#its too cold just to go outside i have to go to a coffee shop or smthn

[max-the-mouse]

this morning sucks :////////

[moonstruckme]

poly!wolfstar x reader or whimsical!reader would be absolutely wholesome Maee!! Love and hugs 💖 have a lovely day 💫

(to clarify I'm not the anon who mentioned wolfstar previously. I'm just a lovesick of these two lol. hope the request is ok! Sending good vibes your way✨)

Awh I love them so much! Thanks for requesting sweetheart, hope you have a lovely day too <3

cw: squished snail :(

poly!wolfstar x whimsical!reader ♡ 900 words

Remus comes home, juggling his umbrella with three drinks from the coffee shop down the street, to find you and Sirius kneeling outside your front door. You seem to be placing dead leaves in a circle around a wet-looking smudge on the ground.

“Um.” He steps under the overhang of your roof, adjusting his hold on the drinks to set down his umbrella. “What’s going on?”

“We’re surrounding the snail with dead plants so it can be nourished in the next life,” Sirius says easily. Like this is something he does often. “Watch your step, handsome.” 

Remus heeds the warning, stepping carefully around the circle and behind the two of you. That’s when he notices your clothes. 

For Sirius, wearing black isn’t so unusual. He knows it sets off his tattoos and comparatively milky complexion, and he loves nothing more than a dramatic juxtaposition. But you, Remus didn’t even know you owned clothes this colorless. Your dress is loose and flowy, an inky black that’s more of a contrast against your generally lighthearted disposition than it’s ever been against Sirius’ coloring. You look lovely as always, but like a dulled version of your usual self. 

“Are we having a funeral?” Remus asks carefully.

Your posture is slumped, droopy as a weeping willow. “Yeah,” you reply glumly. “I went to take out the trash, and I couldn’t see in front of me. I crushed them.” Your voice seems to quiet further at the end, some mixture of shame and mourning clogging your throat. 

“Them?”

“The snail,” Sirius clarifies. He rubs between your shoulder blades. “It was an accident, sweetheart.” 

You nod, taking in a bolstering breath. “A funeral feels like the least I can do to try to honor them after cutting their life short.” 

“Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you.” Remus kneels on your other side, ignoring Sirius’ sharp look when he can’t help a little grunt at the ache in his joints. He sets your drinks where they won’t get knocked over. “Maybe this was a very old snail, and you found it at the end of its life.” 

“I just hope they didn’t leave a family behind,” you fret. 

“I’m sure even if they did,” he says, reaching for his most reassuring tone, “their family would appreciate what a nice resting place you’ve made for them.” He pets the back of your head. “And that you’ve dressed up so nicely to say goodbye.” 

You turn your face towards the ground, and Remus notices a soft pout to your bottom lip. Sirius seems to spot it at the same time. The other boy lifts your chin to kiss at it sweetly. 

“Do you want to say a few words, lovely?”

Remus smiles over the top of your head at his softhearted boyfriend. Were it anyone else, Sirius would be making endless fun of them for creating such a fuss over a snail’s death, but because it’s you he’s in all the way. (Evidently, he’s learned his lesson after the time he squashed a mosquito in cold blood. You would hardly look at him for days until he apologized.) 

You nod, clearing your throat. “I hope you’re going somewhere with tall grass,” you say, “and lots of soft, wet dirt. And I hope this food gives you sustenance for the journey.” 

You mean the dead leaves, Remus supposes. He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m sure it appreciates that, darling.” 

“And if you want to reincarnate as an elephant to step on me, I completely understand.” 

“Oh.” Sirius coughs. “Don’t we think that’s a bit far?”

“Yeah,” Remus agrees. “You’ve put yourself through enough already, that’s probably not necessary.” 

You look between your boyfriends, bemused. “I’m only trying to make things fair. I killed them first.” 

“I just think we ought to have a bit more faith in this snail,” says Sirius. “I doubt they’re out for revenge; they strike me as the forgiving sort. No need to relinquish yourself to an untimely squishing.” 

You frown. “I suppose you’re right. Snails don’t have very long memories anyway, so as a group they might not be very inclined to hold grudges…” 

“Exactly.” He gives your shoulder a loving pat. “Now, it looks like Remus has brought us something. Haven't you, handsome?” 

Remus gives you both a small smile, reaching for your drinks. “Here’s a coffee, and a tea for you, dove. Let’s get out of the cold and drink them inside, yeah?” 

“Okay.” You give the snail one last, speaking look before starting to stand. 

Sirius hurries to Remus’ side, forcing him to use the other boy for support as he straightens up, knees protesting. 

“Your hair’s all wet,” he murmurs. 

“I know,” Sirius gripes under his breath, but Remus can hear the fondness hidden beneath his grousing. “I figured you’d be upset if I let her go out in the rain to find her ceremonial leaves alone.” 

Remus chuckles and kisses his part. “I’ll make some soup before you both catch cold.” 

“She’ll only think it’s karmic if we do.” 

“No, not really.” Sirius hasn’t kept his voice quiet enough to avoid your hearing, and now you’re looking at him with an earnest bemusement. “It would be karmic if I got sick, but you haven’t done anything wrong, Sirius.” 

Remus tsks. “I think you’ve repented enough already, dove,” he says. “Let’s get you both dried off.” 

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Counting Down To Heaven] TF141*Reader

They wait outside the operation room for your emergency op to finish, they try to stay awake, but tiredness eventually drags them into a dream.

cw: gore and wound mentioned

Price (fear of his job will put u in danger)

He opens the door, coming back home is the thing bracing him through the grueling mission, because it means coming back to you.

The living room is full of the sweet scent of fresh-baked cookies, he hums and calls out your name, putting his hat down and walks inward, not realizing the soothing yellow light turns off itself behind him.

He frowns when he feels the air is freezingly cold he frowns, and he realizes something the moment he turns the knob on the door of you two’s bedroom

The house is too quiet, eerily silent.

His cry stucks in his throat when his eyes land on your figure, lying in the blood pool, cloudy eyes looking straightly into his.

As he drops to his knee and crawls to your side, he recognizes there’s something in his grasp.

A tactical knife dripping blood, gripped in his hand, and it suits the slash wound across your throat.

Soap (fear of being overconfident)

He tells you everything’s okay, all his plans will lead to success, don’t worry, just follow behind him.

So he never looks back to check on you during the battle, eyes lock on his enemies, adrenaline pumping through his body, heartbeats deafening, and makes him unaware of the sound of your footsteps disappears.

It’s too late when he turns around and can’t find you, the thick fog surrounding him obscures his sight, so he just runs as fast as he can towards the only tunnel with lights in the end.

Only be welcomed by your body hanging high on the tree by his enemy, but after a blink, he isn’t standing at the same spot.

He’s tying the rope around your neck and unable to stop himself.

Gaz (fear of having wrong decision)

“Give me a donut, thanks babe.” You say to him with a smile, and he leans down to press a kiss on your cheek then walks into the coffee shop.

He waits for quite a while, finally getting his order, and can’t wait to meet you outside and see your delighted face when you’re enjoying your favorite dessert.

but when he pushes open the door, all he can see is blood, gun, corpse.

Battlefield.

He yells your name immediately, trying to search for you as he rushes between countless dead bodies.

Until he spots clothes with a familiar pattern peeking out under one of the remnants that he dashes to its side, pawing at the rocks and glass even if they cut open his palms, he doesn’t care, and finally, you reveal from the gravel, with a gunshot wound right on your temple.

What he only can do is carefully hug you in his arms and regret his decision — leaving you alone.

Ghost (fear of losing his love because of himself)

He’s washing his hands, water pouring from the sink, but none of the blood is getting off of his skin.

He scrubs his hands, harder and rougher, until his skin is broken, and his blood combines with yours from the scratches scattering across his hands.

He raises his head and smashes the mirror above because no matter what he does, the blood just stains his palms.

When he finally takes a good look at the shattered mirror, he sees you in it.

Bloody and pale, lifeless. Glints no longer exist in your eye, and he crumbles to the floor with a desperate sob.

[corendisguise]

Superman Unmasked & Unveiled

Chapter 3

Tom’s heart pounded as he stepped into the fluorescent-lit expanse of the shopping mall. The place was bustling with people, a sea of strangers moving in and out of stores, some faces buried in their phones. He usually avoided malls like this, but today, loneliness had driven him out of his quiet house and into the chaos. Steven had been gone for nearly two weeks, working on set as a stand-in for some actor, and the silence of their home had begun to feel oppressive. Tom missed the way Steven moved around the kitchen, humming softly as he made coffee, the sound of his laughter echoing through the halls.

But as much as he missed Steven, there was another feeling gnawing at him—a prickling unease, a jealous itch that he couldn’t scratch. Steven’s job brought him into contact with so many beautiful people, actors and models and crew members who seemed impossibly glamorous compared to Tom’s mundane existence. He knew it was irrational, but sometimes he wondered if Steven noticed them too, if he felt even a fraction of the attraction to them that Tom did. It was stupid, he told himself, but the thought lingered, unshakable.

Lost in his thoughts, Tom wandered aimlessly through the mall, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He didn’t even realize where he was going until he found himself standing inside a sleek electronics store, the glassshowcase glittering with displays of the latest gadgets. His eyes lingered on a particularly flashy smartphone, its screen glowing hypnotically. For a moment, he considered buying a new phone, but then he went out again and caught sight of the security guard standing just outside the store.

The man was massive, his broad shoulders straining against the fabric of his uniform, his skin a deep, rich brown that seemed to glow under the harsh light. His long braids were tied back neatly, and a name tag pinned to his chest read “James.” Tom froze, his pulse quickening as James glanced in his direction, his dark eyes sharp and assessing. Tom looked away quickly, turning to go, but it was too late.

“Sir,” James called out, his voice low and authoritative. “Could you come here for a moment?”

Tom’s stomach dropped. He hesitated, his feet rooted to the spot, but when James took a step closer, he felt a surge of panic. There was no point in resisting, he told himself. Just go along with it. He walked over to James, his movements stiff and awkward, his face burning with embarrassment.

“Is there a problem?” Tom asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

James didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied Tom carefully, his gaze traveling from head to toe and back again. It felt invasive, almost predatory, and Tom shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Finally, James spoke, his tone cold and accusing.

“I saw you lingering in the store earlier,” he said. “Did you take something?”

Tom blinked, his mind scrambling for an explanation. “What? No, I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” James interrupted, his voice cutting through Tom’s flimsy protest. “I don’t have time for games. If you stole something, you need to hand it over now.”

Tom shook his head frantically, his hands coming out of his pockets to gesture helplessly. “I swear, I didn’t take anything! You’ve got the wrong person!”

James’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, his jaw tightened, his lips forming a thin, angry line. “We’ll see about that,” he said, stepping closer. “Let’s go.”

Tom tried to back away, but James grabbed his arm firmly, his grip strong enough to make Tom wince. “Where are we going?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“To my office,” James replied, steering him toward a narrow corridor at the far end of the mall. “We’ll sort this out there.”

Tom’s legs felt like jelly as they walked down the dimly lit hallway, the walls closing in around him. He could feel James’s presence looming over him, his sheer size making Tom feel small and vulnerable. The security guard opened a door at the end of the corridor, revealing a small, sparsely furnished room with a single table and two chairs.

“Sit,” James ordered, pointing to one of the chairs.

Tom obeyed, sinking into the hard plastic seat and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. James stood in front of him, his arms crossed as well, his expression unreadable. Tom waited for him to say something, anything, but the silence stretched on, each second dragging painfully.

Finally, James spoke, his voice laced with irritation. “You know the drill. Empty your pockets.”

Tom hesitated, his cheeks flushing. “I already told you, I didn’t steal anything.”

James’s eyes narrowed. “Do it yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”

The threat was clear, and Tom swallowed hard. With shaking hands, he began pulling items out of his pockets—his wallet, his keys, a crumpled receipt. He placed them on the table one by one, avoiding eye contact with James. When he was done, he sat back, folding his hands in his lap.

James leaned forward, picking up each item and examining it closely. He paused when he reached the receipt, his brow furrowing. “This doesn’t prove anything,” he said, tossing it back onto the table. “You could still be hiding something.”

Tom’s breath hitched. “I’m not—”

“Shut up,” James snapped, cutting him off. “I think you need a more thorough search.”

Before Tom could react, James grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked it open, buttons popping off and scattering across the floor. Tom let out a startled cry, clutching at his now-exposed chest. His mind reeled, his body frozen in shock.

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “You don’t have to do this.”

James ignored him, reaching out to run his big hands roughly over Tom’s torso. Tom flinched at the touch, his skin tingling uncomfortably. The sensation was unfamiliar, strangely intimate, and a jolt of arousal shot through him, confusing and unwelcome.

James’s fingers moved lower, dipping into Tom’s waistband. Tom gasped, his body tensing as James’s hands brushed against the sensitive skin of his hips. “There’s nothing here,” James said, his voice cool and dismissive. “But I’m not done yet.”

Tom’s heart raced as James stepped back, his eyes scanning Tom’s body hungrily. “Stand up,” he ordered.

Tom hesitated, his legs wobbling as he pushed himself to his feet. James wasted no time, grabbing the remnants of Tom’s shirt and lifting it over his head in one swift motion. Tom’s arms went up instinctively, shielding himself from James’s gaze, but the security guard wasn’t deterred. He grabbed Tom by the wrists and held them firmly above his head, pinning him against the wall next to the table.

“Stay still,” James commanded, his voice low and menacing.

Tom whimpered, his body trembling as James’s free hand slid down his abdomen, brushing against the waistband of his pants once more. This time, when James’s fingers dipped beneath the fabric, Tom couldn’t suppress a groan, his hips bucking slightly. The sound seemed to surprise him as much as it did James, who raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying this,” James said, his tone dripping with mockery.

Tom’s face burned with shame, but before he could respond, James’s fingers plunged deeper, exploring the crevice between his buttocks. Tom cried out, his legs giving way as his knees hit the floor. James released his wrists, allowing him to collapse forward onto the table, his upper body pressed flat against the cold surface.

“Spread your legs,” James ordered, his voice commanding.

Tom hesitated, his mind screaming in protest, but his body betrayed him, obeying without question. He spread his legs wide, exposing himself completely to James’s hungry gaze. The security guard stepped closer, his crotch pressing against Tom’s bare back as he reached around to undo the button on his pants.

“You’re going to regret lying to me,” James whispered, his breath hot against Tom’s ear.

Tom’s mind spun, his thoughts a chaotic mess of fear and desire. He wanted to resist, to push James away, but his body refused to cooperate. Instead, he moaned softly as James’s fingers slipped inside his mouth, probing and teasing until Tom’s tongue darted out to meet them.

“Good boy,” James murmured, his voice thick with pleasure.

Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, his resistance crumbling under the weight of his overwhelming arousal. He had no idea how this had happened, no idea why he was letting this stranger take control of him, but the truth was undeniable—he was completely at James’s mercy. If Tom hadn't been so excited, he might have noticed the strange artificial taste of James fingers.

“Now,” James said, his voice low and urgent. “Tell me where it is.”

Tom shuddered, his entire body trembling as James’s fingers withdrew from his mouth and moved lower, slipping between his cheeks to press against his entrance.

“Please,” Tom whimpered, his voice breaking.

James didn’t answer. Instead, he thrust his wet finger inside, breaching Tom’s tight hole with steady pressure. Tom’s head fell forward, his face pressed against the table as he cried out, his body arching involuntarily. The sensation was overwhelming, terrifying and thrilling all at once, and Tom couldn’t help but wonder what else James had planned for him.

James’s fingers lingered inside Tom, stretching him gently but firmly, preparing him for what was to come. Tom’s breath hitched as James pulled his finger out, only to replace it with something cold and smooth. He looked down, his vision swimming with a mix of fear and arousal, to see a sleek, black toy resting against his entrance. It was thick like 3 fingers at least.

“You’re going to like this,” James murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the small room. His dark eyes locked on Tom’s face, watching intently as he slid the toy in slowly, inch by agonizing inch.

Tom bit his lip hard, trying to stifle the sounds that wanted to escape. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that left him trembling. He couldn’t help but moan softly as the toy breached him, filling him in a way that made his entire body shudder.

James leaned over him, his broad chest brushing against Tom’s back. “That’s it,” he whispered, his breath hot against Tom’s ear. “Take it. Take it all.”

The command sent a shiver down Tom’s spine. He felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet there was an undeniable thrill in submitting to James’s control. The toy moved deeper, forcing him to stretch further, and Tom couldn’t stop the choked cry that escaped his lips.

James grinned, clearly enjoying Tom’s reaction. “You’re tight,” he said, almost admiringly. “But you’re handling it well.”

Tom didn’t respond, too consumed by the sensations coursing through his body. The toy moved in and out, each thrust bringing him closer to the edge of something he couldn’t quite name. His cock twitched, leaking pre-cum onto the table beneath him, and he hated himself for how much he was enjoying this.

“You like that, don’t you?” James asked, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He reached around and wrapped a hand around Tom’s throbbing erection, stroking him in time with the movements of the toy.

Tom gasped, his hips bucking instinctively. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Please…”

James chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “Good boy,” he said, giving Tom’s cock a firm squeeze. “Now, let’s see how you handle the real thing.”

With that, James pulled the toy out, leaving Tom feeling empty and exposed. He turned Tom over, positioning him on his back on the table. Tom’s legs were spread wide, his body completely at James’s mercy. He couldn’t bring himself to look away as James unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants, revealing a thick, impressive erection that made Tom’s breath catch in his throat.

“You ready for this?” James asked, his voice low and teasing. He grabbed Tom’s legs, lifting them up and placing them on his broad shoulders.

Tom nodded quickly, though his heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn’t believe what was happening, couldn’t believe he was about to be penetrated by someone other than Steven. But the thought of stopping was impossible. He was too far gone, too consumed by the desire to feel James inside him.

James positioned himself at Tom’s entrance, his tip pressing against the sensitive skin. “Relax,” he said, his voice demanding. „ You will now get to know me properly.“

Tom took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He focused on James’s words, willing his body to comply. Slowly, carefully, James began to push in, his thick length sliding into Tom with deliberate precision.

Tom groaned, his head falling back against the table. The sensation was overwhelming, painful at first but quickly giving way to pleasure. James was so big, filling him in a way that no one ever had before, and Tom couldn’t help but arch his hips, desperate for more.

“There you go,” James said approvingly. “Take it. You’re doing so good.”

Tom whimpered, his hands gripping the edge of the table for support. James continued to push in, his pace slow and controlled, allowing Tom to adjust to his size. Each inch that entered him sent waves of pleasure through his body, and Tom found himself moaning uncontrollably.

“So tight,” James muttered, his breathing becoming heavier. “You’re perfect.”

Finally, James bottomed out, his full length buried inside Tom. Tom cried out, his body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. He felt so full, so utterly dominated, and the realization made his cock throb even harder.

James remained still for a moment, allowing Tom to get used to the feeling. Then, slowly, he began to move, pulling out until only the head of his cock remained inside before pushing back in. The motion was slow and deliberate, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through Tom’s body.

“Oh god,” Tom gasped, his voice breaking. “Please… faster…”

James smirked, clearly enjoying Tom’s desperation. “As you wish,” he said, increasing his pace. He fucked Tom with long, deep strokes, each one hitting his prostate with pinpoint accuracy.

Tom moaned loudly, his body writhing on the table. He couldn’t hold back any longer, the pleasure building inside him with every thrust. His cock was rock hard, throbbing with need, and he could feel the pressure in his balls growing stronger with every passing second.

“James,” Tom cried out, his voice pleading. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna come…”

James growled, his grip on Tom’s legs tightening. “Not yet,” he said, his voice commanding. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Tom whimpered, desperate to release but unable to disobey James’s orders. He clenched his fists, fighting against the urge to climax, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming, and he was losing control.

James seemed to sense Tom’s struggle. “That’s it,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Hold on. Just a little longer.”

Tom nodded, though his vision was blurring with tears of pleasure. He clung to James’s words, using them to steady himself as the security guard continued to fuck him with relentless intensity. Each thrust pushed him closer to the edge, and Tom knew it wouldn’t be long before he surrendered. James was now breathing heavily, moaning in between the deep breaths. - He was just not showing any sweat on his body or face what Tom should have surprised Tom normally. - „James… please…” Tom begged, his voice broken and desperate.

James leaned down, capturing Tom’s lips in a rough, bruising kiss. The contact sent a shockwave through Tom’s body, and he realized suddenly that he didn’t want to hold back anymore. He wanted to give in, to let go completely and lose himself in the ecstasy that James was offering him.

With a loud cry, Tom came, his seed shooting across the table and James chest as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. His body convulsed, his muscles spasming as he rode out his orgasm, completely spent.

James pulled out of Tom abruptly, letting him fall back against the table, panting and exhausted. Tom couldn’t bring himself to care; he was too overwhelmed by the experience, too lost in the haze of his own arousal.

“Damn,” James said, his voice filled with admiration. “You’re a natural.”

Tom closed his eyes, still catching his breath. He felt ashamed for enjoying it so much, for letting James take control like that. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny the thrill of submitting to someone so dominant, so confident in his power.

James leaned down, kissing Tom again, this time more tenderly. “We’ll have to do this again sometime,” he said, his voice laced with promise.

Tom’s eyes fluttered open, meeting James’s dark gaze. “I… I don’t know…” he stammered, his voice trembling.

James smiled, his expression knowing. “Sure you do,” he said, leaning in closer.

Tom’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The ecstasy had faded, leaving behind a deep pit of guilt and sadness. He couldn’t believe what he had just done, how easily he had submitted to James. His heart ached for Steven, who was out there, working, meeting beautiful people, while Tom had been indulging in this intense, forbidden encounter.

James, breathing heavily, seemed to sense Tom’s turmoil. He didn’t say anything, but his massive arms wrapped around Tom with surprising gentleness. The warmth of James’s body pressed against him, and for a moment, Tom felt safe, cocooned in strength. But the guilt continued to gnaw at him.

