words failed you as you nodded your head, a signal for him to explain himself. 

“I may have stalked your Instagram a couple times, and I saw Rosie a few months back in the paddock. I asked her how you were doing and she mentioned that you had a boyfriend now. She misses you y’know?” the Aussie said, the last part was whispered. You felt the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You missed Rosie. You missed your old life. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything in return. You suspected that Danny knew all he needed to know by your glossy eyes and shaky hands. 

“It was nice seeing you Danny” you said to him as a parting farewell. His hand squeezed yours gently before you pulled away from him. 

You walked through the villa towards Evan who waited for you out front. You couldn’t help but feel like you were walking away from the one man you should have been running towards.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

✯ authors note: hey lovelies! i have been OBSESSED with this song since TTPD dropped, probably one of my favourite taylor songs ever.

this is part one of two, there will then be a few other chapters relating to the same story based on other songs from TTPD, kind of like a mini series of sorts!

not sure if anyone cares, but fear not, i have not abandoned the blue! i just needed to write something else as well.

hope you enjoy this, as always, comments/messages etc are so appreciated and i love receiving them.

speak soon, love you all! ✯

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard, Part 3

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 7300

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, lol slow burn, ust

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The delicious food in your belly, regardless of who cooked it, had turned you into a completely different person.

Suddenly the storm raging outside wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to you. You were alive, right? You were safe and you weren’t being eaten alive by man-eating spiders. Sure, you weren’t sitting on a beach enjoying a pina colada, but there was a tall, handsome man in this bunker kitchen with a blender, whipping up some mixed drinks that involved fresh fruit, something sweet and something sour, something red and orange, lots of ice, and even more rum. Javier looked up from his blender and sent you the smallest, secret and obviously flirtatious wink.

What? You gasped.

You had been staring, a bit lost in your own mind as whatever blood that had been in your brain was otherwise occupied with digesting your dinner, and you have to admit, you hadn’t at all expected it.

You’d been watching him work some magic with a…thing, a smashing thing, something involving the peels from the citrus he had been squeezing. Your cocktail lexicon was lacking. You hadn’t at all expected the wink and it felt so quick and sneaky that you felt a warmth creep up your cheeks that you covered with both of your hands as you looked away from him, glancing around yourself for witnesses. This wasn’t allowed, right? Was this kind of behavior typical for the Sinking Sands Resort?

A single pair of large, dark brown eyes watched you and those eyelids blinked slowly without the owner actually saying or doing anything. There wasn’t a scoff or an eye roll. He just watched you. He just knew it happened.

You could not name this feeling that filled up your stomach.

He had seen the wink. Maybe it was shame. It was uncomfortable. He had witnessed a man paying attention to you. That was not the issue, but he had seen your blushing reaction to the wink. He witnessed you caving so easily, a little attention from a man, from any man, and you were a melting, blushing mess. What must he think? That you weren’t the strong independent woman that the year 2024 demanded of you? That you were probably the type to sign away your checking and savings accounts to the first man could make you orgasm on the first try? That if someone saw you, but really, really saw you for who you were, deep down inside where your secret fantasies played, you might just cry about it in the shower in between all the fake arguments that you would have won if you only said that back then.

What was it called? The horrors of being known. And by Doh Kyungsoo of all people. The last thing you needed was that man knowing how desperate you felt for any bit of human affection. Your fingertips still ached from where you’d lightly touched the backs of his hands and drifted up his smooth forearms, sinking your fingertips into the firm muscles you felt there, as you used, probably the only chance you’d ever have to really stare at his lips while he was blindfolded.

What if he used it against you?

The blender whirled to life and soon Javier was serving up an icy blended cocktail, complete with a sweet cherry on top and a paper umbrella. He placed the whole pretty concoction in front of you with a friendly smile and you waited until his hands were free and clear of the entire drink before you reached for it, feeling quite silly for going out of your way to avoid touching his hands. While he was conventionally handsome, you had some reservations about openly flirting with the man who was technically at work. What if he got in trouble for being too friendly with the Shifting Sands guests.

The drink was delicious and very heavy on the alcohol. Javier was not the one paying for those fancy liquor bottles.

“How’s that?” Javier asked while wiping the counter top and wiggling his eyebrows up on his handsome face.

You bit your lip and nodded once, just one up and down. Tilting your head to the side, you tucked your hair behind your ear so anyone who might want to could get a good look at the smooth perfection of your neck. The top you wore was pretty low cut and while it gave the illusion of casual wear, it actually took an incredible amount of self awareness to keep it positioned in the most flattering place on your neckline. You then smiled your softest, sweetest smile, letting him know that it was just to your liking with a very dainty sip of the drink. You were aiming for cute. You sipped with too much conviction and the sip backfired. You felt the burn of the strong alcohol hit the back of your throat and instantly that burning made you want to cough. Ohhh, it burned.

There was no way to cough in a ladylike way. You held your breath instead and you could feel your eyes watering from the effort.

“I’ll make you something Mr. Doh. Are you a sweet, strong, or bitter kind of man?”

If ever a man was bitter…

“I’ll have the same thing,” Kyungsoo said with a shrug. You didn’t dare look in his direction for fear that he was observing you too closely again. Gathering dirt, most likely. You could make out his relaxed posture out of your peripheral vision. Elbow on the counter, his other arm draped across his thigh.

That arm moved though, and you caught a motion of him tucking his hair behind his ear; his hair that wasn’t even long enough to tuck, his hair that fell, black and straight just below his eyebrow and yet he pretended to tuck it and he then adopted a similar come hither posture with his shoulders sagged, his head tilted to the side and oh god. He was mocking you now. You were looking at him as he did it and his teasing eyes drifted to yours once, sending you the fakest, and most dramatic wink you’d ever received from anyone.

You’d stab him in the night time.

“Let’s see if I can make it without squeezing lemon in my eye again,” Javier giggled and lifted his index finger to rub over his eyelid — the winking eye —the fucking flirtatious winking eye that sent sweet and secretive suggestive signals at you earlier and you suddenly realized wasn’t a wink at all — ohhhh. Ohhh no. You were a fool. Worse, you were a fool with a witness. The shock brought the cough out of you. It was a loud, full-bodied, very un-maidenlike cough. You sounded burly. Like a 5 pack a day smoker.

Beside you, a loud snort of laughter broke through your coughing and in your peripheral vision, you could see him actually shaking as he openly laughed at you.

“Be careful with that lemon, Javier. Someone might think you were flirting with them, right, Princess?” Kyungsoo had angled his torso toward you — a better position for making fun of you as he sought your confession of what you’d just thought was taking place between you and this poor man behind the counter who was literally just trying to do his job, not the guests. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows wagged suggestively and his grin was wide and all too knowing.

You could feel the warmth of embarrassment on your face just below the surface of your skin.

You swallowed the burning alcohol in your mouth and did your best to steady the expression on your face.

You lifted your chin and you rolled your eyes, and then openly glared at the man, simply unable to come up with a single response that would save your ego. You might have even let out a threatening growl in his direction.

No, Javier hadn’t been flirting with you. No, there were no other men here who were eligible and interested in you. You’d learned earlier that Mr. Chen was a married man and devoted father of two little girls. Jun and Roxy had been an item for quite some time. Javier was more enamored with impressing the aloof Chef Doh, and well, Kyungsoo — he was winding down with his laughter but that didn’t mean he was about to stop torturing you anytime soon.

There was nothing and no one for you here. The rain outside had been steadily falling for quite some time now and you suddenly longed for an escape. The sound of the wind had died down a while ago and you longed to feel the coolness of the refreshing raindrops on your face. Maybe while you were out there a tornado would carry you far away from this jerk.

“I’m going to have a look outside. I want to go for a walk. I am going outside. Is there a way to go out?”

Kyungsoo was still watching you, his very own drink in hand and his mean words at your expense ever freely flowing from his stupid mouth.

“You sound like a dog that is slowly learning how to talk,” he muttered under his breath.

You inhaled a deep calming breath.

He’d picked up a big yellow lemon and was holding it up in front of his face like it was a ball he was about to throw. A teasing, shit-eating grin was plastered across his face.

If you could just smack him, only once. You’d make it a really good one.

His lips pursed and his voice lifted higher and sweeter.

“Does my Princess wanna go play with the ball outside?” He said it, but the second it was out he seemed to freeze in place.

“You —,” you gasped, fully caught off-guard by the usually cruel nickname said in that way — said with his falsely sweet voice and with all of his fake affection attached to it. You felt betrayed by your subconscious to be having a surge of this uninvited feeling simply because instead of with his usual disgust, he addressed you with — with — as if you were his Princess — the butterflies were quick to flutter up inside of you but you were just as quick with another swift gulp of this drink to shove them deep down inside your belly where they needed to stay.

My Princess

Pl—Please…it was laughable if it wasn't so damned impossible.

My Princess

As if —

You breathed in and out through several exasperated scoffs, each one more convincing than the last.

“You —” you swallowed the drink angrily, “sound like an ass—”

“Mr. Doh,” Sara’s voice called out, interrupting the bottom barrel scraping level insult you were about to hurl his way, which no doubt would have only escalated whatever was going on between the two of you right now. You were sure you could see remnants of that same teasing smile still lingering on his lips. His cheeks were much pinker than you remembered before. Maybe he was a lightweight and was feeling the effects of this strong drink already. Whatever bullshit he was shilling out, he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. It did take a few moments for him to register that he was being called and actually respond to it.

“Could you come this way, please?” She asked a few breaths after she was sure she had his attention. Her smile was soft and inviting and in her hands she carried a single sheet of paper.

Your curiosity about where he was going popped like a bubble when a fresh drink landed right beside your empty glass on the counter. This one looked different. You looked up into Javier’s face and he was smiling at you with a small nod of his head toward the drink.

“This one might be a little stronger,” he grinned.

“Let me guess, your job is to get us both hammered so we spill our deepest darkest secrets all over this stainless steel countertop.” You reached for the drink. You had been joking but Javier wasn’t playing it off with jovial laughter as you’d expected him to.

In fact, he didn’t really say anything. He was just reaching for ingredients to make another drink.

Eventually though, after you’d given in to the silence and started sipping on what you liked the taste of right away — it reminded you of iced tea in color and tasted sweet and refreshing — he started to talk.

“So what is the deal with you two, anyway?” He asked first. You had a mouthful of alcohol. Your already finished half of the glass and paired with the first drink you had you were beginning to feel the familiar warm dizziness of the liquor buzzing around inside of you.

“How much alcohol is in this?”

“Lots,” he confessed, “We have a bet. I think you two are exes. Nasty breakup. Maybe one of you cheated, he’s a chef so I’m gonna say it was him. You know, job with long nights and questionable ethics. Plus something about you gives ‘good woman’ vibes.”

“Oh my god, no. We never dated, he is the devil,” you giggled. It wasn’t particularly funny but it felt funny; his dramatic story of a whirlwind romance and the kind of breakup that not only split the pair but caused an earthquake between the group of friends, forcing them to pick sides.

“But, you do like him.” It wasn’t a question, “and he likes you.”

“He does not. He hates me.”

“He likes you. And you didn’t deny it, so you like him.” His declaration sounded so sure you wondered what the hell kind of strong alcohol he had been taking swigs of when you weren’t looking.

“It doesn’t matter. We would probably end up killing each other before anything else happened between us.”

Javier pondered your words for only a few moments. “So what do you like about him?”

You felt weirdly comfortable and safe in this conversation. With Claire or with anyone else who knew you both mutually, you were extra guarded. You hated everything about Doh Kyungsoo. You never wanted to see his face ever again. You wanted to live in a world where he did not exist. But with Javier, with the quiet corner you both were hidden away in, with the alcohol in your blood, you could feel your caution beginning to slip.

“Why does anybody like anybody?” You shrugged in a sad way. You knew it didn't matter what you thought about him, the seeds had already been sewn with so much poison, nothing would ever grow. “He’s nice to look at. He’s nice to listen to when he isn’t calling me mean names, his voice sounds nice. He —” you lifted the black straw to your lips and drained the last bits of the tasty drink, “has a strong back. My grandma always said a man ought to have a strong back.”

“A strong back?”

“Yeah, like sturdy. Like a mountain. A redwood tree. Like an old, solid wood picnic table without a single crack even after generations of all of the grandchildren dancing on it at the same time. That rat bastard.” You inhaled slowly and deeply and exhaled through your lips with your eyelids sagging just a little bit.

“Jesus.” He whispered under his breath, “that’s possibly the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in all of my years of working here.”

“I just called him a rat bastard,” you giggled and Javier laughed openly.

“Yeah you did. I’ve never been insulted with that much passion. Maybe you’ll get to test out the strength of his back soon.” He lifted his eyebrows as if he just said something that made any sense to you. You just stared at him, shaking your head after a few of his suggestive wiggles.

“If you still want to go outside there’s a small covered patio right out that door,” Javier lifted a bottle opener to point toward a big gray metal door at the back of the room, “I think the storm should be calmer now, but will probably pick back up again in about an hour. Should be safe for now but you should really come back inside if the wind gets bad again. I’ll send you another drink and maybe some company in a little while.”

Oh, was he getting rid of you now? You spun on the chair you were seated on and plopped your feet down on the tile floor, making you way toward that door, grabbing the thing and giving it a big push with all of your might.

It swung open easily enough and the outside air was fresh and chilly. There were no lights out here but the occasional lightning flashes gave your eyes a little bit of a chance to adjust to the darkness. The space was small, with a concrete bench built into the wall and the cover of this patio extended just enough for you to be able to sit down without getting splashed with the falling rain too much.

You were exactly the right amount of drunk. The rain falling sounded loud enough for your senses to cloud over and you leaned your head back against the cool concrete enjoying the way the noisy rain echoed off of that tin roof and reverberated inside of the center of your skull.

The wind still had some power. Occasionally a strong gust would bring a wave of rain your way and your bare legs would take the brunt of it. You didn’t care much, even though you knew you shouldn’t stay out here for too long in these shorts. It was just a little cold. You were sober enough to know what you should and should not do in a hurricane.

The sound of the door opening pulled your eyes back open and you looked through the space that opened up. It was Sara and she came bearing gifts.

“Javier said you were out here,” she said with a sweet smile and you scooched over just a little so she could sit down beside you on the side that wasn’t getting as much rain. She handed you a fresh drink and sat beside you, warming your cool bare arm with her warmth. She had an excited smile and what looked like a sparkle in her eyes. The moment her hands were empty she was gripping your arm. She was squealing lightly, a whispered and excited noise that came from the center of her chest and then she was shaking you in excitement.

“He likes you. Doh Kyungsoo,” she squealed right into your ear, “Oh my God. I could die.”

“He,” she was pulling your arm in big dramatic movements, she was shaking your whole body harder, ”likes,” saying each word one at a time, “you.”

You looked into this poor delusional woman’s face the moment the shaking stopped.

“Sara, he just called me a dog in there,” you said flatly. “Not a puppy or even a doggie. A dog. That’s one step up from bitch.” Her smiles dropped and you could see the worry on her face.

“What? Why? What exactly did he say?” Finally she was asking the real questions. No matter how much of a crazy jerk he was he wouldn’t say something like that to someone he liked. She had it all wrong.

“I said I wanted to come outside,” you lifted your hands to show the outside you were now partaking in, “and he said ‘does my little princess want to come outside and play with a ball’ and then he’s like ‘you know, like a dog? Because you are a dog.’ He didn't imply it. He said it.” You dropped your voice as low as you could go with your lady voice when you did the impression of him. You figured it was a pretty good likeness. You had his accent down and everything.

You reached for the drink and took a long pull through the straw.

Sara was silent, but she no longer sported the worried look. She now looked quite pleased actually.

“He calls you ‘my little Princess’ and you refuse to believe that he likes you?”

