#guess I’ll wait another five years to find that out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smileysuh · 1 year ago

Text

ghostie

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend. You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turns into ten, turns into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 15k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this might just be the best John fic I've ever written, or maybe I just need therapy

Sunday

You pause your movie when your phone rings and you look down at the screen. The number is unknown, and you briefly consider not even answering it. However, you’ve had two job interviews in the past week, and you don’t want to miss any opportunities, so with a sigh, you bring your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny, how’s your night going?”

Definitely not a prospective employer. Your sorority gave you the name Tiny during first year, something to do with the ‘tiny’ shots you always want to take, and only those within the Greek system use it on you. On top of the Greek-specific term of endearment, the man on the other end of the line is using a voice modulator of some sort, and it makes it impossible for you to identify him.

Your curiosity is sparked.

“Who is this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You sigh, leaning back against your bed and setting your laptop to the side. “I get that Scream is having a comeback, but this whole ‘calling a girl and being mysterious’ thing won’t get you laid anytime soon.”

“Are you sure about that?” You can hear a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.

“If you’re not going to tell me who you are, I’ll hang up.”

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” There’s a pause then, “Let’s just say, a mutual friend gave me your number. They thought we’d hit it off.”

“Whoever this ungendered mutual friend is, I doubt they expected you to call me with a voice modulator and act out a Ghost Face fantasy. I get that Halloween is a week away, but come on… you can’t be serious about this.”

“I am serious. Come on Tiny, live a little.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mister Ghost Face.”

“I’ve got good reason to be, trust me on that.”

You let out a deep sigh, going through your roster of men who might think this sort of thing would be funny. “Yunho? Is this you getting high again?”

“Wrong frat, but good guess. I didn’t know Alpha Tappa Zeta’s star quarterback was a stoner, thanks for the info, Tiny.”

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself. You hadn’t meant to throw Yunho under the bus like that.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone about his… habits. That would be hypocritical of me.”

You search your mind for the stoners you know. Ones who would have the balls to call you like this.

“Do you want to take another guess? I’ll give you three chances. You have two more.”

Aside from ATZ, you spend a lot of time with Sigma Veta Tau. Soonyoung is a well-known blunt roller in the fraternity system, but he wouldn’t do a charade like this. He’s very open about hitting on you any time you’re at one of his parties.

“Jeonghan?” you ask.

“Last guess, Tiny.”

He doesn’t confirm or deny if you’ve gotten the frat right, but you can’t really see any other SVT members who would fit this mysterious man’s profile.

Your mind wanders to Nu Chi Theta. They’ve got quite a few weed lovers there, and you’ve been invited into many closed-room smoke sessions with the dirty NCT boys.

There’s Yuta, and he’d definitely have the gall to entertain a flirtation like this. However, you don’t know of any mutual friends who would ever set you up with him. With another sigh of irritation, you throw out the last name on your shortlist of stoner acquaintances.

“Hyuck? Please tell me this isn’t you.”

“Close but no cigar.”

“I don’t like this game.”

“You’re not supposed to like it, but it is entertaining, don’t you think?”

“What’s your angle with all of this?” you question. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, then what’s the point of calling?”

The line is silent for a few moments. “I guess… I just wanted to talk to you a little, is that so bad?”

Your heart softens, if only momentarily. “Then grow some balls and ask me out like a real man.”

“Where would be the fun in that?” The mystery man lets out a short chuckle, and your irritation only grows.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really annoying?”

“A few times actually.”

“Well, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I haven’t even met you.”

“Yes, you have.”

“God, I’m tired of this. Goodnight.”

You don’t even wait for an answer, you simply hang up.

Despite trying to get back to your movie, you can’t get the mystery man out of your head. When you go to bed you can’t even sleep, your mind completely full of all the possibilities of who your caller could have been.

You’ll have to do some digging tomorrow. You can’t not figure out who this guy is- and you know just the fratboy to give you all the details you could need.

Monday

Mark Lee is always fifteen minutes early, even when it comes to an 8am class. You feel like shit after tossing and turning all night, so when you slide into the seat next to him in the back of the class, he gives you a once over and his lips part in shock.

“Are you okay?”

“No, Mark, I’m not okay,” you snap, regretting it a moment later- after all, Mark’s not the one doing this to you. “Someone called me from an unknown number last night. A frat guy, I’m not sure who. He was using this voice modulator-”

“That sounds hella sketchy.”

“Super sketchy,” you agree.

“I know it’s October and everything, but that’s a weird way to hit on a girl.”

“That’s what I said!” Mark always understands you. “He said a mutual friend gave him my number, thought we’d be cute together or something- whoever it was, I need to strangle them.”

“Is this friend a girl or a guy?”

“Mystery man wouldn’t tell me,” you groan.

“So… this dude could be literally anyone.”

“Not Yunho from Alpha Tappa Zeta, Jeonghan from Sigma Veta Tau, and not your roommate Hyuck. The guy gave me three guesses,” you explain, “the hint is that he’s a stoner.”

“Lots of frat guys are stoners.”

“Exactly,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat.

“What are you going to do if he calls you again?” Mark asks. “This kind of feels like stalker behavior.”

“It does,” you admit. “But at the same time, he calls me Tiny, and he says we’ve met before- when I asked what he even got out of the phonecall he said he just wanted to ‘talk to me a little,’ which, I don’t know, for some reason I feel like he’s not a stalker.”

Mark gives you a look that says ‘You’re crazy,’ and after listening to everything that just spewed out of your own mouth, maybe you kind of agree with him.

“So if he calls you again…” Mark reasks his earlier question, one you’d chosen to ignore.

But you can’t ignore it now, and you let out a deep breath.

“If he calls again… We’ll see what happens.”

“Tiny-”

“Mark,” you counter, knowing he’s about to chastise you. But you don’t want to hear it. If even he doesn’t have any idea of who your mystery caller could be, you simply can’t give up. If you never find out who this ‘Ghost Face’ dude is, you’ll feel unsolved for the rest of your life and you know it.

“Look, I’ll ask around a little,” Mark concedes.

You let out a squeal of delight, throwing your arms around your closet fratboy friend. He lets out a chuckle, gently squeezing you back.

Mark’s a good guy.

If only you were into good guys and not sleazy stoners calling you while getting a hard-on for being Ghost Face.

Monday pt 2

It’s nine o'clock and you’re starting to get tired while you study. You’re in need of a distraction, so when your phone rings with an unknown number, your heart practically jumps into your throat.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny.”

“Wow, Mister Ghost Face,” you laugh, twirling in your spinny chair, “two nights in a row. You must really like me, huh?”

The laugh he lets out sounds genuine, even though his voice is obscured still. For some reason, the noise makes you grin, and you can’t believe you’re actually kind of having fun with this.

“I do like you,” the mystery man confirms. “Tell me about your day.”

“Tell you about my day?” You’re in shock.

“Uh huh.”

“No teasing or nothing? No three guesses about your identity?”

“I’ll tell you what,” he lets out a sigh, “like you said, Halloween is in a week. If you keep letting me call you until then, I’ll reveal myself when you come to the party.”

“The party?” you repeat. “You make it sound like there’s only one frat party on Halloween.”

“Only one worth going to.”

“Is that so?” He’s so cocky- why does that turn you on?

“Yup. In fact, I know you agree with me on this, because the past two Halloweens, you’ve come to my frat.”

Your body freezes. He’s just given you a massive hint-

“So you’re an NCT boy?”

“Wouldn’t call myself a boy, and neither would you if you saw what's in my pants.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, not sure how to even respond to the suggestive comment he’s just made.

The man on the other end of the line lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, I’m two blunts deep. I should watch what I say to you, that's why I asked about your day.”

“You don’t have to- watch what you say, I mean.”

“Yeah?” You can almost picture him leaning back in a chair, a large half-chub growing in his pants- “Are you getting horny from a mystery man on your phone? Dirty girl.”

“Dirty guy,” you counter, “trying to entice me by saying your dick is big.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I’m intrigued,” you admit, “but not only because of your cock.”

“It’s a nice cock.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you about my day,” you sidestep. “Had an early class with Mark Lee, you must know Mark.”

“Of course.”

“Well, he has no clue who you could be.”

“You talked about me.”

You can hear him smiling.

“I bet you couldn’t even sleep last night. Too busy trying to figure out who I am.”

Okay, maybe he is a bit of a stalker. Or maybe he just knows you well… who the fuck is this guy?

“Stop being so cocky,” you insist.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Mark told me you’re probably a stalker, said I should maybe block your number.”

“I don’t have a number, if I did, that would be too easy for you. I’m an unknown caller… can you even block unknown callers?”

“I guess we’ll find out when I block you.”

“Won’t happen though. What did you do after your class with Mark?”

“Are you really that interested in my day?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”

He’s a cocky softy, who would have imagined.

You wonder what you ever did to make this guy so sweet on you- you’ve dated men who don’t even care to ask you how your day went, and this guy is out here doing it practically for free.

“Classes were okay, my sorority had a little fundraiser at lunch, we baked cupcakes.”

“They were good cupcakes.”

“Wait…” your stomach churns a little. “You stopped by?”

“I’m a sucker for cupcakes, and how cute your butt looks in blue jeans.”

You search your memory, counting how many NCT boys came through around lunch. You realize that there were far too many for it to do any good in deciphering which one is the man you’re currently talking to.

“Did we talk?”

“You talked to everyone who bought something. I’m not special.”

Except… he kind of is special, in a way you can’t truly explain… not yet anyways.

“Maybe you are a stalker,” you decide.

“I can promise you I’m not, but I bet you’d be kind of into it if I was.”

This guy makes you feel such conflicting emotions, you’re not sure how to even handle him.

“Look, I was studying when you called-”

“Right, you should get back to that.”

“I should.”

“Sleep tight, Tiny. It’s been nice talking to you.”

Part of you wants to return the sentiment, it feels second nature, but the words stop on your tongue. In all fairness, it hasn’t been particularly nice talking to the mystery Ghost Face guy.

Instead of saying anything else, you simply hit him with a “Bye,” and you hang up the phone.

However, you don’t get back to studying, you immediately call Mark.

He sounds groggy as he says “Hello?”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“I just got a call from that guy again. He’s definitely one of your frat brothers, and he’s high right now.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Mark sighs. “We sort of uh… all got high at the fire after dinner.”

“Mark Lee!” you screech.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mark groans. “I’ll uh… ask around some more. We’ll figure out who this dude is.”

“And if we don’t… he said he’d tell me who he is at your frat Halloween bash at the end of the week.”

It’s Monday now, and the party is on Saturday. That means you’ll only have to wait a few days… you can hold out for a few days… can’t you?

Tuesday

You read over the email a third time, but it doesn’t make anything better. The words ‘We regret to inform you that you have not been chosen for the position’ make your eyes begin to well with tears.

Quickly exiting your phone, you grab your things. You refuse to cry in the middle of the library-

The bathroom will have to do the trick, and you hurry to get there, holding back the choked sob that longs to slip out of you.

You’d thought for sure this interview would land you a job on campus. The interview had gone well, or so you’d thought.

You don’t even know why you’re getting so upset about this.

There’s just something so devastating about rejection.

You get to the bathroom quickly, shutting yourself into a stall before you allow the tears to fall again. You cradle your face in your hands, allowing the sadness to overwhelm you.

It’s important to have a good cry every now and again, and you definitely need this.

Your cries, however, are interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. Wiping at your face, you reach for the device, lifting it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Are you okay?”

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ghost-” you groan, closing your eyes at the familiar voice-modulated sound.

“You do have time,” he insists. “Tell me what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just saw you running through the library. Looked like you were crying.”

“I wasn’t crying!” you nearly yell.

“Liar. Come on, Tiny, let Ghostie make you feel better.”

The affectionate-sounding nickname prompts you to wipe your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a stalker?”

“I was in the library, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Was?”

“I’m gone now, can’t have you figuring out who I am before Halloween.”

“Would it really be so bad if I did?” you question. “It would make me feel better.”

“Look at you, using your bad experience to try to swindle me,” you hear him laugh, and there are more sounds now, as if he’s walking across campus. “Seriously, Tiny, tell me what’s going on.”

“Do you always walk around campus with a voice modulator?”

“It’s an app on my phone babe, now answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask a question, you commanded me to tell you what happened, and I’m not taking commands right now.”

He sighs. “Will you please tell me what’s making you cry?”

Your lower lip trembles. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing that hurts you is stupid.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“It looked like you needed a friend.”

“You’re not my friend. You’re some guy who got my number and gets hard by pretending to be Ghost Face from Scream.”

“I could be your friend. Could be more than your friend. And I’m not hard right now. Not after seeing you cry.”

You take a breath. “I applied for a job and I uh… they didn’t hire me.”

“Then they’re stupid.”

“Maybe I’m stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m a girl who’s spent three days talking to a guy who keeps his identity a secret, and for some crazy reason, you’re actually making me feel better. That definitely makes me stupid.”

“No, it makes you soft. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Yeah?” you sniffle. “What else? And don’t say my ass in blue jeans.”

The man chuckles. “You’re soft, and kind. But you’re a fighter too. You’ve got a spark. Don’t even get me started on how smart you are-”

“And how would you know how smart I am?”

“For starters, you’re in the top-scoring sorority on campus,” he points out. “Whenever you come to trivia night, you wipe the floor with all of us. Mark talks constantly about how much you help him with his classes, which brings me to my next point, you care about charity. That’s a great sign of your character.”

“You do know a lot about me, don’t you, Ghostie?” His words have stopped your tears, and you cradle your phone close to your ear.

“Still not a stalker though.”

Now he even has you laughing. “Jury’s still out on that one.”

“You sound better already,” he muses. “Mark has a free block right now, I’m sure if you call him he’d take you for ice cream or something to distract you.”

“That’s a good idea,” you admit.

“I’m full of good ideas.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Tiny.”

Tuesday pt 2

“This guy sounds like a full-on stalker,” Mark says for the sixth time as you grab ice cream and sit inside while a storm passes, rain splattering the windows.

“I mean, if he knew your schedule, I’m guessing he’s someone close to you.”

“He’s stalking us both, I don’t like it.”

“But he’s nice.”

“He’s stalking you, Tiny!”

“He’s not!” you insist. “A lot of people were at the library today… honestly, I think… I think Ghostie is kind of sweet.”

“Ghostie?!” Mark stares at you in shock. “You’re calling him Ghostie now?”

“It’s cute, right?”

“It’s crazy is what it is!” Mark leans back in his seat, frowning. “This is giving me the creeps.”

“Well, it’s spooky season.”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t think any of my frat brothers would pull crazy shit like this. They’re mostly pretty chill dudes.”

“So you think he’s lying about being in NCT?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.

“I think he’s definitely lying,” Mark confirms.

“Well, agree to disagree.”

Mark studies you for a moment. “Look, the only guy who’s a freak like this is Yuta and he swore up and down to me yesterday that he’s not calling you with a fucking voice modulator.”

“I don’t think this is Yuta.”

“Because you’re a Ghostie expert now, huh?” He scoffs loudly.

“Yuta’s not really a stoner,” you point out. “And besides, I can’t explain why I know it’s not him, I just have a feeling.”

“Yeah, is that feeling in your pussy by any chance?”

“Mark Lee!” you gasp, scandalized by his choice of words.

“Be real with me!” he insists. “You wouldn’t be entertaining this if it wasn’t… I don’t know, turning you on? Are you turned on by stalkers? Is this why you like Halloween so much?”

“Okay, maybe I am turned on, but that doesn’t make me a bad person.”

“It just makes you crazy,” Mark groans, running a hand through his hair. “I swear to God, when the dude reveals himself at the frat party, it better be one of my frat brothers and not a serial killer. And also, I’m going to fight him.”

“Something tells me he’d beat you,” you giggle.

“Now you’re trying to make me feel bad.”

“Says the guy who just called me crazy.” You grin, knowing that you’ve won.

“This whole thing is crazy.”

He has a point about that.

Wednesday

You’ve been waiting all day for a call from Ghostie, and it comes right before you’re about to head to bed. You practically launch yourself at your phone, putting it on speaker and saying “Hello?” as if you don’t know who’s on the other end of the line.

“Hey you, feeling better today?”

“You tell me, mister stalker.”

“I haven’t actually seen you today, it was a bit of a shame if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah?” God, this man has way too much power over you. “And why’s that, Ghostie?”

“Because I’ve been looking at your Instagram, but you’re cuter in person.”

“Do you follow me?”

“We’re mutuals.”

You’re mutuals with pretty much the entire NCT frat, it would have been more helpful if he’d said he’s not a follower, although, now that you think of it, that had always been unlikely.

“Still trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you, Tiny?”

“Of course.”

“Remember when I was listing your good qualities? Patience wasn’t one of them.”

“That’s so rude of you,” you say, although, you’re grinning at your phone.

“Here, I’ll make it better. I have an idea for you.”

“Let’s hear it then.” You get comfortable on your bed, wondering what he’s about to say.

“If you want a job, there’s this bar on campus, Skeets. Have you heard of it?”

“Who hasn’t heard of Skeets?” You roll your eyes.

“They let just about anyone work there. A few of the NCT guys are bartenders, I’m sure they’d put a good word in for you with the hiring manager, he’s also a member of the frat.”

You haven’t been to Skeets in ages, and you try to remember who you know amongst the staff. “Wait, you’re right- doesn’t Hyuck work there?”

“He does… This is the second time you’ve mentioned him, got something of a crush, Tiny?”

“Would that make you jealous?” you tease.

“I’m not the jealous type,” he states. “But yeah… it would.”

“Don’t get your Ghost Face mask in a knot, I don’t have a crush on Hyuck. In fact, if you turn out to be Hyuck and I find out you lied to me about your identity, I’m going to be really mad.”

“I’m not Hyuck.”

“Good.” You consider his proposition for a moment. “Do you really think they’d hire me?”

“It doesn’t hurt to try.”

“You know, on Sunday, if someone had told me you’d be helping me find a job not three days later, I would have said they were crazy.”

“Guess I like to keep you on your toes.”

“I think you just have a major soft spot for me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I can’t. I promised not to lie to you.”

God, he makes you so giddy it’s insane.

“Are you going to come stalk me at Skeets if they give me a job?”

“Goodnight, Tiny.” He’s avoiding the question, and you can hear him grinning through the phone.

“Night, Ghostie.”

It’s the first time he’s the one to hang up on you, and it leaves you wanting more.

Thursday

Ghostie had assured you that Skeets hires just about anyone, but that doesn’t help the anxiety building inside of you as you prepare to take your resume into the bar.

You even do a Wonderwoman pose outside while waiting for Skeets to open, breathing deeply to psych yourself up while you go over possible interview questions just in case the hiring manager wants a chit-chat today.

“I love working in a team environment,” you say quietly to yourself, closing your eyes and running through responses. “The most important thing is that the guests feel welcome.”

The sound of something dragging across the cement ground has you practically jumping, lids flashing open as your head whips toward the noise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your mantra,” the tall fratboy laughs, setting up the wooden sign with the daily drink menu just in front of the door to the bar.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing thickly.

The man in front of you is Johnny Suh. He’s two years older than you, and you know him through Mark. When guys join a frat, they’re assigned a ‘Big,’ an elder frat brother to guide them through the process. Johnny is Mark’s big, and he’s always been nice to you whenever you’ve crossed paths.

You would call Johnny an acquaintance, not a friend, but he’s still a friendlier face than you may have expected to see upon your first moments interacting with Skeets staff.

“You coming inside, Tiny?” Johnny asks.

“Yeah, sorry John, one sec, I just need another deep breath.” You wave your hand at him, turning your back and gulping down air while you hold your bag tight to your front, the resume within practically burning a hole in the leather.

The hot fratboy heads back inside and you finish calming yourself down.

You can do this. You can get this job.

As you enter the bar that’s just open, you realize there are only a few staff members kicking around so far. Kim Jungwoo is rearranging chairs, and Lee Donghyuck is sitting on a table looking at his phone. Johnny Suh is behind the bar, and you decide you should probably talk to him, so you try to act confident as you walk through the small establishment.

Johnny’s brown eyes raise as you approach, and he offers you a small smile. “Tough day?”

“What?” You blink at him, settling against the bartop.

“You looked kind of off outside, and most people don’t come in to day-drink this early.”

“Oh, uh… I’m not here to day-drink.” You let out a tiny laugh. “Actually, I came to see if you guys were looking to hire new staff members, I brought my resume.”

You reach into your bag to pull out the papers, and you hand them over to Johnny.

His eyes scan the first sheet. “Wow, a cover letter, I’ve actually never seen one of these.”

People don’t apply with cover letters? The idea is kind of shocking to you.

Johnny hardly looks at your resume, setting it down in front of him to address you instead. “What makes you want to work at Skeets?”

“In all honesty, I need a job. I’m dependable, and I’ve got a decent schedule to work in the food service industry. I like working as part of a team, and I’m already friends with a lot of the staff here, so I thought it might be a good fit.”

Johnny nods, assessing you. “Have you bartended before?”

“I’ve got my qualifications to serve alcohol, but I’ve mostly had waitressing jobs,” you admit.

“At Skeets, we all do a bit of everything. Would you be open to learning how to mix drinks?”

“I’d be very open to it,” you nod.

“Then let’s give it a shot,” Johnny smiles warmly at you. “You’ve got good timing, we actually just had to let go of someone for excessive drinking on the job. I was going to put a wanted ad up today, but looks like that won’t be necessary.”

“Are you…” you swallow thickly, “are you serious? I’m hired?”

“Yeah, why not?”

You can’t help the squeal of delight that rushes through you, and a massive grin makes its way onto your face. You even jump a little, and Johnny seems to enjoy your excitement, smiling from ear to ear while you celebrate.

“When can you start?” he asks next.

“I can start tomorrow! I mean, if you need me that soon.”

“Tomorrow is a big night here at Skeets, the Friday before Halloween. We could use the hands, but it will be a busy one, do you think you can handle that?”

You’re quick to nod. “Of course. But I uh… I should let you know, I can’t work Halloween, I promised a friend I’d meet them at your frat for the party.”

“Don’t worry about Saturday,” Johnny assures you. “Sigma Veta Tau has their frat party tonight, so it’s all us NCT guys working, and tomorrow we’ll switch. As much as Seungcheol is a good comanager, I don’t trust him to teach you how to mix drinks on Halloween.”

“So… you’re going to be the main person training me then?” you ask.

“If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself,” he confirms.

You can’t help but beam up at the tall frat boy, overjoyed at this turn of events. As cute as Johnny is though, part of you is excited to tell Ghostie about this when he inevitably calls you tonight.

Your life is definitely a little crazy.

“So, how about you come in tomorrow at seven?” Johnny suggests. “The bar will be open past midnight, but I figure I can show you a few things before it gets busy around ten, and then I can let you go early.”

“I’ll be here at seven.”

“And when it comes to what you’re wearing, we’ll give you a Skeets t-shirt,” he pulls at the black fabric stretched tight across his broad chest. “Other than that, you can wear any color of jeans and some sneakers.”

“Perfect.”

“You’ll be paid for the training shift, I’ll tip you out in cash, and if it goes well, we’ll get your banking details at your next shift after that,” Johnny explains. “I’ve got your number here on your resume, so I’ll be in contact with you on Sunday, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a dream.” You literally can’t stop smiling.

“Tiny’s going to learn to mix,” Johnny says fondly, “Mark’s going to love this.”

You already feel close to Mark’s big, and the opportunity to work with him is a good one. Johnny is one of the more well-known nice guys at the frat. Sure, he’s got a little bit of a dangerous edge to him, just based on his massive stature alone, but he’s generally a big softy bear.

“Thanks again for this, Johnny,” you beam. “I won’t let you down.”

Thursday pt 2

“Hyuck said our favorite Tiny sorority princess got herself a job today.”

“Hello to you too, Ghostie.”

“I wanted to cut to the chase and congratulate you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten the job without you,” you admit. “So… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” your mystery man says, and you can hear that classic grin of his. “I’m sure you got it on your own merit.”

“Apparently no one’s ever brought a cover letter with their resume before.”

“They must have been impressed.”

“Hired me on the spot.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your insides flutter. You like the way it sounds when he calls you his girl. “How about your day, Ghostie? Stalk any new girls?”

He laughs. “Only one girl worth stalking, which, I don’t do, by the way.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“My day was long,” he says finally.

“Yeah, it’s nearly midnight, I was thinking about going to sleep but…”

“But you wanted me to call,” Ghostie finishes your sentence for you.

“When you say it like that it sounds kind of depressing.”

“It’s not depressing, Tiny, it’s cute.”

“Cute?”

“I like that you’re getting used to me.”

“You know… if you decided not to show up to the Halloween party- if you never called again, I think… I’d wonder who you are the rest of my life.” It’s a moment of vulnerability, and your heart races in your chest while you wait for his response.

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Tiny,” Ghostie promises. “I’ll find you on Saturday, and not in a stalker way.”

“What costume are you going to be wearing?”

“If I tell you, you’ll just show up and scour the whole place looking for me.”

“You know me too well, don’t you, Ghostie?”

“What are you going to wear, pretty girl?”

You literally kick your feet at the term of endearment, body buzzing. It takes a moment to collect yourself. “Honestly? I’ve got a Ghost Face mask hanging around somewhere.”

“And here I was being told I’m the one who gets hard pretending to be Ghost Face.”

“Well… even though I don’t know you, not really, I think I got that one pretty accurate, didn’t I?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I thought you said you were big,” you tease.

“Okay, maybe a lot.”

You bite at your lip. After the great day you’ve had, it’s difficult not to feel flirty. “Are you hard right now, big guy?”

He groans, and even under the voice modulator, something tells you the sounds he makes are sexy as fuck. You can feel your panties getting wet. It’s dirty, but in the best possible way.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grin.

“You’re being bad, Tiny.”

“Says the guy who’s literally hard right now.”

The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“What if… when we meet, you’re not interested in me?”

Well, this has just taken a turn. How did you go from horny thoughts to insecurity?

It’s a valid question though, one you should have asked yourself by now, but for some reason you haven’t. You think about it for a few seconds.

“I feel like… I know it’s been less than a week of talking but, you’re not like any other guy I’ve ever met. And not just because you’re calling with a voice modulator.” You let out a laugh. “You ask how my day is, and you care to hear my answer. You even helped me get a job, which is crazy to think about. For some weird reason, I think when I meet you, the emotional connection is already kind of there, so no matter what you look like, you’ll be more attractive to me.”

“You really think so?”

“I mean, NCT is known for having hot guys, so I’m not sure who you could be that would turn me off. There are only a few NCT guys I’d say a hard no to at the moment.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Well, Doyoung and I have never gotten along, but I know you’re not him because he doesn’t touch weed. I dated Jeno for about a week, and I know enough about him to know I don’t want to do anything with him ever again, and also, that you’re not Jeno because he’d never ask me how my day was going-”

“What an asshole.”

You laugh. “All things considered, Ghostie, I think you’ll do just fine.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Is this why you’ve been doing the whole voice modulator thing? You’re worried I won’t be interested in you?”

“It’s one of the reasons,” Ghostie admits. “I also worried that if I did hit on you, you might think I was only trying to get you into my bed, which, yeah, it would be nice, but… as perfect as your body is, it’s not the most interesting thing about you.”

What a scrumptious take; A guy calling you up and using anonymity to prove to you that this connection isn’t only about sex.

Your heart softens.

“Ghostie, you might be one of the sweetest guys I know,” you admit.

“More than your best friend Mark Lee?”

You laugh. “Maybe not, Mark would never do something like this. You’re a bit of a paradox that way, aren’t you?”

“If you say so, Tiny. As much as I’ve liked this talk, I think I should let you sleep. Halloween is two days away and I’m sure we’ve both got a lot to do before then.”

“What if I don’t want you to go just yet?”

“Then I’d remind you that patience is a virtue.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Good thing we have an emotional connection so you’ll forgive me for it. Night, Tiny.”

“Night, Ghostie.”

Friday

Your first shift consists of shadowing Johnny. He’s a fabulous teacher. He’s calm, patient, and very encouraging. The first few hours are a breeze, but the bar gets increasingly packed as the night goes on.

It’s a little overwhelming, but Johnny helps keep you steady. He gives you the easy drink orders, things like beer and simple cocktails. While you’re filling a cup from the beer tap, he’s busy mixing five to ten different things into one glass for items on the Halloween special menu.

There’s something sexy about a diligent worker, and his beefy arms are all bulgy and hot in his tight Skeets shirt. You can tell that a lot of girls come up to the bar specifically to order from him. There are two other bartenders, but Johnny’s line is notably the longest.

You’ve had your own share of interested men pop over to say hi. There are very few frat boys here tonight, as there’s a party in full swing in the Greek village, so most of the guys coming up to grab a beer from you are people you don’t know.

Many of them are dressed up in costumes, and it’s interesting to try to guess some of the more obscure clothing choices.

Anytime you see a man in a ghost costume, your mind shifts to your mystery caller. You wonder if he’ll pop by tonight- but other than the men already working with you, no NCT boys walk through the front door.

No Ghostie.

There’s not one second of reprieve, but staff need breaks, and finally, just before midnight, Johnny pulls you both for a breather.

“Are you sure the others can keep up while we’re gone?” you ask, looking back at the swamped bartenders.

“They can manage,” he assures you, guiding you through the back staffroom to a door that leads to an alleyway behind the bar. “I know I’ve kept you on longer than I thought, but it’s just been so busy. How are you holding up?”

The cool night air is a drastic difference from the heat and humidity inside, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and enjoying it. “I’m doing alright,” you tell him. “You’re the one making the difficult drinks.”

“I’ve been mixing cocktails for years,” he brushes it off, reaching into his back pocket.

“Well, it shows.” You watch to see him pull out a rolled joint, and next comes a lighter.

“Want some?” he asks, lifting the joint to slot between his perfect lips.

“Are we allowed to smoke on the job?”

“Hyuck was prescribed Vyvanse last year, so he’s practically on coke all shift,” Johnny grins, lighting the end of the joint and taking a puff. “Besides,” he lets out a deep breath of smoke, “in the service industry, sometimes you need a little buffer.”

Skeets really is a chill place if the hiring manager smokes weed on breaks with subordinates.

“I didn’t realize you were a stoner,” you muse.

“Most of us frat boys are,” Johnny admits, pulling the joint from between his lips. It’s placed casually between two fingers, and his other hand ruffles through his pretty hair. “It’s a nice night.”

“It is,” you nod, looking up at the sky. Stars are twinkling in the dark

“I’m glad you joined the team, not sure we would have been doing so well without your extra set of hands.”

“I’m really grateful to have been given a trial shift,” you smile softly.

“Well, just so you know, it’s more than a trial shift. You’re hired.” He nudges your shoulder gently, and your grin only grows.

“Thank you.”

Johnny takes another drag from his joint. “Sure you don’t want a puff?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“I’m going to let you go home pretty soon after this,” Johnny tells you. “So it won’t affect your performance that much.”

You wonder if this is a test, but… at the same time, you don’t think Johnny’s the type of guy to test you this way.

You give in, accepting the joint and bringing it to your lips. It’s been a while since you smoked one of these, and your first tiny hit leaves you coughing, passing the joint back to Johnny while you try to catch your breath.

He grins while watching you, and you get the sneaking suspicion that Johnny thinks you’re cute.

“Thank you,” you say, coughing again.

“You’ve got good manners, don’t ya, Tiny?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that have formed in your eyes from the smoke.

“Who... who do you usually smoke with?” you ask.

“Why? You a cop?” Johnny jokes.

“No, it’s just uh… God, I could tell you the whole story but you wouldn’t even believe me if I did,” you find yourself laughing. “Just… I didn’t know you smoked, so, I’m wondering if maybe there are a few other guys in your circle who do too.”

Johnny looks you up and down. “Like I said earlier, Tiny, almost all us frat boys partake in mari-ju-ana.”

It’s clear he’s not going to give you any information that could help you figure out who your Ghostie is. You suppose you really will just have to be patient.

In less than twenty-four hours, you’ll be finding out who your mystery caller is, and the suspense is absolutely killing you.

Friday pt 2

It’s twelve thirty when you finally get home, and you’re very tired. But at the same time, you’re awake. You take your time getting ready for bed, ignoring the loud party sounds outside and around the frat village while you wait for a call from Ghostie.

As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call.

He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend.

You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you.

Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut.

You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

You try to self-soothe by assuring yourself you’ll meet him tomorrow, but it doesn’t really help.

Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, you fall into a blissless sleep.

Saturday

You’re groggy when you open your eyes, but you still go to check your phone. There’s a missed call notification from an unknown number at three am, and suddenly you’re wide awake, bolting up in bed.

“Hey, Tiny, it’s me.”

As if it could be anyone else.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you last night. I was pretty swamped with Halloween stuff. But if it makes you feel any better, you were definitely on my mind.”

Here you are kicking your feet again.

“Probably won’t get a chance to talk to you until the party, I really do hope you come… in uh… more ways than one.”

God, he makes you wet.

“I get it if you’re a little mad at me for not calling earlier, and I promise to make it up to you when I see you, if you’ll let me.”

He’s so oddly respectful.

“But I get it if you don’t want to do anything at the party. I’ve enjoyed talking with you this week, and if that’s all it’s going to be then I won’t hold it against you. Anyways, goodnight, see you soon.”

Saturday pt 2

You feel cute tonight. You’d taken your Ghost Face mask off almost as soon as entering the frat, but the little black dress you’re wearing is enough to capture a lot of attention.

Every frat boy that comes up to you makes your heart race, but none of them reveal themselves as your Ghostie.

You’re actually beginning to get a little frustrated, and after two hours of floating around hoping to find your mystery man, you head with Mark to his room for a break.

Mark’s roommate, Hyuck, is sitting on his bed, bong already out and resting on one thigh while scrolls through his phone. He looks up when you enter, smirking. “Finally, smoking buddies.”

“You texted me like two minutes ago to come up here,” Mark rolls his eyes. “Have some patience.”

“Not in my nature,” Hyuck insists, setting his phone down and reaching for his lighter. “First hit is mine.”

As if you expected anything less.

You watch him inhale the thick cloud of smoke, holding it for a moment in his lungs before he lets out a deep exhale. “Fucking hell, he groans, that was a good hit.”

Mark takes the bong and Hyuck falls flat against the bed, closing his eyes and smiling.

“So have you found your stalker yet, Tiny?” Hyuck asks.

Your gaze flashes to Mark. “You told him?”

“He was curious why I was asking for a stoner list,” Mark defends himself.

“Whoever the dude is, he’s got balls,” Hyuck says wistfully.

There’s a knock on the door, and Jaehyun pokes his head inside. “Heard we’re smoking?”

“Yeah, come in!” Hyuck waves his hand, still collapsed on his bed.

The door is pushed open wider, and you catch sight of Johnny standing behind Jaehyun. Your new hiring manager flashes you a wink as they enter, and the door is shut firmly behind them. Jaehyun goes to sit with Hyuck, but Johnny approaches you, taking the seat next to you on Mark’s bed.

“How’s your night going?” Johnny asks.

“She’s waiting for her stalker to come kidnap her and fuck her brains out,” Hyuck says loudly.

“Your stalker?” Johnny laughs.

“Some guy has been calling her all week,” Mark tries to explain.

“It sounds worse than it is,” you insist, feeling the need to defend Ghostie. “He’s only a little perverted.”

“And you’re into that sort of thing?” Jaehyun questions, cocking his head while Mark takes a puff from the bong and hands it over.

“Not usually,” you admit. “But… this guy is different.”

“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Mark groans, collapsing in his desk chair and running an anxious hand through his hair.

“That doesn’t matter,” you insist.

“Fucking girls, dude,” Hyuck laughs, sitting up and watching Jaehyun smoke from the bong. “You know what we need?”

“More weed?” Mark suggests.

“Yes, but also, shots.” Hyuck’s eyes shift to Johnny. “Not the shit from downstairs. The good stuff.”

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “You want something from my secret stash?”

“The tequila you brought back from Mexico,” Hyuck nods.

Jaehyun lets out a puff of smoke, holding the bong out for Johnny, who shakes his head.

“You’re not taking a hit?” Jaehyun asks, staring at Johnny in hazy shock.

“Not tonight,” Johnny responds. Then he turns to you. “If neither of us are taking a crack at the bong, how about you come help me grab the tequila?”

“Careful, John,” Hyuck teases, “She’s not interested in you, she only has eyes for this Ghostie dude.”

Mark shoves Hyuck’s knee and Johnny simply grins. “Come on Tiny, you don’t want to get secondhand high on a night like this.”

He’s right about that, and you stand with him, heading to the door. Johnny’s so tall and broad, and you try not to stare at his shoulders, but it’s extremely difficult not to appreciate his large form.

