#i was originally planning a full body with the stand but then i started the front bust and uh

[coqhee]

ETA TO YOUR HEART 𓂃 박성훈

✷ in a fast-paced city, your laid-back life as a receptionist takes a turn when you meet sunghoon, a busy photographer always on the go, making him question whether to keep chasing success or take a chance on love.

photographer sunghoon︲fem reader ︲fluff, angst (sorta), strangers to lovers, city romance, opposites attract, colleague! reader, okokok + lalala dynamic, slow burn, he falls first and harder︲pet names, cursing, grammar errors︲15k / more

2ND EMAIL IN TO: YOUR HEART COLLECTION

─── ♡

you would think PARK SUNGHOON, a world-renowned photographer for his works of the beauty of cityscapes at night, would have an artistic view of life. to slow down a view of life for its beauty—one that encourages slowing down to appreciate beauty. quite the opposite for him though.

one day to another, he’s analyzed what gets people’s emotions going and what photos may move them. as long as he can write the meaning behind his photos well, it’s bound to be successful.

what began as a heartfelt hobby has turned into a rigid 9-to-5 routine, stripping away the passion that once fueled his work.

finally, he’s back in his hometown… for work. what is supposed to only be a year-long contract for his new exhibit in partnership with your gallery, turns out to be an even longer contract to your heart.

when sunghoon sees you, theres no sparks, there's no ‘love at first sight’. it’s just two people meeting for the first time, who happen to be falling in love in their own –patient and impatient– ways.

as you interact, you begin to uncover layers within one another. neither of you is fully aware of the heartstrings being intertwined, but the potential for connection is there.

it’s a subtle dance of discovery. both patient and hesitant, you navigate your feelings, each step bringing you closer to an unexpected bond.

sunghoon’s cold exterior slowly starts to thaw. as you share laughter and stories, he begins to show glimpses of warmth.

you realize that maybe he isn’t as unreachable as you once thought. with every interaction, a bond forms, slowly but surely, leading to unexpected possibilities.

─── ♡

sunghoon was exhausted beyond belief. rightfully so–he’s spent the last 6 months in 9 different countries capturing the mesmerizing beauty of cities. the view in each city displaying diverse vibrancy of their cultures through their architecture.

from tokyo, to new york city, istanbul to new delhi…the views were undeniable of their beauty.

while the photos were stunning, the toll on him was undeniable

going city to city at a rate that felt like a blur, he barely even had time to realize that he was thrown into a year-long contract in his hometown. it had only dawned on him at the airport after he had boarded the plane.

whilst his plan originally was to sleep, it seemed it wasn’t an option with his agent texting him not long after.

soobin: to answer your question earlier, yes, you must stay for the full year as per the contract. i thought this exhibition would be fitting for you as it’s your hometown. your works haven’t felt the same and the company thought this would be good for inspiration. [attatchment: 1 image] read 7:41 am

sunghoon sighed, a wave of relief washing over him as he stared at the message. a full year in one place—his hometown, no less. the idea of staying still for a while felt strange, almost foreign, after the constant whirlwind of travel.

his body craved rest, but his mind was still wired, thinking about deadlines, compositions, and the weight of the upcoming exhibit.

landing back home felt strange. the city hadn’t changed much, but it felt different to him now. maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the weight of knowing he couldn’t just hop on the next flight out like he had for the past six months.

it wasn’t that he hated constantly being on the move—he actually thrived in the fast pace, always craving something new and exciting in his life. but this? he was worn out.

so that’s how he came to be standing in front of the new gallery back home having no time to stop home before.

it should’ve felt comfortable, and inviting, but it felt like a whole different world from the building that had stood there before when he was growing up.

“hi! how can i help you?” your voice welcome cutting through the loud air conditioning that had let him space out.

“hi, i think i’m supposed to be the new photographer working with the gallery. my agent, soobin, should have sent over the documents, including the contract,” he said, his tone clipped and distant. you noticed the lack of warmth in his voice—it wasn’t rude, but it was reserved, almost detached. still, you brushed it off with a welcoming smile.

“right, yes. your liaison reached out to me about that,” you replied, keeping your voice light. “me and the time were so excited to meet you! lets go meet them?” you motioned for him to follow holding a bright smile, noting his subtle nod in response, and guided him down the hallway to the meeting room where the team was waiting to welcome their new photographer for the year.

sunghoon followed you down the hallway, his eyes flicking around the gallery as they walked. the space was calm, filled with soft echoes of quiet conversation and the faint scent of coffee, and he could almost feel himself unwind in the stillness.

your presence caught his attention again as they led him, weaving through the gallery with a practiced ease. there was something about their calmness and patience that felt oddly magnetic, not even in a romantic way.

for someone who thrived on the thrill of chaos and constant change, seeing someone so comfortable in this kind of tranquility was almost… foreign.

you opened the door to a small room with a meeting table and some chairs surrounding it with people already occupying some.

“here we have jay, who’s going to be your liaison for this project,” you smiled, gesturing to the man who offered a friendly, albeit reserved, smile—warmer than sunghoon’s, at least.

“jake, who’s going to be your assistant, mostly,” you continued, nodding toward the cheerful face beside jay, “so anything you need, just let him know.”

“and lastly, we have minjeong, sunoo, and me, who are going to be your general support team,” you finished, flashing a warm smile. “us 3 directly work with the gallery as our job so we’ll know the most, and we’ll just help with logistics, planning, and anything else you might need,”

sunghoon nodded, taking in each face as he quickly assessed the group. they seemed friendly enough, and even though he was already feeling the weight of this project, the team’s easy-going energy made him feel just a little more at ease.

of course, he couldn’t let down his professional barrier despite the comfortable informal energy in the room.

sunghoon nodded slowly, taking in each face as he mentally sized up the team. it was a lot to remember, but he figured he’d get the hang of it soon enough. his eyes flicked back to you as you continued.

“we’re all really excited to see what you bring to the gallery,” you added, looking around at the others, who nodded in agreement.

jay, added in with a friendly grin. “yeah, we’re here to make your life easier, not harder. whatever you need, we’ve got you.”

jake chimed in, giving sunghoon a nod. “yep, seriously—no request is too small, so don’t be shy about letting us know, even if it’s outside of work bounds,” he winked.

minjeong laughed and nudged him. “okay, but let’s not get carried away—we’re not that generous!” she teased, earning a light slap on the shoulder from sunoo.

“fine, fine,” she relented with a grin, “you can tell us anything. within reason!”

“thank you. i appreciate it,” he finally spoke up still processing the overload of information.

“well, i think we can wrap this up here, i’m sure you’re tired so let’s talk more tomorrow and get some inspiration going, i’ll just get y/n to send me your number later,” jay smiled taking notice of everyone’s mood and how despite how chipper everyone sounded, they were tired.

everyone nodded in agreement, grabbing their bags and leaving the room one by one until it was just you and sunghoon. you both looked around feeling the awkward tension in the air.

“let us know if you need anything at all,” you said with a smile, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before turning to leave.

“um.. i don’t think i have your number,” sunghoon called out, his voice barely above a murmur as he looked down, almost like he was second-guessing whether to speak up.

“oh shoot i completely forgot, here,” you said with a laugh, reaching into your bag. pulling out your phone, you opened your contacts and handed it to him. “just go ahead and put your number in, and i’ll text you so you have mine, too.” he nodded in response and quickly gave back your phone and watched as you turned to leave the room again.

“uh, y/n… wait,” he spoke out once again.

you paused, glancing back over your shoulder and then stepping back into the room, catching his eye. “yeah?” you asked gently, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind.

sunghoon shifted, his fingers brushing the edge of his bag as he searched for the right words. “thank you… for being so welcoming,” he said, his tone quiet but sincere.

your face softened, and you nodded with a warm smile. “of course. it’s good to have you here, sunghoon,” you replied. “i’ll be around if you need anything, okay?”

he nodded, watching as you disappeared down the hall, the warmth of your kindness lingering with him as he stood there, feeling just a bit more at ease in this unfamiliar place.

he went home that night feeling a sense of completion despite it being a small task, the drive home taking in the cold air from the night.

─── ♡

back at your apartment, you tossed your bag onto the couch, replaying the day’s events in your mind. you couldn’t shake the thought of sunghoon’s demeanor—so distant, almost icy. you’d met your fair share of artists, some a little standoffish, but something about him felt different. did he hate every second of being there? or worse, was it something about you? had you come off too friendly? too casual?

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “no, it couldn’t be,” you muttered to yourself. it had just been introductions. still, the questions lingered in your mind, stubbornly refusing to quiet.

as much as you hated overthinking, it was a habit that came back all too easily. you’d tried to be warm, welcoming, like always. maybe he was just tired from his travels—jet-lagged, exhausted. yeah, that was probably it, you reassured yourself, though part of you didn’t fully believe it.

the next morning, you walked into the gallery, coffee in hand, ready to start the day. as you set up at the front desk, your eyes wandered toward the hallway leading to the studio space, where sunghoon would likely be working today. you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d look as tired as he did yesterday or if he might be a little more at ease now that he’d had a night to settle in.

“morning!” a cheerful voice snapped you out of your thoughts. you looked up to see jake, grinning as he dropped his bag by the desk. “guess who spent the morning looking for the memory card he left in his jacket pocket?”

you laughed, grateful for the distraction. “classic. was it at least the last jacket you checked?”

he groaned, shaking his head. “third jacket. honestly, it’s like i’m living in a game of hide-and-seek with my equipment.”

before you could respond, the sound of footsteps drew your attention down the hallway. there was sunghoon, camera bag slung over his shoulder, his expression unreadable as he scanned the room. when his eyes met yours, he gave a brief nod—still as reserved as ever.

“good morning, sunghoon,” you called, offering a warm smile.

“morning,” he replied, his tone polite but distant, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like you were back at square one. but before the familiar spiral of overthinking could start, jay’s voice broke through.

“alrighty i was thinking instead of starting with photos today, we should just do some team bonding,” said jay.

jay said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

you glanced over, amused. “team bonding? i don’t think that was in the contract,” you teased.

jay laughed. “hey, we’re a team for a whole year—might as well get to know each other, right? besides, it’s the best way to break the ice.” he looked pointedly at sunghoon. “especially with some of us who like to keep things, let’s say… professional.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure where this was going. “uh… what exactly did you have in mind?” he asked, cautious but curious.

“don’t worry,” jay said with a reassuring grin. “just a coffee run to start, and then we’ll hang out in the lounge. maybe play some card games or something. nothing intense. just a chance to relax and actually talk to each other as people, not just job titles.”

jake chimed in, looking thrilled. “i’m in! plus, we get to introduce sunghoon to the best coffee in town.”

“come on, sunghoon,” you said, feeling a bit braver now, “just think of it as a warm-up to the year.”

sunghoon hesitated, but he finally gave a small nod. “alright,” he said, a faint smile breaking through. “i’ll give it a shot.”

minjeong pumped her fist in victory, high-fiving sunoo in the process. “that’s what i’m talking about!”

as you all headed out together, you couldn’t help but feel hopeful. maybe, just maybe, this was a step closer to breaking through that cold exterior.

the six of you walked closer to the coffee shop, with lively chatter with sunghoon making little to no contributions to the conversation unless he was called out by name.

honestly, you weren’t sure if he was rude, nervous, tired, or what. it took you by surprise.

meanwhile, sunghoon was quietly taking in the easy camaraderie around him. he wasn’t used to work environments that felt… well, less like work.

it’s not that he hated it either, it was just, different. in a good way, at least for him.

“y/n, sunghoon, why don’t you go get us a table we’ll order for you guys,” sunoo chirped out pulling open the door to the cafe.

“sure thing! just get me the mocha cream latte, hoon, you want anything?” you asked, flashing him a friendly smile.

pause. hoon?

the nickname had slipped out before you even realized it—something you’d been calling him in your head but hadn’t planned to say aloud. you felt a wave of embarrassment, surprised at yourself, while he looked almost unfazed.

“uh, just an americano, thanks,” sunghoon replied, his tone curt but polite, as if the nickname hadn’t thrown him off in the slightest.

sunoo smiled giving a thumbs up, as he continued chatting with the rest of the team, while you and sunghoon went to find an open table.

“sorry if the nickname made you uncomfortable, i won’t call you it if you don’t want me to,” you apologized meekly.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his expression softening just a bit. “it’s fine,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “i don’t mind it,”

the unexpected response took you by surprise, and you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a little more at ease. for a moment, his guarded demeanor seemed to fade, replaced by something almost approachable.

“good,” you said, relaxing as you leaned back. “because i didn’t even realize i’d been calling you that in my head until it slipped out.”

shit.

stop talking.

stop saying that you were thinking about him outside of work you freak.

stop word vomiting.

sunghoon chuckled lightly, and for the first time, it felt like a small barrier between you had started to lift, unfazed by you mentioning that you were thinking about him to even have a nickname.

“so, any ideas for the gallery and what you’re going to try to capture this time? i’ve looked at some of your works from your portfolio and it’s an extensive list of cities,”

sunghoon looked up, his gaze softening thoughtfully. “honestly, i’m still working it out,” he admitted, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the table. “i’ve spent so long capturing cityscapes, architecture, the whole atmosphere of a place. but now… i’m starting to wonder if it’s lost its meaning somehow. people say my work feels distant.”

his words surprised you; they were thoughtful, a bit vulnerable even. “so, a new chapter then huh,” you said with a small nod, understanding his new direction. “sounds like a big shift.”

“yeah,” he agreed, the faintest hint of a smile appearing. “new territory. and it feels… strange, honestly,”

there was a quiet pause as you took in his words. “well, if you ever need a guide to get the real feel of the city, or even a coffee break buddy, i’m just at the front desk,” you offered, smiling.

sunghoon met your gaze, and his expression softened for the first time. “thank you,”.

you watched as sunghoon pulled out a paper calendar and quickly scribbled something on the todo list side of it looking satisfied at yourself.

“drinks are here!” minjeong cheered, balancing three cups as she handed you and sunghoon your orders.

“thank you,” you smiled, reaching up to grab the cup from her hands and taking a sip. the hot liquid gold instantly warming your soul with the familiar taste.

“alright, so here’s the idea,” jake said, leaning forward. “jay and i thought we’d visit some of the classic spots around the city to get things going for the first few months, see if anything sparks that inspiration. what do you guys think?” you nodded as he looked around the table, looking for approval.

everyone else nodded, i mean it’s not like anyone else had other plans to get this project kick-started.

sunghoon looked taken aback, not even in an offensive way. “oh, i thought we were going to get to shooting test photos, and get the photos for this gallery done fast,”

“oh cmon, let’s get a good feel for the city, get some quality inspiration,” minjeong piped up. which sunghoon nodded reluctantly.

“great, we’ll start with the arcade today and then work from there,” jay concluded sipping his drink. sunoo looked the most delighted out of everyone there, the arcade being one of his favorite places.

sunghoon, who had been mostly quiet, raised an eyebrow. “an arcade?”

“yep,” sunoo chimed in, practically buzzing. “trust me, it’s the perfect mix of chaos and color. it might actually surprise you. plus, who doesn’t like a little fun between all the serious stuff?”

sunghoon thought for a moment, his expression softening with a glimmer of interest. “alright,” he said finally, “guess it wouldn’t hurt to see what all the fuss is about.”

as everyone finished up their drinks, the energy in the group seemed to pick up, each person eager to shake off the weight of routine and get a fresh start together.

jay cracked a joke, prompting laughs, while jake started a mini debate with sunoo over the best arcade games.

you glanced at sunghoon, who was watching the easy camaraderie with a relaxed expression. he didn’t say much, but you noticed the way he took everything in, like he was warming up to the idea of this more laid-back team dynamic.

with the drinks finished and everyone’s spirits high, you all filed out of the café, ready to kick off the day’s adventure.

as you walked alongside him, you caught sunghoon glancing at you with a faint smile, and for the first time, you felt the start of something different—something unspoken but promising.

─── ♡

“okay, which game first?” sunoo wondered, his eyes wide as he took in the room full of flashing lights and the hum of arcade sounds.

“wait—where did jake and jay go?” minjeong asked, whipping her head around, scanning the noise filled room.

“i think they went to go play some racing game,” you commented recalling watching the two run off like children despite. minjeong rolled her eyes in disappointment and groaned.

“typical,” minjeong muttered, crossing her arms. “leave it to them to ditch us at the first sight of a car game.”

“well, we don’t need them! let’s go play this fishing game,” sunoo exclaimed already making his way over to the machine. the three of you followed sunoo over as he excitedly swiped his card in both spots and patted the seat next to him.

you reluctantly sat down and enjoyed the game with him switching off with minjeong halfway through.

you were getting thirsty however and went to the food court to see whatever drinks they had and maybe some snacks along the way. sunoo seemed excited to continue playing though to which you encouraged, telling him you’d be back shortly.

as you were walking away, you noticed sunghoon following you awkwardly shifting step step.

“didn’t want to play any games?” you asked.

“uh, no not really,” he responded

you nodded, offering him a small smile. "well, maybe you just haven’t found the right game," you teased lightly, hoping to ease some of his quietness.

he chuckled faintly, looking down. "i think i’m more of an observer in places like this. it’s very…lively," he admitted, glancing around at the buzz of the arcade.

you reached the food court, scanning the menu of drinks. "anything catch your eye? i’m thinking maybe a soda… or a lemon slushie if i’m feeling adventurous," you mused, sneaking a glance at him.

sunghoon’s lips curved slightly. "maybe just water. but you should go for the slushie,” he said, eyes glinting a bit. “it seems… you."

surprised by his answer, you chuckled. "oh, you think so?"

he shrugged, an almost smile on his face. "yeah, it’s very bright, like you,"

“oh. thank you,” you weren’t quite sure if you should be flattered or what. you’ve never had someone compare you to…a slushie.

as you fumbled through your pockets, trying to remember where you’d stashed your card, you looked up to find sunghoon already tapping his.

“oh—you didn’t have to do that,” you chuckled softly, surprised but grateful.

he shrugged with a small smile. “it’s nothing. i don’t mind.”

you both found a spot to sit, settling into a quiet moment as you sipped your slushie. your mind wandered over the day’s events, piecing together small moments, a growing familiarity. finally, you broke the silence.

“so, what’s on your calendar?” you asked, hoping to draw him into a conversation.

“whatever you all have planned,” he replied with a faint grin. “i’m just here to take the photos.”

“no, i mean the one you were looking at earlier in the café,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips. “it looked pretty packed.”

he paused, caught off guard, glancing down. “oh. well… i keep track of things to make time for the important stuff,” he muttered, then looked up, adding a bit sheepishly, “like… i guess, paying you back.”

“paying me back? for what?” you scoffed not seeing any reason to.

his gaze softened, and he seemed to choose his words carefully. “for being… you,”

a beat of silence hung between you. did he realize how much that sounded like more than small talk?

“thank you, i think,” you managed, feeling a blush warm your cheeks. “we should get back, though. i’m almost done with this.”

“right, of course,” he agreed, standing up beside you, his tone quiet but holding a warmth that lingered as you walked back together.

naturally, just as you’d set your mind on one thing, it didn’t take long to get sidetracked. not that you minded; you enjoyed letting life pull you in whatever direction it chose, figuring it was all some twist of fate.

the flashing “$1 per play” sign on a crane machine caught your eye, drawing you in before you even realized, and before you knew it, you were standing at the controls, card swiped, joystick in hand.

among the jumbled colors and shapes, one prize stood out—a small, perfectly plump penguin plush with big, round eyes and tiny flippers folded at its sides, nestled among other plushies, half-buried but calling to you, almost daring you to try your luck.

the atmosphere was so immersive you blocked nearly everything else in the world. it was just you and that stupid little penguin plush. you took a deep breath, adjusting your stance. guiding the joystick forward, you carefully lined up the claw, your eyes focused on that one penguin. its beady eyes seemed to taunt you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thrill of it.

you saw the timer tick down slowly feeling pressured. you hit the red button, watching the claw descend with a soft whirr. it clamped down, and for a second, you thought you’d actually done it. the penguin was in the claw’s grasp, hanging by a thread of fabric, and your heart leapt as the claw lifted it into the air.

feeling excited you watched anticipatorily as it started to bring it over only to drop it, bouncing off the chute.

but hey! you were never one to give up, and so you swiped again. just one more time wouldn't hurt.

and then one more swipe turned into two more.

and then three more.

and then four more.

honestly, you were going to continue swiping until you got it if it weren’t for hoon’s voice breaking your focus.

“are you… sure you want to keep going?” he asked, a slight hesitation in his voice, like he didn’t want to disrupt your focus.

“i have to! i need to get it, it just looks too much like you for me to pass over it,”.

oh.

you weren’t supposed to say THAT much.

“here let me try,” he suggested, as you handed your card for him to swipe.

you watched as he expertly maneuvered the joystick, barely hesitating before pressing the button. the claw dropped, grasping the penguin plush cleanly on the first try, lifting it without a hitch.

he turned to you, holding out the plush with a small, almost smug smile. “here,” he said simply, “guess this one was meant for you.”

“if i’m being honest, i was trying to win it for you,” you admitted, a little defeated. “guess you beat me to it, though.”

sunghoon smiled, a bit unsure. “well, now you’ve got a little something to remember me by… or, you know, this whole project.”

you chuckled, holding up the plush, poking it playfully. “guess i’ll call him hoon jr. real original, huh?”

you gave the plush a gentle squeeze, feeling the soft fabric under your fingers as you took in its tiny stitched eyes and outstretched wings. it was surprisingly comforting, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy the quiet warmth of the small gesture.

the flashing arcade lights cast a warm glow around the both of you, creating a rare pause in the day’s chaos.

sunghoon shifted beside you, hands in his pockets, his usual reserved expression softened slightly. the two of you stood there, surrounded by the buzz and hum of the arcade, sharing a moment that felt like it was only meant for you—no cameras, no rush, just the quiet reminder of something a little more than the upcoming work.

─── ♡

the world was changing around him as he knew it. not only the change of leaves falling down and the temperature moving to a frigid feeling, but time itself.

the next couple months were…slow. a lot slower than sunghoon had anticipated. he was used to being on a time crunch.

the calendar he had once been using every day to remind himself of the many little details of his day, week to week was for once blank. only an occasional scribble remained every once in a while.

each week brought a new adventure, like wandering the shorelines on a beach day, toes buried in sand, or hopping from one coffee shop to another, scoring each drink for its flavor and warmth.

you all loved a good thrift hunt too, diving into racks of vintage tees, worn-in jeans, and forgotten books, each item telling a story as unique as the one you were all building together.

sunghoon recalled to how you basically picked a large majority of his new closet from there, smiling cheerfully as you forced him to try on things. he couldn’t lie, he liked your attention.

then there were the farmer’s markets, where you’d stroll through stands bursting with color—bright red strawberries, golden honey, baskets of earthy greens. sunghoon couldn’t deny that the warm pastries, fresh-baked and dusted with sugar, were growing on him.

for sunghoon, it was all foreign territory.

relaxing didn’t come naturally to him—he was used to constant movement, ticking clocks, and deadlines. he’d never lingered over a latte just to talk or sifted through racks at a thrift store for the fun of it.

“i was thinking to wrap up this…research,” jay started. all of you knew you were just friends hanging out til that point, no actual work being done, but hey! team bonding is important. “we should head to the city hall and read up on stuff there,” jay prompted. no one else really had specific plans as you’d already run through the collective to-do list.

you all nodded in agreement, scattering to get to the destination. normally, you’d carpool with minjeong and sunoo, but their car was in the shop for repairs, leaving you in a bit of a bind.

so, after a bit of back-and-forth, you found yourself in sunghoon’s car instead. it wasn’t exactly planned—just the most practical option.

sunghoon was terrified—of everything, it seemed. terrified of facing emotions, of this project, and especially, of you.

he enjoyed your company more than he wanted to admit, yet something about your gaze unsettled him. the way a single look from you could leave his head spinning, his heart pounding. it was unnerving.

he hated how much he liked being near you, how he’d catch himself wanting to stay just a little longer. he hated the way you knew his coffee order, called him ‘hoon’ did all the things coworkers don’t do.

from the way you’d lean over his desk to point out something on his screen, or when you would always run off to make sure he was okay when he split off during your group hangouts then spend the rest of the time with him.

that couldn’t just be friendly colleague behavior, right?

he wasn’t oblivious to the signs of a crush; he just hadn’t expected it to hit him with such intensity.

he wished the situation was clear and he could just tell you he liked you without breaking the very famous rule of “don’t date your co workers”. he wasn’t used to being patient.

“did you know that this city was built on some old guy’s school and farm and they evicted him?” jake asked sorting through files at the city hall.

jake’s voice snapping him out of his little world inside of his head.

“yeah i think i learned that in grade school,” he replied

“oh shit you lived here?” jake asked with amusement upon hearing that.

“i grew up here,” he replied, a hint of nostalgia flashing across his face. “but I moved away when I turned 18. felt like it was time to explore somewhere new,” he added, his gaze drifting momentarily, as though recalling a distant memory.

“we should do some of whatever favorites you have in this city,” minjeong suggested, nudging sunoo to look up from his phone.

sunghoon felt weird. all the attention was on him. of course he’d felt this before when presenting his work, but just having people (friends?) want to pay attention to him and listen to the mundane things he said.

this was personal. they weren’t looking at his work; they were looking at him, hanging on to even the smallest things he said, like they actually wanted to know him.

“um, there’s a small park near the house where i grew up, and a convenience store. nothing interesting really,” he suggested recalling his childhood.

“let’s go then! after we finish cleaning up though…” sunoo trailed off looking to the stack of boxes jay had pulled out for ‘research’.

“it’d be interesting to learn more about your childhood and about you, but if you don’t feel comfortable we don’t have to go,” you replied with a warm smile despite the cold months.

“no it’s fine, i don’t mind,”

and so, there you were, back in sunghoon’s car. the silence felt thick, stretching out between you like an unspoken question, lingering just beyond the reach of words.

the hum of the car’s heating was the only sound, filling the space with a steady warmth, yet doing little to ease the quiet tension.

you shifted in your seat, glancing out the window at the streetlights casting shadows on the road. despite the silence, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something comfortably familiar in it, as if the quiet itself was a language only the two of you could understand.

you stared out the window, but your mind kept drifting back to him. there was something magnetic about his quiet presence, like he filled the car without saying a word.

a part of you wanted to break the silence, to fill it with anything: a random comment, a question, maybe a joke. but you held back, sensing that maybe he didn’t mind the quiet.

still, the silence made you hyperaware of every little thing. the way his fingers tapped on the steering wheel occasionally. the way he’d glance your way, just for a second, then back at the road.

your heart felt annoyingly light, fluttering in a way that made you both want to smile and laugh at yourself. this was so out of character—you weren’t usually nervous around people, especially not people you’d been working with for a while.

you could feel your pulse quicken, and you didn’t know why. it wasn’t like he was doing anything out of the ordinary. just driving. just there, next to you.

each moment felt like it stretched out longer than the last. the silence was oddly comforting, even as it made you restless.

you glanced at him, noticing the way his jaw tightened when he concentrated on the road. it was… distracting. and you scolded yourself for even thinking that.

your fingers tapped your leg lightly, the same rhythm he tapped on the steering wheel. maybe he hadn’t noticed, but part of you hoped he had.

sunghoon wanted to say something, anything, to ease the stillness. but every word he thought of felt silly, or worse, like it meant more than he wanted it to.

“i feel like I should say something… this silence feels too heavy,” he admitted, his voice a little shaky, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

you blinked, surprised, before a small smile crept onto your face. “no, really—it’s fine. i’m just enjoying the quiet,” you assured him, your tone easy, hoping it’d settle whatever tension he was feeling.

“i just… i don’t want the silence to feel uncomfortable,” he said, glancing over quickly before looking back at the road, as if he didn’t want to make too big a deal of it.

you felt a hint of warmth at his thoughtfulness. “i promise, it’s okay,” you replied, voice soft and steady. “sometimes, taking a moment to just… be, to appreciate what’s around us, that’s nice.”

he nodded, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel, and though he still seemed restless, your words seemed to settle something within him.

“don’t get me wrong—i’m not opposed to chatting,” you added with a light laugh. “just curious, though—how long until we get there?” you asked, steering the conversation somewhere new.

“about five minutes, give or take,” he replied with a nod. somewhere beneath the calm tone, he found himself wishing the drive was just a little longer to spend a few more seconds, minutes with you.

after the convenience store run and dropping you back at your apartment, sunghoon thought a lot about what you said.

your calmness toward silence lingered in his mind, a contrast to his urge to fill every pause, every quiet moment, with conversation.

he couldn’t understand how you seemed so at ease with the world, like every second didn’t need to be accounted for. he was used to filling gaps, rushing through silences, yet you just let them be, like every second didn’t need something to prove its worth.

unlocking the door to his own place, he mulled over how, in your company, even the silence hadn’t felt as heavy as he feared.

he wasn’t sure why, but the quiet with you had left him unsettled in a way he hadn’t expected.

─── ♡

sunghoon had felt significantly more comfortable over the next weeks growing more relaxed and talkative, it really seemed the team bonding did it’s job.

he felt more free, less judged to give his opinion.

two months had passed since you sat in sunghoon’s car for the first time. sunghoon’s calendar, still mostly blank, with minimal writing. the minimal writing being small things he’d remember about you, anything you told him really.

your favorite coffee, favorite flowers, hobbies, anything really.

tonight marked the first practice shoot of many, getting a good idea of the potential photos he might want. you sat in sunghoon’s car once again staring out at the city ahead of you from the view, taking in the sight.

from where you sat, the city stretched out below in a vast, glittering sprawl.

the buildings looked like scattered constellations against the night, lights twinkling from windows, and casting a warm glow into the misty evening air.

a gentle haze softened the skyline, blending the sharp edges of skyscrapers into the soft glow of distant streetlights and neon signs.

beside you, sunghoon had his camera in hand, his posture focused yet relaxed as he adjusted the settings, while jake, just to his left, fiddled with the light equipment, focused, no longer showing his joking fun demeanor.

the faint buzz of voices and distant city sounds drifted through the air, grounding the quiet scene around you.

you could hear a few clicks go off subtly, but the sound carried off with the many others in the night.

it was cold, and despite you being in multiple layers, you were still freezing.

wait. why were you out here again?

sunghoon and jake said they had it covered for this practice shoot, and jay, minjeong and sunoo weren’t here, so why were you here?

“nah don’t worry we’ll be okay, you go rest up,” you recalled jake saying when sunghoon and him were discussing where to first shoot at.

it was because you wanted to support them, yes.

or at least support sunghoon in his hard work and dedication.

right?

your mind drifted back to that moment, to the way sunghoon's expression shifted when you told jake it was alright—you wanted to stay, to watch them work.

his smile had softened, curving upward in a way you hadn’t seen before, and his eyes widened, just briefly, like he hadn’t expected you’d actually want to be there.

you never realized how much you liked seeing him smile, but it hit you that you enjoyed being in his warm graces. being the reason he could smile so happily like that.

then it hit you, surrounding all the times he’d show up at the gallery with two cups of coffee, one of his own, and a second of your favorite. it never phased you, but you enjoyed that brief moment in the morning. not just being able to get your favorite drink off the bat, but just seeing him.

maybe it was the way he listened or the silent way he noticed the details in people’s lives. maybe it was the steady calm he carried with him, which felt so opposite to the rush and noise of everyone else.

or maybe it was just the realization that you wanted more of those moments. of him.

you felt a new sort of comfort surrounding you in realizing where your thoughts carried you. it wasn’t scary and you didn’t feel pressured to feel what you did towards him.

it felt natural, and you didn’t mind the pace you were at.

“y/n you should come look at these photos sunghoon took, they’re amazing!” jake called out waving his hand to come look at the photos. you nodded and opened the car door making sure to carry the blanket that kept you warm.

you walked over with a sense of calm in you, feeling at peace for finally being able to sort your thoughts out. jake walked off leaving just you, sunghoon, and a camera.

you hovered over the camera inspecting the beauty captured by it, and comparing it to what you eyes could naturally take in infront of you marveling at the sight.

“these are just. wow. they’re stunning hoon, honestly good enough to be the final shoot,” you joked (not really) at the end. you didn’t have to lie to tell him the beauty they captured.

“thank you, y/n, i appreciate it,” his voice softened despite the frigid temperatures.

“i didn’t realize how much i liked nighttime cityscapes but just wow. you’re really a master at this,” you smiled still awing the photo. you looked up from the camera to find his eyes gazing back into yours studying your every micromovement.

maybe you should have instantly looked away when your eyes made contact, but you didn’t. you held his gaze looking in his eyes admiring the world you could see through them. admiring how you could see his world through them.

you felt yourself drawn in, noticing how his eyes softened in the dim light, catching every detail of your expression as if he were trying to memorize it, too. there was something so unguarded in his gaze that it left you wondering—how often did he let anyone see him this way?

it felt like looking into a world you hadn’t seen before, like a momentary glimpse past the careful walls he usually kept up. maybe that’s what held you, the idea that, through that look, you were somehow let in. you saw the way his guard slipped, even just a little, showing you the warmth and thoughtfulness usually hidden behind his quiet demeanor.

you admired the subtle spark in his eyes that seemed to light up when he was truly present, like he was with you in that moment, unhurried and genuine. there was a sense of closeness in the silence, an understanding that you both held, lingering quietly between you.

and as you held his gaze, it felt like everything around you faded out, like this moment had its own weight, its own depth, unfolding softly between you.

“okay, i loaded it on a different sd card, y/n do you wanna head back in the car to uh..” jake came back holding a laptop, preoccupied, then noticing the distance and the interaction between you and sunghoon.

one quick assessment of the situation and he figured out what was going on, no awkward looks or stutters needed to be said.

“uhh i’ll be over here, sunghoon let me know when you’re good to continue shooting,” he continued on, sitting down on the nearby camper chair with his laptop analyzing the photos.