“No, you didn’t hear how he said it. He’s so mean about it. He says it like an insult like I’m a spoiled brat. He uses it sarcastically.” This drink was just as strong as the last one, the ice tea one.

“Why on earth do you think he likes me? He totally hates me.”

“He just told me.”

You looked into her face to gauge her truthfulness. She was a little fuzzy around the edges.

“He didn’t,” you said, “he’s very sarcastic when he talks. If you don't know to look for it you might misunderstand.” You’d deny it forever. You’d deny it to save yourself from the pain of giving into it and then being crushed by his overwhelming hatred the second he showed up. “Look, tell me exactly what he said and say it in the exact same tone he said it in. And what you said first, I’ll need the full context.”

“So we do these interviews periodically throughout the retreat, to gauge how well the singles are getting along with each other. As you saw earlier, I took him aside to talk. Basic things like is there anything he needs to make his stay more comfortable. He said he doesn’t expect much given the current circumstances so he’s just happy to have a dry place to sleep and warm food to eat. He doesn't want to be a bother, which I felt was very kind of him.”

“Then to kind of ease into the topic of possible love interests, I pointed out that he didn’t seem to fare too badly while cooking blindfolded. Not a single burn or a cut and he said,” She cleared her throat and lifted her chin, “‘I had the best assistant. She did really well in there.’” She had a very pleased look on her face. You on the other hand stared at her with a more doubtful expression.

“That’s it? Even I know how well I did in there. I did everything for him, of course I was the best assistant. He’s probably never experienced that kind of support while cooking, Jesus, I literally held each of his hands inside of my hands when he was cutting up that fucking fish. I had to hug him for that, you know.”

Sara was smiling and nodding, not understanding your point. It wasn’t romantic of him to say you were a good pair of eyes, it was literally just a fact.

“And how did that feel?” Sara whispered as she leaned in closer, “hugging him?” Her excitement level was too high, “did he smell nice?” She was enjoying this way too much, “did his back feel strong?” You could see it even in your inebriated state. You pushed a shoulder against hers in protest, bringing a giggle from her chest. You didn't answer her silly questions, even if the memory of the smell of his back was still ingrained inside of your nose. Even if he had a warmth to him that you longed to touch again, you refused to say any of this outloud.

“What was your very first impression of him like?” Her next question was calmly asked. She had settled down with the shaking and squealing and over the top ridiculous excitement when none was warranted and she looked into your face now, just a friend asking another friend about a guy.

“Umm,” you looked out at the falling rain, ignoring the way the wind picked up a little bit and whipped waves of rain onto your leg, up higher on your thigh now that it had started getting a little wild, “I actually saw him from a distance at first. My friend Claire was hosting a dinner and he was sitting at the end of this really long table and wow, what a face. Just, some people get to walk around looking that handsome and nobody says anything?” You were giggling when you met Sara’s eyes and you noticed your drink was mostly empty already. These things went down so easily. The once perfect level of drunk you had was beginning to tip over the edge toward downright tipsy. You hoped to God you had enough self control tonight to slow down. This team obviously wasn’t about to slow down on offering you the alcohol, this was part of their plan.

“And, I mean, our friends, our mutual friends, they even tried to set us up once but,” you frowned dramatically and looked away from her expecting eyes, “I mean, he hates me of course. It didn’t work out. It would never work, we are both just…” You let your words trail off with a long dramatic sigh.

“He said he couldn’t stop looking at you,” Sara’s voice filled in the silence after your sigh, “that his first impression of you,” she inhaled a breath and her hand wrapped back around your arm as her eyebrows lifted in wonder, “was that you were so pretty he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”

Impossible. She was lying to you to get you to confess something incriminating. You looked down at the third very strong drink these people had fed you and you could feel it then, just how very drunk you had become in such a short amount of time. Your memory slipped back to what she had asked you.

‘Did his back feel strong?’

This was part of it. This was part of the game they were playing to get you both to grow closer to each other. To get you to admit to things. You had told Javier earlier about your feelings for Kyungsoo and now Sara knew this information. She was using your own words to push you into him, telling you exactly what he had said about you just as — you gasped suddenly with your eyes widening — just as Javier was probably telling Kyungsoo right now exactly what you had said about him.

No. No, he shouldn’t know that. He couldn't know that.

You stood up and your legs were wobbly.

“No, Sara. He is a bastard and I am a dog, remember? We hate each other and there is no getting past hate.”

You hadn’t heard the sound of the door opening.

“I hate that man.”

The wind had been too loud. The rain had been falling in stinging waves against your skin. The storm had been raging too wildly for you to have heard anything else.

You fought through the terrible feeling of your entire back being soaked and you fought the lies they tried to get you to fall for, just so you could believe it all, believe that there was even a glimmer of attraction and affection from him and then they would all giggle and laugh when he broke your heart and rejected you again.

“He’s always only been a bastard and a jerk. If it wasn’t for this storm, I would be on the first plane far away from him the second I saw his face in that room earlier. You couldn't pay me enough money to stay here with him.”

They didn’t know. They didn't know what it felt like to have been rejected by him. They didn't know how much it hurt for him to put you in your place, again and again.

“I would be so much happier if I never met him.”

You had already said so many terrible things by the time you saw his eyes — dark, cold and angry. He was standing in the doorway listening to your long speech about how much you despised everything about him and how desperate you were to get away from him.

Oh no. Oh no, all of that had been — had been too harsh of you — You were only trying to stop all of the games but he heard it all.

He was moving through the doorway and there was a loud bang as the wind took the heavy metal door and slammed it closed.

His eyes were on fire. The words that left his lips were full of carefully controlled emotion.

”You’ve never even met me. You don't fucking know me,” he wasn’t yelling, he was growling at you.

“But you sure like to act like you do. You don't know shit. So you can step down off your high fucking horse. Quit pretending like you’re somehow a victim of my terrible personality and look in the fucking mirror for once because one of us an asshole and it sure as hell isn’t me.”

He wasn’t raging and speaking loud or irrationally and that somehow made it worse. That didn’t change the way his low voice delivered his message to you with the same amount of vitriol. If anything, his clear delivery made his words hit you even harder. He was very angry and he was upset with you. You felt every bit of his anger deep inside of your belly, it made your stomach burn and clench.

You lifted both of your hands in front of you in some stupid attempt to respond to him with body language.

This wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to have heard any of that.

You felt as if your entire face might be burning up. You felt shame in this.

All other times you’d fought with him, the right and the wrong had been crystal clear. He was wrong and you had been right. He was the bad guy and you were the good guy. But now, this time, and with the look of actual hurt you could see deep inside of his brown eyes you felt something different.

“Kyungsoo, wait. That’s not what I meant.” You managed to get the words out. You weren’t sure why you felt so desperate to set the record straight with him but it was probably what you knew deep down inside.

He was right. You were the asshole here. H-Had it always been you?

“I’ll just — step inside so you two can talk,” Sara had stood up and moved to the door, far away from the upset that was filling most of this back patio up with an uncomfortable atmosphere that you could almost not breathe within.

But you were trapped here, with him and his anger and his hurt feelings and — and — but, wait a minute. Why exactly were his feelings hurt? Because you called him a bastard? That wasn’t new. Because you proclaimed your desire to escape him? He frequently did the same.

Why did it matter to him what you thought?

You were insignificant to his life.

The door closed behind her and you were standing as far away from the man as you could. Most of your entire back was soaked with rain. You could feel the cold from the harsh wind beginning to prickle your skin and make you shake just a little bit.

Kyungsoo had stood to face you for a while but when you didn’t immediately offer any explanation like ‘it’s Opposite Day today! You say the opposite of how you really feel because it's fun. Isn’t this fun?’ he moved to sit down on the concrete bench and he stared ahead looking at the rainstorm but not actually seeing it.

After a few deep breaths you reached down deep and pulled out some words for him.

“They’re playing a g-game with us. There is-sa game happening right now.” You sounded drunk. This might work against you. His eyes moved from blank staring into the blackness of that rainstorm to blank staring at you. His arms were crossed over his chest and he still looked very mad.

“That man in there,” you lifted a finger to point toward Javier and you made a fist, moving it downward to pantomime the smashing motions he was making with the smashing thing back then when he was doing his smashing. You motioned three times and then quickly realized your hand, moving up and down like this resembled an obscene gesture. Oh god. Did you just do the hand gesture for jerking off?

“Oh my god,” you whispered, quickly moving both of your hands behind your back. “That man,” you motioned with your chin instead, “is gathering information. He is a spy. They all are.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows had flattened out but he was still looking at you with that same blank expression. So far, so good. You would get him to see the truth.

“What did he tell you about me? Did he tell you something like—” you lifted your face, looking up and to the left toward the ceiling of this patio, making a quick decision about what sorts of your secrets Javier might have told Kyungsoo. It was tricky because you weren’t about to offer up the exact same secrets.

You couldn't get the secrets out. Instead you made a “mmm mmm” sound in the place of the words you might have told Javier about how handsome you found him, or about how nice his voice sounded as he whispered instructions to you as you both were cooking earlier. What if he said the thing, the strong back thing?

“Is your question to me, Did that man,” Kyungsoo lifted his hand and quickly jerked off the air three times, “tell me mmm mmm mmm something?”

You nodded your head, thankful that he was so good at solving puzzles. He understood.

But he wasn’t answering. He just sat up straighter, his eyes opened wider and he repeated the question you had asked him.

“Did that man tell me mmm mmm mmm something?”

“Yeah,” you nodded again, stepping just a little bit closer to where he sat. You were getting colder now.

“What the fuck does that mean?” His eyes were even wider now. “What does that mean? Are you having a stroke?”

You could hear genuine frustration in his voice. He was lifting his hands toward you. You’d misjudged his puzzle solving skills.

You closed your eyes and took another step, reaching his knee with your knee, you reached out and touched his outstretched hand. Maybe this might help with your words.

“Okay, so earlier, S-Sara,” it was difficult to grasp tight to her name but after a few tries you got it, “S-Sara told me that you,” you lifted your finger and reached out toward his face, landing your index finger right in the middle of his soft bottom lip. You pressed down and his lips parted with the softest gasp for air, “she said that you told her, and she told me, that you told her,” he lifted a hand and wrapped it around your hand, pulling your finger down from poking his lip as you figured this puzzle out. You looked down at the picture of his hand holding yours. “She said you thought I was pretty.” His lips were still parted and his warm hand was still wrapped around yours, holding you still, keeping you from blowing away in this wind.

“She told me you said that. That was a lie, right? They’re playing games with us.”

His lips were closed and his eyes were still watching your face. It didn’t seem like he was any closer to working out an answer to this puzzle.

“What lies did they tell you I said about you?”

Something flew by, something bigger than a leaf, maybe a small tree branch. You heard it hit the column that supported this patio and the sound of it made you jump as you spun around to see what it was.

“We should go in. It’s getting worse out here. And you seem extremely drunk.” When Kyungsoo finally responded to you, he didn’t answer any of your questions.

”Did Javier say anything about a mountain, or a p-picnic table?”

Kyungsoo stood up when you were distracted by the branch. He had spun on his heels and had walked away from you, leaving you half drenched and so close to the edge of this patio that the next swift gust could have easily thrown you off the platform down into the mud.

“Because they are lying.” You grasped for it. You leaned into it. You grasped and you leaned only where you expected to feel the strong sturdy column from this patio you felt none, and when you leaned you leaned against nothing at all and you felt the world leaving your body. You felt the falling. The falling scared you enough to let out a cry of fear. There was no floor beneath your feet, you were only falling down, how far did this step drop down onto the wet earth below?

You closed your eyes and braced for the impact. It would probably hurt. It might even break something. You’d ruin your outfit at the very least. You closed your eyes and you felt someone there. Someone warm and sturdy with smooth arms that circled around your waist, pulling you back from the edge with such strength and force you knew it had to be him. It had to be someone with a strong back who could support you and keep you from falling down.

You grasped at him, pulling yourself up with tight fists clenched around the white cotton of his shirt and when you opened your eyes the world had righted itself again. There was no more falling and no more panic. Your feet were planted firmly on this patio floor, situated directly in between his feet, your arms around his shoulders and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and the rain that fell onto both of your heads dripped through his hair, pulling wet strands of black hair down in front of his eyes, obscuring most of his vision except for what he was looking at right in front of him, which was your face, which he looked all over without speaking. Those eyes touched over every one of your features and with each second that passed of it the more you began to feel the warmth returning to and soon overwhelming your skin.

You’d never be this close to him before this. You’d never wanted to be, before this. You let your eyes drift from the up close view of his lips to take in the view of his face. You allowed the smallest gasp to leave your chest. There was a thumping inside of you that seemed to originate from somewhere inside of him. Water ran down his face and you pulled your lips in, tasting rain water on your tongue.

“Inside. Now.” His command growled against your parted lips and you tasted the light fragrance of alcohol on his breath. The grip of his arms around your waist did not loosen despite the urgency you heard in his words.

Your hands should not have been moving but they were. The back of his shoulders and that plain white t-shirt was soaked through and the rain continued to fall over the both of you. When your hand traveled up the back of his shoulders and rested over the back of his neck you felt the incredible tension within his muscles there. He was solid and stiff and your hands should not have moved any more but you had a very flimsy grasp of your own self control

From the back of his neck you moved again, touching lightly around the front of him, fingertips trailing over his Adam’s apple and up to touch his pretty face.

The tension you felt within his arms changed when you let your fingertips trail over to his soft cheeks and when you touched the soft plump bottom lip you felt the clench of his jaw, the exhale of air through his nose and the tightening of his arms around your waist. His eyes were closed and that same thumping echoed throughout your chest.

“What did Javier tell you I said?” Your whispered question was stunted through the difficulty you had with breathing.

“That you thought I was someone with strong back muscles. I guess you need someone to help you move furniture. I don’t fucking know.”

You let out a laugh and his eyes opened to watch your face. He said it with a straight face but there was something just under his words that sounded like humor. The more time you spent with him, the more you actually began to pick up on the fact that most of the shit he said was a joke in disguise. Most of it. Sometimes he was just being mean. But this one was actually funny. You threw your head back with the laugh and his eyes danced around your entire face as you wound back down.

“You better not call me to help you move. We aren’t close enough for that.”

The real irony was this man saying something like that while still holding you tight up against his entire body like this. You were pretty sure he brought you back up to a normal body temperature by lending you the heat directly from his skin.

“Did you really tell Sara that?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. There was a change in his posture when you asked it though.

You felt his arms loosen. You felt one arm leave you entirely and he reached around in front of himself to grab ahold of your hand, the same wandering one which had been touching his lips tonight and he wrapped his fingers around your hand, encasing it within his warmth and he pulled it down.

You felt the absence of his heat first, then the wobbliness of your legs returned to you, reminding you of just how drunk and cold you actually were.

“You’re soaking wet,” his words followed a quick glance down the length of you and even in this darkness you could make out the traveling of his pupils. You knew the fabric of this top and the too-short shorts would have clung to the shape of you — outlining the swell of your hips, the cinch of your waist, your soft breasts — giving his imagination too much to work with in the unlikely instance that he would be so inclined to have any sorts of imaginations about you, you’d given him the material for such impossible impossibilities.

It didn’t matter.

It would never happen. He was turning away from you, taking his warmth and body heat and muscles covered in transparent thin white cotton on top and flimsy black fabric that when the lighting flash just right gave you the outline of what you both knew was occurring between your hips and his hips when they’d been pressed up tightly against each other.

He was leaving and the big metal door slammed shut and before you could even shout out from behind him, calling him a coward for avoiding your question — and before you could even tell him how absolutely full of shit he was, the door opened back up and Sara was at your side with soft, dry, warm towels and a crowd of fussing and fretting Shitty Sands Resort staff members were all blabbering on about how lucky you were that you didn’t actually fall off that patio onto the jagged rocks and cactus (!!) below and how heroic and magnanimous Doh Kyungsoo was to have saved your pathetic and insignificant life.