“What’s your costume?” you ask.

“Oh, this?” He pulls casually at his black tshirt. “I’m a serial killer, they look like everyone else.”

“Very original,” you laugh, falling into step with the tall fratboy as you make your way down the crowded hall.

“My room is on the top floor,” he tells you, heading to the stairwell and holding the door open for you. “I like your dress, by the way.”

“Thanks, it goes with this.” You hold up the Ghost Face mask to show it to him, and his grin widens while you climb the stairs.

“You’re gonna have to let me try that on.”

“I’m uh… I’m actually saving it for Ghostie to try,” you admit, feeling a little silly with how loyal you’re being to your mystery caller.

“He’s a lucky guy,” Johnny muses.

“Here’s to hoping it goes well,” you sigh.

Johnny doesn’t respond to your comment, and as you reach the top floor he guides you three rooms down, using a key to unlock the door before he holds it open for you. “After you, Tiny.”

The space is the same size as Hyuck and Mark’s, but it only has one bed. “I didn’t realize they had single rooms here,” you say, looking around.

“There’s only a few, and I’ve got seniority,” Johnny explains. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the large closet.

You take in the decorations. It’s unmistakably a frat boy's room, but much cleaner than you’re used to. There’s a gaming station, and a mini fridge that you’d guess is full of beer. A clothing rack shows off some of Johnny’s more sophisticated tastes.

You’re curious about what else he has in his stash, so you join him by the closet, peeking inside. “We’re looking for tequila right?”

God, he has a whole shelf full of expensive bottles of booze.

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “Should be in the back here somewhere.”

“Isn’t this tequila?” you ask, pointing to a bottle he’s brushed past.

“Close,” Johnny flashes a grin at you before continuing to rummage, “but no cigar.”

You freeze.

It’s been nearly a week since your first interaction with Ghostie, but you remember that interesting turn of phrase like it was yesterday.

But- it can’t be.

Johnny can’t be your mystery caller-

Can he?

“Found it,” Johnny announces, pulling an immaculate bottle of tequila out. His gaze lands on you. “You alright, Tiny? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I mean… have I?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…” You swallow thickly. “Are you my Ghostie?”

Johnny meets your gaze with a steady look. “Does it upset you?”

It’s not a clear confirmation, but it’s a confirmation nonetheless.

You stare at him in absolute shock for a moment. He looks insanely gorgeous tonight, all broad, with his pretty lips- without even knowing what you’re doing, you find yourself throwing your arms around him and burying your face against his chest.

Johnny freezes, obviously startled by the sudden contact, but then he’s wrapping you in a tight embrace. One of his hands finds the back of your head, and he cradles you close.

Neither of you say anything, you simply hold each other while you come to terms with everything.

He’s so stupid for ever thinking you wouldn’t want him-

You do want him. You want him so bad-

Pulling away from his chest, you tilt your chip up, reaching for his face. You cup his cheek while you move on your tiptoes to press your lips against his.

He appears just as shocked at this movement as when you’d hugged him, but he eases into it all the same, kissing you back gently.

But you don’t want gentle, you want him.

You’re pent up from a week of teasing, and you shift in his embrace, wrapping both arms around the back of his neck while you glide your tongue against his lip.

Johnny lets out a groan, his mouth opening for you while his hands slip down to tug your waist closer.

The kiss deepens and now it’s your turn to release a moan, pressing your tits closer to his chest. He feels like heaven against you, and his lips are absolutely magic. His tongue glides gently against your own. You can taste beer, but it’s not unpleasant, in fact, it turns you on even more.

You thread your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp-

“Fuck,” Johnny mutters against your mouth.

Then he’s bending down, hands grabbing at your ass and prompting you to jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and he carries you effortlessly, closing the distance to his bed.

Instead of tossing you down, he sits on the mattress and suddenly your knees are digging into his charcoal duvet. You’re on top, fingers in his hair, your tongue licking at his lip, and you’ve never felt so powerful.

It gives you the confidence to wiggle your hips a little, and you’re pleased to find he’s already growing hard in his jeans. God, he feels big- and your pussy throbs at the idea of what you’re going to do to him tonight.

You’re in a dress, and your panty-clad core feels delightful against bulging denim. Johnny’s grabbing at your bare thigh, kneading your flesh, and it makes you moan desperately. Not only is he skilled with his tongue, but his hands seem to know what they’re doing too.

Suddenly he’s grabbing at your hair, tugging you so you arch your head back, giving him access to your throat. His mouth feels amazing as he begins to lick and suck on your neck, finding your sweet spot way too easily-

“Who-” You swallow thickly. “Who gave you my number?”

Johnny laughs against your skin, pulling away to look up at you with dark eyes. “Mark did.”

“Mark?!” You’re in absolute shock now.

“Gave it to me during finals last year,” Johnny explains. “But… we both had busy summers and…” one of his hands sneaks down to guide your hips, helping you grind against him, “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “I’m also Mark’s big, and it’s not like you and I have ever been close.”

“But you’ve liked me for a while, haven’t you, Ghostie?”

He groans at the nickname, looking up at you with eyes full of wonder. “Longer than you know.”

You wish you could say you’ve felt the same- but in all honesty, you have always seen him as Mark’s big. As an older fratboy dad type-

The way he’s acted with you this week has inklings of that protective daddy personality you know and enjoy, but… he’s not been particularly dad-like. He’s shown you a new side of himself, and you’re so fucking happy he did.

“You know, when Mark finds out you’re my stalker he’s going to flip.”

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Johnny insists, grinning up at you as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you grind against him harder.

“God, you even hired me for a job-”

He laughs. “It wasn’t favoritism, you had a cover letter, the bar owner was even impressed.”

“You’re so bad- this whole time you’ve been mind fucking me. I would have never guessed my Ghostie worked at Skeets.”

“Well, I do have a minor in psychology,” he admits. “Figured the best place to hide is in plain sight.”

“You even smoked a joint in front of me and I never guessed-”

“Yeah, I was playing with fire with that one,” Johnny laughs.

“It’s funny. I was so busy thinking about being loyal to Ghostie that I was trying not to check you out last night.”

“And I’m so lucky to have you. You wouldn’t even let me put on your Ghost Face mask, so busy saving it for Ghostie.”

“Saving myself too,” you note, grinning down at him.

“Yeah?”

“We’ve talked every night since Sunday- I haven’t cum in over a week.”

“Fuck, Tiny,” Johnny groans. “I guess I better help you out then.”

“Really? How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll let you stay on top for a while, let you grind against me until you’re begging for me to tear your dress off.” He pulls at the strap on your shoulder. “Then, I’ll flip you over, get on my knees, and eat you out like the good girl you are, stretching you open with my fingers.”

“And then?”

“When you’re shaking and delirious from cumming, I’ll fuck you right. Bet you’ve never really been fucked right before.”

God, you definitely haven’t. At least- you know you’ve never been fucked the way Johnny is about to fuck you.

“What if I already want you to tear my dress off?” you ask, grinding down against his cock.

Johnny lets out a low groan, grinning at you. “Tiny, you’re nowhere near begging yet.”

“I’m not?” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his throat before your teeth drag against his earlobe. “Please, Ghostie, I’m already so fucking wet, you wouldn’t believe it-”

He laughs, hand finding your hair again. He tugs you away from his neck, pressing his lips to your own and kissing you hard.

He takes your breath away. His tongue is perfect, licking and tasting- making you moan loudly while you work your hips, swiveling on his denim-covered cock.

“Fuck, Ghostie, you’re so fucking big-”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promises, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing so hard it almost hurts. But the pain is wonderful, and you cry out in ecstasy, working yourself harder against him.

If it wasn’t for his enticing cock, you think you could make out with him like this forever.

You just want to be naked, so you grab at your dress, intent on lifting it off-

Johnny stops you. “I’ve told you patience is a virtue, haven’t I, Tiny?”

You groan in annoyance. “John, please-”

“Ghostie,” he corrects you.

You don’t even care- you simply grab his hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingertips brush over your soaked panties, and you gasp at the feeling of him, immediately grinding down, looking for relief.

“Fuck-” you moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

He begins to circle your clit through your thong and you’re forced to grab at his shoulder to steady yourself, whimpering loudly.

“Shit, Tiny, you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers.

“I need you,” you gasp, feeling an orgasm already bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Please, move my panties to the side-”

Johnny doesn’t question you this time. He pulls your thong away, easily burying two large fingers into your wet, needy core.

Now you’re really gasping. You lean forward, wrapping both arms around his strong shoulders and burying your face against his throat. “Oh my God, Ghostie- don’t stop-”

“You’re going to cum from this, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

You nod desperately, swiveling your hips so your clit can rub against the palm of his hand while his fingers work you open.

“So good,” you whimper. “So fucking good-”

Johnny groans, curving his fingers and stroking your gspot.

You squeal in his lap, thigh muscles clenching while your pussy begins to throb around the foreign intrusions. You’re so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Want you to cum for me. Wanna hear your sounds while you drip down my hand.”

Fuck, he’s way too sexy, voice all low and seductive. He’s breathing hard, and you can tell you’re turning him on just from riding his fingers-

“Come on, Tiny, who’s my good girl?”

“I am-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you straight on.

You moan loudly, burying your face against Johnny’s neck. You’re panting against his skin, wiggling your hips while his fingers continue inside of you, driving you absolutely insane. Waves of pleasure are overtaking your form, and your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed by the feeling of ecstasy that Johnny provides for you.

“That’s it,” Johnny encourages you. “So fucking good for me.”

You’re shaking on his lap by the time your high is over, and you press wet kisses to his throat, earning groans from your Ghostie.

You reach down for your dress, lifting it up and off your body. Johnny pulls back, watching you with dark eyes. He takes his fingers out of your wet pussy, bringing them to his lips to clean. But he’s not done there, as you toss the fabric to the floor, Johnny offers you his digits next.

You lock eyes with him for a moment before leaning forward and accepting, taking his wet fingers into your mouth and helping suck them clean. You groa at the taste of yourself. Johnny watches the motion, his free hand finding your hip and forcing you to grind down against his cock.

“You’re so hot, Tiny,” he says, removing his fingers from your lips.

“Wait till you see me naked,” you grin, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra.

It falls away easily, and Johnny’s large hands cup your breasts almost immediately. His head dips, eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. “Fuck, how does a girl get this perfect?”

“How does a guy get a massive cock like yours?” you counter, rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans.

“Touche,” he chuckles, leaning down to lick your nipple.

You thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him to show more affection to your chest, which he’s more than happy to do. His large hand cups your right breast while he worships your other with his mouth, suckling on your nipple. His teeth drag gently against the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, rocking your hips all the while.

“As much as I’d love to keep sucking on your tits,” Johnny sighs, lips moving up your throat again, “I’d rather be between your legs.”

“Ghostie, do whatever you want to me,” you instruct, feeling delightfully submissive.

“You got it, Tiny.”

In one easy motion, he flips you so your back is on the bed. Johnny pulls away from you, sinking to his knees at the edge of the mattress before grabbing you and tugging you closer. He tears his own shirt off, giving you a great view of muscles that make you even wetter. Then he grabs your panties, sliding them down your legs so you’re completely bare for him now.

Johnny doesn’t say anything, he simply licks his lips and dives into you. His tongue parts your folds, dipping inside to taste your walls while your legs shake around his head. “Fuck, Ghostie-”

You reach down to grab his hair, applying enough pressure to his head to let him know you’re enjoying what he’s doing… if he can’t already tell from your desperately needy moans.

His lips move to suction on your clit and a squeal escapes you, your back arching slightly at the sensation.

You’re sensitive from having cum already, sensitive from having not cum all week only to be getting this much attention now. But you’re also probably sensitive because this is Johnny, because there’s been a build-up that’s left you ready to pop, and he seems intent on making you pop multiple times for him.

“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes closed, abdominal muscles tensing with effort as his skilled tongue works you up again.

Johnny groans against your pussy and it’s one of the sexiest things that’s ever happened to you. Your grip on his hair tightens, your core throbbing with pleasure already.

When he adds two fingers into your dripping hole, you know you’re not going to last, but you don’t think he wants you to.

In fact, you’d bet that Johnny himself is just about ready to explode. You can’t believe he doesn’t have his cock out yet- can’t believe he’s so intent on making you cum twice before getting any satisfaction for himself.

“Fuck, Ghostie-” You want to tell him how close you are to cumming, but you can hardly get the words out between your moans. “I’m- holy shit-”

Johnny finger fucks you even harder, his mouth focusing on your clit, and you’re pretty sure he’s understood your garbled attempt to warn him, pretty sure he wants you to cum.

You allow yourself to find your release, your back arching again as you tug on Johnny’s hair, keeping his face between your legs. You grind down slightly, your body chasing your orgasm as it surges through you like fire in your veins.

Johnny lets out a low groan again, and your entire body twitches at the extra stimulation. You’re gasping now. Nothing has ever felt this good-

To his credit, Johnny tries to help you through your entire orgasm, but he pulls away before you’re truly finished. You can feel him panting against your pussy, and when you open your eyes to look down at him, you find Johnny staring at you with the horniest expression you’ve ever seen on a man.

“Ghostie-” you whimper, shifting against his duvet.

“Condoms,” he says, pulling his fingers out of your core and standing up.

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him quickly, making him freeze. “And if we’re both clean-”

Johnny practically moans at the idea, looking down at your body. “Does my Tiny want to be filled up all nice and good?”

Now it’s your turn to groan, and you nod, licking your lips. You sit up next, feeling your skin heat at the words you want to say, “I also… I wanna suck you off first.”

Johnny approaches the bed again, towering over you. It’s hard to focus on his eyes when his abs and strong biceps and veiny forearms are drawing your attention, but when he cups your jaw it makes things easier. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You pretty much stalked me for a week,” you tease, grinning.

Your Ghostie lets out a laugh. He doesn’t bother to check you on the word ‘stalking’ this time, even though he’s always been adamant that’s not what he was up to. It’s nice to have this little win, and as a reward for him biting his tongue, you reach out to undo his belt.

As the buckle unclasps and you move to his zipper, there’s a loud banging on the door.

Johnny looks over his shoulder and you can hear Hyuck screaming “Tequila!”

The frat boy in front of you lifts his finger to his lips, a shushing motion, and then he reaches into his back pocket for his phone. You bet he’s going to text Hyuck some lie about not being in the room, but you’re too horny to slow down.

You get his jeans undone and you bundle your hands up in all the fabric, roughly tugging them down.

Johnny lets out a groan when his large cock slaps up against his abdomen, and he moves his phone to the side to give himself a better view, holding it with one hand while raising a brow at you.

You’re on your knees at the foot of the bed now while Johnny stands there, and you steady yourself, grabbing the base of his cock. With one last wink at Ghostie, you lean forward, kitten licking his length from balls to tip.

The man above you quickly types in the text, then tosses his phone to the side, his large hand coming down to cup your cheek. You take this as a sign to accept him into your mouth, so you do exactly that.

He’s so large and thick- you haven’t sucked cock in a while, and you’ve never sucked a cock as big as his. You know you can take your time, Johnny’s always been patient with you.

You start by paying attention to the head, swirling your tongue around him and getting used to his size. Your eyes close, mind focused completely on your task. You’re already drooling from this, and you can feel your saliva dripping down his shaft. You smooth your thumb along the new trail of spit, helping lube your hand so you can begin to pump his cock.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, tightening his grip in your hair.

You try to sink your mouth further onto his cock, but it’s difficult. He’s just so huge-

Your pussy throbs knowing that soon, this monster dick is going to be inside of you-

Without any lube that you’ve seen so far, you want to make him as slicked up as possible, and it helps that you’re drooling from how sexy all of this is.

His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly, powering through the uncomfortable feeling as you glide your tongue along his shaft. You’re not a quitter.

“Holy fuck, Tiny-” Johnny praises you. “You don’t have to try to take more than you can handle-”

But you want to. You want to pleasure him the way he’s pleasured you, and his words only prompt you to suck harder, earning more groans from the man above you.

“You’re so good at this,” he continues his words of encouragement, and they do help you take him deeper. His voice is smooth, sexy, and thankfully not modulated in any way.

You’ve never realized how nice John’s voice really is.

You apply more pressure with your hand, pumping him faster-

“Okay, okay-” Johnny tugs gently on your hair, prompting you to pull off of his cock and blink up at him in confusion. “I have to fuck you now. I’m done waiting.”

You let out a tiny mewl, nodding.

Johnny kicks off his jeans completely, pressing a knee onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you, and then he’s grabbing your body. In one easy motion, he tosses you a few feet up the mattress, so your head can land against the pillows.

God, he makes you feel truly Tiny- it’s one of the sexiest things ever.

He takes his place between your legs next, lips finding yours. One of his hands cups your cheek, and the kiss deepens, his tongue invading your mouth while your arms wrap around his strong shoulders.

You can feel his cock sliding between your pussy lips, and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, how much drool you’ve left on him.

“Please-” you whimper. You can’t wait another moment either, you have to know what he feels like. You reach your hand between your bodies, grabbing his cock so you can line him up with you properly. “Ghostie, I can’t-”

He kisses you, cutting you off. Something tells you Johnny understands, and the moment you have him properly situated, he begins to push into you.

You gasp against his lips, letting go of his cock so you can grab his shoulders. He’d worked you open with his fingers two times over, but nothing compares to this. You can feel your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth, and it leaves you practically brain-dead.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Johnny tells you, lips moving to your throat so he can suck on your sweet spot while he continues to burry into your hot, wet core.

You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, closing your eyes while the feeling of him overtakes you. You’ve never moaned like this before, never felt anything like Johnny-

He groans loudly against your skin, gently thrusting, coating his cock in your juices to make things easier-

The moment his hips hit flush to yours, his full cock buried inside of you, you both gasp. Johnny grabs at your hands, interlocking your fingers and pinning them to the pillows on either side of your head.

“Fuck, you’re so big, you’re so-” You can’t even think, especially not when he takes another test thrust.

His cock drags against your inner walls and you cry out, body tingling.

“You take me so well, Tiny,” he praises you, mouth still hot on your throat. “The perfect fit.”

You can’t speak, not now, but you can squeeze his hands and tilt your head to the side, kissing his cheek. Johnny takes the cue to bring his lips back to yours, and you’re immediately lost in yet another breathtaking makeout session.

He’s moving slow, fucking into you at a gentle pace, allowing your body to get used to his massive size.

But you’re feeling particularly desperate, and greedy. “More.”

“More?” He laughs. “You sure about that?”

You nod, eager to be decimated by him. “Please, ruin me-”

Johnny groans, letting go of one of your hands so he can press his palm flat to the bed, giving himself more leverage. He begins to fuck you faster, and each meeting of his cock to your core has you whimpering like a whore in heat.

“You make the cutest fucking sounds,” Johnny breathes.

Only he - with his cock making you feral - would call your noises of pleasure cute.

He’s so stupidly endearing.

“Fuck, Tiny, you’re dripping- making this too fucking easy for me.”

It’s absolutely embarrassing how wet you are. He’s gliding into you with no issues now, and each movement is like heaven. The head of his cock hits a spot deep in your stomach- you can’t help but reach down, pressing your palm to your abdomen-

You can feel him rearranging your guts, and you both groan when you apply a bit of pressure.

“Deep, huh?” Johnny lets out a moaned chuckle.

“So deep-” you agree, words slightly garbled.

“I’ve just started with you and you can hardly speak,” Johnny muses. “Wonder what’s gonna happen when I make you cum again.”

You cry out desperately, removing your hand from your stomach so you can claw at his hair, bringing his lips back to your own.

You’re tired of thinking- all you want to do is experience this, experience him, at your fullest- and boy, are you fucking full.

Johnny lets go of your other hand, reaching for your thigh. He adjusts it higher on his hip and suddenly he’s driving into you even deeper.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you gasp loudly against his lips. Johnny traces his tongue along your teeth, and you can feel him smirking.

You love that he’s enjoying this- enjoying watching you come completely undone for him.

“You know,” he says, “if you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long.”

You don’t even care. You know this isn’t the only time you’ll be fucking this man- and after cumming twice already, your body is near its limit of pleasure, if that’s even possible. In fact, there’s something very sexy about making a man cum quicker than he’s used to, and your pussy clenches at the thought.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans again. “Can I flip you over?”

At this point, you’ll agree to any request, and you nod quickly, biting at your lip.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls away from you. His cock slips out of your core and you whine at the loss, only for his two large hands to grab your waist and manually turn you onto your stomach. Then he adjusts your hips, pulling you up into doggy position.

“If you need to scream, use the pillows,” Johnny warns you, lining up with your pussy again.

The first thrust has you doing exactly that. You bury your face into the pillow, letting out a loud cry as his cock hits deeper than before.

This position might just kill you, but you don’t care.

His hands feel so good- so large and warm and steady on your hips as he finds an even rougher pace.

You can hear your ass smacking loudly against his front with each thrust and it only adds to your arousal.

Bunching your hands up in his duvet, you do your best not to be so loud that the whole frat will hear you. But it’s so difficult not to just melt under him-

You can feel your eyes welling with pleasure-fueled tears, and it drives you crazy.

“Fuck, you like this position, don’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes, Ghostie!” you gasp, nodding while his cock continues to make you feel like absolute heaven.

“You look fucking perfect like this,” he tells you. “Face down, ass up. Pretty soon you’ll be begging for me to fill you up even more.”

His words flip a switch inside of you. “God, yes, please-” you cry out. “I want it so bad-”

“Want what?”

“Want your cum,” you whimper. “Wanna be so full-”

Johnny groans, grabbing rough fistfuls of your ass while he fucks you even harder.

“I need it, Ghostie, I need it-” You’re crying now, and Johnny notices.

He bends over your back, bracing an arm across your chest so he can lift you onto your knees. He cups your jaw, thumb stroking through a tear track. “Holy shit, Tiny,” he moans, mouth hot against your shoulder.

“Please, Ghostie, please-” you whimper, lower lip trembling-

You’re so close-

Johnny lets go of your jaw, and his hand slips down your front. You jolt when his fingers make contact with your clit, wriggling in his grasp.

“I’m almost there, Tiny,” he admits. “Watching you cum will tip me over the edge- you’ll be good and cum for me, right?”

All you can do is nod. Words are gone. Your mind is blank except for the pleasure that’s coursing through you.

Your noises are getting pitchier, and Johnny works you all the way to your peak. You gasp loudly as you topple over the edge, core clamping down hard on his cock.

Your legs feel like jelly, and Johnny releases you, allowing you to fall to the bed while your orgasm ravages your form. You’re clawing at the sheets, burying your face in his bed to muffle your screams-

His hands are bruising on your hips, and you hear him let out a loud groan. You can feel him filling you up, his motions faltering ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your shoulders and it’s added stimulus that makes you twitch, so completely overwhelmed that it almost feels like you’re about to black out.

But you don’t want to miss a second of this. His groans of pleasure keep you in the moment even as your mind is in a sex daze.

Johnny rides you through your high, thrusts slowing until he comes to a stop behind you.

You’re both breathing heavily now, and Johnny stays still for a moment, enjoying the last of your orgasm aftershocks. Then he flattens his chest to your back, hand falling to the bed next to your own.

“Holy shit,” he breathes.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and it makes Johnny groan as your core clenches again.

He kisses your shoulder, lips oddly tender in comparison to the way he just blew your back out.

“Ghostie-” you whimper, wanting to collapse on his bed from exhaustion.

“Stay still, I’ll get something to clean you up,” he assures you, pressing one last kiss to your skin before straightening from your back.

You miss his warmth as soon as he’s gone, and you especially miss his cock when it slides out of you.

You feel him get off the bed, and a moment later, something begins to drip down your inner thighs. He really filled you up, and it makes you twitch. You reach a hand between your legs, cupping your core and rolling onto your back on his bed, trying to breathe properly.

Johnny is back a second later, and you can feel his gaze on you.

“Spread these thighs for me, Tiny,” he says gently, touching your knee.

You open your eyes, and then you open your legs.

Johnny moves your hand out of the way, letting out a groan. “You have no idea how fucking hot this is-” he tells you, wiping your core clean of his cum.

You still don’t have it within yourself to speak, you can only watch him toss the tissue in the garbage before you’re making grabby hands at him.

Johnny laughs. He sits on the bed next to you, leaning against the headboard before scooping you into his lap. He’s so fucking big, and he makes you feel safe cuddled in his arms, your cheek pressed to his chest.

His heart is still racing, and it makes you feel better to know you’re not the only one who’s so affected by this.

Johnny’s fingers begin to thread through your hair, and he simply holds you while you come out of subspace.

The party is still in full swing outside, and it’s an interesting feeling to have such a private moment with Johnny in the middle of a frat on Halloween.

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you ask finally.

Johnny laughs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says soothingly.

You pull away from his chest, looking up at him. His hand moves to cup your face and you press your lips to his. It’s a much gentler kiss than he’d given you mid-fuck, and it eases your racing heart.

“Ghostie?”

“Yeah, Tiny?”

“I like you a lot.”

He lets out another chuckle. “I like you too.”

“We’ll do this again sometime, right?”

“Of course, Tiny.” His hand smooths up and down your back. “I’d also like to take you on dates, if you’ll let me.”

“I’d like that,” you nod, relaxing against his chest again. “And… and when you call me, no more voice modulator.”

“No?”

“I like your voice, your real voice.” God, you’re feeling so soft and mushy for him.

“I like your voice too.” For a second, it’s a sweet moment, and then Johnny continues, “Liked listening to your whimpers.”

He’s such a frat boy, but you kind of love him for it. “Did you like my tears too?”

“Only if they’re for a good reason,” Johnny says. “If anyone else ever makes you cry, I’ll have to fuck them up.”

“My protective Ghostie,” you grin, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

“As much as I’d love to stay cuddling you forever, I should probably bring the boys some tequila,” Johnny sighs.

“The boys,” you echo. “I feel like I’ve just fucked Mark and Hyuck’s dad.”

“Do you have a daddy kink, Tiny?”

“For you, I have any kink you want,” you laugh.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Just… kiss me again?” you ask. “We can bring tequila after.”

“Are you sure you want to come with? You can stay here and I’ll come back-”

“We should…” you lick your lips, “we should be social.”

“I just fucked your brains out and you want to go be social?” Johnny grins. “Maybe I didn’t work you over well enough.”

“You worked me over perfect,” you laugh, grabbing at his jaw so you can press your lips to his.

Johnny melts into the kiss, and there’s something in it that feels like coming home. You’ve never felt this safe with a guy before, and it’s kind of starting to scare you.

If you were to stay here- you think you might even fall in love with Johnny… that is, if you haven’t already.

You pull away from your Ghostie, letting out a sigh.

Getting out of his lap isn’t fun, and your legs are wobbly as you stand next to the bed, but Johnny’s hands go to your hips to steady you.

When he stands, he towers over you, and you’re overcome by your thirst for him all over again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him in for another kiss.

It’s so easy to get lost in making out with Johnny, but you have to tear yourself away, nodding, “Tequila.”

“Tequila,” he echoes. “Can you stand by yourself?”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, but it still hurts when he lets you go.

Johnny pulls on some sweatpants while you find your dress-

“You’re not putting that back on,” Johnny tells you, moving to his closet. “Let me give you some clothes.”

“Are you trying to announce to Mark and Hyuck that we’ve fucked?” you laugh, accepting the large t-shirt he throws your way.

“Trust me, Tiny, they’ll know.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“After this, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself, and something tells me you won’t be able to either.” Johnny pulls on a hoodie, grabbing the tequila and turning to you. “I know you, remember?”

You grin, pulling on the pair of black boxer shorts he’d also sent your way. “Maybe a little too well.”

“Or not well enough,” Johnny suggests, approaching you again.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Only for you,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you again. “You look cute in my clothes.”

“Do I look like I just got fucked senseless?”

“Definitely.”

“Mark’s going to hate you,” you laugh.

“He’ll get over it,” Johnny brushes it off, reaching for your hand. “Ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You can still stay here if you want.”

“No, let’s face this now.” You need to be firm, need to get out of this love den before you find yourself even more loved up.

The two of you head to his door and Johnny holds it open for you.

In the time you’ve been fucking, it looks like a lot of people have dispersed from the party, so walking through the hallway isn’t exactly a walk of shame. However, when you get down the stairs to Mark’s floor, you realize you still have to pull up your big girl panties to face him.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” you tell Johnny, “I’ll meet you in Mark’s.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?”

“To the bathroom?” you laugh. “I think I’m good.”

With one last kiss, you make your way to the frat bathroom at the end of the hall. It’s important to go pee after sex, for UTI reasons, your sorority big sister has drilled that into you since first year. When you’re done, you head to the sink, daring a look at yourself in the dirty mirror.

You look fucked, but you also look happy.

In fact, you can’t stop smiling.

After washing your hands, you dab some water on your throat, hoping it will calm you down. Once you feel good and ready, you exit the bathroom.

Mark’s door is open when you get to his room, and you poke your head inside.

Jaehyun and Hyuck are on one bed, Mark and Johnny on the other, and they’re all lifting shots to their mouths. As you step inside, Mark’s gaze shifts to you. He takes in your new outfit and his eyes widen, then he spits out his shot, coughing loudly.

Johnny’s hand finds Mark’s back while he practically coughs up a lung, and then Mark is leaping to his feet. “What-” His eyes dart between you and Johnny, and you can see the realization there.

“Jesus, Mark, learn how to handle a shot,” Hyuck scoffs.

Mark doesn’t even entertain Hyuck, he simply turns to his big, pointing an accusatory finger at Johnny’s chest. “You’re Ghostie!?”

Johnny stands up. “You’re the one who gave me her number last year.”

“I what?!” Mark’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head now.

Hyuck and Jaehyun exchange a look, and Hyuck reaches for the tequila to pour another shot.

“Mark, it could be worse-” you say, trying to de-escalate the situation while stepping further into the room.

“How could it be worse!?” Mark bellows. “My Big is a stalker!”

“He’s not a stalker,” you defend Johnny, coming to join your tall new lover, your hand reaching for his.

“You’re her new boss!” Mark insists.

“Hyuck fucked our last bar manager,” Johnny points out.

“Guilty,” Hyuck smirks over the rim of his new shot.

Mark’s still not having any of this situation. “This is fucked up.”

“Mark, I’ve told you a million times, it’s spooky season.” You can’t help but giggle. This has been such a turn of events, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“You better not hurt her,” Mark says next, trying to meet Johnny’s gaze even while substantially shorter.

“I won’t,” Johnny promises.

“This is just-” Mark shakes his head. “Fuck this, I need to sleep.”

“We can move the party to my room,” Jaehyun says, already grabbing the bottle of tequila while Hyuck reaches for his bong.

It’s clear Mark’s done talking, and he collapses onto his bed face first like a tantruming toddler. You’ll discuss this with him another day, but you know now is probably not the time to push him to accept that his Big has a whole different side to him that Mark’s never seen.

As you leave the room with Hyuck, Johnny and Jaehyun, Hyuck elbows you in the side. “I always knew you’d end up with one of us.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, gaze shifting to Johnny and Jaehyun who walk a few feet ahead of you.

“Once an NCT girl, always an NCT girl,” Hyuck nods. “And between us…” he leans closer, “Johnny is a good one.”

Your Ghostie looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his gaze with a smile. “He is,” you agree. “Hey, John?”

“Yes, Tiny?” He stops at the door to the stairwell, holding it open and allowing you to catch up.

“I changed my mind, I think I am done with the party tonight.”

“Yeah?” Johnny smirks. “Gonna come back to my room?”

“If you invite me.”

“Tiny, my room has an open-door policy for you now.”

“Is that so?” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Uh huh,” Johnny grins. “And free cuddles, anytime you want them.”

“I like the sound of that,” you confess.

“Just get married already!” Hyuck shouts back at the two of you as he climbs the stairs with Jaehyun.

You and Johnny can only laugh at Hyuck. Your willpower is completely gone, and you allow your Ghostie to take you back to his room.

He cuddles you close as the party dies down outside, and you find yourself slipping into the best sleep of your life on Halloween night with your Ghostie by your side.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Halloween is my favourite Holiday, and there's something about Johnny and horror genre that makes me go feral

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. There’s no way he should be this fucking sexy. You’re outside in the cold, parkas on, a Santa hat on his head, a joint between his lips, both your jeans down to your knees, his hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he’s about to fuck you against a wall with his massive cock- you’ve decided that Johnny as a whole is simply illegal.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism in an alley, weed use, slight temperature play, big dick Johnny, quickie, cum kink/filling panties with cum while at work, praise, dirty talk, size kink, hand over mouth silencing, choking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, pretty girl, good girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 275

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

You’ve been dating Johnny for a month and a half and you still can’t get enough of him. Whenever you pop over to the frat, it’s not long before one of you is dragging the other to his room. There’s never been sexual chemistry like there is for you and your Ghostie.

You’d never thought your biggest hurdle in the workplace would be refraining from jumping your bar manager, but here you are, every shift, practically drooling over him. Each brush of his hands across your body as he moves behind you to grab something makes you want to tear his clothes off, and your patience is at an all-time low.

With Christmas fast approaching, the bar scene has substantially dwindled, and it’s making you even more needy. When Skeets only has a handful of customers, you fill drink orders while thinking about sucking on Johnny’s cock.

It doesn’t help that he’s started wearing a Santa hat- why does it make him even sexier?

As Johnny smiles and makes casual conversation with a pair of girls sitting at the bar, you do your best to calm yourself. At the end of the night, you’ll be the one in Johnny’s bed, you just have to get to closing.

You notice in the periphery of your vision that the girls are finishing up with their drinks. Johnny excuses himself to grab the card reader, and as he slips past your ass, you feel his hard cock in his jeans. It’s difficult to stifle a moan, and you do so by biting on your lip.

He loves teasing you, especially while you’re at work, and it drives you absolutely mental.

☀️to read the full 2.5k bonus, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa - @just-here-to-read-01 - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas

✘ nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry

@sehunniepot

Thank you to everyone who interacted with the teaser

@jujusnogood - @sharkiebby - @miriamxsworld - @jaehyunpeachyy

@04jnlee - @nctevia - @stolasisyourparent - @livelykookie

@chan-s-laptop - @ficrecnctskz

#johnny suh #johnny suh smut #nct #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #johnny nct #johnny nct smut #nct johnny smut #nct johnny #frat nct #frat nct smut #frat johnny smut #frat johnny suh #frat johnny suh smut

5K notes · View notes

safination · 8 months ago

Text

Partners in Death... and Life

Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From the Radio Should be Trusted

| Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn't Explain Himself| Part 4: The Radio Star’s Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes||Masterlist| ao3| Tag-list| Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason. Please take note of the following warnings: Body horror. Graphic descriptions of injuries, glass piercing skin, cutting of skin, cutting of chest. Dissection of Human muscles. Misogyny Just…be careful out there

Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason.

Hello. I usually aim to post on Wednesdays, and I knoooow it's not a Wednesday. But, in my defense, this chapter is longer than chapters 1 and 2 combined. Also, I tried to keep the body horror to a medium level. I tried to find a perfect balance of horrifying but also still readable. Would you guys want more body horror, or less, or is this a good amount? Updated: 5/01/2024 *just realized that I forgot to add the part I was supposed to add*

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The heart monitor beeps with a steady rhythm. The model’s ECG reading dip, but that’s normal for her species. You study the model asleep on your table, and take your place.

Turning to your interns, you adjust the fit of your gloves as say, “Are you ready?

From the other side of the table, Lys nods her head with such vigor that you’re afraid it would fall off. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be!”

Heme takes their place next to you, wheeling the cart within your reach. “Aren’t there supposed to be more people here?” they ask, adjusting the fit of their mask with their shoulder. “We don’t even have an anesthesiologist present, and the technician dumped the tools and left without a word!”

Sighing, you take another look at the screen, and monitor the patient’s ECG readings. Just a couple of decades ago, you wouldn’t even be allowed to take five steps into a surgical suite, but in your death, you stare at the state-of-the-art Vox technology heart monitor.

“This was dumped at the last minute. And the Vees paid a hefty amount for the best,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I guess it doesn’t help that most of the staff have clocked-off for the night already.”

“It really doesn’t,” Heme says. You think they frown, you’re not actually sure. It’s hard to tell with masks on, but Heme sounds like they’re frowning.

“On the bright side, this is a special case, and special cases require special means,” you say. “Stick around, and I’ll make sure to show you something amazing.”

Lys squeals, jumping a bit, “I can’t wait to see your work.”

You turn to Heme. “Tell how you were guided into stopping the bleeding by Doctor Neisseria.”

