#resident food hall

[redcontemporaryarts]

💥THE OLD LIFEBOAT HOUSE💥 ARTIST IN RESIDENT💥 🌊🙏🏾💫

[rowarn]

MONSTER (m.)

neighbor!simon riley x reader

tags: zombie apocalypse au, neighbors to lovers, afab!reader, no pronouns, hurt/comfort, smut, NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

cw: description of corpses, simon is aggressive towards you, but also very soft!simon, protective!simon, violence, simon does murder someone, lots of kissing, wet&messy sex, multiple orgasms, edging (simon), missionary position, mating press, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, breast play, squirting, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, eye contact, praise, teeny bit talkin u thru it

note: i think that's all the neccessary warnings but if u think smthn else should be added, let me know. please enjoy this MONSTER fic!!!

; you find yourself hiding out in your apartment as the undead begin walking. luckily, you have a well-trained military operative as a neighbor who is more than willing to keep you safe.

16.5k

“Residents are advised to remain in their homes. Authorities are unsure what is causing the severe aggression in people but the military has been called in nationwide. Please stay tuned as more information becomes available.” 

That was the first news broadcast. They reported  people getting sick-- airborne is what they had said. Stay inside, and stay away from other people. 

So you did just that – stayed hidden away in your apartment, glued to your television for every possible news cast that you could get. 

It was only a week later that the whole story had come out. 

The airborne strain is what caused the first swell of infections. Anyone who was susceptible to the infection would have already become sick by now. But those who were infected by the airborne strain turned…feral. They became like wild animals, barely human. Their skin rotted around them while they were still alive. Their brains died but their hearts remained pumping. They were walking corpses that had a vicious hunger for human flesh. 

The bites are what caused the following wave of infections. Something in their saliva turned you into whatever they were. 

You were scared. When you looked outside your window, down just a few floors to the ground, you could see hordes of people stumbling around, shuffling and shambling. 

Sometimes you would hide in your bathroom as the sounds of gunfire filled the city. It was the worst when it was the middle of the night. 

You weren’t equipped to deal with a disaster of this level – humans turning into disease spreading killers. You were having to ration your food, waiting for the day that there would be an announcement that it was safe. 

You wanted it all to be over. 

Then the news broadcasts stopped, cell service dropped, and the populace was left in the dark. 

You kept the lights off in your apartment, scared that the wandering hordes outside would see it and find you.

You had no idea how long you had been hiding in your apartment, spending most nights with your knees to your chest as you watched the static on the TV. You held out hope that the news broadcast would come back, but it never did. You spent the days and nights in mundane monotony, hopelessness settling in. 

The only interruption was a heavy knock on your front door, practically making you jump out of your skin at the sound of it. You hadn’t expected anyone to actually approach your apartment in search of you. It terrified you that anyone could be out there at a time like this.

With wide eyes and trembling hands, you grabbed a kitchen knife off of your counter and tiptoed towards the front door. Peeking through the peep-hole, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

Throwing the door open, you were faced with the familiar balaclava of your neighbor across the hall.

“Simon…” you whispered in relief. 

He wasn’t lunging nor did he have the milky-white eyes of the undead that you had seen on the news. He was normal. 

“What’re you planning to do with that?” he asked, eyeing the kitchen knife still in your hand.

“Oh!” you gasped, quickly placing it on the table by your front door, “Sorry, you– you– startled me when you knocked. Would you like to come in?”

His lidded, brown eyes gaze around your apartment behind you before landing on you again, “You have anyone else in there?”

You blink and slowly shake your head, “No, I’m alone.”

His brows furrow at that, “You’ve been by yourself this whole time?”

You shrug and nod, “What else was I supposed to do? The news reports said to stay inside…”

He hums, “Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine,” you respond quickly, “Why?”

Suddenly there’s a hand on your forehead and you realize he’s checking your temperature. You remain still and allow him to do it before he's shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. 

“Fever’s the first symptom,” he explains, “I’m goin’ door to door to check on everyone.”

“Oh!” you gasp, smiling, “That’s very nice of you, Simon.”

You knew that Simon was in the military. He was often out on long deployments and sometimes he had tasked you with keeping an eye on his apartment since you were right across the hall from him.

He was a nice enough guy, if not a little cold and blunt. He was tall and broad, clearly well built despite the fact that he usually wore a hoodie that hid his biceps from view. You’d gotten glimpses of his tattoos when you had knocked on his door one evening and asked him if he knew anything about water heaters because your hot water had been out for nearly a month in the dead of winter and the apartment manager hadn’t done anything to help you.

Simon had kindly come to your apartment, even though it was nearing midnight, rolled his sleeves up and fixed your problem within the hour. You had baked him cookies as a thank you that following weekend. 

“How is everyone doing..?” you venture to ask, leaning against the doorjamb as a breeze flows into your apartment from the open door.

He casts a glance down the hallway, almost like he’s thinking before sighing, “Few people are sick. They’ve been…” he hesitates for a moment, “Quarantined.”

“Probably for the best,” you respond, “Keep them from hurting anyone when they…turn.”

It feels so surreal to be talking about confining people to keep them from literally eating the healthy people. But it seems that’s where you’re all at now. 

“I’m going to barricade our floor,” he says suddenly, “Keep anyone from comin’ in that’s not supposed to come in.”

“What if we need to leave?” you ask, concerned, “We’re only going to have finite food and resources between us. The power’s also going to go out sooner rather than later, Simon.”

“I know,” he sighs, “But we should stay indoors for as long as possible. When the power runs out and we run out of supplies, we can figure out what to do next,” he explains, “The military was on the ground here last I heard, you’ve heard the gunshots. I don’t believe they’ll last much longer but it’s not wise for us to go out while they’re tryin’ to eliminate as many of these…undead as they can.”

“I guess that makes sense…” you whisper before his words finally settle on you, “What do you mean you don’t think they’ll last much longer..?”

He levels a hard stare at you that makes your heart race in anxiety. Simon was always a serious individual by nature but this is how you imagine he looks when he’s on duty, “Hundreds of thousands of people are sick out there. The airborne strain no doubt got to hundreds of the soldiers meant to be protecting the civilians. Eventually, they’ll eat each other from the inside out –literally.”

“You mean even the military is going to collapse..?” you ask, horrified. You try not to let the tears fill your eyes but Simon’s words fill you with a dreadful sense of hopelessness. 

“Communications are cut,” he says finally, “Radio’s been silent all day. Not sure what’s goin’ on but it’s not good.”

The tears quickly began to fall down your cheeks. Before you could wipe them away, a calloused thumb was doing it. You sniffled and looked up at him.

“I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you confessed softly, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive, Simon.”

“Don’t you worry about that, love,” he whispered, grabbing your chin gently to make you look up at him, “I’ll take care of you, yeah?”

“I don’t want to be a burden…” you explain, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I took care of you,” he joked, though it held little humor, “You won’t be a burden. I’ll teach you what you need to know, alright?”

“You will?” he nods when you look up at him hopefully and you smile, “Thank you, Simon. I don’t really want to die by getting eaten by walking corpses.”

He chuckled under his mask, brown eyes crinkling around the edges a bit, “It is pretty fuckin’ mad, isn’t it?” You laugh, the first genuine smile you’ve cracked since before that first news broadcast, “Why don’t you come across the hall and stay with me, yeah?”

“Is that okay..?” You can’t deny the idea of being with company sounded more appealing than anything. You were definitely beginning to feel the ebbs of loneliness creeping in on you as the days of silence passed. Plus, Simon was…safe, “The news said not to…mingle in case of the disease spreading.”

He scoffed, “Rules like that don’t really apply anymore, love,” he mutters softly, “Plus, neither of us is sick so it’s not like we’ll spread it anyway. I can teach you some knife work and how to use a gun easier if we’re together, yeah?”

“Okay,” you smile, excitement surging in your chest, replacing the painful void of hopelessness you had, “Let me just get some things together and I’ll be right over, okay?”

“Sounds good, love,” you can tell he’s smiling under the mask. He gives you a pat on the shoulder before stepping away, “Just knock when you’re ready.”

You stand in your doorway until he disappears into his apartment. Once you’re alone, you cast a cursory glance around your living room, eyeballing everything you need to take before you dash into your bedroom. From the back of your closet, you grab a duffle bag that you have stowed away in the back of your closet from when you first moved in.

Navigating in the dark of your apartment was a bit of a challenge but you managed to stuff all the essentials into the bag. After slinging it over your shoulder, you step out of your apartment, making sure it was locked before knocking on Simon’s door. 

He opened it quickly, still wearing the same hoodie, jeans, and balaclava as before – his hood still up as well. He stepped aside for you to enter.

Unlike you, his apartment was illuminated by lamps – but his windows were covered with blackout curtains so no light would seep outside. It was pretty plainly decorated, just the essentials and a few photographs on the walls; upon closer inspection it looked like him and, you assumed, his comrades. 

You went to place your bag down but he stopped you, “I cleared out a drawer for you to put your clothes in for the time bein’.”

“Oh…” you gaped at him, surprised to hear that he had done something like that for you, “Thank you, Simon.”

He led you to his bedroom, standing in the hallway while you walked in. His bedroom was darkly decorated, black out curtains on the windows, navy blue sheets and a black comforter on his bed. His furniture was all dark toned as well. 

It suited him, you thought.

There were two drawers open and empty, letting you know that those were yours for the taking. You knelt down and opened your duffle bag, carefully folding and placing your items inside. When you got to your undergarments, you cast a glance towards the door to find that he was no longer standing there. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly filled the top drawer with all of your delicates before closing the drawers and standing up. 

Flicking on the light to his en suite bathroom, you placed your toothbrush and toothpaste alongside his, the sight making you blush before you went to add your belongings into the shower as well. 

Realistically, you knew that the water was going to go out sooner or later but you planned to enjoy it for as long as you possibly could until then. 

When you ventured into the living room, Simon was in the kitchen, the cabinets open as he scanned over all of his belongings.

“Is something wrong..?” you asked softly.

“Thinkin’ of how to ration,” he replied quickly, “Have you got any stuff over at yours still?”

You nod your head, “It’s not much but I have some canned food and like...rice and stuff if you want that.”

“Yeah, it’ll be good to consolidate all our supplies in the long run,” he explained, “You got your keys?”

“Yes!” you pull your keyring from your pocket and drop it into his open palm.

“I’ll be right back love, make yourself at home,” he gave you a gentle nudge towards the couch before leaving you there. 

You took a seat on the couch, realizing just how tired you were. You hadn’t realized how tense you’re been for so long on your own. Now that you were safe and with company, you could almost feel the tension sliding right off of you. You rested your head against the back of the couch and closed your eyes, intending to just rest your eyes and enjoy the peace you felt. 

You were startled awake by the sound of the door slamming shut. You nearly jumped out of your skin, wide eyes finding Simon’s who looked a little sheepish.

“Sorry, love,” he whispered, “Didn’t realize you’d be sleepin’.”

“Didn’t mean to…” you confess, standing up and stretching, watching Simon lug a bag of food into the kitchen.

“Haven’t been sleepin’ well?” he asked, his back to you as he began to stock up the cabinets. 

“Not really…” with a sigh, you lean back against the counter with your arms crossed over your chest, “I’ve been stressed about this whole situation.”

“It is…” he pauses in his words, placing a bag of dried beans into the cabinet, “Nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Society is really collapsing around us, isn’t it?” you bravely ask, although you were scared to hear the answer.

“Yeah, darlin’,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it and that brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

“This is so fucked up,” you cry, burying your face in your hands, “Thank you, Simon. You didn’t have to offer to help me and I really owe you a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he closes the cabinet, the bag he brought finally empty before turning to you, “I’ll make sure you know everything you need to know to survive.”

“I doubt I’ll be as good as you,” you joke, a crooked, wobbly smile on your face. 

He steps forward and cups your chin, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “No one’s as good as me, sweetheart.”

You chuckle softly at his words. 

This is what you needed – someone by your side to keep you sane as society collapsed and everyone that you knew died. 

That night, you slept better than you had in days. Simon had given you his bed, offering to take the couch. You had argued, telling him that you couldn’t take his bed like that. 

“I’m up most nights anyway, love,” he had assured you, “At least someone around here can get a good night’s sleep in that bed.”

When you woke up, fully rested you might add, Simon was already awake, drinking some tea. You sat down beside him, enjoying a nice quiet morning.

“How do you feel about learnin’ some basics today, love?” he asked when he was cleaning his mug. 

“Sure!” you agreed, “I have to warn you though, I really know next to nothing…”

“That’s alright,” he chuckled, waving to you to follow him to the living room, “I’m a good teacher, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you watched as he stood up and went to a closet in the hallway, pulling out an assortment of bags and carriers.

He placed them down beside the couch and took a seat next to you. “I think it’s best if we start with you gettin’ comfortable with the feeling of holding a weapon in your hands,” he explained, pulling out a knife bigger than any you’ve seen, “This is a hunting knife.”

He handed it towards you, his fingers confidently gripping the blade between two fingers. You wrapped your hand around the handle, testing its weight in your hands. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking, holding a weapon in your hands. 

“I know it’s scary,” he assured, “But when you’re comfortable holding knives then you can learn to use them properly to protect yourself.”

“What about guns..?” you find yourself asking, still gripping the knife in your hands, turning it over and adjusting your grip just to desensitize yourself to it. 

“We’ll tackle guns when you get used to knives,” he replied.

“So you have guns?” you ask, letting him pull the hunting knife from your hands.

“Of course I do,” he reaches into a bag by his feet, pulling out a pistol. 

Your eyes go wide as you watch him handle it effortlessly, checking the chamber and moving it around in his hands like it wasn’t a dangerous weapon.

“When you’re ready, I’ll teach you to properly use one so you can use it in case of an emergency,” he explained, placing the pistol on the table carefully.

“I’m going to have to kill other people…” you mutter to yourself.

Simon pulled out another knife, passing it into your hands, “Combat knife,” he supplied simply, “And you’ll have to kill them but…I don’t think they’re people anymore, love.”

“I guess that’s true…” you mutter, holding the knife with a firm grip, “I’ve only seen them on the news before it stopped broadcasting. What about you?”

“Haven’t seen ‘em in person either,” he replies with a shrug, “Some of my…teammates,” the words seem awkward coming from his mouth but he continued, “Were givin’ me some information before they went radio silent.”

“What happened to them?” you couldn’t help but ask.

A brief flash of sadness flashed over his eyes but he quickly sobered up, leaning back against the couch with a sigh, “Not a clue. I guess there’s no way for me to know. I just know it was getting bad. Dangerous.”

“I’m sorry about your teammates,” was all you could find in supply of an answer.

Simon didn’t respond, simply letting his gaze fall back on the knife, “Let me show you some handling techniques for you to practice.”

Realizing that he didn’t want to talk about the world outside anymore, you let him lead you through a crash course on knife handling and knife safety. He took the time to teach you the different kinds of knives in his possession and you nodded along as best you could but if you’re being honest – it was primarily lost on you.

You’re not sure if Simon knew that but he seemed to enjoy teaching you, so you let him ramble on to his heart’s content. 

By the end of the day, you were confident enough in at least not accidentally cutting yourself on the sharp blades. 

In order to repay him, you made dinner for the both of you – though, really, it was just some heated up canned soup-- and did the dishes for him so he didn’t have to.

By the end of the night, you both found yourselves on the couch, watching a movie he had put on. With there being no way to watch anything else, you were grateful he had a collection of movies to his name – you simply streamed your favorite shows and movies and called it a day. 

It ticked late into the night and before you knew it, you were falling asleep on the couch, leaned against his shoulder. You could feel him shift and knew you should open your eyes, but the tugs of sleep at the edges of your subconscious kept you from doing so. Suddenly, you felt the soft beat of his heart against your ear and the heavy weight of his arm laid across you. You briefly registered that you were now wrapped in his arms before the final tug of sleep pulled you under.

When you woke up, you were in bed. 

And Simon wasn’t in the apartment. 

“Simon..?” you called, looking around everywhere for him – to no avail. 

You ventured to the door, carefully pulling it open and stepping out. You looked down the hall towards the stairwell before you heard a grunt of effort from the other end. 

“Simon!” you called, making him look up.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, pausing in his task of pushing a large bookcase towards the elevator. 

“You weren’t inside…” you mutter, wandering down the hall towards him, “What’re you doing?”

“Barricading this elevator,” he replied, giving the heavy object another push with a grunt of effort. 

“Oh, right, you mentioned you wanted to do that,” you mumbled, taking a moment to look over him.

He wasn’t wearing his hoodie for once, instead wearing a tight black t-shirt that was sticking to his skin with sweat. He wore his jeans with a holster and gun on his hip as well. 

“Do you need any help?” you asked but he shook his head.

“No, you can’t help with this, love,” he grunted, giving the bookcase one final, heavy push before it was flush against the elevator doors. 

It was then that you noticed the straps nailed to the wall. He took them and secured them to the other side of the elevators, making sure the bookcase was fastened firmly. 

“Enough people push this and it’ll come down but at least it’s secure enough,” he explained, giving his work a final once over.

“Do you know where the others are?” you find yourself asking as he makes his way to the other end of the hallway

He pauses at that, seemingly thinking of his next words carefully, “I checked door to door. Most of our neighbors got the hell out to go see their families when everything went to shit. A few…were sick and turned in their apartments so I had to…put them down.”

You cringed at his wording, you knew he was trying to phrase it delicately for you but you weren’t sure if you would have preferred him to just say he killed them. ‘Put them down’ made it sound like they were rabid dogs and not people you once knew and smiled at in the halls. 

“Found some notes in some of them,” Simon said suddenly, waving you to follow him back to the apartment – to safety, “Guess we can only hope they made it to their families in one piece.”

“I hope so,” you muttered optimistically, slipping past him when he opened the front door for you.

You quickly realize how difficult it is to tell how much time is passing with Simon’s blackout curtains, which he refused to allow you to open for fear of attracting any unwanted attention. With there being no more news broadcasts or anything on TV, you didn’t even know the date anymore and you were too scared to ask for fear of knowing how long you’ve been living like this. Your food rations were slowly dwindling but neither of you talked about it. 

You know you’re still waking up in the mornings and sleeping at night – Simon seems to run on an extremely specific schedule. When you asked him about it, he told you it was from the military, which made sense. Either way, you were grateful to him for helping you keep on track.

The water and power were both still on, but Simon kept telling you not to keep your hopes up about it lasting long. 

You spent your days learning knife etiquette and practicing stabbing various targets that Simon made for you. You’ve grown much more confident. Of course, you would be no match for your teacher himself but against a bumbling walking corpse? You were sure you would be able to at least buy yourself time to escape if you needed. 

Eventually, Simon decided it was time to move onto what you were most scared of – guns. 

“I’m going to tell you a few things before I let you hold this,” he said, eyes hardened to show how serious he was as he held a pistol in his hands, “Are you paying attention?”

“Of course,” you breathe, wringing your hands in front of you as you eye the weapon.

“You can’t be scared of your weapons,” he advises, “You need to be confident and sure with every movement you make. It’s not a toy.”

“Hard not to be scared of it…” you confess, “What if I hurt someone with it or…I don’t know.”

“That’s why I’m teaching you all this,” he says, “You’ll get confident and less scared the more you handle them. We’re startin’ you off simple and you can build up to bigger and badder guns. For now…pistols will do.”

“Okay,” you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Tell me what I need to know.”

“That’s the spirit,” he praises, holding the pistol up for you to see how he grips it, “First, never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re going to shoot. Just rest your finger on the side like this, see,” he turns his hand and lets you see the way he keeps his finger hovering beside the trigger rather than on it. 

You nod your head, “Got it.”

“Take it,” he says, “Carefully.”

You stare at the offered weapon for just a moment before you reach out and delicately take it from his hands, “Next, never point it at anyone you don’t intend to shoot. Whether it’s loaded or not, keep it pointed away from people and yourself.”

You mimic his grip, grimacing when you realize it's actually much heavier than you thought it would be. It was definitely going to take practice before you built up the ability to hold it for long periods. You follow his instructions and keep it pointed to the ground – albeit awkwardly.

“Here,” he suddenly steps behind you.

You feel your heart catch in your chest when you feel him press against your back. He’s incredibly warm and firm as you lean against him. He carefully takes your hands in his, supporting your hands and holding the gun eye level.

“Just practice lining up your sight and lookin at a target,” he says.

His face is so close to yours, his voice right in your ear, deep and gravelly with that heavy accent. You struggle to process his words, hoping to god he doesn’t hear how fast your heart has started racing.

You close one eye and focus on aiming at a photo on his wall, a small picture frame. His large, gloved hands dwarf your own and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him. He smells like cigarettes and the body wash you may have taken a quick whiff of when you used his shower for the first time. You find yourself wondering when he has time to smoke since you’ve never actually seen him do it. 

Your mind is blank beyond anything other than him. How big and warm he is, how safe you feel with him wrapped around you, how good he smells and how much you love his voice as he utters tips and commands into your ear – sickly sweet in that way he always seems to talk to you. 

If you focused too much on it, you’d slowly come to the realization that you may have a crush on him. But you quickly dash that thought from your head and focus back on his gun lesson as he teaches you how to eject a magazine with ease. 

This is about survival. Neither of you have time to dwell on a silly crush. 

A few days later, you’re standing in the eerie hallway with him. He had offered for you to just stay in the apartment and relax while he did the work but you honestly didn’t want to be alone so you opted to sit with him as he worked.

Your back was against the wall, sipping a cup of instant coffee you had made. Simon was silent as he worked on barricading the door to the stairwell. You both agreed that it was best if it was still accessible just in case something happened, but you didn’t want any unnecessary visitors making their way into the safe little haven you’ve both made for yourselves.

“We should think about looting the empty apartments,” you said suddenly, trying to keep your eyes off of his bulging biceps as he yanked on a strap that was attached to the doorknob to keep the door from being opened. 

“That’s a good idea,” he grunted, stepping back to admire his handiwork when he finally finished testing its durability, “Let’s do it.”

He offered his hand and you smiled, taking it and letting him pull you to your feet. You brushed off imaginary dust in an effort to hide how flustered just holding his hand for that brief second made you. 

You started at the other end of the hallway from your shared apartment. Simon displayed a disturbing aptitude for opening up very locked doors. You chose not to comment on it, instead silently being thankful that he was able to do it at all. 

“How about we make a loot pile in the hallway so we can bring it all inside when we’re ready?” you suggest.

“Alright,” he responds, eyes scanning over the cabinets in the kitchen, “Food is our main priority but it wouldn’t hurt to have some medical supplies.”

You agreed and started helping him pick things out, filling your arms full of canned goods and pill bottles which you then deposited in the hallway by your apartment. 

The two of you made it through a handful of apartments, securing a nice resource pile for the two of you. You were feeling good, hopeful, as you stared at your future right there in the silent hallway.

It wasn’t until you opened one in particular— it belonged to a shy, college kid, you remember— that it seems everything changes for you. He couldn’t have been but 18, away from home for the first time and living in his first apartment on his own. 

Simon is busy looting the kitchen, you can hear him placing cans on the counter, consolidating whatever it is he chooses to bring with him. You check the bedroom, looking through the drawers and pocketing a bottle of aspirin and nausea medication before you move to the bathroom. 

The second you push open the door, you’re met with the force of another person shoving into you. You cry out as you hit the ground, the person falling on top of you. You panic and scramble out from under them, their coughing and wheezing forcing you to look at them. 

It’s the kid who lives there. He’s deathly pale, dark circles under his eyes which are bloodshot. His lips are crusty and dry, seemingly struggling with finding something to say.

“Pl-” he starts to whisper before you see movement in the corner of your eye.

“Simon, wait!” you cry when you see the knife.

But it’s too late, the hunting knife you had held with your own two hands more times than you could count, is embedded in the kids skull, spraying blood all over you. All you can do is make a pathetic squeak, fear and panic rendering you unable to say anything as you watch his now lifeless body flop onto the ground beside you, his still warm blood soaking into your clothes as it runs out of the gaping hole in his head.

“The fuck were you thinkin’?!” Simon suddenly shouts, storming over to you and yanking you to your feet roughly.

You stumble up, bumping into him as you stare at the dead body on the floor, “He..He was alive…I…”

“He was sick!” Simon snarls, roughly wrapping his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him. There was a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, making you cower, “You’re lucky he didn’t bite you! Fuckin’ hell, are you stupid?!”

“H-He was talking, he was just sick, Simon!” you argued, tears filling  your eyes as you stared up at him, “W-We could have given him medicine, could have–”

“He was a dead man walking,” he shouts, the volume making you flinch, “He was going to turn. Are you a fuckin’ idiot? Thinkin’ we could save him?”

The tears you were holding fell down your cheeks at his cruel words and you glared up at him, “I-I’m not stupid, I just…h-he talked to me!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Simon’s eyes narrow, “He was a threat. A liability. Don’t fuckin’ worry about him, worry about yourself.”

He releases you with a rough shove, taking out some of his anger on you. He continues to glare at you for a long minute before turning his back on you and stalking out of the room, muttering about how stupid it was that you could have killed yourself over some random kid. 

Your eyes fall on said kid, no more blood coming from the wound, simply coagulating on the floor around him, “Y-You’re a monster.”

The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, quiet and shaky. But Simon hears them clear, freezing on the other side of the doorway, in the hall. 

“I’m a monster..?” he asks, voice suddenly eerily calm. He turns around, his large body taking up an obscene amount of the doorway. You can tell he’s intentionally trying to intimidate you, a punishment that makes your cheeks heat up in anger, “I’ve been breakin’ my back to keep your stupid ass alive and I’m a monster? Because I put down some fucker that was gonna turn rabid in a day?” he glares at you, squinting through the mask and drawing his dark eyebrows together, “You think it’s easy for me? I’m doin’ everything I can to keep you safe!” he shouts so loud that your ears ring and you flinch from the sound alone, “But if you can’t appreciate that then maybe you should be on your fuckin’ own and see how long it takes before you’re ripped apart by those feral bastards!”

He storms off at that, loudly slamming the front door, indicating his final exit from the apartment. You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks only for more to replace them and you sniffle, casting a sorrowful glance at the dead kid before creeping out of the apartment yourself.

Simon is nowhere in the hall but the supplies you both gathered are still there. 

You carefully open the door to Simon’s apartment and peek inside, finding it completely silent and still. You’re not sure where he went but you decide to busy yourself with loading all your looted items into the kitchen and sorting them all for when he returns.

You’re not sure how long you take to finish but Simon still isn’t back and you become worried.

He had said you should be on your own but surely he didn’t actually just leave the building, did he?

You wander over to his supplies and find a handful of his weapons gone. Your heart shoots into your throat and more tears prick at your eyes before you’re dashing out of the apartment once again.

The door to the stairwell is no longer held shut, indicating that Simon had, in fact, gone that way. You curse yourself. If you had checked sooner then he would have at least been somewhere close but if he really left, he would be long out of the building by now. 

You creep towards the door and slowly push it open. You hadn’t even left the floor since before this whole thing started. It was eerily quiet, but if you listened close you could hear some muffled shuffling from somewhere. 

You crept out, quickly realizing how dark it was. You pulled out your keychain which held a tiny flashlight that you used to navigate when it was dark in the apartment. 

You crept down the stairs, holding your breath with every step until you finally reached the floor below you. You can hear muffled sounds from beyond the door and slowly push it open, flashing the light down the hallway. 

It's too small and weak to penetrate the stifling darkness. The power was not on on this floor for some reason and that immediately set you on edge. You could still hear some shuffling and strange, raspy noises from within the darkness. 

“Simon..?” you call into the impenetrable, oppressive darkness. The noises stop for a moment and you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Simon?” you call again, louder.

The noises return, shuffling, heavy footsteps advance on you. You strain your eyes to see past the weak illumination that your flashlight provides. You’re breathing heavily, you realize, anxiety making your lungs feel constricted as the footsteps get closer and closer.

All of the sudden, a disgusting, rotted face appears in your sights, arms outstretched towards you. You scream out in unbridled terror as it grabs you, its bony, sickening fingers latching onto your shoulders. You attempt to push it away and run but you trip over your own two feet in your panic. Your flashlight flies out of sight, its dim illumination casting down the hallway, leaving you to push at the undead corpse as it collapses on top of you. Its weight is more than you thought it would be, leaving your arms trembling as you struggle to keep it from falling on top of you. It fights your resistance and chomps its disgusting teeth at your face, attempting to get a bite out of your flesh. 

It reeks, you realize, like the smell of a dead animal you pass by on the street. It makes your stomach turn and you fear you’re going to throw up from the smell alone. The rotting skin of its chest slips and pulls away from the bone and muscle and you gag, tears coming to your eyes as you realize the very real and terrifying danger you’re in.

You have no way to get out of this. 

As you look down the hall, where the light barely pierced the inky depths, you can see more figures emerging from further down the hall, shuffling and rasping in interest at your fight with the one on top of you.

Tears fall down your temples and a sob bursts from your chest as you slowly come to terms that this is how you’re going to die. You can’t hold the sheer weight of the undead above you for much longer.

“S-Simon…” you call out, weak and strained. You know even if he’s nearby he won’t hear you. You have to try harder, get your voice out, shout for him. You swallow around your tears and panic, taking a full breath before shouting, “Simon! Please! Simon, help me!”

You don’t even register the door opening behind you. But you do notice when the weight of the corpse is gone, a knife stabbing into its skull before a large hand grabs you by the back of the shirt and drags you back into the stairwell. The undead follow after you, slamming themselves against the door as soon as it slams closed. 

You’re trembling and unable to blink or breathe as the shock of what just happened washes over you. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Simon all but screams, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, dragging you onto unsteady feet that can’t hold you up before slamming you against the wall. You can still hear those zombies slamming against the door. Your ears are ringing and you barely register Simon shouting at you. 

He shakes you and it finally draws your attention to him. His eyes are wide, irises darting back and forth over your face. He doesn’t look nearly as angry as you would expect. Instead he looks…concerned. Scared.

“Simon…” you whisper, the tears not stopping as they fall down your cheeks. He’s the only thing holding you up right now, hands balled in the material of your shirt, keeping you pinned to the wall, “I-I was…I was looking for you…”

He’s panting, shoulders rising and falling as he struggles to compose himself, “Lookin’ for me?”

“Y-You said you were leaving and I…” you whimper, “I-I didn’t want you to go so…I went to find you…I didn’t think that…”

You see his jaw tense through his mask before he slowly lets go of your shirt. Your knees tremble under your own weight and your hands find purchase against his chest.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he mutters, stepping away from you with a heavy sigh, “Just don’t…do that again, got it?”

You nod your head, sniffling as you feel your tears slowly come to a stop, “Th-Thank you, Simon…for saving me…”

“Yeah,” he grunts, turning his back to you, storming back up the stairs to your floor. 

You unsteadily follow behind him, still a shaky and anxious mess. When you get into the apartment, Simon is in the kitchen, barely sparing you a glance.

“Go take a shower,” he orders you.

You linger in the doorway for a moment, hoping that he’ll look at you even for a second. But he doesn’t and you hang your head, skulking off to take your shower with a heavy heart. 

The night rolls around and Simon hasn’t said a word, putting you more on edge with each passing minute. He sits, manspreading on the couch with a glass of Kentucky bourbon in a glass, sipping on it and watching some old movie that he put on play. Usually, he asks you if you’d like to watch with him, but this time he didn’t and that just makes your heart ache even more. 

“Simon…” you venture to ask, casting a glance at him. His hard gaze doesn’t move from the TV, “I-I want to apologize–”

“For what?” he asks, the first words he’s spoken to you in hours. They’re cold and make you wince.

“F-For what I said…” you mutter, tucking your legs underneath you as you turn to look at him, “I…I was mean. I know you’re doing all you can for me and it wasn’t fair of me to get angry at you…I was just…startled, I guess.”

“You were naive,” he snaps, finally looking at you with a harsh glare, “You had no fuckin’ idea what those monsters were and you almost got yourself killed because of it.”

“Y-You’re right…” you whisper, feeling the tears pricking your eyes for the millionth time that day, “I’m sorry, Simon.”

He doesn’t respond, simply throwing back his glass of bourbon, downing it all before he stands up, “Sleep on the couch.”

The last thing you hear from him is his bedroom door slamming shut. You lay down that night, quietly crying into the pillow until you finally fell back asleep.

“Wake up!” a barking voice is what draws you out of your slumber. 

Still shaken up from yesterday’s previous events, you sit straight up, wild, fearful eyes looking around before your gaze falls upon Simon. He stands in front of the couch, dressed in full tactical gear. Even his balaclava is different, with a hard plate in the shape of a skull covering the front. He looks intimidating.

“Wh-What’re you doing?” you ask, turning yourself so your feet are on the floor. 

“We’re trainin’, get up,” he commands and you have no choice but to follow.

You find yourself following him out of the apartment and into the dimly lit hallway. It’s eerily quiet as always and you feel more intimidated than ever standing before him in nothing but some flimsy pajamas while he wears full gear. Even his gaze is different through that skull mask, hard and cold, looking down at you like you’re insignificant. 

It’s so different from before. He was so kind and patient with you before and you can tell that now he’s going to really train you. 

“What’re we doing today..?” you timidly ask, wringing your hands in front of yourself.

“Escaping,” he responds.

“Escaping?” you parrot back dumbly. 

His glare narrows down at you, “You’re going to try to get away from me and make it towards that exit.”

He points to the other end of the hallway, to the stairwell. You glance up at him, where he stands between you and your exit. 

“Okay…” you lick your lips nervously, “Do you want me to just run past you?”

“For now,” he drawls. He sounds almost bored, hands wrapped around the straps of his tactical vest.

You take a deep breath and attempt to bolt past him but his reflexes are frighteningly fast. His arm shoots out before you even realize it, catching you around your middle and halting you immediately. 

The air is punched out of your lungs from the force of his arms and you stumble back with a groan. 

“You’re goin’ to have to do better than that,” he says, looking down his nose at you like you had offended him with your poor attempt. 

You brace yourself again and attempt to run past him. This time, you attempt to fake him out and run in the other direction but it ends the same with his arm grappling around your middle and you still not any closer to the exit.

“Again!” he barks and you can’t help but wonder if this was how he was when he was training recruits in the military. 

You try again and again to run past him, duck under his arm, avoid his reach – everything to no avail. After several attempts, you’re left panting and frustrated. Simon is still as cool as a cucumber, staring at you in pure boredom as he awaits your next move. 

You run again, making rough contact with his arm once again. But this time you start fighting against his hold. You push with all your might, shoving at his arm and his side in an attempt to slip past him. 

“There you go,” he says, though it sounds more condescending than proud, “Fight me.”

You slam your fist down over his arm, successfully knocking it out of the way and giving you a chance to bolt past him. You have a clear view of the stairwell door and you can almost taste the success. 