“nono, i’ll head back to the car, good luck on the rest! show me in the car later!” you cheerfully yipped out, looking away from sunghoon, and briskly walking your way back to the car. his car that is.

as you slumped back into your seat, a strange energy filled you—a quiet buzz that ran beneath your skin. the evening was alive with possibilities, but you forced yourself to hold back, to let things unfold naturally. you reminded yourself not to jump ahead, not to overthink or analyze every look, every lingering silence. things would happen in their own time, you told yourself. let it be.

but even as you repeated the words, you couldn’t fully push away the anticipation thrumming inside you. you knew there was something there, something unspoken but felt. it made you feel like every small moment had meaning—like the way his gaze had softened when he’d caught you looking at him, or the way he waited just a second longer than necessary when he dropped you off, his eyes lingering on yours.

yet, you didn’t want to assume, didn’t want to misstep and make him uncomfortable by wanting more before he was ready. so you settled back, let yourself get lost in the quiet sounds of the night as you tried to quiet the thoughts in your mind.

sunghoon, however, was struggling with restraint of his own. he wanted to reach out, to define whatever this was now instead of letting it drift without a name. he wanted the clarity of a label, a tangible understanding between you both that this was more than just quiet glances and shared coffee.

he tapped his fingers against his side, feeling the impatience gnaw at him. he’d never felt quite this way before—this quiet, constant pull toward someone. he wanted the comfort of knowing where he stood, the simple ease of calling you something more than a friend.

and even though he hesitated, unsure of how to say it or when to bring it up, that impatience lingered, urging him to take a chance.

as you waited in the car, you noticed the signature blue calendar he would carry with him, peaking out from his bag. you knew it was bad to snoop, but it’s just a calendar so what’s the harm?

you recalled how he always kept his calendar so close, almost sacred. he’d never let anyone flip through it casually, and there was something endearing in the way he treated it like his personal vault. but here you were, skimming through its pages, carefully thumbing over each detail he’d meticulously planned, organized, and guarded.

as you moved further back in the year, you noticed how every single corner of the earlier months was packed with events, deadlines, and reminders, all stacked so close together there was barely any blank space. but as you neared the months when your project together began, it was as though the calendar itself had started to breathe. gaps of empty white space dotted each week—untouched, open, flexible.

flip to another week in the same month, where you saw all your favorite things being written down.

y/n favorite coffee, mocha cream y/n fav flower is peonies y/n likes citrus/clean scents

you couldn’t help but smile at these thoughtful details written in his familiar handwriting, an echo of how much attention he must have been paying all along. they weren’t bold or highlighted, no special stars or embellishments around them—just quiet, tucked away in the folds of his otherwise meticulously planned calendar.

you ran your finger over the words, letting yourself take in each small token he’d left behind feeling a warmth rise up in your chest as you took in the silent care embedded in those notes.

gently, you closed the calendar and placed it back in its spot, careful to leave it exactly as you’d found it.

─── ♡

on the drive back to the main city from the quiet outskirts where you’d been practice shooting, the car seemed to grow heavier with each passing mile. jake, sitting in the backseat, could practically feel the tension thickening in the air, a quiet current between you and sunghoon that neither of you seemed eager to break.

sunghoon had grown used to the silence that fell between you two. for someone who once found quiet spaces awkward and uncomfortable, he was starting to see the beauty in it—how, with you, silence didn’t feel empty.

it felt full, a kind of gentle hum that let him think without needing to say a word. he found himself watching the road ahead, but his mind drifted back to your presence beside him, wondering what you were thinking, feeling, if the silence was as comfortable for you as it was slowly becoming for him.

you stopped at the convenience store you stopped as a group months prior and you noticed subtle changes—a few new products, different ads on the walls, small shifts that somehow fit. it felt right though, the change for the store was good.

you wandered down the aisles, the familiar hum of the refrigeration units a soft background to your thoughts. a new brand of energy drink caught your eye, and you grabbed one, smiling as you remembered jake daring sunghoon to down two in a row last time you were all here.

sunghoon moved through the aisles with his usual quiet focus, but tonight, there was a slight hesitance in his steps. you walked a few paces behind, watching as he reached for snacks, glanced over products, but occasionally, you felt his gaze drift back to you. it was subtle, the way he’d glance over his shoulder, his eyes searching for a brief second before he turned away, as if to make sure you were still there.

once, your eyes met, and you felt a quiet pull—a wordless exchange that made you feel more aware of his presence, of the shared space between you. he held your gaze for a moment longer than expected, before he quickly looked away, clearing his throat as he continued on. the warmth lingered, a gentle heat settling in your chest, and you found yourself biting back a smile, wondering if he felt it, too.

it would have been easy to brush off, to tell yourself that it was just a simple look, a fleeting moment. but something about it felt significant, like there was more to it than either of you dared to say. as he continued down the aisle, his steps slowed, and he let the silence hang between you, filled with an awareness that was soft but unignorable.

you followed at his pace, feeling content to exist in this quiet moment together, letting the silence speak for itself. every now and then, he’d glance back, and each time, it felt like a quiet question he wasn’t quite ready to ask.

picking up a bag of chips, you lingered by the checkout, watching as he browsed the candy aisle with a rare, almost childlike curiosity. he finally settled on something, paying without a word and slipping it into his pocket with a subtle smile.

it was eerily silent for what many people would interpret as a group of friends, yet it felt right. the occasional joking comments from jake littered in through the silence, not that you minded.

you had texted sunoo and minjeong to come over despite it being the late hours in the night with the promise of paying for any snacks they wanted to which they happily obliged, and walked in not much longer.

they took sight of the many snacks sprawled across the table, eyes wide. "all this on you?" minjeong asked, surprised by the number of snacks.

"yep," you grinned, waving them over. “go wild.”

what once was silence was filled by cheerful banter between the five of you, while normally not as loud as you would be, you made up for the absence of jay probably being asleep.

you felt a pair of eyes comfortably resting on your figure and as you looked up, you found yourself eye to eye with sunghoon again, your gaze lingering longer than colleagues maybe should

after loading up on snacks, the five of you drifted out of the convenience store, stomachs full and happy, you found yourself back in sunghoon’s car.

as you buckled your seatbelt on you took another look at the peaceful look sunghoon had on his face and he looked back at yours. his gaze softened as he looked at you, and you could see a faint glint of amusement in his eyes.

“what? something on my face?” you asked, a small smile tugging at your lips, trying to break the momentary intensity of the eye contact.

“of course, i’d come out to support you anytime hoon. even after this project is done,” you replied, your voice soft but sincere.

he looked at you, his smile lingering, and for a moment, you could almost feel the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air. “it means a lot, more than you know,” he said quietly, his gaze shifting to the ground for a moment, like he was sorting through something in his head.

you weren’t sure if it was the night, the quiet between you, or the lingering warmth of the convenience store visit, but something about the way he said it made you feel like there was more to that simple thank you. it was the kind of moment that felt small but significant, and for the first time in a while, you couldn’t help but wonder what would come next.

─── ♡

at the next practice shoot, the following month, everyone was there, and you could finally experience what working with each other was like for this project.

jay managing everyone, jake fixated on the lighting, minjeong, sunoo, and you on standby there for support. it seemed all that team bonding was starting to show as you found yourselves in a natural flow, relaxed yet anticipatory.

everyone seemed to be in their right mind, well, except for sunghoon that is.

unbeknownst to you, that convenience store night was all he could think about.

sunghoon adjusted his camera, hands steady but his mind drifting, unable to shake the unease gnawing at him. he tried to stay focused on the familiar rhythm of the shoot, hoping it would ground him, but his thoughts kept slipping back to the night at the convenience store.

he’d replayed every second in his mind—the way you’d looked at him, laughed at something he’d said, your easy smile that seemed to reach just a little deeper. it was as though he was seeing pieces of something beautiful that refused to fall into place.

his eyes drifted back to you, almost as if by habit. it felt like every look you shared lately had its own gravity, a silent language that left him both eager and hesitant. he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something unspoken lingering between you, yet he doubted himself, wondered if he was only imagining it.

he tried to brush it off, focusing instead on the task in front of him, calling out directions and adjusting his camera settings. still, his mind kept circling back, caught in a loop of doubt. every look you gave him seemed to spark a question he couldn’t answer.

were his feelings becoming too obvious? was he stuck waiting for a sign that would never come? each glance between you seemed to hold a promise, yet he was starting to wonder if it was all in his head, if he was simply reaching for something that wasn’t really there.

did you even want this? if you wanted it too why hasn’t anything happened? love should feel like it’s at first sight, that it’s simple and you’ll know right away.

he took a steadying breath and aimed his camera, telling himself that maybe this was just the timing, that things would unfold naturally. still, a part of him ached with impatience, with the desire for things to move forward, to finally break the tension and know where he stood.

in the end, he stayed quiet, capturing moments through his lens, hoping it would be enough to quiet his mind. but as the shoot wore on, he couldn’t help feeling like he was holding his breath, waiting for a moment that kept slipping just out of reach.

everything felt right, so why wasn’t anything happening?

if only you had known, maybe you could’ve said the words necessary to reassure him.

you glanced over at sunghoon, who was adjusting his lens with his usual precision, and couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. lately, you’d noticed how he always seemed to glance back at you, his expression softening in a way that made you feel warm inside.

though, sunghoon was quieter than usual even after all the team bonding and getting used to being around each other. his gaze flickering between his camera and the ground, almost as if he were more focused on his thoughts than on the scene around him.

he seemed hesitant, movements a little more calculated, as if overthinking every small action.

you figured it must be due to the lack of sleep or just something.

it was as if he was unsure of his place—not in the project, but in whatever was building between the two of you. every now and then, you’d catch him watching you from afar, his gaze softer, but by the time you met his eyes, he’d look away quickly, his expression unreadable.

something about it just felt, off. normally, your gazes would linger with each other, intertwining as if they were telling a whole new story in each other’s glances, yet it couldn’t just be because he was tired.

he seemed cautious, like he was holding himself back again. you wondered if he was doubting the connection you thought had been growing, or if he was simply caught up in his own head. it was clear something was pulling him away, a hesitation that hung in the air between you, subtle but undeniable.

whilst you wanted to dwell on the issue further, you figured it could be an off day, you weren’t too concerned with fixing an unfixable issue. life would take it’s course, holding you by the hand wherever it wanted you to be.

you hoped that this principle would hold true even in this time now.

─── ♡

it had been months since the six of you had hung out not doing work related things, ironic as it sounds.

the six of you were gathered at the same cozy café you had frequented so many times before, the familiar chatter of friends filling the air as you each sipped on your drinks. the usual buzz of conversation was present, but today there was something different—a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

it felt like the walls that once existed in the beginning of the project were once built up again.

sunghoon sat across from you, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup absentmindedly, eyes occasionally flicking to you when he thought you weren’t looking. he had been quieter than usual, more distant. you couldn’t pinpoint the reason, but it had been on your mind all week.

you tried to shake it off. maybe he was just tired. maybe it was the pressure of the project, of the looming deadline. but you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something else was at play.

you took a sip of your coffee hoping to drown out the thoughts that ran through your head.

“so,” jake piped up, breaking the silence that had settled over the group. “anyone up for some impromptu karaoke later? i’ve been dying to belt out some classics.”

minjeong raised an eyebrow. “karaoke? really? you know i can’t sing to save my life.”

“don’t worry, we’ll let you off easy,” jake teased, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “i’m sure sunghoon here would love to join in, right?”

sunghoon’s gaze flickered to jake for a moment before his eyes slid back to his coffee cup. “i’m not really feeling it today,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

you glanced at him, catching his tired eyes before he quickly looked away. it was subtle, but there was an unmistakable shift in his demeanor, one that you couldn’t ignore. it wasn’t like sunghoon to turn down a new experience, even if it scared him. especially when the rest of the group was so lively.

“is everything okay?” you asked softly, your voice gentle, though you could feel the weight of your words hanging in the air. you didn’t want to push him, but you couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his mind.

sunghoon tensed for a brief moment, as though your question had caught him off guard. he hesitated, clearly unsure of how to respond. “yeah, everything’s fine,” he said finally, offering a half-hearted smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “just… tired, i guess.”

you nodded, but the unease in the pit of your stomach refused to settle. there was more to it than that. you could sense it, the way he kept his distance, the way his smiles no longer carried the same warmth. something was off, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was connected to you.

“come on, let’s not ruin the vibe,” minjeong interjected, her voice light and playful. “let’s focus on something fun. anyone want to plan our next outing?”

but sunghoon wasn’t really listening anymore. his focus was elsewhere, distant, as though his mind was a million miles away. you caught him glancing at his phone once, then again, but when you looked, he quickly put it down, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table.

it was obvious that his thoughts were elsewhere, and it made you feel like you were walking on eggshells around him. you hated this—this space between you both. it wasn’t like the easy banter you were used to, the comfortable silence you could share without it feeling heavy.

you shifted in your seat, your gaze dropping to your drink. you tried to focus on the conversation, on the lighthearted chatter between sunoo and jake, but your thoughts kept drifting back to sunghoon.

was he upset with you? was something wrong with the project? or maybe—just maybe—he was pulling away because of something more. something you couldn’t quite understand.

“i think i’m gonna head out soon,” sunghoon said suddenly, his voice breaking through your spiraling thoughts. “got some stuff to take care of, old projects”

the group looked up, surprised by his abrupt announcement. you didn’t want to let him leave like this, not with the tension hanging in the air. but you didn’t want to push him either.

“are you sure?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

sunghoon looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. then, he nodded. “yeah. i’ll see you guys later.”

with that, he stood up and made his way toward the door, leaving the table behind him. the remaining five of you exchanged glances, a sense of confusion settling over the group. you could hear the murmur of voices, but none of it really reached you. your mind was fixed on sunghoon’s retreating figure.

“he’s been like this for a while now,” jake said, his tone quieter than usual. “i don’t think it’s just the project.”

you swallowed, trying to push down the growing anxiety in your chest. “what do you mean?”

jake shrugged, glancing over at sunghoon’s empty seat. “he’s been distant, you know? like he’s in his head too much. he wasn’t always like this.”

you nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. your gaze wandered to the door where sunghoon had just exited. was he pulling away from everyone? or was it just you? the thought gnawed at you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt uncertain.

you wanted to help him, to break through whatever wall he had built around himself. but you didn’t know how.

“don’t worry about it,” minjeong said, her voice soft as she noticed the way you were biting your lip in thought. “he’ll figure it out.”

you hoped so. but deep down, you weren’t so sure. you wanted to continue whatever thing you had going on, but weren’t sure if it was possible to return to that small state of bliss between the two of you. possible to return to that same state where you’d gaze into each other's eyes finding a potential lifetime in them.

─── ♡

the first day of final shootings arose sooner than he would’ve hoped. it was a month since he last saw you and the coffee shop, spending most of his time with jake and jay away from the gallery.

sunghoon stood on the top of the hill, camera in hand, staring out at the city below. the night stretched endlessly, thick with clouds, the city lights shimmering in the distance, blurred by a soft drizzle that seemed to hang in the air, casting a haze over everything, nothing to what the first practice shoot felt like.

jay and jake stood off to the side, adjusting the lighting, keeping their voices low, perhaps sensing the tension rolling off him. sunghoon took in a sharp breath, the cold air burning slightly as he tried to focus on something other than the gnawing frustration in his chest.

his mind wandered back to you, to the way you’d once stood beside him on pratice shoot nights. your eyes bright with excitement, seeing something in each scene that he’d often missed. he thought of how you’d nudge him, urging him to experiment, to capture things in ways he hadn’t thought of. you’d brought a sense of ease, of natural rhythm, to his work.

now, without you, he felt like he was grasping at fragments of inspiration, his usual confidence slipping away.

“hey, sunghoon, maybe we should take a break?” jake suggested gently, sensing his growing frustration. “it’s still early. we’ve got time, we can grab a bite to eat then come back,”

“no, it’s fine, i’m just, thinking,” sunghoon replied back in a tone harsher than he intended.

sunghoon watched as jake blinked, slightly taken aback, and jay cast him a cautious look, but they both kept their distance, knowing better than to push him. he turned away, gripping his camera tightly, frustrated with himself for snapping at jake. it wasn’t their fault he couldn’t settle into the rhythm of this shoot; they were only trying to help.

“sorry,” sunghoon mumbled out. “i didn’t mean to come off that way i’ve just been stressed,”

the two nodded in acceptance and brushed it off, they knew better than to get hurt by words from a confused man.

he closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself settle into the familiar sounds of the city below, trying to reconnect with something beyond his frustration. he felt jake’s concerned gaze, sensed jay hovering nearby, but they didn’t say anything, and somehow, the quiet felt heavier than before.

to sunghoon’s disappointment, jay called it a night there sensing how sunghoon needed time to process whatever he was going through. they didn’t have much time, but any was better than none.

sunghoon was was in a slump. he came to the conclusion that him and you were just not meant to be. as much as he’d love to just drown out his emotions with another batch of meaningless unsentimental photos he had a job to do.

he thought about how slowly things had built between you two, how gentle it all was—like a quiet warmth that crept up over time. but it wasn’t love at first sight. it hadn’t been some dizzying, head-spinning whirlwind. and now, that absence haunted him.

maybe he was wrong to let himself care like this, he thought, feeling the weight of it all press down on him. maybe he’d misread the signals, mistaken something comfortable for something more. if it was real, shouldn’t it have been electric from the start?

he leaned his head back, sighing as he let the doubt settle in. he searched for reasons, for something to explain the ache he felt, for why he couldn’t shake this longing for you even now. he wanted to believe it was enough—the quiet way he’d come to care, the steady rhythm of falling for you. but as the night grew still, so did his doubts.

feeling impatient and irritated he pondered what was next after this project?

go back to the busy photography life of visiting a multitude of countries in a short span to take photos that held zero meaning to him?

it only fueled his reasoning that it wasn’t meant to be.

while he may not have enjoyed it, that was his life, taking photos, what else was he going to do?

as he set up his camera for a second attempt, with jake once helping with lights and jay helping to make sure everything ran well.

though, it didn’t quite feel the same as all his other photography shoots. instead of a clear sky with stars shining bright and a perfect bustling city, it was…imperfect.

instead of the crystal-clear sky he’d planned for, filled with stars, the sky was murky, blanketed by thick clouds that blotted out the moonlight. the city below was drenched, its usual dullness covered by the rain that pooled in the gutters and slicked the sidewalks, leaving everything looking worn and tired.

as sunghoon set up his camera, adjusting the settings and squinting through the viewfinder, he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was off. jake held up the lights beside him, fighting the rain that made it all ten times harder.

he frowned, feeling the tug of irritation, every part of him wanting to pack up his equipment and call it a night. he didn’t want this—the blurred lines, the washed-out colors, the way it all felt messier than he’d envisioned. it was nothing like the polished image he’d had in his head.

jay, sensing sunghoon’s frustration, clapped him on the shoulder, leaning in so his words wouldn’t get lost in the noise of the rain. “just give it a chance. wait it out the rain maybe, and then we can get the perfect shot,”

and that’s when it hit him.

his city was just perfectly imperfect.

it wasn’t what he’d expected. it wasn’t his ideal vision, but it was real. raw. flawed in a way that felt unexpectedly compelling.

he raised his camera again, eyes focusing through the lens as he let go of the need for perfection, ready to capture something true, something that told a story all its own.

as the camera shuttered, he felt a sense of excitement wash over him. the feeling of taking photos for his enjoyment rushing back as he snapped each photo.

“these photos are gonna be kinda…drabby, to say the least. a bunch of editing is gonna be needed, but we can work with this,” jake contested feeling unsure of sunghoon’s bold confidence as he smiled back to jake with a huge grin.

“this whole week is raining too sunghoon, so either next week or today if you don’t like the photos, but we’re on a time crunch,” jay called from the tent shielding him from the rain.

sunghoon shook his head with a wave of confidence, “no, i think i like these photos a lot. they feel very, personal i guess you could say,”

jake raised an eyebrow, glancing over at sunghoon with a hint of surprise. “really? didn’t think you’d go for something so… unfiltered,” he said, half-smiling.

sunghoon chuckled, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “yeah, neither did i,” he admitted, glancing down at the screen where the captured images glowed back at him. “but there’s something about the imperfections that feels more… real, like it’s not just another shot of a pretty city.”

as he stared down at the candid, rain-soaked cityscape on his camera screen, sunghoon felt something shift inside him. he thought back to his relationship with you with the new perspective.

he’d expected a flawless, cinematic romance—the kind where everything fell neatly into place from the start, where feelings were undeniable and immediate. but maybe love wasn’t that way. maybe it wasn’t about some grand, sweeping declaration or the way his heart skipped a beat at the first sight of you.

his fingers hovered over the camera, tracing the edges of the image displayed there. the shot was far from perfect—the rain blurred the streetlights, and the shadows of people passing were smudged into streaks across the pavement.

he thought of you again, the way you always let things unfold as they were, never rushing or trying to force anything. that patience, that acceptance of things as they came, was something he was beginning to understand.

he’d wanted so badly for everything to be clear-cut, to know exactly where he stood with you, exactly what every glance and word meant. but now, he was starting to see the beauty in letting things grow in their own time.

sometimes being impatient for the unknown was okay. not knowing what comes next is part of the journey and excitement.

he excitedly took photos throughout the city with a new found perspective, letting the wind take him.

─── ♡

the date for the gallery was finally set, and the buzz around it was impossible to ignore. posters were up around campus, social media posts were popping off with previews, and it felt like everything was falling into place just right.

you’d been in constant contact with minjeong and sunoo, coordinating each little detail, answering questions, adjusting plans to fit sunghoon’s vision as closely as possible. there was a quiet pride in watching it all come together, a satisfaction in knowing your work had paid off in ways you hadn’t fully anticipated.

the gallery had drawn more attention than expected—people genuinely seemed excited about it. every time you checked in with sunoo, he had new numbers to share about the online engagement, and minjeong kept you updated on event interest lists, which were growing every day. it was exhilarating and a little overwhelming, too. you wondered if sunghoon knew just how much excitement surrounded his work, if he’d noticed the attention or if he was too deep into perfecting the last shots for the exhibit to realize.

a small part of you wondered if he’d thought about you at all in the last month. it had been weeks since that night at the convenience store, that easy warmth you’d felt lingering between you two somehow.

since then, things had gone quiet, slipping into routine, and you’d buried yourself in coordinating every detail of this launch. but even as the work kept you busy, thoughts of him still crept in, unbidden and frequent. there was something there that was hard to define—an almost friendship, maybe more. whatever it was, you hoped it hadn’t faded while he’d been away.

you wanted to reach out to him, tell him you were just a chat away from talking about everything. any worries about anything.

on the day of the final walkthrough, you stepped into the gallery a little earlier, wanting a chance to look around before the crowd arrived. the walls were lined with his shots, each one telling its own story, each one imbued with a little more of him than you’d expected.

his work felt personal, almost like glimpses into a side of him you hadn’t seen before.

you lingered in front of one of the photos, a candid shot of the cityscape under an overcast sky, rain blurring the edges. it was imperfect but striking, raw and beautiful in its own way. you felt a sense of quiet pride for him and his work.

it was obvious he’d poured himself into this project, and now, standing here in the gallery, surrounded by pieces of his world, you understood a little more of what he’d been chasing after.

but as you were looking through all the pieces you noticed something different. it wasn’t just cityscapes this time.

as your eyes wandered along the gallery walls, familiar scenes began to emerge, each one tugging you back to a moment you’d almost forgotten.

first, there was the convenience store, washed in soft, nostalgic hues. the aisles looked the same as they had that night, but the way he’d captured it felt almost dreamlike. the colors seemed warmer, more inviting. you could almost hear the quiet hum of the refrigerators, the faint rustle of snack bags, and the soft, comforting silence that had filled the air between you.

your gaze drifted to the next photo—a snapshots of the arcade. it was chaotic yet somehow inviting, as though he’d captured a slice of that unfiltered joy you’d felt there. the image focused on the crane machine, its glass glowing under neon light. the sight vividly reminding you of the two of you laughing and cheering each other on as you attempted, over and over, to win a plush toy. the energy was so vibrant, it almost felt like you were back in that moment, playfully trying over and over again for sunghoon jr.

then your eyes fell upon a final image that caught you off guard. it was of a small receipt taped to a window, the ink faded, but clear enough to make out a single line item—your favorite coffee order. the shot was so simple, yet intimate, as if he’d captured a little piece of you in that slip of paper. in this photo, you could feel his attention to detail, his desire to remember even the small things.

a quiet realization settled over you as you looked at these photos, each one woven with memories of your time together. you’d thought you were simply there to support him, but here in this gallery, with his work all around you, it felt like you were somehow a part of it, a part of him.

as the time ticked closer to the opening, you spotted sunghoon entering quietly, his gaze sweeping across the room, an unreadable expression on his face. when his eyes landed on you, he gave a small nod, something tentative in his gaze. your heart gave a small leap, a reminder of everything unspoken, every quiet look and lingering moment.

you smiled at him, a silent acknowledgment of all the work that had led you both here. whatever the night would bring, you were glad to be here, a part of this world he’d built.

“do.. you like it?” sunghoon asked nervously, awaiting your opinion. after the inspiration had hit him that it was okay for things to take his time, he found himself being pulled to all the key moments that developed the relationship between you two.

"like it? no, i love it, hoon. it feels so… real," you said softly, a gentle smile spreading across your face as you looked back at him.

sunghoon’s eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, something unspoken hung in the air between you. he hesitated, his gaze searching your expression as though he were trying to see if you meant it—if you truly saw what he’d poured into each frame.

"i wanted it to be… more than just photos," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was confessing something he hadn’t fully realized himself. "more than just places. places that reminded me of you,"

you nodded, understanding settling over you as you took in his work again, feeling the weight and warmth of every captured moment. life was finally taking its course again.

sunghoon felt at peace letting fate take the reigns of his life, it felt peaceful not having to worry and make life fit to your time.

─── ♡

“PARK SUNGHOON: HEART OF THE CITY” is what was plastered on the billboards everywhere in the city, social media, everywhere.

opening day of the new exhibit quickly arose with the gallery completely booked out with admission tickets to see the classic perfection of beauty from one of the world’s most renowned and skilled photographers.

sunghoon’s work hung along the walls, each photograph telling a story that felt intimate yet universal. it was almost surreal, seeing the spaces that had once been mere fragments of his ideas now filling the room, carrying the weight of so many moments he had captured over the last few months. you felt like each photo held something personal—a glimpse into his world.

your mind kept drifting to sunghoon. would he be pleased with the way everything had turned out? would he see what everyone else seemed to—the raw beauty and sincerity of his vision?

with doors officially opened, a steady flow of visitors began walking through, filling up the main room anticipating sunghoon’s opening speech.

jay started off with introducing sunghoon with a brief overview, going into detail about the city’s history and sunghoon’s connection, and as that fastly came to a close, you from behind as sunghoon took the microphone from jay’s hand and began.

he was more nervous from ever. doing the opening speech wasn’t the hard part, but with you watching, it scared him even more. he recalled back to letting life take him by the hand and talk freely letting the words fall out of his mouth.

“thank you so much for being here this morning, i appreciate each and everyone of you who came out, this project couldn’t have been done without my amazing team, jay, jake, minjeong, sunoo, and y/n,” he paused, his gaze shifting to each of you, lingering just a second longer when his eyes met yours.

you felt your cheeks turn a rosy pink at the mention of your name. you felt your cheeks turn a soft shade of pink at the mention of your name. standing there, surrounded by the work you’d all brought to life, the warmth that spread through you was undeniable.

“this work is definitely some of the most personal and dear to me, and i had the chance to have my inspiration for these pieces work alongside me,” he continued on. his eyes flickered back to you as he said it, a subtle but unmistakable acknowledgment. “these pieces will differ from my past works, as it includes photography of not just cities, but the life within them, and the love i’ve found in the city,”

a murmur spread through the crowd, people glancing at you with quiet smiles, but all you could focus on was him. the way his words seemed to reach you across the room, folding the world down to just the two of you.

as his speech concluded and the crowd broke into applause, you found yourself wondering if he knew just how much he had inspired you too. sunghoon gave a modest smile, but his eyes held a depth, a gratitude, and something else that you couldn’t quite put into words.

as the crowd split off to see the works plastered on the walls, some lingered in front of certain images, whispering to each other with appreciative nods, while others stood in awe, studying each detail. every so often, you caught snippets of their murmurs: “this one feels so real, doesn’t it?” or “you can almost feel the moment in this.”

the positive reactions settled some of your nerves, and a small smile formed as you saw sunghoon's work finally receiving the admiration it deserved.

amidst the crowd, you spotted him—sunghoon, standing quietly to the side, his gaze drifting from one photograph to another. his usual air of quiet confidence seemed tinged with something softer today, almost like he, too, was letting himself be vulnerable among his own work. you couldn’t resist walking over, weaving through the guests until you reached him.

“sunghoon,” you whispered, a warmth spreading in your chest. “they love it. look around. you did it.”

he turned to you, a flicker of something gentle in his expression as he took in your words. “i couldn’t have done it without you,” he replied, the depth in his voice making your heart flutter.

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, this is all you. i’m just lucky i got to witness it up close.”

"you. you were the inspiration," he said softly, his gaze holding yours with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. his fingers found yours, interlocking them together gently. “i don’t want to rush it, but it feels right, you and me,” he continued, his voice a quiet confession that was both vulnerable and certain.

you felt your chest warm, a delicate reassurance flooding through you as you squeezed his hand. “hoon, i…” you trailed off, searching for the right words, realizing that he already knew. he could see it in the way you looked at him, the way you stayed close.

“you don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “i just wanted you to know, and thank you for waiting so patiently,” his words were soft, thoughtful, as if he understood all the unspoken things you felt, as if he had been waiting just as patiently as you.

“i like you too hoon. like a lot a lot,” you giggled with a smile falling over your face. “i don’t know where this will lead,” you continued, feeling an odd mix of certainty and excitement, “but i’m ready to see where it goes. with you.”

the time it took to your heart might’ve been a while, but it was worth every second. love doesn’t happen fast, but when it does, it’s a wonderful beautiful thing.

his eyes softened, and he squeezed your hand in return, a silent promise in that touch, a reassurance that this was only the beginning.

─── ♡

the weekend after the exhibit opened, you and sunghoon decided on your first official date. it felt surreal, standing there with him in a different light—not as colleagues, not as friends, but something warmer, something that hinted at possibilities.

sunghoon picked the same café, cozy and tucked away, with large windows and low-lit ambiance that felt as comforting as a well-kept secret. as you settled into your seats, ordering your favorite coffee, that felt more like old friends than drinks, he glanced at you with a mixture of hesitation and excitement, a rare vulnerability in his usually steady gaze.

“there’s something i should probably tell you,” he started, a faint smile tugging at his lips, looking almost as though he were admitting a long-held secret.

you tilted your head, curiosity sparking in your eyes, though you had a feeling you already knew what was coming. “go on,” you encouraged, a playful smile creeping up on your face.

he looked away for a moment, almost sheepish. “the calendar,” he said, his fingers tapping the table, “i started keeping track of… well, of things about you. your favorite things, places you liked going… i mean, it was probably overboard—”

you couldn’t help but smile, reaching across the table to touch his hand. “sunghoon,” you interrupted softly, “i already knew, i might have taken a peak in the car during the first practice shoot,” you giggled feeding him a bite of the coffee cake you had also ordered.

he exhaled, relief washing over him, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “i was terrified you’d find it strange or overbearing.”

“not at all,” you assured, squeezing his hand. “if anything, it felt nice. it felt… real.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, letting the quiet comfort of the café fill the silence between you. sunghoon’s fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, as if he were memorizing every detail, just like those careful notes in his calendar.

he grinned, clearly pleased, and you both leaned into that moment, the knowledge of each other’s hidden care coming into the open, like the first step in something neither of you could wait to see unfold.

“what’s the plan now that the contract is basically up?” you asked a wave of unsurety washed over you. a moment of peace, but you were reminded he still had a job to do.

“i think i’m going to take a break, see where life takes me, hopefully with you,” he hummed out in response.

you nodded, the weight of his words sinking in slowly, and a quiet smile spread across your face. here you were, together at last, and he was already speaking as if this—whatever this was—was just the beginning.

“you’re sure?” you asked, voice almost a whisper.

sunghoon’s eyes softened, the confidence of his words melting away any trace of doubt. “i don’t think i’ve been surer about anything else,” he murmured, meeting your gaze with steady warmth. “i’ve spent so long capturing moments, freezing them in time… but with you, i want to be present for whatever comes next.”

while it was fun traveling to different countries, it’s not like he got to really experience them like he experienced the city he once called home. form a bond with the city. experience forming a bond with you.

you felt that same warmth wash over you, grounding you in the reality of his presence. a presence that had once felt distant, but was now unmistakably here, lingering in every breath, every glance, every small, silent gesture.

“i like the sound of that,” you replied, unable to help the way your smile deepened. “guess it’s a good thing you took such careful notes about me,” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

he laughed, shaking his head. “all those notes… they didn’t even scratch the surface.”

you felt a flutter in your chest, a feeling that settled somewhere deep and familiar, one that whispered to you that everything was finally falling into place.

as you stood together in that moment, time seemed to stretch, just like one of sunghoon’s photographs. you knew there’d be more moments like this, moments where nothing needed to be said, and everything felt perfectly imperfect, just as it was.

“so, where do we go from here?” you asked, looking at him with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

“anywhere,” he replied, squeezing your hand gently, “as long as it’s with you.”

you knew then that whatever path lay ahead, it was one you’d face together. there’d be no more contracts or deadlines, only the quiet assurance of two people finding solace in each other’s presence, ready for whatever story life would let them capture next.

─── ♡

a/n: sunghoon's version of to: your heart!!! everyone cheered (me). happy belated birthday to jake ? (I have terrible timing and I should've written his first than do sunghoon's). make sure to SMASH that like button, but in all seriousness all likes, reblogs, and comments are deeply appreciated!! unrelated but thank you to sav for indirectly reminding me to write this by mentioning this like once in a convo LMAO. hope you all enjoyed !! ><

@ coqhee 2024. all rights reserved.

[gingergari]

miss her, kiss her, love her (wrong move you’re dead)

new jjba oc with the stand Poison!