“Shh,” James murmured, his deep voice soothing yet commanding. “It’s okay. You don’t have to feel bad. This was… mutual. You wanted this as much as I did.”

Tom shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. “I can’t… I can’t do this. Not without Steven.”

James’s grip tightened, but not in a way that hurt. Instead, it was firm, grounding. “You’re here now,” he said softly. “And I’m here. Let me take care of you, even if just for a little while.”

Tom hesitated, his body still buzzing from the intensity of their encounter. James leaned in, pressing his lips to Tom’s once more. This time, the kiss was slow, deliberate, each movement of James’s tongue sending waves of desire through Tom’s body. He could feel himself hardening again, his muscles responding despite the turmoil in his mind.

James pulled back slightly, his dark eyes glinting with something that made Tom’s breath hitch. “You liked it, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice low and intimate.

Tom nodded reluctantly, unable to deny the truth. “Yes… but—”

“But nothing,” James interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself. To let someone else take control for once.”

James’s hand moved down, tracing the length of Tom’s cock as he spoke. The gentle pressure made Tom gasp, his hips instinctively arching into the touch. James smirked, clearly pleased by the reaction. “See? You want this. Admit it.”

Tom bit his lip, trying to resist as his cock was still very sensitive, but James’s skilled fingers were relentless. They moved with precision, stroking him slowly, building the tension until Tom was panting, his body on fire. “Please…” he whispered, unable to hold back any longer.

James chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. “Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want.”

“More… I need more,” Tom admitted, his voice breaking.

James’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, his hot breath brushing against Tom’s ear. “That’s what I thought.” His fingers shifted, moving with bolder strokes, targeting every sensitive spot with expert precision. Tom moaned loudly, his body trembling with anticipation.

As James continued to tease and torment him, Tom’s thoughts began to blur. He tried to focus on the guilt, on the fact that Steven might be hurt by what he was doing, but James’s touch was too overwhelming. It consumed him completely, dragging him deeper into pleasure.

James’s other hand reached up, fingers tangling in the long braids that fell over his shoulders. He tugged gently, pulling them across Tom’s chest and neck, the sensation tickling and thrilling at the same time. Tom squirmed under the dual sensations, his arousal peaking higher and higher.

“Almost there, aren’t you?” James murmured, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’re going to come again for me.”

Tom nodded frantically, his hands clutching at James’s arms for support. He could feel the build-up inside him, the pressure mounting until he was sure he would explode. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, James stopped, pulling his hand away.

Tom gasped, confused and desperate for more. “What… why did you stop?”

James smirked, his expression mischievous. “Patience,” he said simply. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Before Tom could protest, James leaned forward, positioning himself over Tom’s groin. He took the tip of Tom’s cock into his mouth, swallowing him whole with one swift motion. Tom cried out, his entire body jerking in response. James’s mouth was warm and wet, his tongue swirling and flicking with practiced ease. Every movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through Tom, making it impossible to think about anything else. His first orgasm was only moment ago and he was on the edge again, never felt this intensity before.

James worked his magic, sucking and licking with an intensity that left Tom breathless. He could feel the familiar rush approaching, his climax threatening to overtake him. He clutched at James’s head, gripping the braids tightly as his body tensed.

Just as Tom was on the verge of release, James released him, pulling back with a slight pop. Tom groaned in frustration, his body aching for completion. “Please… don’t stop…”

James grinned, his expression filled with wicked satisfaction. “Not yet,” he said, his voice teasing. “There’s something else I want to try first.”

Tom blinked, his mind foggy with desire. “What… what are you talking about?”

James didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached up, his fingers finding a seam along his neck. Tom frowned, confusion setting in as James’s fingers worked the edges of the fabric. He drilled his fingers on both sides of his chin under the edge and moved them slowly upwards. Sweat was running down on both hands. His maskulin features distorted and Tom saw the fingers draw contours under the skin. With a sudden slurping sound, James peeled the mask upwards, revealing the sweaty exhausted face beneath.

Tom’s breath hitched, his eyes widening in shock. The face staring back at him was not James’s—it was Steven’s. Sweat clung to his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin, and his eyes were full of a mix of exhaustion and desire. His eyes were dark brown. For a moment, Tom couldn’t process what he was seeing.

“Steven…?” Tom whispered, his voice barely audible.

Steven—or James, or whoever he was—smiled, his expression soft yet intense. “Surprise,” he said, his voice a perfect blend of Steven’s smooth tones and James’s deep timbre.

The realization crashed over Tom like a wave, sending him spiraling into a state of pure, unadulterated bliss. Steven was holding up the lifeless face of James at the braids, dangling and dripping sweat everywhere. Toms body reacted before his mind could fully grasp the situation, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He came hard, his release coating Steven’s face with thick bursts of cum.

Steven stayed still, allowing Tom to finish, his own breathing heavy and labored. Steven was licking away every drop of cum on his lips and smiled broadly. When Tom finally collapsed back onto the table, spent and exhausted, Steven leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, a smile playing on his lips. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice weak but sincere.

Steven held him close, his strong arms providing comfort and security. Tom knew this wasn’t the end—there would be questions, discussions, and perhaps even consequences—but for now, he allowed himself to bask in the warmth of Steven’s embrace. „It will never become boring with you….“. Steven nodded in silence.

to be continued…

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream and rainy days with them.

Mark Lee

Rainy days reminds you of the last time you saw Mark. He's off to pursue his dreams. It was pouring hard when you joined in sending him off to the airport. He wasn't holding any umbrella, only wearing a hoodie to prevent him from getting wet. You stood there, at the outside of the airport, watching him say goodbye to his friends and family, and for the last time, he approaches you, hugging you tightly. The wet droplets of his hoodie staining you as you couldn't do anything but cherish the moment. 

Huang Renjun

You're afraid of thunderstorms. Often times, you couldn't sleep and you tried your best to not be startled by its sound. This is one of the nights where it's not working. The continuous sound of thunder just keeps you awake, agitated. You sat in front of your bed, cold sweat running through your forehead. "Babe?" you didn't even noticed that you woke Renjun up. He asked you what's wrong, but before you could answer, you were startled by the thunder. "Come here," Renjun said. He lets you rest onto his arms, wrapping you close to him, and as he taps your back lightly, he hums a song to distract you from the thunder. 

Lee Jeno

Somehow, you two didn't check the weather today and woke up with the heavy pour slapping the bedroom window. You felt more sleepy, clinging more to your boyfriend who's still asleep. In silence, both of you agreed to just indoors for the rest of the day instead of going out for a date. A few minutes later and you two agreed to get out of bed for breakfast, opting for a warm cup of coffee that matches the weather. Both of you sat at the dining table quietly, enjoying the cold morning with the rain as a background sound. 

Lee Donghyuck

You feel like an idiot, but it's for the sake of your pride. You sat at the bench of the bus stop, eyes staring at the heavy rain. It just happened a few minutes ago and it seems like it's not going to stop anytime. You only let out a sigh, thinking that it was a bad idea that you stormed out after arguing with your boyfriend. You only leaned against the board, waiting for the rain to stop so that you can return back to your place. "You idiot!" you turned to your left and saw Haechan running towards you, holding an umbrella. "Look at you! you're all wet!" he nagged, but you only stared at him, surprised to see that he went after you. 

Na Jaemin

When you first met Jaemin, it was something straight out of a movie. It was summer, and you thought that the weather is going to be fine, but it rained all of the sudden. You decided to seek shelter just outside a small convenience store. Coincidentally, Jaemin stepped out from the store, a plastic bag on his left hand and an umbrella on his right. You two stared at each other, surprised. You were familiar with his face, since he's a popular student at your uni. But to your shock, he hands you his umbrella, you stared at it for a second before he grabs your hands and placed it there, "Give it back to me next time." he said and before you could say anything, you saw him ran towards the rain. 

Zhong Chenle

"I think we should break up," you will always remember how that day went. It was in a small coffee shop. A busy afternoon that it was bustling with lots of noise; the busy baristas, gossips from friend groups, and the continuous rain from the outside. It was noisy and yet you heard loud and clear what Chenle said to you. You only stared at him, and he felt sorry about his words. "Okay, if that's what you want." you didn't fought back, didn't asked why. The noise was too overwhelming and the weather was too solemn, why add more to it?

Park Jisung

You know how your boyfriend love the stars and the universe, so you decided to have a night picnic with him. You two set out a small picnic just around the Han river, at a field where you two can lay down and stare at the stars. But it seems like tonight's not the night. You two lay there confused, the sky was pitch black and there are no gleaming stars. Then suddenly it rained, making you two stand up and pack your things immediately. Both are almost drenched when you seek shelter. And as you two look at each other, both could only laugh, thinking that this is one of the best dates you two ever had. 

[billythesimp]

His Starlight

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎...

I was requested for write more Billy headcanons with a fem!s/o so here's some short snippets. So thank you for the request! I'll be opening requests after I finish another piece so letting you all know ahead.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡...⋙

tagging: None

tw: none

⋈ Billy makes some strange decisions at time, either cuz he’s trying to be cheap in order to save more, or he’s just not thinking straight and makes an impromptu purchase. As his s/o, you’re able to reel him in and help him make smarter decisions that’ll leave him so grateful that you care as much to aid him. Of course, this doesn’t count when he decides to splurge on you, because his girlfriend deserves only the best.

⋈ The girls in the Cunning Hares have at least met you a couple times before, after all they do care for Billy so only want to know who his new girlfriend is. That being said, Nicole is probably the one who can see the benefits of keeping you around, only to drop them once she sees just how much you adore their android friend that they’ve started noticing changes in him that are for the better. He still is goofy and oftentimes causing a ruckus with the others, but he’s become more thoughtful and acknowledges when things are going wrong or when they need to make a decisive decision in their work or expenses. Nicole doesn’t mind having you come around often, as long as you don’t become another mouth to feed. 

⋈ Best part of having such a cute girlfriend is being able to binge watch movies together and go out on dates. His favorites being the ones where they explore Lumina Square and stop to take photos. Of course, he loves doing the iconic poses from his favorite shows and movies, impersonating the actors to the point that it embarrasses you but he does it in a loving matter. But he also loves taking photos of you, drinking coffee at the Tin man’s shop, fawning over the shop bangboos, or even experimenting with the makeup in the salon there. He has a whole file saved of his favorite moments from your dates. 

⋈ Of course, dating Billy has its cons. For one he is usually cold to the touch because he’s made of metal and need to have his joints lubricated. But no worries, he does his best to maintain himself and makes subtle changes that you wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. Like buying a heating module to help increase his body heat, though the dealer he bought it from was kinda sketchy and now he overheats too quickly just from seeing your cute face. And when it comes to lubrates, he gets only the finest of lubes to help him move to the best of his ability. A little too well as you’ll have him turning head at record speed when you call him. Maybe even trip over his own feet trying to catch up to you. 

⋈ Billy can be a fool but he’s your fool. He loves and cherishes every day he gets to spend with you; And whenever he’s in a pinch, down in the hollows completing the hardest of commissions all for the sake of getting by with the Cunning Hares, he can only think of how you’ll be waiting for him on the outside. Ready to give him the biggest hug and rewatch Oh~ Sweetie where now he no longer finds joy in admiring the main actress as you shine brighter than any other starlight knight.

[foundtherightwords]

Love, If You're Near

Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x OFC

Summary: With a troubled past and a hopeless future, Gwen is just trying to survive on the streets of London. When she meets a man named Michael with a rather strange request, she shrugs and goes along with it, never dreaming that she will find a soul just as broken as hers, or that sometimes broken pieces can fit together perfectly, to bring healing and hope when one least expects it.

Warnings: discussions of prostitution and domestic abuse

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: I've had this idea for Michael even before "Hoard" was released, and after watching the film, I was happy that it was still viable. I don't condone Michael's actions, but I can see where his desire for love and affection comes from, and I hope that after what happened with Maria, Michael could start his own journey of redemption and healing. It is what I based my idea on. I also took some inspiration from "Frankie and Johnny" (the 1991 movie with Michelle Pfeiffer and Al Pacino, not the song).

"Hoard" takes place in 1994, and this is about 4 years after that.

Also, big thanks to @wheels-of-despair for sending me a transcript of the movie. It's helped me tremendously in deciphering the East London dialogue!

Gwen dropped down on a bench outside Dalston Junction Station, slipped her right shoe off her aching foot, and gingerly touched the raw red spot on the back of her heel, through her fishnet. "Cheap piece of shit," she grumbled. Except the shoes weren't exactly cheap. Twenty quid down the drain and they hurt like fuck, even after she'd tried every trick in the book to break them in. But her last pair had broken beyond repair, so it was either this or go barefoot, and she didn't want to step on broken needles and used condoms and whatever garbage that littered the backstreets of Hackney. Plus it was freezing. She'd met a stag do the previous night, and they had kept her out until the morning, eventually straining her all the way over in Chiswick. It was almost noon by the time she crawled back to her flat. It was too cold to sleep in, so she'd whiled away the day in coffee shops and pubs, waiting until it was time to go back out on the street. At this rate, she would take a five-quid blowjob in a car if it meant getting somewhere warm.

Across the street, the Hackney Carnival Mural shouted at her with its peeling musicians and protestors waving their "Unite for Peace" banners. Gwen turned away, annoyed. Idiots. What good is peace, when one is cold and tired and doesn't even have a decent pair of shoes?

It was almost Christmas, and a slow night. The nights had been slow for a while now, not like when she first started. Ten years on the streets, she thought she'd known how it worked. Then three years in the clink, and when she got out, it was like Brave New World out here. Foreign girls flooded the market. The pimps and the punters liked them because they were younger and easier to control, but the local girls knew that naïveté was just an act. These newcomers were tougher and meaner, and they wouldn't hesitate to pull a knife on those that dared to encroach on their territory. That was if they were still on the streets in the first place. It was all indoors now, and they didn't even have to rely on the old tart-card-in-phone-box method of advertisement. The Internet had that covered.

Gwen readjusted her long blonde wig and sighed. Sometimes she felt much older than her thirty-one years.

She put her shoe back on with a grimace. Perhaps she could try her luck up the road, near the Shacklewell Arms. Her friend Medusa worked that corner, and sometimes she would let Gwen stay with her so they could team up against the new girls.

Medusa's real name was Melissa, but all girls needed some exotic street names. For Halloween one year, back when they were both younger and sillier and full of hope, Gwen had even helped her attach plastic snake's heads to her dreads, both giggling like mad.

Gwen took the backstreets to avoid the twinkling lights, the sound of Christmas music, and the scents of evergreen and cinnamon that spilled out from every door and shop window. They depressed her. Her feet would not thank her for the detour, but her heart would.

By the time she reached the Arms, she was sure her blister had burst and was bleeding. Some indie band had just finished their gig, and the front of the pub was crawling with people. Gwen peered into the crowd, trying to make out Medusa's statuesque form. As she spied Medusa's dreads swinging to and fro, Gwen opened her mouth to call her friend. Her eyes fell on the man next to Medusa, and the call died in her throat. It was Medusa's boyfriend and pimp, Nico.

Despite Medusa's insistence that Nico was "not that bad", Gwen knew better than to face him. At best, he would cajole her into coming to work for him, and at worst he would threaten and force her. Gwen knew what it was like to tie yourself to a man. Usually, she could chase Nico off with a few choice words, but in her current state, cold, exhausted, and irritated, she had no strength to deal with him. She beat a quick retreat.

And collided with someone.

It was a man coming out of one of the cheaper and seedier establishments that lined the back alleys behind Shacklewell Lane. "Excuse me," he mumbled.

"'s alright," Gwen said. And, because he was a man and she was working, she added, out of professional habit, "You looking for company?"

"No, thank you," the man said, a little too quickly, and started to walk away. A few steps, then he seemed to have second thoughts and turned back. "How much?" he asked.

Gwen gave him the once-over. He was probably in his mid-thirties, medium built, dressed in old jeans, an older jumper, and sturdy boots. A working man, then, not a tourist or an out-of-towner looking for some cheap thrills. Not her ideal client, but beggars cannot be choosers.

She told him her hourly rate. "Forty quid and I'll do whatever you want, darling." It wasn't high, all things considered, but it wasn't cheap either. She had her dignity.

The man shook his head. "That's—that's out of my—sorry." He turned away again.

Gwen slumped against a brick wall with a sigh. Maybe she should call it a night. The prospect of her cold flat with its empty fridge was not very welcoming though. Maybe she could find Medusa again. She was desperate enough to even risk Nico.

As she struggled to her feet, she staggered backward and collided, for the second time that night, with someone. This time it was a little girl who was coming out of a doorway with her mother. The girl was holding to the hem of her mother's coat with one hand and in the other was a teddy, which she dropped to the ground.

"Sorry," Gwen said. She quickly picked up the teddy, dusted it off, and handed it to the girl with a smile. "Here you go, love."

The girl stared back at Gwen with enormous eyes but said nothing and made no move to take her teddy. The mother snatched the toy back. "Why don't you watch where you're going, you slag!" she snarled. "And stay away from my kid."

"You watch where you're going!" Gwen spat. "What are you doing, dragging a kid out on the street this late anyway? She should be in bed!"

The mother's nostrils flared. "Don't tell me how to raise my own kid! What does a slut like you know about being a mother?" With that, she snatched the kid up in her arms and stormed off. Swallowing her anger, Gwen walked away in the opposite direction.

A moment later, a wail from the little girl caused Gwen to turn back, just in time to see the woman yank the teddy out of her hand and toss it into the nearest bin.

An inexplicable fury prompted Gwen to chase after them despite her blister, not even knowing what she would do if she caught them, but the woman turned down a side street and disappeared. Only the teddy stared up at Gwen from the bin with a rather mournful look, or so she imagined.

She picked it up and straightened up the bowtie around its neck. "I know more about being a mother than that bitch," she said to the teddy, and, without knowing why, she put it in her bag.

Feeling eyes on her, she looked up to see the man who had rejected her still standing at the mouth of the alley, watching her with a strange expression. Something in his dark eyes made blood rush to her cheeks, and she growled, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

He approached her slowly. "Forty an hour, you say?"

She stood up a little straighter. "Yeah."

"And you'll do whatever I want?"

"Within reasons," she said warily.

"Where can we go?"

"You have a car?" He shook his head. "Well, then that depends on what you have in mind," she said. "Even an alleyway would do, though I have to tell you, I'm not keen on getting any more blisters tonight." He colored slightly, and Gwen found herself wondering if this was his first time. She glanced at his hand. No ring. But then again, this type always takes care to leave their ring at home, don't they?

"My flat's not far from here," he said. "Do you mind—?"

Gwen hesitated. She made it a point never to go with a customer to a place she was unfamiliar with. Too risky. But she was cold and tired and just wanted to get this done.

She scrutinized the man, more carefully this time. He had dark hair pushed away from his forehead in soft curls, and a face that, had she been feeling better, she would have found quite handsome. What really struck her, though, were his eyes. They were dark and large, fringed by ridiculously long lashes, which made him look almost boyish. Gwen, who had to rely on false lashes and mascara to get such a doe-eyed look, stared at those lashes enviously. Noticing her scrutiny, he glanced at her briefly and looked away again. That shy, beseeching look finally cinched it for her.

"Alright," she said. "But cash up front."

"Fair enough." He opened his wallet and handed her some crumpled fivers and a tenner. Gwen counted them carefully before stuffing them into her bag. She also checked that her pepper spray was still in her bag—no matter how unassuming the man looked, or how sad his eyes were, she had to be careful. Technically, it was illegal to carry pepper spray, but Gwen never let a small thing like legality stop her.

Her fingers brushed across a little card, and Gwen paused momentarily. She'd been given that card by a group of women who roamed the area in twos and threes, who might be mistaken for working girls at first glance. She supposed that was their disguise. They were a non-profit helping to get women off the streets, they said. Give us a call anytime, they said. Gwen had scoffed at their optimism, yet for some reason, she still held on to their card. 

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"What do you want it to be?" she said, again out of habit, too tired to actually be coquettish. The man raised his eyebrows at her, and Gwen relented. "You can call me Queenie." Medusa wasn't the only girl with a ridiculous street name.

She didn't ask his name. She didn't care.

They went down Shacklewell Lane, away from the bright lights and loud noises of the Arms, crossed the A10, and through some side street lined with terraced houses. Then the houses gave way to chippies, greasy spoons, Laundromats, and off-licenses. Gwen was whimpering by the time they reached a block of council flats, its brown brick façade the color of dry blood under the dim streetlamps.

"You all right?" the man asked, glancing at her.

"How far up?" Gwen managed, looking up at the looming building, trying to calculate how quickly she could run out of there, if necessary.

"Fifth floor."

She let out an involuntary groan. The man looked at her for a moment. And then, before she realized what he was doing, he scooped her up in his arms in one smooth movement and carried her up the stairs, bridal style.

"Do you mind?!" she protested. The man said nothing, only kept walking.

Gwen tried to wriggle out, but she was too tired and his arms were too strong, and after a moment, she gave up and leaned her head against his shoulder. He smelled, not unpleasantly, of soap and sweat and rollies, and she found herself pressing her nose into the crook of his neck, breathing in his human scent, to purge from her memories the stench of piss and stale beer and rubbish that had assaulted her all through the night.

For all his strength, the man was panting a little by the time they arrived at his door. He set Gwen down on her feet and fumbled with the lock. The moment they were through the door, she collapsed on the nearest available surface, which happened to be an old, rather threadbare sofa, and pulled her shoes off.

"Take it from me," she said. "Never wear heels."

He seemed amused. "OK, I won't." He went about flipping on the lights. "Do you want some Epsom salt for that?"

"Nah, I've had worse."

The man disappeared behind a door down the hall—the bathroom, she supposed—and emerged a second later with a plaster. He then knelt in front of her, rolled down her right stocking and lifted her foot into his lap, not in a sensual or seductive way, but rather matter-of-factly, and stuck the plaster on her heel, like a parent cleaning up a child's skinned knee. This done, he pulled out the sofa and made a bed on it, still in that same matter-of-fact manner.