But you’re stopped suddenly when a rough hand grabs the back of your shirt. You cry out in shock when he yanks you back towards him, carelessly tossing you to the floor. You hit the rough carpet harshly, the coarse material skinning your hands and knees and you cry out at the pain.

“Simon!” you chastise him, glaring up at him when he comes to stand in front of you, “That fucking hurt!”

“Oh, it hurt?” he sneers, squatting beside you, behemoth form still dwarfing your own as he gets down on your level, “It’s not supposed to feel good. This is training. You’re supposed to try and survive, not whine and cry because you fell on the floor.”

You sit on your burning knees and glare at him. He glares back at you, neither of you backing down. 

“Get up,” he commands, standing up, “Go again.”

By the time he allowed the training to be called off, your body was sore and bruised from the amount of times you’d been thrown to the floor. Your knees burn and ache from where the skin had been rubbed off and you fight back tears as you watch the dried blood crust on your skin. 

Simon is no more rough for wear than he was before – all your hitting, kicking, pushing, and biting hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. He wasn’t even winded. 

Worse more, you hadn’t made it anywhere near the door. 

You weren’t sure how Simon felt about it. If he was mad or disappointed, he didn’t say. As soon as you got into the apartment, he went about making dinner after ordering you to wash up. 

When you got out of the shower, he tossed a first aid kit to you and silently sat down in the kitchen to eat. 

Usually, you would sit with him but you found yourself deciding to eat on the couch by yourself. A sense of loneliness settled upon you that you hadn’t felt since before you had moved into this apartment with him and you find yourself hiding your tears in your food. 

Once again, you’re sleeping on the couch. You wouldn’t have minded it if it didn’t feel so much like a punishment. You felt like a dog banished to sleep in the dog house and you can’t help but curl in on yourself at the cold, empty feeling that it causes. 

The next morning follows much the same with Simon startling you awake with a barked order. Your body aches and your wounds sting with every movement you make as you drag yourself behind him to the hallway.

“Do we have to do this again today, Simon?” you ask hopelessly, “I’m really tired…”

“Do you think those undead freaks are going to care if you’re tired?” he snaps at you, arms crossed, making him appear even bigger than he already was, “You’re goin’ to learn how to escape from holds.”

“Simon…” you start to complain but a sharp look from him has the words dying on your tongue and you hand your head in defeat. 

He’s no more gentle than he was yesterday with you, rough grips and manhandling you around to fit his needs. He barks in your ear, ordering what you need to do and when to break various holds that he has on your body. 

He feels so much stronger and more powerful than those zombies had. At least they were mindless and slow. Simon was fast and smart. 

“Put your hand under mine to break the hold!” he shouts, clearly frustrated the more you fuck up breaking his holds. 

“Not like that! Are you daft?” he grits through clenched teeth, “You’re goin’ to fuckin wind up dead if you keep this up!”

You feel your heart rate speed up and you find yourself almost panicking under his completely oppressive energy. His shouting only sets you more on edge and the tears begin to prick at your eyes once again. 

“None of those fuckin’ tears,” he snarls, tightening his hold on you when you squirm and attempt to rid his body weight off of yours, “Do what I told you! You can break the hold if you just fuckin’ focus!”

“Simon, I-I don’t want to do this anymore!” you cry, the tears tumbling down your cheeks as you cry out the words. Your cheeks feel hot and you can barely catch your breath as you weakly punch at his chest.

“There’s no tappin’ out,” he snaps, tightening his grip on you even more. Your body aches where he holds and you know you’re going to be feeling those bruises for days to come. 

“Simon!” you practically screech, freeing one hand and harshly slamming your fist down over the hard faceplate. 

It seems to startle him enough into loosening his hold and you manage to kick back away from him in your panic, foot hitting him square in the chest in an effort to propel yourself away – putting as much distance as fast as you can between the two of you.

“Simon…” you whimper, voice wobbling, “I am not one of your soldiers. You need to stop trying to train me like I am!”

You watch him adjust his jaw through his mask before he pops his neck. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you and every hair on your body stands up in pure fear. 

He’s on top of you before you even have the chance to say another word. You cry out when the force of his body forces you back and your head cracks harshly against the floor. Your vision blacks out from the force and you groan in pain but he doesn’t stop, a rough forearm pinning against your throat, cutting off your air.

“That was good,” he says, voice cold and devoid of any emotion, “You managed to escape, now do it again!”

Your hands push weakly against him, but you’re worn out and your head is starting to hurt like hell. You open your mouth to say something but his hold on your throat ceases any words from escaping. 

You reach up to his face and his cold gaze narrows at you, “You already tried that. It won’t work again.”

But instead of hitting him, your fingers wrap around the face plate and you attempt to push it off – hoping that it’ll obscure his vision enough but he shakes you off with ease. 

He catches your gaze and what he sees gives him pause. Wide, teary eyes, red rimmed and filled to the brim with fear. Tears wet your cheeks and he finally notices the way your entire body is tense and trembling beneath him. 

“P-Please,” you finally find your voice when his weight eases a bit off of your throat, “I-I don’t want to do this anymore, Simon, please.”

That has his own eyes widening and you take his slackened hold as an opportunity to run away. He watches you scramble up from your spot on the floor and stumble back to the apartment, disappearing within with a slam that makes him flinch. He looks down at his own hands and finds that he can’t conjure up any thoughts that aren’t about you.

You hear him enter the apartment, his heavy footfalls pacing around the living room. You’re hiding in the bathroom, leaning against the door with your knees against your chest to muffle your cries. 

He enters the bedroom and pauses, no doubt looking for you before he approaches the bathroom and you feel a brief ping of fear that he’s going to open the door but instead he softly knocks. 

“Will you come out so we can talk?” he asks, voice holding none of the cold, harshness that it had for the last few days. 

“G-Go away, Simon,” you sniffle.

You can hear him sigh before he follows your request and steps away from the door. You can hear him linger in the bedroom for several more minutes, kicking his boots off before he’s quietly closing the bedroom door and leaving. 

The silence and loneliness sinks in once more and you find yourself sobbing into your knees all over again. Your head kills and you feel almost nauseous through your cries from the headache but you can’t stop yourself. 

You have no idea how long you cry for but before you know it, the bedroom door opens once again and you can hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he approaches the bathroom door once again.

“I made something for you to eat,” he says through the door, “Figured you might be hungry.” At the idea of food, your stomach growls, “It’ll be waiting for you at the table when you want it.”

You listen to him walk away and you know this is his way of luring you out of the bathroom. Part of you desperately wants to spite him for being so mean to you and refuse his food but the growling in your stomach is too much to bear and you can’t help but clamber to your feet and quietly pull the door open. 

When you reach the living room, Simon is facing the TV, giving no indication that he realizes you’ve come out of your hiding place. You sneak into the kitchen to see a bowl of soup sitting nicely at an empty spot. You take a seat and quickly devour the entire bowl, barely taking a break to breathe before it’s completely empty. 

You place it in the sink and carefully sneak back out of the kitchen, intending to slide right past him but in your haste you fail to notice that he’s no longer sitting on the couch. Instead, you come face to face with him sitting at the foot of his bed, clearly waiting for you. 

You freeze when you see him and all too soon that headache comes racing back to the forefront of your mind. 

Simon’s no longer wearing the skull plate and instead wears his usual black balaclava with the skull print on it. He wears a t-shirt and sweatpants, obviously having let himself get comfortable while you hid in the bathroom earlier. 

He looks up at you the second you step into the room and the two of you halt in a stalemate, simply staring at one another while you wait for the other to make the first move. 

You’re the first to break eye contact when a heavy throb goes through your head, making you close your eyes and bring your hand to your head until it passes. You hear the bed creak when Simon stands up before his hands are cupping your cheeks.

“You hit your head, didn’t you?” he asks, soft and gentle. 

You can’t stop yourself from glaring and snapping, “No thanks to you.”

His gaze softens as his hand finds its way to the back of your head, ever so softly prodding at the sizable bump that’s there, “I’m sorry, love.”

“If you’re sorry then why did you do it?” you find those damned tears returning all over again as you continue to glare up at him, “I told you I didn’t like it and I wanted to stop.”

“I know…” he whispers, hands once again cupping your cheeks, thumbing your tears away.

“What was your problem, Simon?” you tearfully ask, sniffling pathetically, “You hurt me. You were scary – scarier than those stupid zombies downstairs. Why did you do that?”

“I got…I was…” he struggled to find the right words before he stepped away from you with a troubled expression, “I was angry— scared. I just—I don’t know.”

“You were scared?” you scoff, “I’m the one who got attacked.”

“You think that wasn’t scary for me?” he asks in disbelief, “You almost got eaten alive on my watch.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” you sniffle, angrily storming over to the bed, letting yourself flop down on the comfortable mattress for the first time in days.

“I know,” he whispers, “Just let me explain, okay?”

You lay there silently, listening to his weight shift where he stands. You take notice of how his scent lingers much more on the blankets now that he’s slept on it. It smells good, you note, musky and delicate. He doesn’t wear anything that smells particularly overpowering. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, “Ever since this shit happened, I’ve been driving myself crazy. I lost contact with my team, my friends. I’m not able to get anymore information on what's goin’ on outside. I’m worried about you, I’m trying my hardest to make sure you can go out there and survive on your own if you need to. I feel like I’m going crazy and I’m scared because I’ve never felt this out of control before.”

You sit up and turn to face him, “How long have you been feeling like this, Simon..?”

“A while,” he mutters, turning his back on you when your gaze starts to feel like too much, “And then you called me a monster and I just…” he trails off, seemingly unsure of how to explain his feelings properly.

“I’m sorry for that, Simon,” you mutter sincerely, reaching out to grab his arm, urging him to turn around, “I never should have said that. And I didn’t mean it, really.”

“Well, you were right, weren’t you?” he scoffs, “I am a monster. Fuck, look at what I did to you – how I treated you. I was punishing you and I never should have.”

“We both made mistakes,” you compromise with a wobbly smile, “We’re dealing with a lot, right? The fucking world is ending and we’ve been trapped in this godforsaken building for who knows how long. It’ll get easier.”

He stares at you for a long moment, lashes fluttering as his gaze softens. You can’t find it in yourself to break eye contact. After a long moment, he seems to decide on something before reaching up and yanking the mask covering his face off. 

You feel your breath halt in your chest as your eyes widen, taking in every inch of his newly revealed face. His soft, brown eyes are a juxtaposition to the rest of his ruggedly handsome face. You stand up, never letting your eyes stray from him, a feeling of pure awe coming over you.

“You’re so handsome, Si,” you whisper, reaching forward to brush your fingers over a scar that cuts through his eyebrow to his eyelid, “It’s nice to finally see you.”

“I wanted you to see the real me,” he whispers, “Not the asshole soldier I was.”

“I’m glad you’ve trusted me with this,” you let your fingers wander along his skin, feeling the stubble on his jaw that he hadn’t yet shaved. 

“I need to tell you,” he sounds breathy, reaching up and catching your hand in his, pressing your palm flat against his cheek, “I was so scared when I heard you callin’ for me. I thought I was goin’ to be too late and I’d watch you die. I was terrified that I would lose you.”

“Simon…” you whisper in awe, watching how his soft, brown eyes display every tumultuous emotion that he experiences, “I’m sorry. I won’t do anything to worry you again.”

“I want you by my side for as long as you’re able,” he whispers, throat moving as he swallows.

“I won’t go anywhere,” you agree, stepping closer to him, “I promise.”

He leans in at the same time as you, meeting you for a sweet, tender kiss. It lasts only a second before you’re both pulling back to look in each other's eyes. Then, you’re both surging forward for a hungry, heated kiss. 

His hands grip your waist, squeezing there as he deepens the kiss. You whimper under his touch, standing on your tip-toes to match the intensity of his kiss. 

He moves you backwards, your knees hitting the edge of the bed, causing you to topple down. Simon follows, catching himself on his hands on either side of your head. He only breaks the kiss for a moment to move you further up the bed, easily manhandling you so your head is in the pillows before he’s kissing you all over again.

His hands are rough as they travel over your body, slipping your shirt up just enough to let him touch your bare sides. You quickly realize you’re still wearing your sleep clothes and that you don’t have a bra on. 

Clearly, Simon was aware because his hand quickly cups your bare breast with a rough, callused hand. His thumb finds your nipple, flicking over the bud as you whine into his mouth. 

He pulls back suddenly, cheeks flushed before he’s fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Arms up, sweetheart,” he coos, sickly sweet. 

You follow his orders and eagerly lift your arms up for him to tug the fabric of your shirt over your head. Once your breasts are bared to him, he’s leaning down to wrap his lips around one perked nipple while his fingers busy themselves with the other.

You cry out at the feeling of his teeth nipping at the sensitive bud, hands tangling in his soft, curly hair. He groans against your breast at the feeling of your pulling at his hair before he pulls back just a bit, breathlessly whispering, “Such perfect tits.”

“Simon…” you whimper, letting yourself relax into the bed as he switches to mouth at your other nipple, leaving the other to harden in the cool air before his hand travels down your stomach to your shorts, easily slipping underneath the fabric.

“Simon!” you call out again when you feel the heat of his hand cup your folds through your panties. 

“Shh, just let me do the work, love,” he mumbled, muffled by the fact he refuses to part from suckling on your nipple. 

His tongue drags over your breast, nipping and sucking marks into your skin. As he works the muscle, his hand in your panties remains stationary, just letting you feel the heat of it against your core. The teasing presence only makes you pulse and drool into your panties. You’re positive the fabric must be sticking to you by now from how wet you’ve become from playing with your breasts. 

“Your tits are so sensitive,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Does it feel good, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, arching your back to offer up your chest to him all over again.

He grins, a crooked little smile that makes your heart flutter. It was so nice to finally see him smile. 

But instead of mouthing at your breasts again, he leans back on his heels and pulls his hand from your panties. You whine at the loss but it’s cut short when he hooks his fingers into them and tugs them down your legs. You lift your hips to assist him but find yourself wincing when an ache goes through your body.

He notices and gently runs the palm of his hands up your thighs, urging you to relax.

“You sore, love?” he asks, voice filled with what you can only call guilt.

“A little…” you admit, biting your lip, “My thighs are killing me, actually.”

He shakes his head at himself and leans down, pressing a kiss next to the scrape on one of your knees as his hands slowly begin to knead the sore muscles in your thighs. You sigh and let your eyes flutter at the feeling. 

With your eyes closed, you don’t realize he leans down until you feel a hot, wet tongue slide from your pubic bone to your sternum. Your cunt clenches pathetically at the feeling. When you open your eyes, Simon’s pretty, brown eyes are half-lidded and his tongue hangs out of his mouth. You can’t resist cupping the back of his head and pulling him for a kiss, whimpering and moaning against his mouth.

“Fingers or tongue?” he asks, muffled and messy against your lips. 

“What?” your hazy mind can’t quite comprehend what he’s asking of you.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?” he reiterates, “I want to make you cum.”

You whimper at that, “B-Both!”

He scoffs, full brows furrowing, “Greedy.”

You find yourself blushing at that but he doesn’t deny your request. He sinks down your body, peppering kisses down your body on the way until he kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed. 

He grabs your hips and effortlessly yanks you down so your legs hang off the edge of the bed. 

He spreads your thighs apart and you find yourself holding your breath, watching through your lashes as he trails kisses up your thigh, getting closer to where you want him the most. You’re trembling under his attention and it makes you clench pathetically around absolutely nothing. You’re sure he can see the way your cunt drools and leaks with every small kiss he peppers against your skin. 

Just when he gets close, he pulls back and kisses back down towards your knee. The teasing has you wound taut, feeling as if you’re almost on the edge without him ever properly touching you.

It feels like hours that he does it, kissing up and down your thighs. Occasionally, he nips at the skin there, swirling his tongue over the burning marks he leaves behind to soothe the sting. Finally, he moves his hand and you think he’s going to finally give you something but all he does is spread your folds apart with two fingers, exposing your hole and clit to the cool bedroom air. The action makes you whine but he pays you no mind. 

He carries on kissing your thighs and nipping at your skin. No matter how much you rut your hips, hoping to entice him into touching you and giving you what you really need, he ignores it. He ignores your whines and the cries of his name, ignores the way your cunt clenches and drools around nothing, clit twitching from how much teasing you’re enduring. 

The little bud aches, throbbing as it begs for anything – any little touch that he has to offer. He could blow air upon the nub right now and you’re sure you would explode in pure pleasure. 

When you sob his name, broken and needier than you’ve ever heard yourself, he finally looks up. His eyelids are heavy, concealing half of his iris and it makes him look positively fucked out. 

“Look at me,” he commands, licking his lips slowly, “Right in the eyes, let me see you properly.”

You force yourself to meet his penetrating gaze, almost struggling to compose yourself. You find yourself trapped in the eye contact, almost paralyzed under his intoxicating gaze. He holds you there for what feels like minutes but in reality is probably just a few seconds. 

His fingers finally hone in on your clit, pressing against the twitching, hardened bud. You cum immediately, still locked in that intoxicating eye contact. You cry out, hands slapping against the bed as he draws the orgasm out of you with slow circles on the little bud, sticky clicking sounds filling the room and mixing with your wild cries of pleasure. It seems like the high never stops, more and more cum gushing from your cunt and dripping down to stain the comforter beneath you. 

Simon watches you with keen attention, taking in every expression you make as he makes you cum against his fingers, the bud throbbing wildly until the orgasm finally dissipates. 

When you finally sag against the bed, your thighs fall completely open as the post-orgasm exhaustion quickly hits. You’re left trembling and twitching through the aftershocks, pretty pussy still drooling with every clench of your walls.

Simon takes the opportunity of you coming down to strip himself. He tugs his shirt off over his head and lets his sweatpants drop the floor, carelessly kicking them away. His gaze never leaves you, never leaves that twitching little cunt between your legs.

There’s a slick film of your cum coating your folds and his mouth fucking waters. 

Your eyes fly open, not even realizing that you had closed them, when he suddenly cups the back of your thighs and pins you wide open for him.

“Simon…” you pathetically coo, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair when he comes within reach.

“So sweet for me,” he coos, kissing your thigh once again and you’re scared that he’s going to tease you all over again, “A good orgasm got you nice and sweet, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mutter, dazedly looking at him as you feel his breath on your sensitive cunt. 

That alone makes you clench around nothing. You nearly whimper out loud when you see his tongue fall from his mouth, glistening with spit before he licks a slow, wide stripe between your folds. 

When he comes back up, he holds his tongue out and lets you see the creamy mess of your cum left behind. He makes a show of swallowing every drop in his mouth, making your cheeks flush in pure embarrassment at such a lewd display. 

You had no idea Simon would be so fucking filthy in bed but the way his eyes roll back at your taste tells you all that you need to know. 

He loudly slurps your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sloppy bud as he whines and groans into your cunt. You tug harshly at his hair at the overwhelming feeling of having your clit doted on so expertly. 

His hands keep you pinned open, allowing him to slip his tongue inside you, occasionally taking a moment to visibly swallow every drop of your slick so you can see the way he absolutely savors your taste.

He swirls that offending tongue around your clit again, slurping it back into his mouth before two fingers are prodding at your entrance. You clench against him, the excitement of finally being filled with something making you whimper. Just the sound of you so eager makes him almost want to cum completely untouched. 

Your cum generously coats his face and he absolutely loves it. He pulls away suddenly, dark eyes locking onto your face as he pants from how lost he was in eating you out. He slowly presses two fingers inside you, letting them slide in, hugged by the plushness of your walls.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, love,” he coos, moaning sympathetically when you cry out from the feeling of being stretched on his fingers, “And so warm too, fuck.”

He decides, in that moment, that he doesn’t care if the world is ending outside, he feels nothing but bliss with you. He never wants this to end, he wants to get completely lost in the pure intoxication of you. 

He leans down, flattening his tongue against your clit once again. The feeling is heightened now that he’s got his thick fingers stuffed inside you. You clench around him at the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive bud once more. 

He suddenly crooks his fingers and your legs helplessly kick in the air at the overwhelming feeling of him pressing and prodding against that gooey little spot inside you. Your hips rabbit up and you practically wail at the overwhelming sensations he’s attacking you with. You squeal his name so sweetly before he finally backs off a bit, letting you sink back into the soft cushions of the bed.

He’s completely drunk off of you, off the creamy cum you gush out for him to lick up, off the lovely sounds you let out from how good he makes you feel. His cock is so painfully hard and he wants so badly to wrap his hand around himself but he knows he’ll blow his load the second he does, so he refrains. 

To distract himself from the ache in his cock, he doubles his focus on you and making you feel good. His fingers crook upwards again, prodding your g-spot again with renewed vigor. You cry out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sucks your clit into his mouth, the suction making your thighs tremble. 

“I-I wanna cum!” you cry out, fingers still tugging harshly at his hair. 

He groans against you but doesn’t dare to part from you, too focused on bringing you to your high to actually goad you into it. His fingers move inside you, fucking you nice and deep, making sure he’s working that sweet little spot inside you as he continues to suck on your clit. 

It doesn’t take long before your entire body stiffens and you toss your head back. The choked out cry is music to his ears and his own eyes roll back when he feels the way your walls tighten around him, soaking his fingers generously. Your clit throbs in his mouth before he releases his suction on it, instead choosing to lick the pulsing little bud with the flat of his tongue to gently ease you through the high. 

You’re pushing his head away long before he’s ready to part but he willingly backs off nonetheless. His chin is wet with your cum, even dripping down his neck and the sight makes you flush. There’s a loud, squishy noise when he slowly pulls his fingers from the hot clutch of your cunt. 

“Scoot back for me, darlin’,” he commands you, slurring a little before he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of the mess you left behind. 

You do as he says, shakily pushing yourself back so you can lay your head in the pillows. With Simon standing at the foot of the bed, you finally get the chance to take a look at him. 

He’s obviously incredibly well built, broad and firm in all the right places. Most notably, he has numerous scars, some that looked like bullet wounds and others that were long and thin. 

“Are all those from the military?” you find yourself asking as he carefully crawls onto the bed, jostling you as the mattress moves under his weight.

“Yeah,” he breathes, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You let him handle your body as he pleases, spreading your legs so he can comfortably situate himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, rests against your folds and you find your eyes going wide at the sight of it.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he chuckles, like he can hear what you’re thinking. 

“That’s not going to fit,” you breathe, unable to tear your gaze off the twitching, fat length of him.

“‘Course it will, love,” he breathes, pecking your lips again, letting his lips trail down over your jaw, “I worked you open real good, all you gotta do is relax and let me in.”

With a minute adjustment of his hips, the tip prods your entrance. He grips the base of his length, carefully pushing forward, mouth dropping open as he feels your hot, wet walls spread around the head of him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts, “Jus’ let me do the work.”

Your hands fly down to grip his forearms, nails biting harder into the skin there the deeper he sinks into you. The middle of his cock is the fattest, giving you an almost painful stretch that makes your face pinch up in a way that Simon doesn’t like.

He brings one hand to his mouth, licking his thumb before carefully pressing the digit against that sensitive bud. You whimper at the feeling, cunt clutching tight around him, easing more of his length inside. He circles your clit a few more times, watching your face for any clear signs of discomfort. Before long, his hips meet yours, filling you absolutely full to the brim in a way no one ever had before. 

He plants both hands on either side of your head, abandoning your clit in favor of simply rutting his hips against yours. His large body hovers over you, shielding you from anything outside of him and you find yourself completely lost in everything that is him – how full he makes you feel, how nice he smells, how safe you feel trapped beneath him like you are. 

Your hands wind around his neck, pulling him down so his chest presses against yours. Your breasts squish against his chest and he finds his eyes flickering down just to look at them. The sight makes you smile despite yourself – it’s cute, you think.

Tangling your fingers in his soft curls once again, you bring him down for a kiss. He’s still slowly, carefully rutting his hips against yours, his lower abdomen sliding against your clit as his cock stirs inside you, stretching you and hitting every sweet little spot inside you. 

You whimper into his mouth, gasping at the way he makes you feel so full and good while he barely does anything. Your knees bracket against his ribs, squeezing him so tightly you wonder if it hurts but he just continues to kiss you and circle his hips. 

“Wanna feel you cum around me,” he whispers, barely parting from your lips to request it, “Just like this, cover my cock. Be good for me.”

You knew you wouldn’t be able to disobey even if you wanted to. With the way he stirs you up and drags against every tender spot inside you all while grinding against your clit the way he is, you don’t stand a chance. Your third orgasm creeps up on you and your back arches just as it washes over you.

Simon groans at the feeling of you cumming around him for the first time – the tight, wet clutch of your cunt feeling better than he ever could have dreamed. As he watches you writhe in his bed, moaning and whimpering his name, he’s overcome with a plethora of feelings that just melt his heart. 

He can’t resist pulling you in for another kiss, cupping your jaw as he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock remains buried in your cunt. You’re still working on coming down from the orgasm he just gave you but he’s greedy – he wants to feel it again. He wants to fuck the orgasm out of you, make you ride it out and gush all over him.

He needs to show you how good he can be for you, hoping that this alone can get across just how much you mean to him. He’s never been the best with words, so he can only hope that this is enough for now.

Your hands press against his chest, aimlessly pushing at him from the overwhelming way he fucks you. You’re so sensitive, pushed into cumming more times than anyone had ever made you before. But he doesn’t show any signs of slowing or stopping. He’s a machine, built for stamina and he’s on a fucking mission now – to make you feel as good as he possibly can. 

You’re attempting to push him away, to give your poor, overstimulated body a chance to come down. But he’s having none of it. 

“Hands off, love,” he commands breathlessly. But you just stare up at him with dazed, teary eyes, panting and sweaty. He clicks his tongue, “You ignorin’ me, sweetheart?”

He grapples your wrists in his one hand, pulling yours away from his chest and pinning them above your head. He uses this new hold as leverage to really fuck you, pulling back and sinking back in as deep as he possibly can. His tip kisses your cervix, making your thighs tense up at the twinge of pain that comes with having him so deep. 

But the pain mixes so addictively with the pleasure that you find yourself getting completely lost in the slow, deep rhythm that he sets. Every time he sinks balls deep, his hips slap against yours and he rubs up deliciously against your clit. The pleasure on your bud doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back again, never allowing you to fully build up to another delicious high. 

Simon is lost in the way you whimper and whine. He can swear that he’s never heard anything as incredible as you being denied the pleasure he had been so generous with so far. He likes the desperate look in your eyes; it makes him feel amazing to know that you need him to make you feel good. He’s in charge of your pleasure in that moment and he finds himself relishing in that feeling of control over you. 

You look so sweet beneath him, pinned and helpless with teary eyes looking up at him. Your pupils are blown wide from the pleasure his cock brings you as he continues to fuck you nice and deep. 

Usually, Simon is a fast and rough kind of guy, but he finds himself thinking that he could definitely get used to a pace like this more often. As long as it’s you that’s underneath him. 

It doesn’t take you very long to break, those pretty tears falling down your cheeks as you breathlessly plead with him, “Please, Simon,” your voice cracks so cutely, “I want more!”

He chuckles under his breath and leans down, pressing a tender kiss against your temple before whispering, “What’s stoppin’ you from takin’ more?”

That seems to set you off. You’re bracing your feet on the bed, rutting your hips, rocking yourself against his cock. A moan rips from his chest at the sight of you using his cock like that. His heavy balls press against you and the feeling makes his cock throb, making him realize how badly he needs to cum. But he doesn’t want to give up this little show you’re putting on for him so soon. 

You’re so, so wet that he can feel how your messy little cunt squishes around him. You shamelessly soak every inch of him the more you work your own pussy on his fat cock. You tug your hands free from his grip and he’s left clenching the pillows in his fist when he watches your fingers descend.

He thinks you’re going to go for your clit, to push yourself over the edge like you so deserved for being so good for him. But instead, you reach for your own tits. The breath punches out of his lungs as the sight of you meanly pinching and tweaking your nipples as you continue to rock yourself against him.

Simon feels his balls tighten at the sight and he almost thinks he’s going to cum but he suddenly pulls his cock out. You wail in complete misery at the loss, tearfully watching him wrap his hand around the base of his cock, pinching off the impending orgasm.

You flop back down onto the bed, sniffling pathetically as you glare at him for ruining the orgasm you were so beautifully working yourself up to. He smiles crookedly at you, cupping the backs of your knees, crudely pinning them to your chest so your pretty, wet cunt is open and vulnerable to the way he suddenly stuffs himself back inside. 

With you completely pinned beneath him in a press, you can’t do anything except cry out and wail in pleasure as he finally fucks you fast and hard. His balls slap lewdly against your ass, your arousal dripping off of them. 

His eyes are locked on the way you’re stretched so wide around the girth of him. You’re creaming around him, a milky ring left in your wake every time he pulls out. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe or collect yours, simply fucking you with everything he has. It’s loud, wet, and fucking messy. 

“F-Fuck,” he chokes on the word, voice breaking as it comes out. He’s so close that it hurts, “Play with yourself for me, love, rub your clit.”

Your hand flies down to do as you’re told without a second thought. It only takes a few, quick circles around the hard little bud before you’re cumming with a cute little squeal. Your feet kick helplessly in the air, toes curling from how hard you cum around him. 

Simon groans at the sight and feeling of you losing yourself on his cock. You continue to swirl and tap at your clit, forcing yourself to cum harder and harder until you’re squirting around him with a choked off sob of his name. 

Simon’s hips never still or falter, fucking you fast and deep to work you through the orgasm. Your cum splatters across his hips, thighs, and chest. It makes his eyes roll up into his head before he lets his head fall back. His jaw opens and he moans, loud and deep as his own orgasm finally washes over him. 

His pace falters as you lay there twitching and crying, a few trembling thrusts of his hips as his cock spits rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums longer and harder than he has in a very long time. He continues with short, aborted little thrusts on his sensitive cock as he continues to cum.

Even when the orgasm dissipates, he finds himself fucking into the creamy mess drooling out of your twitching cunt. 

“S-Simon-!” you choke out, nails clawing down his shoulders, “S-Sensitive!”

“I know, love,” he pants, almost deliriously, “J-Just one more. G-Gotta fill you up again.”

You can’t do anything but lay back and let him use your cunt as he works to force another orgasm out of his overstimulated cock. He’s gasping and whining as he moves his hips, pulling his cock out only to stuff it back inside. A mixture of your cum and his drips down, soaking his cock, pelvis, and balls. It’s a heady, lewd mess that he can’t bring himself to worry about now but he knows it’ll be a pain to clean up later. 

You’re trembling and twitching with every one of his movements, tears dried and new on your cheeks. He feels a pang of remorse for you, you’re tired and overstimulated but he just needs to wring this one last orgasm out and then he’ll let you rest.

“You can be good for me, huh?” he coos sweetly, “Just be sweet and let me, fuck, use this pretty little cunt, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, nodding your head as your eyelids flutter in exhaustion.

Simon leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You both get lost in the kiss, with your arms wrapped around his neck. He loves how it feels to have you stuffed on his cock while your pretty, sweet body twitches and trembles beneath him. He knows it probably hurts by now and the fact you’re just laying there and letting him use you like this has him reaching his second high. 

He chokes on a moan, gasping as he cums for the final time. It’s much more lackluster than his first one but he still fills you up just like you both needed. His cock twitches almost painfully inside you as he slowly rocks his hips, wincing at the overstimulation. 

After a few, still moments, he pulls his length free from the soft plushness of your cunt and rolls off of you. You’re both panting, laying on your backs on the bed as you come back to yourselves.

You’re the first one to move, rolling onto your side and wrapping yourself around him. Simon finds himself smiling when he feels the sweet way you snuggle against him, seeking his comfort automatically. 

You start shivering, the mess of cum and sweat on your body causing you to become cold. He urges you to sit up despite your protests. 

“Let’s take a shower and sleep,” he offers sweetly, supporting your shaky body to the bathroom.

He continues to support you and hold you close through the shower. He finds himself grateful that there’s still hot water because you both certainly need it after such a messy tryst in his bed. 

You’re the first to fall asleep, tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around him like a little koala. His hand strokes up and down your back, just staring into the inky blackness of his bedroom. 

Part of him feels like it’s all a dream, to have someone so sweet tucked against him, offering him comfort and feeling safe as they snooze peacefully. A sense of fierce protectiveness washes over him as he finds himself going through plans in his head – what the future may hold.

He’s torn from his thoughts when you shoot up from your deep sleep with a gasp. Your head wildly turns, looking around the room. His hand finds purchase on your back, making you jump before relaxing immediately in recognition.

“Bad dream?” he asks, tugging you gently to lay you back down against his chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I dreamt that I was trapped with them in that hallway again.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you to make sure you feel secure. You go still for a long time and he thinks you fell asleep again but then you ask him a question that surprises him.

“Who are those people in the photos?” you quietly question, “In your living room.”

He hums, rubbing a rough hand up and down your shoulder and arm, “My teammates. Friends, I guess.”

“You guess?” you chuckle.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “Task Force 141; Captain John Price, and Seargets John ‘Soap’ MacTavish and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.”

“Soap is a silly name,” you comment, grinning up at him, resting your chin against his chest, “What about you?”

“Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley,” he responds with ease. 

“Do you know where they are?” you ask.

It’s an innocent question but it sends a pang of hurt to his chest. If he were a weaker, less trained man, he may have felt tears pricking his eyes, “I don’t know,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “I was in contact with Soap when everything started goin’ to shit. Lost contact with him though. He’s a tough bastard though, I’m sure he’s fine somewhere out there. I don’t know where the other two were or are.”

“If they’re even half as good as you, I’m sure they’re all fine,” you offer optimistically. 

Simon hums again, reaching a hand up to brush a stray flyaway off of your forehead. His big hand cups your cheek, stroking his thumb over your lips which you offer a gentle kiss against. 

“All I’m worried about now is you,” he confesses softly, “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be happy. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” you smile, laying back down to nuzzle against his chest, “I’m okay as long as you’re here.”

He wraps his arms around you again and closes his eyes, letting himself sleep peacefully with you held safe against him.

It’s not even a week later that you’re sitting on the couch with him, peacefully watching a movie with a full belly after cooking a quick dinner with him, that you hear a loud, mechanical thump and you’re plunged into complete silence and darkness. Your heart jumps and races in your chest, mindlessly grappling onto Simon’s arm as he sits still beside you.

“What happened?” you ask, whispering as if you’re scared to speak any louder.

“Power went out,” he responds, not sounding the least bit perturbed, “Knew it was comin’. Water’s probably out now too.”

“What do we do?” you ask, the tremor of fear in your voice practically breaking his heart. 

He stands up and you whimper in fear when he’s out of your reach. You can hear him moving around in the dark before a bright, blinding light lands on you. 

“We can’t stay here for much longer,” he responds, “We’ll have to move out and find somewhere with more resources.”

“How long have you been planning this?” you ask, getting to your feet to follow him down the hall to the bedroom.

