#third best response: make fun of them right back. taunt and tease. works best if you truly don’t give a shit abt the hate

[mars-ipan]

kinda bored. when will someone send me stupid anon hate so i can laugh

[ohheyitsokay]

out or in

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish” Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader 

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, both implications of sex and brief explicit sexual content, mostly fluff

summary: a collection of moments about always choosing the ones we love

>>

It’s a romantic little outing – a walk to the park, flowers tucked behind ears, a gazebo by the pond. Santiago looks good with flowers in his curls, and they stick well. He’s got that look in his eyes, the one that says he thinks of the two of you hung the stars, and his broad shoulders look void of weight in the evening sun.

Will can’t keep his hands off of you, which is strange, but not unwelcome. He keeps running his hand through your hair or pulling you into sudden hugs, and it makes Santi smile.

The three of you are waiting for Frankie and Ben to come, settling into the white benches and enjoying the dappled lighting that sways with the vines overhead. Your Ironhead practically pulls you into his lap as your other lover goes in search of ducklings. Watching him, Will kisses your temple, your cheek, the side of your neck.

You close your eyes, just for a moment. It’s mandatory, really, because these moments are few and far between. Soft noises from the nature around you, smells of flowers and the musk of your lover, and most of all, his open affection. When was the last time his confidence overrode his calculating brain?

When you open them again, a woman is walking by, chattering on her phone, and her heels slow when she catches sight of Santi.

The pillars of the gazebo shroud you from her, and Will holds you tight as you watch her hang up, a twitch in her hips. You miss her greeting, but not the way Santi turns towards her, his face polite and neutral.

“I’m just here with them,” he waves and points, and you see an incorrect realization on her face as she glances shrewdly. The two of you are wrapped up in each other, his hands wandering even still – she thinks she knows.

“So you’re the third wheel?” the woman all but purrs, eyes fluttering in a way that makes you roll your own. So fixed is she on the warm tone of his skin and the stubble across his jaw, that she misses both the darkness of his eyes, and approaching footsteps.

“Not at all,” his words are simple and you grin.

“Like hell you aren’t,” Benny says, slipping an arm around his Pope. They came up less than quietly, watching without your patient interest. Will huff’s a laugh, almost proud at the kiss and raised eyebrow his brother gives the woman, who’s stepping back, suddenly uncertain.

She turns to Frankie, mistakes his soft edges for vulnerability, and changes targets. Hes handsome as a warm fall walk, and she drinks him in. All shy backtracking and twirls of hair, she reaches for his arm, playing all the right cards for sympathy.

But his eyes, deep and brown are unwavering as he shifts away. You see his mouth move – a quiet nope, with a p that pops, and the both you and Ironhead shake with silent laughter.

No one explains as she sputters and spins, trying helplessly to say have a good day, and as she near runs away and you feel a little guilty.

Mostly, though, you feel lucky as you see your eager boys making their way over and loved as they’re already reaching for you.

“That was fun,” Will pulls Frankie close to replace your warmth. Arms around Santi's neck you laugh again, feeling matching rumbles at your front and back.

“We should go out more often,” Benny says, resting his chin atop your head. You can hear the mirth in his voice, but of all of them, he thrives in awkwardness the best.

“Great idea, Ben.” Frankie doesn’t even have to roll his eyes.

“It’s fun confusing people,” the blonde defends, pulling back to flap a hand. Of course he thinks so, and of course Catfish disagrees.

“As long as the people who aren’t confused are us,” Will catches Santi's eye, and you feel him rumble again, squeezing you.

“I agree.”

-

Will walks in to see you completely on top of Frankie, sleeping against his chest. It’s a welcome sight, after a long, long week, and his layers shed as Frankie beams at him. The smile is void of gloating or even teasing, filled only with a hard earned joy. He loves the moments you crash into him, drawing out the weight on his mind and replacing it with you.

“That seems a little selfish,” his watcher teases, his deep, dry voice making you stir a little.

Frankie pulls an understanding face and shifts, letting you slide between him and the back of the couch, opening up for the other man. Your eye peaks open long enough to see Will’s smile, before you feel him, warm and close.

He’s taller, but it’s a practiced fit, and the couch was bought specifically for all of their width and height.

The man beneath you let’s out a groaning breath, like the weight of one of his loves hadn’t been quite enough. Silence fills the air, thick and warm as cocoa on a chilly evening, the three of you taking slow, indulgent sips. Hands rub shoulders and slide over unwinding muscles before they still, thankful for the heartbeats just beneath the surface.

And then the moment slides away, as Frankie remembers a story from work – his excitement is contagious. His deep eyes are bright, the lilt of his voice exaggerated by the animation that fills him head to toe, and you climb over them to find a glass of water. You'd already heard the story, and you need to wake up for the evening.

Santi’s in the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket, and hes pulling you by the hip into his arms. His skin is cool from their air outside, and he seeks your warmth with playful pleading, rubbing his nose along your cheek, your neck, and blowing puffs into your hair. The squeaks you make only spur him, happy kisses following the pre-made path, and he laughs, really laughs, for no real reason.

“Come,” he says, after finding your lips once more, “it’s almost time.” And you wake fully, checking the clock. He’s right, and both of you rush back to the others.

Ben’s fight is on the screen, and your boys are sitting, telling you for the thousandth time how rude it is that they cut off spectators.

“I know, I know,” you shush Will with your mouth, a chaste, chiding kiss, and he softens, pulling you back down. The sleepy satisfaction is long gone, dissipated by his talk with Frankie, and their inevitable excitement as they traded bits of wisdom. Now, it’s time to watch his brother, and to feel the bones in your hand creak as Frankie winces at every punch.

The fight is a short one, and you’re almost glad you didn’t drive an hour for it – your sweet Benny hardly gives the other guy a chance. He blows a kiss at the camera, and Santi says, “Mine,” before sticking his tongue out.

“How do you know?” Frankie protests, reaching over to smack him.

“Hush, he’ll call in just a minute,” you scold, snipping a budding argument, and rolling your eyes. “You can ask him then, if you want.”

You were right – and he called you, probably well aware of the bickering he caused. Speakerphone is mandatory, as deep voices shout their approval.

“The kiss was for all of you,” he says. “Minus Will.” He rolls his eyes, as Frankie makes a triumphant noise.

Over the responsive banter you change the topic.

“How soon will you be home?”

“Why baby, the whole crew there, and you still miss me?” Tonight’s win had gone straight to his head.

Will appears behind you, rumbling, his hand sliding up you shirt in a single, fluid motion.

“Watch yourself,” he said, loud enough for the phone to catch it. “I’d say we’re doing just-"

“- Fine,” the others catch his drift, lowered eyelids and knowing smirks making their way around. Just as fluid, Frankie pulls at you, settling your core over his thigh, his dark eyes asking for permission. Denying him is unfathomable – their touches already perfectly placed and hot.

The gasp leaves your lips before you even think to stop it.

“Fuck,” Benny’s voice is lower, even through the phone. “Don’t you dare!” The command falls flat, his damage done. Bra shoved away, Will rolls a nipple between his fingers as Santi’s hand palms you through the fabric as best he can, always eager to join the torture.

“Hurry up then,” he adds, watching you grind and melt beneath them, knowing the other man is already regretting his words.

“No fair!” you hear the slam of his locker and grin, already too far gone to stop their antics.

Frankie coaxes you off his thigh, hands busy as he began to rid your of your clothes. You’re slick with want, holding whatever you can brace yourself against, as they lovingly remind him what he’s missing.

“Would you rather we let you listen, hot shot?” it’s both a taunt and an offer, and you see wide eyes and feel eager twitches.

There was a moment of silence, before Benny’s curse cracks into the air, needy and nearly breathless.