[pathologicalreid]

all we ever do is talk | s.r.

in which Spencer and wife!reader fear they're getting boring, so the BAU sets them up with a hotel suite for Spencer's birthday

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: i don't remember. hold on. oral (f and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, breeding but not like the primordial kinky type just like, having sex to get pregnant, drinking wine, this is like circa s11, not proofread i'm just a girl, david rossi being rich for the plot, i hate hate hate the word pussy but here we are, softdom!spencer. spencer reid certified gift giver! word count: 4.17k a/n: a fic based on a del water gap song? who's surprised? no one! anyways i blacked out toward the end of writing this one no clue what happens here also sorry about the breeding thing i really don't know where that came from

The robe you wore was luxurious, and the cumulative cost of every item in your hotel room likely cost more than you made in a year. Needless to say, you were starting to feel out of place in the room, your hair and makeup done to perfection as you waited for your husband to arrive.

Reaching into your pocket, you slip your phone out and check for notifications. JJ was your babysitter for the night, and even though she had insisted that everything would be fine, you had never actually spent a full night away from Eleanor. You had no idea how Spencer did it time and time again for cases.

You: Everything good? JJ: Shouldn’t you be with Spencer right now? You: He’s on his way. You: Everything good?

She responds with a picture of Nell, your sweet toddler, who was seemingly too focused on the bowl of mac n cheese in front of her to even look at the camera. You type out a reply to JJ before forwarding the photo to Spencer.

JJ assured you that Eleanor would be in good care with her and Will, and it’s not that you have any doubts, it’s that she’s your baby and this is your first time being away from her.

The door to the hotel room clicks, and you set your phone on the comforter, watching as Spencer walks into the room before returning the key card to his wallet. “Hey,” you greet from the bed, crossing one leg over the other.

“Hey, honey,” he says, striding over to you before pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, “You smell nice.”

You nod in the direction of the bathroom, “I got here early and took a bath.” Slowly, you take a better look at him, “You look good, I like that suit on you.”

He holds his arms out and looks down at himself, “I heard through the grapevine that you have a fantastic dress for tonight, so I figured I needed to pull out all of the stops.” Years ago, Rossi had gotten all of the BAU men custom designer suits, that must be the one your husband had chosen to wear tonight. It was fitting, seeing as Rossi was probably fronting most of the bill for your night.

“I’ve never heard Penelope referred to as a grapevine before,” you respond in jest, getting up from the bed before you make your way to the bathroom. “She helped pick the dress,” you inform him, shedding your robe before stepping into the dress. It was a short, black velvet number that clung to the contours of your body in a way that you hadn’t thought was possible. Instead of straps, two dainty chains went over your shoulders, leaving excess dangling over your back.

Spencer clears his throat, “So, how did the drop-off go?” He missed the big goodbye, which was probably for the best.

You sigh, “Nell was great. I was a mess.” You had only been given a few days to prepare for being away from her.

Carefully pulling the chains over your shoulders, you look at yourself in the mirror before slipping your heels on and stepping out of the bathroom. Spencer was standing in front of the windows, watching the sunset over the horizon, “For what it’s worth, I had no issue with the original plan for tonight.”

Initially, you had planned to celebrate Spencer’s birthday at home with Eleanor, and there was meant to be a party with the rest of the BAU tomorrow evening. Somehow, the team had gotten the idea that the two of you needed an evening out, so they chipped in to give you just that—some members more than others.

“I’m always alright with spending quality time with my girls, but—” his voice cuts off as he turns to look at you, “Never mind.”

You chuckle, “What?” Looking down at yourself, you smooth out the front of the dress with your palms.

His eyes wander as he unabashedly checks you out, “I’m finding with every passing moment that this might be my preferred plan for the evening.” He watches attentively as you go back to sitting on the edge of the bed, fixing a twisted strap of your heel while Spencer stands directly in front of you.

“When was the last time we went out on a date?” You ask, strapping your heel around your ankle.

He hums, fake thinking about your question even though he knows the exact date, “However old Nell is, add approximately ten months,” he answers.

You look up at him, your face warming in surprise, “Has it really been that long?”

Spencer nods mournfully, “Almost three and a half years,” he sits down on the bed next to you, placing his hand on your bare thigh and swiping at the soft skin with his thumb.

Holding your hands up to your face, you glance at Spencer with wide eyes, “Oh, Spence. When did we get boring?”

“We aren’t boring,” he insists, “We have a two-year-old. We work.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “Other people do those things, and they’re not boring.”

He matches your look, “We aren’t boring,” he repeats. “Let’s make a deal,” Spencer offers, “Tonight, you and I won’t be boring.

“Right, so we’ll have a glass of wine at dinner tonight and then return to being boring tomorrow?” You say glumly, watching as he shifts on the mattress, adjusting his weight distribution.

“No,” he whispers, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips before sliding off the mattress, leaving him on his knees in front of you.

Blinking absently at him, your heart jumps at the sight of him in front of you, “You know we have dinner reservations, right?”

He gives you a slightly incredulous look, “You know it’s an open reservation, right? We have it until midnight.”

Your head bobs in acknowledgment, silently permitting him to part your knees, and you watch him come to the realization that you weren’t wearing any panties, “I didn’t want any lines to show under the dress,” you explain. There was also a part of you that hoped your evening would go in this direction.

Placing his hands on your hips, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, rolling your dress up to your waist, leaving you bare in front of him, “You’re perfect,” he breathes, “I don’t tell you that enough.” His fingers carefully prod at your core, a ghosting of pressure as he sweeps his index finger over your folds, an array of goosebumps forming over your skin.

Your breath hitches when he grips one of your thighs, placing it over his shoulder in the way he’s done numerous times before, but it always seems to take your breath away. “You tell me plenty,” you say, the sensation of his breath on your wet heat affecting you in ways you haven’t felt in ages.

“That’s not nearly enough,” he scolds himself, craning his head forward to press a kiss to your clit, chuckling when you jump as a result.

Releasing a breathy laugh, you look down at Spencer, your heart racing as you await his next move, “Then tell me again,” you whisper.

Spencer hums in response, slipping his pointer finger inside of you as he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

You let out a soft moan as his finger slowly starts moving out, taking it slowly as you lean back on your hands, careful not to mess your hair up too badly, “Spence,” you whine at the pressure.

“I know,” he tells you, “It’s been a while, huh?”

Closing your eyes, you nod quickly as he slips a second finger into your cunt, a gasp escaping your lips as your body stretches around his fingers, “It’s been too long,” you tell him, lifting one hand to your mouth and biting down on your knuckle to muffle your sounds—a habit you’d picked up since having a baby.

He hums, peering up at you through hooded eyes, “This is a honeymoon suite, angel. It’s engineered to keep sound in.”

Your hand drops obediently, falling back to the mattress as you ignore the implications of the BAU reserving the honeymoon suite for you and focusing on your husband, who was bending his neck down to suck your clit. His lips encircle the sensitive nub as you let out a low whimper, knowing what’s about to come making you apprehensively excited.

Steadily, Spencer works at you, thrusting his fingers while suckling at your clit, periodically using his tongue to apply pressure, and reveling in your high-pitched moans as he drives you closer and closer to what you’re sure will be your first of many orgasms of the night.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, moving one hand to the top of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging at the strands.

He shifts on his knees slightly, coming up for air as he adjusts the angle of his fingers inside of your cunt, going back down on you as his fingers find a new pace. They curl inside of you, targeting the spongy button that makes your abdomen tighten and your thighs tremble.

Overwhelmed, you repeat his name like a prayer while you pull at his hair, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you cry, helplessly staring at the ceiling while Spencer keeps his motions going, his fingers relentlessly thrusting into you while he sucks at your clit, encouraging your orgasm.

Your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm rips through you, your legs shaking as your husband remains buried between your legs, working you through your orgasm, “So perfect,” he pants, gently massaging your pussy as he withdraws his fingers, pressing soft, tender kisses to the insides of your thighs. “We don’t even have to go to dinner,” he says, looking at you hungrily.

You smile down at him, “We should go, Dave called in a favor to get us this reservation.”

Spencer straightens up and nods in agreement, holding his hand up to your mouth, “Open,” he says, looking satisfied when you poke your head forward, putting your lips around his two fingers and tasting yourself on them.

Sucking your own slick from his fingers, you focus on his eyes as you swirl your tongue around them, watching the dilation of his pupils because you know exactly what effect you’re having on him. He slips his fingers from your mouth before dropping a kiss on your lips, the entire exchange reminiscent of the time before you had Eleanor. You weren’t complaining.

Checking his watch, Spencer stands up straight in front of you, helping you stand, he holds onto your waist while you find your balance, “How are you feeling?”

You peer up at him through your mascara-coated eyelashes, “Most decidedly not boring,” you answer, following him into the bathroom so the two of you can clean up.

“C’mere,” Spencer beckons, looking at you from across the table. “You’re too far away,” he explains, the table at the restaurant keeping the two of you apart when you’ve already established that you want to be close tonight.

Taking your napkin off of your lap and setting it on the table, you grab your glass of wine and make your way to your husband. In the private room that had been reserved for you, “Here I am,” you present yourself to him, the privacy glass that surrounded you concealing the way his arm snaked around your waist, guiding you to his lap.

He smiles up at you, “That’s better,” he says, your legs latticed over his own.

Looking over your shoulder at the table, you hum an acknowledgment, “This table is almost comically large for two people.” You imagine it’s intended to be fancy, a long, glamorous table for a glamorous restaurant. You lean your head against Spencer’s, closing your eyes and appreciating your closeness, “Happy birthday, my love.”

“It’s not my birthday yet,” he murmurs, tipping his head back and kissing you softly, the taste of the wine that had been chosen for you was faint on his lips.

A soft giggle bubbles in your throat, “Then I’ll have to stay up until midnight so that I get to be the first one to tell you.”

Humming, Spencer settles a hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, “The real challenge there is staying up until midnight.”

“I’m sure we can think of something to keep us up,” you grin cheekily, swinging your legs. “So, before you’re officially older,” you begin, “What do you want to do with your next year of life?”

“Finish the bathroom remodel,” he answers almost immediately, referring to your main floor bathroom that had been in disarray for months. The countertop that you had chosen was still on backorder.

You raise your eyebrows, “What do you want to do that will help us on our pursuit to become less boring?”

Spencer studies your expression, taking his time before answering, “I’d like to at least discuss having another baby,” he responds.

Admittedly, it had been on your mind recently. With Kate leaving the BAU to spend time with her baby and JJ announcing she and Will were expecting, considering having a second baby wasn’t out of the realm of imagination. “You want another baby?” Your question is soft, you look at him, studying the brown eyes that he had passed down to Eleanor.

He nods, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles on your bare thigh. “I know that you’ll bear most of the responsibility if we have another baby. I’ll still be around as much as work will allow, but there’s only so much room for variables in the BAU. I wouldn’t want you to feel alone in it, but I— I’d like for Nell to have a sibling.”

“Okay,” you breathe, not needing much convincing to come to a conclusion. Admittedly, you weren’t expecting this conversation tonight, but it wasn’t a conversation you’d ever had before. Eleanor was about as much of a surprise as a baby could be.

Spencer looks surprised at your reply, “What?”

Slinging your arms around his shoulders, you shrug, “Let’s have another baby. This time next year Nell will be three, so, now almost feels like a perfect time.”

“It takes most couples months to conceive when they’re trying,” Spencer tells you, “Only about thirty percent conceive in the first three months.”

You raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “How long does it take couples who have a luxury hotel room to themselves for the night?” Your loaded question easily slides off your tongue as you lift your hand to his chest, thumbing the silk fabric of his tie while you wait for his answer.

He led the way to the hotel room, luckily the hotel and restaurant were connected; you would’ve hated for a cab driver to see you dazedly staring at your husband with the promise of what comes next.

Pulling his keycard from his wallet, Spencer pushes the door open, dragging you in behind him before pressing you up against the wall. You shove at the lapels of his jacket, trying to get it off of him.

Haphazardly, you drop pieces on the floor, Spencer’s jacket, your heels, his tie, everything falling away as the two of you stumble to the bed. You yelp when you fall back onto the bed, Spencer catches himself above you and a fit of giggles erupts from your mouth. A sort of light, airy feeling goes through your head while you’re beneath him, the freeing feeling of knowing you’re about to have sex and you don’t have to worry about your toddler knocking on your door was overwhelming.

You kiss him while fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt, pulling the white fabric from where it was tucked before discarding that as well. “Wait,” you say breathlessly.

Spencer sits up, panting as he looks down at you, “What is it?” He asks, eyes searching for something wrong.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, “I bought lingerie for tonight,” you tell him, eyes flickering over to your overnight bag. The blue, lacy set was calling your name.

Hovering back over you, Spencer bows his head and presses a soft, unhurried kiss to your lips, “Show me later?”

Nodding, you watch him as he pulls his undershirt off, another bundle of fabric lost to the ground. Gently, you push at him, making it so his back is on the mattress as you place one knee on either side of his waist.

His hands tug at the hem of your dress, ruching the fabric around your waist as you slowly grind your hips over his. “Fuck, baby,” he hisses, already tightly wound after your earlier activities.

Understanding, you start to leave a trail of kisses down his chest, continuing to go lower until you’re unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly, placing your hand over his already hard cock and palming him on top of his briefs, “You’re so hard,” you moan, your mind thinking ahead to when he’ll inevitably fuck you.

In the interim, you tug his pants and briefs halfway down his thighs, leaving his length standing at attention for only a moment before you duck your head, licking a long stripe up the veiny underside of his cock. Spencer’s hips buck up from the mattress in response, and you take him in your mouth, using your hand to touch what you can’t fit in your mouth.

Pressing your tongue flat against the head, you moan with him in your mouth when he grabs a fistful of your hair. You were no longer worried about your appearance, only about driving him as crazy as possible.

“Angel,” he says, his voice strained, “I can’t— I need to be in you.”

You lift your head, moving back up to him and straddling his hips again, placing your bare pussy on top of his hard cock. Wiping drool from the corner of your mouth, you raise your eyebrows at Spencer, “Are you ready?”

He nods, mouth falling open when you lift yourself up and position his length at your entrance, “Oh, wow,” he breathes, gently rubbing at your clit as you ease yourself onto him, your walls throbbing around him. His hand settles on your hip as you take a moment to adjust.

Pulling at your dress, you tug it over your head, leaving it on the floor of the hotel room, “Ah,” you sigh, rolling your hips slightly to try and help your body adjust.

“Absolutely no lingerie necessary,” he says, his eyes studying your body as if he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. “I’m so thankful for you, my girl,” he murmurs with lust-hooded eyes.

You hum in response, bending at the hips to put your lips on his, a whimper escaping your lips when his hips buck up from the mattress again, “Fuck, call me that again.”

“My girl,” he echoes, thrusting up into you again. “I’m not going to last very long,” he admits, groaning as you start to lift yourself up and down on his cock.

Small whines come from your lips with every movement, you shake your head, “That’s okay, we can…” your voice trails off, “I don’t think I will either.” The admission comes as a bit of a surprise to yourself, you hadn’t realized you had gotten so worked up.

Snaking his hand between your bodies, Spencer focuses his attention on getting you to your second orgasm as your movements grow unsteady, “You’re doing so well,” Spencer encourages you, knowing you aren’t usually on top.

“Shit, Spence,” you gasp, your resolve failing as your torso drops forward, giving him the freedom to continue lifting his hips up into you, “Oh,” your cunt clenches down around him, “I’m cumming,” you tell him, burying your face in his chest as you cry out. His thrusts start to overstimulate you as he chases his own orgasm, and eventually his movements falter.

You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside of you as his hot cum fills you, a tired sigh as his rigid body relaxes back into the mattress, “Oh, my girl,” he whispers, smoothing your hair back as you catch your breath on top of him, “Why don’t you stay up here for a little bit?”

Nodding, you look up at him, a pink flush splattered across his face as you watch him, “I love you,” you breathe, glancing at the clock, “Happy birthday.”

Spencer spares a glance at the clock, three minutes past midnight, “I love you too, angel. Thank you.”

You sigh, lifting yourself on shaky arms and grabbing a box from his bedside table, “This is for you.”

He releases a breathy laugh, obviously amused at the idea of opening a birthday gift while he’s still buried inside of you, “I got you something too,” he admits, sweeping a strand of hair from your face.

Tilting your head to the side, you frown, “It’s not my birthday.”

Shaking his head, Spencer agrees with you, “No, but I find I can’t resist giving you gifts.”

You inhale sharply when he twists to open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a rectangular box and resting it next to him so he can start to open the gift from you.

“Oh, honey,” he says, opening the watch box. His old one had a damaged mechanism and needed to be replaced, but it wasn’t something he was likely to spend the money on for himself. Naturally, you did it for him.

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s engraved,” you explain. Watching him take the watch out of the box and look at the back, the dates that you had carved in being significant markers in your relationship. Your wedding anniversary. The date Eleanor was born. There was plenty of space to add more dates too, should the time come.

“It’s perfect,” he tells you, placing the watch back in the box to keep it safe, “Thank you,” he says, shifting under you as he reaches for the box.

Rolling your eyes, you accept the box anyways, “Now, why would you get me a gift for your birthday,” you tut, undoing the ribbon on the box before opening it. “Oh,” you breathe, “Oh, Spence,” you say, tears pricking your eyes.

Inside of the box was a necklace, and strung on the dainty chain was a teardrop-shaped sapphire. “It’s Eleanor’s birthstone,” he explains, “I saw it last time Penelope dragged me to the mall with her, and I thought it was perfect for you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, moving to fasten it around your neck, the only other thing adoring your body being your wedding ring. You grin at your husband as you duck down to press a kiss to his lips, half-conscious of the way he’s kicking his pants off until he’s flipped you onto your back.

He hums as you moan, “You’re beautiful. You’re so, so beautiful,” he muses, burying his face in your neck and placing soft kisses along the column of your throat.

Opening your legs more, you invite him to come closer into you, “I would have agreed to have another baby a long time ago had I known I’d be treated so well,” you tease him gently, gasping as his lips attach to your breast, littering kisses all over you.

“I always treat you well,” he insists, taking a tentative thrust into you before taking you into his arms.

You whimper softly at the pressure on your pussy, “Spence,” you sigh, your sensitive cunt clenching around his cock. “Oh, god yes,” you mutter as he begins to find a pace, pressing his full length into you.

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “I know baby,” he says, sticking to his rhythm and pushing your legs open wider, “I’ve got you.”

A curse falls from your lips as you screw your eyes shut, tilting your head back and gasping at the sensation, “I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you too,” he says, equally out of breath with you as he fucks into you with abandon, chasing a new high as you dig your nails into his back. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he hisses, “I’m gonna cum in you,” he warns, snapping his hips to yours.

A high-pitched moan comes from you as he paints your insides with his cum, the sensation of him filling you leading you to your third orgasm of the night as your walls pulse around him.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, waiting for someone to catch their breath as your eyes go wide. “Are you alright?” Spencer’s the first to speak, carefully pulling out of you and chuckling lightly when you whine at the empty feeling.

Nodding, you turn your head to the side, “Yeah, are you?”

He smiles, “I think this might be the least boring birthday I’ve ever had.”

[adispit]

‘Sweet thing’

Hare! original character x bunny! male reader

warnings: predator prey dynamic,humping, overstim, mind break (kinda), breeding, slight dubcon, naive innocent reader, size kink, scent kink, creampie

notes: this idea has been stuck in my head for too long lmfao I rly went down the rabbit hole writing this 💀

You were a sweet thing, a bunny bred to be docile and kept at home like the naive creature you were! Your owner was extremely protective, never allowing you to go out and always pampering you with treats and pets!! You were the perfect house pet. However, always being at home was so boring and dull. Sure, being fawned over by your owner was always enjoyable but you wanted to be like other bunnies! Why shouldn’t a grown-up bunny like you also be able to go out and explore the huge world? All you had was a small town where you and your owner lived in, nearby meadows. There were so many delicacies you hadn’t tried yet, like wild carrots or apples! All the food you had at home were just leafy greens and pellets…so you had to formulate a plan immediately!! Sure, your owner might be a tad bit worried or maybe even disappointed but you would just go for a quick trip into the meadows nearby, only a few hours you swore!

Hence, your plan began. No better time to slip out when your owner was busy at work. Full of excitement and anticipation, you quickly jumped out of the window onto the pavement. The fields were so close! You quickly hopped your way to the meadows where the other bunnies promised there would be the precious apples and food you had dreamed about. Hungry and ecstatic, you finally arrived but the delicious food that was spoken about was nowhere in sight… you were starving! Maybe this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have gone out, your owner was going to be so angry… Not only was the pristine and white fur they loved so much now dirtied, you were a disobedient bunny who ran away because you were too greedy…

Tears began to form in your eyes as you thought about the disappointment in their eyes and how they probably wouldn’t love such a naughty bunny anymore… You were such a silly thing, knowing nothing of the world and yet you still wanted to explore! Hours went by, and you grew tired of wallowing in your misery, it was night now anyways, it was time to finally go home even if your owner would be unhappy. At least you had a roof and a warm bed to sleep in! Trudging through the tall grass, you tried to retrace the steps you took but it was too dark. The inky darkness filled your vision as panic began to fill your heart. How were you supposed to go home now?! Oh no…you could feel the waterworks starting again. However before you could even burst into tears, your ears picked up rustling in the grass behind you.

Without a single thought left in your brain, you immediately darted in the opposite direction of whatever monster was stalking you in the night. Fear clouded your senses as you felt a shiver go down your spine. What horrors were hidden in the night? You didn’t want to know! You really should have stayed home but now there whatever was hunting you! Unfortunately you began to tire, your hunger and outbursts having sapped your energy, but you could still hear the loud thumps of whatever chasing you get closer and closer, their hot breath on your nape. Your pace slowed and the creature tackled you. Clenching your eyes shut, you willed yourself still and accepted your fate.

You could feel something caress your cheek. “Open your eyes bunny.” A domineering voice commanded you and you meekly peeked one eye out to see a massive hare over your form. He was huge! Both in muscle and size, he overwhelmed your tiny body. You didn’t stand a single chance against him. “What d-do you want, Mister Hare… I-I just want to go home..” you trembled, the stutters in your voice unable to hide your fear. A low chuckle reverberated from him, “Oh you naive thing, I just want to eat you up. You’ve been in my territory since afternoon and emitting that sweet scent. A tiny creature like you should be protected but you just happened to chance upon me, what a pity.” Hearing his words, your suspicions were further confirmed. You were never getting home and a big bad hare now wanted to eat you. You went slack, what could you even do now… “O-okay, Mr Hare, just make it quick… I don’t want to be eaten painfully and slowly…” you were ready, this would be how you went…

“You misunderstood me bunny. I’m not eating you up literally, I’m going to breed you so you reek of me all over like my property.” Confusion filled your face but not long before you felt him grind against your pelvis. Oh. He meant that… Forgetting your initial terror, you immediately flushed red. You had never done this before..and your owner forbid it, saying something along the lines of “I’m not ready to be a father”. Wait, but you were both males, how could you both mate?! Your obvious inexperience and bewilderment must have been evident because Mr Hare laughed again. “It doesn’t matter if you’re male, there’s still a hole, you silly thing.” He grunted. Not waiting for your reply, he hoisted you onto his lap, the curve of your ass now rubbing against his huge bulge.

You could feel the copious amounts of precum wet the thin shorts your owner had insisted on giving you for the sake of “propriety” and yep there they went, as Mr Hare ripped them off. A whimper escaped you as the friction of his cock rubbing against your perineum sent sensations you had never felt before running through your body. “Uagh-?!” A surprised moan ripped from your throat as you could feel something thick fill your hole. His fingers were in you! You felt his fingers graze something in you that made you clutch at his shoulders in a fit of pleasure. A knowing smirk appeared on his face and he repeatedly jabbed at the spot, “I found your prostrate.” He snickered.

“N-nng- ah! T-too much!!” You keened as you buried your face in his shoulders, your body spasming at his relentless teasing of your prostrate. Shortly after, a loud sob left you as your cock squirted all over your stomach, leaving you limp. “Can’t have you weak before I breed you bunny.” Mr Hare clamoured as he left a chaste kiss on your lips, a sharp contrast to his rough man handling. Pushing you into a mating press, the head of his throbbing dick pushed at your weakly twitching rim. Glancing down at his cock, terror filled you at the size of his dick, that was monstrous!! “N-no, wait it won’t f- AGH” Before you could protest, he sharply thrusted into you as you wailed out in shock at the sudden intrusion.

Growling, the hare left no chance for you to complain as he snapped his hips against yours repeatedly like he was a man possessed. “You really are so tiny, look at your small excuse of a cock bunny…you deserve a good breeding..” he teased as his cock plunged into you. Endless whines left you as the onslaught of pleasure left you orgasming over and over again. You could only weep as Mr Hare painted your insides white without an end in sight. “P-please sir, it’s too m-mu-much!” You pleaded but your pleas for him to stop fell on deaf ears. “Gh- just gotta give you one more load one more bunny, gotta make you full of my cum.” He murmured as he grasped at your waist tightly. Oh that was sure to bruise tomorrow. Teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, you could only mindlessly mewl in response as another dry orgasm wracked your body.

The sun was rising and you were a sight to be seen. Eyes rolled in a dry orgasm as you unconsciously grinded back on the hare pistoning away at you, a mess in your own bodily fluids and the semen dripping from your abused hole. Unable to take anymore abuse, you blacked out and before you slipped into the welcome embrace of the darkness, you could feel yourself getting cradled and picked up and a kiss pressed to your dry lips.

You were definitely never gonna go out again.

note: why does no one ever talk about how hard it is to write smut OMG 😭😭 I legit spent an hour stressing over what to write so it sounded stimulating enough and legit 😞 anyways take this pathetic piece pls have mercy lol its like my first time writing smut (despite the fact I read smut 😭🙏)

Reblogs are appreciated :) if you want a part 2 lmk!

Pt 2 is here : Mates (Sweet Thing Pt.2)

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: You're back home right when Azriel was starting to lose all hope, but is the person standing in front of him the same who disappeared all those years ago?

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @less-chaotic-brain @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx

(for some reason I couldn't tag some of you. check your settings because you might have tags disabled)

[sincerelyneo]

omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore

its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖

ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3

arcade | p.js

“i’m out of control, full power up”

💿now playing: arcade by nct dream

❯ summary: Jisung���s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.

❯ words: 3.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???

"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"

You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.

"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.

“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”

You may have lied to him about that.

When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.

So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.

But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.

And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.

"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Pretty please!”

You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.

"Fine."

He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.

There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.

Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.

“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”

He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.

“How about we play some pinball?

"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”

“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.

“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.

“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.

He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.

You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.

“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.

“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."

Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.

"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."

It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.

Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.

"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.

You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.

"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."

As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.

But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.

The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.

You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.

After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.

He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.

You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.

“Just look at the camera and smile."

Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.

"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”

You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.

Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.

You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."

Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.

“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.

But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"

Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.

Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.

But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.

"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."

The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.

When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.

He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.

“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”

“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"

If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.

You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.

Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.

"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.

You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"

He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.

"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"

“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”

He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."

"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.

"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.

And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.

“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”

Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.

"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.

"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"

You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.

"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.

"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.

Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.

"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.

As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.

"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."

You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."

Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.

A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.

"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.

You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.

For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.

"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,

You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."

He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.

He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.

When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.

"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”

Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.

You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.

He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.

That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.

"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.

He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.

"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”

All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.

The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.

As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.

The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.

Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.

Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.

“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."

Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.

"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.

"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”

"Later?" You ask.

Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”

He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.

"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"

Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”

He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.

"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."

You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."

"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.

[dolliethv]

One Of The Girls.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! Hiii, this is a pretty TO long story, I wanted to write something with a lot of sexual tension and a lot of smut, read it calmly and I hope you enjoy it xoxo!!

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 6k

You weren't sure if attending Jude's party was a good idea, but something inside you—maybe the excitement of Halloween and the thought of celebrating with your group of friends, or perhaps the hope of seeing him—convinced you. Jude's huge, new house in Madrid, decorated with lit pumpkins and fake cobwebs, gleamed in the distance, full of people already enjoying the night.

You stepped inside, and strobe lights danced on the walls, while laughter and music filled the air. You grabbed a drink as you passed by the improvised bar, trying to relax. You hadn’t taken more than two steps when you felt that familiar gaze tracing your body. You slowly turned, and there he was, Jude, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed solely on you.

You wished the ground would swallow you because your damn group of friends was headed straight toward Jude Bellingham’s group. Of course, they all knew each other.

After your friends had chatted enough with the other group, you decided to take the lead.

"Couldn’t you put a little more effort into your costume?" That was the first thing you asked when you finally looked him in the eyes for the first time that night.

Curious about what he was actually dressed as?

Seriously? A simple cop uniform? You could bet your life on the fact that men have zero originality—they always go for the easy option. Lord, give me patience.

You absolutely hated basic Halloween costumes. Anything that took less than ten minutes and minimal effort didn’t deserve attention. It might seem a bit over the top, but given the number of creative ideas this particular holiday offered, you just couldn’t stand it.

Not when you even designed and made your own costume for the occasion.

But it was funny how quickly Jude changed your mind.

Basic is good. Basic is great. Damn it.

"What’s your costume supposed to be, anyway?" Jude continued, his voice calm but his body still a bit tense.

"It’s Suki from Fast and Furious!" Drew, one of Jude’s friends, shouted loud enough that the music barely muffled it.

He wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant staring, but truthfully, neither of you cared. You turned and headed off with your friends to who knows where.

You knew you looked good. You’d worked particularly hard on your outfit for tonight, so you had no reason to hide. Everything was perfectly planned, from head to toe.

Minutes passed, and you tried to convince yourself there was no reason to panic, but there were a lot of people, and your outfit was a bit too revealing. So, when you felt hands around your waist, you were ready to scream for whoever it was to back off.

"It's me."

Oh my God, you almost had a heart attack.

Jude pulled you against him, your back pressed to his chest, his left hand settling on your hip while his right extended around your shoulder to not-so-gently push people aside. The tall, dark-haired boy didn’t take long to start moving you both, making space with his prominent frame when people were too slow to get out of the way, shoving them until he cleared a path for both of you.

Stupid party, stupid Jude Bellingham. It was his fault you ended up there anyway. Jude may not have seen your face, but he definitely felt how tense you were in his arms.

"Why the bad attitude?"

Bad attitude? You didn’t know much about attitudes, but all your limited knowledge vanished when he pulled you even closer.

You cleared your throat briefly, your words followed by a slight shake of your head.

"Am I the one with the bad attitude?" you replied.

Because truthfully, you’d been on your best behavior since you got to that house. Or at least trying.

Jude loved driving you crazy; he thought you looked damn adorable acting tough at barely 5'1".

"By the way, you look amazing."

It was a great move, saying something so flattering to ease the tension.

"Thanks," you murmured, not caring whether he heard, your eyes glued to the back of the guy Jude was elbowing out of the way.

Two stomped-on feet and a "Are you gonna move or what the hell are you waiting for?" later, you were finally out of the chaos.

Well, as far out of danger as you could be at a party and in a house full of mostly strangers.

However, Jude didn’t stop there. He guided you to what you vaguely recognized as the first hallway on the right, his hands never leaving your body. It wasn’t unpleasant for you, not at all, but you both drew more than a few curious stares. It didn’t bother you much now that your closest friends knew. Other people’s opinions of you were never the most positive anyway, but you were surprised at how little Jude seemed to care, considering it was his house.

When you finally stopped, you found yourselves where you’d suspected a few moments earlier, slightly sheltered from the loud music. There were a few other people around, but they were far enough away not to intrude on your conversation.

Jude released you a few seconds before turning you around and wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close as he leaned against the wall.

"I like your hairstyle; it’s cute," he said, grabbing a lock of your hair between his fingers. "Scratch that. Actually, I love how sexy you look with your hair down."

You were starting to seriously regret the day you told Jude you wouldn’t mind being complimented daily because it was getting out of hand.

How were you supposed to function properly when Jude kept looking at you with dark eyes?

You swallowed hard, shifting your gaze to the side of his face to avoid dealing with the intensity of his stare. You needed to say something and had to do it now.

"People were staring at us."

Of course, your voice trembled, and of course, out of all the things you could’ve said, you picked the one with the most potential to ruin the moment.

Jude was being very open tonight, and while you didn’t dislike it, it was new and somehow made him even more intimidating. All you could focus on was trying to stay afloat, despite involuntarily melting into the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his voice.

"When you look like that, baby, of course, people are going to stare."

You were getting nervous so quickly that it was unreasonable. Your breathing was already picking up, and butterflies were fluttering, one by one, to the point that you could no longer distinguish between those in your heart and those in your stomach.

This was exactly why you shouldn’t stay away from Jude for too long.

"News travels fast, Bellingham. Especially when you’re the footballer of the moment."

But with Jude, you didn’t have to worry. Jude could take care of both of you, and maybe you shouldn’t trust him, but God, it felt so good to be protected.

You desperately wanted to kiss him. Every brush of his thumb against your skin was electrifying. You needed to be closer, needed more, and this time, it had nothing to do with lust.

It was the kind of need you hadn’t felt before, the kind that demanded an exchange of feelings, even if not through words. Even if you tore off your clothes and pressed skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, it wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to be inside Jude’s mind, to share all his thoughts, to experience the unknown, to finally understand each other, but you were too scared.

You couldn’t get there just yet.

"Your costume is stupid," you finally said, your voice coming out a bit more determined.

Jude’s lips curled into a smile, which quickly turned into a laugh that disappeared just as fast, but it was definitely something worth remembering.

"You’re so good at flirting," he purred sarcastically. "Tell me more."

You thought you might be able to keep a straight face, but as soon as you saw him smile, you followed. There was something so addictive about it, maybe the fact that you didn’t see it often, but it definitely made Jude ten times more attractive.

And he was already too attractive to begin with. God.

"It really is stupid," you confirmed your own thoughts, your fingers trailing up to fix the collar of Jude’s cop uniform. "But you look so sexy. I don’t know why I’m so into this kind of stuff."

You knew you weren’t the only one. It’s not for nothing that women love men in uniform.

"You don’t like the uniforms; you like the authority behind them. Or should I say, you’re afraid of it?"

Even though you had the same smile, Jude looked completely different, but he was right. You always felt uneasy around any kind of authority figure.

Watching Jude—with the quite noticeable height and body size difference compared to you, with the sleeves of his uniform stretching around his biceps every time he moved—you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling a bit nervous.

And to top it all off, a pair of very real-looking handcuffs hung from his belt.