“Ever since the news stopped reportin’,” he responds, grabbing a large backpack from the closet, “Let’s pack up.”

You linger beside him and he looks at you with a raised brow, “I’m scared, Simon.”

His gaze softens and he walks up to you, cupping your cheeks tenderly, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, “We’re goin’ to go out, find a small place to hunker down. We’ll look for a generator or a vehicle and get somewhere safe. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nod your head, “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he smiles, kissing your forehead, “Now take this backpack and fill it with what’s left of our canned food, alright? I’m goin’ to pack everything else we need, don’t worry about a thing.”

He offers you a flashlight, which you gratefully take and click on. You’re glad that he gives you an easy task to focus on. You take the smaller backpack he offers you and make your way to the kitchen. You only have about 5 cans of food left and you carefully place them inside the bag before opening the refrigerator to pack a few full bottles of water that you have stored in there. You make sure to toss in a can opener just in case before you place the backpack on the couch. 

Simon emerges from the room with the large, military backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“You get it all?” he asks, taking a seat to shove his boots onto his feet.

“Yeah and a couple water bottles,” you respond, approaching him slowly.

“That’s perfect,” he praises, looking over at you, “You should go get dressed. Jeans and a hoodie. Put your sneakers on and make sure they’re tight, got it?”

You nervously do as you’re told, disappearing into the bedroom to quickly dress yourself under the flashlight. You can hear Simon moving around in the living room, heavy boots thumping against the floor with every step he takes. 

You toss the hoodie over your head and make your way back to Simon, who stands in the living room, looking out the window. The sun is just beginning to come up over the horizon, casting a dim amount of sunlight to come through. 

He turns to look at you when he hears you approach. 

“There you go,” he hums, pulling the hoodie up over your head and tightening the strings, “Keep your neck covered. We’ll find you some better clothing somewhere along the way.”

You nod your head and take a glance over his shoulder out the window. You can barely see the ground from your position but you can see people shuffling around on the streets below. A pang of fear goes through you as you realize that they’re most definitely not normal people – the streets are crawling with those undead freaks. 

Simon leads you to the door and unsheaths a weapon for you – a machete he had taught you to wield with relative ease. You grip it in your hands, nervously twirling it around until you find a comfortable position. Simon nods his head and pulls out a combat knife, holding it low at his side before opening the door. 

The descent to the lobby is relatively easy, you walk over the undead that have already been taken care of in the stairwell.

“I took care of these already,” he explains without you even having to ask, helping you jump over a pile of 3 zombies at the foot of the stairs. 

“You got more kills under your belt than me,” you comment, mostly in jest to lighten your mood.

Simon huffs under his breath, slowly pushing open the door to the lobby, “You have no idea.”

You squint and turn off your flashlight when you step into the well lit lobby. The sun is now above the horizon, allowing you to see with ease once again. 

Simon remains in front of you, making your way to the double front doors. You peek around him, heart racing in your chest as your grip on your weapon tightens.

“Are you ready?” he asks, casting a glance over his shoulder.

“No…” you confess, shuffling closer to him.

“Everything will be okay,” he promises firmly and you actually believe him. 

When he pushes open the door, the groans of the undead fill your ears and you find your eyes darting frantically around the streets that you can now see with terrifying clarity. 

Hundreds of undead swarm the streets, stumbling and groaning as they shuffle around aimlessly in search of food. Simon reaches down and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You know it’s going to be the fight of your life but with Simon by your side, you have faith that you’re going to make it through and find somewhere safe together.

 property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

[gyuuberryy]

teeth

“let's play together, you make me so thirsty”

pairing: vampire!heeseung x reader

synopsis: you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.

genre: enemies to lovers, vampire au

warnings: lots of suggestive content!!(read at your own discretion), blood, alcohol, getting trapped in a lift, making out, teeth and biting(obviously)

note: this is like my first time writing something suggestive so i was a little nervous, but i think it turned out well! there's no smut tho. teeth is such a freaky song teehee, i hope this gives off the same vibes. listen to the song while reading this, enjoy!

word count: 5.2k

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

fairy lights strung across the hallway cast a warm glow on the gaggle of your neighbours crammed into the shared corridor. plates heaped with enough food to feed a small army overflowed from a makeshift table, the air thick with the aroma of baked ziti and something suspiciously like burnt brownies.

it was the monthly floor potluck, a supposed chance for neighbourly bonding. you, however, stood alone by the shoe rack, arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place.

the source of your discontent? lee heeseung, the new resident in 3B. he'd moved in a week ago, and in that short time, had managed to charm the socks off everyone else. mrs. kim from 3A gushed about his "angelic smile," mr. lee from across the hall swore he'd single-handedly fixed the perpetually leaky faucet, and even the ever-grumpy mrs. park from 2B had softened to his "polite demeanour." you, however, weren't buying it.

there was something… off about him. he was a little too pale, a little too perfect. the way his eyes seemed to glint in the fairy lights sent shivers down your spine, not the good kind. maybe it was the way he never seemed to eat anything, politely declining every dish offered with a charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. or maybe it was just a gut feeling, a primal instinct screaming that there was more to heeseung than met the eye.

as you nursed your lukewarm coffee, heeseung materialised beside you, a plate piled high with (uneaten) pasta in his hand. his smile, as always, was dazzling.

"hey there! i'm heeseung, from 3b. i’ve been meaning to meet you for a while! everyone's been raving about you."

you narrowed your eyes at him. "is that right?"

he chuckled, a sound a little too melodious. "absolutely! they say you make the best chocolate chip cookies on the floor." he gestured to the burnt offering on the table. "though, these brownies look like they could use some work."

a sarcastic snort escaped your lips. "they're mrs. park's. apparently, baking isn't her forte."

heeseung's smile faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he recovered. "well, maybe next time you could bring your famous cookies," he suggested, his voice smooth as silk.

you raised an eyebrow, suspicion solidifying in your gut. "maybe i will," you said, your voice devoid of warmth.

heeseung seemed to hesitate, the air crackling with a strange tension. then, with another dazzling smile, he excused himself and moved on to mrs. kim, who was already gushing about his "nonexistent" culinary skills.

you watched him go, a cold dread settling in your stomach. he might be fooling everyone else, but you wouldn't be swayed by his facade. there was something about heeseung, something dark and unsettling, and you were determined to find out what it was.

weeks bled into months, and your suspicions about heeseung only intensified. he'd become the bane of your existence, a charming yet infuriating shadow that seemed to follow you around the building. every potluck, every hallway encounter was a constant push and pull between your icy suspicion and his playful facade.

he revelled in teasing you, his compliments bordering on flirtatious. "looking lovely today, aren’t you?" he'd purr, his eyes gleaming with an amusement that sent shivers down your spine. you'd counter with sarcastic remarks that usually sailed right over his head, leaving you more frustrated than ever.

one particularly rainy afternoon, you were rushing down the hallway, arms laden with groceries, when the treacherous floor betrayed you. your foot slipped, and you went sprawling towards the cold tile. but before you could hit the ground, strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you upright with surprising ease.

for a moment, you were trapped in heeseung's embrace. your ear was pressed against his chest, and a jolt of fear shot through you. there was no comforting thud of a heartbeat, just a chilling silence. his touch was icy cold, sending a wave of goosebumps erupting across your skin.

you scrambled away from him, a mixture of terror and anger twisting your features. "don't touch me!" you hissed, dropping a bag of groceries with a clatter.

heeseung straightened, his smile unwavering. "whoa there. just trying to be a good neighbour."

you glared at him, your voice trembling. "there's nothing neighbourly about you, heeseung. what are you?"

his smile faltered for a flicker of a second, a flicker you caught this time. but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual charming facade. "just a guy who likes to help out a damsel in distress," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. they held a glint of something predatory, something that confirmed your worst fears. he wasn't normal. and whatever he was, it was becoming increasingly clear that he was toying with you.

you grabbed the remaining grocery bags, clutching them tightly to your chest as if they were a shield. "don't think this is over, heeseung," you hissed, your voice surprisingly steady despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "i'll find out who you are, and i'll expose you."

he tilted his head, a playful glint back in his eyes. "is that a challenge, darling?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "be careful what you wish for. you might just find out more than you bargained for."

with that cryptic message hanging in the air, he turned and sauntered back to his apartment, leaving you alone in the hallway, the weight of his words and the chilling memory of his touch settling over you like a shroud. you were determined to unravel the mystery of heeseung, but a new, terrifying question gnawed at you: were you prepared for what you might find?

sleep evaded you that night. the unsettling encounter with heeseung replayed on a loop in your mind. you tossed and turned, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic tapping of rain against your window. finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, you crept out of bed and tiptoed towards the door, hoping to get some fresh air.

just as you were about to unlock the door the ‘ding’ of the elevator’s arrival stopped you in your tracks. who could it be this late at night?

peeking through the peephole, you were met with a sight that sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through you. heeseung stood casually a few feet away from your door, the rain slicking his dark hair back from his forehead.

he was whistling a cheerful tune, completely oblivious to your scrutiny. but what truly sent shivers down your spine was the state of his hands. they were stained with something dark and viscous, drying in the cool night air. it looked… suspiciously like blood.

the blood ran cold in your veins. just as you were about to pull back, heeseung paused, his head tilting ever so slightly as if he could sense you watching. a slow, unnerving smirk spread across his face, his eyes seeming to lock with yours through the peephole. how? it was impossible.

panic clawed at you. you stumbled back, adrenaline flooding your system. you had to warn the others. heeseung couldn't be trusted.

the next day, you stormed into mrs. kim's apartment, her usual cheery demeanour replaced by a frantic urgency. you blurted out everything – the coldness, the lack of a heartbeat, and the bloodstains you witnessed the night before.

mrs. kim, however, listened with a furrowed brow. "blood? are you sure, dear? heeseung wouldn't hurt a fly."

heeseung, conveniently appearing in the midst of your outburst, played the part of the concerned neighbour perfectly.

"is everything alright here?" he asked, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "seems a little tense."

mrs. kim just dismissed him, shaking her head with a small chuckle, “nothing dear, it’s not important.”

his smile was disarming, his eyes brimming with feigned innocence. "oh i see. what were you two talking about so intently then?"

you glared at him, your voice trembling with barely contained anger. "i was just telling mrs. kim about your… unusual habits." you recounted the previous night's events, your gaze flitting between mrs. kim and heeseung.

heeseung chuckled, a light, airy sound that sent shivers down your spine. immediately, his expression morphed into one of concern, looking at mrs kim. "hasn’t she been acting strangely lately? maybe a little… stressed?"

his words stung. he was twisting the narrative, making you seem paranoid and delusional. your frustration grew, your voice rising as you tried to explain what you saw, but your neighbour's eyes held only pity and dismissal.

mrs. kim patted your hand soothingly. "maybe you're just a little stressed, dear. heeseung's a good boy, always looking out for everyone. don't you worry about him."

shame burned in your cheeks. you were alone, your warnings falling on deaf ears. heeseung's smile widened, the glint in his eyes predatory.

"see?" he said, his voice low and menacing, but directed only at you. "sometimes, silence is the best policy."

with that, he turned and sauntered away, leaving you trapped in a nightmare you couldn't seem to wake up from.

back in your apartment, you sank onto the couch, a defeated sigh escaping your lips. you were alone, your suspicions dismissed as paranoia. but the image of heeseung's bloodstained hands, his chilling smirk, burned into your memory. you wouldn't give up. you had to find a way to expose him, to prove to everyone that the perfect neighbour was nothing but a monster in disguise.

the bass vibrated through the floor, the air thick with sweat and the sweet scent of spilled cocktails. you were lost in the music, laughing with your friends, a rare moment of reprieve from the constant worry that was heeseung. the tipsy buzz from the vodka-cranberries only amplified the carefree feeling, pushing his unsettling presence to the back of your mind.

tipsy from a few too many drinks, you excused yourself, needing a momentary escape from the pulsating heat of the dance floor of the club. the cool night air was a welcome change as you stepped into the balcony, the cityscape shimmering under the neon glow. a sudden prickle ran down your spine, making you stop mid-step. it was the distinct feeling of someone's gaze boring into you, a predator sizing up its prey.

your heart hammered against your ribs as you spun around, searching the crowd. there, leaning against the wall opposite the club entrance, stood heeseung. his perfect features were cast in shadow, but the glint of his eyes in the darkness sent a shiver down your spine. he held a drink in his hand, his knuckles white around the glass, as if tightening his grip to control himself.

the moment you locked eyes with him, the air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it. it wasn't just fear this time. there was a strange undercurrent, a dark energy that seemed to emanate from him.

your mind, fuzzy from the alcohol, couldn't quite grasp it, but your body reacted instinctively. panic surged through you, erasing the tipsy haze. this wasn't the charming neighbour; this was the dangerous entity you'd glimpsed before.

you didn't waste a second. turning on your heel, you practically sprinted back into the club, weaving through the crowd. your breath came out in ragged gasps, fueled by a cocktail of fear and the alcohol throbbing in your veins.

with a desperate lunge, you pushed open the nearest door, the sign above it proclaiming it a restroom.

just as you fumbled for the lock, a strong hand shot past your shoulder, wedging itself between the door and the frame. you froze, staring in horror as heeseung casually pushed his way in behind you. he slammed the door shut with a sickening thud, the lock clicking ominously behind him.

he cornered you against the door, his body acting as a wall and a scent that was both familiar and strangely intoxicating. the air crackled with unspoken tension, thick with the remnants of your fear and an undeniable spark of…something else.

“what do you think you’re doing?”, you winced at how weak your voice sounded.

he leaned impossibly close, his breath chilly against your ear. he seemed to be tipsy as well, with the way he stumbled and invaded your personal space.

the alcohol loosened your inhibitions, and his voice, usually smooth and playful, now had a dark, alluring edge to it.

"you looked beautiful dancing under those lights," he whispered, his words sending shivers down your spine. "such a shame you seem to hate me so."

his nearness was overwhelming. you couldn't feel any heat radiating from his body, but the way his lips brushed against your ear sent a jolt through you. his voice, usually smooth as silk, now had a rough edge, sending a shiver down your spine that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

your mind, fuzzy from the alcohol, struggled to process the situation. he was terrifying, yes, but a strange, confusing attraction warred with the fear simmering beneath the surface.

your gaze latched onto the physical beauty in front of you - the sharp angles of his jaw, the way the moonlight glinted off his dark brown eyes. all the warnings you'd tried to ignore hammered against your intoxicated mind, but for some reason, they held no power in the face of the undeniable magnetism of the man pinning you to the door.

“what do you want from me”, your words came out in a hushed whisper, scared as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment.

his gaze flitted down to your lips as he got closer to you, now only a breath away. he leaned closer, the scent of something foreign, yet oddly alluring, invading your senses.

his gaze dropped to your lips, painted a soft pink from the drinks you'd consumed.

before you could register the movement, his lips were on yours. the kiss was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – the initial shock giving way to a surge of heat that defied logic. his hand slid down your back, pressing you flush against the wooden door.you clung to him, a confused mix of fear and a thrilling sense of forbidden desire coursing through you.

the kiss deepened, becoming desperate, hungry. he tasted of something sweet and metallic, a strange anomaly that sent a jolt through your system. you ignored it, caught up in the intoxicating whirlwind.

his body was freezing cold, save for his lips, his skin a contrast against the heat from your body which made a wave of concern rise up in the back of your head. but it was all forgotten as his hand moved to your neck, his fingers trailing a chilly path before dipping behind your ear.

you gasped at the sudden feeling, and heeseung took the opportunity to let his tongue enter your mouth. the kiss got messier and hotter, as if he was trying to devour you whole.

he rained kisses down your jawline, each one a searing brand against your skin. his touch sent shivers of anticipation down your spine, your breath hitching as you felt his teeth graze a sensitive spot.

it wasn't a bite, not yet. it was a brush, a feather-light caress that sent a jolt through your system. but it wasn't just the touch. there was something… different about his canines. they were sharper, pointier than human teeth, and the sensation sent a wave of surprise through you.

he froze, the movement of his mouth stopping abruptly. his breath hitched in his throat, coming out in ragged gasps like a predator startled mid-hunt. his eyes, locked on your neck, flickered with a mix of hunger and… something else. a flicker of remorse, a struggle you couldn't quite decipher.

the tension in the room was suffocating. you stared back at him, your mind a tangled mess of confusion and desire. but before you could form a question, before you could understand the shift in him, heeseung pulled away. his grip on your neck loosened, replaced by a cold indifference.

his eyes, once filled with a dark desire, now held a chilling emptiness. the warmth of his body vanished as he stepped back, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. he stared at you for a long, agonising moment, his eyes unreadable.

then, in a swift movement, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving you pressed against the door, the memory of the heated kiss a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in your stomach.

the heat of the kiss still lingered on your lips, a confusing memory tainted by the chilling realisation of what he truly was. you cradled your neck, the phantom sensation of his sharp touch lingering long after he was gone.

days bled into a strange silence. the unsettling encounters with heeseung, once a daily occurrence, had vanished. you wouldn't normally miss his presence, but the sudden absence gnawed at you with an unsettling curiosity. you found yourself glancing down the hallway at his door more often than you cared to admit, the memory of the stolen kiss replaying in your mind in a confusing loop.

the thought of venturing to his apartment, of seeking him out after the charged encounter in the washroom, sent a jolt of nervous energy through you.

shame burned in your cheeks at the memory of the heated kiss, a stark contrast to the chilling way he'd left you. yet, a sliver of concern gnawed at you. his absence was unnerving.

finally, curiosity, laced with apprehension, won over your better judgement. you stood outside his door, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. taking a deep breath, you raised your hand and knocked tentatively.

the silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before the door creaked open a sliver. heeseung stood there, his face pale and drawn, dark circles smudging the area under his eyes. he looked… unwell.

"heeseung?" you ventured, surprised by the concern that slipped into your voice. "are you alright? you look terrible."

he didn't answer, just stared at you with an icy indifference that sent a shiver down your spine. the playful glint in his eyes, once so unsettling, was replaced by a hollowness that chilled you to the bone.

heeseung scoffed, a harsh sound that scraped against your nerves. "i'm fine. now leave."

the hostility in his voice stung. the concern you felt evaporated, replaced by a cold anger.

"look," you snapped, "i just came to see if you were okay. but clearly, you don't want the help."

he scoffed, a humourless sound. "of course not. why would i need help from the likes of you?"

he slammed the door shut before you could retort, leaving you standing alone in the hallway, the echo of his harsh words ringing in your ears. shame burned in your cheeks, a confusing mix of hurt and anger churning in your gut.

how dare he act like you were the villain? he was the one who made your life a living nightmare, the one with secrets that sent shivers down your spine.

scowling, you berated yourself for your momentary lapse in judgement. you hated him. you had to.

he was a danger, a monster in disguise. yet, the flicker of something vulnerable you'd glimpsed in his eyes, the way he'd pulled away so abruptly… it was a confusing puzzle you couldn't seem to solve.

heeseung stumbled out of his apartment, a desperate lurch in his gait that spoke volumes of his weakened state. he fumbled with grabbing his keys, nearly dropping them, before finally unlocking the deadbolt.

he needed to get out, anywhere but the suffocating confines of his apartment. he threw a glance down the hallway, hoping for an empty elevator, but his luck had run dry. the red "in use" light mocked him above the metal doors.

he slammed on the button, urgency pushing past the haze in his head. as the doors dinged open, revealing you standing there, his heart sank.

heeseung flinched back, shuffling into the corner like a wounded animal. "get… out," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

"seriously?" you scoffed, following him with your glare. "that makeout session in the club must have been rough if you can't even stand the sight of me now."

heeseung remained silent, the effort of breathing stealing his focus. you rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath about his lack of manners. you turned away, choosing to ignore him.

suddenly, the elevator lurched to a halt, plunging the cramped space into slight darkness. a metallic groan filled the air.

"great," you sighed, reaching for the call button. "looks like we're stuck."

a strained voice answered through the speaker, informing you that a technician would be on their way shortly.

"shortly?" you groaned. "how long is shortly?"

"it's hard to say, ma'am. there's been a minor fault in the system."

you groaned, sinking down onto the floor.

heeseung remained silent, his body trembling. every passing second felt like an eternity. hunger gnawed at him, a primal urge clawing its way to the surface. he gritted his teeth, fighting against the monstrous transformation that threatened to take over.

"hey," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

you shot him a sceptical glance. "what?"

shame burned in his throat, but the need for survival outweighed his pride. "do you… by any chance… have any blood on you?"

you leaned closer, your suspicions finally confirmed.

"about time you admitted it," you cheered, a triumphant smirk creeping across your face. "i knew you weren't normal."

heeseung let out a dark chuckle, a sound devoid of humour. "don't get too excited," he rasped. "you shouldn't be so happy about this."

"oh, come on," you scoffed. "spill it. what are you? some kind of freak?"

a tense silence followed, broken only by the hum of the faulty elevator. finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

"vampire."

shock flooded your system. it was one thing to suspect, another to hear it confirmed.

"no way," you scoffed, refusing to believe it. "vampires don't exist."

but his next words sent a shiver down your spine. "the reason i stopped you at the club… it wasn't because of the kiss. it was the smell of your blood. it was… intoxicating."

"ever since i've met you…" he began, his voice surprisingly soft despite the edge of desperation in it. "the smell of your blood, so sweet, has been driving me crazy. so different from anything i've ever encountered."

he paused, a tremor running through his voice. "for years, i've resisted feeding on humans. morality, you might call it. i rely on animal blood, a poor substitute at best. but your blood…" he took a shaky breath, "it was like a siren song. after that night, i can’t even smell any other type of blood without my stomach churning in disgust."

you listened intently, a strange fascination battling with the fear that coiled in your gut. this wasn't the heeseung you knew, the playful neighbor who reveled in teasing you. this was a creature raw and exposed, driven by a primal need he could barely articulate.

"years," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "years of animal blood, a constant reminder of what i can't have. but then you…" he trailed off, the echo of that night in the club hanging heavy between you.

a shiver ran down your spine, but it wasn't entirely from fear. there was a vulnerability in his confession, a desperate need for something more than just sustenance.

"the challenge," he said, his voice gaining a tinge of bitterness. "the forbidden fruit. maybe that's what drew me in at first. but then…" he hesitated, a flicker of something akin to shame crossing his features.

"then what?" you prompted, your voice barely a whisper. this wasn't how you'd imagined confronting a vampire, yet here you were, drawn into his story.

"don't you see?" heeseung's voice rose, a tremor of desperation colouring it. "you make me weak, vulnerable. yet, your defiance only intensifies the pull. you're everything i shouldn't want, everything i crave."

the revelation sent a jolt through you, a terrifying mix of fear and… something else. the line between predator and prey seemed to blur in the confines of the elevator. you were trapped, yes, but there was also a strange sense of being held hostage by a creature consumed by a desire he both craved and loathed.

the silence that followed heeseung's confession stretched on, thick with a tension that was no longer just fear. you understood him, perhaps better than he understood himself.

taking a deep breath, you surprised yourself by what you said next. "maybe there’s another way."

heeseung's head snapped up, his eyes searching your face in the dim light. "what do you mean?"

"i can help" you held out your wrist, the moonlight filtering through a crack in the elevator door illuminating the delicate veins beneath your skin. "you said you needed blood. maybe i can…

he recoiled as if struck. "no. absolutely not. i won't—"

"heeseung," you interrupted, your voice firm despite the tremor in your heart. "look at me. i'm not scared. in fact…" you hesitated, a blush creeping up your neck. "maybe i… feel the same way."

the air crackled with a new kind of tension. heeseung stared at you, his face a mask of disbelief. "the same way? how?"

"like you said," you whispered, "forbidden. a dangerous attraction." you met his gaze, holding it with a newfound resolve. "if this is what you need, i… i consent."

heeseung's breath hitched. shame flickered in his eyes, quickly replaced by a raw hunger that made your own pulse quicken. "but," he said, his voice low and urgent, "i need more. much more. and from… a different place."

your stomach lurched. "different place?"

a flicker of vulnerability crossed his features. "my apologies," he murmured. "to properly sustain me, i need… the jugular."

the word hung heavy in the air, a primal request that sent a wave of apprehension through you. the image of a vampire sinking its fangs into someone's neck flashed before your eyes. but then, against your better judgment, you found yourself nodding slowly.

a surge of relief, tinged with desperation, washed over heeseung. he moved towards you, a predator closing in on its prey. the closeness brought back a memory - the night in the club bathroom, pressed against the wall, his chilly breath on your neck.

he trapped you against the corner, his body a wall of heat, completely different from the other day where he was freezing.

"please," he rasped, his voice raw with hunger and a strange, desperate plea. "i can't control myself much longer. let me…"

his voice trailed off, replaced by a whimper that both shocked and ignited something within you. this wasn't the cold, calculating heeseung you'd feared. this was a creature on the brink, his monstrous hunger battling with a threadbare shred of control.

"alright," you whispered, the word leaving your lips before you could overthink it.

he didn't hesitate. he leaned in, his movements a blur of desperation. kisses, hot and wet, rained down on your neck, each one a branding iron leaving a fiery mark. you closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain. but it never came.

instead, as his fangs pierced your skin, a jolt of something unexpected surged through you. it wasn't pain, but a warmth that spread through your body like liquid fire. your mind grew hazy, your senses overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure that originated from the very point of contact.

he moaned, a deep, primal sound that echoed in the confined space. "so sweet," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "the best i've ever tasted."

he drank deeply, his body trembling with each intake. you could hear him purring, a low rumble that resonated deep within your core. the pleasure was overwhelming, a dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure that left you gasping for breath. your mind turned hazy, each noise tumbling out of his lips sounding like liquid gold to you.

when he finally pulled away, breathless and satiated, he looked at you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. he languidly licked away the remnants of blood from the wound, his warm tongue sending a jolt of electricity through you.

he didn't stop there. he swiped at the blood that trickled down your collarbone, his tongue making a suggestive swipe against your skin. a dangerous glint flickered in his eyes, and you couldn't help but lean closer, a thrill coursing through you.

the jarring hum of the elevator coming back to life jolted you both from your current position. heeseung, his fangs retracted, quickly pressed the button for your floor. a strange mixture of fear and elation bubbled in your chest, a sensation as unfamiliar as the pleasure you'd just experienced.

he turned to you, his eyes searching your face. "are you alright?" his voice was concerned, a stark contrast to his needy whines just moments ago.

you hesitantly reached for your neck, expecting a throbbing pain. instead, you found smooth, unmarked skin. a gasp escaped your lips. "it… it healed?"

heeseung nodded, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "vampire saliva," he explained casually. "has a few… interesting properties. speeds up healing, for one."

a blush crept up your cheeks as you recalled the wave of euphoria that had washed over you during his feeding. "and…" you stammered, "the pleasure?"

"speaking of pleasure," heeseung's voice dipped to a husky whisper, "vampire saliva has another... side effect."

he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "an aphrodisiac," he breathed, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "especially potent when mixed with a good dose of desire. all thanks to those initial kisses on your neck i had planted.”

"so that's why…" you mumbled, suddenly embarrassed.

the elevator doors slid open, revealing the familiar hallway. you stepped out, feeling oddly energised despite the ordeal. a playful smile tugged at your lips.

"so," you said, turning to face him, your fingers playfully tapping his arm, "how do you plan to repay me for that little… service?"

heeseung raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. before he could answer, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a sweet kiss. pulling away, he grinned, his fangs catching the dim light playfully.

your heart hammered in your chest as he took your hand, his touch sending a spark of heat through you. stepping closer to your apartment, he winked.

"let's discuss repayment options in private, shall we?" he said, his voice dripping with a promise of things to come.

he took your hand again, his touch surprisingly warm despite his vampiric nature. before you could respond, he gently steered you towards your apartment, leaving you breathless and caught in the undercurrent of a dangerous, exhilarating game you'd just begun to play.

as you fumbled with your keys, trying to unlock the door in hurry, he leaned down next to you and murmured, his voice a low, suggestive rumble.

"i'm sure you taste just as good everywhere else."

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[allfearstofallto]

Maids, maids…and even more maids

Being the Maid at a Yandere's Estate

FT: Kamisato Ayato, Childe, Diluc, and Scaramouche

Master Kamisato Ayato is quite the funny man. That's what you'll tell the other maids in quick bits of gossip. He has a surprisingly good type of humor that just falls from his mouth and a very very soft laugh, but of course, you can barely gossip as long as you want to. A ringing of a bell signifies that the master has called for you again, something he's been doing regularly these past few months.

“You're the only one I can trust to clean my quarters,” he told you once before. His quarters being his office and his bedroom. Even though he says that, he never leaves the room while you're cleaning. Rather he's there, pretending to be doing other tasks as you dust his shelves and sweep the floors. You wonder if he thinks that you can't feel his eyes on you? The second you look down, he's looking right at you, practically burning a hole through you with his gaze. It wasn't noticeable at first, but it grew worse the more that he insisted that only you could clean for him personally.

Your daily cleaning for him ends with him patting you on the back, his arms lingering around your waist for a little too long.

“You did incredible, as usual,” he'll praise you, “But don't be shy to come and see me outside of work hours.”

Master Ajax, or Childe as he's referred to by others, is rarely home. You wonder if that humble manor he has in Snezhnaya is just for show. Of course, you seldom get to see it too.

Whispers amongst your fellow coworkers told you that before you were hired, Childe didn't bring anyone with him on his trips. It made you question why you needed to pack your bags every time he was taking a trip to another city, as he insisted that you would come with him and be his personal maid for the duration of it.

He never treated you poorly and never took you anywhere dangerous. You were usually the one just holding down the fort and tidying at whatever inn he decided to stay at. But even you acknowledged the fact that you felt like you were a little too close to your employer. He'd take you out with him, you'd try to trail behind, but he'd make you walk closely at his side. And never once did he correct people when they assumed you were his wife. Actually, if you looked at his face after someone made the mistake, you'd see a smirk forming.

“What's wrong with being married to me?” He would joke, although his smile wasn't reaching his eyes, “I think I'm a pretty good catch. Don't you?”

Master Diluc doesn't leave his office often. The other maids talk in hushed whispers about how they worry that he may be working too much. Seeing him roaming the halls is like seeing a ghost. This also means that he partakes in most of his meals at that desk as well.

He invites you to sit with him one day, saying that he doesn't enjoy eating his meals alone and seeing as he is your boss, you agree. One day turns into nearly every day of your work week, and when asking your coworkers about it, they seem surprised.

“Master Diluc barely speaks to me when I deliver his meals,” one girl says and the other's agree shortly after.

It seems strange to you as you also slowly eat your food across from him. You'd taken to eating your meal as well, even though it wasn't you designated meal time. He assured you that you were still being paid for the moments you sat with him. When you question why you're the only maid that he shares his meals with, a slight grimace crosses his face.

“Does it matter?” He asks you, almost a little too harshly for the gentle Diluc you know, “I'm paying you to spend time with me. Only you.”

Lord Scaramouche who only needs a couple maids. He's rarely home anyways and when he is he doesn't leave his room often, doesn't take to meals, and doesn't call for anything more than a cup of tea. Although even you're surprised when less and less maids show up for their shifts, until it's only you that resides within the walls.

It's rather lonesome when you realize that your only company is now the quiet lord Scaramouche, who barely meets your eyes most days, and when he does speak, he says some form of insult. It's only when you're out for a grocery run that you run into a previous maid of the manor, chatting happily with the first person who'll talk to you.

When asked why they all decided to quit, she tilts her head in complete confusion, “We didn't quit. We were fired, all of us.”

It's a short sentence that confuses you even more. And your walk back to the manor is filled with thoughts. Bringing lord Scaramouche his meal that night, you decided to ask why you were the only help left in his lonesome abode. Assuring him that you're not complaining and that the job isn't too difficult.

“Must you always ask stupid questions?” He spits the words out, “Your presence doesn't bother me like the others so you get to stay. Don't take it for granted.”

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper aftermath

hesseung x reader

adult content featured

it’s been about a week since you let popular playboy and fuckboy lee heeseung take your virginity. and every since then you couldn’t stop thinking about him—mainly his dick.

“just ask him to be your fuck buddy.” your friend shrugged nonchalantly.

“i can’t just do that, can i?” you asked, your fork playing around your food.

“of course you can! pretty sure it won’t be the first time he heard it from a girl.”

your heart sank thinking about the other girls he’s been with and possibly have the same arrangement with. would he want another? would he want you?

his words stuck in your mind, but obviously he only said that because he was so lost in the moment fucking you, right?

you sighed. “i guess i’ll ask the next time i see him.”

and that day came sooner than you thought. literally the next day. but you were least expecting to run into him at the senior citizen center you volunteered at.

“heeseung?” you squeaked, playing uno with a resident as he came up behind her.

“hey,” he greeted your name with a big smile. “surprised to see you here.”

“i could say the same thing for you.” you mumbled and heeseung laughed.

“didn’t think a playboy would like to spend extra time around older people?”

“not really.”

“oh mr heeseung is the best. he flirts with all us women here like it’s his job.” the woman, elena, said with a smile.

“well don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite miss elena.” heeseung replied smoothly.

elena smiled, probably enjoying having a young, handsome guy flirt with her openly.

a resident assistant came by to tell elena it was time to gather in the dining hall as dinner was about to be served.

“you two youngins behave now.” elena pointed with a smile and walked off.

you and heeseung were left alone. “what do you usually do here other than interact with them?” heeseung asked.

“i usually help in the stock room.” you replied.

heeseung held out his arm, signaling for you to go on and he’d follow.

you walked down the long carpeted hallway to the stockroom that was near the kitchen. as usual, the stock room was empty of people, but full of cups, blankets, pillows, and other things usually needed.

“i usually just take notes of what’s low and what can wait to be ordered for a while.” you told heeseung, grabbing a notebook you kept in there.

“what should i do?” heeseung asked, shocking you to the max.

“um, you can refold the blankets and towels? they do get quite messed up with the assistants going in and out at a fast pace.”

heeseung nodded and got right to work while you did the same with your task. you both worked in comfortable silence, each of you taking hidden glances at each other.

more so heeseung taking in sneaky glances of you while you worked. he loved the way your jeans hugged your legs, but even more so, loved how your shirt was the opposite—baggy and worn out. definitely opposite of clothing he seen you in at the party.

the party where he took your virginity. and ever since, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. even when his dick was in another girl, he only thought about you.

let’s say, since you, he’s only been with one other girl and he accidentally moaned out your name.

he’s been to himself since then. he urgently went to his friend and roommate jay, actually terrified that he was only thinking of you.

“either you like her for some reason or you want her as your sex buddy only.” jay stated to heeseung. “it could also be because you took her virginity and you have a virginity or corruption kink, weirdo.”

“don’t call my kinks weird.”

imagine to heeseung’s surprise seeing you here, just after he told himself he would try to work up the courage to ask you if you wanted to fuck again.

heeseung knew most girls had high sex drives, they were just easier at hiding it.

heeseung cleared his throat, you looked up to him with a weird look. “yes?” you asked.