Heme straightens, round their shoulders. “Hemostatic dressing for the capillaries,” they recite. “Then Lys clipped the bigger vessels, and Doctor Neisseria used an electrocautery for any that we missed.”

“Good,” you say. “Lys, is this your first time using a clip?”

“ . . . Yes,” Lys tells you. Even with a mask on, you could tell she was sulking.

You eye the cart between you and Heme, double checking that the technician brought everything you requested for. “It shows,” you say. “Practice every chance you get. Make a deal with some poor and down on their luck Sinner who wouldn’t mind making a deal for permission to poke around whenever you want. They’ll heal on their own if it’s not too severe or don’t—I mean, that’s how I did mine.”

Lys blinks at you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your shoulder slumps. “ . . . Shall we just begin?”

Heme hands you a needle driver, the needle already clipped to it. A bunch of suture forms around your palm. It’s study, and made of pure Sinner Magical Energy, or just magic or whatever. It comes out of your and you have full control, that’s all you need to know.

Heme and Lys lean closer to observe the threads you make.

I don’t get to do this often.” You turn your head, motioning to the detached arm placed on the side. The skin has been stretched and the jagged and stringy muscle fibers sticking out tell you it’s been ripped off rather than slice. The radius protrudes out into the air, jagged and sharp. It would have hurt this model quite a lot. “Steady her arm please.”

Lys snatches the arm, holding it with confidence as she steadies it. “This is so cool.”

Heme hums. “Cool in a gross way.”

“Whether your patient is awake or not, a steady hand is key,” you say. “When you pierce your needle, be sure to do it right at the epidermis when dealing with the skin. Too deep and you’ll puncture the arteries or nerves.”

Lys brings the arm closer, and you do the first suture that will connect the limb of Velvette’s model. Valen-something apparently tore her up, but it wasn’t enough to kill her. So, they rushed her into the Emergency Room three days before this poor girl’s debut, and dropped her into your care with her arm and leg in an ice box.

You sew the model’s arm. The threads around your fingers are light, but sturdy. You entwine some around your fingers like some puppet master for better grip. Blood vessels, bones, nerves, and muscles. Not a single cell escapes your control.

You quiz your interns from time to time or tell them to take a closer look at where the vessels stick out the muscles, making sure they’re able to observe how a proper reattachment is conducted.

You study the threads connecting the arm to its body There are thousands of loose sutures. One single pull, and it will be completely reattached.

You shift your shoulders and crack your neck, giving it a slight stretch. “How long has it been?”

Lys glances at the clock behind you. “Five hours. I think it’s almost sunrise.”

“Be ready to be here for a while,” you say, rolling your shoulders. “The leg will be more complicated.”

Heme groans and their shoulder slump. “I guess I should just be thankful the model is mostly humanistic.”

You pull on the singular thread, and the stitches shorten until the arm is fully connected to its base. A thing line is the only indication that any limbs have been detached.

The door swings open and you snap your head at the sound.

“Hey doc!” The little Egg Boi saunters into the room, an envelope in his tiny hands. “I got something for you.”

Your feathers crack and sharpen. “If you wish to keep your shell,” you hiss at him, “you will leave this room before you contaminate it further.”

Egg Boi #04 wobbles a bit. “I was told to give you a message.”

A headache forms on your temples. You want to massage it, but that would contaminate your gloves. “Lys, show the egg to the observation room. Show him the microphone.”

Lys pouts a bit but exits the surgical suite.

Heme grabs the leg, and you begin again. You pause to take a deep breath. The threads don’t just appear out of thin air—they’re created because you will them to take shape. It gives as much as it needs to take from you.

Egg Boi# 04’s voice echoes on the speaker. “I have a note for you.”

“Read it then leave.” You pierce the tibia bone with your needle (special hell needle, you guess. Normal needles definitely cannot pierce bones) and connect it to the model’s leg.

Your concentration does not waver, even as Lys enters back into the room.

“ My dearest good doctor, ” Egg Boi #04 reads. “ What a helltastic day for –"

“Stop!” you exclaim, and the threads you’re producing fizzle a bit, “Is that from Alastor?”

“Uhhh . . . yes?”

“Give me 10 minutes.” You sew the model’s leg just like before, starting from bones, then vessels, the muscles, and finally skin, but this time at a much faster pace.

Thousands of strings connect the detached leg to its place.

Heme gawks at you. “I thought the leg was more complicated?”

“It is.”

“It took you five minutes to sew everything ,” they say. “Why did it take the arm until sunrise?”

“You wouldn’t have been able to learn anything if I went too fast.” You hand the needle driver to Heme, who takes it with eager hands “I trust you will be able to close for me?”

“Yes!”

“Go around the skin—remember not too deep,” you say. “Once it’s all connected, just one strong pull and the threads should work their magic. Lys, once she closes, you can practice your knots.”

The door closes with a swing. You discard your gloves then peel off your protective layers, but you keep the scrub cap on your head.

The Egg Boi waddles into the room, threatening to tip any moment. He holds up Alastor’s note and you’re forced to bend when you reach for it.

You open the envelope and sigh. “This is a letter, and definitely not a note ,” you say counting all the pages jammed into the envelope. “Notes are small pieces of paper, and not fifteen pages of paper scribbled back-to-back.”

You take one deep breath, flaring your nostrils as you contemplate your marriage choices, and begin reading.

Heme enters the holding room as you’re reading through the last page.

They take a look at the pages you’ve read. “Ohhhhh a letter?” they say, discarding their mask into the trash. Their gloves are next. “Who is it from?”

“My husband.”

“Why a letter?” Heme asks you “Why not just shoot you a text or a phone call?”

“He mumbles to himself when he writes, and he just loves hearing his own voice.” You turn to the Egg Boi once you’ve read the last word. “Tell Alastor I’m busy—I can’t leave work to go to the hotel on such short notice!”

“Right . . .” Heme leans against the sink. “Management will be dropping by this afternoon.”

Your eyes squint. “This afternoon? I was told there'd be visiting tomorrow!”

“Yes, they informed you last night,” Heme says. “It’s tomorrow now—morning, actually.”

Your eyes twitch as you turn to Egg Boi #4. “Tell him I will be early. Now go, run along now, lest you get scrambled.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Bustling sounds from the other side of the circus themed doors. You knock then take a step backwards, least Vaggie greets you with a fist to the face.

A crash sounds from the inside. The door slams open, and Charlie pops out, hair disheveled and sticking out in odd places. You see the relief oozing into her. Charlie’s smile relaxes and her eyes stop bulging at the sight of you.

She says your name with enthusiasm. “It’s just you! I am so glad to see you.”

You wave at her. “Hello, Charlie. It’s good to see you as well.”

“Would you like to come inside?” she says at the same time another crash sounds. Charlie’s smile turns sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

“It’s quite alright,” you say with a polite smile. “Who am I to judge another person’s mess? It can be quite entertaining sometimes.”

Charlies smoothens the stray hairs sticking out. It does little to actually fix it. “Sooooo what brings you by? Not that you’re not welcome here! Everyone is welcome here! We don’t discriminate at –”

The door swings wider and Alastor pops out with that permanent smile of his. “I called her here.”

Alastor helps you out of your coat as you enter through the doors, and drapes it over his arm. “I came early. I hope you don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the crudely attached banners. Strobe lights are being taped to the railings. Its brightness makes you blink. “Are you throwing a party? Is that why you called me here?”

Alastor hangs your coat on the rack. “We’re preparing for a sudden guest,” he says. “It seems we’ll have to delay our plans, only if you’re happy with waiting for me.”

Charlie shrinks and her eyes water a bit. “Alastor . . .,” she says with a frown. “If you have plans, that’s alright—go. We can manage without you here!”

“Not at all, this is where he needs to be right now,” you tell Charlie, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her smile brightens immediately. “Who will be the special guest today?”

Charlie fiddles with her fingers. “We invite my . . . dad .”

Alastor twirls his microphone. “The King of Hell himself.”

“Oh,” you start, “ the demon is coming here?”

“That’s actually Satan,” Charlie says with a smile. “Dad often gents confused with Satan but they’re not the same

“Oh . . . So, Lucifer is coming here.”

“Pretty much.”

You laugh a bit—you’re not even sure why. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed. It sounded so awkward, even to you. “Well, how can I help? If it’s alright with you, of course.”

Charlie’s eyes brighten, and she shakes your shoulders. “Are you sure?”

Alastor grabs Charlie’s fingers with the tip of his own and pry them off you. “I’ve already come all this way,” you say, and turn to your husband. “I’m sure we can make the most out of this situation.”

Charlie leaves to change her clothes, and hopefully brush her hair while she’s at it.

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his, even when you know it’s unnecessary to escort you to a living area that’s five-feet away.

He leaves you, walking to the kitchen with a wave of his microphone.

The hotel looks the same, just more diverse colors hanging around. Niffty stalks past you without a word, engrossed in her task of sweeping the floor. Angel Dust or Vaggie don’t seem to be around, nor is Husk at his usual post. Only a one-eyed cat keeps you company.

On the table, deflated balloons are left forgotten with two pumps resting next to it. You take your seat, and complete the unfinished task.

You’re on the third balloon when Alastor presents a mug to you.

He leans over the chair, reaching his arms to place that ‘ Oh Deer’ mug on the table. It’s difficult to meet his eyes when he leans so far in front that his whole face is upside down.

His hair hangs in the air, and your husband looks goofy in such an awkward position that you can’t help but laugh. “You look awful this hellish morning!” he says, and his grin widens until his teeth show. “I thought you could use a bit of brightening up. You’re practically dozing off in the chair.”

“Thank you,” you say, a small smile on your face. “The coffee smells good.”

Alastor swings back, and lands next to you. “I know we agreed to leave such tasks to you,” he says and he waves his arms as he talks. “But you look ready to drop dead any second. Poor Niffty had swept about a hundred feathers on your short walk from the door to this chair—Long day?”

“ Longer day, actually. Yesterday’s long day turned into a late night that bleeds into today’s early morning.” You take a sip, and revel in its taste. Even after all these years . . . his coffee still tastes like acidic bean water. (If you smile, then that’s your business.) “The coffee tastes good.”

Alastor crosses his leg, cracking a laugh hard enough for his eyes to bulge. “You didn’t even try to check if it’s been tampered,” he says with that same wild smile. “Are you that tired, my love?”

You smile at him, lips curving bright and wide. “My deerest, did you place something into my coffee?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s disappointing,” you say, taking another sip. “That suit of yours could use some brightening up! A splash of this bean water would add such an interesting texture to it.”

“We’ll it good to see you’re not tired enough to lose your way with words,” Alastor says, smiling at you. “But if you’ve had a ‘ longer’ day, you could have sent the Egg Boy—"

“It’s Egg Boi, my deerest.”

Alastor squints, his brow furrowing as he does. “That’s what I said.”

“You said Egg Boy, deerest,” you tell him, taking a longer sip than usual to drown your laughter. “Those eggs are called Egg Bois . They have different numbers—except Frank.”

On the corner of his cheek—just where it’s always been—Alastor’s smile strains. “You said the same thing as I did.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

“Egg Bois .”

“Egg Boys .”

You chuckle a bit, and take another long slip. “If you say so.”

Alastor rolls his eyes and he makes it a point to show you he’s doing so. “You could have mentioned to that egg creature that you’d had a long day.”

“Management was dropping by my floor today.” You grab another balloon to pump it.

Alastor’s head tilts, and you hear the small crack of his neck. Static fills the air. “Well, I’m always glad to be used in such a way.”

You roll your eyes, making it a point to show Alastor that you’re doing so. The sharpened feathers and the glow of your eyes were just for the fun of it. “There is another reason why I dropped by the hotel.”

“Do tell!”

You knot the end of the balloon and throw it to the side. “Who am I to refuse the summon of the Radio Demon?”

“His wife.”

You snort, and toss a balloon at him. One balloon becomes two and now you’re just tossing whatever balloon you could get your hands on.

Alastor pops a balloon and static emits from his microphone.

You cross your arms, staring down at him. “I was going to use that.”

Alastor grabs the second pump.

An hour passes too soon. They always seem to do around your husband. The balloons are stringed and weighted. Razzle and Dazzle—the two lambs Charlie made a point to introduce you too—put up . . . er . . . interesting banner on the railings.

Sir Pentious slithers out the kitchen, a tray of cookies in his hold. The Hazbin Hotel looks lively. The space looks decent—live in — as if Sinners actually gathered and used the space. (Those are your favorite kind.)

Sir Pentious offers a cookie to you, and you munch on it. You give him a compliment for its taste.

By the entrance, with Vaggie to her side and Alastor at the other, Charlie takes a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she does.

Vaggie gives her a smile, and Charlie opens the door.

The bringer of sin rushes to his daughter, drowning her in a hug.“Chaaaaarlie!”

Charlie squirms in his hold. “Heeeyy, Dad!”

Egg Boi #13 and Egg Boi #08 twist their poppers and confetti pops into the air. Niffty grabs her broom, sweeping the floor.

You watch Lucifer, and try to hide your smile. The King of Hell looks different from any paintings or drawings humans make. They can’t seem to capture how shy he looks. How awkward. No painting has been able to capture his search for a place to belong.

This Fallen Angel has blond hair. He’s not the brunette you thought he’d be, which was a shame for you rather liked brunets. It makes sense he’d be blond. Afterall, Charlie has blonde hair as well, and she is the spitting image of her father.

If someone told you it was Lucifer who birthed her, you wouldn’t be able to deny it.

“It’s finally nice to put a name to the face.” Alastor shakes Lucifer’s hand with his microphone, wiping his own right after. “You are much shorter in real life.”

You turn aways, coughing to hide your laughter as Alastor banters with Lucifer.

Husk rolls his eyes at you and grumbles. “Of course, you’d find that hilarious,” he says. “Everyone knows it's smart to insult Lucifer.”

You place a hand on your cheek. “Guilty as charged.”

Charlie brings Lucifer to meet your group. He calls Vaggie, Maggie. Smiles awkwardly when Angel Dust calls him a ‘short king’ . Lucifer waves back when Husk waves at him, and shrinks when Niffty jumps and pulls him by the collar. One by one, you’re introduced.

You extend your arm for a handshake.

Lucifer smiles awkwardly, shrinking a bit, but reaches out to shake your ha—

The chandelier crashes to the floor.

And oh God . . .

Lucifer begins to sing.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Your hair sticks to your face.

Water droplets splash on your clothes. You accept your fate, and trudge through the rain, even as your fingers freeze. The breeze blows your hair, making you nuzzle into your damp coat. You should have brought an umbrella, or taken a cab. Just your luck, a sunny day turns into a drizzle that turns your shoes into a lake. You hate damp socks.

An umbrella blocks the rain from your soaked clothes.

You spring out of its coverage, spinning to look behind. Your arms jerk out, causing you to wobble because of the wet pavement. (That’s totally not embarrassing.)

“The point of an umbrella is to stay underneath it when it’s raining.” Alastor smiles, giving you a small wave.

You wave back.

“Oh . . . hello,” you say, adjusting the straps of your bag. Alastor takes a step forward, and you jump backwards. “I’m alright—I can manage by myself.”

“Why don’t you tell me all about your very capable self from underneath the umbrella,” he says, twirling the umbrella. “Come on, now.”

You dip your head inside. Alastor inches closer, but there’s still a respectable gap between your shoulders. “I’m really alright,” you say. “I quite love the rain.”

“Yes, the rain is a beautiful thing to frolic underneath when you’re in a meadow,” Alastor says. You can’t help but feel that Alastor is scolding you, “not when it splashes off buildings and drips off power lines and other items that have not been cleaned. We are in the city, my dear.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“My mother would roll in her grave and haunt me when she finds out I left a lady in the rain.”

“But—”

“Constant refusal is quite rude, you know,” he tells you. “And I still owe you one favor.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Alastor says with a smile that makes you smile back. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I’m happy to leave my umbrella in your umbrella-less but capable hands, and be on my way.”

You shake your head, inching closer. “We can share if you don’t mind walking.”

“I love walks. It keeps me stimulated.”

Alastor follows your every step, covering you with an umbrella that was meant for one. You glance at his shoulder, and turn away to hide your frown. Half of his shoulder sticks out into the rain, gathering droplets, while not a single speck of water slides on you.

Alastor is giving you the bigger half of the umbrella.

“Would you mind holding this?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you say, and take a hold of his umbrella. Alastor is taller, and you have to quirk your arms higher to avoid hitting his head.

Alastor slips out of his coat. You watch him slide it off his shoulders and pull his arm out the slits. He’s wearing a vest—a fine vest as well. Alastor flicks out stray waterdrops. He leans close enough for you to smell his cologne. He drapes his coat over your shoulders, grabbing the lapels to adjust its fit. His body heat lingers. It’s warm . . . he’s warm.

Alastor pries the umbrella from your grip with a wide smile. “Before you say anything, the only response that I will be accepting is, ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you, Alastor.”

“You’re welcome.” He adjusts the angle of the umbrella, careful to keep every drop of rain from touching you, even at the cost of his own clothes. “Whatever made you decide to walk? There are cabs and busses for a reason.”

“It wasn’t that bad when I started,” you say. “Plus, I was eager to get home.”

He keeps his eyes ahead. “It’s still quite dangerous.”

You step over a puddle, narrowly missing it. “Dangerous?”

“Yes!”

“The sun is—well, was still up when I began walking.”

Alastor hums, shaking his head. “Murders and thieves do not magically dissolve in the sun.”

You smile to yourself. “I’m sure you’re quite knowledgeable on that subject.”

Alastor turns to you, and his hair shifts as he tilts his head. “Pardon?”

“I heard your voice on the radio this morning,” you tell him, adjusting his coat around your shoulders. “I caught the news segment.”

“Well,” he starts, his smile widening. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “you must have been busy when I mentioned the forecast then.”

You inch closer as much as he’ll allow you, trying to keep a respectable distance, but still close enough that Alastor doesn’t need to sacrifice his clothes to keep yours dry. “Speaking of radio, what brings you to this area?” you say. “Isn’t the radio station all the way across town?”

Alastor laughs in a way that makes you wish you’ve kept your mouth shut. “Have you been tracking my movements?”

“Not at all,” you say and try to mimic his laugh. It comes out strained instead. “I just know how to read a map.”

Alastor steps over a puddle. He places a hand on your back, guiding you away from it. “I just had some business in the area,” he says and drops his hand. “I turned the corner and I found you walking all alone in the rain!”

You smile, careful to keep your eyes forward. “I’m thankful to whatever beings that fated our paths to cross.”

Alastor leans closer, eyeing your hands. “Been gardening recently?”

You glance at your nails, at where stubborn soil sticks underneath the cuticle. “No . . . not at all,” you say slowly. “I guess you could say . . . light treasure hunting . . . ?”

“The more I get to know you, the more I find myself dumbfounded at your wide range of hobbies.”

“I hate seeing things go to waste.” You try to ignore the squish of your socks. You are definitely never forgetting your umbrella again. “For example, your garbage is my treasure.”

“What a wonderful philosophy to live by.” Alastor meets your eyes and smiles.

You smile back. “Indeed, isn’t it?”

Alastor’s hold on the umbrella stays firm, even as he follows you around the corner and across the street. Not a single drop of water lands on you. “What treasure were you able to find?”

“You have a lot of questions for me today,” you say and ignore the thumping of your heart. “I feel as if you know me more than I know you—I think that’s rather unfair.”

“Well, what would you like to know?”

You move your foot to avoid puddles of trash. The city could really use a good cleaning. “You know so much about my hobbies. So, I’d like to know some of yours.”

“There isn’t really much to tell,” he says. “The radio is my life.”

A strong breeze has you sinking deeper into Alastor’s coat. “You have your hunts.”

You glance at Alastor, and oh . . . his hair is as brown as his eyes. Wisps of hair stick to his face because of the rain.

Alastor’s brows furrow a bit, but you swear his smile turns sweet. “Those are more of a necessity than a hobby.”

“In what way?”

“The woods around my area have a lot of . . . let’s say, mammals that don’t necessarily belong there, it is as if someone just leaves them from time to time. I hunt a few here and there to thin the population a bit.”

You smile to yourself. “Well, tell me about the radio—What is that like?”

He places his free hand on his chest. “Why, it is the proper medium of expressing oneself, of course.”

“It must be nice having such a creative outlet,” you say. “Sometimes, I wonder how you’re able to come up with the most exciting segments.”

“Sadly, you would think after all these years of bringing success and money into the company, I would be allowed to have more control over my content.”

You step over another puddle. A small tug on Alastor’s arm, and he steps over it as well. “That is quite sad to hear.”

“For example,” he starts, adjusting his hold on the umbrella. “I wanted to have this whole portion just on crimes that have been committed.”

“Like . . . the news?”

“No, not at all,” he says. “I was thinking more on the lines of old cases like robberies and murders—some solved, some not. Unfortunately, the director said it would be too gruesome.”

“It really depends on how you choose to present it,” you say. “I think audiences would love a good mystery with a satisfying conclusion.”

“That is exactly what I thought so as well!” Alastor’s smile widens. “I came across this story . . . Oh, well I wouldn’t want to bother you with the details.”

“I’d love to hear this,” you say, chuckling. “Show me how you would present it.”

“One winter night,” he starts off with that never ending smile on his lips, “a child—no ordinary child—disappears in the middle of the night. There were no signs of a break in and nothing other than the child was taken from the home. Not a single dust was out of place.”

“Wait, what was so special about the child?”

“I will tell you,” he says. “That child was the two-year old son of aviator Charles Lindenberg! Some newspapers called the child the ‘Eaglet’ because his father had become the first man to fly across the Atlantic Oce—Oh, why are we stopping?”

He angles the umbrella, careful to keep you dry. You smile at him and point at the small apartment complex behind you. “This is where I live.”

Alastor doesn’t frown, but his smile droops a bit. “Oh . . . ” he says. “I was getting to the most interesting portion of the story—what a shame.”

“A shame, indeed,” you echo. “You have such a captivating way of conveying your words.”

“Thank you.”

The rain splatters on the umbrella. It’s not going to stop anytime soon. Your socks are damp and it’s starting to get colder. “Would you like to finish what you were saying?”

Alastor’s smile widens, just a bit, but it was enough for you to notice. “On the month of May, after continuous searching, a tiny little corpse was found abandoned on the side of the road. Forensics determined that the baby was bludgeoned to death.”

“It’s quite funny,” you tell him. “You talk of such gruesome murders but I find myself captivated.”

“Indeed.”

“Thank you for going out of your way for me, Alastor.” You slip out of his coat, returning it to him. It’s cold—has it always been this cold. “Will I see you around?”

“Of course,” he says. “We always meet in such unconventional places.”

You duck out of the umbrella, giving him one last smile and head up the steps. A twist of a doorknob, a few flights of stairs, and you would be home. You were tired, your socks are soaking, and the back of your clothes stick to your skin. So, why . . . why do you find yourself running back into the rain?

“Wait!” you find yourself exclaiming.

Alastor covers you with his umbrella. “What’s wrong?”

‘I . . . I may have a problem.” The words are slipping out of your lips. “Are you busy by any chance?”

“Not at all.”

“What about your business in the area?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. “I can always come back.”

“Would you help me?” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Of course.” Alastor brings the umbrella closer to you. “What can I do for you?”

“I think . . . ” you begin to say. Stop. Stop! You should turn back; head inside where warm clothes and a bath awaits you. “I think I’m in the wrong area.”

Alastor laughs, and it’s that same breathy and light laugh as before. He drapes his coat over your shoulder once more, and adjusts its fit to secure it around you. It’s the warmest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I left a lady stranded in the rain.”

“Not at all,” you say with a smile that you do not remember smiling. “Lots of scary thieves and murders out there—apparently they don’t disappear during the day.”

Alastor nudges you along, down the path, to a destination either of you have the faintest idea where it will end.

Your feet stay locked in its place, and you hold Alastor in your gaze. (His bowtie is crooked, and even with his coat around you, he looks presentable. His vest matches his shoes. You note how his smile is asymmetrical, and how his eyes are still as brown as his hair. Alastor’s glasses are frosted, but he doesn’t seem to mind.)

“Are you alright?” Alastor asks you.

“I’m fine. It’s just . . . .” You shake your head and smile. “It would be a waste to forget this.”

“Come on,” Alastor says in a voice that is oh so soft. He offers his arm, and you hook your own around his.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“ Motherfucker! ” Husk curses into the air, his ears quirking as he does. “Would it fucking kill you to be gentle with that shit?”

“I am being gentle.” You stare him down, keeping the towel pressed firmly against his foot. “Would you want to know what it’s like when I’m not? I’d be very happy to comply.”

“ . . . No.”

“Then settle down, Husker ,” you say and use your free hand to grab the forceps from the hotel’s medical kit. “This will be much easier if you stay still . . . or don’t and give yourself a harder time. I’m not the one with glass sticking out of my foot.”

Husk sinks into the clinic bed, sulking as he crosses his arms. He picks on the pillow, fidgeting with its seams. “ Bitch. ”

You raise your eyebrows and huff. “ Virgin. ”

“I am not . . .grandma. ” Husk’s fangs show when he growls.

Your feathers bristle. It’s smart to keep Husk talking, even if hurling insults is the way to do so. If it keeps him distracted, you won’t complain. “I died in my late twenties . . . or was it my early thirties — I honestly forget.”

The blood on his foot begins to clot, and you toss the towel to the waste basket. You walk to the sink, rinsing stray droplets of Husk’s blood with soap.

“Settle down then, grandma,” he says with a triumphant smile, and you roll your eyes. “Today, it’s your memories. Tomorrow, it could be anything.”

You plop on the clinic chair, waiting for your hands to dry. “Yes, it would make sense you’re familiar with the signs,” you shoot back, “considering you lived long enough to be called Pawpaw — Is that why you’re a cat?”

Husk barks a laugh, his wings flaring. He grabs the pillow and tosses it to you. It hits the side of the chair and langs on your lap. You pick it up and toss it back at him. “At least my husband didn’t walk out on me for several years without so much as a word.”

You chuckle, and settle his foot on your leg for better access. Taking your forceps, you brush away slivers of glass from Husk’s foot . . . or would this be his paw?

You clip a shard of glass, and glance at him. When Husk doesn’t whine like a little bitch, you pull a shard and drop it to the metal pan across you. “At least my marriage lasted even through death, Arachnid Simp.”

Husk rolls his eyes. You smile when his whiskers twitch. “Where did you even learn that word?”

“I see you’re not going to deny it.”

Husk sinks deeper into the bed.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you—I don’t know—wore these things called shoes ?” You pluck another shard of glass. Husk tries to jerk his foot away, but your hold stays firm. “They were invented a long, long, time ago, and were created to keep your feet protected .”

“Stop talking as if I’m a child.” Husk frowns and his teeth stick out. “Wearing them feels weird.”

“I guess they kind of are weird.” You grab a fresh towel when blood squirts out of Husk’s foot. “You die and then suddenly waking up to see you don’t have toes

A beat passes between you. “Do you . . . do you not have toes?”

You toss the towel, and pick out the last shard. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”

“ What does that even mean ?” Husk growls, running his palms over his face.

“I . . . have absolutely no idea.”

You reach into the medical kit, grabbing some dressing. You peel the plastic and toss it to the trash, and press it against his foot.

Egg Boi #03 waddles up to you, a gauze roll in his tiny hands — you weren’t aware the little egg creature was in the room. You thank him with a smile, and wrap the gauze roll around Husk’s paw then his ankle. Satisfied, you clip it in its place.

“You’re all done,” you say. “It might be weird to step on it for a few hours, but it’s not impossible. The glass didn’t puncture you too deep.”

“Good to know.”

“Oh . . . and just in case, the amount of blood you saw isn’t anything to be scared of. There’s just a lot of tiny vessels on the foot. That’s why it took a while for it to stop,” you say and toss him a new set of gauze rolls and pads.

Husk stares at the items. “I don’t know how to use this.”

You stare at him, leaning into the chair. “Just slap the square on the skin and roll the gauze around your foot.”

Husk hops out of the clinic, keeping pressure off his injury.

It takes a while to clean up after yourself, but Egg Boi #03 keeps you company. The little egg speaks a lot of nonsense, but it’s entertaining nonetheless. You flick the lights, and Egg Boi #03 follows behind you.

The chandeliers had been dragged away, and the glass and debris cleared off the carpet.

Mimzy’s hug makes you take a step back.

You squirm in her hold, placing a placating hand on her shoulders.

“I am sooooo glad you are here!” Mimzy exclaims, shaking your shoulders. “This is like one big reunion, ay. Just between you and me, that Lucifer is a real looker—shame on Alastor for not warning a gal. I would have dressed better, and who knows? Maybe I could be the Queen of Hell. Ha! ”

Mimzy grabs your arm and drags you to the bar. Husk pours you a drink with a nod, and stalks away. Seeing him hop up the stairs makes you laugh.

You swirl your drink. “It’s always good to see you, old friend.”

“Not that old!” Mimzy swats your arm, a huge grin on her lips. “And there’s no need to lie to me, darling. I doubt you actually feel that way.”

“Well, I still have those burn marks on my wall from the time you decided to play bartender with matches.”

Mimzy barks a laugh, and her legs kick. “C’mon you can’t still be blaming me! If I remember correctly, it was Alastor who brought out the matches.”

Angel Dust walks up to you with Sir Pentious trailing behind him. You wave.Sir Pentious waves back, his hood flapping open.

“Mind if we join ya?” Angel Dust asks.

“Not at all,” Mimzy says. “I’m always weak to such lookers.”

Angel Dust takes the seat next to you and pushes back his hair. Sir Pentious takes the one behind him. “Sooooo, you two and Alastor run in the same circles.” He takes a drink. “And you guys are friends with him?”

You take a sip of your own drink. “You could describe it that way.”

“Well, those are your words, not mind, but I think it fits.” Mimzy glances at you, a knowing smile on her lips. “But our good doctor here is more than just—Hey! Why do you look so surprised?”

“Well, I just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery,” Angel Dust says. Sir Pentious nods, his head squeaking as he does “What's his deal?”

Mimzy is happy to explain tall, dark, and creepy’s ‘deal’ .

“But before that, he was the prime bachelor of my day,” Mimzy says. “Not a single lady wouldn’t want a taste of that twink. But eh . . . I wouldn’t wish marriage with Alastor on even my worst enemies. It would be a real shock when you die and find out your hubby’s got a real screw loose.”

“Well, it wasn’t a shock to me,” you say, rolling your eyes. You swirl your drink—hmmm, it’s good to know Husk still knows what you like.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Mimzy chuckles nervously. She scoots closer, elbowing you lightly. “You happy he’s back? I still remember the few months you’d visit my place to look for your deerest, most darling Alastor, Mimzy at the bottom of a bottle.”

Your eyes twitch. “Quite pleased actually,” you say and force a smile. “It’s great to finally see my husband again.”

“ Husband? ” Angel Dust chokes on his drink.

Sir Pentious tilts his head and his hat slides off a bit. “Oh you’re married?”

You show them your ring, wiggling your finger. “Indeed.”

Sir Pentious puffs out his chest. “I would love to meet thisss husband of yours,” he says. “If you cannot be my rival, he can fight in your stead.”

“That wouldn’t be a smart idea

Mimzy stares at him. “He’s not the brightest is he?”

Angel Dust drops his drink with a clink. “ Pause ,” he splutters. “Shut u—” He coughs, still reeling from his drink going down the wrong pipe. “Shut up. Plause. Pause!”

Sir Pentious frowns, and his tongue sticks out. “No one elssseee is talking.”

“There is no way,” Angel Dust says. He turns to you, eyes bulging. “I refuse to believe that Freaky got hitched.”

Sir Pentious gapes, and his hoop opens. “Alastor is married as well?”

Mimzy slaps her forehead and points to you. “He’s married to her!”

“You are mess’in with me,” Angel Dust says. “Well, you can’t trick me. I refuse to believe it, toots.”

Mimzy takes a swig of her drink. “No one’s mes’in with ya,” she says with bright eyes. “They had a big white wedding and everything. I even got to bless them with my singing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Mimzy glares at Angel Dust, a hand on her hips and her noise in the air. “You calling me a liar?”

You place a hand on Mimzy’s shoulder. “It was a good day, wasn’t it?” you say.

“Could’ve been better without the rain,” she says shrugging.

The lights flicker. Static fills the air, making your skin buzz. The bar glows a faint green. “The rain made it sentimental actually,” you say and glance up the stairs. “We quite like the rain.”

Angel Dust crosses both sets of arms. “I thought you said you were friends.”

“ I said partners,” you tell him. “Alastor said friends.”

Angel Dust blinks at you and sighs. “So, you married him? Like you’re his wife.”

“I am, indeed!”

“Are you sure?”

“I sure hope so,” you say, crossing your legs. “It would be weird not to be sure considering I was there in a white dress, walking down the aisle.” Mimzy barks a laugh, and the feathers on her head sway. A part of you hopes she topples off the chair.

“Uh . . . Is this something we should know?” Angel Dust asks. “He’s not going to try to kill me because I learned about this right?”

“We’re not trying to hide it, but we don’t broadcast it either,” you say. “And well . . . no wife likes to be introduced as a ‘ friend ’.”

Sir Pentious’ tongue sticks out. “Does Alasssstor own your soul or something?”

You empty your drink and revel in the taste. “We got married back when we were alive.”

Angel Dust reaches across the bar, grabbing a whole bottle off the shelf with his long arms. He pops open the cork and takes a swig straight from the bottom. “I still have trouble belive you,” he says, squinting his eyes. “I just . . . I can’t!”

“Your belief, or lack of, won’t change the fact that I have a ring,” you say. “And it’s not really for you to believe, now is it?”

“Why . . . ?” Angel Dust’s mouth quirks into the cutest frown. “Why . . . ya’know?”

You sigh and place a hand on your cheek with a smile. “He makes me laugh.”

Angel Dust makes a face, and coils back like he’s been shot.

“Oh he’s a total kitten,” Mimzy says with a bright smile. She inches her glass closer to Angel Dust, and he fills it up for her. “Catch him in a good mood or pour him a drink and play some jazz and he’s totally harmless.”

“You still shouldn’t toss caution into the air, Mimzy” you say. “If I were you, I’d be wary about trusting Alastor just because he likes cleaning up your mess.”

Angel Dust crosses his arm, and his eyebrows quirk. “Ain’t he your hubby?” he says. “Isn’t there this whole spiel about trust and love and faith and all that other boring vanilla shit.”

“He wouldn’t be the Radio Demon if he could be trusted by just anyone, now would he?” you say. “It still crosses me when I remember how he lied to me.”

Angel Dust’s eyes shine. “You said no wife likes being introduced as a ‘ friend ’.”

“Yes?”

“It must have crossed you quite a lot, huh?”

You shrug, a bit confused. “I mean . . . I wasn’t really a big deal at the end of the day.”

Angel Dust’s smile widens and that golden tooth of his shimmer. “I want to know everything .”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Despite the rain, clear skies show the moon, not a cloud in sight.

The flashlight clipped on your collar shines on your path. Your boots sink deep into the mud, but that’s alright. A few inches of goo won’t stop you from your destination. You adjust your leather medical bag—double checked that there are gloves inside.

Between those two trees, your treasure lies buried.

You lay your kit on some nearby stones and reach in for your gloves. You dig until bits of the cadaver’s skin stick out. You brush the soil of his chest and peel open the flaps of his skin. The underside of his skin has blood vessels attached to it. It was worth cutting out the fat to have a glimpse.

Superficial fascia connects his muscles to his dermis. You take your probe and disconnect the thin filament. It reminds you of spider-webs.

You discard your probe and exchange it for the bottle of formaldehyde. You can’t study the whole body, not when it’s exposed to the elements. His fingers are starting to rot, but that’s alright. The chest is all you need, for now. So, the chest is all you’ll preserve.

The cheesecloth you placed on him last night is still damp. Good, that means it’s been sanitized this whole time. You take the cheesecloth and wipe it against his open cavity, sanitizing every surface you can reach.

The formalin stings your nose and burns your eyes. It makes you cough, but you push through the pungent chemical.

You peel off the cheesecloth and use it to spread formalin into the deeper crevices between his skin and muscle.

Good. There are no maggots yet. It means you still have time.

You discard your gloves for a fresh pair and prepare your tools. You take your forceps and clip the scalpel blade onto the handle. You lay all your tools on a clean cloth for easy reach.

A human’s adipose tissue buildup is thicker than animals. This man’s fat is soft, easily squishable. Sadly, you’re not here to study his fat.

The scalpel blade is balanced perfectly. Throughout this Earth, no . . . not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

You slice through his adipose tissue, discarding it behind you, carving the cadaver until a nice rectangle opening forms. Muscles are grey, not like the red color printed on textbooks. You run your fingers along the smooth fibers of his pectorals. It’s slimy. That’s probably moisture mixing with the formaldehyde.