He spun the tale to a crowd of very impressed ooh-ers and ahh-ers and you were far too drunk to add anything more than to throw out the random accusation that the entire group of them were dirty spies and the occasional request to go back outside which was shut down instantly by every single voice in the room.

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

[theoxenfree]

LUCID

sleep paralysis demon x reader | 3k | 18+

you've never known a true, good night of sleep in your entire life. when your doctor and best friend, dr. sujay patel, offers to vouch for you as the perfect candidate for a "last resort" sleep study and medication trial, you don't have high hopes. the first night of the trial, things go sideways very quickly.

warnings; technically somnophilia, dubcon, hair-pulling, restraint, some eerie/unsettling details, breech of patient-doctor boundaries, alcoholism, implied addiction/addictive personality, academic cheating, some culturally sensitive discussion, roughly proofread.

this is the first concept piece for my upcoming sleep paralysis demon x reader story!! to help me shape the story, pls answer feedback questions + reblog!!!

Children at your daycare liked to draw you fanciful pictures of the other lives they lived in their dreams during afternoon nap time. You were shown orange tabby cats with green eyes garbed in full-plates of knight’s armor, brandishing a fish sword against a foe to save the world. Most often, they dreamed of their families and drew bright, brave versions of themselves holding hands with a parent, a sibling, a bipedal family dog with an electric collar. A few of the children never smiled in their self-portraits.

The proportions of everything were always silly: gigantic tree trunks with tiny, green bundles sitting atop of them, three enormous fruits supported by brittle vines and growth in bushes, cats and dogs with ears as tall as their bodies, Mom with purple skin instead of brown, Big Sis looking particularly volatile with a theratrically large snarl. Despite this, the children beamed in pride whenever yesterday's drawings would come down off the wall to be replaced with the new.

For some of these kids, this was their own equivalent of having art hung on a refrigerator; to you, it evoked dull, thready jealousy because they were in possession so simple, so biologically normal to them and everyone else around them that to be incapable of the same thing was, surely, a major defect.

Sleep was already a treasure you were seldom allotted the pleasure of greedily surrendering to, but to dream sounded like a terrifying experience to you altogether. It took work; a stringent routine of warm showers (hot and scalding water was forbidden), with an array of chalky, dissolvable tabs and shower gels and shampoos and moisturizers and essential oil dehumidifiers and soy candles and hot tea and special pillow sleep spray you’d seen in an online ad while thumbing through socials.

It took pajamas that were loose, soft but not silky, it took a satin bonnet and a satin eye covering (the kind with pockets for your eyelashes to move), comforters soused in lavender spray meant to magically work out the tightness in your shoulders and calves without the need of paying for a masseuse’s bony elbow. It took purchasing a battery-operated alarm clock to wake yourself for work so you could shut off your phone and leave it plugged into the wall downstairs.

You'd nearly forgotten—you couldn't have sugar after half past six, you had to stagger your water consumption after that time as well because the urge to piss would keep you awake for hours after the fact. The television needed to be off once you finished putting away dishes after dinner.

If you were lucky, this would work and you'd sleep a total of two or three hours uninterrupted—never fully tipping over the edge of wakefulness into deep sleep, but enough to keep yourself going during the day, grocery shop, wrangle the small children, scrape at a bar, get dicked down into your mattress every now and then, and visit Sujay for your usual appointments.

“How do you feel about trying something different?” he always gestured to one of the modern-looking armchairs upholstered in teal polyester before bringing you a tea of some sort. Today was a floral white tea with a spoonful of honey. “Ah, my friend, I worry for you. We've done so many studies, we've tried so many different things. Does none of it help? At all?”

“Not really.” you admitted after a sip, singing your tongue once and placing aside the cup and saucer pair. “I don't know if I can keep doing this until the day I die, Sujay. What do you recommend next?”

Dr. Sujay Patel was your neurologist, an utterly brilliant man, and a close friend from your early university days. Despite the rest of your friend group falling apart, pulled in separate directions by the strings of fate and temptation of money, you'd managed to stay in contact with Sujay throughout grad school. There'd been an intermission, probably a period of two years, where you'd forgotten he even existed.

You were out making a disaster of your life on sleepless, drunken benders because you hoped enough alcohol would either knock you out or kill you. The normal distractions came with it: your entire family dynamic corroding and combusting, an ex getting too big for their britches, and a roommate suspiciously eager to rally behind that ex.

Sujay came back into the picture following a nasty incident of alcohol poisoning that left you bedridden in the hospital for a week. You had decided then, in that uncomfortable bed with their starchy, crunchy white sheets and the bathroom being too far away to simply get up and walk to, that you'd abstain from alcohol forevermore.

He'd seen you in a state of soul-weary disarray not long after you were discharged and had decided to take you on as a patient.

“Now, you have a choice here, just remember that.” Sujay sat adjacent to you in the exact chair you were in. He wasn't daunted by the heat from his tea and took some time with it, whether to savor the subtle notes of it or to consider his words, you weren't sure. “But, a colleague of mine at a… pharmaceutical company has been working to get an experimental sedative into some studies. Testing periods, I guess you could say.”

You're convinced by his dedication to his tea to pick up yours again. “Does it work?”

“As of now, one-hundred percent of those who have participated have reported high-efficacy, or at least have claimed it to be effective in some manner.” His mustache moved as he sipped. You drank as well. “I think you should submit to the study and if you're accepted into one of the control groups—commit to it. We're running out of options otherwise. I don't want you to start mixing up your own cocktail of things. All it takes is the wrong thing once, y'know?”

The chair groaned while you adjusted your weight in it. You sighed. “Would that once be such a bad thing, though? At least I could sleep.”

“I'm a doctor,” Sujay looked over his square-rimmed glasses at you, forehead wrinkles enormous, whites of his eyes showing more than the hazel of his irises. “Behave yourself.”

“Fine.” Mesmerized by the stray tea leaves that had managed to escape the metal ball steeper, you said, “tell me what I need to do.”

Sujay had sent you away that day with a whole host of follow-up appointments and a glowing review to his colleague in hopes of skipping the line as much as possible. Sometimes, it was beneficial to have friends in high places, especially when that means you get a call two days later for preliminary, formal interviews and an offer to participate in said study once clearances came through and your blood work came back as desired.

A month to the day when Sujay first mentioned the possibility of a magical cure all to your relentless insomnia, you were brought into a minimally furnished room—the standard, bland cookie cutter type that hadn't an ounce of personality—dotted from head-to-toe in stickers for neuromonitoring, heart rhythm, and whatever else they fancied, you supposed.

It was only after you had changed into your soft, but not too soft, pajamas and covered in wires that you were handed a tiny purple pill. The color of it was obviously a dissolvable casing and food coloring, but what amazed you was the fact a drug this small was meant to induce the best sleep of your life.

“Take the pill, drink at least four ounces of water, and lie supine.” The technologists outside your room, speaking into an intercom, elaborated afterward that they wanted you to stay on your back while you slept. You didn't bother to point out that you weren't stupid—just tired. “We understand that not everyone finds this position comfortable, but to receive adequate results and to measure your vitals at all times, we ask that you try your best.”

You weren't going to hassle them about this and did precisely as they instructed. Shoved the pill down the back of your throat, drank the bottled water, and tried to get comfortable on your back.

You closed your eyes.

A part of you wondered why you had assented to Sujay’s suggestion so easily, especially where everything else had failed. He was one hell of a friend, and had always been that way for you, but as a doctor, you wondered if two years of cheating through medical school, so as to not royally piss off his parents and be disowned for failing, was finally catching up with him somewhat.

You recalled being startled when he told you he hadn’t married yet and didn't intend to as some deep-rooted act of spite against his family and the traditions they had held over his head all his life. Traditions that had been weaponized against him, rather than supplement his life as an extension of his history, of the things he loved, of a chance to explore more of himself.

You had listened wordlessly the entire time he spoke about it, still sipping on his tea, the results from your latest brain scan clamped to a clipboard on his lap—

This wasn't working.

This was so stupid.

You opened your eyes and sat up in the stiff bed, carefully maneuvering your fingers around your orbital bone to force away the puffiness and exhaustion still lingering behind them. It was only as you rubbed your eyes that you noticed your face was empty of cold stickers and a thousand wires. You didn't hear distant blips in the machine measuring your heart rate, nor track the voices of anyone outside your door.

The room was still the same—the outdated, bulky dresser with claw feet, a few gray chairs you could buy on display in a window somewhere, a low oval table, a bedside table for your glass of water and a crisp, neatly folded change of clothes for the next day.

It was only unusual that you were bare of the technologist’s monitoring equipment and sitting amid an unfaltering, deep silence that amplified the sounds of your very existence. Your slow breaths with a quickening heartbeat, blood pumping in your ears, and the coarse rustle of bedsheets as you shifted around the mattress to bring some sense to what was going on.

Would the technologists have come into the room and removed everything from your body without waking you? More miraculously, without you rousing and throwing your hands on them for touching you first?

“Maybe the drug worked?” you had to consider the possibility, even though it still felt as far-fetched as the holistic medicine practitioners online telling you that an herbal cleansing juice could regenerate organs entirely. “Did I actually sleep? I don't remember dreaming, though. Aren't I supposed to dream?”

You looked to the one, single-paned window across the bedroom to spy how far along the morning had progressed, but found yourself sucking in and holding in a breath instead.

There, standing in your view of the outside, was the silhouette of a tall man. Everything about him was indistinguishable aside from the depth of darkness that made him up. Within the confines of the dim room, alight by a single lamp with an amber bulb that seemed to weaken by the second, this man stood apart from the shadows as something deeper, blacker, but corporeal.

He was every bit a part of the dark as much as he wasn't. And you couldn't tell if he was fading you or turned to look out the window at the parking lot two stories below.

“Hi—hello. Are—are you one of the techs?” you had finally let out that breath, now focusing on gauging the guy’s level of sociability, and by extension, his friendliness and the likelihood of him lunging at you. “I, uh, just would've really appreciated it if someone had woken me up before taking off the stickers.”

You were able to see out the window from the gaps around his body, taking note that it was still dark. Very dark. Beyond that, nothing else was discernible from where you sat and what he blocked.

The study wouldn't have finished yet.

Those techs would've taken precaution to wake you up if something had happened.

“Am I asleep?” you asked the wordlese man. “Am I dreaming now? Are you a dream? Is that what it's like?

You never imagined that there could be so much lucidity within a dream, a level of consciousness so similar to a state of wakefulness. When you thought about moving, you could perfectly flex your fingers, curl your toes into the high-pile carpet underfoot, touch the airy fabric covering your body and feel it touching you in turn.

How normal was this really, though? No one had ever told you about dreams like this. Theirs were always fragmented and discombobulated, just like the kids in daycare who drew pictures of pig astronauts and flame extinguishing spatulas. You knew of a rare few in the population capable of controlling their dreams, steering the outcome in the direction they pleased, but even those people were overrode by their own brains.

This was something completely different.

You became especially convinced of this when you thought the stifled air suddenly shifted with a light breeze, a soft whoosh in your ear. A chill erupted over you, making your skin burst with goose flesh, your brain chasing a shiver down your spine as if cold fingers stroked you all the way down the length of it. Those same fingers stayed low, hovering across your lower back before pushing into you, arching you down onto the mattress.

That freedom you thought you had only moments ago was gone, stolen by this invisible hand on your body that was rounding to you and reaching for your chest. Until now, you thought this had simply been a part of the dream—something you had believed to be in control in when the reality was much different—but, as the buttons on your sleep shirt unfastened before your eyes, the thin layers opening you to the cold, inky air, you weren't sure what to think, to do.

Another hand joined the first with long, heavy fingers to knead at your body and take your pants off of your hips until you were fully exposed to the darkness and the thing still dwelling within the room. It hadn't moved an inch since you'd noticed it a while ago; it never became any clearer, any more defined in the clothes or wore, and trying to look upon its face only filled you with puzzlement and dread.

The large hands were so cold despite all their movement on your hot skin, all of the work they did to start riling you up and making you moan. One of them groped your chest, felt your throat, squeezed your jaw as though to force your gaze at one point in particular (the ceiling), pushed apart your lips to dip into your mouth and wet its fingers on your tongue.

You did so as it was the only thing you could do freely right now.

Those fingers, covered in your spit, caressed you between your legs, stroking you in motions neither gentle or harsh. The muscles in your thighs flinched, stomach tightening, your throat vibrating to produce a moan smothered by the second hand circling your throat, gripping firmly enough where you could breathe, but just barely.

The thing couldn’t stop your thoughts, as much as it seemed to try, so it took to interrupting them—distracting you but squeezing your neck, yanking your head back into the pillow by your hair, adjusting itself to thrust multiple fingers into your body, burying them to the knuckle.

You tried to win this war of willpower by thinking about Sujay and his mustache and his stupid glasses. They were green, sometimes blue; seldom did he like the tortoiseshell look.

The thing lunged at your neck again, this time taking you underside the jaw and forced your head back into the pillow while it fucked you deeper on three fingers.

You wanted to make a sound; a moan, a scream, a torturous whimper or pleasure for the way your body was rocked on the bed, creaking with the weight of a pair combined and not just how it appeared. Your nostrils flared, heart rate at an uneasy high, breaths stuck in the column of your throat behind the hand holding it.

The pressure continued to stack higher and higher, building to such a point where you knew you were about to lose it, unravel, praying that this thing would grant you the kindness of fucking you out of your orgasm.

Your abdomen was wound tight, your groin ached terribly, and your thighs started to shake. Behind your eyes, the kaleidoscopic wheels of color intermingled with the darkness and it all slowly burned to white.

And then—

“Good morning!” you were being shaken awake by one of the technologists, a middle-aged woman with blue eyeliner. she didn't expect for you to jolt upright, stick straight, and launch the covers off of your body. “Oh—hey, honey, you alright? We’re done until tonight. How do you feel?”

You were slow to respond to her, occupied by the morning light filtering in through the window across the bedroom. She gave you some time to gather your bearings and took her time removing the stickers and wires from your skin, suggesting you spend some time really scrubbing in the shower later to get off all the adhesive.

“How about now, honey?” she pulled the last sticker and wire combination off of your shoulder. “You with us?”

You didn't know how to answer that, especially not with how damp you felt inside your thighs.

a/n; thank you for reading and choosing to help me shape the story further!! this is all inspired by the fact that I have frequent bouts of sleep paralysis myself and on three consecutive occasions, after taking some questionable drops from an ex-friend, I saw something. I want to make this very clear that this story is intended to be pretty extreme psychological horror. anyway, here are the questions

sujay will be a major supporting character in the story, so what would you be interested in seeing more: 1) sujay and mc further blurring that boundary and possibly becoming a pair, but their "relationship" becomes thwarted by SPD 2) sujay, possibly, ends up with more yandere tendencies as the story progresses and with the development of the plot, could result in a terrible ending for him—but interesting 3) sujay and mc are inherently a toxic duo, but he tries his best to support mc (platonically or one-sided romantically) as they spiral out of control?

in terms of SPD's appearance, what idea do you like better: 1) him, eventually, having a definitive, solid form and features across the span of the story 2) he remains like a "black silhouette" with the invisible hands, but he has the sort of voice that's lulls and lures and manipulates 3) he takes on features that mc (you) find attractive, but they're all wrong and progressively becomes more monstrous 4) he has a physical appearance that's "all wrong", but you can never figure why or what he actually looks like despite SEEING him. if you want to choose multiple, you need to get VERY specific.

