#he’s going to be in town next weekend and i said i would meet him for lunch

[fromcainwithlove]

.

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

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Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[najenvhs]

hi sweetheart🫶

can I request bff!mark + dry humping while watching movies

mdi ! afab reader ! (i love this hehehe)

you and mark always have sleepovers, watching movie playing games listing to music. your families were super close and the both of you grew up together, but since your parents were out of town for the weekend you invited mark over

“so we are rewatching Spiderman right?��� mark asks half as a joke but you know he’s serious.

“we watched that like a couple weeks ago” you sigh to yourself as you were in the kitchen making popcorn, you love the movies but you you’ve had enough.

“listen how about for a change we watch a girlie movie” you say with a smile on your face.

“fine, but next movie i call being a spider man movie” mark says rolling his eyes.

the thing is girlie (romcoms/ romance) movies always get you a little horny… they are always so cute and always about finding the one you will love, even if its them going though hardships or trying something new- the main character will always at the end of the story find love and 99.9% of the time have sex at the end.

you guys finished the movie you were watching and didnt really say much about it. watching romance movies with mark is nothing new but- watching romance movies with mark alone in your house is definitely new.

“that was cute” you say braking the silence.

“yeah it was funny- anways next movie?” mark says our of awkwardness and adjusting himself next to you.

you got back up to make more popcorn as he started the movie. you sat the food down on the table in front of the couch and since you were slightly bent over. in that same motion you leaned back to sit back down on the couch. but when you sat back it was not soft and fluffly.

“y/n” mark yelped

“oh god mark im so sorry” you said in a panic as you tried to get up but he wrapped your arm around ur waist making you sit right on top of him.

“y/n, could you say like this for a second” he said into your back.

“o-oh um yeah” you responded.

you sat there for a good couple of minutes watching the beginning of spider-man till you moved trying to get up again but that single movement make mark moan.

you couldn’t believe it, it shocked you down your spine and made you really aware of what you were sitting on.

“y/n please don’t move, im sorry” he says, you could tell he felt so apologetic.

“should i help?” you said quietly.

“what?” he responds quickly “no… no no no absolutely not”

“what if i wanted to” you said.

“i jus- f-fuck” he moans, you didnt care, you yourself were in a mood too and after feeling how hard he was you couldn’t help but move.

you started off slow, you didn’t want to overwhelm him or make him cum fast since you wanted to enjoy this too. “m-mark” you moaned out as you made little movements on top of him.

“y/n…” mark said, he moved your hair so that he had access to kiss the nape of your neck as you sat on top of him like a chair.

you move your lower body in slow circle movements to get him started. you knew this was going to be a bumpy ride so you place your hands on both of marks thighs to hold yourself up as you work yourself on him.

“you are doing so good y/n” he moans, he uses the hand that was wrapped around your stomach so snake it up into your shirt. he finds one of your tits and try’s to work on it while your moving on him. as he using his other hand to hold you down so he can meet you through the layers of thin clothing.

“a-ah” you push your ass down on him much as you could trying to fit yourself onto him like putting on a pair of tight shoes. you throw ur head forward in pleasure and to put all your strength in your legs.

“f-fuck y/n, your so f-fucking hot” mark shutters as he still chases after your back to leave hot kisses all over it. you change your rhythm to back and forth motions, you could feel him trying to meet your change.

you never really thought you would be doing this with mark, you had some feelings for him in the past but never let it get the best of you. seeing your best friend as a boy, a man was something really hard for you till today.

“f-fuck m-mark your so big” you say, feeling the length of him though clothing was making you wish that the layer wasnt there.

“y/n- i’m gonna cum” he grunted as he places both his hands on your hips so he could control your movements

“m-me to mark” you yelped trying to move as much as you could on top of him.

“f-fuck” he moaned loudly right into your ear as he spilled out in his pants. and you following right behind him.

he wraps his arms around your stomach pulling you in just to sit on top of him as you both come down for your high in  silence.

“so, what was that…” mark finally says, still holding on to you.

“i dont know but it was good, like really good, lik-“ you said but got cut off by mark.

“y/n please stop or im gonna actually want to fuck you” mark says resting his head on your back.

you twist your arm around in a awkward manner to reach his head, “if it means less clothes next time then i wouldnt mind”

and with that the two just laugh a little, clean up and try to at least finish the movie without any sexual glances at each other.

an: hiii i hit 127 followers so i thought i would respond to some requests as much as i could ^_^

[gretavangroupie]

Imber

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 21.5k

Warnings: Camping Jake, Cursing, Alcohol, Arguing, Pining, Angst, Severe Weather, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I had a thought and couldn't let it go. Special thanks to @gretavanmoon and @builtbybrokenbells for always supporting me and listening to my rambling voice memos. Love you both.

You watch as the familiar white Jeep pulls into your driveway, a cloud of dust filling the air as the car shifts into park. It’s only seconds before Clara is bounding out of the passenger door, running up to meet you on your porch.

“Clara…” you say, a suspicious look on your face.

“Josh said he wanted to tag along since he’s home…I couldn’t say no! Don’t be mad!” she whines nervously, knowing good and well this was supposed to be a girls weekend. 

You squint your eyes at her and let out a faux huff of annoyance, “It’s fine,” you say, sending her a playful smile.

“Are you sure?” she asks, bending down to help you grab your camping supplies. 

“Of course, Clara. I was just kidding around. You know I love Josh, and I know you hardly ever get to do stuff like this together. In fact, if you two want to just go, I can stay–”

“No way. You’re absolutely coming! Don’t start!” she shouts, slinging your duffle bag over her shoulder. “Let’s get you loaded up and on the road.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes organizing your things into the trunk, tetrising a few items until the trunk door would shut. You climb into the backseat, taking up residence next to the cooler packed with food for the weekend. 

“Hi Y/N! Thanks for letting me crash your camping trip!” Josh says, turning around in the driver's seat to flash you a smile. 

“Of course! I mean, if I knew that you were going to be home we could have planned like, a whole thing. It’s really no big deal. The more the merrier!” you answer, feeling Clara’s hand reach back to squeeze yours in thanks.

“Just a little break, only three weeks or so then we are back to it. Germany next,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you in the rearview mirror. 

You listen to him and Clara talk about the next leg of his tour, seeing the city start to taper off outside the car window. The trees are growing thick and the signs of humanity are next to none. 

“So where exactly are we going on this camping adventure, Clara?” you laugh, never really discussing a location in your earlier planning. 

“We’re going out to Leiper’s Fork, have you ever been there?” Josh answers.

“No, but I’ve heard of it!”

“Yeah, it’s a super cool little spot. Super secluded and gorgeous this time of year. Been out here a few times,” he says, letting his hand move to rest on Clara’s thigh. 

“How did you even find this? I feel like we are in the middle of nowhere!” you laugh, letting your eyes focus on the multicolored trees out the window. 

“Oh this is Jake’s spot. He’s always out here. Likes to come out here to write,” he pauses, turning to look at Clara. You can sense the nervous energy in his voice,  “He’s um, he’s actually going to be joining us.”

“Oh?” 

You feel a rush of panic wash over you. To say that your relationship with Jake was a bit rocky would be an understatement. You weren’t sure if there was ever really one thing that started it, one thing that made him dislike you so much, it just kind of evolved into what it is. You always seemed to find yourself in the same room as him, at the same parties with him, and attending the same shows, thanks to Josh and Clara. Though, neither of you ever bothered to speak to each other, let alone acknowledge the other's existence. It turned into an unspoken feud, filled with harsh whispers and judgemental glances, letting Josh and Clara be the buffer between the two of you. 

The thought of him joining you this weekend had you wishing you never agreed to the trip in the first place, and you know that they waited until you were this far out of town to break the news to you. 

“It will be fine babe, don’t worry. He will keep to himself like usual,” Clara says, sending you a guilty look. 

“Clara…”

“She’s right. He is different when we come out here. He might even be nice, who knows,” Josh laughs. It eases your anxiety just enough and you find yourself agreeing to this set up.

“Alright, it’s fine. I mean, it’s only two days anyway.”

–

The three of you spend most of the afternoon setting up your tents, wrestling the skinny fiberglass poles through the brightly colored fabric in fits of laughter. You took up shop beneath an old Oak tree, hoping it would provide a bit of shelter from the sun and the wind. Clara and Josh set up their tent just across from you, closer to the car and the fire pit. 

You organized your things in your tent, listening as Josh got chairs set up around the fire pit. He and Clara pulled the cooler from the car, tossing you a beer and as the sun started to dip in the sky, you talked about dinner and made plans for tomorrow's adventures. 

It was nearly sunset before you heard the rumble of tires as Jake’s Jeep pulled up to the campsite. You all snap your heads in his direction, seeing him jump out of the drivers side with a smirk on his lips. 

“Glad you could join us,” Josh teases. 

“Can’t rush these things,” he counters, nodding his head to Clara as a hello. His eyes flick over you and you watch as the expression on his face changes. His jaw tightens and his lips flatten into a thin line. A grumble of something leaves his lips in a whisper, and you don’t even have to hear it to know what he said wasn't pleasant. 

You look away quickly, turning your attention back to the vegetables you were cutting up for dinner. He turns back towards his car, gathering his things from the trunk as he continues to gripe incoherently. 

You focus on Josh and Clara, who are working on their own dinners, trying to keep the conversation flowing and ease the obvious tension. 

Jake tosses his things to the ground, preparing to set up his tent next to yours. You don’t dare tell him that it’s yours, and he doesn't dare ask. You continue to fill the tin foil with vegetables and meat, letting them marinate just long enough to get the fire started. 

“Jake, let’s go,” Josh says, motioning him over towards him.

“Go where,” he asks. 

“Need to gather firewood and I’m not making Clara carry it,” he says. Jake nods and gets up, jogging over to meet him. The two of them disappear into the thick woods, leaving you and Clara by yourselves at the campsite.

“This is going just great, wouldn’t you say?” you taunt, elbowing Clara from your camp chair. Her gaze is completely fixed on her phone, her eyes frantically flicking around the screen. 

“Hello? Earth to Clara?” you continue, still unable to break her away from her phone. 

She gets up and walks around, holding her phone to the sky in hopes of strengthening her signal.

“What's up, is everything okay?” you shout, starting to feel a little nervous. 

“Yeah, um, it’s fine. I think? I don’t know. I just got a weird text from my sister, and now I don’t have any service,” she says, biting at her bottom lip. 

“You can use mine if you want, I don’t know if my service is any better though. We are kinda in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s– It’s fine. I think,” she says, sitting back down in her chair next to you. 

“Anyway, what were you saying? Sorry, I suck,” she says, turning to look at you apologetically.

Just as you go to speak you hear the crunching of leaves and sticks, and see the shadowy figure of the two men returning with an arm full of firewood. 

“Well, nothing now,” you laugh, motioning to Josh and Jake. 

“Oh, okay, later?” she asks, hoping you will fill her in. 

“Yes, later,” you mumble.

Josh and Jake step up, tossing the wood into a pile next to the fire pit. “That should be enough for two days,” Josh says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. 

Jake’s eyes meet yours, only for a second before storming off to his car. You shake it off and try to focus on Josh as he builds the fire in front of you, using an obnoxious amount of lighter fluid in the process. 

“Clara he is going to light us all on–”

Her phone ringing interrupts you, grabbing her attention as she rushes to answer it. She stands up and walks away towards the car, and you watch as her demeanor shifts into panic. Your eyes meet Josh’s, both of you feeling uneasy about whatever is happening on that phone call. She rushes back over to you, her face fear stricken and her hands visibly shaking. 

“Josh, we have to go! We have to go right now!” she shouts, frantically rushing around and grabbing things from inside their tent.

“What? Clara, what's going on?!” he asks, trying to calm her down. 

“Ashton! She’s going into labor! She’s on her way to the hospital right now! She wasn’t due until next week! I don’t know, I don't know! But we have to go right now!” she says, pulling out of his grip and continuing to grab her things and throw them in the car. 

“Oh shit! Okay, yes, yes we can go, um…” he pauses, looking over towards Jake at his tent and you sitting in the chair in front of him, “Fuck, um…Y/N, do you uh, want to come with us, or–”

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I had no idea or I wouldn’t have– fuck, you should just… stay, enjoy the campsite and just relax. I’m so sorry I promise I will make this up to you!” Clara cries, her nervous energy transferring to you. 

It’s mere seconds before her and Josh are jumping into his car and pulling out of the campsite, abandoning their tent, their dinner and the rest of their belongings. 

Fuck.

You stand up from your chair, processing what exactly happened as you stare at the roaring fire. 

“Where uh, where did they go?” Jake asks, appearing from his tent as he hears the car peeling out of the campsite. 

You turn to look at him, shocked that he even spoke to you, while also realizing that now it’s just the two of you. Alone.

“They– Clara’s sister is having her baby. Early. They just…left– I–”

“Left?” he asks, “Like for good?”

“I…think so…” you answer, watching as he drags his hand across his face. The hem of his flannel lifts in the process revealing the tiniest peek at his tanned torso, so you quickly divert your eyes before he notices your staring. 

“Of course,” he gripes, kicking at the pile of firewood. He mutters something under his breath and you feel a wave of embarrassment at the thought of him dreading being around you this much. 

He huffs out a breath and turns to you, “Well, do you want to stay here or–”

“I mean, do you want to stay?” you question, shrugging your shoulders noncommittally. 

“I have no issue with staying. I know you were only here for them, so if you want to leave I promise it’s not going to hurt my feelings. I’m used to being out here alone anyway,” he says, his tone a little clipped. “Prefer it.”

“Are you going to be mad if I do want to stay?” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You let your eyes meet his for a few seconds, both of you looking at each other as he thinks of his answer.

Again he rubs his hand over his face, shaking his head, “No, no I won’t be fucking mad– I just– Do you want to fucking stay, yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Okay. Then we’ll stay,” he says, lowering the sound of his voice. His eyes flick around your face for a few seconds before turning to look at the fire. You can tell he is agitated, but when is he not?

“Jesus, he always uses too much fluid,” he gripes, turning his attention to the flames. “Pyromaniac.”

“Well, I guess we can throw these on?” you say, picking up the tin foil packets. 

“Yeah yeah, um, just set ‘em there,” he says, looking up to you from his crouched position next to the fire pit.

“Do you…want a drink or something?” you ask, feeling the awkwardness between you growing quickly. You can feel the hostility pouring off of him, and getting a drink seems to be you only escape plan.

“What’s in there?” he asks, looking over towards the cooler. 

“Beer?” you pause, “I don’t know, Josh packed it.”

“Whatever’s in there is fine,” he says, tossing the foil packets onto the flames.

You make your way to the cooler, grabbing two icy cans and returning to your chair to see Jake sitting in the one on the opposite side of the fire pit. You hand the can to him, seeing a side smile pull across his lips as he nods his head in thanks. 

“Got something stronger in the car if you want it,” he smirks, popping the tab on his can.

The small sliver of a smile nearly takes your breath away. “Oh, um, no this is good. Thank you though.”

It’s quiet between the two of you, both of you sipping at your beers as you watch the fire in front of you. You want to say something to him, start a conversation, maybe even chip away at his tough exterior, but you know that comes with risks. Risks you aren't willing to take while stranded in the woods for the next two days. 

It’s him though, that strikes up a conversation, but it’s not to make small talk, it’s to get answers. 

“Why do you even want to stay if Clara left?” he asks, bringing his can to his lips. 

You take a second to think about it, “Well, because I bought all this camping stuff, mostly. I’ve been looking forward to this little trip. I like being in nature, and I don’t get to do it often enough. Going in the woods alone as a woman isn’t exactly the safest either. So yeah, it sucks they had to leave but I’d rather be here than back at my place staring at my camping supplies sitting at my front door.”

“No other reason?” he asks, lowering his voice a little as he pokes at the foil packs with a stick.

You shake your head slowly, “Not that I can think of, no.”

He scoffs and flips the packets over before sitting back in his chair. You can feel him judging you, and the silence as he snickers at you confirms it. 

“Don’t be like that, Jake. You wanted to stay, too.”

“Yeah, but I come out here all the time. This is my damn spot,” he snaps.

“Well excuse me for intruding! I can call a fucking cab but I don’t think they will find me out here!”

“Jesus, relax,” he groans, “You know what? That's your problem. You’re too…you’re too uptight.”

“I’m uptight?!” you gasp, “What about you?! Mister, brooding misunderstood rockstar, can't stand to be in the same room as a person that doesn't fall at his feet and sing his praises,” you bark. 

“No, see, that's where you’re wrong. I’m not brooding or misunderstood. The people that I want to know me, know me just fine. I just don't put my feelings on display for everyone I meet. I have a certain way I like to live my life. And if that comes across as brooding and misunderstood, then so be it.”

“You know, you’re insufferable sometimes…” you grit.

“Well thank you for your input. I’ll be sure to put that in my diary later,” he snickers. 

“Do you have any respect for anyone?” you shout from across the fire.

“Of course I do. Those who earn it,” he says, raising his eyebrows. 

“You’re so–” you pause, grunting in frustration when you struggle to find the words.

“Sorry I have standards, sweetheart,” he says, taking another long pull of his beer. 

“Standards? What is that supposed to mean?” you shout, feeling yourself getting a little worked up. 

He glances up at you over the fire, “I don't let just anyone come into my life and get all up close and personal. You have to earn that. Which means my standards are a little higher than most.”

You cut your eyes at him, “Why are you like this? All cold and cryptic…I don’t even know what I did to make you dislike me this much.”

His eyes are dark and unyielding, his lips turning into a smile as he laughs, “I never said I dislike you. You just don't like how I present myself because it goes against what you’re used to. You're used to easy going guys, who let you do anything you want because you’re pretty. Not guys who are a little closed off and reserved. You don't want a little bit of a challenge.”

“Who said I even want you at all?” you bite back.

“You didn’t need to say it, sweetheart. You’re easy to read,” he says, sending you a smug grin. 

“Well, find a different book.”

“You’re also a smartass,” he says, leaning forward to pull the foil packets from the fire with a stick. He carefully opens up the hot foil, and checks them to make sure they are cooked through. His eyes flick up to yours, “Hungry?”

“Yeah, I am,” you say begrudgingly, leaning forward to reach for the foil wrapped food. You unroll the foil and reach for the plastic forks, offering one to Jake. He takes it with the raise of his brow, casually picking at the food in the silver wrap. 

“Explains a few things,” he mutters with a smirk. 

“Is this how this is going to be? Are you just going to dig at me all weekend until we go our separate ways?” you ask, starting to feel a little fed up.

“You tell me. Is that what you want?” he asks, biting a carrot from his fork. 

“No, I want us to just get along the best we can. I want this to be at least a little enjoyable.”

He looks at you for a moment and seems to soften a bit. “Fine,” he says, “So what would you like to talk about then, sweetheart?"

You roll your eyes at the pet name you’ve adopted, “I don't know, what do you enjoy talking about? Pretend it's not me. Tell me about life on tour or something.”

He nods and picks at his food, seemingly thinking for a minute before he speaks. “Well,” he begins, “The tour has been good, a few bumps along the way. We hit some bad weather in Huntsville that delayed one of our shows for a night, but other than that it was a good run. I think everyone is holding up fine.”

“What about you, though. Are you holding up fine?” you ask. 

He seems taken aback by the question. He looks at you with a surprised expression, almost as if it’s the first time someone has asked him about himself. He looks down at his food and is quiet for a moment before mumbling, “Yeah…I’m fine. Why?”

“I don't know, you just seem...agitated with everything lately. Every time I see you, you just seem quiet.”

He looks up at you again, holding eye-contact for a minute. He is tempted to deny it, to tell you everything is fine, but he doesn’t. Maybe there’s a part of him that wants to be honest with you. The other part terrified of letting you see through the walls he has worked so hard to build up.

“That’s just how I am,” he says quietly. He glances up at you and then back at the fire again, “That’s how I present myself. And it’s always been that way. It’s how people expect me to be most of the time and I don’t blame them. Most of my music is written about heartache and struggle whether personal or not. It’s everything I am. But I’m fine, sweetheart. I’m always fine.”

You shrug your shoulders, not wanting to pry anymore, feeling satisfied with the little bit he’s allowed you,. “Okay.”

The two of you eat in silence for a few more minutes, the wind starting to pick up, as the leaves rustle behind you. Jake seems to have softened a bit since your earlier banter, and you wonder if he is feeling a little guilty for his hand in the taunting. 

He looks at you again with a raised eyebrow, “What about you, then? Are you fine?”

He’s asking about you? 

“I mean, yeah. I think I'm fine. There are some things I wish were different, but that's life,” you offer, not wanting to delve too far into things. Not that he would care anyway. 

He seems a little taken aback with your response. Not that it surprised him that you have personal problems, but he wasn’t expecting you to be honest with him. Almost anyone else would have painted a perfect picture and made themselves appear significantly better than they actually were. There was a moment between you two when the only sound was the crackling of the fire and the chirping of Cicadas before he quietly spoke again.

“What do you wish were different?”

“Ahh, it’s nothing really. Just sometimes I wonder if I am where I am supposed to be. You know, the normal stuff,” you say, offering him a smile.  

He looks at you for a beat and nods slowly, seeming to take that in. “I don’t think anyone truly knows if they’re where they’re meant to be. One of the mysteries of life, I suppose.”

“What?” you nod, encouraging him to continue. “What were you going to say? You look like you wanted to ask something.” 

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, looking back into the fire and away from you. 

“It’s nothing.” He shakes his head as if dismissing whatever he was just thinking and stands up. He walks towards the treeline with an unreadable expression on his face, and you wonder what he could possibly be thinking. The wind sends a shiver through you, and you decide to grab the s'mores ingredients from the cooler before he comes back. If he comes back. 

He walks away, disappearing into the trees as he goes to relieve himself. He stands there for a moment, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cool night air. He runs a hand through his hair, swearing under his breath as he replays your conversation. He hates that you can break him down so easily, that you seem to understand him better than he understands himself, and worse that you even care enough to ask. 

He zips up and turns to head back towards the tent, feeling frustrated and conflicted. He knows he's being unfair to you, knows that he's acting cold and distant for no good reason. But he can't help it. It’s all he can do. He doesn't want to get close to people, doesn't want to let them in. Especially not you. 

You work quickly trying to place the marshmallows on sticks, finding it to be a lot harder than you thought. With a little elbow grease and a dream you shoved the sticky blobs on the ends of the sticks, dangling them gingerly over the open flames. 

With both hands occupied it's hard to shield your arms from the cool wind that is dancing through your campsite. A chill rises to your skin despite the warmth of the fire. You quickly forget about it though as you see Jake reappearing through the treeline. He walks up with his hands in his pockets, his eyes studying you as you roast the two marshmallows. 

“What are you up to now?” he asks, raising a brow. 

“I mean…Roasting marshmallows, what do you mean?” you ask, confused as to why he was confused. 

His eyes roam over you and a small smirk appears at the corner of his mouth. He leans a little bit closer to study what you’re doing, laughing under his breath.

“You’re going to burn them, sweetheart.”

“No I’m not. I know what I’m doing, thank you,” you quip, rotating the sticks. 

He laughs and shakes his head, “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up with a mess of black, gooey, sugar.”

He moves a little closer behind you, until his chest is mere inches away from your back. His voice drops to a teasing whisper against your ear. “But, by all means, continue.”

If the goosebumps weren’t already taking up residency on your body, they would be now. He takes the chair next to you this time, instead of his previous one across from you. You don’t question it, and he doesn’t mention it, so you leave it at that. 

You watch as the marshmallows start to puff up, knowing they are done and ready to be put on the graham cracker, but that's when you realize you only have two hands, and this is in fact, about to go south quickly.

“Here, hand one to me,” he says, grabbing the stick from your hand. “Put that one together, and then do this one.”

You work quickly to assemble the marshmallow, chocolate and graham cracker, your fingers growing into a sticky, sugary mess as it starts to deflate. It’s melting the chocolate perfectly, and you think you may have just made the perfect s’more. The wind starts to whip a little harder, blowing your hair around your face just a little too much. Jake hands you the stick back, letting you assemble the other s’more, trying to push your hair out of your face with your wrist. 

From his spot next to you, you can feel his eyes on you. Watching you struggle, giggling a little under his breath as you fight through the mess of hair in your eyes. 

You place the chocolate on the cracker before trying to position the marshmallow on top, a huff of frustration falling from your lips as you push your hair back with the side of your arm. “Fuck,” you growl. 

You hear him laugh again, but this time it's accompanied with him standing up from his seat. You turn your head and watch as he pulls a black hair tie from his finger. His fingers brush against your neck for a moment, gathering your hair into his fist and pulling it up into a quick ponytail. It is an unexpectedly sweet and careful gesture on his part, taking you completely by surprise. 

He steps back and looks over you, now with your hair out of the way. “There,” he says, taking his seat once more.

“Th–thank you,” you squeak out, still reeling over the feeling of his hands on your skin. 

There is a beat of silence between you where he just looks at you. His eyes drift from your face down to your fingers and the gooey mess you had created from assembling the s’mores. 

He suddenly snickers,“You’re a mess, sweetheart.”

You shrug your shoulders and offer him the perfect s’more, reaching for your own and sinking your teeth into the melty goodness. You were right, it was perfect. Probably the best you’d ever made. Screw him for saying you were going to burn it. 

You turn to look at him, ready to see his reaction to the perfectly made treat. He bites into it, staring at the fire as he chews, swallowing down his first bite before he turns to you. 

“You know, I kind of hate these,” he smirks. 

“What?” you ask, taking another bite. 

“I never have liked them. My whole life, really.”

“Then why– Why are you eating it? You didn’t have to eat it,” you say, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“I dunno. I want to. I guess ‘cause you made it for me.”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach, watching him intentionally take another bite as he settles back in his camp chair. There is a new tension floating in the air now, it's less uncomfortable and more heavy with things unsaid. 

He turns to look at you again, his face glowing in the orange fire light, “It actually isn’t terrible. I will admit.”

“So what you’re saying is that you love my cooking?” you tease.

He laughs, as he swallows his last bite, “Well, I didn’t say that. The fact that you call this cooking is questionable.” His tone is teasing, and you watch as he licks a dribble of chocolate from his thumb. It causes more of a reaction within you than you ever anticipated, and again you thank the wind for causing the goosebumps. 

“I think I have some paper towels  in the car, I’ll be right back.” he says, standing and walking over to his car. You can hear him digging around in his trunk as you stare off at the trees in the distance, trying to make any sense of the feelings rushing through your body right now. Why is he sort of sweet? Why is he sort of really sexy when he’s not being an asshole?

A flash in the trees catches your eye, snapping you from your thoughts and raising your blood pressure. You stare intently, watching for it again, hearing Jake approaching from your left. You see the flash again, accompanied by two others, and a smile crosses your face. 

Jake steps up behind you, tossing a thick flannel in your lap as he takes his spot next to you, offering you a handful of wet wipes to clean your sticky fingers. You glance down at the shirt laying across your legs and turn to him in surprise.

“Noticed you were cold, that's all.”

You clean your hands the best you can before sliding the thick flannel shirt over your arms, letting the warmth and the smell envelop your senses. This was not helping with the thoughts you were having a few minutes ago. You turn your sights back to the trees, watching the little orbs buzz around overhead.

“Fireflies…” you whisper, watching a few zaps of yellow buzz around in the old Oak trees.

He hums as he sees them light up, “They are in all of the trees out here. One of my favorite things,” he admits.

“Jake?”

He turns to look at you, nodding for you to continue. 

“Why do you come out here alone all the time?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

His expression darkens slightly as he hears the question, and he is quiet for a moment before answering. “It’s just peaceful I guess,” He shrugs and looks out into the darkness of the trees instead of you. “Not everyone is cut out to be around people all the time.”

“You don’t ever get lonely?”

A beat of silence passes and he glances back at you. This time, his usual smirk has disappeared and is replaced by a more serious look. He doesn’t answer the question, but there is a look in his eyes that makes you think maybe he is more lonely than he wants to let on.

“I’m comfortable with my own company,” he says quietly. The fire is still smoldering in front of the two of you, the flames gone now, leaving a pile of glowing embers snapping and popping as they work to extinguish themselves. 

You pull the sleeves of his flannel over your hands, catching his attention and pulling a tiny smirk to the corners of his lips. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to focus on the fireflies again. It feels nice sitting with him like this. Just talking, no witty remarks or snappy comebacks. Just two people, talking. 

“Don’t you ever wish you had someone to share this with, though? Your spot?” you ask, giving him a playful grin.

He watches you for a moment, considering the question. There is a part of him that wants to be defensive and cold, shutting you out and telling you he doesn’t want that. But the look in your eyes and the softness of your tone tells him he can’t lie to you about this. He breaks eye contact momentarily, his gaze falling downward to his hands in his lap.

“Sometimes…” he mumbles under his breath. 

You aren’t sure why, but that goes straight to your heart. Sure he said he was fine earlier, but now you’re starting to see that maybe that isn’t completely true. It’s quiet for a moment, and you spend each second gathering up the courage to continue the conversation.

He glances at you again, this time having a look on his face that says he wishes he hadn’t confessed that to you. He suddenly becomes much more uncomfortable, trying to cover it up by acting nonchalant, adjusting his position in his chair and fidgeting with the fire. He clears his throat and looks to you again, “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”

It catches you off guard. Him not only abruptly ending the conversation, but the rest of the evening. You know he is right, you probably should go to sleep, but part of you feels like the conversation is unfinished, and you think he knows that, too. 

“Oh, um, okay. Yeah, you’re probably right.” you say, standing from your chair with a stretch. You can feel his eyes on you, burning holes into your skin. “Is the fire going to be okay?”

He laughs a little, nodding his head, “Yeah, yeah. Just embers now. It will smolder out in an hour or two,” he says. 

You nod your head and pull your flannel covered arms across your chest tightly. You start to make your way over to your tent, your mind flooded with the vision of him just moments ago, soft and glowing in the firelight. You look back at him, still standing at the fire, watching you walk to your tent. He nods with a smirk and starts walking toward his own tent. Before going in, he looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Night.”

“Night, Jake,” you answer, reaching for the zipper. He nods and watches as you step inside, waiting until you’re safely inside before he lets out a deep sigh.

He can’t quite put his finger on why he suddenly feels so off-kilter. You’ve shaken him in a way no other has been able to. There was something about that conversation earlier, you asking what he wanted. How he was doing.  How he feels. The way your features softened as you listened to him and made him want to tell you the truth. He didn’t like how it made him feel, like every falsity he had built up about you in his mind was exactly that. He had spent so long pushing you away and talking you down to himself that now, here, where he can’t escape you, he is faced with the fact that you’re exactly the girl he thought you were, and everything he has always known deep down is true.. 

Inside your tent, you rummage around in your duffle bag looking for something to sleep in. As you pull an old t-shirt from the bag you pull his flannel from your body, setting it aside while you change. You don’t know why, but you find yourself reaching for it again and layering it over your shirt. You pull it to your nose to breathe it in now that you’re alone in the confines of your tent. It smells of smoke and tobacco, a sweet earthy undertone pulling you into its spell as your eyes flutter closed.

You can hear him zipping his tent, the faint glow of his lantern casting a shadow of his figure against the tent fabric. You hear the buckle of his belt as he pulls it from the loops on his jeans, and you do your best to look away. But with the smell of his cologne invading your senses, you claim temporary insanity and watch as his shadow pulls his shirt over his head and slides out of his jeans. You swallow heavily as you watch his shadow settle down into his sleeping bag and turn off the lantern.

You do the same, turning off your headlamp and getting inside your sleeping bag, doing your best to get comfortable. Even though the air is warm, the ground is cold and you shiver slightly.  It’s difficult to get comfortable in the new environment and you find yourself rolling over and shifting around a lot, almost matching the state of your brain. Eventually, the sound of the cicadas lure you to sleep, and as your eyes shut it's a soft, fireside Jake that is on your mind. 

—

The birds chirping in the tree above you wakes you. Your eyes crack open and you immediately notice the cool chill in the air. You sit up and yawn, stretching out your limbs and buttoning the buttons on the flannel for a little extra warmth. As you step outside of your tent a cool fog envelops you, causing you to shiver. You see a small fire has been built in the fire pit already, so you gather that Jake is already awake.

You make your way to your camp chair, noticing it has been wiped of the dew already, and is ready for you to occupy it. Your eyes search the foggy landscape for any sight of him, finding him standing at the tailgate of his Jeep fiddling with something. He catches sight of you, and nods, motioning that he will be over soon. 

Minutes later he is approaching with two camp mugs filled with what you can only assume is coffee. The steam is swirling from the tops of the mugs blending in with the fog surrounding you. 

“Morning,” he says, offering you the blue speckled mug. 

“Morning,” you smile, accepting it from his hand. “You have all the accessories, don’t you?”

He smiles, and nods gently, “I’m very serious when I commit to things.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“It is.” His gaze travels over you for a moment. He can’t help but appreciate just how good you look in the morning. The messy hair and the sleepy expression, combined with his flannel, you’re practically driving him insane.

“Do you think we will be able to see the sunrise through the fog?” you ask, sipping at the black coffee.

He squints thoughtfully out into the fog, taking in the thickness of it. He can’t see anything through the haze and honestly doubts you will be able to see much of anything.

“Hard to say,” he shrugs. “Depends on how long it hangs on.”

You nod in understanding, returning to the quiet morning, listening to the chirping of the birds in the distance. “You know it is really beautiful out here, I see why you come out here.”

He smiles a little, appreciating your change of attitude from last night.

“I thought you’d like it,” he said with a hint of a smirk. He glances back out into the fog where everything is hazy and unclear. “It’s nice and quiet here. No one around for miles, other than us of course. I like that best of all.”

“You know, I might even come back here one day,” you smile, feeling your chest grow warm at his last words. 

He suddenly looks surprised that you’re considering returning. He usually had a comeback for anything you said, but for this, he was quiet for a moment, considering your words.

He glances around at the surrounding area, the trees and shrubs all covered in the dense fog. He feels almost defensive about you seeing this place as beautiful. It was his place, his special place, and he wasn’t sure why he felt so weird that you were appreciating it. He falls silent for a moment as he watches you enjoy the surroundings, sipping the coffee he made for you as you sit in his flannel. The peaceful look on your face as you look out into the fog causes his chest to feel warm. He would never admit it, but he wants to bring you back here as often as you want to come.

He clears his throat and looks back at you. “Maybe we can take a walk before it clears up.”

You can feel the blush creeping up your chest, your cheeks burning at the thought that he might actually want to spend the day with you. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that. Anything cool to see out here?”

He takes a moment to think, rubbing his fingers against his lips, “There’s a pretty decent hike to a creek not too far, we could go that way. Only if you’re not scared of a little wilderness along the way,” he smirked.

“I’m not scared,” you answer, raising a brow in challenge. 

“You bring a bathing suit?” he asks, tipping back the last of his coffee.

“Of course,” you laugh. 

“Good, I’ll meet you back out here in say, fifteen?” he says, standing from his chair.

You nod and both make your way back to your tents, changing into your bikini that you fully did not prepare to wear in front of a man, let alone Jake. You pull a pair of denim shorts and a cut off tee over top, grabbing your hiking boots and your backpack as you make your way back out to the camp chairs. 

Jake is still in his tent, so you use the time to lace up your boots and pack a few snacks into your bag. It’s not long before Jake is stepping out, in a pair of red swim trunks and a black button down, barely hanging on to his tan frame. It seems a strange ensemble for hiking, but he is unlike any other man you knew, and it kind of just fit.

He joins you at the chairs, putting on his own hiking boots. You feel his hand reach over to check the tautness of your shoestrings, grabbing your attention. 

He looks up at you from his bent over position, “Just making sure they are tight enough, don’t need you getting blisters before we even make it to the trail head,” he smiles. 

With your bag packed and your sunglasses perched on your nose, the two of you set off into the treeline, leaving your camp behind in search of adventure. You head down the winding trail that is lined with overgrowth on either side. You can tell that not many people walk this path, and you wonder how Jake even found it in the first place. The thick brush and branches scratch at your legs as you trudge on, but you welcome it. This is what you wanted, after all.