“oh, um, i had a question.” he said with a stutter.

the lee heeseung, nervous? no way.

“go ahead.” you nodded politely.

heeseung took in a deep breath, annoyed with himself as he was being nervous. “would you maybe want to fuck again?”

that caught you off guard. “oh, well—,”

heeseung cut you off, “i mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i mean, i just, i had fun with you at the party you know, and wouldn’t mind doing it again.” he rambled.

you chucked, heeseung looked at you ears going red. “i’m not laughing at you, i promise. i, um, i was gonna sort of ask you the same thing. i told myself the next time i see you i would, but i didn’t expect it to be so soon and here of all places.” you explained.

heeseung smiled. “you want to fuck again?” he whispered.

you nodded. “i was going to ask you to be fuck buddies, since my friend said that was something to ask you.”

heeseung nodded. “absolutely.”

“it’s just,” you began, twirling the pen in your hand nervously, “i want to be your only fuck buddy in the meantime, heeseung.”

“ok.” heeseung agreed instantly. that was no problem as he’s only been able to think about you. even better, if you only wanted to be fuck buddies with him, no other guy had a chance of getting you to bed.

“really?” your eyes lit up and heeseung nodded. “oh, so, um, when do you want to start?”

“now.” heeseung groaned, putting the blanket he was folding down, and stalked over to you.

your eyes were wide with shock, pen still in your hand, the notebook on the shelf next to you. heeseung grabbed your face in his hands, and leaned down to kiss your lips tenderly.

you kissed him back, soon heeseung’s kisses becoming intense with need. he pulled away, but stayed close to where you could feel his breath against your skin.

“have you been playing with your pussy baby? you shook your head, you itching with need. heeseung groaned, “mhm baby, that pussy is gonna be tight for me again.”

heeseung quickly captured your lips again, pushing you against the nearby wall. he removed his lips, as those and his nose traced down any skin visible to him, and he got on his knees to unbutton your jeans.

“mhm, i know i wanted to eat this pussy baby, but i’m so desperate to have my cock buried in you.” he says, his forehead leaning against your lower belly, his face right in front of your jean covered lower half.

your hand ran through his hair, a smile coming to his face as he pulled your jeans down to your ankles, along with your underwear.

he teased your cunt with his tongue, but quickly got up, cursing to himself for that. you all were in a public place and could be caught anytime.

“lean down baby.” heeseung helped position your body to where is was now leaning against a shelf for support. your chest and head rested against the towels there, as heeseung grabbed your bare ass in his hands.

“heeseung,” you moaned as his finger traced your folds and clit.

“shh baby, we can’t get caught, okay?” heeseung cooed, grabbing your hair in his hands for a makeshift ponytail.

he aligned his tip with your cunt, and slowly pushed in. again, he was met with resistance and tightness, but his mouth dropped open so wide at the pleasurable feeling of you clamping around him.

he had to hold in his moans as well. you buried your face into the towels, keeping the noises from your mouth muffled.

heeseung slowly inched into you, enjoying the way you gripped him, welcoming him in. he began rocking and thrusting, your pussy making noises for him, wetness covering him.

“fuck, i love this pussy.” he moaned quietly, and picked up his pace with the thrusts. the shelves began rocking with your bodies as well, your hands gripping the other items next to you.

heeseung could still hear your muffled moans through the towels, and even got turned on from that.

his hand went down to play with your clit, your orgasm coming close.

he leaned over your back, his body covering yours. his breath tickling against your neck, as he attached his lips to your shoulder and began sucking.

his pace never faltered. “i’m close baby.” heeseung sighed and you nodded in agreement, not trusting your own voice.

soon, you both came with each other, heeseung forgetting to pull out. “fuck, baby, i didn’t pull out.” he groaned against your shoulder.

“s’fine, on the pill.” you mumbled in relief. heeseung stayed buried in you, dick still hard, as he peppered kissed over your neck, shoulder, and cheek. then, he grabbed your chin to lean your head back so his lips met yours for a few pecks.

“so good for me.” he sighed and kissed your ear, before leaning up from you, and removing himself from your pussy.

heeseung helped you clean up and pull your pants and underwear up. you now felt embarrassed at just having sex in public with heeseung.

have you had no shame?

heeseung pulled you in for a kiss. “can’t wait to get you back home to really treat your body right.”

you smiled, “can we not do it in jay’s bed this time?”

[yamumsyadadd]

Sometimes all you need is a little love

At 5, you were loved. Your mum and dad adored you. Everything was about you and your parents.  They worked hard, and in return you got to fulfil your dream of being a footballer. 

At 8, things started to change. Sundays that were usually filled with church in the morning, and Barcelona games in the afternoon slowly started to disappear. 

Your mum and dad were fighting. She was looking frail, unwell, a shell of herself. He looked angry, distant, with marks on his arms, coming home smelling like cigarettes and flowers. It was a weird smell, it would linger in the air for hours to come. 

Gone were the days when they would both come to your football. It was one or the other, sometimes even none of them. 

At 10, you found her. Hanging. You just sat there, watching her. Eventually going to the neighbours you thought you knew. Turns out they moved out and there was a new family. An older lady, Eli. She let you come inside and called for help while distracting you with cookies and her white fluffy dog. 

From that day, things changed. Your father’s love became less and less. His violence and drinking became more. He had a new girlfriend every other month. Barely lasting the entire calendar month. 

By age 12, La Masia came knocking. A full scholarship was on offer. It was your dream. Something you and your parents had worked hard for, together. Expect now it was just you. Forging your dad’s signature, you dropped the forms back off. Transferring to their academy the week later. 

La Masia was hard. Harder than you expect. Maybe it was because things at home were worse than ever before, your dad lost his job, the random woman continued however now there was random men added into it. Home wasn’t a safe place for you or anyone in that case. 

At 14, things hit an all time low, bruises and marks were becoming harder to hide with your promotion to the Barca B team. They were all so close to each other, hanging out after training, getting food or going shopping, their weekends were all spent together. But not with you. As much as they tried you shielded away from it. School and football were the two things that matter - there was no time for anything else, no time to worry about anything else. 

The closest thing you had to a parent was the lady across the hall, every few days there would be a plate of food at the front door when you arrived home. On Sundays it was a bigger meal, you’d divvy it out so it would last a few extra days. The limited money you did have was given to your dad, you’d keep some of it but it wasn’t enough for the bus fare and food. It was one of the other. 

Every morning you would make the one hour trek from your home in Mollet del Vallès, using that time to do your homework, study plays or rewatch games, sometimes even catching a few more minutes of sleep. Every evening, after training you’d stay and help pack away the equipment, sometime just relishing in the warmth of the facility, the endless hot water, the feeling of safety. 

One night, after missing the last bus, you hide in a supply closet. Knowing there was no way you’d get home that night, you huddled around the spare clothes and clean towels. It oddly was one of the best sleeps you’d had in years. The constant security that would walk around the facility made you feel safe. 

After that initial night, there were many more nights of sleeping at the facility. Was it the best idea? Probably not, but it was the safest, and the warmest. 

15 was when things really changed. At some point, your dad just stopped coming home. He’d be gone for days at a time. This time though, he was gone for almost three weeks. You bloomed in the silence. The apartment was clean, airy, in contrast to the dark, stuffy air that usually resides. 

On Christmas Eve things came to ahead. There wasn’t much food left. A few eggs, some bread and some cereal. No milk, vegetables or anything fresh. Biting the bullet, you made your way across the hall to the older ladies door. She had told you before that if you needed anything, to just knock. So you did, rocking back and forth on your heels, you were shocked when the door swung open and none other than Alexia Putellas, captain of the Barcelona Women’s team, 2 time Ballon D’Or winner, was standing there with a smile on her face. 

“Hola pequeña, are you ok?”

“Oh, um, hola? Is Eli here?” 

“Si, come in.” You stood there for a moment, staring at her, “mami a pequeña is here for you!” Eli, the nice, caring older woman was Alexia Putellas mother. Of course she was. 

“Neña! To what do I owe this visit?” 

“I am very sorry to interrupt and be rude, but I was wondering if you had any milk I could please have? My papi has gone away for a bit and forgot to leave some money.” 

“You’re alone? You’re no older than 16?” A smaller but almost identical person chimed in. 

“Si. I am 15”. A shy nod was all you could muster, the energy you previously had disappeared. 

“Well where did he go? Are you alone for Christmas?” 

“Uh, um a work trip? Si, si, a work trip! He will be back at some point, I’m sure.” It was a lie, a terrible horrible lie and everyone in that room knew. All three older women shared a look. 

“Here is some milk Nena. Do you want to stay for dinner?” 

“No no that’s okay. Thank you for the milk, I will give you money when I get some!” 

“Nonsense dear. It’s just milk.” 

Silently you grabbed the milk and started to walk towards the door, leaving the three women staring at you. Eli’s eyes expressed sadness, Alexia’s were confused, she knew you from somewhere but she couldn’t place it, Alba was bewildered, she remembered being 15 and there was no way in hell that Eli would’ve left her home alone, but especially not over the holiday period. 

“She is a good girl. She studies hard, she’s at La Masia. Always very polite but something is off in the house.” 

Alexia’s head whipped around, “she’s at the academy?” Eli nodded, “how does she get there? it’s a 40 minute drive and she’s not old enough?” 

“I don’t know Alexia, tonight was the most she’s spoken to me since she came asking for the ambulance when her mami died.” 

“That was her?” A nod was all alexia received. For the rest of the night they were all silent, you went to bed with a small amount of food in your stomach. The 8 pieces of French toast were enough to get you through until the farmers market opened on the 26th. 

A dread washed over you the following afternoon when there was a knock at the front door. Opening it slowly, and only half showing your face, Alexia and Alba (you learnt her name after googling Alexia), were standing there. 

“Hola pequeña. Mami asked if you and your papi wanted to join us for dinner?” Alexia voice was firm, almost as if there wasn’t room for you to say no. 

“Um, sure. My papi isn’t back yet, but what time does she want us?” 

“Now-“

“An hour-“ both girls spoke at the same time. Alba wanting to give you time to do whatever you needed, but alexia wanted you father to show himself. Unbeknownst to you, she had reached out to the La Masia staff and a few of the younger girls. 

Vicky and Martina had told her the little information that they knew. You were young, talented and a hard worker. You’d catch the bus to and from training, never really talking to anyone and certainly never hanging out with them. They’d offered to help you with your homework, Vicky realising very quickly that you were both in the same grade despite you being two years younger. Both Vicky and Martina felt that there was something off, never seeing your father or anyone supporting you at games, not even at the international friendly with the under 17s that you’d been called up too. 

“Okay? How about half an hour?” 

“That works. See you soon pequeña!” Alba grabbed her older sisters arm, pulling her away from the door. You slid down the back of yours once it was firmly closed. You needed to think of the perfect lie. Maybe you could say he was too tired, or stuck in traffic. No that wouldn’t work, if he was stuck in traffic they’d wait. The truth wasn’t an option. There’s no way you could just blurt out that you didn’t know where he was. 

The dinner was uncomfortable, the food was delicious but the unasked questions were making a lot of tension. You didn’t miss the way Alba and Eli continued to glance at you, or how their eyes went wide when you asked for more. This definitely cemented that something was wrong. 

The loud clattering of Alexia’s fork and knife, stopped you from shoveling more food in your mouth. 

“This is ridiculous. Pequeña, where is your papi?” 

“Don’t know.” You spoke nonchalantly, putting more food into your mouth. Confused looks where thrown around. Eli’s head slowly reaching for yours and taking the fork, “sweetheart, what do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I don’t know. He could be stuck at work, or in traffic or asleep.” I shrugged. It was a semi decent lie. 

“Does he leave for long periods often?” 

“No. It’s usually just a few days.” 

“Where does he go?” 

To get high, to fuck hookers, to steal, “work trips.” 

Thankfully the subject was dropped as Eli gave you back your fork. It didn’t feel like Christmas, no gifts were exchanged, no decorations or Christmas movies. It felt like a Sunday after church, all that was left was a trip to Camp Nou to watch a game but that wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever again. 

Eli sent you home when a lot of leftovers, ignoring the comments from her own two daughters that they would’ve liked to have some too. It was enough food for at least a month. You’d eaten plenty at dinner so the need for food tomorrow would be less. 

The following week was a blur. There was only two training sessions and school was off until after the New Year. Your father had yet to make a reappearance and due to the holidays, you were hiding in the house so you wouldn’t have to see any three of the Putellas women and answer questions. 

It worked, for three weeks, until the night you had planned to sleep in the same storage room as usual. Alexia appeared, fresh out of the shower. 

“Pequeña? What are you still doing here? It’s late.” 

“I lost track of time. I was studying.” 

“How are you getting home? Is your papi coming?” 

“No. I’m catching the bus.” You felt guilty lying to her, but it was the best option. No one would get hurt this way. 

“Let me drive you home. It’s late and you really shouldn’t be catching the bus.” 

Before you could argued, she’d grabbed the straps of your bag, dragging it and you along to her car. It was an awkward 40 minutes. Her car was much more comfortable than the bus, warmer and safer. You were still on high alert, especially when she was asking you questions. 

For the past five years you didn’t let anyone get close. It was easier that way. You didn’t have to explain the tiredness that was evident on your face, the random bruises that happened, the obvious weightless from the lack of food. 

From that moment on you silently agreed to keep everyone further way. You had to be more careful, no more roaming the halls after training. No more asking Eli for milk, or bread, or anything. Leaving extra early in the morning or as soon as training ended. No more being vulnerable. 

The day of your 16th birthday was supposed to be a good one. However your father had other plans. You’d been training with the senior team due to some injuries and then needing players, Jona had told you last night he would play you after halftime. A senior debut on your 16th birthday. 

That night you’d come home so incredibly happy only for it to come crashing down when your extremely intoxicated father decided to start a fight over the lack of money. He didn’t stop hitting you for what felt like hours. You weren’t sure if you passed out from the pain or from the exhaustion but you knew the following day it would be hell. 

The house was littered with used needles, smashed and empty bottles, and it smelt of cigarettes and stale booze. Your arms and legs were covered in bruises as well as a shiner on your face. That one would be the hardest to cover. it took an hour and large amount of makeup before you were confident about leaving the house. The bruise was mostly covered. You didn’t think it was that obvious though. The looks you received on the bus, and even as you walked through the halls, didn’t make you question your makeup job. 

True to his word, jona put you on in the 75th minute, subbing Salma off. It was electrifying, a rush you’d never felt before. Then game ended with a win, of course, there was a lot of praise from the older girls. Mario was incredibly impressed and offered to work with you more if you were interested. Something you immediately said yes too. Your bubble was burst when Alexia came over to tell her Eli was there and wanted to see you. 

The moment you were within arms reach of Eli, she could tell something was wrong. So could Alexia’s girlfriend, Olga, who she had just introduced you too. After chatting a bit more, Eli demanded she would take you home, making you hurry to gather your belongings in the locker room, forgoing a shower as you didn’t bring makeup to re-cover the bruise on your face. 

“Olga you need to help her with makeup.” Alba joked before hugging her sister goodbye. Olga and Eli shared a concerned looked. 

“Why is she wearing make up?” 

“Mami she’s 16. Teenagers wear makeup all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.” Eli shook her head, there was something wrong but she didn’t know what or how to ask you. 

“Ale, keep an eye on her yeah?”

“Olga she’s fine. She’s just a teenager.” Olga’s eyes pleaded with her, “si fine. I will watch over her.” 

Two weeks later things came crashing down horribly. You’d been moved into the senior squad officially, that came with perks. More money was the main one. It would only be a few months until you’d officially graduate high school, that meant you could pick up a part time job as well as football. What you didn’t account for was your father. 

When you walked in the door you were greeted with a random lady and a little boy, no older than 3, your father was very quickly shoving things into boxes and taping them up. 

“What’s going on?” Neither of the adults spared a glance at you. 

“I’m leaving. Thea and I are moving to Madrid.” 

“I can’t leave papi! The season is still going and i haven’t finished school yet!” 

“Good thing you weren’t invited then.” The last scoffed, flipping her son to the other hip. Your eyes were wide. Not believing what you were hearing. 

“Tomorrow, the moving truck will be here. You need to be gone by then.” 

“Wait! Where will I go? You can’t leave me here!” You yelled after them as they left the apartment. No longer caring who heard or who saw. 

“You’re not my problem anymore. I couldn’t care less about what you do or don’t do.” He turned to leave, “you could do the world a favour and hang yourself like your mother did.” With that he was gone. The apartment was mostly empty. 

You found the two biggest bags that you could carry. Filling one with all your football stuff, the other with you clothes, the few jumpers of your mothers that you had left, a sleeping bag and pillow. In your school backpack you packed your laptop and all the school work, plus your important documents (birth certificate, photo IDs, passport.) 

Though you had no idea where you would go, you knew you’d figure it out. What you didn’t account for was Eli. of course she would notice the moving vans, and the lack of you. 

Every second night you’d leave the training facility, set on finding somewhere that was semi safe to sleep. Even though it was the start of February, you knew the beach would be ok. There was enough light to keep you safe, you also had a little knife you stole from your father along time ago. 

The last morning before it all went to shit, you were sitting with your bags, still in your sleeping bag, watching the sunrise. Barcelona was quiet at this time of the morning. A few runners or cyclists around but other than that it was peaceful. 

“Pequeña? What are you doing here so early?” A semi familiar face dropped in front of you, startling you out of your thoughts. Unable to talk, you just stared at her. “I’m Olga, Alexia’s girlfriend. We met a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember?” 

I nodded, she continued on, “what are you doing here? Did you sleep here?”

“What? No! No I just like coming here in the mornings!” I hurried to get up, quickly shoving my things back into my bags, that’s when the knife dropped on the sand, right in front of Olga. We both stopped and stared at it. 

“Pequeña-“

“I better go. Enjoy your day.” I quickly picked it up and all but ran towards the bus stop. My thoughts were spiralling. She was going to tell Alexia. I wouldn’t be allowed to play, I’d be sent away somewhere else. 

Training was hell. No matter how much you tried to avoid Irene, Marta or Alexia they always appeared. It didn’t seem that Olga had told Alexia or that anyone else knew but it was only a matter of time. All you needed was a few weeks, just to get through the Copa de la Reina final and then you could figure it out. 

Thankfully the week went fast and the game on the weekend was a success. There were no more run ins with Olga, or any of the captains of the team. You went as far to complete ignore Eli, Alba and Olga after the game. Quickly running into the locker room and showering before anyone else. 

It was harder to hide in the facility after home games. It was busy with trainers, medical staff, admin staff, basically everyone but you figured it out. It was a restless sleep, the close call with Olga playing in your mind on repeat. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eli had mentioned it to Alexia at their usual family dinner post match. 

“Nena moved.” 

“To where?” Both Alba and Alexia’s head shot up. 

“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything. I heard her papi say Madrid. I’m assuming she isn’t joining since she’s still playing here.” 

“I’ll find out.” Olga knew in that moment she needed to come clean about finding you on the beach. Clearly you didn’t have somewhere safe to stay. Later that night, when it was just her and Alexia cuddled in their bed she did just that. 

“I saw Nena at the beach the other morning.” 

“Likely place for her to be. She has mentioned loving the beach in the past.” Alexia dismissed what Olga was saying, not particularly understanding why that was important. 

“No ale. I think she slept there. She had a sleeping bag and heaps of stuff.” 

Silence encapsulated the couple. “I’ll deal with it.” was all the captain said before rolling over and going to sleep. Expect, she didn’t sleep. She played through every interaction she’d had with you, every imagine of you in her mind. You looked tired, the light behind your eyes was gone, you had fully retreated back into your shell, barely talking at training or games, only answering questions when directly asked. 

Something was definitely wrong, very very wrong. Enlisting the help of Irene and Marta and Olga, they would find out exactly how wrong it was. 

It was evident when you came into training that you hadn’t slept, the truth was that the beach no longer felt safe. Not after that creepy man was watching you. Staying at the facility every night wasn’t an option, neither was staying with a teammate. So you stay at the train station all night. It was relatively safe, but the thought of that man kept you awake. 

You’d gotten half way through the day when you snapped. Usually you’d try and stick to Caro or Keira’s sides. Caro because she was quiet and Keira because she couldn’t exactly understand you and you couldn’t understand her. Unfortunately the gym groups were assigned differently today, meaning you got stuck with Mapi, Pina, Patri and Cata. The group of people you hated being around the most. There was never a quiet moment, they were always loud. So incredibly loud. 

It was after Mapi had ruffled your hair for the third time that you mumbled for her to stop. 

“We can’t hear you gallina. Speak up.” Patri laughed. 

“I said, don’t touch me. And don’t call me gallina.” Your patience was thinning, and fast. 

“Cheer up gallina. We are just playing.” Mapi went to ruffle your hair again, your hands landing on her chest and shoving her back into Cata. 

“I said don’t fucking touch me Maria!” Everyone stopped, turning in horror to see the scene unfold. Tears welled in your eyes, you bolted as fast as you could. 

“Nena-“ Ingrid tried to grab your wrists but you dodged her. 

Alexia, Irene and Marta all stopped what they were doing. It was extremely unlike you to be so aggressive and rude. No matter how shy you were, you always used your manners. They all shared a look before following you to the locker room. 

You rushed through the locker room trying to get your bags packed as fast as possible. You had no idea where you would go, but you needed to get out of here. Far away from the sympathetic looks of your teammates. You were so far in your own head that you didn’t hear the cleats on the floor or the door to the locker opening. 

“Nena? What’s wrong?” Irene’s hand on your shoulder startled you. 

“Nothing I’m fine. I need to go.” You shrugged her hand off you, putting your backpack on and grabbing your duffle that contained your pillow and sleeping bag. 

“Please let us help Nena. We want to help you but we can’t if you don’t let us.” Marta spoke up next, as you looked up you saw that Alexia was standing between you and the door, the only route out of the locker room. 

“Please move. I want to go home.” 

“Home? Where is that Nena? It’s not in Mollet del Vallès. I know that much.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath, yelling at your captains was a horrible idea, truly horrible. Even in this mental state you knew that, “I do not want to be rude Alexia, but it’s none of your business. I come here, I train, I play, I do as I am told, I don’t make trouble or do anything wrong. Please let me leave.” 

Alexia looked troubled. You needed help, that much was clear, but you were right. You did everything that was asked of you, never complaining or whining about it. She looked to Irene for help, Irene simply nodded and alexia moved. 

“If you need help, somewhere to stay, you have my address and you know where Mami is.” 

A curt nod was all she received and then you were gone. As fast as you could walk without causing any attention to yourself. You spent the next few hours walking around. When it was dark and late, the train station was where you headed. It wasn’t until you were comfy that you realised you grabbed the wrong bag. You left your sleeping bag and more importantly your phone charger at the training facility. There wasn’t much that could be done now, you just had to wait it out. 

As you walked into training, you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. You were late, never have you been late before. The lack of proper sleep, nutrition and your body always on high alert was getting to you. By the end of training you were exhausted. Barely having the energy to walk into the locker rooms to shower. Usually when someone was late without giving a proper warning, they’d run laps. No one told you to run laps so you didn’t. 

A few days later, at the beach, Olga saw you again. This time you looked worse than before. She made her way to a local bakery, getting water, coffee and something for you to eat before making her way back towards you and hoping you wouldn’t run off. 

“¿Niña? Can I sit with you?” She startled you, that much was obvious but you nodded and she handed over everything she bought. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I like the beach.” 

“You’re sleeping here?” She could tell you were scared, it took a while for you to reply. 

“Only sometimes.” 

Olga nodded, the silence settling over the both of you. “Let me take you to training?” 

The drive seem to take forever. It was uncomfortable, Olga wanted to get more information out of you, you wanted nothing more then to be swallowed into a black hole. 

“Niña? If you don’t have anywhere safe and warm to stay, please come to mine and Ale’s? We won’t be mad, or disappointed. We want to help you. Okay?” 

You gave her a small nod, moving to wipe your tears and get out of the car. Unbeknownst to the both of you, Alexia was in her own car a few metres away watching the whole thing. 

It took a day for Alexia to coax all the information out of Olga but when she finally did, she was heartbroken. The thing she had hoped wasn’t true, was in fact true. You were living on the street. Sleeping wherever you could, your papi had left you to fend for yourself. It’s not that you were doing a horrible job at it, but it was obvious you weren’t eating or sleeping enough. 

The night of the El Classico is when things went truly horrible. Alexia had told Irene, Mapi and Marta what had happened but any time they tried to talk to you, you literally ran away.

The streets of Barcelona were well and truly alive. The Madrid fans had left the Johan feeling annoyed, angry and disappointed. Anyone would when their team lost 7-0. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to sleep on the beach that night, but there truly wasn’t anywhere else. The train station would’ve been worse, the facility wouldn’t be quiet until after midnight, and there was no way you’d go to a teammates house. 

You’d only just drifted to sleep when you heard the group of guys approaching. They were drunk, that much was obvious. Pretty quickly you woke yourself up, but you didn’t dare to move. Maybe they would just keep walking. Your back was facing the sea, and them but as soon as they laid their hands on you, you turned around. 

“Oye, it’s the Barca puta.”

“You’re the reason we lost.”

“We should break her legs!” 

The fear set it. As soon as the hits started, they ended. Not only had they assaulted you, but they had stolen your school bag that contained your laptop, water bottle and phone charger. It look a while for the pain to become tolerable. you could recognise that you were bleeding, your ribs hurt, along with your arm, head and leg. You were scared and alone. 

Abandoning the beach, you made your way to the one place you could think of. The two women who had urged you time and time again to let them help you, you had refused but right now you needed it more than anything. With the help of your phone maps, you managed to get to their apartment. It took a lot longer than it should have, having to stop every now and then to take deep breaths when the pain was too bad. 

You weakly raised your fist to the door, the energy was zapped out of you. It felt like forever before someone answered. 

“Hol- holy fuck. Alexia! Come here neña. Let me help you. ALEXIA!” Olga answered the door, annoyed that someone was knocking so late at night. The minute she opened it, she wanted to cry. You were stood there, bloodied and bruised. Seemingly out of it, looking so small and frightened. 

She starting leading you to the kitchen when alexia finally came, “what? Oh my god, pequena! What happened?” 

“Hurt.”

“Where hurts neña?”

“Head bleeding… arm broken, I think… maybe ribs… leg too. Stole my school bag.” Alexia was freaking out, the usual calm, stoic captain was on the verge of tears. 

“We need to call the police Olga! And mami and Irene and-“

“Ale stop. Neña, drink this yes? Alexia is going to get the first aid from the bathroom and we are going to clean you up. We will need to take you to the hospital, but that can wait for a few minutes.” She gave alexia a pointed look while she opened the water bottle and helped you drink. 

Their apartment was soft. Very homey and not clinical like you imagined. There were photos of Alexia and her family, Olga and hers, then of them both. There were plants scattered around, a few awards here and there but not many, the one thing that seemed out of place was the dog bed and toys. 

“Dog?” Olga’s eyes followed yours, confused as to what you were asking. 

“Nala. She died last year but we haven’t been able to get rid of her things.”

“Sorry”. Alexia arrived back with the first aid kit, phone to her ear and a lot less panicked but a lot more mad. that stressed you out, Olga picking up on it straight away. Things moved fast from that point. Alexia and Olga cleaned you up the best they could but ultimately decided that you needed the hospital. It was all a blur. One minute you were in their apartment, the next you were in a hospital gown sitting in a room. 

Alexia was non stop pacing, you sat there, wide eyed waiting for her to say something. 

“You can say it.” You whispered. 

Both girls stopped and looked at you confused, “say what pequena?” 

“I told you so’ or ‘you should’ve let me help’, whatever you have planned just say it.” You could no longer look at them, staring down at the floor. You missed the look of heartbreak sweep across both their faces. 

“No no pequena. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. There’s no ‘I told you so’ to be said. You came to use when you needed help, we are here now to help that’s all that matters. Okay?” Alexia slowly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. 

“I’m sorry.” That was it. All three of you were holding each other crying. Time seemed to blend into one second. You got stitches in your eyebrow and on your leg, your arm was in fact broken and a cast was put on. The doctor seemed to talk and talk, none of the words making any sense. It was until you saw the two police officers standing outside that you seemed to snap out of it. 

The doctor left the room, seemingly to talk to the police officers and give them a run down. Olga noticed how on edge you were very quickly. 

“Hey, neña, they are only here to ask what happened okay? You aren’t in any trouble.” 

You stood up quickly, grabbing the bag with your blood stained clothes, “no I need to go. This was a mistake.” 

“Go where pequena?” 

“They are going to take me away! I don’t have anywhere to live Alexia! Papi left. He got rid of the house. Mami is dead. I have no where so I’m going to leave before they can take me.” 

“Neña no.” Olga moved to block the door. She is small. You could take her, you thought. “You’re staying with us. They aren’t going to take you because you have a home, with us. You will stay as long as needed.” 

Alexia and Olga hadn’t exactly had the conversation about it, but they both seemed to be able to read each other’s minds. They were going to take care of you, love you like your parents should have. Sure you’re 16, almost an adult. But everyone needs a parental figure, no matter the age. 

“No. You two have your own life, I’m not your responsibility. I can take care of myself, I have been for years.” 

“But you can’t neña. You can’t get an apartment, or a phone plan, or your drivers licence. If you’ll let us, we will take care of you.” You were considering it, really considering it. Having a proper bed, proper meals, somewhere safe? It sounded like heaven. 

“It won’t be easy pequena, it’ll be hard. For all of us. We’ll have to learn to trust each other, and learn how to live with each other but it’ll be worth it. You can decorate the room however you want, we will buy you whatever you need.” 

Before the could continue, the police came in. It took a while to answer all their questions. You could see Alexia and Olga holding hands tightly, wincing slightly when you go into detail. 

“What about my school bag? It has all my school stuff and my laptop?” 

“We will look for it, but there’s no promises it’ll be found. Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” 

“With Alexia and Olga.” You could visibly feel the tension leave both the women. The officers asked Alexia and Olga to step out with them to talk, you took a few moments to gather your thoughts. How had things changed so much. You were just a kid, yet you were forced to look after yourself like you were an adult. You wanted to be vulnerable, to have someone take care of you. Sometimes all we need is a little love. 

Maybe in time, things would get better. 

[darkartsanna]

Hurricane Helene Relief Funds to those affected in the Southern Regions *will edit as I find more, please reblog as usual and check back for updates (Liking doesn't circulate it and isn't helpful)* *9/30 Has been edited! (Also, I think whenever I edit this it doesn't update the versions already reblogged?) ORGANIZATIONS American Red Cross FEMA Disaster Assistance Improvement Program Warmline Directory (Mental health resource) AKC Pet Reunite Food Not Bombs Operation BBQ Relief Partnership for Inclusive Disaster Strategies & Roll Mobility Operation Air Drop GEORGIA State and Local Level Referrals - (60 Organizations Listed) Emergency Shelter Locations Animal League

NORTH CAROLINA Brother Wolf Animal Rescue Asheville Survival Program Homeward Bound State and Local Level Referrals Beloved Asheville Rural Community funds CLT Mutual Aid Fundraiser for a NC resident to deliver food to affected areas Mutual Aid Disaster Relief Animal Disaster Relief Coalition Mutual Aid Disaster Groups

Special Note: There are 2 Wifi Stations now open for public use. The locations are: SPOT 1: DoubleTree Hilton Downtown 199 Haywood SSID: SORTOR STARLINK Pass: ncstrong SPOT 2: Asheville Shelter Ferguson Building 340 Victoria Rd SSID: HALL STARLINK Pass: ncstrong SOUTH CAROLINA State and Local Level Referrals (44 Organizations Listed) FLORIDA Volunteer Florida Disaster Fund FootPrint Project State and Local Level Referrals - (52 Organizations Listed)

TENNESSEE HellBender Harm Reduction

More supplies to consider donating in hurricane impacted areas:

Bottled water, potentially water filters

Personal hygiene items: wipes, tampons/pads/other menstrual products, hand sanitizer, mosquito spray, laundry detergent, toilet paper, diapers, and especially any products safe for sensitive skin

Medications like ibuprofen/tylenol, yeast infection medicine, cold & cough medicine, any diabetic meds that can be safely shared, etc

Individually wrapped low to no prep food items, baby formula, and Gatorade

Pet Food

Sunscreen

Heavy duty bags, Duffel bags, backpacks, and trash bags, 5 gallon buckets, coolers

Fans, dehumidifiers, moisture sensors, generators, gas, gas canisters, solar charging items, portable battery banks, first aid kits

Chainsaws, crowbars, hammers, air filters, respirators, 2×4 planks, bleach, roofing nails, heavy duty gloves, and waders.

Books, Board Games or other non electric activities for children

Double check before donating items, especially if your local drive is accepting donations of particular products and can distribute the more specialized ones where they're needed.

[onlymingyus]

Birds of a Feather

pairing; joshua hong x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), fluff, crack

summary; You and Shua work together on a petition to get rid of the bird kid and then you fall in love.

warnings; university au, alcohol, drug use (marijuana), food/drink, betting, bad jokes, borrowed memes, simp!joshua, jealousy/possessive nature, irresponsible use of a hot tub and a friend’s personal space, slight dom!joshua, mild dom/sub dynamics, pet names, sex health/birth control talk, unprotected sex, breast play, pinning/man handling, dirty talk, oral (m & f receiving/giving), 69, scratching, crying, size kink implied, exhibition kink implied – as always I’m sure there is something I’ve left out.

w/c; 14.3k and some change

a/n; first of all thank you so so much to my dear @onlyhuis for proofreading this and thank you for literally being the reason it exists. this is based on a true story – names have been changed for privacy and it’s not completely true but bird kid should find a new place to live. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me come up with an amazing title, also without june, @highvern, @shuadotcom, and @horanghater just know this fic would have sucked majorly. thank you so much for helping me figure out my shit and adding so much to this.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Joshua rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he leans his forearm against his door, looking down at the cute girl standing in his dorm room. You were holding a clipboard and had a look somewhere between serious and annoyed on your face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

You hadn’t had the chance to meet every single resident in your hall but today you were making some very interesting discoveries. For example, apparently Eros lived just five doors down and he slept in late. Clearing your throat, you look down at your clipboard in an attempt to hide how shy his gaze is making you feel.

“I’m Y/N; would you sign my petition to evict the bird kid? I know that sounds harsh but just to get him to, like, get his own place off campus with his bird.”

His lips pulling up into a small grin, Joshua watches you start to ramble about your cause as you tap your pen against the paper attached to the clipboard. It seems you have several signatures so far. He had heard about this bird kid and he had also heard the bird in question several times.

“Sure, I’ll sign it. Anything to get him to stop letting the damn thing use the water fountain as a bird bath.”