I intend for this story to be incredibly dark in terms of sexual content bc SPD is a demon/monster. he is not good. he is not loving. when you think of "dark" for smut, what would you want to see??

[satirediary]

Everyone has those childhood stories of lavish summer vacations consisting of beaches, foreign countries, cruises, and fancy resorts, but not you. Your summers were filled with open fields, sweet tea, climbing trees, and Touya Todoroki. 

Long days were spent ripping and running through the fields of your family's acres. Scraping your knees and bruising your elbows. Touya always had more scars than you, most from events you hadn't witnessed. He was always sent home with extra ointment and bandages from your mother, who never asked questions but instead gave long hugs and lots of fruit. You always felt like your parents knew something you didn't.

Hanging upside down from the swing your dad made out of an old tire and rope, the grass looks like it's growing from the sky. "Do you think when we're older we'll go to cool places for the summer? Like India, or something." You ask casually, your head turning to face an upside-down Touya.

Half preoccupied with picking at his bandage, Touya hums and thinks for a bit before focusing his attention on you. "Only if it's just the two of us; family vacations are overrated."

That's right, it's easy to forget Touya comes from money when you two are out in the grassy fields with dirt underneath your fingernails and grass-stained shirts. He's been coming out to the country for three summers now; apparently, his dad's idea is that he needs to focus on other things and be a normal kid. You think it means he's becoming too materialistic; your grandmother says it's because Touya has a troubled home life, never getting too many details out before your mother speaks in a strained tone to not discuss those things around you.

Your smile is soft, as is your voice when you speak mostly to yourself, “Yeah, the two of us is just fine.”

—

Traditionally, Touya always ate dinner with your family on the last day of summer. The long table would be decorated with all the harvests of the season, plus enough yeast rolls to feed the masses and milk from the best cow on the farm. His leaving for the school year always left you devastated, but these dinners filled with laughter, full bellies, and his promises to see you next summer always lightened the mood.

“My doctor says milk makes your bones stronger,” Touya declares after chugging his third glass, a milk mustache to match his fluffy white hair. You can’t help but giggle at the sight of it, telling him to wipe his face. “Hey, one day this mustache will be real!”

But that day never came. Touya left that night, and he never returned. Not the next summer, or the following, or the one after that—and eventually you grew up and stopped waiting. You never saw his white mustache or congratulated him for taking his father’s position, like he always rambled passionately about. You don't know if those things ever happened for him, but whenever he crosses your mind, you wish him well, wherever he may be.

[inez-winchester-cameron]

Hi! i love your writing, and i was wondering if you would do Dark!rafe x reader, where he teases reader under the table or vice versa

cw: dark!rafe x reader, degradation, victim blaming lowkey??, public play, threats

you've been dreading this dinner ever since rafe had brought it up to you. ward and rose wanted a dinner at a very fancy restaurant to attempt to grow closer to their son and his new girlfriend.

you get ready at the cameron's, previous to the dinner. you smooth the red dress out over your stomach and look at yourself in the mirror. your hair is curled and you've applied some mascara and lipstick. not paying attention, you don't even notice rafe has walked in until he approaches and hugs you from behind

"hey there, gorgeous."

"hey rafey.." you mutter, analyzing your whole appearance.

"don't stress, sweet. you look great, we gotta get going." rafe leaves a kiss before pulling back and smacking your ass, heading out.

-

you sit across from sarah and ward at the dinner table. rafe has his hand resting on the skin of your upper thigh, occasionally giving it a rough squeeze. you bounce your leg anxiously and pick at the skin of your hands, nervous habits. rafe hates these nervous habits. he's warned you two times already to quit, so now he must resort to other ways of making you relax. he slips his hand up your dress and rubs over your cunt, nonchalantly. he ignores the looks you give him, continuing to listen to rose talk.

his thumb circles your clit and he slips your panties to the side, rubbing his fingers over your cunt. he never pushes anything into you, only playing with your cunt. he rub his finger over your wet hole, tugs on your lips, anything to get a reaction out of you. after he pinches your clit and you let out a particularly loud gasp, he whispers in your ear.

"gotta be quiet, hun. can't have them knowing you're a little whore that lets your boyfriend finger you under the table. fuck, you're so disgusting. can't believe you have no self respect. now, quit whining or i'll give you something to whine about."

you shiver at his tone and nod in understanding..this was gonna be a long night.

[merakiui]

AAAAA ok so. You're one of my favorite authors here on Tumblr and slkssnlssksn I'm so nervous waaaa thanks for taking your time to brainrot with us <3 I'm in love with your writing and your delicious concepts and how you execute them oh god and when you write about stinky greasy incel Idia OK I'm gonna stop and actually order aaa

Can I please get assorted macaroons with a lacy lingerie along with a hint of sea salt caramels and a finishing touch of a pineapple parfait with Floyd and Jade, together? Something sweet and cute but with a lingering feeling of uneasiness <3 Hope it's well-ordered! Please and thank you very much!! 🥹

yandere!jade leech x (gender neutral) reader x yandere!floyd leech cw: yandere, unhealthy relationship/behaviors, drugging, implied captivity, brief mentions of implied nsfw, obsession note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ᴊᴀᴅᴇ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ & ꜰʟᴏʏᴅ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ

☆ Your “wedding” was unofficial, a quiet ceremony without an audience. Jade dressed you for the occasion, prettying you up as if you were a doll. You certainly felt so as you watched your reflection in the mirror, drifting in and out of a daze. Floyd poked at your shoulder to rouse you, giggling about his “sweet, sleepy Shrimpy.” When the wedding bands were slid on your ring fingers—the left for Floyd and the right for Jade—it became official. They kissed you on both cheeks and promised you a future filled with love and happiness. You couldn’t protest; there was no room for such a thing, not when Floyd’s mouth was already closing over yours.

☆ The first five days are for Floyd, and the next five will be Jade’s. They planned it together, all with your and their shared interests in mind. The first five days of your honeymoon are spent at a tropical resort. You delight in local cuisine and beautiful sights, allowing the twins to hold your hands while you walk between them. They spoil you rotten, buying all sorts of clothes and jewelry to add to your wardrobe, trinkets that catch your eye, sweets you seem to fancy. Money has never been an issue, which is why everything feels so grand and lavish. You’re taken to the beach, to a quiet, desolate strip that few tourists know of. Towels are laid out; an umbrella is propped. Floyd drags you towards the sea, eager to shed his human form and swim with you. Jade reads in the shade, occasionally glancing up from his book to watch you.

☆ As the sun shifts through the sky, you tire yourself out. Between swimming with Floyd, sunbathing alongside Jade, and indulging in a picnic with both, you’re plenty sluggish by the day’s end. They snap your picture just as you feel yourself falling, giggling to each other about how cute you look. The twins intend to capture many of your best (and possibly worst) moments during the entirety of this honeymoon. When the secret contents of your lunch catch up to you and render you sleepy, you assume it’s just the result of a long day sapping your energy. It makes you pliable, has you dragging them into bed when you’re oscillating between slumber and wakefulness. The camera shutters, capturing you curled up against Floyd in bed—perfectly, peacefully asleep.

☆ The twins take turns cooking for you. Mornings are for Floyd. He prepares all types of breakfasts, all with your favorites. You think he has too much fun in the kitchen because some meals are decorated cutely—pancakes looking like cats and bears and fruit cut into stars and hearts. Jade takes care of lunch and snacks throughout the day. They work together on dinner. It’s a guarantee that you’ll always feast on delicious meals regardless of which twin cooks. Strangely, the meals are so delicious that they leave you sleepy or, in some cases, achingly hot. The twins take good care of you whenever this happens. Maybe something just didn’t agree with your stomach… It’s nothing to worry about. They’re here for you.

☆ As the days wear on, you find yourself swamped in love. Whether you’re enjoying mornings down at the beach, exploring and shopping in town, touring popular destinations, or enjoying drinks on the balcony at sunset, the twins are always by your side. Floyd clings, his arm perpetually wrapped around your waist. Jade likes to slide his hand into yours, holding it with such a gentle fondness. He kisses your knuckles softly, eyeing the rings on your fingers with a pleased smile.

☆ Jade booked quite the quaint cabin for his half of the honeymoon. For the next five days, the three of you will see endless, sprawling pines from your spot in the mountains. He’s got a vague itinerary in mind, but it’s subject to change as you get through these five days. Surprises are more than welcome. The cabin is so cozy, equipped with all the necessities for a trip such as this one. It even has a fireplace. Jade is much too eager to gather and chop firewood even though it’s already supplied.

☆ He takes you out on hikes through the woods, pointing out flora and fauna as you encounter them. His eyes are sparkling the entire time. Floyd’s not as into it as Jade is, but he does enjoy walking alongside you and taking pictures of your most candid moments. You’ve been feeling groggy ever since breakfast, so you’re not nearly as alert as you usually are. Floyd takes this as his opportunity to snap your photo when you least expect it and to steal quick kisses. Jade thinks it’s so cute that you can hardly keep your eyes open. He promises the lot of you will turn around and head back after he gathers just a few more mushrooms for tonight’s dinner. You’re lying down for a nap by the time you make it back, the sun dipping below the horizon. You think you feel the bed depressing under Jade’s weight, his hands ghosting over your clothes to help change you into something comfortable. You let it happen.

☆ This place is oddly isolated. The locals are sweet, though. When Jade tells them you’re here on honeymoon, they all smile and tell you to have fun, to enjoy these special moments, to feel lucky that you have two husbands who adore you so very much. You thank them with a pleasant smile. Jade and Floyd keep their hands on you beneath the table during lunch. Even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. They make sure of that. And if you seem paranoid, they wave it off casually. Jade tells anyone who asks that you just love the variety of mushrooms here, especially the fun kinds. You’re not sure what he means until much later when you’ve digested your meal and your vision blurs. Jade’s there to steady you before you can fall over, petting your head in that affectionate way and cooing at you to calm down. It’s your honeymoon. You deserve to relax. His sharp, overly sweet smile is all you see in your dreams.

☆ Honeymoons are especially exciting because they come with amenities fitting for the occasion. A complimentary bottle of wine, luxury chocolates, condoms… Floyd tosses that last one aside. You won’t need them. If you insist on using protection for whatever reason, Jade will ease your worries with a placid smile. He’ll indulge your request. He wears one, yes, but then it’s not a guarantee that this one hasn’t been tampered with in some way. You’ll never know. Floyd’s a bit more difficult to convince. He adores cumming inside and then felching it out of your slick hole. You shiver through it all, clawing at the sheets as you melt beneath them. Your husbands pamper you excessively, so don’t think about anything and just enjoy yourself.

☆ The mountains are peaceful. Unlike the tropical paradise you previously came from, things are slower here. You enjoy watching the sunrise cut through the trees in the mornings, sitting at the window with Jade and Floyd. You sleep late into the afternoon, sandwiched between both of them. Floyd’s an early riser, so breakfast is always waiting for you when you and Jade eventually wake. It’s quiet bliss. You sit and sketch nature alongside Jade in the afternoon, who adores every little line you make with your pencil. He tells you so, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth when you pout and insist his is better. There’s no competition here, and even if there was he will always love yours more. When night falls Floyd prepares a campfire. You roast marshmallows for s’mores. Floyd dances around the firepit, singing gleefully and pulling you up from the log to dance alongside him. Firelight reflects off of your rings. It’s a wonderful honeymoon.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Best (Fake) Boyfriend

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention at a fancy restaurant, a handsome SWAT sergeant pretends to be your boyfriend to help you.

Warnings: pushy man is pushy and mean. Deacon is perfect and pretty. reader isn't rich (not necessarily poor, just usually unable to afford the vacation she's on). lots of fluff!! there's also a Psych reference and if you find it, we should be friends

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“It’ll be fun!” your best friend insists.

“I don’t know,” you reply.

“It’s just a weekend. This is the hottest resort in LA and we’re never going to be able to afford it again. Besides, it’s an Uber ride away, if you hate it after the first night, just go home. We wouldn’t hold that against you, swear.”

Closing your eyes, you nod. The small group of friends surrounding you cheers. After they force you to pack a bag, you find yourself in the back of an Uber driving through Beverly Hills.

“How did you get a room here again?” you ask.

“I got an insane discount voucher when I went to the grand opening of that new organic restaurant in Santa Monica!”

“And we’re just spending a weekend in the resort? Swimming, relaxing,” you trail off, unsure if you believe the lack of ulterior motives.

“Yeah,” your best friend answers, “plus rich men from the Hills.”

The Uber driver rolls his eyes, and you can’t blame him... not at all.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Save a whole school full of evacuees and you get a dinner reservation at a Beverly Hills resort,” Street muses. “I knew there was a reason I liked this gig.”

“You do know that place will be crawling with rich, single women,” Hicks begins.

“Yeah, we do,” Tan and Street cheer together.

“And badge bunnies,” Hicks finishes.

Street shrugs, and Deacon and Hondo shake their heads. 

“Do we have to attend?” Deacon asks.

“Why? Got better plans?” Street asks.

“A night in the hills isn’t everyone’s idea of a fun time, playboy,” Hondo answers. Deacon nods his agreement.

“Yes, you have to go. Mayor’s going to be there tonight, too. Every week like clockwork,” Hicks answers.

“Hey, Deac,” Street calls as they walk out. “What’s the real problem?”

“Just seems like a materialistic, money-based approximation of the worth of the lives we saved,” Deacon answers. “The mayor’s office just implied all those lives are worth approximately $650.”

“Those meals are over $125 each?” Luca gapes. “Sorry, I know that’s not the point.”

“It’s not the first or last time we’ll receive a monetary thank you, but at some point it becomes more about the reward after the job than the job itself,” Deacon adds.

“Maybe we’ll be there for a reason,” Luca offers. “But I get what you’re saying. We are focused on the job, and that’s all we can control.”

“Then I guess we should clean up. Places like that frown upon dirt covered tactical uniforms."

"Their loss; this is my best look,” Street jokes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Um, I can’t afford to look at this menu,” you say, pushing it back onto the table. “Maybe I should go find a diner or something.”

“It’s included,” your best friend whispers. “But we’re trying to play the part, so sit up and feel as good as you look in that outfit.”

Sighing, you straighten your shoulders, picking up the outrageously priced menu again and trying not to let your shock show. Indeed, you’ll never live like this again, but you’re not sure you’d want to even if you could.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Would it be wrong for me to say there’s one for each of us?” Street asks, glancing over his menu.

“Yes,” Deacon, Hondo, and Luca reply in unison.

“They’re women, not suits, Street,” Deacon adds.

“Think I could land one?” Street asks.

“Playboy,” Hondo sighs. “You don’t have enough game for half of one of those women, kid.”

“Really? ‘Cause the one in the blue’s lookin’ over here.”

“Probably at Deacon,” Luca says, keeping his eyes on the menu.

“Right,” Deacon agrees sarcastically. “I- honestly, I don't know what's in most of these foods, so one of you order for me.”

He sets his menu down, his gaze wandering to the table of women Street was talking about. One of them catches his attention, and when the four other women get up, giggling as they walk toward the bathroom, he decides he’s looking at a kindred soul.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Mind if I sit here for just a moment? My friends are running late, and the reservation is under another name,” a man explains, smiling as he looks at you.

“Uh, I don’t think-“

“Thanks,” he says, cutting you off as he sits beside you.

“My friends are coming right back,” you state. “So, you should find somewhere else to wait.”

“Sounds like you have time to kill, and I do, too. What’s your name?”

You don’t answer, fiddling with the bottom of the tablecloth as you watch the doorway for your friends to return.

“I can’t imagine someone ditching you.”

The man leans into your peripheral vision, and you turn your head away. When his hand brushes against your covered hip, you stand quickly.