He walks just a step behind you, watching your feet as you walk along the trail. He can’t help but notice how your legs look in your denim shorts, and he does his best not to stare. Not that you would notice. 

You turn around to look at him, noticing him a few strides behind you, “You gonna keep up with me Kiszka?”

He scoffs playfully, a bit miffed at that comment, “I’ve walked this trail a hundred times, pretty sure I can handle it.”

He takes a few quick steps to catch up to you, walking next to you now rather than a few steps behind. His shoulder brushes against yours as he walks, catching you both by surprise. 

“Why am I leading the way anyway if you know where we are going?” you tease. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “You’re not ‘leading the way’ sweetheart, I’m guiding you.”

You huff in annoyance, “Guiding me? I’m not a dog…”

He smirked, thinking about how you definitely weren’t as obedient as a dog. You were much harder to control and a hell of a lot more stubborn.

He suddenly snickered and said, “Never said you were, I just don’t trust you not to wander off.”

“And go where? You’re all I’ve got out here!” you giggle, the words leaving your lips before you consider the weight of them. 

He snickered again with amusement, though his heart skipped a beat when you said that. You were all he had as well. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his swim trunks as he walked next to you, avoiding any more of the shrubs that were trying to grab onto him.

“There’s plenty of places to get lost around here if you wander off the trail. That’s why I’m making sure you don’t drift away too far.”

“Why would I want to?” you ask, a hint of flirtation evident in your tone.

He picks up on your flirty tone, letting a smirk pull across his lips. He glances over at you with a look in his eye as he registers what you meant by that comment.

“If I didn't know any better I would say you're enjoying spending time with me, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jacob,” you quip. 

He snickers and glances over at you again, seeing that look on your face he's all too familiar with. “I don’t have to flatter myself, sweetheart. You’re the one getting all flirty.” He grins.

“Flirty? I’m not being flirty,” you lie.

He snickers again, seeing through your lie immediately. “You have a terrible poker face,” he says. He walks closer to you as he speaks, his leg brushing yours as you walk. 

You feel a chill run down your spine at the contact and you wonder if he feels it too. You decide to change the subject, worried that this conversation may have you backed into a corner. 

“Tell me how you learned to play guitar so well,” you ask, hoping he will be willing to accept your topic change. 

He lifts his gaze to the trees as he contemplates your question. He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but he still remembers those nights all too well.

“Practice, mostly. Spent hours and hours alone in my bedroom just practicing until my arms were sore and my hands locked up. But how do you know that I play well? You watch me, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, letting your hands push away a few branches, “I mean, you have to play pretty well if you're selling out arenas…”

He lets out a scoff and a smirk. He was used to people complimenting his skill but for some reason, hearing you do it makes him feel a little flustered.

“I suppose so, but you didn't answer my question,” He chuckles.

“What, have I watched you play? Of course I have. I've been to a few shows with Clara.”

He seems surprised by your confession. In that moment, he begins to wonder how many times your eyes have sought him out through the lights and over the crowd.

He clears his throat and says, “Clara dragged you out to them?”

“No, I went willingly,” you admit. 

There’s a moment of silence as he processes what you just admitted. For some reason, the thought of you going to one of his shows because you wanted to go was making his heart pound a little harder in his chest.

He looks at you with a smirk to mask how thrown off he was by that.  “How come I never saw you backstage?”

You look at him with a confused look, "Did you ever look?"

Something about that question stung. The way you said the words so casually felt like a knife through his chest. He shakes his head as he responds, “No. No, you weren't there. I would remember.”

“You're right. I never went back with Clara after the shows. Didn't want to put myself in that position. I mean, that's your space, ya know? And you and I can barely be in the same room together. We haven't even had a civil conversation until, well, right now.”

He stays silent for a moment, processing your confession. After a minute he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I never wanted it to be like that sweetheart.”

You huff a laugh, “Your actions over the last, oh I don’t know, two years have shown otherwise.”

He grimaces when you say that, knowing that you’re right. He knows he has been a jackass to you, but for some reason hearing you confront him about it was causing a strong pang of guilt to flare up deep within his chest. He tries to shrug it off and maintain his cool, but even he can’t deny that your words were hitting him right where it hurt. 

The two of you walk for a few moments in silence, the only sound being the crunch of branches and twigs under your feet. He glances over at you, watching the way your face looked as you focused on where you stepped along the path, and he suddenly blurts out a question.

“Why is it so easy for you to make me feel guilty?”

What?

You snap your head to look at him, “I don’t know, you tell me?”

He lets out a scoff and shakes his head, pushing a limb out of the way to let you pass. “You’ve just got this way of bringing out sides of me that I don’t understand,” he grumbles.

“What do you mean?” you ask, feeling a wave of nerves wash over you. 

He falls silent as he considers how to explain what he means. It’s a hard thing to describe. It’s more than just the way you make him feel things he doesn’t usually feel around other people. It’s more than just the way you look at him, or talk to him, that makes his heart beat harder. It’s more and he knows it.

“It’s nothing, nevermind,” he pauses, “We’re here.”

You decide to let it slide, not wanting to push him into a bad mood. The two of you walk up to the edge of the rocky creek, taking in the sights. There’s a small waterfall trickling over the rocks to your right, leading out into a swimming spot and you almost moan at how appealing a dip sounds after that hike.

Jake stands just beside you, his gaze skimming over the water. He takes in the rushing sound of the creek as it flows past the large rocks and branches. He’s secretly looking at you out of the corner of his eye, watching you stare out at the creek just like he did the first time he saw it. He takes a moment to just watch you. The way your hair looks in the sunlight is catching his eye, the way your lashes flutter as you blink, the look on your face that’s soft and calm. Watching you out here in this setting is making all sorts of different emotions swirl around inside him, but he just can’t bring himself to name any of them.

“This was worth the hike,” you say, turning to meet his gaze. 

He keeps his eyes on you as you admire the creek. The way the sunlight dances against your skin makes you look as if you’re glowing. He can’t pull his eyes away from how goddamn good you look and how peaceful you seem despite everything that had happened between you two.

“Yeah. I suppose it was worth it, wasn’t it?” He agrees reluctantly.

You pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bikini top and shorts. You know you want to jump in, but you will wait for him to go first. 

He’s completely caught off guard by your actions, his eyes growing wide. His gaze instantly travels down to take in your bare torso, raking over your skin and lingering for just a beat too long. He immediately clears his throat and looks away, shifting uncomfortably as he feels an unfamiliar pang of heated desire in his stomach.

“You ready to swim?” he asks. You unlace your boots and leave them on the embankment, turning to look at him as he does the same. 

“Very,” you say, nodding towards the water.

He takes a moment to compose himself and avoid staring at you while you are basically half-naked. He pulls his own shirt over his head, revealing his tanned chest and arms, and sets it down beside yours on the bank of the creek.

He dips a toe into the water cautiously to test the temperature. It’s a bit cold, but it feels refreshing on his skin after all the walking you had done to get here.

“Good, let me show you why we really came here,” he says, motioning for you to follow him up a footpath. You quickly kick off your shorts and follow after him, curious as to where he is taking you. As you reach the end of the small dirt path your eyes land on the old rope hanging from the branch of an Oak tree.

“No, no way,” you stammer. 

A mischievous smirk quirks up on his face as you look at the rope. He can tell that you’re nervous just by the look in your eyes. But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it cute.

“Oh come on, what happened to ‘I’m not scared’?” he teases. 

“I’m not! But this is different!” you whine. 

He walks up to the rope, grabbing a hold of it and giving it a few solid pulls to test how sturdy it is. He glances over his shoulder at you to watch your face, seeing the anxiety there in your expression.

He smirks and motions towards the creek below him, “See that spot down there? It’s perfect for jumping. It’s safe. I’ve done it a hundred times. I promise.”

“I don’t know,” you say, biting at your bottom lip. 

He grins as he watches you bite your lip. Seeing you looking so nervous and cute was making his heart twist. He steps closer to you, still holding the rope in his hands. He smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “I’ll go first, okay?”

You nod and watch as he wraps his hands around the brown rope. He turns and looks back at you with an excited expression, “I’ll see you down there?”

“Okay,” you murmur, watching as he gets a running start and flies through the air before dropping down into the creek with a splash. You run to peer over the edge, watching him come up from the water with a shake of his hair. He smiles and waves you down, practically begging you to join him. 

“Come on, you can do it! I–I’ll catch you! Promise!” he shouts, “Jump, sweetheart!”

You let out a deep breath, gathering all your courage as you wait for the rope to stop swinging so you can grab it. As you reach for it you hear him cheering, still floating in the water where he landed. 

“Jump!” he yells, smiling up at you as he treads in the water. He grins as he watches you dangle from the rope, nervous to let go and jump into the water. “You’re gonna be fine! Just let go and I’ll catch you. I promise,” he yells.

With that you run, jumping off of the rock with the rope clutched tightly in your fists. Time almost seems to slow down when you jump, your body floating through the air and for a moment, it feels exhilarating.

“Let go, now!” he shouts, and so you do.

Jake waits with his arms open wide, watching as you fall down towards him from above. He can see the mixture of fear and courage on your face as you plummet towards him. He braces himself as you fall into his arms, catching you as best he can in the deep water. He pulls you close to him, his hands gripping your bare waist as your bodies press together. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he holds you, your chest against his and your faces just inches apart. He can feel your heart pounding as he looks into your eyes.

The moment you’re in his arms, something within him snaps. All of a sudden, everything feels heightened. The feel of your body against his, the way you’re looking at him, the sound of your breathing as it slightly catches in your chest. The air between you seems almost electrified and he can feel the tension brewing in his gut.

“You caught me,” you breathe, recognizing just how close the two of you are. 

He can’t help but smirk and let out a low chuckle, still holding you against him. “I told you I would.”

You can feel your body pressed against his, the wet fabric of your bikini sticking to your skin. It’s making your brain go fuzzy and your skin tingle in a way you can’t explain.

“Thank you,” you whisper, neither of you making a move to let go of each other. 

He swallows, the tension between you feeling almost palpable. His pulse is pumping, and his breath catches in his throat as he holds onto you. He wants so badly to press you against him further and hold you tighter. Closer.

He couldn’t help glancing down at your lips, his gaze drifting down from your eyes to linger there just for a moment. You let your tongue dart out over your lips, swiping away the water dripping over them. 

He lets out a low, deep breath as he watches you. That small action has his heart racing even more, and every instinct inside him telling him to bring you closer. To claim your lips with his and taste you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he whispers in a hoarse voice.

“Dangerous for who?” you question, biting on your lip.

He raises an eyebrow and chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening just slightly. He pulls you in closer, and you know he can feel your nipples hard and wet against his chest. Your bodies are pressed flat against one another, the cool water from the creek dripping down from your skin and onto his. He can feel your heart pounding against his chest and his pulse thrumming in his veins. 

He leans his head down so that his lips are mere millimeters away from yours and whispers huskily, “You. For you, sweetheart.”

Suddenly he releases his grip on you, swimming on his back further down the creek. Your heart is still racing in your chest from the contact. You felt something just now, and you know he did too. You feel a sick feeling in your chest at the loss of his touch. You tread water for a moment as you watch him swim away, feeling the coolness of the water against your skin and the sun beating down above you. Your mind is racing and you’re trying to process all of the different emotions and sensations that he stirred up within you just now.

Jake turns, breaking the surface to look back at you. “You coming?” he calls out to you with a smirk.

You nod, starting to swim towards him, taking notice of the smile on his face and the small dimple in his cheek. For some reason you feel the need to be close to him, you want his hands on you again, and you think maybe he does too.

He watches as you swim towards him, your body moving gracefully through the water. He can feel his heart rate increasing as he watches you approach, and he has a sudden urge to reach out and pull you against him. But instead, he composes himself and continues to tread water as you swim up to him.

He grins as you get to him, his gaze drifting over your body. “Took you long enough,” he teases.

“Where are you taking me, anyway?” you taunt, treading water next to him.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

You shrug your shoulders in the water, and with that he spins around and starts swimming further down the creek, moving towards a more secluded area. He glances over his shoulder at you as he swims, making sure you’re following him. He swims over towards the bank, pulling himself up on a collection of flat rocks. It’s a nice shady spot, and you can tell the rocks will be warm to the touch. 

He looks back at you, extending his hand to help pull you from the water. You take it, letting him pull your wet body up onto the rocks with him. He keeps hold of your hand for just a moment longer than necessary, hoping you didn’t notice, but of course you do. 

“This,” he pauses, “Is my favorite place.” He grins and motions for you to sit down, taking a seat himself. Once you’re settled, he looks out at the creek that flows past you. 

“I found it a long time ago. No one’s ever here. It’s like a little hidden treasure, I don’t even know if anyone else knows it’s here,” he says with a smile. “Actually, you’re the only person I’ve ever shown this to.”

“What? No one else?” You question. 

He shakes his head, chuckling a bit. “No one. It’s my little secret hideout.” He looks over at you and grins, his eyes taking in your figure sitting next to him. “I guess now it’s our secret hideout.”

“Oh, ours now, huh?” you tease, turning to look at him as the sun hits his cheeks. 

He laughs, his eyes still wandering over you, taking in the way the water is dripping down your sun kissed skin.

He takes a deep breath and nods, “Yeah, ours. No getting out of it now,” he says with a smirk.

You decide to push the envelope a little, swallowing nervously as you speak, “Wasn’t really planning on it.”

He grins, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he hears your flirty tone. He shifts his body towards you, his gaze drifting over your face and then down towards your chest and legs, still damp from the water.

He raises an eyebrow at you and responds in a low voice, “Good. I don’t think I’d let you, anyway.”

You decide to let the conversation end there, your pulse pounding as you look at him, the droplets of water drying on his chest. He’s hot, and you know that he knows it. The smirk on his lips hasn’t left since you made your way to the rocks and you can feel the tension between the two of you growing by the second. 

He swallows, feeling his heart begin to beat quicker as he looks at you. He wants so badly to reach out and touch you, but he holds back, knowing that doing so would probably drive him over the edge. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. He’s not used to feeling this out of control when he’s with a woman. Normally he’s the one in charge, the one in control. But there’s something about you that makes him feel like he’s losing his grip, like he’s teetering on the edge of something new and different, and he can’t help but be drawn to it.

He shifts his body closer to you, his gaze fixed on your face as he speaks. “You want to swim some more or do you want to head back?”

“What do you want to do?” you ask, truly feeling like anything would be fun as long as it was him you were doing it with. 

He grins at you, the sparkle in his eye betraying his true desire. He wants to touch you, to pull you against him and feel your body pressed against his. But instead of saying that, he shrugs, “I’m good with whatever you want. Can’t promise we won’t find ourselves in the water again, though.”

With that you push up off the rocks and dive back into the creek, pushing the hair from your face as you resurface from the water. You splash the water up at him, soaking him and causing him to jump. 

“Oi!” he shouts, a bit of an accent peeking out from somewhere. 

“What’s wrong Kiszka? Can’t handle a little innocent splashing?” you taunt, trying to lure him into the water. What you don’t expect is for him to jump to his feet with a vengeful look in his eye. 

“Oh you just wait, sweetheart,” he pauses, charging towards you, “We will see how innocent–” 

You cut him off with another playful splash, drenching him again.  

He wipes the water from his face, shaking his head as if you have pushed him too far, “Mmhm, okay, now you’ve done it.” 

He jumps into the water next to you, wrapping his arms around you as he drags you beneath the surface. He pulls you down with him, holding you tight around the waist as you sink beneath the surface. The feeling of your body against his is intoxicating, and he revels in the sensation for a moment before popping back up and pulling you with him.

As you break the surface, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, holding you against him as you gasp for air. He grins, his smirk returning as he looks down at you. “Payback’s a hell of a thing, sweetheart.”

You push playfully at his shoulders, feeling his hands still holding your waist. A wicked grin is on his lips, and you're certain you’ve never seen someone so beautiful. He laughs as you push at him, not loosening his grip on your waist one bit. He can feel the way your body feels against his, soft and warm in stark contrast to the coolness of the water.

“Watch yourself, dove,” he warns, his smirk growing wider as he looks down at you. “You’re playing with fire.”

“How do we keep finding ourselves here,” you breathe. 

He looks down at you, his eyes locked on your face as he holds you in his arms. You feels the tension between you building, the heat of your bodies close together making your heart race in your chest.

He takes a deep breath, letting out a low chuckle as he replies, “I dunno, sweetheart, I sure don’t know.” His hand moves up to tuck a lock of your wet hair behind your ear. It feels like he wants to say more, but stops himself, settling for something else instead. “You want to head back?”

You feel a pang shoot through your chest, you don’t want to leave this spot, not now, not ever. “Sure,” you answer, and you wonder if he feels the same. 

He nods, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. He had hoped you would say you didn’t want to leave, that you wanted to stay here just as much as he did. But he doesn’t argue with you, and instead just starts swimming towards the bank. 

“C’mon, it’s starting to get dark anyway, we should get back.” he says, letting you follow behind him. 

You find your belongings right where you left them, but the thought of putting clothes over your wet bikini has you cringing. Instead, you shove them into your backpack, holding Jake’s shirt up, silently asking him if he wants it. He shakes his head as he ties his boots, his hair still dripping down his back. You put on your own boots and sling the backpack over your shoulders, taking one last look at the creek you’d never forget. 

“You ready?” he asks, starting down the path. You nod and follow behind him, the trail lit by the perfect afternoon sun. Your hair is drying in waves around your face, much the same as his. 

He leads the way down the trail, his boots crunching on the ground below. His mind is wandering as he walks, stuck between the memory of holding you in the water just moments ago and the thought of possibly never doing it again. He sneaks glances at you out of the corner of his eye, admiring the way the sunlight is casting warm rays over your hair and face.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Jake,” you say, giving him a soft smile.

He turns to look at you, a small smile on his lips. He’s a little surprised at your sudden show of gratitude.

He shrugs a little, “You’re welcome. I come here whenever I need a break from things. It’s nice to have somewhere peaceful to escape to…” He trails off and looks away for a moment before continuing. “And nice to have someone to share it with.”

The two of you walk in content silence for most of the trail, the sun starting to dip lower and lower into the sky as the minutes pass. You notice a few clouds overhead, and thank them for a reprieve from the sun. You can feel yourself growing more and more tired with every step and before you know it you’re falling behind Jake. 

It’s as if he can hear your footsteps slowing behind him, and he stops walking, turning to look back at you. You’re several feet behind him now, your steps much more weary than they were earlier.

He raises an eyebrow as he looks at you. “You good, pretty girl?”

Your heart hammers in your chest at the pet name, but the fatigue is setting in so quickly you pay it no mind. “I don't know, I think so. I am just so exhausted suddenly.”

He sees the fatigue etched on your face, the way your steps are slowing down. He takes a step back towards you, concern evident in his eyes.

“You want to stop for a minute?” he asks, his voice softer than usual.

“How much farther is it? I can probably make it,” you ask. 

He takes a moment to think before responding, his eyes scanning over your face and your tired expression. He can tell you’re exhausted, but he also knows that you’re stubborn and determined to get back. “About another half mile, maybe a little less,” he replies. “You sure you can make it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine, let’s just keep going,” you say, starting to walk again. It feels like you’re carrying a bag of bricks on your back, but you push through. 

So he silently falls into step beside you, watching like a hawk for any sign of your energy giving out on you. But that's when it hits him, "What if I carried you?"

“Carried me?” you ask.

He looks at you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Yeah, carried you. I could give you a piggyback ride the rest of the way.”

“Jake, no…” you whine, deep down loving the idea. 

He laughs aloud at your protest, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, come on, sweetheart, you know you want to. I can see it in your eyes. I bet your legs are going to give out on you any second now.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, feeling hesitant, but he is offering.

He grins, seeing the wheels turning in your head. “I'm sure. C’mere.” He motions for you to turn around, holding his arms open for you to climb onto his back.

You feel his arms wrap around your legs as you climb onto his back, feeling the warmth of his skin against your chest. You practically melt into him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as your nose brushes against his hair, still wet from the creek.

He grunts a bit as you climb onto his back, the weight of you against him sending a wave of warmth through his body. He wraps his arms tightly around your legs, securely holding you in place, and is suddenly acutely aware of how close you are to each other. He can feel your breath on the back of his neck and the way your chest is pressed against his shoulders, the sensation making his heart beat a little faster than usual.

“Are you sure this is okay?" you ask, splaying your hand against his chest.

He takes a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of your hand on his skin. He nods, his voice a little huskier than usual. “Yeah, it's fine. Don't you worry ‘bout a thing, sweetheart.”

He adjusts his grip on you slightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

You walk like that for a little bit, your body quickly succumbing to the rhythmic bouncing from every step he takes. You find your eyes growing heavy, and your head starting to droop, and before you know it, your head is resting on his warm shoulder. 

He can't help but smile to himself as he realizes you've fallen asleep on his back. He adjusts his grip on you, trying to keep you as secure as possible as he continues walking down the trail, humming softly and feeling oddly content with the situation he has found himself in. 

It feels like seconds have passed before he gently taps your leg, waking you up as he speaks. “Hey, sleepyhead. We made it.”

He waits for you to regain your bearings and loosen your grip on him before carefully lowering you down from his back, his hands lingering at your waist for a moment longer than necessary.

“That felt like two minutes, tops,” you giggle.

He laughs, a soft chuckle that makes his chest vibrate. “Yeah, you passed out pretty fast there,” he pauses, “You hungry? I’m starving.”

“Starving,” you answer, maybe a little too quickly. 

He laughs again, the sound still as charming as usual. “Yeah, figured as much. Let's get something going.” 

He makes his way to the cooler, opening it up and pulling a pack of hotdogs from inside, “This looks like it,” he smiles, “Let me get the fire going and we will be cooking in no time.”

“Thanks for carrying me, Jake. Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you say, lowering your voice a little. 

He grins as he sets the hot dogs down, looking up at you. “No problem. And no need to apologize for dozing off.” He glances up as he strikes a match, igniting the kindling. “It was kind of...cute.”

Cute? Oh.

A strong gust of wind blows through the campsite, taking both of you by surprise, tossing a camp chair to its side. 

“Damn,” he says, moving to pick up the chair. He looks up to the sky, the clouds growing heavy and darkening. “We may be in for a bit of rain.”

“Tents are waterproof, right?” you ask nervously.

He chuckles at your question, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, tents are waterproof.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” you whine. 

He grins, enjoying your playful pout. “I can't help it, you make it too easy.”

He looks at you again, the fire casting a warm glow over his features. “How about you go change into some dry clothes, these hotdogs will be done soon.”

You nod and head into your tent, stripping out of your bathing suit and pulling a t-shirt over your sun warmed skin. You add a pair of leggings and his flannel before stepping back out and seeing him assemble the hotdogs. Your stomach is growling, and you quickly realize you hadn’t eaten all day. 

He looks up as you come out of your tent, his eyes lingering on the way his flannel covers your form. He can feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of you in his shirt, but quickly composes himself.

He grins as he sees your expression, your hunger evident. “Ready?”

You nod as he hands you a paper plate, taking the seat next to you at the fire. The air is cooler than it was last night, and the humidity is growing by the second. Both of you quickly eat, very few words shared between the two of you. 

You both toss the paper plates into the fire, making quick work of cleaning up. He disappears into his tent for a few minutes, emerging in warmer clothes. His cheeks have a pink glow from the sun today, and you can’t help but think it makes him all the more pretty in the fire light.

“So what do you think, you gonna make us s’mores again tonight?” he asks, crossing his feet on the ledge of the fire pit.

You turn to look at him, “What? I thought you didn’t like them?”

He laughs softly, turning to look at you, “I like them when you make them,” he says, his confession warming your chest.

“Are you getting soft on me, Kiszka?” you tease, standing up to grab the ingredients from the cooler.

“Me? Soft?” he scoffs, pretending to be offended. “Never in a million years, sweetheart.”

He grins, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk, betraying his feigned annoyance. He grabs the two sticks from last night, holding them out to you as you place the marshmallows on the ends. This time you give him his own stick to hold, both of you twirling the sugary puffs in the flames. 

He carefully twirls his own marshmallow in the flames, occasionally stealing glances at you as you do the same. The air is quiet, save for the crackle of the fire and the distant sound of crickets, a rumble sounds in the distance but you both ignore it.

As the marshmallows puff up, you pull them from the fire, placing them gently on the graham cracker and chocolate. They melt perfectly and again, you offer him his first. He takes it from your hand, biting into it quickly, as you do the same. 

“Truly, I think it’s something about you,” he admits, taking another bite. “They just taste better when you do it.”

“It’s all in your head,” you laugh, licking marshmallows from your finger. His eyes watch as your tongue swipes over the digits, his throat bobbing as he swallows back his nerves. 

A yawn falls from your lips as he looks at you, the earlier exhaustion creeping up on you again. 

“You look tired, sweetheart.”

“I am, it just hit me out of nowhere again,” you admit. 

He chuckles softly, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Yeah, I can tell. You’ve been fighting it for the past twenty minutes.” He looks at you intently, studying your expression in the firelight. “Wanna call it a night?”

“What about you? I don't wanna leave you out here all by yourself?”

He shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I can handle myself.” He looks at you, a hint of playfulness in his gaze. “Besides, I don't mind being out here alone. It’s peaceful this time of night.”

“You sure?” you ask, a hint of guilt in your tone. 

He grins, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you. “Yeah, I'm sure. I'll just hang out until the fire smolders and enjoy the quiet out here before I head in.”

He can see the tiredness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to tuck you into the tent and hold you against him all night. But he keeps that last thought to himself. 

“Okay, well, thanks again for today. For showing me your secret place. I had a lot of fun with you," you say, clutching the cuffs of his flannel in your fists.

His heart skips a beat at your words, the sincerity in your tone making his chest ache. He looks at you, his gaze softening as he takes you in. “Don’t mention it, dove. I had a lot of fun too.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod with a bashful smile, “Goodnight, Jake.”

He smiles at you, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he replies. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He watches as you disappear into your tent, his eyes fixated on the flaps even after you’ve gone inside. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he looks back to the fire.

He sits there for a while longer, his thoughts consumed by images of you. He can practically still feel the way your skin felt against his, the weight of you on his back as he carried you down the trail. He can still picture the way you looked in his flannel, your eyes tired but still filled with a spark that sent shockwaves through his body. He wanted you, and he always had.

Despite his best efforts he found the feelings that he pushed down for so long had resurfaced with a vengeance, briefly making him question whether they were ever really gone at all. He’d  made up a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t want you, letting it show in his harsh words and hostile demeanor, all the while letting you root your way deeper and deeper into his heart with every caught smile and laugh. He’d done such a good job pushing you away that he started to believe the lies he was telling himself over the last two years. Although, that all came to a screeching halt the minute he decided to let you in last night. The minute you showed him that you wanted to know him beyond surface level, and the minute he realized you were everything he told himself you weren’t.

Inside your tent you are snuggling down into your sleeping bag, replaying the day over and over. The way his hands felt on you, the smile you drew out of him, all of it. You wanted to run back out there and beg him to join you in here, but you know you can't. 

You can hear the fire still crackling, and the sway of the trees in the wind. Thunder is rumbling in the distance, growing closer and closer. You zip the window flaps on your tent for good measure, but that's when you hear it. The sound of a guitar, softly strumming in the breeze. You can tell he is trying to play quietly, but part of you wishes it was just a little louder. 

You don’t recognize the song, but it's soft and sweet and twists your heart in two. You want to know the name. Did he write it? Is it even a real song yet? Instead you lay there, letting the music his hands are producing play you to sleep, wishing every night could be like tonight.

—

A crash of lightning pulls you from your sleep, the sound of the nylon ripping overhead, pulling a scream from your chest. Rain starts to pour into your tent, drenching you and all of your belongings before you even have time to process what's happening. You pull yourself out of your soaking wet tent to see the storm raging around you. The trees whipping wildly through the wind, and the rain falling so hard you can barely see. You turn to look at your tent finding a tree branch laying across the fiberglass poles, effectively ripping the top of your tent. 

“Shit!” you scream, trying to pull your soaked belongings from inside. Jake must have heard the commotion, pulling on his boots as he rushes over towards you.

“What’s going on? What happened?” he shouts, dripping wet from the pouring rain. His eyes are panicked as they search yours for an answer. 

“The tree! A branch fell and ripped my tent, everything is wet! I–”

He grabs your arms, pulling you a little closer to him, “Are you okay?” he asks, not caring about the tent. You came first. 

“Yes, yes! I’m fine, I just– my tent!” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. 

He curses under his breath, the sight of your slashed tent and your wet clothes fueling the anger inside of him. "Damn it," he shouts, trying to keep his cool as he surveys the damage. “Okay, look, just, go get in my tent. I’ll be there in a second.”

You nod graciously and head over to his tent, unzipping the flap and stepping inside. It’s much larger than yours and is filled with real camping equipment. It’s warm, and is lit with a lantern. You see his things laying neatly by his bag, and you do your best not to drip water onto everything. 

Jake watches as you head towards his tent, disappearing inside and zipping the flap behind you. He lets out a breath, running a frustrated hand through his hair before he turns back to your tent. He grabs the offending branch, tossing it aside before he starts to gather your items from inside. He carefully picks up your belongings, dashing over to his car and tossing them in the backseat. His boots are caked with mud as he makes his way back to his tent, leaving his boots outside as he joins you inside. 

“I tried to salvage your stuff, but everything is soaked. I put it in my car to dry out but…” he pauses, wiping the rain off of him as is drips down his face. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, realizing that both of you are wet and freezing now. He has the same realization as he crawls towards his bag.

He nods in response to your gratitude, his fingers digging through his belongings to find a dry shirt for you. He pulls out a plain t-shirt, the fabric soft and well-worn. He turns back to you, handing you the shirt as his gaze flits over your soaked form. 

“Here, put this on for now,” he says gruffly, trying to keep his train of thought focused on practicality and not how good you look wearing his clothes. “I just need to change into some dry clothes and then you can go back to sleep.”

“What?” you question, unsure of his logic. 

“I’ll change and then I’ll go sleep in my car, you can take the air mattress,” he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world that you’d get the better accommodations. 

“What? Jake, no. I’m not taking your tent and making you sleep in your car. No way.” you say, putting your foot down. “I’ll sleep in your car.”

He sits there, stunned at your words. He wasn't expecting resistance from you, expecting you to happily accept him taking the brunt of the damage.

“No, Y/N. Absolutely not. You’ll be much warmer here with the sleeping bag and the air mattress. You’re shivering, you’re not sleeping in the cold ass car,” he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I’m not letting you sleep in the car,” you argue. “We can just– both share the air mattress. I’m fine with it if you are.”

He looks at you incredulously, his brain short-circuiting at your suggestion. The thought of sharing that small space with you, of being that close to you in the dark, is both tantalizing and terrifying. He opens his mouth to argue again, but the words get stuck in his throat. He swallows hard, his eyes flicking over your figure again. He wants to protest, to say no and keep his distance, but the look in your eyes dares him to argue.

“Fine,” he relents, his voice gruff and reluctant. “But only if you're sure you're okay with it."

“I’m okay with it Jake,” your voice softer now.

He nods, his eyes searching your expression to be sure you mean it. You nod again and he understands. He digs into his bag again producing a pair of worn gray sweatpants, handing them to you with a gleam in his eye. 

You take the sweatpants from him, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. It's a brief contact, but it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. He turns to give you a bit of privacy, despite seeing you half naked already once today. You quickly strip out of your soaked clothes, shivering from the cold air on your bare skin. You pull on the sweatpants, the warm, soft fabric enveloping your legs. You pull the wet shirt from your body and toss it to the ground before putting on the t-shirt that smells exactly like him. 

“Okay, I'm good,” you say, your voice soft.

He turns around and his breath stutters at the sight of you in his clothes. The sweatpants are a little baggy on you, the legs pooling around your ankles. The t-shirt clings to your curves, the fabric stretched tight over your chest. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body reacting to the sight of you more than it should.

He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool. “You look–” he starts to say, his voice cracking slightly.

“Warm?” you smile, suddenly feeling a bit shy. 

He manages to nod in response to your question, his voice gravelly when he speaks. “Yeah,” he says, his eyes flickering to your face for a moment before darting away again. “Warm."

You turn to offer him the same privacy, listening as you hear his wet clothes hit the ground. He is quick to change, pulling on a pair of boxer shorts and a black long sleeve t-shirt. 

“All good,” he says, moving closer to the air mattress. You try not to stare at him in his boxers, but it’s hard not to. 

He motions towards the air mattress, and you crawl towards it, positioning yourself on one side as he takes the other. You notice that you must be occupying the side he was previously on, seeing a book and a water bottle sitting next to your head. 

He crawls onto the air mattress beside you, the small space suddenly feeling much smaller with the two of you in it. He tries to keep some distance between you both, not wanting to get too close and make you uncomfortable.  The air in the tent is thick with tension, the heat of your bodies so close together in the small space. The rain continues to pour outside, falling harshly against the nylon of the tent.

He can hear your breathing, the sound of each intake of breath filling the silence between you. He's acutely aware of your presence beside him, your body just inches away from his, and he is doing everything in his power from pulling you into him.

“Were you reading?” you ask, trying to fill the silence. He looks surprised that you've spoken, his eyes flickering over to you for a moment. He'd been caught up in his thoughts, lost in the feeling of being so close to you in the small space.

He nods, gesturing towards the book next to your head. “Yeah, I was.” he says, his voice a little gruff. “It's a pretty good book.”

“What's it about?” you ask, rolling to face him.

He takes a moment to remember the premise of the book, his mind still a little clouded with the feeling of being so close to you.

“It's um, it’s a crime thriller,” he replies. “It's about a detective trying to solve a series of murders in a small town. It's pretty intense, actually.” 

You giggle, “I wouldn't have taken you for a thriller novel kind of guy.”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And what kind of guy did you think I would be?” he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“I don’t know. Maybe a biography guy? History maybe?”

He chuckles at your response, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Biographies and history, huh? I mean, I read those too,” he says with a smirk. “But I like a good thriller from time to time.”

He glances over at you, his eyes trailing over your features as you yawn. He reaches over and turns off the lantern, leaving the two of you in darkness with the sound of the rain. 

“You tired?” he asks, his voice a little softer now. 

“Yeah, a little, but that kind of woke me up. I can't lie,” you answer, shivering a little as you lay on the air mattress. Jake seems to notice and immediately sits up, unzipping his sleeping bag and tossing half of it onto your body. His movements are quick and practiced, his eyes flickering to your face to make sure you're covered up.

He lays back down, his body now closer to yours under the shared cover. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of his heart. The silence hangs in the air again, the sound of the rain outside the only noise breaking through the tension between you. He can hear your breathing beside him, your body so close to his under the covers. He's acutely aware of the feel of your body heat radiating against his skin, the proximity of your bodies igniting a spark inside of him.

He tries to keep his eyes trained on the ceiling of the tent, but they keep drifting back towards you, taking in the way your hair fans out around your face as you look at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. 

You slide your hand up to rest on his cheek, warm and stubbly, “Thank you for coming to save me,” you breathe.

His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling of your hand on his cheek, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. He leans into your palm, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the warmth of your touch making his skin tingle. He opens his eyes, looking over at you with a mixture of surprise and something else. Something...soft.

“I'll always come save you,” he says, his voice low and gentle.

Your eyes flick down to his lips, pink and full, before meeting his dark brown eyes again. “All this time I thought you hated me.”

He swallows hard, his eyes fixed on yours as he hears your words. He can feel the tension coiled tight in the space between you, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desire. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering over your face as if he's searching for something. 

Finally, he speaks. “I don't hate you,” he says, his voice low and soft. “I’ve never hated you, I always liked you. Too much, probably.”

“What?”

He takes a deep breath, the words spilling out of him before he can stop them.

“I never hated you, sweetheart,” he repeats, his voice softer this time. “I always liked you, maybe a little too much. I remember when Josh met Clara, he told me that you, specifically, were off limits. Of course at that point it was already too late. I swear it just made me want you more. I knew I couldn't go against him, though. I knew he had his reasons. I just...I didn’t know how to deal with it, being around you and not being able to have you, so I pushed you away. It was the only thing that worked.”