Joshua watches as your eyes lift towards him again as he agrees with you. With the clipboard securely in his hands, you scoff in agreement, lifting your hands to express how important your argument was.

“Right?! It’s gross. I drink out of that fountain. I mean, I used to...“

Nodding, Joshua signs his name and offers you back the clipboard before resting his shoulder on his door frame. You watch his smile pull to one side before he furrows his brows and gestures over his shoulder.

“My roommate is still passed the fuck out but I’m sure he will sign too. Swing back by later and catch him when he’s actually breathing.”

Pulling the clipboard to your chest, you press your lips together, trying to keep your eyes on the man’s face even as you feel them being drawn to where his t-shirt was straining around his bicep. Clearing your throat, you lean back a bit and glance down at his name, whispering it to yourself before nodding and daring to look back up to find Joshua still watching you.

“Okay… I’ll do that, Joshua.”

Turning towards the next door, you pull your eyes from his handsome face even as Joshua leans out of his doorway to watch you, lifting his hand to wave.

“Good luck with your petition, Y/N. See you later.”

Groaning into his drool soaked pillow, Lee Chan forces himself to turn over and look towards his roommate, who was standing in the doorframe watching the hallway. He liked Joshua; if anything, the man was more like a brother than a roommate at this point but he was talking far too loudly for a Saturday morning.

“That has to be a girl if you are acting like a simp this early.”

Rolling his eyes, Joshua shuts the door behind him, turning towards the younger man and shooting him a look before reaching for one of the bottles of water and tossing it towards him. Despite usually having great eye to hand coordination, Chan hisses in pain when the bottle manages to meet his chest instead of in his hands.

“And? Your point? Drink your water; I’m sure you have one hell of a headache.”

Chan wasn’t going to argue with Joshua on that point. He did have a headache that could rival all other headaches. He couldn’t remember much of the night after their friend Seungcheol had shown him where the punch bowl was and challenged him to a “drink off.”

Reaching for the pain medicine on his nightstand, Chan groans, trying to open the bottle as Joshua watches, only to sigh and take it from his hands, doing it for him. Muttering a thanks, Chan takes the bottle back, leaning back onto his bed to take the medicine, looking up at the ceiling.

“Who was the girl?”

Pursing his lips, Joshua falls back on his bed, trying to hide the small smile on his lips, thinking about the short interaction with you and how cute you had been. It wasn’t like anything had even happened or that there would be anything that would come from it but it was nice meeting a new neighbor so to speak.

“Uh, she said her name was Y/N. She’ll be back around later. Told her you’d sign her petition.”

Chan’s brows furrow at Joshua’s words as he lifts his hand to wipe at his mouth, water starting to run down towards his chin.

“What? Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s not that big of a deal and you’ll agree with it. It’s about that dude who has a bird. Something about getting him to move off campus with it.”

Making a face at the mention of the bird, Chan feels his headache behind his eyes, even thinking about the squawking that could be heard late at night and early in the mornings.

“You’re right. I’ll fucking sign it. I’ll forge names. I’ll help the son of a bitch move.”

Taking back your clipboard once more, you smile at the girl who doesn’t seem to know when to stop talking. You were happy she agreed with your cause but you didn’t need to know every other complaint she had filed over the past month with Seungkwan, the RA.

“Totally, I get it.” Gesturing with your thumb over your shoulder, you offer her one last tired smile, “I’m gonna head back the other way, I have a couple of places I need to get on the way back to my room.”

“Yeah, sure. Oh, Y/N! When you talk to Seungkwan, you know when you file the petition... mention the water pressure again.”

Groaning under your breath, you just give her a thumbs up, hearing her yell bye at your back as you scurry off in the opposite direction. The more distance you put between her and you, the air feels lighter until you look back at your clipboard and read Joshua’s name, seeing your little star next to his name.

You weren’t sure why this man was making you so nervous – besides his good looks – but as you stood in front of his room, reading over the whiteboard attached to it, you blew out a breath. The messages on their board were cute, some funny, but for the most part, you could tell they were from friends.

I fuckin won last night you owe me dinner - Cheol

rescheduled studio for tuesday - jihoon (don’t call me and bitch)

Lifting your hand, you knock on the door next to a worn sticker of a tiger that someone had tried to peel off but failed at doing so. You swallow hard, running your thumbnail along the pad of your index finger as you wait, beginning to think that he or his roommate were out until you hear hushed voices and the sound of a thump like something hitting the floor.

Joshua throws one last look at Chan, who rubs the back of his head from the floor next to this bed, muttering an ow, before the younger man pushes himself back to his feet. He hadn’t said anything he thought was all that bad, just that Joshua looked like an excited puppy hearing a knock at the door. He hadn’t been wrong; Joshua had jumped up and started towards the door, only to stop looking panicked and check his hair in the mirror on the back of the door before Chan had spoken up.

Opening the door, Joshua takes a breath before licking his lips and smiling at you as if nothing had happened at all. Your eyes move past him to the other man, who grumbles, rubbing his ass as he finally gets back on his feet and looks towards the door to meet your eyes for the first time.

“Hey, is this a bad time? I can come back tomorrow or something.”

Stepping back and to the side, Joshua shakes his head as Chan’s eyes widen, finally getting a good look at you. It was starting to make sense—Joshua's reaction to you. If he had seen you first, he might be in the same predicament, but there was a bro code, and he was a good friend.

“Not at all, right, Chan?”

Hearing his name, Chan moves forward and gestures to you inside the room, quickly moving one of his shirts off the desk chair so you could take it if you wanted it.

“Nope, all good with me. Shua said you’d be back, about the bird dude, right?”

Slowly walking into the room, you look around before looking down at the chair that had been cleaned off for you. It hadn’t been your plan to come in and sit down but you weren’t going to say no when your feet were aching after walking up and down the hall for hours.

“Uh, yeah, thanks.”

Joshua watches you move to the seat, his eyes never leaving yours even as you close yours for a moment to relish in the feeling of the pressure being taken off your back and legs as you sit down. His eyes finally move to the clipboard in your lap as he moves forward, causing you to open your eyes to look up at him.

“Looks like you did well today. Can I see it?”

Humming out a response, you lift the clipboard towards Joshua, letting him take it from you along with your pen so he can turn back towards Chan, offering it to him. With the petition out of the way and Chan occupied with something else, Joshua grins, turning his attention back to you. His eyes move over your face and down the length of your body quickly as he tries not to make it entirely obvious.

“I tried; it was tiring. I’ll try to hit the other floors over the next couple days before I take it to Seungkwan.”

Nodding, Joshua purses his lips, gesturing his hands out towards you, causing you to look up at him as he does.

“We are pretty good friends with Seungkwan. Might save you a little time. I’m not saying to cheat the system but I can tell you are exhausted. I could also help you, you know, with the other floors.. Have some friends who live in those dorms.”

You weren’t sure why Joshua was willing to help you but you weren’t feeling like turning him down, even as Chan scoffed into a laugh while finishing filling out the petition. Glancing over his shoulder, Joshua turns only to jerk the clipboard from the other man’s hands, letting the two share a quick look before he smiles at you again, offering it to you much kinder.

“What do you think?”

Biting at your bottom lip, you glance towards Chan, watching him turn away from what was happening in front of him. Tapping your fingers on the clipboard in your lap, you smile and look away, feeling suddenly shy under Joshua’s gaze once again. His playful laugh is the only thing you can hear over the blood rushing to your head as your cheeks and ears go warm.

“Yeah, that’d be great. I can give you my number so we can coordinate where to meet and stuff.”

Rolling his eyes, Chan groans at the puppy love display in the same room as him. Sliding past Joshua, the younger man mutters a bye to you as you watch him slip out the door, leaving you alone with Joshua, whose smile just grows.

“Awesome, yeah. Don’t worry about Chan. He’s dramatic.”

Eyes still following Joshua, you watch him pick up his phone from his nightstand, returning to offer it to you. You can only shake your head, a small laugh slipping from your lips as you tap on his phone icon and add a contact for yourself after making a mental note of his artsy blue wallpaper on his phone.

“He’s okay. I mean… I don’t know what he was being dramatic about but I’ll get out of his hair so he can come back and chill.” Smiling up at Joshua, you offer him back his phone and say, “I like your wallpaper, it’s pretty.”

You’re pretty, is the first thing Joshua thinks of but he just smiles back at you, taking his phone and biting at his bottom lip.

“Thanks. Uh, he’s fine, really. Don’t have to worry about him, he’s a big boy. Just not used to seeing pretty girls in his dorm room, especially ones he’s not allowed to flirt with.”

You had started to take a breath so when Joshua speaks and says that you swallowed the breath, it gets stuck in your throat. Leaning forward, you cough, lifting your hand when he steps forward, asking if you are okay. Furrowing his brows, Joshua moves to take out a water bottle, opening the lid before squatting down in front of the chair and offering it to you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Nodding, you take the water, taking a sip as Joshua watches you carefully. You were fine but you felt like an idiot. Your face was on fire from the coughing fit and embarrassment. How were you going to explain that you had just choked on air?

“No rush…  Take it easy. Another sip of the water.”

Lifting his hand, Joshua pushes your hair back, getting a good look at you and checking to make sure you were actually going to be okay. He could tell you were flustered and obviously embarrassed but there was nothing, in his opinion, that you needed to be embarrassed about.

“I’m alright. It’s stupid… I just tried to take a breath and it didn’t go well for me.”

You watch as Joshua smiles at you, his eyes kind and understanding despite the awkward situation. Dropping his hand to his knee, Joshua bites at his bottom lip once again as he tilts his head, studying you before nodding.

“Been there before. Feeling a bit better?”

Sitting back, you nod, taking another sip of the water as Joshua offers you the lid, letting you put it back on the bottle.

“Yeah, I’m good now. Fuck…I’m really great at first impressions.”

Standing up to let you do the same, Joshua takes in a sharp breath, watching you move towards his door. He knew he had just met you but he already didn’t want to let you go. He wanted to get to know you more and he wasn’t sure if just helping you with the petition was going to be enough.

“I, for one, am thoroughly impressed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Turning back to Joshua, you smile, letting him pull the door open, leaning his shoulder against it much like he had earlier in the day. You were staring at him again, letting your eyes move from his face, studying his lips, and moving down to his chest and over to his arms.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll text you in the morning. Have a good night, Joshua.”

Leaning his head back against the door, Joshua grins to himself, having known you were checking him out just as much as he had been doing the same to you. Maybe he had a shot at this.

“You too, Y/N.”

Y/N: I know it’s early but I was hoping to get started on the petition in about 30 mins on the second floor. You still wanna help?

The ding of his cellphone caused Joshua to groan before he reached out for the device, smacking at the nightstand a few times before actually grabbing it. Normally he would have ignored the message but today he remembered that he had texted you last night, making sure you had his number.

Cracking an eye open to look at his screen, Joshua winces at the brightness, blinking a few times before he is able to read the message and look at the time. It was 9 a.m., and he had gone to bed around 3 a.m. Of course you didn’t know that but he also wasn’t going to tell you no.

Joshua: Absolutely. Can we get coffee? 🙏

The message makes you smile as you sit on your bed, your stuff in a semicircle around you as you try to get ready for the day. Usually you weren’t too concerned with how much you dressed up around campus, especially on the weekends during the day, but today was different. You were going to be hanging out with Joshua Hong.

After your less than ideal first meeting with him, you decided to do some sleuthing to find out more about him, so now not only do you have his last name, but you also know his major, music, and that he has released a few songs on SoundCloud. You had even looked through his Instagram and swooned over many of his pictures, being overly careful not to like any pictures so he wouldn’t know you had been looking.

Y/N: Ofc my treat 😉

Still laying in bed, Joshua smiles at your message and the emoji. Were you flirting with him? A man could dream, couldn’t he?

Joshua: We will see who gets their card out faster.

Joshua had done his own investigation of you the night before but there had been less social media and more word of mouth as he sat in his friend Vernon’s dorm watching a few get more drunk than necessary. Lucky for him, Jeonghan had been at the little get together and he seemed to know everyone or at least something about everyone.

“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a lit major. Really fucking cute, but you probably know that.”

That he did know, but if you were a literature major, that meant you were smarter than him.

“As far as I know, she’s available. Check her Instagram but... I’m pretty sure.”

Now, walking towards your dorm, Joshua was doing just that—scanning through your most recent pictures. Most were just selfies that he was having a hard time not liking, but a few had friends leaning against you, smiles on both of your faces. What he didn’t see was anyone who seemed like a romantic interest.

Tilting your head, you watch as Joshua looks down at his phone as he walks the few doors towards yours as you wait, your bag slung over your shoulder. He seemed distracted and it wasn’t until you felt your phone vibrate in your hand and looked to see that shuahong95 liked your photo that it made sense.

Pressing your lips together, you feel the warmth spread over your cheeks as Joshua’s eyes widen slightly and he hisses under his breath before looking up to see you looking down at your phone. You had already seen the notification. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, shaking his head. Joshua presses follow on your profile and slips his phone into his jacket pocket as he finally reaches your door.

The second notification pops up that shuahong95 has followed your Instagram, and you swallow hard, looking up as you see his shoes standing in front of you. A bit of a deer caught in the headlights looks plastered on your face; you can only offer him a small smile as he leans his head against the wall next to your door and smiles back at you.

“It was a cute picture. Couldn’t help it.”

Shaking your head, you laugh quietly—a bit manically, as if you were trying to figure out what reality was anymore—slipping your phone into your pocket. Joshua just watches you gauge your reaction, finding it even more adorable as the seconds tick by.

“I–yeah? Thanks…you’re really...”

You didn’t know what you were saying but it didn’t seem to matter to Joshua, as he grins at you for just letting it happen. When you sigh, letting the words die on your lips, Joshua laughs, reaching up to tap his finger on the tip of your nose, causing your cheeks to burn hotter than you thought they could.

“Adorable. Coffee?”

Right, coffee. You had said you would treat him to some before you got started with today’s work. Reaching up to touch your nose where Joshua’s finger had just been, you smile and look away to help calm yourself before clearing your throat and gesturing towards the exit.

“Sure, I’m surprised you were awake when I messaged. You seemed like a late sleeper yesterday, both you and Chan? Is that his name?”

Nodding, Joshua walks beside you, his eyes moving between you and where he is headed. You were exceptionally pretty today. It wasn’t just the fact that you had clearly put work into looking the way you did but that you were smiling and you were almost glowing in the morning light.

“Mmhm, Lee Chan. He’s been my roomie for a year. He’s a good kid.” Smirking, Joshua lifts his hand to rub at the back of his neck as he continues speaking, “Yeah, weekends we tend to party a bit so I usually sleep in a bit more than I would during the week but for you, I'll roll out of bed.”

He was very obviously flirting with you. You weren’t an idiot but what you were was flustered and smiling like an idiot. Turning your face toward Joshua, you press your lips together and nod as he opens the door, letting you go out first into the crisp morning air.

“Seems like you are enjoying university life a bit more than I am, Joshua Hong.”

You dare to look back up at the man as he smiles at you for staying by your side as the two of you make your way towards the local coffee shop located on campus. Clearing your throat, you furrow your brows and lift your finger to scratch at the scrunched up skin as you start to ask the question that has been plaguing you since the night before.

“Um, so yesterday you said something about Chan and it made me curious as to what you meant.”

Tilting his head, Joshua purses his lips, trying to remember what he had said about his roommate before you continue making his cheeks warm up this time.

“Something about how he’s not allowed to flirt with me? What did that mean? Does he have a girlfriend or something… or is there another reason?”

There were two thoughts running through Joshua’s mind the moment you finished your question. One, did you like Chan? Surely not…  You had spoken like five words to the kid and you had been flirting with him all morning. Two, how was he going to do this without just saying it? Fuck it.

“I don’t think he’s dating anyone. I don’t keep up with it, honestly. The last party, he was trashed and hanging out with some pretty freshmen but that’s not why I said it.”

Stopping in front of the stop, Joshua squints a bit from the bright sunlight, making you smile as he tries to think of the right words before he finally continues.

“I said it because he knows that I’m interested in you. There’s a code after all.”

You had half expected it but at the same time, there was no way you could have been prepared for someone like Joshua Hong to tell you that he was interested in you. Granted, you didn’t know each other all that well but you had eyes and desires. Pressing your lips together, you muffle a small happy sound, just nodding and looking down at the sidewalk as Joshua grins, reaching out to tilt your chin back up towards him.

Joshua watches your lips part slightly as your eyes meet his once again. You can’t help but lean into his touch as his thumb glides across your jaw for a few seconds before he finally lets go of your face and takes a breath. You had that deer caught in headlights look on your face again but Joshua was just enamored by you.

“After you.”

Your eyes finally move from the spot where Joshua had been standing when you feel the warmth from inside the shop and smell the coffee wafting towards your nose when he opens the door. Willing your feet to move, you whisper a small thank you to him as you slide by him and into the shop, glancing around it, seeing only a few of the tables occupied by students with headphones covering their ears as they stare at laptops.

Lifting his hand, Joshua places it against the small of your back as he quickly waves the other at the barista, who grins at him tiredly. You had seen the man several times when you had visited the shop but never really introduced yourself to him. Glancing at his name tag, you make a mental note of Vernon as Joshua and him share a quick secret friend handshake, making your head spin. You weren’t aware that people still did that.

“What’s up, man? The fuck you awake for?”

Vernon speaks before glancing to Joshua’s side and at you before he makes a sound like an oh and grins at his friend like he knows some sort of secret. Did all of his friends know he was interested in you?

“Going to help Y/N with her petition. Which, by the way, while we are here, do you mind signing it? It’s the one I told you about, the bird kid.”

Nodding, Vernon moves behind the counter, already starting on a drink, which you assume to be Joshua’s as the man asks him the question. You just watch mesmerized as the steam plums in front of his face and Vernon just leans back and smiles.

“Hell yeah. Always down to support a worthy cause. Really awesome for you to do something like that Y/N.” Taking a breath, the barista furrows his brows, snapping the equipment into place before he grins at you. “Hey, I’m Vernon Chwe, by the way. I’ve seen you around but we’ve never really talked before. You know what you want to drink?”

Joshua watches you smile at his friend. It was a kind smile and something that he was really starting to like about you—just how kind you seemed to genuinely be. The petition was funny on the surface but underneath it, you were legitimately trying to make a difference in the comfort level of those around you.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Vernon. Thank you for that, seriously.” Glancing behind him, you look over the drinks before pursing your lips and finally nodding, “Can I get an iced mocha?”

The man gives you a thumbs up, letting you turn back to Joshua, whom you find already looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You can’t help but laugh a bit, shyly glancing away from him and behind you just to make sure he was actually looking at you.

Joshua laughs, reaching forward to take your arms and pulling you back towards him as you look for someone else. There was no one else. There was only you right now and you were so damn cute, he was starting to lose his mind.

“Who are you looking for, pretty girl?”

The heat rises along your neck and across your cheeks at Joshua’s words as your laugh gets caught behind your lips. You hadn’t expected that either. Shaking your head, you whine a bit and finally sigh, meeting Joshua’s eyes as his fingers gently run along your forearms.

“Just who you might be looking at like that but...”

“You. I’m looking at you, silly.”

Vernon rolls his eyes and grins while watching his friend flirt with you. He had seen Joshua flirt with girls before but never like this and out in the open. It had been at parties with the intent of having a quick hookup. This seemed like something different.

Sliding the drinks across the counter, Vernon clears his throat, managing to get your attention first. You smile at him and step away from Joshua to take out your wallet as Joshua shakes his head and reaches over you to tap his phone against the card reader, hearing the beep.

“Told you we’d see who was faster.”

Joshua watches as you talk to each person you meet as if you’d known them for most of your life. With your clipboard in your hands, you extend it towards the boy as he nods along with your words, agreeing with everything you had to say before taking your pen to sign his name. You were good at this—talking to people and standing up for something.

Smiling at the boy, you wave at him before he glances at Joshua quickly to just keep it friendly with you, wondering if the person following so closely behind you was your boyfriend or not. Though you were beginning to wonder if that was something he was trying to shoot for or not, he had been standing closer and closer to you. His hand rested on the small of your back as he held on to your half finished drink, letting you talk to people about your petition.

“Awesome, so just like... Seven more doors this way and this floor is done. Are you sure you aren’t getting bored?”

Offering you your drink by just putting it up to your lips, Joshua watches you laugh and lean in to take the straw into your mouth so you can take a sip as he shakes his head. This was the opposite of boring to him. Yeah, the task wasn’t the most interesting thing in the world but the company was perfect.

“I’m great and I know at least three of the guys who live in dorms up ahead so I will actually be helpful today.”

Shaking your head, you lick your lips, drawing Joshua’s attention to them as he furrows his brows, finding himself wanting to kiss them. Joshua knew that was too fast. He knew it would probably freak you out, but, dammit, you were driving him crazy.

“You’ve been so helpful all day; are you kidding? You’ve made this fly by. Yesterday, I felt like I was doing this for like 30 hours straight. This is actually enjoyable with you hanging out with me.”

So you liked hanging out with him too. He was for sure letting that go straight to his head. You watch as Joshua’s pretty lips pull up into a smile and his cheeks get fuller, causing his eyes to almost close and make perfect half circles. You were starting to love that smile. It was a real smile and it made butterflies flutter around in your stomach like they were at a rave.

“It’s my pleasure, seriously. I’d like to hang out with you more… You know, not just doing this stuff. Maybe dinner? Movie? My friend’s are actually having a party next Friday. If you aren’t, ya know, doing something else.”

Joshua Hong was asking you out. Fuck, the butterflies were flying up to your throat and you were feeling a bit queasy with how excited you were. Grinning, you almost skip in place before starting down the hall towards the next door, causing Joshua to laugh and move to catch up with you.

“Y/N…What do you say? You wanna go with me? Maybe... see where this goes?”

Feeling his free hand on your bicep, you look back at Joshua, biting at your lip as you just nod before meeting his eyes. You almost didn’t trust yourself to say anything but the look on his face made you feel like you were melting. You hadn’t had anyone look at you like that before. You knew it was university and that people were meant to fall in and out of love but you could see yourself falling for Joshua hard and quick.

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

Sliding his hand along your arm, Joshua moves his fingers to your wrist, letting his fingers loosely wrap around it. He nods and takes in a breath, fighting the urge to either move his hand down to yours to take it into his or to lean in the few inches it would take him to claim your lips for a first kiss. Not like this. Not while you were standing in a dingy hallway while other students pushed past you, both trying to get to one of their only working showers.

Letting go of your arm, Joshua smiles and gestures forward, letting you take the lead once again until you reach the first door and he reaches past you to knock on it hard in a pattern that makes your head tilt. This had to be one of his friend’s dorms. One look at the whiteboard in front of you confirmed it as you read a message from Chan stating that “Choi Seungcheol is a huge dick” only for “is a” to be marked out and “has a” to be written under it in someone else's writing.

When the door in front of you opens, you instantly avert your eyes from the shirtless man in front of you, who curses and darts off to the side, muttering Joshua’s name under his breath. Standing behind you, Joshua slides his hand over your hip and laughs as he watches Seungcheol look around for a shirt, tugging it over his head before he comes back to the door.

“What? You always answer the door half naked like a caveman? He’s dressed now, Y/N; nothing will be burned into your memory for eternity.”

Sighing loudly, Seungcheol rolls his eyes and throws up his hands in confusion, gesturing to you before you look back at him and offer him a smile. You were cute; you were really fucking cute and Joshua had his hand on your hip. Fuck. You were off the table.

“Hi, I am so freaking sorry about that. I should have maybe said something, but I didn’t, ya know...”

Shaking his head and waving his hand, Seungcheol makes a scoffing sound and gestures for you both to come in.

“It’s fine. It's not like you saw anything important. I was just shirtless; just didn’t expect to see a pretty girl at my door with that knock. Just expected an idiot.”

Hearing his friend call you a pretty girl, Joshua shoots Seungcheol a look only to get back a shrug and a gesture in your direction as if to say, Well, am I wrong? You glance around the room and smile at Seungcheol once again before putting your clipboard against your chest and taking a breath.

“I’m Y/N, but Joshua just said that...  uh I’m here—”

“She needs you to sign a petition. You know that fucking dude with the bird who gives it a bath in the water fountain?”

Furrowing his brows at the whiplash of words being spit at him, Seungcheol looks from you to Joshua before laughing and nodding. He did know which guy Joshua was talking about. He had taken a video of the kid giving the bird a bath in that fountain and sent it to Seungkwan, which resulted in a bit of backlash on the kid but not as much as it should have.

“Yeah, of course. What’s the petition gonna do?”

Moving forward, you offer the clipboard to Seungcheol, explaining your cause and how it would work as Joshua watches you with his friend. Once again, he was mesmerized by you and how easy it seemed to be for you to pick up a conversation with just about anyone.

Taking the pen and clipboard, Seungcheol sits on this bed and works on filling it out between glaces between you and Joshua, a smirk lifting at one corner of his lips.

“Surprised to see you fighting for a cause, Shua.”

Narrowing his eyes, Joshua waits to see the proper lines signed before he steps forward, taking it from Seungcheol’s hands with a curt thank you.

“You shouldn’t be. Y/N was doing this alone… I just thought she could use some company.”

That explained it. The hand on the hip, him following you around like a love-sick puppy, that look in his eye when you moved anywhere in the room. Joshua Hong was whipped.

“Ah, I see. Just helping, Y/N out. What a good boyfriend, sorry friend. What are you?”

Groaning at Seungcheol’s words, Joshua rolls his eyes and moves to grab your hand as you try to defend him and yourself, only to be guided towards the door and out of the room as the man behind you laughs and apologizes.

“Shua! I’m kidding. You’re cute together, that’s all. Don’t go away mad.”

Slamming the door behind him, Joshua leans against the wall, glancing at you as his fingers start to slip from yours, only for you to close your fingers around his as you look up at him.

“You did ask me out, so he’s not that far off. I mean, you're not like my boyfriend, you know...” Joshua grins as you lower your voice, like it's a secret, when you finish your sentence. “Yet, we did say we’d see where it could go. Don’t be mad at your friends for teasing just because of me.”

Running his fingers along yours, Joshua sighs softly at your words before nodding. He couldn’t help but let his eyes move along your face, enjoying being this close to you. He could imagine how much he was going to enjoy getting to know you better and spending more time with you when there wasn’t some task in the way.

“You’re right. I’m not mad at him and I’m certainly not embarrassed, I just don’t want you to be freaked out by it or anything. Don’t wanna scare you off.”

With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you let it go only to smile and shake your head as Joshua’s thumb moves in a circle along the palm of your hand.

“I’m not scared.”

You were scared as you stood in front of the mirror you and your roommate had haphazardly leaned against the wall. Your dress was short and your boots were borrowed. You could hear music quietly playing from Yeji’s laptop as she gives you a once over and a thumbs up.

“You look hot.”

Whining, you tug at the end of your dress and meet her eyes in the mirror as you tilt your head.

“You sure you won’t come along? I could use backup.”

Shaking her head, Yeji gestures at her laptop and laughs before offering you a sympathetic pout. She had already given up so much of her time today to help you get ready, not to mention letting you borrow her favorite boots to complete your outfit.

“I have to finish this paper before midnight or Professor Byun is going to drop me from the class. I wish I could come with you. It sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than a stupid research paper.”

Still whining, you move to Yeji’s desk, wrapping your arms around her from behind and granting yourself another laugh as she holds your arms and leans back against you. You had gotten lucky with your roommate. While so many others ended up switching after a year, you and Yeji had stuck together, and she was your best friend.

“If you finish it and want to get out of the room, just come out to the party. Joshua said there will be lots of people there and it will go until early in the morning.”

You feel Yeji nod against your cheek before she sighs and pats your arms to get you to let her go.

“I promise, but I also want you to just have a good time. Don’t worry about me. Go hang out with your boyfriend.”

Warmth was creeping along your cheeks again as you stood to your full height and moved to pick up your jacket, pulling it over your arms. Muttering, you pick up your phone, glancing over your messages, seeing one from Joshua about picking you up soon.

“He’s not my boyfriend yet…”

Even with the words spoken behind a whine and under your breath, Yeji can make them out and she laughs, feeling endeared by you. It was nice to see you happy and focusing on more than just school for once.

“Yet.”

A knock at your door causes you to take a deep breath as Yeji squeals excitedly, turning in her chair. She had met Joshua in passing a few times over the week but this felt different even for her. This was your first date with him, officially.

Joshua grins at hearing the quiet, happy squeals behind the door as he waits. He had been excited about this all day, to the point that Chan had left for Wonwoo and Mingyu’s house well in advance, leaving him in the dorm by himself to pace.

Taking in a sharp breath when the door opens, Joshua can’t help the way his eyes move over your face and then the length of your body in your outfit. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting but you had just surpassed them all.

“Shit…”

Yeji grins at the interaction. She watches Joshua stare at you, stunned, and how you shy away, whining at him to stop it. Shaking her head, Yeji sighs and finally waves at Joshua, managing to catch his attention.

“Have a great time. I expect her home no later than 9 a.m.”

Laughing, Joshua can’t help but shake his head. He wanted to tell Yeji that he could keep that promise but right now he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Uh…I’ll do my best.”

Your cheeks were on fire at the exchange between your best friend and Joshua. What were they even trying to do? Groaning, you mutter a goodbye to Yeji as she giggles, telling you to have fun before slipping your hand into Joshua's, pulling him away from the door as you shut it behind you.

“You look gorgeous.”

Linking his fingers with yours, Joshua looks over at you as he walks with you out into the chilly night air, feeling you step a bit closer to him. He could see you smiling even under the dim streetlights. Your smile could light up rooms so it was doing wonders for him right now.

“Stop it. You look great. How am I going to keep my date to myself?”

Laughing, Joshua shakes his head and leans his head back to look up at the sky as the two of you walk towards frat houses. You could both hear several parties already in full swing but none of them were where you were headed.

“I promise I’m not leaving your side. Besides, I’m more concerned that I might have to fight for you. When I invited you to this, I didn’t really consider who could be there or even where it was going to be.” Joshua sighs a bit dejected before glancing back over at you. “Most girls look at some of my friends, like Mingyu or Wonwoo, Cheol and I watch as our dates find someone else to talk to.”

Furrowing your brows, you come to a stop, forcing Joshua to do the same or to drop your hand. Looking back at you, he sees the disappointed look on your face and sighs once again, moving back to stand in front of you.

“Do I look like most girls to you, Joshua Hong?”

His smirk pulls at one side of his lips as Joshua watches you and how serious you look standing in front of him. He hadn’t said what he had to get some sort of sympathy from you, just as a true statement of what he had experienced in the past, but clearly you weren’t having any of it. Shaking his head, Joshua leans forward to brush his lips across your cheek before he speaks against your skin.

“No, you don’t.”

Closing your eyes, you try to stay still when Joshua kisses your cheek. You hadn’t expected it but you weren’t against it either. Smiling, you open your eyes as he starts to lean back, only for his eyes to drop to your lips before they lift once again to your eyes.

“I–okay…So don’t say things like that. I’m going with you.”

Your voice was quieter than you intended but Joshua just smiles, tightening his fingers with yours as he leads you up the few steps into the house that his friends were renting. The house wasn’t massive by the standards of the other major frat houses but for the available rentals, Wonwoo and Mingyu had lucked out.

Inside, you glance around, noticing a few familiar faces but many more that you had only seen while passing around campus. Joshua grins, sliding his hand from yours in place of putting it around your waist, keeping you close to him as he guides you through the house and towards the living room, where he waves at a tall, handsome man holding a red solo cup.

“Shua! You made it!”

You find yourself smiling at the man’s infectious enthusiasm as he moves through the smaller crowd to pat Joshua’s back and smile at you, lifting his brows.

“Course I did. Uh…Gyu…” You watch Joshua’s brows furrow as you look from him to the other man, waiting for the introduction before he gestures at you. “This is Y/N. Y/N this is Kim Mingyu.”

Offering his hand, you take it, letting the larger man encompass yours briefly before he looks back at Joshua and laughs.

“Wow…I owe Jeonghan fifty bucks. Fuck.”

Shaking his head, Mingyu walks towards the kitchen, leaving you and Joshua watching him a bit confused before the man at your side sighs and slides his arm back around you.

“Don’t know what that was about. Sorry…Clearly, he pre-gamed.”

You simply smile and lean in to kiss Joshua’s cheek, feeling the warmth spread across his face under your lips, before you pull back to meet his eyes.

“Don’t worry so much. I think they are just happy to see you here with somebody. If I had to take a guess.”

Furrowing his brows, Joshua swallows hard, his eyes moving over your face and down to your pretty smile before he lets out a breath and a laugh.

“Yeah? Think that’s what's going on?”

Nodding, you try to act as nonchalant as possible, feeling Joshua’s fingers pressing into your hip.

“Mhm. Between that and what happened yesterday with Seungcheol…”

Smiling, Joshua just shakes his head, trying to keep himself from doing anything stupid or too quick, as you bite at your bottom lip and give him such a sweet look of innocence. Seungcheol furrows his brows as he wrinkles his nose to the feeling of smoke tickling it. Vernon tries to pass the bong back over to him while Chan mutters to himself, sitting between them and looking at his laptop.

Joshua leads you through the living room, where Seungcheol looks a lot more relaxed than the last time you saw him. He grins at Joshua, pointing at him before letting his lips fall into a pout.

“Took you long enough.” Using Chan’s arm to sit up, Seungcheol groans to himself as he whines out his complaint to Joshua, knowing that usually he would be the buffer between him and Chan. “Do you know how much shit I have had to listen to Chan spew while I waited on you to get your ass here?”

Glancing from Joshua to you when Joshua lifts his hand and starts to speak, Seungcheol grins, finally seeming to realize you had joined his friend.

“Shit…Y/N. You came.” Pushing at Chan’s leg, Seungcheol pats a few times at the couch, getting lost in what he is doing before he looks back up at you and smiles a bit lopsided again. “Sit down.”

Shaking his head, Joshua watches as you laugh amused with high Seungcheol’s antics as Chan whines, having his laptop pushed on his lap towards Vernon, who was engrossed in his phone watching tetris competitions.

“We’re gonna mingle a bit first, Cheol. She might want a drink.” Glancing towards you, Joshua furrows his brows, realizing he hadn’t even asked. “Do you want a drink?”

Smiling at him once again, you glance around the room and towards the kitchen, before biting at your lip and pulling his attention towards it again.

“Sure, hang out for a minute. I’ll get them.”

Joshua starts to tell you he’ll get drinks but you let go of his hand and head towards the kitchen, where Mingyu yells your name, granting himself one of your pretty laughs. Seungcheol tilts his head with lidded eyes, letting his gaze lazily move down your legs before glancing up at his friend.

“She’s hot.” grinning, he leans his head back against the couch with a hazy smile. “If you don’t date her, I’m gonna shoot my shot. Still can’t believe you got her to show up.”