And you’re suddenly glad you got a nap in earlier. If the last five minutes are any indication, it’s going to be a long night.

-

“No, but thanks for checking again,” you say, trying not to sound sarcastic. Benny is using his best puppy eyes, even pulling down the thick scarf his mama gave him to pout at you.

“But I made us the coolest fort, you said so yourself!”

“My love, it’s cold.” You respond, kissing his surprisingly warm cheek. “The others have already tried.”

You wave at Will over his shoulder as he packs yet another snowball for their war. A hit to the back of the head is a fitting distraction, and Ben kisses you quickly before he runs off to his corner of the yard.

And as much fun as it could be to watch, you close the door to the freezing air, knowing if you don’t, the next one will be coming for you.

You end up by the window, catching glimpses through the thick white frost, as you Google new winter recipes. And you’re thoroughly wrapped up in a distraction when a hand slips into yours

“Oh, hello,” you grab at it, trying to warm the fingers between your palms. “Too cold for Catfish?”

He nods, sighing as you try to thaw him.

“Come,” you say, leading him to the kitchen. He’s like a bear, lumbering after you, thickened with winter layers, but with meek obedience and eyes filled with adoration.

“Cocoa, love?” it’s hardly a question.

“Please, Frankie?” He kisses you in confirmation, seemingly growing even lager as he glows with pride. No recipe you’ve ever found gets the spices as perfect as he can, and it’s his joy to brew if for you all.

Before, though he turns the kettle on, heating water for the bottles, knowing any moment what will happen. And he’s never wrong. The door opens with a gust of chill wind, making snowflakes cling to their winter beards.

Just as the hot water bags are filled, and the rest finds its way into a footpan, Santi trudges through the door, huffing with laughter but with spikes of pain shooting from his knees. You help him settle into cushions, resting his joints, as Will and Benny tumble in, shedding soaking layers and telling you the final battle.

Passing out steaming mugs you kiss their cheeks and they know the truth – adventures should be taken and fun should be had, but nowhere was better than right here with you.

-

It happens rarely: waking up perfectly encompassed by your loves. Someone’s elbow was always poking or beard would tickle, and the first to wake would inevitably wiggle and jostle limbs.

But when it does, it’s bliss.

Your tucked into Will’s side – his beard is soft and smells like books and clean linens and the way it feels when rain pours down after weeks of drought.

Frankie is behind him, pressing close, and Santi is near a second skin, he’s sandwiched you so tightly. You can the shape of Benny beyond Frankie's fluff of hair, and for once, you don’t feel the need to move. Deep breathes a contented mid-dream murmurs push away the reminder that one of you must leave – a least for long moments.

But then you notice the pace of the heart beneath your hand, and prepare yourself for the rub of his jaw along his temple. Your Will would never risk the movement of kissing you before he knew you were awake.

“Good morning,” your voice is barely audible, just for him.

“I love you,” his response is just as quiet, but equally filled with love.

Neither of you says anything else, just shifting ever-so-slightly to kiss each other, unable to resist. Then you settle again, cherishing the squeezes and pacified rumbles, and dreaming of drifting off again.

You know he won’t - can’t, with a stupid Saturday meeting on it’s way, but you wish he would. All of you hate when he’s robbed like this, hate that he has to count down the minutes and then untangle himself and climb away. Feeling his heart race pick up again, you know he’s anxious. It goes against his nature to disturb, to break a perfect moment.

“Stop thinking so loud.” Benny groans, quiet, but not quite so in-control. “Here.”

He flops, pawing the end table before finding Will’s phone and tossing it to him, before settling forward against Frankie again. The whole time his eyes barely opened more than a hair, awake exclusively for the greater good.

A small, conflicted noise grumbles in Will’s throat, but then, to your amazement, he frees a hand and begins to draft an excuse.

“Tell them it could be an email,” Santi’s voice is thick with sleep.

“Because it could be,” Frankie adds, reaching for the phone. His eyes are puffy, wincing at the brightness, but if Will doesn’t call off the meeting, someone has to. Huffing, the man beneath you snatches it back, making incomprehensible comments about how he’s the only one who knows what to say.

You shift to kiss him again, shocked in spite of yourself. All this time, he’s never called in sick, no matter how deeply he’s been tempted. But more proud than anything.

It’s a perfect morning – too good to spoil. He sends it and tosses his phone, satisfied sighs and sleepy high fives making him chuckle. And you pull the blankets back in place, tucking in the joy for a few hours more.

>>

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina

[faofinn]

No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS

@whumptober

@whumptober-archive

Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

He stalked out, wiping the blood from his knuckles, and let this waiting men have their way with him. They didn’t hold back, teasing and mocking him as they had their fun, punches and hits landing across his ribs, his chest, his face. Something to wear him down, get him more inclined to talk to the boss. 

Eventually, they got bored of beating him up. The blood lost its excitement pretty quickly, and with Harrison battered and on the verge of unconsciousness, he’d lost his thrill. He barely even grunted now. They left him for a while, keen to let him regain some rational thought before they had another go. He couldn’t talk if he was dead, or unconscious. 

After some discussion with the boss, they decided to try a more unorthodox approach. Everyone knew the Daniels’ men were hard to break just through physical means. They needed to go more psychological. 

Harrison was tired. The assaults hadn't stopped in what felt like hours, but he assumed it was more. His head felt like it was exploding, each rib grated with every shallow breath. He'd thrown up more than once, too, much to the amusement of the others around him. By the end of their fun, he barely had the energy to raise his head. His smartarse comments were toned down and scaled back, too worried that he'd let something slip that he shouldn't. 

When they came back nearly a full 12 hours later, they were laughing. Even Henri was with them, though he hung back and let them do the work. He was just here to watch, he had no intention of letting his suit get dirty. 

Harrison kept his head low, watching the gang enter. He did his best to seem unbothered by it all, but there was more than a little excitement in their attitude - and that worried him. 

They laughed as they shoved the chair to the floor, his head smacking off the floor of the cell. His quiet groan only made their laughter louder, taunts flying. 

From his position on the floor, his view of what was coming next was almost nonexistent. As the cloth was placed over his face, though, he knew exactly what was coming next. 

He could take pretty much anything. He'd endured days of prolonged torture, sleep deprivation, and starvation. But this? He couldn’t do it, and he knew he'd made his bed when he started fighting against his restraints.

Henri chuckled, stepping closer. “I think he’s scared, boys. Have we hit a nerve?” He purred. 

His chest heaved. "You fucking wish."

“Mm, I think I’m right.”

"I don't think you've ever been right."

“I was right about that blonde whore you all protect.” He said, circling him. He knew he couldn’t see, but he’d hear the clack of his shoes over the concrete. “Go on, boys. Let’s see who’s right.” He said, snapping his fingers. One of the men approached, and poured the water over his face. 

Harrison started coughing almost immediately, his fear getting the better of him. He writhed under their grasp, trying to get away. 

They enjoyed the coughing and the struggle, Harrison making it blatantly obvious this wasn’t something he could tolerate like the punches. Henri let them go on for a little longer before he raised his hand, and they stopped. 

“Are you going to talk to us now?”

He couldn't breathe, there was no chance of him being able to talk. He managed to clear his throat enough to gasp for air, tears already falling.

“Oh, look at the state of him already.” One of the men said. “Fucking crying.”

“Looks like I was right, then.” Henri said. “Are you going to talk? Or are you going to sit there crying like a baby?”

"Fuck you." He spat, trying to act braver than he felt. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He teased. “Go on boys, again. We’ll break him.”

"Best fuck you'd get." He retorted, twisting out the way.

“Hold him down.” Henri ordered, and two men moved forwards to pin him before a third poured the water over him again. 