You quirk your shoulder to adjust the angle of your flashlight, still running your hand on his pectoral.

There, on the side of the chest where a muscle resembles a fan, do you find what you’re looking for.

Taking your probe, you define the muscle. You don’t use your scapple—never a scapple, because it could slice the fibers. You’ll scrape off the muscles later when it’s time to move on to the systems.

You take a pen and write your notes.

Muscle name: Serratus Ventralis. Description: The Serratus Ventralis appears to be a fan-shaped muscle, just like Hyman writes it to be. Although he’s not describing humans, I think it looks the same. Willd double check to see if such similarities are indeed correct. Just like the book says, I can see the muscle extending anteriorly and posteriorly from the scapula and to the walls of the thorax. The Serratus Ventralis appears to be divisible into anterior and posterior portions, with the anterior originating deeper into the body. (Will cut open if there is still time.) The posterior border seems to be where it originates from, and while it is buried by other muscles, I think it originates from somewhere between the ribs.

Origin, Insertion, Action: Origin: Textbook says it originates from the outer surfaces of the upper eight or nine ribs. (Will double check once I’ve moved on.) Insertion: The muscle fibers appear to move upward to the side. Inserts along the anterior surface of the medial border of the scapula Action: If it indeed is inserted from the scapula, this could mean that it could draw the scapula, forward, backward or against the body.

You flip to the previous page, and cross out Serratus ventralis. You move on to the muscle on your list: Xiphihumeralis. Based on the name, the muscle should pass through the xiphoid process to the sternu—

“Is this what you meant about my trash being your treasure?”

You startle, jumping back until a tree hits you and there’s nowhere else to escape. Run. Run. Run! Your heart screams at you, hammering in your chest. No one is supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be alone. You were careful—not careful enough, apparently.

Alastor emerges from the trees.

He waves at you when your gazes meet, but you don’t wave back. He’s smiling. “Hello,” he greets you with a gentle voice that strikes your core. It would be foolish to mistake his gentleness for kindness. “And yet again, I’m forced to comment on how you have such interesting hobbies.”

You press deeper into the tree, even if a knot digs into your back. “This . . . .” You pause, trying to find your voice. Do you run? “This isn’t a hobby. I’m merely studying.”

Alastor drops a bag on the ground. It looks heavy. “A man?”

“A cadaver,” you say, careful to keep your voice steady. You cannot let this man see any cracks. “They’re already dead, aren’t they? Wouldn’t it be a waste to let them rot like this? At least now, their sorry lives will be making a meaningful contribution.”

The admission of your crime was easy to say. You don’t want to know what that means about you.

Alastor laughs. It’s not that breathy and light laugh he had earlier. This one is lighter, more elated. “Please, tell me more.”

You harden your heart, searching for any speck of bravery. “Why would I?”

Alastor smiles until his teeth show. The moon makes his brown eyes glow—you did not think it would be such an attractive color. “I’m the one holding the large knife.”

You glance at his hand, and oh . . . that indeed is quite a large knife. It’s not even a kitchen knife, but a proper hunting blade meant to kill. “I see you’re resorting to threats,” you say and you don’t know why you do. It’s not really a smart idea. “I did not think you, a man, would feel the need to say such things to a woman.”

“That was barely a threat,” he says. “I’m just curious to know your motivation to dig up trash.”

“I’m studying—that’s my reason.”

Alastor waves the knife as he talks. “Are there no other dead bodies for you to prey on?” he says. “Don’t hospitals have an area specifically to keep the dead?”

“Only morticians or medical students are allowed access,” you say. “I am neither.”

“Why not become one then?”

“Women as doctors are still a relatively new phenomena,” you say. “There is not a single medical school in this area that will allow me to study, nor are there any that won’t bring me into debt.” Your blood boils and it replaces your thumping heart. It still beats in your chest, but it’s not because of fear. “I needed to find a way to learn, to study, and textbooks could only describe it in words. I want to see for myself.”

Alastor plays with the tip of the knife. “Sounds like a classic case of lusting for knowledge.”

“If lust is to be my sin,” you start and a wonky smile appears on your face, “pride would be yours. A classic case of judge, jury and executioner.”

“I do not need to explain myself to you.”

“Well, you are holding the larger knife,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “Anything more you’d like to know?”

Alastor hums at you. “How did you figure it out?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” you say, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. “You should buy suspicious items at different times and places. Your turn—How did you know I was here?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” he echoes laughing like he’s told the funniest joke. “You shouldn’t have told me where you lived so easily. I thought I would have to hang around your clinic for a few days before I got your address.”

“I made sure to be careful.”

“You weren’t in the slightest,” he tells you. “Even an animal is harder to track. It was quite a surprise to see you heading in this direction.”

“Wait . . . ,” you say slowly. “Hang around the clinic? You . . . you were stalking me?”

“I wouldn’t say stalking,” he says, putting his arms up. “And if we’re pointing fingers, you would have had to follow me around for a few days to learn where I buried my trash.”

Your eyes drift to his bag, and then to his knife. Realization hits you like a cruel bus. You face heat. “You!”

“Me?”

“You lied to me!” you say, venom lacing your words as you puff. “You had no business in the area, nor did you randomly spot me! You followed to kill me, didn't you?”

Alastor smiles at you.

“Oh my God!” you scream at him, throwing your arms into the air. You point at him, glaring “You’re still going to kill me?”

“I can’t exactly let you leave, my dear,” he says, rolling his eyes. “What did you think?”

You stare down at him from your nose. “Don’t be so brainless,” you spit, crossing your arms. “If you would use this thing on your head called a, ‘brain’, and use it to think, you would be able to deduce that you’re currently not in cuffs.”

Alastor glares back at you, tightening his grip on the knife. You don’t give a single flying fuck.

“Since you are adamant on not using your brain, I shall do so for you,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “If I wanted to rat you out to the coppers, wouldn’t I have done so already? Hmmmm?”

“Don’t speak to me as if I am a child.”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you aren’t thinking like one,” you say. “Why would I tattle on someone for giving me what I want.”

Alastor gives you a dry smile. “So much sarcasm to the person who does so.”

You cross your arms and lean against the tree. “I suppose I should be thanking you.”

”Will you?”

“No,” you say. “I don’t thank liars.”

You smile to yourself when Alastor rolls his eyes and furrows his brow. That strained smile of his is an extra bonus.

“If you’re going to kill me, be quick with it,” you say. “I’d like to die with my dignity as a lady.”

“How curious,” he says. “You’re not going to try and run? Fight me off in some clever way? Those are always the best kinds of hunts.”

You roll your eyes, making a point to show him that you are doing so. “That would be a waste of our time, wouldn’t it? And I think you’ll forgive me if I am not exactly keen on giving my murderer the satisfaction of experiencing ‘the best kinds of hunt’.”

Alastor laughs, breathy and light this time. He tosses the knife into the trees and puts his arms up as if surrendering. “It seems you have made me change my mind,” he says. “Not many are able to do so—especially not when I’ve settled on a hunt.”

“What an honor then,” you say, smiling dryly.

“Indeed, it is.” He takes a step forward, and when you don’t run, he walks to you and brushes stray dirt off your shoulders.

“Why change your mind?”

He smiles, inching closer to you. That is for me to know,” he says. “But, what I will say is I know potential when I see it.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Someone, please, kill me again!” Angel Dust massages his forehead with one arm, using the other to empty the bottle. His third arm reaches into the bar shelves for a new one. You stare at his arms and wonder just how it got to be so long. “You’ve got to be shiting me right now. That’s your example? That’s your final answer?”

You pick at the wooden table, suddenly finding it hard to meet his eyes “Yes . . . ?”

Angel Dust chugs his bottle at your answer.

Mimzy avoids direct eye contact, choosing to study her empty glass.

Even Sir Pentious keeps his gaze locked to the floor. You bite on your cheek, letting out a soft huff.

If they didn’t want to know, they should not have asked.

“Out of all the misery he’s caused and will be causing,” Angel Dust says, “you think that Freaky ly’in to you about his reason for walking you home was the best possible example.”

“Yes?”

Angel Dust takes a deep breath. “Let’s be clear, okay? I’ll rephrase what I said, so listen closely,” he says. “Alastor lied about – and let me get this right—he lied to you about why he was in the area, and that’s why – hold on, bear with me – and that is why you were angry.”

You cross your arms, huffing a bit. “You make it sound stupid.”

Mimzy sighs, shaking her head with amusement. “That’s because it is, darling.”

“It is not!” you say, pouting. “It’s a very valid reason to be cross.”

Angel Dust takes another swig of his bottle. “It’s the fact that you weren’t angry that he was going to murder you in cold blood for me.”

You throw your arms into the air. “Okay, so it might not have been the best example,” you say, tapping your legs. “But that isn’t exactly my fault. Alastor is strangely honest.”

Angel Dust gapes at you. “No, he is not!”

“I don’t know, hun,” Mimzy says, leaning against the bar table. “Alastor kina is.”

“You won’t get the truth if you don’t ask,” you say, nodding your head. “And when you do ask, Alastor will either say the full horrifying truth, say it in a way that’s vague but still considered to be true, or dodge and not answer your question.”

Sir Pentious tilts his head, and he keeps a hand on his hat to keep it from falling. “And that is why we should not trust him?”

“There is no we , my dear,” you say. “That’s why you shouldn’t trust him.”

The hotel trembles.

You startle in your seat, gripping the table for stability. Mimzy clutches your arm, and you grab hers. It’s a small reassuring gesture that would make you smile at any other moment.

Someone pounds on the door.

You snap your head towards the entrance, nearly giving yourself whiplash. The hinges creak with every bang, and you watch with horror as the wooden frame begins to crack. Whatever wants to go in is determined to do so.

“ MIMZY! We know you’re in there, you lousy bitch!”

You lock eyes with Mimzy, glaring at her with bristled feathers. “Really?”

“Whooops . . . ?” she says with the most innocent smile. You grab your glass and throw it at her head. Mimzy snarls at you, searching for a stray bottle. She never finds it.

Glass rains down to the floor. Dust fills the space, and you cough when it irritates your throat. The whole hotel is in disarray. With a yelp, you jump away from the bar when one of the bone heads detaches and crushes your seat.

Mimzy scurries behind the bar.

A portal rips open in the middle of the room . . . Huh , that’s pretty cool. Vaggie steps out, Lucifer and Charlie behind her. “What is going on?”

Mimzy explains what she did. You roll your eyes when she does.

Fireballs shoot out the broken windows.

Motherfucker! You are going to kill Mimzy. You press against the wall to avoid Sir Pentious’ long tail from smacking into you as he slithers about. Angel Dust scurried away at the first sign of trouble. Of-fucking-course this happens today. Niffty scurries about, cleaning every debris in sight, You grab her by the collar, pulling her away from a stray fire. Niffty squirms out of your hold, and hops away. Another fireball keeps you from pursuing her.

“We’re under siege!” Sir Pentious exclaims, slithering about. “Take cover!”

Alastor pops out of your shadow, jerking your arm to pull you away.

You flap your arms to regain your balance.

Alastor keeps a steady hand on your shoulder, his hold on you firm. His touch keeps you grounded. Your eyes flutter to where you pressed against the wall, but Alastor pokes your cheek with the tips of your fingers, nudging your face to keep your eyes on him. The hotel burns in chaos, and you dig your fingers into the fabric of his coat.

Alastor holds your gaze. He smiles at you softly, but you see the hardness in his eyes and the tension is his jaw.

You try to give him your best smile. “Much better?”

“No, not in the slightest” he says, eyes squinting into a harsh glare. Alastor doesn’t frown, but his teeth bare into a snarl. “Are you hurt?”

The hotel trembles, and more fire crashes through the windows.

You try to turn to the chaos around you, but Alastor leans to the side, blocking the surroundings with his face. “I’d like an answer.”

He smoothes the feathers on your hair, and you lean into his hold, shaking your head. “Not a single feather out of place,” you say. “Thank you, my deerest.”

The hotel trembles once more, but you keep your gaze locked into Alastor’s.

“All of you get a safe distance,” Vaggie says, spear raised.” I’ll take care of this.”

Satisfied, Alastor drops his hand from your head and turns to the door. “No, my dear. Leave it to me.” Radio static warps the air around you. His eyes morph into radio dials. “It’s time I remind everyone why I am here.” He has the smile on his face—that same smile that tell you he’s on the hunt. It makes you buzz.

Mimzy pops her head out. “Ugh, finally!” she says, rolling her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

Tendrils shoot out of Alastor’s back and it waves around the air as if owning a mind of its own. His bones break with audible cracks to adjust to his expanding size. “A reminder to all, not to mess with the radio demon!” His teeth stick out when he smiles, and the little ‘x’ on his forehead appears.

Alastor laughs and begins his kill.

You rush out when your husband crawls out the broken doors, bolting from the bar and out the entrance. You watch Alastor. He grabs a shark with the tips of his fingers and uses the others to pull him apart, slowly, painfully , with a grin.

“Mimzy . . . ” you say, slowly.

Mimzy shrinks next to you. “ . . . Yeah?”

Alastor’s nails elongate and he pierces the shark, letting his blood trail down, reveling in his screams. “I really appreciate everything you do for me.”

A leg sails across the air, it’s bone sticking out. You smile to yourself as Alastor hunts down his prey. Blood paints the flowers red when his tendrils wag like a happy tail.

You’re faintly aware of Lucifer and Charlie arguing behind you.

The show is over too soon.

Alastor shrinks, twirls his microphone and stretches.

Mimzy runs, the first to approach Alastor. You don’t hear a word they’re saying, but Mimzy jabs her fingers into his coat. She leaves with a frown and a middle finger pointed at him.

You walk closer to your husband, a smile on your face. Alastor inches to you, bending close enough for you to reach his bowtie. The fabric is smooth against your fingers as your straighten it for him. “Much better?” you ask.

“Indeed.”

“You put up quite the show,” you tell him. “You looked absolutely riveting, my deer.”

Alastor’s smile widens, and he offers his arm, guiding you back into the hotel. “Did I?”

“You always do, my love.”

And oh . . .

Another song.

Lucifer leaves, taking his singing with him.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

As quietly as possible, you grab your belongings and check that nothing is missing: wallet, flip-phone, bus card, pieces of mint, various essential items, and lastly, your umbrella. You step out of what is left of the Hazbin Hotel’s front doors and stifle a yawn. Today’s excitement has gone on for too long. It was time to go home.

Drops of acid fall from the sky, a light drizzle forming. It was a good idea to stash that umbrella in your bag.

Alastor slithers out of your shadow, and covers your heads with an umbrella. “Did you happen to forget your umbrella?”

You force a sheepish smile on your lips. “I did, actually,” you lie to him. “But a walk seems rather lovely today.”

Alastor twirls the umbrella, his smile widening. “May I join you for your walk?”

“Are you not still working?” You glance behind you, observing the hotel.

Angel Dust sweeps glass off the carpet. He steals glances from time to time, trying his hardest to avoid looking in your direction—it doesn’t try hard enough. Your eyes meet, and you brush your stray feathers from your hair. A not so subtle way of showing off your ring. You stick out your tongue.

Angel Dust laughs, shaking his head with amusement.

Alastor adjusts the umbrella, angling it to block the prying eyes from inside the hotel. He raises his eyebrows, looking at you with a questionable glance.

You offer your most innocent smile. “I think they’re going to need a new door.”

“I think it’s time I clocked out,” he says, inching the umbrella closer. “I shouldn’t have them getting too dependent on me.”

“Are those not grounds for prime picking?”

“I wouldn’t exactly be a doting husband if I left my wife to walk alone in the rain,” Alastor tells you.

“ Doting husband ?”

He nods, leaning closer to you. “Yes. Was that not your condition for our marriage?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Did I say that?”

“You did.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, humming a bit. “I do not remember saying that at all.”

“Well, it wasn’t for you to remember,” he says. “And in any case, I did not call you to the hotel to prepare for some party.”

“Then why did you call me here?”

Alastor meets your eyes and his smile widens. “Allow me to join you, and you shall find out.”

“You’ve piqued my interest, deerest,” you say. “The best walks are usually the ones that are shared. It doesn’t hurt that you have an umbrella.”

“What would you do without me?”

You roll your eyes, and take a step closer. “You always seem to remember for me.”

Alastor fiddles with the umbrella. “What did you do for several years—get pelted by acid?”

“You would know the answer to that had you been present for those years,” you say and you don’t fight the coy smile that forms on your lips.

Alastor hums in displeasure. “Well, in any case, I only have this one umbrella.”

“I guess we’ll have to share.”

“Yes, it seems we will.”

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his. He doesn’t need to take precautions to ensure your clothes stay dry nor do you have to for his own attire, not when you press closely against each other. The umbrella covers the both of you just right.

You rest your head on his arm. It’s nice. Warm. Even if it was as thick as a stick. His bones press into your cheek. Your eyes flutter into a close . . . just . . . one . . . second . . .

Your knees buckle causing you to trip.

A frim grab of your waist keeps you from the ground. Your nose crinkles when you collide with Alastor’s chest. Finding strength in your legs, you dig your foot into the ground and stand.

Alastor keeps his hold on your waist steady, and you don’t move from his hold.

“Before you say anything—you are not fine,” he says. “I don’t want to hear anything else but an agreement.”

You peel your face from his chest, meeting his eyes to give him the brightest smile you can muster. It doesn’t come out as you hope. “It seems . . . It seems it will be my turn to postpone our outing today,” you say. “The excitement of the day seems to be catching up to me.”

You fell asleep while walking,” he says. “If it was not for me, you would be on the pavement.”

“Then it is a good thing I am no longer alone.”

A single tendril emerges from his back. It wraps around the umbrella’s handle, keeping it secured over your heads.

Alastor’s hand shifts from your waist to your back. You feel his other arm snaking down your legs, trailing your skin until he reaches the back of your knees.

Alastor lifts you like a bride.

Well, you actually are a bride . . . his bride, specifically.

Alastor continues the walk, holding you in his arms. You lean into him, and he places a chin on your head. “Your pointy chin is poking me, my deerest,” you say but you don’t move to push him off. “It’s digging into my scalp.

His chest rise and fall as he laughs, and you feel every bit of it against your cheek. “I could always drop you right over this puddle.”

“That wouldn’t really be part of the doting husband image, would it?” you say chuckling into his suit.

“No, I guess it would not.”

Smiling to yourself, you nuzzle deeper into the crook of his neck. “Hey, Al,” you mumble softly, “tell me a story.”

At the corner of your eyes, you see Alastor glance at you. His gaze lasts a second before he turns back ahead. “It was 1929,” he says. “The beginning of the glorious Great Depression.”

You roll your eyes even if he doesn’t see it. “You are the only one I know who calls the Great Depression ‘ glorious’ . People were starving, and we almost got fired from our jobs.”

“That’s because it was a great year.”

“Because you got to see the sufferings of the masses?” You laugh softly. “That’s definitely something you would do. I can practically hear you laughing at the way they try to claw their way out of misery, only to fail spectacularly.”

“Because we got married that year,” he says. Even if you’re wearing a coat, and Alastor wears his gloves. Even with layers of cloth between your skin, you still feel the way Alastor caress your with his thumb. “Can I continue my story now or would you like to bicker about your failing memory?”

“Continue.”

“So, the start of the glorious Great Depression,” he says. “That day, I saw an ad for the local zoo. I wasn’t doing anything important, so I decided to support my local animals.”

“How kind of you,” you say, stifling a yawn.

“Indeed it was,” he says. “I stalk through the animals. Looking at every malnourished species they kept locked up—”

“You get to the alligator enclosure and to this day, swear that you saw it do a backflip,” you mumble softly, eyes dropping. “That’s pretty good for someone you claim to possess failing memories.”

“Alright then. I shall find another.” Alastor hums as he thinks, and his chest vibrates as he does. “Summer of 1916–long before I met you.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you say, huffing. “I’m well aware of the year we met, my deer. So, Summer of 1916?”

“It was a dark and stormy night. Weird for the summer seasons. Usually, the house becomes a furnace, but it was terribly cold,” Alastor tells you. “During that second night of the hurricane, a knock sounds from the door.”

“Oh . . . I’ve heard this as well.” You pick on the lapels of Alastor’s coat, tracing the white lines.

“You have?” Alastor raises his eyebrows

“Yes, it was your neighbor. His tree fell into the window and you and your mother ended up sheltering him for the night,” you say. “Then, you’ll tell me that he gifted you three pounts of cheese the next week.”

“I guess there’s nothing left to tell.”

You lean back to meet his eyes. They’re no longer brown. Once, a long time ago, you thought it was your favorite color. Now, you don’t think you’ve ever had a favorite color. You just liked his color. “Nonsense,” you says. “We are definitely not that old. I’m sure there should be be at least a few.”

“Alright, this one began fifteen years ago,” he says, tightening his grip on you. “I was waiting outside St. An’s, and a Sinner came out. It was my first time seeing a cow. It was quite a conundrum because — Oh, I think you’ve heard this already. Have you?”

Your eyelids are heavy. “I have.”

“And you choose not to inform me?”

“Can you tell it to me again?” You sink deeper into his hold.

“Of course, my love.”

Alastor’s steps lag until he comes to a full stop. He holds you in his gaze as the acid rain splatters grow stronger. It’s just you and him in this tiny bubble of an umbrella.

His eyes flicker, touching every inch of this scene. You do not know what he is thinking.

“Are you alright, my love?” you find yourself asking.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m just . . . trying not to waste, that’s all.”

“Come on,” you say in a voice that is oh so soft.

Alastor continues his story. You don’t hear the end of it.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Next Part: | Part 4: The Radio Stars' Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes| I am excited to know what you guys think about this chapter. My replies and inbox are always open for any questions. I always get so happy to see my notifications. It's a bit addicting actually. Thank you to everyone who has interacted with this story. Every like, reblog, and reply means so much to me. Part 4 will be poasted as soon as possible

351 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 6 months ago

Text

Call a Truce

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: You and Tim have a rivalry that began when you were rookies. Years later, you continue competing in everything you do, even when you're helping Tim get out of a dangerous situation.

Warnings: Tim gets hurt (tased, cut, broken ribs, goes to the hospital), angst, mentions of robberies, fluff! pretty standard Rookie warnings I think

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“You’re going to pass your rookie exam,” your TO said on your second day of training. “But there’s one thing I need you to do. Score higher than Bradford.”

And, like that, a rivalry was born.

Years after you started competing against Tim Bradford to be the best rookie, your rivalry has only strengthened. Everyone in your station knows about your competitive natures, but to outsiders and visitors, it seems like you and Tim hate one another. There has never been any real animosity, only competition and everything that comes with it.

“We’re riding together today,” Tim says.

You turn quickly, surprised to see him standing beside you. “What?” you ask.

“I just talked to Grey. We’re riding together, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Something to do with the string of robberies, I presume.”

“And he thought you would need help from a competent cop,” you reply with a nod. “I guess I can make time for that.”

“If that’s what you need to hear to actually try for once. I could find the guy on my own faster than you can get out of the shop.”

“We’ll see about that,” you scoff.

“We certainly will. The first one to spot anything gets a point, making contact gets five, and the arresting officer gets fifty. Deal?”

You look at Tim’s hand and wrinkle your nose in faux disgust before you shake. “You’re going down, Bradford.”

“And you’ll break the fall, boot.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Bradford!” Grey yells. “Let’s go! Roll call doesn’t wait for you.”

You smirk as you step backward toward the door. “Such a bad cop, Bradford. Keep your social schedule on your own time.”

“You wish you were part of my social schedule,” he counters.

“At least you’d have one then. When I have fifty-six winning points, maybe I’ll invite you to the celebration.”

Tim rolls his eyes and follows you inside. He can’t remember the last time he did anything with you that wasn’t a competition. You’re both good cops, though, so as long as you get the job done, your work rivalry isn’t hurting anyone.

“What’s it like?” you ask from the passenger seat.

“What’s what like?” Tim replies.

“Being a control freak that still loses.”

“Cute,” Tim mumbles. “At least I didn’t have to wear long sleeves for an extra month like someone I know.”

“Yeah, Lucy didn’t deserve that,” you agree. “You’re just a terrible TO, so you knew she wasn’t ready.”

“Or maybe she picked the wrong cop to idolize,” Tim snaps.

“Tim? Did you just admit that Lucy thinks I’m a better cop than you?” you ask happily. “Because I knew she had good taste, but I wasn’t sure if you knew that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for a suspect instead of obsessing over how people see you?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be driving instead of getting angry because I’m right?”

Tim takes a deep breath and returns his attention to the road. You push his buttons, but he pushes you just as hard. Everything between you is competitive, there’s a deep-seated need to prove that you’re better because of how your TOs treated you in your boot days.

Your phone rings, and you wave Tim off before he can tell you not to answer it.

“Detective Lopez,” you greet, though you say it toward Tim. “How can I help you?”

“Can you come back to the station or are you too busy flirting- I mean competing with Tim?” she asks.

“I can come back. Tim?” you begin.

“Got it,” he interjects softly. He hits his blinker and enters a turn lane to take you back.

“I’ll be there in ten,” you tell Angela.

“Thank you. We got a lead on where the stolen goods may be stashed but we’re shorthanded.”

“No problem.”

Angela ends the call, and you look at the road as you think about the details of the case. Something isn’t adding up. They know plenty about the suspect, but not where he lives or where all of the stolen property ended up. The guy seems homeless.

“Guess she figured out that you’re not going to find anything out here that I can’t find alone,” Tim muses.

“Or she knows that I’ve got a better chance of blowing this case open if you’re not aimlessly dragging me around the city.”

“What’d she say?” Tim asks.

“They found a lead and don’t have enough people to trace it. You can ride alone, as far as they know, so I get to track down tips.”

“I’ll find our guy before you find anything helpful,” Tim declares.

“Yeah, right!” you argue, turning in your seat to face him. “First one to find something that the detectives deem useful wins.”

“Wins what?”

You purse your lips as you think. There are not many rewards left that you and Tim haven’t already competed for. Maybe it shouldn’t be a material item, you think.

“The loser admits, in roll call tomorrow, that the winner is a better cop,” you suggest.

“It would be fun to hear you say that,” Tim says quietly. “Deal.”

He extends his right hand over the console, and you shake it firmly before sitting back in your seat. When he arrives back at the station, you exit the shop and salute him sarcastically before you walk inside. You begin to worry very quickly that the lead Angela called you back for may not be anything. No matter what, you have to beat Tim because you can’t lose.

“Control, this is Bradford, can you get me information on who owns 1219 Larga Avenue?” Tim radios.

“1219 Larga Avenue is leased by Corporeal Corporations,” control answers.

“A shell corporation,” Tim says to himself.

He’s been following a vehicle matching one listed on the case report. It isn’t the suspect’s vehicle, but one of his acquaintances’. Tim parks down the street and watches the house from his side mirror for several minutes. Whoever was driving the car seems to be staying for a while.

“Control, this is Bradford. I’m approaching the house, code 6-Charles.”

“Assistance on standby.”

Tim opens his door and then hesitates. In his uniform, he has no chance of getting close to anyone in that house. He could approach the house next door to gather intel about how many people are inside, but that could spook them and get innocent people hurt. The third option, one he will never admit to learning from you, is to play the part of a stupid cop at the wrong house.

“Officer!” a woman yells across the street.

Tim gestures for her to quiet before he closes his door and walks across the street. “How can I help you, ma’am?” he asks.

“There was this car that kept driving up and down the road yesterday! It was a young boy and an older man, and they would just drive down, turn around, and come back. I live here, my children play here, and if this is going to become a cesspool of gang people, someone needs to do something!” she explains.

“Ma’am, it sounds to me like a man may have just been teaching his son how to drive on a residential street, which is neither illegal nor gang-related. If you see them again, call the non-emergency line and someone will come make sure everything is alright.”

Tim has dealt with his fair share of stupid complaints, but he can’t even be bothered by this one. Not when something malicious may be taking place four houses away. The woman huffs as she turns to go back to her home. Just as she turns off the sidewalk, someone shoots.

Tim dives behind a nearby car and braces himself against the back bumper. Based on the spray of bullets destroying the car, Tim guesses it’s numerous semi-automatic rifles that he’s up against.

“Dispatch, I need that backup! I’m taking heavy fire,” he radios.

A moment later, dispatch calls, “Code 99” with his location. Tim curses; he doesn’t need every cop in the county coming to his rescue, just one or two. The bullets slow, and Tim moves carefully to the edge of the vehicle. Three men stand in the yard, and he aims his gun at the one closest to him. While he’s replacing the magazine into the gun, Tim shoots his leg, and he falls to the ground. The others open fire again, and Tim spins to be out of sight again.

A heavy hand lands on Tim’s shoulder, and before he can react, a knife is pressed to his throat. Everything goes silent as he’s lifted to his feet and shoved toward the sidewalk. The men have taken their injured partner inside, and Tim knows that once he’s in that house, he is as good as dead.

“Look, man, I just came to answer another call. Let me go and nothing happens,” he tells the man pushing him.

“You already called for backup.”

“And they’ll go to the other house, see a shot-up car. The most you have to do is answer the door and say ‘No, officer, I didn’t see a thing.’”

“You won’t see a thing if you don’t shut up,” the man growls as they near the door.

Tim stands up straighter, and when the knife falls toward his chest rather than his neck, he kicks backward and into the man’s knee. The knife scrapes across Tim’s uniform, but he doesn’t feel it as he turns to face the door and grabs his gun. His hand reaches the holster, but it’s empty. Tim looks around and realizes that his gun must be behind the car. He retrieves the knife from the ground and prepares to run for the car, but two prongs from a taser enter his chest before he can, and he collapses beside his fourth assailant. Sirens echo in the distance as Tim fights to stay conscious. The man on the porch squeezes the trigger again, and Tim only feels the first twitch of his legs before everything stops.

“LAPD, open up!” you yell.

You are moments away from punching the door when it swings open. Immediately, you recognize the long-haired man as your robbery suspect. The chances of him being alone are slim, though, so you can’t think about Tim right now, only about getting this man in custody without getting hurt or killed.

“How can I help, officer?” he asks, leaning against the door to block your view inside.

“I just have a question about the car parked down the street,” you explain with a friendly smile.

“All of my cars are here in my driveway. Maybe ask someone else.”

“So, you don’t know who owns the grey sedan with all the bullet holes and a dead body in the back?” you ask, raising your brows.

“Dead body,” he repeats. He looks past you like he’s trying to figure out how that got there.

“The owner?” you press.

“Oh, sure, uh Miguel, I think is his name. Big guy down the street.”

“Thank you so much for your help. Could I just get your name for my report?” you ask.

“Cody Lambert,” he answers, still looking past you.

You’re surprised that he gives you his real name. Your lie about the body in his car jarred him more than you expected.

“And are you here alone today?” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He shifts slightly, and you can see an empty living room behind him. You have an opportunity, but if you take it and you’re wrong, you may be putting Tim’s life on the line.

“Could you point out which house Miguel lives in? I’m terrible with numbers and directions.” You laugh at yourself to sell your dumb act and pray that it works.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, stepping out onto the porch.

He closes the door behind him, and you waste no time pushing him down onto the ground. You keep his face turned toward the dirt so he can’t yell as you secure the handcuffs.

“You’re under arrest,” you say in his ear. “And if you yell when I pick you up, I can’t promise anything. If you stay quiet, though, I’ll get you the best pro bono attorney in the state. Understood?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your offer, so you drive your knee between his kidneys and repeat, “Understood?”

He groans against the ground before a muffled, “Yes,” reaches your ears. You pull him up and walk him to your shop where it’s parked in front of the next house. As you reach for the radio to alert dispatch, a gun is fired inside the house.

“Too late,” your suspect says as you turn to look.

You abandon the radio on the floorboard of the passenger seat and slam the door. As you return to the front door and kick it in, you keep your gun ready. There isn’t time to waste in a situation like this, and Tim is counting on you. If he’s still here and still alive, that is.

When you reach a closed door at the end of the hallway after clearing the other rooms, you raise your gun before you and kick the door open. It hits the wall with a thud as you step over the threshold. One of Cody’s known acquaintances blocks your path, with a puddle of blood beneath him. You look past him to clear the room, but see what you’re looking for before you finish.

“Tim,” you say when you see him stretched out on a broken twin-sized bed.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbles. “And I won.”

You lean over him as you holster your weapon. He is injured and needs assistance, but his radio is smashed and yours is in the shop.

“Are there more of them?” you ask.

“There’s four.”

Tim hasn’t opened his eyes yet, which concerns you. More concerning, however, is the knowledge that there are two more people around this house. You cleared it, but they could be waiting in the attic or just outside.

“I’ll go call for help,” you tell Tim. “Stay alert.”

As you turn, heavy footsteps rattle the walls of the hallway. You look back to Tim and know you can’t leave him here. Even if you do argue, compete, and tease each other, you’re both cops and you have to protect one another. Plus, you care about him, and it hurts you to see him like this. Carefully, you push the door closed and lock it. There’s nothing in the room to block it with… except for the suspect on the floor.

“Did you shoot him?” you whisper. “How?”

“His gun,” Tim mumbles.

You tilt your head quickly, surprised and impressed, though you know Tim has more training in this kind of thing than the average cop. The guy is heavy, literally dead weight, but you roll him against the door as an extra cover before you sidestep the blood puddle and return to Tim’s side.

“Where are you hurt?” you whisper as you kneel beside him.

Tim hums, and you know he’s fading fast. You murmur an apology before you begin unbuttoning his uniform. When you begin to pull it open, you notice two taser prongs buried in his pec muscles. You pull them out quickly and squeeze your eyes closed when Tim grunts.

With his shirt open, you can see a several bloody spots, a scrape against his chest, and swelling on his right side. Gently laying a hand over his t-shirt, you know that his ribs are broken.

“I need to look, Tim,” you say as you grab the bottom of his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

You pull his shirt up carefully and inhale sharply when you see the bruises littering his torso and chest. The swelling looks worse without fabric over it.

“Can you breathe well?” you ask.

Tim shakes his head, a small movement that you feel more than see. There’s a chance that his broken rib has punctured a lung, and he needs medical attention now.

“Thank you,” Tim says. His eyes are still closed, but you watch his face as he says it.

A few moments later, Tim moves his left hand to catch yours as you look at the scrape spanning his chest. He squeezes your wrist softly and your eyes raise to his.

Tim blinks his eyes open and waits until he finds your face to ask, “Why are you helping me?”

“Tim,” you begin. “Why wouldn’t I? You can’t tell me that you think I hate you because of our rivalry. That’s all it has ever been, competition.”

Tim nods as his eyes close again. “I thought you’d be a better cop than me,” he mumbles. “But I got a promotion first.”

You chuckle, trying to ignore the pressure behind your eyes as you watch him lose the battle to stay conscious. In this moment, you feel something that you’ve never experienced before. All the teasing, and the competition to stay close to Tim, were different than this. The care you show him now helps you to see him differently.

Similarly, though his thoughts are jumbled in a mix of pain and adrenaline, Tim sees you as he never has before. Your soft touches, apologies, and clear care and concern for him awaken something in him. Maybe it’s been sleeping or maybe it wasn’t there before today, but Tim likes having you close like this.

“Promise me something,” you whisper. “When we get out of this, we’ll know that we both won.”

Tim nods, and you carefully remove your hand from his. With your gun, plus the one Tim used to kill Cody’s goon, you climb out of the window to get Tim help and the first aid kit from your shop. He knows you’re a good cop, but without you by his side, he can’t take the pain and the worry together, and he finally succumbs to the darkness again.

“I feel fine!” Tim argues with the nurse. “I can go home. There’s no reason to keep me here.”

“The doctors want to observe you overnight to ensure there’s no long-term damage, Officer Bradford,” she replies. “If you stop complaining, it will go faster.”

You knock on the open door with a bag in your hand, and the nurse waves you inside before she leaves. Tim looks at you from his hospital bed, and you offer a small smile. In the minutes after you left Tim in the house, you called for backup, searched the house again, put another suspect in custody, and got into a one-on-one fight with the last one. Tim doesn’t know just how much you went through in those five minutes that you waited for more backup, and he doesn’t need to. All that matters is that he’s safe and is getting better.

“How are you?” you ask.

“Fine,” he answers, watching the bag in your hand.

“Yeah, it’s for you.”

You pass him the bag with his favorite food, a play-by-play of last night’s game, and a picture of Kojo from the dogsitter. As he looks through it, you decide to tell him what you stayed awake thinking about. You finished filing your report as the sun rose over LA, and then you spent the few hours before you could visit Tim thinking of only one thing.

“I think we should call a truce,” you suggest. “A lot has changed in the last twenty-four hours.”