Slapping the side of Seungcheol’s head, Joshua listens to the man laugh as he leans forward to take another hit, letting out an exhale of smoke as he finally leans back on the couch. Lifting his brow in half annoyance and amusement, Joshua looks back towards the kitchen, seeing you smile at something Jeonghan was telling you. He wasn’t sure how he had managed it either.

During the week, Joshua tried to keep himself busy and on track but on the weekends, he allowed himself to enjoy everything that university life had to offer. He had good friends with cheap alcohol and decent weed. Joshua watched you snake your way back through the crowd, two drinks in your hand and a smile on your face, and Joshua realized now he had you to add to that list.

“I literally have no idea what’s in these cups. Jeonghan said it was juice and Soonyoung said it was death.” You laugh sweetly and Joshua swoons, not knowing if it was the atmosphere getting to him or you as you tilt your head and speak before you take a sip of one cup. “I like your friends, Joshua.”

Taking the other cup, Joshua takes a sip, recognizing the mixture of alcohols and various fruit juices as a Yoon Jeonghan special before making a face. You don’t seem to hold the same displeasure on your face but Joshua knows that can only mean that you might drink too much of it and regret it later, he would just have to keep an eye on you.

“Like it?”

Nodding, you tip back the drink, and Joshua’s suspicion is confirmed as you lick your lips, emptying your cup, and glancing back at the kitchen, causing him to laugh.

“Listen, there is enough alcohol in this to fuel a jet. One more and then we maybe…wander out to the hot tub.”

Glancing towards the sliding glass doors, you try to see where a hot tub might be but you aren’t able to see it from the living room, making you furrow your brows. Instead of questioning Joshua, you just laugh and tilt your head, feeling a bit shy about what you have to say next.

“You didn’t tell me to wear anything for a hot tub.”

He hadn’t. Joshua smiles, glancing down at his drink before taking a bigger gulp and nodding to your words.

“I didn’t wear anything either. We can just wear what we have... or figure it out.”

Your face was on fire but it could be the "juice.” You needed more courage to see where this was going. With your smile growing in size, you can’t help but laugh. Nodding, Joshua nods along with you before you feel your fingers slide along his before you head back towards the kitchen.

Seungcheol makes a face, trying to read what Chan was pointing at his laptop. He was trying hard to get him or Vernon to look at the screen and read what he had been writing for most of the night.

“No, ‘cause listen. If I say she breasted boobily, does that sound hot?”

Vernon blinks at his phone before looking over at the laptop and reading over the paragraph that Chan had been working on for over an hour before sighing heavily.

“I don’t know, man. It’s fanfiction. I think you can say whatever in hell you wanna say.”

Joshua furrowed his brow, a bit confused at the conversation, as he stood next to the couch. He wasn’t sure he had just witnessed as he watched Seungcheol stare blankly at the screen for a few more seconds before the man shifts his gaze back over to him and grins, seeming to remember he was there.

“Sit down, man. Hang out.”

Glancing towards the kitchen, where you were laughing at something Wonwoo was saying and back to Seungcheol, Joshua lifts his hand to scratch at his cheek before shaking his head. Seungcheol was starting to pout again and attempting to make more room on the three seater couch when Joshua shook his head.

“Maybe later.”

Patting Seungcheol on the shoulder, Joshua listens to the man whine as he walks towards the kitchen with his eyes fixed on you. Sliding his hand around your waist, Joshua feels you jump slightly, your eyes moving from Wonwoo to him as you smile.

“Hey, you weren’t coming back.”

You could feel your cheeks burning at Joshua’s attention but also the other eyes in the room as Wonwoo smirked at how jealous Joshua was acting.

“I was just talking to Wonwoo. He was telling me that you make some mean french toast apparently.”

Smiling, Joshua leans to kiss your cheek before glancing at Wonwoo and tilting his head.

“Camping stories?”

Wonwoo just grins, lifting his cup to his lips to take a sip before nodding and furrowing his brows.

“Thinking about planning another trip for the summer. Maybe Y/N will come with us this time.”

The idea of it made Joshua excited and nervous as he glanced to judge the expression on your face. You seemed intrigued as you clinged to his side, your smile once again lighting up the room.

“Sounds fun.”

It was sounding more and more like you were planning on sticking around with Joshua and his friends. Holding on to you a bit tighter, Joshua takes in a breath and gestures over his shoulder,  causing Wonwoo’s eyes to follow his hand before his friend meets his eyes again, only to smile.

“It does; hey, do you mind if I borrow the hot tub?”

A louder laugh from your right makes you smile as Mingyu slides back through the kitchen, picking up a fresh cup and pouring more of the juice into it as he shakes his head to answer Joshua’s question.

“Go for it, man. Just keep cum out of it.”

You make a face at the wording but Joshua just laughs, causing Wonwoo to meet his eyes and for Joshua to grow a bit more serious. Taking a step towards the doorway, Joshua picks up a smaller bottle, watching Wonwoo’s head tilt and his mouth start to open when he just grins and winks before turning to also pick up two shot glasses.

“Okay, got it. Hot tub is for relaxation only.”

Glancing around the backyard, you take the last sips of your drink as Joshua mutters to himself before making an “ah ha” sound. You gasp, watching strings of lights light up across the deck and into the trees near the hot tub, where Joshua stands grinning at you, looking pleased with himself.

“When it’s warmer weather, they throw outdoor parties or leave the doors open. I helped them hang up the lights.”

Joshua watches you glance around the lights, a smile on your face, before you once again look at him, causing his head to spin. He knew he was a goner when it came to you. You could tell him to jump on one leg and bark like a dog and he’d probably do it for you without many questions at this point just because you smiled at him.

Moving back towards the hot tub, Joshua whispers “tada” before showing you the smaller bottle of tequila and shot glasses he had commandeered from the kitchen. He grins as you laugh, moving in a bit closer to him to tilt your head. You watch as he sits the bottle on the side of the hot tub before he moves back in touching distance as you narrow your eyes playfully.

“And where did that come from? Just happen to keep bottles of tequila on you at all times?”

Wincing Joshua closes one eye as if he’s trying to think of something, feeling your hands sliding along his sides. Your laugh causes Joshua to smile and meet your eyes even as your fingers tug at the end of his shirt so your fingertips can brush over his bare skin just above his jeans. You had more courage and you weren’t going to let it go to waste.

“It was sitting on the counter. Wonwoo might yell at me later for taking it but all is fair at a party. Don’t have it on the counter if it's not up for grabs.”

Sucking in a breath, Joshua tilts his head as he feels your fingers sliding under his shirt along his back, lifting his shirt. You looked almost too pretty under the twinkling string lights and feeling your warm fingers running along his back as the chilly air also bit at his skin was intoxicating.

“You are killing me, Y/N.”

Laughing softly and sweetly, you trail your fingers further up his torso, making Joshua groan as he finally gives in, leaning back only enough so that he can tug his shirt up and over his head, giving you what you want. Your eyes move from his handsome face down over his toned chest and down to his stomach. You couldn't help yourself as you smiled, running your thumbs along the top of his v-cut feeling. Joshua takes in a deep breath, leaning his head back to look up at the night sky.

“You are so handsome, Josh.”

Closing his eyes, Joshua groans quietly to himself before looking back at your face as you give him that same innocent look that had been driving him crazy for two days. With his thumb and forefinger on either side of your chin, Joshua holds your face in place as he leans in to brush his lips over yours for the first time, listening to the sharp intake of breath get caught in your throat. It wasn’t a full kiss but it made you want to chase after one, and the way his fingers were holding you in place, all you could do was whine and press your nails into Joshua’s sides.

“Patience, baby.”

Plush lips caress yours and a large hand slides along your neck as Joshua finally gives into you, taking not only your breath but every thought in your head with his first kiss. You moan softly into his mouth as his other hand slides along your hip and down to grip at your ass, causing your brows to furrow.

Smiling against your lips, Joshua pecks at them once more before sliding his hand from your ass to your leg to slip your dress along your thigh as you look up at him.

“This okay? I figure you don’t want to get your dress wet. “

Nodding, you shrug out of your jacket, letting Joshua work the tight dress up your body and over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties as he works to kick off his jeans. You find yourself watching him shyly as you pick up your clothes and put them into a chair, your borrowed boots safely tucked away underneath as Joshua smirks at you.

You were stunning. You weren’t wearing anything special. There wasn’t any lace and nothing matched but it didn’t need to. It was perfect because it was you and he wanted more. He could just imagine being between your legs or kissing your breasts as he watched you move back towards him and the hot tub. Feeling your hand trembling in his as he helped you into the warm water, Joshua knew you needed a bit more time.

Taking in a deep breath, you smile as Joshua leans to press the button, causing the hot tub to start running and the jets to cause the water to bubble and roar around the two of you as he settles in near you. Steam rising from the surface, you watch him through it as he leans his head back for a moment before reaching for the bottle he had taken, cracking up the seal to pour each of you a shot, offering you one.

“To possibilities?”

Trying to hold back a laugh, you press your lips together and nod as Joshua laughs at your reaction. He knew it was a silly toast but it was what he wanted—a world full of possibilities with you. Tipping back your glass, you make a bit of a face to the taste and feeling of the burn as the alcohol runs down your throat. Joshua follows suit, letting out a breath before nodding and putting his glass back securely on the side.

You could feel that your head was lighter, your inhibitions were low as the drinks from the night had all begun to mix in your system. Joshua watches as you smile brightly, putting your glass very carefully beside his before you turn to look at him curiously.

“Truth or dare, Joshua Hong?”

Chuckling as you use his full name, Joshua moves his hand to run it along your arm as he starts to enjoy the buzzed feeling as his head tilts to your question.

“Truth.”

Biting at your lip, you can’t help but wrinkle your nose at his answer. You knew you were the same way when it came to truth or dare but you had pictured Joshua as a dare kind of guy.

“Mmkay. What was your first impression of me?”

Lifting his brows, Joshua laughs once again, realizing this was how this game was going to go. You watch as he reaches for the bottle of tequila, pouring another couple of shots, allowing you to grab your own. Hissing at the taste, Joshua narrows his eyes at you before smiling and pouring another shot a bit nervously.

“I opened the door and thought, Damn, what a pretty girl.”

Watching you smile and tilt your shot glass back, Joshua can’t help but smile as you giggle a bit to yourself. Reaching forward, Joshua wipes a bit of tequila from your chin, causing you to whine and lean into his touch.

“And I still think that, ‘cause you are so fucking pretty. Truth or dare.”

Feeling almost too warm, you lift out of the water a bit, only shifting yourself closer to Joshua, who takes a deep breath when your chest lifts from the water briefly. Moving his eyes from your breasts to your face, Joshua presses his lips together when he feels you almost sit on his lap as you purse your lips, thinking hard before speaking.

“I’ll pick truth too.”

Turning your attention back to Joshua, you are almost surprised to see him so close. Starting to apologize, you laugh, feeling Joshua’s hand slide around your hip to your back to keep you in place.

“You’re fine, right where you are. In fact…”

Sliding his legs apart, Joshua watches as you dip your chin under the water, feeling him shift his leg under your ass so that you can rest comfortably on his lap.

“Now…I’m curious what’s on your mind right now. So that’s my question. Tell me what you are thinking.”

Flexing your fingers, you try to figure out where to put them but feeling Joshua’s fingers sliding along the top of your panties at the small of your back, you can’t help but whine before resting your arm around his neck and your other hand against his chest. The feeling of being close to Joshua comes naturally, and you start to feel thankful for the water surrounding you, knowing that you were becoming aroused from even just sitting on his lap.

“Right now? Um…lots of things.”

Joshua grins, his free hand daring to caress your leg under the water, feeling your legs part instinctively for him even though he doesn’t do more than run his thumb along your inner thigh.

“Yeah? Tell me three of them.”

Sighing, you furrow your brows and shift on his leg, causing Joshua to rub his lips together at the feeling. He liked this too much, having you this close to him. Feeling your body press up against his and having your fingers walk along your skin as you thought of your answer.

“I was thinking about the camping trip and how that might be nice.”

Joshua smirks as you seem to stall in telling him anything he might actually want to know. It wasn’t that he disagreed with the sentiment; it was that he knew you had more on your mind. Nodding, he watches as you smile and avoids his eyes, letting your voice drop in volume so that you can barely be heard over the roar of the jets.

“And I was thinking about when you kissed me. About how I wanted you to–to do that again.”

Grinning, Joshua lets his eyes move to your lips and back up to your eyes as you stumble over your words. Leaning forward, he rests his lips against yours without applying pressure as you whine his name, pressing your fingers against his chest.

“One more, Y/N.”

You couldn’t think like this, not with Joshua’s lips hovering over yours and his breath warm against your face. Closing your eyes, you try to let yourself melt into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his fingers moving over your skin as you finally answer him.

“Just want you to fuck me. That’s what’s on my mind.”

Joshua’s lips press against yours firmly, his hand sliding from your thigh to your waist to pull you towards him tightly. He wasn’t being careful anymore, not when he knew what you wanted. Groaning into your mouth, Joshua furrows his brows, feeling you adjust your legs over his so that you are straddling him and are able to roll your hips down to grind over his hardening length.

“Fuck…” The word is drawn out on a breath when Joshua pulls back from kissing you to lean his head back at the feeling of your hips rolling over him. “Baby, that feels good. Feels too good.”

He was calling you baby again and your head was spinning. You smile, leaning to press a kiss to the column of Joshua’s throat when it’s exposed to you, drawing another groan out of the man’s mouth. Hands tighten on your ass and Joshua laughs out your name in disbelief, moving his head so he can meet your eyes.

“You are gonna make me break my promise about cum in the hot tub.”

Fingers dig into your skin under the elastic of your panties as Joshua takes a deep breath, calming down before he nods and glances over his shoulder towards a door, considering his next action.

“We are going in there. I wouldn’t wanna fuck you in here anyway. I wanna take my time with you.”

Biting at your lips, you laugh softly, sliding off Joshua’s lap as he stands and helps you do the same. You furrow your brows once you are safely back on the patio, feeling the cold air biting at your skin while watching Joshua collect your clothing and his own.

“What room is that? Should I get dressed?”

Leaning to kiss your shoulder, Joshua grins against your skin, shaking his head as he shivers just as much as you from the cold air. You feel him usher you towards the door, letting you open it, happy to find it unlocked.

“It’s Wonwoo’s room. We are just gonna…you know, borrow it.”

Blinking a few times in the dark as Joshua trips over a few things, muttering to himself before he finds a lamp, you smile, finally able to look around as he moves to the other door, locking it.

“And Wonwoo won’t mind if we borrow his room?”

Joshua drops the last of the clothes onto the floor before moving back over to you and sliding his hands up your wet back towards your bra clasp as he shakes his head. You can’t help but laugh as Joshua mutters about Wonwoo's understanding needs. You knew it was a weak argument but you weren’t going to go against it.

Running your fingers through his hair, you moan Joshua’s name as you feel his fingers tug at the straps of your bra, freeing your body from the garment. The room was much warmer than it had been outside but chillbumps were still spreading across your skin.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

Joshua shakes his head mostly in disbelief at himself thinking about how you had been living on the same floor as him just five doors down all this time and he had clearly been an idiot or blind. Scratching his nails along the back of your arms, Joshua leans down to kiss the top of each of your breasts with a low groan to the soft feeling of your skin against his lips. He was already addicted to you and he had barely had a taste.

“Please…Josh–ah…don’t tease me.”

Smiling against your nipple, Joshua lifts your right breast, kneading at the soft mound before taking the bud into his mouth and sucking hard, feeling you arch against his mouth. Walking backwards, you hear Joshua whine, feeling you start to pull from him, causing him to have to hold on to your waist to keep your breast in his mouth. You don’t stop walking until you feel the bed behind your knees and you whisper to Joshua that you need to lay down.

“Mm, okay, wait. Don’t get the bed wet.”

You smile as Joshua moves to one knee, sliding his hands up your thighs and finally to your hips to tug your panties down your legs. Closing your eyes, you take a breath, letting it out slowly, feeling his lips move over your thighs until his hands reach your ankles.

“Lay down, baby.”

Helping you down, Joshua tilts his head, taking in every inch of your body as he feels his cock throb jerk behind his boxers. You were perfect in every single way. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted first. Lifting his hand, Joshua runs his hand over his mouth as your hand barely traces the curve of his shaft as you wait for him with a questioning look on your face.

“Just trying to think where Wonwoo might keep his condoms.”

When you smile, a quiet laugh falls from your lips. Joshua can’t help but mimic your smile, sliding his fingers into the top of his boxers and working them down his hips as you watch. Your brows lifting, you take in a breath before licking your lips, obviously hungry for what was in front of you, watching his cock bounce back up at attention as his boxers fall to the floor.

“I…I’m good. I have an IUD and I get tested. Unless you just want one.”

Taking a deep breath, Joshua takes one more long look at your body before focusing on your pretty face and shivering at the idea of having you raw. There was no way he was going to say no to that.

“Okay…No, I’m good. I get tested too…  Fuck, are you sure?”

Nodding, you lift your hand out for Joshua as he rests his knee between your legs, feeling the wet warmth of your pussy against his thigh. Lacing his fingers with yours, Joshua pins your hand to the bed next to your head as he lays over you, smiling against your lips and feeling your hips roll over his thigh.

“You are so wet, baby.” You whimper against Joshua’s lips, his teeth catching your bottom lip and dragging it out just slightly before he lets go with a groan. “I wanna eat you out so fucking bad but I also wanna fuck this mouth…”

Gripping his bicep hard, you dig your nails into his skin hard enough to leave small half moon divots, causing Joshua to hiss at your reaction to his words. Smirking, he presses kisses on your jaw up to your ear, speaking against it causing chillbumps to once again spread across your skin.

“You like that? When I talk dirty to you? Tell you what I wanna do to you.”

Nodding, you bury your face against Joshua’s hair, feeling embarrassed as he laughs and presses kisses on your neck. Leaning back on his elbow, Joshua looks down at you, watching you try to hide from him until he pulls his hand from yours to turn your face back towards him so he can run his thumb over your lips, causing him to groan quietly. He knew what he wanted.

Laying in the middle of the bed on his back, Joshua smirks at you as you sit back on your feet, watching him get comfortable. You smile as he slides the pillow from under his head and lifts his hands, beckoning you towards him, only to tell you to stop when you start to crawl on top of him.

“Uh huh…  I want you on my face; let me see your ass.”

His hand slides along your leg as you whine, unsure, but Joshua just nods and helps you get in position with your knees on either side of his face as you rest your hands on his chest. Running his hands along the back of your legs up to your ass, Joshua groans at all he can see in front of him before he grips your hips and pulls your pussy down to his mouth, running his tongue flat against you to get his first taste.

You gasp loudly, your nails digging into his chest, feeling his tongue running along your folds and pressing into your entrance for just a taste of the arousal that had already dripped from you. Leaning your head forward, you find yourself sliding your hips back and down over Joshua’s face and closer to his tongue as he groans, lapping at your clit, before sucking hard and making you cry out his name.

With each passing moment, you find yourself sliding further and further down Joshua’s body until you realize you could give him exactly what he wanted. Wrapping your hand around Joshua’s cock, you twist your hand and feel him pause between your legs, his fingers pulling you back towards his face as he lifts his head up to suck your soft folds into his mouth.

“Josh…fuck. Oh my god…  I’m getting so close. I want your cock, okay?”

You couldn’t hear what Joshua was saying as he groaned against your pussy; he was too far gone and too drunk to care but anything you wanted was yours. The moment you wrap your lips around his tip, Joshua has to let his head fall back and take a deep breath as he mutters your name.

A warm, wet mouth envelopes him as your tongue presses against the underside of his cock right up until the point that you can’t take a single centimeter more of Joshua before you pull back with a gasp. Tears start to run down your face even as you smile, feeling Joshua’s fingers parting your folds so his tongue can get right back to work, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm that was right on the cusp.

With Joshua’s cock buried in your mouth once again, you moan around him, only pulling back when you feel the overwhelming pressure take over you as your orgasm rips through your body. Resting your forehead against Joshua’s stomach, you whimper his name as your thighs shake almost violently at the feeling of his fingers slowly sliding from your tight walls and along each side of your clit.

Large hands run along your thighs and up over your back as Joshua tries to soothe you before finally managing to move you to his side so he can pull you into his arms and press his lips to yours. You furrow your brows to the taste of yourself on his lips but smile at the feeling of his hand gliding along your skin to your thigh, pulling your leg across his hip to keep you close to him.

“You okay?”

Nodding, you rub your lips together and laugh under your breath, feeling Joshua’s nose nudge against yours before he kisses you softly once more. You felt like jelly but you felt good. You wanted more. You needed him completely and you knew that he still needed more.

Joshua hums against your cheek, feeling your hand slide along his stomach and down towards his cock, resting against his lower abdomen. Your smaller hand felt good and your mouth had felt even better but he had felt your pussy around his fingers and on his tongue and he was craving it on his cock now. Kissing your cheek, Joshua smiles against your skin while dragging his nails along your thigh as you lazily stroke him and speak just above a whisper.

“Fuck me, Joshua.”

You feel him nudge his nose against your cheek as he rolls you on to your back, moving his body between your legs. You knew he was a large man but underneath him, you felt even smaller and vulnerable in the best ways. Arching your back, you moan softly, letting Joshua slide your leg once more along his up to his hip, causing your wet folds to separate once again.

“I was planning on it.”

Joshua sucks in a breath, watching your eyes close on a silent moan as he slowly works his cock into you for the first time. You were tight and the stretch was evident on your face. Your brows furrowed tightly, and you took a deep breath only when Joshua bottomed out and stopped to allow you time to adjust.

Resting his lips against your shoulder, Joshua groans, trying not to think about how tightly you are squeezing him or how much he already wants to cum as you scratch his back. Instead, he just takes a deep breath and turns his head towards you to make sure you are okay. You blink tears from your eyes at how good the stretch feels and nod to Joshua’s words, begging him to move, lifting your hips in order to get him to do something.

“Shh, fuck baby. I’m–shit…okay. I was gonna go slow.”

Shaking your head, you run your fingers through the back of Joshua’s damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his lips back to yours as you speak between kisses, feeling his hips finally meeting yours and sending your head towards the headboard with each deep thrust.

“No, I want it. Feels so fucking good. Please, Joshua.”

You were going to be the death of him. Hissing out a groan on your lips, Joshua moves to rest his forehead against yours as he gives you what you want and thrusts into you hard and fast, making you cry out his name. The sound of the music from the party was still loud enough to keep him from wondering if anyone might hear you but at this point, his pride was starting to hope maybe someone would. He wanted them to know how good he was making you feel.

“Yes–ha…fuck! Josh–”

Joshua had fucked other girls and had them scream his name but no one else had made his head swell and spin like you did. Every time you said his name, Joshua felt like he was floating.  He felt like he was sending you to the moon every single time he buried his cock in you. Even if that wasn’t how you felt, he knew that you felt like heaven and he could die happy after being between your legs and in your arms.

Feeling your walls tighten around him, Joshua groans your name, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He could tell you were getting close just from the way you were squeezing his cock but you were also pushing him over the edge. He had been skirting it and doing his best not to let go too quickly but with one last scratch of your nails along his back and a soft moan from your lips, Joshua’s body shakes as, with each thrust, he pushes his cum back into you.

“Please…” You listen to Joshua’s whine into a moan as he leans back to watch his cum drip out of you with each thrust. “Cum for me?”

Feeling his thumb press against your clit, rubbing small circles against the swollen bundle of nerves, you cry out Joshua’s name as your thighs begin to shake when he sends you back over the edge, spiraling into your orgasm once again. Joshua licks his lips, watching your face this time as you cum, his eyes fixated on your lips and how they fall open when you moan so loudly that he’s certain someone had to have heard you.

Carefully slipping from you, Joshua lays on top of you, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running through his hair as he catches his breath. He could hear your heart racing and how it was steadily starting to calm down as the minutes passed. He could hear your breath evening out and he could feel the dampness of your skin against his cheek.

“I need a shower. Fuck…”

Your laugh makes Joshua smile against your chest before he leans back to look up at you, leaning to press his lips to yours once and then again furrowing his brows. You could see the question on his face and feel his apprehension as he took a breath.

“I–yeah. Same. Are you wanting to leave? I can take you back to your dorm. I – cause you know this was fun. I’d like to see you again. You know more often...”

Smiling, you lift your hand to run your thumb along Joshua’s jaw as he stumbles through his words. You knew he was a smart man and by all standards, he ran with a pretty popular crowd at the university, yet he was acting like some high school boy with a crush after fucking you into the mattress.

“Yeah? That mean you wanna date me, Joshua Hong?”

Joshua’s lips pull up into a smile at your words before he lays his face flat against your breasts, realizing how stupid he must have sounded for you to have to even ask that. Of course, he wanted to date you. This was the most cliche thing he could have done but he wanted you. Lifting his head, Joshua nods and sighs, gaining back some of his confidence.

“Yeah, hell yeah. I wanna date you. Wanna take you out as much as possible and keep you in my bed the rest of the time.”

Laughing, you shake your head, feeling your cheeks warm at Joshua’s words this time. It all sounded perfect but there were a few hiccups in his plan.

“Mm, I accept, however...  I don’t think Chan would want me in your bed that often.”

Scoffing, Joshua starts to lean up on his elbow, ready to explain just where Chan can shove his opinion, when a loud knock at the door startles you both, causing you to gasp. Wonwoo narrows his eyes at his bedroom door, trying the knob once again, only to groan.

“Who the fuck–Shua! Are you fucking in my bedroom?”

Widening his eyes almost dramatically, you watch Joshua hold back a laugh as he slips out of bed and starts tossing you some of your clothes as he slips his own on.

“Of course I am. I appreciate your donation to the cause, Wonwoo.”

Another loud fist to the door makes you stifle a laugh as Wonwoo groans in frustration, leaning his forehead against the door.

“You son of a bitch. First you stole my good tequila and now you fuck in my bed. You owe me liquor and sheets. I am going to kick your ass!”

Pointing at the door that the two of you had used to come into Wonwoo’s room, Joshua whispers for you to sneak out that way as he carefully unlocks the other door and tiptoes towards you.

“Yeah yeah…  You know I’m good for it, man!”

Slipping out the door, you squeal when the other door opens and Wonwoo yells Joshua’s name, only for Joshua to slam the other and grab your hand, telling you to run. With a smile on your face, you keep up with him as he helps you weave through the side yard and out onto the street that you had taken to get to the party. Pulling you into his arms, Joshua laughs as you do, glancing back to make sure Wonwoo wasn’t following you, only to hear his phone go off with a barrage of texts.

Wonwoo: I will fucking kill you.

Wonwoo: You are dead to me.

Wonwoo: I hope she is at least dating you now, asshole

Wonwoo: You are literally disgusting and I hate you

Joshua runs his thumb over the screen with a smirk as he catches his breath before holding his phone up to get a good angle of you both. Leaning in, he kisses you softly as he takes a few pictures, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shua: [pictures attached]

Shua: Maybe I’ll put a ring on it too.

Wonwoo: 🤢

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

[ahqkas]

♯ PRACTICE MAKES IT BETTER ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! struggling with the local slang, you feel out of place until you meet theodore nott, the silent slytherin (based off this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2.3k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, kissing + lmk !

NOTES! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

AMERICA WAS VIBRANT AND DIVERSE. The music scene was thriving with genres like grunge, hip-hop, and pop dominating the airwaves. To you, it was a place of contrasts and boundless possibilities. It was a land where towering skyscrapers stood next to historic buildings, and where you could find everything from bustling cities to quiet, open countryside. The diversity was striking; every state feels like its own little world, with different cultures, foods, and ways of life. It was a country where you could experience all four seasons, with hot summers, cold winters, and vibrant springs and autumns. The sheer size and variety made it feel like there was always something new to explore, whether it was a national park, a music festival, or just a quirky little town.

Then you moved to England.

Leaving behind the familiar sights and sounds of America, you stepped into a new world of magic and centuries-old traditions.

The first thing you noticed was the climate change. England's weather was full of frequent rain and cloudy skies. You had to get used to bringing an umbrella everywhere with you.

Hogwarts in Scotland was completely different from Ilvermorny, which resided on Mount Greylock. The towering buildings of the castle intimidated you a bit as you were used to the more modern school, but you were excited for the change of scenery.

The stone corridors, moving staircases, and enchanted portraits had captivated your imagination. The castle itself was full of new discoveries. Sure, you missed your old friends dearly, every one of them, but the owls worked hard and you managed to make new friends here.

As an exchange student from America, walking the hallowed halls of Hogwarts was a totally new experience. The ancient castle with its sprawling grounds, enchanted staircases, and hidden passageways was like stepping into a dream. But it wasn't just the magical environment that threw you off balance; it was the British slang that seemed to pop up in every conversation.

During your first week, you found yourself constantly bewildered by the new expressions. At breakfast, when a cheerful Hufflepuff asked if you wanted a "banger" with your eggs, you hesitated, unsure if it was an insult or a menu item. When a Ravenclaw mentioned being "knackered" after a long night of studying, you had to suppress a laugh, thinking it sounded more like a sound effect from a comic book than an expression of exhaustion.

The confusion was endless: "snogging" instead of kissing, "knickers" instead of underwear, "blimey" instead of a simple exclamation of surprise. You did your best to keep up, but the nuances of the language often left you feeling like you were missing the punchline of a joke. To put it simply, you were lost.

One afternoon, you were sitting in the library, poring over a stack of books for a Transfiguration assignment, when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Ciao, piccola," Theodore Nott drawled, sliding into the seat across from yours. His presence was effortlessly welcomed, with his cool demeanor and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was a strange boy at first, never letting anyone, but when you warmed up to him, he was a totally new person.

"Hi, Theo," you greeted him with a smile playing on your lips. Theodore had been one of the first students to approach you, his Italian heritage a surprising connection. He often teased you in his native language, enjoying the way you fumbled with the unfamiliar phrases. A nuisance, that he was.

"Come va la tua giornata?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ("How's your day doing?")

Already hearing this phrase a few times, you learned to understand its translation. With a sigh, you ran a hand through your hair. "It's been . . . interesting. I'm still trying to understand half of what everyone says here."

Theo chuckled, the sound rich and warm to your ears. "British slang getting to you?"

"You could say that," you admitted, leaning back in your chair as you watched his amusement at your misery. "I feel like I need a translator just for conversations."

"Well, if you think British slang is confusing, wait until I teach you some Italian slang," Theo smirked at the idea that appeared on his mind. "It's a whole different level."

Now this got your attention. "Teach me, then. It can't be that difficult from the British slang."

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott became your informal language tutor. He started with simple phrases, weaving them into everyday conversations until you began to pick them up naturally. He taught you how to greet someone with "Ciao, amico!" instead of a formal "Buongiorno," and how to say "Andiamo!" when you were ready to go.

One rainy afternoon, as you sat together in the Great Hall, Theo decided to test your knowledge. The rain tapped persistently against the high, arched windows, casting a muted gray light across the large hall. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the sky outside, swirling with dark clouds and flashes of lightning that illuminated the space completely. Despite the dreary weather, the Great Hall buzzed with the soft hum of student conversations, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the rustling of pages.

Theo, seated across from you at the Slytherin table, leaned back casually, a mischievous glint in his eye. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, framing his sharp features. You had grown accustomed to his teasing, the way he delighted in challenging you with phrases in Italian, watching with amusement as you thought through the unfamiliar language. Today was no different, his eyes scanning the hall as if seeking inspiration for his next test.

You had been in the midst of revising for an upcoming Charms exam, your notes spread out around you in a chaotic array of parchment and textbooks. The soft light from the floating candles above cast a warm glow on the pages, making the ink shimmer slightly. As Theo's gaze returned to you, you knew another one of his lessons was coming.

"What would you say if you were really tired?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Theo's questions were always a blend of practical and playful, designed to push you just a little further each time. He spoke with the ease of someone completely comfortable in his skin, his words flowing like the rain outside, steady and sure. His Italian phrases, though foreign at first, began to weave themselves into the mind of your understanding.

Your responses grew more confident, the hesitation in your voice diminishing with each passing day. You found yourself thinking in Italian at times, the language slipping into your thoughts as naturally as your own. Theo's delight was evident, his eyes lighting up whenever you got something right, his praise sincere and heartfelt.

The rain outside showed no signs of letting up, but within the Great Hall, a warmth lingered.

You thought for a moment, then confidently replied, "Sono stanca morta." The phrase rolled off your tongue more smoothly than before, each syllable a small victory in your journey to master his native language. The meaning — "I'm dead tired" — was all too familiar after long days filled with classes and studying.

Theo laughed, the sound rich and genuine, echoing softly in the near-empty Great Hall. His laughter was like a reward, a confirmation that you were getting it right. Silver eyes sparkled with approval, the corners of his lips curling into a smile that made your heart flutter. The warmth of his reaction was comforting against the dreary, rain-soaked afternoon outside.

"Well done!" His voice was filled with genuine pride and delight, making you feel accomplished. His praise was never out of place; it was always heartfelt.

Your heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy. Learning Italian was not just about understanding a new language, but also about bridging the gap between your worlds. Each phrase, each word, was a step closer to understanding Theo better, and a way to connect on a deeper level.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours, waiting for your next move. "And if you wanted to compliment someone on a job well done?" His question was another gentle challenge, pushing you to dig deeper into your newfound vocabulary.

"Bravo!" you answered without hesitation. The word felt natural, a perfect fit for the context. As you spoke, you couldn't help but smile, the simple word carrying a world of meaning and mutual respect. Seeing the approval in Theo's eyes, you felt a surge of confidence.

Theo's smile broadened, and his expression softened with pride and admiration. The approval in his eyes was more than just about your grasp of the language; it was about your willingness to immerse yourself in something new, to share a part of his heritage, to make an effort to connect.

The atmosphere around you felt lighter, the earlier tension of the day's studies dissolving into a shared moment of triumph and connection. The Great Hall, with its towering windows and ancient stone walls, seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little world of language and laughter.

The candles above flickered gently, casting a warm glow that danced across Theo's features, highlighting the pride in his eyes.

One day, as you walked together by the Black Lake, the cold water reflecting the moody sky, Theo turned to you, his expression thoughtful. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees that lined the shore, their branches swaying rhythmically as if in silent conversation. The scene was picturesque, the expanse of the lake stretching out before you, a serene contrast to the bustling life within the castle walls. It was quiet out here, and you liked this spot.

"You know, you've picked up Italian slang faster than I expected," Theo remarked, his voice carrying a hint of admiration and surprise. His thoughtful tone blended seamlessly with the natural sounds around you, creating a moment of perfect harmony.

You laughed, the sound bright and carefree, echoing across the still waters. Nudging him playfully, you replied, "Maybe I had a good teacher." The playful banter was a reflection of the easy camaraderie that had developed between you, a testament to the countless hours spent learning and laughing together.