His sarky response was cut short, suddenly choking again. He did his best to stay calm, to remember that this was just his job and he'd be able to get out of it. He'd been through enough before that it would just be added to the list. Or, at least, that's what he tried to convince himself. They didn't give up, and he couldn’t hold his breath forever. He didn’t have a choice but to try, immediately being met with water and more laughter as he choked.

“You can’t hold your breath forever, Carlos.” Henri goaded. 

It was as though all the blood had been drained from him. His fight, too, was gone, one simple word breaking through the barriers he'd made. 

“Oh, was it the personal touch? That name was hard to find, I’ll admit. You’re clever, but I’m persistent, and I’ll get what I want in the end.” Henri purred. “You’ll talk to us now.” He raised a hand and the water stopped again. 

Harrison didn't bother to retaliate, though his chest heaved as he tried to breathe. He wouldn't talk. He couldn't.

“No more sarcasm now, hmm? I almost miss it.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched tight. He owed it to the Daniels to not say anything, as much as he claimed to not have alliances. Henri couldn’t find out, especially not from him.

“Come on now, don’t be shy.” Henri said, moving to take the cloth from Harrison’s face. “Talk to me.”

"Fuck you." He managed, his voice trembling. 

Laughing, Henri rung the cloth out, letting the water drip onto Harrison’s face.

Harrison couldn't help it, flinching away from the droplets. He kept his face turned away from Henri, pralying he'd get bored of him soon.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Henri said, crouching beside him and digging his fingers into his chin to turn his head. 

"Get off." He grunted, jerking his head back. 

That earned him a slap. “Now, now, there’s no need to be rude.”

"You should take your own advice."

“And where’s the fun in that?”

"I'd be having more fun."

“You’re not enjoying this? A shame.”

"Your hospitality has been a bit crap."

“That’s rude.”

"Pretty much just like you then." He knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn't let them think he was rattled. 

“We’ll let you go if you just tell us what you know.”

"I don't know anything."

“Don’t lie to me.”

"I'm not."

Henri dropped the cloth, and snapped his fingers. “That’s alright, we’ll jog your memory.”

"Please." Harrison's voice broke. 

Henri grinned. “Oh, we’ll stop eventually.”

"You might as well kill me." His attempts to get free were pointless. "I'm not going to tell you shit."

“I’ve invested far too much time in you to kill you.” He said, moving away as the water was poured over Harrison yet again. 

Harrison fought against the men holding him, against the restraints. He bucked and writhed, but to no use. Henri was wrong, he was going to kill him. 

They poured the water for a long time, with no opportunity for Harrison to catch his breath. Henri could tell that somehow they’d hit a trigger, and he was going to make the very most of it. They’d push Harrison right to the very edge. 

When they finally removed the cloth from his face, he didn’t fight. He struggled to breathe, his vision only growing darker. He didn't have the energy to keep this up, and he knew that Henri was all too aware of it. 

One of the men looked over at Henri, who was enjoying the way Harrison’s chest heaved and he struggled to cling onto consciousness. “Boss, he doesn’t look too good…”

He tutted. “Again.”

“Boss?”

“I. Said. Again.”

[xseaxwitchxkpop]

Have Your Cake and Eat It, Too (3)

Kinda sad I can’t make a pun with this title, but oh well. This is the third part and perhaps the final (unless someone wants like a funny/crack part four with the members pressing Yunho and San about why they spent the night). I hope y’all enjoy, ya filthy animals.

Part One // Part Two

Disclaimers/CW:  mommy kink, fem!reader, dom!reader, dom!Yunho, sub!San, tall!reader, plussize!reader, daddy kink, anal, pussy eating, masturbation, nipple play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), riding, ass eating, hair pulling, choking, fingering, communication is important (everything discussed beforehand), consent is sexy

Requested: NO

Group: ATEEZ -- San, Yunho

Word Count: 3,110

You cracked your eyes open, awoken by gentle ministrations on your clit. You sighed, not gaining any sexual pleasure from it, but it was certainly relaxing. You craned your neck to the right, locking eyes with Yunho who was responsible for the hand on your pussy. 

“Good morning, sleepy head, how you doin’?” he asked, ending the question with a sleepy smile full of mischief. You lifted your hand from San’s shoulder, who was still sound asleep, and gently smacked Yunho, who dipped a couple of fingers into your pussy as a response.

A soft moan left your lips, and he curled his fingers, not quite hitting your g-spot, but it still felt good nonetheless. 

You felt more than heard San mumble against your chest, head buried in your chest. “What’d you say, Sannie?” you whispered.

He lifted his head and looked at you, then sort of turned his head towards Yunho, squinting his eyes in the gentle yellow light of the sun. “I said,” he began, yawning a little before continuing, “why are you playing without me? It’s my birthday, not yours.”

Yunho chuckled softly and removed his fingers from your pussy and moved them to message San’s asshole. San mewled, opening his eyes further and sucking in a breath. You scooted out of the bed as Yunho rolled San onto his stomach, sticking a finger in and San moaning into the sheets. 

As Yunho worked San’s hole open, you took off your dress, feeling awkward that you were the only one with clothes on; you felt a wet spot on the front where San presumably drooled in his sleep.

You made your way to the nightstand and opened the drawer where you always had condoms stored and fished one out, checking the date to make sure it was still good. You also grabbed the lube and tapped Yunho on the shoulder, handing both to him.

When Yunho took his hands away from San’s ass, San turned around, leaning on his arm and watched Yunho roll the condom down on his cock that was standing upright and slightly red at the top. San’s mouth started to water thinking about Yunho pounding him into the mattress as he’s done before, but this time you were watching, and the thought sent a pleasant shiver up his spine and let out a low whine.

“Aw, is our cumslut so impatient for his hole to be filled?” you drawl sweetly, seated on the chair he occupied just last night and spread your legs, showing him your pussy that gleamed slightly, wet thanks to Yunho’s morning fingers.

Yunho took San by the shoulders and pulled him to his knees, San facing you and Yunho at his back. Slowly, Yunho slipped a couple of lubed fingers into San’s asshole, earning a small “fuck” from the male in question and grabbed his hair to force his eyes on you.

“Look at how pretty mommy’s pussy is. Looks delicious, right?” Yunho taunted San, biting his ear in the process. You were slowly circling your clit and playing with one of your nipples, making intense eye contact with San as if to say you will listen to me, you’re at my mercy, not his.

“Ngghh Sannie, baby, I need your mouth,” you moan out, continuing to play with yourself. San leaned forward but Yunho’s hand in his hair yanked him back, a moan falling from San’s mouth.

“Daddyyyyyyyy, I want mommy’s cunt, look at it,” San whined, desperately trying to get to you, cock an angry red that indicates you and Yunho are getting to him.

You dip two of your fingers in your cunt, exaggerating a moan to get a rise out of San, which worked. “The only way you get this,” you started, dragging your fingers out of you and licking them, making a show for San, “is if you take Yunho’s cock like a good whore, letting him use you as he pleases.”

San gasped as Yunho pushed his cock into San’s hole, both boys moaning as Yunho’s entire dick was swallowed by San. You watched intently, leaning on your knees and resisting to touch yourself, wanting to drink in San in all his glory from a new point of view.

Yunho slowly dragged himself out and then quickly thrusted back in, hand moving from San’s hair to his throat, squeezing lightly and the other hand splayed across San’s midsection, dragging out a long “daddy.” 

Yunho repeated this rhythm a few more times, San’s cock leaking profusely and getting some precum on the bed sheets. “Please just fuck me, master, please, I can’t take it,” San whined out when the pressure on his throat lessened.