So yeah, you gave up your principles about liking the basic for one night, but Jude had chosen a really good costume to spark your imagination.

"Honestly..." Jude grabbed your chin and pulled you even closer, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I wouldn’t mind being a cop if it meant I could make pretty things like you tremble."

As if he needed to be a cop to do that. Idiot.

As if you didn’t already find him intimidating enough without the costume. As if your knees didn’t buckle and your body didn’t heat up every time Jude looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds.

"I think that’d be an abuse of power."

Very socially aware of you, but it might be more believable if you stopped looking at him like you wanted him to take advantage of you. You know it's wrong to think that.

Jude hummed, sliding his thumb over your lower lip before pressing it and pulling it down. The movement was so sudden it made you hiss. It was almost embarrassing how willing you were for Jude to do whatever he wanted, to play with your body however he pleased, without questioning the reason.

"It isn’t if you enjoy it."

Their heads tilted to opposite sides, moving closer with lips tingling from the desire to kiss. You could feel Jude exhale before gently pressing his body against yours and brushing his mouth against yours when—

"Bellingham!"

Both grimaced, and you quickly jumped back, your hands starting to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes. You didn’t turn around or look at Jude; you didn’t want to know if someone had really seen you and didn’t want to deal with it.

Jude’s friends weren’t the type of people he enjoyed talking to, so it would be weird to find yourself in a situation where you had to pretend to be a bit interested in what they had to say.

"Oh, hey," Jude responded with much less enthusiasm as the sound of footsteps grew louder.

"Good party, man."

You recognized the characteristically deep voice and immediately tried to move a little further from the sound. You opted to take the empty space next to Jude, and to avoid seeming rude, you looked up, meeting Trent Alexander’s eyes before giving a small nod in his direction. The man nodded back with a shy smile resting on your lips.

"Hey y/n, you look great!!" He said.

"Thanks."

You knew him, or at least you knew who Alexander was. In your defense, you knew all the people in your circle of unfortunately extroverted friends. You knew he was a guy with too much money, another footballer, not surprisingly—very attractive—and also much kinder than many other rich and attractive people.

However, you started to feel anxious.

Alexander didn’t seem to notice your discomfort, even after greeting you. But then the guy lowered his gaze, not going below the level of your skirt, but enough to make you wonder— is this guy checking me out?—God, men are all so bold.

Suddenly, Bellingham cleared his throat, subtly but enough to move you a little out of Trent’s view.

Oh, okay.

"Sorry to bother you, but my friend here won’t stop saying she wants to meet the great Jude Bellingham."

Unaware of the presence of someone else before, you moved your gaze to Trent, where a model-like tall girl was giving all her attention to Jude.

You were annoyed by how attractive she was. You couldn’t imagine how she looked in Jude’s eyes. You weren’t a fan of the cliché thought of hating other women over men, but damn, this feeling was hard to handle.

"Can you blame me? He looks even better than I imagined," she said loudly.

Then you looked at how that girl was dressed.

She was obviously someone very bold, and you were all for female empowerment, but if she came any closer to Jude, you’d have to break her neck.

If Jude hadn’t noticed her before, he definitely was now, shamelessly scanning her figure until stopping on her chest a bit longer than necessary. When he looked back at her face, he gave her a playful smile.

"She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. My kind of girl."

Sorry, what? His type of what? Is he really giving me a hint?

A fake and shy smile spread across the unknown girl’s face as she tilted her head slightly and flipped her hair back, exposing more of her neck and collarbones.

"Oh, yeah?" She asked, her voice interrupted by laughter. "What else is your type?"

Me?

The girl started tracing circles with her index finger over the lower part of her collarbone before dragging it down, outlining the beginning of her breasts. They were quite exposed; it was hard not to notice them, but there was no worse way Jude could handle it than staring at them, his expression not hiding what he was thinking.

Bellingham took a step towards her, immediately placing his right hand on her hip without gripping it, just touching a bit, while moving to whisper something in her ear.

There was absolutely no damn way Jude was doing this in front of you, there must be some kind of reality error. No fucking way, you were really holding yourself back from pulling him away from her and giving him a beating.

Once the brunette straightened up, they were both smiling, and you couldn’t hear it, but you read it from the girl’s lips.

"I got lucky tonight."

Well, you had never considered yourself a crazy person, or at least not one who acted out of her mind with no regard for social norms.

Nevertheless, at that moment, you could barely stand.

You had no doubt about it anymore; it was too strong not to recognize, too powerful to ignore. You were jealous, so jealous that all you could think about was violence and all you could see was red.

"I’m leaving," Alexander suddenly said, visibly uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged.

You didn’t even have time to thank him mentally before the girl grabbed his arm as if her life depended on it, sweetly smiling at Jungkook and saying:

"I’ll be waiting."

And with that, they left.

The crowd made them disappear in less than a minute, leaving no trace. All you could focus on now was the unshakable smile on Jude’s face.

You despised him.

None of this was part of the plan.

Jude’s plan was to keep you without sex for a while, make you show how much you missed him, make you feel so needy that you’d give in to anything in seconds. Bellingham thought nothing could compare to the feeling he’d have once he saw your desperation, the ease with which he’d let you go, giving him the upper hand in the situation.

He was wrong.

Something better than a proud version of you was a version willing to admit, to admit that you were jealous, and he made you realize it after this little outburst.

"Where were we?" He asked as if nothing had happened, his attention slowly returning to you, clearly displeased at his side.

-I might have overstepped a bit- you thought. Relax.

Since Jude did everything he could to avoid giving you more than a glance while talking to that girl, wanting to make it as real as possible, he was enjoying watching your reaction.

You stared defiantly at the wall opposite them, obviously trying to transfer all your anger to her instead of Jude.

Seeing you cute probably wasn’t what you was looking for, but Jude found it absolutely adorable.

"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" He gently brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his voice laced with false concern.

"No."

It wasn’t a very convincing lie with your teeth clenched and a blank expression on your face.

"Mm, I think it is."

"Good for you."

Jude had to stifle a satisfied smile. The way you responded with the first thing that came to your mind showed you weren’t thinking much before speaking.

"Not in the mood for a conversation anymore?"

You closed your eyes.

But you couldn’t do that, not when it was exactly what you wanted to do. He couldn’t be the first to break, admit his lust, show that he wanted to be with you so much that he’d trample his pride.

Not again.

“You know, I never took you for a jerk who got jealous so easily.”

If it were physically possible, your jaw would be hitting the floor. The air caught in your throat and your lips hung oddly open as you looked at Jude and found the lack of concern on his features.

Being honest was the easiest way to get through to him.

“How dare you?” You asked offended, pushing Jude away as hard as you could.

His balance seemed to falter as you failed to move him an inch, but he did successfully sway on his two feet, before Jude grabbed your wrists.

“How dare I what?” He asked you with an amused smirk. “Does she make you jealous? I was just having a conversation, babe.”

“No, not that.” You finished your statement with an irritated groan, violently breaking free from his hold. “You’re an idiot. Go have a conversation then.”

“Should I?”

The look you gave him only said one thing. “I fucking dare you.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You didn’t look at her face even once.”

Well, if it wasn’t obvious, you screwed up. The chances of her living without Bellingham mentioning what you wanted him to not notice were now basically non-existent.

“She didn’t put that on so I would look at her face.”

You had never looked so angry, your head shaking in disbelief and fists clenched on either side of your body. You looked like you were really struggling not to slap him and Jude couldn’t blame you. That was the point, after all.

“Oh, wow.”

He was already on his way to calming her down, his hands reaching for your waist, when you raised his in defense.

“Don’t touch me.”

You even pointed with your index finger in warning, wagging it when Jude didn’t stop.

“I’m not joking, I’ll slap you, don’t touch me- mhppm-”

With one hand around your waist and the other pressing against your jaw, Jude had you backed up against the wall in no time. Despite your earlier threats and your bad mood, you surrendered into his arms quickly, melting into the touch, your soft moans being muffled by Jude’s mouth. The longer it went on, the more eager you became, tugging at his uniform, trying to pull him closer despite your bodies already being together.

When he pulled away, you were a mess. It was being a fight for him to refuse your touch.

“We can go to my room…”

He whispered against you, before moving lower.

“Talk…”

He pressed a kiss against your chin

“I’ll make you laugh…”

And then one on the side of your jaw

“I can make you cum…”

You shuddered at the proposal.

You both knew he wanted it, that was not in doubt. The question was how far he would go to get it.

“You will have my full attention.” With sarcasm.

Another kiss, just below your ear.

“All you need to do is ask.” He made sure you were looking at each other when he spoke, eager to see your reaction. “Tell me you don’t want to see me with someone else.”

You noticed how your body completely gave out, all hope in your eyes. Your excitement was replaced with panic as your pupils dilated and your mouth opened and closed without saying a word.

The offer was so tempting, the promise so real, so possible. I hate it.

You wanted it so badly, but it was a matter of pride and even though you were the prouder of the two of you, it was clear that you still had a hard time taking a step back from him.

“If I need to ask for attention, then I don’t want it.” You replied with a dry tone.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Your jaw clenched at the implication. You knew it.

With the girl dressed in a bad porn nurse costume.

(...)

“Can you stop looking at him? I’m talking to you.”

The words of Odessa, your best friend, barely reached your ears, your thoughts overwhelming you in an almost pleasurable way.

You watched as Jude’s hand wrapped around an unfamiliar waist for the umpteenth time that night, causing your own fingers to grip your knee tightly.

This time it was a redhead, dressed in something that was more meant to cover the most private parts of her body than disguise, but who were you to judge? Right?

There was clearly a set pattern that you noticed during the time you spent sitting, gaping and staring in Bellingham’s direction. People would come up to say hello, most often women, their hands touching as much as they could without being inappropriate and a few minutes after sharing a few words they would come over with eyes fluttering in a way that could only mean one thing.

The first few times it happened, your heart nearly stopped beating. You were sure you knew what was about to happen next- Jude would take her by the hand and lead her to his bedroom.

But it didn’t happen. Not with the curly-haired brunette, not with the six-foot-eight leggy blonde, not with the one he was feasting on now.

Is he not interested? You asked yourself.

A raspy growl rumbled somewhere deep in your throat before you grabbed your glass and clumsily emptied it down your throat, not caring how the liquid spilled from the corners of your lips and down your chin.

You called out to your friends, as you abruptly stood up, almost tripping over someone sitting between them.

“Let’s dance.”

Your lips formed a smile at the thought of Jude seeing you with someone else. It was childish, yes, but you didn't really care.

You were about to execute your plan, but when you turned around, you found nothing worth your attention. The spot Jude was occupying all this time now had other people in it, no sign of the brunette in sight.

You wished you could say that it didn’t affect you.

So you turned your back on your friends and walked in the opposite direction, your newly gained good mood now ruined. You thought maybe if Jude admitted to being jealous, you could too. It would make it less embarrassing.

If Jude was here, surely he could get something better.

Yes, if Jude was here. If he wasn't fucking someone else.

"Having fun?"

A familiar voice reached your ears, close enough to feel the vibration of the sound, making you shiver, thanking God the place was too dark for anyone to notice as Bellingham's proximity made your entire body shake.

You kept your eyes on the empty glass in front of you not quite sure how you were going to respond with his mood.

Any words or actions from you from now on could be detrimental.

"Don't you want to talk to me?"

Silence.

"Okay, I'll go then."

Jude didn't even move. He didn't pull away, nor did he lean back. He stood right where he was five seconds ago, the same annoyed, mocking smile on his features.

"You're still not jealous?"

You weren't just jealous, you were seething with it.

"I am, actually. Tell anyone and I'll make sure it's the last thing that comes out of your mouth."

Admitting jealousy was a big deal for you, especially since you didn't know if Jude felt the same way. Also knowing what was coming after this.

"There's not much that can brighten my mood right now."you entered the room, "I just needed courage for what I'm about to do." locking it once the door was closed.

When you turned around, your eyes met and Jude felt something he hadn't felt in a while, it felt like he didn't really know anything about you.

He wasn't blind to the progress you'd made in the different areas of your relationship, but there was still a lot left to say, explain, discover, and - in a situation like this, when you seemed to be a completely different person - he was surprised at how much he still had to get to know you.

"Yeah? And can I know what it is?"

He longed to feel you again on other parts of his body and even more so when your hot mouth landed on his mouth as you said-

"Punish you."

It wasn't that it hadn't crossed Jude's mind that you might do something like this all night, but still, hearing you out loud was enough to bring a smug smile to his lips.

"Oh, really?"

It would be a lie to say you didn't find it fun.

Things were definitely taking a different turn than he had planned, but then again, ever since the party started, all of his plans were ruined, so he was surprisingly not opposed to the idea.

He was actually very intrigued.

You hummed in agreement and within seconds your hands were back on Jude's body, this time being bolder and freer with your movements.

It was the first proper touch that night and Bellingham thought he was ready, but he really had no idea how much he had missed this until he experienced it again. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the feel of your palms and the heaviness of your fingers prevented him from doing so.

Your hands moved in opposite directions, one sliding down his abdomen and the other circling the side of his neck. With the pad of your thumb, you traced circles on his skin, massaging and releasing some of the tension.

He had a hard time trying to keep from getting an erection from the moment he laid eyes on you when you arrived. Now... now it was impossible.

"You know..." you started saying.

Jude heard your whisper, but could barely register it due to the heat that was beginning to creep steadily down his body, fading only for a moment when his belt got in the way, but then coming back stronger, with a grip more powerful than before. Bellingham would be ashamed to admit that his breath hitched as soon as he felt you where he wanted it most.

“I’d rather have these for myself, but you left me no choice.”

It all clicked, both metaphorically and literally, in his brain and out loud, but Jude couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.

The handcuffs were already dangling from the tip of your index finger as you swung them teasingly back and forth in front of his face.

Oh. Interesting.

The way you could overpower Jude in a mere second was wonderful.

“What makes you think I’m going to let you do that?”

You pursed your lips briefly as if contemplating his answer.

“And what makes you think I’m going to ask for your permission?” You replied.

“Maybe that drink was too much after all,” he looked at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’re confusing roles.”

Judging by his expression, you didn’t share the same opinion.

You pushed him until the back of his knees hit the bed.

Jude didn’t stop you or object, instead sitting on the edge as he was pushed down, curious to see how things would play out.

“Are you threatening me, baby?” He asked, leaning back on his forearms.

You looked perfect from every angle, she was so sure of it now.

Your free hand gripping Jude’s jaw and squeezing it a little in annoyance.

“My name isn't ‘baby’.”

You slid your fingers down the side of Bellingham's throat where the smear of a lipstick still rested on his skin.

As you stared into each other's eyes, you looked so angry that Jude couldn't help the heat spreading throughout his insides.

"Wouldn't that make you even more angry, baby?" He emphasized on the nickname on purpose, arching an eyebrow mockingly.

The sound that came out of your throat was quiet, but he didn't miss it.

-Even her grunts are cute.-

"Shut the fuck up."

It was clear that you weren't usually the type to get angry to that extent, and even if you had been, you were the type to never act on it.

"Keep your hands behind your back if you don't want to lose your most prized possession."

You felt it before you understood it - a pressure of something hard and unfamiliar against your crotch. Something unwanted.

And it came, a sign. Not too big, not too flashy, not too obvious, but painful and threatening.

Your foot moved so abruptly that the tip of your shoe met the tip of Jude's cock and hit dangerously close to his balls.

You did it. I got you.

"Good choice."

With one swift movement, his crotch was free again, but his hands were bound at the wrists by the steel rings.

You pushed him down onto the bed and pulled his shirt open, leaving his chest completely bare.

“Shit,” you muttered at the sight. “You’re lucky to be attractive.”

“And you’re lucky to be able to see me like this.”

You sent him a questioning look. “Oh, I am? Who hasn’t gotten to see you like this? Because from what I’ve witnessed, you don’t exactly have a criterion when it comes to who you let undress you.”

“You seem really upset by that thought, sweetheart. Are you scared of having a little competition?”

“And what makes them my competition? They’re not as pretty as me.”

“But they’re a lot more obedient.” He replied.

Pure shit.

There’s nothing Jude likes more than how disobedient you are.

“You know my legs are always open for you.”

"Baby..."

"You know you can take anything you want from me, anywhere you want... any way you want..."

Every syllable that came out of your mouth was filled with confidence. Your fingers caressed his jaw as if he was teasing, barely grazing the skin before pulling away and touching another part.

"You have such a dirty mouth." The boy said.

"You want it around your cock?"

Holy shit, did you really say that?

"Yeah."

You hummed, acting like you were considering it.

"But I think you acted like shit, I don't think you deserve it."

"You're lucky that I'm tied up right now, otherwise I'd fuck you until you were ruined."

You seemed to take it as a compliment, your thighs clenching tightly around Bellingham's hips to feel him better.

"Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me?"

As if his massive erection wasn't proof enough already.

“Yes, baby. So bad.”

His confession brought a satisfied smile to your face.

“You wanna see what I got under there?”

“Show me how pretty you are.”

But you didn’t take off any clothes.

You just started riding one of his thighs, your movements teasing and slow.

“Shit. Take this off me.” The dark-skinned one said.

“And why would I do that?”

God, this was getting so frustrating. Jude wanted nothing more to do than watch you choke on his cock until you remembered how to talk to him properly. You shifted a little on his lap, creating a small but effective friction.

“Baby…”

“Suck.” You claimed.

Shit. Usually, Jude was the one giving the orders. Usually, you were the one with Jude’s fingers inside your mouth, too. He opened his mouth obligingly and you immediately pushed two of your fingers in, letting them rest on the tip of his tongue before pushing them fully into his mouth.

“You like having my fingers in your mouth?”

Jude couldn’t help but like the mess he was turning you into.

You withdrew your fingers without warning and brought them to your own mouth, sucking and moaning lewdly as you looked directly into Bellingham’s eyes.

“You’re so fucking dirty.”

Your hand trailed until it was just above your breasts, eyes still on Jude’s as you squeezed your tits.

Jude didn’t even have time to react before he saw you move up your own body and rub through the material covering your pussy, touching up and down a bit teasing the boy in front of you, leaving a wet spot when you pulled your hand away.

“Move your hips for me. Can you do that for me?” That innocent tone you set made Jude explode. And he didn't need to be told twice.

He put all of his weight on his arms, his palms and heels sinking deep into the mattress, and he lifted his hips so hard that you jumped a little on his lap.

Without further ado, he thrust up, fast at first, to give you a taste of his desire, but then slower, nicer, dragging his length over your underwear-covered clit.

You decided to go a little further and freed Jude's cock, so damn big and veiny. You pulled off your underwear and started rubbing yourself. It was so damn delicious the difference in size and how the head of Jude's cock rubbed against your clit.

But what kind of punishment would it be, giving him something he so craved? You knew. You had prepared better.

So when you forgot about everything except the repetitive motion you were supposed to follow, when your moans were finally released loud and clear in the way only he had heard them before, when he could already feel the pleasure, you lifted your hips.

Bellingham groaned in frustration, closing his eyes as he fucked into the air, unable to stop his body from seeking the orgasm he had just been denied.

“Untie me this very instant.”

He may not have sounded angry at his ragged breathing, his body still recovering from the denial, but he was and he would gladly show you how terrifying he could be if he gave him the chance.

You smiled sweetly, dropping your weight onto his lap, a movement so sudden it left him breathless.

“No.”

"I wasn't-" He trailed off, a small sound escaping his mouth from another roll of your hips on his axis. "I wasn't asking."

"Fuck, did I tell you how big you are?" You replied, your small body shaking as you pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. "You should learn not to play with me Bellingham, I'm not one of those girls, don't get wrong with me."

You pulled up your underwear and pulled back up the shorts that barely covered your ass and the small miniskirt accompanied by a pink belt that was hooked with straps to the leggings that reached just above your knee.

"Shit, shit, shit..." He replied frustrated.

"I'm sorry but now you'll have to fix this on your own." You turned around and walked away.

Jude Bellingham is totally lost.

[masonmtxo]

Anytime you need me - Rewrite

Summary: Mason gets a call to pick his girlfriend up from the club

Words: 3k ish

Note: this is a rewrite of my first ever fic! It’s doubled in length and has been changed slightly so hopefully it’s a bit better than the original! As always, feedback is appreciated 🩷

Mason awoke with a start at the sound of his phone continuously buzzing on his bedside table. Rolling over and reaching to grab it, the time 2:06 am flashed up on the screen.

Squinting at the bright light, he flicked his messages open, clicking on your name as numerous notifications filtered down the screen.

He smiled to himself, rolling his eyes at your blatant drunkenness but pleasantly surprised that the messages were entirely coherent, half expecting you to have blown his phone up with nonsense. He slowly sat up and stretched as he clicked the call icon beside your name, eyes still too full of sleep to attempt texting you back.

You picked up on the first ring, some rustling coming down the line before he heard you speak, “Maseyyy, hiiii baby!” Your voice was slurred, a faint thumping from the bass of the club's music could be heard in the background but not so loud he couldn't hear you. Mason frowned slightly, assuming you couldn't have been inside the venue if the music was so distant.

It wasn't often you rang Mason in the middle of the night to pick you up from a night out, when you went out for drinks with friends it would usually end at a much more civilized hour, Mason more often than not acting as your taxi. But on the rare occasion you were out beyond midnight, you would avoid disturbing Mason at all costs, not wanting to wake him up when he had a match or training the following day. You had always promised to ring him in an emergency though, so his heart jumped at the thought of you potentially being unsafe.

"Hi pretty girl, are you okay?” He tried to keep his voice level as his anxiety spiked.

“Yeah baby I’m okay,” your wobbly voice echoed into his ear, “I was wondering if you could pick me up? Lana has found a random bloke so isn’t going home now. I was gonna get a taxi home because I can’t stay at hers like planned but since you're off tomorrow I figured you'd get mad if I did.”

“Yeah of course, I'm just getting ready to come and get you now,” he couldn't help but feel irritation swell in his chest and the thought of your friend abandoning you but was relieved that you had asked, “Where are you?"

He stood from the bed, walking to the chair stood in the corner of your bedroom and yanked on his hoodie and joggers that he had thrown on it a few hours prior.

“outsideeee", you giggled down the line after a pause and another rustle in the background.

He sighed deeply, coming to the quick realisation that you weren't as sober as your messages had led him to believe, "I know that baby, what club are you at?"

In between drunken giggles you revealed the name of the club that you had ended up in that night, quietly whispering down the line that it smelt like sweaty feet in there and that was why you had taken it upon yourself to wait outside.

Furrowing his eyebrows at your response he quickly grabbed his keys from the dresser and jogged down the stairs, "Wait, are you on your own?"

"Noooo, there's a man being sick next to the lamppost and I think his friend is asleep on the floor right by my feet!" You giggled, resulting in another deep sigh from your boyfriend.

"Y/n how many times have I told you not to wander off on your own?” He grumbled out as he slid into his car, his half asleep body shivering from the cold.

The call dropped for a second as he started his engine, connecting through his car causing him to wince as your voice echoed through his speakers.

"I'm not on my own baby, I just told you, I'm with new friends!"

Mason couldn’t help but laugh at your cheer before quickly remembering his drunk girlfriend was standing outside a sketchy club, "Two random drunk men do not count as friends love, where’s Lana?”

“I told you Mase, she left with a man just now!”

“You didn't say she had already left!” He chastised, “just she wasn't going back to hers.”

Mason couldn't help but feel his anger grow towards your friend, pissed off she had ditched you in favour of hooking up with a stranger from the club. Lana was a nice girl, but Mason had seen straight through her from day dot and was forever reminding you Lana’s friendship was only there until a man came on the scene. He never anticipated she would be one to desert you on a night out when you had plans to stay at hers, otherwise he would have stayed awake and kept tabs on you.

Mason sighed yet again, “please go and wait inside until I get there baby, I'll be 10 minutes.”

“It’s okay Mase, I’ll stay with my friends!” You smiled as the man on the floor beside you began to stir.

Mason could hear the man muttering in the background of the call, panic growing by the second. He didn't mean to sound so sharp, but knew it would be the only way to get you to pay attention through your drunken haze, “Get back inside. Now, Y/N."

Mason pulled off the driveway and began his drive through the quiet streets of Surrey as you mumbled down the line in protest but followed his instructions, the music now coming through the line louder and clearer than before, "Good girl, I'm hanging up now you're inside. Just wait there, I'm only round the corner."

Mason pressed his foot to the accelerator a bit harder, praying silently there were no police cars roaming the streets as he sped to your location.

A few minutes later the club came into sight and Mason pulled up in an empty space across the street. The two men he presumed you had been standing beside were still outside on the pavement, though two more men, who he suspected were bouncers, had now joined them.

Mason looked up from his phone to see your dress-clad figure stumble from the front entrance, rolling down his window to give you a wave as he spotted you scanning the road in front of you in search of his car.

Your face broke into a grin as you spotted him, quickly darting across the empty street to his car, but not before throwing a "Bye guys!" to the two partially unconscious men you had 'befriended'.

You reached his car, leaning in through the drivers window, pouting your lips to ask for a kiss which Mason granted, pressing his lips to yours in a quick peck.

"Hi baby, I missed you", you giggled into his neck as you leaned further into the car and cuddled into his warm body.

Mason reached up to stroke your hair back, gently lifting your head so he could see your face, "missed you too pretty, did you have a good night?" He asked.

You grinned back at him, slowly nodding your head and letting out a dragged out "Yesss, the best!"

"Good, now get in the car please before someone sees and thinks I'm soliciting you", he teased, aware you weren't in the nicest area and having a half dressed woman hanging through his car window down a dark street may have looked a bit suspicious to onlookers. He leaned across the car to open the passenger side door ready for you as you let out an offended gasp.

"Hey! I'm not a prostitute! I'm your girlfriend!" You laughed, lightly smacking his chest before stumbling around to the passenger side.

He hummed in response as you slid into your seat, throwing your bag at your feet with a tired sigh. He leaned across to plug your belt in after watching you struggle, giving you another quick kiss before starting his engine and pulling away.

He spent the entirety of the short drive home quietly chuckling in response to your drunken ramblings, animatedly giving him a play by play of your night's adventures.

"And then, as I was waiting to order my drink, this guy came over and I think he might've been flirting with me, Mase!" You gasped, "he offered to buy me a drink and he kept looking at my boobs, which I thought was pretty rude. But anyway, I told him I wasn't interested and 5 minutes later he was necking on with some other girl on the dance floor so I really don't think he was that interested either!"

Mason couldn't help but burst out laughing, reaching his hand across the center console to grasp your hand in his, giving your fingers a light squeeze.

“Why are you laughing at me?” You frowned, head tilted in confusion, “That is not very nice. I haven't said anything funny.”

His lips trembled as he tried to contain his chuckles, pulling your hand up to place a kiss to it in apology, “sorry baby, you're right. Did you have a good time apart from that?”

“Yesss!” You nodded animatedly, “I had to make new friends though as Lana was sitting at the bar with this bloke most of the night.”

Mason sighed in response, reminding himself in the morning to speak to you about being careful around your so-called friend. He would never tell you what you could or couldn't do, but he couldn't help but itch at the thought of you going out with just her again. His brain was in overdrive imagining the position you may have been in if he wasn't there to come and pick you up.

“I’m glad you had fun baby girl,” he kissed the back of your hand once again, holding it against his lips for a moment as he focused on the road ahead.

He looked across at you as he pulled onto the drive, innocently staring up at him with a soft smile making his heart clench at how much he adored you. Mason turned and pressed a kiss to your softly pouted lips, pecking you one, two, three times before turning to climb out the car and walk round to the passenger side to help you out. You'd made it as far as unplugging your seatbelt as he pulled the door open, reaching down to grab your clutch and heels that you had slipped off during the journey before scooping you up from the seat and carrying you bridal style up the driveway.

"Thank you for coming to get me," you whispered into his neck as he carried you to the front door, glancing back to check the car had locked as he placed you carefully on the doorstep.

"Anytime baby" he breathed against the side of your head as he unlocked the door.

The house was dark as you made your way in, the both of you heading straight for the stairs to take you up to your bedroom, fatigue setting in as the warmth of your house consumed you. You took the stairs slowly, Mason’s large hands wrapped around your waist to guide you from behind. You leant heavily into Mason's grip as he guided you through the bedroom door and directed you into your ensuite.

"C'mon baby, sit up on the counter,” he instructed, turning you and lightly lifting you from the hips until you were settled in front of him beside the sink.

He reached into the draw to his right, pulling out some wipes and gently beginning to wash away your makeup, softly tugging the false lashes from your lids as he stood between your thighs.

You stared up at him as he worked away, brows furrowed in concentration as he attempted to wipe away every trace of makeup on your skin.

You hadn't even realised your eyes were fluttering shut until the fingers that were cupping your jaw tapped lightly against your skin, "don't fall asleep on me just yet, pretty girl, you'll be annoyed if you wake up in the morning with makeup on."

You grumbled in response, eyes shutting completely as you felt your head beginning to spin, tiredness settling deep in your bones. You heard the click of a lid, flinching slightly as Mason wiped a cold blob of what you assumed was moisturizer onto your forehead, his gentle fingers massaging the cream into your skin making you sigh in contentment.

Reaching across behind you, fumbling around until you located your toothbrush and the tooth paste, eyes too blearly to properly see what you were doing. You squinted slightly as you squirted a blob onto the head of the brush, quickly wetting it and shoving it into your mouth.

"Good try babe,” Mason paused, a chuckle leaving his mouth, “but that's my brush.”

Glancing down to the toothbrush in your hand, you shrugged, continuing to scrub your teeth as he shook his head, muttering under his breath that he would just get another one tomorrow. You rolled your eyes, figuring he had shared enough of your germs throughout the years to be that concerned but settled down when he flashed you a cheeky smile.

Carefully unwrapping your legs from his waist, he ducked out of the bathroom, returning moments later with your pajamas in his hand.

“Spit,” he murmured after stepping back between your parted thighs.

Leaning to the side, you spat the tooth paste from your mouth as instructed and turned back to look up at your boyfriend who wiped the excess foam from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

Holding onto your hips, he gently slid you down from the counter and settled you on your feet, lifting your dress and slowly pulling it over your head. He worked in silence, unclipping your bra and sliding your knickers down your legs, quickly slipping his old t-shirt over your head before helping you step into your sleep shorts.

Once you were suitably dressed for bed and make-up free, he pressed another kiss to your lips and nodded his head towards the toilet, "go for a wee quick, otherwise you'll have us both awake again in an hour.”

You nodded in response, doing as you were told as Mason busied himself filling you a glass of water to take to bed and clearing away the used make up wipes. With a sideway glance, daring you to make a comment, he grabbed his toothbrush and gave his own teeth a quick refresh.

Flushing the toilet and shimmying your shorts back up, you joined him at the sink, knocking your hip into his as you washed your hands. He smiled with a shake of his head, watching as you skipped past him back into your bedroom and dove head first into the pile of sheets that had been left unmade from his previously disturbed slumber.

You sat up and watched him as he placed the glass of water on your nightstand, pulling your phone from your discarded clutch and plugged it in to charge. It was small actions like that that made your heart leap with affection for your boyfriend, knowing you would always be looked after and doted on as if it was second nature to him.

Mason stood back after helping you under the duvet, walking around to his side of the bed. Your eyes locked onto his bare body as you watched him pull his jumper over his head, admiring the way his back muscles moved under his soft skin. There was something so sexy to you about the way he undressed himself, roughly grabbing the collar of his top and seamlessly pulling it over his head, a sight that had you brain running away with itself as you thought back to all the times he had done that same action before having his way with you. The sight made you shiver and your skin heat, your alcohol fuelled hormones making your head spin.

Mason kept his back to you as he dropped his joggers over his narrow hips, sitting down on the edge of the bed to yank them off before settling in beside you, reaching to turn his bedside lamp off and engulfing the room in darkness.

You groaned in protest that the show had ended, rolling onto his chest as he laid back, gently scratching your nails across the light smattering of hair. He moaned in contentment at the feeling, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you to pin you against his chest.

"I love you," you whispered into the dark, tucking your head into his neck, hooking your leg over his hips to cuddle into him impossibly closer.

"I love you too baby," Mason hummed, rolling himself into you so your bodies were pressed against each other, lips finding yours in the dark for a loving kiss. His lips molded against yours with ease, the kiss slow and gentle, Mason eventually pulling away to let out a tired yawn.

“We better get some sleep,” he sighed, settling into the pillow, nose brushing against yours as you had decided to share his for the night, not wanting to part from his embrace.

“Night Masey,” you whispered, pecking his lips one more time for good measure, “thank you for looking after me.”

"Always."

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || a/b/o

hi so today is @lexirosewrites’s birthday today and like,, idk three or so weeks ago she followed me (hi lexi <3 happy birthday <3 hope today has been fun <3) and to celebrate both of those things i started writing an omegaverse fic, and i wanted it done by today but it is grew a mind of its’ own and now it’s much bigger than i thought it’d be so instead of the full fic, have a snippet <3

again, happy birthday lexi <3

“Hello?” Steve answered, having learned to not open the call with who was answering without knowing who was calling from one too many scam calls

“Is this Steve Harrington?” A soft feminine voice asked, taking Steve by surprise.

“May I ask who’s calling?” Steve asked, not willing to concede his identity until he knew it wasn’t someone looking to sell him ‘Alpha Pills’ or something just as ridiculous.

“Of course! My name is Chrissy Cunningham, you sent in an application for being a full time nanny and tutor?” She responded with a cheerful voice. “I can’t <i>really</i> go much more in depth without an NDA being signed.”

Recognition zapped through Steve’s body and he sat up in his seat. “Oh! Yes, I’m Steve. Um. I’d be happy to sign an NDA, just may I ask why?”

“Yes, you may! My client is a big fan of privacy and only agreed to hire someone if they were under an NDA for the protection of their pup.” aaand all of Steve’s anxiety surrounding the NDA pretty much melted away. Sure, maybe it was a bit much to do, and sure, now he was dying with curiosity to know just <i>who</i> he had ended up applying to, but the knowledge that the NDA was for the protection of the pup soothed any anxiety Steve had originally felt about signing an NDA. In fact, it kind of made his omega perk up. He shook off the feeling, focusing on Chrissy.