Theo's smile softened at your words, a tender expression that seemed to light up his face. His gaze lingered on you, the depth of his affection and pride evident in his eyes. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, each shared glance made your knees tremble. Like you were the only girl at Hogwarts.

"Maybe," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a warmth that enveloped you. "Or maybe you just have a knack for languages." His words were a gentle compliment, a recognition of your efforts and abilities.

The path around the Black Lake was peaceful, the occasional ripple disturbing the otherwise mirror-like surface of the water. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp earth. As you walked side by side, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, the rest of the universe fading into the background.

Your footsteps synchronized, a silent dance of familiarity and comfort. The conversations flowed effortlessly, alternating between Italian lessons and shared dreams, each word weaving a tapestry of understanding and companionship. Theo's presence was a constant, steady and reassuring, his thoughtful insights and quiet encouragements a source of strength.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The twilight hues painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, a breathtaking sight that added to the magic of the moment. Theo's silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun was a picture of serenity and quiet strength, a reminder of the stability he brought into your life.

Before you could fully process what was happening, the Slytherin boy took a small step closer, closing the distance between you. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, his proximity sending a gentle thrill through your body. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours, the touch sending a spark of electricity up your arm.

In that moment, with the golden light of dusk casting a magical glow around you, Theo leaned in. His movements were deliberate, filled with a tender hesitation. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of pure, unadulterated connection.

The kiss was gentle at first, a soft press of lips that spoke everything you needed to know. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the gentle caress of his hand against your cheek — it all combined to create a sensation that was both exhilarating and deeply comforting.

Theo's hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. The kiss deepened, becoming more confident, more insistent. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The connection between you intensified, the kiss becoming a language of its own, expressing everything words couldn't.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. The world slowly came back into focus, the sounds of nature reasserting themselves around you. Theo's eyes, still holding that mix of affection and awe, met yours. A soft, contented smile played on his lips.

"Grazie, Theo," you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude.

"For what?" he asked confused, his brow furrowing slightly.

"For being patient with me. For this. For . . . everything."

Theo's eyes softened, and he reached out, intertwining your fingers in one. "No worries," he replied, his voice just as soft. "I'm glad I could help."

[artszweig]

spring breakers.

summary: New apartment, new bed, same boyfriend. Some things need to be broken in. (18+)

pairing: stanford!fem!reader/stanford!art warnings: smut, oral sex (f!receiving), humping, pet play, puppy!art, soft femdom, mommy kink, sub!art, dom!reader

wc: 824 a/n: yes guys im on that petplay shit sue me... this is my first published blurb so come say hi..!!

₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.

It was your idea to move out of the residence halls and into an apartment. Art didn't protest -- you had an entire speech prepared if he did, explaining the financial and romantic benefits of moving into an apartment for the next school year. He didn't need to hear any of it, instead telling you that he wouldn't mind a bigger place.

Neither of you expected how much work it would be. Finding your own furniture, buying your own food... the list goes on. School started in a week and a half and you both felt grossly underprepared, Art preoccupied with tennis training and you with moving in and working part-time.

Art was on the court when you moved the full-size mattress to your (now shared!) bedroom. When he came home, sweaty and worn-out, to the mattress already set up, you could almost see the joy spill out of him -- "I can't believe you did all of this on your own, oh my God," and "thank you so much for finishing up!"

And that's how he ended up between your thighs, graciously repaying you for your hard work. Your back was pressed to the mattress with your knees parted while Art found his place between your legs.

"Mommy," Art sighed, nuzzling his cheek against your inner thigh, "mommy, please."

"What do you need, baby? 'Please' what?" You didn't reach to pet his head, not yet. You waited until he showed you he deserved it.

Art whined.

"I need to," he panted like a dog, "to -- to lick."

As a reward, you rested your hand on top of his head, "okay, you have permission. You can; go on, lap it up."

You saw the tension melt from Art's body, the buildup finally releasing as he dove into your pussy. You're already wet but Art slobbers, making you unsure which wetness belongs to you or him.

Under you, Art groans like it's his cock that pushed into you -- and to him, it might as well have been. His eyes are closed as he licks at your clit, somewhat inexperienced but desperate enough to make it work.

It's mainly the desperation that gets you off.

Art's tongue makes it way down from your clit to the opening of your pussy and presses and wiggles and presses. It's like he's trying to swallow you whole. His moans rise in pitch and volume and you look down your body to see --

Art's head buried in your pussy while his hips rock against the mattress.

"Oh," you say between breaths, "oh, baby..."

You feel your body get hotter as you watch Art weakly thrust against the mattress as he continues to eat you. The angle isn't right and you're sure it's uncomfortable, but friction is friction and Art takes what he can get. His hands are busy spreading you apart, one hand on each of your thighs to keep you open for the entirety of his warm, wet mouth.

Your clit is entirely engulfed by him -- his tongue moves from inside of you to back on your clit where he sucks and licks.

"Come on, baby," you tug lightly at his hair, "be good."

Art's hips jerk while his mouth got sloppy. He moaned open-mouth into you, entranced by the way his cock felt pressed against the mattress.

"Are you gonna cum, baby?" You asked, but you knew the answer -- you could tell by the way his body stiffened up and his breaths were uneven and laboured.

"Mmph --" Art choked, "Mommy -- Mommy!"

You pet his hair, stroking him lovingly. This was his treat.

"It's okay, puppy, you can."

Art pulled his mouth away from your pussy, clenching his jaw tight. You couldn't fully see him cum, but you watched his body freeze and tense when he gave one last frenzies hump.

When he was done, he pressed his cheek against your thigh. His eyes were glazed over, completely fucked-out.

"Come on, finish Mommy off." You gently tugged him by the hair, leading him back to your pussy.

He was slower this time, more deliberate in his licks -- intentionally or not.

Art laid his tongue flat against your clit and bobbed his head up and down. You couldn't help but bear your hips down on his mouth, gently fucking his face. His eyes were shut and his mouth was pliant -- you could do anything you want to him like this.

It didn't take much longer for you to cum after rutting yourself against Art's tongue.

"Art, baby," you gasped, "I'm going to cum in your warm little mouth, okay?"

Art only moaned. You shouted when you finally came and pulled on Art's hair, making him take all of you at once. He cleaned it all up with his tongue, swallowing anything you gave him.

Beneath you, you could hear him mutter "thank you Mommy, thank you..."

You and Art spend the next day cleaning a new cum stain out of the mattress.

[solbaby7]

Forbidden Fruit

pairing: cassian x rhysand’s sister!reader

warnings: sneaking around, suggestive language, swearing, possible sexual content either way minors DNI, mutual pining, a simping Cass and a meddling Az

summary: The General Commander of the Night Court finds himself falling for the High Lords precious little sister.

—

Cassian knew better.

He was smarter than this—had better self-control and discipline than hundreds of thousands of men combined but all of that crumbles to ash the second you come prancing past in those tight pants. The same ones that sat low on your hips paired with the skin tight sleeveless top that showed off the wink of your navel and the dangling piercing that resided there. “Your brother know about that?”

“Oh, Commander,” His jaw clenched at the title, the sing-song lilt of your voice and the bedroom eyes that raked down the giant length of his form. Never in his life had he ever felt so anxious under a woman’s gaze and he fights the urge to shift his weight from foot to foot. “You’d be positively baffled by the things my brother doesn’t know about.”

It was a taunt; perfectly manicured nails plucking at a string that was already seconds away from snapping. Even then, Cassian can’t seem to help himself and like a small animal with little sense of self-preservation—he’s caught in your trap. “Like what?” He clears his throat, the words coming out too soft, too desperate and yet he can’t find it in him to be embarrassed when you’re looking at him like that.

Dark lashes frame pretty eyes that trail down the length of his body, a feline smile on full lips. “I really wish I could say, General,” Never had his body reacted to his title in such a way; skin burning like a flame when it came from you, dark hair hanging over your shoulders and he wills his knees not to buckle when you stalk closer. A manicured finger just barely grazes the length of his bicep and he’s already fighting the growing erection beneath his breeches. “But, I just can’t be sure you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

“I won’t say anything.”

You raise a brow, head quirking to the side and you’re unabashedly aware of the fact that this wing of the house was utterly bare save for you and Cass. “I’m throwing a little party tomorrow,” His surprise is evident; as witty and seductive as you may be, it was common knowledge how responsible you were. The pressures of perfection always weighed heavier on a woman and you handled it well. “Come if you’d like but only you.”

“Where?”

There’s a mischievous glint in your eye, fingers toying with the hilt of the sword hung at his hip. “Can’t say—you’ll just have to find me.”

He’s stuck in place when you saunter off, hips swishing from side to side until you disappeared behind closed doors at the end of the hall. Cassian huffed out a shaky breath, a hand raking through slightly overgrown strands as he willed his heart to return to its normal rhythm but he was already a goner. Mind utterly consumed in all things you from the shimmering pin tucked in your hair or the shiny sheen glossing over pouty lips.

For twenty-four hours he’d obsessed over the smell of your soap until his focus was shifted to the breathy little grunts you offer when sparring in the ring the following morning. “You’re getting sloppy.”

“Because,” You huff, breathing labored, sweat dripping down your back and you’d long since tied your hair in a knot at the top of your head. “I’m tired and can’t stop thinking about food.” You get in a few good jabs but the exhaustion sets in much quicker for you than it did the Illyrian soldier.

The idea that sets into his mind is disgraceful; pupils dilating at the very thought and he nearly moans out loud when you bend over to grab your canteen. Stretchy shorts hug tight around the curve of your ass and Cass is already diving head first into filthy fantasies of you bent over just like that with his face shoved between your thighs. It feels so real his mouth actually waters, throat bobbing with a gulp and his hands clench into tight fists.

It's wrong.

He couldn't—shouldn't—be thinking such thoughts but it's like you're doing it on purpose. Body elongated and spine dipping when tugging off the sweat-soaked training top. Only left in a sports bra and the holsters that wrap along your wrist and forearm, holding two swords so sharp you could probably slice his head from his shoulders with the right amount of intent. Yet, for some reason it doesn't deter him; the lethality of you that was always kept contained like some secret weapon just waiting for their moment.

The shirt hits the floor with a wet shlop and before Cassian can form words, Azriel is brushing past him with a knowing glance. "We'll feed you after you fight me," Cassian hates the way his nose scrunches in jealousy, lip twitching to curve into a snarl at the easy banter that arises between the two of you. Azriel stalks you like prey, sharp eyes raking up the length of skin you have bared—even if he does do it significantly more subtle than Cass.

You offer a breathy laugh, throat moving over the large gulps of water before falling into stance. Its casual, body loose from the thorough warm-up and Cass feels his blood rush at the mischievous smirk growing in the corner of your mouth, eyes darting to the shadows beginning to circle you. "Shouldn't take too long," Confidence dripped off your tongue like hot honey. "If you play fair, that is."

Az slowly tilts his head to the side, acutely aware of the rage radiating off his brother from the edge of the ring. It doesn't deter him in the slightest, shoulders rolling and wings tucking in preparation as a breeze shifted through his hair. "What's the fun in that?"

It's annoyingly fluid and Cassian just can't quell the frustration; lips scowled in a sneer the closer you and Azriel got. It should've been him with his hands touching your skin; should be him making you grunt and snap out snarky remarks whenever you'd lost the upper hand. The General's jaw clenches, teeth gritting when Az slams you down on the mat, holding down your arms as you struggle beneath such weight. "That's fine," Azriel jokes, sun beating down on golden skin, shining across amber irises and the brilliance is nearly overwhelming—nearly. "I like 'em squirmy."

It happens so fast that even the shadows don't have time to react when a whip of endless darkness wraps around the spymasters neck and snatches him back. The element of surprise works in your favor, offering enough time to get back on your feet and gain some distance despite the fact that he recovers unnervingly quick, gaze darkening under the challenge. "What? I thought we were having fun, Azzy?" A innocent little pout completely contridicts the growing throb of power that hums off your frame. "Playing around."

The sharp sting of metal unsheathing and the blades attached to your forearms are unfastened, the hilt twisting with practiced ease as you adjusted your grip.

You play the clueless female well—too well.

Maybe that’s why Azriel underestimates the true extent of your focus; too trained on the rapid rising and falling of your chest, the way your left leg trembles slightly with exhaustion and he’s completely blindsided by the way you adjust your magic to him. The deep abyss of darkness that usually comes when calling your power shifts, the shade adapting to that of Azriel’s shadows until there was no way to tell where he started and you ended.

You take the opening, mentally patting yourself on the back for the look of genuine shock that smears its way across Azriel’s face and he’s on the ground in seconds. Your knees dig into the juncture of flesh in his biceps, applying pressure to vital nerves as you hover over his chest. “Alright, alright,” He taps at the mat twice, sweat lacing his brow and fingers going numb. “You win.”

With a deep exhale, you flop to the side and sprawl flat out on the mat, limbs boneless as your head lazily turns to face a brooding Cassian. “Feed me. The Heiress of your Court demands it.” Maybe it was the linger aftershocks of jealousy that leads Cass to saunter over and hoist you over his shoulder. It’s effortless and the surprised yelp that strangled free is slightly more embarrassing that being manhandled. “Cassian,” You grunt, bunching your hands in the durable material of his leathers to brace yourself. “Put me down, right now!”

His amusement rumbles against your belly, one large hand splayed high on the back of your thigh. “I’m only doing as my Heiress asks.”

A flush warms your cheeks, no longer able to blame it on the sun when the cool air of the house shifts over your skin. “Seriously, put me down. You stink.”

“You don’t smell much better but I was practicing self-control and keeping it an inside thought.”

Your hand smacks on his back in retaliation, huffy swears echoing throughout the halls but Cassian continues as if you hadn’t done anything at all. Instead, he plops you into a seat at the dining table and instantly the house predicts your needs, providing a spread of food that has your mouth watering and stomach growling.

Before you can even reach for a plate, Cassian’s already washed his hands and come back to pile a plate full of your favorites, swiftly avoiding foods you didn’t enjoy as much as if it were second nature. A brow quirks playfully, form sinking into your seat comfortably. “You gonna help me shower too?”

“Only if my Heiress demands it.” His lips shift into a smirk so sinful you shift in place, fingers just barely recovering from losing your grip on your silverware.

A scoff hides your inability to form words, fork scraping against the fine china as you fill your mouth with much needed sustenance. Immediately, your shitty mood dissipates, hips wiggling in complete bliss while you indulge in garlicy breadsticks dipped in creamy pasta sauce.

“You’ve been training your powers.” Cassian mentions more so to distract himself from the little moans you let you with each bite. “I’ve never seen you manipulate them like that. Blending into Az’s shadows?”

“A girls gotta do something to fill her time.”

Golden eyes narrow in your direction, scanning the curve of your cheeks and slope of your nose. He lingers entirely too long on your mouth, pasta sauce gathering in the corner and his fingers twitch to reach over and wipe it off. “What else are you hiding under your sleeve?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Something about the way you look at him has Cassian’s skin going hot, the pale violet of your iris turning into nothing but a thin ring as your pupils eat up the free space. “And, I’d hate to have to get rid of my favorite boy.”

“I’m your favorite?”

You’re outright teasing; taunting the brick wall of a man with nothing more than polished silver and the insinuating drag of your tongue against your fork. “You think I give invitations to secret parties to any ol’ body? Please, I have better taste than that.”

It’s instinctual. Driven by nothing more than pure Illyrian pride, his chest subconsciously puffing up with pride under the kiss of your compliment. He’s not brave enough to elaborate on it—too afraid to jumble his words and make a godsdamned fool of himself. “Where is this party anyway?”

Silverware clangs against fine china, a signal that you’ve finished your meal and the house is quick when cleaning up for you, fondly topping up your wine and providing fresh linen to dab around your mouth.

You don’t take it.

Instead, you offer up a crimson red ribbon just barely long enough to fully wrap around Cassian’s wrist. It’s smooth like silk in his grasp, the material coated in your scent and it takes every scrap of decency he has left not to shove it up against his nose. “Follow those. Once you’ve collected the last one, you’ll find me.”

“And then what?”

A sultry smirk curves at your mouth as you rise from your chair. “Then, you can have me.” His mouth goes dry, fists closing over the strip of fabric clutched between his fingers. “Have fun hunting, General.”

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

part one two three four five six seven eight nine

“You’ve got something there,” Quin says, gesturing vaguely at his own shoulder.

“I’m aware,” Obi-Wan signs. “It’s some sort of monkey lizard fungus.”

The monkey lizard fungus giggles into his shoulder.

Quin nods grimly. “I heard the only cure is to placate it with sweets and hope for the best.”

Anakin precariously leans over, heels accidentally digging into still bruised ribs.

Obi-Wan bites his lips behind the collar but of course Quin immediately detects his movements turning stiff.

Quin holds out an arm, flexing his bicep with wiggling eyebrows. It has the desired effect and Anakin jumps from Obi-Wan, swinging around the elbow before hooking his knees over Quin’s arm.

“He’s heavier than he looks,” Quin strains out.

They walk to one of the mess halls that’s open around the clock and mainly offers food and beverages to those clinging with teeth to their sanity during exam season.

One of the cramming Padawans looks up from their dozen holo books displaying graphs, and squints at them. “Master Vos, there’s something growing out of your arm?”

“Monkey lizard fungus,” Obi-Wan signs, hiding a smile behind his collar at the Padawan nodding to themselves as if that makes perfect sense.

“What’s with them?” Anakin asks, looking at the sleep deprived tableau and hoisting himself up and swinging one leg over Quin’s shoulder.

“This is your future,” Quin says gravely and Obi-Wan is catapulted to melting stone fire Darkness “You were supposed to be my Master!” yellow familiar eyes from a smoking alive corpse and the grief is ripping him apart “—see once you take your first assignments. The only places you’ll be is either here or the Archives.”

It’s been years since he last had a vision. It’s staggering, his heart thumping in his chest like a clock ticking down the inevitable countdown. But it’s not.

He looks over to Anakin who’s already watching back with wide eyes, the fear in his hands gripping onto Quinlan. “I won’t let it come to that,” he promises, fingers thudding together heavily but he’s still shaking off the vision and Anakin’s fear is a taste in the air by now. He can’t not make promises he only hopes he can keep.

Quinlan is silent during their exchange, gloved hands keeping hold of Anakin. The calculating look in his eyes a guarantee Obi-Wan is going to get cornered later.

.

“Do you like Depa being your Master?”

Let it be said, paranoia is a common infliction amongst Shadows.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin sighs, voice breaking with puberty and annoyance. “Depa is wizard. She’s amazing even though she’s signed me up to all these classes.”

Obi-Wan looks over all the models, plans, and concepts with added calculations. There’s a data pad displaying language modules and another proclaiming the joys of agriculture. “It’s almost all in the engineering field,” he signs.

“Which makes her so wizard. You’d never have me taking up gardening though,” Anakin adds sullenly.

Don’t yearn for things I cannot give you, Obi-Wan has thought a lot in the past few years as the Galaxy seems to slowly steep in Darkness.

“Knowing what can poison you is important,” he signs, feeling restless and helpless. The mission he’s finished two cycles ago may still reside in his bones.

“I’ll just bite back,” Anakin says, tongue sticking out as he connects wires to ports. He presses a button and the thing he’s been tinkering with since before Obi-Wan left starts to purr smoothly. “Now she can even juice cocadooms,” he says, satisfaction purring just as smoothly in his voice.

“Well done.”

“I know,” Anakin responds airily and swivels around to face Obi-Wan fully. “You’re lurking in the shadows again so let’s get this tradition over with: Depa is an awesome Master and maybe I sometimes wish you’d have chosen me but,” he adds loudly when Obi-Wan lifts his hands to protest, “I also sometimes daydream Master Tiin had chosen me because he’s got his own modded Delta-7.”

The paranoia settles down as Anakin waxes over how wicked the new wing box skins and sensor fusions are, no, truly, you should see them, Obi-Wan!

[another-lost-mc]

SHATTERED MIRRORS

PAIRING: Solomon x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: Trapped in the Devildom's murky past, Solomon is there to remind you that even if all else seems lost, you still have each other.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Nightbringer angst. Vague worldbuilding that hints at a darker version of the Devildom. Bittersweet with a hopeful ending. 1k words.

A/N: There's so much in Nightbringer I wish we got to see, both in the past and future timelines, and this is my small contribution to exploring that untapped potential.

Sometimes it’s the little things Solomon does for you that makes you feel loved. No one wants to be ripped from their life and thrown into the past by some mysterious entity for mysterious purposes. The demon disguise you wear, weightless thanks to the complex spells Solomon casts on you before you leave the safety of Cocytus Hall every morning, still sits heavy on your shoulders like a burden. His magic envelopes you and fills you with warmth, a reminder that he’s always there to protect you even when he can’t be.

Because you can’t be yourself when you’re in this strange version of the Devildom, with its cobblestone streets not yet paved, or the line of unfamiliar shops and market stalls that sell food that’s much too spicy (or dangerous) for you to consume. You rush past countless shops and apothecaries, ignoring the tendrils of fear that shoot down your spine when you realize they still sell rare artifacts and reagents collected from celestial beings and human specimens that will be outlawed by royal decree long before the exchange program begins.

You can’t be yourself in this version of the Devildom, not with Diavolo and his faithful butler that are so familiar yet so foreign, younger than when you first met them. Their eyes are sharp and wary as tensions within the realm fluctuate thanks to its newest residents. There’s something guarded yet knowing in their expressions when they see you, and you have to remind yourself that despite the social and political drama surrounding Diavolo’s controversial plans, he is determined to succeed. It’s only now that you realize the lengths he’s willing to go to, and that relentless ambition is laced with the menacing power his title holds. Like every obstacle he’s faced, he weathers this storm with dignity. It’s almost instinct to want to offer your support for him, heartfelt reassurances that he can do this and you are proud of him. Every time you see him now, those thoughts wither like dying flowers on the vine because the Devildom’s prince has never felt more dangerous to you than he does now. You have to suppress the uneasy shudder that threatens to ripple through you each time his cheeks dimple with a lopsided, insincere smile that shows the tip of his fangs.

You can’t be yourself in this version of the Devildom, not in the House of Lamentation that is simultaneously familiar and unrecognizable at the same time. The rooms and hallways are easy to navigate, but you can’t help but notice the walls are covered in different photographs and paintings than the ones you’re used to seeing. The décor is fashionable but strange, reflecting trends of the current time, but it doesn’t feel like the home you’re used to. The brothers haven’t been here long enough so it lacks that lived-in charm: rooms remain intact, not yet destroyed then rebuilt, and familiar scuff marks on the floors and walls have yet to develop. The house still has that lingering musty smell like it was neglected and empty until recently. The bedroom you used to call your own feels foreign, neglected and cold because they’re unused to hosting guests (and you get the feeling guests are very much unwanted). It nearly breaks your heart when you instinctively walk in that direction and one of the demon brothers chides you with undisguised annoyance that there’s nothing over there, the room that needs cleanin’ is this way.

You can’t be yourself around the demon brothers either, not with their strange and unpredictable behaviour that leaves your patience frayed and fight-or-flight response on edge. Not long after you arrive at the House of Lamentation, you can hear Lucifer scolding Mammon from halfway across the house in an unfamiliar language that sounds too beautiful to be native to the Devildom. Even in his anger and frustration and despair, you realize Lucifer’s voice still carries the lyrical cadence of Celestial language, the place he and his brothers used to call home. It’s a harsh contrast to the dark wings and anger burning in Lucifer’s gaze when you see him in his demonic form. Their celestial garb and heavenly features are only memories of a not so distant past, and like Lucifer, his brothers are forced to wear the physical manifestation of their failure – the death of their sister, their shameful fall from grace. Part of you sympathizes with them even more now that you can see the raw aftermath of their demise, but part of you fears them too, the fractured versions of themselves held together with the growing power of their respective sins.

Every morning you wake up, homesick but determined to make the best of things, and Solomon helps you don your disguise and pushes a cup of tea into your hands. Every evening, you trudge back to Cocytus Hall, weary from spending all day pretending to be the attendant of seven unruly demons that look like the demon brothers you know but feel like poor substitutes at best. Solomon is usually waiting in your dorm, greeting you with a kiss while offering a hug and if needed, a shoulder to cry on. You make food together (while you handle most of the cooking and he helps set the table and wash the dishes). Later, you read together on the sofa or talk about the latest gossip or Devildom news, and Solomon updates you on his progress – or lack thereof – of finding a way home. Despite the hopelessness of it all, it feels bearable because Solomon is there to share those burdens and fill your heavy heart with hope. You can rest easy at night, laid down in your shared bed with Solomon’s arm draped over your waist, his gentle snores coaxing you to sleep after him, and no matter how bleak things seem, it feels like a promise that one day, everything will be alright again.

Read More: Obey Me Masterlist

[reader-wandering18]

Arcane Yuu (Zaun)

He was very surprised by the air of the place. So clean and full of magic, literally.

When he ended up in another timeline, separated from Ekko and Heimerdinger, he did not expect that when he tried to return he would end up in a world where Magic is the main basis that moves it.

Something very different in Runeterra where in some places it was considered something cursed and in others as a weapon. He expected a destroyed world but found himself in a paradise of magic.

But he couldn't stay in that place.

—Move

After having met a couple of idiots from that school (Deuce and Ace), an expulsion, almost dying in a mine and being accepted as a student, now Yuu found himself in front of the students of that place.

—Your pet ruined my food. I want you to give me what you have.

That boy along with his partner approached Yuu, to which he handed his tray to Deuce who took it confused.

— Oh, I'm going to...

And in just 4 moves, Yuu had finished off 2 third-year students. Both now staggering on the ground, one with a broken nose and the other missing a tooth.

A silence fell over the dining hall and certain gazes of people he would soon meet fell upon him.

—They are definitely like those Piltillos. They talk a lot, fight little.

That was his first impression at Night Raven College.

The students of that school were everything that Yuu identified as the same idiots from his world. Egocentric, proud, and they thought they were superior just for having magic.

He hated them... but not all of them.

— So, whi are You?

While he was investigating ways to get out of that world, a green light outside his dormitory was what caught his attention. Believing it was an intruder, he took one of the devices he had created from the scrap metal that the director got him.

Great was his surprise to find an imposing figure with horns in his yard.

— Don't you know me?

— Should I? — he said with a certain annoyed tone.

That person, being or whatever it was, laughed in a funny way which bothered Yuu.

— You shouldn't wander around other people's yards. You never know if they can react badly.

Malleus' gaze dropped to Yuu's hands where he noticed an object in his left hand. He didn't know what it was, at first glance it looked like junk but seeing how that human held it so tightly...

— I'm sorry, this was previously an abandoned place so I came to have some peace and quiet.

Yuu glanced at the bedroom that Director Crowley had given him as a temporary residence. His grip on the electrical grid he had made loosened a little.

— No, I'm sorry. This place must be very busy for you to come here tonight in a quiet manner. I'm going to start living here for a while so I'm sorry to take away one of your places where you can rest from the world.

Yuu's words surprised Malleus. Despite being young. (a child in his eyes) his words sounded tired.As if he also needed to be able to rest and forget everything even for a moment.

— If you've settled here, I'd better find another place to think. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you..

— You're different from the other students. Although you seem somewhat intimidating, you're much more polite — Yuu smiled kindly.

— ... What's your name?

Seeing the good atmosphere that was being produced in that place, Malleus couldn't help but want to meet that human who from the beginning saw him in a threatening way, and then, smiled at them in a friendly way.

There was a slight silence between them to which Malleus thought it was rude to ask his name when he hadn't given his own, although it seemed strange to him since he was very well known.

— Yuu

That was how a curious friendship was formed between a Zaunita and a fairy.

—Shishishishi, you spoiled rich kids always have your guard down.

Riddle looked furious, apparently wanting to go towards Ruggie who seemed to be about to run when Yuu's voice made him stop.

—You're right about that.

The gazes of the three boys and the cat turned to Yuu who looked at Ruggie with a bored look.

—However, being here with them has made you let your guard down as well.

Yuu showed what he was holding in his hand, what seemed to be a wallet, something that at first glance didn't seem to be that important. Those from Heartslabyul thought he was trying to bribe Ruggie due to his already known taste for money from that beastman, but upon closer look at that wallet, it seemed to be a little different from the others the two knew.

But Ruggie was quick to recognize the wallet and quickly and somewhat nervously searched in what seemed to be the hiding place where it should be, but it was empty.

—This, it's not yours right?

Yuu opened the wallet and searched inside finding a large amount of money that in that world was known as madol.

— Leona Kingscholar?

Ruggie laughed with irony and apparent annoyance.

— Funya! Yuu if you don't have magic, how could you take it from her?

— Yuu, you shouldn't search and much less steal another person's wallets!

— Answering Grim's question, no magic is needed to do this. And he answered Riddle, where I come from doing this is as normal as breathing the Kalima of Zaun.

Before Riddle could ask what the kalima was, Ruggie's voice interrupted him.

— So, you're like me.

The boys now turned to look at Ruggie who looked at Yuu with a mocking smile. To which Yuu answered with the same.

— You could say.

— Working for the top?

—Just like you.

His answer made Ruggie's smile fade and he looked at Yuu in annoyance.

—Look, I'm not looking to fight, let's just make a trade. Give me back their wands and I'll give you back your wallet.

—Wait a minute supervisor! We can't let go of our guilt! — Cater said

—We have nothing to blame him for in the first place, just suspicions. Talking to him won't make him tell us the truth. And with nothing against him, we can't stop him. Unfortunately for you, I'm not a vigilante who likes to arrest indiscriminately.

—That's not what I meant.

—I know, I'm sorry... I got carried away.

Yuu stretched out his arm to hand the wallet to Ruggie in a show of peace. Ruggie looked at the feathers in his hand and seemed to think for a moment.

They both approached and exchanged the items, but before walking away, Yuu couldn't help but whisper.

—We have to support ourselves from below.

His words made Ruggie look at him in surprise

Once the three of them walked away, Ruggie checked Leona's wallet, noticing the slight lack of some bills.

He simply smirked.

—Why are we here, Yuu? Didn't you say we no longer had money for our sweets?

—Well, it turns out fate smiled on me.

Of course, sometimes one can't help being the way one is.

— What brings you to the second year floor? — Riddle asked

Ace, Deuce and Jack were in the second year hallways after their last classes, which had made them meet Azul, Jamil, Riddle and Jade.

— We're looking for Yuu. — Deuce said

— My minions went to deliver some documents to Professor Trein. But he hasn't returned.

— It's been too long, so Jack suggested to go look for him.

— Jack seemed very worried~

— Grr it's not true, I just want to make sure he doesn't get into trouble.

— Certainly since Yuu's arrival, there hasn't been a single day when the school is silent. — Jamil said

— Don't mention him, he's someone really troublesome, I won't forget the ruckus he made in the monster room. — Azul couldn't help but sigh — It's the first time I've seen how a human was able to carry the twins. Yuu is really...

— Interesting. — Jade finished with a smile that sent shivers down the spine of the first years.

Suddenly, cries of surprise were heard throughout the hallway.

— Why so much noise? — Riddle asked

The group looked towards a corner of the left hallway, the sound of quick footsteps and an unfamiliar voice made the first years and Riddle's skin crawl.

It didn't take long for those two figures to appear, causing a stir.

— Yuu!

— Floyd!

The two approached them with great speed.

— YOU CAN'T RUN IN THE HALLWAYS! — Riddle shouted, standing in front of the group with an annoyed face. But seeing the ever-present case of his warning, he took out his pen and created a wall of wind that would catch both offenders.

But Yuu had done something that no one had anticipated.

He jumped off the balcony.

— YUU!!!!

— IDIOT, YOU'RE ON THE SECOND FLOOR! — Jamil shouted

The first and second year groups, as well as some students who noticed the jump of that boy without magic and the twin, ran to the balcony to expect the worst.

They were greatly surprised to see how Yuu grabbed the ledges and quickly went down to the first floor followed by Floyd with a much more terrifying smile.

— Hehehe This is very fun~. I didn't know that lobster knew parkour.

— Let's see how good a sea mermaid is.

— Heh, it seems that Floyd found a playmate. How envious — said Jade

— Come on!!

Ace ran followed by Jack and Deuce who was carrying Grim.

— Wait a minute!

Riddle ran after them while he was seen with an amused smile from Jade and a tired face from Azul.

— Yes, without a doubt Yuu gives "life" to the school.

— This looks really fun, come on Azul, I want to see what will happen.

— Hey Jade, don't pull me!!

Jamil saw how everyone went after that person without magic who, since he arrived at that prestigious institution for wizards, managed to oppose the leaders of the dormitory and at the same time, turn everything upside down.

—....

He sighed and went after the others.

...................

His breathing was labored, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

— Lobster~

Floyd's playful voice could be heard almost on the back of his neck, being chased like that reminded him a lot of his childhood, when he was chased by the men of Silco who sought to make him work in the mines for the extraction of shine.

Although Floyd was terrifying to many students of that institution, for Yuu he didn't compare at all to the people of Zaun.

But doing this is... Really liberating.

Yuu ran through the halls, running into a few familiar faces and several new faces he didn't know... Yet.

Among his acquaintances was Trey walking calmly through the halls of the first floor accompanied by a stranger with a peculiar cut and a handsome man, the three seemed to be talking until the sudden appearance of Yuu jumping on them made them surprise each other.

The handsome man grumbled in annoyance at seeing how he had been used as a springboard. But the one with the strange cut laughed amused.

Trey's glasses had fallen off in surprise. But Yuu ignored them and kept running until they reached the school's outer courtyard.

Cater and Kalim were walking with two other people, one with silver hair and one with blue hair that strangely seemed to be made of flames.

— Those are...

— Yuu and Floyd? — Kalim finished.

— But behind them are also the first and second years? What's going on? What kind of anime comedy scene is this? — the curious-haired boy quickly muttered.

— It seems like they're playing tag — Silver said.

— I don't think so. Floyd-shi gaze looks somewhat scary.

— But why are they running towards the direction of the cliff? — Kalim said

— WAIT, WAIT, WAIT, YUU! — Cater scream

Idia and Silver were expectant as they watched Cater and Kalim run with the others in an attempt to stop a human without magic.

— What is happening to this school?

When he felt Floyd's fingers rolling around his neck, Yuu jumped again... But this time to the cliff. Something that made all his acquaintances scream in horror and take out their wands in an attempt to catch him with magic.

But unlike them, he wasn't terrified.

Yuu knew he was heading to a cliff, but that cliff was special. He realized that even though it was on the side of the school, the path to get there was terribly long. This was because it was a bit higher than the campus, making it impossible for students to take shortcuts like climbing the school walls to get there faster.

Of course, something like that was no impediment to a Zaunite.

Floyd, as well as the others, crashed into the walls only to see Yuu slide down the eaves that linked the school to his dormitory.