“Daddy” was Yunho’s preferred title most of the time, but every once in a blue moon, San would let the title “master” slip in fits of desperation which snapped something in Yunho every time and made him borderline feral.

Yunho looked at you for permission and you nodded your head. Yunho took his head from San’s throat and grabbed his hair, shoving his face into the bed and picking up speed as he grabbed San’s other arm and pulled it back, half of San’s face visible and half on the bed.

“Is this what my prince wanted, hmm? Face down, ass up, completely at my mercy?” Yunho grunted out. You cleared your throat at the last part of his question, shooting daggers at him.

“I’m the one in charge, not you, jackass, keep that in mind,” you spat, leaving no room for being challenged. San let out a moan that reverberated through the room at the tension between you and Yunho, fueling his submissiveness and the feeling going straight to his cock.

Yunho picked up on your tone, but instead of heading it as a warning, he decided to challenge you back. He slowed down his thrusts to an agonizing speed that had San trying to back up, getting any sense of the previous fast friction.

“You better fuck him like the doll he is, master, or I’ll get out my cock and do it myself,” you warned, tensions between you and Yunho doing wonders to the sexual atmosphere, injecting it with a sense of danger and apprehension. The strap-on you had in mind to bring out was bigger than Yunho, so that would double the humiliation.

“Fine, mistress, he’ll be screaming in no time.”

Yunho took the bottle of lube from the bed, squirted some more onto San’s asshole, squirted some more on his own dick when he took himself out of San, then threw it back into the sheets. He reentered San, gave a couple of experimental thrusts, placed his hands on San’s hips, then set a brutal pace, locking eyes with you as San could do nothing but grip the sheets in front of him and whine and pant, closing his eyes at the sensation.

Your pussy was throbbing and you reached down to feel how wet you were; a string of wetness connected your pussy to your fingers and, keeping eye contact with Yunho, once again licked your fingers clean and it was Yunho’s turn to moan loudly. 

Your attention was turned back to San, taking in the beauty of his scrunched up nose, furrowed eyebrows, mouth making a beautifully imperfect “o” shape, and light hitting one of his hands, showing off his tanned skin and catching his veins nicely.You could see the sheen of sweat on his arm muscles and beads of sweat running down his brow; you could’ve sworn some sweat made its way into his mouth but he didn’t seem to care at all, lost in the pleasure of being pounded by Yunho and the knowledge that you were watching.

“Pl-please, nghgh, fuck, dad--mommy, I’m----” he cut himself off with a load moan, cum leaking from his cock to the bed, body twitching in response to the intensity of the orgasm and Yunho’s brutal pace not letting up, fucking him into overstimulation and all San could do was pant and whine.

You got up and made your way over to the boys, cupping San’s face in your hands. “Slow down, Yunho, I want you to come in me, not him,” you demanded, looking up at the male in question. Yunho slowed down then eventually pulled out, drawing a shiver from San as he did so. 

Yunho got off the bed, taking the condom off and making his way to the bathroom to throw it in the trash. You took the opportunity to push San onto his back, straddling him and rubbing your clit across his spent dick, making the male under you mewl in sensitivity.

Your hands were on his shoulders to steady yourself as you did so. “What do you want, whore? This pussy? Do you deserve it? Does your mouth belong on my cunt, suffocating you with my juices?” you ask, teasing him further.

San gave a small moan of indignation, trying to gain his focus back after the brutal beating his asshole just took. He looked up at you with post-orgasm haziness, nodding slowly as he absentmindedly stroked your thighs and running his hands across your chubby stomach as he always liked doing to help him ground himself.

“I didn’t hear you, slut,” you tut, forcing yourself to not give in immediately. Yunho took your place in the chair, watching the scene as you did previously.

“Yes, mommy, I’ve been good. I wanna eat you out, please,” San begged, finally gaining back most of his focus, looking up at you with hope.

You held back the urge to chastise him because your aching cunt won out. You get up and slowly guide yourself to hover over his mouth, teasing him. You couldn’t take your own teasing and sat yourself on his face. He moaned into your cunt and gripped your thighs, fingers feeling the thick flesh that made it so fun to sit on his face and squish his head.

He set to work, doing everything in his arsenal to make you feel the best, eating like a man starved. “Just like that, baby, fuck, it feels so good,” you praise, rocking back and forth for more pleasure.

Yunho was leaned back in the chair, cock now an angry red and leaking precum as he had a difficult time not to come in San’s ass and now struggling to not touch himself, saving that for when you gets a chance at felling your cunt around him, remembering how you took his entire length and girth with no problem, something he had trouble with with other female hookups.

One of your hands made work of one of your nipples while the other one gripped San’s hair, losing yourself in the pleasure that San gave you. Soon enough, he had you cumming on his face, lapping up everything he could before you pulled yourself away. 

You leaned down to smother San’s mouth, the taste of you overpowering the taste of morning breath for both parties. You felt Yunho kissing your shoulder, something you interpreted to mean that he had a question.

He made his way to your ear when you pulled away from San and asked, “You think you can ride me? I’ve been thinking about it non-stop since last night.”

You take a moment, pretending to ponder his question. “You think your dick is up for the job?” you jab as your hand reaches down to brush the organ in question. Yunho hissed at the contact, his dick twitching in your hand.

“Try me,” he responded.

You crawled off San and pulled him up off the bed as Yunho got in and settled down, smile playing on his lips and hands linked behind his head, his cock sitting perfectly against his abdomen, waiting to be used.

Before you sent San off to the chair, Yunho spoke up. “C’mere, our sweet birthday boy, I know you have another orgasm in you.” He used his fingers to motion for San to come to him; the boy in question looked at Yunho in interest, wondering what Yunho would suggest. “Let me eat your ass, baby.”

San quickly got into position and Yunho forced him down on his face by his hips. You took the opportunity to straddle Yunho and slowly plunged on his dick, relishing in the feeling of being stretched out perfectly, the tip of his dick brushing your cervix, a mix of slight pain and immense pleasure, bottoming out completely. Yunho couldn’t help but moan at the contact, San feeling the vibrations and whimpering and the sensation.

As you bounced, rocked, and moved on Yunho’s cock, you pulled San’s head towards yours as he was facing you, making out with him and him enthusiastically reciprocating. Muffled moans filled the air as your other hand went to pump San’s dick and the hand not steadying himself went to your clit, circling it in time with Yunho’s ass eating and your dick bouncing. 

It wasn’t long before Yunho busted inside of you, dick twitching and his moans muffled by San, who felt every small noise coming from Yunho’s lips. You felt Yunho’s hips stutter in an attempt to give up, but he pushed through, fucking his cum further into you as you followed after him, the sensation of his cock and the nerves of your clit being stimulated almost too much. San himself held out a little longer and it took you death-gripping his hair and kissing his neck to make him finally cum a second time.

You and San fell into each other after Yunho moved San’s ass away to catch his breath. The three of you stayed that way for a few minutes, catching your breath and basking in the fun that each of you had. 

You were the first to move, gently lifting San away from you and slowly slipping Yunho’s dick out from your pussy, letting out a satisfied sigh in the process. You gently guided San to sit beside Yunho, who took San in his arms with no hesitation and cuddled him, kissing the top of his head. 

“How about a bath, hmm? Does that sound nice, sweetheart?” you asked San gently, getting a small nod in response. You put on your bathrobe and start running the water and filling the tub with San’s favorite scent. 

Meanwhile, Yunho was petting San’s hair, telling him how well he did, San just giggling in response. “How late is it?” San wondered, turning around in Yunho’s arms and looking at the phone on the nightstand. 

“It’s only 11am. I thought it would be later,” San mused.

“Well, we did go to bed fairly early last night, so I guess we got up fairly early, too,” Yunho answered. He sat up, stretching and yawning, deciding that he’d take the responsibility of changing the sheets and general clean up as you were running the bath.