“That’s actually really relieving to hear,” Steve said with a laugh. “When or where can I sign the NDA?” he questioned, wondering when Robin would be home so he could tell her.

“Well, first, you and I will do a preliminary interview, just like any other job interview. Then, if all goes well, I’ll send you an email containing the NDA for you to review and sign,” Chrissy explained clearly and cheerfully. “After you sign the NDA, my client will perform an in-person interview and then we’ll go from there.”

“That all seems pretty straight forward so far,” Steve replied, standing from where he had been lounging on the couch. He walked to the kitchen, where he and Robin had put up a magnetic whiteboard calendar to fill with each of their schedules and plans. He grabbed the blue marker, his color, and prepared to jot down when they’d have the interview.

“Perfect! Happy to hear it,” Chrissy said with an audible smile.

“When will the interview with you be?” Steve asked, biting his lip as he stared at the calendar, which had sparsely been marked with his blue marker, even since starting this job hunt. Robin’s plans were in red, and was much more abundant due to having three part time jobs.

“Well, as soon as possible, really. If you’re available now, we could take care of it right away.” the woman responded, sounding like she was walking into another room.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, recapping the marker and returning it to the pen holder. “Yes, of course. I’m available now.”

“Perfect!” Chrissy’s voice sounded from Steve’s phone as the omega walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. “So, starting off pretty easy here, what made you apply for this position?”

Steve thought back and grimaced at the reminder that it was Robin who had submitted his application to this particular job. He wasn’t about to admit that, though, and quickly found a more appropriate response.

“Well, I love taking care of pups, and I just got my teacher’s license a month ago,” Steve explained, which wasn’t a lie, so he figured it was probably as good of an answer as any. “I also saw that this job traveled, and my best friend thought that it’d be good for me.”

“Yes, that was going to be part of this conversation, too. So, you’re obviously alright with the traveling, then?” Chrissy asked and Steve heard what he thought could be pen scratching as she wrote notes. He swallowed thickly, suddenly anxious about what she was writing. He decided to ignore his anxiety, even as his scent soured around him with it.

“Oh, yes, traveling is more than okay,” Steve agreed immediately, “but it’s more important to me that I’ll be taking care of a pup, if I’m honest.”

This statement seemed to pique Chrissy’s attention, as the writing stopped for a moment. “Why is that?” she eventually asked.

Steve winced, wondering if he should be up front about it or not. If Robin were here, she would insist that he was honest. He decided on a half-truth.

“I’ve always wanted pups, and a lot of them,” Steve admitted, fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on the couch. He switched which arm was holding the phone, as he had started to get a little sore from holding it up for so long. “But I don’t have a partner, so I can’t really have my own right now. I discovered through babysitting for one of my neighbors that I have a knack for taking care of pups.”

The scratching noise was back as Chrissy listened to his responses. Steve was nervous he wasn’t doing well, but figured that it wasn’t going bad if she wasn’t suddenly calling the interview short.

“Your resume says that you’re good in high stress situations,” Chrissy said after a couple seconds of silence as she wrote down whatever notes she was taking. Steve briefly wondered if he should be doing the same thing. “I’m going to give you an example scenario, and you’re going to tell me how you’d respond.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Steve agreed, trying not to let his voice betray how anxious he was.

“For the sake of simplicity, we’ll say the pup’s name is Rosie,” she informed him before she continued to describe the scenario. “You’re taking Rosie to the park, when suddenly there is a crowd of people surrounding you and you lose sight of her. What do you do?”

Steve thought the scenario was odd, but not ‘out there’ enough to alarm him. He thought about his answer for a moment before replying.

“I would try to follow her scent, first, because that will usually lead me to any pup I’ve babysat. If that doesn’t work, I will call out for her. If the situation is bad enough, I would contact the authorities, and either you or Rosie’s father.” he paused for a second before continuing, trying to make sure he covered all of his bases. “But honestly? If Rosie is small enough, I would have rather carried her once I saw the crowd, or hold her hand, for the reason of lowering my chances of separation.”

Silence that’s only broken up by the scratching of pen against paper followed, and Steve was suddenly anxious that he answered incorrectly. He answered what he would do if it were his own pup, but what if that wasn’t right? What if he wasn’t cut out for this job?

“Alright, next scenario,” Chrissy said, moving swiftly onto the next one without commenting on his answer; Steve didn’t know if he preferred her not acknowledging it or if he would prefer to be told his answer was shitty up front. The next few scenarios were just as oddly specific, but Steve answered them exactly as he did the first one. He tried to not overthink his answers too much because between each one there would be a stretch of time that Chrissy used to presumably write his answers down.

“One last question and then we should be good to move forward.” Chrissy said a good twenty minutes of questions later. “When would you be available to start working?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, surprised that he was seemingly, maybe being offered the job. “Um—immediately. I would need time to pack, but other than that, I’m free.”

“Wonderful,” Chrissy said cheerfully. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?”

Steve hummed, trying to go through his usual list of questions he asked during interviews that hadn't already been answered and came up empty. “Not at the moment, but I’ll make sure to write any I think of down, if I do.”

“Perfect! So, I will consult with my client, and I have a few other applicants that are interested, but so far, you are my top pick, but I don’t make the decisions,” Chrissy laughed, as if Steve was in on the joke. He laughed with her, not knowing what else he should have done. So, maybe not a job offer, but it sounded promising anyway. “I will be in contact in a few days, three at most.”

“Sounds good, thank you so much for considering me, Chrissy,” he responded with a smile, hoping to leave one last good impression.

[virtualvault]

Full Body Workout

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: You challenge Miguel to a sparring match.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, teasing, begging, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected p in v, wrestling/ grappling for control, too many positions to list lol, mirror sex, dirty talk, creampie

WC: 3.4k

A/N: This prompt won the poll that I put out AGES ago. Sorry it took so long, personal life and work life have been getting in the way and my mental health tanked so I didn’t have it in me to write anything. But, I’m back and feeling inspired again so I was able to finish this. Also, let me know your honest opinion on the positions I wrote reader and Miguel in because holy shit that was harder than I thought it was going to be. I wanted to really capture the feeling that they were wrestling around on the floor, but didn't want to make it too confusing. Please let me know if it made any sense lol. It was a challenge, but fun to write so I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is encouraged and appreciated!!

Miguel is excited that you agreed to join him for his mid-morning workout. But excitement quickly turns to regret as you begin stretching on the mat in front of him. “This was a mistake," he mutters, and you look back and give him a questioning look.

 “How am I supposed to focus when you’re doing that?” He gestures to your ass on full display, sticking straight up in the air.

 You smile cheekily. "Well, if you don't want to watch me stretch, why don't you help me instead?" You teasingly wiggle your hips to entice him. It works, and he comes over to kneel on the floor behind you. Little do you know, he's planning to do a little teasing of his own as payback for distracting him. 

 He runs his hands up the backs of your thighs and gives your ass a light squeeze before maneuvering you onto your back. He raises one of your legs up and throws it over his shoulder, then leans over you. The tension in your hamstring causes a familiar burn and a thrill runs through you. When he switches legs, you feel his hardening bulge rub up against you and a soft moan slips from your lips. You try to move your hips against him, but before you can he places a quick kiss to your forehead and sits upright.

 "Alright, I think you've been thoroughly stretched out, now let's get to it." He shoots you a wink as he stands. You had been hoping he'd let his dick do all the thinking and forfeit his original plans for an entirely different, and way more desirable, form of workout. But he seems determined to stick to his normal routine, much to your disappointment.

 You get up, begrudgingly, to begin your own workout. It's leg day and you decide to start with some lunges. You intentionally face him, not wanting to miss the show. You love watching him workout. His sheer strength never fails to amaze you. Not only that, but he always does everything with such finesse and ease,, and you usually end up just bailing on your workout to watch him, your mouth watering and eyes glued to his body.

 It's not only his movements that are entrancing, but the sounds. My god, the sounds he makes. All the heavy breathing and grunting causes a wet heat to flare between your legs. If you close your eyes, you can picture him above you, fucking you with the same power and agility he's showcasing right now.

 He's in a pushup position, doing reps with a weight bigger than your head. Every time he pulls it up to his chest, he lets out a jagged exhale through his nose and you wish desperately you were feeling it on your neck while he pounds into you from behind.

 You find yourself completely mesmerized by the sounds he's making, the furrow in his brow, and the sweat glistening on his skin. It's a delicious sight and you realize you've completely stopped moving and are simply standing there, staring at him.

 He takes notice as he moves the weight to the other hand and catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye. You quickly look away but judging by the smirk on his face you know he caught you. He's too distracting, so you decide to finish the rest of your workout on the elliptical, just waiting for him to be done and hoping he'll take you back to the apartment and relieve you of the ache he's created between your legs.

 As you set your pace on the machine, you curse yourself for not bringing headphones. You can only just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, but you hear him as he's laid out doing bench presses. The grunting is going straight to your core and you feel a warmth starting to form in your belly. Now alight with burning need, you step off and go to stand in front of him. If he's not willing to postpone his workout to fuck you silly like you want, then you think you've got the perfect compromise.

 You walk over and stand in front of him, hands on your hips. “Let’s spar."

 "What?” he asks, finishing the set and then sitting up.

 "You heard me. I wanna spar. C'mon. Or are you scared I'm going to kick your ass?" You goad, knowing full well he could squash you like a bug if he actually tried.

 He smiles at you, amused by your trash talk, but hesitates. "I don't know if that's such a good idea…" It seems like he wants doesn't want to risk the chance of hurting you, which you both know he wouldn't let happen, but he's really just trying to fight the urge to fuck you. He's been struggling since he saw you saunter out in your tight workout clothes this morning. If you were to spar, he knows being that close to you would make him lose what little control he's clinging to.

 "C’mon, I just want to give it a try. I promise, I'll go easy on you," you joke.

“Okay," he chuckles, "but nothing too crazy. Just some basic grappling stuff." He rises off the bench, and lets his eyes roam your body. He curses himself for it as he feels himself growing hard. His eyes stay glued to your ass as he follows you to the mat in the middle of the room.

 He verbally walks you through a few maneuvers and you pick one to try. He gets into position behind you and holds you up against him, and you're supposed to duck out of his grasp. You attempt the move, and fail, so he pulls you back into him to try it again. You get into position, gripping his arm, and wait for him to give you the go ahead. He leans down to speak softly into your ear. "Good, just like that. Now try it again, but just a little faster."

 His words send a tingle across your skin and your grip on him loosens. With your guard effectively down, he spins you around and sweeps your feet out from under you. You let out a squeak and feel brace yourself, but he grabs you before you hit the mat and lowers you to the ground. You notice he now has you completely trapped under him. He holds your arms to your sides and uses his leg to pin one of your own down. He leaves one leg free, and you plant it on the ground, attempting to push yourself out of his hold, but it's useless. You let out a frustrated sigh.

 "Ready to give up?" he taunts, eyes gleaming with mischief.

 "It's not fair. I'm at a disadvantage," you whine, still attempting to free yourself from his grasp.

 "And why is that?" he questions. There are a million reasons you're at a disadvantage going up against him, but your answer is not one he is expecting.

 "My pants," you state plainly.

 "Your…pants,” he echoes, amused, but waiting for clarification.

 "They’re too restrictive. I don't have full range of motion." You wriggle under him and his eyes fall to your shorts. He admires the way the taught fabric hugs your thighs.

 “Hmm. Well, we wouldn't want this to be an unfair fight, would we?” He leans back and grabs the top of your pants and frees you from their confines. He sits back on his haunches and tosses the clothing side. Then, with as much force as you can muster up, you use your feet to push against his hips, effectively knocking him off balance. He topples over and his back hits the mat with a light thud. He's quite impressed, but before he can sit up and praise you, you crawl over to him and straddle his hips.

 "Nice move," he comments, and looks down to see you resting on his bulge and he can feel the wet heat of your core through his shorts. "Thanks. I learned from the best, " you say with a wink and begin grinding on him, causing the fabric to drag along your folds. You quicken the motion as you feel him twitch beneath you.

 After a few moments, you turn the other way and attempt to rid him of his shorts, giving him a glimpse of your bare ass in the process. The second you finish taking them off, he's pulling you back to hover over his face. You steady yourself and go to scold him for taking back control, but before you can say anything he pulls you down onto his face. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you gasp as he begins exploring you thoroughly with his tongue. You shiver at the warmth of his mouth against you.

 When your eyes finally flutter open, you catch a glimpse of his tip dripping with anticipation, begging to be touched. You lean down, grip his thighs, and begin gliding your tongue over his length. He grunts and you feel the sound reverberate over your clit.

 You want to feel it again, so you take him into your mouth and start sucking his head. He bucks his hips, pushing himself to the back of your throat. He lets out a long groan this time and you pull him in deeper. You gag a little and he grips your thighs tight as your throat constricts around him. You feel his heavy breathing grazing your skin as he laps you up feverishly.

 With your own pleasure building rapidly, you pull your mouth off of him and begin stroking him while letting out a steady stream of moans. You can tell you're getting close. Miguel can too, so he sloppily sucks at your clit, then rolls it gently between his teeth. This proves to be too much for you, and you grip him at the base as your orgasm washes over you. As the pleasure rolls through your body, you clench around nothing and realize how empty you feel without him inside you. He nips at your thighs as you come down and you give him a few sloppy strokes before sitting up, desperate to feel him fill you up.

 You start to crawl down his body, but he quickly pulls you backwards. You land with your back to him, and he secures you in place with his arm across your chest. He spreads your legs, holding them open with his own, and uses his free hand to begin rubbing himself against you.

 "I wanted to ride you," you pout, and angle your hips so that his tip catches on your clit as he slides back and forth against you.

 "By all means, go ahead and try." You attempt to wiggle free but it's futile. "Guess we're doing it my way," He enters you slowly, gliding in with no resistance. You both let out a low moan.

 "You take me so well," he praises. You sigh as he bottoms. He places kisses all up your neck while giving you a few seconds to adjust. His free hand settles on your hip, and you expect him to start thrusting into you, but he surprises you when he flips the both of you over.

 He cages you in against the floor and grinds into you, slowly but deeply. He has you whimpering into the mat, needing him to go faster. But you know he loves to torture you like this, intentionally setting a pace that has you writhing and begging for more, while keeping your climax just out of reach.  You crane your neck to try and get a good look at him, but he has his face buried in your neck. You tug on his hair to get his attention.

 "Let me see you," you whine.  When he lifts his head, he's enthralled by the sight of you, lips bitten and eyes wide. He crashes his mouth into yours and glides his tongue over yours, hungrily, before pulling away and flipping you over. He grabs one wrist in each hand and anchors them to the floor above your head.

 Desire flares in you as his eyes meet yours, staring back at you with such fervent need. He brings his face closer, and your noses brush as he stares deep into your eyes. Then without warning he's back inside you and begins fucking you with much more momentum than before. You wrap your legs around his hips and the new angle has his length reaching so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach.

 "Oh fuck, just like that," you say, breathily. Your ankles dig into his lower back, pulling him even deeper, causing his tip to find the exact spot that sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he stretches you. His grip on your wrists loosens and his eyes fall shut as he gets caught up the feeling of your silky walls hugging him. As you contract around him again and again, he drops his head.

 You now have a good view of his exposed neck and can see the sweat glistening on his skin. Your mouth starts to water at the sight, and you place a few sloppy kisses up the slope of his neck before dragging your tongue along the skin to get a taste. You feel his hips falter and he relaxes his grip on you. You take this moment of weakness to muster up as much strength as you can and roll him over until you're straddling him.

 He grunts as his head comes to rest on the floor. He moves his hands to your hips to attempt to regain control, but you grab them and put them above his head, mirroring the position he had you in just moments ago. "Who knew a few kisses to the neck is all it takes to overpower you," you tease. You begin to grind on him nice and slow, your walls dragging along his length. He moans and his lips buck under you.

 "Come on. Please," he implores, voice dripping with want.

 "Lucky for you, it's leg day." You plant your feet on the floor and begin to ride him in earnest, and his breath quickens. As you bounce faster and faster, he squirms underneath you, so much so that his wrists come free from your grasp. You place your hands on his chest to hold him down that way instead.

 Your palms travel the broad expanse of his chest and find it increasingly harder to stay steady as the pressure inside you builds. He senses you're struggling a bit, so he grabs your hips to help guide you up and down on his cock.

 Soon your whole body is thrumming with pleasure and, no longer able to hold yourself up, you collapse on his chest. Not wanting you to lose your momentum, he quickly begins thrusting up into you. He wraps his arms around you to pull you down onto him. Within seconds he has you crying out as you tumble over the edge. You bury your face in his chest and plant light kisses across his soft skin as you ride out your high. He fucks you through it, but you're so wet he eventually slips right out of you.

 You're still buzzing from you last orgasm, but he is desperate to feel your warmth again. He rolls you over into your side, then spots the mirror that panels the wall. He sits up and pulls you into his arms with your back pressed to his chest. He holds you tight to him, arm across your chest like a seat belt and the other across your waist.

 He gets up onto his knees and his eyes meet yours in the mirror. Anticipation pulses through you as his arm momentarily leaves your waist to line himself up with your entrance. Raw with need, he slides in and returns his arm to your waist and begins pulling you down onto him in tandem with his thrusts. If it weren't for his tight grip on you, you would have toppled over.

 Your breathing comes out in short, sharp pants and you look up to see the two of you in the mirror. His body is completely engulfing yours.  Not only are his arms around you, but your thighs are enclosed by his and they're pressing yours together. It makes you feel even tighter and Miguel grunts into your neck, and he can feel himself creeping closer to his own release.

 He lifts his head to kiss up the side of your face, then meets your gaze. It'd be apparent to anyone who could see the two of you like this that he has the upper hand. You can barely move except to angle your hips to take every forceful thrust. But you both know you have just as much control over him and his pleasure as he does you. It's evident in the way he squeezes his eyes shut and his hips stutter every time you walls grip him tight, and the way he has to do everything in his power not to cum as he hears those heavenly noises pouring from your mouth.

 He has to keep himself from cumming, determined to pull one more from you before he finally gives in. Your eyes flutter shut, and you attempt to reach up to run your fingers through his hair, your other hand hanging onto his forearm. Your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out a soft growl at the delicious burn.

 He dips his head down to nip at your ear. "Touch yourself," he commands, and you go to look at him over your shoulder, but he grabs your chin to angle your face to meet his in the mirror.

 "C'mon. I want you to see how fucking good you look when you touch with yourself.  I know your clit must be throbbing, don't you think it deserves a little attention?" The grovel in his voice and his measured thrusts have your mind a little hazy, so you don't move right away. Before your hand can catch up with your brain, he grabs your wrist and shoves it between your thighs for you. He stills his hips and pulls your legs apart so he can get a good look at your spread folds in the mirror.

 "Mmm. It's so swollen, just begging to be played with. Go on, play with that pretty pussy."  He gently glides your hand over your exposed nub, then pulls away you start moving on your own. "Look at you, getting yourself off while I'm inside you. Dirty little thing.”

 You do your best to nod in response. "You make me feel so full," you moan out as you swipe back and forth over your clit.

 He involuntarily bucks his hips, pushing himself deeper into you. He curses under his breath, and you lay your head back and look up at him. “You gonna fuck me?” You question while simultaneously rolling your hips, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

 “Or am I going to have to finish the job myself?” You feign a pout, and he leans down, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

 Your words spur him on, and he starts moving again. He's giving you slow, hard thrusts and you squeak as each one hits deeper and deeper. He notices your hand speed up and he fucks you faster to match the pace. The feeling of him filling you up, the soft squelch each time he bottoms out and his ragged breathing grazing your skin is all you can focus on, and he sees your wrist go limp. He's quick to replace your hand with his own. His fingers swirl in fast, tight circles around your clit and you let out what sounds like a sob.

 The sensation is too much, and you go rigid in his arms, white hot pleasure shooting across your body. He sees your eyes roll back as you gush around him, and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. You don't even register what he's saying and eventually go limp in his arms. He can still feel you fluttering around him, and he lets out a deep, guttural moan and releases inside you.

 He gently sets you down onto the mat and collapses beside you, thoroughly drained. As you're attempting to catch your breath, he pulls you up into his side and you rest your head onto his chest.

 "If I knew working out could be this fun, I'd come with you every day," you jest, although you'd be more than willing to add this to your routine.

 “So, same time tomorrow then?” He asks with a smile.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In the Moonlight

Author's Note: This is a part of the Dancing With the Devil AU, but can be read as a stand alone. The Vamp!Rhys brain rot has taken over and there aren't enough fics to satisfy me so I wrote more ;)

Pairing: Vamp!Rhys x Reader x Vamp!Azriel

Content Warnings: SMUT, threesomes, oral (f and m receiving) blood, typical vampire stuff

Based on this post/ original fic

-------------------------------------------------------

You’ve always loved music, the steady flow of the strings, the heavy pulse of the drums; it’s always been something that moves and excites you, your body knows how to respond to it as if it's its basest instinct. Music was the siren song that had pulled you and Nesta to the dance floor all those years ago, as children, eager to dance and move and lose yourself in the steps of a blooming waltz that made the other mortal children dizzy. It had been one of your few chances at freedom, and you had chased that opportunity all the way to the Velaris Estate weeks ago, and had now found a new sense of freedom.

It’s still tied to music, by some humorous twist of fate. You’d learned early on that the Lord of the Estate had the set list planned: Something graceful and elegant to start, the slow thrum of the string section pushing people onto the dance floor, highlighting easy prey in those lingering on the edge with no partner to claim them. Then something more sensual, as the predators take the floor, snatching their prey with a charming bow and disarming smile. These will span several songs, get their prey comfortable with their presence, before the shift becomes something with more drums and base, music to disappear into the dark corners to. 

Their ability to move so seamlessly, so flawlessly that no one suspects there might be ill intent in the gesture is still mind boggling. You stand in the shadows of the upstairs veranda, watching Rhysand and his horde move as you sip from a full wine glass, content to study for now. The bargain had never specified when Rhys was supposed to turn you, for now, you attend his parties and do your best to study them, so when the time comes you’ll be prepared. 

There are new faces in the crowd tonight, less and less of your neighbors and childhood friends filling the expensive ballroom now that word had spread that you hadn’t returned home, all those weeks ago. As expected, your brother had nearly torn the Spring Estate to shreds when he’d found you gone. Nesta had apparently witnessed you sitting in Rhys’s lap--though by some magic or sheer luck, she hadn’t seen him drinking from your neck--and had gone straight to Tamlin to tell him. The betrayal had burned white hot, and not for the first time, were you thankful the ancient vampire hadn’t turned you yet, or else the destruction you might have caused in the aftermath would have made Tamlin’s look like a child’s temper tantrum. She hadn’t tried to explain herself, every one of your friends had turned their back on you, a couple of them had outright called you a whore to your face before vowing to never speak to you again. None of them were known to be tight lipped either, the whole town was sure to know that you’d “debased yourself with the Lord of Velaris”. It would have hurt less if you hadn’t spent the last couple of years protecting Nesta’s own secret lovers, but you had to admit, the newfound freedom of living here lessened the sting more and more each day. There were no governesses dictating your every outfit and hairstyle; no stewards limiting the amount of food you got at each meal to ensure you stayed pretty and thin for a would-be husband; no guards to regulate how much time you spent outside and where you could go. If you wanted to wear something, you did; if you wanted to eat you could go into the kitchens now and ask for it and the staff would do so eagerly; if you wanted to go outside and run until you got lost in the mountains, you were free to do so. There were no restrictions with Rhys, the fact alone was enough to keep you here, though the prospect of immortality pulled a little more and more each day. It wasn’t even the living forever thing, you really weren’t that interested in that part. It was the strength, the power, the freedom to be wild and unrestrained and never have to worry about being hurt or caged again. Once you were a vampire, no one could keep you locked away. 

You take another sip of wine as the music begins to shift and the lights dim. Feeding time. Rhys dances beneath you with a blonde woman, the neckline of her gown so deep you can see the heavy swell of her breasts from your vantage point. You shove down the pang of jealousy you feel upon seeing those hands on someone else’s hips with another deep drink from your wine glass.

Mor dances with a female on the edge of the crowd, the darkest part of the dance floor, where the judgmental eyes of the town won’t be so quick to spot her. Cassian hasn’t danced all night, has spent the evening prowling around the refreshment table, trying to get drunk despite his accelerated metabolism making it hard. He’d hoped to make a similar bargain with Nesta all those weeks ago, but you’re pretty sure he’d stepped on her foot and she’d left scowling in search of you before she’d found you in Rhys’s lap. Poor Cassian has been moping since.

You haven’t seen Azriel all night, but that’s how he likes it. He could be as charming as Rhys if he wanted, but he likes his solitude too much to risk it. When he steps out of the shadows to your left, as if your thoughts had materialized him, it’s little surprise. Rhys had explained that every vampire had their own unique abilities, among some shared traits, and Azriel’s shadow manipulation made him an excellent hunter.

“You’re not dancing tonight?” He says as he comes to stand beside you, scared hands resting on the banister railing. 

You take another sip of wine. “I didn’t know I was on the menu tonight.” A lie, Mor had helped you pick a gown with a neckline that plunged all the way down to your midsection with the intent of catching the Vampire Lord’s eye, but you had chickened out at the last minute and hid. Having the freedom to chose and the bravery to walk out in public were two very different things, but you hadn’t realized it until too late.

Hazel eyes roam the expanse of your exposed skin, the way your hair is pinned up out of the way so that the full expanse of your throat is available. It doesn’t hide the hickey’s Rhys had left a couple nights ago either, the dark marks smattered across your collarbones and lower, following the path of your gown. “So everyone knows your mine,” Rhys had purred in your ear and before the ball you had been thrilled to show them off. Until a few wandering eyes had lingered too long, the judgment clear on their faces. You’d spent the rest of the night hoping everyone would forget you’d existed.

“He’s looking for you,” Azriel says half-heartedly, eyes still exploring you. There’s a hunger there you can’t miss; that has you pressing your thighs a little tighter together. Azriel is as devastatingly handsome as Rhys is, and this is not the first time you’ve noticed the attention he gives you, but it has never gone anywhere. Especially not when his sire is the one leaving all these marks on your throat.

“He seemed plenty preoccupied with that blonde,” you reply.

A half-smile creases the vampire’s usually stoic face. “Jealous, little one?”

“No,” you say. “Just observing.”

The grin remains as he holds out a hand in silent invitation and when you take it, you can’t help but wonder how those large, scarred hands would feel on your thighs, spreading you open…

The world spins and flips as Azriel shadow steps the two of you down into what they call the Den, the unlit corners of the ballroom where they can feed in near privacy. There’s no doors to lock, though there are several glamors in place to keep wandering eyes from getting suspicious. 

Mor and a newly turned Emerie are already sharing a female on a couch in the corner, and the blonde winks at you as she sinks her fangs deeper into her prey.

On the opposite side of the Den, nursing a glass of whiskey under the light of the full moon peeking through the curtains, is Rhys. He looks like a god in this lighting, violet eyes glowing in the dimness. You can’t help but notice that he sits alone, his dance partner nowhere to be seen. While it’s never been discussed that you’re the only human he’s feeding on, a part of you is relieved to see that he hasn’t taken anyone else. It’s a strange sort of satisfaction, knowing there’s something in your blood that keeps him coming back again and again.

Violet eyes watch your every step forward with the intensity of a jungle cat on the hunt. “There you are, Darling,” he purrs. “I was looking for you.”

“Liar,” you tease.

He makes himself more comfortable in the large wing-backed chair, legs spread and you can’t decide if you want to climb in his lap or get on your knees for him more. 

“Did you spook your dance partner?” 

“No,” he says as he brings the whiskey back to his lips and takes a slow drink. “She was dull and she kept stepping on my toes.”

“You poor baby,” you croon and he grins as he sets the whiskey down on a small side table.

“I would have been spared if you hadn’t decided to be a wallflower tonight,” he replies, hand tapping at his thigh for an invitation for you to come sit. “What’s bothering you?”

The slit in your skirts makes moving them out of your way easy as you climb into his lap, knees bracketing his hips. Every time you think you’ll enjoy it less, but there is no feeling quite like this one, you could sit here forever. “I-”

Rhys presses his lips over a bruise on your neck.

“I was going to come down, but,” the words catch in your throat a bit, your cheeks flushed. “I think I should have worn something else.”

Slender fingers brush over your exposed skin making a shiver run down your spine. “Why would you do that?” He counters. “You look breathtaking. Doesn’t she, Az?”

You’ve almost forgotten the other vampire was still standing there, still watching in that silent, shadowy way of his. When you throw a glance at him over your shoulder, he’s standing with his hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed into the exposed bit of your thigh from where the dress is split.

“Absolutely sinful,” he says softly.

Now you’re really blushing. “I-I was hoping you’d like it,” you stammer. “I just… I don’t like when people are looking at me.”

“I do like it,” he says so lowly that heat begins to build in your core. “So much so that I had to stop myself from taking you against the railing over and over again.” Teeth scrape lightly over your skin, teasing, not quite tasting you yet.

“Az was thinking about it too,” he hums into your skin. “You should hear the things he thinks about you.”

“Rhys-” Azriel begins, the apology on his lips, but Rhys pulls away from your neck to motion him over.

“What do you think, little one, should we give him a little taste?” You’ve never been more aware of your own body than you are with Azriel at your back, and the firm planes of Rhys at your front.

You glance back and forth between them, at the tension that rolls off Azriel, at the hunger that chases your every motion in Rhys’s eyes. In your mind he says, “It’s your choice, Darling.”

“You-you won’t be mad?”

His laugh is a beautiful thing, even in your mind. “Azriel and I have shared many females. Cassian too. I enjoy it, as long as my partner does too. And I know that you’ve thought about him, it’s hard not to, but only if you really want to.”

You’ve been studying all of them: The way they hunt, the way they move, what separates them from humans and other vampires alike. Rhys is refined in his ability to hunt, uses his charm and his wits to bait prey into the Den; he makes feeding an art form, something graceful and dazzling, an allure only someone who’s done this for a long time can make possible. Cassian is messy, he likes to splatter blood when he feeds, and while he’s calculating and strategic in the initial hunt, he has no qualms getting dirty. Mor thrives in the dark corners of the ballroom, meeting in secret with her lovers because she does not trust people enough to bring a stranger into the Den. And Amren, well you’ve only met her once, and she’d traded some of her books for a mere drop of blood from your wrist before she disappeared again. But Azriel, you haven’t really figured out. He always hovers at the edge of the crowd, only speaks or feeds when he needs to, as if denying himself the pleasure the others chase will absolve him of whatever darkness lingers in his past. You know it’s there, have heard it hinted at, but no one will say it out loud. The more you try to learn about them, the more a mystery Azriel remains, and you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t curious to see how he feeds compared to Rhys.

“I do.”

And there is no judgment there. Unlike everyone else tonight. The freedom to choose, to want, is enough to make you toss your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss the tip of his nose. Anywhere else he might be regarded as a monster of the night, but here, like this, you’ve never felt safer.

Rhys presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “And who am I to deny my little pet anything?”

Azriel’s hands settle on your hips, that immortal strength never failing to make you feel fragile and small in their grip. It sends a shiver of delight through you; there’s no denying how much you love the freedom of handing over your power and knowing they won’t abuse it.

His warm breath fans your neck as he brings his lips to your exposed throat. “Been thinking about this since you arrived.”

Rhys nips at where your neck meets your collarbone, hands skimming your sides until he finds your breasts, nipples peaked through the thin fabric. “How would you like to taste her first?”

Teeth scrape over your pulse point, savoring the rapid beating of your heart. “Turn her around.”

They move you together, fingers digging into your hips as you're positioned with your back to Rhys’s chest, legs spread by his knees. Your skirts get caught, bunched up around your hips, baring most of your legs and you give a little squeak of surprise as you try to close them, to spare what’s left of your dignity, but there’s no room as Azriel kneels between both yours and Rhys’s legs.

Heat pools in your core, even as your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “Someone is going to see us!” You squeak, voice more shrill than you would have liked it to be. You want this, you want it more than you’ll ever allow yourself to say out loud, but there is a crowd nearby and even with the glamor in place, it is still a far more compromising position than you’ve ever been in. At least before, your skirts hid your coupling, but there’s no hiding like this, as Rhys loops an arm around your waist and sinks his fangs into your neck.

The shadows that leak from Azriel drift off his broad shoulders, shimmering and darkening, as if they’re absorbing the moonlight seeping through the window. “Not unless you want them to,” he says as those scared hands drag up your soft skin.

Your hips buck despite yourself, body aching to be touched; for more, more, more. The aphrodisiac in Rhys’s venom takes hold quickly, makes your whole body molten. The combination of pain and pleasure makes you close your eyes and lean your head back against Rhys’s shoulder.

“Good girl,” Rhys purrs into your mind so he doesn’t have to release his grip on your neck. “Just relax, let us take care of you.”

Azriel must be linked into your conversation, because he says in your mind, “There’s not much room for creatures like us in temples, but I’ll worship here just the same,” as his own fangs sink into the tender flesh of your inner thigh.

It’s a far more tender spot than you thought it would be, a whimper of pain escaping you, body rocking back into the hard planes of Rhys’s chest and the growing bulge in his pants to try and escape. Their combined grip on you keeps you from getting far, but that whimper turns into a moan as Rhys drags a hand down between your legs to give you some relief. He chuckles into your mind when he finds you’re not wearing any underthings, but the slit in your skirts had made you nervous that someone would see the lacy underthings that kept appearing in your drawers if you moved too fast.

“Fuck,” Azriel moans as he unlatches his fangs from your thigh, fingers playing in the bit of blood that trickles out the puncture wounds. “She’s so sweet!”

Rhys, never one to make a mess, laps at what escapes from the wounds he made at your throat before saying, “I told you she was.”

Hazel eyes narrow into the teasing strokes the other vampire is making between your legs, watching with rapt attention the way Rhys spreads you open as he licks your blood off his lips. Vampires, you’ve noticed, have a strange sort of stillness about them, they can become still as statues, unmoving, never blinking, it was still nerve wracking, especially now that you know that predatory stillness comes right before they pounce, and Azriel has that same look about him, right before he leans in and licks a stripe up your center.

Rhys chuckles in your ear as you moan and try one more time to squirm away from their dual ministrations, body overwhelmed as he curls a finger inside you and Azriel follows with his tongue. 