“I don’t want a truce,” Tim answers quickly. “We push each other to be better. We need that.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Then what do we do? Because I can’t go back to just competing all the time, not after what happened.”

“What happened?”

“If you didn’t feel it, I can’t explain it to you, Tim,” you answer softly, wringing your fingers together.

“You want to be more than competitive friends?” Tim guesses.

You shrug, and he shakes his head.

“I won’t stop competing with you or-“

“Taking figurative shots at me?” you finish playfully. “Better than real shots. I’m fine with not changing that part of our relationship, Tim. Besides, you and I both know that our friends are nosy, and it would be awful if we just started being nice to each other.”

Tim nods, and after a moment, looks at you. He extends his hand toward you, and you happily take it.

“Would you like to go to dinner after I get out of here?” he asks.

“I’d love that. I’m also planning to pass you during the next promotion. Then you can call me Sergeant when you try to tell me you’re better than me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tim responds. “But I get to pick where we go since I did win the last competition.”

“I saved your life!”

“But I found our guy.”

“Maybe we both won,” you remind him.

A few weeks later, you kept your promise and now outrank Tim. Not for long, you assume, because he’s a great cop with a bright future, but for now it’s fun to remind him that you’re a Sergeant while he’s still an Officer. “Whoever makes the first arrest today gets to pick where we go on our date Saturday,” you say.

“Whatever you want, Sergeant,” Tim answers.

He tilts your chin gently before he kisses you. You sigh in contentment, happier than ever with Tim. When he releases you, you both climb out of his truck and walk toward the station.

“When I get a position on Metro, I get to say it first,” Tim says as he opens the door for you.

“That’s not fair!” you argue, blocking the doorway.

“If you’re scared that it’ll happen too soon, just say so,” Tim taunts.

“Fine,” you agree, offering your hand to shake.

He shakes your hand, then pulls you into a quick kiss.

“Have a nice day, Sergeant,” he calls as he walks away.

“You too, boot.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

241 notes · View notes

thegatesofsilverandbone · 1 month ago

Text

Dylan followed his dad into the small hardware store, the familiar jingle of the bell sounding as they entered. It was quiet, with only the hum of the fluorescent lights above. They were just grabbing a few things for their weekend project—a new fence for the backyard—and Dylan was already zoning out as his dad grabbed a cart and started picking out supplies.

After wandering through the aisles for a bit, they headed to the checkout counter. But when they got there, it was empty. No cashier, no employees in sight.

"Guess they’re short-staffed today," his dad muttered, tapping the bell on the counter.

No one appeared.

"I’ll check the back," his dad said, glancing toward the storage area. "Stay here and see if anyone shows up."

Dylan nodded, leaning against the counter as his dad disappeared into the depths of the store. He glanced around, waiting. Still, no sign of anyone. The place felt almost abandoned.

As he stood there, a woman walked up, holding a couple of screws in her hand. “Hey, do you know where the wood filler is?”

Dylan was about to tell her he didn’t work there, but instead, the words that came out were, “Aisle four, just past the paint supplies, near the caulk guns.”

The woman smiled, giving him a quick “thanks!” before heading off.

Dylan blinked. How had he known that?

Before he could think too much about it, an older man approached, holding a small toolbox. “Excuse me, son, what’s the best way to fix a squeaky hinge?”

Again, Dylan felt an answer bubbling up from somewhere inside him. “Graphite powder, or silicone spray if you don’t want to make a mess. Both are in aisle seven, just past the hand tools.”

The man smiled and nodded appreciatively. “I’ll try that, thanks!”

As the man walked away, Dylan suddenly felt strange. His clothes felt tighter, his shirt straining across a broader chest. He looked down and noticed his arms were thicker, more muscular, and dusted with hair. His reflection in the glass door of a nearby display case showed his face aging, his jaw squaring off, a shadow of stubble forming on his chin. He looked at least five years older.

Before he could process what was happening, a couple approached, holding a paint roller. “Any idea what kind of paint works best for the bathroom? We’re trying to avoid mildew.”

Without missing a beat, Dylan replied, “Go for a mildew-resistant paint. Satin or semi-gloss finishes are best. You’ll find what you need in aisle two, with the specialty paints.”

As they thanked him and walked away, Dylan felt the transformation deepen. His body grew bulkier, his shirt straining even more as muscles filled out his frame. Tattoos crawled up his arms—intricate designs he suddenly remembered getting over the years. His beard was now fully grown in, thick and neatly groomed. His scalp tingled as his hairline receded further, leaving him mostly bald.

Memories that didn’t belong to him started to flood his mind—long hours spent working in this very store, not just as a worker, but as the owner. He could see himself stocking shelves, advising customers, learning every detail about hardware and home repairs. He remembered years of pride in running this place, but those weren’t his only memories.

He remembered Tom. The warmth of his husband’s laugh, the way they’d worked side by side to turn this store into something successful. The quiet nights at home after long days at the shop, the two of them curled up together, talking about everything and nothing.

Dylan—no, he wasn’t Dylan anymore. He was Ben, and this hardware store was his life. He owned it, ran it, loved it. And he shared it with Tom.

When his dad finally returned from the back of the store, he wasn’t Dylan’s dad anymore. The man walking up to the counter was now just another customer—one Ben vaguely recognized as a regular. They’d probably chatted a few times over the years, but there was no deeper connection between them. His father was gone, replaced by this new reality.

“Hey, thanks for waiting,” the man said with a grin. “Looks like I found what I needed after all.”

Ben nodded. “Glad to hear it. Anything else I can help you with?”

The man shook his head and walked toward the door. As Ben turned back to the register, the world around him felt settled, solidified. This was his life now. The store was bustling again, customers browsing the aisles, and Ben had a mental map of everything in stock, every aisle, every brand. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

A familiar voice broke his thoughts, and he looked up to see Tom walking toward him, wiping his hands on a rag. “You holding down the fort while I fix that shelf in the back?”

Ben smiled, his heart warming at the sight of his husband. “Yeah, you know it.”

Tom grinned and leaned in for a quick kiss before heading back to work. Ben’s heart swelled with contentment. This was where he belonged—running the store with the man he loved.

And as he glanced around at the customers he’d helped today, he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

#transformation #ai art

83 notes · View notes

lulunothulu · 3 months ago

Text

“A Bullseye to the Heart” (Ch. 3)

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Latin Reader

Blurb: Jake is determined to find out what happened to you but as soon as he pulls your file up, everything is redacted. He turns to Rooster and Bob of all people to find out more. You get back to your apartment and find that your ex has trashed the place. one thing leads to another and you find yourself agreeing to live with Hangman until it's safe to go back home.

Contents: nothing too bad, some swearing, kinda fluff,

Word count: 2,096

Previously: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Jake is in the middle of taking a sip of his beer and laughing with Rooster and the rest of the guys when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He knew it had to be one of the four women he occasionally hit up at this time for late-night sex. Now, which one was this? He twists around to see your pretty smile looking up at him.

“Y/N?” He asks over the loud music and chatter of Hard Deck.

“What? Is this such a surprise?” You ask sweetly. Before he can answer, your arms are wrapped around him and you’re kissing him passionately.

Bolting upright in bed, Jake looks at the clock on his nightstand.

8:15 AM.

“What the fuck?” He mutters to himself. What a way to wake up. When he lays back down, he feels someone place their arm on his chest. He turns to his left to see a busty blonde fast asleep beside him.

I don’t even remember bringing her home. What was her name?

He sighs before getting out of bed and walking into his bathroom. He looks in the mirror to see red lipstick marks all over his neck and chest leading down to his dick.

Must’ve been a wild Friday night.

He sighs and turns on the shower to wash everything off. A good thirty minutes into scrubbing his body, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist.

“Jake?” He hears what’s-her-name call.

“Hey,” he says, opening the door to his bathroom a bit. “Go back to sleep, I’m just going for a run.”

“After you showered?” She asks.

“Had to wash off the lipstick,” Jake shrugs. “Anyway, stay… or don’t. Your choice.”

“I think I’ll leave,” she says, getting out of bed and walking toward the pile of clothes in the corner.

“Okay, see you around…” Jake trails off.

“Bethany.”

“Right, Bethany.”

Jake doesn’t wait for her to say more. He walks to his closet and grabs some shorts and a t-shirt, pulling them on, and then saluting her playfully when he walks out of the room.

When she leaves, Jake grabs his phone and searches for Phoenix’s text message.

Jake: How’s Y/N?

Phoenix: She’s fine.

Jake: That’s all I get?

Phoenix: Why do you want to know?

That’s a good question, why did he want to know? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything. He had no right to ask how you’re doing. But, he did help you in some way.

Jake: Just asking. Being chivalrous, I guess.

Phoenix: Hmm.

Jake closes out the messages app and sighs to himself. Still thinking about you, he decides to go to the Top Gun archives and do some research. Rooster told him something happened to you while you were missing, but he only half believed him. No reason to fully trust a dude with the call sign “Rooster”.

Even if he was his friend.

Walking into the archives, Jake goes straight to the section from between two to three years back, searching for your call sign. An hour into looking into the file boxes, he finally finds the document he needs. He pulls out the file and opens it, giddiness flaring through his body when he sees your non-smiling picture of your profile.

Scanning it, Jake reads:

Name: Y/L/N, Y/N

Call sign: Bullseye

Mission Location: [REDACTED]

Mission Purpose: Bullseye is to [REDACTED] at [REDACTED].

Now what the actual fuck?

Reading down the page, everything is blacked out, except your name and call sign. When he reaches the “outcome” portion of the file, it’s all blacked out. What surprises him is the fact that it’s five pages long and again, all blacked out except your name and call sign. When he reaches “Status”, it says “Honorably Discharged/Full Sponsorship”.

Pulling his phone out, Jake calls Bradley and nearly snorts when Bradley answers, “Yello?”

“Hey I have a question,” he starts.

“Okay?”

“It’s about Y/N.”

“Oh.”

Taking a deep breath, Jake asks, “What happened after she was found?”

“Um,” Rooster hesitates. “She was found bloodied and bruised and then they brought her to the hospital on post.”

“How long before she was declared 100% for discharge? From the Navy I mean,” Jake asks, putting your file on the table before him and pulling out an empty sheet of paper to take notes.

“I think about two months?” Bradley tells him. “It was really weird because, at lest from what she’s told me, they still pay her.”

“Yeah, the VA pays her.”

“No, I mean, the Navy still pays her. Like she’s still in.”

Jake stops writing and blinks. “What do you mean?”

“She told me a few months ago that they were still paying her damages or something like that. I guess it has to do with whatever happened while she was missing,” Bradley tells him. “We really shouldn’t be talking about this on the phone. Go to Hard Deck tonight, we’ll talk more then.”

“Thanks, Bradley.”

“Did you just thank me?” Bradley snorts.

“Fuck off.” Jake chuckles.

When they hang up, Jake is left to wonder: Why are you still getting paid by the Navy? Did it have to do with whatver it was that happened while you were missing? And if so, what the actual fuck happened to make the Navy pay you off?

Later that night, Jake is sitting in a booth in the back of Hard Deck sipping on a beer and waiting for Rooster to show up. Jake is in the middle of reading something on his phone when Rooster finally sits across from him, Bob in tow.

“Sorry, Bob here found out where I was going and… I think you might want to hear what he knows,” Rooster says.

Jake looks at Bob, expanctantly.

“So you already know that Y/N’s been getting paid by the Navy,” Bob starts. When Jake nods, he adds, “Well, this is a ‘pay-off’ situation. I’m talking, they want to keep her silent about what happened.”

“Why?” Jake asks.

Bob glances at Rooster, who nods in encouragement. “They knew her jet was gonna go down.”

* * *

You knew Nick was an asshole, but you didn’t think he’d stupid enough to trash your apartment. Especially with the multiple cameras you had installed after the first time he hit you.

You had just gotten to your apartment with Phoenix and as soon as you opened the door, you knew it was going to be a long evening. Furniture was toppled over in your living room, couch cushions were ripped open (probably with a knife), and dishes were broken all over your floor.

“Oh my god,” Phoenix says from behind you. “What a fucking child.”

You only looked around in sadness. It took you months to find all of the things in your house because most of the things were vintage or second hand. You suck in a breath and rush to your room and into your closet to find the book of things from your parents. You didn’t even need to look deep enough because there it was, laying on the carpeted closet floor.

Everything was ruined.

Your parents had passed away six years ago and left you with a box of pictures from your youth as well as other family heirlooms. One of which was your mother’s engagement ring.

Quicklky falling to your knees, you begin to comb through the contents of the box, all soaked from the water Nick split inside it.

“Please be in here. Please,” you whisper to yourself.

“Y/N?” Phoenix questions.

The ring was gone.

Anger rings in your ears, slivering down your spine and making you shake. How could he do this? What a fucking dickhead.

“He fucking stole my Mom’s ring,” you angrily tell Phoneix when she enters your room.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“Tomorrow I have to go to the pawn shops and look for it. Maybe he was stupid enough to do that,” you say to yourself. Then to her, “I cannot believe he would do that. What kind of a person steals someone’s dead Mom’s ring?”

“Someone who’s so insecure that they have to hurt vulnerable people,” she tells you. “Let’s call Bradshaw, he’ll help us clear some of this stuff out.”

When Rooster arrives, he has Bob and Jake with him. As they walk into your apartment, anger flickers on their faces. You see Jake mutter something tp the effect of “I’ll fucking kill him” and shake his head. You have to fight not to let your heart melt a bit. Why does that make your heart warm?

“Y/n, you should stay somewhere else for a bit,” Bob tells you. “What if he tries to come back tonight?

“You can stay with me,” Jake says making everyone turn to him.

“Why the fuck would she stay with you?” Phoenix asks, crossing her arms.

“Because I can protect her. And he won’t know where she is, assuming he didn’t follow you home last night,” he says.

“I can protect her too, you know.”

“Phoenix, I know you’re strong, but that guy was a whole head taller than you. Besides, it’ll allow me to get to know Y/N.” He winks in your direction and you instinctively want to smile but force it down.

“This is ridiculous,” Phoenix says. “She should be with someone she’s comfortable with and who she knows. She doesn’t know you at all.”

“Again, it’ll allow me to get to know her.”

“You’re quiet,” Bob says, nudging you a bit.

“Maybe I should go with Bagman here,” You start. When they give you looks of surprise, you add, “Nick followed us home last night. I saw his car in the bushes behind your house last night after you went to bed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nat asks you.

“I didn’t want you to worry. I was gonna tell you tonight if he was there again.” You turn to Jake who’s watching you like a hawk. “I’ll go with you, under one condition.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.”

Jake smiles before winking at you and replying, “I have a spare bedroom you can stay in.”

“So it’s settled, Y/N stays with Seresin until we get her apartment safe and cleaned,” Rooster announces.

“I guess,” Nat says, arms crossing over her chest.

“Go pack a bag and we’ll start cleaning some of this up,” Rooster tells you.

You obey, glad that Nick wasn’t smart enough to mess with your clothes. You grab a large duffel bag and start stuffing as much clothes as you can fit into it, walking into your bathroom and packing your toiletries. When you enter your room again, you find Jake looking in the box of photos your parents left you.

“What’re you doing?” you ask.

“Sorry, I just saw the top photo and was curious,” he tells you. He looks up at you form the where he’s kneeling and softens his eyes. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” you spit. “Just so you know, you’re not allowed to snoop or ask me things.”

“What makes you think I want to?” he asks, standing at his full height. He practically towers over you but you’re not scared. Just opposite actually, you feel weirdly safe.

“The look you gave me the first time you met me and knew my call sign.”

Jake steps closer to you, almost touching your chest to his body. “Is it because you don’t know me?”

“No, it’s because I don’t trust you.”

“But you trust me enough to live with me for a bit?” Jake smiles cockily, green eyes lighting up in amusement.

Your breathing slows, realizing just how close he is to you. He smells delicious, manly and sweet at the same time. Addicting as fuck. When she lowers his head to whisper in you rear, you have to fight the urge to sniff him.

“It’s okay, I know I’m addicting,” he whispers, lips brushing rhe shell of your ear.

You’re about to move your head to face Jake when you hear Rooster ask, “You ready?”

You pull away from a now smiling Jake and nod. Rooster looks between the two of you before smirking and motioning you to follow him with a jerk of his head. You do only stopping in the doorway and telling Jake, “Don’t fall for me and don’t deny you aren’t because I feel it. Trust me, you don’t want to be with me.”

Next part

tags: @akilatwt @russopalette

#glen powell #fanfic #glen powell x reader #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x you #latina reader

133 notes · View notes

gojoonsaturn · 25 days ago

Text

Let's talk about love?

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem reader

wc: 1992

a/n: When Satoru Gojo appeared at your doorstep with two little children five years ago, you were stunned. The smug, cheeky and selfish Gojo, who was a narcissist (in fact, there are many other adjectives that could be used to describe him), decided to take care of other people's children. At first, you were skeptical, but over time, the four of you became close, and they have become an integral part of your life.

warnings: dialogues, because i love them; fluff, a bit angst, mentioning the death of the reader's parents, grumpy Megumi, cute Tsumiki, loving Satoru, you are parents of Fushiguro! and something more that you'll find (yes, i hate writing warnings)

english is not my first language, nor even second, so there may be mistakes, but i really spent a lot of time proofreading and improving my works.

“What is love?”

Tsumiki was lying next to you late at night, you were reading books together, and at some point, the girl put hers aside and turned to you with a question.

“Love? It depends on the type of love you are talking about. For example, we both love to read, so in that case, love could be seen as a hobby. It’s about enjoying the process of getting lost in another world and getting to know the characters. Or you love Megumi, that’s a different kind of love - a love for a family member.”

“Or how you and Gojo love us, right?”

“That’s right.” You nodded and smiled at Tsumiki.

“And what about the love between two people?”

“Ugh, that’s more complicated, I think. I guess it’s like a friendship that takes on a special level.”

“And how to distinguish a strong friendship from love?”

“Well…” You said, scratching your head and thinking about it. Tsumiki gave you some time to gather your thoughts and waited silently for you to continue the conversation. “I think that, apart from the emotional connection, love is mostly based on physical interactions. When you hug, kiss, or do even more intimate things, it creates a strong bond between you. It’s like there’s something inside us that makes us feel special when we’re with the person we love.

“Like butterflies fluttering in our stomachs?” Fushiguro suggested.

“Yeah, that’s right!”

“And how do you understand that a person loves you, and not just friends with you?”

“I guess it’s hard to tell sometimes, but I think it’s important to listen to your heart. If you feel a strong connection and a deep love for someone, then that’s probably how they feel about you too. To be honest, I’m not sure. People say that if someone loves you, they want to be close to you. When they’re laughing, they’ll look at you. Sometimes, you look at people in love, especially if they try to hide their feelings. They might act awkwardly, but it’s still fun to watch. Of course, caring is also important. Friends care for you, but when you’re in love... It’s a deeper level of caring you feel instinctively. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Not yet, but I think I’ll figure it out in time, don’t you think?”

“Of course! You have your whole life ahead of you. You will definitely find someone who will bring you true love.”

“And you? Have you ever been in love?” Miki asked thoughtfully.

You sighed and fell silent.

“Probably, yes.” You said after a brief pause.

“Is it Gojo?” Tsumiki jumped up and approached you.

“What makes you think so?” You frowned and tried to hide your smile.

“I think he’s in love with you!”

“Miki, unfortunately, love isn’t always mutual. Sometimes, one person loves another, but the other doesn’t feel the same way.”

“You don’t like Gojo?!”

“No, I like him as a friend. Like your dad.” You made air quotes. “I like him as a sorcerer. He’s incredibly powerful, and during our studies, he helped me more than once with my techniques. But sometimes, he can be unbearable!”

Tsumiki laughed and looked at you with a barely suppressed smile on her face.

After a few weeks of busy schedule and constant work, Gojo and you had a few days off. Satoru suggested everyone go to Okinawa, and the children happily accepted, while you seemed slightly tense.

“Is something wrong?” Satoru asked casually.

You rubbed your forehead and forced a smile.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s actually a good idea. We’ve all been working hard lately, so it would be good to take a break.”

The next day, the four of you boarded the plane and waited for takeoff. You tried to avoid looking out the window, instead of listening to music with your eyes closed. Suddenly, you felt a gentle touch on your arm and opened one eye to see Megumi encouragingly smiling at you. He winked, quickly realizing that you were scared of flying. You smiled gratefully at him and intertwined your fingers with his, closing your eyes again. This time, the fear inside you partially eased.

Once you arrived in Okinawa, you checked into the hotel and headed to the beach. While the children played in the water, you read a book, with Satoru resting on your lap. Gojo lay there, sipping a cocktail.

“Are you okay?” You asked, putting down the book and sensing that he was lost in thought.

“Yes, it’s just a place…” He got up from your lap and sat next to you, watching Miki and Megumi play in the sea. “By the way, I noticed Fushiguro comforting you during the flight… You never mentioned that you were afraid of flying.”

“I don’t think that’s information that needs to be shared.” You scratched your forehead.

“Why not?”

“My parents died in a plane crash.” You overcame the lump in your throat and managed to say the words in a calm tone. “I was 8.”

Gojo took a deep breath and moved closer to you.

“Do you understand that it’s okay to grieve? You don’t have to act like an adult and pretend that you’re not worried about it.”

You felt tears welling up and buried your face in your knees. When you thought the tears had stopped, you looked up to see Satoru smiling softly. You wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, so you simply looked at him.

“I’m so grateful to have you. I guess for me, you are the family that I have never had.” You said, and Satoru took your hand and kissed the back of your palm.

Miki watched this interaction and smiled at herself.

A couple of hours later, Satoru was playing in the sea with the children. He picked Tsumiki up on his shoulders and chased after Megumi, who was splashing water at him. As you watched this scene, you felt all the tension in your body melt away. Against the backdrop of the setting sun, Satoru and the joy of the children brought a sense of calm to your heart. You stood up from the deck chair and walked towards the group. Megumi ran towards you and hid behind you from Gojo and Miki. You waved your hand, and a small wave washed over Satoru and Tsumiki, causing both of them to squeal.

“That’s not fair!” Satoru removed Tsumiki from around his neck and pouted, crossing his arms over his chest in a show of displeasure.

“Come on, it’s fun!” You patted the guy’s head as you approached him, brushing the sand from his shoulders.

After a few minutes, you noticed that the children were starting to get tired. You led them to their rooms, tucked them into bed and decided to return to the beach for the sunset.

As the sun was setting, Gojo took you to the sea. The water was quite cool, but Gojo’s warmth kept you comfortable. Satoru refused to let go of your hand until you were up to your chest in the water. The sun had nearly set when the man pulled you towards him and gently kissed your lips. He felt you both needed it, but was still afraid you would push him away. Instead, you snuggled closer and returned the kiss with equal intensity.

The next morning, the four of you were sitting at breakfast. Your smiles were subtle, but Tsumiki noticed something had changed. Gojo was rambling, and you smiled at every word he said. Later, at the beach, you were all playing in the water. Satoru kept touching you, and you responded eagerly.

“Something has changed between them.” Miki said to her brother, as they relaxed on the deck chairs, watching you sit by the sea.

“What do you mean?” Megumi replied, frowning in confusion.

“Their smiles, their touches... they weren’t like they were before.” The girl said with confidence.

Fushiguro turned his gaze towards his parents and looked at them for a long time. Previously, you avoided unnecessary touching, but now you were sitting with your shoulders leaning against each other and your back relaxed, while Gojo’s hand was still holding onto your waist. Megumi watched this, not noticing how you and Gojo approached him.

“Would you like to try riding a banana-boat?” Satoru suggested.

“A banana?” Fushiguro was still lost in his thoughts, so he didn’t immediately understand what the guy was talking about.

“Or we could look for a kiwi or a watermelon!” Gojo said and laughed.

Megumi rolled his eyes at the joke, but you laughed loudly and put your hand on his shoulder. Miki looked at her brother pointedly, but he turned away, muttering something under his breath in displeasure. You noticed it quickly and took your hand away from Satoru, stopping your smile.

“Why don’t you go first, just the two of you, then Megs and I?” You said, raising your eyebrows and pointing at the boy.

Gojo immediately understood what was going on and took Tsumiki on the water attraction.

“Is everything okay?” You plopped down on the blanket next to Megumi and gently nudged him on the shoulder.

“You and Gojo are together now?” The boy deliberately emphasized the last word.

“I think so.” You realized it was pointless to hide it from him, so you decided to just admit it.

“I see.” Megumi tried to avoid eye contact with you.

“Is something wrong?” You placed your hand on Fushiguro’s shoulder.

“I just thought that... Gojo is not good enough for you.”

“Wow!” You even pulled away from Megumi and frowned. “It seemed to me that everyone should decide for themselves who is suitable for them and who is not. Besides, you know, sometimes you can’t control love. Your body reacts to a person physically, while your brain isn’t even aware of it.”

Megumi turned to you and saw a smile on your face. He could tell from the look in your eyes that you were partly in your thoughts and probably thinking about Gojo.

“Do you really love him?”

“I’ve known him for five years. During that time, he has been by my side 80% of the time and has always supported me. I think what I feel for him could be described as love. I don’t know what he feels, but I feel comfortable with him. In general, I am calm around you. You are like a family to me, which I have never had before.

Megumi went through a complex thought process in his head. After thinking for a while, he nodded to himself.

“Where is your banana-boat?”

The next morning, Megumi knocked on Gojo’s door. After a long wait, Satoru opened it, but he seemed annoyed and wanted to slam it in Megumi’s face. The man quickly left the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

“Has something happened?” Gojo asked, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up.

“Do you love her?” Fushiguro asked suddenly, taking Satoru by surprise.

“Yes, I have loved her since she came to Tokyo Jujutsu High.” Gojo answered.

He realized that he did not want to deny his feelings and confessed immediately.

“It’s good that you weren’t hesitant. But if she gets hurt because of you, I will kill you.” Megumi replied.

If Gojo had heard this from another nine-year-old boy, he might have laughed and patted him on the cheek. But looking at the serious expression on Fushiguro’s face, he didn’t move a muscle and simply nodded in agreement. The man knelt down in front of Megumi and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Listen, Megumi, she is not going to suffer because of me or because of anything else. I promise you."

“What is it?” You mumbled sleepily, pulling Satoru back to bed.

“It’s just that... The staff wanted to check if we need any extra cleaning.”

You smiled through your sleep and hugged Gojo, pulling him closer to you.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x female reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you

52 notes · View notes

hmslusitania · 4 months ago

Note

35. “They’re not you.” for Jason/Dick

Which are "I'm dying." "You're not dying." and "I missed the train, can I stay with you?" It ended up being a little more pre-romance than actual romance, but! Have 1.5k of whatever this is (sick fic; it's sick fic)

It would be one thing if Jason hadn’t totalled his bike tracking down the smugglers in Blüdhaven. It would be another if he hadn’t lost his stupid grapple line, and still another whole situation if Dick hadn’t watched literally all of it happen.

“Need a ride back to Gotham?” Dick asks while they crouch on the fire escape to make sure Blüdhaven’s cops actually collar the smugglers they’ve so neatly lined up for them.

The concept of sitting on the back of Dick’s bike with him for the entire drive back up to Gotham makes Jason’s palms start sweating in his gloves.

“We’ve got trains for a reason, Dickhead,” Jason replies, and doesn’t need to see Dick’s face under his domino mask to know Dick’s just rolled his eyes.

Jason slips off the fire escape and in the shadow of the ’haven alleyway, he does his best to strip down his tactical gear into something that passes for civilian attire, stuffing his helmet and the rest of his gear into a bag. Collapsible duffel bags: never leave home without them.

He has to turn his collar up against the rain on his way to the station, and he doesn’t appreciate the way the grimy water drips down the back of his neck or soaks his hair, and he really, really hates it that he gets to the station in time to see the station master flip all the lights off and tell him that the next train to Gotham won’t be until the commuter run at six in the morning.

He does contemplate just crashing at the station entrance. Except his phone buzzes and he pulls it out to see a text from Dick that just reads, “Didn’t the trains stop for the night?”

It’s not an invitation, Jason knows that. It’s never an invitation. Dick had moved to Blüdhaven to get the hell away from all of them and like, sure, he won’t argue about it when Tim or Damian or the girls turn up at his door and invite themselves in, but he doesn’t like—

You know I’ve got a couch, right?

The second text makes Jason’s palms start sweating again. Or maybe that’s just the rain.

Whatever. Whatever. What. Ever. It’s fine. It’s literally so fine. He’s not a fifteen-year-old dipshit tagging along on Teen Titans missions in the blind hope of getting his crushes’ attention anymore. He’s a twenty-five-year-old dipshit chasing smugglers to the next city over to get his crush’s attention, which is totally different. And also not at all what he’d been doing. Whatsoever.

It’s not a long walk from the station to Dick’s apartment, but in the sixteen blocks or whatever it is, he gets even more soaked, in ways he really doesn’t enjoy. He’s at least too physically miserable to second-guess his own choices by the time he gets to Dick’s and tries not to be offended when Dick’s dog sniffs at him once and then ducks behind Dick’s bare calves because Jason’s gross from the Blüdhaven night.

“Can I use your shower?” Jason asks, already dropping his duffel bag and hanging his jacket on the hooks by Dick’s kitchen door.

“I’ll see if I can find anything that’ll fit you,” Dick offers. “Towels are in the cabinet.”

Jason grunts eloquently in response and then hides in the steam of Dick’s shower for longer than strictly necessary. He doesn’t come out until Dick knocks on the door to let him know there are clothes waiting for him. In a mostly neat pile by the bathroom door, Jason finds a pair of threadbare sweats he’d bet money had once been Bruce’s, and a shirt that’s even a little too big for him that advertises for the Metropolis Meteors.

Jason pulls it on and then tracks Dick back to the kitchen. He plucks at the logo pointedly and Dick just shrugs.

“Clark left it behind the last time we were catching a game,” Dick explains.

“Right, yeah, because Superman just hangs out in your apartment to watch baseball games,” Jason mutters, which only gets him a shrug again and then Dick goes back to prepping his coffee pot for the next morning.

Jason helps himself to the couch, dragging the blanket off the back of it and fully intending to pass out without speaking to Dick again that night. He gets as far as snuggling in with his damp hair on the throw pillow when Haley bounds over to him, licks him on the nose, and then retreats to Dick’s room while Dick laughs.

“Night, Jay,” Dick calls from the doorway.

“Night,” Jason mumbles, rubs the dog slobber off his nose and tries to sleep.

He figures out something’s gone terribly awry about the moment he wakes up to Haley frantically licking his face.

“Wh—” he croaks, and then he feels the prickliness in his throat and the chills of a fever, and it explains the little dog’s anxious investigation as well as the concerned frown he finds on Dick’s face when he can finally look away from the dog.

“I think you caught something,” Dick informs him.

“No, I did—” Jason starts and then interrupts himself to cough. “Mother—” cough “—fucker.”

Dick doesn’t quite laugh at him, but his face does contort into a sympathetic and pitying smile. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Don’t laugh at me, I’m dying,” Jason protests.

“You’re not dying,” Dick says, and goes to get him coffee anyway.

“You go out in the rain without a hood or a helmet and you never get sick,” Jason grumbles.

“I built up a tolerance,” Dick replies. “It’s like why you shouldn’t stop kids from eating dirt. It helps them build their immune systems or whatever.”

“Is that why you—” cough, cough, pitiful hacking wheeze “—keep licking evidence at crime scenes?”

Dick doesn’t dignify that with a response, which Jason guesses is fair enough, and his next request is for Jason to lift his head. It makes his head throb, but he makes it most of the way upright. He accepts the coffee and doesn’t know what to do with himself when Dick sits down on the couch beside him, clicking on the tv and scrolling through the offerings. He lands on a nature documentary programme that’s probably something Damian loves, and seems perfectly content to just drink his coffee and watch the show while Jason convalesces on his couch.

Despite the caffeine, as soon as Jason’s done with his mug, he finds himself slipping sideways and losing physical integrity until he fully collapses with his head in Dick’s lap. He expects Dick to push him off or to stand up and leave him there to his misery, but instead, Dick’s hand falls to the side of his head and he starts absently running his fingers through Jason’s unruly hair. It’s so pleasant it very nearly puts Jason right to sleep again, but he doesn’t trust himself not to, like, sleep-drool onto Dick’s thighs and he doesn’t think he’d ever recover from that emotionally, so he doesn’t let his eyes shut, and keeps focusing on the screen while the narrator talks about deep sea octopuses and some pilot programme from a land university for their marine biology department to conference with Atlantean zoologists or whatever.

When the episode finishes, Dick stands and audibly winces when Jason lets his head fall to the couch without catching himself.

“Do you want—” Dick starts, exactly as Jason says, “Should I—”

“Go ahead,” Dick suggests, taking their mugs back to the coffee pot.

“Should I head back to Gotham?” Jason asks, and finishes the question with a cough.

Dick doesn’t respond right away, but when he comes back to the living room, he’s got both their mugs still.

“I was going to ask if you wanted me to order in some soup,” Dick says, and then stands pointedly next to the couch until Jason lifts his head up again to make space for him.

Jason has to use his new cup of coffee to swallow past the lump in his throat. “That, um, that sounds better than going back to Gotham.”

“Yeah,” Dick agrees and once he’s finished placing the order on his phone, he goes right back to running his fingers through Jason’s hair.

“You never invite any of the others back to your apartment to stay,” Jason says, and he’s thoroughly losing the fight to stay awake now.

“The others all invite themselves,” Dick points out. “And also?”

He stops talking when the title of the new episode pops up and tells them that it’ll be taking them on a guided tour of the mutated and weird fauna and flora found exclusively in Gotham! Dick fumbles for the skip button and Jason wheezes out a croaky laugh that’s half cough.

“I figure we both get enough first-hand experience with Gotham’s weird shit,” Dick explains.

“Yeah,” Jason agrees. “You were saying, and also…?”

Dick’s hand stills in his hair for long enough that it seems pointed. It takes some doing for Jason to twist far enough that he can see Dick’s face, but it’s worth it when he does. Dick is looking — gazing, really — down at him, with a small smile on his face. It makes Jason blush against his will, like he’s some kind of damsel, but worst comes, he figures he can blame it on being flushed from his cold.

“And also,” Dick says. “They’re not you.”

#dc #jason todd #dick grayson #jaydick #the ghost ship scribbles #in honour of our mutual and shared covid case sorry lol

68 notes · View notes

99hook · 1 year ago

Text

crossed hearts

synopsis: two strangers make a drunken promise in the heat of the moment

A/N: sorry for taking a million years to post a fic. i know y’all have been asking and i’ve been putting it off for weeks soooo i took a few whole business days to conjure this up for y’all and i hope you loveee it!! enjoy babes!!

18+ only

You were quite content as you sat on the edge of the pool, legs submerged beneath the cool water and your face towards the sun, soaking up the last bit of the end of summer heat.

You had your airpods in to drown out the loud chatter and occasional children screaming when their parents tossed them in the deep end. You couldn’t help but laugh when a little boy, who had been thrown in the pool at least ten times, kept running back over to where his parents were sitting just to beg his dad to throw him in again.

You were about to watch him get launched from the diving board for the umpteenth time, but that’s when something else just so happened to catch your attention.

You felt something hit your back and turned around to find a foam football that a group of guys had been tossing around a little ways away.

You grabbed the football before it rolled off the edge of the pool and looked up at the man who came jogging after it.

“Shit, sorry about that. My friend’s got bad aim.” He chuckled as he extended his hands. You tossed the ball back to him and glanced over at the other three guys exchanging not so discreet laughs as they watched on.

You pulled one airpod out of your ear and looked back up at him, offering a simple smile as you said, “It’s alright, just tell him he might not need to pursue a football career anytime soon.”

He dropped his head and laughed, and you took immediate notice of the dimples that decorated his cheeks when his smile widens. His eyes were hidden by a pair of shades but if you could see them, you’d imagine he’d have a couple crinkles by them when he laughs that hard.

He glanced over his shoulder and the boys who were waiting for him. Their laughter had died down and now they were standing around with confused looks on their faces, probably wondering why that man hadn’t returned yet.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing he’s a pro wrestler then.” He shrugs his shoulder as he looks back down at you, keeping that dimple fledged smile on his face. “We all are, actually.”

“Pro wrestler? That sounds like an exciting career.” You say as you take a sip from your margarita that was starting to go down a little too smooth. “I’d love to make a living beating people’s ass.”

He chuckled again, tossing the football between his hands as he started stepping side to side.

“I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. That’s why we’re here right now. Got a show tonight, and uh, yeah.” He says as he adverts his eyes down to your margarita you placed next to you.