You came out of the bathroom, taking San by the arm. “Yah, Yunho, are you going to join us in the bathroom?” you said, taking in the sight of Yunho putting his underwear on and a pair of your sweatpants after cleaning San’s cum off his stomach.

“In a little bit! I’m gonna clean San’s cum off this blanket then change the sheets,” he responded, not wanting anything to crust over. You shrugged your shoulders, about to drag San into the bathroom until he stopped you.

“Y/N, can we eat some snacks in the bath? I’m starving,” he told you with his puppy-dog eyes. You didn’t see way not as this was his aftercare and there would be no further shenanigans in the tub. You nodded your head with a smile on your face and he burst into a big smile, grabbing one of the bags and dragging you to the bathroom, the smell of his favorite bubble bath already making him feel better and loved.

You got into the tub first and then San followed, leaning against your chest and then tearing open a bag of mini rice cakes outside the tub, shoving a couple in his mouth before offering one to you. You open your mouth and he puts it in, sitting in front of you so you could wash his back.

“I need to wash your hair sweetie, it’s dirty with sweat,” you said, letting him know before you dump water on his head that could accidentally get his snacks wet, which would be fun for no one. 

Yunho took care of first cleaning the blanket off with a baby wipe then throwing it in your hamper. Afterward, he took off the sheets and made his way to the cabinet where you kept your bed sheets in the living room and stepped on something hard and slightly sticky. He looked down and saw the minute leftovers of the lollipop San had in his mouth that he must’ve dropped when you took him by surprise last night. 

He took a pair of scissors off the counter and cut it from the carpet, throwing it away and proceeding with the bed sheets. When he was done and went to the bathroom, you and San were talking about an anime that you too were watching as he, at his stubborn insistence, fed you food as he fed himself, leaning against your chest and tummy. Yunho decided that at you took care of that, he’d set about putting out changes of clothes for you and San and went to the fridge to see what food you had to cook up a late breakfast, though he wasn’t sure if you and San would be hungry enough after the snacks.

After the bath, you and San got dressed and made way to the living room/kitchen hybrid area where Yunho was, looking at your fridge. “Why do you have so little food in here, Y/N? I see you eating all the time! You need to learn how to cook instead of spending money on take out.”

“Well,” you said, “take out tastes better.” Yunho closed the fridge and cocked an eyebrow at you, sighing in defeat.

“Can we go back to the cafe for brunch?” San asked, making his way to Yunho and hanging off his arm. 

“It would have to be light because of dinner at 3 with the others,” Yunho pointed out. San hummed in response, kissing Yunho on the cheek and then making his way back to you. 

“Join us for that, at least, please,” he asked you, leaning on you and sticking his chin on your shoulder.

“Alright, I can do that,” you answered, loving the way San’s face lit up and your agreement.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 3.4

Two weeks later.

"Did Xiao ever say when he'd return?"  You caught up to Aether at the front of the group.  "I'm getting worried.  And what about Mr. Zhongli?"  The team had just entered Liyue Harbor to inspect three nameless treasure boxes that you'd found all over western Liyue.

"Nope.  Not a clue.  But we can stop by the funeral parlor to look for Zhongli if you want."  

"Paimon thinks you worry too much.  The Vigilant Yaksha can handle himself just fine."

"I-I know that!"  You spoke a little too loud and a few pedestrians gave you the side eye.  The tips of your ears burned red.

"I have some business to attend to regarding the winery.  I'll meet you tomorrow morning."  Diluc walked off without another word.

"He's not a people-person just like Xiao, don't you think?" Paimon nudged you suggestively.

"What're you saying, exactly?"

"It seems our emergency food forgot her place," Aether defended you despite his urge to tease your urgency over Xiao's return.

"Stop treating Paimon like that!  I am not food!"

"She's not wrong though," Childe cozied up to you.  "A little eager to see Xiao again, are we?"

"I already told you guys, it's not like that!  I'm just antsy because he said he'd be back soon and it's been a few weeks now--"

"Sounds like you really like this Xiao person!" Bennett chirped.  "I wonder what he's like?"  He swung his arms at his side, completely carefree despite the soreness in his previously-broken arm.  It had healed within a day because of his healing abilities.

"You guys are just teasing me because I'm the only girl on the team!" You pouted and crossed your arms.

"Oh come now, don't be like that." Childe put an arm around your shoulder.  "What else did Xiao tell you before you left? How much he loves you and how much he'd miss you while you were away?  If you want, I can tell you those things too, ojou-chan〰"

"Cut it out, Childe!"  You snapped and pushed him away.  That's when you noticed a few strangers were whispering and pointing at the Harbinger.  "Hey--"

"Ah, don't concern yourself with them."  Childe returned to a more serious nature and continued to walk behind Aether.   "Let's just say I'm not as welcome in Liyue as the Traveler here."

"That's because he kicked your butt!" Paimon taunted.

"Do not forget that I've grown stronger in recent months.  If you are so certain he could defeat me a second time, I'm more than happy to prove the two of you wrong."

"Why does it feel so tense all of a sudden?"  Bennett whispered in your ear.  

"They have a weird rivalry going."

"Ah."

"We're here--annnd it's closed," Aether's shoulders drooped once the group reached the antique shop.  "'Open at 6p.m.'  Great."

"That just means we have time to relax! Quick, Paimon wants to go eat some classic Liyue dishes!"  She dragged Aether with her before he could protest.  

"Uh...we'll meet here at six!"  He called over his shoulder.

"I still don't understand how she could eat so much," Childe shrugged.  "Well then, I'm off.  I have some business to take care of at the bank.  See you soon."

"Guess it's just you and me?"  Bennett laughed nervously.

"Wanna eat lunch first?"  

Your offer lit his eyes up.  The two of you had practically become best friends during these past few weeks, and he found it a relief that you weren't phased by his bad luck even when it did backfire on you.  To think he had found such a great friend and adventure team no less--was incredibly motivating.

After several hours of eating and checking out all the harbor had to offer, you and Bennett ended at the docks.  The sun was nearly setting and cast an orange glow on its subjects.  You dangled your feet over the edge and soon enough he did the same.  

"I had so much fun today! Thank you for showing me around!"  Bennett ate the dango you had bought for him.

"Mhm!"  You didn't feign cheerfulness, but by now it was exaggerated.  Bennett caught on.

"Hey, are you okay?  You've been acting weird since this morning."

"I don't know.  I just feel lonely without him."

"The Xiao guy?  I get how that feels.  I'm always lonely," he sympathized.  "You can rant to me if you want.  I'm a good listener."

"See, that's the thing.  I'm not sure if it's safe for me to talk about it with anyone."  There were brief moments in the night in which a gentle breeze would caress your skin, but they were briefer than the first and infrequent.  Your heart ached and missed the comfort of knowing he was watching over you the longer he was gone.

Bennett quietly pondered your words while he swung his feet in the air.  "If there's anything I know about thoughts and feelings, it's that they'll tear you apart the longer you keep them bottled up."

"Yeah...you're right."  You let out a long sigh and lay your back against the cold wooden planks.  "I want to get closer to him, but it feels like something bad will happen if I do."

"What do you mean?"

"He says we might be in danger, but he won't elaborate on it.  I feel like unless that danger is eliminated, I won't have a chance to get to know him fully."

"I see."  Bennett copied your position and reached toward the sky. "Well, I think--"

"There you are," Childe entered your field of vision.  "We're all waiting for you.  The antique shop is open now."

...........................................................