Something rolled out from under the sofa—a piece of Lego. Gwen's eyebrow went up. Following her eyes, the man saw the Lego as well and turned red. He quickly kicked it back under the sofa and went on making the bed as if nothing had happened. Well, if he wasn't going to say anything, then she certainly wouldn't either.

"Right," she said, rolling down her other stocking. "Let's get started, shall we?"

He turned toward her, looking alarmed. "No, no, no," he said and put his hand over Gwen's, stopping her. "Clothes on, please."

Gwen tilted her head. It wasn't the first time she'd been asked to keep her clothes on, though it was rare enough that it still came as a surprise. She wasn't keen on having her dress all wrinkled and stained. It would be a nightmare to get it clean. But she pulled her fishnets back up anyway

The man sat down next to her on the sofa bed, sheepishly avoiding her eyes. "I'm Michael, by the way," he said.

"Nice to meet you, Michael," Gwen said, because that's what one is supposed to say when someone introduces themselves.

"Would you like something to drink? Cup of tea?"

If he'd offered her some wine or whiskey or even beer, she might have accepted, but tea was probably the least erotic drink Gwen could think of. "No, thanks," she said. She didn't trust him not to slip her a Mickey—hey, Mickey and Michael, that's rich, she thought, chuckling to herself. When Michael didn't say anything, she reminded him, "You only paid me for an hour."

"Could you—" he began, looking down at a spot on the scuffed floor. "Would you mind—could you just hold me?"

Is that it? Gwen had to stop herself from grinning. This really was his first time then, poor lamb. She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him. "Like this?" she whispered into his ear. Michael nodded and eased them both down on the bed until they were spooning, with her behind him, so she couldn't see his eyes. "What else do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Just this."

Gwen frowned. "What?"

"Just hold me like this, please."

She sat up to look at him properly. He was lying on his side with his eyes open, staring not at her but at something or somewhere else, miles away.

"You're not going to make me put a giant diaper on you and breastfeed you, are you?" Medusa had once met a punter with that request. It had been part of the reason why she'd decided to work for Nico, so she could avoid another awkward situation like that, though, in Gwen's mind, it was rather like out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Michael turned to her. "What?"

"You don't want to tie me up, and you don't want me to tie you up?"

"No."

"You don't even want to have sex?"

He blushed again. "No."

"So let me get this straight," she said. "You're paying me forty quid to—spoon you?"

"Yeah." He sat up as well. "Look, if you're not comfortable with it, I understand. I'll pay you for your time, and then you can go."

She considered. As far as requests went, it was an odd one, but certainly not the strangest she'd had. And it sounded innocent enough—perhaps the most innocent of all. Still, she would not be lulled into a sense of safety. She pulled her bag a little closer to make sure she could reach inside and get the pepper spray if necessary. Her shoes would be a write-off—she could run faster barefoot anyway.

"Just—hold you?" she asked again, wanting to make sure. "For an hour?"

He looked up at her with those dark eyes, imploring, infinitely sad, like those of a lost child or a dying animal, and Gwen felt her heart stumble. "Yes, please," he said.

"I'm not charging you the full rate just for a bit of cuddle!"

"It's OK, really. I don't mind."

"I do," she insisted. "It's about being professional. What do you do for a living?"

He seemed taken aback by her question, but he answered anyway. "I'm a cleaner. At St. Mary's Hospital." He was quiet for a moment, then added, "Used to be a bin man. But I couldn't take the stink anymore."

Something in the way he said it made Gwen think that there were other reasons besides the stink for him to give up being a bin man, but it was none of her business. "You wouldn't take the full wage for cleaning half the hospital, would you?" she asked.

Something like a smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "I guess not."

"OK, so let's say twenty an hour, and we have a deal."

A moment's hesitation, and he extended a hand. They shook on it. His hand was warm, his grip strong and steady, and Gwen wondered why such a man could be so alone, and so lonely.

She made to give him back the twenty quid, but he pushed her hand away. "Keep it. I may ask you to stay longer."

"All right," she said, tucking the bills into her bra. "No funny business, mind."

"No."

She lay back down and put one arm around him again, leaving the other free so he couldn't easily pin her under him. "Is this OK?" she asked.

"It's fine," he said. "You don't have to do anything. Just—be natural."

Natural. Gwen wasn't even sure if she remembered how to be natural in bed anymore. She knew how to be enthusiastic, how to be dominant or submissive, how to be seductive, even how to be afraid. But natural? She no longer knew what that meant.  

The minutes ticked by.

While they lay there, Gwen let her eyes wander around, trying to find some clues that might point to danger. She saw a sparsely furnished flat, similar to her own. There were only the sofa bed, a coffee table, and a TV taking up the front room, a kitchenette to the side, and two closed doors, one leading to the bathroom, the other she had no idea. She saw more evidence of a kid—childish drawings on the fridge door, a small toothbrush, a bowl of half-eaten cereal on the coffee table. If he had a kid, she certainly hoped the kid wasn't locked in that spare room.

Her wandering eyes returned to Michael. He had taken his jumper off and was now in a vest. There was a tattoo on his bicep. "Who's Billy?" she asked.

"Mate of mine, from school," he said in a small voice. "He OD'ed."

"Shit," she said. And then, "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." His hand found hers, clasped it to his chest.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pulling away.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Your hand's cold. I was just trying to warm it up."

"I would've worn a coat, but unfortunately it doesn't go with this outfit," she joked. Her only warm coat would've covered up what she was trying to sell. She left her hand in his, feeling the heavy thump of his heart under her palm. He nestled into her with a sigh, but she remained stiff, keeping some distance between her chest and his back, so she could bolt at the first sign of danger.

But it never came. Instead, his breath evened out, and soon he was asleep.

Gwen must have dozed off as well, for she remembered jolting awake. Michael was still sleeping, holding her hand to his chest as if afraid she would fly off if he let go.

This could be her chance. After making sure Michael was sound asleep, Gwen carefully slid her hand out of his grasp, got out of bed, and tiptoed down the hall. She opened two closed doors. One was a bathroom, just as she suspected. The other was a bedroom, a kid's bedroom, painted in bright, buttery yellow, with a frilly little bed and cheerful toys and books piled on the shelves, a complete contrast to the sad, gray flat outside.

Gwen's feet took her into the room almost of their own volition. She gazed about, a strange melancholy washing over her. No, there wasn't anything strange about this sadness. She knew exactly where it was coming from; she just didn't want to think about it.

There was a framed photo on the bedside table, and she picked it up—it was of Michael, smiling a big, happy smile, carrying on his shoulder a little girl of about two or three years old, who had his same brown curls and his chocolate button eyes.

"What are you doing?" said his voice behind her.

She jumped and dropped the picture, which landed safely on the bed.

"Sorry," she said, fumbling to pick up the frame. "I was looking for the—uh, bathroom. I didn't mean to snoop."

"It's OK." He didn't look angry, only a little awkward, like she had stumbled on an embarrassing secret. It emboldened her.

"This your kid's room?" she asked.

"Yeah." He took the picture frame from her and set it back on the table. "She lives with her mum. I only have her on weekends and when her mum has to work nights, but I try to keep the room nice and clean for her," he explained.

Gwen let out a small breath and reminded herself to stop watching so much The Bill. From the way he had been so secretive about it, she was expecting something tragic. She was glad it wasn't.

"That her?" She nodded at the picture.

A ghost of a proud smile hovered over Michael's lips. "Her name's Amelia."

"Pretty name. Suits her."

"Don't let that face fool you, she's a little terror."

"How old is she?"

"Turning four soon."

"Oh, that's a great age," Gwen said without thinking. "That's when you can start to have a real conversation with them, and it's so fun."

"It is." Michael looked at her sharply. "Have you got a kid?"

For a moment, Gwen considered telling him the truth. It felt so nice, so normal, to talk in that cheery little room, as if sunshine had been stored in its bright yellow paint and the warmth of it was seeping into her, chasing away the cold of those long, lonely nights out on the street. She wanted to hold on to that feeling a little longer.

But she was here to work, not to have a heart-to-heart like she was on some bloody chat show.

"No," she lied.

"Because you sound like you know kids," he said.

Anger pricked at Gwen's insides. Who did this punter think he was?

"It's none of your business," she snapped. Michael continued to stare at her, and the intensity of his eyes forced her to look away. The flat was closing in on her, suffocating her, like her old prison cell. She couldn't breathe. She had to get out of here, get away from this strange man whose eyes seemed to penetrate her very soul.

She grabbed her bag. "I have to go."

Michael glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised. "But I paid you for two hours."

"Here." She tossed the money on the bed, picked up her shoes, and all but ran. He caught her at the door.

"What did I do?" he asked.

"Nothing. I just have to go."

"Don't do this," he said, clutching at her arm like a child afraid of being separated from its mother. "Don't leave. Please." The pleading note in his voice now sounded more like a command. That voice, the hard grip of his hand, and the dark glint in his eyes awoke something savage within Gwen, a cold fury she hadn't felt in years.

"Let me go," she said quietly, "or I'll kill you."

He dropped her arm in an instant. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his eyes glistening with what looked like tears. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you—I just don't know how to—"

As suddenly as it appeared, Gwen's anger vanished. She couldn't afford to lose her temper like that.

"It's fine," she said. "Just let me—"

Before she could finish, there was a knock on the door. "Michael?" said a voice on the other side. "You in?" A woman's voice.

Michael turned to Gwen, his eyes enormous on his pale face. "Hide," he mouthed to her.

A part of Gwen wanted to be defiant and face whoever was at the door—a wife? A girlfriend?—so she could watch Michael squirm, but another part of her took pity on his panic. Rolling her eyes, she made her way into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

"Leah," she heard Michael say, as he opened the front door. "What's wrong? Is Amelia all right?"

Peeking through a crack of the bedroom door, Gwen saw a woman standing in the doorway. She had auburn hair pulled into a tight bun and a scowling, disapproving expression that seemed terminal. A little girl was asleep in her arms.

These must be his ex and their daughter then. Gwen retreated into the shadow of the room, feeling strangely embarrassed, like she had intruded on an intimate scene. In some way, she had.

"She's fine," Leah said, and Michael let out a breath of relief. "It's my mum," Leah continued, looking harried. "She's had a fall. I have to go to Cardiff to see her. Don't know when I'll be back, so I can't take Amelia with me—" She looked around the flat, her eyes narrowing as they landed on the bills scattered on the sofa bed. Michael looked away, his cheeks flushed. "Is this a bad time?" Leah asked.

"No, not at all," Michael said quickly. "I'll take her. Call me when you get to Cardiff and let me know how your mum is."

With a curt nod, Leah handed their daughter over. She brushed a curl away from the sleeping child's forehead and went downstairs, but not before throwing another suspicious look over her shoulder.

Gwen waited for another moment or two until the coast was clear, and emerged from the bedroom. Michael, with his arms full of a sleeping toddler, gave her an apologetic look.

"Well, I'll be off then," Gwen said, trying not to show how the sight of the little girl was affecting her.

Michael hesitated. "Listen," he said. He tried to take her hand, but his arms were too full to reach. "You don't have to run off like that. I'm sorry about earlier. Stay for a bit. It's cold out."

"I'll be fine," Gwen said lightly. "And you're busy. I should go." At the door, she paused. "Good luck, Michael."

At that moment, Amelia lifted her head from her father's shoulder. "Daddy?" she said, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Michael said, and the tenderness in his voice made Gwen want to cry. She knew she should be going now, but some invisible force was rooting her to the spot, making her watch Michael with his daughter as if hypnotized. "Mum has to go to Grandma's," he was saying, "so you're staying with me for a bit. Is that all right?"

The little girl rubbed her eyes with a chubby fist. "Where's Snappy?" she said.

Michael looked around. He patted the pockets of Amelia's coat and came up empty. "You don't have him with you?" The girl shook her head. "You must have forgotten him at home then."

"I want him."

"We'll get him when Mum comes back—"

"I want him now!" Amelia demanded. She no longer sounded sleepy.

Michael gave Gwen an exasperated look over his daughter's head. Despite the twist of pain in her heart, Gwen couldn't help but grin back in rueful sympathy.

"What's Snappy?" she whispered to Michael.

"Her crocodile." Turning to Amelia, he said, "Don't worry, Snappy will be fine—"

But Amelia was not having it. "No!" she shouted. "I want Snappy! I'm not going without Snappy! Give me Snappy!"

"Let's just go to bed first, and then I'll find Snappy for you, yeah?"

"No! I don't want to stay here without Snappy!" The little girl started kicking and wriggling to get out of Michael's arms, and there was a shrill note in her voice that Gwen knew well would be followed by a tantrum. Wincing, Michael set Amelia down on the floor. The little girl pushed at her father, shouting, "I want Snappy!"

"Hey, hey, stop," Michael gently admonished her. "I don't have a key to Mum's place, so we can't get in. You have a lot of toys here—"

"I don't wanna stay here! I wanna go home! I want Mum!"

At that, something seemed to break within Michael. Without saying a word, he dropped Amelia on the sofa bed and went over to the kitchenette, where he plopped down at the table with his head in his hands. All the while, Amelia kept crying for Snappy.

Gwen looked between the despondent father and the wailing toddler. None of this had to do with her. She did not need to get involved. She should leave now.

She didn't leave.

She sat down in front of Amelia, who continued to sniff and snuffle. The violence of her tantrum seemed to have passed into a sulk.

"Hi," Gwen said. "You're Amelia, right?"

The little girl wiped a sleeve across her runny nose. "Who're you?" she asked.

Gwen glanced at Michael. He was still sitting with his head in his hands. Odd, that. Why was he acting like a tantrum was the end of the world? "My name's Gwen," she said. Michael raised her head at this, but made no comment. "I'm—I'm a friend of your dad's. Amelia's a very pretty name. Have you ever heard of Princess Amelia?"

At the mention of a princess, the girl's large brown eyes, so like her father's, widened in interest. "Who's she?"

"She was the youngest daughter of King George III. She was very nice and kind. Her father loved her very much, and so did her mother and her brothers and sisters." Gwen paused. Perhaps she shouldn't mention that it was Princess Amelia's death that drove her poor father to madness. "And there's also Amelia Earhart," she said. "She was the first woman to fly across the Atlantic." Again, Gwen paused when she remembered that Ms. Earhart disappeared while trying to fly around the globe. She looked at Michael to see if he'd noticed her bungled attempt to cheer his daughter up. He was still at the table, watching her with an inscrutable expression, just as he had when they first met in the alley. She cleared her throat and returned her attention to Amelia. "Now, can you be kind like Princess Amelia and brave like Amelia Earhart?"

Hesitantly, the little girl nodded. Gwen smiled. "Good. Tell me about Snappy then."

Amelia's little mouth screwed up, and she blinked rapidly, threatening tears again. "He's—m-my croc-crocodile," she hiccupped. "He's gold and has black teeth and he's very scary and he protects me."

"Ah, so that's why he has to stay home then," said Gwen, as if she'd just made a great discovery. "He has to keep it safe for when you and your mum come back."

"Really?"

"Yes. He knows you'll be perfectly safe here with your dad. And"—here Gwen pulled out the teddy from her bag and handed it to Amelia—"in case you're feeling lonely, here's Teddy. He may not be as scary as Snappy, but he can keep you company until you see Snappy again, all right?"

Amelia took the teddy, turned it this way and that, and held it experimentally. Finally, satisfied that the teddy was safe, she hugged it to her chest and smiled at Gwen through her tears.

"Now there's a great big smile," Gwen said, smiling back and giving the girl's nose a little bop.

"My dad always says my smile's as big as Christmas," said Amelia.

"And he's right."

As if on cue, Michael appeared next to them. He nodded at Gwen gratefully and took Amelia into her room.

Gwen was still sitting on the sofa bed when he came out a few minutes later and sat down next to her. "You're really good with her," he said.

"So are you."

"No, I'm not. You heard what she said. She didn't even want to stay with me."

"Michael, she's four," Gwen said. "She's knackered. A four-year-old would say they hate you one minute, then turn around and kiss you the next. That's what they do."

"How do you know?"

Gwen rubbed a hand across her eyes. Amelia wasn't the only one who was tired. Gwen felt like she could lie down and sleep for a thousand years. "I lied earlier," she said. "I do have a kid. Her name's Emma. She's six—no, seven now."

Michael tilted his head, looking at her more closely. "Where is she?"

"She lives with a foster family in Croydon. I haven't seen her in three years." The foster mum sent photos, and Gwen tried to call when she could, but it wasn't the same. "Sometimes I'm afraid she's forgotten me."

"Why can't you see her?"

Gwen didn't answer. It was a wound she wasn't ready to open yet.

Michael went back to the kitchen and fiddled about with the kettle. He came back a moment later with two steaming cups, and handed Gwen one. It reminded her of the tea she used to make for herself as a kid, too sweet and milky for her liking now, but she said nothing. They sat sipping their tea in companionable silence.

"Do you believe some people just can't be loved?" Michael asked.

"What?"

"Some people always seem to end up alone. It's like they can't be loved."

Gwen took a moment to answer. The punters all liked to talk. They would complain to her about their jobs, their wives, their girlfriends, their mothers. She could hear Medusa now, telling her, "We're like trick cyclists, darling"—Medusa was not Cockney, but she'd heard that slang for "psychiatrist" on The Bill or EastEnders and liked to slip it into her talk because she thought it made her sound cool—"except we're cheaper and they get some sex on top of that." So when a customer talked, Gwen would just nod absently and say "Is that so?" while thinking of something else.

Now, having been brought closer by the talk of their kids, she asked Michael, "Why do you think that?"

"Everybody in my life is gone," he said, his voice bleak. "My parents—well, they weren't fit to be parents, really. I lost count of how many foster homes I lived in. None of them wanted me. My brother took me in, but then he moved to Australia with his wife and kids. Maybe it's my fault." His head drooped. "I met someone once. I loved her. Or I thought I did. But I fucked it up. I didn't see what she was going through, and I made it worse."

"Was it Amelia's mum?"

"No." He sighed. "But I fucked it up with her as well. She's too good for me. They're all too good for me."

"Is that why you hired me?" Gwen asked before she could stop herself. Michael turned to her, and the look in his eyes went through her heart like a pin. It was the same look he'd given her when they first met, so lost and vulnerable, the look of a lifetime of hurt and loneliness. Now she understood why she had been so taken by it. It was a look she knew well, for she had seen it plenty of times when she looked into the mirror.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean—"

She shrugged. "It's alright. I'm used to that."

He put a tentative hand over hers and closed his fingers around it. "Thank you, Gwen," he said. "Thank you for being here. Thank you for helping me with Amelia."

"Hey, my pleasure." She grinned. "She's a good kid."

"I was frightened to death when she was born, you know," Michael said. "I didn't know what to do. I still don't. What if I fuck it up like I fuck up everything else in my life?"

Gwen squeezed his hand. Finally she understood his despair earlier, just as she had understood his loneliness; understood it because she saw it in herself.

"Want to know why I went to prison?" she asked. "Why I haven't seen my daughter?"

He looked at her, not with morbid curiosity as most people did when they learned she'd been to prison, but with interest and sympathy. She pulled off her blonde wig, and, turning her head, spread her mousy brown hair over her ear to show him the ragged scar just above it, which the hair couldn't quite cover.

"Her father, my piece-of-shit boyfriend—he gave me that," she said. "And worse. Then one time, he pushed me too hard. I pushed back. He hit his head on the kitchen counter." Her voice trembled. It was the first time she spoke of this in three years. She steadied herself, and continued, "I could've called an ambulance, but I didn't. I just stood there and watched him die. Got me three years for that. Involuntary manslaughter." She lifted her eyes to Michael's face. "Think you can fuck up your kid's life worse than I did?" she asked. She tried to laugh and began to cry.

Michael reached out and drew her to him until she was in his arms with her head on his shoulder, just like how he'd held Amelia. He said nothing, but in his embrace, she could feel her fears quiet down, if not fade away entirely. She thought of Emma, and herself, of Amelia, and Michael, of the frightened child inside all of them, waiting only for someone to reach out and hold them and tell them that it's going to be all right.

She buried her nose in Michael's neck, taking in his scent of soap and sweat and smoke, and let out a breath she had been holding for three years, or perhaps even longer. "This is nice," she said. "I can see why you'd pay for this."

Michael's shoulders and chest rumbled pleasantly with laughter, and Gwen smiled as well.

"Can I see you again?" he asked.

Her smile faltered. Somehow, his question made her sad. It brought her crashing back to reality, a reality in which she would have to go back out on the street soon, back to the cold and the loneliness and the emptiness.

But professional habit won out in the end, and she didn't even sigh as she gave him the answer she'd always used with all her customers, "You know where to find me."

"No, not as Queenie," he said. "I want to see you again as Gwen. And without the wig. Can I?"

She lifted her head to look at him. He didn't let go, only slid his hand up her shoulder and her neck to cradle her cheek. As the warmth of his gaze and the tenderness of his caress enveloped her, Gwen made a decision.

Tomorrow, she would go and buy Emma a Christmas present. And bring it to her in person.

Tomorrow, she would ring that number on the card of the non-profit group.

But today, tonight, she would stop running away.

"Yes," she told Michael. "Yes, you can."

THE END

Yes, "Snappy" is the crocodile that Maria gave to Leah.

And of course, it wouldn't be my fic without a Snow Patrol song to accompany it (the title comes from the first line of lyric):

[ajortga]

hot cocoa?

pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader (platonic sam carpenter x fem reader)

a/n- a winter's special of december! ahh christmas! i'll be gone for 2 weeks for the holidays but i wanted to wrap something special for you guys, I started this in october and i was like its literally too early, so i finished it up! i have another idea for a story but i havent started on lead series at allll..

-

Cold breeze slipped through your body as you walked through the pathways of New York City. The weather was coldly crisp, your breath would fog up as you exhaled through your parted lips.