You glanced back over at the group of guys now with all their arms crossed over their chests, talking amongst themselves as they impatiently waited their friend to get back.

“Well I think your friends are getting tired of waiting.” you point over to the guys, and he looks back over his shoulder at them. “So don’t let me keep you distracted.” you joked, watching as another dimple fledged smile formed on his face.

“Alright, well, i’ll see you, uh-?”

“Y/N. You?”

“Tyler” he grins as he takes a few steps back before he turns around and jogs back over to the other guys.

You turned back around and put the airpod back in your ear as you took the last few sips from your glass, only then realizing that it was empty, and obviously you needed to head over to the swim-up bar for another one.

You lowered yourself off the edge, feeling the coolness of the water against your heated skin, refreshingly so. You kept your glass above the surface as you made your way towards the bar, unknowingly being watched by that same boy until his friends called him out on it.

“Dude, you talked to her for like, five minutes.” Darius says as he catches the football Tyler tossed to his chest. “Should’ve just asked for her number instead of staring at her like a creep.”

“I’m not even looking at her.” Tyler lies as he barely catches the ball when his friend passes it back. “I was looking at the water. It’s hot, i’m bout to jump in.”

Action and Anthony exchanged looks before they started passing the ball between each other, excluding Tyler as he pulled his shirt and sunglasses off and tossed them down on the chair.

Darius looked back over, finding you just as you took your place with a full glass you started sipping on. You could practically feel eyes burning into you, but you did your best not to acknowledge that. It was making you feel a little nervous, but thankfully the liquor in your frosty drink was strong enough to mask that.

A couple seconds passed by before you heard an enormous splash and you got covered in the drops of water from the impact.

You watched to see who was resurfacing, and couldn’t say you were surprised to see that it was Tyler.

“Hey again.” you called out to him.

“Hey.” he grinned, finding his footing when he got to the shallow side and standing up, exposing Sculpted, sharp abs and a couple more tattoos.

You had to keep yourself from letting your eyes wander, but it was hard to do. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head slightly until he was satisfied with how the slick locks landed against his forehead. He then made his way towards you and lifted himself up to sit on the edge, leaving a little distance between you.

“Done throwing the ball?” you asked, feeling the need to take another sip from your glass as the nerves started to become a little too unavoidable.

You couldn’t help it, he was strikingly handsome and now that he didn’t have those shades covering his eyes, you got to see the rich, deep shade of them and, well, brown eyes have always been a weakness for you.

“I am.” he says as he sways one leg beneath the water. “It got hot, needed to cool down.”

“Yeah. That’s why I have this.” You tipped your glass before you took another sip, watching as an eased smirk slipped across his lips as he looked back at you.

“I might get something when I get back tonight. Probably not a margarita, but something with some alcohol in it.” he says before he looks down at the water.

“When are you getting back?” you asked, unsure why you did in the first place. It felt weird right after you said it but before you could cringe about it, he was already answering.

“Probably around midnight.” he says, “Maybe a little later, I never really know. Kind of wanted to go somewhere and see what this city is all about before I have to leave again.”

“Well what would you wanna do? I know this place pretty well. I can tell you if something’s worth it or not, so you don’t waste the little time you have.”

“I don’t know, maybe a club or something? But, then again, I might just come back here and chill for the night. I’m probably gonna be tired anyway.” He shrugs as he keeps his eyes from roaming over to you, out of sheer nervousness he was starting to feel simply because your attention was solely on him, and for some reason, it flustered him.

“Well if you do decide to go out, there’s a couple places not far from here that-“

“Yo, Tyler, we gotta head out man!” You were cut off by one of the guys calling out to him from a little ways away, and when you glanced over your shoulder, you saw the three of them approaching, all with weird smirks on their faces.

One of the guys stepped forward, flashing a bright smile down at you. “Hey, sorry about hitting you with the football earlier. And for the record, I’m not planning on joining the NFL anytime soon.”

You looked over at Tyler who was trying to keep the smirk off of his lips, but failing miserably. Then you looked back up at the guy, a little at a loss for words because you didn’t actually expect Tyler to tell him you said that.

“But for real, sorry about that.” He says with a wide grin. “I’m Action, also.” He extends his hand, expecting you to shake it, which wasn’t typically something people around your age, as you assumed he was, tended to do anymore.

You reached up and took his hand, and he gently shook it before another guy decided to introduce himself. The one who seemed to keep a weird grin plastered across his face.

“I’m Anthony.” He gave you a little wave. That only led you to expect the last man to follow the others up, so you glanced over at him, but he kept his eyes on Tyler.

“Darius.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off the man next to you.

“Nice to meet y’all.” You offered a smile, “I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah, we-“ but before Anthony could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Darius nudging his ribs with his elbow. The two of them exchanged rather tense glances before you felt the energy between everyone suddenly shift into some weird, awkward tension.

“Uh- are you coming to the show tonight?” Anthony asked instead, glancing between you and Tyler.

“No, I actually didn’t know there was anything happening tonight. I didn’t know you were all pro wrestlers until he told me.” You point over at Tyler, who is finding it hard to sit there silently.

“Oh, so you don’t know who he is?” Anthony asks, looking a bit taken back. You looked over at Tyler and back up at his friend.

“You’ve never heard of Hook before?” He adds on, but that’s when Tyler looks over his shoulder and pipes up.

“She just said she didn’t know who we were.” He couldn’t help the aggravated tone, simply because he could see what his friends were doing and he didn’t care for it too much.

Darius placed his hand firmly on Anthony’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, which was a silent gesture to tell him to stop talking.

That’s when Tyler looked back at you, and you caught his softened eyes for a split second before he sent you a small nod and lifted himself up out of the water completely.

“Nice meeting you, Y/N.” Anthony beams, offering you a wave, as well as the other two guys who nod toward you as they all group up and head towards the hotel.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” You heard Tyler say as he heads back over to where they were previously tossing the ball. He grabs his shirt and tosses it over his shoulder, then slides those shades back over his eyes and waits for the guys to fully disappear inside before he makes his way back over to you.

“Sorry about them.” He mutters as he sits back down next to you, submerging his legs back in the water.

“It’s alright, they seem nice.” You shrug as you start to sway your legs.

“Sometimes.” He smirks as he runs his hand back through his hair, flinging droplets of water across your cheek. “But uh, I don’t know if you’re gonna be here later or not-“

“Yeah, for the next two days.” You didn’t mean to answer that so abruptly, but the margaritas and this man’s unusual charm had to be to blame for that. You felt your cheeks heat up when he looked over at you, sliding his tongue over his lips once before he nods.

“Me too.”

“Maybe I’ll see you later then.” You shrugged, feeling that unavoidable feeling brewing in your stomach, similar to what people say they feel when they have butterflies, but until then, you’d never experienced that before.

“Yeah, maybe.” He smirks as he pulls his legs out the water and rises back to his feet.

“Have fun beating people’s asses.” You grin before you take the last sip of yet another margarita, and he simply smiles back before he drops his head and makes his way towards the doors, leaving you sitting on the edge of the pool wishing he was still right there next to you.

———

Somewhere in the midst of a few more margaritas and somehow managing to recognize your hotel room, you ended up taking a pretty long nap.

You woke up around one in the morning, quite literally starving to death. You grabbed the laminated menu sitting on the bedside table and scanned your options, until you realized that room service was no longer available after midnight.

Letting out a groan that sounded similar to your stomach growling, you got up from the comfort of the plush bedsheets and slipped on your shoes. Taking a glance in the mirror was a little unnecessary at the moment. You should’ve known you were going to look a hot mess after how hard you crashed.

You took a second to wipe the smudges of mascara below your eyes and comb your fingers through your disheveled hair before you headed out the door, towards the elevator.

Thankfully your intoxication wore off at least eighty percent, so you were no longer wobbly on your feet, but you were still feeling a little buzzed and blamed that on the reason why you it took you a whole minute to figure out which elevator button takes you down to the main lobby.

You managed to get there without stopping on any other floor first, so you felt like that was an accomplishment. Your eyes landed on the doors that led to the cafeteria and you could smell the mixes of different foods the second you stepped out the elevator.

“I wonder why they can’t just bring this up to my room. Why do I have to come all the way down here and get it myself just because it’s late?” You mumbled under your breath, even though you meant to keep that thought in your mind. Another thing to blame on the alcohol.

You approached the buffet bar and immediately gravitated towards the pizza station. Two slices were plated and passed to you by one of the women behind the counter who didn’t appear all that thrilled to be serving food at one in the morning, but you could understand that.

You were just about to take your plate back up to your room, but decided last minute that you wanted to go outside and sit by the pool instead. With nobody being around that late at night, it sounded like a peaceful way to spend the next hour or so.

You kicked back in one of the lounge chairs after you finished eating, staring up at the stars that blanketed the sky, like diamonds dazzling above you. You searched for the brightest one of them all, as you always do, because when you were younger your grandma always told you that star belongs to you.

You found it a little over to the left, glimmering around the illuminated band of the moon and felt yourself smile. Maybe it was just another thing to blame on the alcohol you still had bits of running through your veins, but you couldn’t help but to grin from ear to ear from the simplicity of stargazing.

It was quiet compared to the daytime hustle and bustle of the city and the peaceful atmosphere was nice. You could’ve sat out there for hours on end happily enjoying your own company, but the silence was rather short lived when you heard the rowdiness of the group of guys from earlier right outside the gate.

You looked over and found the four boys stumbling around, laughing and making jokes amongst each other as they walked towards the hotel doors.

Your eyes zeroed in on Tyler specifically, who had a hood over his head but you recognized him by the his wild hair shoved underneath it. You wondered if they ended up going out to a club after all, seeing as how they all seemed to be a little drunk themselves.

You couldn’t help but to let out a quiet laugh, hoping you wouldn’t be heard, when one of the guys, you think you remember by the name Darius, says something that was apparently so hilarious it causes Tyler’s laugh to echo all around.

You looked back over towards the jacuzzi you’d been thinking about getting into for the last thirty or so minutes once the boys disappeared inside. Eventually, your temptations got the better of you and you found yourself sitting on the edge with your legs submerged in the hot, rolling water.

You stared down at the bubbles forming from the jets and the multicolored lights casting a rainbow glow on the surface, a little entranced by the ever-changing variations, so much so that you didn’t even hear the footsteps behind you.

“Hey” You heard a deep voice softly speak, but it startled you nonetheless. You jumped slightly when you looked over to find Tyler grinning at you, amusement in his hazy eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” He chuckles before he grabs a lounge chair and pulls it closer to you. He takes a seat and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and subconsciously twisting the ring wrapped around his finger.

“You’re fine.” You managed to chuckle back after the initial shock wore off. “Did you end up going to a club?” You decided to ask, but the answer seemed pretty obvious to you judging by the way he was giving himself away completely.

The hazy, low eyes and a relaxed, easy smirk to match. His cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, he couldn’t keep his hands still. He’d definitely been drinking, but you were finding it funny how you didn’t even know this man and yet it was so obvious to tell the difference between him being sober and intoxicated.

“For a little while. Didn’t really care for it though.” He shrugs as he slides his ring up and down his finger. “What did you do tonight?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, as if he was genuinely interested.

You didn’t know why you were smiling all over again, but you were. It might’ve been the alcohol but you weren’t sure how many things you could truthfully blame on a couple too many margaritas you had hours ago.

“Well, I ended up going to my room and passing out for a couple hours, then I woke up, got some food and came out here to enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“Oh, am I disturbing your peace right now?” He half-smirks, exposing one dimple.

You felt your cheeks practically burning and the steam from the jacuzzi wasn’t making it any better. You shook your head and looked down at the ring he was now twirling around.

“I’m okay with it.” You shrugged easily, doing your best to not let it show that you were feeling a little nervous all over again. Just like previously when the two of you were sitting on the edge of the pool, you couldn’t help it. Something about him had the capability to make your stomach erupt with those butterfly feelings everyone always claims, and you weren’t sure if you really liked it or not, but at the moment, you couldn’t fight against it.

The ring he was fidgeting with stilled for a second before he looked down at the ground, clearly trying to hide that wide smile you would’ve rather been shown.

“What about you?” You asked as you leaned back on your palms, attempting to keep the steam from engulfing your already heated skin. He looked up then, his eyes a little droopy but you couldn’t help but to find it cute. “How’d the show go?”

He started sliding that ring on and off different fingers as he spoke. “Pretty good. I mean, my back is killing me but other than that, I think it went pretty good.” He chuckles.

“So you’re the one that got your ass beat?” you teased, watching as his lips spread in a wider smile that he quickly brought his fist up to cover.

“I mean, maybe a little, yeah.” He nods, his laugh once again echoing around you, and something about it just must have been contagious, because your couldn’t help but to laugh with him.

“Well, i’m sure you’ll get ‘em next time.” You say as you look back down at the changing lights glowing against the stones of the jacuzzi. It grew silent between the two of you for a couple seconds, but only until the liquid courage he was enduring kept him feeling bold enough to talk a little more.

“So why are you here?” He asks, remembering you telling him you would only be staying at the hotel for two days. You look over at him, and he feels the need to clarify the question that he feels may have came out wrong. “I mean like- you said you were only here for two days, so are you on vacation or-?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to get out of town, really. I was getting tired of the same old stuff. I had a few days off so I thought it would be fun to just go somewhere else and pretend like I live a luxurious life.” You joked, and felt your cheeks burning once more when you made him laugh again.

“I mean, this is a pretty luxurious hotel.” He shrugs as he leans up and stretches his arms out. “My room came stocked with all the alcohol you can drink.”

“Mine too, but the frozen margaritas are my kryptonite.” You say, wishing you had one you could be sipping on just to calm to rushing nerves coursing heavily through you.

“I noticed.” He smirks, holding your stare for a few seconds longer before you were the one to have to break it first.

Just then, his phone rang in his pocket, and he took a minute to retrieve it before he answered. You could hear the deep voice of one of the guys you met earlier but you couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright. Uh, nah i’m just gonna chill out here for a while I think. Alright bro, bye.”

He slid the phone back in his pocket and you were trying a little too hard to hide the velvet tinge across your cheeks at the fact that he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

“Anthony.” He mutters as he shakes his head. “They’re tryna get me to come up and drink a bottle with them.”

“You don’t want to?” You asked, watching as he shrugged his shoulder and slightly shook his head.

“Nah, not really. Not up there, at least.” He then slips his arm through the strap of his backpack and pulls the bag around to his lap, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle with a grin.

“It’s not a frozen margarita, but if you want some you’re welcome to it.” He twists the cap off the bottle and takes a few sips before he extends it out to you.

You thought about it for a second, but not for very long before you grabbed it and held it out to see it better.

“Peach Crown?” You asked, “Never had it before.”

“It’s good.” he says as pulls his chair a tad bit closer.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You say before you take your first sip, followed by a couple more when you realized how smooth it went down.

You passed the bottle back to him and noticed the expectant look on his face. It was as if he was waiting to say he told you so.

“okay. yeah, It’s pretty good.” You admit. You feel his fingers brush over yours for a fraction of a second as he grabs the bottle from your hand and you were unsure why that slight and simple touch sent shivers cascading down your spine.

“I’m not even a big fan of sweet drinks but I tried this at the club and had to get a bottle.” He says before he takes a couple more sips and passes it back.

You grabbed the bottle again and tasted a hint of mint when you took your next sip, but the whisky washed it away before it got the chance linger against your tongue.

You heard him rummaging around in his bag again, this time pulling out a cream colored box and a lighter with some bold print across the side of it. He pulls a Black n Mild out of the box and places the plastic mouthpiece between his lips before he sparks the lighter and cups his hand around the flame.

His brows furrow as he lights the end of the cigar and inhales his first draw, exhaling a cloud of thick, gray smoke that has a slightly sweet tinge when it lingers around you.

“Wanna hit this?” He asks as you pass him the bottle back, and you had to admit you were a little bit tempted, but you declined for the simple fact that nicotine used to have a vice grip on you in college and the last thing you wanted was to spark an old flame that you probably won’t be able to burn out a second time.

You watched as he took one more rather large gulp and placed the bottle down between the two of you, and took a couple more hits from the cigar, blowing O’s above his head that stretched out the higher they got, until they completely faded away.

“My dad used to always do that.” You admitted all too easily for some weird reason, immediately shutting down the second the words slipped from your lips, because you never talked about that man to anyone.

“Mine still does.” He says as he stares up and watches the rings eventually fade into the darkness. Then he caught what you said fully and looked down at you.

“Oh, wait” he says as he attempts to read the look on your face. “What happened? He stopped smoking or something?”

You shook your head but shrugged your shoulder afterwards. “No, i’m pretty sure he still does. I just don’t see him anymore. But I remember when I was younger we’d sit out on the porch and he’d always blow those smoke rings.” You managed to chuckle even though speaking about the man in general made you want to completely close down.

Tyler stared at you for a few seconds, tapping his finger against the end of the cigar to ash it as he processed what you just said, and quite frankly, he was unsure what to say back.

You were quick to push the entire topic to the back burner as you grabbed the bottle sitting an arm length away and brought it back to your lips, this time tasting the pungent tobacco mixed with the sweet liquor. You set the bottle back down, pushing it a little closer his way and glanced up at him when you heard him speak again.

“How come you don’t see him anymore?” he asked, his voice a little softer spoken than it previously was.

You look down at the bottle, feeling like you’d need a couple more sips before you can even think about having a conversation pertaining to that, but you resist the urge to grab it again.

“A lot of reasons.” You shrug your shoulder, keeping your eyes on the amber liquid. “Mainly him just not wanting anything to do with any of the kids he has.” You chuckle coldly, shaking your head. “But it’s fine, cause in all reality, it’s for the best. All he’s ever done is hurt me so i’ve pretty much accepted the fact that I just don’t need to allow him in my life.”

You felt the weird feeling of a heavy weight being lifted off of you, as if there was a constant pressure weighing down on you but you never noticed it until it miraculously vanished.

Tyler let your words resonate with him for a minute, and even though he was pretty drunk, he still managed to comprehend everything you said. He couldn’t deny that it sounded sad to him, and he could see that talking about it visibly brought a deep pain to the surface for you, and he didn’t want to bring you down by making you tell him about something that clearly hurt you.

Truthfully, he was just curious about you. He didn’t know why, but right from the start earlier that day when he had that first initial run in with you, something about you instantly intrigued him, and it was beyond the range of just your physical appearance, even though he couldn’t deny that he was immediately attracted to you the second he got a good look at you for the first time.

Still, there was something else about you that he felt compelled to dive deeper into. He thought about you a couple different times after he left the pool. Once before his match as he was getting his wrists taped up. Once after his match when he was scanning the sea of faces in the crowd. Twice at the club when he remembered you getting interrupted in the middle of telling him where some good places to go were. And once more when he and the guys made it back to the hotel and he couldn’t help but wonder if, by some unlikely chance, you’d be sitting where he left you hours prior.

“I’m sorry that things have to be that way, but I understand it. I’ve had to cut off people I care about for my own wellbeing too. It sucks to have to do that, but sometimes it’s the best thing you can do for yourself.”

You found yourself a little taken back that he wasn’t saying the things it seemed like everyone else ever did. How you should let the past go and give your dad another chance. Your father is always your father no matter what. Don’t hold a grudge forever, etc.

You simply nodded because you weren’t sure what else you could really say, but you could see that there was a mutual understanding and it made you a lot less regretful about opening up to someone you barely knew.

“What about your mom?” He asks, and really it was more of him blurting that out, but he couldn’t help it because genuinely, he was just curious about what made you, you.

“I love my mom.” You found yourself smiling without realizing it, and the way your eyes lit up brought a slight smile to his face, too.

“She’s honestly the strongest woman i’ve ever known. She went through a lot with my dad. Raised three kids all on her own and always made a way no matter how impossible it seemed. I admire her, honestly.”

You looked back up at the stars, finding yourself wondering what your mom might be up to, and making a mental note to call her in the morning.

“What about your parents?” You asked him after a moment. “What are they like?”

You looked back over at him, catching his soft gaze before he adverts his eyes to the rolling water you just pulled your legs out of.

“They’re my role models, honestly.” He grins as he keeps his sights set on the changing lights. “My mom is just, all around an amazing woman. My dad is probably the best friend i’ve ever had. Im really thankful to have the parents I got.”

He feels the slightest sting when he says that, knowing that you evidently didn’t have what he has, but when he looks back at you, all he sees is a soft smile gracing your lips.

“That’s amazing.” You softly spoke, and he simply nods back before he takes another draw from the black n mild.

“Do you have any siblings?” You decided to ask, thinking about your brother and sister that happened to come to mind.

“Nah, it’s just me, actually. I’ve always wanted some though. Always wanted a little brother cause I just thought it would be cool, but my parents never had another one.” He shrugs. “What about you?”

“I have a little sister, a little brother, and apparently a couple more siblings i’ve never met.” You chuckle as you shake your head. “But my brother and my sister are the ones I grew up with. I was always the oldest so, I don’t know, I guess that’s why I have such a strong bond with them. My dad has more kids with other women, but like I said, i’ve never met them. I’d like to, but I probably never will.”

Tyler nodded along as he listened, his eyes trained on the concrete underneath his feet.

“Wow” you shake your head, “That drink must have some truth serum in it or something. I never really talk about stuff like this.” You managed to laugh it off, but you were a little surprised at yourself for opening up to this man so effortlessly when it usually took you a minimum of a few years to tell anyone anything deeply personal about you.

“I don’t either.” You heard him say.

He then reached down and grabbed the bottle, holding it as he stood up and took a couple steps towards you. he sat down next to you, stretching out one of his legs and bending the other at the knee as he leaned back on one hand, and sipped the bottle with the other one.

His shoulder brushed yours and you couldn’t help but to feel those nerves wracking around inside all over again, but you tried to mask that with another gulp of that liquid poison when he handed it over to you.

By this point the two of you had finished half of that bottle and needless to say, you were feeling the effects more than you might’ve realized at first.

You looked over at him as you passed the bottle back, taking notice of his defined jaw that looked like it could slice through anything that comes in contact with it.

He was about to take another sip before he caught you staring, turning to face you with even droopier eyes and that same, relaxed half-smirk.

“What are you thinking about right now?” He caught you off guard when he asked you that, and truthfully you didn’t have very many thoughts running through your mind for once. You were too distracted by his features to really process anything else, but of course you weren’t about to tell him that.

He placed the cigar between his lips and squinted one eye when the smoke sifted near it, inhaling another smoke filled draw into his lungs before he turned his head away to exhale it all. Then he looked back at you, waiting for your answer with a slight gleam in his low eyes.

“I’m not really thinking about anything, surprisingly.” You tell him, catching the exact moment that his eyes linger to your lips and he involuntarily slides his tongue over his own. You felt a trillion little fires blazing beneath your cheeks, a bit of an excited feeling spouting through you, mixed with sudden and complete nervousness all at the same time.

This time, you couldn’t blame it on the liquor. You may be drunkenly consumed by the remnants of the margarita and the fresh course of the peach crown, but everything you were feeling so intensely had nothing to do with any of that. It was all him, and the way your heart skipped two beats when he looked into your eyes again, only solidified that.

“What are you thinking right now?” You asked him, voice a bit shaky but you hoped he didn’t notice.

He tilted his head to the side slightly before you heard the bottle being placed down next to him. His eyes flashed to your lips once again before they roamed back up to match your suddenly wanting gaze, and that’s when he turned his head and put the cigar out against the concrete, before he turned back to face you.

“I’d rather show you.” His voice was suddenly raspier and it could’ve been the harsh tobacco and the liquor, but something made you think it was a little more than just that.

You felt your heart on the verge of imploding in your chest, thumping rapidly against your rib cage, so much so that you could only hear the pulsations pounding in your ears.

But the second he leaned a little closer, and you met him halfway, your lips collided all too easily and suddenly, all of the rapid beatings from your racing pulse were instantly washed away.

You melted beneath his touch the second his lips landed on yours. His hand, calloused and edged, was somehow so gentle against your cheek as his thumb slowly stroked over your skin. The taste of the liquor you’d both been drinking, mixed with the tart tobacco and still just the faintest hint of mint, embedded in your tongue when your lips parted and allowed him in.

The slightest moan you didn’t realize you let out made him smile against you, and the second you felt his lips slipping away, you chased his kiss like you needed it to survive.

It was a game of push and pull, but the two of you couldn’t seem to let your lips detach for even a fraction of a second. It was all consuming, leaving you feeling lightheaded but you couldn’t bare to put a stop to it, until the both of you were completely out of breath and had no other choice but to break away for air.

You left his lips puffy and tinged red and he left yours kiss-bitten and only yearning for more. His thumb rubbed over your bottom lip once before his fingers tangled up in your hair and he pulled you right back in.

So lost in the heat of the moment, spinning out of control in one of the best ways possible, you ended up getting pulled on top of him, straddling his waist with your arms locked around the back of his neck.

He leaned back slightly, his palms roaming up your sides, around your back and down to your hips. You felt his fingertips sliding beneath the end of your shirt, and everywhere he touched simply struck a blaze beneath your skin.

He pulled back slightly, his lips barely grazing yours as he fluttered his eyes open and waited for you to do the same. You caught his gaze and the undeniable gleam dancing in his dark eyes, something that made you want to immediately pursue anything he might’ve had his mind set on.

“Tell me something nobody knows about you.” He mutters breathily, sliding his hands fully beneath your shirt to caress your sides.

You eyed him for a moment, biting down on your bottom lip without realizing it, maybe just trying to feel the friction he took away.

“Something nobody knows?” You asked, subconsciously twirling the ends of his hair between your fingers as you put some thought into it. He kept roaming his hands up and down your sides, your smoothed skin was a beautiful comparison to his tougher palms and one jagged fingernail that scraped against you.

“I’m scared of snakes.” You shrugged, but he only smirked and shook his head at you.

“Everyone is. Something deeper than that.”

You pulled back a tad bit, your eyes lingering down to his puffed lips that you were dying to get another taste of.

“I-“ you hesitated, and he could see it immediately.

“Tell me.” He gently urged, rubbing his thumbs back and to against your hips. You looked into his eyes, that intense, strong gaze unwavering when you caught it again.

Suddenly, for some strange reason, it was all too easy to admit something you’d never told anyone, and never planned to in your entire life.

“I have a scar on my thigh from my ex boyfriend pushing me down some stairs when I was in high school, and it’s pretty noticeable, but i’ve never told anyone where it came from because- I don’t know, honestly. I just, i’ve never told anyone what happened. I just said I fell.”

Once again, there was that strange feeling of an immense weight feeling like it had been lifted right off of your chest, and maybe all you needed to do was open up to people a little more instead of keeping a brick wall built around your heart, but up until Tyler, that was never possible for you.

His jaw throbbed twice before his eyes adverted down for a second, then back up. You could easily see the shift. The blackest of hues casted over them.

“Can I see it.” He whispered, and suddenly you felt like closing yourself off once again. He could tell that you were apprehensive, which was why he added, “Please?” as he rubbed small circles against your skin.

You took a moment before you leaned back a little, pulling your shorts up just a tad to expose the embedded scar you always carefully hid, traced high up against your skin.

He looked down, taking in the look of the faded yet deep indentation, clenching his teeth hard behind his lips.

“Needed nineteen stitches.” You mutter as you slide your finger over the jagged line. It still makes you cringe just to touch.

Tyler slides his hand out from underneath your shirt and brings it down to your thigh, his fingertip delicately tracing over that wound once before he looks back up into your eyes again, this time with a sharper stare that could slice right through you.

“He should’ve got his ass beat for that” His gravely voice suddenly feels like it has the power to physically shake you.

“He didn’t, but I did leave him.” You say back, watching as he nods and slides his hand back underneath your shirt, roaming it up to the middle of your back before he pulls you closer.

“Good.” He mutters before he leans in and locks his lips with yours, once again making you melt into him for the second time, and hopefully not the last.

You felt his fingertips graze underneath the thin strap of your bathing suit you’d yet to change out of, the moment suddenly escalating into something so breathtakingly intense.

His tongue explored every square inch of your mouth, leaving the taste of him lingering. That mix of heavy tobacco, peach and mint you knew you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

But just then, his phone rang in his pocket, and he stilled as soon as he heard it, debating whether he should let it go or at least see who it was calling.

His hand slipped away from your skin and you missed it there immensely, almost immediately. He dug around in his pocket and pulled the phone out, chasing your lips one last time before he completely detached to look down at who’s name might’ve been floating on his screen.

He sighed before he answered, holding the phone up to his ear, and this time, you were close enough to hear the conversation.

“Yeah?” He bit out with an annoyed tone, which only made a bashful grin play on your face. You leaned back a little and looked at him, taking the moment to really study his features, even if your vision was a little blurred and the lighting around the pool area was barely illuminating anything.

Your fingers absentmindedly twirled some loose ends of his hair as you watched his lips move when he spoke.

“Nah, I’m not. I’m out by the pool right now-“

Just then you heard the voice on the other end of the line say your name and something incomprehensible after that. Tyler rolled his eyes, his shoulders stiffening a little bit as he leaned back a bit and discreetly turned the volume down.

“Stop.” He cut in, his voice suddenly demanding. You felt his fingers grazing your skin with his freehand, and he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“I don’t know yet. Later.” He shrugs one shoulder as he speaks back into the phone, growing increasingly impatient by the passing second.

You could hear a couple laughs by various voices rumbling through the speaker, but that’s when Tyler hung up the phone and silenced it before he laid it down next to him.

You tilted your head to the side, your curiosity undoubtedly piqued and proceeded to ask him, “What was that about?”

He shook his head and placed his hand on your thigh firmly as he leaned up some. “Just my friends being aggravating, it’s nothin.” He says as he roams that hand a little higher.

You only nodded, your eyes glancing back down to those swollen lips you just couldn’t seem to get enough of. You leaned back into him and he met your kiss halfway once again, but it was short-lived when he pulled back, out of nowhere, his eyes filled with something you deemed unfamiliar and rather unreadable.

His lips parted but he didn’t speak for a moment, trying to find the right words. Truthfully, he was nervous to ask, because he didn’t know if he was about to ruin the moment or exemplify the passions of it, and the last thing he wanted to do was give you the wrong impression of him.

He inhaled a slow breath before he finally let the words out, feeling his hands start to get clammy against your skin.

“I know we just met, and this is all kind of going fast, but I’m okay with it… if you are?”

You felt the air get caught in your lungs, blinking twice as you realized what might be about to happen next.

His nervous antics caused his fingers to fidget a little and you felt that against your back. He desperately awaited your response as he stared solely into your eyes, showing nothing but pure urgency for you, and anxiousness mixed in with it.

You felt your heart beginning to hammer in your chest again, bringing back those violent pulsations to pound in your ears and at this point you were fairly certain he’d be able to hear it himself.

All you could do was attempt to calm yourself but there was hardly any use to that, and instead of giving him a straight forward answer like he was waiting for, all you did was pull yourself off of him, and he watched you intently as you stood up and slipped your shirt over your head, and your shorts down to your ankles before you stepped out of them.

He’d already seen you in that bathing suit but it was different this time. His eyes roamed down to admire every curve and crevice your body had to offer, shamelessly stopping to take in specific parts of you that he could pinpoint as his favorites immediately.

You kept your eyes on him as you took a step back and stepped down into the shallow, heated water, that you already knew wasn’t going to help your case when your skin already felt like it was set ablaze, and all due to his simplest touches.

He never took his eyes off of you as he followed your lead, standing up and pulling that hoodie, along with an undershirt over his head, exposing those sharp abs and a series of tattoos you wanted to know the meaning behind.

You lowered yourself until the water rested at your shoulders and waited for him to join you. He pulled his joggers down, already had swimming trunks on and you couldn’t help but to smirk when you noticed that.

“Did you have this all planned out?” You asked as you motion over the trunks that sat dangerously low around his hips.

“I planned to come out here.” He says as he takes a step down into the water. “Didn’t think i’d be lucky enough to see you again, though.” He says as he lowers himself down. The water stopped halfway up his chest, his skin fusing red from the heat, but neither of you minded it.

He reached back and picked up that bottle that was long forgotten by you, taking a few sips before he handed it over.

“Might as well finish what we started.” He shrugs, referring to the rest of the liquor filling only a quarter of that glass bottle.

You grabbed it from him and took two sips, and he found it a little fascinating how you never winced when the poison hit your throat.

When you passed it back to him, he placed it back down on the edge of the jacuzzi and brought his arm up to rest lazily behind you.

The liquor was the only reason why you weren’t a complete mess. Somehow you managed to steady your thundering heart and the knots in your stomach were only barely noticeable by that point, and all you felt were tingles skating through your whole body. Like an unspoken plea for his touch that your skin craved, but your lips didn’t speak.

You turned your head to look at him, and he was already staring back at you with a crooked smirk and that knee-weakening dimple embedded in his cheek. He had a bit of a deeper, rosier tinge casted over his skin, mixed with that glint in his eye that you couldn’t miss even if you tried to.

“I enjoy talking to you.” He says as his fingers play with the ends of your hair that falls over your shoulder. “You’re very enjoyable to talk to.” He adds, earning a chuckle to slip past your lips and his. It was obvious that the alcohol had sunk in judging by the goofy grin he had and the way his words were a bit slurred, but it was the same for you.

“You think you’d say that if you were sober right now?” You quirked a brow at him.

“I know I would.” He says with a reassuring nod. “Just cause i’m drinking doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about right now. I mean everything i’m saying to you. I don’t usually, like, open up to people I just met, believe it or not. But it’s… it’s just easy to do with you.”

You felt your lips sliding up into another smile, probably for the hundredth time that night.

“I feel the same way with you. I mean, I told you something i’ve never told anybody else before. So, if that doesn’t say something, I don’t really know what will.”

“Says a whole lot.” He smirks, his eyes involuntarily flickering down to your lips all over again, and you knew in that moment that you were done talking when you subconsciously leaned in towards each other.

His kiss might end up being your biggest weakness from that point on. You just knew that when you inevitably part ways, you were going to be craving the feeling he so effortlessly gave you.

He was trying not to worry about the fact that the time was so limited. All he wanted to was to savor every last second he gets to have with you. Everything else just simply wasn’t on his mind anymore.

You found yourself back on top of him, this time with very little clothing in between. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingertips trailing through the patches of hair that made a path from the middle of his chest, down his torso until it disappeared beneath his trunks.

A low groan reverberated through his throat when you slightly ground down against him, feeling the hard bulge beneath the thin fabric that he was ready to rip right off.

You felt his hand snake around from your lower back to your hip, before his fingers dipped underneath the band of your bathing suit bottoms, eliciting a gasp the second you felt the pad of his middle finger graze over your throbbing clit.

He leaned in more to lock his lips with yours again as he swirled that finger fluidly, reveling in the mix of breathy sighs and sweet, low moans that slipped past your lips and got trapped somewhere within him.

His tongue slid around yours, and that particular flavor made itself at home when it sunk into your tastebuds.

The circular motions of just that single finger had your entire body buzzing. Your nails dug down into his shoulders and you felt the thick band of muscle flex when he felt the sting, but he didn’t stop you, nor did he want to.

“You wanna go up to my room?” He mutters against your lips as he quickens the pace. You had to take a minute to collect yourself just enough to be able to respond to him, and that only happened when he slowed down those circular motions to give you a chance to speak properly.

You shook your head, and he pulled back to look at you with a bit of a confused look crossing his face.

“Don’t wanna go anywhere. I wanna do this right here.” You breathed out, and it was evident that he was a little taken back by that.

He eyed you for a second before he glanced over both of his shoulders. There was nobody around, most of the room lights were turned off that he could see by the windows, and granted the two of you had been out there for quite a while without anybody else intruding.

“That’s a little risky.” He says, but he smirks right after, and you could see the gleam sparking in his eyes when the thrill of possibly getting caught red handed took over him, too.

“I’m willing to take a risk tonight if you are.” You whisper back, sliding your tongue over your lips before you lean back into him, catching his kiss before he has a chance to speak.

His answer was given to you when you felt him pull the string of your bikini that was tied against your hip. The fabric melted off the right side of you before he reached down and pulled the other one, leaving you completely bare underneath the boiling water.

He kept his lips locked with yours, his tongue never getting tired of exploring each and every inch within your mouth as he lifted up just a little to pull his trunks down enough.

When there was no clothing keeping the two of you separated under the water, you felt a rush of nerves jolting through you. It suddenly became more than a heavy make out when your bodies collided.

You pulled back from his lips, inhaling the much needed oxygen that suddenly felt a little bit suffocating, and he kept his eyes trained intently on you as he stilled every single movement.

“We can slow down.” He whispers breathily, but you shake your head almost too abruptly.