You’re going to reach your high embarrassingly fast at this rate, especially when Rhys’s free hand slides your top to the side so he can roll a nipple between his fingers. You squeeze your eyes shut, one hand reaching behind you to tangle in Rhys’s hair, the other in Azriel’s to try and ground yourself. The intensity of both their venom in your bloodstream has heightened everything beyond what you’d already thought possible, your skin burning, coated in sweat from this alone. Their efforts are somehow too much and not enough and you’ve lost the presence of mind to tell which of their names you’re crying out first, it might be both of them. 

Azriel feasts on you like a male starved, and the shadows not making a shield around the three of you writhe eagerly over your thighs, dusting your heated skin with cool touches that make you buck your hips as best you can against their master’s grip. Rhys adds a second finger, using your gathering wetness and Azriel’s spit to spread you open further, giving the other male more access to you, his nose brushing your clit, chin absolutely soaked in the mess you’re making. The move has you panting, stars blurring across your vision as an orgasm tears through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper, body shaking from your high.

Rhys peppers kisses along your neck and shoulders as Azriel pulls back, licking your release off his lips. “No wonder you’ve been hiding this one from the rest of us,” he says huskily. “I could spend all night like this.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little one?” Rhys purrs in your ear, breath tickling your still flushed skin. Their venom hasn’t worn off yet, body still not satiated, still begging to be touched and claimed. There’s not a chance you can close your legs, the evidence of your still budding arousal leaking onto his pants.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Which one of us do you want first, hm?”

How are you supposed to choose? There are too many things you want and it’s all getting muddled in your head. “Both.”

It’s Azriel’s deep rumble of a laugh that skitters across your skin as he says, “You can’t take both of us in this body, little one.” Scarred hands skim your exposed thighs, fingers kneading into the bite marks that are quickly turning into a bruise. “Humans are so fragile.”

And damn do you certainly feel it like this, tucked between the two of them. They could so easily break you, so easily overpower you. It’s thrilling and terrifying all at once. 

“Want…” your cheeks heat, a blush crawling its way up your neck and Rhys runs his tongue over it with a chuckle.

“Tell us what you want, Darling.”

You shiver, despite the flush of your damp skin. “Want to taste you then.”

You watch with rapt attention as those hazel eyes widen, the golden ring thinning until there is nothing but pupil as he processes what you’re saying. Still, you grind yourself down on Rhys’s bulge as you reach for the laces on Azriel’s pants, hoping he gets the hint as well.

“Greedy little thing,” Azriel tuts, but he steps closer anyway, letting you figure out how to get the laces untied in the moonlight. “I don’t think you’ve properly trained your pet, Rhys.”

Rhys’s fingers dip into the tender flesh of your hips mercilessly as he grinds you back against his erection, a rumble of a moan echoing through his chest. “Don’t want this one trained,” he purrs. “They taste better when they’re wild.”

You manage to get the laces undone, hands shaking a bit when you realize what you’ve just gotten yourself into. Rhys is a lot on his own, Azriel is… bigger than you expected. A lot bigger, his cock heavy and erect against his stomach. 

They must be having their own mental conversation, when you pause to consider how to even go about this, Azriel suddenly reaches out to grab you by the hair, pulling you forward as Rhys moves your skirts out of the way. Their movements are in perfect sync and you don’t know whether you should hiss from the sting of those large hands in your hair or moan as Rhys rubs the tip of his cock against your center. The sound that comes out of you is a little bit of both in the end.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhys inquires as if there could possibly be any thought in your head other than how much you need the both of them right now. Do they not share the same ache you feel? How are they not consumed by this thing that begs beneath your skin to be touched and soothed and filled?

You lean forward just enough to lick Azriel’s tip, catching a bead of pre-cum on your tongue as the male’s fingers tighten in your hair, a hiss escaping him. “Very sure.”

“Tap my thigh twice if it gets to be too much,” Rhys orders.

You nod your understanding as he slides slowly into you, letting you get adjusted to the feel of him from this angle. He’s deliberately slow, gliding in inch by inch, making your eyes roll back into your head, all your focus on the feel of him instead of tending to Az. 

“I see she gets her greediness from you,” Azriel teases.

You have to brace yourself against Azriel’s hips as Rhys rocks your forward, chuckling. “Just because I said I’d share, doesn’t mean I’m not going to have my fill.”

Stars dance across your vision as he hits an angle inside you he hasn’t reached before, mouth falling open as pleasure licks its way up your spine. 

Azriel grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him when all you want to do is squeeze your eyes shut under the pleasure. “Are you gonna put that pretty little mouth to use?”

You run your tongue over your lips, whimpering as Rhys settles fully inside you, “Mmhhmm,” is all you can manage to get out before he’s guiding you down to his leaking cock. 

“Been thinking about this for a long time,” Az whispers. “Always wearing that pretty shade of lipstick that would look so good smeared across my cock.”

You swirl your tongue over his tip again and his hips jerk involuntarily. It’s a greedy sort of satisfaction you get in knowing that you can reduce a thousand year old vampire to this with just your tongue, and you want to see how much farther you can push him. Keeping a hand on his hips for balance, you use the other touch him, tracing a line down the underside of his shaft that has him hissing as the muscles in his abdomen tighten.

Rhys takes as much time sliding out of you as he had sliding in, setting a leisurely pace you know is to help you get comfortable with this setting. As tight as his own muscles are, you know he’s holding back, and you’re grateful for it, as you start to take Azriel in your mouth. It’s going to take time to get used to, you have to focus all your effort into breathing out your nose and slackening your jaw. There’s no way you’re going to be able to fit all of him.

“Just like that,” Az moans, using the hand in your hair to guide you down further.

“Look so pretty like this,” Rhys encourages as he trails soft kisses over your spine. He’s far more gentle with you than a vampire ought to be, and you can’t help but think he might be getting attached to you; a notion that would have sounded absurd weeks ago, but makes your heart stutter a little now.

“Feels so good,” you tell him mind to mind.

He slides back into you with a groan, just a little more forcefully than before, making your head bob down Azriel’s cock until he hits the back of your throat. Az moans louder than someone who is usually so stoic ought to and you have to release him for a second to catch your breath.

He gives you mere seconds before he’s hurriedly pulling you back, groaning like he can’t bear to not have your mouth around him anymore. Rhys sets his pace to match, giving you a rhythm to follow as you get a hand around the parts of Az you can’t get your mouth around. 

This is a pleasure you didn’t know you needed; the way they both moan and pant over you has you rocking your hips back into Rhys, your hand pumping a little harder around Az. As much as you want them to ruin you, you want to do the same to them.

Rhys’s fangs scrape over your shoulder, fingers tightening into your hips in a move you know will leave bruises. He’s getting closer to the edge, all his praises whispered in pants against your skin.

Az throws his head back as he hits the back of your throat once, twice, then a third time, the muscles in his abdomen tightening with every thrust. 

They’re both so close, you not far behind, especially when Rhys slips his hand between your legs again.

“Fuck,” Az whispers. With his head thrown back like that, eyes pinched shut, muscled body bathed in the moonlight, he looks every bit a god. And if his tongue between your legs counts as worship, then so should this as you take him as deep as you can without gagging, face a mess of spit and pre-cum.

“Gonna cum,” he warns.

Rhys’s thrusts are getting harder, the chair groaning beneath him as he fucks up into you. This is usually where he likes another taste of you, you’re used to the routine of it, ready for him to sink his fangs into your shoulder, though the force of it this time is different, as if he’s losing control, the bite sloppy, teeth scraping against your skin before they push in.

Your whole body tenses at the sensation of a thousand year old vampire losing a bit of his usual control, pleasure building white hot in your core. You want to see him a complete mess one of these days. 

It’s your moan around his cock that pushes Azriel quickly over the edge, warm cum spurting in your mouth before he can pull away from you. Azriel, quite, broody Azriel groans and pants as he cums, the sound like music to your ears as you drink him down. His hand still hasn’t left your hair, now scrapping gently against your scalp as you release him with a pop that turns into a squeal as Rhys bites down on your shoulder a second time.

One more thrust, then a second before your own release barrels through you, white hot in the buzz of sensations swirling around your head. Your own release chases Rhys into his and he jerks forward with a cry as he spills inside you.

You fall back against his chest as you come down from your high, body trembling, breath escaping in pants. 

Azriel reaches out and wipes a bit of the mess he made on your chin with his thumb, muttering, “Beautiful.”

Still catching his breath, Rhys presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek, and judging by the wetness on his lips you think there might still be some blood on them, but you’re too blissed out to care.

“Did so well,” he praises in your ear, voice still low and husky.

You raise a hand to card your fingers through his hair, eyes drifting shut, beyond satiated. If someone had told you this would have happened because you’d decided to sneak into a party and dance with a stranger, you wouldn’t have believed them in the slightest, but now, it doesn’t matter how long it takes for him to fulfill his end of the bargain. There are new freedoms to be found still, new pleasures to experience. You know things will be different once he turns you, and you’re not ready to feel so different yet. Right now, you like this thing between you. It’s good. Freeing.

“I’m glad I met you,” you admit softly.

“How very human of you to say,” Azriel teases as he fixes his pants. Despite his words, once he’s done, he still leans down to kiss your forehead.

“You like that I’m human,” you counter.

Rhys manages to get you repositioned so he can stand and carry you upstairs to his room, where you know a warm bath will be waiting for the two of you. “That we do, little one,” he purrs. “There’s still so much more to explore before you turn.”

[dietpitt]

💚🎃Green Is Definitely Your Color🎃💚

Stan Pines x AFAB!Reader Explicit | 2.8k words Tags: Gender-Neutral Reader, Reader wears a dress, Halloween Costumes, Trick-or-Treating, Sexual Roleplay, Cunnilingus, Praise Kink, Voice Kink, Stan is a Leg Man, Body Worship, Marking Kink, Reader Plays Bride of Frankenstein

In which body paint and Stan's mouth save the day (but ruin a perfectly good costume).

{Read on AO3}

Author's Note: Originally posted 2020 on AO3, but I wanted to give it a proper tumblr post. I'm very proud of this one except I didn't know how to end it and it shows lol

Thankfully, there are only a few things you and your boyfriend don’t see eye-to-eye on. Stan takes his coffee black (old habit from the days of shoddy motels and a life on the run), while your own brew of choice is iced (lasts longer and doesn’t get cold since it already is). He thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to scare a baby every now and then, and proceed to laugh in their pudgy little tear-streaked face. You? You told him he’d be the one bawling if you ever caught him pulling that in your periphery again.

Tonight, though? Tonight is the perfect example of just how good you two are together. Because tonight, you weren’t scaring babies. Tonight, on Halloween, you were scaring kids. And that was worlds apart from wreaking havoc in the grocery store, which happened the majority of the remaining 363 days of the year.

Sure, Stan always goes all-out for his beloved Summerween, but October 31st is when his freak flag really flies. It makes sense--  Fall brings less tourists than usual, and shorter daylight hours means fewer parents letting their kids come out to the woods to trick or treat, making every opportunity for a scare count.

With the Mystery Shack trading its typical kitsch for spooky ephemera-- fully decked out in giant spiderwebs, ghoulish figures, and angry jack-o-lanterns-- it’ll truly be a dramatic sight to behold.

But, for all the elaborate planning, special effects to make the eyes pop out of his skull and the bolts on his neck to spark and smoke, Stan still manages to miss a few spots needing body paint. 

“Alright, alright, I think y’got it,” Franken-Stan fake-grumbles up at you from his seat in front of the full-length mirror.

“Will you relax? You’re gonna sweat, and I’ll have to do your makeup all over again,” you scold, though your painted lips curl into a fond grin despite yourself.

Though the kids will start coming any minute, you’re set on completing the finishing touches, if for no other reason than to keep Stan from further grumbling later.

… And most certainly not because you also love the opportunity to dote, holding him close in ways he’d otherwise be too shy about. Not at all.

“Are you going to wear your glasses?” You ask, getting his ears nice and green with the sponge brush.

He gives it some thought. “As much as it hurts the spook factor, I can’t really scare anybody if I fall on my face.”

Another, final once-over at your work and you’re satisfied, stepping back and raising your arms in the air triumphantly to steal yourself for your best mad-scientist cackle. “My creation! It’s aliiiive!” 

Stan laughs, quickly standing and caging you with his arms against the wall. “Damn right. Alive as ever.”

You shoo both him and the remark away, looking over your white “dress” (old sheet) to check for any green that may have made its way onto your costume. “I thought you were in a hurry, hmm? There’s no time for a touch-up. Now, be a good ‘husband’ and carry the train.”

Stan’s eyes roll as he lifts the gown, following your lead downstairs. “Yes, honey.”

Trying very carefully not to trip, Stan helps you down the stairs. “I still think it’s dumb that The Bride of Frankenstein doesn’t get a name, though. Sure, she’s in it for all of three minutes, but she gets the movie named after her and doesn’t even get a line?”

“Nah, she just screams,” Stan laughs, dropping your dress as you meet the front door. “Like it hurts to exist.” He swings the door open and the both of you speak in unison.

“She gets it.”

You share a small laughing fit at that, making your way outside into the crisp autumn air, giddy to begin the festivities. A few to last-minute adjustments and tech checks, and The Shack will be ready.

“Seriously though-- why can’t she be, like, Victoria or something?”

Over by the skeleton crawling out from under the porch, Stan snorts. “Victoria? Why?”

You shrug. “Why not?”

“Touche.”

It’s finally the tail-end of the second hour, and you’re in position behind the semi-trapdoor mechanism on the porch, hidden behind a dark and stormy castle standee. You’re high on the energy so far, after making some kids scream-squeal in delight. Although, you did manage to terrify a toddler on accident without even trying-- the poor thing burst into tears at the mere sight of you walking out normally from the porch.

Maybe it was the semi-realistic stitches on your flesh? Who knows. All that’s clear is you felt awful, but Stan was very clearly amused-- and jealous, you’d wager.

But now that it’s past bedtime for most little ones, it’s time to up the ante with some added special effects-- and the fast-approaching gaggle of baby teens seem to be the first that’ll enjoy them.

Always on top of it, Stan lets out a Frankenstein-like groan, marching further from the end of the porch, arms raised in cheesy classic style. The kids stop in their tracks as he clears his throat roughly to give the spiel he’s practiced all night, an extra ~spooky~ lilt to his otherwise mostly-normal voice:

“Foolish humans! You daaaare demand gifts, when your hubris created me from cursed flesh, and your hatred ensured my demise?!” He’s truly in his element as his neck bolts flicker for emphasis, making most of the middle schoolers jump and gasp.

The one at the front of the pack though, doesn’t budge, instead holding their pumpkin bucket out with an overall look of disinterest. “Yeah, duh. Trick-or-treat, old man. Hand over the candy.”

“Rude little shit,” you frown, not even needing to see Stan’s face to know he’s going to enjoy this particular scare very much.

“Hold it, kid, ” Stan sneers, continuing his introduction, “if you want anything good to eat, you’ll need to ask the most blood-curdling-- ”

You flip the switch for the fog machine, and bellows of grey creep in around the Shack--

“--The most SPINE-TINGLING, repulsive monster of us all--!”

You quickly step on the nearby button, and lightning flashes across the house as thunder sounds--

“ --MY WIFE! ”

At his signal, your spring forward, eyes crazed as a horrendous banshee screech leaves your throat and white tendrils wave in the wind.

The rude kid screams-- and while Stan bursts out laughing and you smile evilly, you miss them reflexively reach into their bucket, pull something out, and chuck it right at you before scampering away.

With a dull thud, the projectile lands on your head with a muffled thud, sending you off balance and toppling off the platform in a second. You hear Stan’s barks at the hoodlum, but soon he’s up the porch at your side, just as surprised as you are.

“The hell-- you alright, babe?”

Stan helps you up as you glance around for the offending object that’s left your head and the arm that broke your fall aching. “I-- what the fuck was that?!”

A large, off-white sphere rolls along a groove in the deck, moved by your shifted weight. It hits the edge of your shoe, and you pick it up to find it’s…

A popcorn ball.

A really fucking heavy, rock-hard popcorn ball.

With a splotch of white from your forehead smeared across it.

Stan’s bursts out laughing, though he doesn’t let his supposedly helpful grip on your waist go. “Who the hell gave that thing out?? They must’ve been saving it for last century-- ”

It’s funny. Like, really funny. Comedy freaking gold.

But your head hurts and you fell, and shit, your wig’s messed up…

Your own laughter breaks suddenly, and before you even know it you’re tearing up.

Franken-Stan blanches the soon as it hits him. “H-hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry-- are you alright?”

The comforting hands on your shoulder, the concern in his voice breaks the dam, tears spilling out despite your mind knowing better, and wanting to continue laughing it off like you should-- like you want to.

“I’m fine Stan, I’m fine, I-- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I really don’t,” you laugh, dabbing at your eyes with a bandage-covered hand. “That was too perfect.”

“Don’t apologize, that kid’s an asshole.”

“An asshole with a hell of a pitch,” You laugh, finally meeting Stan’s eye. 

“Wanna go inside? It’s gettin’ late anyway,”

“No! No, are you kidding? We just got started with the lightning! I’m fine, I promise--”

He raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“Really, I am. I’m the most horrifying creature of them all, right?”

“Hah! Sure are, sweet thing, sure are.”

“Then let’s get back to scaring. I’ll be ready to duck this time.” You laugh, elbowing Stan before getting back into place, and Stan follows.

11:27pm

There hasn’t been a kid in nearly 30 minutes, and with another hour under your belt, the pair of you are content to turn in for the night for some movies and the Halloween goodie bags left behind by scared trick-or-treaters.

Flopping down on the bed, your tired body practically sings. “Goddd, that kid really got me good.” The hands on your face muffle your words, but Stan gets the idea.

Taking pity on you, he pulls up the nearby chair and starts unlacing one of your boots for you. “Happens in the line of duty sometimes. Shoulda seen what one fairy princess threw at me one year-- actually, I don’t even wanna know what it was.” He jokes(?), tossing the shoe aside and beginning on the other.

“Knocked me down at the top of my game…” you mutter, twiddling with the end of a splayed-out strip of your garment.

“Hey,” Stan drops the other boot to the floor with a thud, quickly peeling off the striped sock that lay underneath. “Don’t forget, you scared the absolute shit out of that brat.”

You let out a hum, then chuckle. “Triggered his fight and flight.”

"Exactly,” he replies definitely, sling-shotting the second sock in the air. It lands on your chest, but you quickly toss it over to nowhere in particular.

“I don’t know if I can even get back up. Just let me die here,” you groan, only half-joking as the strenuous activities of the day catch up to you. “I’ll be a corpse for next Halloween.”

“Well, yer already halfway there in that getup,” Stan shrugs off the jacket of his costume and lets it fall on the chair. A glance across your form reminds him of the “bolts” attached to his neck, which he peels off with a wince. “And I’m not far behind ya.”

“I’ll be lucky if I look this good when I’m dead,” you laugh, adjusting to get more comfortable and fully prepared to just pass out, wig and all.

Stan’s eye catches on the bare skin of your leg that’s revealed when you shift, the stark white of your gown falling to the side as it bends at the knee and the other still hangs off the bed uselessly. He hums, appreciative of the sensual view of you before him: limbs draped out, black eye makeup smudged...

Your eyes fly open at the feeling of Stan’s large hand on your knee, and you’re met with a familiar mischievous grin on Stan’s still-green face. “Mmm, you’re already bewitching, babe.” 

That look always manages to send a pang through your gut. “Oh, stop it…”

This wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined the night ending, but don’t mind all that much if it’s headed where you think it’s headed.

“‘M serious,” Stan chuckles. “Yer right about The Bride too… never appreciated enough,” His thumb rubs a circle on the soft flesh on the inside of your knee, and you can’t help but sigh at the nice pressure. 

Your stomach nearly flips when he slides to his own knees, grip moving down your calf and lifting your leg to place a playful kiss to your ankle. His name falls from your lips in a whine, equal parts warning and pleading, for exactly what you can’t decide. You’re answered nonetheless by another peck just above the previous, then another with the slightest bit of teeth that makes you gasp and prop up onto your elbows.

The sight is absolutely ridiculous -- Frankenstein’s monster himself between your legs, smiling dumbly as he nips at the neglected one before he pushes excessive fabric up and off to reveal more of your form. “Stan, we-- oh my god--”

It’s when he pulls you forward on the bed that you see it: the splotches of deep green coloring the trail Stan is continuing up your thigh with a knowing look.

You laugh at first, starting to push him away so you can properly remove your dress, but he tuts, gripping your hips instead and curling an arm around your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder with an in-character groan: "You go nowhere.

You’re torn between teasing him about the fact that he’s really roleplaying as fucking Frankenstein right now, and the shudder that rolls through you as Stan noses your center through the cotton, saying: “Mine .”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say when his mouth meets between your thighs, teasing your folds through the fabric with a brazen tongue. You let yourself go then, leaning into the anticipation as after a moment Stan tugs the garment down and off, though it catches on your foot and is left dangling there uselessly.

“You’ll be screamin’ for me, don’t you worry,” he says, breath ghosting over your core before fully tucking in.

There’s no energy left in you to scream, but the needy whimpers and moans that escape as he ushers you up towards pleasure are melodic, a siren song that urges Stan to keep delving into your cunt, to hold your thighs open with a possessive grip.

“F-fuck,” you cry, reaching down and threading your fingers through his mop of black-sprayed hair between your legs. He groans mid-lap at your clit, and you gasp as his hands join in on the ministrations, caressing and petting from your hips to your stomach.

It’s when he starts sucking that you start to really writhe, tugging roughly at his locks to push him deeper. He slurps your arousal right up, the sound mortifying yet helping thrust you closer to the fast-approaching peak.

“C’mon, honey,” Stan says, thumb maintaining a rhythm on your clit. “Come for me, darling.”

The foreign pet name does it, sending a rolling orgasm that hits you in waves, crying out Stan’s name and other sweet nothings before going limp.

After a moment he sits back, more than proud as he wipes his mouth and watches you twitch and moan through the lingering pulses.

“Wow-- what was that all about?” You manage to pant out, made curious again as Stan stands suddenly, walking over to the mirror on the far-side of the room.

“Check it out,” he says, bringing the mirror to the edge of the bed and leaning against it with a self-satisfied grin.

Sitting up, your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed and glowing-- with a prominent mess of green smeared along your skin, practically outlining each and every touch that made you come undone. A few complete hand prints are even visible, on the backs of your knees, on your hip-- even a comically clear outline against the stark white of your covered chest.

Your face burns hot as you can’t help but laugh in disbelief, both at what you see and the unexpected thrill of it; it’s delightful, and silly, and sexy, and overall just an image you think won’t leave your head for a while.

Stan chuckles at your reaction, pleased. “S’a good look on ya-- damn near electrifyin’ , some might say.”

“Come here,” you ask, arms out to beckon him forward. He does, and you don’t miss the prominent bulge in his trousers as he walks over.

Pulling him down by his shirt, you lock him into an appreciative kiss, raking your nails across his scalp and practically pulling him on top of you to continue the makeout, bed size be damned.

Needing air, you finally break away, glancing back at the mirror to see green now decorating your mouth and cheeks. “You’d missed a spot,” you inform Stan, pointing to the new addition to your face.

He hums, ducking down to nip at your neck and clavicle, painting them just the same. “Could think of a few more spots needin’ a touch-up,” he growls, rolling his hips.

Snaking your hand into the band of his pants, Stan lets out another groan at your touch and when you say lightly into his ear:

“Looks like you could use some white with that green, hmm?”

Happy Spooky Season!! 🎃💚🎃

[Masterlist]

dividers by @strangergraphics and @firefly-graphics

[octuscle]

With the help of Allah

Bosse had been on the road for three days. On the road on a trip around the world as a gift for his A-levels. In fact, he hadn't been given very much money. But his parents had generously allowed him to start his studies in a year's time. And until then, with a little help from his parents, he was allowed to do whatever he wanted. The original plan had been to fly to Istanbul and make his way from there to Cairo by bus, train or hitchhiking. The war in Israel had thwarted his plans and so he had flown directly to Cairo. And after a day at the pyramids, he was red as a sheet and he was sick of everything. To give his skin a rest, he spent a day at the big bazaar today. At least it was shady there. Even if it was unbearably hot. But the posts of the last few days had been very successful; initially only family, friends and maybe a few teachers had followed him, but the number of his followers was actually growing by a few dozen every day. Measured against the initial number of perhaps 200 followers, that was a huge success. And this success was to be further boosted today with a few reels from the Bazaar.

The Bazaar was overwhelming. Confusing, full of people and smells. A babble of voices in which only a few snatches of words recognizable as English could be heard. Bosse loved the bazaar. But he hated the rubbing of his rucksack on his burnt shoulders. Suddenly he heard something. Rather unconsciously. Something irked him… It was… Swedish! Someone was speaking Swedish! "Unge herrn! Kom hit, snälla!" Bosse looked around. There was no one far and wide who was blonde and over six feet tall. He was in a crowd of short, black-haired people. And yet he heard it very clearly: "Unge herrn! Kom hit, snälla!" It was quiet… Much quieter than the Arab yelling of the other traders… But it came from one direction. Clearly… Bosse wasn't sure whether he wasn't beginning to hallucinate amidst the vapors of tens of thousands of people and the scent of spices from 1,001 nights. But the voice became louder and clearer "Unge herrn! Kom hit, snälla!" And then he was standing in front of the stall of a merchant who was one of the hairiest men Bosse had ever seen. Not many merchants showed their shoulders here in the Grand Bazaar. And to Bosse's taste, this man had better not have done so either… But now he stood before him with his hairy chest, hairy shoulders, hairy arms and huge, impressive beard. "Young sir, it's good that you're here. May I grant you relief from your pain?" Bosse looked at him as if bewitched. The man, who looked as Arabic as one could look, spoke to him in Swedish as if he had studied in Lund.

"Young sir, you are not used to the sun. The sun is the Arab's friend. But the enemy of the men from the north. Buy one of my amulets, young sir! And your pain will be alleviated." The merchant took an amulet from a stand and placed it on Boss's shoulder. The feeling was wonderful. Coolness flowed through his skin. The pain of the backpack straps at least on one side of his battered body. "Young master, only 40 pounds. Not even ten crowns yet! And you will sleep the sleep of the righteous tonight. No pain. Young master, try it. And don't pay until tomorrow when it's worked. No risk, young sir!" Bosse didn't even think about paying tomorrow. Obviously this amulet was at least not harmful. He took a 50-pound note and gave it to the merchant. "Young sir. I'll gladly take the money. But allow me: this is the great bazaar of Cairo. You must haggle. This amulet would never have been worth more than 10 pounds." Laughing, he gave Bosse 30 pounds in change. Bosse hung the amulet around his neck, put the 30 pounds in his wallet and turned around to thank him. He almost collided with a giant of a man. He was in the coppersmith's alley. There was no one selling amulets for miles around. Bosse mumbled a "Maghfira" and set off in confusion. He walked deeper and deeper into the bazaar. No souvenirs or sweets interested him. He needed new shoes. Something more practical than his sandals. And if he wanted to visit the mosque later, he should get himself a prayer cap. The amulet on his chest felt great. And his skin changed from a glowing red to a rich olive color. He moved as confidently as a cat in the corridors of the labyrinth. This felt so familiar. He greeted a familiar face again and again. Every store he stopped in gave him a cup of tea. Rumors and gossip were exchanged. Besse overheard a lot on his way through the bazaar. And he knew that information had to be bought with other information. By the end of the day, Bessem was exhausted. The pedometer on his cell phone showed that he had walked almost 15 kilometers. But it had been worth it. He had done everything he had planned for his day off. He had fed his TikTok channel with all kinds of news. And all he had to do was survive tomorrow, Thursday, and then it was the weekend.

Essam's day started early. His father was one of the biggest traders of copper in the big bazaar. And even though he was the crown prince, Essam was actually nothing more than an errand boy and porter. But Essam loves the job. He loved the bazaar. You met people all the time. Acquaintances and friends. But also strangers who gratefully let themselves be led out of the maze for a few pounds. Essam was well known in the relevant channels. Those who found him and let him "rescue" them were sometimes allowed to return the favor in kind. Essam was still a boy. But his cock was that of a stallion!

Pics by @ki-kink

[schmidtsbimbo]

if you’d like to you should def do a ethan x reader where the reader has a super shitty boyfriend and is enemies with ethan, making fun of him nd stuff like that

so what if to get back at the boyfriend, ethan fucks the reader and in like the middle of it ethan whips out his phone/her phone and calls the readers boyfriend, making him listen to her whimper/whine ethan’s name 😛😛

★Jealous Boy - Ethan Landry ★

𖦹Warnings: MDNI 18+, afab reader, unprotected piv, cunnilingus, cheating, pet names, hair pulling, fingering, slight dumbification if you squint

⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡

―୨୧⋆ ˚A/N: i love you for this idea anon, i kinda hate everything about this especially the ending, hope this still turned out okay! , made this so much longer than I originally planned or wanted to, pls let me know if i missed any warnings!

Word count: 1.9k

This has not been proofread^_^

Just hours ago you were arguing with your boyfriend at a stupid frat party you never wanted to go to in the first place.

Now you’re standing here in your kitchen, breath hitched in your throat as you stare at the man above you.

Pinned between his body and the dining table, his arms completely closing you in.

You look down, eyes landing on your phone that’s in his hand as watch message from your boyfriend coming in.

You hear a short and dry laugh come from the man above you as you move your eyes between him and the phone.

“Look at what a fucking loser you’re with y/n” Ethan says as he moves his arm, turning the phone towards you so you can read the messages.

You stare at the messages before you look up at Ethan, the sight of him smirking above you making you lightheaded and weak in the knees.

You stay quiet for a moment and get a split second of clarity as you look away from him.

“We shouldn’t be doing this Ethan” You say, voice full of doubt as you look back up at him.

You feel a shiver go down your spine as he inches closer to your face, his lips brushing past your cheek as they hover over your ear.

“I still don’t understand why you chose him when I’ve been right here” he whispers, lightly nipping at your ear and sending goosebumps down your entire body.

You stand there completely frozen, trying to form a single coherent thought as your chest is rising and falling trying to control your breathing before you feel his lips smashing against your own.

You let out a small shriek at the sudden impact but quickly sink further into it, making Ethan smirk into the kiss as he places his large hands onto your waist, pulling your lower body towards his.

He breaks the kiss and trails kisses down your neck as you part your lips at the sensation.

“Jump” he simply mumbles against your skin before he brings his lips back to yours.

You instinctively jump into his arms and let him lift you up, placing you on the table and never breaking the kiss as you spread your legs, letting himself position himself right between them.

He starts to trial soft and sloppy kisses down your neck, his hands running down your body as they reach the top of your jeans, tugging on them lightly as you eagerly lift your bottom off table with your hands, making it easier for him to slide the jeans down your legs till they’re discarded somewhere behind him.

Ethan’s lips make their way back up to yours, completely engulfing them like a starved man as his hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs rubbing small circles against the peak of your breasts, earning a small whine from you as your hands make their way up his shoulders and wrapping around his neck.

He breaks from the kiss and drops to his knees, grabbing your legs with his hands and pulling you closer to the edge of the table, your clothed heart right in front of his face as he lets out a groan.

“Just as pretty as I imagined” he says looking up at your face as he brings his hand up to your core, rubbing small circles onto the bundle of nerves under your soaked panties, making you throw your head back and hold back at the sensation.

His words send jolts of electricity and need straight to your core as you bite your lip, trying to refrain from letting out a whiny gasp.

He smirks at your reaction and starts planting slow and soft kisses up your thigh, almost torturing you with how slow and delicate he was being before he finally reaches your core, moving his hands from your thighs to the top of your underwear, ripping the fabric from your body with his bare hands and instantly diving his head between your thighs.

Giving you almost no time to react as he licks a flat stripe up and down your folds as you let out a gasp and throw your head back, your reaction making him smirk as he wraps his lips against your clit.

“Look at me” he mumbles against it, roughly sucking on your clit as he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place.

You let out a whiny moan at the harshness against your clit and bring your head back up to look down at him, your hand reaching down to his curls and gripping them as you watched him eat you out like you were the most divine thing he’s ever tasted.

You tug on his hair again, making him groan against your clit, the vibration of it making your brain foggy as the feeling of desire in you continues to grow.

“Ethan” you moan out as you involuntarily buck your hips up, earning another groan from Ethan as he tightens the grip on your thighs, the thought of his fingers leaving bruises on your thighs threatening to send you over the edge.

You try to hold it together as you try to form a single sentence, not being able to let out a single word but a pathetic whine, “Ethan, please”

At this he pulls away for a moment, your sleek making his lips shine as he looks up at you expectantly.

“Please what, baby?” He says as he leans back in between your thighs, planting a soft kiss directly on your clit that makes you buck your hips again, a small moan escaping from your lips, earning a chuckle from him as he pulls away again and looks back up at you.

“Use your words, princess” he whispers as he loosens his grip on your thighs, his lips hovering above the skin of your thighs as he waits for you to respond.

You let out a whiny moan at his teasing and bite your lip, not being able to form any words from how dizzy the sight of him on his knees with his head in between your thighs makes you.

He immediately stands up as the sounds leave your lips, engulfing them in a kiss as one of his hands wrap around your waist, your hands traveling towards his shirt and tugging on the hem of it as you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone and his pants dropping to the floor.

He breaks the kiss for a second to quickly remove his shirt and you follow right behind him, adding your shirt to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

He dives straight to your neck as he starts leaving marks and bruises all along your collarbones, his hand reaching down to your aching heat as he dips his fingers in between your folds, earning a quiet moan from your parted lips.

Within seconds you feel yourself lose control all over again at the feeling of his rough fingers rolling the small bundle of nerves in between his fingers.

You instinctively reach down for his wrist, not wanting to come undone so quickly.

“Ethan, please” you mumble against his lips as you move your hand from his wrist to the edge of his boxers.

“Please just fuck me” you finally moan out as you tug on his boxers, any feeling of embarrassment gone as it’s overpowered by the feeling of desire.

He lets out a groan at your words and breaks the kiss to plant sloppy kisses on your neck as he tugs down his boxers.