As petite flakes of snow fell gracefully, the wind began to pick up. You felt goosebumps begin to coat your arms, shivering and wrapping your hoodie around yourself tighter. 

You sat just outside of your local coffee shop, you could feel the warmness caressing your body as the door opened and closed, a small ding ringing as a customer stopped by. You waited for your girlfriend, Tara to finish her coffee bean shopping like she did every two weeks for Sam.

You never minded tagging along with her, having her take her time. You would give anything to spend more time than you already have with her. It was so crowded today, as much as you wanted to go in and feel the warmth of her, of the coffee shop, you couldn't. It was compacted and surely you would be squeezed from all of the figures. You didn't mind to tell her to take her time. But today, winters storm began to blow with harshness, causing you to wish she would buy her coffee beans quicker.

Your nose was red, sniffling as the cold sweet air inhaled through your body perfectly. You could swear that if you wrapped your (Tara's) hoodie around you even tighter than it already was, it would pop and tear like a balloon. 

Christmas lights brightened all of New York, complimenting the snow just right. There was an ice skating rink at the center of NYC, jumbo screens projecting holiday advertisements. You saw little children wearing giant puffy jackets with earmuffs and gloves, giggling as they walked around the streets with their parents. Faint holiday songs could be heard, mixed with the laughs and chatters of people around you. You exhaled, your breath fogging up in the winter snow.

Your shoulders un-tensed as soon as you heard the coffee shop bell ding. Your tiny, sweet, cozy-looking Tara waddling out with her coffee beans in hand. Her eyes beamed at you as she pulled you in for a tight hug, nose nuzzling your neck.

"Hi baby." You smile, blush creeping on your cheeks as you felt your heart flutter.

Her body warmth spread through you like a wave. You sighed happily, smelling her sweet scent from her hair.

Warm.

It made you want to hold her just a little tighter. 

Your girlfriend giggled, kissing your cheek as she caressed your face.

"You must be cold, baby. You're freezing!" She gasped as she touched your snowy, icy cold face, rubbing your blushed cheeks. Warmth flooded through you.

She took off her beanie and placed it gently on your head, securing it. 

"You look cute," she cooed, snuggling you.

You felt warmer, of course you did, you always felt warm with Tara around.

"I'm sorry I had to make you wait for so long. They sold out of our favorite and they were checking if they had any in the back. You must've been freezing, your nose is all red Y/N."

You sniffle, rubbing your nose as you kiss her, "Don't apologize love, it just got a little chilly." You grin, your body shaking again as the wind picks up once again.

"A little?"

"Okay it's really cold," You admit.

Tara rolled her eyes playfully, looking up at you, "You should've worn more than just my hoodie, I could've lent you my scarves and boots, earmuffs too!" She paused, seeing how your body shook slightly, "Come on, let's go back to our home and make some hot cocoa."

You immediately nodded, "Hot cocoa sounds... Warm."

Tara snorted softly, giggling once again as her arm curled around yours, you nuzzled her nose and sniffled as you both walked back to your apartment.

The walk back was quite easy, if Tara doesn't mention the fact you both slipped on the slippery ice cold pavement on your way home. Tara fell first, but you fell harder with her, both of you sliding down the freezing concrete as you both squeal, struggling to get up.

Both your backs hurt, stretching when you finally entered the apartment building. 

You were freezing, as much as Tara's warmth seeped through you, you felt so numb and cold, your body shaking as you clung on to her, teeth chattering.

"My poor sweetheart. Let's get you inside. Oh Y/N you're shaking." She whispers, voice tinted with concern and worry.

By the time Tara opened your shared apartment with Sam, your frozen body practically dropped to the floor like a piece of bread, groaning against the carpet as Sam came over and laughed.

"Taraa, didn't I say to tell Y/N that it would be freezing?"

"Oh it's my fault? I'm sorry," she mocks, eyeing down her sister, "I'm not the one who ordered their sister to go out knowing that her girlfriend would tag along in the freezing cold."

Sam scoffs, patting your back as you shook, "If your mouth keeps moving any longer I think Y/N will freeze."

Tara immediately snapped out of it, looking down at you as she leaned down, "Shoot, I'm sorry, let's get you somewhere warm."

Her arm wraps around your waist securely as she holds your back and lifts you up easily, your head tucked against her chest as she carries you to the couch and grabs a blanket.

You lay there, shaking, your eyes barely open as Tara jumps in your arms and wraps her legs and arms around you to warm you up, nuzzling her nose to yours. 

She can feel your body practically shaking as she smiles, holding you tighter, Sam comes in and grabs the biggest blanket she can find and throws it over both of you, ruffling her sisters hair in the process.

"I put the ingredients by the counter for some hot chocolate, you guys wanna make it together?"

"Yes!" You both say in unison, practically leaping off each other as your hands wrap around each other to the kitchen.

You think your nose is frozen, Tara has to grab her scarf and wrap it around you as if you're Frosty the Snowman, giving your forehead a kiss.

Your little family warms up the milk on a pot near the stove, while that happens, the milk chocolate is melting in the microwave and Sam is grabbing some new whipped cream from the pantry along with Tara grabbing some peppermints to flake on top after. 

A ding is heard and everyone races to the microwave, Sam opening it and grabbing the bowl, but dropping it back from it being to hot. Tara snickers, prepared as she grabs it with an oven mitt, but you're even more prepared, taller then Tara and tickling her as you grab it with your mitt and using the spatula to mix, leaving the Carpenters whining.

Your eyes beam in victory as you stir, pouring it into the warm and sweet milk as they argue, mixing it all together.

The smell smells like it came straight out of a Christmas movie bakery, the scent makes your mouth water, you can tell it does for Sam and Tara as well, since they have both stopped talking and are staring at the pot like buried treasure.

Now it's everyone's turn to scurry to grab a cup, the three of you frantically grabbing the whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and peppermint flakes, the rivalry long forgotten, every one of you just wants a sip.

You pour the steaming and cozy drink from the pot to the mugs quickly, hearing Sam and Tara's impatient huffs, when you're finally done, every one of you grasps the side of your mugs and sips the sweetness.

You can't tell if it's the cold and the way you quivered or the cocoa itself, but it tasted so warm and creamy. It was perfect.

A small "mhh" sound leaves your lips as you exhale a satisfied sigh, the Carpenters following in suite as a smile forms on Tara's face.

Sam sees the way you both are quite satisfied and huffs, "It would've tasted better if I were to mix-" she's cut off by a shriek when Tara sprays whipped cream on her nose.

That was definitely not the right way, because a war has just broken out as you and Tara run for your lives from Sam.

[esmedelacroix]

Coffee Shop Love Pt. 3

synopsis ! He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit charming barista.

cw ! no use of y/n, fluff, age gap, teeny bit of angst, suggestive

Coffee Shop Love Masterlist | Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Several mornings and nights with Miguel passed you by until you had fallen into the routine of seeing him twice a day. When you saw him, the two of you would talk about random things while doing your own things.

Of course, there was the occasional obviously flirty comment that thickened the odd tension between you. You had been feeling it for two weeks and couldn't quite place it.

The next morning you got up and got ready to start baking for the morning rush. By the time you got down to the shop, your two employees Miles and Gwen were already baking the muffins and cakes. You said hello and went over the menu for the day. You then started preparing lunch menu ingredients and Miles took the first wave of breakfast costumers.

You felt your phone buzz in your back pocket mid morning rush cool down. Which was weird because no one ever texted you in the morning. You took your phone out and stared at the message that awaited you.

Miguel: Hey could you make my coffee in advance? I'm running late today...

You: Of course, hurry!

Miguel: Maybe sneak a lil muffin in there...?

You: Sugar? Am I speaking to Miguel or an imposter?

Miguel: 😡

You smiled down at your phone. Older people using emojis always cracks me up. You thought, as you put your phone back in your pocket and made his order. While the morning rush built up to its usual catastrophic storm of angry city folk, Mr. Smith picked up his order and his rent, just when the morning rush was at peak catastrophe and the line was going out of the shop, you saw Miguel pull up to the sidewalk and step out of his car.

You threw on your scarf and earmuffs, along with a puffer jacket and gloves before heading outside. If there was one weakness you had, it was your sensitivty to cold weather. You rushed out to Miguel who was leaning against his car. "Hey, I came as fast as I could," you huffed out smiling at him.

"Thank you, Baby—you look warm," he teased. He noticed the way your eyes watered when gusts of wind carried snow. How the snowflakes fell on your nose and eyelashes. The way your face turned a slight shade of pink, he could already guess that if you didn't have those earmuffs on, your little ears would be pink too. Even though you were wrapped in the warmest clothes, you still looked so chilly. Miguel was resisting the urge to wrap his arms around you and warm you up properly himself.

"I'm so sensitive to the cold, my hands and feet are always cold," you explained as you held his drink out to him as well as a little brown paper bag. "I packed you a lemon poppyseed muffin, something tells me you'll enjoy it," you said.

"Hmm, I let you know," he hummed looking away. He was obviously a bit embarrassed to be enjoying baked goods. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head.

"Get inside Baby, or you might freeze right where you stand," Miguel chuckled as he ushered you back into the shop.

You waved goodbye and entered the battlefield of morning brews and muffins. It was a long day but you looked forward to when the clock finally struck 9 p.m. because you knew Miguel would walk in, probably get stuck in the mistletoe, and say hello.

So when he had walked through the door into the empty shop and got caught in the mistletoe while accidentally knocked over the yuletide, your night was finally complete.

You never would have thought that a man as intimidating as Miguel would also be so clumsy. But it wasn't his fault that he was incredibly tall and monstrously muscular.

"Miguel, can you stop trashing my shop?" you teased as you walked around the counter to fix your holiday decor. Just when you had adjusted the yuletide, his broad shoulder bumped into a bell and it fell as well.

"Great, now you're throwing stuff at me," you joked giggling at his clumsiness.

"Oh stop it," Miguel said rolling his eyes. The both of you were so lost in the moment of laughter and bliss that you didn't realize that you were standing at the entrance of the store. You both realized and looked above you to see the mistletoe, you felt the heat rise from your chest to your face all the way to your ears.

You had never been this close to Miguel so you never realized that his eyes which you thought were mahogany brown had a slight hint of ruby in them. They were both whiskey and wine while simultaneously being black coffee and velvet cake.

He smelled like sandalwood, vallina, musk, roses, and cedarwood. In short, he smelled better than sex. His scent drugged you and kept you in his trance while swimming in his eyes. You stared at each other far too long for it to be nothing. You finally broke the tension by clearing your throat. "It's too bad you don't believe in Christmas, I'm a really good kisser," you quipped, as you walked behind the counter. You hoped that he didn't notice how nervous you were. He walked up to the counter visibly not over what had just happened.

"Well, who said I don't believe in Christmas?" he asked.

"I said I haven't celebrated in a while," he explained, correcting you.

"Are you just saying that because you want a smooch? So needy," you said shaking your head at him. You handed him his coffee, which you already started to make. Your question made him blush a bit. Cute.

"Don't worry you don't have to answer that question, but you have to tell me if you liked the muffin I made you," you asked with a shy smile.

"It was actually really good. But don't take that wrong way, I still don't like sweet things," he assured.

"Yeah sure, anyway I'm going to drop the extras off at the soup kitchen down the road if you want to tag along?" you suggested

"Okay, I don't really have much to do," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

You were partially asking so he could help load the stuff into your car (What? He didn't have all that muscle for nothing). As you both got in the car and drove the short drive to the soup kitchen, you sparked a bit of conversation. "So, I've never seen you around the area, did you just move here?" you asked.

"I moved recently, I actually work at Alchemax, it's not too far away," he explained. You let out an impressed hum.

"Ohh snazzy, what do you do there?" you asked, as you taped the wheel rhythmically to the Frank Sinatra Christmas song playing in the background.

"I'm a geneticist," he answered.

"Yeah, I don't know what that is, but I was born and raised here," she said as Miguel laughed at her earlier comment.

"Tell me more," Miguel said under stifled laughter.

"The coffee shop is kind of a family heirloom if you will, it's been around for decades. Naturally, I followed in my parents' footsteps and went to culinary school. But my parents passed away a while ago so I couldn't finish school," she explained.

"Well, I'm sure your parents would be proud. I think you have this coffee thing down to a T," he said, making you smile like an idiot.

"Thank you, Miguel, that means a lot," you said as you pulled up to the shelter. You both got the stuff out of the trunk. You walked in and took it to the front desk where your best friend Estella was. "Hey, Baby—oh? Who's this? Boyfriend? Hookup?" she asked, sizing him up and giving you a nod of approval.

"This is Miguel, and um, he's my uh—" you started trying to find the words.

"We're friends," he answered simply. Estella still looked at you suspiciously before letting the volunteers take the goods off our hands.

"Well you two have a great night, and Miguel, she may not look like it but, she likes it rough," Estella teased throwing a wink at Miguel.

"Oh my god, Estella!" you groaned as you walked out with Miguel and got back into the car. The ride was silent until he chuckled, "Rough huh?"

"Please forget she said that," you said smiling sheepishly at the revelation.

"Oh, so you're not going to deny it?" he asked.

"Well, why deny it when it's true?" you said accepting the shame.

You had parked and looked over at his face for a reaction to this information. But nothing, you couldn't read his expression. The two of you spent the rest of the night chatting it up about everything under the sun(or moon). You had learned so much about Miguel.

You learned that he has a brother named Gabriel, his favorite color is red, he prefers chocolate over gummies(wrong opinion). You realized in your time knowing him, he absolutely has to keep eye contact when speaking with someone. His eyes never left yours and it made you feel like you were forgetting how to breathe.

As you both continued to bond over Christmas cookies and brews, your moment was interrupted by a buzz from both of your phones. It was an amber alert that read:

[Blizzard Warning! This area til 9:00 PM EST Mon. All citizens must stay indoors. All roads closed]

-> Next Part

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@amber-content

[viceconnor21]

Well I finally done with Tango’s reference sheet in my AU. I have been sitting on this design since probably May. One day, maybe I’ll update the design. I’m just glad it’s finished.

Pyrotech Frost-Ember

Personality Traits (short version):

Kirin

emotional

Prodigy of elemental magic (fire and ice)

When calm, relaxed, and well rested Pyrotech will be in a neutral form (no flames)

When relaxed, well rested, and focused Pyrotech can change form at will

Magic is sensitive to his emotions

Strong emotions will affect his form (this is outside his control)

High energy emotions = Flaming form

Low energy emotions = Frost form

Genius in the use of red hermit stone and elemental magic together

Loves designing games for his friends

Hates when creatures say his whole name (rather than just Pyro or Pyrotech)

Would like to get to know the accident prone pegasus with the golden wings

Bad eye-sight

Turns either feral or stone cold when angry.(depends on the type of anger)

Best buds with Fizz and Voltage

Stays up way too late to effectively manage his emotions

Takes a lot of naps during the day due to his body’s constant magic consummation and poor sleep schedule. (high magic Metabolism)

Will sleep anywhere

Background:

Pyro’s eyes fluttered, only for him to startel fully awake a second later. He shot up, hitting his head on the hermit stone lamp positioned above his crafting bench. As he nursed his head, he watched the lamp swing back and forth, casting a soft light on the frost that coated every inch of his work space. Yawning Pyro slowly regained his bearings. He cleared the frost from the window, only to see the faintest ray of sunlight cresting the horizon. He had fallen asleep at his workbench again after burning the midnight oil. No wonder he was covered in an icy coating. He had all but collapsed a couple hours previous completely consuming his energy the night before. He was on a role, designing and testing some components for his zeplin. Pyro yawned again, making his way to the kitchen. His eyes were droopy and his steps slow. Pyrotech knew he should go back to bed. Voltage would have smacked him if he knew how much sleep he had gotten. Not that Voltage had much room to talk. Void would smacked both of them if he knew how often they both neglected their sleep, in exchange to more time working on project. That thought made Pyro feel a bit guilty. He knew how much the tantabus cared about the residences of Hermit Valley. He knew how much he worried about them too. But still, the guilt wasn’t enough to change his mind. Pyrotech prepare his coffee and sat idly while waiting for it to brew. He went through his to-do list in his mind. He had to go into the mines today for more materials, stop by the post office, and pick up some brewing bottle in the shopping district. Maybe he would even stop by Voltage and Fizz’s house to cause some mischief. Pyrotech grinned at the possibility of friendly chaos he could cause. The sound of his coffee stirred him from his musings. He grabbed the warm mug and breathed in it’s rich scent. He relished the feeling of the energizing liquid warming his entire being. As he sat there drinking his coffee, he could almost feel the caffeine work its way into his bones. Nearly finished with his beverage, he watched the dark blue of his coat gradually revert to his usual bright red. Pyro put the cup in the sink and he shook off the last threads of sleep clinging to muscles. He grabbed his bag, opened the door and took in the glory of the early morning sun. He was really to get the day started, and if he timed things right, he could “run into” the sheriff on his way to lunch. That thought caused little licks of flames at the ends of his mane. With a smile, Pyrotech trotted towards the community mines.

Pyrotech Frost-Ember is a prodigy in the field of fire and ice elemental magic. (Two disciplines that don’t usually go together) In most other creatures, the opposing fire and ice magic would quite literally rip the wielder apart, as both are very reactive. However, due to a Kirin’s innate nature to change form with their emotions, and Pyro’s inborn talent and years of study, both magics exist in harmony within him. With that being said, being a Kirin, Pyrotech’s magic is highly reactive and linked with his emotions and emotional state. For example, when Pyrotech is calm, relaxed, and well rested, he will appear in his neutral form. He will have a red coat and blond mane with no flames. While in this state, with focus, Pyro can change his form at will, channeling the desired magic. However, his magic is sensitive to his emotions and strong emotions, positive and navigate, will affect his form. He has little control in these cases. For example, if Pyrotech experiences high energy emotions like hot anger, excitement, frustration, joy will trigger his flaming form. This form is similar to his neutral form, but his mane will burst into flames. The higher his energy, the stronger and wilder the flames. Low energy emotions like fear, exhaustion , annoyance, sadness, or cold anger, will trigger his frost form without his control. Anger is a wild card when it comes to emotions. “Hot” anger will cause a feral response, being intense, immediate, and often explosive. while “cold” anger will cause him to become stone hearted, with more subdued expression of that anger. Basically, don’t piss off the kirin.

Pyrotech loves making games for his friends. He is known for his talent to integrate magic, games, and red hermit stone. While his friends are known for their pioneering in everyday red hermit stone usage and integration, Pyrotech has made a name for himself, in his ability to create large, complex, and complicated systems using the enchanted stone. Each system doing fantastical, mechanical job. His redstone projects will often keep them up till the early hours or the morning. However, due to the way his body uses up magic, he gets exhausted quickly. He will fall asleep anywhere, and usually in the middle of a project. He has a high magical Metabolism and poor sleep schedule. He also has poor eyesight, along with color blindness. His eyes are also light sensitive, due to his tribe's history of living underground and in mountains, in large lava carved caverns. He wears special google-like glasses because of this. He is best friends with Fizzy Pop and Voltage.

** if you read this far, good for you and thank you! I’m not a writer and barely an artist, so if you enjoy my silly Pony AU, Thank you!

[popcornforone]

Teacher Teaser

A Mr Ben Fan Fic

I always say to myself stop writing Mr Ben, but then i get an idea & bang there is no stopping me. So here we are again, with some naughty Mr Ben. Insipired by the gif I was sent below

Synopsis:- It the hottest day of the year & its to hot to do a thing… except Mr Ben has other ideas.

Word Count:-2200

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral sex (both) 69, teasing, swearing, alluding to other sex in the past & still to come. Established relationship. Use of Sir & slight dom vibes at points but Ben isn’t your teacher.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, all feed back is welcome, I hope you enjoy.

Yea that’s the gif that inspired it that I was sent.

It’s too hot to go outside today. You had to run to the shop to get some bits earlier, but by the time you got back to your apartment after a 30 minute trip you were sweeting buckets. So after you’ve but everything in the fridge you go & change into your white floral sundress. Your boobs are sweating too so you decide to remove your bra as well. The aircon hits you as you walk into the lounge. A nice breeze which makes you glad you have this. When your partner joked about buying an apartment that had this, you did think it wasn’t worth it. But now here in the blistering heat, you’re glad he insisted on it. He’s got the aircon on in the second bedroom which you’ve turned into an office as he marks some exams for the end of term. You slowly saunter through to the kitchen & get a long cold iced tea with plenty of ice & an apple to munch on & you make your way back to the lounge. Any chair is at your disposal, but the idea of lying across the sofa seems to be gripping your mind.

You grab your book from the side that you have to pack for when you both go on vacation in a few weeks. It’s too hot to do anything else, a few chapters of this while you wait for Ben to finish his work will be fine. You lie across 3 of the 4 seats on the sofa, your ice tea on the coffee table along with the apple & you see how long the first couple of chapters are.

“Yea I can do this” you say softly to yourself & start to read. You don’t put any music on you can hear some soft pop coming from Bens office which you like, it’s your playlist he’s actually got on, so you sit & read for a little while.

You’re really engrossed in the book that you don’t hear the door to the office open & Ben just stop & stare at you for a few minutes. He’s looking at your silky smooth legs, your knees rubbing as you read. He softly smiles & sighs looking at you being so carefree & relaxed. Your freshly painted blue toes shining on the grey sofa. He’s always loved to rub your feet. He always takes his time talking off your heels after a night out, kissing all the way up every time from your tip toes to your sex. Mumbling how soft your skin is as he goes. It makes you feel so good. He’s looking at the bottom of your feet unable to control himself. He slowly walks to the side of the sofa, kneels on the floor & slowly starts to rub & massage the balls of your feet. You gasp as the sensation & then your eyes widen as you look past your book.