His eyes meet yours, his expression vulnerable and open. “It was easier to be cold to you than to be myself and fall for someone that I can't have.”

“Jake,” you breathe, sliding your thumb against his cheek. He closes his eyes at the sound of his name on your lips, feeling your thumb glide along his skin. It feels like electricity zipping through his body, igniting every nerve ending all at once. He turns his face towards your touch, his cheek pressing into your palm as he revels in the feeling.

“He didn’t even tell me that you were going to be on this trip. He knew I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were going to be here, too. He knew I wouldn’t subject myself to that. Honestly, I was doing okay controlling myself, until today.”

“Today, at the creek…” you continue. 

His eyes flutter open, his gaze locking with yours as he hears you mention it. The memory of that moment floods through his mind, the sight of your body in the water burned into his brain.

He swallows hard, his throat dry as he nods in response. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Today at the creek,” he repeats, his voice hoarse. 

You nod your head and bite your lip as your mind replays its own memories. 

He shifts his body subtly closer to you, the heat between you growing with each passing moment. He can feel the tension building to a fever pitch, the air thick with desire and need.

“I wanted to kiss you, sweetheart. I really did. I almost did. Touching you like that, fuck. You letting me carry you back. Just sitting by the fire with you. It’s the best day I have had in a long ass time. Didn’t want it to end, but I knew you were exhausted. I wanted to tell you tonight, but things just didn’t work out. I figured it was probably for the best,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your hand drops to his chest, the warmth of his skin evident through his t-shirt, “I wanted you to kiss me, Jake. I wanted your hands on me, everywhere. In fact, I never don’t want your hands on me,” you say, feeling his hand nervously slide up and over the curve of your waist. 

He listens to your words, disbelief and desire warring within him as he realizes you feel the same way he does. He swallows hard, his hand on your waist trembling slightly as he absorbs your words. He slides closer to you, his body now pressed snugly against yours under the covers. Your faces are so close that he can feel your breath on his cheek.

“Well fuck me, sweetheart,” he growls. His eyes rake over your features, taking in the way your pupils are dilating with desire, the flush on your cheeks and the way your breath hitches when he moves closer to you.

He’s never seen you look so beautiful, and the realization that he’s the cause of it makes his heart swell in his chest. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispers, his voice barely louder than a breath. 

“Jake,” you beg. 

His heart clenches at the sound of you begging for him, the need in your voice nearly driving him mad with desire. He wants to hear you say his name again and again, to feel your body against his and your skin under his hands.

He leans closer to you, his breath warm against your neck as he speaks. “Say my name again, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

“Kiss me, Jake,” you plead, unable to wait a second longer. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. At your words, he crashes his lips against yours in a desperate kiss, all of the tension and desire between you finally igniting in a blaze of passion.

His hands roam over your body, exploring all the curves he’s wanted to touch for so long. He kisses you deeply, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

He shifts his body over yours, pinning you to the air mattress as he continues to kiss you hungrily. His hands slide up your body, fingers tangling in your hair as he holds your head in place, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth.

He moans lowly, the sound muffled as his body presses flush against yours under the covers. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, the sensation driving him mad with desire. 

Your hands snake around his waist, sliding beneath his shirt, and pulling it up and over his head. He lets out a sharp breath as he feels your hands on his skin, the feeling of your fingers against his bare flesh sending a shiver down his spine. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, pulling back just enough to let you yank the shirt over his head and toss it aside.

He takes a moment to admire your flushed cheeks and the way your eyes trail over his now bare torso. He grins at the hungry look in your eyes as you take in his muscular chest and stomach. 

“Don’t look at me like that sweetheart, it’ll get you into trouble.” he warns.

“I like trouble,” you say, drinking in the sight of him as he pins you to the air mattress. 

He laughs at your response, the sound deep and gravelly in his chest. “You would,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “I think that’s why I like you.”

He leans back down to capture your lips in another kiss, his bare chest now pressed against yours. He runs his hands up and down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips beneath your sweatpants.

As he kisses you, he slips his thigh between your legs, pressing his body even closer against yours. He runs his tongue along your jawbone, trailing kisses along your neck as he moves down to your throat.

He sucks lightly at your pulse point, nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing it with his tongue. His fingers reach for the hem of your t-shirt slowly dragging it up over your body.  “Take this off for me, dove,” he whispers.

You lift up, letting him drag the old, threadbare shirt over your chest. His eyes take in the sight of your bare skin in the low light of the tent. His breath stutters at the sight of your body, the way the light dances across your curves making his throat go dry.

He lets out a low moan as he looks at you, his hands roaming freely over your bare skin. “Goddamn,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gorgeous.”

His hands trace the curves of your breasts, sliding down over your waist and to the waistband of your sweatpants. His eyes lock onto yours as his hands move down your body, his touch searing against your skin. He teases at the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers tracing soft circles against your hip bones.

He can feel the warmth of your body beneath his palm, the way your skin twitches in anticipation under his touch sending a jolt of desire through his body. “Can I take these off?” he whispers, his voice rough with need.

“Please,” you beg. 

He grins at your response, the sound of you begging awakening something primal in him. He slides his hands into the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he slowly starts to pull them down your legs.

His eyes never leave your face as he exposes more and more of your body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. Once he's removed the offending article of clothing, he lets his gaze roam over your body once again. His eyes trail over your bare skin, taking in the way the light from the storm outside casts shadows over your curves. He reaches out, his hands tracing over your legs, his touch gentle and reverent.

He can feel the heat radiating from your core, the way your body responds to his touch making him ache with desire. He leans down, pressing kisses over your stomach and hips, his lips roaming over your skin like a man starved.

You can hardly stand it, the feel of his lips on your skin is making you feel insane, “Touch me, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. He leans back, locking his eyes with yours as he reaches for your hips once again, gripping them firmly.

“I'll touch you, baby,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “As much as you want. Where do you want my hands, sweetheart?”

“Everywhere, Jake. I told you,” you beg. 

“That’s quite the request, darling,” he says, the sound of the air mattress echoing as he repositions himself as carefully as possible. Your hands tug at the waistband of his boxers, eliciting a laugh from his chest. 

“Impatient, baby?”

“I just want you, Jake.” you confess. 

“I want you too, sweetheart, you have no idea,” he whispers, his eyes locking with yours.

He pushes his boxers down, kicking them off somewhere in the tent as he moves back over you. He braces himself on his forearms, his body pressed flush against yours again as he looks down at you. You get a wicked gleam in your eye, hooking your leg around his, and twisting until you are over top of him, straddling his waist. 

He grins up at you, his eyes raking over your body. “Well I’ll be damned, look at you,” he says, a note of surprise and arousal in his voice.

You give him a proud smile, sitting happily on top of him, enjoying the view below. You can feel how wet you are as it coats your inner thighs, and you know he is privy to this as well as the light reflects from your thighs.  

“You look so damn good on top of me,” he says, his voice rough and low. “Like you belong there. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re fucking hot,” you counter, brushing the hair off of his face. 

He lets out a laugh at your words, a grin spreading across his face. “And so articulate too,” he teases, his grip on your hips tightening as he speaks. His hand moves towards your center, his thumb brushing lightly against your clit. 

“Jesus,” you whine, his touch sending you soaring. 

“Not here, love,” he smirks. 

You grind yourself against him, a moan falling from his lips, “What was that you were saying?” you ask playfully. 

“Oh shit,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continue to move against him. He opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he tries to compose himself. “Don’t tease me sweetheart, it’s unbecoming.” he says, his voice rough.

You lift up to your knees, hovering over him enough to grab his length in your fist. A hiss leaves his chest at your touch, his jaw falling open as his eyes lock on yours. You drag his tip through your wetness, his eyes growing impossibly darker at the sensation. 

“Fuck me,” he pants, “Listen, if we’re gonna do this, I want to go slow. I have fucking dreamed about this moment. That and if I fuck you how I want to fuck you, we will pop this air matress. That will be for another time.”

You nod as you slowly sink down over him, taking every inch he has to offer. “Another time, huh? What makes you think–”

He delivers a pointed thrust up into you, stealing the air from your lungs. 

“That. That’s what makes me think, sweetheart,” he answers, grabbing your hips and helping you start to move on top of him. 

“Fuck, Jake,” you whine, feeling him stretch you out so completely. So fully. 

He lets out a low growl at your words, the sound filled with desire and need. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low and gruff.

His hands grip your hips even tighter as you move above him, his fingers digging into your skin as his body responds to your movements. “You feel so good, sweetheart, better than I imagined.” he groans, his eyes locked on yours.

You start to move your hips in a wave pattern, his length hitting you right where you need him. A cry leaves your chest as you toss your head back, feeling his hand move to support your lower back. The heat of the tent combined with the friction between you is making things even hotter, both of you growing sweaty and breathless as you move against each other.

He lets out a low moan, his hands moving up your body to grip your shoulders tightly. “Christ, baby, you’re a fucking dream,” he groans, his body arching up against yours as he snaps his hips up to meet yours. 

“Harder, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a sharp gasp as you say his name, his eyes darkening with desire. “Harder?” he asks, his voice thick and rough. “You want it harder, sweetheart?”

“Please, baby,” you whine.

He lets out a low growl at your plea, his hands tightening on your shoulders. “Yeah sweetheart, I got you.” he murmurs, his voice low and guttural. “Give you anything you want.”

You lean down letting him capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he pulls you closer against him. His hips buck upwards with more force now, his body moving against yours with increasing intensity. Your stomach is burning with need and you know it won’t be much longer until you burst into flames. 

“Don’t stop, baby, please,” you cry out, feeling your stomach growing hot. He lets out a muffled groan at your words, his hands gripping you tighter as he continues to fuck you. 

“God, you feel incredible,” he gasps, his mouth moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His hands move towards your ass, his fingers gripping into the supple flesh as he thrusts up into you. Your skin is slick with sweat and arousal, the lewd sounds filling the tent with the sound of the rain. He can hardly contain his moans now, matching your energy in the small tent.

“Sit up, I want to look at your tits while I fuck you,” he growls. 

You hear a hint of dominance fall from his lips and you can’t help but to obey. You sit up, straddling him again, as he leans up on his elbows to watch you. 

He lets out a guttural moan as you do as he asks, sitting up above him and giving him an even better view of your body. He runs his hand up your thigh, his eyes locked on your face.

“You like this?” you say, swirling your hips in a figure eight. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “I like this a lot.” His hand moves to cup at your tits, bouncing as you continue to fuck him. “You’re so fucking wet for me, baby.”

“I always am,” you say, biting at your bottom lip as you try to stave off your orgasm. 

He smiles at your response, his hands still gripping your thighs. He leans up again, capturing your lips in another intense kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he pulls you closer against him. He bites at your lower lip, his teeth grazing your skin softly. The feeling of his teeth on your skin pushes you over the edge, and you’re sure he can feel you tightening around him. 

“I’m close, baby,” you whine. 

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice thick with desire. "Gonna come for me, sweetheart?"

He slides his hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it slowly and insistently. “Come for me, baby,” he whispers, his mouth moving to your ear. “Come right on my cock, just like this.”

“Come with me, Jake,” you beg, feeling his lips connect to the side of your neck. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, his body shuddering as he nears the edge. “Yeah...yeah I'm there sweetheart, I’m right fucking there,” he gasps, his hands gripping you tightly as his body moves against yours. “Say you’re mine, baby.”

Just the thought of him wanting to claim you as his sends you over the edge, your body giving in to your orgasm as you fall apart on top of him. “I’m yours Jake. Yours.”

He lets out a deep, guttural moan at your words, his body shuddering as he loses himself in your arms. “That’s right sweetheart, you're fucking mine,” he gasps, his voice ragged. “Mine and no one else's.”

He holds you close as he comes, his body shaking and shuddering against yours. "Fuck," he groans, his grip on you tight as he rides out the waves of his own release, hot as it spills inside of you. 

“Jake, fuck,” you pant, finally coming down from what is probably the best orgasm of your life. 

“God you’re fucking sexy,” he pants, “Jesus Christ. Incredible, actually.”

“You’re incredible,” you smile, lifting up and off of him. His hands don’t leave you though, not wanting you to stray too far. 

He grins at your words, his arms tightening around you as he holds you close. “You give me too much credit, sweetheart,” he says, his voice gruff and spent. “We just fucked on an air mattress,” he laughs.

He leans back and looks at you, a satisfied smile on his face. “God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” he admits, his eyes roving over your face.

“Probably as long as I have if I had to guess,” you smile. 

He lets out a low chuckle, a grin spreading across his face as he nods. “You'd be right about that,” he says, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. “I've wanted you for a long time, sweetheart. Longer than I care to admit.”

“Well you have me now?” you say nervously.

His expression softens at your words, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I do,” he says softly. He cups your face in his hand, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “And I'm not letting you go. You're mine now, sweetheart.”

“I think I always wanted to be,” you confess.

He grins at your words, a possessive glint in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nod sweetly as you reach for your clothes, the chill returning to the tent. You hand him his shirt and his boxers, pulling his sweats and t-shirt back over your body. He watches as you dress yourself in his clothing, a satisfied smile on his face. 

“You look so fucking hot in my clothes, please never try to give them back,” he says, his eyes raking over you with a smile. 

You giggle and shake your head, watching him pull his own clothes on before crawling back onto the air mattress. You snuggle into his side, feeling his arms wrap around you. He pulls you closer against him, nuzzling his face into your damp hair, his breath hot against your neck.

He lets out a content sigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin as he holds you close. “I could get used to this,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy.

“Oh, no, I thought you liked camping alone,” you tease with a giggle.

He laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah yeah, shut up,” he says playfully, giving your side a squeeze. He snuggles into you more, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. “Don't get used to me wanting your company,” he jokingly warns you.

“Oh yeah? Want me gone by morning?” you taunt, letting your fingers trace shapes into his stomach.

He grins against your skin, his arms tightening around you. “Oh, I don't know if I'll wait that long,” he teases back. He presses soft, gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder, his lips moving slowly over your skin. “I might just kick you out now.”

“Ahh, there you are. I was wondering where you went. You were being far too sweet.” you tease.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you. “Oh? You prefer me mean, is that it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. He gives you a playful nudge, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I can be an ass if you want, sweetheart. It really is no problem.”

“No, no. I think I'll keep you just like this.” you say nuzzling under his chin. You listen to the steady beating of his heart, feeling your eyes grow tired. He runs his fingers through your hair, a soft, soothing gesture meant to lull you to sleep. He grins slightly as he feels your breathing begin to slow, knowing that you're on the verge of sleep. 

“Tired, sweetheart?” he asks quietly, his voice soft and low.

“I am now,” you whisper. 

He lets out a soft chuckle at your sleepy response, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, his fingers resuming their gentle caresses through your hair. 

“Then close your eyes,” he murmurs, his voice even quieter now. “I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Goodnight, Jake,” you breathe, slipping quickly. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers continuing to gently massage your scalp as he feels you slowly drift off to sleep.

—

You wake the next morning finding that the sun hasn't risen fully yet, and the air is chilly. You’re warm though, wrapped up in Jake beneath the sleeping bag.  He feels you stirring next to him, a smile spreading across his face as he feels you wake up. He's been lying awake for a little while now, just watching you sleep and enjoying the feeling of you in his arms.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep. 

“Morning,” you answer, turning to look at his tired face.

He grins as you reply to him, his arms tightening around you. “Sleep well?” he asks, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

“So good. Did you?” you ask with a sleepy yawn.

He chuckles softly, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah, I slept great,” he replies, his voice still rough and gravelly. He shifts slightly, pulling you closer against him and nuzzling his face into your hair. “Best night's sleep I've had in a long time.”

You smile as you roll into him, placing a kiss on his warm chest.

He lets out a low groan at your kiss, his body shuddering slightly as he feels your lips on his skin. “Careful, sweetheart. You keep doing things like that and we'll never get out of this tent.”

“I’m kinda sad that we have to leave today,” you say, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. 

He smiles down at you, his eyes soft and tender. “Yeah, me too,” he admits, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It's been nice having you all to myself. Don't want to share you with the rest of the world, now.”

You giggle against his chest, a warmth washing over you as you feel his fingers moving lazily against your skin, “Ugh, the rest of the world, don’t remind me…”

“Actually, speaking of, Josh texted me,” he says, a chuckle leaving his chest. 

“Did he?”

“Yeah, said he hoped we hadn’t killed each other because neither of them had heard from us since they left,” he smiles, pulling you tight against him. 

You gasp, realizing he’s right, “Shit, I– I totally forgot about them.”

He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath you, “Yeah, I did too. I guess we were just– a little preoccupied,” he grins. 

“Do we tell them?” you ask nervously. 

He considers it for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face, “I mean, yeah, we probably should,” he pauses, “They don’t need the details, but I think they should know.”

“Won’t Josh be mad?” you ask, scared of his answer. 

He laughs at your question. “Yeah, absolutely he will. He'll give me one of his long winded lectures about being nice to you and treating you right. Make some threats about what he'll do if I hurt you. You know, the usual.” 

You nudge him with your elbow, “Maybe that isn’t a half bad idea,” you tease.

He laughs, feigning offense. “Hey now, don't side with him,” he says, giving you a playful nudge in return. He pulls you closer against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “But seriously, I don't think Josh will be too surprised. I think he's always known something was bound to happen between the two of us whether he wanted it to or not.”

“I’m glad it finally did.”

He grins, his eyes locking on yours. “Me too, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, his body enveloping yours as he holds you tightly against him. “I just wish we had more time alone together,” he says, his voice suddenly serious.

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“I mean, once we leave here it’s going to be different, you know? We’ll have the band, tour, media, friends, all of it. I just– I know it’s a lot to deal with. You’ve been around Josh and Clara, you know how it can be. I just– I want you around, but I don’t want that to scare you away.”

You smirk at him, “It’s not going to scare me away, Jake. I just want you to be really sure this is something you want to get into right now.”

He looks into your eyes, his expression serious. “I’m sure,” he says firmly. “I know it’s not going to be easy. I know there will be challenges. But I’m sure about you. About us.” He takes your face in his hands, his palms cupping your cheeks. “You’re all I want. Nothing else matters.”

You nod your head in his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm, “Okay, then I’m in if you are.”

His eyes soften as you kiss his palm, a smile spreading across his face. “I'm more than in,” he says, his voice low and gruff. “I don't want you to ever doubt that. I'm yours, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you against him. “And I plan on showing you just how much I want you, every single day.”

“Well, everyday until tour starts back up, right?” you tease playfully. 

He laughs, shaking his head at your taunting, “Yeah, alright, smartass,” he grins, giving you a playful pinch on the side. He rolls over on top of you, his body pressing you down into the air mattress as he looks down at you with a smirk. “Don't worry, I'll make up for the lost time.”

“Oh, tempting…Maybe on a real bed? Not an air mattress?” you smirk. 

He chuckles, his eyes raking over your body, "Is this your way of asking me to take you home with me, sweetheart?" he grins.

“Unless you’d like a redo on my twin size,” you quip.

“Baby, have you ever been on a tour bus?” he giggles, pressing kisses to your neck.

You shake your head, laughing as his fingers tickle into your ribs, “No.”

“Mmm, you’re in for a real treat.” He grins down at you, his eyes glinting with desire. "Yeah, I think a real bed sounds like a good idea. And a real shower."

“A shower…” you breathe, the idea sounding desperately appealing. 

He laughs, noticing the way you react to the idea. “Yeah baby, a shower. A big, hot shower with actual water pressure. And a nice bed with sheets and blankets and the best feather pillows you’ve ever laid your head on.”

“Mhmm, maybe we should pack up now and get there immediately,” you giggle. 

“We should.” He presses his lips to yours again, warm as they linger there, “To be continued,” he says, pushing up off of the air mattress and stepping out into the sun. 

You spend the rest of the morning packing up the campsite, tearing down your tents and loading them into his car, sneaking glances at each other every few minutes. Jake works to organize everything into the small trunk, with the addition of your tent and Josh and Clara’s. You drain the cooler as he closes the trunk, dusting his hands off on his pants. “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yep! Just this and we are all set,” you shout. 

He walks over to you, grabbing the cooler and walking it back to his car with you in tow. He opens the passenger side door for you, gesturing you inside, before joining you on the other side. 

“You know, I really am kind of sad to leave,” you laugh, “I never thought I would be saying that, but–”

“It’s a magical place,” he smiles, “S’why I come here so much.”

“Maybe we can come back?” you ask, tilting your head against the headrest. 

“Oh definitely,” he answers, “Whenever you want, sweetheart.” His hand comes to rest on your knee, his thumb stroking against your skin as he navigates the car out of the woods and back towards the road. You give him a warm smile, feeling the air conditioner bring chills to your skin. 

“Hey, I was um, I was serious about you coming home with me,” he says, taking his eyes off of the road to meet yours in a quick glance. 

“Oh, I mean, I would like that. If you’re really sure,” you answer nervously. 

He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze, a smile coming to his lips, “I’m really sure. I want to be with you as much as I can before I leave. Want you in my bed, my shower, the whole house really. All of it. I just want you.”

You blush, his words sending a shockwave through your system, “Okay.”

He grins widely, “Good.” He squeezes your thigh, his palm hot against your skin. “Should be home pretty quick, now.” 

“It is Sunday funday, right?” you giggle. “But, I guess that's kinda everyday for you, isn’t it?”

“Very funny,” he taunts, his expression growing serious, “But yes. It is,” he answers, grabbing your attention as you turn to look at him. He sends you a playful wink as he pats your thigh, letting out a deep breath that almost seemed like he was relieved. 

“Let me make you dinner tonight,” he says, keeping his stare focused on the overgrown highway. “Real dinner.”

“Oh, real dinner, huh?” you tease, placing your hand over top of his. “I feel like I vaguely remember hearing about you being a good cook, but I can’t remember for sure.”

He laughs, “What else have you heard about me, baby?”

Just as you go to answer his phone rings through the car speakers. You can see on the display that it is Josh calling him, and he glances to you before accepting the call. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

“Dude, are you two alive? What the fuck is going on?” he asks, a tone of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Yeah we are alive. You know there’s no reception out there. Kinda the reason I go,” he says, hoping to jog his memory. 

“So you didn’t kill each other, that’s great news.” Josh says, and you can hear Clara laughing in the background.

Jake looks over at you, his eyes silently begging the question of if he should break the news to him. You take a minute to consider the risks but decide there really aren’t any. You nod eagerly at Jake, watching as he nods back in understanding. 

“Hey, uh, you two busy tonight?” he asks, his one hand gripping the steering wheel. 

“Not that I know of, why?” he answers. 

“Well, we are just now on our way back. Need to unload, shower, all that. How about you guys come over for dinner tonight? I’m cooking,” he says. You can sense the nerves in his tone, his face serious as he waits for Josh’s reply. 

“Um, yeah yeah that should be…good. You said we… Is… there a we?” he asks, his voice a little quieter. 

“Just come over tonight. Both of you. Just got some things to tell you,” he says, a smile pulling across his lips. 

A huff leaves his lips, “Things to tell me?”

“Hi Josh!” you say, speaking up on the call. 

“Holy shit, hey Y/N,” Josh answers, a hint of bewilderment in his voice. 

“See you tonight?” you ask, hearing him gasp in shock. You can hear him pull the phone away from his ear, doing his best to cover the microphone with his hand, “Holy fuck, Clara you were right. It happened,” he says in a mumbled mess. You know he did not intend for either of you to hear it, but you did.

“Josh?” Jake says, pulling him back to the call. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “Sorry, yeah– we will definitely be there.”

“See you tonight, Josh?” you ask, lacing your fingers with Jake’s, feeling his warm hand in yours. He leans over and kisses your cheek before settling back in his seat.

You listen to Josh laugh through the speakers, sighing as he speaks, “Yeah, I guess I will see you tonight.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

xo, N

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[moonchild9350]

The Manor

Summary: both you and your boyfriend Chan love haunted houses so you both decide to check out the one in town, but you both find out soon you may get more than you bargained for.

Pairing: Chan x fab!reader, OT8 x reader throughout

Genre: horror, mystery, smut- 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: presence of spirits/ghosts, attempted drowning, knife play, description of blood, use of blindfolds, violence, description of bruising/assault, poison use, unprotected sex (don’t), creampie, fingering, fear induced arousal, use of guns, attempted strangling, voyerism, mention of stabbing, element of dubcon (one scene), Chan's kind of a dick

Notes: This is it! The last fic for spooktober. I appreciated every kind comment, reblog, etc. throughout this month. Happy Halloween!

Let's see if you can decipher who is who as you read through! Let me know your guesses in the comments or my inbox!

If you enjoyed, please consider a like, reblog, comment as it keeps me motivated ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, blood and revenge are hammering in my head.” -Willam Shakespeare

“The Edge Manor, established in 1876. Prime of its time. A well respected family in the community until tragedy struck in 1896 when Clara Edge was murdered by her lover, within the very rooms of the manor. It is rumored her ghost haunts the manor and has been spotted by many guests who come to seek out the horrors that lie within its walls.”

“Babe, this seems like an adventure! Can we go? Please? Please?” You begged your boyfriend Chan, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

You dragged your leg up his, teasing the hairs there as you looked up into his face. You and Chan were avid lovers of anything horror, and that included haunted houses. You both made it a point to visit and see for yourselves if these places were truly disturbed with the dead as reported.

You found out about Edge Manor through a website, others raving about the manor, claiming to have seen many ghosts within its walls. You were a little skeptical however, knowing that whenever people claimed multiple sightings within one house, there was bound to be a lie somewhere.

Nonetheless, you were more than ready to find out if there was truth in the rumors, leading you to the present, pleading with Chan to come with you.

“Of course baby, let’s go,” Chan said, a smirk on his face. “Maybe we’ll see all these ghosts they claim are there,” he said sarcastically, poking you in the side.

You chuckled, holding him close. You were ready for another adventure, the last one being a bust. You both decided to visit the next weekend, since you both were off from work, that way you could stay overnight and thoroughly explore the manor during the day and night.

You were excited, almost giddy, and hoped the weekend after next would come soon.

Your bags were packed and you were making your way down the winding roads, twists and turns at every corner. The lanes were empty, no one being out this far in the middle of practically nowhere.

It was a cloudy day, the sun deciding to hide within the clouds, the threat of a storm in the horizon. There was already a mist descending from the sky, the droplets covering your windshield. Trees littered both sides of the road, the leaves drifting downward and landing softly like a feather.

You were on your way to Edge Manor to meet Chan, as he had left earlier than you. You hummed the song on the radio, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel to the beat, as you focused on the road. You were almost there according to your GPS, your excitement bubbling at the prospect of a thrill of a weekend.

It didn’t take long until the manor loomed in the distance, the large structure betraying its age. The gray stones did not seem welcoming, almost as if it were an omen to anyone that approached to stay away. The shutters covering the windows were falling apart, yet hanging on, adding to the charm of the menacing manor.

You pulled into the long, gravel drive, slowly making your way to the front of the house. Your mouth hung open in awe as you came to the front door, elegant as much as it was rickety.

You put your car in park and opened the door, your foot touching the gravel below with a crunch. You slowly walked up the steps and to the door, your hand grasping the centuries old knob. Opening the door, you were met with a grand foyer, dim lighting illuminating the room.

Your eyes wandered the room, until you noticed a desk in the center, a man standing behind it, his hands placed precariously on the wood. You walked towards him, a smile steadily growing on his face as you approached.

He had long blond hair that framed his almost angelic face. His large brown eyes gazed at you, radiating with a welcoming kindness. His face was littered with freckles, the spots moving as his smile grew bigger, meeting his eyes.

“Welcome to Edge Manor. My name is Felix, the caretaker of the grounds. Will you be staying with us?”

His voice was deep, with a hint of an accent, the syllables echoing off the ornate walls.

“Yes, I’m uhh...I’m meeting someone here, he’s already checked in. Chan is his name.”

“Ah yes, he checked in a little earlier.”

You watched as he rummaged under the desk, muttering under his breath as he searched for something. Finally, he straightened up with an old fashioned key in his hand, the red label reading 325. Felix smiled and handed you the key, his cold fingers softly brushing against yours before he quickly withdrew his hand once the key was safely in yours.

“I do hope you’ll enjoy your stay. If you are in need of any assistance, please do not hesitate to let me know. The stairs to my left will take you to your room.”

You thanked Felix and grabbed your bag, heading to the stairs he mentioned. You made your way up the plush stairs, your feet feeling almost buoyant on the carpeted stairs. Your eyes wandered, looking at the paintings that lined the wall. Each frame showed a different person, each in period clothing.

Stopping at a particular frame, you took note of a young girl in a beautiful lilac dress holding lily of the valley flowers in her arms. She was beautiful with a gentle face, her eyes an illustrious green. As beautiful as she was, there was a hint of melancholy etched into her eyes, her smile not quite reaching the green orbs.

‘This must be the famous Clara Edge,’ you thought.

With one last glance at the girl, you continued down the hall, looking for your room. It didn’t take long, the room being in the center of the hall. Inserting the key, you unlocked the door, and walked inside.

The room was charming yet simple, a little bit of old charm mixed with new. You placed your bag on the dresser, noticing Chan’s bag was there as well. So he was here. You pulled out your phone to contact him, but noticed there was no service.

“Shit,” you muttered, wondering how you were going to get in contact with him. Surely he wouldn’t have started to explore the manor without you.

You decided to freshen up, while waiting for him to return, as you were feeling a little sweaty after the journey. Unzipping your bag, you pulled out your shower supplies and made your way to the in-suite bathroom. Flicking on the light, you took in the room, a simple claw tub in the corner followed by a sink and a toilet.

The bare minimum, but it would do. You turned the water on, humming a song, waiting for the water to warm up. It surprisingly didn’t take long, so you were able to fill the tub, and quickly get in, as there was a slight chill in the air.

Sinking down in the warm water, you let out a sigh, the tension slowly leaving your body. You leaned back against the tub and closed your eyes, listening to the house settle around you, the creaks of the floor boards and groans of the pipes being your background noise. You hoped Chan would come back soon, wanting to be near him in this strange house.

You were thinking of Chan still when you felt odd, like someone was watching you. The room turned colder, the edge of the tub frosting over. You shivered at the sudden change, opening your eyes in confusion at the sudden change.

You tried to get out of the tub so you could get into some warm clothes. You had your hands on either side of the tub, grasping the icy rim when you felt a hand on both of your shoulders, the fingers colder than the air around you. With force, the hands pushed you back into the water, causing some water to spill up and over the edge of the tub.

You almost slipped on your way back down, stopping your head from going completely under the tepid water. Your heart was beating rapidly within your chest, as you almost had gone under.

“Chan? Very funny babe,” you nervously chuckled.

This would be a funny idea of a joke to Chan, trying to sneak up and scare you in a vulnerable moment.

However, when you turned around to look toward the bathroom door, there was no one there, just you alone within the tub. You were confused, more than sure that someone had touched you just now. You almost went under because of it. Shaking your head, thinking it was a fluke, you tried to get up once more.

Suddenly, you were pushed down again, this time your body slipping completely below the water, your head submerged, your hair floating gently in the water like Ophelia. You were shocked, your mouth agape, water flooding your mouth as you scrambled to get out of the water. However, the more you struggled, the harder you were pushed down by the mysterious hands, your head touching the bottom of the tub.

You kicked your feet, thrashed around, trying anything you could do to get your head above water, but to no avail. You screamed, bubbles floating around you as your voice pierced the water, the sound coming out muffled.

What you saw peering down at you from the surface caused you to scream even louder. The hands pushing you down were connected to a body, a man at that.

He had dark hair that layered his head haphazardly, his fox like brown eyes wide and bloodshot. His lips were pale and shriveled, as if he held them under water for a while. His mouth was twisted in anger, his focus trained on keeping you under.

You brought your hands to his, scratching the flesh, fighting to loosen his grip on you. It was becoming harder to breathe as you had swallowed quite a lot of water, the liquid rapidly filling your lungs while fighting off your assailant.

Your vision became fuzzy, the image of the man blurring around the edges. You were about to succumb to your fate, when strong, sturdy hands grabbed you pulling you out the water.

You gasped, taking a deep breath before coughing, spewing water that was trapped within your throat onto the bathroom floor. You looked up to see Chan, who was now cradling you to his side, brushing back your soaking hair from your face.

“What the hell, y/n! What happened?” He exclaimed, a mixture of confusion and fear mixed on his face.

“I...I’m not sure,” you stuttered. “I was taking a bath when I felt a pair of hands push me down under the water. I couldn’t get back up!” You cried, as you clutched onto Chan tighter.

“Sh, sh,” Chan said as he wrapped a towel around you tight. “Let's dry you off and get you into some warm clothes.”

You nodded your head in agreement and held on tight as Chan carried you to the bedroom. He set you down gently on the bed while he rummaged through your bag for some clothes.

He tossed you your panties, some leggings and a shirt, and helped you get dressed. Once done, you both reclined against the bed, sitting in silence.

What was that? What happened? Who was that? Your mind was all over the place, shock at your run in with...with what? Was that one of the famed ghosts of the manor? The man did seem to have a glow to his frame.

You broke the silence, explaining to Chan what you saw and then explaining your theory. He looked at you skeptically, not sure if he wanted to believe it was a ghost, but what other explanation was there?

You felt adrenaline running through your veins, the feeling of fear not quite dissipating yet. Instead, you felt aroused, the brush with death stirring up feelings deep in your core. You squeezed your thighs together, seeking friction to ease the ache. Chan noticed and smirked. “Are you turned on right now?” You smiled slyly as you looked into his eyes. You scooted closer, wrapping your arms around him before kissing him, your tongue forcing its way into his mouth. You were dripping, never having felt this type of arousal before, the balance between fear and adrenaline teetering like the scale of judgment.

You quickly pushed Chan down, his back hitting the pillows, a “mmhft” leaving his mouth at the impact. You shimmied out of your leggings, tossing them to the side and scrambled to reach into his sweats, your hands wrapping around his hardening cock.

Chan let out a groan as you stroked the tip, pushing your panties to the side, before lifting your hips and dragging his cock through your folds. You both let out a moan as you slid down onto his cock, taking him to the hilt.

There was no time for soft and sweet, but only passion, at the experience you both just went through. You braced yourself, placing your hands on his chest, as you began to bounce on his cock, the sound of skin hitting skin reverberating through the room, as you rode Chan hard and fast.

Strangled cries fell from Chan’s lips as he grabbed your hips, the pleasure quickly building within his belly. He was not going to last long. He quickly brought a finger to your clit, the digits rubbing the bud in gentle, but quick circles, bringing you closer to the edge as you fervently swiveled your hips.

You were close, Chan’s cock hitting your spot just right and his fingers toying with your clit. You braced yourself as you tipped over the edge, giving into the sweet pleasure spreading throughout your body, your release coating Chan’s cock. The spasming of your walls triggered his own release, as he loudly groaned, thrusting his hips into yours as spurts of cum coated your walls.

You sat there, your breath heavy as you came down, staring down at your boyfriend who was in no better shape.

“That was insane babe,” Chan said, a smile on his face.

You laughed agreeing and slipped off his cock, his cum dripping down your thighs as you laid down. Chan walked back to the bathroom, grabbing a towel to wipe you down with.

Once he was done, he slid next to you, cradling you to his body. You could feel the adrenaline finally subsiding, your mind returning back to normal. That was definitely a paranormal entity you had experienced, no doubt about it. But who was it?

Your mind couldn’t keep up with your constant thoughts as your eyes drifted close, sleep taking over your exhaustion body.

You awoke, your belly growling signaling to you that you were hungry. It was midday, the room dark as the sun did not shine on this side of the manor, the shadows dancing across the walls as the wind blew the trees outside.

You were still wrapped up in Chan, his arms around you, holding you close. Your mind went to what happened earlier, your body shivering at the memory of your head under water, the look of the unforgiving eyes of the man that held you under. But, your mind also wandered to after, the way Chan felt under you, the way your senses were heightened ten-fold as the adrenaline spread throughout your body. You had never felt that fear before, but then again, you had never been in this type of situation.