“I told you that I didn’t want to talk, so you should find your way to your own table before I come back,” you say lowly before walking to the balcony entrance.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon tunes out his teammates as he watches a man sit beside you. Your obvious discomfort makes him eager to help. He stops at the thought that one uninvited man in your personal space is likely more than enough.

“Deac?” Hondo asks. “Oh,” he adds when he looks at what is so worthy of Deacon’s attention.

“Didn’t think he still had it in him,” Luca whispers to Hondo.

Deacon stands suddenly, his attention on your back as you walk onto the balcony. Hondo notices that the man beside you looks angry, and when he jostles the table in his haste to follow you, he knows why Deacon is so invested.

“Go help her out, Deac, we got your back,” Hondo says.

Deacon nods wordlessly, buttoning his blazer as he follows in your footsteps. His team looks on, sure that Deacon has control of the situation but is prepared to jump in if the situation calls for it.

“Deacon comes back with her glued to his side or that starry far-away look in his eye,” Luca announces. “Trust me.”

“My money’s on the first one. You see how she relaxed the moment her friends left? She’s just like him,” Tan points out.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Looks like you found your way to my table, too,” the man says behind you.

When you turn to face him, you step back. His jaw is tight, and his eyes look darker than they did inside.

“Change your mind about spending time with me, girlie?”

With your side to the door, you notice someone walk out, but don’t expect an arm to circle your waist a moment later.

“Hey, babe,” the man says. “What’s going on? Came back to the table and you were gone.”

Looking up at him, you sigh at the sight of his large, kind eyes. Trusting him, you relax against his side, raising a hand to press against his sternum.

“Sorry, handsome. This guy was waiting for his friends,” you explain.

“You need help finding your table or somethin’? This is a nice place, I’m sure they can help with that.”

The man clenches his fists at his side, looking between you and the man holding you to his side.

“Or do you need a different kind of help?”

The hand on your hip tightens, his touch still gentle as his voice drops. He’s defending you, angry for you, and though you don’t know why, you’re grateful.

“No, I’m good. Your ‘babe’ here might want to learn some manners, though.”

You press your hand against your guy’s chest when he tries to follow the man inside. Whispering your name to distract him, you sigh when his attention returns to you.

“I’m Deacon,” he replies. “Sorry for grabbing you.”

“Don’t apologize. Thank you. I don’t know what I was thinking walking out here alone.”

Your hand is still spread over his chest, his arm around your waist, and his hand rubbing soft circles on your hip. You know the moment has to end, but your desperation to draw it out outweighs your logic.

“Well, thank you, Deacon. You’re a great boyfriend; I’m sure there’s a very happy woman somewhere.”

Deacon’s hand moves to your waist as you move back, and he quickly raises the other to stop you. 

“There is no happy woman,” he responds. “I just- how often do you have to deal with stuff like that?”

“Not very often. Most guys get the idea, even if it takes a few tries. Never had to be saved like this before.”

Deacon sighs, disappointed either in you or the situation. You hope it’s the situation, and Deacon can practically read your mind.

“I’m a SWAT sergeant, and we have to watch for crossfire,” he begins.

You nod with furrowed brows, confused as to where this is going.

“I just will never understand how some men are so okay with not caring how many women they hurt in pursuing their own… whatever it is they’re looking for.”

“How? How is there no lucky woman?” you ask softly. “Between the kindness and the poetic speeches, you’re just begging to get snatched up.”

Deacon drops his chin, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Why’d you follow me?” you ask.

“You were uncomfortable. I noticed you before he sat down, and then when you stood up so fast I couldn’t just sit there. Especially when he followed you.”

“Then you can tell I don’t fit in here.”

“I can,” Deacon agrees before whispering, “because I don’t either.”

“Could you maybe ditch your friends?” you ask. “Let me call you handsome for a while longer?”

“You seem a bit too pleased to have a fake boyfriend who only came out here to scare somebody off.”

“Because my fake boyfriend is better than any real one I’ve ever had.”

Deacon smiles, pulling you against him. “I have to stay for dinner, it’s a work thing. But if you’re still up for pet names later, and tomorrow, and for a good, long while, I think we can work something out.”

“I will be.”

“Have your phone?”

You pull your phone from your pocket, unlock it, and hand it to him. He keeps one hand on your side as he adds his contact, sending himself a text with your name. After he returns your phone, he sighs.

“The moment’s over?” you ask.

 “The moment is on hold,” Deacon corrects.

“Enjoy your work dinner. I’m going to go have a free dinner and listen to my friends pretend they belong here.”

“Feel free to sit at my table if you need a break. I’m sure they’re talking about you already. Trying to decide if I’ll actually act on my feelings or just come back in alone and puppy-like.”

You smile, slowly separating yourself from Deacon. Walking in first, he holds the door for you, and you brush your knuckles against his hand before returning to your table. As you sit, your eyes stray to Deacon and never leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

“That little hand thing counts, right?” Tan asks.

“Counts for what?” Deacon inquires as he sits.

“I thought you’d come back with your arm around her.”

“We’re, uh, we’re gonna keep talking later.”

“Atta boy, Deac!” Luca cheers.

“Why didn’t you invite her over?” Hondo asks. “This may be a work thing, but that doesn’t mean it has to be boring.”

“I did. If she gets tired of her friends, she’ll be over.”

“Yeah,” you interject, pausing at the corner of their table. “I’m tired of my friends and your table seems like a better fit.”

Street, Luca, and Tan rush to pull a chair over for you, arguing over who gets the credit. You laugh at their antics as Deacon tells you everyone’s names.

“Nice to meet you. And thanks for letting me crash your dinner,” you say.

“So, what do you think of our Deacon here?” Luca asks, smiling kindly.

“I think he’s great,” you answer honestly. Turning toward him, you whisper, “And handsome.”

“Are pet names our thing now?” he asks.

“Hey, you started it, babe.”

Deacon dips his chin before his eyes rise to yours, and you think ‘beautiful’ might be a better fit for him. Luckily, he promised plenty of time to try all the pet names you can think of.

[hugsandharrystyles]

Are you wet right now?

Summary: You go on a vacation with your parents and their best friend's family. The only problem is their ridiculously hot son, Harry.

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: so much tension, teens being dumb, angst of course

Let me know if you want a part 2 with actual smut :))

You officially hate Harry Styles.

You hate his stupid hair, his stupid green eyes, his stupid hair, and especially his stupid abs.

You don't think from the minute your and his family stepped into the private resort you've seen him with a shirt on. And you get it, it's hot outside, and you're on vacation, but he doesn't even have the decency to put one on at dinner.

Honestly, the whole naked chest thing wouldn't bother you so much if he didn't get so much attention for it. The resort your and his family picked was private, but being a young, hot superstar makes you an easy target. It's almost as if this is the week all families with teenage girls decided to go on vacation.

It's the worst when you'll be goofing around with him like normal, and a group of girls in their bikinis crowd over him, not even sparing you a glance as they shove you out of the way. It's even worse that Harry does nothing about it.

You've known Harry since you were little. Your parents have always been friends, so it was kind of inevitable. You knew from a young age he was going to be something big- with his talent and charisma. You've watched from the sidelines how he's grown and came to stardom.

Though, you and Harry hadn't always been friends. When you were both thirteen, Harry had asked you to be his girlfriend. It was young and childish love, but it was sweet. You were his first girlfriend, and he was your first boyfriend. You even shared your first kisses together. You could never forget it. He was so nervous and shaky, and the kiss was inexperienced, but it was probably the best kiss of your life.

Until you were with Harry at a birthday party where everyone was playing spin the bottle, and Harry landed on Cheryl Taylor. He barely spared you a glance before leaning over and planting your his lips on her bubblegum-pink ones.

You ran out of the house and called your mom to come pick you up. Harry had tried to talk to you for a week, and you avoided him like the plague, which was hard since he was your neighbor. He ended up cornering you at school and apologizing profusely. He explained how he likes Cheryl now and that you were just his best friend. He was so young and so doe-eyed that you had no other option than to forgive him and go back to best friends. That was the start of Harry's everlasting feud with women. In no way was he a womanizer, but he loved sex and didn't have any want for a relationship.

"Y/N, sweetie, did you hear me?" Your mom snaps you out of your moment with her question. You're currently all (besides Harry, God knows where he is and who he's with) lounging at the pool, enjoying the summer breeze and warm sun.

"No, sorry," You answer and turn your head towards her.

"It's okay- said we'll need to head up to our rooms in about an hour to clean up and get ready for dinner. We have reservations at that fancy restaurant we saw when we were driving into town!" Your mom says excitedly, and you smile with her.

"Sounds good," You answer and turn your attention to the romance book in your hands, but before you could get very far, you hear your name being called.

"Y/N! Come in the water with me," You hear Harry's whiny voice call.

"'M good," You answer back, very obviously annoyed. You're still upset about the mob of girls who had literally pushed you to the ground earlier while trying to get closer to Harry. He hadn't even noticed.

"Oh, c'mon, babycakes. You still mad at me?" Harry asks, and you hear him splashing out of the pool. The sound of falling water droplets gets closer until you feel them start to drip onto your bare stomach.

"First, don't ever call me that again. Second, obviously I'm still upset you jerk," You scowl and almost punch him when he takes your book out of your hands, placing it on the table next to you.

"I said I was sorry!" He whines. You hear your mom and Anne laugh beside you.

"I got a bruise, Harry!" You whine back and pout at your forearm, showing him the bruise.

"Oh, shit, I didn't know it was that bad," Harry whispers, so your parents don't hear him curse.

"Yeah," You sigh. "Had to crawl my way out, and you didn't even care," You say dramatically.

"Stop it with that. You know I care about you the most," He assures, and before you can resist, he slots his wet body over yours, making you squeal.

"Ew! Get off me!" You scream, and hear your and his families' laughter.

"No," He whines and shakes his wet hair out. He lays his face in your neck. "I'm sorry, moppet. I wasn't thinking. Never would want you to get hurt."

"It's fine. I don't care. I was just messing with you."

"No, you weren't. Could tell you were upset, and I'm sorry I'm a dick," He says quietly and presses a soft kiss to your neck.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

"It's okay, seriously. Just- I don't know. It's fine, you goof." You wish to tell him how you really feel. How much you miss him when he's gone when you probably never cross his mind- the lack of texts proving to be true.

"Know I love you, right?" He asks as he perks his head up and grips your cheeks in his hands, smushing them together. You notice his eyes flicker to your lips but don't think too much about it.

"Yeah," You laugh nervously.

"What's with the hesitation?" He asks and releases his hold on your cheeks, instead cupping your neck, thumbs on your jaw, so he still has a bit of control over your face.

"Nothing- we just don't talk that much anymore. Haven't really since-"

"Harry, would you get off my daughter!" Your dad yells over, semi-joking. You laugh and push at Harry's shoulder. He gets up, but you can tell by his sorrowful facial expression that he's upset about something.

"Hey, what's-" Your cut off by a high pitched voice coming from the side of you.

"Oh my gosh. Are you Harry Styles?" The girl is probably about your age and very pretty. You can't help but sigh in defeat.

"That would be me. What's your name, pretty?" Harry's response feels like a knife to your heart, and you don't think twice before picking your book back up and tuning the conversation out. You do, however, peek your eyes over your book to see Harry walking away with the girl, arm around her shoulder- not even a glance back at you.

It's an hour later when you return to you and Harry's room. You hadn't seen Harry since he walked off with that girl, and you kind of hoped he wouldn't be back for dinner because you just didn't want to see him. Even after all this time, it's as if you can't completely squash your stupid crush on him.

You slide your keycard through the door and walk in, though, nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you.

Harry and the stranger-blonde are laying on his bed, practically grinding against each other in a heavy make out session. Your gasp is loud enough to break them out of their attraction, and you immediately hear them both curse.

"Shit!" Harry yells and pushes the girl off of him. She glares at the side of his face.

"You have a girlfriend?" She asks.

"No, no, she's just a friend."

Ouch.

"Um, I can just grab my things and go," You offer and make your way towards the bathroom to grab your makeup.

"No, Y/N-" Harry starts, but you cut him off.

"Seriously, it's fine. Um- I'll just find somewhere to get ready. You- uh- are obviously busy," You laugh embarrassingly. You quickly grab your things and your clothes and dart towards the door. You feel Harry grab your free wrist before you could make your great escape.

"Y/N, wait." His voice lowers so his guest couldn't hear. She was already mindlessly scrolling on her phone anyway, so it didn't even matter.

"What?" You ask.

"What's- why does this feel so... off?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Obviously it's going to be a little awkward because-"

"No, I mean like- I feel guilty? Like I've just messed everything up," He whispers, defeated.

"I don't know what you mean. I mean it's not like we're... together or anything." The words hurt as they come out of your mouth. "We're- um- we're cool." You put the fakest smile you could muster before walking out of the room. You hear him call your name as you speed-walk down the hallway to your parents' room.

Once you're ready, you and your parents trail downstairs to the resort's foyer where you all patiently wait for Anne and her husband. You're shocked that after waiting for five minutes, you see Harry's parents and Harry stepping out of the elevator and walking towards you guys. You immediately dart your eyes elsewhere as to not catch Harry's gaze.

"Are we ready to go?" Anne asks, and you all agree.

The car ride is insanely awkward. Having not known about what had happened an hour prior, your parents had squished you and Harry in the back by yourselves, and no words have been spoken. It's even more awkward because he's chosen to sit in the middle, so there is no space between the two of you.

"Hey," You hear Harry whisper to you. You hum mindlessly in response, nose in your book. "Can we just- can we talk? Please." The desperation in his voice almost makes you feel bad. Almost.

"Really nothing to talk about," You say quietly, trying to just focus on the words on the page in front of you. "I just need to stop getting my hopes up," You mumble.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks.

"Nothing, Harry. Just forget about it. We're good," You assure him, but you know he doesn't believe you. Instead of leaving you alone like you've asked, he takes your book out of your hands (making sure to bookmark your page) before tossing it to the floor of the car. "Hey!" You complain and go to grab it, but he captures your wrists in his hand and holds them to his stomach.

"What are you guys fighting about back there?" Anne and your mother turn around, confusion on their faces.

"He's being a menace," You seethe through your teeth.

"Hey- am not!" He whines. "I'm just trying to talk to her, but she won't get her nose out of her book!"

"You are ridiculous. I mean- first, you-"

"Shush!" Your mother cuts you off. Harry, always playing the victim, pouts and leans his face into your shoulder. "Look at him, Y/N. He misses you. Hand me the book," She demands.

"What?! You can't seriously be taking his side. You don't even know what happened!" You complain, and you scoff as Harry wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you entirely to close to his warm body.

"I don't care! You're both nineteen- I shouldn't be breaking up fights," Your mom says, but you can tell she's trying her best to not laugh.

"Fine," You mumble and hand her the book. Harry's acting like a needy puppy as he basically whimpers in the crook of your neck, his arms still snug around your body. You rest your hands on his arms and dramatically lay your head against the headrest and pout in self pity. That is until you suddenly feel something wet against your neck. "Hey, what are you doing?" You ask and shove at Harry's head. He practically growls, and you can see that he has the strap of your sundress in his mouth, gnawing on it like a child. You're taken back to childhood memories of Harry doing this when he's feeling 'small' or a bit anxious. "Oh my goodness," You sigh and settle to rubbing your hand up and down his back.

"I have to get a picture of this," You hear Anne whisper, and in a second you hear her phone clicking for a photo. The great part of Harry being an international superstar is that you know that picture will never be posted on anyone's Facebook.

After what seems like an eternity if a car ride, you’re finally pulling up to the restaurant. You begrudgingly pull Harry off of you so you could all exit the car and have it taken away by the valet. Harry ducks his head down in an attempt to not be seen and laces his fingers through yours. He's funny if he thinks this sweet act is getting him any tonight.