“Ooooh ben”

“Total relaxation baby” he says as he works out the knots in your feet that you didn’t know were there. You bite your bottom lip looking at your man down the other end of the sofa. He’s smiling smugly. Those big brown eyes looking soft & seductive at the same time. “What you reading baby girl” he asks softly, your ankles now receiving a nice caress. When you tore your Achilles a few years ago Ben took extra care of your ankles at that point, that’s how this slow seduction from top to bottom started.

“Sharp Objects” you say, your voice already being effected by him as it turns breathy.

“Weren’t you saving that for our holiday?”

“Yea I was but it’s too hot to do anything at all today, so I thought I’d read a couple of chapters”

“& when you finish it on our trip?” He asks, his large hands now trailing up your shins.

“I’ll read one of the books you’ve got to read for term next year that you always take away with you to read but never get round to”

“I do read them”

“Well you start” you interrupt & pick up your iced tea. A few drops of condensation fall from the glass & hiss on your chest, evaporating in the heat even with the air con. He licks his own lips looking at how hot you are physically & how hot you are to him as you gulp your drink away. “But you never get it finished”

“How can I when you’re lying on a sun lounger next to me in a tiny bikini?” He says as he moves up the sofa. His hands now trail up your thighs. You shiver at such a sensual touch.

“Ben you need to stop”

“Make me” he’s blunt as his hand finds the Lace material of your thong. His eyes full of mischief as he pushes his thumb into the material & then your clit. You moan & almost drop the book, dampening your underwear instantly.

“Fuck ben”

“We will get there beautiful” & he slips a few finger inside your underwear. His precision with his small circles & motions have your thighs shaking, he only does it for about 30seconds but it’s all it takes for your hips to start moving & your legs to start going all unnecessary.

“Ohoooooohhhh”

“You like that beautiful?” You nod in reply then his hands go into your waist band & he peels the thong from your sex. The lace tracing down your thighs & legs. Your body wanting him. It’s not hard to want Ben, he is yours but right now the idea of sensual love making to occupy your afternoon on this hot summers day has you dampening even more. He doesn’t sniff your thong, he gently places on the coffee table next to the apple.

“An apple for your favourite teacher? “ he questions as he takes off his crisp white tshirt. His firm hairy chest makes your legs part instantly. You both know what’s coming. He tuts as he sees your entrance glistening. “Well I may not be your teacher, but I can always…” he hovers over your after he’s crawled onto the sofa.”… give you a lesson…” he then softly plants a kiss on your lips”…in oral” you suddenly feel two fingers slip inside your entrance.

“Fuck Ben”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sir”

“That’s more like it” he starts to pulse them, the friction against you has your thighs pushing together. He smirks before he gives you a much deeper kiss. One that is reserved for intimate moments, his lips taste of coffee & yours are so cold from the iced tea it has him hissing.

“Oooh beautiful” he slides back down towards your entrance & drops his head down. His prize all ready for him. “So ready” his nose rubs against your clit & the book that was in your hand is now dropped to the floor, no bookmark, you’ll have to start from the beginning again a when you get on holiday, not that you care at all right now.

“Mmmmmm” you moan & then pant as his talented tongue licks its first strip. His hands gripping your hips, your own hands want to push him down further but you know if you make it too intense now you’ll be cumming in seconds, & you’ve not worked out if this is just for your pleasure or if this is going to be an entire afternoon on sensual exploits.”yes Ben ooh yes” he then sucks a little too hard & you flinch. “Sorry oooh yes sir”

“Love it when you call me that” he says before he full on burrows his head in your thighs, greedily flicking his tongue in & out of you. His hand grip more & your own lift up your dress so that your hand can get underneath it grasping at your own tender sensitive breasts, desperate for this moment to never stop.

“Fuck, more Ben” you whine, your perfectly manicured nails teasing your nipples make you rhyth more as he gets to work. Ben then looks up & looks at the state of you.

“Fucking beautiful” he moans before going back to his tasting. One hand makes its way to your clit & that’s all it takes for you to move your own hands into his own crazy mop of hair. Pushing him down more. Making him moan with each suck of your succulents. The more he does that the more you move, squeezing his head between your thighs. It’s a never ending circle of pleasure between you both & it’s unlikely to stop.

“Fuck Ben I’m gonna cum” you just about manage to speak between the noises you’ve been making. Your blinking up at the ceiling before you groan his name, your world shattering as you explode in desire. He keeps licking, getting every drop on his mouth, your his sweetest honey.

“Fuck baby” he moans as he lifts his head up & wipes his chin. “That’s always a pleasure to drink from”

“Hmmm” you hum. “Do I get to taste you”

“Depends” he replies, a smug look on his face as he unzips his shorts. “Do you want to the ultimate taste sensation or do you just want some pleasure?” You know what this means. He wants to know if your up for an afternoon of love making which will start off with a very intimate & sensual 69 or if you are to hot & therefore he will just quickly fuck you to get his own release. He can see your eyes contemplating all the scenarios.

“Well Ben… I’ve got nowhere else to be today… or tomorrow” you lick your lips & wink. He smirks & the shorts & boxers come down in one motion as your sit up & slip your dress off. He crawls onto the sofa & shimmys so his head is looking up between your legs, looking up at the mess his mouth just made. He sighs before giving you a slight spank.

“Then let’s make the most of our time, sexy” you respond to his reply & you shimmy down him already moaning as he spreads your cheeks & starts to feast once again on your pussy. Pre cum around his angry head, dripping already as you spit in his length ready to endulge in his own delights.

“Take your time Ben this is going to be a long hot summers afternoon” you lick the tip & swallow what’s already been collected your hands working the shaft. A few more licks before you engulf all of his girth. He always says you have a big mouth with it comes to talking but for oral it has him whingeing at how he just about fits inside.

“Fuck sweetie” he groans before going back to his own tasty delights.

There your two bodies are. Linked together in passion. Every time you come up for air you groan. Your cunt fluttering away as he lick every inch of it inside & out. Your head bobs down to his balls, covering his penis in your saliva. He every now & then when he’s not squeezing or parting your arse cheeks sticks a finger or two inside either hole he desires & it has you spluttering all over him. Your body tensing up grinding your pussy down onto his face. You’re moving at a rhythm you would do for standard sex & you both pant.

“Fuck” Ben growls as he is unexpectedly covered from your climax. You just couldn’t hold on or give him a warning, he was also so lost in the haze of you hunkering down on him. Your licks become rapid. “I’m gonna cum baby I’m gonna fucking cum, shittt” he screamers. He gave you a few seconds of heads up & you were almost at the tip when hot ropes of his sees spill into your mouth. You choke & gag on it & his penis, as his hips judder beneath you. “Fuck baby oooh fuck” he whines as he calms down & you make sure you swallow every last drop of him.

After a few minutes when you both more relaxed you carefully get off the sofa & then get back on him as he is still laying down. You sit just above his lap, on his tummy, looking flustered but in a glow as you look down at Ben. He’s got a smile of mischief on his face.You reach your hand back behind you & start to stroke his length.

“Jesus, baby, I’m not a machine, especially not in this hot weather”

“It’s okay Ben, I just like to feel it all”

“Ooh I know you do” he sits up & pouts. You lean towards him to give him a tender kiss, your hand letting go of his length.

“It is maybe a bit too hot to have a drawn out session”

“Not it we do it properly” Ben replies & you raise an eyebrow. “I think we need to cool off” he says & then nods in the direction of the shower & starts to rub your inner thighs. “Do you want to join me sweetie”

“Hmmm, yea I guess I could do with a nice long shower with no interruptions”

“Baby the only thing that will stop us will be if we run out of water”

[madjosie]

Thorns and Roses | Bangchan (pt.2)

f!reader x detective!bangchan

part one here

Note: mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, mentions of abuse, use of tobacco, detailed scenes of murder, mental illness

Words: 9k

-

Five days had passed. Nothing.

A pair of brown orbs eyed the tiny black purse that had been sitting on his kitchen counter for the past few days. The comfortable sofa swallowed his body, feet kicked up on the glass coffee table, as his finger hovered over the call button for the almost tenth time that day.

He was sure it was his fault. His fault for bringing her parents up. His fault for being noisy and trying to butt his nose into something that didn’t concern him. His fault for making her relive the traumatizing events.

He sighed heavily, his gaze fixed on the small purse as guilt gnawed at him. Each passing day without hearing from Adriana deepened his concern. Chris replayed their conversation over and over in his mind, wondering if he had pushed too hard, crossed an invisible line that he shouldn’t have. His intentions were to understand her better, to connect on a deeper level, but now he feared he might have driven her insane instead.

His usually warm apartment now felt eerie. The distant sound of cars outside and the soft hum of the refrigerator were the only company to his thoughts.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the way his body pressed into the soft cushions or the repeating sounds of car engines roaring under his window. His hand dropped the phone he was holding and, with a quick move, he dropped his feet from the coffee table. Snatching the purse and slipping on his shoes, he made his way out of the apartment and into the surprisingly warm street. His feet moved on their own. He wasn’t even fully conscious of where he was going, but he was sure he was heading in the right direction.

The moment his hand made contact with the cold, curved handle and the familiar bell signaled his presence, his mind regained consciousness.

“Good morning, welcome to Petal Paradise,” a cheerful, high-pitched voice spoke from the back room of the shop. “Just a minute, please.”

The usual jazz-like melody of her voice seemed to disappear, despite it being cheerful as always when she greeted someone. Chris waited, the scent of fresh flowers filling his nostrils. Their vibrant colors were a stark contrast to the dull ache in his chest. He looked around, taking in the arrangements of roses, lilies, and daisies that decorated the small shop. His free hand clutched the small purse while the other found its way to tap repeatedly on the wood of the front counter.

He couldn’t make out the sounds coming from the back of the workshop; the faint melody from the radio was too distracting for his racing mind. One second he focused on the soft hum of the music, and the next he was replaying snippets of their last conversation. He tried to push away the nagging thought that maybe he should just leave, that perhaps he was only making things worse by being here. He could just leave the purse on the counter and get out.

“Oh, Christopher, was it?”

The once faint voice in the distance was now much clearer as the auburn-haired girl made her appearance on the other side of the counter.

“Lila?” The tone of his voice was mixed with both surprise and relief. “What are you doing here?”

“I took a couple of shifts for Adriana. I suppose you’re looking for her?”

“Do you know where she is?”

The short girl spoke as she untied the knot of her glue-stained apron and set it aside on the counter. “She wasn’t feeling well, so she took a couple of days off. She’s probably at her apartment, lying sick in bed.”

Chris just nodded at the answer, not really knowing how to proceed with the conversation. Could it be that he had messed her up so badly that she couldn’t even bring herself to be at the shop, the shop she considered a second home? Chris’s hands gripped the bag a bit tighter, clearly catching Lila’s attention. “Is that hers?” All he did was nod to answer her.

“I can take that for her.” Her hand reached for the bag, but with a swift move, Chris’s hand moved the bag behind his back, an awkward expression plastered on his face. Lila’s lips broke into a laugh.

“Oh, okay, I get it.” She giggled.

His face was still filled with confusion as the girl in front of him laughed. He couldn’t quite understand why he did that, but the girl in front of him seemed to be piecing some things together.

“Go down the street, take a right turn, and you will see a big blue complex. Fifth floor.”

“Oh, I’m not—”

Her hands grabbed the man’s forearms, turning him to face the door he came from. “Yeah, yeah. Just go give her some company. I’m sure she’ll be more glad to see you than me.”

She gave him a gentle push toward the door as his head turned to look at her. She just sent him a wink, and with that, his face was hit with a ray of warm air. His feet moved on their own once more as he walked down the street, trying to take as slow steps as possible, trying to postpone facing his own problems—problems that could have been so easily avoided.

Wouldn’t it be weird if he just showed up at her apartment? What if he finally got that deserved slap that had been pending for the past five days? Actually, if that was the case, Lila wouldn’t have directed him to her. Well, maybe she didn’t even tell her about that night. There was something off about Lila today. She was probably just concerned for her friend.

Chris’s thoughts flew away as his steps seemed to quicken, and soon his gaze stopped at the blue apartment complex. He wished the building would just collapse before him, or maybe that the lift he entered would just stop working and trap him in for eternity. Better yet, if it just fell and turned into a crime scene.

-

This was probably the right time to turn around and leave.

He felt beads of sweat form on his forehead as the hand that knocked on the door settled at his side while the other gripped the velvety fabric of the bag. The bag that was the reason for all of this happening. Sounds of keys jingling could be heard from the other side; the doorknob turned, and the door creaked open, revealing a pair of tired, widened eyes.

She froze at the sight of him, not even thinking of a word to say, simply stunned by the face she least expected to see at her front door. He didn’t say a word either, gaze staying fixated on her tired eyes, decorated with dark bags. He seemed to be in shock that he was there at her door, just as she seemed to be shocked that he was there.

He licked his lips, trying to shift his eyes anywhere but to hers. They jumped from the light wood door to the peephole, and then lastly to his own shoes. It was painful to see her once sparkling eyes lose all their light and be replaced by redness; it made his heart swell and pick up its pace.

As he kept his head down, she noticed the thing he was holding in his hand. She forgot all about that goddamn bag, the only memory from that night being the piercing pain she felt and the sensation of the branches hitting her as she ran. Ran away from the man who now stood before her.

Two times in one night, that voice had taken control of her. Two times in one night, she had lashed out in front of the people she felt comfortable letting her walls down with. She didn’t know where it came from, and she didn’t know what caused it, but it was far more powerful than her.

She hadn’t had the chance to apologize to Lila yet, but the girl hadn’t put pressure on her, giving her a few calls here and there to see if she needed anything. Maybe in some situations, Lila’s obliviousness and trust in Adriana came in handy. But for sure, pulling out a knife in someone’s apartment would send them over the edge and break all contact with the person—hell, maybe even call the police. Lila knew she had to give her best friend space, but the lack of confrontation made Adriana want to rip her own hair out, strand by strand.

It was eating her up inside, bit by bit; she felt like she was losing control of herself.

Adriana took a step back from the entrance of her apartment, opening the door a bit more to make way for the dark-haired man. He finally looked up at her, taking a step inside as she closed the door behind him.

“I’ll set this here for you,” his voice was awfully quiet as he spoke. One more reason to make the guilt wash over her once again.

“Chris,” her voice was just as quiet as his as she called out his name. She didn’t have a sentence made up in her mind before she decided to speak, but she knew she somehow had to break the ice. She didn’t even know what she would say even if she had one made up. It didn’t feel right to tell him about the storm in her mind. Something in her just made her feel that could lead to the possible destruction of their already weak relationship. Were they even considered friends at this point? He knew about her family, her mother, her misery, and she knew about his choices in life, his dread of them, and his confusion about where life was leading him. Knowing that much about someone would surely qualify them as a friend, right?

Both of their movements were slow, as if they were both trying not to make the other one run away. They faced each other as they stood in the middle of the small apartment. The apartment was already suffocating on it's own, but now by the presence of Chris, it felt like a coffin.

“Listen, I don’t know what came over me—” Her voice was even quieter this time, but it got cut short by the feeling of her body being pressed up against his. His arms wrapped around her smaller frame, almost like guarding her, protecting her from every single bad thing in this world. She tried to muffle out another word, but his embrace only got tighter. The feeling of his arms strongly gripping her sent an unusual sensation through her senses, making her almost forget all about the past couple of days. It was a strange sense of comfort, one she hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity, but also one that seemed to linger in the air every time she was in his presence. His scent made her close her eyes, taking a deep breath as she slowly rested her head against him.

It was to no use to resist the urges this time; they were much stronger than her. Her arms found their way around his waist, connecting at his lower back as her body pushed further into his embrace.

He felt like a series of fireworks exploded in him as he felt her arms wrap around him. It was like he had waited for this kind of moment ever since he sat down next to her on that emerald couch that was definitely not made for two. The voice in his head calculating all of the possibilities this irrational decision could have gone wrong quieted down by the feeling of their bodies pressed together.

He knew he wasn’t good with words, and by saying anything more he could probably reignite the fire that was slowly extinguishing itself away, but he still spoke up. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

The sentence made Adriana’s breath stop for a second. Such a simple series of words made a couple of wires connect in her head. She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. It was a fight between her and herself again. Either she tells him the truth this time or she lets it bubble up in her system and leaves him to carry the burden of their issues alone.

“You don’t get it, Chris.”

“I got too curious about you. I knew I shouldn’t have asked so many questions, and I didn’t know you’d react like that.”

She disconnected from his embrace, their bodies still close, and their gazes stayed glued to each other.

“I’m so sorry if you felt scared of me at that moment—”

“I heard a voice.”

To her surprise, the soft look in his eyes didn’t change; they still looked at her with the same warmth. It was like they hypnotized her. He stood there quietly, waiting for her to continue.

Adriana licked her lips as her eyes darted from left to right in a second before they set themselves back on Christopher.

“It screamed at me. It screamed at me to run away from you. I—I didn’t have control over my body…” Her voice started to tremble. Chris felt a chill run down his spine. “Has that ever happened before?”

She shook her head, trying to find the right words. None of them felt good enough to explain this situation. He was sure going to storm out of the apartment, paint her as a weirdo or psychopath, hell, maybe even pull out a pair of handcuffs and arrest her then and there.

“That same night, I was at Lila’s apartment. It told me to get up and go to the kitchen. She—she found me with a knife in my hands. I couldn’t even remember getting there.”

There it was, the end of whatever this could have been.

She closed her eyes, waiting for a storm of words to escape from his mouth, or the sound of the door shutting, but, nothing.

His arms reached for her once more, embracing her into another hug. This time, she could feel how his heart beat against his chest, her quickened heartbeat slowing down to match his.

He isn’t leaving.

She let herself slip into the temptation once more, letting his hands wrap around her whole body. His hand made its way to her head, his fingers finding themselves getting lost in her hair.

Why isn’t he leaving?

-

He closed the frosted glass door behind him as his footsteps echoed through the halls of the department. After dropping off some case documents, his shift finally came to an end. For the past week, he had been assigned more and more cases, and to Hank’s surprise, they were all going pretty well. Changbin couldn’t help but feel so proud of his friend; he seemed to be more excited about Chris’s achievements than Chris himself, which led them to plan a celebration for tonight. Well, nothing fancy—just a club and a few drinks. Maybe Changbin was just trying to find an excuse to get drunk on a weekday and found his chance.

Chris made his way into the office area, found his desk, and let his body fall into the chair. He let out a sigh, eyeing the decorations in his little space, or rather the lack of them. It was almost the same as when he first joined the department, the only pop of color being a fake plant that his mom sent him, knowing he couldn’t keep a real one alive, and a bunch of yellow sticky notes glued to the edges of the monitor. They all had his messy handwriting on them—his failed attempts to make connections between murders that happened some time ago, and some filled with his own bored thoughts. That used to be one of the ways he passed time until he actually started getting assigned to do the job he signed up for. A smile found its way to Chris’s lips. He finally had that feeling of belonging he had searched for so long.

“Waiting for Changbin?” Hyunjin made his way to Chris’s desk, alerting the brown-haired boy. He mumbled in affirmation before his gaze shifted to something that the man before him was holding.

“Hank forgot to give you this,” Hyunjin lifted up his hand to show him a USB stick before setting it down on the desk in front of him. “He said you should look over it when you find the time.”

“What case is this for?”

Hyunjin just shrugged his shoulders, running his hand through his long hair. “No clue.”

Chris took the USB, slipping it into the pocket of his jacket as he put it on. “I’ll take a look tomorrow.”

With a silent nod, Hyunjin made his way out of the double glass doors at the entrance. He seemed to be working extra hard for quite some time now; it was hard not to notice that. The dark eye bags decorating his eyes were like a souvenir from every late shift he did. As Hyunjin was making his way out, he bumped into Changbin, giving him a pat on the shoulder and probably a goodbye before they parted ways. Changbin noticed Chris sitting at his desk and, flashing him a smile, picked up his pace to soon be pulling Chris out of his office chair.

“Someone is eager to drink today,” Chris joked as Changbin kept pulling him out of the office area, making their way out of the building.

“I think someone is not eager enough.”

The pair made their way to Chris’s car, a roar from the engine echoing through the underground garage. “I’ll drop my car off at home, then we’ll go, alright?”

-

The big neon sign lit up the street as a swarm of people gathered at the entrance of the local club. It was usually busy on Fridays like this, but this time the line of people queueing to get in was much longer than usual. The three friends exited the taxi, Changbin being a gentleman by opening the door for his girlfriend, while Chan tried not to make a joke about his action. Even though the two colleagues had planned to go drinking alone, Changbin couldn’t help but ask Chris to bring his girlfriend to celebrate with them as well. Chris didn’t mind, but he knew he was going to be a third wheel at some point during the night. As they queued up with the rest of the people, his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Is that you over there, in the black button-up?”

“Oh wait, I see you.” The man held up his hand to wave at the girl. They ended the call as she made her way over to them. She tried to be as fast as she could, but the heels she wore only gave her the possibility of ending up in a hospital because of a broken ankle, so she took her steps slow.

He couldn’t see her properly from a distance at first, but as she got closer, his mouth dropped open at the sight. The tight black dress she wore hugged her waist perfectly, showing the curves of her hips. The heels she wore defined her legs, making her almost the same height as him. He felt his throat tighten and his mind go blurry. It was like he was seeing her for the first time in his life. Well, it was the first time seeing her dolled up like this. Realizing his trailing thoughts, he shifted his eyes to her face, quickly changing his expression to flash her a friendly smile. The smile she returned almost made him drop onto the concrete below him.

“Hi, I’m Elena,” Changbin’s girlfriend didn’t waste a second to reach out her hand to greet the new girl. She flashed her a big smile as Adriana shook her hand, “Adriana.”

Elena was always cheerful and clearly longed for some female connection. She didn’t have problems meeting new people, which resulted in her having a wide circle of friends. Adriana, on the other hand, seemed a bit more reserved but returned Elena’s enthusiasm with a warm smile. “Chan didn’t tell us that he had a girlfriend.”