Your stomach growled once more, interrupting your thoughts. Carefully, you untangled your limbs from Chan and got up, deciding to find the kitchen to grab a snack.

You walked the halls, rubbing your eyes, making your way down the grand staircase. You passed by the front desk, Felix standing behind it waiting.

“How’s your stay?” Felix asked suddenly, the ever present smile on his face. “Ok,” you replied, stopping in your tracks. “That’s good to hear! If you are of need of anything, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” You didn’t notice this before, but now that you were settling in, you noticed how Felix spoke, as if he was programmed to say what he was saying. You decided not to think too much of it as your belly continued to growl, reminding you of your hunger.

“Felix, where is the kitchen? I’m a little hungry and would love a snack.”

Felix flashed his smile before saying, “Right down the hall here to my right. Fourth door. Take the stairs down into the kitchen.”

“Great, thank you,” you replied, making your way down the hall as directed.

The hall was dim, the flicker of light from the lamps on the walls not providing adequate lighting. There were more pictures on the wall, depicting the previous occupants of the house.

“One, two, three....and four,” you whispered, coming to the door Felix mentioned.

You opened the door to find a stone staircase, leading to beneath the house, the stairs lit with the soft glow of the lamps. There was a draft, the chilly air causing you to shiver where you stood.

Taking a breath, you began to make your descent, the promise of food spurring you on. Once at the bottom, you stepped into a simple kitchen. There was a wood stove next to the refrigerator, the wide sink basin not too far off. It seemed like the original appliances were still in use.

You padded over to a door, assuming the pantry would be located behind it. You were right as it was piled high with various types of chips, boxes of pasta, desserts, and other types of foods that must be used to cook for the guests.

You decided on a bag of chips, grabbing the bag and walking over to a stool. You opened the bag and dug in, the salty snack hitting the spot. It wasn’t very late, dinner time not yet approaching, so you didn’t have to worry about ruining your dinner.

After eating your fill, you got up to put the bag away and then made your way to the sink to wash your hands. While you ran your hands under the warm water, you heard a clink, the sound echoing off the stone walls surrounding you. You quickly turned around, your soaped up hands held in front of you, looking for the source of the sound.

Seeing no one, you went back to washing the suds off. You were almost done when you felt something press at your throat, feeling cold and solid against your skin. You attempted to turn your head, but stopped in your tracks when the solid object dug deeper into your skin.

You could feel a trickle of blood seep from the area, causing you to gasp, realizing there was a knife at your throat. Your breath became shaky, trying not to make any sudden movements and injury yourself further.

“Who’s there?” You asked, your voice trembling with each word.

You could feel your heart beating rapidly, the sound echoing in your ears. No one responded to your question as there was only silence and the occasional ‘plink plink plink’ of the water dripping from the faucet.

You knew someone was behind you however, as you could feel their breath on your neck, not hot as you would expect, but cold. Whoever it was still had the knife pressed to your throat before you heard a haunting whisper. “Turn around slowly,” the voice said.

The knife was lowered and you let out a breath before slowly turning around. You noticed another man in front of you, this one different than the one you encounter during your bath.

He had black hair like the man before, however, his eyes were almost cat like, the orbs piercing into your skull. He gripped the knife in his hand, occasionally twirling the blade.

“Aren’t you a cutie, kitten,” the man said, his eyes roaming your figure before landing back on your eyes, holding your gaze.

You were trembling in your spot in fear, not sure who the man was. The adrenaline was coursing through your system once more, your body posed to flee once the timing seemed right. You kept eyeing the knife, making sure it stayed far away from you. You must have gazed at it too long, as the man noticed, a smirk forming on his face.

“Wanna see my little friend up close?” He questioned, walking closer to you.

He didn’t stop until he was right in front of your face. You continued to stare into his brown orbs as he lightly dragged the knife up your arms, the little hairs on your arms sticking up. He continued his assault across your chest, down the valley of your breasts before coming back up to your chest.

He eyed your throat, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, almost as if he was savoring you in his head. With a quick motion, the knife was back at your throat, the blade pressing in harder than before.

You were terrified, as you felt the metal dig deeper and deeper, a more steady flow of blood seeping from the wound. With each drop of blood, you couldn't help the arousal that seeped into your panties, the material feeling damp against your core.

With each press of the knife, your pussy clenched around nothing, your body desperately seeking for some type of relief. You shouldn’t be feeling this way, but here you were with a knife at your throat, ready to slice you open and you were turned on.

You needed to get away from this man, before anymore damage could be done. You decided to run across the room and up the stairs and into the hallway, locking the man in this infernal place.

Taking a breath, you counted to three before shoving the man hard, your hands meeting the hard surface of his chest. As he stumbled backwards, you made a run for it, making it to the steps in no time. You took them two at a time, not stopping until you were in the hallway, the door closed tightly behind you.

You quickly made your way back to the foyer, your neck still dripping blood from where the knife was held against your skin. Once in the grand hall, you turned to see Felix looking at you in concern.

“Why y/n, you are bleeding! What happened?” Felix exclaimed, walking over to you with a tissue.

You gratefully accepted the cloth, holding it against the wound on your neck. “Come, this way. Let’s go the sitting room.” Felix guided you toward a room to the left of his desk, swinging open the ornate doors. He waited until you stepped in, before following behind you. “Please sit,” Felix murmured. “I will get a first aid kit to clean up your wound. You can tell me what happened then too.” You watched as Felix scurried out the room, shutting the doors behind him. Now that he was gone, you took in your surroundings, not yet having come across this room. It was large, but cozy, various arm chairs and couches strategically placed throughout. You could hear the tick tock tick tock of a clock somewhere in the room, but other than that, it was silent.

There was a large bay window at the other end of the room. You got up and walked toward it, wanting to see where it overlooked. There was a massive yard, the grass green despite the time of year. It was neatly manicured, keeping up with the prestige of the house.

You were lost in thought, your mind not yet recovered from what just occurred. You weren’t sure what was happening in this house, but you wanted nothing more than to be with your boyfriend, his warm, muscular arms wrapped around you.

As you daydreamed, your head off in the clouds, you did not notice the shift in the air, how the temperature dropped a degree or two, or how there was a presence behind you, gazing at you.

You continued to stare out the window until you felt something cover your eyes, the material soft and delicate, obscuring your eye sight.

“Chan?” You asked, your voice quivering slightly.

“Shhh, behave,” the voice responded, deep and sultry just like Chan’s can be in the bedroom.

You giggled, slightly relaxing at the fact that your boyfriend found you, and not some other person. You started to turn around when a hand stopped you, before turning you back to face what you assumed was the window.

You felt hands glide from your shoulders down your arms, causing shivers to run down your spine. It occurred again and again and again before they made their way to your belly, the digits softly splaying across your soft flesh.

The hands reached lower, reaching your thighs, caressing the supple flesh, as you let out a low moan. Your panties became even more wet, your slick soaking the material as you felt the hands continue to touch you softly, gently, slowly, building anticipation as to what was to come.

You felt a body behind you, the muscular frame pressed against your back so similar to Chan’s, hands continuing to touch you, locking you in.

“Please,” you whimpered, more than ready for him to touch you where you needed it most, to relieve the ache that had never quite gone away, as it steadily built up through your encounter with the man with the knife and now with your boyfriend’s hands touching you, teasing you.

You let out a sigh as the hand finally slipped into your leggings, pass your panties to cup your core. You tried to hold back your moans as you felt a thick finger dip through your folds, teasing your entrance before traveling up to your clit.

The slightest pressure was applied to the nub, causing you to jerk your hips into his hands. You leaned back onto the muscular frame behind you, completely surrendering yourself to the pleasure, as gentle yet firm circles were applied to your clit, bringing you closer to that high you desperately needed.

You felt your knees begin to buckle, needing to move to brace yourself against your high that was ready to explode at any moment. However you couldn't move as his muscular arm was wrapped around you, holding you up, making sure your body was flush with his.

You teetered on the edge of ecstasy, your breath shaky, your toes curling in your shoes, as your hips rocking against the finger that was pressed to your bundle of nerves. Despite the blindfold, you saw colors, the spots swirling this way and that as you tipped over the edge, your hands coming up to grab the two that were wrapped around your body.

You dug your fingernails into the flesh, riding out your high before taking a shaky breath and slowly letting go. The hand move up and out of your leggings, the other arm dropping from your body. The presence of the body behind you was gone in an instant, leaving you alone and out of breath.

You removed your blindfold, ready to turn around and wrap your arms around your boyfriend. However, when you did turn around, there was no one there, only the lingering chill was present in the air. Your eyes scanned the room confused, knowing you would have heard or caught Chan before he left the room.

That was Chan right? It sounded like him, felt like him, but now you’re not so sure. He wouldn’t leave you like this. You looked down at the blindfold that was covering your eyes a moment ago and fingered the material, soft and silky against your touch.

It seemed to be a scarf, one that was not yours. Your started to panic, wondering who you just let touch you in such an intimate way. You didn’t have much longer to fret as the door opened, Felix entering the room with a bag in his hands.

He closed the door and walked towards you, his ever present smile on his face. “Found the first aid kit y/n. Please sit down and I can clean your wound.” You listened to what the blond said, sitting down on the closest couch, surprised that you forgot all about your wound. The blood seemed to have since stopped, the red caked onto your clammy skin.

You watched as Felix opened the kit, pulling out antiseptic, gauze, cream, and a bandage. It was almost calming watching him work, determination in his eyes as he began to clean your wound.

You couldn’t help but stare at his face, taking in his beautiful eyes, soft and gentle, focused on the task at hand. Your eyes wandered his face, taking in the hundreds of freckles that littered the area, enhancing his beauty.

You watched his lips open, as he asked, “So what happened?”

You blinked once, twice before answering, “I was attacked in the kitchens. I was cleaning up after my snack when a man with cat like eyes attacked me, holding a knife to my throat.”

Felix stopped what he was doing, taking a moment to look at you more closely.

“A man with cat eyes?” He asked skeptically.

You looked into Felix’s eyes, trying to read his expression, as it went from shock to almost a knowing look, and then back to shock as if he was trying to cover up something. You may be mistaken but it seemed as if he knew of the man that you described.

“Yes,” you responded. “Is this anyone else staying here besides Chan and I?”

“No, you two are the only ones here at the moment. No one else is supposed to be here until Monday.”

You pondered Felix’s answer as he continued to dress your wound. He was placing the bandage when the door opened again, this time Chan stepping through. When he spotted you sitting on the couch and Felix placing a bandage on, he rushed over, concern on his face.

“Baby, what happened?” He asked, sitting by your side.

You explained everything, as Felix cleaned up the wrappers and dirty linens, silently listening to your tale once more. Once you were done, you didn’t dare look at Chan. You left out what recently happened, your mind wanting to believe that it was indeed Chan who you let touch you.

“Are you sure that’s what happened?” Chan asked, uncertainty in his eyes. You nodded your head. “Yes, I am completely sure.” This was the second time he's questioned your story. Did it really sound that crazy? Who are you kidding, of course it does, you can't blame him really for not believing you. Chan looked at Felix who looked down at his hands, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of his pants. Chan didn’t know what to believe if he was being honest. First the drowning situation and now this? He didn’t want to say anything to upset you, especially in front of Felix.

“Maybe you need fresh air baby, may do you some good.”

You looked at your boyfriend, searching his face for what he was thinking. A walk to clear your head honestly sounded appealing. Maybe fresh air truly is what you needed as this manor was starting to get to you.

Felix cleared his throat, trying to get both of your attention. “There’s a garden out behind the manor. There’s a little flower garden, a mini maze, and some chaise to lounge in. You two go ahead, I’ll prepare snacks and some tea.”

You both nodded and stood up. Chan grabbed your hand, holding it tight in his. You felt comforted and reassured, squeezing his hand for good measure. Chan smiled at you before guiding you out of the sitting room, leaving Felix behind.

Felix watched both of you exit the room. He was at a loss, not sure what to do. The events were occurring again, as he thought they would with a perfectly happy couple staying at the manor. He just hoped things wouldn’t get out of hand the way they did last time.

The fresh air was exactly what you needed. It was nearing dusk, so the air was crisp, filling your lungs with each breath you took. You walked with Chan hand and hand, exploring the backyard, neither one of you in a hurry.

The birds were chittering, as they prepared for night, making last minute runs for food and flying to their homes. You both came across the garden first, taking in the hundreds of flowers resting peacefully in their home. The vibrant colors spilled over onto the walkway, their scent mixing with the cool air.

“They’re so beautiful!” You exclaimed, taking in each flower as you walked past.

Chan hummed agreeing with you, taking in the flowers as well. “This place is beautiful,” he said, “It’s old and filled with history. The manor itself feels...”

Chan paused for a moment, causing you to look up at him. “It feels alive almost,” he finished.

You couldn’t agree more. The manor did feel alive, unsettled almost. You were sure there were spirits present, given that you may have already encountered three of them. You pushed that thought from your mind however, and continued your walk.

You neared some green shrubbery, the neat hedges forming walls on either side of a dirt walkway. This must be the maze Felix mentioned.

“Wanna go in?” Chan asked, looking at you before looking back at the entrance.

“Sure,” you responded.

You thought for a moment, an idea coming to the forefront of your mind. It was probably not the best idea given everything that has occurred, but at least Chan would be in the same vicinity as you.

“Wanna split up and whoever makes it out first gets to buy ice cream when we get back home?”

Chan grinned at your suggestion, “You’re on baby.”

You smiled and then untangled your hand from his. You walked to another entrance that was a few feet away. Giving your boyfriend one last glance, you stepped into the maze, the green walls closing you in.

You walked down the path, carefully making decision after decision as to which direction you wanted to go. You thought you were doing pretty well and hopefully close to the end when you came across a small clearing in your path. In front of you was yet another man, sitting on a stool in front of a canvas, a paintbrush in his hands.

He was just staring at the canvas, the bristles not quite touching the white expanse before him. You tried to be quiet as you turned to go back the way you came, that is until your foot came down on a branch, the brown stick snapping in two.

The man looked up and turned your way, his mouth agape at the interruption. “Ah! A new muse!” He exclaimed, excitement in his eyes as he gazed at you. “Come, come! I must paint you.” He gestured for you to sit on another stool that was definitely not there a moment ago. You cautiously walked over, sitting on the stool, as you looked at the man anxiously.

He had long dark hair, the waves framing his face perfectly. His eyes seemed gentle enough as they darted from you to the canvas. He was wearing simple clothes, his shirt haphazardly hanging off of his shoulders, smattered with various colors.

You listened as he began to mutter, his plush lips opening and closing, forming syllables you couldn’t quite make out.

After mixing some colors he began to paint, the brush lightly dancing across the canvas. You sat in fear, your eyes widened, hands clasped tightly in your lap. You didn’t dare move, not sure what this man was capable of. Time passed, the sky getting darker, the stars starting to peak out in the night sky. You were growing stiff after sitting for so long. You really ought to find Chan, sure he would be worried about you.

“I’m going to...” But before you could finish your sentence, the man sprang from his seat, rushing over to you quickly.

“No, no! You must not leave. The painting is not yet finished my muse!”

You stared into the man’s eyes, now wide and crazed, a sort of desperation in them. You couldn’t help the tingling feeling that began to form in your core, the adrenaline once again coursing through you as you gazed upon his beautiful face. You should be terrified, as this man did not seem stable, however you found that the terror was mixed with desire and lust.

“Here my muse, hold these. They will complete the painting perfectly.” You opened your arms as the man produced a bouquet of flowers. They were dainty and delicate, the white petals enticing to the eye. You were not sure what type of flowers they were and as you opened your mouth to ask, you noticed the man had begun to wildly paint, the brush covering the canvas in more hurried strokes.

“What kind of flowers are these?” You asked, your eyes never leaving his back.

He smirked and continued to paint, his docile face turning over to a more crazed and sinister look. “Hemlock my muse, the perfect flower for the perfect girl on this perfect night. It will complete the painting perfectly.”

Hemlock...hemlock, you repeated in your mind. You had actually heard of the flowers, somewhere at some point in time. But...wait a minute...weren’t hemlocks poisonous, one of the deadliest flowers in the world? You quickly dropped the bouquet, fear etched on your face at what you just touched.

The man looked up, anger in his eyes. He rushed at you and gripped your shoulders, the crazed look in his eye intensified.

“Why did you drop them my muse? Why! Now the painting is ruined, ruined once more!” He screamed into your face.

He was shaking you roughly, your head bobbing back and forth like a rag doll. You had tears in your eyes, as you struggled to get away. However, every time you were able to get loose from his grip, he’d hold onto you tighter, shaking you harder. You were hysterical, clawing, thrashing, and even tried to bite the man, trying to get away so you could run.

The man suddenly stopped shaking you but still gripped your arms. He grinned, an evil look in his eyes, his tongue darting out to lick his plush lips.

“I know how I can finish my painting with my muse!”

In his hand, he produced a flower, the same ones that you were holding moments before. You shrieked as he began to try to shove the flower past your lips, trying to get you to ingest the poisonous beauty.

You kept your lips shut tight, twisting your head left and right, trying to avoid ingesting the flower. Each time you rejected his advances, the angrier and more forceful he became.

You feared for your life, worried this would be the end. Where was Chan? Can he hear your screams, your cries for help?

Just when you were about to give up, you heard a voice and multiple footsteps pound on the gravel, getting closer to you by the second.

As soon as the frenzy began, it stopped, the man and easel with the canvas gone. It was just you, standing in the middle of the path, tears streaming down your face, your hair a mess, and angry bruises beginning to form on your arms from where the man grabbed you.

“Y/n!” Chan yelled, relief in his voice as he made eye contact with you, running to your side and engulfing you with a hug.

Felix made an appearance a moment later, his eyes widened at the scene. You were shaking, hysterical as Chan tried to calm you down, holding you close as you clung onto him.

Night had now fallen, the moon shining bright in the sky, making the maze seem less friendly. You were not sure how long you had stayed on that pathway, being comforted by Chan.

Eventually, the tears stopped and you took a deep breath. You were ready to go back to the manor, the once cheery and harmless garden to you, now filled with darkness and evil lurking around every corner.

“Can we go back?” You hiccuped, looking from Chan to Felix.

Both men nodded and quickly led you away from the maze, the green shrubbery now appearing menacing in the darkness of the night. It didn’t take long for you to make it back to the manor, Felix ushering you both inside before closing the doors and locking them.

“You can both take dinner in the sitting room if you’d like.” Felix said.

Chan guided you to the large room, gently sitting you down on the couch. He sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms, cradling you. You felt much calmer, the threat of the maze gone. You were once more moments from death, which did not sit well with you.

Chan seemed none the wiser, seeming to enjoy his stay at the manor. No crazy events occurred to him. You were confused, wondering why everything was happening to you and not him. What did this place have against you?

Felix brought in dinner consisting of sandwiches and chips, topping it off with tea which you had no problems with and gratefully accepted. You nibbled on the meat and bread, your stomach still uneasy after what just occurred. Nonetheless, you finished your meal and afterwards, settled in next to Chan. “Ready for bed baby?” Chan asked with gentleness in his eyes. You nodded yes and got up, Chan grabbing your hand as you both walked back to your room. You thanked Felix for the food and his help, a smile gracing his face at the praise. He bid both of you goodnight as you started to ascend the staircase.

Once in the safety of your room, you quickly changed clothes and crawled into bed, as you were exhausted. Chan slid in next to you and pulled you close, his hand reaching up to brush your hair from your face.

“Wanna talk about what happened today? I’m worried baby,” Chan said, his eyes searching yours.

“No, I...I just want to sleep,” you whispered, lowering your eyes so he couldn’t see the pain there.

It didn’t take you long to drift off to sleep, the thoughts of men with knives pressed to your throat, unknown hands caressing you gently such as your boyfriend does, and crazed men in front of a canvas swirling around in your head. You were shocked you could sleep at all.

You hoped you could sleep through the night, hoping to maybe bring up with Chan that you both go home tomorrow, away from this place, from this cursed manor.

The next morning you arose, your eyes still heavy with sleep. You did not sleep as well as you wanted, cuddling up to Chan as close as possible each time you awoke. Chan was sitting up, on his phone, his arm draped around you as in to provide protection.

“Good morning baby,” Chan said a smile on his face.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice thick with sleep.

You sat up, stretching your arms before laying your head on Chan’s shoulders. You laid there, watching him read his book on his phone, feeling safe and warm within the comfort of his arms. You were so warm that you could drift off any moment, your eyes threatening to close.

“Wanna go downstairs to get something to eat and maybe explore a little more?” Chan eventually asked, exiting the book he was reading.

You wanted nothing more than to pack up and leave, but maybe you could bring that up after a belly full with food; therefore, you agreed, getting up to get ready. It didn’t take you long, as you threw on a t-shirt and leggings and put your hair up, not caring what you looked like.

You did take a look in the mirror, noticing the bruises on your arm, now a dark red with purple splotches littering your skin. You took in the bandage on your neck, a reminder that you were held at knife point. Your eyes looked tired, dark circles forming beneath them. You looked a wreck, like you had been through hell and back. Shaking your head, you made your way over to Chan, giving him a small smile letting him know you were ready.

Chan grabbed your hand and led you out of your room and down the stairs, making your way to the dining room. You noticed upon the table was a spread of pastries, fruit, bagels, carafes of coffee and jars of water. You picked out a pastry and poured you a cup of coffee before sitting down next to Chan who had chosen a bagel and was scarfing it down.

You ate in silence, slowly picking away at your food. You decided to bring up the topic of going home, as it was as good a time as ever.

“Chan?” You asked with uncertainty. Chan looked up at you expectedly giving you his full attention. “Can we uh...go home? I kinda have had enough of this manor,” you continued, your voice trailing off towards the end. Chan regarded you for a moment. You knew the wheels were turning in his head.

His eyes studied yours, then traveled to the bandage on your neck, to the bruises on your arm.

“We have one more night baby,” Chan replied. He didn’t really want to leave, not quite yet, as you both still had so much to explore.

You stared at Chan in disbelief, your fingers frozen as you were picking apart the last of your pastry. You really didn’t want to stay another night, not wanting to encounter anymore surprises. However, Chan looked hopeful, his eyes never wavering from yours. You’d have to suck it up and endure one more night...for him.

“Fine...” you said in disdain, quickly looking away. Chan reached out to grab your hand in his, his thumb gliding over your knuckles. “One more night baby and then we’ll be home.” One more night.

Sure, you can do this...right?

After breakfast, Chan explained he needed to run back to your room to grab his phone since he left it on the bedside table. He kissed the top of your hand, ensuring you he would be right back.

You watched as he ascended the stairs, taking two at a time. You turned away, seeing Felix standing behind the front desk.

He offered you a smile before going back to his book. You were going to wait for Chan, until you heard a soft melody playing off in one of the rooms. You looked to Felix to see if he heard the music, but he was engrossed in his book, not even looking up.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to investigate the music, following the melancholic notes to a door near the door that led to the kitchen. Twisting the knob, it silently opened, giving way to a beautiful, yet empty room. There were stained glassed windows, the beautiful depictions of cherubs, gods, and goddesses causing a glow in the room.

Your eyes wandered to the center of the room, where there was a white Baby Grande Piano, a man sitting on the bench. His fingers were dancing gracefully amongst the keys, the resulting music sounding hauntingly beautiful. You stood in the doorway as if in a trance, the notes flowing into one ear and out the other.

Whoever it was played beautifully, as they told a story through their fingertips. You carefully walked toward the man, putting one foot in front of the other. You were getting closer and closer, noticing that he had curly brown hair. You wanted to get a look at his face, so you continued to walk, as he continued to play.

You were almost upon him when he suddenly stopped playing and before you knew it, swiveled around on the bench, his arm outstretched with a pistol in his hand. You froze on the spot, your eyes wide, as your brain tried to register that a gun was pointed at you, straight at your heart.

The man didn’t speak but stared at you, his gaze never wavering. He didn’t even blink. He had on glasses, the sun’s rays radiating off the rims. His cheeks were round, with heart shaped lips in between.

Time passed, as you stayed frozen, not daring to move, the man staring you down, his arm never lowering. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, the sound so loud that surely it could be heard from where the man was standing. You needed to get out of here before something bad happens.

Trying to be careful, you took a step back, your toe touching the ground first followed by the ball of your foot and then your heel. Your eyes never left the mans, hoping he wouldn’t notice your movement.

However, you knew you had made a mistake when you heard him cock the pistol, the sound ringing out loudly in the near empty room, his arm steady throughout the whole process. Were you really going to die here? You had no way out, not knowing if you could make it out before he fired the gun.

“Please!” You pleaded, tears starting to form in your eyes, “Please let me go!”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears however, as the man simply smiled and pulled the trigger, a gunshot reverberating in the empty room. You stumbled backwards as you let out a scream. You looked up and saw smoke raising from the barrel, obscuring the sneer on the man’s face.

He was preparing to fire at you again, the ‘click’ echoing loud and clear in your ears. You took your chances and made a run for it, running as fast as you could to the door. It didn’t take long, but right as you exited the room, pulling the doors shut, another shot rang out, causing you to duck.

You whimpered as you saw a bullet size hole in the door, right where you were standing only moments before. Standing up, you made a run for it, running towards a door across the hall.

Once safely inside, you sank to the floor, hugging your knees as you tried to regulate your breathing. You almost died, the phrase repeating over and over in your brain. There was a gun pointed to your head, the trigger pulled.

But what’s new? Right? You were so busy in your thoughts, you didn’t notice you had taken refuge in a library. There were book shelves lining the walls, the shelves stacking all the way to the ceiling. Each shelf was filled with books, the smell only books can give off permeating the room.

You got up, and started to look around, your current predicament forgotten. It didn’t seem as if the man was going to follow you. You were safe. You browsed shelf after shelf, noticing various themes of books, the topics catching your interests.

However, the book that caught your interest the most was a large green book, laying on a large wooden desk in the center of the room. You gently brushed your fingers over the cover, taking in the delicate details that were drawn on. There was no title to the book.

You looked at the door to ensure no one was coming in and then opened the book to see what was inside.

Victims of Edge Manor

Read the title on the first page. You thought this strange, but continued to read on, noticing there was a list of names.

Lee Felix Yang Jeongin Lee Minho Seo Changbin Hwang Hyunjin Kim Seungmin Han Jisung

What did these names mean? What did it mean by victims? There was no other information besides the names, leaving you quite confused. You continued to flip through the book, searching for any other information that you may have missed.

“You won’t find anything in there,” a voice said, startling you.

You looked up to see yet another man, with a docile face, his hair short. He reminded you of a golden retriever, which was odd. Yet again, you did not hear him come in.

“What do you mean?” You asked, as you carefully closed the book.

You were on edge, not sure who this person was and why they decided to sneak up on you. You eyed him closely as he slowly walked toward you, his hands behind his back.

“There’s nothing in there but names,” the man calmly said. “But why? Who are they?” He didn’t answer but continued to walk towards you. “You’ll know soon enough,” he cooed, a smirk appearing on his face. He was close to you now, just on the other side of the desk. Your warning bells were going off, telling you to proceed with caution, especially since you didn’t know what was behind his back.

“It’ll soon be over y/n, don’t worry.”

How did he know your name? Did Felix tell him? Was he a new guest? You did not know and frankly you didn’t want to find out.

“Ok...” You said, making your way towards the door. “I’m going to leave now.”

The man eyed you, the smile still plastered on his face. You backed away, never turning your back towards him. You felt you were almost there until you bumped into something, the item brushing against your head.

With a moment’s notice, the man was next to you, grabbing the item that bumped against you. You barely had time to react while he attempted to force a rope around your neck. However, you made it just in time, keeping your hand up at the level of your eye.

The man struggled against you, as he sneered, attempting to lower your head so he could tighten the rope. You tried to scratch at his eyes, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your brain telling you to survive.

One of your swipes made contact, your nails digging into the skin of his face. He yelled in pain, his hands dropping the rope to instead protect his eyes. You used this opportunity to run the rest of the way to the door, flinging it open and running down the hall, away from the man, away from the library, away from the rope that would have made it’s home around your neck if you hadn’t gotten away.

You weren’t paying attention to where you were going bumping into something... or someone. You yelped and stopped in your tracks, looking up to see Chan, his hands holding you up. Felix looked on in shock, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

“Baby, what happened? Why are you running?” Chan exclaimed.

“There were two men! One in some sort of music room, the other in the library... they both tried to kill me!” You yelled.

You noticed Felix’s face blanche at your outburst, the color draining from his face. He knew something, you just knew it, and you were going to demand he tell you what he knew.

“You know something!” You said, pointing your finger at Felix accusingly.

Felix stuttered at your accusation, not knowing what to say. Eventually, he gave up and hung his head.

“Very well, I shall tell you everything I know.”

Felix walked around the desk and gestured towards the sitting room. “Let’s talk in here.”

You and Chan followed him, sitting down on a couch while Felix sat in a chair across from you. You looked expectedly at Felix, waiting for him to speak.

Felix cleared his throat before beginning.

“You all know that the Edge’s lived in this manor, the most prestigious family of its time. Clara Edge was the mistress of the house and the heir. She needed to marry quickly so the deed could go to her husband, as women were not able to own the manor back in that time period.”

Felix looked at you and Chan, making sure you were both still listening. You nodded at him, signaling he had both of your undivided attention. Felix nodded and continued.

“Clara did indeed find her true love, one she could marry and pass on the family’s good name. The date was set for them to marry, everything was in order. It was a happy time for the household. That is...until Clara found out her husband to be was being unfaithful, catching him with a girl from town.”

“She was heartbroken, her spirit crushed. The wedding was canceled, as she could not be with an adulterer. She was sad, but also angry, her fury getting the best of her whenever he appeared at the manor or when she saw him in town. She’d badger him, ask him again and again ‘why, why, why.’ He never did answer her, just brushed her away, taking the new girl’s hand in his.”

You listened intently. You could feel you were close to the answer, you just needed to listen a little more. You looked at Chan who squeezed your hand in response. You both turned to look at Felix once more, as he continued the tale.

“One day, Clara invited him to the manor, under the pretext that she wanted to make amends. He came right away, happy to put everything behind him so he could move on with his new lover. No one really knows what was said between the two, but before you know it, he walks out of her room, holding a bloody knife, his face grief-stricken. They found Clara on the floor, riddled with fifteen stab wounds. She died instantly, one of the wounds puncturing her lungs. As time went on, those who visited the house and stayed here, report spirits of men and sometimes Clara herself. It seems she goes after couples, her heart full of malice, still distraught that her relationship didn’t work out.”

“We speculate that if she couldn’t be happy, then why should other couples be happy. There have been other deaths within these walls since then, all at the hands of Clara’s ghost. It started with the women and then progressed to the men. Now she enlists the spirits of the men who passed within these walls to target the guests, having them kill in the manner in which they were murdered.”

Felix stopped, taking a breath and looking at both of you. You were in shock, your brain trying to catch up with this information.

“So, all of the men I’ve encountered...” you didn’t finish the sentence, willing to hear it confirmed by Felix. It all made sense…the violent mannerisms you’ve experienced at the hands of the men, all except for one; but, you willed yourself not to think of him, how you gave yourself up so willingly to a stranger.

“Yes, all are victims of Clara and the manor, enlisted to carry out her revenge.” Felix responded.

You watched as he fiddled his thumbs, not looking at you. Something seemed off with him, but you weren’t sure what.

“I saw names in a book, were those the name of those that died here?” You asked, scooting to the edge of your seat.

Felix meerly nodded, still not looking at you and Chan.

“Thank you Felix, I think we will take our leave now. I don’t think we’ll be staying the extra night after all,” you said.

Chan looked at you in shock, but said nothing. You pulled him along, past Felix, through the doors and up the stairs. Once behind the doors of your room, you began to pack, throwing everything in your bag, not caring about folding anything.

You were scurrying around the room when Chan stopped you, his hand on your wrist.

“Y/n, stop!” He said, pulling you to him. “Will you wait, let’s talk about this.”

“What is there to talk about?” You asked in a frenzy. “We’re being targeted, we need to leave. Now.”

Chan regarded you for a moment, his eyes looking deeply into yours. He rubbed soothing circles on your hips, attempting to calm you down. You hated when he did this, knowing the effect it has on you.

You were starting to calm down, your breathing slowing, your mind clearing of the horrors you just learned, but you also felt something else build within. You felt the heat within your core slowly spread throughout your body.

Chan pulled you closer until your lips met, the kiss gentle at first before turning more frenzied. You mewled as you felt Chan pull your leggings and panties down hurriedly, pushing you onto the bed. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his sweats down enough to free his cock.

You spread your legs, your slick leaking out, coating your folds causing them to glisten. You realized it never really stopped since you arrived at this retched place. He grinned at how wet you were, dragging his cock from your clit to your entrance, pushing his cock into your little hole, the slide easy with how wet you were, taking him to the hilt.

You both groaned in unison, as he began to pummel into you, as he dragged his lips along your neck, placing uncoordinated kisses on your skin. You gripped the edges of his hair, holding his head to you as he continued to thrust quickly, his cock brushing against your spongy spot, taking you higher and higher.

You were lost in Chan, your mind forgetting about what you just heard, everything you’ve learned. You were wrapped up in Chan, letting yourself go as Chan’s cock bullied itself within your walls. You felt close, and you knew Chan was too as his thrusts became more sporadic as he tried to get you both over the edge.

You were so close to your release until you opened your eyes and noticed a figure above you.

A beautiful woman in period clothing, the gown stained in a dark maroon, holes scattered throughout the fabric. Her brown hair hung down her face in ringlets, causing her face to appear pale in comparison. She had a glow around her frame, giving her a ghoulish appearance. There was malice in her eyes as she stared down at you, as Chan continued to pump his cock into you, none the wiser to who stood behind him.

You screamed and pushed Chan off of you, watching as he stumbled, his eyes in disbelief. You scrambled to get your clothes back on as Chan stuttered, wondeing what was wrong.

“Let’s go!” You said, rushing to grab your bag even though you weren’t done packing.

Chan couldn’t get a word in, but pulled his sweats up and followed after you, running to catch up with you. You both made it down the stairs, pass the desk, pass Felix who watched you both in shock. You flung open the front doors and continued to run, not stopping until you got to your car.

“I guess I’ll follow you home,” Chan said, confusion still on his face.

You nodded as you got into your car, throwing your bag into the back seat. You started your car and pulled away, exhaling with relief as the manor grew smaller behind you.

As you got closer to the entrance, you gasped as you looked through the rearview mirror at the manor. What you saw made the color drain from your face.

Not only was Felix standing on the stairs, but also the other victims, Jeongin, Minho, Changbin, Jisung, Seungmin, and Clara. They all watched you drive away, not happy their victims got away.

Of course Felix was there, as you just realized he was a victim too. Your mind briefly wondered how he became a victim, but you stopped yourself immediately, not really caring.

You shook your head and faced forward, driving away from the weekend from hell, never to look back again.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

[ckret2]

Chapter 69 (lol) of human Bill Cipher being a prisoner with terrible fashion sense: beach episode!!! Well, lake episode. Close enough.

And a few other people come to town.

Just after dawn, a sleek, nondescript black government SUV, now dusty from a long drive, parked in front of the Gravity Falls Police Department. Three agents in sleek, nondescript black suits stepped out.

As they left the car, Blubs came out to meet them, Durland trailing behind him. "Agent Powers, Agent Trigger! Good to see you again." He shook Powers's hand, then glanced at the new agent. "And you are...?"

"Agent Dale!" The rookie shook Blubs's hand next, beaming. "Very pleased to meet you. I was just saying in the car—you have a beautiful town here, just beautiful."

"Wouldn't stop talking about it," Trigger muttered.

Blubs chuckled. "Why, thank you. We're quite proud of it ourselves."

Durland said, "Say, Agent Dale—don't you agents usually have tougher-sounding codenames?"

"Agent Clyde S. Dale. Like the horse."

"Ohhh. Yup, that'll do it."

"Sheriff Blubs," Powers said. "I trust you have the requested materials?"

"Right inside," Blubs said. "We've got the readings on last week's gravity anomaly from McGucket's scanners, and reports on this weekend's power surge."