Your parents inform the hostess of your reservation, and you notice the way her eyes never leave Harry as she walks you to your table. His fingers finally leave yours as he pulls your chair out for you, and you resist the confused look you want to give him and just take the kindness.

It's not even two minutes later when the (very cute) waiter is appearing at your table with a smile shining your way. He asks for your drinks and tells you he'll be back in a minute for your orders, but not before flashing you one more smile.

"Seems like Y/N has an admirer," Anne laughs, and you blush.

"Oh, stop it. He's just being sweet," You mutter.

"He's- He's not sweet. He just smiled," Harry butts in, and you glare at him.

"Yeah, cause no one would ever want to flirt with me," You say, just to him.

"What? No- I didn't mean it like-"

"Okay, here are your drinks." The waiter appears again and this time gets your orders. The way he flirts with you makes you feel seen and wanted. It helps that he's attractive too- of course, no one could be more beautiful than Harry, though.

The night drawls on, and Harry gets weirder and weirder. He's getting increasingly more affectionate and lovey-dovey, and it makes a part of your stomach churn.

It's when you're all about to ask for the bill when your waiter comes out with a small bowl of ice-cream and sets it in front of you.

"Oh, I didn't ask for-"

"It's on the house, lovely," He winks and walks off, leaving you with a prominent blush and whistles sounding from your table.

"My goodness, Y/N," Your mother giggles, and her and Anne turn to gossip about your love life. You smile bashfully and look at Harry, about to rub it in his face that you're the one getting hit on for once, but you can't when you see the pitiful look on his face as he stares down at your ice-cream.

"Oh, what's wrong, bug?" You ask him, pinching his cheek and calling him the childhood nickname that always got him to smile. He grins dopily and leans his forehead on your shoulder to hide his blush. "What? Did you want to share my ice-cream?"

Harry wants nothing more than to tell you that's not what he's upset about, but he's stopped when you push him off and scoop some ice-cream onto your spoon. You hold your hand under the spoon as you direct it towards Harry's mouth, feeding him. He doesn't think he could ever hide the grin of you doing something so domestic with him as if he was your husband.

Suck it, waiter-boy.

You and Harry have just finished your desert when you're getting up and excusing yourself to the washroom. Once you've finished, you exit the restroom and are about to walk back to your table when you feel a gentle hand on your wrist. Your waiter.

"Oh! Hello," You laugh.

"I'm so sorry to be so absurd, but I couldn't live with myself knowing I let you walk out of here without at least trying to take you out on a date," He says bluntly. "It's no secret that I think you're stunning, is it?" He laughs, and you laugh as well.

"Is that so? Don't think I noticed," You play it off with a giggle.

"Can I please give you my number?" He asks, flashing you his best puppy-dog eyes.

"Yes, but..."

"Oh no, not a but," He dramatically cries, and you laugh. He's funny and cute. Maybe he's just what you need to get over Harry. "C'mon, we don't have much longer. You're family's already paid, and I'm off the clock, sugar."

"I didn't bring my phone with me! And if I go out to my table to grab it, they'll make a huge scene!" You whine, and he gasps with fake shock.

"What will we ever do?" He jokes, acting as if he's faint.

"If you keep making fun of me, I am going to kick you where the sun doesn't shine," You attempt to threaten, but you can't hold back your laughter.

"Here," He says and grasps your arm in his hand. He reaches into his pocket for a pen and starts writing his number on your arm. "Don't have my phone on me either, so this will have to do. Don't you dare wash your arm on your way back to your table," He jokes, and you laugh.

"Wouldn't dream of it," You say sweetly. "Okay! I have to go. They're going to think I fell in the toilet or something," You say, getting the cute waiter to clutch his stomach in a heavy laugh. Once he gathers himself, you quickly kiss his cheek in goodbye and run off to your table, guarding your arm with your life.

Your family is hardly waiting for you when you return, and you plop yourself back into your seat and pretend to engage in the conversation.

"Hey, what's that on your arm?" You hear Anne's voice drag you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, um- the waiter found me and gave me his number," You mumble bashfully and fail to hide the blush on your cheeks.

"You're blushing!" Your dad has to embarrass you. You're about to reply when a splash of cold liquid makes your sentence get caught in your throat. It's all over your lap and arms, and you try not to cause a scene.

"Whoops!" You hear from beside you, and you see Harry grab a napkin and start to wipe you off. Before you can stop him, he rubs at your arm, smearing the phone number so it's unreadable.

"Harry!" You gasp. Your eyes meet his, and they tell you the truth. "You did that on purpose! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Your mother shushes you as people start to stare, but it goes right over your head.

"What, no- why would I-"

"You did! You've been acting weird the entire night! Do you just not want me to be happy?!" You ask, and when he can't answer, you huff and practically sprint to the doors of the restaurant. You don't make it very far away before there's a hand on your wrist and you're being pulled into a quiet alley- out of sight from people. "Let me go," You protest and try to shake Harry's hands off of you, but they're strong on your shoulders.

"Just listen to me, would'ya?!" He asks, obviously agitated with himself.

"No- Fuck you!" You retort and continue to struggle in his hold. Then, you feel his hands on your face, and ,suddenly, his face is extremely close to yours. He's going to kiss you. He's going to kiss you for the first time since you were both thirteen. It's all you've ever wanted, so why do you push him away? "No, no, no," You tut and push him off of you. "Are you crazy?" You shout.

"Hey! Are you two coming?" Your mom suddenly appears around the corner. You shrug yourself away from Harry and turn to your mom.

"Yeah, we're coming," You say and glare at Harry who is looking at you with puppy-dog eyes. You roll your eyes and trail off behind your mom. You all make it to the car, and there is obvious tension in the air with the scene you created, but you don't care and just plug in your earbuds, turning yourself away from everyone. You can feel Harry's longing stare from beside you, but you don't give him any attention. You almost jump when you feel your phone buzz in your lap- having being so zoned out.

Harry: Talk to me.

Sigh.

You roll your eyes and set your phone on the seat in between you and Harry. Several buzzes come through before you're opening your phone in annoyance.

Harry: I'm sorry.

Harry: Actually, I'm not.

Harry: Wait. I'm sorry about the water thing, but I am not sorry for trying to kiss you.

Harry: You're so cute when you're mad.

Harry: Actually you're cunt all the time.

Harry: Autocorrect. I meant cute.

You: Stop texting me... Cunt.

You see Harry laugh out of the corner of your eye.

Harry: Stop being irresistible, and I would.

You: Ew.

Harry: You love me.

Ouch.

You: That's the problem.

You send the message and then immediately drop your phone, face-down, into your lap and stare out the window next to you.

For the next half-hour, the car was relatively quiet. You were almost ecstatic when you see the familiar hotel come into view. You were the first one to jump out of the car and practically run into the building. You thought you would so lucky as to get a moment of peace by yourself, but that dream is quickly squashed when someone's hand sneaks in between the elevator doors last minute.

"Thanks for waiting up," Harry says sarcastically. You don't give him the satisfaction of a response. The air is stiff as the elevator starts to move. And then, suddenly, it comes to a halt. A very abrupt stop. "What the hell?" Harry says, and immediately after, all the lights, except for one emergency one, shuts off, leaving you two in a very dim light. It was just enough to see each other. It was enough for Harry to see the anxiety on your face.

"Knew I should've taken the stairs- Oh God." You can already feel your breathing becoming uneven.

"Hey, hey, it's okay- we'll be alright," He assures you and presses a kiss to the top of your head. He then presses the emergency call button and begins talking to the hotel staff for about five minutes. They explain that you two might be stuck up there for a few hours.

Great.

In the midst of the craziness, you had resorted to scrunching yourself into one of the corners of the elevator, trying to keep your mentality in check.

"Looks like we'll be in here for a while, moppet," Harry sighs and sits down against the wall opposite of you. You hum in agreement and keep your face pressed into your knees. "Might as well use this time to clear the air, huh?" He asks, and your breath hitches.

"Don't need to talk about anything," You answer simply.

"No?" He asks condescendingly.

"You're a jerk. That's about it," You say, raising your face to finally look at him.

"Oh, I am?"

"Are you just going to ask a question every time I say something, or are you actually going to talk?"

"Explain to me how I'm a jerk, please," He asks, genuinely wanting to know your side.

"I can't," You whisper, hiding your face again.

"Why not?"

Screw it.

"You know what? I'll talk," You decide. "You're not going to like it and will probably think I'm a freak, but I don't even care anymore." You take a deep breath and lift your head.

"Y/N, what are you talking about?" Harry asks, clearly confused.

"You remember when we were thirteen and we dated?" You ask bluntly. He's clearly taken aback.

"Um- well, yeah. We were each other's first kisses," He smiles as if remembering the memory.

"Yeah. And then at a party you went and kissed Cheryl Taylor and totally blew me off. You didn't even look back to see if I was okay! God, I get that we were thirteen, but Harry, I really liked you, and you didn't even care. We went back to best friends, and you acted like nothing happened, but I couldn't forget- I still can't. The way you blow me off when you even catch a glimpse of a girl- it makes me realize you haven't changed since we were thirteen, and I don't think you ever will. You don't text or call when you go on tour. I text, I try to call, so don't you dare ever try to put some weird manly claim on me just because you can. It's not fair that I love you in a way I'll never be able to shake when you can just toss me to the side when it's inconvenient for you."

The end of your speech had the air running cold. Harry was silent, stoic. His eyes were slightly wide and glassy- hands fidgeting as if they didn't belong in his own skin.

"I don't- um, I don't know what to say," Harry whispers after a few minutes of muteness.

"I know. You don't have to say anything. I get it."

"You don't- that's what I'm trying to figure out how to say-"

"Don't. Don't do that," You cut him off. "That's the worst thing you could do right now." Your voice shakes. "Don't you dare try to tell me you 'loved' me out of pity."

"But what if it's true?" He counters.

"Then you have a real strange way of showing it."

That shuts him up for a minute, enough time to let you collect yourself again.

"Look, I know it was a lot to spring on you, so it's probably making you think some things you don't actually feel-"

"Then why would I have gotten so mad at the restaurant? I had no idea about how you felt, so explain that," He counters. You're caught there for a moment.

"I don't know, but obviously your affections aren't very meaningful if you were sucking some other girl's face literally three hours ago."

"Fuck, I know how this looks, but it seriously didn't mean anything. I didn't even know how you felt about me! You can't blame this all on me when you never said anything!" He's starting to get riled up now. Harry's used to getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and you're not making this easy on him.

"You're such a brat. Stop whining and take responsibility."

"Oh, I'm the brat?! You've been fucking whining this whole trip, and it could've been you I was pounding into the mattress if-"

"I'm whining because I love you!" You yell.

"Well, so do fuckin' I!" He counters back, both of you staring at each other intensely and breathing like you've just run a marathon. Just as he's about to say something, a voice sounds through the elevator's speaker.

"It seems a though the fire department got here much quicker, so you two should be out within the next five minutes!" The awfully chipper lady informs you.

"This isn't fucking over," He practically growls at you as you start to hear the elevator being pried open.

"Oh, until you drop to your knees and beg for my forgiveness, we're not talking."

"Think it'll be the other way around, babe," He answers back slyly, and you know the games have just begun.

[rosesbxrry]

Cabin fever

Pairing: Boyfriend! Sunghoon X Girlfriend! Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞(Minors DNI), established relationship! AU, 

Warnings: Hard and mean Dom! Sunghoon, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), cream pie, temperature play, cabin sex, fellatio (blowjob), throat fucking, ass spanking, slut shaming, degradation, Sunghoon calls you doll so much, reverse cowgirl, lots of teasing in his end, slight orgasm denial, slight nipple play. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: All you wanted was to escape the frigid December and spend more time with your boyfriend, Sunghoon, as the Christmas holiday urged you to do something together only to end up in a Ski Resort— courtesy of his idea. Still, at least the cabin you will be staying in was worth it, but Sunghoon had other plans during your trip. 

"Don't lie to me and say you never thought of us fucking while we're here."

A Holiday Special: ➜ Sunghoon

| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Jake |

Main masterlist

Word count: 4,087 words

a/n: I can’t believe this would be the last one for the holiday special 😱 it has been a month of non-stop writing and I’m proud of myself for finishing this eventhough I’m way past the holiday mood already 🤡 Anyways, thank you to everyone who stuck around until the end 🫶

It had to be said that— Winter is a very perplexing season, and you weren't for nor against the juncture that foreshadows spring. 

When you woke up the following day after a heavy snowfall, your world was stripped of its life. Snow covered the color of nature into a temporary slumber, depriving your surroundings of any signs of existence, minus the people living there. 

Shoveling the driveway and sidewalk was equally annoying as driving on the slippery, damp road. Doing something as simple as throwing the trash out was a hassle as you had to ensure you were dressed appropriately to avoid getting frostbite and wearing layers of clothing just to be outside for five minutes. 

The last straw was when you woke up in the middle of the night, itching to use the toilet, only to scream loudly at how cold the seat was. You didn't own one of those fancy Japanese toilet warmers, so you had to persevere with only what you had. 

The only saving grace to the coldest season was Christmas, the holiday you enjoyed the most in every aspect possible. It was the time of the month when you got to spend some time with your family and loved ones, which was why you were excited to celebrate the occasion with Sunghoon. 

As per tradition, both of you took turns taking responsibility for setting up a game plan for your Christmas dates. Whether it be a fancy candlelit dinner or a stay-at-home watching movies kind of vibe— it didn't really matter as long as you could spend some quality time together as a couple. 

You didn't expect him to book something outside the area, which you didn't mind since it's been so long since you've been to a vacation spot for a date. The problem lies when you find out that the place your boyfriend, who knew that the cold was the bane of your existence, had graciously reserved was a Ski Resort. 

Which alludes that skiing was in the itinerary or even the only entertainment there is within the vicinity. Heck, since when did he even ski in the first place? 

The place was situated on the outskirts of town, surrounded by the outdoor wilderness but more so pine timbers and mountains that seemed as frigid as the cold December. You were worried about altitude sickness at how high up the resort was, but that wasn't the case after sliding through the pistes and utilizing the ski lift multiple times. 

Although, you could get down to the log cabin where you would lodge for the rest of the trip.

It was the epitome of a picturesque accommodation, fitted for the cozy and warm vibes it provided as you lay on the woolly sofa after spending half of the day outside skiing in the snow. 

"I'm so tired." You drawled, stretching your legs and resting your head on the back of the sofa. 

Your face was numb with all the cold wind blowing on your facial skin, wanting nothing more than to stuff yourself on a pile of blankets. Still, you enjoyed the activity more than you anticipated. 

"What happened to Miss this is stupid, I don't even know how to ski and her complaints?" Sunghoon snorted in amusement, feeling the cushion deep as he sat beside you. The high points of his pale face were also flushed from the cold. 

You kick his shin with your foot lightly. "Hush, Sunghoon. That's all in the past now. We need to start living in the future."

Your shameless allude caused him to grin knowingly, and you tried to salvage your remaining dignity to prevent stroking the already big ego that he was right about the trip. 

"Can you add more wood to the fire? It's seriously getting a bit cold here." You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. 

The words you said were to distract and send him away from the subject matter, but now that you were conscious of the drop in temperature, chills went down your spine. 

It was getting cold in the cabin, evident by how your fingers were getting tingles as you held them close to your mouth. The masonry heater that warms up the place had probably started to die out since the morning you left to go skiing. 

That was the drawback of experiencing a multipurpose rental cabin; the one-layer log walls were also built to be used in the summer, which is why the insulation was pretty much crap. 

It didn't help that you were surrounded by a secluded forest, so if you and Sunghoon didn't keep the heater well ignited throughout the day, there was a high chance that both of you would end up freezing to death in this weather. 