"--These markings are those of Liyue," Linlang of the antique shop continued to explain as you approached the rest of the group.  "You can see inscribed here is the anecdote of Azhdaha.  They say Azhdaha was a dragon spawned by a convergence of the spirits of Geo in Liyue, and that even Rex Lapis could not easily subdue it.  Rex Lapis thus summoned three adepti to his aid, and together they created a cavernous realm.  Rex Lapis then battled the creature, luring it into the cavern, before ordering the adepti to seal the entrance, trapping Azhdaha within.  

"The patterns on the things you brought seem to describe the three adepti joining hands to create the cavern.  This crane must be the adeptus Mountain Shaper, and this deer might be Moon Carver...But this last one...huh?  It seems like this pattern has been intentionally ground away by someone to the point where I can't make anything out.  Who was this third adeptus?  Eh, no matter; this is beyond me.  Regardless, it is a complete set.  Would you like to sell them or keep them as keepsakes?  I can make a generous offer."

"We'd like to sell them!"  Paimon nearly yelled with excitement over the potential mora.

"Wait! May I see the third artifact?" The clerk held it out to you, and you examined the damaged box in your hands.  Something about this box called to you, though you didn't know why you felt that way.  You were mesmerized as you rubbed the ground-out etchings in the material with your thumb.

"Do you know something about these?" Childe suddenly became much more interested in the conversation and leaned toward you.

"I've never seen these before, but...I feel like this one is familiar."

"But there's nothing readable on it," Bennett remarked.  "How can you think it's familiar if there aren't any distinguishing features?

"I...don't know..."  She said these were depictions of three adepti, right? Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper...Could it have been a depiction of Cloud Retainer? But why would it be scratched out if that were the case?  Maybe it's one of the yakshas?  W-wait a second--

"Do you want to keep it?" Aether pulled your head out of the clouds and you lost your train of thought.  

"No, that's okay."  You placed the box on the counter, mind wondering once again as LinLang explained her offer to Aether.  Hopefully you'd get the chance to look at the artifact set again.  Maybe you could ask Xiao about it when he returns--wait.  Your eyes locked onto the damaged box again.

Was it possible that he was the one depicted on the box?

The theory made sense...The Guardian Yaksha worked in the dark, and he wasn't really known in the mortal world.  Festivals were thrown for the adepti, but no one mentioned or prayed to him.  He could have scratched the box himself, or it could have been Rex Lapis's doing.  Your hands curled into determined fists and you walked away from the group before anyone could notice.

Xiao!  You silently called his name once you returned to the docks along the harbor.  Xiao!  I know you can hear me.  No response; the wind was absent.  Why is it that I'm running into more things relating to adepti ever since you departed?  You dunk your hand into the ocean and traced a figure-eight in the water as you thought to yourself.  We found some interesting boxes with three adepti etched into them.  It's strange; one of them is scratched out, but I feel connected to it, almost like it's connected to you.  Weird, huh?  You shook your head at yourself.  What a silly idea, to think that one of the mighty yakshas could hear you.  I'll leave you alone now. I'm sure you're getting tired of listening to me ramble every day.  Or maybe you can't hear me at all in the first place.

A hand suddenly landed on your shoulder.

"Xiao?" Your head snapped behind you in high hopes that the adeptus had returned.

"Ouch," Childe winced and grabbed his chest as if he got hurt.  "It's just lil ol' me."  He took the liberty to sit next to you.

"A-ha, you scared me there.  Sorry."

"You really like him, huh?"

"I guess so.  I don't really know what to do with myself since he left."  You watched the moon rise over the horizon.

"Do you know where he was headed? I can go find him for you."  You shook your head.  "I'm surprised he didn't take you with him.  The two of you were practically attached at the hip."

Hm?  The hair rose on the nape of your neck.  Something about his words was off.

"Childe, do you know something about why he left?"  Your eyes left the moon and locked onto your questionable teammate.

"Whatever do you mean, ojou-chan?" He was good at feigning ignorance, but you didn't fall for it this time.

"Tartaglia."

"Now why would I be interested in the adepti?  Why are you so suspicious of me all of a sudden?"  His eyes narrowed dangerously.  "If you're looking for a reason to fight me, all you have to do is ask and I'll say yes.  I'd love to fight you and go all-out.  It's been awhile and I could use the exercise."

You opened your mouth and shut it.  You couldn't throw around accusations like they were Childe's Fatui money, after all.  If your suspicions were unfounded, it would cause strain in the team.  And he was true to his word on fighting; he could take you out in a single blow if he thought it was necessary.  You thought carefully about this and decided to drop it.

[anna-justice]

But We Do - Upstead

Summary: 5 times Jay and Hailey said they were “just friends,” and 1 time they knew they were something more. 

Warnings: swearing, fluff, maybe mentions of violence?

Requested: No

…

1 - they don’t cancel other plans, have conversations with nothing but their eyes…

Jay walked out of the breakroom, phone pressed to his ear and a cup of coffee in his hand. They were wrapping up an intense day in intelligence, they had closed a big case involving a tender age victim, all of them were taking it pretty hard. 

“Hey man,” Jay said quietly as he approached his desk. He watched his partner sigh, running a hand through her tousled blonde hair. 

“Hey,” Will said, “We still on for the game tonight?” 

Jay kept his eyes on Hailey, she looked distraught. “Uh…” Hailey looked up, catching his gaze and giving him a weak smile. Jay furrowed his eyebrows at her and she shrugged, her chest heaving as she looked back down at her report. “Sorry. I can’t tonight, something came up. Raincheck?” 

“Yeah, no worries man.” Will said, “I’ll see you later.” 

“See you.” Jay agreed, finally finishing the last few steps to his desk. He sat down, placing all the reports on his desk in a neat pile. Swiftly, he leaned over the monitor in front of him and swiped a stack of papers off his partners desk, replacing them with his cup of coffee. 

Hailey was startled by the commotion, glancing up at the man across from her. He was focused on his computer screen, deep in thought. Hailey smiled softly, taking a sip of the coffee before getting back to work. Jay felt her gaze on him, he avoided it, focusing on the task before him. If he looked up he’d get lost in those bright blue eyes, and then he’d never get any work done. 

About an hour later, Jay threw his pen down on his desk, groaning. “I’ve written the word ‘offender’ so many times that it doesn’t even feel like a word anymore.” He said. 

Hailey cracked a smile, “You done?” She had been for about 20 minutes, but they were the last ones left, and she didn’t want to make him work alone, especially since he was helping with her work load. 

 Jay nodded, “Yep, just finished, ready to get out of here?” 

“Yes.” Hailey said immediately, grabbing her coat off the back of her chair. “Give Will my best.” 

Jay stood, “I’m not meeting Will.” He confessed. 

Hailey looked at him, confused. “You said you were going to the Hawks game, Jay, you’ve been excited all day.” She frowned, but he just shook his head.

“Will gets tickets for every game, there will be another one.” He jokes, but Hailey doesn’t look convinced. “I’m not really feeling it tonight, not after today…” It was true, he didn’t want to ignore his problems for the night, not when she’d call him out on it later anyway. Plus, Hailey was way more fun than a Hawks game.

She eyed him cautiously, “As long as you aren’t ditching on my account.” 

Jay laughed, “I am.” Hailey glared at him. “Not cause you need it, cause I do.” Her expression softens as Jay grabs his keys and coat, “Come on, drinks on me.” 

Hailey smiled, falling into step behind him. “You spoil me.” 

2 - they don’t call you in the middle of the night, couldn’t even tell you why…

Hailey shot up in her bed, her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. She held a hand to it, trying to control her breathing. She hated to admit it, but nightmares were a constant issue for her, it was rare that she slept a full night.