“So needy, just begging for more, begging me to fuck you” he says in between kisses as he grabs your hips with his hands, moving his head up so your foreheads are touching as he lines himself up with you.

Giving you almost no warning he slams himself into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size as you let out a gasp, throwing your head back as you feel him stretch you out in the most delicious way possible.

He quickly sets a steady pace, fucking into you fast as his arms hold you flush against his chest, making the table shake with every thrust as he snaps his hips into yours.

He tucks his head against your neck, letting out groans that instantly threaten to throw you over the edge, your own moans being muffled by the skin on his shoulders before he lets go of your body, pushing your back onto the table, never losing his rhythm as his hands hold a strong grip on your hips.

“Such a pretty girl” he says, slowing his pace down a bit, causing you to let out a small whine at the loss of friction his skin made against your clit.

“What would Jacob say if he saw you like this? Begging whining for me to fuck you?” He asks as he keeps his pace slow.

His words send waves of heat straight to your core as you claw at his arms, trying to get a hold of anything to try and control yourself to no avail.

You knew how wrong this was, cheating on your boyfriend with the one guy he told you to stay away from.

You knew how wrong it was and yet you’re crumbling beneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips, keeping a greedy hold on him as he fucks into you.

You watch him reach for something next to your head through your teary eyes, not being able to focus on what he’s holding.

“How about we call him, huh?” He asks as he starts picking up his pace again, making you clench around him as more moans start slipping from your lips again.

He groans at this and drops the phone next to your head again, quickening his pace as you start to unravel beneath him.

You hear the phone ringing and Jacob picking up within seconds, you no longer had any control over the noises you were making as the moans freely fell from your lips, not caring if Jacob or even the neighbors could hear you at this point.

You hear muffled yelling coming from the phone that gets completely tuned out with your moans and Ethan’s breathy grunts, letting out a small gasp as he grabs one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder.

Your eyes widen at the sudden change of angles as his tip brushes right against your sweet spot, making yo feel lightheaded as your climax is approaching fast.

“C’mon, let him know who’s got you this needy and whiny” Ethan says in between grunts and breathy moans, the words spilling from his mouth earning a whimper from you.

He reaches one of his hands up and tangles it in your hair, slightly lifting your head from the table as he grips your hair.

“Hmm? Too fucked out to talk?” He asks as he leans down to whisper in your ear, his words making you clench around him as you feel yourself seconds from climax.

“Ethan, I’m gonna come, please” you whimper out, not even thinking about what you say as the words leave your lips.

The pressure of the new angle and his filthy words sending you over the edge as you arch your back, chanting his name over and over again like a prayer.

His climax follows right behind yours as you start seeing stars from how sensitive you are, squeezing his arms trying to stabilize yourself with anything you can grab as he collapses on top of you with one final thrust, completely filling you up with his warmth.

You slowly start coming to your senses as the high starts to fade, becoming aware of your surroundings as the muffled yelling coming from the phone starts playing in your ears again.

Ethan gently lifts himself off of you and pulls out slowly, causing a small whine to fall from your lips at the loss of contact.

You watch him as he grabs the phone from the table and puts it up to his ear, a smirk playing on his lips as he lets out a chuckle before throwing the phone back onto the table.

He leans down and pulls your bruised and swollen lips into a kiss, breaking away from it as he puts his hand on the back of your head, placing your foreheads together.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

[fandoms--fluff]

Hellooooo sorry to bother you but do you think can right one of Katherine Pirces were she has a baby girl y/n and she’s like 4 months old and the salvatores brothers finds out about her they use her to take Katherine dawn but they don’t now that she ask the originals but specifically Elijah help to save ther daughter

Mama's Girl

Baby daughter reader x mom Katherine Pierce

Warnings: kidnapping,

A/n: I made a few tweaks in it, by making Elijah the father, but I hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katherine picks you up from your playpen which has two fluffy blankets and some stuffed animals. "You hungry baby girl?" Katherine smiles as you babble while nuzzling your head into her chest. "I'll take that as a yes" She kisses the top of your head before sitting down on the black leather couch beside the playpen.

She holds you with one arm and as the her other hand pulls a part of her black shirt down, releasing one of her breasts. She coaxes your head toward her full breast until you easily latch on. As you drink your mama's milk, she holds you protectively in her arms.

She doesn't know how the hell she had gotten pregnant, considering she's been dead a very long time. And it wasn't just her child, you, actually was growing inside her, but her body also changed for how it would when any other woman would be pregnant. ex. she produces breast milk. She's still confused but doesn't ask why anymore, just grateful that you're her baby.

The only two people who know about you are; Elijah and Kol Mikaelson. Kol saw Katherine walking around a park a couple towns over, obviously pregnant. He then later that day asked his big brother how he had managed to knock up Katherine, assuming that Elijah and she had hooked up. And he wasn't entirely wrong, Kol just doesn't need to know that. Elijah went over to her house and confronted her, they had a long conversation, deciding it was best to keep you a secret.

Or so she thought, not taking into account the two Salvatore brothers are staked out, across the road.

"How did Katherine get a baby? and she's caring? what the hell" Stefan says, turning over to his older brother.

"Well, baby bro, when two adults think it's time, they decide to start having se-" Stefan cut him off, "I didn't mean like that!" Stefan groaned.

"Whatever, this is our chance to have something to finally take the vampire bitch slut, down," Damon says, getting out of the car. Stefan sighs before following Damon down the road.

Damon explains the plan he made to Stefan, which they put into action.

Katherine looks up, something seems off. Before she can get a second thought, the front door is knocked off it's hinges and vervain grenades are thrown in. Getting into a coughing fit from the toxic herb, she sees a figure of someone coming over to her with a mask.

As soon as he gets close to her, Damon snatches you out of Katherine's arms and speeds out of the house. Katherine quickly stands up, adjusting her top back, but before she can go after him in a weakened state, someone grabs her from behind. The second person, Stefan, wraps his left arm around her neck until she can no longer breathe in air, passing out quickly from the vervain still in the air.

Stefan lets her drop back onto the couch and walks back outside, peeling the mask off his face. "Now what?" He asks Damon, watching as he tries to make you stop crying. His attempts are proven useless, making you cry louder about being taken away from your mama.

"Oh come on, can't you be quiet, you're going to make a scene with how loud you are" Damon whisper yells at you.

Being a baby and not understanding anything he's obviously saying, you just scream louder.

The brothers quickly get into Damon's car with you, Stefan having to hold you, insisting to Damon it's not a good idea to just throw you in the backseat and hope for the best. He drives off before Katherine has a chance to reawaken.

Coughing, Katherine slowly opens her eyes. The light shining through the windows tells her it's still daytime. Recollecting her memories of what had happened while she stands up makes her freeze. She quickly vamped around the entire house, not finding her baby, you, anywhere.

Damon and Stefan, the two names that come to her mind. They took you. All she can do is pace back and forth, a look of murder in her eyes. But she has to play this smart, if she just goes crashing in there alone, she's more than sure that there'll be everyone there. They'll obviously be expecting that.

She goes to the coffee table where her phone still lays from earlier and dials a number.

"Katerina, how are you doing?" Elijah's smooth voice emits from the phone as he picks up.

"Not well, considering the Salvatores found out about y/n, came crashing in, took her, and now are probably thinking of ways to take advantage of our daughter against me" Katherine exclaims, having no time for small talk.

Elijah's eyes widen and he reassures her everything is going to be okay and to meet her in the woods by the boarding house. Katherine follows his instructions clearly and immediately leaves the house.

Katherine gets to the woods in record time, she looks around before feeling a hand on her shoulder. She quickly turns around, ready for a fight. Though it's just Elijah.

"My apologies," Elijah says.

He starts explaining his plan of what they're to do. Katherine follows every bit and nods before heading to the back of the house, out of sight from anyone inside.

While she hides out back, Elijah goes to the front door. He knocks a few times before Damon opens the door. He gives a suspicious look towards the original.

"I believe this is the part where you invite me in," Elijah says.

He pauses for a second before stepping to the side, letting the older vampire inside.

As Elijah walks down the stairs into the library, he lays his eyes on you. You're currently being held by Caroline. She's been trying to cheer you up and to stop your crying but nothing has worked. You're not wailing anymore but there are still tears running down your tiny cheeks every now and then.

He puts on a facade, acting surprised at the sight of the baby. Caroline and everyone else notice this. Caroline walks over to the other side of the room and places you into an old wooden crib they had found in the attic.

"What's the occasion of your visit?" Damon all but growls, not happy about an original vampire being in his home.

"Just the fact that you have apparently acquired a baby in a short amount of time. I'm only curious" he says, trying to ignore your looks for him. You see the man in the suit is recognizable as your dada. He comes over a lot and holds you and cares for you, and makes your mama smile.

You hold your arms up in a grabby motion. Everyone hasn't noticed. They're all focused on Elijah as there was no way that he just happened to know two hours after they had taken you. Someone must have been watching them.

Damon and Stefan are standing in front of Elijah, whose back is facing you, the rest of the gang all stood behind the brothers.

Katherine watches from behind the door, knowing what to do next. She opens the door and makes her way inside, causing the gang's attention to go to her.

"That was stupid of you" She sneers, her vampire face on display.

As your mama distracts everyone else, your dada quickly goes over to you. He picks you up and vamps out of the room through the same door Katherine left wide open.

"What-" Elena started saying and turned around, seeing that you and Elijah are gone.

Everyone else followed her action and before they knew it, it was only them. You, Katherine, and Elijah, are long gone.

Katherine follows Elijah to a clearing in the woods. He's cradling you against his chest, slightly swaying you as you calm.

"I'm so sorry I let this happen, I never wanted anything to happen to her," Katherine tells him, feeling an emotion she hasn't felt in a long time, guilt.

"There's nothing to apologize for. There was no way for you to know what was going to happen" Elijah says, softness in his eyes. "Come, I have the perfect place for us. It's out of town and secluded" he smiles.

As they make their way there in his car, they talk the whole time as you're sound asleep in your car seat.

[circus4apsycho8]

Hi, I hope you are doing well!! I was wondering if you could write a ninjago Cole x reader where the reader is the teams medic. Cole, being the muscle of the team, usually gets hurt a lot and the medic has to patch him a lot on and off the field. They grow closer and close and eventually become an established relationship. Angst, smut, fluff, whatever, full creative freedom! Love your writing!!

Hey, thank you very much! Love this request! I will be making this a 2-3 part series. One of the next chapters will feature a second related request, I believe. Originally I was going to publish it all at once, but then I decided to break it up a little bit. Also, not sure how accurate the wounds and whatnot are, but I tried :v Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: stab wounds, cussing, mild gore descriptions

Word Count: 11.9k

Masterlist for this Fic

knife to meet you. | cole x reader | chapter i

The clock is going to drive you insane. 

Tick after tick, the hands click on, your sanity diminishing with each passing second. For the millionth time tonight, you rip your gaze from the dragging hands of the clock. Not even three minutes had passed since you’d last checked the time. A frustrated sigh tumbles from your lips, eyes venturing down to stare at the tea supplies scattered about the table before you.   

“Stop looking at it,” you grumble to yourself, returning your hands to your task - bagging tea leaves and ingredients to assemble Mystake’s latest recipe. Her new tea is set to launch tomorrow, and she could be a stickler for keeping fully stocked shelves. The thought makes you sigh, knowing you’ll certainly be busy in the morning. Perhaps the promotion would make the day go by faster. 

The repetitive motions of your hands eventually allow your mind to shift into autopilot mode, hands running on muscle memory as you wonder how much longer you would be here for - you’d come a long way since training as her apprentice, and by helping her with the shop, she allowed you to live with her rent free.

And while you’re forever grateful for Mystake’s kindness, you know this isn’t what destiny has planned for you. Running a tea shop was her dream, not yours. Deep within your heart, you feel yourself growing antsy. You wouldn’t thrive here, and a part of you wonders if you’ll end up stuck here. 

The bell above the door chimes, snapping your body out of autopilot and into customer service mode. The smile plastered on your face masks the annoyance at having to serve someone so late. Who even thinks to buy tea this late at night? 

You hop off of the stool. “Good evening! How can I-”   

The sight before you jerks your body out of autopilot, a horrified expression overcoming you as your eyes process the scene in front of you:   

Three men dressed in gis stand before you, two of them supporting a man in a black gi - his head is drooped, and he’s limp. His arms are strung around the necks and shoulders of two men on either side - one dressed in red and the other blue.   

“Please,” grunts the one in blue. “We need help!”   

“He’s been stabbed, and we didn’t know where else to go,” adds the red one, both looking at you with desperate faces. “You can treat wounds, right?”   

For a moment, you freeze. Mystake isn’t here, and she always takes care of these things. You’ve only ever observed or helped with guidance. She certainly wouldn’t make it back in time to help.   

What would she say right now?   

...She’d tell me not to freeze. Just work and do what you were trained to do. Make a decision. 

You snap out of your stupor, realizing that you’re on your own. This man needs help now, and you know you’ll never become a healer if you don’t start doing things on your own.   

So, you force yourself to swallow your fear. “Okay. Take him in the back; take a right, then enter the second doorway on the left. I’ll be right there.” 

The two oblige without question, immediately making their way to the back of the store. After making your way to the front, you lock the door and flip the sign to ‘closed’. Next, you jog behind the counter, swiping the emergency medical kit you always had stocked. On your way to the room, you swipe a certain tea you know you’ll need later.   

With almost everything you need in hand, you hurry through the maze of tea shelves and doors until you arrive in the medical room.   

The two men have lowered their friend on top of the bed, with the red one pressing down on his abdomen. Blood cakes the lower parts of his arms, eyes wide with fear as he holds the pressure.   

“The blood…it’s not stopping,” the brunet drawls, tensing as he stares at the wound.   

“Here, let me,” you state, immediately coming to take over. He relents, stepping off to the side. “I need you guys to grab me a few towels. They’re in the cabinet to the right.”   

They nod, rushing to gather what you need. You’re quick to start applying pressure to the wound, face twisting in determination as you hold the fabric in place. The stabbed man grunts, hissing as he tosses his head back in pain. Normally a reaction like this would scare you, but you’re too hopped up on adrenaline to care at the moment.   

“I’m sorry. I know this hurts like hell, but I have to get the bleeding to stop,” you sympathize, eyes still trained on his wound. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the blue one frozen at the side. Looks like he could use something else to focus on. “Hey, blue guy. Can you start steeping that tea bag over there? I know it’s an odd request at such a time, but just trust me.”   

“Tea bag? Y-Yeah, I’m on it.” Thankfully, this snaps him out his stupor and gets his hands busy.   

You note that the red one looks antsy too. A glance at the injured man’s tattered top gives you an idea for another task.   

“And could you get his top off, please? I need to make sure he wasn’t hit anywhere else this badly.”   

“Yeah. Yeah…okay. I can do that,” he replies, eyes lingering over the blood momentarily before he snaps himself out of his stupor. His hands fumble to his belt, where he slips out a small, silver shuriken.   

You shuffle out of his way as best you can without hindering your progress on the wound, watching as the shuriken slices through the fabric. Mr. Red Guy gently pulls the sides off and out of your way, allowing it to drape over the sides of the table.   

After thanking him, you quickly scan the rest of the stabbed man’s torso. There are a few bruises and cuts, but the stab wound seems to be the brunt of the damage.   

From there, the room falls quiet save for his pained grunts.   

“Fuck,” he curses, voice taut. “How...how’s it looking?”   

“You’re gonna pull through, man,” replies the red one, his voice coming out stronger than he looks. “She’s got the blood loss slowing down.”   

The blue one, on the other hand, doesn’t sound as put together. His voice is shaky and his eyes are glassy, but you can tell he’s trying to sound optimistic. “Yeah, Cole, you’re going to be just fine.”   

“How’s the tea looking?” you inquire, trying to distract him from whatever’s making him upset. You need everyone to remain calm until the bleeding has stopped.   

“I think it’s ready. Do you need it?”   

“Yes, please,” you reply. “Have him drink as much as he can, even if it’s only a few sips. It should ease the pain a little bit and help prevent infection.”   

The redhead nods, going to prop his friend’s head up while the other holds the teacup for him. You listen as they speak softly to him, words too quiet for you to hear.   

It takes you a minute, but thankfully you’re able to get the bleeding to stop. Soon enough, the wound is sterilized and bandaged properly with the man now unconscious on the table.   

You find yourself absentmindedly cleaning the last bits of blood off of his torso, realizing that the three of you are all quietly processing the night together.   

“Are you two okay?” you speak suddenly, shifting your gaze to them. “You’re not wounded, are you?”   

“No, we’re okay. Just a little cut up and bruised, but nothing we can’t handle,” the spiky-haired brunet assures. “Thank you. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t helped us.”   

“It’s what we do. I’m glad I was able to help him,” you dismiss, smiling softly as you return your gaze to the task at hand. “Oh, and by the way…” You take a moment to introduce yourself. “I’m Mystake’s apprentice.”   

“Only an apprentice?” the redhead wonders.   

“I thought you were a master medic, what with the way you handled that. But yeah, I’m Kai, that’s Jay, and he’s Cole.”   

You nod in acknowledgement, attempting to commit their names to memory. “Thank you. Well, I wish it was under better circumstances, but nonetheless it’s nice to meet you all.”   

“Likewise,” Kai replies.   

You debate your next question momentarily, but decide to just ask anyway. “And do you mind if I ask what happened? Stabbings are rare around here.”   

“Well, I’d say you’ve more than earned an explanation for us barging in here with a dying man in the middle of the night, then handling it like a pro,” Jay interjects. “We were on a mission to investigate an incident of serial burglaries that had been occurring around a town close to this one.”  

“Long story short, we find the guys, confront them, then things start to get heated,” Kai continues, staring off into the distance. “So, we start fighting, trying to apprehend and whatnot. Cole doesn’t draw his weapon yet because he’s pretty well-versed with hand-to-hand combat.”   

“It was my fault,” Jay interrupts, eyes turning glassy again as he averts his gaze. “One of them tripped me up, and I caught sight of the knife they had. And I…I just froze. I don’t know why. But he pushed me out of the way just in time, and he took the hit in my place.”   

“It’s not your fault, Jay,” Kai assures. “This was a rough job for us all. And it doesn’t help that Zane wasn’t here to help.”   

“The important thing is that you’re all alive and healing,” you say, dumping another bloodied towel into a nearby bin. “And he’s going to be just fine.” 

“I still can’t help but feel bad,” mumbles the redhead, your heart dropping slightly at the sight of his guilt-laced stare. “He shouldn’t have to look out for us when he already takes the brunt of the damage.”   

Their words pique your interest, causing you to glance up with a puzzled expression. “So you guys do this a lot, then? Are you vigilantes or something?”   

“We’re ninja,” Kai responds, gesturing to the symbols on both of their gis. “We recently finished our training with our master, and have been fighting to make Ninjago a safer place ever since.”   

“Oh, I see!” you reply. That certainly explains the strange outfits and weapons. The conversation reminds you of a rumor you had heard from a few customers one day a few weeks ago. “You know, now that we’re talking about it, I had heard rumors about ninjas surfacing somewhere and taking out bad guys. I just didn’t think much of it considering nothing major has happened in our town since.”   

Kai grins slightly at this, eyeing Jay with a small smirk. “Hey, sounds like we’re starting to make waves.”   

“Waves? I think you’re giving us too much credit,” Jay notes, stifling a yawn.   

“But it’s a start,” Kai adds, also yawning. The action makes you realize how late it is, knowing the two must be exhausted from the night’s events.   

“Alright. It’s late, and he’s about as cleaned up as I can get him right now,” you comment. “If you two will just help me move him onto a stretcher, I can get him hooked up to an IV and then he’ll be set for the night. Mystake will want him to stay so we can monitor his vitals and ensure that the wound doesn’t become infected. You both are welcome to stay here while he’s recovering; we’ve got a spare room and extra clothes for times like these. Please, follow me.”   

…   

With Kai and Jay now settled in for the night, you find yourself preparing the IV for Cole in the recovery ward of the shop.   

As your fingers work, you find your gaze drifting to the man before you. Now that he’s stable and your adrenaline rush has passed, you have time to observe him.   

His gi had been black - that much you remember. Your eyes drift across his bare torso, noting that he has a few scars across his chest. His stature is muscular - seemingly more so than the other two.   

You tear your gaze from him, double checking that everything is ready before taking his arm in your hands, flipping it over to find the right vein. Once you do, you insert the IV. 

The action makes him stir, eyes opening slightly. Immediately, he tries to sit up, but your muscle memory kicks in just in time to push him back down.   

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” you say, holding him down gently. “You’re okay, but you need to rest.”   

Thankfully, he settles, eyes relaxing slightly at your touch. Jaded green eyes study your figure as you gaze at him, watching to see if he’s going to try and get up again.   

“Where am I?” he wonders, voice hoarse. “I barely remember what happened. Everything’s patchy for me...I remember that room, Kai and Jay were there...then I couldn’t stay awake anymore.”   

“You’re at Mystake’s tea shop. This is our recovery ward. You were stabbed in a fight, and your friends brought you here. You’re all patched up now, but you need to rest so you can heal properly. Your friends are just in the other room.”   

“Stabbed? Oh…it’s coming back to me now.” He groans, shutting his eyes and letting his head drop onto the pillow again. “Are they okay?”   

“They’re fine, just sleeping now,” you assure.  

It’s then you realize that you still have a hand on his chest. Your cheeks heat up as you snatch your hand away. “Oh stars, I’m sorry! It’s just been, well…a long night. I guess I’m just a bit distracted now that the action has passed.”  

Cole chuckles, averting his gaze. He winces a bit, making his smile fade slightly. “You’re okay. I hadn’t even noticed.”  

“Your name is Cole, right?”   

“Yeah,” he mumbles.   

You tell him your name, words stumbling out in a mix of your default introductory statement and the mush that is your mind at the moment. “I’m Mystake’s apprentice. It’s knife to meet you.”   

Upon processing the phrase you’d added through your post-adrenaline exhaustion, your eyes widen. “Oh my god. I’m sorry, I-I did not mean to say that out loud! That was so inappropriate of me-”   

“Wow,” Cole responds, shaking his head at you with a small grin. “You can’t just cut down the stab victim like that, doc.”   

“I’m sorry!” you squeak before realizing that he, too, made a pun concerning his injury. “Wait...you’re not upset?”   

“Of course not. You saved my life,” he replies, glancing back down at his wound. “And I appreciate your humor. I know the guys have been pretty down about the whole ordeal, so it’s nice to know that you can at least make light of it.”   

“Oh,” you reply, not expecting that response at all. “Well...I’m glad that you’re okay with it. I see so much gore these days that I...” you trail off, realizing you shouldn’t be spilling your innermost thoughts to a patient.    

You shake your head, nervously chuckling as you take a step back. “I’m rambling, sorry. Are you hurting right now? I can get you a bit more of our pain-killing tea. It might help you sleep, too.”   

“That sounds great,” he replies. “Thank you.”   

You nod, standing up. “I’ll be right back, then.”   

With that, you make your way towards the kitchen. You get another cup of tea steeping, taking the down time to drink a bit of water and get a snack.   

A few seconds after you finish, you hear the door to the tea shop opening. You peek your head out from the back, relief coursing through you when you see Mystake behind the counter.   

“Thank the stars, you’re back!” you say, sighing as she turns to you.   

“I am. You closed the shop early?” she inquires, hanging her hat up on its usual spot.   

“Yes. Two people brought in a man who had been stabbed, and I had to treat it and I-” you trail off, the stress of the situation finally catching up to you as tears pool in your eyes.   

Mystake sets her hands on your shoulders, guiding you to sit down. “A stabbing? Oh dearie…I know it’s scary, but you did the right thing. He’s stabilized now, yes?”   

You nod as she takes your hands in hers, sniffling a bit. “Yeah. I was going to give him some of that pain-killing tea so he could sleep.”   

“Very good, very good. Here, finish what you’re doing while I have a look.”   

Your stomach twists, hands coming to fidget as you nod in response. “Okay, yeah. Thank you.”   

With that, you’re left alone once more. Anxiety meshes with your post-adrenaline rush, leaving you lightheaded and nauseous. You can’t help but zone out for a bit, only jerked away from your thoughts when the water starts squealing.   

The tea doesn’t take you long to prepare, and soon enough, you find yourself approaching the recovery ward once more.   

The lights have been dimmed, causing you to wonder if he’s suffering a headache. You can still see well enough to notice that he’s still awake, though. Mystake is nowhere to be seen, meaning she must have finished her exam.   

“Here, this should help,” you say, setting the tray on the table next to the bed. “It should be cooled enough to drink. Try to drink as much as you can.”   

You hand him the cup, keeping an eye on his hands to make sure he doesn’t spill it.   

“Thanks,” he mumbles, hands seemingly steady enough for the time being. He takes a sip, face melting at the relief it must be bringing. “God, this stuff is magic. How does it kick in so fast?”   

You shrug, smiling softly as he takes another sip. “I’m not sure. Mystake’s teas are incredible. She’s a master at her craft, that’s for sure.” 

“Makes me wonder what else she can do with her teas,” he mumbles. 

“You’d be surprised. She’s like a tea witch,” you reply with a chuckle. “Do you need anything else? Extra blankets, another pillow, snacks, water...?” 

“I think I’m good for now,” he mumbles, sighing in relief. “This is already working wonders.” 

“Okay. If you need anything at all, just push the button on the side of the nightstand. We’ll try to check on you shortly after sunrise. Try to get some sleep for now.” 

“Being unconscious sounds great about now,” he mumbles. “Thank you.” 

You nod in response, smiling softly as you take the tray back into your hands, leaving the mug for him. 

Just before you exit the recovery ward, though, his voice sounds once more: 

"For the record, it was knife to meet you too.” 

...   

Mystake lets you sleep through the new tea launch, much to your relief. You don’t think you would have had nearly enough energy to deal with the rush today – not after all of last night’s excitement.   

Once you rise, you stumble through your morning routine. Yawns rake your body as you attempt to wake up, brain foggy as you emerge from your room.   

You can already hear customers chattering in the front, causing you to redirect to the kitchen. Through streams of unfamiliar voices, you can faintly hear Mystake’s voice vividly describing her newest creation. Looks like she’s doing just fine by herself so far. Which is great, considering you need a hot drink before you can even think about the public.   

Upon arriving to your destination, muscle memory kicks in and you start working on your drink without thinking much about what you’re doing. Your hands work in quiet tandem, voice humming a tune while you listen to the distant voices of consumers and employees alike.   

Once you’ve finished, you lean against the counter and take a sip.   

Soft footsteps catch your attention, eyes drifting towards the entrance. Moments later, two groggy and disheveled ninja catch your attention.   

“Morning,” greets Kai, hair frizzy and wild. Jay is in no better shape, eyes lined with circles as he offers a tired nod.   

“Morning, guys,” you reply, setting your drink to the side. “Doing okay?”   

“Yeah,” Kai responds. You gesture for the two to have a seat, and they do. “Thanks. Is it okay if our Sensei drops by with our other teammate today?”   

“Of course,” you assure. “What time will they be here?”   

“Probably about an hour or so,” Kai answers.   

Jay raises a notched eyebrow at this. “An hour? That’s...unusually quick for him, don’t you think?”   

The brunet nods in agreement. “Now that you mention it, you’re right. Although he did say something about a smoke vision and needing to see something for himself.” Kai shrugs, running his fingers through his hair. “You know how he is. Cryptic and old.”   

“A smoke vision?” Jay wonders. “Every time he has one of those, something big happens. What could it be this time?”   

“I don’t know. He didn’t say much about it, just that he needed to come see something in person. Who knows?”   

“I just don’t get why a near-death experience would be something that triggers a vision,” Jay mumbles. “Oh well. His wisdom works in mysterious ways, I guess. It hasn’t failed us yet.”   

Kai shrugs, not seeming too concerned about the ordeal. “Whatever it is, it’ll work out. Anyways, I’m starving. How about we make a breakfast run, huh? Let’s make it a race so we can get some blood pumping on our way there!”   

You raise an eyebrow, chuckling nervously as the two start thrumming with an energy that wasn’t present last night. Maybe resting and seeing their patched-up teammate has brought it back? Then again, you don’t really know what’s normal for these guys either.   

“You’re on!” Jay stands, a playful determination glinting in his eyes as he turns towards you. “Hey, what’s good around here?”   

“There’s a small diner around the block that’s always good,” you note. “But you guys don’t have to-”   

Jay makes an ‘ah-ah’ noise, shaking his head. “Nope. You saved our brother’s life, and for that you’re at least getting free breakfast.”   

“And more upon request,” Kai adds with a flirty smirk and wink combo. You roll your eyes as he dodges a hit from Jay.  

“Kai, you can’t just flirt with the doctor!” Jay admonishes, the two already zipping out of the kitchen. You try to follow them, but they’re flying out the door while yelling at each other.  

All while going the wrong direction.  

You sigh, chuckling to yourself as you shake your head. Oh well; they’ll figure it out. It certainly seems like they’ve got more than enough energy to spare today.  

“What in the world are they so riled up about this morning?” Mystake wonders, staring at the entrance. It seems as if the initial customer rush is over for the morning, but there are still a few milling about and browsing.  

“Breakfast, apparently,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I don’t know. I’m going to go check on Cole. I’ll be right back out to help.”  

“Actually, I’ll need you for something else today. Pack your bags, dearie – I’ve got a job for you that requires traveling.”  

“Traveling?” you wonder, turning towards your mentor. She merely flashes you an innocent smile – even though you’re sure it’s anything but.  

“Yes. You’ve proven to me that you’re ready to start taking jobs on your own. So, we’re going to start trying them out if you’re okay with it.”  

“Do you…do you really think I’m ready?” you wonder. “I know I was able to handle last night, but…”  

“I do not think it is the disease, nor the injuries that scare you. It is the threat of change. You’ve been cooped up in my store too long, and now it’s time for you to work on your own more often.”  

Her words strike you speechless momentarily. A change was what you’d wanted, right? More independence? More time to work on your own? But…this isn’t just any old job. It’s healing, and people’s lives are on the line. People’s lives are in your hands. Is that a responsibility you’re truly ready to take on?  

A part of you wants to say no – to stay within the comfort of your routine, despite its repetitiveness. That way, you would always have help when you needed it. That way, you wouldn’t have to confront the daunting question of:  

What comes next for me?  

Mystake places her hand over yours, sensing your debate. “The leap into the unknown is always the hardest part, but it is one we all must conquer at some point. I know you’re scared – of making mistakes and determining what your next steps are. But that’s life. Mistakes are how we learn, my dear. Heck, that’s why I’m called Mystake!”  

“But mistakes can get people killed,” you reply.  

“They can. But you’re not trusting in yourself or your training enough. What happened yesterday is rare – in my lifetime, I’ve only treated a handful of stabbings. And most of the time, they weren’t as life-threatening as Cole’s was. You’re not giving yourself enough credit – you took action, followed your training, and saved a man’s life as a result. Look at it that way.”  

You nod, watching as her steely eyes twinkle in a knowing fashion. “And truthfully…I don’t know what more I have to teach you. I truly think you’re at the point where experience will be your greatest teacher. Everything will work out for you; you just have to let it all fall into place. Before you know it, you’ll settle into your new normal without batting an eyelash over it. Because by then, it will feel right. And you’ll have been forever grateful that you took the leap.” 

“Okay,” you reply, letting her words steep. “Okay, I understand.”  

She smiles, setting a hand on your shoulder. “How about you take the day off from the store to think about it? Just tend to your patient and make sure his bandages stay clean. We can talk more about it later.”  

“Alright,” you say, nodding in response. “Thank you, Mystake.”  

With her words in mind, you set off to check on Cole.  

…  

Upon arriving, you note that Cole is already awake. Mystake must have dropped by this morning, because he’s reading a book you recognize from her prized collection. You take a moment to observe the way the strands of his dark hair fall around his face as he concentrates, eyes scouring the pages. It doesn’t help that he’s still shirtless, too – you’d been too exhausted last night to notice, but he’s nicely toned. To think you’d had your hand on his sternum, too…  

You shake your head, reassuming your professional demeanor. No checking out the hot ninja patient!  

“Good morning,” you greet, offering a demure smile as you gently shut the door. “How are you feeling, Cole?”  

“Good morning. Definitely better today,” he answers, gingerly shutting the book and setting it to the side.  

“I’m glad to hear it!” you chirp, noting that he’s also got a fresh mug of tea. “I’m going to have to check your wound quickly to make sure it’s not getting infected. I’ll get you some fresh bandages too. Our hope is that you’ll be back on your feet within the next two days or so.”  

“Sounds great,” Cole replies. As you make your way towards the supply chest to the left of the room, he calls: “Going to make fun of me again?”  

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to make fun of you,” you retort, grinning as you pull out a set of clean gauze as well as a special type of antiseptic cleanser.  

“It’s better than being tiptoed around, that’s for sure,” he says as you pull a rolling stool up next to him. You set your supplies on the nightstand next to him, pulling on a pair of gloves. The bands snap against your skin as you wiggle your fingers until they fit snugly inside.  

“Your friends were just worried about you. Really worried,” you reply. “But they seem better today. Way more energetic, that’s for sure.”  

Cole simpers, shaking his head lightly. “That’s good to hear. Speaking of which…where’d they run off to?”  

“They’re grabbing breakfast,” you answer. It’s then notice that his wound is covered by the blankets, so you push them aside. Cole ends up bunching up the sheets, letting them rest over his middle. With the fabric now out of your way, you start peeling the gauze away.  

“Alright, let’s see here…” you trail off, inspecting the wound. Everything looks okay so far – no signs of infection or reopening. Good. “Not infected. Seems to be on its way to healing. That’s good. We’re just going to clean it with an antiseptic and magic-infused solution. Its purpose is twofold: to prevent infection and speed up the healing process. It should help the cut fully close within a day or so.”  

“Great,” Cole acknowledges, watching as you pour a bit onto a clean rag. The solution fizzes, emitting a faint, white light.  

“Fair warning, it’s going to sting,” you advise, waiting for the glow to simmer down a bit.  

“Then I may not be able to handle this.”  

You roll your eyes, unable to help but smile as you look up at him. Grassy green eyes glimmer back at you playfully as you respond: “Now you’re just being a baby.”  