“She’s just a friend,” he quickly chimed in, trying not to make another one of their interactions embarrassing again. Their relationship had finally stabilized, and they could both proudly say they considered each other friends now.

After the long conversation that day, Chris, to Adriana’s surprise, stayed with her the whole afternoon. It felt weird for him not to lash out at her or label her as crazy. She didn’t think anyone would let the story of her pulling out a knife just fly over their heads and still find compassion for her. But he did; he listened to her, comforting her when needed. His only answer to all of her talking was that it was probably a reaction to something. A reaction from her past traumas perhaps. But there was one thing he was sure of: she wouldn’t hurt anyone.

It was her biggest fear. If she couldn’t remember getting into that state, it killed her inside to think she could potentially do something irrational and hurt someone. She expressed that possibility to him, but he was quick to eliminate those thoughts from her head.

One thing she feared the most out of all was that maybe he saw her as way too good, better than she actually might be.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Elena broke out in a laugh, but the atmosphere didn’t get awkward, probably because Adriana returned the laugh at her remark.

Chris couldn’t help but notice the quietness of Changbin. He looked over at the man, who only had a weird smile plastered on his face. That kind of smile was rare for Changbin; it seemed almost forced. There was no way he was mad Chris invited someone unannounced, not after he literally asked to invite his girlfriend to a plan they had agreed would be just between the two of them.

“The line is really long,” Adriana exclaimed, looking behind them to a new line of people, all dressed in short dresses and fancy flannels. “Ugh, by the time we get in, these heels are gonna kill me,” the shorter girl replied before the two shared a laugh.

“If they even let us in.”

“Right, it will for sure get packed before we get to the bouncer.”

“Also, did you like the flowers Changbin got you?”

“Which-” She took a minute to think before another smile escaped her. “Oh my god, you were the one who made it, he told me about it.”

Adriana couldn’t help but smile at the reaction from the girl. “My friend actually made the bouquet, all credit goes to her.”

As the two girls fell into small talk, Chris moved behind them to stand next to Changbin, giving him a nudge with his elbow. “What’s wrong?”

The shorter boy’s head turned to look at the taller one. He shot a quick glance at the two in front, figuring they were deep into their own conversation, then leaned in closer to Chris. “What is she doing here?”

Chris was not expecting that kind of answer. At all.

“What the hell do you mean? I invited her.” His brows furrowed, his tone becoming a bit more stern as the words left his mouth.

“Without telling me beforehand?”

Chris’s hands now found their way to his hips, his tongue tracing the inside of his mouth as he tried to compose himself and not make a scene in front of a whole group of strangers.

“You inviting Elena is fine, but me inviting someone, oh, suddenly is not okay?” Chris practically spat his words out. “It’s not about you inviting someone,” Changbin argued back.

“Then what the fuck is it?” Chris hissed out quietly, feeling his temper boil over. He knew Changbin wasn’t very fond of Adriana. It seemed he had been connecting some dots from the cases to her, but every time Chris tried to talk to him about it, he suddenly forgot everything. He didn’t tell him anything about her outbursts either, rightfully so. Adriana had told him to keep it between the two of them, and he was in no position to let her down.

“I don’t think we should be associating with her,” Changbin started, but Chris was quick to cut him off. “Listen. Whatever fantasy you’ve got going on about her in your head, she’s not like that. Don’t you trust me?”

Changbin muttered a low curse under his breath at his friend’s words, but in the end, he sighed. “Fine, whatever.”

The two girls at the front had seemingly stopped their chat and were now looking at the men behind them. They didn’t hear much of the conversation, but hearing some commotion, they couldn’t help but to try and eavesdrop. Chris and Bin shared an awkward laugh while looking at the girls, who were quick to turn back around and continue their talk.

The line seemed to get longer and longer as they made their way closer to the bouncer. Adriana tried to strike up a conversation a couple of times with Changbin, but to no avail. He mostly answered her with very short remarks, sometimes even acting like he didn’t hear her. Adriana couldn’t deny that the way he was acting was turning a few wheels inside her head, but she wasn’t going to bug her mind about it too much and potentially ruin her mood for the whole night. Giving up, she let the three of them chat while she mindlessly scrolled through her phone.

All of a sudden, she felt a hand on her lower back. In usual cases, she would probably freak at that sensation, but now she had grown quite accustomed to it. Trying to hide her smile, she kept her head looking down at her phone in an attempt to avoid looking at the man. “Yes, Chris?”

He leaned into her ear, keeping his hand gently at her lower back. “You look very pretty.”

Not bothering to hide the shy smile anymore, she finally let it out. Blood quickly rushed to her cheeks, completely blowing her cover. The scent of his cologne didn’t help her either. It was a new one, his usual scent now replaced with a mix of wood, vanilla, and tobacco. Adriana had to admit his usual scent brought her peace for some reason, it felt comforting, but now it was like she was seeing him in a whole new light. It wasn’t just the cologne; the velvety button-up he wore hugged his shoulders just right, and the few buttons left undone at his chest made her thoughts fly away to places they hadn’t been before.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” Yeah, he didn’t look too bad. He looked ethereal.

Chris, on the other hand, tried to bite his tongue the best he could. He did notice how her lips curved upwards and how her cheeks suddenly changed color, but most importantly, he noticed how she tried to hide it all. Some form of excitement started bubbling up in the pit of his stomach from the interaction. It seemed like the most basic conversation, just two friends complimenting each other, but he couldn’t help but feel like a little high school boy talking to his crush.

Was that what it was?

Could it really be that he had developed some other feelings for her rather than just platonic love and compassion? There was no way; they didn’t even know each other for that long.

In usual settings, Chris would blame this kind of thinking on alcohol. It usually brought out the side of him that longed for physical and emotional connection, but he hadn’t even had a sip yet.

-

The music was very loud, and the repeated flashing of lights made their movements look like they were in slow motion. Drunk people occupied any free space to move their bodies to the rhythm, while couples found themselves on couches and probably in bathrooms. Despite the long line of people, the four of them managed to find a free spot in the VIP booth, likely thanks to Changbin’s help. It was a small, half-circular row of couches on the bottom floor of the club, accompanied by a glass table in front of each couch. By the looks of it, there were more high-end booths on the upper floors. The dance floor was only a couple of steps away, and most importantly, the bar wasn’t far either. Right after occupying their space, the two men wasted no time bringing over the first round of drinks, whiskey and coke.

“Cheers,” the short boy yelled as the sound of glass clinking could barely be heard over the music. Adriana and Chris both drank their beverages halfway, while the two lovebirds roughly set down their completely empty glasses.

“I see why you two are together,” Adriana joked, and Elena burst into laughter at the remark. Changbin seemed to smile at Adriana’s words, which, to be honest, shocked both Chris and Adriana. With a quick bolt to the bar, Changbin returned in a second with another round of the same alcohol.

“So, you two—” Elena started, taking a small sip before continuing, “How did you meet?”

“Well…” Adriana began while she slowly set her drink on the table, a mischievous smile starting to creep up on her lips. Chris’s eyes, watching her, widened at her words. He knew which of their encounters she was going to choose, and he slowly shook his head at her in defense. 

“I was walking to my shop at like 3 AM, and all of a sudden, I heard someone groan from above me.”

Chris was quick to shoot up in his defense, “I wasn’t groaning; I was wincing in pain.”

“Mhm, okay. Anyways, I looked up and saw some creepy shirtless dude on a balcony.”

“I wasn’t creepy,” Chris interjected.

“You looked creepy under that lighting, or rather because of the lack of it.”

They all cracked up in a chuckle before the other girl spoke up, “Well, in her defense, most men are creepy at night.” Changbin, at her words, shot her a pair of puppy eyes, blinking a few times as she laughed at his action, “Not you, Bin, you’re always creepy.” They all shared a laugh once again.

“No, but seriously. I had a guy from work follow me one night.” Changbin tensed up at the mention of the topic but let her continue. “I literally had to run into a convenience store and talk with the cashier for like twenty minutes for him to get lost somewhere.”

“Did you get home alright?” Adriana chimed in, clearly invested in what Elena was saying, and so was Chris. Changbin seemed like the only one well-introduced to the story. Elena nodded at Adriana’s question, “I got home fine, but I still had some problems at work.”

Chris was quick to speak up, “Please tell me that you reported him.”

“I did, but HR did nothing useful, so I changed job locations. That’s how I got here.”

Even though the topic they were discussing was quite heavy, the setting of the place they were at didn’t let the conversation get too unsettling. Elena was completely fine about sharing her story, and by the way she talked, it seemed like she had gotten over it. It was lighthearted—lighthearted to everyone but Adriana.

Help her.

The familiar ping in her head suddenly came back, although her vision didn’t get blurry this time. Instead, her eyes focused on the drinks on the glass table in front of her. She was clearly zoned out.

She could have ended up like you.

Give her justice.

There it was again. The sudden feeling of doom washed over her as the music that was once the main focus faded away. It was just her and this voice. She wouldn’t let it act out this time. She wouldn’t let it control her. They were just some thoughts anyways, right? If she was aware it was talking to her, she could discard it and maintain consciousness over her body.

Kill him like the rest.

But it was so hard, so tempting. It felt reasonable. It felt right to her at the moment.

No. How could killing anyone be right? And who was the rest?

It’s your job.

To do what? What is the job? Why was it so tempting? Why did it feel familiar?

The rose is with you.

“Adriana?”

The music was back, and the table in front of her came back into sight.

“Hm?”

It was Chris calling her this time, “You okay?” She blinked a couple of times, trying to get used to the quick changing of the lights. Even though he was asking her a normal question, his eyes seemed to be full of something: worry.

It took her a couple of seconds to ground herself again, to be aware of her surroundings.

“Is it…?” His hand was now on her forearm, holding her strongly but not enough to hurt her. She just nodded, her eyes noticing the empty spots on the once-occupied space, “Where did they go?”

“They’re dancing. You’ve been zoned out for quite a bit.”

She took a deep breath before abruptly standing up from the maroon couch and turning to look over at Chris. She took a moment to look at him while his eyes curiously looked up at her, eyebrows raised.

“Let’s go drink.”

-

Half the night passed in what felt like a minute, and the pair couldn’t feel any better. The four of them clinked what was probably the twelfth or thirteenth drink of the night, maybe a little more. The droopy eyes on everyone indicated that the alcohol had done its magic, seemingly washing away all their memories from the start of the night. Hence, the four found themselves dancing together near the bar, their movements syncing with the rhythm of some remixed pop song playing from the speakers.

Changbin and Elena were in their own little world, the mix of the music and alcohol making them feel like they were the only ones in the club. Their bodies moved together, seemingly forgetting about the other two friends they came with, but in their defense, they didn’t care.

Adriana clung to the new drink she got from the bartender, while her free hand found its way to Chris’s shoulder. With a drunken smile, she leaned up to the man in front of her, inching closer to his ear. “Too much PDA in this place,” she slurred out.

“Right,” he returned the same drunken smile as their bodies swayed to the rhythm. “Finish that,” he pointed with his gaze to the new drink she was holding before chugging the rest of his glass. Hand on her waist, he held onto her as he leaned to set down the now empty drink on the counter of the bar, and she followed his action shortly after him.

Her eyebrow raised at him while he took her hand, pulling her in front of him. They pushed through the crowd of people, all moving in their own styles, some not caring about the beat and some just plainly sucking on each other’s faces with no shame. Would sober Adriana find it a bit disgusting? Probably. Did she care at this given moment? Absolutely not. The only thing she cared about was the warmth radiating from the body behind her as it guided her further into the swarm of people. The music quickly changed to another track, and the lights started to flash faster.

Her body suddenly got spun around as his hands stayed holding hers. “Don’t be shy.” He chuckled to her, his body starting to follow the new rhythm. “I should be saying that to you.”

The corners of his eyes creased as he smiled at her. They were both quick to fall into the music, letting control over their bodies go completely free. As much as Chris wanted to, he tried his best to keep a respectful distance from her, but the number of people letting their bodies loose just like them was overwhelming and obviously limited the space he could give her.

Adriana, on the other hand, did not care about a thing. The only thought in her mind was how her arms moved around her, and her body swung to the song. They both soon fell into their own world, much like the pair they came with, who were now out of sight and maybe even out of the club.

Even though he was moving at his own pace, his eyes stayed glued to the girl in front of him, watching her every move. How her dress slid up higher as her hips swung, and how her hair covered her features every now and then. He was aware the alcohol was working, and the only thing he wanted was to be closer to her. He wanted to guide her hips, brush the hair out of her face, feel her moving against him.

After a long moment of dancing, and Chris trying his best not to give in to his urges to press his body against hers, the song changed to a slower, more sensual one. Their movements slowed down, and the lights went back to making the effect of everything going in slow motion. She turned to face him fully, taking his hand and spinning herself around. They both shared a chuckle, their hands refusing to let go of each other. She found herself leaning over to his ear again, and this time, the scent of her perfume mixed with alcohol made him lose it all. “Don’t be shy,” she mocked, and at that same second, both of his hands gripped her waist tightly, making her move to the rhythm he set. In response, he sent her a cocky smile, setting his eyes on hers.

The control she barely had left over her body quickly slipped away, her focus shifting from her moves to his facial features. When the light flashed, it highlighted his lips and how they stayed curved at the ends. At that moment, he felt like the only person on earth to her. The only one who could make her feel right. The only one who could make the nagging feeling of doom leave her mind for even just a second.

She finally felt it was the right moment to let herself fall freely into feeling, to let her guard down, to trust again. After all, he was the one who had peeled the walls down without making her feel threatened.

The song continued, and their bodies inched closer and closer to each other. He was still leading the rhythm, guiding her hips with his hands. Her own hands found their way around his neck, gripping at the hem of his button-up. She shifted her gaze from the buttons left undone up to his collarbones. Noticing her eyes wandering, his Adam's apple jumped as his heart beat quickened, much like the song in the background. He feared he couldn’t hold his urges in anymore; he had already crossed one line by pulling her so close to him. But as her eyes finally settled on his lips, he finally broke under the pressure.

The atmosphere between the two thickened as he cupped her face with one hand, the other settling their movements down. Her eyes closed as he inched closer every second. Closing his eyes, he let himself fully fall into the feeling, pressing his lips onto hers. It took a couple of seconds for her to react, but soon their lips moved in sync. To both of them, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off their shoulders, like they had finally cut the tension that had been building up for so long. It was as if the alcohol they had consumed during the night wasn’t enough anymore, like they needed something stronger—like they needed each other.

-

The door to Christopher’s apartment shut loudly, but neither of them cared even a bit. The only important feeling to them both right now was how they embraced each other, how the heat between them started getting unbearable, and how their soft lips pressed together as if they were made for one another. She quickly tried to get out of her heels, shoving them away with her foot, not caring where they ended up. He cupped her face with his hands as she set down the black purse on a small cabinet near the front door, and in no time, her fingertips found their way to the buttons of his shirt. Their lips moved effortlessly, but the eagerness still lingered in the air. They had both waited for this moment what felt like forever, and now that it finally came, it was like someone glued them together for eternity. Adriana’s fingers slid down the hem of his button-up, passing the few open buttons and finally stopping at the buttoned one. His fingers glided against her rosy cheeks, feeling every bump and crevice in her skin as they moved down to her jaw.

For the whole way to his apartment, their hands hadn’t left each other. Either she was hooked onto his arm, or his hands held her tightly around her waist; they couldn’t bear not to feel each other’s presence. It was like the first kiss released some sort of drug, a drug that made them addicted to the taste. Her fingers finally undid the button she had been fiddling with for some time. Her hands slid on the bare skin of his chest, and his only reaction was to place one hand from her cheek to the back of her head, deepening the kiss as much as he could. That action only made her want to explore his body even more, but as soon as her hands went further, he broke the kiss. Their faces were close, breath heavy as the atmosphere in the room lay thick. His eyes still looked at her, laced with love, but hers had a different kind of spark. Her pupils were barely visible under the lack of light, but the outside street lamp lit up her face enough for him to discern what she was feeling: lust.

“Not tonight,” his sudden soft voice spoke, finally breaking the awful quietness in the apartment. It seemed like not even cars made noise outside anymore. Her eyebrows raised at his words, her body slowly starting to detach from him, but he was quick to pull her right back in by the waist. “Let’s take it slow,” his voice was still barely above a whisper, a small smile creeping up on his lips as he looked down at her. It was a sight to see. He could never have imagined she would be there in his apartment, embraced by his arms and looking up at him with those doe eyes. Maybe he needed to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming.

“And why is that?” A small smirk found its way to her lips as her arms slid around his neck. Her gaze shifted to his hair just as her fingers did, relocating the strands to her liking.

He shrugged. “It’s different this time.”

“How was it before?”

He slowly shook his head, eyes tracing every feature on her face as if he were trying to engrave it in his memory. His lips fully curved into a smile this time. “Not, not like this.” The tone he spoke with seemed quite shy, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why.

Chris did have some failed attempts at love, but deciding to focus on his career, he decided to drop it altogether. He felt like it wasn’t really his calling; the furthest he would go would be a kiss or two, and the girl would nine times out of ten completely drop him. To be honest, he rarely felt anything much for them. He figured over time he was forcing himself into it, probably to fill some kind of void he was not aware of yet, but this time it was so different. This time he actually felt something for someone, and it was quite scary. He did admit to himself he probably did chicken out a little, but it was for the better.

“Okay then,” she returned a smile before nodding, “I’ll follow your pace.”

She could have figured why he was like this. As soon as she touched him further, his body tensed up after being so relaxed for the whole night, and the little stutter he developed confirmed it all. She felt like she might have been a little too eager with everything. It had been a while since she felt this open to an act like that with someone. It was so refreshing, but it’s better not to rush into anything; who knows, maybe her traumas would resurface and ruin the moment.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t kiss you like this.” Her short trail of thoughts got cut off by him returning his hands to cup her face, pulling her in tightly to press his lips onto hers once more, this time softer and with more emotion. It was a quick, sweet kiss, but oh, did it make her legs feel like they didn’t exist anymore. She burst into a giggle as their lips parted, hitting him softly on the shoulder.

“Ow.” He pouted, rubbing the place where her hand hit him. “What was that for?” he joked, the tone still quiet. To his surprise, she didn’t answer, though. She just stood there in front of him, a dumb smile plastered on her face as her eyes never left his for even a second.

The pair found themselves on the soft couch in his apartment, their uncomfortable clothes long gone and replaced with sweatpants and plain t-shirts. His outfit looked a bit big on her, but to him, it just made her look cuter.

“Did you see anything off about Changbin tonight?” the girl asked while her fingers played with the strings of her pants.

“Not really.” He knew what she was hinting at, but he’d rather not get into that conversation right now. It didn’t feel right not telling her, but he was sure it would be worse if he did.

She hummed, nodding her head while her fingers stayed busy with the strings. An awkward silence filled the room for a while, but it was suddenly cut by a phone ringtone.

“Yours?” He quickly bolted to the counter where her purse was situated before she could even register that it was her phone ringing. With a quick move, he unzipped the familiar bag and reached to grab the ringing phone. She made her way over to him as he handed her the phone, but as he did, small purple pieces of what seemed like fabric decorated the floor beneath them.

“It’s Lila, hold on,” she said as she swiped the green button and made her way to the other side of the apartment. Chris stood looking at the ground, the color of what fell barely visible, but it turned a few wheels in his head. He kneeled down to pick up whatever he had made fall from her bag, but as his fingers twirled the pieces, he realized something. It was those rose petals again, the ones that, in a way, connected them, but the ones that existed because of her mother. She probably carried those around in memory of her, so he picked up each petal carefully and set them back in her bag.

Footsteps were heard behind him as he set the last petal down in the bag. “She called to see if I got home safely.” Her eyes fell on the last petal that took its place in her bag.

“I’m sorry, they fell out,” he said apologetically, but in return, he got a quite confused response.

“I didn’t even know those were there.”

-

He mumbled 'good morning's' as he passed through the rows of desks and his coworkers occupying them. The burning sensation in his right hand didn’t matter at the moment; only the hope that the coffee would finally start working it's magic. The weekend had passed in what felt like a second, and the only thing he did was hang out with Adriana. All the work he said he was going to do was left undone, and all the promises to go to sleep earlier were unkept. It was his own fault, though; Adriana had cursed him out multiple times to take some time for himself and get ready for the new weekday, but Chris was a tough cookie to crack. Now that he had finally let himself free, he couldn’t bear to be apart from her. He kept himself in check to not go overboard with anything; it's not like they were official yet, but he just couldn’t keep himself from her. All of a sudden, his curiosity about her had doubled, and with that, his focus on work had lessened. Hence, as soon as Chris sat at his office table, his name was called from his boss’s office.

A curse word slipped under his breath as he took one last sip of his coffee, slid his chair back, and turned to head to the frosty glass doors that were the only thing protecting him from whatever was about to happen.

As the doors opened, Hank sat at his desk, a familiar face sitting across from him. The monitor of his computer was tilted so the other person could scan whatever was showcased on it.

“Good morning,” Chris greeted as both of the men looked up at him.

“Morning, Chris. I’m sure you have encountered Detective Lee before.”

The man stood up from his seat to reach out a hand. “We’ve seen each other around the office,” he said, flashing Chris a smile. “Lee Minho.”

“Christopher Bang.”

The two men greeted each other as Hank turned his monitor back to its place, took a handful of files, and stood up. “Let’s take this to the meeting room to discuss.”

As they exited the office and made their way to the bigger room, Chris felt like a bunch of question marks had spawned above his head and were taunting him. He knew he had forgotten to review at least one thing for work, but trying to remember what it was felt like it was going to give him a headache.

The room they entered was much bigger, with a circular table occupying most of the space. There were a few people already in place, and the screen on the wall was already turned on. They politely greeted all three as they entered the room, Hank taking his place near the computer that controlled the big projector. Chris cleared his throat as he pulled out a chair next to Changbin, nudging him in the side with his elbow.