"No overlap between the incidents?"

"None anyone here detected."

"Hmm. Has anything else strange happened since we were last in town?"

Blubs hesitated. "Well—never mind all that." He quickly shifted topics, "Say, I like your 'honk if you want to be arrested' bumper sticker." ("Oh is that what it says?" Durland asked.)

Agent Powers said solemnly, "I can get you the contact information of the shop where I bought it. It's a very nice small business run by art students."

"Would you? That'd be delightful."

Powers paused before following the cops and his agents into the police department, glancing out at Gravity Falls' town square—the modest little main street shops, the town hall, the statue of the town founder, the distinctive water tower with the faded muffin graffiti, and the familiar mountains surrounding the little valley town.

And then he let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Fine," he muttered grumpily, glaring at the town as though it were an old rival as annoyed to see him as he was to see it. "Let's just get this over with."

He followed Blubs into the police department.

####

"Attention, everybody," Stan said, standing in the entryway with his fists on his hips, Soos beaming behind him. "I've got some great news!"

Abuelita and Bill glanced up from one of Abuelita's soap operas; Mabel and Dipper craned their necks to see Stan from where they were having dinner at the kitchen table.

Stan announced, "It's finally time!"

Dipper and Mabel blinked. Bill said, "Great. I'll get the ritual daggers, you can set up the blood red candles. Dolores?"

Abuelita said, "I will put out the good sacrifice altar." Bill laughed in delight.

"Yeah, yuck it up, you two," Stan said. "We're going fishing tomorrow! I've got the bait, I found everyone's rods, Soos and I patched up the old boat, I even—" He paused at the sound of the vending machine opening. "Hey! Ford!"

Ford ducked in from the gift shop. "What?" 

Stan chucked a hat at him. "I made you a fishing buddy hat! See, it's got your name! That's pretty good!"

"Oh." Ford inspected the letters haphazardly stitched onto the hat. "Why?"

"Fishing tomorrow! Half the summer's gone by, and we haven't gone fishing once! The guys from the lodge probably think I'm too ashamed to show my face. But it rained this weekend, the weather's just cleared up, now's the perfect time for fishing!"

"Oh," Ford said again, trying to drag his thoughts from magical tapes to fishing. "If you'd let me know earlier, I'd have built another fish-summoning beacon like the one on our boat." (Bill glanced curiously at Ford at the mention of an invention he didn't already know about; then stubbornly refused to be interested and dragged his gaze back to the TV.)

"No beacons! This isn't fishing for survival, this is about the sport! Asserting our manhood! Just the skill, strength, and patience of three men—and some women and children—against the lake!" (Soos beamed at being included amongst the men.)

Ford considered that. He didn't assert his manhood very often; usually he just sort of let his manhood hang around minding its own business, like an old cat that wants to be in the same room as you without socializing. It sounded like an intriguingly novel experience. "Okay, great. What time?"

"I want everyone on the road tomorrow morning! By six thirty at the latest."

The kids groaned.

"C'mon, dudes," Soos said encouragingly. "It'll be fun! After about three hours, once you're awake enough to think."

"No griping, we've gotta be there early to get a prime fishing spot," Stan said. "Tomorrow's a lodge fishing day. We're going home with a haul so big they'll be embarrassed they kicked me out!"

Dipper asked, "You mean the lodge for the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel, right? Why'd they kick you out?"

Stan sighed, "Once the town found out about Ford, they realized I'd spent the last thirty years attending lodge meetings under his membership. Since I'd never undergone the—" He rolled his eyes and made finger quotes, "'sacred angler initiation rites,' they booted me. And they said I can't try to join again, just because of that one dumb little white lie! And my extensive criminal record."

Ford hurriedly crossed the living room to avoid blocking Abuelita's TV view. (Bill looked through him like he wasn't there.) "Stan got a lot more out of my membership than I did—once I'd finished my initiation I probably only ever attended three meetings. I tried to petition the Mackerels to let him rejoin."

"How'd they respond?" Mabel asked.

"They kicked me out too."

Bill scoffed. "Big deal! The Fishmasons and all their subordinate organizations are just a big boring social club that got you hotel discounts three hundred years ago. The mystique around them is more interesting than anything they actually do."

"Figuring that out is why I stopped attending after three meetings," Ford said. "I joined to learn about the dark secret underbelly of Western politics—not sit around eating charcuterie and fancy nuts while everyone talks about baseball and makes fun of me for not knowing what a fly ball is. It's a stupid term! Doesn't the ball always fly?"

"Really, they aren't even worth joining," said Bill Cipher, the only person to have ever been kicked out of seventeen separate Masonic lodges in seventeen separate bodies.

Reminded of the fancy nuts he was missing out on at this very second, Stan set his jaw in determination. "Yeah, well, they're a big boring social club that'll rue the day they kicked out Stan Pines! Out the door, six thirty, on the dot!"

"I don't have an alarm," Bill said. "Hey star girl, wake me at five."

Mabel shuddered at the thought of setting an alarm that early. "No way. You can borrow my radio."

"Hold on, I didn't say you're invited," Stan said. "We've already got a full boat! Me, my brother, the kids, and Soos and his girl. Nobody wants to sit on the lake with you for eight hours."

"I wanna sit on the lake with Bill!"

"Nobody but Mabel wants that."

"Relax! I don't want to sit on a boat with you underpainted clowns either," Bill said. "I just want to sit on the beach! I miss sunlight! Sunlight without being forced to hike through half the valley on no food or sleep."

(Ford decided that was his cue to make himself scarce. He scooted into the guest room.)

"Well," Stan said, "we're not staying thirty feet from the shore, we're not leaving anybody behind, and we don't trust you to stay put on the beach without your dumb magic bracelet—so how do you expect that to work."

"I'll just stay with Dolores."

Stan and Soos stared at Abuelita. Soos said, "Abuelita? Do you want to come?"

Abuelita considered it. "Sure. The weather is nice. I can catch up on my reading."

"Yes!" Bill hopped off the couch. "Then it's a plan!"

"Hey, hold on," Stan said as Bill breezed past him, "I didn't agree to—"

"Hey star girl!" Bill leaned into the kitchen. "Need your fashion services! I need a swimsuit before tomorrow."

Mabel gasped in delight. "What kind?"

"Whatever exposes the most skin without getting me arrested. I'm absorbing as much sunlight as possible."

"With sunscreen, right?" Soos said.

Bill turned and gave him a blank-faced stare.

Soos hopefully repeated, "With sunscreen?"

"Don't need it."

"You totally do, dude. Not many people talk about this? But having more melanin doesn't totally protect you from sun damage, it just slows it down," Soos said. "Trust me on this. When I was like eight, I went to this water park—

"Uh-huh, and three days later you were peeling off flakes of your own dead flesh," Bill said. "It's cute how you think you know more about humans from 23 years of passively being one than I do from 500,000 years of actively studying them."

"Oh."

"C'mon, star girl! No time to waste!" Bill grabbed Mabel's hand and tugged her off her chair.

"Wait, my sandwich—!" Mabel grabbed the rest of her dinner off her plate and shoved it in her mouth as Bill dragged her upstairs.

Abuelita shot him a dirty look as he passed, but turned back to her soap opera.

####

Just past five in the morning, Bill crept by the guest room door. He glanced through the wall as he passed; good, both of the Stans were in bed and sound asleep. Bill wouldn't have had a chance to get up to his mischief if Ford had decided to sleep downstairs.

He snuck behind the vending machine; paused to squint toward the future and confirm that when he looked at the stairs, he could only see himself using them anytime soon; then down to the elevator; and down, down to Ford's study.

Bill sighed in relief when the elevator slid open and he saw that Ford had left his study door ajar. He crept into the room, feet socked, hands gloved—Ford was the kind of paranoid to actually check for prints if he suspected anything, and Bill's triangular whorls were very distinctive—and looked through the objects piled on the shelves and furniture for any concealed sensors or cameras. The coast was clear.

He idly scanned the nearby shelves for any sign of his stolen time tape, didn't find it, but didn't expect to. That wasn't what he was here for.

He knelt in front of a half-disassembled filing cabinet, flipped through the files in the removed bottom drawer until he found several folders together about curses and hexes, and flipped through them until he found the one labeled "Curses & Hexes (w/ ingredients)". Good old Sixer, left everything exactly where Bill remembered it.

He rifled through the pages—"aha!"—until he found the paper he was looking for and pulled it out. Handwritten at the top of a ragged-edged piece of notebook paper were the words "Reverse Sunscreen". Bill read through the list of ingredients—"Oh, pepper juice, not pepper flakes, right."—then put the paper back.

He glanced back and forth between the past and present to ensure he put the files back exactly where he'd found them—again, considering Ford's paranoia, he might notice any difference.

And then he returned to the elevator and headed upstairs.

The whole time he was in the study, Bill didn't let himself glance at the back of the room where Ford's shrine to him used to be.

####

"Heya, pal," Bill said. "It's been a while! Where have you been hiding all summer?"

Gompers blinked up at Bill.

"I guess we both look different than we did the last time we met, huh? I think your makeover went better than mine, though! You didn't fall as far as I did." He didn't have as far to fall.

Gompers accepted the backhanded compliment with utter indifference.

"But hey, why talk about the past! Let's let bygones be bygones. Here." Bill knelt, pulled one of Ford's nutrition pills from the folds of his beach towel, and held it out. "A peace offering! A little snack for you."

Gompers eyed it warily.

"Come on, you've eaten worse things than this."

He delicately ate the pill out of Bill's hand.

"Thaaat's right. Tell me how you like that thing later."

Leaning on his car, Stan—the only other person who'd actually been ready to go at 6:30—looked over Bill's shirt and trout slippers, and asked warily, "You didn't forget that humans need to wear pants, right?"

Bill got to his feet, shoved his makeshift umbrella-cane under the same arm as his beach towel, and pulled up the hem of the puma shirt he'd stolen from the gift shop to reveal his bikini bottom. It was teal with little puffy gold triangles painted on. "Cover-up dress. Your arbitrary fashion rules are different for beaches."

Stan considered whether a t-shirt counted as a dress, decided he didn't know enough about dresses and he might as well give this one to Bill, and grunted. "Fine, you're legal."

"Am I free to go, officer?"

"Never compare me to a cop again."

"Stop acting like one!" Bill trotted off to his ride to wait for the other humans to assemble.

There wasn't room for all eight beachgoers in one vehicle; the Pines piled together in Stan's car, while the Ramirezes (including Melody—honorary future Ramirez—and Bill—magic braceleted to Abuelita) took Soos's truck. So that Abuelita didn't have to squeeze past the front seats into the back, Bill and Melody were assigned the back bench; when Bill greeted Melody and she only responded with a vague mumble and an averted gaze, he scooted closer to the middle of the bench, spread his knees to take up more space, and smugly pretended not to notice how Melody squeezed herself against the door.

By the time the Ramirez vehicle parked at the beach, the Pines family was already out of their car: Stan was glaring up the beach with his fists on his hips, the kids were unsuccessfully searching Mabel's supply bag for Dipper's sunscreen, and Ford was lingering back at the car, pretending to check the contents of their tackle box but actually trying to shake the sudden memory of weightlessness and water in his throat. As Bill passed, Ford muttered, "I'm surprised you wanted to get this close to the lake so soon. Considering." It had been less than a week since their joint near death experience.

"Why not? Nearly drowning was the most fun part of that hike." (Ford wondered whether that was a red flag, an underhanded comment about how unfun the rest of the hike had been, or just Bill being Bill; and, for his own peace of mind, decided it was probably the third thing.) "Looks like you got something fun out of the trip, too." Bill snapped the shoulder strap of Ford's waders.

Ford shoved Bill's hand away. "As long as I have them, I might as well use them."

When everyone caught up with Stan, he was scowling at four men, ages ranging from 50 to 80, wearing fishing vests and hats with the Holy Mackerel's distinctive stylized fish symbol. "Eugene," Stan muttered. "Eugene and his goons wanted to kick me out of the lodge for years. Just because I have a grating personality and am generally unpleasant to be around! And tried to get the lodge to pick a local affordable housing fund as our charity for fundraising one year!"

Ford gave Stan a surprised look. "You never mentioned you worked with an affordable housing charity."

"Yeah. The Compassionate Angel's Fund For Gravity Falls Tourism Business Owners Who Are Behind On Their Mortgage Payments."

Ford snorted. 

Bill said, "I think you should've gotten away with it just for being funny."

"Don't even look at them," Stan instructed the group. "These jerks aren't worth it." The collected group studiously avoided looking at the Mackerels, except Bill and Abuelita, who didn't care.

As they walked up the beach toward the pier and veered around the Mackerels, Stan suddenly stopped, turned straight toward them, and said loudly, "Why, Eugene! What a coincidence! I almost didn't notice you!"

A tall, elderly man with a fishing rod over one shoulder and a black wooden cane in his other hand glanced over at the Pines/Ramirez party. "Oh," he said, with a voice like he'd found a fly stuck in gum on his cane. "Hello, Stan-ley. We haven't seen you out on the lake this summer."

Stan laughed loudly, as if Eugene had told a hilarious joke. "Oh, that! I was just waiting for perfect fishing weather! I'm not about to waste my time out on the lake on a bad fishing day!" He gestured behind himself, "Besides, I had to wait until my whole family was free to come along."

(Soos elbowed Melody and whispered excitedly, "He called us his family!")

Stan clapped his hands proudly on Dipper and Mabel's shoulders—who looked like they hoped the sandy beach would swallow them whole—and said, "I don't see your family, Eugene, where are they?"

"Dead." With mournful dignity, Eugene said, "I outlived my wife and all three of my children. Remember? You ate potato chips during my daughter's funeral."

Stan opened his mouth, shut it, and said, "Was that the really boring one that went like an hour?"

Ford, who didn't always have the best social instincts but could tell when Stan had screwed up, started shooing the rest of the family away from the scene, elbowed Stan, and said, "Let's get to the boat. You wanted to get a prime fishing spot, right?"

Eugene looked at Ford. "Ah. You must be the real Stanford Pines?" he said. "So I'm assuming, anyway. Apparently it's hard to tell you two apart."

Stan scowled; but before he could retort, Bill pushed past him to butt into the conversation. "Is it ever! Listen, take it from someone who's made this mistake—you've got to count the fingers on these two, every time."

Eugene huffed sardonically. "So it seems." (Ford self-consciously hid his hands in his pockets and shot Bill a dark look as he shuffled off with the rest of the family.)

"Say, while I've got your attention—name's Goldie, by the way—I couldn't help but admire your cane!" He tapped the tip of his umbrella against Eugene's cane. "I'm in the market for an upgrade from this substitute I've been using! That's no blackwood, right? That looks like true ebony."

"Good eye," Eugene said, surprised. "Yes, genuine Gaboon ebony."

"Must've dropped a lot of gold on this thing," Bill said appreciatively. "You've gotta tell me where you got it."

"I'm afraid I don't remember off the top of my head..."

"That's fine! Look it up—" (he twisted around to speak over his shoulder as Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him away) "—I'm sure we'll meet again!"

About fifteen feet away, Stan growled, "What was that?"

"Networking. I've got plans for that guy," Bill said. "Hey, did you hear him? Gaboon ebony?" He laughed condescendingly. "Easiest way to make a guy look like a moron, start talking about 'true' ebonies. Didja know the word 'ebony' comes from Egyptian? And when they talked about 𓍁𓈖𓏭𓆱, they were talking about African blackwood. Wood so hard it sinks and you have to tool it like a metal! Gaboon ebony is a flimsy usurper!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"But you don't pretend you do, and that's what makes you better than that guy." Bill tugged Stan down by the shoulder. "Listen, Fisherman. I can't tell you where the fish are biting but I can tell you where they're swimming. It'll give you an advantage, but you'll need to do the rest."

Stan squinted mistrustfully at Bill. "What's the catch."

"The catch is you have to accept my help. Do you want it or not?"

"And why are you offering?"

"Because I think these lodge guys are a bunch of snobs. And they should've chosen your charity. It was funny."

That, plus Stan had been the most reluctant to let Bill live; Bill had to convince him he'd made the right choice.

Bill gave Stan directions to a bunch of fish he could see underwater by the Island Head Beast's right earhole; and then, his good deed for the day done, he headed off to claim a spot on the beach.

Ford had gone into Tate & Backle's to properly purchase the clothing they'd borrowed after the eclipse, and Soos was helping set Abuelita up with a low beach chair and a large umbrella. Bill smoothed out a patch of sand about ten feet from Abuelita so he could lay out his beach towel and dump his supplies for the day beside it. While Mabel and Melody got the boat ready, Dipper wandered around looking for sunscreen to borrow. He saw Bill's tube, snatched it without asking, and generously coated his arms, legs, and face. Bill fought back a grin and pretended not to notice.

He tossed aside his t-shirt and fish slippers, settled down on the towel in his bikini, carefully squeezed several horizontal lines of reverse sunscreen across the front of his abdomen and thighs, and drew a few vertical lines in between to break them up.

Ford trudged over from the bait shop to tell Bill, "I thought you'd like to know those ridiculous fish slippers were thirty dollars."

Bill laughed. "Whoa! Seems like a lot of money for some cheap novelty shoes! It's too bad you decided to trap me in a position where I'm too destitute and powerless to make my own purchases, isn't it?"

"All right, all right." Ford's gaze caught on the bruise-blue line discoloring the skin from Bill's left shoulder to his right hip��had he gotten injured during one of his hikes the past week? Or had that always been there? Ford didn't think he'd ever seen Bill's body shirtless, maybe it had always been here—but then he noticed Bill's lines of sunscreen and barked a laugh. "I suppose you're not planning to rub that in."

"Brilliant observation." Bill began smoothing down the lines with a finger, maintaining the pattern he'd drawn.

"You wanted to come out here to suntan? I'm sure you're already aware of the cancer risks from tanning."

"If I'm in this body long enough to get cancer, I'll welcome it." Bill lay down, laced his hands behind his head, and gave Ford an obnoxious smile. "Anyway, basal cell carcinomas are delicious. There's something kinda romantic about them, you know?"

Ford ruminated on that with thoughtful bafflement, shushed the voice in his head trying to point out that Bill was waving ever more red flags, and concluded that perhaps humans weren't meant to comprehend the romanticism of skin cancer. "Fine."

"What's everyone standing around for?" Stan asked, trudging up to Soos and Ford. "C'mon, we're burning daylight! Let's..." He trailed off, staring at Bill.

His bikini top consisted of two triangular red cups. Each cup had an enormous staring eye.

"See something ya like?" Bill asked dryly.

Stan quickly looked away. "Ugh. That's indecent."

"What is?"

"That—design!"

"What's indecent about eyeballs?"

"It looks like...!" He gestured vaguely but emphatically.

"What? What does it look like? Tell me what it looks like, Stanley."

"Never mind!" He turned away with a huff and muttered to Ford, "Can you believe him?"

"I honestly didn't notice anything until you pointed it out." Ford waved back at Bill dismissively as he followed Stan toward the boat. "Enjoy your sunburn."

"I will! I haven't had a good sunburn in centuries! That's one of the best features of earthling bodies!" Bill got comfortable and shut his eyes.

Soos finished getting Abuelita settled, headed toward the boat—but hesitated as he passed by Bill. Bill opened an eye a crack to glower up at him. "What?"

Soos mumbled, "You could've just told me you wanted to get sunburned. I mean—yesterday."

"But you didn't ask if I wanted a sunburn," Bill snapped. "You just assumed I didn't know how they work. And that's the point: you assumed I was stupid instead of considering that maybe you didn't know my plan."

"Oh. Uh... sorry." Soos rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you feel stupid."

Bill's irritation flared higher. He sat up. "I didn't say you made me feel stupid," he hissed, voice low, talking fast. "There's nothing that you could do to make me feel stupid. But that doesn't mean you aren't treating me like I'm stupid, does it?"

"Whoa—!" Soos raised his hands defensively. "Chill, dawg. I didn't mean—"

"What's the phrase, do ut des? 'Do unto others'? Your species's phrase. Don't treat me like I'm stupider than you and I won't have to return the favor—sound like a fair deal, Question Mark?" Bill stared up at him challengingly, brows raised.

"But th— I w— You..." Soos's protests that he'd been doing nothing but trying to do-unto-others Bill got jumbled all around under the force of Bill's spotlight glare. His shoulders slumped. "Sure," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Good." Bill lay back down. "Get out of my sun."

Soos trudged away; and Bill took a deep breath, tried to get in a meditative mindset where he could shut off his mind, and focused on the feeling of sunshine on his body.

He'd just about managed to drop into a proper trance when Abuelita called sweetly, "Bill? Would you grab a bottle of water for me?"

His face twitched toward a frown as he was dragged back to full consciousness. Hadn't Soos left them close enough for her? Some grandson. 

"Bill?"

He tried to think of an excuse to stay where he was; then growled in irritation and sat up. "Okay, okay." He couldn't afford to offend the chef with access to the poisons.

The bag with the water bottles was right behind Abuelita's elbow; but maybe her joints were stiff. Bill knelt to unzip the bag. "Another bodice ripper?" he asked, glancing at her book. 

"A powerful sorceress queen has been captured by her enemies. She just learned they are led by her former apprentice."

"I can sympathize with that." Bill dragged the bag up next to Abuelita's knee so he wouldn't need to grab another bottle for her later. "Who's the love interest—guileless guard? Heroic rescuer?"

"The apprentice."

"Sympathy's gone." Bill glanced toward the boat to see what the rest of the household was up to.

They'd already reached the spot Bill had indicated and started fishing. Soos was excitedly reeling in his line; the boat listed to one side as everyone crowded around him to see what he'd brought up. Stan dipped a net in the water to scoop up his catch.

It was a boot.

Everyone's faces fell in disappointment.

Except for Ford's, who gleefully snatched up the boot he'd kicked off during the eclipse when he fell in the lake. He dumped the water out of his boot, switched places with Soos, and began fishing the same spot.

Abuelita said, "My grandson has been very nice to you."

Bill looked at her warily.

"Hasn't he?" She had a polite smile and daggers in her eyes.

He had the oddest feeling that this was going somewhere dangerous. "Yeah yeah yeah, sure he has," Bill said. "Nothing but nice. I think I'll take a little stroll, stretch these legs! See ya!" He stood to escape.

He only got a step away before the enchanted bracelet pulled tight around his wrist. He turned around to stare in amazement.

Abuelita had wrapped the slack of the bracelet thread around her hand.

Bill had made a severe miscalculation.

"So," Abuelita said. "Why are you being mean to my grandson." It was a trap all along. She'd agreed to be handcuffed to him so she could corner him for an interrogation.

"Whaaat," Bill said. "Me? No way! I'd never!"

Abuelita stared at him patiently.

"I don't even talk to him," Bill said, trying to think of a conversational escape route.

She raised a brow.

Got it. "He's just too nice, you see! I don't know how to talk to a guy that nice," he lied. "Makes things awkward!" How could any grandmother complain about her grandson being called too nice? "Yeah—not Jesús's fault at all. I don't hold it against him."

"Ah," Abuelita said, "you aren't used to people being nice to you?"

Sure, they could go with that, try to get him some pity. "Yeah! You know how it is. King of Nightmares, scourge of the multiverse—I'm not a popular guy."

"But you have friends, don't you? The scary ones you brought with you to town last year? Are they not nice to you?"

Bill hesitated, trying to figure out his story now. "Sure—they're nice to me. They're my friends! They love me! They'd do anything I say!"

"Oh. So, you're only comfortable with people being nice to you when you can control them." Abuelita smiled sweetly.

Swift, efficient, and brutal. Bill gaped at her.

"I'm glad you have nothing against Soos," she said. "And that you won't be rude to him."

Bill snapped his mouth shut. "Of course not." He gave Abuelita a tight smile. Played like a fiddle. Even though he'd been lying, she still managed to make him look like a loser. How embarrassing. "If you don't mind, I've got a sunburn to get back to."

"I'm not stopping you." She let the extra thread on the bracelet cuffs unwind from her hand and drop to the sand.

Bill trudged back to his towel, snapping as he went, "I hope this is one of those books you hate where the couple only gets hitched because they've got a baby coming."

"The sorceress has magical birth control."

"Course she does."

Bill flopped onto his towel again and stared at the sky. Ouch.

####

(I've been promising Agent Powers AND a beach episode for ages, and we finally get to them both at the same time. Let me know what y'all think so for!)

[dreamsteddie]

Steve H.

Part One, Part Two

I think it would be incredibly funny to write a No-Upsidedown Au where Steve and Dustin still become unofficial brothers. Like, the kids are still getting into a ton of dangerous mischief and one way or another Dustin adopts Steve as his older brother figure and in short order Claudia takes him in as a second son.

Like maybe Steve gets his first concussion actually helping Dustin find his missing cat after Steve has been in his mentorship/brother role for a few months. How I don't know, I like to imagine it playing out like the book version of Dandelion and Geralt's meeting in The Witcher where Dustin is being chased by some bullies and just latches on to the first strong man he sees to hide behind and then BAM, bonded for life.

Anyway, Steve has been around for a little while and Claudia has met him a few times (she's not just going to let a strange older boy she's never met hang around her middle school-aged son without meeting him first) but they don't know each other too well and Steve seems very...plastic for lack of a better word when she's around. Like he doesn't want to upset her so he's always got a perfect smile and polite words ready to offer her, but he's a nice kid and way more goofy and authentic when he's hanging out with Dustin and she peeks her head into the living room.

So when he gets hurt while helping, and subsequently protecting Dustin and a couple of his friends she makes sure to stop by with cookies and a profound thank you. She asks where his parents are and who's going to make sure he wakes up every hour for the next 24 hours when he gets discharged and he says he was planning to call a cab and set some alarms because his parents aren't in town and there's no one else at the house. So Claudia pretty much just tells him he's coming home with them for the rest of the week, which turns into a full week when his parents still aren't home, and by the time he's actually ready to leave they've all grown accustomed to this new family unit.

Steve does go home at first, but he makes a lot more excuses to come over and Claudia and Dustin work overtime coming up with lame excuses as to why he should just spend the night.

"Oh Steve, it's already midnight and you're taking Dusty to school tomorrow morning anyway, why don't you just take the spare bed."

"Steve! Steve! We have to watch the next one! You said we could watch the whole series so we're not stopping until we pass out on this couch!"

"Oh, honey the snow is really coming down out there. I know you have snow tires but you really shouldn't risk it. You stay here tonight."

And Steve doesn't want to leave, not at all. He's never felt more at home than he does sitting with the Hendersons after dinner watching sitcoms or playing board games, but sometimes he doesn't have a good excuse or his parents are planning to come home for a couple of weeks so he leaves and hates every moment spent in his own house.

Until one day when he's staying the night at his parent's house while they're home for a long weekend and they have an absolute blowout of a fight. He doesn't even know why it started, just knows that everyone was already in a foul mood and none of them are the type to back down from a fight and the result is hours of screaming hurtful things at each other and his mom throwing a few slaps his way that hurt his soul more than his face and ends with his dad going upstairs and smashing his walkman and his favorite cassettes with the kitchen kettle. At which point silence descends on the Harrington house and Steve turns around and walks out the door.

It's a 20 minute walk to the Henderson home and by the time he gets there, he's numb in the heart and the hands. Dustin is already in bed and Claudia pulls him inside to warm him up and talk it out, at which point Steve curls up into her arms and cries and rages.

After that night Steve doesn't go home aside from the single trip he made to fill a bag, grab his car, and tell his parents he won't be coming back. They put up a bit of a fight but ultimately let him go with the promise that no legal action will be taken, meaning that they'll sign whatever documents he needs for school or the doctor or whatever if he faxes them to the office but he won't try for emancipation and bring all that legal drama to the forefront. Steve knows that any lawyer he could get for the case would be trounced by whoever his parents brought in, so he agrees.

And from that day on he lives with the Hendersons and becomes Claudia's second son and continues being Dustin's older brother.

(We didn't actually get to the funny part but I was on a role so if you're interested I'll be posting part two soon!)

[k2ntoss]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

tw ⭒ swearing, angst, couple argument, mean jason todd (he's kind of a jerk with his words but uhhhh, he's cute), jason todd x fem!reader and okayyyyyy that's everything i think and some fluff sandwiched with more angst at the end bc i can't leave this just like that

a/n ⭒ song based fanfics are my weakness, i'm so sorry i just can't stop listening to certain songs just to write something related - the all-merican rejects, dirty little secret here okayyyy

i stopped counting words, sorry lmao

jason has been a nice boyfriend, so long he has never raised his voice or got angry when there was a little problem, he has taken you out on a few nice dates but there was something off.

you knew basically nothing about his surroundings, not his family nor his friends, probably seen once any of his close class mates and before you could go to say hi he was next to you, it was almost as if he didn't wanted you near them but you tried to push it away. for over three months.

you've had enough of pretty much all of that situation, dating jason for almost a year, going on one or two dates every two months and just getting texts from him, probably a short movie night if he had any time for you and it was making you feel so little and less for him, what was the problem with taking you with his family? or asking you to hang out with his friends? because he made some time to spend a few hours with them, drink something and have fun but there wasn't place for you with them, with him.

"jay... do you think we can go to the movies this weekend?" you ask him, sitting on one of the stools you had around your living room when he was spending some of his spare time with you "there is this new movie..." you trail off, trying to get his attention.

"don't think we can do that, doll, already made plans" he looks at your for a couple of seconds with a small frown and you're thinking that maybe you are the problem, maybe you're not enough for jason and he knows it, he's nice with you and the way he looks at you, how he brushes your hair when he walks next to you before sitting on your couch.

"you going out with your friends?" you ask softly, receiving a nod and a soft hum from him "maybe i could join you, i don't know your friends..." your voice is still low, calm but there's a clear intention on it and as soon as you present the idea jason scoffs.

there something in the way he does it that makes you feel like a spark ignited inside of your chest, between a bolt of anger and a sharp pain, what was that supposed to mean?

"you don't wanna know them, trust me, princess" jason trails off, almost lying on your couch as he looked at his phone "not your kind of people..." he whispers and it makes you near explode.

"what is that supposed to mean, jason?" there's an edge to your voice that makes him sit straight, he looks at you and places his hands on his lap "it means exactly what i said, my friends are not your kind of people, why?" he shrugs, as if it wasn't that much of a big deal.

"and what is my kind of people exactly? not so interesting? not as good as you?" you start, the light in your eyes replaced by something else and jason noticed it "is your family also like that? not the kind of people i am around?"

"exactly that" he says, simply and blunt, he looks at you unamused as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back "not your kind of people either, now stop the tantrum, okay?" and for a second you are speechless because he has never said something like that.

"why can't i meet your family? it's been almost a year, do they at least know you are dating someone?" you ask, not letting go of it just like that makes him sigh in frustration.

"why would they have to know? i don't see your point, y/n." and as soon as the pet names stop you know that he's not happy talking about this "i haven't told anyone, okay? and i don't plan on doing it, i have my reasons."

"maybe they have to know because i'm your damn girlfriend" your town grows a bit louder, not longer sitting on the stool you walk until you're in front of jason "maybe they have to know because what the hell have you've been doing the days you spend here instead of with them?" the way jason looks at you isn't helping, his eyes are fixed on the ceiling and his lips are pressed on a fine line.

"i don't want to tell them, okay? i can't see a damn issue besides you wanting everyone to know i have a girlfriend and that's not a big deal" he trails off, his hand moving in a motion that made your mood go worse.

"it is a fucking big deal, jason!" when you snap at him he turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise bit it quickly changes to a expression of pure tiredness "we barely have a date every full moon, you text me whenever you remember i exist and your friends don't even know i'm your girlfriend" you number with your fingers, your voice shaky because your emotions taking over were too much.

"i do what i can, i don't have that much free days to waste my time here!" he snaps back and his words hit hard but that's just the start "i still can't get why you have to make a fuzz out of it, it's enough with both of us knowing we're dating"

"wasting your time, fine" you mutter before turning around, back facing him as you walk to your room and you can make the sound of his steps following you "it's so fucking funny because no one knows i'm your girlfriend so you get a lot of girls flirting with you and i have to deal with it but as soon as any of my friends gets too touchy with me at the campus you're calling me" and it's true, jason can't stand seeing other people so close to you and so freely because that's something he can't do and he does had his reasons.

"are you really gonna make a problem out of this?" he asks, it's like he isn't able to wrap his mind around of it, how much you wanted everyone to know that someone like him laid his eyes on you, that he liked you from all of the girls it was you "you're the only one that needs to know"

"but at least give me a goddamn reason for me to be a stupid secret, jason" you are almost crying, voice struggled and eyes burning from how much you wish things were at least a little different "is it so bad it's me who you're dating? am i not enough?" your words hurt, not just you but also him because he would love to show you off but his life won't allow it.

he won't risk you to get too deep into his shit, it's enough you deal with his presence and his absence too.

"that's not a game you would like to play, you'll find out shit you don't wanna know" he warns you, jason's voice is now stern and his eyes are no longer soft, he stands towering over you as he seems to be holding back his tongue "i can't tell anyone and you don't even try because that would be so dumb of you" he sounds absolutely mad and he is, but with himself.

jason hates this, he knows that maybe he's breaking your heart and he despises his whole being for that. he loves you and that's why he can't drag you into his world, all the pain and worry it would bring to you would be a burden you don't deserve when you're the only one who brings something nice into his days.

"you're still not giving me one single reason, i don't even know if you're ashamed or what the hell is going on" your voice breaks and he sees the tears pooling on your lashes, he wants to hold you and tell you how much he loves you but maybe he has to break you a little to keep you safe.

"i don't fucking want them to know about you, that's all! is it so hard to wrap your head around it? do i need to spell it out for you like a fucking child?" he's yelling in a way that draws your tears away, wet trails on your cheeks "it's stupid, you know? i'm wasting my fucking time here when i could be doing something else"

you see him passing his hands through his hair, desperate and frustrated "i thought this would be different but you had to decide to get on my nerves and be a pain in the ass, is this what you expect me to take with my family? a brat like you that can't take a no for an answer?"

he is cursing his name in his head, he sees how your heart shatters into pieces and the way your hands fall flat on your sides, tears falling silently through your cheeks.

"do i need to get you a damn banner to announce it? take you out so you can scream it out loud? you've got to be joking" he scoffs, jason outs a show for you. a show of breaking your heart, making you feel so stupid for expecting to be important enough for him.

"get out" your words tremble and he stops to look at you, there's a brief glimpse of regret on his eyes but it vanishes in a second. "i don't want you here, get out of my place" you point every word, crying but still angry at him. the sharp pain in your chest is making it hard to breath and it shows on the gasps you let out as he walks out of the room.

"i hope that later tonight you regret everything you've said" he hears you, his chest aching because he wants so bad to erase each word he said.

"i regret a lot of things, y/n" he says harshly, looking at you intently before he leaves. just like that you're left alone in your apartment, crying and letting yourself fall onto the floor.

night falls like that, rain pouring heavily and it muffles your sobs while you lie on your couch, hugging a pillow and hiding your face because you've been crying without rest since jason left. the headache you feel is killing you but there's no will to get up to take a pill.

on the other hand, jason drives around the city. he has been around your block a few times wondering if he should go back and hold you but he shrugs and leaves, you said you didn't wanted him there so it would have done things worse. jason also looks at his phone, thinking about calling or texting you but he decides is better if he doesn't.

until he stops thinking or at least he thinks he did, he stands outside your door with his copy of the keys on his hand and it's too late when he snaps back into reality because he's already on the doorway. it's almost midnight and the lights are all off, not even the tv is on but he listens clearly to your soft sobs and the sounds of you shifting on your place.

"i told you i didn't wanted you here" you croack, voice hoarse and raspy from how much you've been crying your lungs out. his heart breaks when he turns on the lights and sees your red eyes, puffy and still teary.

"i know... but i couldn't leave you like that" there was the jason todd you knew, his voice was soft and there was a tenderness to his eyes that always made you sigh "i said a lot of shit today and you have no idea how much i hate myself for it" he starts before walking towards you.

he shakes his head when you try to sit on the couch, making you stay still as he lets his body fall sit on the floor and reaches a hand to brush a few strands of messy hair out of your face, he sighs when you pull away refusing his touch.