It made sense, the trauma of her childhood, in addition to the horrors she sees on the force. When her mind wasn’t actively fighting against the memories, they were all consuming. Tonight though, was a special type of terror. It was often that Hailey dreamed of her green eyed partner, but sometimes he snuck into her nightmares. Every once in a while, she was transported back to that day, the day she almost lost him. And even though he lived, in her mind at night, the fear that he didn’t was overwhelming. 

She rolled over, clutching her pillow. All rationality said he was fine, probably asleep in his own bed. Her phone caught her eye, like it was pulling her to it. It sat there taunting her. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, she just needed to hear his voice. 

Obviously, she had him on speed dial, only needing to click his contact. The ringing started and after the fourth one, she considered hanging up. Then after the fifth… “Hello?” A groggy voice asked. 

“Hi.” She said softly. She had the sudden urge to throw her phone out the window.

Jay sat up immediately, running his hand over his face, “Hailey? What’s wrong?”

Hailey froze, she hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Nothing.”

“Okay?” He said, not really convinced. 

“I just needed to make sure you were okay.” Hailey rushed out. She blushed to herself, thankful that he couldn’t see her crimson cheeks. 

That woke Jay up all the way, he sighed, his voice laced with concern. “Hailey, I’m fine.” He waited a few seconds. “Are you?” 

Hailey took a breath, she debated confessing everything she had been feeling lately. How affected she was by her dreaming that he was dead. “Uh, just a bad dream.” 

“About?” He asked. 

“That day.” She said softly. He didn’t say anything. “I’m okay, Jay.” She said,trying to reassure him.

She heard rustling over the line, “I’m sorry Hailey.” He said, “For what I put you through.” 

“I know.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, just listening to each other breathe. It was oddly comforting, the constant assurance that the other one was there. “Jay?” Hailey asked.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay on the phone...until I fall asleep?” She asked, cautiously. It was a strange ask, especially because Hailey knew that there was no way she was going back to sleep, but she wasn’t ready to hang up, and she wasn’t ready to talk.

Jay sat there shocked, there was something so intimate about her request, something he wasn’t expecting, but certainly something he wasn’t upset about. “Yeah, I’ll be right here.” 

They both laid back down in their respective beds, phones laying on the pillow next to them. Eventually Hailey heard the sound of soft snores, she smiled to herself. She closed her eyes and just listened: he was alive and he was there.

3 - they don’t almost say “i love you,” when they’re downtown somewhere just a little drunk...

Jay sat in between Kevin and Will at Molly’s knocking back his third beer. They were celebrating Adam’s birthday, which meant they were in for a night full of alcohol. Adam was a bit of a control freak when it came to his birthday, insisting that everyone was at his beck and call for the day. They all let it slide, after all, he acted like their own personal assistant on each of their birthdays. 

“Okay boys.” Adam called to the long line of their friends sitting at the bar. “Time for shots!” 

Kevin laughed, “Are you paying?” 

Adam shrugged, “The party is on me tonight, but you all are responsible for getting me home alive.” 

Kevin nodded, looking to Jay, who nodded. “Copy that.” He turned to Herrmann, “I’m going to need two of those badboys and a glass of that fancy bourbon I know you are hiding back there.”

“Make that two,” Jay said, holding up his hand. 

Hailey, Kim and a few of the other girls watched the antics from across the bar. Stella came over, carrying a tray of miscellaneous cocktails and bottles. Kim’s jaw dropped and Hailey started laughing. Stella shrugged, setting the tray down. “I heard Ruzek’s buying.” She said, before floating back over to the bar.

“Thank you!” Hailey called.

Sylvie picked up a cup filled with green liquid, “Why is it green?” 

“Absinthe?” Kim asked.

Hailey quickly took the drink from Sylvie, “Believe me, you don’t want this.” 

Sylvie laughed, picking a different drink. “Yeah, probably not.” 

Hailey smiled, taking her pick of the tray. She played it safe, pulling a beer off the back. “Lame.” Gianna teased.

Hailey shrugged, “Someone has to get those losers home.” She glanced at the bar, watching her partner down a shot with Adam.   

Kim raised her glass, urging the other girls to do the same. “Happy Birthday Adam.” She said, and they all took a sip. 

About thirty minutes later, Jay was more gone than he had been in a long time. The man could hold his liquor, but he could not keep up with Kevin or Kelly. He was handed another shot by his brother, who was right there with him. Jay tossed it back, barely feeling the burn. 

He slumped over on his stool and turned to scan the bar, his gaze landed on his partner and it stayed there shamelessly. She was laughing, her head thrown back and her body visibly shaking. He smiled, leaning back against the bar and just watched.

Kevin glanced over, following his friend's gaze. He chuckled. “Jay, man.” He said, nudging his shoulder. “You’re staring.

“No I’m not.” Jay said, his gaze never leaving her. 

“Sure.” Kevin slurred, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around to face the bar. Jay glared at him, Kevin held up his hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to help you out.” 

“Chuckles is staring at you.” Trudy teased Hailey from across the table. Hailey, not so subtly, snapped her head around, causing the whole table to laugh. “Well, he’s not now.” 

Hailey slowly faced her friends again, her cheeks bright red. “Yeah, just checking.”

Sylvie giggled, she had taken a small sip of the absinth anyway. “You like him.” 

Hailey shook her head, “What? No.” She stared down her drink, “We’re partners. He’s my best friend.” 

“Okay.” Kim said, smirking, everyone else following suit. 

Before he knew it, Jay’s gaze was back on Hailey. She was so pretty, he didn’t even understand how someone could be so beautiful. He picked up the full shot glass, downing it quickly. He had spent the whole night thinking about her, and he couldn’t pretend he didn’t feel the way he did anymore. 

Jay pushed himself off the stool, stumbling a little, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he made way across the bar. “Hi Hailes.” He said, grabbing her attention.

Hailey smiled brightly. “Hey, having fun?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. She could tell he had been just by the way he was swaying in front of her. 

Jay nodded, “Yeah...um...I need to tell you something.”

The whole table watched him eagerly, “Yeah?” She asked, her heart racing.

Will looked over and his eyes widened at the empty seat next to him. “Kev.” He said.

Kevin looked over, “Shit.” He said. He motioned for Will to follow him and they raced over to Jay.

“I-” He started, but Kevin and Will appeared on either side of him. 

“Hi Hailey.” Kevin said.

“Bye Hailey,” Will continued, before grabbing his brother's arm and yanking him away from her. Hailey sat there in shock as they walked away, talk about a let down.

Jay huffed, ripping his arms away. “What was that?” He snapped.

“It was us saving your ass.”

4 - they don’t talk about the future, and put each other in it…

Hailey shifted in her seat, turning her body slightly towards the center console. She held up the camera in her hand, looking through the lens. She snapped a picture of the license plate of the car that just rolled up. 

“You see that?” Jay asked from the driver's seat, leaning back. Hailey nodded, taking another picture. Jay scribbled down the make and model into his notes before they watched the driver re-enter the car and drive away. 

A few minutes went by and they sat in silence once again, they had been on a stakeout for several hours and all they had to show for it was a few license plates. Hailey sighed, “So, the Sergeants exam sign up was posted this week.” She said, bringing up something she’d been meaning to for several weeks. 

“Okay?” Jay said, “You planning on taking it?” He asked, chuckling. 

Hailey shook her head, laughing lightly. “Me? No way. I think you should.” 

“What?” Jay, finally looked over at her. 

Hailey looked at him in disbelief, he really hadn’t thought about it? “Jay, you’ve been a detective for almost ten years, don’t you feel like it’s time to take the next step?” She asked.

Jay shrugged, “I hadn’t really thought about it...maybe in a couple more years. Why? You sick of me?” He teased.