“No, it’s not that. it’s just, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me either. I don’t, honestly, I don’t ever do this. I just want you to know that.”

“I already knew that.” He softly whispers back. “I could tell. And, you might not believe this, but I don’t ever do these types of things either.”

You didn’t believe him as much as he probably believed you, but you didn’t want to waste what little time you had questioning whether or not he was being completely honest with you.

“You didn’t give me a bad impression of you. Not at all. Why do you think I came back out here tonight?”

“Cause you wanted to sit by the pool, I thought?”

“The only reason I wanted to do that was because I was hoping i’d see you out here again.” He admits, making your heart skip at least three beats.

“I’m glad you did.” You beam before the temptations get the best of you all over again. You lean back into him, latching your lips with his for what felt like the millionth time, but you weren’t even close to getting tired of it.

That kiss certainly, and suddenly escalated into something so much more when he reached down and grabbed himself, positioning so that he could easily push up into you.

But before he did that, he made it a point to pull back one last time, catching your eyes when they fluttered open.

“Are you positive you wanna do this?” He asks, his voice has a whole new edge to it, exemplifying how serious he was about the simple question.

You nodded easily before you said, “positive”, and that’s when his eyes scanned yours, searching for the faintest hint of dishonesty, but he found none at all.

He nodded once before you felt his tip at your entrance, and you braced yourself for what was to come next.

He kept his dark eyes focused on you as he slowly angled his hips upwards, pushing himself in just a little at a time.

Your brows knitted together the moment you felt him stretching you out, and he could tell by the way your walls were clamping down around him, that it had probably been a while since you’ve done this with anybody else.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He mutters, trying and failing to keep his voice steady and strong, because the immaculate feeling you were giving him was already sending him off to a euphoric planet.

You grasped his strong shoulders and lowered yourself down, pushing him in even more. The searing, stinging pain quickly faded away once you completely accepted every inch of him. He was certainly bigger than anyone else had been before him, and somehow he could already tell that, and he’d be lying right through his teeth if he said that didn’t stroke his ego a little bit.

He held his hips still until he felt you relax. He let you take the lead, simply because he didn’t want to be too overwhelming.

Once you starting rocking your hips, his eyes immediately rolled back. The way your tight walls clutched him could’ve very well became a new addiction that he wouldn’t know how to overcome anytime soon.

You bit down on your lower lip to attempt to keep your moans at a minimum as you swayed back and to, causing waves in the rolling water that splashed up to the surface over and over again.

He felt beads of sweat sliding down his temple, tasted some saltiness on his lips, too. He didn’t realize how worked up he really was until he was fighting with all his might not to grab your hips and mercilessly fuck into you.

He watched as you took all of him better than it seemed like you were going to at first. You somehow knew exactly what to do to feel him as deep as he could possibly go, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, and he found himself completely adoring the fact that you were using his body to your advantage.

Your head tipped back the moment he thrusted his hips up, hitting a spot that you never knew you had, that made an immediate wave of warm tingles course through your veins.

He wrapped both arms around your lower back and pulled you flush against him, finding your lips and captivating them with his own.

He slowly angled his hips back and to, loving the sounds that slipped through your lips with each gentle thrust.

Your nails left half-moon indentations in his shoulders, and they’d probably end up being there for a couple days after.

You were beginning to feel your head spin out of control again, but all you did was embrace that wildly unstoppable feeling with everything you had, and all he did was enhance it each time you felt his tongue glide across your lips, and his breathy groans get lost within your mouth.

The passions were running deeper than either of you could’ve ever braced yourselves for. Your bodies were intuitively connected, moving in perfect rhythm, complete harmony.

You’d never felt more in tune with anyone else before in your life, and he’d never felt more encapsulated by anybody he’d ever been with before.

He started thrusting faster when he picked up on the signs you gave him. You could hardly keep your composure when you felt him repeatedly pounding into you, knocking against your sweet spot perfectly.

Your knees started to ache as they bared down into the step of the jacuzzi, your thighs burning from how far they were spread apart, but neither of those feelings mattered enough in that moment.

All you were focused on was what Tyler was doing to you. The riveting sensations that overpowered your buzzing body. The way his low, deep groans made you clench down around him. His arms wrapped tightly around your back as he rocked up into you.

You had to press your lips against his shoulder to muffle the unfaltering moans, and he held you tighter before he picked up the pace once more.

His lips placed a few loose kisses to your neck as he pushed himself in and out of you with a force that made waves arise in all different directions.

The sounds of the water splashing against the tile, breathy sighs, groans and muffled moans were all that the two of you could hear.

He felt you pulsate around him again, a couple high moans escaping from his shoulder and you couldn’t help it. Your eyes screwed shut as you clinged to him, drawing small traces of blood where your nails dug down, but he wouldn’t have minded it either way.

He heard his name slip past your lips before you even realized you said it, and he couldn’t help the feelings that gave him.

A mix of incomprehensible cries of pure pleasure lingered around you both and he wasn’t worried about the sounds any longer when he knew you were so close to that earth-shattering orgasm he was aiming to give you.

He kept his thrusts strong and steady even when he felt like his knees were becoming too weak. His brows furrowed in complete concentration as he kept trying to hold back until he felt you release around him.

He leaned back and turned his head to the side, waiting for you to look back at him, and when you did, you could see the dazed and blissed out look in his low, faded eyes.

His puffed lips were parted, some slick ends of his hair cling to the sides of his face, brows furrowed intently and he looked like the epitome perfection in your eyes for everything you ever knew it to be.

You couldn’t help but to catch his lips once more, completely allowing any and all the sounds that he pulled from you to get lost within him.

His arms tightened around you again, your chest flush with his and tongues at war for the umpteenth time that night, until he felt your body shudder and your mouth fall open, breaking that heated kiss the second you felt that high crash into you with a force that nearly made you tremble.

He leaned back to watch you, finding you somehow even more beautiful than he already thought you were. Your head tipped back as you welcomed that all consuming rush that found home in your veins and spread rapidly through every last inch of you.

His name once again flew past your lips and that’s when his hips stuttered, and one drawn out, low groan escaped his lips as his head tipped back and his and your releases mixed within you.

Your eyes rolled the moment you felt him fill you, the warmth engulfing you as it took over.

You peered your eyes open and saw the hazy blur of the stars above, though a couple of them probably weren’t actually there in the first place.

He picked his head back up and watched as you came down from that high he was quite proud about giving you. Both of your chests were heaving deeply, heavy breaths emitting past your lips and his, and the moment you locked eyes again, there was a brief pause in the quick rhythm of your racing heart.

His pupils were dilated, matching the moon above as he looked back at you, lips practically bruised by this point and cheeks far deeper than just a rosy hue.

He slid his tongue between his lips before he slowly pulled himself out of you, and you had to admit that you missed the feeling of him stretching you out immediately.

“I, uh-“ he stammers as he pulls his trunks back up, and you take that as your sign to reach behind him and grab the other half of your two-piece and assemble it back in place.

“I came in you.” He says as he eyes you worriedly. “I shouldn’t have, I mean, I should’ve pulled out. Right?”

What you didn’t know, was that it was the first time he’d done that before. Usually he wore a condom and then he didn’t have to pull out of whoever he happened to be with, but most times he would just let them swallow it. He never even thought about fucking someone else completely raw with the intentions to do what he just did.

“I’m on birth control.” You tell him as you tie the strings against your hips. “But yeah, I mean, what if I wasn’t, right?”

“But you are?” He asks to be sure, and you nod back. You could visibly see the relief that washes over his face, but he’s still perplexed over the fact that he didn’t even try to pull out of you. He didn’t know what came over him, or how he had gotten so caught up in the moment that he completely disregarded the rules he always strictly follows.

“Alright.” He says as he places his hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs over your skin gently.

“Come here.” He mumbles before he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you into him, holding you tight against his chest as he takes a moment to endure everything that his heart was feeling and his mind was thinking.

You laid your cheek against his shoulder and held him back, feeling his steady heartbeat thump against your chest.

Even though the two of you had just done so much more, that simple embrace felt like it was on the higher scales of intimacy. You didn’t know what exactly you expected, but it wasn’t to be wrapped up in his arms.

You felt your heart fluttering, and a doomed feeling eased it’s way in. You knew right then and there that you were going to be thinking about this man for far too long after you both inevitably say your goodbyes, and it was going to hurt worse than hell.

Thats when those thoughts started seeping in for you, and unknowingly to you, for him too. He was wondering what he should try to do to stay in touch with you, or if that was even something you wanted from him. He was thinking about how he probably just fucked himself thoroughly, because he had completely gave into his temptations that all revolved around you.

He doesn’t regret a moment, but he’s already dreading what it’s about to be like when you both leave.

He didn’t know how to go about anything else. He didn’t come there expecting to meet someone he had an instantaneous connection with like nobody he’d ever met before. He couldn’t help that he just wanted to hold onto you for as long as he could in the short time he and you both had left at that hotel.

But all those worrisome thoughts suddenly vanished when you pulled yourself up and looked into his eyes. All he was focused on then, was you. And undoubtedly it would probably be that way from there on out.

“Tyler” you whispered his name in a different way. A way that made his stomach immediately drop. A way that sounded like regret to him.

“Yeah?” He swallowed thickly, doing his best not to let his rampant emotions get the better of him.

You shy away from his intense gaze and he wished you wouldn’t have done that. He dips his head to catch your eyes again and hopes you’ll hold it.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice suddenly softer, a little shakier, even.

You were afraid to say what you were thinking, as was he. You knew things were happening so fast that it was almost impossible to process it all, but the only thing you knew for certain was that there was no solid ending in sight for what that night had mounted into.

“I just-“ You began, but you found it so hard to muster the words when he was staring at you with so much intensity, so much underlying emotion that he didn’t know how to hide.

“I don’t know what you expect out of this, or if you even expect anything at all… but I don’t know how well I can take it if we leave here and I just never hear from you again.” You admitted, only due to the liquid courage and little bouts of confidence from your previous moments shared together.

His lips parted but he didn’t speak. He realized then that everything he was feeling, was everything you were feeling, and it took him by surprise to say the very least.

“I’ve never been a one night stand type of girl.” You tell him, shrugging your shoulder. “And I don’t ever want to be that. I’m not asking for a relationship with you, or any kind of commitment, but just- I don’t know if I could handle it if you just ghosted me after all of this.”

He held onto every last word you said. He wasn’t completely sure what to say back, because he could tell that you were far better than he could ever dream of being when it comes to expressing your thoughts and your emotions, but he relied more on actions than anything else.

He slipped his ring off of his finger from behind your back and held it out for you. You glanced down at it, brows knitting in confusion before you looked back into his eyes.

“Can you hold onto this for me?” He asks, holding that silver ring between two fingers. “I’ll keep coming back for it, as long as you have it.”

You felt your lips slip up into and effortless smile that brought one to his face too. You took the ring and slid it down two different fingers, but it was too big for either of them, so you reached up and unclasped the necklace you always wore, one that your mom gifted to you years and years ago, and slid the chain through the ring before you clasped it back around your neck.

Tyler stared at it as it sat perfectly against your chest. It was almost like you accepting that ring was the solid reassurance he needed.

“I can’t promise you much. The life I live right now doesn’t really allow time for me to have relationships or, anything at all, really. But I promise that as long as you’re wearing my ring around your neck like that, I’ll keep coming back.”

You nodded, holding out your pinky finger to really seal the deal. He glanced down and let a boyish grin slip across his lips before he wrapped his own pinky around yours and shook it.

“Cross my heart.” he says, staring deep into your eyes to insure that you hear and believe him.

“And as long as you keep coming back, i’ll be wearing this ring around my neck. Cross mine.” You tell him before your pinkies unlock and your lips do instead.

———-

#hook aew #hook aew fic #hook aew angst #hook aew fluff #hook aew imagines #aew hook #tyler senerchia #hook x reader #hook imagine #hook nation rise

289 notes · View notes

miryum · 2 years ago

Text

Hello, Bottom (Newt x Reader)

Another high school AU where Y/n always calls Newt “bottom” due to his locker that’s below hers. One day, after years of pining and fretfulness, he finds confidence from deep within and sasses back.

“Hey, bottom.” You comment, rifling through your locker.

Newt huffs and rolls his eyes. You laugh as he slams his locker door. “God, I hate that you call me that.”

“Well, you are, aren’t you? You have the bottom locker.”

Newt stands and leans against the wall. “I always enjoy these conversations of ours. Gives me something to look forward to in between classes.”

“Glad I could be of such service.”

Meanwhile, Thomas and Minho stand by the wall, waiting for Newt to finish with his things.

“It’s nice he’s talking to her.” Minho shrugs. “Remember the two years he couldn’t say a word so it was just awkward silence whenever he had to squat down beneath her?”

“Yeah,” Thomas chuckles, “that was funny. But I would’ve thought he’d have the guts to ask her out by now.”

“It’s Newt.” Minho counters. “He’s like, the most passive person ever. He overthinks everything. What if she says no?” He mimics Newt in a bad rendition of a British accent, “What if she doesn’t like me back? Then it’ll just be awkward and she’ll hate me and it’ll be so embarrassing!”

“Okay,” Thomas says, “but Y/n’s gotta like him back. Who else makes funny sexual innuendos at their locker neighbor? I just ignore mine.”

“True.”

Newt walked over to his friends, an odd pep in his step. “Hey guys,” he chirps, “what’s up?”

“The sky.” Thomas says while Minho, at the same time adds, “Not your relationship with Y/n.” Thomas lets out a loud laugh and high- fives Minho.

Newt huffs and rolls his eyes. “Bug off.”

“She’s friends with Sonya.” Thomas offers, “Can’t you just ask your sister?”

“No!” Newt shudders at the thought. “That would be too embarrassing.”

“But then you would have a definitive answer.”

“I guess,” Newt sighs.

“Well I don’t know much about girls,” Thomas says, “but why don’t you just ask her out? You guys already talk a lot; it’s just the next step.”

“Ugh! You don’t understand.” Newt whines, clearly frustrated. “I like her too much to put our friendship on the line.”

“Friendship?” Thomas frowns. “What friendship? You guys are just locker buddies.”

“We have History together!”

“Do you guys talk in History?”

Newt groans then admits, “Sometimes. Not all the time… but sometimes.”

“Just try to be more confident next time.”

“I’ll try.”

“Hello bottom!” You greets.

Newt lifts an eyebrow, Minho’s words coming back to him. A shot of confidence races through him. “I can assure you, I am not a bottom.”

Your mouth falls open and you can’t think of a retaliation. Slowly, you shut your locker and look down at the boy who is smirking up at you.

“Pardon?”

Newt chuckles and stands heart- beatingly close to you. “You heard me.”

“It’s a busy hallway. Please repeat it.”

“I said,” Newt breathes, “I am most certainly not a bottom.”

You took a deep breath. “Anyway to prove it?”

“How about I take you out Friday night and I’ll show you?”

“I have been waiting so long for you to ask that.”

“Really?” Newt blinks, taken aback.

“Yeah.” You smile, “You’re really fun to hang out with. Not to mention cute.”

Newt smiles back, blushing slightly. He glances down at his feet before looking up and meeting your gaze. “I’ve had a crush on you for over three years.”

“Are you kidding me?” Your mouth falls open. “I’ve liked you for three years! Why didn’t we go on a date sooner?”

“I… have no idea.”

“Well, I gotta get to class.” You say, “I’ll see you Friday?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you Friday.” Newt grins.

“Okay.”

After a moment of standing still, not wanting to leave Newt, you reluctantly step away. “Bye.” You wave to him, joining your friends as you head off to class.

Newt floats over to Thomas and Minho, the latter who says, “You idiot! I told you she liked you!”

“Yeah, you were right.” Newt’s lovesick smile never faded. “She likes me.”

2K notes · View notes

classiclumsy · 2 months ago

Text

𝔗𝔦𝔱𝔩𝔢: 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔯𝔲𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℌ𝔬𝔤𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔊𝔲𝔫

Summary: A cozy Sunday morning with Severus is interrupted by an unexpected visit from friends, leading to a fun and lively outing in Hogsmeade, ending with a tender moment between you and Severus.

Pairing : Severus Snape x Fem! Reader

Warning : This story has explicit sexual content and is for mature audiences (NSFW +18)

A/N : This is my first time writing fanfiction, and I’m so excited (and a little nervous) to share it with you. English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes, but I’m doing my best! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any feedback or thoughts would mean the world to me, especially since I’m still learning.

You are jolted awake by the sound of the alarm blaring. Groaning, you slam the snooze button and roll to the side of the bed, burying your face into the pillow in an attempt to escape the noise.

“Merlin’s beard, It’s Sunday!” You are planning to spend at least one or two more hours in bed after a rough week of teaching and extra classes for students who need extra preparation for the upcoming exam. Then you feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, and a deep voice chuckles, sending a shiver through your body and turning it to jelly.

“Good morning, my sweet potato. What’s got you all grumpy this morning, hmm?” You snuggle closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you playfully fumble with the light, trying to balance morning brightness with cozy darkness. “Mmm, Sev, it’s still too early.” Even after five years of marriage, Severus still rises early just to watch you sleep. He finds a quiet joy in seeing your peaceful face and listening to your gentle, rhythmic breathing.

Then he showers your face with tender kisses, each one a gentle caress that stirs you awake. “Come on, sleepyhead, I need you to brighten up my morning,” he teases with a playful grin. You smile, your eyes still closed, and whisper, “If you keep kissing me like that, I might just drift back to sleep.”

He chuckles, his voice low and teasing. “Then I guess I’ll have to find another way to wake you up.” With a mischievous grin, Severus gently lifts the blanket and straddles you, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes glinting with desire. He then places a soft, lingering kiss between your breasts. “I could listen to you make those sounds all morning,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

You gasp softly, your body arching instinctively. “You’re quite the morning person yourself,” you reply breathlessly, your fingers tracing along his arm.

Severus chuckles again, his lips brushing against your skin. “Just trying to make sure my favorite person starts the day with a smile.”

Suddenly, a loud banging echoes from the living room, jolting both of you. The eerie babbling voice grows louder, inching closer with every passing second. You remain frozen in place, Severus still straddling you, neither of you daring to move. Then, with a deafening crash, the bedroom door bursts open.

As the door bursts open, Minerva’s frustration quickly shifts to enthusiasm. “Oh, Merlin, Albus! I’ve told you —it’s not okay to barge in like this!” she says in a thick Scottish accent.

Albus, looking both apologetic and amused, steps forward. “My deepest apologies for the dramatic entrance. We thought we’d add a bit of excitement to your weekend!”

Filius, grinning mischievously, adds, “Yes, and we figured you’d appreciate a break from whatever ‘important’ thing you were doing. What do you say?”

Severus, still visibly irritated, narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Couldn’t this have waited? We’re in the middle of something.”

Minerva, noticing his frustration, quickly responds, “I’m sorry for the timing. We genuinely wanted to include you both. If you’d prefer, we can give you a moment to finish up.”

Albus, sensing the tension, offers a conciliatory nod. “Indeed. We’ll be outside, plotting our next grand adventure. Let us know if you decide to join.” With that, Albus and Filius step back into the corridor, leaving you and Severus to address the unexpected intrusion.

You groan as you process the sudden commotion, already wide awake. You smack Severus lightly on the arm and exchange a look with him as he smirks and deadpans, “Ah, just what I needed —another one of Albus’s surprise visits.”

“Maybe he’s here to spill the latest Hogwarts scandal,” you chuckle.

Severus raises an eyebrow. “Excellent. I was beginning to think we’d gone out of fashion without a dose of Albus’s chaos.”

With that, you both get up and get dressed, exchanging amused glances as you prepare. As you head out, Severus suddenly grabs your waist and whispers, “If you’re a good girl, I might have a special reward for you when we get home.”

With a playful smile, you head out to join Albus, Filius, and Minerva, who are already on their way to Hogsmeade for butterbeer. As you walk, you can’t help but wonder if this outing will involve anything more dramatic than a few rounds of frothy drinks and some juicy Hogwarts gossip.

As you and Severus head out to join Albus, Minerva, and Filius, the morning’s chaos seems to melt away. The group’s antics at the Three Broomsticks turn the unexpected intrusion into a highlight of the day. Minerva shares a story about Filius’s ill-fated attempt to enchant a teapot to sing, leading to a hilarious off-key performance. Filius, pretending to be offended, vows to get his revenge.

Severus leans in and whispers, “If this is the result of a quiet morning, I’m starting to think we should plan more surprises.”

You laugh and reply, “Only if they involve more butterbeer and less of Albus’s dramatic entrances.”

Just then, Albus, ever the showman, stands up and waves his wand dramatically. “Time for a special treat! Filius is going to try out his latest spell—turning butterbeer into chocolate!”

Filius looks both excited and nervous as he performs the spell, which results in chocolate splattering everywhere. The group erupts in laughter, and even Severus can’t help but join in.

Later, as you and Severus prepare to leave, Severus leans in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, after all this chaos, I think it’s only fair we return the favor.” You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that?”

Severus grins. “I’ve been brewing up a few ideas for some harmless pranks. We could use some clever enchantments to liven things up for Albus and the others.” You laugh, delighted by the idea. “Sounds perfect. Let’s start planning our little revenge. I’m sure they’ll appreciate a bit of extra excitement.”

Hand in hand, you and Severus walk back to Hogwarts, already brainstorming creative pranks and plotting ways to surprise your friends. The day’s chaos has only fueled your excitement for the next round of fun, and you can’t wait to see what mischief lies ahead.

———

As you and Severus reach your shared quarters, you start taking off your outer layer of clothing. Meanwhile, Severus casts a silencing charm and adds extra security to the door to ensure Albus and the gang won’t barge in again. “Can’t have another surprise visit,” he teases with a smirk.

Suddenly, Severus picks you up in a bridal style, making you gasp in surprise. He quickly silences your reaction with a kiss, causing you to moan softly against his lips. With a swift motion, he kicks the bedroom door and gently sets you down on the bed. “I think we’ve earned a little privacy, don’t you?”

Severus takes your chin in one hand and kisses you with desperate urgency, not giving you a chance to speak. His lips press against yours with an intense, unspoken need.

After pulling back, he looks at you with a commanding gaze. “Strip,” he orders. Without hesitation, you slowly unbutton your blouse and trousers, leaving only your underwear.

As you reach to take off your matching black underwear, he swiftly grabs your hand and pins it above your head. “Hold on, baby girl. Let me have some fun first,” he says with a cheeky grin. Severus knows how to be gentle, but in the bedroom, his dominance takes over, keeping you on edge until you’re desperately begging for release—and it only turns you on even more.

Severus presses you into the mattress, his body pinning you down so completely that you can’t move. His hardness presses against your core, and a moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Already, baby?” he murmurs with a sly grin.

“Sevy, please…” you whisper, your voice full of need. It feels so good that you can’t help but slowly grind against his hardness.

A low growl of disapproval escapes him as he tightens his grip. “Did I say you could move?” he asks, his voice stern, making your heart race even more.

“No, Daddy,” you breathe out, your voice trembling with both anticipation and submission.

Hearing those nicknames is enough to make him go feral. With a sudden, fierce need, he releases you and quickly strips off his clothing, his eyes never leaving you.

At the end of the bed, Severus kneels and lifts your legs over his shoulders. As he presses his finger between your legs, he feels your wetness. A satisfied smile spreads across his face. “Already wet, baby girl?” he murmurs. You can’t help but moan at the touch, your anticipation growing with each passing moment.

Severus then moves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening core. His eyes roam over the sight with a mixture of admiration and desire. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he says, his voice full of anticipation as he takes in the view.

After a moment of relentless licking and fingering, Severus has you on the edge, your body drenched in sweat and your voice hoarse from screaming in pleasure. You are soaking the bed beneath you, each touch driving you further into desperation.

“Please, Severus,” you beg, your voice trembling with need. “Just fuck me already.” He smirks, enjoying your agony. “Not yet,” he says, his control unwavering as he refuses to let you come.

When Severus decides he’s had enough of teasing your sweet core, he pulls back with a satisfied smile. He rises to his feet and positions you on your stomach, lifting you effortlessly. As he stands behind you, he pumps his hand slowly along his length, his movements deliberate and teasing. He shifts to brush the head of his cock against your clit, each touch making you gasp. “I want you to feel every inch,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Are you ready for me?”

You nod, arching your back with a sob. “Ready, please,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.

Severus moves with a smooth, steady motion, sinking into you in one long, continuous thrust. He groans into your back as you tighten around him. “You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pleasure. Your entire body seizes, and the world seems to blur as stars burst behind your closed eyes.

As he fucks you hard, driving you to the edge, he asks, “Are you close?” When you can barely manage to respond, he growls, “I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

Desperate and overwhelmed, you cry out, “I’m so close, Severus! Please, let me cum!” With a satisfied growl, he gives you the go-ahead, and you come undone, your body trembling with release.

As Severus pushes you closer to the edge, his movements grow more urgent and intense. His groans are deep and primal, a raw expression of his pleasure. When he finally comes, it is a powerful release, filling you with his warmth. He guides your hips along his cock, making sure both of you feel every ounce of pleasure.

By the time he finishes, you are completely spent, your muscles feeling like jelly from the intense experience. The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as you both catch your breath, exhausted but satisfied.

Severus eases out of you and offers soft kisses and gentle touches to help you come down from the high. He carefully removes your soaked underwear and bra, his movements tender. Warm cloths glide over your sweat-sticky skin, cleaning up all the traces of your earlier intensity. This thoughtful choice makes you love him even more, appreciating how deeply he connects with you.

Severus gently tugs you up to the top of the bed, his hands guiding you with care. Once you are settled, he climbs beneath the blankets beside you, pulling them snugly around the two of you. He wraps an arm around you and whispers, “You were perfect. I love holding you like this. Just being with you makes everything better.”

“Love you,” you whisper tiredly, your voice barely audible. Severus nuzzles closer, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs softly, “I love you too, more than you know.” The intimacy of the moment wraps around you like a cocoon.

As you exchange whispered words of love, a peaceful calm settles over you. Slowly, you both drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

#severus snape #snape x reader #severus snape x #professor snape #snape x y/n #severus snape x y/n #severus x oc #severus fanfic #snape fandom #alan rickman #severus snape x you #severus x reader #harry potter fanfiction

41 notes · View notes

nattule29 · 1 month ago

Text

The benrius kid au !!!!

So...made this thing two weeks ago and dropped it. If I'm gonna continue this or not? idk maybe, might drop it, might redo it, might continue it, who knows

There's a fic under the line

summary: how they found Dhalia :/ about 1,140 words.

btw im not much of a writer and it's not proofread YOUVE BEEN WARNED!

Five years. It’s been five years since this dynamic duo finally came together after navigating denial, hurt, and confusion. Five years since Darius said, "I love you back without the bud."

Darius leaned his head against the newly purchased, yet still old, van, watching the trees blur past in a comforting silence beside his date.

"Beep beep!"

“What was that?”

“Nothing…”

“Ben, we’ve talked about this. You can’t wait until the last minute to fill up the gas tank.”

“Fine. There’s a gas station on the way home; I’ll stop there.”

“Good,” Darius said, leaning back against the window.

Ben released a resigned sigh, a small smile tugging at his lips. He knew better than to argue against Darius; he’d probably jump out of the van if he did.

Tree after tree blurred by until Ben finally pulled into a quaint gas station café. He parked next to the pumps and got out, walking to Darius's side, he opened the car door like a true gentleman.

“Sir?” Ben teased, flashing a playful smile as he extended his hand to Darius. Darius rolled his eyes but took it anyway.

“What? Isn’t this what boyfriends do?” Ben quipped, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Darius felt his ears warm slightly at the word “boyfriend,” and he couldn’t help but smile.

"You're such a goof" Darius’s smile widened, and it lifted Ben’s heart,

Darius decided to head into the café, leaving Ben to take care of the gas tank.

Ben whistled to himself, glancing around, when suddenly he heard a thud followed by a hiss from the side of the café. His curiosity piqued.

“Compys…” he whispered, a hint of dread in his voice. He tried to focus on his task, but another sound caught his attention—a cry? He froze and walked toward the side of the café, where the noise was coming from. There, nestled beside a small, closed box, he spotted the compys scratching at it, drawn in by the faint cooing inside.

“Hey!” Ben shouted, swinging his arm to scare the pesky creatures away.

Ben cautiously opened the box to discover what the compys were so desperately after. His face twisted in shocked confusion as he gasped, “What the-!?”

𓆈𓆌𓆈𓆌𓆈𓆌𓆈𓆌𓆈𓆌𓆈𓆌𓆈𓆌𓆈𓆌𓆈𓆌

"They sell a bunch of nasty compy meat!? So I didint get anything from the cafe, but we can cook up our breakfast for dinner…Hey, you okay?"

“I… I found a baby…” Ben stammered, holding the small cardboard box tightly in his hands, as if afraid it might disappear if he loosened his grip. The tiny creature inside peered up at him, wide-eyed and vulnerable.

Darius’s face twisted in puzzlement. “What do you mean you found a baby—” He leaned closer, peering over the box that Ben held so tightly. “Oh, wh—where did you!? Ben, whose baby is this?!” Darius exclaimed, his voice rising in surprise.

Ben’s shoulders shot up in a shrug, his eyes wide with uncertainty. “I don’t know! It was just there, behind the café!” He looked at Darius, searching for answers as panic started to creep in. His fingers tightened around the box as if he could somehow protect the tiny creature inside.

Darius took a step closer, instinctively reaching out as if to touch the box, but hesitated. “What if it’s hurt? We can’t just leave it here!” His brows knitted together in concern, glancing around as if expecting someone to come rushing out of the café to claim the baby.

Ben’s heart raced. “…so what do we do with it?” His shoulder slumped back down, the weight of the situation settling on him like a heavy cloak.

"I guess we take them home," Darius said, his voice steadying. "Figure out what to do when we get back home…they were obviously abandoned, so no point in finding the parent." He looked down at the tiny creature in sympathy, his expression softening.

“Are you sure?” Ben’s voice was barely above a whisper, his gaze darting from Darius to the baby. “What if it's parents—”

“We can figure that out later. Right now, we need to make sure it’s safe.” Studying the tiny creature peering up at them, its wide eyes glistening with innocence.

As they exchanged worried glances, Ben gently shifted the box closer to Darius. “Can you… can you hold it?”

Darius hesitated for a moment, then nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he took the box. “Okay, but let’s be careful.” He felt a rush of warmth and protectiveness swell in his chest, he tried to push it down.

“Yeah, like it’s made of glass,” Ben chuckled nervously, but his smile faded as he scanned their surroundings again. “What if someone sees us? What if they think we kidnaped a baby and-?”

“Ben, focus.” Darius’s tone was firm but gentle. “We’ll figure out the details later. Let’s get out of here first.”

Ben nodded, casting one last look at the café. A feeling of dread washed over him. They were stepping into uncharted territory, and he had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

___________________________________________

note- if I do continue this I'll continue this on ao3. I don't know if I'll stick with this story or change how they meet.

47 notes · View notes

cultofdixon · 2 years ago

Text

It Takes Two

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Part 2 to “It Takes a Village” • Rick Grimes’ Sister!Reader • You have always been a curious kid. Now so is your kid…and with a certain resident in Alexandria. Who everyone didn’t expect to have a soft side for the young Grimes • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Anxiety Attacks / Nightmares / Injuries / Mentions of Canon Violence / Mentions of Pregnancy / Depression / Past Abuse • Re-Writing Canon

Requested by: Anon

Winter has started, and Alexandria was fuller than ever. They may not know exactly when the holidays were but it was enough to have their families in the Kingdom and Hilltop come to Alexandria. Meaning a lot of kids. But it was perfect…especially the snow.

A small groan escapes the waking child as he lifts his head from his pillow to look out the window and notice the falling snow. That alone ignited the energy he needed to get out of bed and wake up his mom.

His mom who would much rather stay in bed during a cold morning, but her excited four year old alerted not only the Mal living in the house…but the five year old that belonged to the Hilltop residents taking up her guest room.

“Mama!” Shepherd practically yells but Dog jumped on the bed when he got the door open.

“Shep…it’s early”

“It’s snowing!” He smiles running to her side of the bed gripping her blankets and tugging at them until the tired Y/N sat up. Her playful scowl appearing when Dog started to lick her face to help her wake up. “Dog wants to go too!”

“Let me guess…you woke up Hershel too?”

“He’s getting his mommy and daddy right now!” His face lights up with even more excitement as he knows the second he gets his snow gear on he was going to get his cousins next door.

“Get dressed baby and I’ll meet you downstairs” Y/N smiles watching her happy boy run out and Dog following him. “Don’t forget the gloves and beanie!” She adds hearing an ok yelled back before rolling over to the other side of the bed to address the archer that rolled off once he heard Dog’s collar jingling. “I’m gonna get dressed…and head out with Shep. That’ll give you your window”

Daryl groans upon sitting up from the floor feeling Y/N’s lips meet his temple when she leaned over. “He’s startin’ to get up before me”

“He’s going to find out before we even tell him…”

“I promise yea. We’ll get our day” The archer leaned into her kissing her before letting Y/N get dressed and ready.

The two have always had a bond with one another. But it wasn’t until Shep turned 3 that they took the risk. Daryl always loved her and would’ve waited til the end of his life for her. For her to be ready on her terms, but all she needed was for her small family of two to be secure. Safe. And Y/N knew she was safe with the archer and so was her son. Daryl loves her son as if he was his own even if Shepherd doesn’t know their relationship.

For now they kept it between them, and the priority was always going to be Shepherd.

Glenn was the fastest in getting ready next to the kids as he chases Hershel Jr and Shepherd through the snow for a bit while the rest of the Grimes got dressed for the snow day. Maggie stayed on the porch waiting for Y/N while she got Dog in a sweater before letting him join in the chaos.

“Where’s Daryl?” Maggie asks once Y/N stepped out while getting her gloves on.

“I just told him what we were doing so he should be joining us soon. But he’ll be getting Carol and her family, then Aaron and his daughter”

“Can you believe it?” Maggie smiles looking out to the small crowd for now. “We survived and thrived after all that happened”

“It’s surreal for sure” Y/N smiles watching her son gather a snow ball and pelt Dog making the Mal get excited to play ball.

As Shep made his way more down the street running away from the snowballs that were coming from the Rhees then his cousins, he stopped to hear someone curse because of how cold it was. He made his way to the little vent that looked into the room finding their resident prisoner shivering his ass off.

“Mama!”

Y/N immediately turns to her son seeing his frustrated expression which started to worry her.

“What’s wrong baby?” She walks away from the crowd of adults on Rick’s porch to kneel before her son as he struggled to get his words out.

“Th—uh. Uhm. I’m cold”

“Uncle Rick has the fireplace going, the adults were gonna go inside while Carl watches you little ones out here…you wanna come warm up a bit?”

“No! It’s…uhm. Mama…” Shep’s frustration came out in a whine making Y/N sigh a bit before standing up and extending her hand to the small child.

“Lead the way to what you need”

Shep immediately took her hand and pulled her back to their house. Then upstairs to the hall closet that Y/N kept spare blankets in.

“You can’t bring a blanket out in the snow, baby”

“No! It’s for…” Then the little one held a guilty expression which only confused his mother more.

“Shepherd.”

Daryl steps out of the Grimes’ residence when he didn’t find Y/N in there. Then he spotted her carrying blankets while following her son toward the cell. He quickly picked up his crossbow off the porch and ran over to the two.

“Hey, what’s wrong what are y’all doing?” Daryl stops Y/N while Shepherd proceeded.

“Shep heard Negan complaining that he was cold”

“So what?”

“Daryl. I’m not doing anything outside of the council’s guidelines regarding Negan. I’m simply doing what my son wants” Y/N states, and that want being kind toward their prisoner and giving him extra blankets during the winter. “He’s not going to hurt Shep…or me”

“I’m comin’ then”

“If it makes you less helicopter-y” She jokes making her way downstairs and helping Shepherd with the door.

Their presence sort of startled Negan given the door leading outside was never the quietest and the looming archer on the steps made him feel uneasy. But his attention locked onto the Grimes sister handing the blankets to this small child he’s never met before, and for good reason. Negan wanted to stand up and approach the bars but the way Daryl was glaring at him. He stayed put, until the small child approached the bars holding up the blankets.

“You don’t have to”

Shepherd frowns looking up at his mom while hugging the blankets tightly. “But mama I want to…” he said in a hush whisper as Y/N gently pets his head.

“You tell him, baby. Not me”

The little one went back to the bars of the cell looking up at Negan who approached the bars when he looked at his mother.

“But I want to” Now how can anybody ever be mad at that adorable face of his? Negan extended his hands taking the blankets through the bars watching the little one light up.