"i don't wanna know, jason" he wants to kiss your forehead when you snuggle yourself a little more against the pillow but he knows it's not the right moment for it. not when he was losing you.

"but i need to tell you... there are a lot of things about me that you don't know and you are different from my family and friends, baby" his hand finds a way to ylur cheek, cupping it gently as he wipes away a few tears "and that's not bad because you're better than any of them, you're better than me anf right now i'm so damn sure i don't really deserve someone like you" his words are full of meaning, that you can feel it because jason has clear eyes for you, green pretty eyes that had always allowed you to stare into his soul to let you understand his feelings.

"i could never be ashamed to show you off but you have to understand i'm not a good person and letting anyone know how much you mean to me... i can't risk losing the only good thing i have" and it makes you feel weird, part of your brain tells you to kick him out because his words are not real.

but your heart is beating fast, the way jason looks at you and his voice feeling like a warm embrace that keeps you safe from the hard world, there's no pain when he's next to you "i don't know what you're talking about, jason, this just doesn't feel right"

"i've let you into my life, everything i am is an open book for you because i trust you" trying to calm down your words sound a bit more steady, not so broken when you look up at jason "because i love you and i want to share with you everything that i am, is it that i'm asking for too much?"

"that's not– you're not asking for too much, princess... you deserve the world laid at your feet but it's hard for me to let you into a world that you probably won't like" he says, looking away from you as if he felt shame about who he was "what if i let you in and you can't love who i really am?" his eyes bore into yours again, you can see the pain and fear on them.

jason can't stand thinking about losing another loved one because of his life.

[fanttasttica]

One plus one makes three

Rhysand x reader

After your one night stand with the High lord, you hadn't expected to see him ever again, but fate had other plans. You are pregnant, carrying the High lord's first child and you need to tell him. How is he going to react? And what will that mean for you?

Warnings: nothing (I think.. If you find anything, please let me know :D )

Words: 4129

Authors note: Thanks for participanting inthe voting! Since this idea got the most votes, i wrote it first. My next story will be on theme "enemies to lovers" :D

You weren't that type of a girl who got drunk every weekend and had a sex with males whose names you haven't bothered to learn. No.. So why was the universe punishing you for this? It was one night, only one. You were celebrating your birthday with some friends at Rita's, when you spotted the most beautiful male that ever existed. He was tall, seemed strong and there was this dark aura around him. He was undoubtedly powerful, but instead of fearing him, something dragged you to him. After some time you were watching each other from afar, he came up to you and asked you to dance. It was during your time on the dancing floor, when you found out it was no other than High lord or the Night cour, your High lord. It was the first time you saw him, the first time you talked to him and you thought it would also be probably the last. Maybe you ended up in his bed that night, but it was supposed to be only a one night stand, but fate decided otherwise. 

You weren't feeling well for a couple of days. Your friends were pushing you to see a healer and today you finally gave in. You visited your healer on the other side of the town, thinking she will brush it off, tell you to rest for another couple of days and eat chicken broth, you hated, but no. This wasn't only some illness you could get rid of after a few days. This would last for at least a couple of months and then the real fun would begin. You were pregnant. Carrying an heir to the Night court in your womb. Your stomach was still flat and if it weren't for your morning sickness and tiredness, you wouldn't have noticed you were pregnant yet. After finding that out, you thanked and said goodbye to your healer, leaving in a hurry. As if running from her would also mean that you would run from your situation. Unfortunately for you, that didn't happen. Symptoms still bothered you in the following days, reminding you about how screwed you were. 

“What are you going to do?” Your friends were curious, of course. And honestly you were too. “I have no idea. I am.. I only saw him once.” You answered her while running your hand through your hair. “Yeah, you saw him once. You slept with him once and you ended up pregnant.. I can't believe your luck.” It was hard to say if she was speaking ironically or not, because you wouldn't call yourself lucky. This wasn't some blessing. You weren't against children, you actually liked them and hoped one day you will have one, this was simply quite early for you and certainly with the wrong man. He maybe was a High lord, but you were an ordinary fae. He probably already forgot about your existence. “I don't even know how to contact him. Should I go back to Rita's in the hope I will meet him there? Should I send him a letter and tell him about this? And what should I write in it? Do I really have to tell him?” Not telling him anything and running to another court was an idea you were also toying with. “You can not possibly mean that! He deserves to know. And besides that, lies or secrets are always exposed in the end. He is the most powerful High lord of all times.. Do you really think you can keep this as a secret your whole life? Your kids' whole life?” You sighed in defeat and shook your head. “No, that's stupid.. I.. I just need another few days to collect my thoughts and think about ways to contact and tell him.” 

Few days passed by and you still weren't sure what to do. Why does it have to be so complicated? If he weren't the High lord, you would already have told him. It would make everything so much easier for both of you. It was pointless to cry over a spilled milk, but you couldn't help yourself, blaming it on your hormones. One day, you had enough of it. Enough of hiding in your room, crying and cursing on him and yourself. You were determined to find him, tell him about this and return home, so you could finally have some good rest without constantly thinking about this, because currently you were losing your head. You decided to try to find Rhysand again at Rita's. It seemed better to ask him for a minute there than marching to his house and demanding he would see you. You friends were supportive, not leaving you to be all alone. There always was at least one of them by your side, although you weren't finding it necessary, it was a nice gesture you appreciated. The first night you spent here looking for you, you hadn't had any luck, likewise the second or third night. But after sitting on the bar stool for the fourth night in a row, you finally saw him. He was talking to his friends, with a smile on his handsome face, unaware that his life was about to change drastically. 

Your heart started beating faster than ever before. In normal situations, you were a calm person, but obviously not today. “You should hurry and go speak to him, before other girls start to throw themself on him.” You swallowed hard.“Yeah.. I am going right now.” You tried to put on a neutral face and started walking towards him, even though everything in you screamed to run away. Suddenly, you were standing right before him and his friends, who were measuring you with interest in their eyes. You simply nodded at them in greeting and looked at the High lord. “You probably don't remember me, but we met here a while ago.. And I need to speak with you. It's urgent. ” At first you were worried he was going to send you away. He raised one eyebrow, but nodded and put away his drink, following you outside. Cold air hit you immediately, so you hugged yourself, before turning to face him. “I remember you, don't worry.” You weren't expecting that. “Yeah.. that's good.” It made a few things easier for you. Now you know there isn't a need to explain to him when you met and what you did together that night. “So? What did you need to tell me?” He was curious, of course. Maybe expecting you to try to seduce him, as many girls certainly did in the past, but there was nothing that could prepare him for this. “I am pregnant and it's yours.” 

There weren't many people who managed to surprise the High lord of the Night court. And even the least people managed to surprise him so much that he couldn't think of a reaction for the first few seconds. He was stunned, looking at you as if you were from another unknown world, so you took word once again. “To be honest.. I expected a worse reaction..” You sighed and looked at the ground. “I don't want anything from you. I want and will keep the baby, but if you don't want to, you don't have to be involved in the baby's life. I have people who will help me and also have enough money to take care of it. So.. It's up to you.” And with that, you left him standing outside alone, returning to your friends.

“How did it go? Did he take it well?” Immediately after your return, you were flooded with questions. You shrugged and drank water from your glass. “He was clearly surprised. I told him I don't expect anything from him and assured him it's his choice, if he wants to be involved or not and then left.” They laughed. “You told him this and just left him standing there alone? Oh my Cauldron, I would pay to see his face.” Maybe you would also laugh at this, only if it weren't you who was in this situation. You put one of your hands on your stomach. It was weird and also.. magical, knowing that right now, you are creating a new life. “He returned to his friends and is talking with them.” Your friend whispered to your ears. You could feel several pairs of eyes watching you. Shaking your head, you smiled at them. “Let's talk about something else for a while and try to enjoy this night.” You desperately needed some distraction and opportunity to think about anything else. In the end, the reason why you were here today was done and you deserved some break from this too. 

The next day, you were woken up by the Sun. After you forgot to close the curtains last night, there was nothing that could stop morning rays from tickling your eyes. Like any other day before, you were thinking, if you weren't dreaming this whole time, but morning sickness was clear evidence that in fact you were not. After brushing your teeths and hair, you dressed up, put on black leggings and your favorite jumper, you were ready for the day. For the last couple of days, you took time off from your job. It wasn't that hard,since you were running a small bakery with your friends and they almost forced you to stay at home. But today, you were determined to return. You wanted to start living normally again. There isn't a chance that you will spend a whole pregnancy locked in your room. You will take things slowly, so there is no chance for something to happen and it will all be good. 

Your day has been going just fine. After coming to work, you could finally be able to feel like a few weeks ago, like nothing was going on. Well, that was until the bell rang, announcing the arrival of another customer you should greet. After you look up, you find no one other than the High lord himself. “Shouldn't you be resting?” You raised your eyebrow. “Hello to you too.. I assure you I am rested well enough.” He came closer, the only thing between you was a counter, behind which you stood. “You don't need to work. I will take care of both of you.” You shook your head. “There is no need for that. I can work, what's more important, I want to work. I love my job.” Something in his face told you, he took this as a challenge. “You are pregnant with my child. I think I should have a say in this matter.” This whole conversation was uncomfortable for both of you. You both were very determined to do it in your way. And the fact that you were strangers had not been helping at all. You didn't know how to treat each other. “Then I guess we need to find some compromise.”

You weren't exactly thrilled with how some things turned out in the end, but on the other hand, it could be worse. After a long talk with Rhysand, how he told you to call him, you end up agreeing to stop working when you are halfway through your pregnancy, but that is not all. During those few weeks you will still be working, there will always be someone with you, during your shift. Practically, members of Rhys's Inner circle were supposed to babysit you. You knew it would be very unusual for you, but you were hoping that in a couple of days you will be able to ignore them or befriend them. You also agreed on moving in with Rhysand and his Inner circle, three weeks before the baby was supposed to be born and staying for at least a couple of months. “Honestly, I am surprised that you want to be so involved..” You mumbled. You two were talking almost your whole shift, which was coming to the end right now. “It's my baby, of course I want to be involved. We have to take care of her or him. Which brings me to my last point today.” He took your silence as a cue to continue. “We should get married.” You weren't sure what you were expecting, but this was certainly not it. Almost dropping a tray with two last gingerbreads, you turned to face him. His face was serious, there was no sign that he was just kidding, but you laughed lightly even so. “Good one. I am not marrying only because I am pregnant.” But he didn't let you brush that off so easily. “Why? It would be better. You would live in luxury for the rest of your life and I would have an heir.” Without this union, this baby would only be a bastard in the others eyes, you were aware of that, but you couldn't do this. “I already told you, I am comfortable with the life I am living. I don't need jewelry or fancy dresses. I was always determined to marry for love or not at all. And I am not changing my mind.” 

The weeks passed one by another. As Rhys promised, from the very next day, his friends started accompanying you, during your work. Sometimes, it was Morrigan you befriended quite quickly. It was because of her friendly personality. She was treating you like a friend from the start, promising you to always help you with the baby. Almost every time she came, she was bringing something for you or the baby. You It almost didn't make sense for you to go shopping for things for the baby since she was the one doing it. Then there were Cassian and Azriel. They also were friendly, but it took a little longer to get used to them, but after you started feeding them sweets from your shop, they warmed up to you and you were chatting like an old friend. The last person who you saw maybe two times was Amren. She wasn't rude, but when she was there, she was doing her own work and since you didn't want to disturb her, you hadn't talked so much. As for Rhys, he was visiting you every other day before and after your shift. The communication between you two was better and sometimes, you caught yourself staring at him, when he was talking to his friends and since that was exactly what got you into this situation in the first place, you weren't happy with yourself. 

“This is your last day, isn't it?” Morrigan was sitting on a table, smiling at you as you were counting the money before closing the register. “Yeah.. I still can't believe it.” You were half through your pregnancy and your bump was already showing a little. Fortunately, the morning sickness and tiredness have passed you by now. You were feeling great. “I don't know what I am going to do with my free time.” She shrugged. “You can read.. Paint.. Shop for the baby..” You chuckled at the last thing. “Thanks to you, the baby has more than enough clothes. And I pursue all my hobbies even when I am working.. Rhys is thinking that I will only lay in bed, eat and sleep, but that's simply not possible. I would lose my head after one week.” She smiled at you sympathetically. “My cousin behaves sometimes like a mother hen. I believe you, when you say it's annoying.. But you have to endure it only for another couple of weeks..” That wasn't helping. “I am not like a mother hen. I don't know what you two are talking about.”  You only noticed Rhysand, who was leaning against the door frame, now. “Yeah, you are worse.” You mumbled, after recovering from the shock he gave you. “You are hurting my feelings, dear Y/N.” You pursed your lips at him. “How are you going to recover from this?” His laughter filled the room and forced you to chuckle a little bit too. “When will you two finally get together? You are perfect for each other.” Neither of you answered her. 

As you expected, you were bored only after a week of not working. Sure, you had your friends and also new friends from Inner circle, but it wasn't enough. They also had work and their lives. So you decided to go bother the man who was responsible for your boredom, Rhysand. You already visited his home, he gave you permission to come and go as you pleased, so you decided to pay him a visit today with some sweet desserts from the bakery for him and a jar of pickles for you. The other symptoms of pregnancy passed, but this one, love for pickles, remained. You knocked twice on the mahagon door that led to his office and waited for his response, before opening them and walking in. “I am bored and it's your fault.” Rhys leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “How is that my fault?” He obviously wasn't understanding your logic. Maybe it was because he was a male or maybe because his brain was not affected by hormones. “You didn't want me to work anymore, so I don't have anything to do and in addition to that, I am already sick of some things that I normally like! It's frustrating.” You sat on the chair across from him. “I need to finish these papers, but once I am done, I actually know what we could do together.. Until then, you are welcome to stay.” You thought about it for a while and nodded. “Okay, I will wait. And I would almost forget. This is for you. Morrigan told me you like this.” You moved the dessert tray across the table in front of him. He looked surprised and also very happy. “Thank you, it's nice of you, but you didn't have to do that.” You shrugged, picked up one pickle and ate it before replying to him. “I wanted you. Sweet is good for the nerves. And you'll need a lot of nerve to put up with my moods.”

There was a comfortable silence. Rhys was working, you were eating pickles and watching him. During this time, you found out some other new things about him. For example, every time he tried to concentrate intensely, he furrowed his brow, when he was thinking about something, he tapped his pen on the table.. “I didn't know I was so interesting to you.” You blinked a few times, before you realized he probably noticed that you were staring directly at him for the past few minutes. “I was just thinking how can I protect our child from inheriting your crooked nose.” He chuckled and looked at you, still smiling. “Your love for me is touching.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Are you almost done? I am running out of pickles.” He put the papers aside and nodded. “Lucky for you, yes. We can go now.”

You had to admit that his house was beautiful. It was so spacious, but cozy at the same time. It felt like home. During the tour Rhys gave you, you were imagining your life here. Imagining a little girl running around the corridors and Rhysand following her, while they are both laughing.. “There are only two other rooms I want to show you.” You offered him a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.” After climbing a few stairs, you reached the next floor of the house Rhys walked to the end of the corridor. “This is my room and right next to it..” He opened the door and let you walk in first. You gasped at the sight before you. It was a nursery. The walls were white and decorated with painted gold stars. Everything was ready. Closets full of baby clothes and other necessary things. Crib was in the middle of the room, filled with some stuffed animals and more blankets than needed. Tears welled up in your eyes. “It's so beautiful! Did you do it by yourself?” You asked, turning to Rhysand who was watching you with a happy expression. “Most of the things, although Cassian and Azriel had to help me to build the crib.. I am the most powerful High lord, but that thing is terrible.” You laughed at the idea of ​​the three strongest Illyrian warriors having trouble assembling a crib. “And Morrigan got the clothes.” You nodded, recognizing some pieces. “Thank you, really.” He walked towards you and carefully took your hand to his. “You don't have to thank me. I was happy to do it. After all, I promised you that I would spoil both you and the child.” The fact that your child was going to be spoiled was certain. And probably no amount of strictness couldn't prevent that. “As for spoiling you.. I also have room ready for you.”

It wasn't until Rhys pointed them out that you noticed a door not far from the crib. “This door leads to your room. And the door opposite.. to mine, so I can come and help you with the baby during the night or you can easily come to my room, if you would need it at any time.” It was practical, better than having to run to the hall and knock on his door there. “Are you ready to see it?” With this, he caught your attention once again. “Of course.” 

You fell in love with your room the first second you walked in. Rhys made sure the walls were painted in your favorite color. There was a table, not so far from the window. On the other side is a bookcase with a rocking chair next to it. The walk-in closet was the same size as your bathroom, which was as luxurious as everything else. “Okay.. Now I am really looking forward to moving in here.” You joked and lay on your big bed. Blanket was so soft you wanted nothing else than getting tangled up in it and never getting out. Rhys sat on your bed, watching you with a grin. “And I thought you said you didn't need a life of luxury..” He said playfully. As a response, you slapped him gently on his hand. “I don't need it. But I have to admit, it's nice.” You sat up and rested your head on his shoulder. He hugged you, with one of his hands, around your waist and placed his hand on your stomach, stroking it gently. “Only the best for you.”

Many weeks passed and now.. As you predicted, you were holding a baby girl in your arms. Your and Rhysand's baby girl. Your birth was quite easy, thankfully. You were happy. Rhys was all over the moon, not leaving you alone for one minute. The others were not better, they pushed each other away, only to get a better view of her, before Madja told them to leave, since you need to rest. So now, it was only you, Rhys and your little star. “I know I already said it.. But thank you.” You looked in his eyes and smiled. “I thank you. Afterall, this takes two.” Although most of the job was done by you, Rhys was amazing to you this whole time. Treating you like a queen. “I am really.. glad for this. Finding out I was going to be a father was shocking, I will not lie, but.. I am just really happy.” Hearing this made your heart jump with joy. “Yeah.. I am too. I am glad I met you. And I have to admit.. I grew fond of you.” He chuckled deeply and kissed the top of your head. “Does that mean you will marry me then? And I assure you.. I am not asking out of some obligation, because we have a child together.” Rhys was ready to give you time to think, but you didn't need it. It wasn't love at first sight with him. You were falling in love with him for a while, but now you were sure that he was your happy ending. Well.. him and your daughter. That's why there wasn't a trace of hesitation when you answered him, “I will.”

[cumikering]

F1 John Price x reader 5

3.1k | angst Shepherd and his PR obsession (part 1) (part 6)

John’s tired body melted in your embrace as he sighed at the door of your flat. The high still thrummed in his veins from his victory the previous evening. With Kyle in second, McLaren sealed a stunning 1-2 finish at Bahrain GP.

He closed the door behind him and took his mask off. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he said between kisses.

You smiled against his lips, fingers curling over his biceps. “Guess what I made you for dinner?” You helped him take his jacket off.

How could he not want to come home to this every single day? To your hugs and kisses and laughter that allowed the aching exhaustion in his bones to dissipate into thin air.

You made it so hard to leave each time, and once more, telling you of his next trip chipped away at his heart again.

“So it’s the third consecutive weekend you’re away?” You turned to him on the couch. “Are you supposed to be away for work this often?”

The way your frown replaced your brilliant smile chased away the remaining serotonin from him. “I’m usually away two to three times a month. But they’re not long trips,” he quickly added. “Just 4 days, 5 tops.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You never said anything about that, John.”

“Yeah-“ He dropped his gaze. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.”

It was the truth. Off-season was an absolute paradise with you. With no travelling involved, he was a normal bloke with a normal day job and a normal relationship. The reality of his real work was a distant thought until it towered right in his face.

“But it doesn’t have to change anything, right?” He tried to not let his panic seep into his voice when you avoided his eyes, your shoulders sagging.

“I don’t know, John,” you mumbled. “The past months you were always in town and I didn’t expect this.”

“I won’t always be away. After Jeddah, I’d have over a week here. So let’s-“ His heart was beating out of his chest as he grasped your chin, tilting your face towards his. “Let’s see how it goes? It’s not that bad, I promise.”

He didn’t want to see how it went. He wanted to know this would all be just fine and he’d always be able to come home to you like this. But John Price was a selfish bastard whose voice still shook despite his willpower of making it work. Was he trying to convince you or himself?

At last, you met his eyes and a small smile flickered on your lips. “Okay.”

Relief washed over him and he pulled you to his chest. “Would you let me make it up to you?” He kissed your forehead. “I’ve arranged a dinner for us on Wednesday. Dress up, yeah?”

John Price could almost smell the death of John mother fucking Sloane – the devil he fashioned who had taken shape much bigger for him to contain. He could taste the victory as he drove to your shop that evening. He’d been looking forward to the date, a nice, quiet dinner with you overlooking the London skyline. He sported a creaseless button down, even got his hair trimmed and dress shoes polished for the occasion.

He’d made up his mind – he was going to tell you in the privacy of your flat. Despite the chance that you’d be out of his life by the end of the night, he’d had enough. It was your prerogative if you didn’t want him and the obstacles it entailed, and he couldn’t keep breaking your heart.

So when Kate’s name flashed across the infotainment screen of his GTI, he frowned.

“John, Shepherd’s meeting a potential investor for dinner. He wants you to join them.”

“Me? What for?”

“You know what for. He said you and Kyle need to show.”

“Shepherd and his PR bollocks,” he muttered.

“I just texted you the address. You better leave now.”

“Tonight!? What the- I’ve got plans already, and I’m not cancelling, not again.”

“If you want to get on Shepherd’s bad side, I guess. Mr. Graves won’t be here anymore when we come back from the race.”

“Kate, come on. Besides, look at what time it is.”

”Sorry, you know how it goes, John.” She paused. “I mean, he said you could bring anyone. So maybe if you’d been honest, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

The comment was a slap to his face. It was a low blow, and he hated that she was right. He’d slipped too deep into his persona and it was all the more why coming clean to you that night was imperative.

“Make sure you drive your McLaren.”

At the red light, when he’d hung up, he screamed the loudest fuck the side of town had ever heard. He wanted to get on his knees and cry, but he could only laugh helplessly at his misfortune.

John didn’t mean to fling the door of your shop open, but the patrons turned to him at the commotion nonetheless, making him grimace. His eyes went right to you behind the counter, all dolled up for the night. The smile faded when you saw his frown.

He rushed to you. “Love, I’m so sorry. I-“ He sighed, trying to keep his voice down. “Something just came up. My boss wants me to attend dinner with some investor.”

You averted your gaze, your shoulders slumping.

“Fuck me, I feel terrible. I don’t know what time I’ll be done, but could I come over you after? I want to see you before I leave tomorrow.”

“That alright, John,” you said in a small voice, turning away from him. “Just go.”

“I’ll move the reservation to Monday.” He pulled you into a hug, but your arms hung by your side.

You could wait another weekend. You would, right?

He pulled his mask and leaned in. “I’ll miss you, sweetheart. See you soon, okay?”

John didn’t realise it then, but your lips tasted different that evening.

There John Price was in the sweltering heat of Jeddah for the second race of the season.

Days passed in a blur. Even that he tried, he wasn’t all there in the briefs or interviews answering questions that didn’t need to be asked. He’d left his mind 3,000 miles behind, and a dark cloud loomed over him, like a monster was breathing down his neck making his skin crawl.

You’d been quiet. You avoided his calls and barely texted him back since Wednesday before finally saying you didn’t want to talk. As much as he didn’t want it to affect him, the silence pierced like nails on chalkboard. He was willing to give you all the space you needed, but guilt weighted crushed his shoulders. Had he run out of time?

John was fuming, of course he was. He wanted to bail, fly back to London and beg for your forgiveness. Instead, all he could do was scream his lungs out into his pillow, because he couldn’t be angry at you.

You had the right to be upset, and more. He’d embarrassed you that evening. Evie, one of your girls, had wrapped her arm around you, guiding you back to your office. She might be years younger, but he didn’t miss the nasty look she shot over her shoulder before he bolted out the door with his heart dragging on the floor.

But it wasn’t only that. It wasn’t the first time he’d failed you. The past weeks he’d lost count of how many times he was late or had to move around plans with you.

It was getting harder to keep the fire burning in him. He’d jumped through these hoops, and it looked like it was all in vain. He just wanted to make everything as easy as possible for you, and be the understanding and patient man you deserved, but he could barely hold himself together with everything spiralling out of control.

He had painted himself into a corner. How could he salvage this? It was looking worse by the day.

Of course he wanted to be honest. He was dying to tell you, but coming clean at this exact point felt like giving up. Because if he did, how could you even imagine staying?

Was this something he couldn’t have with you after all? Perhaps he had signed away his rights to a normal life when he plunged into racing.

Sunday afternoon, hours before the race, you finally broke the silence.

I don’t want to keep doing this

There it was. A deceivingly simple sentence, but it was a blow in the gut. His time had run out.

His heart hammered as he dialled, but you didn’t pick up.

Could we please talk?

Let me know when you're back

He couldn’t argue with that. It was always better to talk in person, but his heart tossed and turned into itself. The clocked ticked away, but not nearly fast enough to Monday.

So John Price showcased his rage on the circuit – something he was infamous for. It was always a spectacle how he overtook his opponents in tight corners, zipping past them in straights. Fans cheered for the action, the relentless chase he demonstrated, like a ravenous predator ready to pounce and shred with no mercy.

But perhaps, had he been more present the past few days, he would have realised the understeering issue remained before it was too late.

He could yell and complain all he wanted on the radio, but he was the one who struggled to maintain his position as his car refused to do what he wanted it to. His blood boiled as yet another driver zoomed past him, pushing him further down to 5th place.

“Focus on finishing. It’s just 15 laps to go,” Ghost said. “Sorry, cap. There’s nothing else we can do for now.”

With his situation laid out, John should be more conservative – it was the right thing. But as he stared longer at the car in front of him, the fury still brewing, making a move to take back his previous position was as tantalising as ever.

But he should have listened to Simon, his seasoned and trusted engineer, because to avoid scrapping the wall after the next corner, his tyres locked up, causing a collision with the Mercedes driver who was just as hungry for a strong finish.

John’s aggressive style had always served him well, allowing him to execute impossible moves and thus securing astounding wins, but that day, his temper had severely skewed his judgement.

It was a miracle he finished 8th that evening, and he dreaded the onslaught he was going to receive for the rookie mistake, of letting desperation consume him. Kyle and Simon tried to cheer him up the first chance they got, but he excused himself to his room with disinterest. Kate gave him a sympathetic pat on his back. He only kept his head down.

At least Monday was close. Seeing you always made him feel better. He’d make it all right once and for all.

John woke with a nasty, aching bruise on the right side of his ribs. He feared a trip to the hospital will delay his return, but the scan revealed it was nothing serious, much to his relief. He was given pain meds to help with the injury. But most importantly, it meant he could stick to his schedule to fly back.

Nothing was standing in his way anymore.

I just landed. I’ll head home to get ready for dinner and I’ll come by the shop to pick you up

We’re not having dinner. Meet me at my place at 7

The situation was worse than he’d anticipated. He sighed. Perhaps a little nap would calm his nerves. Sleep hadn’t been kind to him the past few days after all.

When he jolted up from his couch too many hours later, he gasped. It was past 8. With his heart pounding, he was certain you weren’t going to pick up but-

“Love, I’m so, so sorry-“

“Is this another one of your excuses too, John?” Your voice wobbled.

“It’s not an excuse. I took pain meds and slept thought my alarm.” He rubbed his eyes and stood, his legs shaky. “I’ll leave right now, okay?”

The line remained silent as he gathered his belongings.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you said quietly.

He stopped in his tracks.

“I've known you for months, but I don’t know who you are. You've never even once brought me to your place. I’ve never met your friends. I don’t even know what you do that makes you so busy.” Your voice cracked. “You're hiding something, John, and I’m done making excuses for you.”

He held his breath. This is it. “Yes, you’re right. I am. I haven't been truthful to you.”

“I knew it.” You laughed humourlessly. “Men like you can't be single. I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I-“ He sighed, falling back onto the couch. “Would you promise... That nothing will change this?”

“What's this, John?” Your voice rose. “There's nothing here if you can't even be honest with me.”

“I know, and I swear I’ll be honest from now on.” He exhaled sharply. “I’ll tell you my real name. It’s not J-“

“You didn’t even tell me your name?” you repeated. “After these months- I… I can’t believe you.”

“Wait, let me explain, love.”

“I don't even want to know what else you lied about.” You scoffed. “You're a liar and that's all I need to know.”

“Sweetheart, just- just listen, please. I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” you snapped, but the broken sigh that followed shattered his heart. “You’re…  you make me sick.” And the line clicked off.

He kept calling, but instead, you ended up shutting off your phone. He understood you were livid. He hadn’t been who you deserved at all, but he was done waiting. You had to know.

My name is John Price. I’m a Formula One driver for McLaren. Everything else is the truth. Please let me explain

He’d love to go to yours, but his body was giving up on him as the pounding in his head remained.

“I’m sorry, love,” he mumbled before collapsing on his bed.

It was beyond infuriating.

John Sloane, or whatever his name was, was the first man to have caught your eye in a long time. He was kind, laid-back, funny, sweet. He was always there for you, willing to get out of his way to help out. He never needed to tell you that you mattered.

However, the more time passed, the fewer excuses you could make for him. He wouldn’t tell you where he lived, let alone take you there. Sure, maybe he was embarrassed of having a roommate, or if the state of his flat wasn’t in its prime. Perhaps he was a hoarder, although you doubted that because his car was always tidy and taken care of.

But it wasn’t only that. He didn’t have any online presence, nor did you know any of his friends. In public, he always wore a mask, didn’t like crowded places, wouldn’t send you pictures of himself nor have his pictures taken. You never asked, but you assumed he was simply self-conscious.

Yet you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he didn’t want to be recognised, like he was hiding something. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it was getting harder to not think you were the other woman.

Your friends had long dismissed whatever it was you had with him. He had to be married, they said. It was always dodgy - you couldn’t lie, but you should have pressed for an explanation, demanded certainty, or something rather than take his excuses for the sole reason of not pushing him away.

You wanted to trust him, but your patience thinned. When he started being consistently late, became unavailable on weekends, the alarms started blaring. He was spending his time elsewhere and it was bitter on your tongue.

As attentive and caring as John was to you, he was handsome, effortlessly charming. Surely you weren’t the only one who saw it. There were plenty of other ladies out there-

The creak of the shop door interrupted your thoughts. You straightened up and greeted the man as he approached the counter.

He returned your smile, his pearly whites perfect. “Hiya, love. So nice to finally meet you. I’m Kyle, John’s friend.”

Your smile froze as your brows knitted. “Sorry, John who?”

“John Price.”

Your frown deepened. “I’m sorry, I don’t know a John Price.”

The man blinked, confusion in his brown eyes. “But I’ve seen your photos with him-“ He pointed at your nametag. “That’s you, yeah?”

“Yes?”

“You’re pulling my bloody leg, aren’t you?” He let out a nervous chuckle as he whipped out his phone and started typing. “You’re telling me you don’t know him?”

He showed you a selfie of him and the elusive John, each holding up a shiny trophy with a grin.

Congrats JP for winning the first race of the season #BahrainGP

“Right. Yes, of course.” You forced a chuckle. “Got you, didn’t I?”

“Bloody hell, love. For a second I was going to be really embarrassed.” He laughed, scanning the menu. “What’s his favourite drink again? I’ll get that for him, and- you know what, make that four, please, and the cookies too of course.” His eyes flicked back to you. “Obviously, he needs some serious cheering up after Sunday.”

Was that really the John? Your mind whirred as you served him. What happened on Sunday?

He dumped a wad of bills in the tip jar and thanked you again before strutting out with his order. Hope you see you at the paddock soon, he’d said.

You blinked. What was that supposed to mean? Why did this Kyle bloke talk to you like you were supposed to know him? And did he say he’d seen your photos with John? You’d never taken any.

Outside the shop, a couple of young ladies audibly squealed at the sight of Kyle before rushing to take selfies with him.

The man you’d cried over the night before was not who you thought he was. You went to your office and turned your phone on.

Masterlist

@tiredmetalenthusiast @le16erc @kyletogaz @its-me-mila @two-autumns

@voids-universe @the-darling-fishy @fruitymoonbeams-blog @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @freshlemontea

@hungrycrazy @sadcowboyhours @nocturnalreader106 @shinymriver @princessdaniiiii

@eve-lie @stickerguts @dresdensstuff @dwaekkiiiiiiiiiiai @rowanyaboats

@onceitoowasinnocent @msalcatraz

[muxshwriting]

devil town

Erik Lehnsherr x daughter!reader

summary: Erik didn't realise he was a father, but as soon as he did, he became the best one || warnings: nightmares, mentions of death || word count: 918 || masterlist

You hadn’t grown up knowing your father, the same way Erik had lived not knowing he had a daughter. But when you, a mutant with the bizarre ability to control metal, Professor Xavier called in a favour from an old friend.

You’re standing in front of the mansion when he arrives, shifting between your feet. "So you can control metal?"

The man, Erik, removed his sunglasses. "Well, aren’t you direct. I’m assuming you’re the girl Charles called me about."

"Yeah." You shrug. "You're supposed to help me master my gifts or however the Professor puts it."

Erik laugh, actually laughed. "He does have a rather bizarre way of saying things, doesn't he?"

"Yes! Finally someone agrees with me! I mean, he's great and all but he's so weird."

You and Erik got along like a house on fire from then on. He pushed you past your limits, proving time and time again that you could do what you didn’t think was even possible. Before either of you released, it had been three months and Erik was still living at the school, living the lifestyle he once condemned.

One day he comes down to the training room to find you fiddling with a coin between your fingers, a nervous tick you’d picked up from him. "What's wrong?"

"My Mom's coming to visit for parent weekend." You tell him.

"And you're upset about that?"

You shrug. "She's very protective and is gonna be on my ass all weekend. It’s all going to be about what I’ve learnt, what I’m going to do next. Or worse, she’ll grill be about the boys here and ask which one I like best." You shudder at the thought of your mother playing matchmaker again.

The weekend grew closer and closer and before you knew, your mom was climbing out of her car and enveloping you in a rib-crushing hug. The bombardment of questions began immediately. You don’t think your mom stopped asking questions the entire time you gave her a tour. It was never ending.

When you reached the front of the mansion once again, Erik was stood by the front doors. You sent him an expression, begging him to save you. He chuckled slightly as you approached him.

"Mom, I want you to meet Erik, he’s been helping me with my powers."

A look of recognition flashed across Erik’s face as he shook your mother’s hand. Your mother, however, was frozen in place, staring at him. "Honey, this is Erik." She said slowly.

"I know this is Erik, he's been here for the past three months."

"This is the Erik I met 17 years ago..." She widened her eyes. "The Erik from the night I…"

"What?" Your brain restarts. "You mean-" It was as if you only heard what you wanted to, struggling to comprehend what was actually happening. "I can't be his daughter."

Erik finally entered the conversation. "Do you not want to be my daughter?" He asked carefully. 

"I don't mean it like that. I would love to have a dad, someone to rely on. But it's just you- you-"

"I what?"

"You're busy." You reason. "You have more important things to worry about than dealing with me."

"You're my daughter. There's no dealing with you. I'll look after you as much as I can, but you've done a brilliant job so far." He replied honestly. "I'll be here when you need me."

"Really?"

"I’m not going to force myself into your life, it’s your life." Erik quietly said. "I’ll be wherever you need me."

★--~-~--★

You jolt awake, a sticky sheen of sweat covering your entire body. You could see your breath in front of you, the morning air cold stinging your skin. 

Erik! He had just... he was dead. He couldn't be dead right? You had to know. You rounded the corner and quietly knocked on the door. Your heartbeat was like thunder on a silent night and you could barely hear anything over the thrumming. There was no answer to your knock, despite the gentle glow of light under the door.

Without thinking, you push the door open slowly, hoping to see something that told you Erik was alive, that you weren’t crazy and that your dream wasn't real. No Erik. Not even a tussled bedsheet or a crinkled pillow.