“Do you call all of your patients babies?” he questions, grin faltering to a grimace as you start cleaning the wound. The liquid sizzles angrily against the wound, working its magic.  

After letting it soak for a few seconds, you start wiping the excess off. “Well, considering you’re the first and only patient that I’ve fully tended to, yes.”  

“I’m your first patient? That can’t be true,” he remarks, studying your hands as they rebandage his abdomen with fresh gauze.  

“From start to end, you are. Mystake has let me practice on others before, but only on certain phases of their injury or illness. You’re the first person that I’ve both patched up and tended to during recovery. And all by myself, too.”  

“Huh. I never would have guessed that from watching you work. You’re a natural.”  

His words leave you speechless for a moment, cheeks warming as you finish rebandaging him. “Thank you; that’s sweet of you to say. I’ve still got a lot to learn, though.”  

“But I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. Give yourself some credit.”  

Unsure of what to say, you smile at him in response. Cole returns your grin, pulling the blanket back over his torso. Somehow, the quiet between you two feels…fine. You know he doesn’t mind your lack of response. It’s comfortable; not forced.  

You like that.  

A moment later, you avert your gaze, fingers slipping underneath the bands of your gloves before pulling them off. “Well…I guess I’ll be back with something for you to eat soon. I imagine they won’t be much longer.”  

“Sounds good. Thanks, doc.”  

The nickname makes your heart stumble, but you’re able to play it off. “Absolutely.”  

…  

The ninja return soon enough – not only with breakfast, but with two unfamiliar people in tow. One appears to be around their age, dressed in a white gi while the other is an elderly man donning a bamboo staff and straw hat.  

“Sorry we’re late!” Jay says as they file into the store. “We ran into our master and teammate on the way back and had to catch up.”  

“That’s okay,” you assure, noticing that the two newcomers linger at the front. Kai and Jay, on the other hand, rush to the back. Knowing Mystake will greet them, you elect to follow Kai and Jay to the dining table.  

“We realized halfway through ordering that we didn’t ask you what you wanted,” Kai admits, sheepishly grinning. “So…we just got a bunch of different stuff. Whatever you don’t want, Cole will eat. I assure you.”  

“No worries,” you reply, watching as they unload the to-go bags. A mouthwatering scent floods the air, comprised of all kinds of breakfast foods. You note that they bought many more containers than you would have initially guessed, but factoring in the realization that ninjas probably eat more solves that puzzle. Just how much do these guys eat? “Have you two checked on him yet, by the way?”  

“Yeah, we talked to him this shortly after we woke up,” Jay answers, spreading out a mound of wrapped, plastic to-go cutlery sets. Hungry hands are quick to snatch them up. 

“Good. I just changed his bandages; I think he should be up and walking within the next day or so. We’ve just got to make sure the wound stays clean for now.” 

“Do you think he could come sit with us if we help him?” Kai wonders. “Kinda sucks that he’s stuck by himself.” 

You don’t answer immediately, taking a moment to ponder the decision. “Yes, he can. But we’ll need to use a wheelchair so we don’t risk reopening the wound. I’ll help too.”  

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Cole is successfully relocated to the dining room. Kai makes you pick a container of food before shuffling the rest to Cole. Everyone settles in – including the two newcomers. Mystake remains in the front for the time being. 

Kai starts off the conversation by introducing you, then the other two: “...this is Sensei Wu, and that’s Zane.”  

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” you greet, flashing the two a smile. 

“Likewise,” returns the snowy-haired ninja. He seems far calmer than his teammates, and sports a more sophisticated personality. “We are most grateful for your aid.”  

“Why? All she did was stick a band aid on me and call me a baby,” Cole replies as everyone starts passing around food. 

Kai and Jay snicker, both accepting their to-go containers of food with ravenous eyes. Zane’s eyes scrunch in confusion while their Sensei chuckles. 

“Only a band aid?” the icy-eyed ninja wonders. “Perhaps I heard the details of your injury incorrectly-“ 

“It’s a joke, Zane,” Jay explains as he unwraps his to-go plasticware. “The injury was really bad, but she got it under control.” 

“Did you actually call him a baby, though?” Kai wonders, eyeing you expectantly. 

You find your cheeks warming again, with expectant eyes on you. “Uh…I did, yeah. But only because he said he wouldn’t be able to handle the sting of the antiseptic when he’d just survived a stabbing-“ 

At your explanation, Kai and Jay break down in a fit of laughter. Cole shakes his head with a grin, but the mood remains light. It’s such a stark contrast to last night’s atmosphere that you can’t help but giggle too. 

You can see it in Kai and Jay’s eyes, too - Jay’s striking blue eyes are twinkling with mischief, making the bags under his eyes seem less prominent. Kai’s warm brown ones are tired too, but seeing his teammate recovered enough to make light of the situation seems to have alleviated the worry he’d been experiencing throughout the night. 

And, when you look at him, you can see it in Cole’s, too – the way his vibrant, green eyes have almost brightened since you studied them last night. They had been faded and dull yesterday, but thankfully that’s no longer the case. 

You avert your gaze before he can catch you staring, though, electing to focus on your food instead. 

“Regardless of whether or not my pupil was acting like a baby, I’d still like to thank you,” interrupts the elderly man. You note how the ninja quiet down upon hearing him speak, glancing at each to see that they’ve given him their attention. “You saved my student’s life, and for that, we’re all eternally grateful.” 

A chorus of agreements emanate from the ninja as the reality of the situation settles over the group. “Of course. We’re healers; it’s what we do. I’m glad I was able to help.” 

For a moment, it’s silent until Kai speaks up: “Oh, did you guys catch the last suspect? I know I managed to get two before the third slipped away.” 

“Yes, we located him before we came here,” Zane answers. “He’s in custody now.” 

Cole nods, apparently satisfied with the answer. “Good. I’m glad.” 

The conversation turns towards the ninja’s training. While you don’t understand much of what they’re talking about, you’re able to chime in on occasion. They still manage to include you in the chat – namely when Jay suggests you could become a “ninja doctor”. 

Which somehow turns into a debate about the conflicting nature of such a title – a ninja who could heal and hurt. It stuns you how the ninja are able to get so philosophical about something so silly. 

“No, no, Kai, you’re missing the point. It’s like what Master Splinter said in the twenty-twelve version of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” Jay argues before quoting: “’Do no harm, unless you need to do harm. Then do lots of harm!’” 

Kai narrows his eyes, pondering Jay’s claim momentarily. “So, by that logic, are we all healers, then? Because we don’t do harm unless we need to?” 

“Kai’s right,” Cole agrees, starting on what must be his third box of food. “That’s too general to go by. But it is a fantastic quote, though. Sounds like something Master Wu would say.” 

“It does, doesn’t it?” Jay frowns, trailing off. “But she could be like Donatello, though. He fights but also kind of serves as the team medic.” 

“No, no, Donnie’s way smarter than I am,” you counter. “I can’t invent or do anything as scientific as he can.” 

Jay shrugs. “But you don’t have to. You’d just heal one of us and then go smack someone up with a bo staff.” 

This makes you all chuckle, and leads you to another thought: “Hey, do you guys realize how similar you are to the ninja turtles?” 

A collective epiphany dawns on Kai, Jay, and Cole as they stare at each other, eyes widening. 

“Woah,” Jay mumbles. “Wait, wait, guys she’s onto something!” 

The redhead points at Sensei Wu, then trails his finger across the table. “Sensei…you’re basically Master Splinter. Cole’s our leader, so he’s Leo. Kai’s the hothead, which makes him Raph. I’m the funny and cute one, so naturally I’m Mikey. And Zane’s the brainiac, so he’s Donnie. And Nya’s kind of like April!” 

A sound of awe emanates from three of the ninja, nodding their heads at Jay’s analysis. Poor Zane just seems lost. 

“Are you comparing me to a giant, mutated rat man?” Sensei Wu questions, amusement laced in his gaze. 

“So, you do watch modern TV!” Kai cries, pointing an accusatory finger at Wu. “See! I told you he was lying to us!” 

From there, they start to laugh about Wu before comparing the villains they’ve fought to the ones that appear in the show. That’s when you’re not able to keep up as well. 

Regardless, you roll with the flow of the discussion, surprised at how much you’re enjoying it. A few times, you catch Cole’s stare. 

He never averts his gaze, or makes you feel embarrassed. Instead, he smiles. 

You’re not sure that your heart is supposed to be beating so hard every time it happens, but you can’t help it. Even so, you ignore it. 

… 

Shortly after breakfast, the ninja wheel Cole back into the recovery ward. Zane remains momentarily to help you clean up before joining them. 

“I hope they haven’t been too rowdy,” comes the voice of Sensei Wu. 

You shake your head. “No, they’ve been great. They’re…fun, actually. I’ve enjoyed having them around.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’ve been training them for a good while, but even now they can be a handful.” 

The old man quiets momentarily, free hand stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Mystake tells me you’re considering new opportunities to practice your craft. Is this true?” 

“Oh, um…yeah, it is. I’m still not sure what I’m going to do, but…yeah, definitely thinking about it.” 

Sensei Wu nods in acknowledgement, eyes contemplative as he selects his next words: “I see. Well, I heard about how you handled Cole’s injury from Kai and Jay. If you’re interested, I’d like to offer you a position as our team’s medic.” 

Your eyes widen as your jaw goes slack, the unexpectedness of the proposition making your mind whirl. He wants you to become their official medic? 

“What? Really?” you wonder. “But I don’t have any field experience yet! Cole is the first patient I’ve tended to from start to finish.” 

“That’s all right. We’ve all got to start somewhere. The ninja themselves have only just finished their training and are now fighting together on their own. You’re similar to them in that regard. For all of you, experience will be your greatest teacher from now on.” 

That sentence reminds you of what Mystake said earlier – about experience. It dawns on you that they’re absolutely right – you’re never going to get better by letting your fear win. You have to break the confines of comfortability and get out there. 

Then, a question occurs to you: did Mystake know about this? Is this the job that she was talking about earlier – the one you were supposed to pack for? You’d have to ask her later. 

“And if you like, we could even try out, say…a trial. You could come work with us for a few weeks and see how you like it. If it’s not what you’re looking for, then you won’t have to commit.” 

“I…like the sound of that, actually,” you admit. “So…how would that work?” 

“You’d stay at my monastery. Depending on the circumstances, you might travel with the ninja for missions that are riskier or farther away. Of course, you won’t ever get close enough to be in danger. If you like, we could even have you trained to help design our missions. Kai’s sister handles a decent portion of the mission planning, but a fresh set of eyes always helps.” 

You like the sound of that. Traveling? Learning new skills? Working alongside the ninja? Just imagining the variety presented by the job gets you excited! 

“Sounds dynamic and fun – which is exactly what I’m looking for. Let’s try it out,” you reply, offering your hand. 

The old man grins, shaking your hand. “We’re looking forward to working with you.” 

… 

A few hours pass, with the ninja and Wu slinking back to the recovery ward. You take an hour or so for yourself, hanging out in your room while thinking about what you’d take for your trial run with the ninja. After much debate, you manage to get what you need packed while leaving out enough items for the day or so it’d take Cole to get back on his feet. Mystake’s healing antiseptic works wonders, so you know it’s simply a matter of time. 

You wind up feeling too antsy to settle down, so you insist on taking over for Mystake while she takes a lunch break. 

Thankfully, the main rush is over for the day. Once the last few customers pour out of the store, you decide to start restocking. A soft hum sounds from your lips as you climb a stepstool, a box of tea tucked underneath your arm as you make sure to maintain your balance. 

While you work, a soft whistling tune drifts from the hallway, accompanied by heavy footsteps. When they approach the entrance to the shop, you turn your head. 

Kai stands there, checking the shelves with scrutinizing eyes. You huff a silent laugh, wondering what’s he looking for. 

“Need something?” you wonder, stepping down from the ladder. 

“Oh, hey. Didn’t see you,” Kai notes, pivoting around to face you. “Yeah, Mystake was asking for me to grab some kind of tea. Reme-tea, I think she said?” 

You nod, gesturing for him to follow you towards the back. “I know what you’re talking about. Follow me.” 

“Are all of her teas named with puns?” he inquires. 

“A lot of them are. She thinks she’s funny,” you mumble, rolling your eyes affectionately. “But she names others a little more artistically.” 

“That explains a lot of what Master Wu drinks. He must shop here a lot.” 

“I can’t remember if I’ve seen him here before,” you admit, stopping when you reach the correct shelf. You rummage through the tea, frowning upon realizing the shelf needs to be reorganized. “I’ve served so many customers that their faces might as well be a blur to me – especially since a lot of them come during the early hours.” 

“I get that. I used to work at my parent’s blacksmith shop with my sister. Can’t say I miss the work; it got way too repetitive and bland for our taste. I can’t smith to save my life. It was a miracle that we made enough to scrape by.” 

“Blacksmithing, huh? Sounds hard,” you sympathize, glad that someone else understands the pains of customer service. Even so, you wonder why his parents wouldn’t help them out. Knowing that might be a sensitive topic, you elect not to pry. 

“Yeah, suffice to say it…wasn’t for us. I’m glad Sensei Wu found us when he did.” He pauses momentarily as you move your search to a different shelf, wondering where in the hell Mystake moved the Reme-tea. “But that reminds me…Sensei said you’d be staying with us to test out a work opportunity.” 

You nod. “Yeah. I’ve been dying to get out of here, honestly. I’m just kind of scared to get out in the field, but…you know. I won’t find out until I do it.” 

The brunet nods, turning to glance over the other shelves in an effort to help your search. “I know the feeling.” 

“You were nervous to become a ninja?” you respond. 

“Yeah, I was scared, but…I didn’t really have a choice. My sister was kidnapped by a group of Garmadon’s goons who’d come to our village. If Sensei hadn’t saved me, I would have been a goner…but they still got away with her. I had to change because she needed my help. So…I swallowed my fear and just worked. I didn’t give myself a chance to think about it. I went with Wu and didn’t look back.” 

You gasp at the story, frowning. “I’m so sorry…that must have been horrific. I can’t imagine…” 

Kai shrugs, smiling softly. You finally find the tea you’re looking for, reaching to grab it. 

“It was scary at the time. But Nya’s tough, and she ended up being just fine. We saved her, introduced her to the team, and…well, we’ve all stuck together since. I dunno, I guess things just kind of…fell into place for us.” 

You nod, curious at the mention of his sister. “I’m glad to hear that’s she okay. How do you guys like being ninja?” 

“Honestly…” Kai trails off, seemingly searching for words as the two of you linger in the back. “At first, I was only doing it so I could rescue her. But…after we got her back, the thought of returning to the shop just…filled me with dread. I knew I couldn’t go back to the way I was living. Being a ninja is way more fulfilling for me. We get to travel, meet new people from all over Ninjago, fly on our dragons, fight for the greater good…and that’s all I need.” 

“Wow. That sounds…perfect,” you mumble, mulling over his words. 

He nods in agreement. “It really is. I think you’ll like working with us. My sister’s going to love you; as well as we all get along, I think she gets sick of us sometimes. But you’ll know for sure after a week or so. Though, you never know – you might get sick of us.” 

You snicker at this, shaking your head. “I won’t get sick of you. Honestly…it’s been nice having you guys around, even for such a short time. I’ve never felt so…” 

“Engaged? Not in a haze of repetition?” he finishes with a knowing smirk. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

“That’s how I felt too, working with the guys for the first time. It’s safe to say that’s a good sign.” 

You nod, the two of you walking back towards the hallway. Once you’re there, you hand him the tea box. “I think so too.” 

Kai smirks, thanking you before starting back towards the recovery ward. On his way back, he calls: 

“Besides…how else are you going to keep making fun of Cole?” 

… 

The day passes with you dining alongside the ninja again – this time with Mystake. You notice that she’s uncharacteristically quiet through the event, causing you to make a mental note to ask her about it later. 

Cole’s injury is healing faster than you’d thought it would. Mystake’s antiseptic solution combined with a new tea made for a speedy recovery. At this rate, he’d be up and walking come tomorrow. 

As such, the team is preparing to leave. Watching them restlessly discuss what they’d do when they return made you realize your time in the tea shop is drawing to a close. 

And it simultaneously excites and terrifies you. 

While you lay in bed that night, you wonder if this is how Kai felt when he left to become a ninja. He had said he’d been scared. Somehow, that comforts you. Even someone as confident as him got scared too. 

Late into the night, though, your mind gets tired of worrying. Instead, you decide to get excited about trying something new. 

That thought makes you smile as you drift off into a dreamless sleep. 

… 

It seems like you’d only been asleep for minutes when you jolt awake to the vibration of…something. It rocks the building, making your eyes widen. Was that an earthquake?! 

Another one shakes the shop, this time accompanied by…a roar? Your heart races at the noise, wondering what it could be. Especially at this hour – a glance outside tells you that it’s either very late or extremely early. 

Chills erupt across your skin as you exit your room, eyes searching for potential source as you make your way towards the front. It must have come from outside. 

Even before you open the door, you can hear voices outside. They don’t sound panicked at all, which makes you feel somewhat better as you push the door open. 

Immediately, you’re met with the crisp, morning breeze. It makes you shiver, wishing you’d thought to bring a jacket out beforehand. The sky is still dark and riddled with stars, leaving you to wonder what time it is. Regardless, you press on, looking up to see Kai, who is facing the alley and speaking lowly to something. A strange, red glow illuminates his figure. 

Cole, Jay, and Zane are towards the left side of the shop, all speaking quietly amongst themselves. Cole is back on his feet and seems to be doing okay. Even though it’s early, a sense of restlessness courses about the four. They must be ready to get back into action. 

Deciding that you’ve stared enough, you make your presence known. “Guys? Is everything okay?” 

The brunet is the only one to hear you, holding one of his arms out towards the alleyway. “Hey, morning. Sorry, did we wake you?” 

You shake your head, stepping a bit closer. “No, I just...heard something.” 

“Yeah...about that,” Kai lowers the hand that he’d held to the alleyway. “Those noises were our dragons. Sorry, we probably should have warned you guys beforehand. It just didn’t cross our mind.” 

“Dragons?” you repeat, glancing into the alley. “You guys have-” 

A pair of vibrant, neon orange eyes stare at you from the darkness, making you freeze. Out from the alley creeps a dragon. 

A growl rolls from its throat as it studies you, its red head flecked with streaks of orange. Unfurling from its sides are a pair of brilliant red wings that exude a warm, red light. Its underbelly is protected by many rows of thick, orange bands that contrast against the darkened red scales of its body. Beneath the bands, you can see red patches swirling with energy. 

You take a step back, seeing Kai’s arm swing out in front of you when the dragon steps towards you. It snarls again, giving you a mean glare. 

“Stop being an asshole,” Kai scolds, stepping up to the beast while glaring at it. It lowers its snout, allowing Kai to pet it. “It’s okay, boy. She’s a friend.” 

“You...have a dragon?” you question incredulously, heart racing as you study the creature. Its – his? - eyes flutter shut at Kai’s touch, wings furling in so that he doesn’t appear as massive. 

 “Yep. We all do,” Kai replies, gesturing behind you. You spin tentatively, breath hitching as you see three more accompanying each of the ninja. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe, anxiety snowballing into excitement as you take your time studying each of them. “They’re...they’re beautiful. I never thought that I’d get to see one in person...” 

“Wanna pet him?” Kai offers, hand lingering on his dragon’s neck. “Though, fair warning, everyone else except me says that he’s hot to the touch. Not hot enough to burn yourself, but hotter than you’d expect.” 

You nod in acknowledgement, cautiously lifting your hand. The dragon doesn’t flinch, trusting in his master as you gently place your hand flat against his snout. A grumble rumbles throughout his body, seemingly okay with your touch. Through your legs, you can feel the vibrations of the growl. This has to be what woke you up. 

“Wow...” you say, noting that Kai was right – the scales are burning up. It’s almost like they’re containing a full-on wildfire underneath. “Why’s he so hot?” 

“He’s a fire dragon. He was guarding the Sword of Fire when we found him,” Kai explains, smiling softly as he strokes the side of the dragon’s snout. “Same story with the others and their weapons. We realized we needed to fight alongside them, not against them.” 

“Did you guys name them?” you wonder, glancing back at Kai. 

“Yeah. Flame.” 

“Hi, Flame,” you mumble, smiling at the dragon. He huffs softly in response, small columns of smoke puffing from his nostrils. You feel like you’re standing in front of a bonfire; you don’t have to be terribly close to experience the warmth emanating from his body. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

Kai chuckles, taking his hand off of Flame. “He likes you.” 

“I...I’m at a loss for words. This is the coolest thing ever...” you trail off, slowly taking your hand off of Flame as well. The fire dragon shifts so that he’s laying down, snout dropping to rest on the grass. You're reminded of a sleepy puppy. 

Jay’s is the next dragon you greet. 

“Meet Wisp!” Jay introduces, telling your name to the dragon even though he can’t talk. Wisp tilts his head, curiosity flashing in his electric eyes. This dragon is a gorgeous shade of blue, built similarly to Flame with one exception. If you had to guess, you’d say that Wisp is sleeker – made for speed. Wisp also appears to be friendlier than Flame. 

“Wisp. That’s an adorable name,” you compliment, smiling as you approach the dragon. “Hello, Wisp!” 

You tentatively reach your hand out, giggling when Wisp bumps his forehead against the palm of your hand, eager to be pet. Jay grins at the interaction. 

Unlike Flame, you swear Wisp’s scales are tingling with underlying magic. Electricity tickles your skin, making you pull away from the dragon with a giggle. 

“He’s tickly, isn’t he? Poor guy can’t help it; he’s always emitting a low amount of electricity,” Jay explains, gently scratching Wisp in a specific spot under his chin. Wisp hums in content, leaning into Jay’s touch. 

“That’s amazing,” you reply, smiling at Wisp before turning to the next dragon. 

This one is Rocky – Cole's dragon. This guy is certainly the bulkiest of the four, with scales that feel like rock underneath your fingertips. He seems to be made to take and deliver hits. 

“Hi,” you say softly, carefully scratching the area above his nose. Rocky nuzzles his snout against your palm, eager to receive more pets. 

“Oh, you’re a sweetheart, aren’t you?” you coo, watching as the dragon closes his eyes. 

Cole pushes himself off against the wall he’d been leaning on, adorning a disbelieving expression. “Are you kidding me?” 

“What?” you wonder. 

“He’s usually a jerk,” Cole grumbles, glaring at Rocky. You’re not fluent in dragon expressions, but you have a feeling that Rocky is taunting Cole somehow. “He’s always pushing us around, not...cuddling us! What’s your deal, man?!” 

“I think it’s because you’re mean to him,” you retort, laughing when Rocky bumps his snout against your arm. You realize he wants more pets, so you oblige without complaint. 

“Or because he’s a baby!” Jay calls, earning a laugh from Kai. 

Cole rolls his eyes, stepping beside you to pet the dragon as well. You take note of how Cole’s eyes soften upon seeing his dragon. The sight makes you wonder what kind of bond they have, and how it came to be. 

“And now they’re never going to let me live that down. See what you’ve done?” Cole says, turning to you with a smirk. 

“I don’t feel too bad,” you retaliate before moving to the last dragon. 

“Who’s this?” you ask, directing your question to Zane. He’d been sitting quietly alongside the icy blue and white dragon, which is laying down behind him. 

“His name is Shard,” Zane answers, tone soft as he glances up at you. “And I must apologize...he does not like being touched by people he doesn’t know very well. I imagine he will come around in a few weeks.” 

“Oh, that’s okay. I understand.” You smile, studying the dragon a bit longer. You decide to leave him alone for the time being, instead swiveling around to face the other ninja. 

The other two dragons have settled for the morning too, all laying down. Kai and Jay are near the front of the shop now, the two speaking quietly. Zane joins them a few moments later. 

Cole steps beside you, watching the three before answering your unasked question: “I think they’re going to try to get a quick sparring session in before we go. They need to loosen up and let some energy out.” 

“You’re sitting out, right?” you inquire, eyes narrowing in concern. 

“Yeah. I know the cut finally closed all the way, but it still hurts,” he comments. 

“Good. I know that stuff healed your wound pretty well, but Mystake is still putting the finishing touches on that particular formula. So just...take it easy for a few more days, then you can go back to crimefighting and whatnot.” 

“Are you saying you used me as a test subject?” Cole replies, crossing his arms as Jay gestures towards a small clearing across the shop. It’s grassy and spacious – perfect for a spar. You and Cole follow the three there, standing towards the side as Kai and Zane get into position. 

“We try our new teas and potions on ourselves before anyone else,” you say. Just from observing their stances, you can already see how differently these guys fight from each other – Kai's stance is loose, and he’s staying mobile while remaining focused on Zane. The white ninja, on the other hand, adopts a more formal version of Kai’s. He’s not as jittery as Kai, but he’s studying Kai. Watching, and waiting. 

“And then you just...perfect them as time goes on?” Cole wonders, the two of you watching as Kai launches an attack. 

“Pretty much. Once you understand the base recipes, and how different ingredients affect the base, it’s easy to come up with what you need. So, there’s not much risk in involved.” 

“I see,” Cole trails off, cringing when Zane exploits an opening Kai failed to notice. The white ninja lands a kick on Kai’s torso, eliciting a curse from the red ninja. 

“Ouch,” you hiss, your ribs hurting just from watching them. “How do you guys do this? And enjoy it?” 

“It pays off in its own way,” Cole replies with a shrug. “The risk is part of the thrill for us.” 

“I think you guys are just crazy,” you mumble, eyeing the fight. 

Your statement makes Cole laugh, the ninja unfolding his arms as he turns towards you. “You know, most people just call us noble. Or brave. Heroic, even.” 

“I’m sure; I’m just not much of an ass-kisser.” 

“And that’s exactly why she needs to be our medic,” Kai calls, he and Jay laughing at the exchange. 

“I am not familiar with the act of ass-kissing,” Zane says, he and Kai stopping their match. “Is it in a literal or figurative sense? And why is imperative that our medic does not kiss ass?” 

The white ninja’s remark cracks Kai and Jay up. Zane’s expression leaves you feeling a little bad for him, though. 

You lean over to Cole again, making sure they aren’t listening as you ask your next question. “Is he always that dense?” 

“Yep. Don’t get me wrong...he’s really smart, but stuff like this always flies over his head,” he answers before walking towards the others and answering Zane’s query.  

“Figuratively, Zane. An ass-kisser or kiss-ass is someone who sucks up to someone else. It’s usually to win approval or favors; it depends on the context. And it’s not a required quality of a medic, but personally, I think it’s more fun that way.” 

“She’ll be able to see right through our bullshit,” Kai adds. “She’ll do her job, but won’t baby us.” 

Jay pulls himself up from his previous sitting position, stepping over to the group and adding: “Although, she’s not opposed to calling people babies.” 

"Ah. I see now,” Zane says. “Thank you for the explanation.” 

A silence sweeps over the five of you, partnered with a sudden chilly breeze. You turn around to have another glance at the dragons, watching as they all nap peacefully. A few onlookers have gathered towards the end of the street, ogling the dragons with hushed murmurs. 

“We should probably get going soon,” Kai notes upon seeing the crowd. “Wouldn’t want to affect Mystake’s customer flow with our dragons.” 

“Yeah,” Cole agrees. “We can strap your stuff to Rocky. He’s probably the best suited to carry extra weight.” 

You nod in response, realizing that this is the last morning you’ll spend here for at least two weeks – more if the job goes as well as you think it will. A pit funnels into your stomach, hands twiddling with the hem of your shirt. 

“Okay,” you finally say, turning back towards the ninja. “I’m gonna go talk to Mystake, then.” 

Cole nods, bits of understanding flickering in his eyes. “Take your time.” 

You smile appreciatively, leaving the group and passing by the snoozing dragons. The bell chimes as you enter the shop, seeing Mystake at the register. 

A glance at the clock tells you that the shop has roughly forty-five minutes until opening, giving you a bit of time to say your goodbyes. 

The elderly woman looks up at you once you approach, smiling as you greet her. 

“Good morning,” you say. 

“Good morning, dearie,” Mystake says, expression softening as she glances out the window to look at the ninja. “I suppose today’s the day, isn’t it?” 

You nod. “Yeah...it is.” 

She steps around the counter, hand coming to clasp around yours. “Come with me. I need to give you something.” 

Your mentor guides you towards your room, where your packed belongings lay. On top of your bed is a canvas bag. You note that’s it is your favorite color, complete with a crossbody strap, several pockets, and metal clasps. It looks to be built for durability and function – the straps are thicker than you’d expect to find on a regular bag. 

“I’ve prepared this for you,” she starts, sitting on the edge of your bed. You do the same, settling in across from her. “I’m glad you’ll be working with Wu. I always give him a hard time, but he’s a good man. And, since I’ve known him for so long, I had an idea of what you should bring.” 

With that, Mystake tugs the bag into her lap, snapping the clasps open. “This bag contains everything you’ll need to get started.” 

The first object she pulls out is a wooden box – it's handcrafted and painted your favorite color, decorated with floral engravings along the sides. “This box is filled with your basic teas and potions. There should be enough for two weeks. Should you decide to stay with them, I’ve made something else for you.” 

Mystake sets the box aside, hands delving back into the bag to reveal a handcrafted leather journal. The cover is black, painted with pink and purple symbols that seem familiar somehow. The pages are thick and gray, like a stormy sky. 

“This is a copy of my recipe book. Every potion and tea you’ve ever crafted under my guidance can be found here – with the exception of my secret ones, of course. There are also a few blank pages in the back so you can create your own, too.” 

Then, Mystake tilts the bag towards you. You peer inside, seeing various basic medical supplies – bandages, gauze, simple over-the-counter medicines. It looks like enough for two weeks as well. “And, lastly, traditional medical supplies. Enough for the duration of your stay." 

With that, Mystake repacks the bag and sets it aside. 

Your eyes are watering slightly as you stare at the bag, watching as she snaps the clasps shut. “Mystake...I don’t know what to say. I...” 

She chuckles, taking your hands in hers. Wrinkled, steely gray eyes peer at you from underneath her straw hat, just as glassy as yours.  

“It’s okay, because I already understand how you feel. I know what you want to say. I was in your position once, after all. I was standing before my family in my homeland, about to travel into this world so I could fulfill my duty. But I never could have imagined what awaited me in a Ninjago – a land where I could live a mundane life, set up a silly old tea shop. A land where I had the blessing to train one of the brightest pupils that I’ve ever mentored.” She pauses, squeezing your hands. “I’m so proud of you.” 

That does it. You sniffle, letting yourself cry. “You are?” 

“Of course I am,” she mumbles. “You’ve come such a long way since the day I found you. And now you’re preparing to work on your own…” 

“Mystake…” You’re unable to finish your sentence as you envelope her in a hug – the woman who’d taken you in, mentored you. “You…you have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you.” 

Her arms coil tighter still around your figure, and against your arms you can feel the scratchy wool of her handknitted sweater. An herbal scent floods your senses as you soak it in, knowing this will be the last time you smell it in a while. 

It would forever remind you of her. 

“I’m honored I got the chance to mentor you, and get to know you as a young lady. You’re going to do incredible things. The world is yours, dearie; grab it by the neck and throttle it!” 

You giggle, already knowing that you’re going to miss her eccentric self. “I won’t ever be able to repay you for everything that you’ve done for me. All I can say is: thank you, Mystake. I’m going to do all I can to make you proud. I’m forever grateful for your hospitality and mentorship.” 

“You’ve already made me proud. I know you’re going to be amazing. You’ll be the best damned medic in Ninjago, you hear me? Now get out there and make it happen. They’re waiting for you.” 

With those parting words, Mystake stands, pulling the bag she’d prepared into her arms. “Ready?” 

You make sure you have your bags before nodding, glancing around your room one last time. Without your belongings scattered about the room, it seems far too empty. Your eyes soften as you study the area, heart aching when you realize you won’t be coming back to sleep here again for a while. 

Despite your reluctance, you smile, mumbling a soft “thank you” to the room that had sheltered you for all of those years. 

A sigh escapes you as you turn, following Mystake out of the shop. 

The sun is higher in the sky now, and the dragons seem to be reenergized. Jay and Wisp are play fighting where Kai and Zane had been sparring earlier; Cole is fussing over Rocky while Kai is adjusting a saddle on Flame. Zane and Shard are still sitting together, watching the others struggle. 

“You rapscallions better treat my pupil well,” Mystake grumbles, eyeing the crowd still ogling the dragons. “We can hurt just as well as we can heal-” 

“Mystake,” you interrupt, chuckling as Jay’s eyes widen. “It’s going to be just fine.” 

“Here, let me take those for you,” Cole replies, reaching for your bags. You oblige, grinning softly at him as you hand them to him. 

“Thank you,” you reply, watching as he sets them on Rocky’s back. Kai approaches once he’s done, holding a mix of ropes and bungee cords. 

The two set about strapping your luggage to the dragon, making sure that they’re secure before asking Rocky to move around a little. After a few adjustments have been made, Cole nods in approval. 

“Alright, I think we’re about set,” Cole notes, glancing around at the others. “Who’s gonna take Wu back?” 

“I can,” Kai answers, the four grouping together as Sensei Wu emerges from the store. 

“Alright. Then I guess we’re headed back to the monastery, then,” Cole replies. The others nod in agreement, preparing to board their dragons. The black ninja takes a moment to double check the bags before turning to you. 

His green eyes sparkle in the morning light, lips quirking into a soft smile. “Anything else you need to do before we take off?” 

You don’t answer immediately, instead turning towards Mystake again. Wordlessly, you loop your arms around her neck. 

She returns your embrace, voice soft in your ear as she says: “I’m going to miss you, but I’m glad you’re pursuing your dream. Remember what I said. Take care, dear. I’m always here if you need me.” 

“Thank you. I’m going to miss you too.” 

She pulls away from you, lips pressed together tightly as she releases you. “Now go.” 

For a moment, your throat tightens with the things you want to say to her. Despite this, you hesitate, realizing that she already knows what you want to say. 

With that, you turn back towards the ninja before you, glancing up at him through glassy eyes. 

“Okay,” you murmur, nodding briskly. “I’m ready.” 

Always happy to read fresh requests. Read my guidelines before submitting, please!

Masterlist for this Fic