"Come here, let me help warm up your hands." Sunghoon said, reaching out to take your left hand in his. 

You didn't think much, guessing that he'll put your hand in the pocket of his winter jacket. So, you instinctively relax your arm and let him guide it near his body— only for him to place it right on his crotch.

"What the— Sunghoon!" You yelled, obviously not amused by his sudden inappropriate behavior as you tried to pull your hands away from his growing bulge. 

He proved to be much more substantial; his grip on your hand didn't falter at your pathetic attempts to free yourself were to no avail. Sunghoon laughed at your annoyed expression, watching you struggle as he adjusted his hands that intertwined with yours to let you grope more of his size. 

"I'm literally freezing to my bones and the only thing you could do is to succumb to your own horny ass?" You protest through gritted teeth. 

Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders. "I told you I'll help you warm up your hand…..never said how though." 

You gave him an unbelievable stare, rolling your eyes while obviously used to his obnoxious antics of railing you up. 

"I'm being serious here." You reminded him, not swayed by his little charade. 

He snorted, giving you one dark look between his bangs. You yelped in surprise when he yanked your hand towards him, causing your upper arm and shoulder to fall flush on his lap. Some of your weight had transferred to your palm as you tried to keep the leverage to stare up at him. 

This action made you realize how hard he was under your hand. 

"I'm being serious too." He whispered an octave lower as he smirked down at you with a hungry glint that made you swallow. 

"Don't lie to me and say you never thought of us fucking while we're here." He raised an eyebrow, watching your cheeks flush as his words hit a home run. 

You can't pretend that it never crossed your mind that this trip would be the perfect setting for a bad plot line of a porno. There was an outdoor jacuzzi and even a fireplace in your shared bedroom— all the proper setup ensues the wild fantasy swimming in your mind, or maybe you were just as horny as he was. 

You grunted in defeat, and he watched you with a smug smile when you began to pull on the front of his pants. 

"Not a word, Park." You grumbled. 

He licks his lower lips, stopping himself from grinning wider as he helps you tug his pants to his thighs and free his hard cock from the confinements of his briefs.

Sunghoon let out a hiss when you began pumping his length; the delicious contact of your cold hands against the hot skin of his head and the underside of his veins got him winching in pleasure at the sensation. 

"I knew you'd come around," He said as you adjusted to lay your chin on his lap, body outstretched on the sofa on your chest and stomach, hands never ceased to jerk him slowly. "My dick is just that good, huh?" 

"You know, you're so much hotter with your mouth shut closed." You said, his words getting on your nerves. 

Sunghoon crackled at your annoyed expression. "While you—" 

He grabs a bunch of your hair behind your head, tugging forward until your face is inches away from his stiff erection. His other hand rested on your ass cheeks, kneading the ample flesh roughly until you whined at the sensation.

"—look so much hotter with your mouth open, full of my cock." 

You caved in to the directing action of his grip on your hair, opening your mouth as he guided you to shove his length past your lips. 

Sunghoon was not only ridiculously long, but his thick girth stretched the corner of your lips beyond its capacity. He was throbbing against the inside of your mouth as you slowly inhaled most of his size; the remaining length left was occupied for you to jerk him off. 

"My girl just wanted something to suck on, huh?" He said, shivering at the juxtaposition sensation of your hot mouth engulfing his cock as opposed to the cold temperature of the surrounding. 

When you withdraw with only his head around your lips, you dart your tongue at his swollen slit, precum dribbling out to coat your taste bud before encasing the majority of his length again in a suckling motion. 

The cold chills you felt before had dissipated, your body warming up as you relentlessly bobbed your head up and down his length more crudely by the second. 

His groans hitched when you ran your warm tongue over the large vein on his length, hollowing your cheeks to suction him back and forth so filthily that he didn't even need to move his hips to thrust into your throat— you were already doing it yourself, and he can't help but found the sight to be pure ecstasy. 

"Such a whore for my cock." He breathed out, watching you through half-lidded eyes. "Could never get enough watching you slut your mouth out for me." 

You would love to look up and gauge his reaction, but it proved to be complicated. 

Every time his swollen tip would press on the soft palate of your mouth and poke at the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as all you could do was suck harder around his cock. 

It drives you crazy at how solid and big he was, filling the cavern of your mouth to the brim and forcing you to breathe through your nostrils at the lack of space. 

Your hands wrap around the base of his cock with whatever you weren't able to fit, feeling yourself rutting on the sofa at the sensation of your aching clit pooled with your own juices. 

Sloppy noises filled the air as you quickened your pace, humming around his cock as waves of vibrations sent signals for him to let out a few low groans.

It didn't help that the movement of your chin was digging into his tight balls. 

"Fuck, that's it." He encouraged you, toes curling as his pending release was on edge. He pulled your hair tighter, melting at how eager you were to fuck your throat with his dick. "Take me deeper, doll." 

You spurred into action, loosening the tension by unhinging your jaw and swallowing him until his cock pressed on your throat incessantly. With tears stinging your eyes, you remain stagnant in your position, diving deep down until you feel like choking. 

The sensation of your hot, gummy throat on his erect head for such a prolonged duration made him lose it— Sunghoon eyes flew to the ceiling, and his head lolled to the side as he released with a loud curse. 

He defiled your opening with ropes of his musky cum. You gulped down his hot seed rapturously and pumped his length to milk out every last drop of him. 

"Fuck, you're unreal." He slurred, leaning on the back of the sofa to watch you with blown-out eyes, thighs feeling sore with the weight of your shoulders on his lap. 

The beautiful sight of you smacking your lips around his length winded him in delight. Despite the drool and white mess dripping down your chin, you lick his cum nice and clean for him to witness. 

"Messy girl, you're drooling everywhere." He cooed, putting a palm on the crown of your head. 

Your jaw was sore from sucking him off, but you opted to swirl his tip around the roof of your mouth like he was fine wine. His taste was so addictive that you couldn't help but play with him for a little longer. 

"What can I say," You mumbled with his cock still in your mouth, looking up at him with a seductive stare. "I'm a slut for your cock, aren't I?"

Letting his head poke the inside of your cheek, you made sure he saw the prominent bulge that formed on your face. 

Sunghoon inhales a deep breath. 

You knew you unleashed the beast within; his eyes turned dark and cold as he roughly held your jaw to yank your mouth away, feeling his nails dig into the skin. You almost moan pathetically at the way he swallowed hard, anticipation sending waves of enticing pleasure to your clit because you knew—

He was gonna ruin you to hell. 

"Enough." His voice tightened, his command being the epitome of dominance. His thick eyebrows furrowed, expression morphed into raw hunger. You rubbed your thighs together, excitement coursing through your veins when he pulled on the waistband of your trousers. 

"That smart mouth of yours needs to stop being fucking greedy." He asserts, manhandling your body until you are straddling on either side of his thighs, giving him a good view of your back as you face away from him. 

The cold air of the frigid cabin made you shudder as your trousers were long thrown on the floor, leaving you vulnerable with your lace panties. Sunghoon pulled the soaked middle to the side, the bundled material wedged between the crack of your ass. 

You sigh when the chilly air hits your exposed and damp folds. 

"I want your pussy to do all the fucking this time" Sunghoon squeezed a handful of the soft flesh, massaging it teasingly until it bulged between his deft fingers, enough to make you whimper in agony.

"So prepare yourself and ride me real good." He urged, hands moving to your sides. 

Still suspended in mid-air above his lap, adrenaline bristled your body as you reached back to grip his cock, positioning his tip against your tender entrance while he lowered you down by your love handles. 

Everything shifts into an upward spiral, feeling him stretch your walls deliciously as you sink down on his hard cock. 

"Ahh—haaahh— fuck." You gasp for air, chest rising and falling erratically as you take him inch by inch until you bottom out and are fully seated on his lap. 

"So fucking deep….." 

You feel winded by the sheer volume of his cock  even though you've had him a million times before. Still, your position allowed him to reach the deepest part of your crevice, already clamping around his length before he could even move. 

Sunghoon seemed delighted with your reaction, leaning forward until his hot breath fanned the nape of your neck and toned chest flushed to your back. 

"You love it when I go deep into you, don't you?" he hummed, licking the outer shell of your ear before nibbling at the wet spot. "Love it when I split your pussy with my big cock, right, doll?" 

"I love it….fuck…I love it so much….." Your voice was slurred with drunkness, head spinning with vertigo overwhelming your consciousness at his words when you finally felt the desperation to move— grinding down on your hips to slowly test the waters.  

After enduring the initial adjustment, you finally move in and out of him, and my god, did you erupt out the most euphoric moan at the sensation of his length dragging against your hot walls. 

"Look at you go, bouncing on my cock like a slut you are." His defiling praises only fueled the knot burning in your stomach, your juices leaking around him as it lubricated the movement of your drop and fall. 

In the moment of delirious high, you didn't realize that he pulled the last article of clothing to keep you away from the biting temperature. It only registered in your mind when he roughly peeled your bra off, exposing your upper body to the cold air of the bleak cabin. 

You were sure the heater had died off at this point, basking your figure in the arctic air.

Sunghoon cupped your bouncing breast from behind; his large cold hands engulfed the pair with a tight grasp. Goosebumps flares on your skin by the coldness, and it gets worse when he kneads the flesh in a circular motion, index fingers flicking your erect nipples back and forth. 

"Wait— stop!" You begged, but the male continued playing with your breast and hardened nipple, ignoring your request with a coy smirk. 

"Why? Don't you like it when I play with your nipples like this?" You could feel the teasing grin plastered on his face at the back of your neck. You buck your hips when he pinches your tits, pulling them away slightly in a torturous manner. 

"Fuck, its too cold, Sunghoon." 

The throbbing pleasure came in waves, from your stuffed pussy to your sensitive breast, and it only intensified at how icy his fingers were.

"Cold? Then if I do this—" 

Nothing in the universe could prepare you for the sensation of his cold finger on your clit, and you almost lurch forward from his lap if he hadn't held you down with a strong arm around your waist. 

The temperature change was too much for your swollen clit to handle, and strings of broken moans escaped your lips that you almost choked on your saliva. The sensation hurts enough to morph oddly into agonizing pleasure that you've never felt before. 

Fuck, this is crazy. 

While you were losing your mind, Sunghoon was enraptured by the feeling of your cunt clenching and contracting around him. You were so tight, so wet that he couldn't help but rub circles around your clit rapidly to elicit more of your sweet spasm. 

"No— stop. Hahhahh— please stop, it's too much." 

You were sobbing in deep torment at this point, trying to clamp your thighs shut to slow his pace down. You lean back on his chest as your body grows dull by the pleasure every second, your thigh burning from riding him for too long.

Sunghoon was dissatisfied with your current state, apparent with how he stopped playing with your tits and clit, baring his fangs to bite between the junction of your neck harshly. 

"Too much?" Sunghoon let out an exasperated laugh punctuated with an edge of rage that you were all too familiar with. "You really are an ungrateful slut." 

With his arms around your waist to haul you up, you were pushed down on the wooden floor on all fours. Sunghoon made sure to realign his cock to nudge you deeper, your position with your ass up and head down made you at his mercy. 

"I gave you all the pleasure you need, yet, it's too much? Don't make me laugh." He spat, pulling you closer by the hips roughly.

The drag of your puffy nipples against the stone-cold floor at his action stings your eyes, droplets of salty tears dripping down your cheeks. The complaint died in your throat— you were afraid of what he'll do beyond if he ever heard another plea from you. 

Sunghoon can be grueling and hard on you, but maybe it was the internal masochist that kept you whining in pleasure at his forceful touch. 

"Move." He commands. 

You lay stagnant on the floor; the lack of proper spatial consciousness made you unable to compute what he meant, causing him to land a firm slap on your tender ass cheek. 

The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed throughout the space, leaving a redden splotch behind. You jolt slightly from the impact, curling your toes in anticipation when you feel the wind of a second collision— only it never came. 

Sunghoon loves how your drenched pussy clings onto his cock tighter, finding amusement when he teases for a second slap. Fuck, he found solace that you wanted to be spanked by him, and he'll do it wholeheartedly until you come, but that beats the point of punishing you. 

"Don't let me tell you twice." 

You swallowed down and mustered up the last remaining strength you had in your lower half, snapping back at his cock begrudgingly slowly but enough for him to be content for following his order. 

"See, it wasn't that hard to follow my orders, right?" He rubs on the sore spot of your ass with his thumb comfortingly. "Such a needy little thing."

You cried out in your folded arms, pushing back until the head of his cock kissed the deepest part of your pussy. Persevering that your abused tits would rub the cold floor every time you move, you clench your fist and push back faster and harder to satisfy him. 

Sunghoon was at the edge of coming, tilting his head back and watching your ass jiggle with every movement. His abdomen tensed up with eyebrows furrowed, feeling you milking him dry— until you stopped moving your hips abruptly before he could come undone.

"What the fuck?" He groans, almost offended by the sudden halt. 

You could have let him have his way with you, but instead, you were digging your grave in an attempt to relinquish some sort of control over him. 

"I—I'm not gonna let you come, Sunghoon." You breathe out, feigning bravery to utter those words even with your compromised position. 

There was a pause in the air before Sunghoon outright laughed. 

"Think you're so tough now, doll? Saying I can't cum?" Rather than taking it seriously, he snides in adoration at your attempt of defiance because, in the end, what fun will it be without some challenge? 

"Fuck, you're adorable." Smoothing the curve of your ass to the arch of your back, his chuckle derives from the depth of his chest as he bit his lower lips to control his grin. "You're so cute, baby." 

Your face burned at his genuine remarks. 

The dominant energy he possessed previously dissolved a bit, holding your hips more sensually as he started pistoning his hips. The knot in your stomach rekindled, and his cock slid in and out of your cunt easily at the amount of arousal dripping out.

"My cute girl likes becoming my cum slut, doesn't she?" Sunghoon crooned, sloppily railing you slowly but slamming back once he was deep in you. "Do you want it, baby? Do you want me to fill your hole with my seed? 

"Yes, yes— Sunghoon, I'm gonna cum…." You hiccuped. 

At this point, the buildup of numerous torturous stimulation was clawing you to the brink of insanity, wanting nothing more than to cum around his cock until you could see stars. 

Sunghoon understood the immediate signs of your nearing orgasm, humping the floor and crying his name uncontrollably— he gave all his strength in one last thrust before you burst by the seams.

Your climax blinds you over with euphoric waves that overwhelm your entire being. You were burning up inside but shuddered simultaneously on the cold floor, feeling like a fever taking over your release with sweet respite. 

It didn't take long for Sunghoon to come as well, filling you up with his hot load as he promised. He fuck you through your orgasm, suspending you on cloud nine in the afterglow until you turn limp. 

Huffing and puffing occupied the silence as you lay flat on the floor, exhaustion taking over the muscles of your body. As you clench and unclench when he pulls out, the abundant milky arousal oozes out of your spent hole on your thighs. 

"Are you okay? Did I take it too far?" Sunghoon hovers over your lower body, kissing softly on the bruised spot on your ass guiltily.

"Did you?" You snort sarcastically, obviously perpetuating that it isn't with the way you're utterly numb. Sighing blissfully at the feeling of his soft lips on your stinging flesh, you had only one thing on your mind that made him laugh. 

"I think my nipples are frozen." 

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A Holiday Special: ➜ Sunghoon

| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Jake |

[gildedkrone]

KINKTOBER 2023 🔞

Price is a man starved.

He moves with all the grace he’s known for, amidst your noises of petulance as he nudges his dick to push against your rim.

The act of sex is sacred to him; keeper of the pleasure you feel when you’re with him. He won’t lie, he’s had sugar babies before he met you. But none of them fail to incite the firestorm in him which brings out a version of himself from his younger and more voracious years.

Voracious for pleasure and love.