“What is this about?” he whispered to the man next to him, but Changbin didn’t seem to be in a very good mood today. They hadn’t talked since the night at the club, a couple of texts from Chris asking if he had gotten home alright, but no response from the other.

“The USB,” Changbin replied coldly, his eyes not moving an inch from the screen projector.

“Good morning to everyone once again,” Hank started, turning everyone’s attention to him. “As you all know, we have obtained some CCTV footage that we suspect is related to the four murders that happened during December of last year. I have sent this footage to a couple of you who are more familiar with the case, so I hope you have reviewed it.” The screen changed to the files that represented all of the snippets of the footage. “I have compiled all the important parts here so we can review them together.”

The first video was showcased, nothing out of the ordinary. A dark, snow-covered street was shown, with only a couple of street lamps casting a yellow light on the ground.

“This was approximately 13 minutes after the murder took place. The CCTV footage was captured from a gas station not far from the victim’s home.”

It all seemed peaceful until a figure showed up in the corner of the screen. A woman with long hair and a puffy coat walked on the street, both of her hands occupied with holding two bags of some sort.

“We also have more footage from that night; another camera captured her.” There she was shown again, this time a bit more clearly, but her face was still not visible, only the back of her head. She walked hurriedly with her head down, the bags still in her hand. This part of the street was familiar; Chris himself lived not too far from there.

“The other footage also captured what seemed to be the same woman, ten to fifteen minutes after each of the murders took place. She was captured near the victims’ houses, seemingly walking in the opposite direction.”

“She could be living in the area, though,” the man Chris had met not long ago spoke up.

Hank nodded at the remark, turning to the computer to enter another file. “Of course, this is only a rough take, but we have also found this at all of the crime scenes.”

The slideshow of pictures made the blood running through Christopher’s veins turn cold. The sweet rose petals submerged in blood painted the white screen. The petals he himself had brought to everyone’s attention.

“We have found this at all of the crime scenes, which concludes that the murders are probably connected and calculated. A witness came forward about the woman shown in the footage, I will show you the formal report after we take a look at the rest of the footage.”

[luvly-writer]

XOXO 💋

Ch. 2: She is as beautiful as she is poisonous

-•-

Tim Drake x reader

Fic + Social Media Au

Warnings: Blackmail, she’s a bitch a first, get to know her

Series: Ongoing

Author’s note: Enjoy! Feel free to leave feedback! It is always appreciated <3

Taglist: Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Masterlist:

How difficult Christmas time must be for all of those on the Upper East Side?

"Honestly, Tini, what do you get a woman who practically owns everything? I swear I have no idea what to get my mother for Christmas!" Y/n spoke on the phone as she carried quite a few bags in her arms. Dior, Channel, Yves Saint Laurent, if it's expensive and you can name it, it's there. "And to be even more honestly, I regret going Christmas shopping the same day Bartie is doing groceries. Seriously, I should learn to coordinate with my butler better, balancing all of this is getting preeetty difficult" she complained as she rearranged her bags again. "I didn't take the limo because I wanted some fresh air, you know how I get when it gets too stuffy" she laughed as she began to search for her purse. Because of so, she wasn't able to see the tired young man walking directly towards her. "It's silly, I know but- HEY!" and down she went with all her bags.

Tim had had a rough day. Between waking up to Dick and Jason singing Baby its cold Outside highly off-key just to piss off Bruce for making them patrol on one of the coldest nights of the year without their thermal suits; his secretary forgetting to send him a copy of the agenda for today's meeting causing him to practically have to improvise most of his points; Damian appearing on his office and refusing to leave his chair trying to establish dominance for "his future empire" to which if Tim had a say, he would absolutely not get if he kept on acting like this; and finally, with Steph who insisted they went Christmas shopping today only to ditch him and leave him stranded in the middle of the street with all of their presents with the excuse of having to repaint her closet which only translates to "I'm getting your present so bye bye". He was completely exhausted and the stitches on his shoulder were getting more painful by the hour with the cold. He had decided to get some coffee at a cafe down by Wellington Street and had been too caught on his thoughts to see where he was going.

//THUD//

"Hey!"

Tim's and Y/n's bags, both shopping and personal, simultaneously fell, getting mixed up in the way. Both reached down to catch their stuff as fast as they could.

"Sorry, I was-"

" not paying attention, yes I figured. S, I'll call you later, I have a little situation here. "

Tim was taken aback by the attitude he received from this random stranger...this totally absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous stranger who just so happens to not be a stranger at all. If all of his years being lectured about the hierarchy of the Upper East Side had served correctly, he was standing in front of one of the heiress of the city, Y/n Vanderbilt and she was the most dazzling woman he had ever seen...and just as bothered as she was gorgeous.

"Yeah" he said breathlessly, "that" Could he sound any dumber.

"Yes, That. Ugh! The ONE time I get out without Bartie and this happens. How many of these are yours?" said Y/n without looking up. She hadn't recognized him yet and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. Finally, their eyes met and she raised her delicate eyebrow at him and he swore his heart stopped for a second. "Have we met before?" she asked after taking a good look at him. He sure was handsome as hell. Pale skin, dark hair which was a little bit messy but it suited him, sharp suit and even sharper blue eyes who she swore she had seen before.

"Timothy, Timothy Drake Wayne" he replyed cooly.

"Hmm, a Wayne adoptee and a Drake socialite, Gotham Academy?"

"Yes, but I-"

"-Dropped out, yes. Yes, you did, I remember reading the news. Dropped out to become the CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

"Funny" he laughs out getting up after making sure that all of his stuff was there and then looking up at her. "Can't recognize me but seems to know all my business, miss Vanderbilt." he said snarkly.

"Important enough to know, yet simultaneously not enough to get to actually know" she said with a wolfish smile. Touche.

Y/n checked all her bags and smiled to herself. "Well then, mister Drake Wayne, lovely to meet you. Watch your step next time." She said as she looked at him dead in the eye. "Have a nice day, Timothy."

And she walked away, leaving him dumbfounded watching her go.

"Tim Tim Tim! You will not believe the boots i just got! They are sooooo comfortable and warm for night patrol. My toes were freezing last night....Tim? Hey, what's wrong? You have a dazed look in your eyes?

"I think I just met the love of my life...and shes kind of a bitch." said Tim, making Stephanie laugh and link her arms with his.

"Let's go hide these and you can tell me all about the supposed love of your life."

-•-

Y/n paced around her room trying to see where she would hide her presents. Shopping had helped distract her mind from the matter that had been plaguing her mind these last few days. Most of the bags had been cleared by now and she only had three left. As she cleared her final bag, she noticed something strange. Two files. She takes them out curious to see what these are. "Can't be part of my gifts...hmm...let's see"

She opens the first one and sees it is directed to Red Robin?

"What...?" she whispered to herself. "Ivy's exploits on the newest power plant close to Gotham Central Park make a solid case worth observation. Following up on her latest attacks with the reports of Red Hood and Black Bat, we begin suspecting where her next attack will play out....holy shit" Y/n whispered in amazement. She then looked at the rest of the file. Some red yarn here and there. A mixture of scribbles and computer manuscripts. Folded papers and a lot of red ink.

Then she looked at the next folder, a meeting agenda filled with notes directed to one Tim Drake Wayne..."wait a minute.."

These are directed to the same IP address..with the same handwriting, including the signatures...

"Tim Drake Wayne is Red Robin"Y/n smirked, "I believe I found a solution to my little problem"

Y/N went to get her cellphone quick and marked her driver's number. "Donnie, get the car ready, we have a little visit to make"

------

"Where is it?" Tim searched frantically throughout his apartment. In his work bag, there were two very important files. The first being the final agenda of the meeting he had today with all of the notes he took which he needed right now in order to send it back to his secretary. If she wasn't so busy making googly eyes at him, he wouldn't have to waste time on the job and focus on the case. Speaking off, Tim decided to search for that file and found that it was also missing. "Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw, if Bruce doesn't kill me, Batman will for loosing those two things. Where are those fucking THINGS?" If his apartment was a mess before, it was even worse now.

Thankfully, fate is such a humorous thing.

//kmock, knock, knock//

Close to a breakdown out of frustration, Tim walks towards the door only to be pleasantly surprised by a face that had not left his mind.

"Miss Vanderbilt, what a lovely surprise" said Tim as he opened the door, letting the young girl walk in.

"Yes, just as lovely as this apartment. Are you always this well kept?" She responded with sass. Making Tim chuckle, "No, but i made sure to decorate it like this just in case there was a posibility of a pretty Vanderbilt showing up."

"Funny, that won't last long." She said with a tight smile. "I'm here for business."

"What ever business could you have with a Wayne? Our parents are business partners, so there is not related to networking. You have much more money than all of my family combined, so it isn't that. Status won't be either, you are practically modern day royalty. So, what could it be? What..could..it..be?" he said aproaching her. He may be lacking 48 hours worth of sleep, but the detective in him was up and on high alert. You were picking the skin around your nails and your nose had this adorable twitch that could only mean nervousnes and the look in your eye was cunning with a tinge of desesperation. What could Y/n Vanderbilt want from him?

"I need you to be my fake boyfriend."

Tim had always been proud of being observant and with that, came the ability to not be surprised yet, never in his 22 years of life did he think that he'd have Y/n Vanderbilt, THE Y/n Vanderbilt, asking him to fake date her in HIS apartment.

"What's in it for me?" he asked skeptical of the situation.

"My silence, Robin Boy" she said as she got the two files he had been frantically searching for this entire time and showed them to him. "And don't try to deny it, the handwriting is the same, I had the pleasure of taking DNA samples and they match, and have seen enough videos to be well aware that you have the same body type. Oh and worry not, only i’m aware of this information. Unlike Miss Vale, I do have various PI's on speed dial, and the weight of the Vanderbilt name, so any information out of me will be credible." She said with a pretty smile.

"Pretty, cunning, and poisounus. Who would have throught." He said, not confirming nor denying anything.

"And I am sure Daddy Brucie dearest, would just love finding out one of his little birdlings let the family secret out, wouldn’t he?" she said looking at him dead in the eye.

Tim felt his heart stop. She knew about all of them.

"You have until monday, lover boy. My phone number is written in there. Call me when you have made up your mind and if you accept, make sure you clear up your schedule cause that meeting will take a long time. Kisses" She ended as she handed the files to Tim and saw herself out.

"This is officially THE worst and simultaneously best day ever" He said as he threw himself on the couch.

[hobisstar]

What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader V Last Part

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol. This has been absolutely fun to write for you guys! Im so happy how much love it had gotten over the past month since ive been writing it! I love you all so so much! Enjoy!

Its been about two years since Jungkook decided to let yn go on her own! So far, yn has become the owner of the coffee shop, has opened up plenty of them across Asia and plans to open some in The Untied States.

Life has been looking absolutely beautiful for yn! But heres the thing.

Bodies have been discovered. Fresh bodies. Of course going through what she went through with Jungkook, she feared that this was his doing. That the so called hobby has now reached the news channels. Though it says that the crimes has been in only England, it was still capability of it being Jungkook.

“Yn! Are you even listening? Im telling you Namjoon wants to take you on a date!” Joy, yns now close friend that she has gained from opening the coffee shops.

“Sorry, but i dont think im ready to date. The last guy was for 5 years and it didn’t turn out well in the end.” Yn mumbled looking over at the tv that was on the crime scene of the killings.

But what was showed, made yns blood run cold.

What was at the crime scene was dandelions.

The flowers that Jungkook always used to gift her on days he felt like we did something wrong. He would cut the steam off and just leave the flowers to never be able to grow again.

Was he…back?

It was closing time and of course yn being the owner, she decided that it was her duty to close every single night.

But tonight, she couldnt shake the feeling that she was being watched.

As everyone was leaving she saw a guy with a big hoodie on taking his time to clean up his mess on the table. Putting his crumbs inside a napkin then taking the napkin and closing it tightly then throwing it out.

yn watched from behind the counter taking containers from the counter and putting them on the shelf behind her.

This mysterious guy has been coming in everyday. Same time. She never serves him but she knows Joy does and she hates serving him. ‘His glare, it can kill.’ She would say when describing the eyes of this mysterious man.

While cleaning she saw the guy get up and come up to the counter.

Face mask on and glasses… sun glasses.

Its night time.

Maybe it was a fashion statement. Thats what yn left it as. “ Hi sorry we are about to close soon so im gonna have to ask you to leave..” is what she was aiming to say but once she turned around she saw he just left a napkin with hand writing on it.

She grabbed it and began to read it:

“Hi baby! Oh its been such a long time, oh how i miss you. Our child also misses you. 2 years right? That is let you go? Ah, I remember something. Today is our anniversary! Our now 7 year anniversary. Im picking you up at 11! Be ready!

JJK,”

Yn was at this point shaking. Fear took over her body but was trying to hide it. She wasnt doing such a good job at that. As much as she wanted to call the cops, get him arrested, she knew that those cops had no chance in trying to get Jungkook.

Hed kill them all in the blink of an if he even knew that they talked to yn.

When yn got home she didnt let the fact go that when she got there she obviously saw Jungkooks car right outside her town house.

Mind you this is the 5th time this year she has moved. None of the reasons dealing with Kook but they definitely where personal reasons.

She braced herself, once she goes inside her home, Jungkook will be inside.

She could call the cops and run away from home then go to Jins house.

Actually now that Yn thought about it, what if Jin had something to do with it? He was always to calm for her liking honestly. Why was he always just so calm with him? I mean he explained it yes, hes seen it for so many years but why didnt he at least call the cops? Then again was the cops really gonna help him?

Entering the home, it felt like deja vu. Coming home on anniversary and Jungkook was cooking their favorite shared dish.

Spaghetti! Yn liked it because it was delicious and Jungkook probably like it because it reminded him of blood.

“My love! You are right on time! The Spaghetti is hot and ready to be platted. Get comfortable and come eat”

He didn’t need to turn around for yn to know that it was actually him. He colored his tattoos, became more swoll and also cut his long hair.

Yn didnt change anything or didnt get comfortable since this was all just too much for her.

‘Keep calm and go with his plan, yn.’ Thats all she kept telling herself.

Though what was his plan? Drug her? Kill her?

Well, none of those. He wanted her back. If that meant living in this house with her, then so be it. Jin had Bam so, they’d have plenty of time together.

Finally he sat down with two plates of spaghetti and there he was in all his glory.

He had the cockiest smirk while toying with his now new lip ring before sitting down across from yn.

“ Fucking finally, i have you again.”

[peachyjinx]

The Coffee Date

Relationship: Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Summary: You meet up with your boyfriend Loki after some time away on a mission. Established Dom/sub relationship. No safe words, but assume they have a signal or something. This is pure smut.

Warnings: 18+!! This is filthy, sorry I got carried away. Sort of cockwaming if you squint, public sex, rough bj, throat fucking, cum play. Thirst for Loki's amazing jawline, inspired by this thread.

You thoughtfully look down at your clothing options laid out on your bed. Your eyes glance outside again, seeing the trees swaying with the mild breeze, and the brightly colored leaves swirling around in the air. The autumn season is at its peak, and the colors on the trees pop vibrantly against the bright blue sky. New York is especially gorgeous in the fall, and you love that about living here. 

You decide to choose a very low cut t-shirt with a warm flannel over top, and a pair of your tightest jeans. You smile as you check yourself out in the mirror after changing- you’re sexy without trying too hard. Perfect. 

The cool breeze hits your face as you step out of the tower and make your way to the meeting spot. You walk quickly, eager to see your dark God at the coffee shop you had agreed on for a rendezvous point. You haven't seen Loki in over two weeks, having just arrived back from a tedious mission. As soon as you landed, you immediately texted him. He was out at a meeting with Stark - Loki wouldn’t elaborate- and the two of you agreed to meet as soon as he was done. 

When you weren’t fighting alongside the Avengers during this last mission, you thought about Loki waiting for you.  You had been together for a few months now, and the sex had been intoxicating. The two of you were fully in lust with each other, and every sexual encounter seemed more intense than the last. You quickly discovered that Loki loved dominating you, and that you just can't get enough of it. You loved the freedom of letting Loki take control, bringing you to new realms of ecstasy when you came together. 

Your mind wanders as your legs speedily move you through the crowded streets, and you can feel the heat in your body rising, picturing all of the ways the two of you fucked each other whenever and wherever you could. You no longer feel cold as your mind is consumed with lustful thoughts of your handsome boyfriend and his perfect body on top of yours. 

Your impure daze is broken when you see that you’re close to the coffee shop, and see the tall man standing out front. A huge smile spreads across your face as you see Loki, dressed in a sharp suit with a long coat, looking unnecessarily handsome. 

He sees you and mirrors your smile, and your legs speed walk up to him, as you practically leap into a hug. Your heart races as you wrap your arms around his firm waist, and he wraps his arms around your shoulders. 

“So happy to see you Darling,” he beams down at you from your embrace. Loki pulls you in for a kiss as the two of you stand on the busy sidewalk. The kiss is gentle and slow, full of affection and longing. You feel an urge to climb him like a tree, but instead break the kiss before you escalate things. 

“Hi Loki, I missed you,” you smile up at him, unable to hold back your excitement about seeing him. 

"I have missed you too. Shall we go inside?”, he cordially asks. Nodding, you follow him as he takes you by the hand and into the building. 

“Hey Loki, I’m going to grab us a table. Can you order for us?”, you ask as you see the bustling crowds in the cafe. 

“Of course, and what does my date require?,” Loki coos, while bringing your hand up to his lips, planting a chaste kiss. You feel butterflies in your stomach and notice that people around you are watching, the handsome God having caught their eyes.

“The biggest cafe latte you can get,” you cheerfully reply, then make your way past the line into the lounge. 

Scanning the crowd, which has thinned near the rear of the building, you spot an empty large couch in a back corner and make a break for it, ducking and diving behind people. 

“Aha!” you happily exclaim to yourself, plopping down in the middle of the soft couch, claiming it for you and your boyfriend. Around you are a couple tables, some occupied and some not. It feels like you have the corner to yourself, perfect for you and Loki to catch up. 

As you settle in, you realize the heat in the cafe is on full blast and you feel like you’re going to melt. Removing your coat, you adjust your shirt and top, pulling the t-shirt extra low just for Loki. You smirk to yourself at your subtle way of tantalizing him. He loves it when you wear low cut shirts. 

Loki emerges from the shuffling crowd, coffees in hand. Your eyes are able to take in his tall frame as he walks towards you in long, confident strides. Was he always this tall? You feel so small compared to him, and want nothing more than to leave right now and beg him to fuck you. A wave of heat crashes over you, but you try to ignore it. There will be time for that later. 

“Thanks, Loki,” you watch him as he gracefully removes his coat, neatly folding it over the side of the couch. You’re momentarily distracted by his beauty as he sits next to you. His jawline, as sharp as the daggers he loves to wield, is accented by the dark locks he has pushed behind his ears. The dark blue bespoke suit he wears perfectly contrasts his beautiful pale skin. Your eyes are drawn down his neck, where normally a tie would wrap around. Instead, his crisp white shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and the dark suit and his hair perfectly frame his neck and jawline, showing a glimpse of the perfect body underneath.

 Loki's piercing blue eyes are now fixated on you. They’re different than when he first greeted you. Filled with dark intentions, they slowly rake over your body, and hover on your chest. He looks at your cleavage hungrily, and you feel a rush of slick in between your thighs. Your thighs clench together, feeling flushed under his lewd study of your body. His eyes snap back up to yours, and you can see the arousal that is lingering in them. Loki subtly moves his lower jaw, and you notice a slight flare of his nostrils. You know he's fighting his own lust, you've memorized his tells. A thrill runs through you, knowing he's already bothered. 

Loki sets your drinks on the coffee table, and moves himself closer to you. He reaches forward, cupping your chin and kisses you, and you reciprocate immediately. The kiss starts off slow, gentle. Quietly exploring each other’s mouths, the pressure begins to build. You find yourself moving closer to his body as he begins to run his hand down your thigh. His addictive smell, of warm spices and pine, is putting you under a lustful spell.

Loki’s tongue pushes into your mouth and yours massages his as he intensifies the kiss. His hand wanders down to your ass, pulling you closer to him and you moan into his mouth.Your hands wrap into his soft hair and you gently tug it like he likes, and Loki moans quietly. You find yourself nearly climbing onto Loki’s lap, passion taking over as you continue to express your affection for each other.  Everything around you has disappeared as you continue to wantonly make out.  His cock, hard and ready for you, is now pushing into your thigh, which is sprawled across his lap. You thrust down onto his erection that is strained against his perfect suit. A low growl emanates from deep in Loki’s chest, and you feel an ache of need in your cunt. 

“aHEM,” a gruff gentleman’s voice rings out, directed at you. You pause for a moment and you and Loki break your kiss. Embarrassment creeps in as you realize you and Loki are dry humping each other on a couch in the coffee shop. You turn your head and see the older man staring over his newspaper at the two of you with a scolding look.  

You take a deep breath and attempt to move backwards, to slide back onto the couch to give the two of you space. Strong hands hold you in place, your leg across Loki’s lap as he tuts at you with a sly grin. He moves your free hand to his taut stomach, while your other becomes pinned between your bodies and the couch as Loki shifts.

“Ah ah ah, where do you think you’re going, pet?”, he slowly shakes his head with a disapproving look. His hands are now cupping your ass and thigh, fingers digging in harder. 

“Loki…,” you glance around again and feel a need to make yourself more presentable around the strangers who are sitting near you. He smiles devilishly at your apparent unease with your current arrangement on the couch. 

Loki clears his throat, shifting slightly so his cock pushes up into your thigh,“So I trust that everything on your mission went smoothly?”. His voice is as cool as ever, as if he wasn't using your body to hide his erection from those around you. 

“Uh… yea, it wasn’t too bad, just a Level 5,” you reply nonchalantly. You try to focus on acting as if he wasn’t driving you wild, like the fact that his large cock is hard and weeping with neediness for you. All you want is to climb on top of him while he plunges himself up into your wet cunt. Why is he teasing you like this? It’s torture. 