"Erik?" Your voice was uncertain as you quietly spoke his name. "Dad?"

A flurry of movement in your peripheral vision had you turning to the other side of the room. Erik was sat at his desk, working over documents of some kind by lamp-light. He frowned as he caught sight of your panicked state.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

You turned to him, a crazed look still in your eyes. You didn't want to think about what you looked like. Hair tangled, covered in sweat, still in your night clothes with a robe and your erratic breath still audible. 

Erik took one look at you and stepped closer, his eyes softening. "Are you okay?" He asked again, his tone softer as he tried to calm you.

"You-" You heaved a breath. "I watched you di-'' You couldn't finish the word but you didn’t have to. Erik knew exactly what you meant.

He reached forward and pulled you into him, holding you tight. "I'm alive. I'm okay." He whispered. "It wasn't real."

"It felt so real."

"I know. But you're safe now. It's over. I'm here." He paused slightly, glancing down at the vulnerable girl in his arms. "Dad's here."

[coco-loco-nut]

Choices

pairing: logan x reader, pato o’ward x reader

summary: when your first love comes back into your life, you are stuck between two choices.

a/n: please enjoy my drunk, post-indy, fic idea (i wrote most of the plot while drunk at the bar. college towns are great guys 😂)

masterlist part 2

———————

“I am so proud of you, amor!” Pato hugs you as soon as he sees you after your graduation. He’s been supporting you since you joined the team as an undergraduate engineering last summer with Arrow McLaren.

“I couldn’t have done it without your support, Pato,” you smile, admiring your boyfriend. He would make sure to visit you when he got the chance, and he always picked up when you called needing to vent or asking for motivation. Your lock screen was a picture of the two of you at a hockey game you snuck him into the student section for, he showed up as a surprise that weekend to help you relax.

“Don’t say that, you got this because of your own merit. The guys send their congratulations, by the way,” Pato tells you. The only people who know about you dating are the other drivers, you didn’t want to risk your internship.

“I hope they aren’t too tired of me, I just accepted an offer for a full time position,” you tell him what you’ve been keeping secret the past few months.

“You deserve it. Does that mean you will be coming to Indy with me?” Pato asks, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.

“Of course. Now, let’s find my parents, I know they will want pictures,” you kiss Pato quickly before looking for your parents. He spots them waiting a few yards away and pulls you over. They have to leave after a celebratory lunch, but Pato stays to help you finish packing up your apartment. You utilize his muscles for putting things in your U-Haul trailer. He even manages to convince you to let him drive to Indianapolis with you.

It doesn’t take you long to settle in with the team that year. Your coworkers throw you a 23rd birthday party the next spring, inviting everyone who worked in the garage (including the drivers) to celebrate. You worked your tail off proving why you deserve to be there and they said you deserve to let loose before the summer.

Later that second summer you are on a date with Pato for your two year anniversary when you get a call from your boss offering a promotion, which you quickly accept.

“You deserve it, you’ve worked so hard,” Pato reaches across the table, grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

“Your support makes it possible, babe,” you reply, squeezing his hand back. You are so helplessly in love with him. At the end of the season, Pato has a ring picked out and he had a plan before he is flown out to Abu Dahbi to drive in free practice for Formula One.

Unbeknownst to Pato, while he is away you are asked to join a virtual meeting with some higher up engineers at McLaren.

“We’d like you to join our Formula One team as we finish developing next year’s car. We will assist in your relocation, all you need to do is say yes,” the offer is virtually laid in front of you. Your mind immediately goes to Pato.

“When do you need an answer?” you ask, making sure you don’t sound disinterested.

“Two days,” they say and you nod.

“I’ll have my decision into you by then. Thank you so much for the opportunity,” you tell them, mulling it over in your brain. A copy of the details pops up in your inbox.

“We hope you say yes,” they tell you as you leave the call.

As you read the document, you know what your answer is going to be. The next day Pato returns and you go for a walk through the local park.

“Will you marry me?” Pato blurts and your heart drops.

“Patricio-,” you start and he cuts you off.

“I know, we are young but-,” this time you cut him off.

“I’m moving to England. McLaren wants me to move to the F1 team, and they are offering to pay for me to get my Masters as well as helping with my relocation, and the money is good,” you start to ramble but stop when the hurt in his eyes matches the hurt in your heart.

“Mi amor, I can support you here, I have enough money for both of us,” he says, praying you didn’t accept yet.

“Babe, I know, but I have to do it for myself. I have to accept the job,” you say, silently pleading that he understands.

“What about us,” tears start rolling down his cheeks.

“I don’t know, Patricio,” tears form in your eyes as you say his name softly, he loves it when you call him by his full name.

“We can make it work,” Pato says, despite both of you knowing it won’t.

“Pato,” your voice cracks with emotion. The two of you know what has to happen.

“I know. At least keep this, it’s only meant for you. Maybe one day it will be on its rightful place,” he pulls out the ring and shows it to you. That’s when the tears flow, and he pulls you into him.

“Please don’t think that I don’t love you. I would say yes a million times if it wasn’t for this offer. This is the hardest decision I’ve ever made,” you cry as he holds you tight.

“I know. I love you more than you know,” he whispers. He walks you back to your apartment, leaving you with a heartfelt kiss goodbye. A few days later you are gone.

When you meet Lando and Oscar, you are wary of them, they remind you too much of Pato, but it only takes a week for them to crack your shell. They saw how sad you were and learned how young you are and immediately wanted to get to know the new American on the team.

You carefully balance work and classes, wishing you could pick up the phone and call Pato, but you can’t. Instead, you fiddle with the ring you keep on a chain around your neck, you added a P charm to the necklace.

“Y/n! I want you to meet Logan, he’s American too,” Oscar drags a blonde boy into the motorhome behind him during testing. You look up from your coursework and offer a welcoming smile.

“There aren’t many Americans around, are there?” you jokingly ask, motioning for Logan to sit down.

“No. So where are you from?” Logan asks as you quickly mark where you are at. Oscar slips out of the room, hoping his matchmaking skills worked as you tell Logan about your start in Indycar.

Oscar failed at first, you were determined to keep Logan in the friend zone. But he broke down your walls and somehow convinced you to date him a couple months later.

Everything goes smoothly from late May until October when COTA comes around. You visit your family the week before the race, and that’s when your mother drops a bomb.

“What are you going to do when you see Pato this weekend?” she asks.

“What?”

“Didn’t you see? Pato is driving free practice at COTA and Mexico,” your mom tells you and you feel your stomach flip, it takes everything in you to not reach for the ring around your neck.

“No, I must’ve missed that email,” you say softly. You do really love Logan, but there is a reason you can’t bring yourself to take off the necklace unless you are with Logan. There’s been times when you have wanted to tell him, Oscar, and Lando about Pato, but you never do, it’s too painful.

You arrive at COTA and it’s clear something is off, but you brush every question off. Pato arrives the same way, nervous to see you again. He is wearing a hair tie on his wrist, one that you left behind. He wears it for the same reason you wear the ring.

“Oh! One of our engineers is from America, used to work in IndyCar. Maybe you know her,” Lando says to Pato, not picking up on Pato’s uncomfortableness as Lando drags him around. It’s odd for the Mexican driver to be uncomfortable.

“Y/n, hi,” Pato awkwardly and breathlessly says, you almost drop your tablet from where you are standing in the garage. How is it possible for him to look this good.

“Patricio, hi. How are you doing? Tough luck on the 500, I meant to text you,” you say softly, setting the tablet down and approaching him and Lando. He can barely breathe, to him you’ve only gotten more beautiful.

“Thanks, it’s okay, I’ll get it next year. Maybe I would’ve won if you were there,” Pato ruefully smiles, your heart drops.

“Maybe, but don’t think like that. You’ve always been okay driving without me,” you match his rueful smile. Lando looks between you, a little confused. Pato goes to say something, noticing a P sticking out of the collar of your shirt where a necklace is, but Oscar interrupts.

“Hey, Logan is looking for you outside,” Oscar tells you, you can’t suppress the happy look on your face.

“It was nice talking to you again, Pato,” you tell the Mexican and quickly exit towards where Logan is waiting.

“How do you know her?” oscar asks suspiciously, picking up the longing look Pato is giving you.

“She’s my ex, she broke up with me when she moved to formula one. We were going to get married,” Lando cringes. he remembers how sad you were when you joined the team, it’s why he befriended you. “Who is Logan?” Pato asks Oscar, feeling like he’s missing something.

“Her boyfriend,” Oscar says, feeling the urge to defend his best friend and engineer, but also wanting to crawl in a hole and die.

“That’s something you need to talk about with her, if it makes any difference, she was unhappy for a long time after moving here,” Lando says, ending that topic.

Pato nods, turning his focus to the drive. Luckily for you, you are currently one of Lando’s engineers, so you are busy with him all weekend.

“Y/n, we should talk,” Pato approaches you carefully.

“Pato,” you say his name warily, it’s like a dagger to his heart.

“Please. Come with me to Mexico. I won’t try anything out of respect to your boyfriend, but we both deserve to talk about some stuff. Plus, Mami and Elba miss you,” Pato says and you pause to think about it.

“San Antonio is on the way,” you think out loud, still mulling it over.

“It’s just tomorrow that we’d be there, leaving first think Tuesday morning to get to the track on time,” Pato insists. Even if it’s a bad idea, almost all of you wants to go.

“Okay, I’ll join you,” you relent, and he almost hugs you.

“I’ll drive you from the hotel,” Pato says, turning to leave before turning around again. “You will have to unblock my number so I can text you,” he adds and you fight the smile playing on your lips.

“I never blocked you, Patricio,” you admit, and his heart melts at how you say his name.

“Oh, I will see you soon then,” he says, not quite sure how to reply, leaving you to pack you backpack.

“You okay?” Lando asks and you shoot him a weird look.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We know you used to date him,” Lando says and your eyes widen.

“We?”

“Oscar and I, yeah. Wait, you aren’t even denying it,”

“I broke up with him to take the job here when he was proposing even when I wanted to say yes, we dated most of the time I was at Arrow McLaren, I still wear his ring and initial on a necklace,” you blurt, knowing Lando isn’t going to judge too much.

“Oh. Wow, ok. Is it a nice ring?” Lando asks and you tug the chain, pulling it in front of your polo. “He has good taste. What were you talking about?” Lando pushes further as you tuck the chain behind your polo again.

“I’m going to San Antonio with him tonight and tomorrow,” you say, needing someone to confide in that isn’t your college friends.

“Does Logan know?” Lando asks and you shake you head.

“That’s the next step, once you are done asking questions,” you bump his shoulder lightly.

“No, like, does he know about your history with Pato,” Lando asks, glad Oscar isn’t around.

“No, I can never bring myself to tell him. I think we both know that we might not last past this season,” you admit. Logan and you had said as much to each other a couple weeks ago. He admitted that he isn’t sure where he sees it going after the season.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lando pauses, thinking about it.

“Don’t be, he knows that I had just gotten out of a serious relationship when we became friends and I know he isn’t ready for something long term yet. Obviously I’m still going to try to make things work, because I do love him, but I’m also going to take comfort in knowing that we tried,” you pull your backpack over your shoulders. Lando says a quick goodbye before you walk out to find Logan’s rental car where he is waiting.

“Hey sweetie,” he kisses you when you get in. Any tension in your body leaves when you see him.

“Hi, Lo, ready to get back to the hotel?” you ask as he backs out of the space.

“So ready, I just want cuddles and a nap,” Logan groans a little, you reach up and play with the ends of his hair as he drives. Despite you having a room from McLaren, you are staying with Logan in his room this race weekend.

“That sounds perfect,” you admire the way the sun makes his hair look lighter and his blue eyes clearer. You change while he takes a quick shower, tucking the necklace into a pocket in your backpack.

“Don’t go to San Antonio with Pato,” Logan says suddenly while you lay in bed with him.

“What?”

“Come with me back to Fort Lauderdale instead, please. I heard Pato tell Oscar that you were joining him, and I know your history with him even if you didn’t explicitly tell me. And I get it, it must be hard to bring up. I don’t want to lose you, I love you,” Logan whispers and you feel your gut twist as you are left with a choice.

Logan offers you a chance to start fresh and continue the new relationship you built, but Pato offers the chance to rekindle an old flame that never quite burnt out. How the hell are you going to choose.

part two

[bradleybeachbabe]

The Chair

pairing: Cowboy!Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie meets you for the first time while he’s out at a bar

warnings: mention of bar, mention of drinking, mention of alcohol, flirting, eddie calling the reader ‘baby,’ fast burn, catching feelings, cute first meet, kissing, eddie and the reader acting like a couple even though they aren’t together

word count: 1.6k+

a/n: just for clarification, the title is a country song, but in the fic, eddie and the reader are dancing to a whole different song. i totally recommend listening to the song, so then you can get the whole idea of what i mean by that! also i did add my own little details/plot in the fic, but overall, the fic is still pretty much following the whole story in the song! and if you know me well enough, you know how much i love country music!

Eddie was glad that it was the end of the week. That means he can just relax for the next few days, and not worry about work until the new week arrives. Since it was finally the weekend, he decided to head into town and hang out at the local bar.

When Eddie entered the bar, it was already packed, even though it was only a little past seven. He made his way to the bar and ordered himself a beer. When he got his beer, he walked away. He told the bartender to keep his tab open.

Eddie was heading over to the usual place where he sits every time he comes to the bar, but when he came into view of the seat. He noticed that it was taken. It was taken by someone who he had never seen before. Eddie was stunned by this someone. Since Eddie was stunned by this someone, he decided to take the chance and just walk up, sit down, and start a conversation.

“Excuse me? Is this seat taken?” He asked when he walked up.

“Oh! Not at all,” you said. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

Eddie took a seat in the empty chair next to you, “Could I buy you a drink? If you don’t mind," He asked.

“I don't mind at all. Also, I’m fine with anything, just in case you're wondering,” you informed Eddie.

“Perfect,” Eddie said as he got up from his seat. He walked over to the bar to order a drink. Once Eddie got your drink he walked back to where you were sitting.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” He said when he came back and handed you the same beer that he was drinking.

“Y/N,” You smiled.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Eddie smiled as he sat down back in his chair that was next to you.

“You too,” you smiled.

You were hoping that this conversation would go further with Eddie. Granted, you just met him, you thought he was pretty handsome.

“Are you meeting anyone here?” Eddie all of a sudden asked you. When Eddie asked you that question, it took you by surprise.

“No, I’m not,” you shook your head. “I decided to just come out here tonight all by myself.”

“Well, that makes two of us then,” Eddie told you.

You just smiled at Eddie.

“So? Are you from the area?” Eddie then asked you. Eddie thought it was cliché asking you that question, but there was something in him that wanted to know about you.

“I am,” you nodded. “Dallas, to be exact. What about you?” you asked.

“El Paso,” Eddie responded.

“Woah! That’s pretty far from here. What brings you out here?”

“Well, I don’t live too far from here. I moved out of El Paso not too long after I graduated from high school, which was roughly nineteen years ago. And so, when I did, I decided to take a different path at things, and get my hands on owning a ranch and raising farm animals,” Eddie explained to you.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “So, how is that going for you then?”

“It’s going pretty well,” Eddie nodded his head. “I love it. I’m so glad that I went down that path nineteen years ago because I can’t imagine doing anything else,” Eddie said. “What about you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I was born and raised here in Dallas. I graduated from high school around seventeen years ago, and straight out of high school, I went to college,” you explained to Eddie.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did you go to college for?” He asked you.

“For Sports Journalism,” you said.

Eddie was impressed by your answer.

“Oh wow, that’s pretty neat!” Eddie cheered.

“Yep,” you nodded your head. “I’m so happy that I went down that career path. I love doing what I do.”

———

You and Eddie have been talking for the past hour. In the past hour, you have learned so much about him. He learned so much about you too.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” Eddie randomly asked you after he was done talking about his son, Christopher to you. Dancing wasn’t really on your mind since you were so caught up in getting to know about Eddie, but you thought it wouldn’t hurt to dance with him.

“Of course!”

Eddie extended his hand to you to grab. You grabbed his hand, and you two made your way to the dance floor. The band was singing one of your favorite songs, which was the perfect song to dance to.

Eddie placed one of his hands on your waist and held the other. You two were just swaying around to the music. Once in a while, Eddie would spin you around in a circle.

“You have no idea how much I love this song,” you smiled.

The song that the band was singing was One Night At A Time by George Strait. And it was true, you do love the song. You even grew up listening to every song by George Strait, and it was because of your parents. Both of them enjoyed his music very much. So, that’s how you ended up loving his music too.

“Oh really?” Eddie smiled. “Because I love this song too. It reminds me of you and me, baby”

You felt butterflies in your stomach when Eddie said that to you. You have been called ‘baby’ before, but there was something about Eddie calling you that, that made you feel so happy inside.

“You’re such a flirt,” you teased.

“Oh, I know!” Eddie shrugged his shoulders playfully.

———

You and Eddie were still dancing with one another. The band was now playing more of a slow song, so you were just swaying back and forth with each other.

“Hey, I have a question?” Eddie asked out of nowhere.

“What’s your question?” you looked up at Eddie.

“Do you think there’s a chance that later on I could drive you home? If you don’t mind," he asked.

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

“Perfect.”

———

You and Eddie were the last ones out of the bar. You two got so caught up in getting to know each other and dancing together, that you two lost track of time and didn’t realize how late it was until the bartender yelled out the last call for drinks.

Eddie was driving you back home. Luckily, your house was in the same direction as his, so he didn’t have to drive in the opposite direction to drop you off.

“Thank you so much for everything. I had such a fun time with you tonight,” you smiled as Eddie pulled up in front of your house.

“I had a fun time with you too,” Eddie said. Eddie wanted to say more just than that. He wanted to say something along the lines that he hopes to see you again soon, or that you’re beautiful, or better yet, kiss you.

“Goodnight,” you said to Eddie as you got out of his truck. You closed the door behind you and walked up to the driveway of your house.

Eddie didn’t drive off yet. He was waiting for you to get into your house safely. While he was waiting for you to do, he just decided to park his truck and get out. He knew that if he didn’t say or do anything, he was going to regret it when he got back home.

“Y/N,” he spoke as he walked up your driveway to get your attention.

“Yeah?” you said when you turned around.

“There’s been something I have been wanting to do ever since I met you earlier tonight,” Eddie said when he approached you.

“What is it?”

“It’s this,” and that’s when Eddie put both hands on each cheek of yours and leaned into you and kissed you. You happily kissed him back.

You pulled apart from the kiss, “I’m so happy you did that because you have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you ever since we were back at the bar, but I was too scared to make the first move,” you smiled as you wrapped your arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Well, luckily, your wish came true,” Eddie said.

“I’ll see you around, Eddie,” you said when you unwrapped your arms from his neck.

“How about the same place tomorrow?” Eddie asked you.

“Or maybe you could take me out on a date instead?” you suggested.

“I like the sound of that. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six then?” Eddie asked.

“Six is fine with me.”

“It’s a date then.”

go follow @bradleybeachbabe-library to be notified when i post any new fics!

[holybibly]

Object of Desire | OT8 |

Pairing: otx8 x reader

Genre: sugar daddy au, dark romance, smut, vampire au,

Word Count: 9.2 k

Summary: Caught in a web of deceit and forbidden pleasures, Nabi quickly learns that some obsessions can be deadly and love can bite.

WARNING: only!18+ Blood drinking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, voice kink, daddy kink, master/pet game, pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, seduction, BDSM, polyamory, mirror sex, marking, voyeurism, power play, and more.

Disclaimer: I do not support themes of violence, obsession, possessiveness, or emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: I honestly didn't expect so much interest in this story and I'm so happy to see these cute 'hearts' popping up in my notifications all the time. I'm an emotional mess. And so, even though I know I should be concentrating on "The Divine Rosa", there are too many other ideas in my head that I can't (won't) ignore, so here we go. "Object of Desire" will be different in style, so I hope you'll love it as much as my main work "The Divine Rosa". A promised bonus for everyone who voted for Seonghwa in the poll will be released this weekend. I'll try to release Woosan next week, the preview will be out this weekend. Comments are welcome, I really appreciate your reactions. If you'd like to be added to the tag list for this or future updates, let me know in the comments. Divider @saradika

Part 1. Do you want to make a deal with the Devil?

Now going out of town in the middle of the night with Yeonjun seemed like a bad idea.

A very bad one, I thought.

God, what was I thinking when I agreed to do this? Yesterday, this whole venture seemed like a great way to solve my problems, but now the prospect was not so rosy.

Sometimes I feel like a complete idiot, and this is one of those times.

Outside the window the dark landscape was sweeping by at high speed; the bare trees were shrouded in an ominous gloom, and only the dim light of the tall street lamps over the road was the only source of illumination to guide us in the darkness.

It seemed that the darkness around us did not stop Yeonjun from driving. His posture was relaxed and his hand was sure as he turned the wheel in the right direction, the diamond bracelet on his thin wrist sparkling with starlight. One of the many family jewels that Yeonjun treated with special affection.

In contrast to him, I couldn't relax and kept fidgeting on the leather seat made of black Iberian leather, no less.

Every part of my body was begging me to stop and come home before it was too late.  Not so, I had imagined that we were going to an elite club. I knew that we would be there late at night, but the fact that the club was way out of town came as an unpleasant surprise.

At the moment it's an hour's drive from Seoul and more than an hour and a half to the destination on the GPS.

The whole thing was strange and made me dizzy, or was it the thick smell of Yeonjun's perfume? It was a dense, smoky scent with a hint of vanilla. Powerful enough to draw the eyes of everyone around to its source, and sexy enough to make you want to kiss the naked skin of the wearer of this tantalising scent.

It would be several days before I was able to wash off the remnants of his perfume after our meeting, so much of it had eaten its way into my skin.

I glanced at Yeonjun; a stray yellowish-white light from the lantern momentarily illuminated his face, and a shadow of long velvet eyelashes fell on his pale cheeks. His black raven hair was streaked with flashes of platinum and gold. He looked otherworldly - I would even say demonic.

I felt a palpable shiver run through my body, as if someone had just dipped my heart into a bucket of icy water.

"Jun." My voice was terribly uncertain. "I don't think I can do this." I said as my fingers pulled down the hem of a short dress. The expensive material looked luxurious in a perfect shade of white and was decorated with a sprinkling of crystals. Yeonjun insisted that I wear it tonight and said that I would be grateful for it as soon as we got to the club. I don't think I'd ever choose something like that for myself, and not just because of its crazy cost; Jun's fashion preferences were so different from mine. He was a fan of overt sexuality and bold lines; I, on the other hand, preferred neutrals and comfort. "I have changed my mind; this proposal does not suit me at all. Maybe we can go back..."

Yeonjun smiled softly as he turned to me, but in the darkness of the drawing room the smile was more ominous than reassuring, his lips the most breathtaking shade of red I had ever seen.

Warning bells began to ring in my head. There are times when you can sense danger even before you are faced with it.

"Nabi, my dear, there is nothing for you to be worried about. We have already discussed this. Remember?" His hand was cold as he laid it on my knee. "I will take care of everything. You're my guest tonight, which means you're under my protection." The long fingers shrank a little, a kind of confirmation of his words. His fingernails were painted glossy black, and his fingers were adorned with several silver rings.

I would like to believe that nothing is going to happen to me, but my insides are tied up in a tight knot of fear.

Miss Kim Seoyun's words echoed in my head like thunder: "Humble yourself and surrender to destiny; you are where you are supposed to be.

When did I start believing all this? This is no time to panic, Nabi.

Everything will be fine.

To be honest, Yeonjun was never my first choice when I needed help, and I always tried to keep a certain distance from him for a number of reasons. There was something so predatory about him, almost animalistic, that lit up the red lights of danger, but I was desperate; student loans, rent, insurance and food were starting to pile up. I was in desperate need of money, and preferably a lot of it, fast.

The threat of being left out on the streets and being thrown out of university has never been as real as it is now.

The only thing that gave me the slightest bit of confidence was Jimin's assurance that I could trust Yeonjun completely and how carefree he was.

Damn, Jun looked like we were going on a spontaneous romantic trip instead of a closed elite club outside the city in the middle of the night.

I asked myself again, "Why did I agree to this?" Oh yes, money. A lot of money.

A few days ago, Yeonjun contacted me and offered to help me with my money problem. Of course, Park Jimin couldn't keep his big mouth shut and told him about my problems. He told me that one of his friends at the private club had a good deal for me. I could make a lot of money out of it.

The income was enough to pay off all my debts and the number of zeros on offer was enough to turn my head.

It was an unequivocal and desperate "YES" and at that moment I did not think at all about the consequences or the characteristics of this proposal.

Jun also promised me a lot of fun but after I signed the NDA and read the multi-page contract with its veiled meaning and rather vague wording of some specific points, doubts blossomed in my chest, and I began to understand what kind of fun was being discussed.

Looks like I made a deal with the Devil.

The dress was delivered on the eve of our trip, a few hours before Yeonjun's chic Ferrari pulled up outside my dorm room. The all-white gown, richly embroidered with blue topaz and opal, was incredible. The plunging neckline of the corsage barely covered the lace bralet of the same colour as the dress.

I have never seen my breasts look so full and so soft. I would even call it seductive. Everything I moved had to be clean and graceful; if I moved too sharply, the soft pink halos of my nipples would start to show. This was beyond the limits of my modesty. At one point, I could even feel Yeonjun's searing gaze resting on my cleavage. It was a carnal look with a shadow of hidden lust in the depths of the dark, shining pupils. It was the first time in the several years of our dubiously friendly communication that he had shown such a desire for me.

The dress and underwear came with four-inch heels. Of course, if my life had been in danger and I had tried to escape, there would have been no chance of success. Incidentally, I'm a terrible runner; I bet I couldn't have run more than ten meters before I collapsed with breathlessness. I should have gone to the gym when Jimin offered it to me.

Oh my God, Nabi, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?

Jun's silky voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"You have such a tense look on your face, my darling." He purred. "We'll be there soon, Nabi. Try to relax; you're going to love "Crescent", I'm sure."

Why did it have such a sinister ring to it? "Crescent" - the name was sweet enough, I would say poetic, but the way Yeonjun rolled the word over his tongue as if he could feel its taste - thick and viscous - made the name something forbidden and sinful. Well, the idea of the cult was not so absurd to me. And that stupid prophecy never left my mind.

"You're where you should be..."

In the reflection of the small mirror in the car, I met my gaze. My pupils were dilated like those of a hunted prey. And though I tried to calm down, I could feel the cold, predatory touch of Yeonjun's hand all too well. Baby, it looks like you're going to get caught.

I ask myself again. Why did I find myself in this situation?

Dressed in the most luxurious designer clothes, like a real doll. Ready to become an exclusive blood donor for a very wealthy private community whose clients needed this kind of service, accompanied by one of Seoul's wealthiest heirs.

Now I can say: "Hey, Nabi, you really screwed up."

❤︎❤︎❤︎

A few days before the visit to "Crescent"

I looked again at the envelope lying on my bed. It had been delivered early in the morning, when the whole city was in a half-awake haze and the streets were not yet filled with coffee and fresh pastries from charming little cafes. The envelope was just left on the door, as if it were something unwanted, without bothering to deliver it to the to the addressee.

Why do we even pay for a delivery service?

He's been there for a couple of hours with the overdue bills and some flyers. I found him on my way to get a life-saving coffee, which had to be postponed due to the unexpected arrival of this mysterious object.

And that didn't make me feel any happier at all.

The thick, dark purple paper looked regal and too expensive to be mediocre; usually such envelopes contained bad news or invitations to a private bohemian reception, but it was too fancy for the former and impossible for the latter. Poor students can't get into high society unless they spread their legs in front of someone's wrinkled dick. And I wasn't inclined to do that.

I took the envelope back to my room and put it on the bed. It looked impossibly ridiculous—I would even say vulgar—surrounded by fluffy pink pillows and a variety of stuffed animals—a small army, as Jimin liked to put it. The envelope was a perfect match for its sender—luxurious, vulgar, and obscenely expensive—the very embodiment of Yeonjun's tastes. Judging by the ten missed phone calls and a whole bunch of messages, Jun wanted to make sure that the envelope had been delivered. He even linked it to Jimin, which almost offended me.

I still remember how, on a stupid whim, I had to dye his hair pink in the middle of the night while his sweet, high-pitched voice babbled something like, "Make me look like the Sugar Plum Fairy." After that, you swore to be absolutely loyal to me, Jimin.

All men do is lie.

I didn't have the strength to play in peepers with purple paper. It was giving me a headache. I also had to give an answer to one of the culprits in this situation; otherwise, the scale of the drama would reach the dimensions of the universe.

Come on, Nabi. It's just an envelope. It won't bite you.

After I had settled down comfortably on the bed, I decided to begin to reply to Yeonjun's message.

"I've received the envelope with the documents you told me about, Jun. I'm so grateful for your help." Okay, that was nice, maybe. Or at least I wanted it to be that way. I'm definitely not going to text him to say that I've been deliberately ignoring his texts and calls. Anyway, we had a pretty interesting relationship with Yeonjun. They were never very sweet. The second one was for Jimin, and as my fingers were hovering over the letters with the first apologies, the phone started to vibrate.

Our photo with Jimin flashed on the screen. We were on a trip to Pusan, his hometown. The golden beach in the purple sunset, smiling Chim and Taehyung—his gorgeous boyfriend-and me with a grimace, burnt shoulders and one shoe in hand, the other lost in an unequal battle with tidal waves. When you look at this photo, you can immediately say that it is summer, my least favourite season. I don't even know why it was necessary for them to drag me along on this trip. Most of the time I was on my own. While Chimin tried to lick Te's tonsils or fought off the frat boys who thought buying a sugary-sweet cocktail would magically open my legs. So that was how two weeks of my "fun" summer holiday went by.

And here we are again, back to the lie. Let's go; it'll be fun, they said.

How this photo ended up on Jimin's contact screen is still a mystery to me. But that's not the point now. I took a deep breath and picked up the phone:

"Hi baby."

"Oh! Did you really answer my call instead of ignoring it as usual? How can you treat me like this? I am your soul mate. The only light in your dark world; you don't love me at all?" There was the sound of a fake sob on the other side of the phone. "I've never been ignoring you, Chim." I didn't get to finish because I was interrupted.

"I've called you a lot—eighteen times to be exact. And you, my dear butterfly, haven't answered a single call. You're making me nervous, Nabi, and that's making Taehyung nervous."

"If you'd let me finish, then you'd know how much I love you and how impossible it is to ignore you." He couldn't see my smile. But I'm sure he could feel it in my words. "You are the only light in my boring life; will you forgive me? And please apologise to Tae. I know my sunlight can be quite unbearable sometimes. So why did you call me?"

"First of all, I wanted to know if you'd received an envelope from Yeonjun; you don't answer when he calls, so he called me. More importantly, have you opened it, Nabi?" He asked, sounding genuinely interested as he spoke.

"Yes, Chim, I got the envelope." I ran my fingers over the dark purple paper in a thoughtful manner. "And no, I didn't open it yet. I'm not sure I even wanna. Is this a good idea, Jimin? All of it?"

"You're being too dramatic, in my opinion. Jun wants to help you. All you have to do, my beautiful butterfly, is relax and accept his help. Sometimes sweet little girls like you just need someone who can solve all of their problems for them." Jimin told me in a patronizing way. In a way, I had to agree with him, but hey! I'm not a damsel in distress or a sugar baby; even though I was in trouble, it wasn't as bad as it looked. Jimin's a bit of an exaggerator. "It's not that hard. You go to the club with Yeonjun, have fun, and in the morning you have a few thousand dollars in your account. How does that sound for you?" Park Jimin had a very annoying way of being right all the time. It really wasn't that hard to accept Yeonjun's offer, earn enough to pay off your debts, and take a little time out of the eternal race for money. In the end, I have to think about myself sometimes.

"Okay, I'll listen to you and try to relax. One last question, though: Are you trusting Yeonjun?" And this question made me feel much more uncomfortable than the secret clubs, the elite society, and the complete financial crisis.

"Absolutely." Now his voice sounded confident and serious. "Nabi, Yeonjun and I have been friends for years. I'm sure you'll be safe around him. Jun wants the best for you, and so do I, and if you'll let us, we'll give it to you. You do know that you can ask me for anything, right?" The warmth and care that I could hear in every single word that he said to me warmed my heart. "I am not going to ask you for money."

"You're a stubborn, willful, and terribly categorical bitch, and now I can understand why you haven't had sex for so long. Can't you just let me and Tae look after you? Say the word, and you'll have the whole world to yourself. Sometimes I honestly don't understand how I can love you with such intensity. Given your utter inability to take advantage of opportunities. We're the best package deal ever. Do you know that? Where else are you going to find such a good dick and a black card as a bonus?" He asked.

"Jesus, Jimin! You can stop this. We're not fucking, is that clear? And I'm not going to take your money, even if you try to put your credit card in my hand every time. I can handle this on my own. "I shouted in a huff.

"OK, don't be uptight." He was such a bitch sometimes. He really enjoyed irritating me. "But I'm right. Aren't I? It's been a long time since you've been scolded. Go on, say I'm right. Come on, Nabi, tell me everything. Are you playing with yourself, dirty girl, or do you need to be taught a lesson? I want details."

There were times when I couldn't understand why God was punishing me in this way, but I guess it was the reckoning for the sins of my ancestors that could come in the form of the pink-headed Park Jimin.

"I hate you. I wasn't serious.

"I know." Chimin said cheekily. "By the way, to calm your nerves a bit, I'll tell you. I personally know some members of the club you and Yeonjun are going to. They are Taehyung's friends, so have no fear. But the best thing about these clubs are the men. Nabi, there are men there who make me believe in the existence of Greek gods and fallen angels." Jimin said it dreamily. "God, I would show them how flexible I can be if I didn't go out with Tae."

"All right, stop with that. I get it." I wasn't in the mood to listen to the dirty fantasies of my best friend right now. Especially when you consider the fact that he was absolutely right about my sexual life. I'd been single for a long time.

"Okay, nun, I won't corrupt you; otherwise, you'll have a desire for sex."

"Park Jimin!" I squealed.

Jimin just laughed out loud on the other side of the phone.

"I won't do it again. I promise." Actually, I didn't call you in the first place because of Yeonjun or your arrangement, but I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere with me.

"Where exactly do you have it in mind?"

"Do you have any idea about Paradigm?" "That fancy spiritualist boutique on Instagram everyone's talking about? I've had a bit of a hearing about it." Why would Jimin want to go to Paradigm? It was a place that was just as private and secret as the one that I had to go to with Yeonjun. "I have to pick up some packages for Taehyung; you know he's obsessed with all kinds of mystical stuff, and this damn boutique only gives out packages—no deliveries—can you imagine that? It feels like the Holy Grail, not a silly amulet."

"As defined by your style with Tae, it sounds terribly stilted and expensive. Sure, I'll go. Give me an hour or so; I need some time to pack."

"Fine, I'll pick you up. Wait for me, my love."

"Please, just pick something a little more simple than your Porsche.

"I love my Porsche; what's wrong with my car?"

"It's too much attention. Last time, everyone at the university talked about it for a whole week. There were even questions about whether you were my sugar daddy or not.

"I definitely love it. It is the universe's way of telling you that there is no need for resistance. I am going to take care of you, my little butterfly. And I am definitely going to come and pick you up in a Porsche. See you in one hour, baby."

"Jimin, just not in a Porsche!" I shouted, but it was too late; I only heard beeping.

As always, it was Park Jimin who had the last word.

I was happy to be able to postpone opening the purple envelope for a while because of this unexpected trip. Even though an occult boutique or something like that wasn't the best prospect.

Anyway, it's time to pack.

Jimin has a strict rule. He's never late.

Exactly one hour later, Jimin's Porsche picked me up from the dorm, and to all my indignation, the only response he gave was a mocking giggle.

There was good traffic on the roads. After twenty minutes, we stopped at the glass door with the silver star engraving. The exquisite sign above the door read as follows: Paradigm is a boutique of spiritualism." The phases of the moon, from New Moon to Descending Moon, were written on the board below the sign.