“Thanks kid…appreciate it”

The young grimes smiles happily before heading back out and instantly running into Daryl. The archer knew what was bound to happen with the child and that was Shep wanting to be picked up by him.

“Can’t say no to him” Y/N smiles receiving a look from the archer indicating that he’d never say no to him wanting to be picked up. Even if the man groaned picking up Shepherd. “Go on ahead. I’ll be a minute”

“Y/N—-“

“Just go. Please”

Daryl can’t say no to the puppy dog eyes, especially when Shepherd gets it from his mother. He nods before carrying Shep out of there leaving Y/N with Negan for a moment.

“You’ve got a nice kid…”

“I really do huh?” Y/N smiles approaching the bars to Negan’s cell as he suddenly started to feel anxious when her smile remained hit her eyes said it all. “So let me make it clear to you, Negan. If you hurt my boy. With your words or even physically, I’ll be doing everyone a favor and ending your life” She hissed glaring at the man watching him nod before leaving the cell.

All the kids were inside warming up and all the little ones were watching Henry show them how to play cards. Go Fish to be exact. While the adults had a drink and catch up.

“Your turn Shepherd” Henry’s voice snapped the kid out of his thoughts as Shep looks at his cards before setting all his cards down to show that he’s been hogging pairs but more specifically to leave the small table to go to his mom.

“He’s a card shark” Judith states not knowing exactly what that means.

“That’s…used in a different game? But I guess that works here” Henry laughs collecting the cards and shuffling the deck.

“Mama…” Shep whispers to get Y/N’s attention while Rick was telling Maggie about how he and Michonne were thinking of taking a trip. Y/N sets her glass down turning to her son and his upset expression. “I wanna go home…”

“Are you okay?” She whispers back not wanting to cause alarm or interrupt the on going conversation.

“No…” He whines in his whisper hugging Y/N’s leg. He relaxed a little when his mother rubbed circles on his back. “Can we go?”

“Yes, go get your shoes and coat on” Y/N got up from her seat once Shep ran over to where all the shoes were. “I’m turning in guys”

“Really?” Rick frowns, it wasn’t that late. Even for the kids.

“Yeah, Shep’s gettin’ tired and the alcohol isn’t sitting right with me.” Y/N left after saying such to get her coat on and pick up her son who instantly latched onto her.

“We’ll be quiet when we turn in” Maggie makes one last comment watching Y/N smile before stepping out with Dog also joining the two.

While the three made their way home, Shep tugged at Y/N’s coat when her attention was already on him.

“Forget somethi—-“

“Why is he down there, mama?” Shep frowns watching her face soften but also worry for she doesn’t know how to approach that conversation without going too far.

“He did something bad, Shepherd…that’s why he’s down there”

“But I do bad things too…like leave my shoes out for Dog to chew and you get mad…”

“It’s…uh” Y/N frowns setting Shepherd down on their porch to sit as she sat beside him. “You’re too young to understand the kind of bad things he did before you were born…”

“…can you try?”

How do you go telling a four year old about the abuse his mother endured done by that terrible man? Or the abuse Daryl, someone he looks up to, has gone through…the horrors of the Saviors threatening to kill members of their family…

You just. Don’t.

“He hurt people, Shep. In a way I can’t tell you…”

Shepherd frowns bringing himself closer to his mom leaning against her.

“Did he hurt you, mama…?”

Y/N didn’t say another word as she was fighting back tears when thinking about it. All she did was bring her son into his embrace holding onto him like her light depended on it. And part of him knew. Even if he didn’t understand.

Once it was late enough, Daryl came upstairs to check on Y/N thinking Shepherd would be in his room but entering the room he noticed the little one curled up in his mother’s embrace. He still brought himself to sit on the edge of the bed resting his hand on her shoulder watching her turn slowly to him revealing tears in her eyes.

“What happened?” He whispers watching her turn back to her son as Shepherd unconsciously scooted closer in her embrace.

“…I’m triggered D. It’s hard to sleep” She whispers back feeling Shep shift once more, enough to pull away from her and star fish on the rest of her bed. Giving her enough space to turn onto her back looking up at Daryl as he carefully wipes away her tears. “I know they don’t stay little and overwhelmingly kind forever…but I don’t want him taking that away from my baby”

“He won’t. I promise yea” Daryl frowns giving her enough space to sit up and hug him. He held her for as long as she needed.

“Remember, listen to Uncle Rick and stay out of trouble” Y/N tells Shep who didn’t want his mom to go on the hunting trip with Daryl and Carol. “I’ll be back before you know it”

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“You will buddy, when you’re a bit older” Daryl ruffle his hair a bit before Shep latched onto his leg. “Aw come on, bud”

“Please don’t go…”

It was spring, which meant more hunting trips. Shepherd didn’t mind when it was one of the two leaving, but they both were going on this one and he didn’t like it one bit.

“We’ll be back before you know it, Shep. I promise” Y/N knelt down for her son to hug her tightly once more.

Before watching the three go from Rick’s porch.

The agenda for the first day was boring. Or to Shepherd a bit boring. He loves helping when given the chance to but he doesn’t like working on the farm unless it was with his mom. Because they would play “I Spy” while collecting the crops and help him with his counting when putting in new seeds. Rick knew about this and was trying to do it with Shep, but that’s another thing. He only likes doing it with his mom. Otherwise he just helps tug the basket along while Rick cleans up the dead plants and getting the soil ready for new seeds.

“You okay Shep?”

“Can I go get water?”

Rick sighs nodding with a smile. “Be back quick. And get me a glass too”

Shepherd smiles setting the basket down by his uncle before leaving the farm and heading back toward the houses. Except after he got his uncle a canteen instead of a glass, because Michonne stopped him in the middle of her conversation with Siddiq and Gabriel to switch the glass with a canteen since the kid can be clumsy, Shepherd was given a second one for himself but instead of using it for himself.

Negan froze to the sound of said canteen falling onto the concrete floor. It’s sturdy so it didn’t crack or anything. He looks up through the vents to see Shepherd looking back at him before running back to his uncle.

Once the chores Rick had were done and the help of tidying up done by both him and Shepherd, the two made their way back to Rick’s place for dinner and then turning in. Shepherd was set up in the spare in their place which had a grown ups bed and not his low toddler one.

Shep couldn’t sleep, and can’t ever when his mom wasn’t home in any way. She could be standing somewhere else in Alexandria and he’d be able to sleep. He pushed his blankets off of him and maneuvered his body on the edge of the bed so his feet were first to hit the floor but it was still a bit too high that he fell anyway. The little one didn’t want to alert anyone given he went to bed around the same time as his cousins, but the adults could still be awake.

The little one has been spending a lot of time with Daryl.

Because Shepherd managed to get out of the house through the doggy door in the kitchen while the adults (Rick and Michonne) were in the living room. Thank god he was small enough or that would be a very uncomfortable conversation telling Y/N her son got stuck in the doggy door.

The resident prisoner heard footsteps draw closer, followed by a whine that Negan can only connect to Dog. So it must’ve been Daryl but when Shepherd came into view by the vent sitting beside it and Dog laying next to him, Negan only grew more confused.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“How do you know when bedtime is?” Shepherd looks at him confused leaving the man stumped.

“Forget it. Your mom will kill me if she finds you here. Hell even your uncle or whatever Daryl is to yea”

“He uh…uhm. Just Daryl?” The confusion in his tone made Negan a bit curious about the two’s relationship since he thinks Shep probably doesn’t know that his mom and Daryl are seeing each other. He wasn’t about to put them in any way.

“Are you close with Daryl? Like how you are with your uncle Rick?”

“I don’t know”

“What do you mean?” Negan brought himself to sit on the floor against the wall where the vent was as Shepherd sat on the small grass patch by the vent with Dog surrounding him.

“I used to call him Uncle Daryl…but something happened” Shep tugged at the grass while he spoke. “He was there for me when I’m sad. Helped me with my shoelaces. Get my sippy cups from the high shelves. Patch my boo boos. Let me sit with him while he works on his bike. Other things that Uncle Rick doesn’t do with me”

“You see him as a dad?” Negan’s question was met with silence. “What would your old man think?”

“I don’t have a dad”

If he starts crying, better start digging your grave Negan thought as he was prepared for tears but was met with a sigh instead.

“Mama says I never had one. But I always saw Daryl as one” Shepherd frowns as he stops tugging at the grass seeing the damage he has done. “Is that bad?”

“What? Seeing Daryl as your dad?”

“Yeah…”

“Well. He helps with your boo boos. I think that’s pretty much dad material…when I taught PE which was just watching a bunch of kids in a yard to get rid of the energy in’em, some kids would stumble. Cry. Get banged up by either concrete or a plastic bat. I wouldn’t know what to do and pull a teacher move with the whole “go to the nurse” when most nurses in schools back in my day didn’t do a very good job”

“That’s bad”

“Real bad. But I just pawned the problem off to somebody else. Daryl? He takes care of yea. Would do about anythin’ for yea. I don’t see a problem in calling him dad.” Negan shrugs. “But that’s a conversation for your mom. And then Daryl”

Shepherd was about to ask another question when he heard his name being called. Negan heard it as well and rose to his feet going toward the vent to look at Shep.

“You better go back before he gets worried”

“ok, goodnight”

“Night kid” Negan states hearing the tussle of his footsteps and the dog getting up with him before it faded away.

The next morning came and Negan woke to the sound of the outside door opening. Maybe it was confessional day but to his surprise he saw Shepherd coming down the steps with Michonne. Michonne came down for other business while Shepherd carried drawing supplies to distract him from their conversation. But some part of him knew that Negan enjoyed the company.

“Well good mornin’ to y’all”

“Good morning” Shepherd instantly replies back before sitting on the ground and dropping all of his supplies while Michonne took the chair bringing it to the bars of his cell.

“The council is holding a meeting about you soon”

“Oh wonderful” Negan frowns sitting back on his bed leaning against the wall. “What about?”

“Well. One, Y/N thought you should have warmer items in here for the future winters.” Michonne pointed with her eyes to Shepherd as it was really his idea being told through his mom. “Second, we were thinking you could actually do stuff around Alexandria. It won’t mean you’re instantly free. More so—-“

“Community service and I come back here once I’m done for the day? You’re really trustin’ me with that?”

“Why not?” Shepherd chimes in seeing confused looks as Michonne gave Negan a warning one mainly for his words.

“Nobody trusts me, Shep. Which in this case makes sense…but imagine being untrustworthy and being given chores around the other residents” Negan states while approaching the cell bars and sitting on his side across from Shepherd.

“Mama doesn’t trust me around Daryl’s crossbow. Is it like that?”

“Sort of. But your mama must’ve said I’m a bad dude”

“Yeah?”

“That’s why I’m questioning if Michonne here trusts me enough to do chores around the place without causing trouble”

“Can’t he just be watched when he’s not locked up, auntie?” Shep looks up at his aunt with a small smile as Michonne took note of that because it’s not a bad idea.

“You’re not manipulating him to say these things right?” Michonne questions Negan as she watches Shepherd bring himself close with a piece of paper and a few crayons handing one to Negan to play tic tac toe with him. Negan kept a distance but did play with the kid through the bars.

“From the time Y/N lived at the Sanctuary, yeah she was defensive to me but to everybody else who weren’t part of my troop. More like the other residents…she was overwhelmingly kind. Stood up for those who needed it, even if there were consequences…but just. She was too damn kind to everybody in that shitshow—-“

“Language” Both Shepherd and Michonne state hearing Negan apologize before letting Shep win the game.

“This boy has her kind side. It’s all him”

The council decided to let Negan work around Alexandria with a handful of chores each day and at least one day where he’s remaining in his cell. The one watching him changes every day, like it used to be. Unlike when he would be checked in on every other hour when he remained in his cell.

His help was much needed during the summer. And not just for chores.

Judith was playing with Gracie in the gardens while their dads were working on the nearby walls to do the yearly maintenance on the structures. While Shepherd’s mom helped in the actual gardens with Negan, meaning Y/N was on Negan duty and Shep was also around helping. But once he told his mom he was going to ask his cousin if he could play with them, her line of sight was no longer on him for a short time.

“You’re cutting too close to the main stem”

“My bad, hey where’s that rugrat? He said he’d help separate the tomatoes with the good and bad ones”

“He wanted to play with his cousin. I’ll separate them when I wash them once we’re done” Y/N states picking up the full basket and setting it on the table Daryl placed for them.

“Judith his cousin right?” Negan asks hearing a ‘yes’ from the boy’s mom as he turns around to where he knew the girls were playing when they first started harvesting. “Then where is he?”

“What?” Her tone changed instantly as she turns around to look at the two girls. “Where could he have gone…” she tried to remain calm hopefully when she got closer to the two girls that Shepherd would appear in her line of sight but he hasn’t.

“Aunt Y/N?” Judith questions her presence and a sense of regret rose in her. “Uhm. Where’s Shepherd?”

“I should be asking you that Judith.” The sternness made those working around them come to a slow stop. “Shepherd wanted to play with you, but he’s not here. So what did you say to my son?”

“Y/N. Woah, tone it back”

“I’m sorry Rick but I’m not.” Y/N bites. “It’s only been ten minutes and my son hasn’t turned up to my voice. He could’ve gotten out and be lost out there. Or got stuck somewhere here. While you’re handling dangerous stuff.”

“He’ll turn up, sis. He couldn’t have gotten far”

“He wouldn’t have wandered off if your daughter wasn’t mean and told my son he couldn’t play with her!”

“Don’t blame this on Jude. You’re too busy keeping an eye and being nice with the prisoner that it’s your own damn fault for losing sight of your son” Rick snaps back and the regret didn’t set in until Y/N retracted herself away with that same anxious sad look on her face when she was taken by the Saviors. “Shit…”

“Dad…” Judith frowns looking up at her dad. “I told him he couldn’t play with us. I-I didn’t think he would run away”

“He didn’t run away, hun. He’ll turn up” Rick frowns about to ask Aaron to watch the girls when he watched him take his gloves off.

“I’m gonna grab Daryl and help Y/N find Shepherd, Gracie…” Aaron kneels to his daughter. “Stay with these Grimes. Okay?” He smiles when she nods before getting up and heading off.

“Aaron I—-“

“I think you need to sit with what you said to your sister. You’ve done plenty” Aaron gave him a pity smile before going to help his sister.

While the commotion was happening, Negan knew he had to go back to his cell if his watcher wasn’t going to watch him. But to his surprise, he found the currently sobbing child in his open cell knowing it would be the last place his mom would look for him.

“Hey kiddo…” Negan frowns moving to sit on the cot of his bed as Shepherd hid under a blanket right beside it. His little grass stained shoes peeking out gave him away. “Want to tell me what happened up there?”

“No…”

“Mm. You’re gonna have to tell your ma regardless. Just thought you’d want a friend” He states watching the blanket move to show his crying face as he looks over to him.

“Jude told me I couldn’t play with her cause I’m a baby” Shep frowns sniffling. “I’m not a baby, I’m four”

“Practically an adult” Negan states leaning against the wall. “She wasn’t thinkin’”

“She never thinks…Uncle Rick doesn’t either”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Of course there was more to it…

“He talks about mama behind her back…when she’s on her trips that aren’t safe for me” Shepherd frowns curling up as much as he could. “How she was stupid…to have me grow up without a dad…that she shouldn’t do anything without me cause she signed up for that…” the tears kept coming as his lip wobbles. “Am I a mistake…? Did mama make a mistake in having me? Not letting me have a dad?”

“Woah” Negan brought himself up and off the cot bringing himself to sit beside the kid. “I’m gonna be honest with you. If your mama didn’t want you, you wouldn’t be here. And your uncle was only thinking of himself when he said that. Cuz if you were my nephew, I would be stoked to hang out with yea. And this whole dad crap? Is bullshit”

“Language…”

“Whatever. Because you have a village. A huge family. You don’t need a dad. But you have one and we had this discussion before. Besides. Your mom? Loves you so much, hell enough for two parents, even beyond that. When she’d be walking the streets on a late return home, you’re the only thing she’s talking about to whoever she went on the trip with. And hell! You’re one of the greatest things to happen to her that it would have to take knocking her out to have her shut up about how much she loves yea.”

The little one continued to cry but he was smiling and felt a bit better to his words.

“Plus. The whole dad thing? Those guys hover a lot when they’re worried about their kid.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah and I KNOW. FOR A FACT” Negan yells emphasizing who’s eavesdropping. “THAT HES NOT LETTING HIMSELF BE KNOWN RIGHT NOW.”

The sigh didn’t go unnoticed when Daryl made his way down the steps with a worried look on his face. But he also wasn’t accompanied by Y/N, so he heard everything Shepherd said including the part about Rick.

“See? A dad. Don’t matter if he’s blood or not. And between you and me” Negan started to whisper to Shepherd as he leaned in. “You scored on the dad front, already scored with the mom. So double points” his words got a giggle out of the child that rose to his feet ditching the blanket and making his way to Daryl who knelt to be his level. But Shepherd stopped a second turning to Negan.

“Thanks Negan…”

“Anytime kid. Now go find your mom, before she flips Alexandria over just to find yea”

“He’s right on that. She will” Daryl smiles warmly and the warmth grew in his chest when Shepherd wrapped his arms around him making the archer instinctively pick him up. “…thanks” he tells Negan receiving a thumbs up from the guy before heading out with his son.

As the two made their way toward the running worried filled mother that came their way. Y/N started sobbing on sight instantly taking Shepherd into her embrace giving Daryl a thankful look.

“I’m sorry mama”

“No baby it’s okay…you just scared me a little” Y/N cries holding him close as Shep pushes back a bit so that he could wipe away her tears. “You care too much about me, baby”

“I wanna, mama” Shepherd gave a small smile when she kissed his cheek. “Can we go home?”

“Yes, yes we can…we can go home and hang out. Just you and me”

“And dad” Shepherd pointed to Daryl as that was the first time he referred to the archer as such that he tried to compose himself even if Y/N didn’t he bother trying to compose herself.

“Yeah” Y/N smiles through the tears extending her free hand, holding Shep up with her other arm, feeling Daryl instantly take it into his.

And dad.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #tumblr tries to test my ability for how long I can write these things #daryl dixon fanfiction

311 notes · View notes

zweetpea · 1 year ago

Text

Zhongli x reader The Dragon of Geo (Spicy, no smut)

Summary:

The classic tale of a young lady and a dragon, but with a twist. AU no deities, or Tevat (I’ll still use Liyue and the Qixing just for convenience), no Archons. And I made Shenhe an Adepti because I thought that thematically it fit better. Also female reader.

Notes:

Warning: not for the kiddos! Has foul language and mentions of heat and breeding. And if you want me to write you smut based of the sultry scene feel free to ask.

Feel free to request any genshin ideas

Ao3 version here

Once upon a great beast roamed the sky. His scales, as brown as mud yet they sparkled like crystals. His hair as thick and shiny as gold yet it was softer than silk. His claws as sharp as rocks yet somehow held a gentleness reserved for the mortals of his land. And did he ever love his mortals. Hewent by many names, Rex Lapis, The Great One, Mighty Dragon of Geo, the children often called him Zhongli, but my favorite name for him has always been Morax. Something about it just presented power and authority. To me it screamed “I am your protector! You are mine to love! Though the seasons may change and life caries on for mortals, I will be here to protect you always!”

But those were the foolish wishes of a young girl who knew nothing of the world. A girl who was enchanted by the glimmer told to her as a child to keep her innocent.

He protected us for a millennia, but a century ago he decreed that unless he was given a bride by sunset he would ravage the land. The Qixing gathered everyone together to see if there was anyone who was willing to go. In the end they had to draw up a lottery since no one volunteered. Five years later he demanded another girl. And another after another five years. Some mothers or sisters left instead to protect their family, some had to be carried away screamed and crying. When I was fifteen years old I even witnessed a girl ask that she be escorted there in a carriage with a beautiful white dress. She was convinced that she was going to die and wanted to be pampered and treated like a princess in her last minutes.

I was never convinced that he ate them. I thought that they were a part of his harem and he got bored with them eventually. But it was undignified and unlawful to let a woman marry a man after she had been deflowered, lest she be a widow.

Anyway, it’s now five years later. Liyue is waiting on a letter from one of the four Illuminated Beast. This time 15 years ago Xiao came. He was a beautiful black and teal eagle (A/n: Don’t question the animal forms). 10 years ago Yanfei a lovely salmon pink deer came. 5 years ago an adorable little blue goat named Ganyu arrived with the letter. So this year should be the elegant white crane Shenhe.

Right on time she flys down with the letter in her mouth. I inform her of my name, how I knew her and the other Adepti’s name. “Don’t worry Shenhe, there’s is no need to go back to the others. I’ve been informed that I should wait here until the letter arrives and if it never came I was to return at the end of the day. I am the new bride of the dragon of Geo.”

Well truth be told the reason that I didn’t want to go back to the others was because I had a plan to stop all of this. In the back of my traditional dress I hid a dagger. I’m not much of a fighter but I figured... someone had to try? I guess? I dressed modestly as I figured that he would like it enough to not eat me immediately. If I died in battle I was going to take down Rex Lapis. I don’t need the praise, and I just want my people to live peacefully oblivious lives. In a few centuries this nightmare will become folk lore. A cautionary tale to spook children into being good. It’s finally going to end. I wonder if they’d get most of the details accurate, maybe they’d try to scope out the cave to try and find more details.

We walk out to the middle of the wild and into the mountains. The cave of the beast. Surprisingly it had doors. They’re beautifully sculpted and chiseled with various pattern that made me stop and gape at them in awe.

“This way, young one.” Shenhe motions with her wing. The doors open slowly and I enter the unnatural dark cave.

Once they close lanterns illuminate the corridor and standing before me was a gorgeous woman with long white hair that fades to black at the end, tied in a beautiful braid. “Who...?”

“Right my apologies. It’s still me Shenhe. In the cave myself, Xiao, Ganyu, and Yanfei take on more human characteristics. Come on, we mustn’t keep the master waiting.”

She leads me to the end of the corridor and into a large room. It looks like it had to be a thrown room due to the throne at the far back on top of a short flight of stairs but it feels as if someone could throw a party in here.

“Shenhe. You’ve returned earlier than usual.” A deep voice from behind a burgundy curtain called. His glowing gold eyes peer through the semitransparent cloth. She kneels to him once we reach the bottom of the stairs.

“The mortals came prepared, this time.” She informs the man on the throne. Gold and brown plush pillows surround him as he lay there waiting for his next plaything.

I kneel too to show him that I am as loyal and docile as his servants. “Shenhe you are dismissed.” She exits the room and he rises from his throne and draws back the curtains. “Rise my bride. Rise and look at me.” I do as he commands. I gape with wide eyes at the man before me. Long thick black hair pulled back in a ponytail, he had on a strange white outfit that showed off his chest and yet was like a skirt at the bottom. His arms were black at the shoulder and gradients to a yellow at his hands, I wonder if that was natural or part of his clothes. He starts to descend towards me as I’m standing there like an idiot. He chuckles, his voice even more sultry. “Like a little bunny caught in her predictors sight.” In the blink of an eye he’s behind me, holding my dagger to my throat. His hood most likely fell off as he dashed for me. “You are the only one who has ever tried to kill me. Others have begged or tried to bargain. Some I’ve even fed to Xiao because they only cared about the prestige of becoming my wife.”

“Your eyes... the legends and one own imagination cannot do them justice. I’ve imagined them thousands of times. How could I have hated these beautiful ambers for five years?” I looked up at him as he leaned over me.

“Excuse me? Did you just ignore what I said? Maybe I wasn’t clear enough. Women who try to seduce me are fed to my servants.”

I’m off in lala land and can’t fully register his word. “My father’s probably told me your legend 100 times when I was younger. If you’re going to kill me please let me die with your eyes being the last sight I see.”

“100 times? I could never fathom hearing something 20 times let alone that many.”

“Ironically I am your 20th bride.”

“Do you think that makes you special?”

“That’s for you to decide. Are those horns real?” His horns came up from his head and slanted back then curled back towards the front. I turned around in his hold.

“Yes they are, and they’re vERY—” He cuts himself off as I grab his horn. He groans at the contact dropping my dagger, it clangs as it reaches the ground. “—Sensitive.” He grabs my hips and nearly grinds our waists together. He breathing is heavy as he layers his head on my neck and guides me up the stairs. I almost trip a few times as I have to walk backwards. “If you ever do that again, you won’t be walking for a week.” He pushes me down on his throne. He pins my hands above me.

“Was- was that supposed to be as erotic as you made it sound?” My face feels hot and is undoubtedly red.

He looks at me surprised and then angry. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t take you right here, or better yet call in the Adepti to watch as I fuck you dumb on my cock like the whore that you are?”

“Morax, I know that you probably won’t care but I’d like to ask you a question before you deflower me.”

He looks a bit surprised, probably because of the name I called him by. “... this better be good.”

“Why did you ask for a bride?”

“Why? Why?! I don’t have to tell you anything!!”

“Okay. I’m ready.” I say nonchalantly. This caught him off guard.

“Excuse me.”

“You granted me my question, and from the stories I’ve been told Morax keeps his word. You told me you were going to torture the poor Adepti by forcing them to watch us propagate.”

“Do you just believe everything that you’ve been told or read in a book?” His face like the fabled Jueyun Chili’s.

“I was actually also wondering about those stories. But you’ve only permitted me with one question, so I guess I’ll never know.”

“If you were so curious about me why’d you try to kill me?” He lets me sit up.

“I mean, you are quite well known for your brides going missing and never coming back. It would be stupid not to have some kind of protection, whether or not it would work is a whole different argument. I figured that if for some reason I changed my mind I should still have some protection.”

He smirks at me. “I don’t think that’s you wanting to kill me is the truth. Not anymore at least. You wanted to convince yourself that you would be the hero. But what you really wanted was answers. Answers to the questions that you’ve been tossing and turning in your sleep about. I can see it in your eyes. The was they sparkled when you went to grab my horns. The way you looked over my body as I came closer to you just a few minutes ago. The way you were ready to use your last boon on something that should be so innocent, just so that you could get the answers that were just eating you alive.”

Could he really read you like an open book? One with the letter printed big and bold? “Okay, you forced me to face a truth I really didn’t want to confront. What does this mean now? You know that I won’t try to kill you, you know that I don’t want your power, and you know that I’m not gonna beg for my life or try to bargain for the sake of Liyue. So what will you do now?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone who’s interested in history and my stories stumble into my life. I’d like to keep you around for now.”

“What happens when you don’t want me anymore?” He walks back to where he dropped my dagger and comes back with it. He makes a slit on his palm and smeared the golden blood on my forehead in a single line.

“I make this contract to you that should I get bored of you that you may leave this place and never return. Once you wash off my blood the contract with solidify.”

(A/n: just go with it)

“Well what happens if you take my virginity then get bored of me? It wouldn’t be proper for me to marry another.”

He makes another slit on his palm as the first healed already. Then drags another line across my forehead. “If I am to take you, let our first contract become null and void and I will make you my wife.”

“Does this mean that I may ask you anything that I want?” My eyes widened probably sparkling.

He chuckles. “How about you go explore while I um... ahem, straighten up.” He gestures to the tent in his pants.

I blush and look away. “Right! So Um, bye!” I run from the room to the door on the left of the main entrance to the throne room.

<><;><><>

I didn’t see him again until dusk that same day. I got well acquainted with the rest of the rest of the adepti in their human forms. I also found water to wash off his blood. He found me wandering around and brought me to a bedroom.

“This will be your room. Mine is just across the way if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it. This is my only article of clothing and if we were in the same room then I’d be too overwhelmed by that little body of you little bunny to resist.”

“Um, will I have more than one piece of clothing?”

“I’ve already asked Shenhe to get your clothes from your father. I believe that some of the other citizens have given you presents as well. Something about this being a change for the better.”

“They probably think that if I’m moving my clothes here that you’ve accepted me and won’t seek another bride at least for a few decades.”

“By then who knows what invention they will make to stop me. I might be done for.”

“I don’t think so. You’re the oldest documented creature in the world!”

“And yet you still wonder why I want a bride.”

“Your lonely?” He goes into his own room and closes and locks the door. “But what about the Adepti!”

“Good night bunny.” He says through the door.

“That not my name!” I shout my name to him.

<><;><><>

3rd person POV

When Shenhe reached Liyue she was confused about the what the people were doing. Most were celebrating. But there was a lone man in the background shaking and trying to stay calm. When she arrived the celebration stopped dead in its tracks and everyone looked panicked.

“Where is the new brides father?” No one new who she was talking about so she informed them that a new bride had offered herself up. The brides father steps up to Shenhe and asked what happened to his daughter. She asks for your clothes and tells everyone that the girl was alive and well.

After that everyone ran back to their homes and grabbed something nice to give her for the new bride. They all tagged the gifts so the bride knew, who gave her what.

<><;><><>

1st person POV

I found the gifts in my room. Very pleasant silk clothes and finely made hair pins, combs and brushes. A few even sent toys. ‘Wait, they think...’ I thought as my face heated up. ‘No, no. Get those disgusting perverted thoughts out of your head girl! He’s just keeping you around for entertainment!’

<><;><><>

The next day at breakfast I started asking him questions.

“So if you only fed a few to Xiao what happened to the rest?”

“Well I either got tired of their nonsense and killed them or they ate a Jueyun chili and died. The ones I fed to Xiao I turned into mice first. And the rest of them who left behind bodies were buried.”

“They’re real? Jueyun Chili’s I mean.”

“Of course.”

“Are they really as hot as a thousand fires?”

“Oh no, it’s more like ten thousand.” He chuckles.

“Are you making fun of me? I really am curious!”

“I know. You’re just too cute Little Bunny.” He smirks. “They are spicy enough to kill a mortal with a single bite. Even the smallest nibble would kill a fragile soul.”

“Are you going to set a limit to how many questions I get to ask you per day?”

“Why would I do that? That would just restrict my fun!”

“I just don’t want to make you annoyed.”

“You are very interested Little Bunny.” He chuckles again, as I blush.

“Are your arms... naturally like that?”

“Yes.

...it’s how I look because I my dragon form.”

“Right, Shenhe mentioned that in this cave you all transformed into human like beings. Why is that? What is it about this cave that allows you to transform.”

“I was the only one able to shape shift. They all longed to have the ability to have a human form. I carved these halls and cast a spell over this place that allows them to transform into whatever human form they desire.”

“I’m happy for them!”

“As am I.”

<><;><><>

After a four months I was still living with them and it was reaching near my birthday.

“Hello Morax! Do you want to know why today is so special for me!”

“I’ll bite, why?”

“I’m 21 today! It’s my birthday!”

“Birthday?” He looks confused.

“Well yeah! Mortals have this tradition called a birthday where we celebrate the day that we were born and how many years we’ve been alive!”

“Well good Birthday to you then.”

“Silly! Mortals say happy birthday and whoever is having the birthday receives presents. So can yours be you telling me stories from the millennia that you protected Liyue? Please?”

He looks at me like I’m crazy. “You are certainly interesting. You can ask for anything and you ask for that?”

“I wasn’t sure that if I asked any other day that you would tell me stories.” I look down in embarrassing.

He pulls me onto his lap as he sits on his throne. “I’ll tell you anything that you want if you tell me what else you want for your birthday.”

“Um, well I guess... the only other thing that I’d want is to maybe go outside. Only for an hour or two. It’s just, I haven’t been out since I moved in and I’d like some natural sunlight.”

“I’ll do you one better. As long as myself or one of the Adepti are with you, you can go out anytime.”

“Really?” My eyes shine brightly. He nods. “Thank you so much!” I squeal and hug him, as well as giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Do you want to go now?”

“Just let me hug you a little longer.” I request a bit embarrassed.

<><;><><>

It’s getting close to a year now and I’ve noticed that Morax seems withdrawn from me.

“Hey. Morax? Rex Lapis? Zhongli? Are you okay?” I knock on his door and don’t get a reply. Xiao is walking past when he decides to pull me away from his masters room. “Hey what was that for?”

“You’ve made it farther than most. Except for one. Guizhong, the first bride.”

“What happened to her?”

“The legends you’ve been told are wrong. Guizhong offered herself to the master. She was much like you. Curious, fearless, trusting but not naive, but the biggest difference is that she could tell him to back off. You just let him tease you like a masochist.”

“Okay so why isn’t she here?”

“He had never had a lover before, he was possessive over her. And as time went on she started to hate him. And she flung herself off of the balcony in his room.”

“Oh my goodness, poor Morax.”

“On top of all of that she was his first love.”

“Xiao please, help me get in there! I want to let him know that I won’t leave him! That I want to stay with him!”

“Luckily I have the only other key to the masters room. I have to warn you though, he’ll be in his dragon form but it’ll be only a tenth his true forms size.” He unlocks the door and I rush in to the lavish room. It’s the most beautiful room in his palace. He lays motionless in his dragon form. Around his bed. In this form he huge. 50 feet long, brown scales, gold locks and curly horns. The legends really don’t do his majestic beauty justice.

I rush to his side and hug his head in my arms. He’s very thick though so I can’t get my hands all the way around. “I’m here, and I’m not going to leave you. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

He lets out a small roar, something akin to a whimper.

<><;><><>

I’m in my fifth year staying with Morax, and I’m madly in love with him.

On this wonderful day all of the Adepti are running around the hall in a panic.

“Ganyu what’s going on?”

“Well um... maybe you should stay in your room for a few days to about a week... and lock the door... and hide if someone tries to come in.”

“Ganyu, where is Morax?”

“Please for your own safety stay away from the master this week.”

“But-” before I could ask her anymore questions she rushed off. ‘Morax what are you hiding?’ I thought. I know that it’s rude to go into someone’s room without their permission but I am supposed to be his bride so surely an exception can be made just this once.

I slip through the door and the room is almost pitch black save for a few candles. His balcony door is closed and his curtains are drawn. I hear rustling around the room and feel arms snake around my waist. “What are you doing here, my cute little bunny?” Morax’s voice sounds strained, and yet hungry. Husky and low and so sultry. As he spoke that into my ear his hot breath hitting the shell I almost melted right there.

“Morax? What’s going on?”

“Seems there are stories that even my little scholar doesn’t know. Once every 100 years or so I go into heat, it’s a time period called breeding season. You seem so ravenous right now.” He groans in my ear and suddenly I feel my underwear becoming damp. “Don’t you know how rude it is to enter someone’s room without knocking? I think that you need to be punished.”

A small squeak was all I could muster as he threw me over his shoulder and walked me over to his bed. He dropped me down onto it and made quick work in getting rid of my clothes, leaving me in only my underwear.

“Naughty little thing aren’t you.” He teased as he felt my slit through my underwear.

“Morax, please. Stop teasing me, and just fuck me.” I whimper.

“Eager are we?” He smirks.

“I really love you and I want this. Please, let me help you. I want to help you, I want you!”

He blushes at my confession and gently smiles at me. “Whatever my love wants, she will get.”

<><;><><>

“Do you think that I’m pregnant?”

“I’m not sure. I fucked you good though.” He teased.

“Yeah and I can’t feel my legs.” I deadpan.

“What a shame. Looks like you can’t leave then.” He snuggles closer to me as the week of his breeding period is over.

“I love you.” I tell him.

“I know you’ve practically chanted it this entire week.”

“Well you better get used to it because you promised to marry me if we had sex.”

“I’ve known for a while now that I wanted to marry you.”

“Does that mean that I can touch your horns whenever I want?”

“Didn’t you get enough of that this week?”

“I like your horns, I find them very cute and so smooth.” I smile as he flushes red.

“Given the chance to become immortal and live with me forever, would you take it?”

“Staying young with you forever? Yes please, where do I get this immortality?”

��The Valberry. A single bite will give you keep you young forever and you will get to be with me, forever.”

“Really? Screw til death do us part! I want you to myself forever!”

<><;><><>

“Do you Rex Lapis, The Great One, Mighty Dragon of Geo, Zhongli, Morax, take this woman to be your wife for eternity?” Yanfei asks.

“I do.”

“And do you-”

“I do!”

“She doesn’t even need to think about it, that’s what I like to hear! I now pronounce you husband and wife.” We embrace is a long loving kiss.

All of Liyue cheers at the sight of their protector finally being satisfied.

After the wedding we went back to the palace and Morax lays me down on our bed and crawls on top of me.

“I hope you’re ready for me to fuck a baby into you.” He licks his lips with his long dragon tongue.

“We don’t have to rush anything we’ve got all this time in the world.” I smirk at him.

“I am your protector. You are mine to love. Though the seasons may change and life caries on for mortals, I will be here to protect you always. I love you bunny.”

“I love you too Morax.”

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact #genshin impact zhongli #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #Genshin Zhongli x you #Genshin Zhongli x y/n

93 notes · View notes