"But I bet you missed me, didn't you, my pet?", He asks in a low voice, dancing a finger along your thigh. Loki, still casual in his demeanor, has a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and winks at you. He’s a predator, playing with his meal. You have no choice but to sit here at his mercy, not knowing what will happen next.

"Oh yea, of course I did..", you feel your heart race but send him a shy smile and look away. No one around you seems bothered now that you���re not actively making out. A bit of relief washes over you. 

Loki leans forward, his lips ghosting your ear, "Did you touch yourself during your absence? I think not, given the nature of your trip. I bet you're dripping wet and ready for me." He leans back, flashing a knowing smile as he lifts his coffee to his lips. He takes a drink and lets out a quiet satisfied moan. 

A whine escapes your lips as embarrassment washes over you, knowing he’s right, and that he knows how to play with you. The slick between your legs is beginning to soak your panties, and you feel your hips subtly grind into him. Your fingers tighten around his soft dress shirt, beginning to grasp desperately. 

You try to regain your composure and smile back at him, “Maybe,” you shrug casually but you know he knows he’s right. Smug bastard. 

“So who were you and Tony meeting up with?”, you change the subject, trying to prove to Loki he’s not affecting you and failing miserably.

Loki chuckles at your resistance, and reaches a hand into your hair to gently play with it. He smiles at you, knowing he's making you squirm under his touch. 

You remember your coffee and glance down at the table, and Loki follows your gaze. He knows you can’t reach it at this angle without moving off of his lap, but does not hand it to you. His wicked smile widens and he continues the conversation, while you let out an annoyed “hmph”. You know that he would hand you your mug in a gentlemanly fashion, but that he obviously has other plans in mind. But what it is, you don’t know. 

"Well, as usual, Stark was imbecilic in his attempt to gather information. I suggested a more clandestine approach to gathering information, but he thought it would be smart to meet with these financiers in person. Naturally I was correct, and we will have to infiltrate their headquarters at a later date,” Loki summarizes in a slightly annoyed tone.

He sets his coffee back down on the table next to yours, which is cooling off untouched. Confusion and arousal wash over you, not sure why Loki is still holding you in this position, not letting you drink your latte.

He pauses a moment, just looking at you. You watch as Loki's muscular jaw clenches. It is imperceptible by anyone else. But you noticed. The shift in his eyes has now changed to dangerous. You feel the blush in your cheeks as you try to remain calm, and try to continue your conversation. 

"So what did you have to do?," you ask, leaning forward towards him and running your free hand down his stomach, teasing the buttons with your fingers.

Loki leans forward, bringing his lips to your ear, "I want to feel those beautiful lips on my cock this instant. You are going to walk into the bathroom right now, and I will follow in a moment,” Loki demands in his low voice. 

A rush of heat runs through your body, and you feel your stomach drop. 

“What? Are you serious…?”, in a shaky tone.

"It is either that or I fuck you on this couch in front of the shocked faces of these patrons", his voice is darker, and you know he's not playing games anymore. 

Your eyes, wide with surprise, glance at the older gentleman engrossed in his paper, and the young women seating themselves at the table near you. Did they hear him? Would people know?

Doing as he commands, you stand slowly and abandon your boyfriend and latte. Your arm is sore from the awkward position, and your knees feel weak. Your pulse is racing, the anticipation making your arousal almost unbearable. You try to remain casual in your demeanor as you walk towards the restroom. 

As you enter the bathroom, you survey the area. It’s incredibly clean, with art posters on the wall and vanilla potpourri on a small table. You look in the mirror at yourself and primp your hair for just a moment, only to see Loki step in behind you. 

There is a loud click as Loki locks the door and walks over to you, his eyes leering over your body hungrily as he stands behind you. He grabs you around the stomach, pulling you up against him. You feel his firm body and hard erection as it pushes into your ass through both of your layers of clothing and a whimper falls out of your mouth. Your needy eyes scan your handsome partner and you gain a better appreciation of his perfectly tailored suit. He looks as powerful as ever, the jacket hugging his broad shoulders, but tapering at his waist, accentuating his perfect “V” shape. Heat radiates from his body against your back, making you shudder. His sharp cheekbones are accentuated under the bright lights, his features almost cold. 

“I know it has been but a few days, but I have found myself thinking of you while I pleasure myself. Every evening since our separation, bringing myself to completion while thinking of you. How does that make you feel?,” Loki’s dark voice asks as the two of you lock eyes in the mirror. His pupils are large with arousal, and you can just see the thin outline of his blue irises. Loki’s large hands wander your curves, dwarfing your midsection and making you feel small.

“Oh…I…,”your brain goes blank, unable to respond to Loki’s question as your mouth begins to water at the thought of him pleasuring himself. Your hips move instinctively and rub your ass up against his hardened length, letting out a breathy moan.

"I know you missed me as well. Craved my cock, needing every ounce of pleasure I deliver to you. But you will have to wait…" he looks at you with a devilish grin while his hand traces up to your cleavage, roughly grabbing your breast while he slowly thrusts his hips on you from behind again. A moan escapes your lips as you push back onto him. 

"On your knees, now,” he demands, his voice even lower than before.You feel hot all over, his command unleashing a fire in you to please him. Your cunt clenches, and you have a desperate need to have his cock in your mouth, to taste his skin on your tongue. 

“Yes, Sir,” you obey, your voice shaky despite your excitement. Your knees settle on the tile floor as you assume your position, resting your hands on your thighs with your back along the wall. Loki closes in on you, his large frame entrapping you between him and the wall. 

The look on his face is focused, the bright white light of the room reflecting off of his sharp features. He slowly unbuckles his belt and looks down at you with intense eyes, while his skilled fingers slowly unbutton and unzip as you watch. 

 Loki’s hard length pops out, inches from your face and you whine with want. His cock is already dipping with precum and the tip is bright red and flushed. Veins are pulsing with his lust, his need for you. Your hand wraps around the base while you languidly lick up and down the soft shaft, the salty taste of his skin like ambrosia to you. God how you missed him. A hum develops in your throat as you gently lick and suck, kissing and worshiping his cock like he loves.You dance your tongue around the head while you gently cup his balls, and look up at your dark prince. His eyes are still focused on you as you slowly lick and kiss up his length, taking your time. 

"I've had enough of your teasing, now suck on my cock like the whore you are," Loki commands while he grabs the sides of your head forcefully pushing you onto his cock.  He hisses loudly through clenched teeth as he feels the warmth of your mouth envelope him. His hips begin moving, and you moan in satisfaction of the feeling of having his heavy cock thrusting in your mouth.

You relax your jaw to take him further, while Loki entangles his hands in your hair as he pushes his hips further into your mouth.  Your panties are already soaking wet as his dominating presence surrounds you, cock drunk as a haze of lust clouding your senses. Reaching out, your hands move up his thighs, clawing at his pants and steadying yourself on the strong muscles underneath. 

“Oh how I’ve missed this perfect mouth, Pet. My perfect little whore, always ready for me. You need this, don’t you? Need my cock in your mouth, my seed on your tongue,” Loki grunts as he quickens his pace, his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

You draw your eyes up to Loki's face, and you see his lower jaw jut out, exposing his perfectly white teeth as he breathes heavily. His eyebrows are knit together in fierce concentration at getting himself off. 

Tears begin to form in your eyes, and you feel your breath starting to become restricted as his large cock pushes deeper into your throat. You attempt to continue to use your tongue on his length, but his forceful thrusts are overwhelming as he increases his pace.

“Yeesss, take my cock, my Pet, I know you’ve missed it,” growls Loki while his hands tighten their grip on your head.

He groans as he fucks forcefully down your throat, not holding back his feral need. Tears begin streaming down your face, as you try to keep breathing. You gag, not being able to take all of his girth down your throat. Loki removes himself for a moment, pulling your head off of his length. You gasp for air, strings of saliva stretching from your mouth to his engorged cock while you cough and catch your breath. 

Heavily panting above you, Loki only gives you mere seconds to gasp for air before he pushes himself past your swollen lips and into your mouth with a primal grunt. Your head is pushed back, only his hands cushioning you from the hard tiles. Your fingers grip tighter into his thighs while you try to remain still for him. 

Loki reaches a long arm out to brace his palm against the wall behind you, his jacket draping around you and casting a shadow. A loud moan erupts from him and he intensifies his movements and begins to thrust wantonly further into your throat. His black hair forms a curtain around his face as he looks down at you with his pupils blown wide, face contorted in intense pleasure. The muscles in his neck are taught with tension as he clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes, watching his cock disappear into your tight throat. 

The sounds filling the small room are lurid, full of pants and moans and the wet noises of his cock roughly pushing into your throat. You are completely in a submissive haze, loving that he is using you, taking from you what he wants. 

Loki pushes your head further onto his length, so your nose is pushed into his flat stomach covered by his shirt. His short pubic hairs tickle you as Loki pushes himself as far as he can go, rutting desperately into you. Grunts accentuate each thrust, while his grip pulls at your hair, and you feel the burn on your scalp. Your throat makes obscene sounds and you focus on breathing while Loki violates your throat. 

Suddenly his cock is pulled out and your eyes shoot upwards as you sputter and choke. Loki bares his teeth in a feral grimace as he comes with a feral growl, pumping his cock with his hand. Cum shoots onto your bare chest and you feel the warm ropes decorate your collarbone and chest, marking you everywhere with his seed.

Loki groans loudly while he holds his cock and tightly closes his eyes while coming down from his high, continuing to slowly stroke himself. As he stands over you, panting, you can't help but look up in awe at this beautiful God. A sheen of sweat covers his brow, his hair disheveled. A haze of pleasure settles over you as you watch Loki open his eyes and look down at you with affection. You smile up at him- your throat is raw and sore, but you are so thankful to be the one he takes his pleasure from. 

He reaches down, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his cock, making it jump. A low chuckle comes from Loki's throat, "That's my girl," he smirks down at you. 

He puts himself away and reaches a hand out to help you off of the ground. You take his hand, now gentle in touch as you shakily stand up and catch your breath while you wipe the edges of your swollen mouth with your fingers.

You look down at your chest and see that he has come a lot, and your eyes scan the room for something to wipe it off with. As you reach for the paper towels, you see his large hand grab you firmly by the wrist. Your eyes reach his as looks at you with warning, his face stern.

“Loki…”, you begin to ask what he’s doing with your raspy voice, confused by his stopping you.

“You are going to leave my seed on your chest and button up your shirt. I want you to remember who you belong to," Loki instructs you with an even tone while he gently gropes your backside. 

A new wave of heat spreads across your body again at his possessiveness, that he wants physical evidence on you to prove his claim to you.

"Yes, Sir,” you smirk at him, reaching for the flannel top and slowly button up while Loki watches with pride. 

The fabric of the flannel sticks to the cum that is now starting to dry. Cum seeps into your bra, tickling your breasts and makes you squirm. 

“Good girl. Now let us go order new coffees to go, so that I can bring you home and fuck you for the rest of the evening.” Loki swiftly opens the door for you with a roguish smile on his face. 

----

Peachyjinx Masterlist

[thevelria]

It's going to be messy (NSFW/mafia!Gojo x fem!reader)

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Warnings: full of violence, blood, torture angst and death.

Wordcount:2332

Author's note: Thanks to my lovely @ladycheesington for the help <3

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It was supposed to be a simple day. Just a day filled with shopping and having some time alone. You decided to take a break and free your mind from everything. Nowadays things have gotten a bit rough. Gojo seemed tense and anxious, which worried you a lot, but it didn’t matter how many times you tried to make him talk, he turned you down in an instant.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you furrowed your brows. He looked way too off that morning.

“Nothing, really.” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m gonna take a day off.” you changed the subject, getting tired of the obvious lies.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll need some time alone, far from all of this…” you clicked your tongue, finishing your breakfast and getting up from the kitchen table. “I’m not stupid, ‘Toru. I know something’s happening. So I need some distraction.” you shrugged. “I might go shopping.”

“Just be careful, okay?” he stood up and walked to you, gently caging you at the counter. “It’s dangerous outside. I should send someone with you..” he bit his inner cheek.

“No way!” you snapped “I want to be alone. Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen.”

You pecked a quick kiss on his rosie lips before freeing yourself from his embrace. 

The weather wasn’t pleasing that day, slightly raining, even foggy. Autumn arrived with all its benefits and disadvantages. But you didn’t mind it at all. Walking down the street in the middle of the city, wondering where you should start your shopping session. One of your favorite authors had just published their newest book, so you decided to visit a nearby bookstore. 

You wandered around feeling pretty relaxed, placing a bunch of books into your cart before checking out and already daydreaming about getting home later, reading in your special spot at the house.

Gojo had surprised you with a cozy room in the mansion last year, because he knew how much reading meant to you and as always he wanted to make you happy. It looked more like a library with all of your books and manga. A huge window with a wide ledge was your favorite spot to slip into the world of stories. The other corner had a comfy rocking chair with a cute coffee table next to it. Everything was designed and  furnished in your own unique style. It was definitely your safe place. 

As you zoned out, you smiled at the sweet thoughts and did not notice the huge black van pulling over next to you.The loud slam of the opening side door snapped you back to reality. 

“Grab her!” you heard someone yelling, noticing three men in full gear, with masks on their head. 

“What the fuck…” were the only words you were able to press out, before you felt an uncomfortable pain in your neck. The world turned into darkness instantly. 

***

A bucket of ice cold water woke you up. The sudden uncomfortable feeling crawled under your skin, causing you to shoot your eyes wide open, slightly choking on the water that got into your nose. 

“Good morning, princess.” a scary looking guy grinned at you. “Now that you are finally awake, we can talk about business, yeah? We will need some info about your lovely man.”

“You are so going to be fucked up!” you hissed, wanting to raise your hands, when you realized you were tied up in a chair. Thick, wide leather straps held you still, both on your wrists and ankles. 

“Be a good girl. I really don’t want to ruin your pretty face.” he clicked his tongue. 

The first two slaps felt like sharp blades on your skin, you were sure he ripped your lip up. But you were stubborn, focusing on not letting out a single noise. Oh, no, you were not going to give him the pleasure to see you suffer. You gulped hard as you took a deep breath, clenching your jaw, while looking directly into the man’s eyes.

“He’s going to kill you for this.” you spat some blood on the floor.

After receiving some more, even harder hits your head became dizzy and your vision got blurry. 

“Start talking, bitch!” The man got more and more impatient and was becoming annoyed by your attitude. 

“Jeff!” another man walked into the room, sounding frustrated “What can possibly take so long?”

“She’s not talking, Dave.” Jeff rolled his eyes.

“Well, then it seems it’s time for me to force those words out..” he growled, while standing next to a metal trolley cart, picking up some kind of pliers. Fear flashed in your eyes, because you knew…you knew it was going to be messy.

***

“C’mon baby, pick up the phone.” Gojo hummed, while walking back and forth in his office. He had been trying to reach you all day long without any success. After you not answering his call for the 3rd time he knew something was off. 

“Kento.” Gojo rushed into the living room. “I need your help, I think something happened to Y/N.” His voice was filled with fear and desperation.

“What? Why?” he jumped off the couch in an instant.

“I cannot reach her. I tried to call her millions of times, but she didn't pick up. She would never do that!”

“Fuck.” Nanami hissed “Do you think they took her?”

“If anything happens to her…” Gojo clenched his jaw.

“I’m going to gather the boys. We will find her, okay? She’s going to be alright, man. Don’t worry, your woman is a tough one!” Kento tried to keep Satoru from going insane.

***

“Do you think you are smart, huh? Do you think we can’t break you?” Dave gritted his teeth right in front of your face. Touching your cheek with a sharp knife, leaving behind thin lines of cuts. You felt your warm blood running down your jaw, dripping slowly on your chest. “If you expect me to stop at this point… I won’t.” he let out a manic chuckle, stabbing the blade deep into your shoulder right above your collarbone. 

The urge to scream was almost impossible to reject. Tears rolled down your cheek as your whole body started to wobble.

“I can’t wait to see them gut you like a fucking fish.” your words bursted out like poison. 

“Them?” he looked confused.

“Why? Do you really think Satoru would come alone?” you let out a pitying laugh “We are a family, moron… And you took someone you shouldn’t even think of touching.”

Dave felt humiliated and nervous at the same time, but he didn’t want to admit it. So he simply knocked you out with one hard punch.

***

One of Gojo’s informers confirmed your location in a warehouse at the edge of the city. An abandoned area, mostly used by gangsters for business.

“We need to surprise them.” Gojo’s eyes flashed in fury. “We won’t have much time. If we fuck up they will kill her and I cannot let it happen. None of you can let it happen. Understand? Protect her at any cost!”

“Understood!” all the boys answered.

“Everyone’s ready?” Gojo took a frustrated breath.

“Yeah.” Nanami nodded slightly as he got into the car. “Yuuta will come with us. Megumi and Yuji are taking the other car as you asked.”

“Good. Good.” he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. 

Gojo had a theory of you being kidnapped by the Kenzo’s clan. He was almost sure, as he’s just turned down  some dirty business with them. They wanted to spread drugs at Gojo’s territory , but he said no without hesitation. Words followed words and in the end they swore to God he was going to regret his decision. The head of the family promised he would be ruined in every possible way. Satoru didn’t take it too seriously. Big words from a small man, nothing much. But it seemed he unfortunately underestimated them and didn’t pay enough attention to safety. 

During the ride they discussed the plan again and again and again. Satoru took a nervous breath, before pulling over and getting out of the car. All the boys arrived to save you and avenge the fact they were stupid enough to even put their filthy hands on you. 

As they moved in stealth, they peeked  through a small window, seeing you sitting in a chair, tied up. Your head hung low, blood all over your body. One of the fuckers just grabbed your hair, pulling your head up. The second your tortured face flashed Gojo became feral. 

“Fuck” Nanami hissed. 

“We need to go in, right now!” Yuuta’s breathing got heavy.

“Kill all of them, except that motherfucker. He’s mine.” Gojo’s cold voice scared even his men. They knew their boss was ruthless, but couldn’t even imagine what he was capable of, when it was about you. Well, they were about to find out soon. 

You blinked slowly and feebly. After all, you lost a lot of blood and were tortured for hours without any break. The only thing that kept you sane was thinking about him. You knew he was coming for you, you were sure he already knew where he could find you. In that case your only job was to hold on until he arrived. Still you didn’t make any noise and especially not telling them anything. 

Dave became way too angry. “If you don’t start talking then it’ll be for the best to kill you right here, right now. I’m gonna send your fucking head to Gojo. Maybe it will be a beautiful present to that arrogant piece of shit. He thinks he's untouchable. But how will he react, when he sees your pretty face in a fucking cardbox?” 

“Baby, please hurry. Please, please.” you mumbled under your nose.

“What was that?” Dave sat on his heels next to you “What did you say?”

“Fuck you!” you spat some blood right into his face. Dave stood up and was about to punch you once again. But as his hand was high in the air the door of the warehouse exploded. A huge amount of smoke infested the building. Kenzo’s people started to cough and panic.

“I can’t see shit!” Jeff whined, trying to find an exit, but instead he bumped into Nanami, who sliced his throat with one precise slash. Jeff slammed his hands against his neck, before collapsing to the ground, writhing with agony, choking on his own blood. 

Yuuta got around the building and got in after breaking a window. Two fully armored men were standing next to some huge card boxes, babbling in panic.

“Surprise, fuckers.” he hissed, as he reached back and pulled his sword out from its holder. Two men, two swishes. He clicked his tongue casually as he saw two heads rolling away.

Yuuji smashed the head of one of the men so many times into the wall that it became smudgy. Megumi’s manic laugh scared the shit out of his opponent. It didn’t take long for him to execute the begging man. He kept hitting and kicking him long after the guy was gone. 

Gojo made eye contact with you as he walked towards the guy. He asked you to stay quiet by slowly lifting his index finger to his mouth. You nodded slightly, trying to distract Dave.

“Any last words, bitch?” Dave laughed. He was determined to kill you.

“You’re fucked!” A cocky smirk crawled upon your face as Satoru reached the man from behind. 

“Close your eyes baby!” you heard him and for a second you obeyed. Dave’s unbearable scream made you shiver. After you opened your eyes, you froze from the shock of seeing Gojo grabbing the man’s throat, and stabbing a massive knife into his lower stomach. Slowly cutting him all the way up to his chest. As the blade stuck into a bone Satoru clicked his tongue irritated. Raising his leg up, propped his foot on Dave’s pelvis, he kicked the now dead body off of the blade. 

Your bewildered, loud laugh made Gojo snap his face at you. You just kept laughing louder and louder second by second. “Darling?” he ran to you finally, starting to free you from the straps, which dug deep into your flesh. 

“I told him.” tears were running down your face, mixing with the blood from the laughter “I told this fucker that you were going to gut him like a fish!”

Gojo froze in his action, he couldn’t decide whether to hug you, kiss you or be terrified from the thought of what actually happened to you during the hours you were here. 

“I’m so sorry, my love. I am so sorry. It’s all my fault!” he kept babbling while freeing you entirely. 

Even if your mind was clear your body wasn't able to function correctly. So the second you tried to stand up, your legs gave up and you almost collapsed to the ground. Gojo grabbed you, picked you up bridal style and started to walk out. “I didn’t tell them shit, ‘Toru. I kept my mouth shut. Didn’t even let them hear me scream, no matter how much they tortured me.” you smiled weakly, before passing out in his arms.

That was the point where he gave in and started to cry like a child. He didn’t care what the others would think, he let his tears run down his cheek. The guilt in him almost ate him up, an unbearable knot in his stomach, which felt like it was tearing him apart. 

The woman, you, right in his arms risked her own life just to keep his information hidden from an enemy gang. He wanted to scream, yell and rage at the same time. But he also felt something else. That he was going to marry you, because you were the perfect woman for him. And he wanted nothing else, but to call you his pretty, little wife for the rest of his life.