Price is a man seeking companionship in a world where glitter and glamour rule. The neighbourhood is fancy but devoid of the human touch; the people who live here bumble and walk like idiots through streets of crowds. Fools, he relegated them.

He moans when the head of his dick pushes past the rim and into tight heat.

Price knows it’s not meant to last as it with many things in the world. The more beautiful, the easier it’s to break—it’s the word of nature; its dominion is what all humans lived in.

Your hips are the altar of his faith, and he is nothing more than a needy man tonight. He want to feel, to shut down the part of his brain always in control and over assessing every situation and threat. Price just want to be a person tonight and with the body writhing underneath him, he sees the light at the end of the tunnel.

Sometimes, the light just seems so far but he knows it’s here tonight. He tastes sweetness on your lips, the wine you drank—a chardonnay at his request and with your pants as his hands pin them to the seatback, he dives in for another kiss.

A kiss between a sugar daddy and a sugar baby in a parked car on the hills of Alexandra Palace turning into something more than chaste kisses and touches in the car on the way to dinner.

Price is loaded and he knows enough to know where money flows might bring with it joy. Pleasure, even. He eyes the slack jaw and he knows it.

He knows pleasure when he sees it.

His money buys him everything he wants, and it buys your affection. It buys your time, your attention on him which he desperately wants—the man preens under your affection all the time. It buys your dignity, if the things he does to you are indicative of his intentions.

You’re a fool drowning in pleasure, and he is a fool drowning in the sin as nectar and in the car, he fucks you as if he life depends on it. The thrusts are deep, and they are full body sensations when he hits it home in strong cadences of a man starved for touch.

You don’t seem to mind what he does, he does it so damn well and without the usual baggage that comes with hook ups over the internet. Price splurges on you constantly. He wants to be the man to take care of you and the Patek Phillipe watch on your wrist is just the latest of his purchases.

He would buy the world for you if you were to just ask. Anything your heart desires and with his connections and money—nothing is too hard and everything is worth if only to keep your heart with him.

What is the price of your heart?

He doesn’t think he knows, but he damn well wants to try to find out. It starts small, with little trinkets such as flowers and chocolate. It graduates fast, to fancy dinners and eventually, to first class flights across the country at his beck and call and luxurious resorts in the alps of Courchevel for an impromptu ski trip in February.

The banker gets a stern talking to when the bank cancels his cards on the account of fraudulent purchases and he gives them a piece of his mind. Three months into the relationship, he gifts you a card. A black AMEX card with your name on it and tied to his accounts.

He hopes it’s reason to stay and he’s dismayed when there’s no spending on it. He confronts you—it ends in a fight and he explains gently you are meant to spend on his card.

Put all of your spending on his card. It’s what the sugar in sugar daddy meant.

He revels in the noises of the coupling and finds your mouth in a sloppy kiss in the dark  of the car. It’s all he can focus on when he’s waited weeks to see you. Lines of pleasure tangle into something fierce and burning in his loins when you squeeze down on his cock snugly.

He’s happy to see there’s spending on the card. Groceries from Aldi and an occasional tube ticket here and there. He thinks back to the time when he returned home to food you prepared for dinner. Chicken curry with fragrant rice and the words died on his tongue. The restaurant reservation is cancelled immediately without you being aware and he fucks you differently that night.

He fucks you differently ever since then. The urgency is replaced by a sense of longing and tenderness that muddles your head and his. You fuck with his instincts, and he fucks your body the way he wants to. His hands leave imprints into your hips and sweat runs off his body onto yours.

The air in the car is heated and he knows he’s compromised. Purely transactional relationship? Price scorns at the thought of that. Not when he came to a clean apartment with his clothes all laundered and folded neatly on his bed. A warm meal waits for him and a bottle of Chardonnay opened on the dining table and your warm embrace.

Tomorrow can wait, and Price doesn’t care for it. He doesn’t long for it to come, if only to draw out what he’s feeling right now. Dinner is the prelude to this and he hand roams your body to anchor it to him. To keep it from leaving him in this fleeting pleasure.

Fuck the day waiting, all he wants to do is leave scars on your heart. As proof he has been here before. Ruin you, desecrate you, and make you cry in his name. He’s possessive, and Price balks at the idea of sharing you with another person.

He knows his money won’t be enough eventually to be a reason to stay, and he so desperately wants to know—what’s the price of your heart?

What would make you give it to him? A sugar daddy you met on an online dating site working in the military with long periods of absences.

He’s worried you will ask for his companionship. More affection and more attention. His previous sugar babies wanted those, and when he failed to give, they left with the wind.

He doesn’t want this to happen with you.

You feel so right, and it’s something he likes with all of his heart.

For now, Price will give you the world and all its constituents, if you wanted material things. And deep down, he knows if you want his heart, he will consider an end to his military career. You make him want things he’s resisted all of his life.

And it scares him to know you have such a profound effect on his life, especially not when you are taking him so well and crying his name over and over again when his balls slam against your skin. Eventually, you cum first with a shout of his name as his teeth breaks the skin on your shoulders and he follows while fucking you through his orgasm until cum spills out from your rear.

Make you cry and fuck up your life. Maybe you just are something he likes and need to have. He wipes you down with a spare towel in the car and when you look at him like that, he wants to tell you to stop but he doesn’t.

He settles for a chaste kiss before starting the car up to take you home. Tomorrow isn’t here for a few hours, so he settles for having you for today. And for as long as he can without having to face the questions he has no answers to. If only he knew, all he has to do is stay.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist

[m0nsterqzzz]

Fluff Alphabet with Natasha Romanoff

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x gn reader

summary: fluff alphabet with Natasha Romanoff/some of my headcannons of her

a/n: literally had so much fun writing this and now I want to do one with all the marvel characters.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

A: Affection (how do they show affection/are they good at it?)

Natasha is a very closed off person, but she never misses a chance to prove how much she loves you whether that's leaving you sweet notes to find when she leaves early for a mission, cooking you dinner so you can relax, or cuddling you in bed on a day off. She wasn't very good at it at first as she was raised with the phrase, “love is for children” but she definitely warmed up after a while. Her love language is 100% words of affection and acts of service.

Beauty: (what does she think makes her s/o beautiful?)

She loves your smile as cheesy as it. She also loves when she's dating someone understanding and has a good work ethic. She loves dating someone who understands when she closes herself off or works long hours because she's not doing it to mean, it's just how she deals with things.

Comfort: (how she comforts her s/o when they're dealing with a rough day)

Once again, acts of service and words or praise are her love language so she'll definitely spend time in the kitchen with Wanda to help make you your favorite food and set up a nice warm bath for you. She tells you she's proud of you and how strong you are and then gives you space if you want it or does a fun activity with you if you want to hangout.

Dreams: (does she dream about a future with her s/o/ what are those dreams)

She always dreamed about living her life outside of the red room when she was in it and when she escaped, she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life alone which she was okay with until she met you. Now, when she thinks about her future, you're always in it. Whether that's with a few adopted children on a nice property somewhere, or still living your life you currently have- adding a few pets obviously- she's happy to just have you.

Equal: (is she more dominant or soft in the relationship)

She's definitely more dominant as that's just a personality trait of hers but she also isn't as afraid as she used to be to show her soft side. She's not afraid to call you out when somethings wrong but she also knows that sometimes people just need space which she's happy to give you.

Fight: (how would a typical fight go/ how easily would she forgive her s/o?)

I definitely see Natasha being more of a petty type, but in the end she knows that to help keep your relationship stable you have to talk things out. She's always nervous to do it, but she loves you more than anything. Fights don't happen too often but when they do she tries her best not to let her anger boil over. Not a lot of things you do could ever make her mad, but as we all know, she definitely has a tendency to resort to anger when something goes wrong. She'd never lay a hand on you, but she does tend to yell when arguments break out.

Gratitude: (is she grateful for all her s/o does/has done for her?)

100%. She's so grateful she found someone like you and even though she doesn't say that very often, she proves it with acts of kindness. She believes that anyone can say they are grateful for something, but proving that you are is worth so much more. Whether it's taking you out to a fancy dinner or a fun date, setting up a movie night or taking care of a mission report so you can relax, she always shows you that she's grateful for all you do for her.

Honest: (how honest is she to her s/o?)

Keeping secrets from you is something that she has due to her line of work but other than that, she is mostly honest with you. Sometimes she lies about her emotions, but in the end she always ends up telling you how she's feeling. If you ask her about something, she usually finds no reason to lie. She trusts you with her life so why wouldn't she trust you with her secrets?

Inspiration: (did her s/o inspire her to become a better person?)

Definitely. It's not like she was a bad person at first, but she definitely had a temper and tended to fight a lot. She didn't deal with her emotions well after years of not being able to, and you helped change that. You inspired her to be a better person and lover so that she could be what you deserve.

Jealousy: (does she get jealous? if so, how jealous?)

Natasha knows that you love her and wouldn't leave her for someone else unless she gave you a reason to but a lot of the time, it's just about the way people act towards you or look at you. Some person looking at you with lust filled eyes? Make a move on you and won't take no for an answer? They definitely earn a punch to the face from your girlfriend. After that, she'll ask you if you're okay and take you home to spend the rest of the night proving that your hers.

Kiss: (does she kiss her s/o often? where does she kiss you?)

Natasha loves kissing you, but she loves the way you scrunch up your face when she kisses your nose. You'll often joke when she does it that she “missed your lips” and she simply laughs and kisses you on the lips. Her kisses are usually soft and passionate, but trust that when her dominant side comes out, you're going to be pushed up against a wall and making out with her for hours.

Little ones: (how is she around kids?)

Even with her cold personality, children hold a special place in her heart as she will never be able to biologically have any of her own. She wants to eventually start a family with you, but for now she's fine with babysitting her teammates' kids sometimes or visiting the children's hospital in her superhero suit. When they scream and cry, she has to admit that she's not too great with dealing with that but she eventually just takes a deep breath and calms herself in order to help calm them. If that doesn't work, she calls in Wanda.

Marriage: (does she want to get married?)

Honestly, she doesn't care all that much. Obviously, marrying you would be nice but it's not necessary. She simply loves being with you and if you never get married, that's fine. If you do, great. She thinks about what it would be like often, but she knows that in the end you guys would still be as happy as you are now. The only thing that would change would be you have a piece of paper to hang on the wall that basically says, “I love this person so fucking much” and most of her friends already know she does. 

Nicknames: (what nicknames does she call her s/o? Does she have any for them?)

She definitely likes more personal nicknames that all though it didn't take a lot of time to come up with them, it's something that shows how much you know each other. She uses regular nicknames too. Babe, darling, dear or any term of endearment in Russian are some of her favorites to use. She loves how flustered you get when she speaks in Russian, which is why she does it so often.

On Cloud Nine: (what's she like in love? is it obvious?) 

I wouldn't exactly say it's obvious but the people that know Natasha personally can definitely tell when her moods are changing. She's nicer, calmer, and a whole lot more happy. It's the little things like the way she looks at you, the way she handles different problems that involve you, or the way she protects you.

PDA: (is she okay with showing off her relationship in public?) 

It's not that she doesn't like to, it's just that she knows how uncomfortable it must be for others. She's not scared of what others would think, as she can protect herself and you easily, so she doesn't mind kissing you in public or hugging you. Holding hands is definitely her thing, so that she doesn't lose you in big crowds and so she can easily remind you that she's there for you when she notices you getting overwhelmed.

Quirk: (a trait of hers that makes her a great partner)

She is a great listener and notices the little things. She knows when you need her to be there or when you need space, she can literally read your emotions from the way your eyes look. She notices small things about you that nobody else does, and you often find a gift left for you on the counter if she hears you talking about wanting it in a conversation that you didn't think she was paying attention to.

Romance: (is she a romantic or does she not know how?)

She often says she's not romantic, but the date nights she plans prove otherwise. She doesn't exactly know how to show romance after years of not doing it, but she loves randomly saying something that causes you to grin and blush. Little compliments throughout the day, telling you (quite poetically might I add) how much she loves you, or cuddling you in the warmth of your home.

Security: (are they protective over you? if so, how protective?)

She's very protective and even though she knows you can handle yourself, she's always watching over you on missions or really just in daily life. Not in a possessive way, just making sure that her partner stays safe. She trusts you to stay safe, but who doesn't need extra protection in case something goes wrong?

Thrill: (does she like trying out new things in the relationship or does she like a routine?)

She loves a routine, but she knows better than anyone that following the same one everyday can make you go insane. With that knowledge, she makes sure to plan fun date nights every once in a while, or just randomly go out and have fun. Even with her love of routines, she also loves being spontaneous in life and in her relationship. Other then that, she's fine with the daily life that you guys have. Work dury the day, sometimes she has missions in the evenings or at night, and spend whatever free time she has having a meal with you or cuddling.

Ugly: (what are some of her bad traits? does she know that she has them?)

She understands that she has some bad traits and tries her best to fix them if they're becoming a problem. A few of them are:

doesn't show emotions and instead bottles them up (which then causes outbursts)

stresses about little things that go wrong when planning something

always puts other before herself which sometimes leads to putting herself in danger

She knows that you struggle to understand her sometimes and she tries her best to help you.

Value: (on what level of priority is her relationship? does it come before other relationships in her life?)

She knows how much putting your relationship as one of her top priorities, and she does her best to do that. She's not one to blow you off the hang out with other people, but she knows that if she truly has to for something like a mission, she has a very understanding partner. She doesn't take advantage of that though, and she always makes sure to set aside time to spend with you if she's been very busy for a while.

Wild Card (A random fluffy headcanon that you have about the relationship?)

I think that Natashas favorite season would be winter because she loves the cold. 

Since it snows in New York, she will spend any free minute forcing you to come outside with her to play in it. 

Snowball fights are definitely her thing. 

She'll pull the rest of the avengers into it too, and her competitive side would quickly come out. 

Loves hot chocolate and would have it for every single meal if you let her. 

100% gets sick from days of not putting on a jacket while she goes outside like you told her to. 

“I told you so, Nat. Now come eat your soup.” 

Forces you to cuddle with her and gets you sick as well.

XOXO (Does she like to kiss, hug, cuddle you? If so, how often does she do it?)

I feel like Natasha is a big physical touch person in a relationship but just doesn't like to show it around other people. She loves kissing you, will pull you into a hug randomly, or cuddle with you while you're doing simple tasks. Doing a mission report? She's there to hug you. Taking a shower? She's there to wash your hair for you and hug you. Cooking? She wraps her arms around you from behind and buries her face in your neck.

Yucks: (some things she doesn't like)

Natasha hates pickles. I don't know why but I just feel like she'd be the type to get a burger and pass her pickles onto one of her teammates plates. And pineapples, I think she'd hate pineapple flavored things or just the fruit itself because it makes her mouth “feel icky”. It's also well known that she hates working with people as a team especially on missions and even though she loves her teammates, she prefers to go on solo missions.

So for Z I couldn't pick between these 2 so I decided to do both lol:

Zeal: (would she go to great lengths for you/ or relationship? if so, how far)

Literally yall are the "Don't Blame Me” couple. She would do anything for you. You know how heros would give their love in order to save the world? Not her. She would rather die than let you die. It may seem dramatic, but you're her everything the same way she's yours. She would go so fucking far to protect you and what you guys have. There is very little she wouldn't do for you. Murder is not out of the picture.

Zzz: (how is she when she sleeps? Does she sleep walk? Sleep talk? nightmares?)

After her past in the red room, she definitely has nightmares that end with you guys watching TV in the living room as you try and help her sleep again. She also talks in her sleep. You've stayed up sometimes to listen to her say full sentences. It scared you at first because you would wake up to her seemingly talking to you but she would still be asleep. Other than that, she's a calm sleeper but also wakes up easily sometimes as she is always on high alert