Even though it was awfully steep and one wrong move could send Yuu rolling down. He slid masterfully as if he was already used to it and arrived at his dorm with a smile on his face.

He turned around to see everyone, both his friends and the second years. He couldn't help but smile at their expectant faces.

Yes, just like in the fissures.

In the end he was scolded by both the principal, the teachers and his friends (especially Riddle) as well as receiving expressions of astonishment from Floyd, Jade, Kalim and Cater for such a feat.

It's been a while since I finished the second season of Arcane. I don't like LOL but the series hooked me with its animation, world, story and characters.

Piltover has its thing, but Zaun became one of my favorite regions (I didn't like living there) but its aesthetics are easy, cyberpunk with a biopunk and Steampunk style.

Its champions also became my favorites, Jinx, Ekko, Vi and Viktor. (And although it's not in the series but in the game Renata)

Wow, beautiful characters. Therefore, I leave here my two cents about a yuu from Zaun.

I hope you like its.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Taste of Sugar (Part 1 of 2)

Alastor x reader (Hazbin Hotel)

Part 1 rated M, Part 2 rated E 18+ for adult content

TW part 1: Light jealousy, trauma related to past food insecurity, trauma recovery.

TW Part 2: Explicate smut, see part 2 for details.

Almost 4k words for part one. Ps- Fuck you Nonny, this is what you get for trying to tell me what I'll write

~<3 Love, Kit.

As you work through the trauma of your life and starving to death, you dismantle your stash of snacks for what you hope will be the final time. Snack cakes, cookies and crackers are given to everyone around you, except one resident in the hotel whom you knew wouldn't enjoy or consume the treats. Then, as the flow of treats tricked to a stop, stash dismantled, small brown boxes containing treats began to appear at your door. Simple, delicious and seemingly homemade treats without so much as a note.

He watched and he waited, each week for your offer. Each week, no offer came and again he left his gift at your door. Why would you not think of him? Why would you not see him? What did he have to do for you to consider him?

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

A Taste of Sugar

You found yourself in Hell after a rather uneventful death that made of for its lack of excitement with lasting trauma. Now, sitting in a circle in a hotel that functioned more like a rehabilitation center and refuge than actual hotel, you were expected to recount it to the fellow residents that had become more like friends. 

It was Charlie’s latest grand idea of how to build trust and bonds between the group and process negative feelings that could hold each of you back from redemption. You didn’t think that was how redemption worked but whatever, it wasn’t your reputation on the line and it got you a safe room to sleep in and three meals a day. 

The others had grand stories of murders, crimes and addictions that all landed them in the grave, one way or another, often taking others with them. They had spoken of dark indulgences. 

Now they teased you, your crimes amounting to nothing compared to theirs. Damned for the simple crime of being born poor and attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to survive. 

You had died fairly young, having lived most of your life on the streets only to starve to death, alone, cold and in the dark. The shelters were full and the food banks near useless without somewhere to cook the food. Stealing food could only get you so far when you had little to choose from. You died dreaming of a warm meal, cooked at home. You died begging to world for a simple snack cake to quiet the pain in your stomach. You died alone, cold and hungry. 

The divine didn’t seem to care that you only stole what you thought you needed to survive. Really, not even that considering you starved to death. Maybe you didn’t pray enough. Maybe you didn’t go to the right church. Maybe you didn’t give away what little food you had often enough. 

Explaining that felt like shining a spotlight on every way you failed. You failed in life and you failed in death. Not good enough to get into heaven and yet you were also not bad enough to have a respected place in hell. Weak, unless and fueled by fear of once again going without. 

“So, that’s why you’ve always got snacks?” Angel pointed out, making you blush hard in shame. The trauma of your life hand a lasting grip around your actions even in death. 

“I’m trying to be better about it,” You felt shame in how you tended to hoard snacks in your room, rarely actually doing more than a little nibbling at them. Charlie did a great job of ensuring all residents had access to three meals a day, though someone was almost always missing from one meal or another. “I know I don’t have to worry about starving here, it’s just hard.” 

In the shadows of the hall, red eyes watched the group. A smile stretched in the distance as they discussed how the traumas of life leaked into the afterlife and the ways you could move past your traumas. 

He couldn’t say why he was drawn to you. You were little more than a lost doe and yet you plagued his mind. He wanted to cast you out so you’ll leave his thoughts as much as he wanted to keep you as a little pet for his own amusements. There was time enough to figure out what to do about the conflicting urges. For now, he can simply watch from a distance, from the shadows.

Rosie had told him that in her expert opinion he was ‘catching feelings’ when he had lamented his inability to settle on a course of action. That aggravated him more than anything else, well almost. The utter glee at the concept was more annoying by just a touch. 

He was above romantic sentiments just as he was above the carnal desires of the flesh. Rosie was mistaken, Alastor decided as he also made the decision that he would do nothing about you. There was no reason to let you plague him any longer. Simply look away, move on with his days and it would pass. 

Without the desire to do anything about this strange draw to you, Alastor settled on watching you from across the room. He watched as you ate, as you threw out the occasional small package of snacks.Turns out, he wasn’t very good at looking away from you. 

It didn’t escape him how you would frown, discussing your decision with Angel. You had decided you would no longer hoard snacks and oh, how proud of you the group was. 

You were growing. Healing. Blooming. 

If you’d talk to him, he’d tell you that very thing. Yes, he decided as you gave away snacks that he would tell you just how proud he was of you when you presented him with a part of your stash. 

He watched and he waited as you gave out cakes, crackers and cookies to everyone else. 

But never to him. No, it was always Angel and the other residents you shared your spoils with. Not once had you sought him out to offer him a cracker, cake or cookie. Not that he indulged in processed snacks or sweets on anything but the rarest occasion but that didn’t stop his shadow from bristling in annoyance behind him. 

He wanted to be offered. To be recognized. To be thought of. To be noticed. 

But he didn’t have feelings for you, he told himself. And that’s what he kept telling himself as the purging of your stash came to an end, drawer empty and flow of snacks becoming a trickle, an occasional treat purchased with the intention of sharing.

Oh, how you’d healed. 

~~~~~<3

The first time it happened, you nearly stepped on it. Someone had left a simple plain cardboard box in front of your room door without so much as a note attached to it. Inside were two equally simple cookies. Nothing large, nothing fancy. 

Setting them on your desk, you debated eating them or not. They looked good but when you had asked around, no one knew where they had come from. 

“Guess you’ve got a secret admirer,” Angel had teased you. “If the cookies are good, you should date them.” 

You didn’t know how you’d pull that off without knowing who left them though. Surely they were safe to eat, it’s not like random people came and left the hotel.

What’s the worst that could happen, if they were drugged? You were safe in your room. If they made you sick you had a private bathroom. You were already dead so what’s the harm?

The cookies were good, it turned out. You had nibbled on them over a few days, spreading out the treat. It seemed as soon as they were gone though, a new box appeared at the door. This time with a handful of crackers, some sliced cheese, fruit and sliced cured meat.

This continued for months, treats that were simple, modest and only enough to last for a few days. No matter how quickly or slowly you had consumed the gift, the night you discarded the empty box always brought a new box in the morning. 

~~~~~<3 

You leaned against the counter watching Alastor work. It was late and though you were not hungry, you often found yourself in the kitchen. Just being able to go down and look at the food you had access to had been helping you resist the urge to hoard food in your room when ever you felt that anxiety claw at you. 

It helped too, that you had been able to look forward to the small snack boxes that showed up. 

“Something on your mind, Dear?” Alastor didn’t look to you as he spoke, instead keeping his eyes on ingredients he was measuring out. 

You hadn’t expected to find him in the kitchen. It was late and those who didn’t leave to party were asleep. Husk was even passed out at the bar. 

“Not really,” You said after a moment. 

“The food is all here,” Alastor said with a hum, “If that’s what you’re here to check.” 

“Oh, No! I-”

“We’ve all got our quirks.” Alastor cut you off, pouring water into a bowl and adding yeast. 

“What are you making?” You asked rather than face admitting that he was right about what you were there to do.

“Beignets,” Alastor said, mildly annoyed.

“Those are like donuts, right?” You asked, hoping that you had imagined the sound. 

“Indeed, they’re similar.” Alastor kept his words curt. 

“For breakfast tomorrow?” 

“At this hour, it’s today.” Alastor swallowed his annoyance at the endless questions and lied, “Yes, for breakfast.”

“I’ll go, sorry for bothering you.” You stepped backward as you took the hint, smile falling from your face. 

“No,” He answered too fast, bitter sigh huffing through his always present smile, “I’ll need someone to try the test one.” 

“Oh.” 

You sat, watching Alastor work. He mixed flour into the liquid. This was a way you had never seen Alastor before. It crossed your mind that he probably didn’t let many see him with his coat and gloves off, smile turned soft and flour dusting his dark hands. 

But he was letting you. 

His coat was draped over the back of the chair you sat in, brushing against your skin as you shifted positions. His gloves were folded neatly and discarded on the table. He worked with his sleeves rolled up and a tune filling the air as he alternated between humming and softly singing to himself. 

It was beautiful. You were engrossed watching him work. The sound of his voice seemed to wrap around you, caressing you with warmth. 

You’d never spent much time with Alastor. You knew he was a deer, like yourself but until now, you’d thought his only deer trait had been the antlers and ears atop his head. It hadn’t occurred to you that he would have a little fluffy tail to match your own. 

It should have, you had fluffy ears to match his though with your longer hair, it was more obvious that they were indeed ears. You watched as his red and black tail moved with him as he put the dough in the icebox to chill.

“What now?” You asked, leaning back from him. 

“We wait, my little doe,” Alastor sat front of you across the table, leaning into your space across the small table.

“For how long?” You ask, not sure what to make of spending so much time with him. 

“A while,” Alastor said, “But I assure you the wait is well worth it.” 

“But you don’t like sweets.”

“You know what I like?” Alastor’s dark hand, stained by blood that could never be washed away dramatically rose to rest over his heart with a flourish as he leaned forward even more. “I’m ever so flattered.” 

You stuttered, not sure how to backtrack. Alastor laughed at your flustered stuttering before taking pity on you, pointing a long claw tipped finger so close to you that you swore he was going to stab you with his nail. 

“You, my dear, do enjoy sweets however.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, face warm. He knew that you cared for sweets. You were tired but seeing this relaxed side of him was thrilling. That chased away most of the fatigue, driving you to stay and find someway to push the conversation along. 

“I didn’t know you liked to cook,” You struggled to decide how to fill the silence.

“I’ve always found it rather enjoyable.” Alastor cocked his head to the side as he watched you. “My mother taught me.” 

“That must have been nice.” You weren’t sure what to say, having never really gotten to experience the love of a mother yourself. 

“It was.” Alastor watched as you leaned forward, resting your head on your arms. There was something about you that he couldn’t put down. “Did your mother not teach you to cook?” 

Your ears sagged atop your head at the question, earning a raised eyebrow from the man across from you. “She didn’t teach me much of anything. I was on my own since I was fourteen.” 

“Oh, Dear,” Alastor said as if he didn’t know that already, “How dreadful.” 

“I never really had enough food for learning to cook to be a thing.” You shrugged your shoulders, not lifting your head as you stretched out your arm to use it as a pillow. You shifted, allowing you to face him even as you used the side of the table to lounge on. 

“But you do now.” Alastor pointed out as he sat with you in a kitchen full of food.

“Full of Charlie’s and the hotel’s food.” You said, “I couldn’t risk wasting it. It’s enough that everyone shares with me what they make and,” You shake your head awkwardly against your arm, cutting off the thought.

“And?” Alastor pressed. 

“Someone’s been leaving little boxes of treats at my door. I wish I knew who it was.” 

“Why?” Alastor leaned back now, putting distance between the two of you, “Does the origin of a gift matter?” 

“I-” Your eyes teared up as your voice strangled in your throat. You sat up, not sure why you were being so open with him. 

“You~?” Alastor asked in a sing song tone as a tear slipped from your eye and ran down. His eyes followed it as it cut a path down your cheek. It was maddening to him, what you made him feel. How watching that tear captured his attention, yet he raged at the fact that it was born from pain in your heart.

“I’ve never had anyone give me treats like that.” You said, wiping the tear away much to his disappointment. 

“Never? Surely a suiter gifted you treats while courting for your attention.” Oh, why did saying that raise bile in his throat? 

“I’ve never-” You laugh, not sure why the idea of discussing this with Alastor made you feel uneasy. “There was never any suiters. No boys. No one.” 

“I struggle to believe that.” Alastor laughed as he stood from his chair, “Come my dear, wash your hands and join me.” 

You didn’t know what he wanted but Alastor was a man to be obeyed. While you were both deer, he had far more power than you could ever dream to possess. If he wanted to demand your help, you had little choice but to comply. 

Sure, the hotel offered a sense of safety but if Alastor wanted to squash you like a bug, shared demonic traits or not, there was nothing that could stop him. Well, Charlie would but she was asleep. 

Alastor had the counter floured and a small portion of dough out as you joined him, drying your hands. “Where’s the rest?” 

“That’ll be fried up in the morning, if it passes our test.”

He pulled you in front of the counter before stepping close behind you. It was hard to ignore the overwhelming presence of him looming over your shoulder as he reached around to grab the rolling pin only to pass it to you.

“Roll it out until I say,” He directed as he covered the pin in flour only to place it in your hands. 

As you worked, his hands rested on either side of you against the counter, boxing you in from behind while not touching you at all. It was hard for you to ignore how close he was. 

It was like the man was taking over your mind, something you hadn’t expected considering you hadn’t given him much thought in the months before. The smell of his cologne seemed to surround, making your head light. You weren’t sure why you were reacting to him like this but it left your nerves buzzing. 

Now all you could think of was the way his breath caressed over your ears, the way his hands looked without the gloves, dusted with flour, the sound of his voice as he hummed and the smell of his cologne. 

“There.” Alastor said, taking the pin from you and replacing it with a dough cutter. “Squares, about the size of your fist.” 

Cool air swept around you as Alastor moved away, checking the pot of oil heating on the stove. You’d only just begun to relax under his looming presence and now he was gone and damnit, you missed it. 

There was just enough dough to form two squares with some left over. Alastor scooped them up before dropping them in the oil. You stood next to him, watching as the oil came to life around the dough. 

“How long do we cook them?” You asked over the sound of the violently bubbling oil.

“Not long.” Alastor said from too close behind you once again as inky black shadow imps swept up the flour and crumbs, wiping down the counters.

On the counter, he set a plate with a rack over it and next to that was a sifter atop a container of powdered sugar. You were boxed in by Alastor as he rested his hands on either side of the fryer, looking over your shoulder as he once again boxed you in. 

“Now.” He said softly, “Scoop them out and put them on the rack.” 

You were timid, scared of being burned as you fished for the squares with the spoon made of wire. 

“Hurry, hurry!” Alastor cried, voice carrying a musical note as he only made your nerves worse, “You don’t want them to burn!” 

Finally, you got them out. Oil dripped off the puffed up pastries as they quickly drained the excess oil off. Alastor grabbed the sifter only to put it in your hands. He moved you as if you were a puppet, placing the sifter in your hands over the rack, steam wafting up to caress your hand. You stood still as he poured a few spoonfuls of powdered sugar into the basket. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He teased. “You can manage to turn the handle, can’t you?” 

“Yeah,” You stammered over the word, mind buzzing with the anxiety of having Alastor, the powerful, blood thirsty Radio Demon spending so much time in your immediate space. Your hands shook as you turned the small metal handle, causing the wire bar inside the sifter to spin, agitating the powdered sugar and helping it fall in a smooth, clump free shower over a square. 

Alastor used his hand on your forearm to move the sifter over the other pastry when he had decided there was enough dusting on the first. You didn’t know if there was any science to how much sugar each got or if he was simply measuring with his long dead heart. 

Once both were covered enough for his taste, he plucked the sifter from your fingers and set it aside. 

“What now?” You asked, unsure still of what was going on. 

“Now you try one.” Alastor said, plucking a square up. When you went to grab the other, he roughly shoved the rack out of your reach. 

“What? Why did you do that?!” Your brow furrowed as you looked at the rack, now well out of reach before looking back at the man standing too close to you. “How can I try it if you won’t let me grab it?”

“Open.” Alastor commanded as he ripped the corner off the beignet in his hand. 

“Wha-” Your question was cut off by the soft, warm, sweet taste that invaded your mouth somewhat forcefully. 

It was delicious. 

“Well?” Alastor asked as you swallowed the bite. 

You hadn’t noticed Alastor rip off another chunk of beignet but found it pushed between your lips the moment you attempted to praise the taste. This time, instead of retreating, his thumb rested against your lower lip as you took in the bite. 

His nails were long and pointed claws, not the thick claws that encased the fingertips of his gloves, but still dangerous. The sharp point of his thumbnail poked between your lips as he watched you chew for a few moments. 

You were spellbound by the way he looked down at you. What exactly was happening, you had no fucking clue but the air between you and Alastor was thick with something you couldn’t begin to understand. 

His touch left your lip to rip another chunk off the beignet slowly as you watched him. His dark bloodstained hands were covered in the white powdered sugar and flour, softening their appearance.

“It’s good,” You whispered as he slowly brought another bite to your lips. 

This time he offered it, waiting for you to open your mouth and take what he was offering on your own, knowing full well who was offering it. Somehow, it felt like something far more than a midnight snack was being offered to you but what?

“It’s been you,” You said, not asked as Alastor presented another bite that you took willingly as soon as you spoke. 

His thumb again lingered on your lips, sugar damp with oil and sticky on his skin smearing. 

“Yes,” Alastor said after a pause to toss the remaining portion of the beignet on the counter and wiping the hand that had been holding it on a hand towel on the counter, cleaning it of some of the sugar. Yet his other hand didn’t leave you. His thumb remained on your lower lip, feeling every twitch and breath. 

“Why?” You whispered, his thumb slipping against your lip and coming dangerously close to falling into your mouth. 

“You never offered me anything of your stash,” Alastor spoke softly.

“You don’t like sweets,” You hadn’t wanted to waste his time when you had made the decision to dismantle your stash. It had been a emotionally difficult choice, one that you had made before and never stuck to for long until now. “Or junk food.”

“You ignored me.” Alastor’s thumb slipped, running along her lower lip but never leaving it. “I thought if you had better options…”

“I’d share them with you?” Your voice was coming out so soft now, Alastor’s tall ears cocked forward to better pick up your words. 

“But you didn’t.” 

“I didn’t share them with anyone.” You whispered. “I didn’t want to share them with anyone.”

“Why?” 

“I wanted to keep them all to myself. They were too good to share. I-” 

Alastor’s thumb slipped into your mouth, cutting off whatever you had been about to say. Sticky sweetness exploded across your tongue as his thumb caressed it. You could feel the point of his nail against your tongue, a hint of danger coated in sweet sugar. 

Your mind was numb as you caressed the pad of his thumb, rolling the tip of your tongue under his nail softly. You were not sure what he wanted from you. The idea of overstepping Alastor’s unspoken boundaries was terrifying. This was uncharted waters. A side of Alastor you had never seen or even dared to dream of seeing. 

Alastor watched you as you stood near frozen. “Under some circumstances, I enjoy a sweet.” 

~~~~~<3

See part 2 for the smut.

[itsabouttimex2]

Can we get an eclipse King's continuation does y/n wake up?

Eclipse Kings

Part Two: Barbed Dusk

(Part One: Mountain Monkeys) (Part Two: You Are Here) (Part Three: Wild Dawn)

(Extra One)

(You are a ragged little thing, unfit for luxury or lavishness. “Thankfully”, Macaque sees to curating your hygiene.)

They are covered in scars.

The Six-Eared Macaque; golden eyes dimmed in frustration and impatience, is now bereft of his crown. It had borne him a striking silhouette, each wicked spike on the circlet fashioned from gold.

You could not have known it yourself, and the shadowy king would never admit it to one whom he deigned a necessary pest as most, but… he had commissioned it only a week after losing his beloved Xiaotian.

With tear-stained cheeks and gouges torn into his fur from constant scraping, the simian had wobbled down from the mountain and into the nearest smithy, then threw down a glittering heap of golden coins. His only request had been; spoken brokenly, for “something that would hurt”.

The blacksmith had been hesitant at first. The request was unusual—not for the opulence offered, for he had forged again and again petty trinkets to sooth a lord’s ego. No, it was the pain. The simian’s trembling voice and sunken eyes spoke of a sorrow too vast to comprehend, but the blacksmith had seen enough grief bite down any questions. Instead, he had worked through the night, the rhythm of hammer on gold ringing out in the silence, a somber requiem for the monkey’s fresh loss.

So the blacksmith had fashioned him a twisted crown from that heap of treasure, taking what little was left as payment after beating the metal into a branching circlet that splintered out into harsh thorns, then plated it with rhodium to darken and reinforce the malleable gold underneath.

“It’ll hurt,” the man had reminded him, touching the crown only with his thickest gloves.

The look in Macaque’s eyes had told him enough- “I want it to,” spoken through his hollow eyes and gaunt frame and torn fur, but left unsaid on trembling lips.

And Macaque had taken it with his bare hands, punishing his treacherous fingers for “allowing” his son to slip through them.

He had not allowed his agony to end there.

The sharp tips bit into his scalp, drawing thin rivulets of crimson that trailed through inky fur, leaving raw furrows through its heartless embrace. He hadn’t winced or cried or paused, instead pressing it down further and further, lips curling into a grimace that might have once been a smile, his heart brittle and sharp like fractured glass.

It would hurt, but never as much as losing his son.

An unassailable grief, incapable of transmutation into vengeance or betterment.

Until you.

Until you had wandered into their stately pagoda, wandering through the lavish halls and snatching their food, leaving the trail of an all too familiar scent in your wake.

Until you had ran from them in fright as so many had years ago, twisting through woods just as jagged and thorned as the crown that Macaque had finally pried from his forehead, smashed and discarded at the empty grave they had fashioned for their found son.

You had led them back to him.

That thought alone keeps Macaque’s hands gentle as he lathers a thick sponge with fragrant soap, wetting it and rolling the squashy corpse* against your forearms.

His mate, holding his own sponge, tends to your legs with a manic smile- it hasn’t dropped even after a full night of sloppy celebration and utter destruction. Every last little memorial and shrine they had created now lay in pieces around the pagoda, only sparing what little the prince himself would have use for- the clothes and toys they had left on these altars as gifts that would have been now resided in the boy’s room-

“It’s Y/N’s room, too,” the little one had insisted, forcing them to make arrangements appropriate for both a demon toddler and a mortal… whatever age you were. Folding screens and an extra mat.. but nothing else. Not from malice, though- they simply hadn’t quite learned what else to put in “your” room.

There was no need to separate what was his from what was yours- you simply didn’t have anything at all. Every little luxury you had accumulated in that muddy rattrap was all for your brother.

The boy’s bed, piled high with plush animals and soft quilts, had been eagerly pushed closer to yours, left with “only” a few pillows and a single blanket as he excitedly prepared to sleep in warmth and safety for the first time in years.

(Only was not a word you knew. There was no “only” in the life of one who owned nothing.)

“You had enough of a nap on the way here,” Sun Wukong sighs. “So stay awake a little longer. We can’t let you go to bed filthy or injured.”

You want to protest. To scream and cry and plead for them to take their hands off of you, to let you return to that familiar; if squalid, hovel, to let you- and your brother- go back to the only home either of you had ever known.

But words die on your chapped lips, too exhausted to be parted for begging.

You just lay there in the tub, head held aloft by one of Wukong’s muscled hands, completely incapable of moving or protesting. You just… sit there, and accept the reluctant doting.

MK (“Qi Xiaotian”), the kings and all their soldiers and maids say. You don’t think there’ll ever be a moment that you’re used to that. ) sits next to the tub with worry in his little black eyes, trying his hardest to focus on the book he was gifted by his fathers- hand-drawn pictures of him decorate each page, detailing his growth from baby to toddler. Supposedly it would “stir his memory”, but the effort seemed futile- he had simply been too young to remember anything before you.

Neither of you were truly “home” in this pagoda, no matter how they tried to push you into believing that.

MK would adjust, definitely. He would come to enjoy plush toys and doting maids and loving fathers, ample food and warm water. He could grow to love silk pillowcases and wool blankets. He could grow to love warm halls and loving fathers.

He hadn’t lived like you had. No, MK had spent his time safely inside that wretched dump, playing with whatever toys you could scrounge for him, chasing little bugs and cooing at the occasional rabbit or squirrel that came in for shelter.

This was going to be harder for you.

The warmth of the water feels unfamiliar, outright alien in its softness . You are too used to icy streams that prick at your skin, the dry rasp of dirt and grime. Here, the milky water cradles you like a cloud.

Help.

You are being helped .

And you know what that means. Help comes at a cost. A leering smile from a vendor who would try and tail you through the woods. A begrudging shove of stale bread into your hands after a trade. Mumbled curses about a “pest” under the breath of a housewife giving you a chunk of too-ripe fruit.

What price will this cost?

The thought churns uneasily in your gut as Sun Wukong tilts your head upward, his golden eyes studying your face. They gleam like the sun, but there is no warmth for you.

(Not yet.)

They’re calculating, cataloging each bruise, each scrape. Every pale white line scarred deep and unremovable. The truth of agony is plain on your skin, a map of suffering written in purples, blues, and scabbed reds.

It does not miss him that his son is, in turn, totally unblemished.

Admiration without love. Gratitude without familiarity. Respect without want.

You have done him a greater favor than any other being could provide- you are owed praise and repayment, that much the vaunted kings know.

You are deliverance from grief and agony and a haunting eternity of wondering “what could I have done to save him?”.

But you are not his child.

The golden king’s hands are steady as he finishes rinsing the soap from your hair, the last traces of filth swirling down into the bathwater, which drains into a little bamboo pipe leading outside.

One of them, you don’t care to see which, wraps a towel around you. It smells faintly of mint and ginseng- things the rich put in their soaps and lotions.

The silence stretches, broken only by the soft lapping of water and the occasional creak of the tub as one of them shifts. You think you should feel safer in this moment, surrounded by warmth and covered neck to ankle, but the unease still roils in your stomach, a highly coiled spring just waiting to snap.

The unease is not lost on MK, who cuts through it like hot butter.

Y/N!” He cheerily calls, catching your attention. You turn your head slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. He’s holding the book up for you to see, a wide, gap-toothed grin plastered across his face. “Look! This is me! When I was a baby!”

The drawing he points to looks almost too real, imperceptible from reality aside from the lightly yellowed edges. An infant demon with wide, curious eyes, bundled in blankets, his tail peeking from the swaddle You glance at the page, then back to MK, who looks at you expectantly.

You don’t know what he wants you to say.

You don’t even want to speak.

But you manage a “It’s cute,” voice cracking from disuse. It’s the first thing you’ve said since they brought you here, and it feels strange. “ Very cute, kiddo.”

The silence grows tenser for your words, winding further through the room and forcing it into unease. And, like before, MK keeps going in spite of it.

“You’re gonna get sick if you don’t wear something warm,” MK fussed, tugging on the towel with one little paw. “You need to put some clothes on! And you need something to drink!”

“Your Baba can get them something to wear,” Wukong coos, tapping one clawed finger against his son’s rosy snout. “The maids sewed up some nice clothes for the two of you.”

“Moonlight, if you’ll get the paste, I’ll run and grab what they made.”

Macaque nods and releases you to sit alone on the floor, turning to scrounge through his lavish cabinets, each one stocked with a costly product that you couldn’t put a name to, paired to a price that would make your eyes water if you heard it spoke aloud.

You sit motionless on the tiles, towel wrapped tightly around your bruised shoulders. The plush fabric is too heavy, too soft. It’s not comforting—it’s suffocating. Every nerve in your body screams at you to run , but… to where? To what ? There’s no dirty stream to lose your scent in, no puddle of mud to smear yourself with for camouflage. There is no place left but here .

As you think on escapes, Macaque’s shadow coils- like a wispy vein of smoke- along the floor, and for a moment, you swear it’s alive, flickering toward you like a snake.

But you blink and then it is still, unshifting and steady.

You don’t imagine things often. You can’t bring yourself to think that this was one of those rare circumstances.

…he’s even more dangerous than you had believed, and with that dawning revelation a little spark of hope is squashed in your chest.

The sable king turns to you with two glads jars, both smelling of fresh herbs even through their seals. One he sets on the wooden rim of the bathtub, and the other he brings to you- the contents glow from within, faintly white and luminescent, as though moonlight itself had been processed and bottled.

“This is going to sting,” the king warns, dipping his claws into the glittering paste to scrape out a generous, gelatinous lump. “But it’ll keep you from getting infections.”

Everything hurts, and you are tired. So, so very tired that your eyes smear the colors of the world all around, incapable of perceiving fine details. All the embroidery of Macaque’s kingly robe, purple and black and silver, blend into a dark blob as he approaches, as he kneels, peels away the top of the robe, and begins to smear the paste across your upper body.

The searing sting is immediate , sharp enough to make you gasp, breath catching in your throat. It feels like fire crawling across your skin, burning out the grime and decay that had wormed under your flesh. It hurts, worse than icy waters soaking your feet in winter, worse than all the hounds that bit at your heels as you leapt fences, worse than all the beatings you had taken when your thieving was thwarted.

Throughout all your life, only one thing has brought worse pains- hunger. But even that feels like a distant memory now, boiled away by the sensation of prickling, running through your skin in a steady march.

Macaque pulls away with a little huff, shrugging his shoulders as you twitch and writhe in place.

“Be grateful. That stuff costs an eye and a half.”

It’s strikingly casual for a demon of his status, speaking almost like a…

Maybe he had spoken like this to MK once.

Maybe he was settling back into it, with his son back, and simply didn’t think to harshen his tone with you, given his preoccupation with unscrewing the second jar.

“This is something we’ve been trying to spread in that mortal village of yours- a paste blend to scrub teeth with. Mint, ginseng, and some rock salt…”

“…why, um. Why is it… why just for mortals and not demons, too?”

“Yaoguai grow their teeth back once they’re damaged- doesn’t matter if they rot out or get snapped. A new one grows in after the old. Mortals need to take care of what they’ve got. So one of our, ugh “Sworn Brothers”- with a real soft spot for squishy little mortals - worked to make this stuff with another of our “brothers”. He even gave us a crate for our own citizens.”

“…he seems nice,” you remark, thinking on the existence such a benevolent immortal. “I hear most demons just eat mortals.”

“Most yaoguai do,” he snaps, eye twitching at the term you used. “And those yaoguai have tried to break into our village before, and my mate has always protected all of you, even before I came in and married him. Now we protect all of you from yaoguai together.”

(…if he weren’t twice your size and equipped with claws and fanged canines, you might’ve seen fit to call him something mean.)

“Now, open your mouth.”

“…excuse me?”

“It’s an herbal paste. For your mouth. You wet it with clean water and scrub it over your teeth- it scrapes out filth, and there’s not much else you brought with you into our pagoda.”

“Hmm, almost like I didn’t bring shit because-“

Snapping through the air like a whip, he interjects with a snarled- “Language .”

Macaque’s eyes are narrow, golden irises flickering with a dangerous edge that makes your stomach churn. He leans closer, looming over you, and you’re suddenly reminded - and quite vividly- of the disparity in your sizes, in your positions. His shadow shifts, darker, heavier, wrapping around your silhouette in a way that feels utterly suffocating .

Your mouth clamps shut instinctively, a primal reaction to the unspoken threat. A dozen instincts claw at you: run, fight, scream—but there’s nowhere to run, no fight you can win, nothing. So, you simply sit there, jaw tight, avoiding his gaze, your whole body trembling like a leaf in a storm.

The shadow king exhales sharply through his nose and leans back, his oppressive presence retreating as he composes himself. When he speaks again, his tone is quieter, though still sharp enough to make you flinch.

“You’ve had it rough,” he says, somewhat reluctantly. “I get it. But you’re under our roof now. Which means you obey our rules. Watch your tongue, brat.”

Submission is a bitter taste you’ve rarely sampled- rare is it that you lie down and grudgingly accept a losing lot. But there is no choice now- he is stronger, faster, smarter. You have lost without even making a move.

“You haven’t been here a day, and you’re already biting a hand that hasn’t had time to feed you.”

“I didn’t ask to be here”, is what you want to say, to scream about the unfairness of being ripped away from a home that you were at least familiar with… but you’ve been cowed, and thus, simply open your mouth.

Reluctantly, you open your mouth.

“Good,” he says, his tone softer now, though still carrying that edge of command. He dips a soft-bristled tool you hadn’t noticed before into the herbal paste and scrapes up a small amount, before lightly dipping it into a small jar of water, then maneuvers that unfamiliar tool into your mouth with some small measure of gentleness.

The first bristles touch your teeth, and the sensation is strange. Foreign. Not painful, exactly, but intrusive. You flinch, more out of instinct than anything else, and Macaque pauses, his eyes narrowing just slightly.

“It won’t hurt. Or taste bad. Azure made sure none of this would be unpleasant for a mortal.”

You try to nod, though it’s awkward with the tool in your mouth. Macaque takes it as a cue to continue, brushing your teeth with a deliberate circular rhythm. long. But, true to his word, the paste doesn’t sting or leave an acrid aftertaste- instead, it’s cool and herbal, with a faint sweetness from the mint. The bristles tickle more than anything, and after a moment, your teeth start to feel… bare.

Stripped of grit and mud. Of moldy leftovers and bits of sand.

The grime that’s been built up after years of poor living is stripped like bark is peeled from a tree, in that all that is left under the coating is a smooth, soft white. The sensation is uncomfortable in its newness, leaving your mouth feeling raw and exposed. Your tongue darts along the surface of your teeth, licking again and again at the lack of filth.

“There,” Macaque huffs, pulling back as he dips the brush into a bowl of water to rinse it clean. “Clean enough that you don’t have an excuse for getting sick.”

You swallow thickly, avoiding his gaze. You don’t feel like thanking him. Not after everything.

Instead, you glance toward MK, who’s still engrossed in his book. He’s watching you through the corner of his eye, waiting for some kind of signal. You don’t know what he expects from you—a smile? A reassurance?

It seems like you’re as much a stranger to him as he is to you, despite your efforts to keep him safe all these years.

A demon prince hailing from the kings of Flower Fruit Mountain, heir to the throne.

To you, he had only ever been a sweet little brother.

Did you realty know him at all?

The thought alone is too much.

The warmth of the bath, the suffocatingly tight towel, the newness of your teeth, the watchful eyes of a being so much stronger than you. It’s all too much. You sit down and draw your knees up to your chest, clutching the towel tightly, a silent plea for space that you will not receive.

The tension in the air again grows palpable, but before it can thicken further, the golden king reappears, his arrival announced by the clink of glittering beads against tile. Sun Wukong strides in with a bundle of neatly folded clothes in hand, his gaze flicking between you and Macaque.

“I can take over from here, moonlight.”