"Let's go, Nabi. Pick up the package, and I'll take you home. I know you still need to get Yeonjun registered." Chim wrapped his hands around my forearm and literally dragged me into the boutique as we entered.

As we walked in, the bells above the door began to ring, but the sound was not familiar to me; it looked more like glass than metal. When I looked up, I understood the reason for the sound. There were crystal bells hanging above the door, with long strings of pearls and little silver crescents. It was a very beautiful sight. While I had my eyes on the bells, Jimin was already in conversation with the girl behind the counter. She was tall, with a cascade of long, golden hair. Her features were large and expressive. The girl looked more like a model than a soothsayer or spiritualist, although in the age of Instagram, maybe that's what modern wizards and witches should look like.

I couldn't hear the whole of the conversation, just bits and pieces of it: "It's a parcel for Kim Taehyung. "Yes, it concerns the Kim family." "Please deliver it as soon as possible."

While they were talking, I thought I'd take a look around the shop.

The common room was not large; the shape of the room was round, probably because of some mystical meaning. The walls were covered with velvet curtains, behind which a number of doors were concealed. On metal shelves were various objects: crystal balls, shards of precious stones, heavy tomes on voodoo and fortune-telling, ancient talismans in forged frames, hare legs—a symbol of good luck—and other magical items. There was something macabre about this place—a thick, dense air in which the scent of frankincense and myrtle was vivid—and the heavy, lingering presence of something otherworldly, like a ghostly footprint—a very evil footprint. In all other respects, it was the same luxurious, new-fangled boutique for the chosen rich or the mystical amateur.

My attention was drawn to a crown. It lay on a velvet cushion on one of the many shelves. There were nine black diamonds at the center of the crown. They were surrounded by rubies, so deep in scarlet that they cast a black glow, and pearls to match. The lines of the metal were twisted. They were like snakes wrapped around jewels. The cut of the diamonds was not typical; it was something extremely rare for this kind of gemstone—the Empress.

I was drawn to this crown as if it were a magnet. This feeling of inescapable attraction that you can't resist—I have a feeling like this crown has always belonged to me. Now we are finally reunited. I reached out to touch it, to feel the coolness of the dark, glittering diamonds under my fingers, and I almost did when someone's hand fell on my shoulder.

"You shouldn't touch that, dear."

I gave a frightened jerk, either at the touch of someone else or at the low voice that had come so close to me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was just attracted to this crown, and I..." I had no idea how to explain the fact that I'd literally had a call from a piece of metal. Even for a place like this, it might have sounded crazy.

As I turned, I saw a woman in her 40s. Like the girl at the counter, she was more like a modern socialite on Instagram than an occult shop worker.

"All right, darling, the important thing is that you stopped it in time. This thing has a bad reputation; every one of its owners has ended up committing suicide. Anyway, my name is Kim Seoyun, owner of Paradigm. What brings you here today?"

"I'm here with a friend who needs to pick up a package for his boyfriend."

"A young man with pink hair, right? He's in the office with JaYoung; they're in charge of the registration," Seoyun said.

Even the names of the two were breathtakingly beautiful and meaningful. Sometimes the universe invests more in some than others. Seoyun frowned for a moment, as if she had read my thoughts. Then her face cleared, and she smiled softly.

"You're a beautiful girl, Nabi."

"Thank you." I sounded terribly stupid; sometimes I act like a complete fool, but I couldn't think of a more witty response. There was an uncomfortable silence between us. Until it was broken by SeoYun, who asked me a question.

"Do you want me to tell you what your fate is going to be like? My clients are of the opinion that I'm very precise in my predictions."

"Oh no, you don't have to do that." I waved away. "I don't really have a lot of faith in destiny and omens."

"You don't believe in destiny?" She arched her eyebrow in a skeptical manner. "Or don't you want to believe in it?"

"I'm a realist; I can't imagine believing in a destiny and hoping for some mystical higher power to intervene."

"Hmm, this is quite interesting. Come on, let's play," she said, picking up a Taro deck and opening it like a fan. She handed it to me. "You choose five cards; two of them are about love, two of them are about the future, and the last card is about the inevitable destiny, something that's been foretold since your birth."

I won't lie, I was so curious, even though I had no faith in the cards in my hand. My hand reached out for a pack of cards, my fingers hovering over the smooth, flickering surface as if I were trying to feel the ones I needed.

Fatum—the word had a scary ring to it.

AfterI had quickly decided on the four cards, I solemnly drew the last card and handed it over to Miss Kim.

Seoyun took the cards from me with a knowing smile. She began to turn them over one by one and started to explain what each meant.

"You are going to love like it is hard to imagine." She said. Feelings carried threatening limits. Crazy, wild, and burning love—this is a card that comes up very rarely, but it has a very strong meaning. It is the Queen of Cups. For someone who really loves you, you are going to be a true queen, a goddess; everything will be done for you; everything you want will be fulfilled; but if you get too caught up in this feeling, you will be too easily controlled. As strong as this love is, so strong is the destructiveness of it. You should be more careful with it.

The next card was turned over by Seoyun.

"The star is a bright omen for you. You have a choice in front of you that will change everything. Follow the star, and it will show you the path, but remember, no star shines without darkness. This is a map that will lead you to where you need to be. In search of that guiding star, it looks like I'm going to have to look up in the sky some more. Perhaps I should also follow the spiders in order to find the Chamber of Secrets as well.

I treated them with absolute skepticism.

"Death: everything has a cycle, and when death appears, it means you're nearing the end of one. The appearance of death is the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. It may have something to do with the love that awaits you. Your loneliness is about to end."

"The Five Cups is a situation in which you are stuck and can't move forward. This card is about your problems and the need for change in your life. This is the same kind of magical kick that is followed by heavy and dramatic events. The Fives indicate that this is only the second act of the great play; there is still much to come, but the finale promises to be happy if you accept your destiny. Otherwise, it can always end in tragedy. This card tells you: Accept yourself and surrender."

I didn't have a bit of faith in her words. If Jimin or Lia had been in my place, they would have been on a shopping spree for amulets and shamans; their belief in the afterlife was absurdly high.

Before I turned the last card, Seoyun took my hand. She looked me in the eyes seriously and asked:

"Are you sure that you want to know what fate has meant for you, because sometimes it's hard to deal with it?"

"Yes, I do. I'd like to hear it." Isn't that the whole point of a fortune telling?

It's just a deck of cards and some vague words from a pseudo fortune-teller. What could possibly go wrong?

When Miss Kim turned over the last card, her face went pale, and she let the palm of her hand slip out of hers as if it had been burned.

"Go away." sounded like undisguised horror in Seoyun's voice. "Leave immediately. JaYoung, accompany her to the exit, now." She turned away from me, clutching the card in her hand.

I never had a chance to have a look at what was on it.

"What is going on? Why are you kickin' us outta here? What did you see on that card? "In complete disregard for my questions, Miss Kim hurried to the office door, hiding behind the curtains.

Just then, JaYoung and Jimin came out of the other room with a small black box tied with a gold ribbon. It must have been a parcel for Taehyung to take.

"Nabi, are you all right?" Jimin asked me in a worried tone.

No, it wasn't all right; the lady looked at me as if I were one of the bad omens of the biblical coming.

What was it about this card that was able to frighten her to such an extent?

"JaYoung, take her to the exit and close the boutique; we will not be working any more today."

I grabbed the woman's hand before she could turn the doorknob and disappear into the darkness of the room.

"What's the meaning of the last card? Tell me; I'm not going to leave here until you tell me."

"Death is closer to you than you think. It's already on its way to you." Her whole body began to shivered as if it were cold, but the shop was warm. I would say stuffy.

"Who's comin'? What are you talkin' about?" I insisted on it.

Seoyun suddenly turned to me and pushed a crumpled tarot card into my hand. There was There was madness in her dark eyes, and her pupils were so dilated that they were almost the thick green of her iris.

"The Devil."

After that, she practically pushed me to the exit, where I met a worried and confused Jimin. We came out of the boutique, and the door behind us clicked in a characteristic way.

This was not how I had imagined a trip to Paradigm.

"What the hell just happened?"

"You'll believe me when I say I have no idea." Jimin and I looked at each other.

"Next time Taehyung will pick up his stupid packages themselves, I will not go to places like that again. Nabi, I saw someone's canned heart in a jar and bat carcasses. Did you know they have such tiny, sharp teeth? I could swear that I've never seen anything so disgusting in all my life." He said.

"No more occult boutiques, I totally agree with you. Let's go home, I still have to send the paperwork over to Jun."

"I must have something to drink first, and the stronger the better. Let's go to 'Salvatore' and then go home."

I took one last look at the sign, which was now shimmering faintly in the setting sun. I crumpled the card into a small ball and threw it in the rubbish bin next to me.

The Devil, of course. I'm not going to believe the words of this crazy fortune teller. Maybe I should scatter the salt at the entrance, or then he will suddenly knock on my door.

Two hours later, after a big margarita for two and a few glasses of red wine, Jimin took me home, and I was in the same position as before the whole stupid trip to Paradigm.

Sitting on my bed, hypnotised by a dark purple envelope with documents from Yeonjun. There was no point in putting it off any longer.

Instead of pulling a millimeter at a time, I need to learn how to rip off a plaster in one move. Maybe deep down I'm a masochist if I prefer this method, but right now I don't have the time to sort out my hidden sexual desires.

I picked up the envelope; it was surprisingly heavy and pleasantly soft to the touch. The paper had a pleasant odor of powder and velvet, a reminder of the Victorian era in England. Unrequited love letters must have smelled like that.

The envelope was sealed by a wax seal with a monogram cast in an antique shade of gold. When I opened it, the thin wax cracked under my fingers, leaving a glistening particle on them. Inside were a number of documents tied together: a non-disclosure agreement, a handwritten note, and a velour jewellery bag bound with silk ribbons and embroidered with opals and sapphires. I'm sure this little thing was worth twice what I'd been paid in six months, and what lay inside cost much more.

My first choice was a piece of paper. Yeonjun had always written in an incredibly beautiful way - calligraphed, like a fountain pen, with little curls at the end of the letters.

"My lovely Nabi, I look forward to seeing you this Saturday. I am so glad that you have agreed to take me up on my offer. A treasure like you deserves the best in the world, and I'm overjoyed to give it to you. In case you change your mind and decide to back out of your contract with ”Crescent,” I will be the one to pay all of your bills and your tuition fees in the future. We have already discussed this with Jimin. Despite your stubborn refusal to accept any financial help from us, I will do it anyway."

Sometimes I think that all of my friends have a sugar daddy complex; their desperate desire to pay for everything in my life is taken to the extreme. Of course, if you grew up with a "golden spoon" in your mouth, a few thousand dollars, it was absolutely nothing. But for me, it was an exorbitant burden, and yet I wanted to handle it myself.

As dubious as it sounds, I didn't want to say no.

"There's a confidentiality agreement in the envelope, and you need to sign it until tomorrow night. Your session is scheduled for Saturday night. We have to be at ”Crescent” by 23:00, after which Seulgi, the main administrator, will pick up a perfectly compatible client for you to donate blood. Before you meet her, I want to make sure that all the paperwork is in order. There are also two versions of the contract that you should have a look at.”

The ”Crescent” allows donors to choose whether they want to work with them for a year or for one night. Accordingly, there are two types of contracts: annual and one-off.

”I've picked out an outfit for you to wear when we go to ”Crescent”; it'll arrive on Friday with everything you need. You'll look gorgeous, and I'm sure you'll thank me afterwards. Personally, I think you could do with showing a little more of your skin and accentuating the sexy lines of your body. For my taste, you're too modest.”

I squeezed my eyes shut in annoyance. If my buttocks weren't pressed up against the skirt and my breasts weren't protruding, I'd certainly be too modest. The more skin on display, the better. Jun's preference was something I was well aware of. A nice outfit was to be forgotten, and if my underwear was even a little bit covered, I would consider myself lucky. I was sure there would be no thanks on my part.

"The club's owners give all new donors a thank-you gift. It's inside an envelope. Accept it with all sincerity, because you are giving them your life's resources, and this is the least they can do for you. It is also their request that you wear it on your arrival at the “Crescent.”

My dear Nabi, it will be a night you'll never forget. I can assure you of that.

All my love, Yeonjun. "

I was very excited about the prospect of Saturday night. There was a feeling that there was some hidden meaning in the whole situation that I was missing out on. My brain was sending me distress and danger signals, just like Yeonjun. Be careful. The storm is coming.

In any case, sometimes it is better to be at ease and just go with the flow. Like Jimin said, I should be less dramatic.

I signed the NDA contract right away. I'll definitely forget it if I don't do it now. Checking Yeonjun's words against the remaining documents in the envelope, there were two versions of the contract: a one-off and an annual one. I decided to save the gift from the owners of the 'Crescent' for the very end. My first choice was the one-off contract. There were fewer pages, and it was clearer and easier to read.

The first item on the contract was the NDA. There was a long explanation of why it was so important and necessary.

"All "Crescent" clients are people of high social status and position. Their privacy is of the utmost priority to us. Especially with regard to their "special" conditions and specific needs, we want to guarantee our clients complete privacy. Each donor undertakes to sign a confidentiality agreement prior to the first session. Otherwise, the contract between the donor and our client will not be concluded." Guests of the club, hereinafter referred to as "donors," are obliged to keep confidential all the information obtained during personal meetings as well as everything that happens during the blood transfusion, hereinafter referred to as "sessions."

Well, it sounded a bit strange, but I could understand why "Crescent" insisted on signing a contract of this kind. In today's world, it is difficult to keep things secret. And when you are dealing with powerful and wealthy people, it is even more difficult. Paparazzi lurk around every corner, and tabloids are ready to start a scandal with the slightest spark, especially in South Korea.

Who in their right mind would want to survive the criticism, the judgment, and the airing of dirty laundry?

The donor's responsibilities and the client's expectations were the next point in the contract.

In short, you become an exclusive blood donor for one or more clients of the club after signing the contract. This is what Yeonjun told me as well. This form of contract required a single "session."

They didn't give any details, just that the service was linked to a certain type of genetics in their clients and was urgently needed. They did not say how the transfusion process would take place.

"The donor agrees to give their blood and receives financial compensation from the club after a successful procedure. The whole process is strictly controlled by "Crescent" staff. They also act as intermediaries between the donor and the client. Their job is to carry out a compatibility test that will guarantee a better result in the transfusion."

Point three is called "testing for compatibility."

Each donor was tested for compatibility before the "session," and the club administrators—as I learned from Yeonjun's note, my administrator's name is Seulgi—took a blood sample and compared it with the most suitable partner or partners. It was not only the blood that was important, but the members of the club also had a long list of preferences and wishes that the donor had to match. Looks were not the least of these. Height, weight, hair colour, body type, nationality, and age—the list seemed endless. There was even a clause about the type of voice and the food preferences of the donor. Let's just say: "Crescent" customers were very spoiled and had a personal view of the blood donation process. Partner - It sounded a little too intimate to me for this kind of situation, and it clearly had a double meaning.

The most pleasant of all—financial compensation—was point number four.

"For voluntarily donating their life resources, all donors receive financial compensation from "Crescent," ranging from $1,000 to $3,000. The amount paid varies according to the amount of blood donated and the status of the client with whom the donor was matched".

It was a fabulous amount of money. It was a very quick income, but it wasn't that easy. I felt it in my gut. The work was flawless; there was just no such thing.

I've reached the last point in the contract - the completion of the agreement.

Here are the details of the beginning and end of the 'session', how the money was paid, how the donors returned home, and other details. The start of each 'session' was exactly midnight, but the donor had to be at the club two hours before for preparation. The 'session' ended at 8am the next day. In general, the whole process took up to eight hours. The transfusion took place in private rooms, the doors of which were locked from the beginning to the end of the "session." Inside the rooms, there was a "panic button" in case of unforeseen situations.

The transfusion process itself is only revealed on arrival at the "Crescent," as the paragraph indicates: "is not standard." The donors were taken home by the club staff at the end of the "session." If there was a request from the client for the donor to be taken home in person, there was no objection to this.

And that's all. The one-off contract was over. A few thousand dollars have been added to your bank account.

I won't lie, it sounded fabulous. But there was a lot that made me feel confused and want to know.

Some of the clauses in the contract left me scratching my head with their veiled meaning and ambiguous choice of words.

So I moved on to the second version of the contract - the one for the year.With lots of footnotes and sub-paragraphs, it was twice as long.

It had the same beginnings: the NDA agreement, the donation, and the compatibility test, but then everything changed dramatically.

Gone was the faceless "client." In its place came the "patron." Now it sounded as if there was a contract between the patron and the donor. In addition to this new word, there were also new points to be included in the contract.

Medical care, diet, sports with a private trainer, spa treatments, and even specific items such as painting, dancing, and music lessons. From the signing of the annual contract, which included renting accommodation, paying bills and school fees, giving gifts, traveling, and so on, the patrons were fully responsible for the welfare and comfort of their exclusive donor.

They promised to keep the donor happy and satisfied and to see to whatever needed to get done. It was now that the ambiguity of the word 'partner' began to make sense to me. In this contract, it was clearly stated that the business relationship could continue between the sheets.

"The sexual or romantic relationship between the donor and the patron is their personal affair and is welcome if both parties are interested in and attracted to each other. All intimate details, including details of the sexual act, remain strictly confidential between donor and client. A list of the sexual practices as well as the permissible kinks will be discussed in advance. The donor is entitled to determine the acceptable boundaries of sexual contact, its intensity, and the degree of emotional "subspace" involved. A stop word is chosen in advance, or the clients can always use the color system: green - yellow - red.

Donors have the right to appeal to the management of the club if, at any time, their rights have been violated and they have been subjected to emotional, physical, or sexual coercion. The owners of "Crescent" have an obligation to provide the donor with a safe place and appropriate specialists for the assessment of the donor's condition. The contract is suspended. Further details are awaited. The issue can be resolved peacefully. In the worst case, the contract will be terminated immediately, and the donor will be compensated for a period of five years." That was certainly not my expectation. I will have to ask Yeonjun if he has any knowledge of such cases, if they have happened, or if anyone has ever had an early termination of a contract.

In addition, it was stated that such a relationship was not obligatory and that if the donor did not want to have sexual relations with the patron, he could refuse, and the patron would have no insistence.

But I don't think many donors would refuse, considering that even Jimin, who is dating an absolutely perfect and insanely attractive man named Taehyung, talked about the beauty of “Crescent's“ clients. It's a very tempting offer, even though it sounds like a twisted version of sugar daddy with a bloody kink.

There have also been some changes to the point about the financial compensation. It is now a compulsory monthly allowance. Depending on the status of the patron, it could range from $30,000 to $90,000 a year. The more he or she could afford to pay, the higher the amount of the benefit. The money was divided into equal parts. It was paid over the duration of the contract. Always on the first Monday of the month.

I can't imagine that anyone would be willing to pay that kind of money for your blood. Obviously, for the members of the “Crescent“, this was an acute question, as the amount in the contract had several zeros.

One of the most important points in the contract was the exclusivity clause.

This was unacceptable for an annual contract, unlike a one-off contract, which allowed the donor to contract with different clients each time. To put it bluntly: Your blood belonged to the sponsor. In this respect, there were so many requirements and so many details written down that were important to the patron. In addition, the one-year contract was only available to donors who had knowledge of the club's clients or staff. Yeonjun was one of them. So I received two versions of the contract instead of one.

At the end, there was the same information about the terms and conditions of the 'meeting' and a few paragraphs about the expiry of the one-year contract.

Having read the contracts, I felt like we were in a strange combined version of 50 Shades of Gray and True Blood.

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back on the pillows, putting the papers to one side, and pressed my cheek against the fluffy, soft toy. It felt good against my skin, the soft purple velour. It was a weird variation on 'Princess of the Bumpy Space' from 'Adventure Time'. Minho had given it to me after another drunken debacle. How he came into possession of this toy is still a complete mystery to all of us.

I had a couple of thoughts about my options. On the one hand, I could make a one-off deal with them and then forget about what had happened the next morning. The amount they offered to compensate me would have been enough to make me feel good for a while, but certainly not enough to pay off all the debts and put some aside just in case.

On the other hand, there was a contract for one year with regular payments and various bonuses, but this also involved a mysterious and demanding patron. One year, and I can say goodbye to all the debts I owe. There was also the chance, without a boring, monotonous job in a bookshop, a tiny room in a student dormitory, or a permanent pit of debt, to see the world, enjoy art, and simply live and be happy.

All this was offered to me on a silver platter. But somehow I thought it was a deal with the devil rather than a blessing from an angel.

In that tempting sentence, there was too much 'but'.

All my thoughts had me on the verge of tears and screams at the same time.

I looked around my little room: dim, mousy grey painted walls; scattered notes and piles of textbooks on the table; picture frames; toys; piles of crumpled blankets on the floor; and a black Balmain velvet jacket that once belonged to Minho, but which he is absolutely certain makes me look better than him. In addition to my things, there were a few of Lia's dresses and Yeonjun's leather jacket, which he left me after one of our many meetings, in my wardrobe, which was tiny by Jimin and Minho's standards. The contrast between their clothes and mine was unbelievable - brand labels, monograms, and distinctive prints - all screaming about their high cost and inaccessibility. I could never have that kind of money, but I had the desire. I really wanted to have it.

This sense of accessibility was something I was curious about.

There was a thick twilight beyond the window. A scattering of purple light poured into the room, turning the whole room a mystical shade of purple. As it danced along the walls, the colour dripped down to the floor, making it look like dark purple water. You could see the first stars begin to appear in the rapidly darkening sky, their broken light sparking off a sapphire embroidered ribbon on a small jewellery bag. I had completely forgotten all about this so-called gift. The cobalt blue sapphires mirrored each other and looked like the eyes of a big cat. That's how I'd always imagined the eyes of a predator - shining in that mystical blue. I took the pouch in my hand and shook it lightly in an attempt to determine what was inside, but the contents did not make a sound.

The silk ribbon came undone with ease. I stared at the contents of the bag with unblinking eyes. Inside was a delicate ornament made of white gold. Thin lines were woven into a star shape. It was inlaid with sapphires and diamonds. It was mesmerizing to look at. Whoever made this necklace obviously put a great deal of love into it. The shape of the ornament itself was not standard; it was more like a guide star in the center of the compass.

I was reminded of what Miss Kim had said to me today as my fingers gently traced the pattern of the necklace.

"Follow the stars, and they will show you the way. A star is a bright omen."

Could it just be a coincidence that the piece of jewelry I was holding in my hand was nothing less than a guiding star?

Either way, I'll definitely be wearing it Saturday—not just because the owners asked me to, but because it is my wish. Perhaps this star will indeed show me the way, but one thing I was sure of was that it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I'd ever seen.

I thought I'd put the jewelry back in my bag and do some paperwork for Yeonjun. I've had enough mystical prophecies and rich patrons for one day, so I've left the contract selection for Saturday. I'm going to spend the evening resting and relaxing. I'll have a long, hot bath with butter and pink salt, which Jiminy brought me from Paris. I will read a book or listen to a meditation course and call upon my inner "I" to harmonise.

Meditation and soul-searching have become very popular with Lia lately. As a result, I have a whole bookshelf in my room that is dedicated to books of this kind and various CDs with meditation and breathing exercises. Last month, she even gave me a decorative fountain, which was supposed to be calming and relaxing but in fact made me feel more nervous and annoyed than soothed. I looked at the jewelry bag containing the necklace again after gathering all the documents.

"The star will show the way..."

And it's only now that I realise that I've never said my name, Miss Kim, and I don't know how she came to know it.

"You're a beautiful girl, Nabi."

For a moment, I thought that maybe her words weren't made up or lying, but rather a warning, but it was only for a second.

I decided not to give it much thought, shaking my head as if to drive the thought away. If it were a sign of my destiny, it'd be my meeting with her on Saturday. I looked out the window again. As if mocking me, the crescent moon shone brightly through the thick midnight clouds. One thing I was absolutely sure of: a visit to 'Сrescent' would change my life forever.

[angelbowerz]

your only girl at welton fic is such a guilty pleasure for me lmao. if you ever wrote more for it i would forever be thankful lol, esp if it had mr keating taking them under his wing or smthn haha

Of course! I'd love to do more, if you have any other suggestions I'd be more than happy to do it!

Keating taking you under his wing♡

Movie-dead poets society

Summary-continuing on from 'being the only girl at Welton'

-he obviously knew about your arrival before the students, the second Mr Nolan told him, he knew he'd become your 'school father'

-since you had no classes on your first day, you first got introduced to him when he came into the common room

-he pulled you aside and basically said about how he's excited to meet you in class, and that you could always go to him for things (since all the other teachers look on the brink of death lmao)

-when you enterd his class the next day, he placed you next to todd (awhhh his two fake children🫂)

-After class he pulled you aside to check in on you, also telling you where his bedroom is when you need him after lessons

-at lunch or when you're passing him through the halls, he'll give you one of those encouraging dad smiles

-he'll give you a nickname like 'Dear miss l/n'

-now since Mr Nolan gave the rule of NO dating,if you do get a boyfriend, keating would be so happy for you, basically the opposite of Nolan

-okay...being at an all boys school would be hard being the only girl, especially at that time of the month so who do you go to? Your school dad of course

-if you ever run out of products after free time is over, you just go to Mr Keating's room where he has a box of things for you

-On some weekends, he would take you and Todd out into the town and will sometimes buy you two gifts (only if you keep it a secret)

-lets say your parents couldn't make the open day thing, you was obviously very sad...but who was there to pretend to be your father? KEATING OF COURSE! Also with Todd (cute lil family🤗)

-on the last day of school before the Christmas period, he would give you the cutest lil present (proud dad)

-when you graduate, you'll miss him SO MUCH (in my world keating didn't get fired and Neil is still alive SHHHH)

-you both would write to eachother once you leave Welton and would stay in contact until Mr Keating passes or something happens

[deanssluvr]

thought you were made for me

part 2 | part 3

pairing: brother’s bsf!Joost Klein x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is my first fic so please be nice. I didn’t really expect to write more than 500 words lmao. Also, this isn’t proofread sorry. I plan on writing a part 2 for this.

It had already been a long and tough week. With just finishing the last of your final exams the week prior. Each exam felt like it took years off of your life. And the week itself felt as though it would never end. Not even mentioning the multiple all-nighters you pulled to study before. But when it was finally over you were beyond ecstatic. And now you got to finally be at home and relax.

It was relatively quiet morning. You had decided to stay in the comfort of your blanket for a while longer before deciding to head down to the kitchen. There you were greeted by your brother Ethan and his best friend Joost. They were making breakfast. Well, it was just your brother cooking and Joost waiting patiently. Ever since Joost finished touring, he’d been spending a lot of time at your house. Spending multiple nights in your guest room. Your parents never really minded because he was nice and respectful. Usually, they’re in your brother’s room playing video games or out doing something. You never really got the chance to see him a lot since you were off to college. But you were hoping that would change now that you were home.

“Good morning.” Joost smiled softly. Ethan turned away from the stove briefly to tell you good morning and offered you breakfast. You nodded and turned back Joost. He was sipping a cup coffee and the steam was slightly fogging up his glasses. He took them off and set them on the counter beside him.

“Good morning Joost.” You returned the smile. He moved next to you from where he was standing. 

“And how are you this morning?” he asked in a low tone. His voice was still laced with sleep.

“I’m good. Just glad to be back home. How are you this morning.” You looked up at him and through tired eyes.

“Better now,” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. It caught you off guard. Was he flirting with you? Before you can finish that thought your brother hands you both a plate of food. You thanked him and they walk out of the kitchen to the dining room. Leaving you to your thoughts.

—

Later on that day, you called your best friends. They discussed with you their plans with their newfound freedom. You were shocked at their ideas. Party here and bar hop there. You thought they were just as exhausted as you. The idea of getting wasted as a celebration wasn’t your favorite idea. You just wanted to catch up on sleep.

“But we’ve been doing nothing but staying in our dorms for finals. We NEED to go out,” she stated.

“I know. I know. But maybe we could do something a bit more laid back. Like the movies or that festival that’s in town.” I practically pleaded with them. But it was no use. They weren’t changing their minds, and I was outvoted two to one. The conversation shifted back to their ideas for celebration for the next few days.

After agreeing to meet up this weekend, you said your goodbyes to your friends and hung up the phone. But quickly after your brother texts you.

hey Joost has a concert tonight. i have an extra ticket. wanna go with me?

You thought about it for a good moment. You just wanted to get some extra sleep tonight, but on the other hand, you haven’t spent much time with your brother since you left for college. And now is a better time than ever to make up for lost time. Also, you just wanted another excuse to see Joost.

ofc sounds like fun

it’s tonight at 8. i’ll pick you up at 7

You texted him “okay” before setting your phone back down, and finished making yourself lunch.

—

As leaned over the sink, you checked your makeup one last time in the mirror. You used your nail to fix your lipstick. You stepped back to look over your overall outfit and decided you were happy with the outcome. You sprayed a bit of your favorite perfume on yourself. Checking the time you realized you were ready a bit early, so you sat in your living room. You started scrolling through Instagram as you waited. Then a notification popped up in your phone.

hey i’m outside.

You quickly checked your appearance once last time in a nearby mirror and checked your purse to make sure you had everything. When you felt satisfied with everything you grabbed your keys and left the house.

The ride to the venue was relatively smooth. You talked about what you’d miss in each other’s lives. He explained to you how he just found a new job as a bartender at a new bar downtown. He also told you how he was saving up for a new place. You told him that you were really happy for him. When he asked about you, you told him about how you just finished up finals week and now you finally have time off. He gave you a small chuckle and congratulated you.

—

The outdoor venue was packed that night and people were trying to rush to the front. You’re glad your brother was there as he kept a secure grip on you and was able to push you both to the barricades near the stage. It was extremely humid that night with a faint smell of weed and cigarette smoke clogging the air.

The lights dimmed slightly and you heard a beat starting to play over the speakers. You could feel the anticipation from the crowd and it made you even more excited as you leaned forward on the barricade. Then Joost ran on stage. Blue flashing lights engulfed him as he started performing and the crowd, including yourself, began jumping to the beat.

Once the energy died down slightly, you were able to take him in. His outfit was really simple tonight. He was in a white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up giving us a glimpse at the tattoos that littered his arms, a pair of baggy jeans, and his black thick-rimmed glasses that were fogging up every so often. Something was enticing about him and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

You had never heard his music before, but that didn’t stop you from letting loose. Everyone around you on the other hand, including your brother, is yelling the lyrics word for word. Joost takes notice of this and walks further downstage towards your brother, acknowledging him and smiling. Now you were able to get a good look at his face. He is even prettier up close you thought to yourself. Then he looks over to you, holding eye contact for just a split second before giving you a wink and continuing his performance. You were in utter disbelief at the encounter. You honestly thought you had imagined it. You were pulled back to reality when the loud beat of the next song started pouring into your ears.

—

“Did you enjoy the concert?” your brother asked as you both walked to his car. You were still feeling the buzz of the concert. It felt like the night shouldn’t end here. Maybe because you wanted to see Joost again.

“Yes, I did! His music is so good. I had an amazing time.” You left out the part about him winking at you, but you felt that you should keep that bit of information to yourself.

“Well, I’m glad that you had a good time.” His phone chimed with a notification. As he checked it you decided to check your phone. Your friends were blowing up your phone about the concert. They loved Joost so they wanted to know how it went. As you texted them back, your brother spoke.

“Hey, Joost is having a little after-party at a club nearby. He’s asking if the both of us wanted to go.“ You considered it for a moment. You did want to see him again. But when you did what would you say? Maybe he does this to all of his fans. Your brother senses your indecisiveness and tries to help.

“You don’t have to go. I would understand. I mean you’re not close to him. I just asked because he said he wanted to see you.” You were surprised at his request.

“No. I want to. I would love to go.” You stated as you gave him a reassuring smile. He nodded as he started the car towards the new destination.

— 

Your eyes scan over the scene. A DJ was blasting music over the speakers, but it was more near the dance floor. The place was dim with small, warm lights keeping tables and the lit. You follow your brother as he leads you to a table that seats a few guys. When you got close enough you realized it was Joost and who you assumed were a few of his friends. He loudly acknowledged your brother as they shared an embrace. They share a few words before he sees you.

“Hey. I’m glad you came.” he hugged you and you embraced him back. He smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, but it didn’t bother you. You liked it. You both lingered for what was probably a moment too long before he let go. You looked over to your brother and saw that he went to talk to the other guys at the table. Leaving you with Joost. 

His eyes slowly scanned over you as he took in your appearance. Once his eyes reached yours, you noticed a different look in his eyes. Almost like hunger. Being under his gaze almost made you feel nervous.

“Come sit with me and let me pour you a drink.” He didn’t give you much of a choice as he grabbed your wrist lightly, his fingers brushing against your palm. He guided you to sit with him in the booth. He pulled you close enough to the point that your thighs were touching. You liked around and realized it was just the two. You scan the place and see your brother and his other friends have run off to the bar. Probably to do shots you thought to yourself. 

You focused your attention back to Joost who was carefully pouring you both a drink. Though it was hard to see, a small dim light slightly lit up his face allowing you to still see his face. His hair was even messier than it was at the concert but he still looked amazing. You notice his strikingly delicate features and his captivating eyes that seem to sparkle under the light. Your eyes then trace down his arms and you take note of the tattoos that are there.

“Here.” He pulls you out of your trance by handing you a glass with brown liquor in it. You take the glass from him, your finger faintly brushing his. You didn’t drink much and when you did it was mainly vodka. Nonetheless, you drank it anyway. He watched as you took a sip and smiled when you seemed to enjoy it. He drank some of his own before turning to you.

“Did you enjoy tonight’s show?” He leaned in closer making sure you heard his question. 

“Yes, I did. Your music is really good. I wish I had discovered your music sooner.” Even with how dark it is you notice the smile he gave you.

“I'm happy you had a good time. You know I know we don’t know each other that well, but I would love for us to get closer.” Once again he leaned in, but this time it was in your ear. His warm breath against your ear sent goosebumps across your skin. As he leaned back to look at you, he stopped just inches away from your face. You can faintly feel his breath against your lips. You swear can see his eyes glance at your lips for a second before looking back into your eyes. His expression changed again into what you saw when he first greeted you. Hunger. His eyes were focused on yours and it made you nervous. The air suddenly changed. It felt more thicker and warmer.

“Let’s go dance.” He offered his hand as he slid out of the booth. You smiled and took his hand. He guided you to the crowd on the dance floor and pushed you both near the center. There was a dark blue light that engulfed everyone. The beat took over you as you started dancing. You let your hips away to the rhythm. You felt Joost’s hands find their way to your waist, and he pulled you closer to him. 

You continue to dance against him, grinding on him. His hands started to explore your body as they found themselves on your hips, and then slowly went down to the hem of your short skirt. His fingers found their way under and he started to rub the soft skin. His head found its way closer to the crook of your neck. You feel his warm breath on your collarbone as he speaks.

“Ik heb je nodig (I need you)” He breathes into your neck and it sends shivers down your spine. With the light grip he has on you, he turns around so now you’re facing him. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. Your faces are inches away from each other. The air around you is hot and thick. You look into his eyes and see the same familiar look as before. Even under the lights, you can see his pupils blown with lust. 

You don’t know if it was the alcohol but you felt bold. So you pulled him into a kiss which he happily accepted. His hands moved from the hem of your skirt up to the curve of your ass where he squeezed lightly. The kiss became more intense as you both realized how hungry you were. Your hands found their way to his hair and you pulled gently at the white locks. He pulled away only to say something.

“We should take this somewhere else.” He suggested between pants. You nod quickly. He takes your hand and guides you off the dance floor. Your head was buzzing and you felt as though you were caught in a haze. He leads you back to the table and you see your brother and some of his friends there with a few girls. Joost let go of your hand only for a moment when telling your brother that you were both leaving early. He told him you weren’t feeling good. Surprisingly he wasn’t suspicious of anything and only told you both to drive safe. With that, you and Joost make your way to his car. You both get settled in before he looks over at you.

“My place or yours liefje (sweetheart)”