“No,” Hailey said, rolling her eyes. “I just want you to succeed, and Voight has always said you’ll take the unit one day…”

“Yeah, one day.” He said, cracking a smile. To be honest, he had thought about the test, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to potentially move on from Intelligence or from his partner. 

Hailey turned to face him completely, “Well, when one day comes, I’ll help you study.” 

Jay watched her, her smile so genuine. He had just said that he was going to wait a couple more years, and Hailey intended to be there for them. “So, you’re keeping me around?” 

“Yeah, you haven’t pissed me off yet.” Jay gave her a look, “Much.” Hailey took a breath. “I’m serious Jay, I’ve got your back, no matter what, no matter when.”

“Thanks.” Jay said, squinting at her. 

Hailey scoffed, “You sound surprised…” 

Jay shook his head, “I’m not surprised, it’s just nice to hear you say it.” He turned to face her, “We don’t talk like this very much.” 

“Yeah, cause you show emotion once every three weeks.” Hailey teased, slapping his bicep.

“Oh, you’re one to talk.” 

Hailey laughed along with him, leaning her head against the window. “Jay, you know I’d follow you anywhere, even to another unit. I’m not losing this.” She gestured between the two of them.

Jay nodded, he knew she was talking about their partnership, but couldn’t help but hope she meant something else. “I know, and you’ll always have a spot, wherever I am.” 

“Good.” 

5 - they don’t stand around playing with their keys, finding reasons not to leave…

“Jay, can you stop hovering.” Hailey said, turning to face him. He had been following her around her kitchen for fifteen minutes while she did random things.  He had brought her home from the hospital a few hours earlier, and he hadn’t left her alone since. 

She was tackled down by a suspect earlier that morning and after getting checked out by Will, they learned that she had a few bruised ribs. It was nothing too serious, but it was enough for Jay to have a mini aneurysm about it, which is why Hailey was coming close to stabbing him with the knife she was trying to put away. 

Jay took a step back at her harsh words, putting his hands up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Hailey stood up straight, placing her hands on her hips. “I think I’m capable of unloading my dishwasher.” 

“Alright,” He said, admitting defeat. He grabbed his keys off the counter and headed towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you, thanks for dinner.” She said kindly, before turning back to her work. 

Jay opened the door, watching her for a few more seconds. He was about to leave when heard a thud, followed by a hiss. Within seconds, the door was slammed shut and he was back by her side. “Hailey.” He said, picking up the bowls that fell on the floor.

She huffed, leaning against the counter, hand draped over her stomach to cover her rib. “I’m fine, I just couldn’t reach.” She explained, nodding at the open cabinet. 

Jay sighed, “You’re not fine.” He set the stack of bowls neatly in the cabinet before turning to face her. “Come on.” 

Hailey rolled her eyes and followed him into the living room, sitting down on the couch next to him. He threw a blanket over her before getting up again. “What are you doing?” Hailey called after him.

There were sounds of rummaging in the kitchen, and then a few seconds later Jay appeared with a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. “Here.” He said, “You should take these.” 

He handed her the cup and Hailey took it gratefully. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah,” He took a step back, standing next to the couch. He shifted nervously, keeping his eyes on her. “Well, I guess I’m gonna go. Promise me you’ll stay put?” He asked, and Hailey nodded. “Okay, Goodnight Hailey.” He said, before walking out of the room.

Hailey sighed, as much as she hated being fawned over, she didn’t want him to leave. “Jay!” She yelled.

Two seconds later he was standing in front of her again, “Yeah?” 

“I’m probably going to need your later…” She said, watching a smile appear on his face. “Do you just want to stay?” 

“Yes.” He said immediately, “I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you really need me to.” 

Hailey laughed, “I do.” Jay took it as an invitation to reclaim his seat on the couch, pulling the other half of the blanket over him. Hailey leaned her head on his shoulder and stayed put, exactly like she promised she would.

but we do…

Hailey sat with her head resting in her hand as she watched Jay from across the room. She was staring, and it was obvious, but he was too busy chatting up some girl to notice her gaze. Molly’s was crowded, like normal, but tonight she had decided to sit alone. She had been watching the girl flirt with her partner for a while now, and she didn’t want to bring anyone else down with her mood. 

She thought things had changed, that maybe Jay felt the same way about her, but the look on his face right now was telling her otherwise. Hailey sighed, averting her gaze and staring absently at her phone, trying to distract herself. It wasn’t working. 

“You know,” A familiar redhead said as they slid into the seat across from her, “You could just tell him how you feel.”

Hailey sat up straight, looking at the other Halstead in disbelief. “What?” 

Will laughed, “Don’t even deny it Hailey, I’ve been watching you make eyes at my brother for the last hour.” 

“I’m not making eyes.” She snapped, keeping her gaze trained on him. 

“Okay.” Will said, taking a sip of his beer. “Just for the record, I think you would be satisfied with his answer.”

Hailey jumped off her stool, throwing a ten down on the table. She was glad she had decided to only have one beer, she was sober enough to get the hell out of there. “Goodnight Will.” She said shortly before rushing towards the door, not giving her partner a second glance as she passed. 

Jay watched the blur of blonde hair fly past him, noticing that it was Hailey walking out the door. His eyebrows laced together and he stood, “It was really great to see you Marissa, but I need to go.” He said quickly before grabbing his jacket and racing out the door after his partner, he was gone so fast that he didn’t even hear the girl say goodbye.

“Hailey!” He called after her.

Hailey turned around, she was only a feet ahead of him, she blamed her short legs. “I’m fine Jay, go back to your date.” She said a little harsher than she meant to before turning to walk away again. 

“Date?” He asked, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to him. “Hailey, that was Will’s ex-girlfriend, I was friends with her brother in high school, we were just catching up.” 

Hailey scoffed, “That little shit, ugh, it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to explain yourself to me Jay, we’re just friends.” 

Jay ran his hands through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Are we?” He snapped. That got Hailey’s attention, she watched him closely as he took a step forward. “Hailey, I’ve to convince myself that there was nothing here, because you are my best friend. But friends don’t act the way we do, I saw you watching me tonight, that wasn’t a ‘friendly’ look.” He said. 

Hailey blushed, looking at the ground. “Jay-”

He tilted her chin up to look at him. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I can’t. I love you Hailey...and I think you love me too.” Hailey swore she stopped breathing for a second, his eyes were locked on her and she couldn't believe what he was saying. She searched his face for any trace of regret or concern for her, because half of her still thought she was hallucinating. “Feel free to say something-” She reached up and pulled him down to her, attaching their lips. Jay arms secured themselves around Hailey’s waist as he lifted her up to meet his height, her arms wrapping around his neck.

Jay held her tightly against him, his lips never leaving hers. Finally, Hailey pulled away, breathless. “For the record,” She said, taking a deep breath, her hand running down the side of his face. “You’re my best friend too.” Jay smiled, but she knew he was waiting for something else. “And I love you too.” 

…

A/N: I’ve had the idea for this fic for forever, so I’m glad I finally had a reason to write it. I’ve been a Maddie & Tae (ft. lyrics from “Friend’s Don’t) fan since the beginning and I’ve always thought that this song was the Upstead anthem. It’s perfect for them. Thanks for reading!

[withkun]

volcanic | wong lucas

word count: 4.5k

pairing: female graduate student! reader x fratboy! lucas

genre: enemies to lovers au

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol

a/n: yesterday i had a dream about going on a date with lucas so you can thank @god for inspiring this mess. also the last person i slept with was a trump supporter and kinda inspired the relationship... i have regrets. 

You hated admitting it to yourself, but you were instantly drawn to Lucas when he first entered the ballroom. Along with his trademark dashing smile, he disregarded the dress code and opted for a formal, black-tie suit. If you hadn’t known better, you would have guessed he was a famous actor or a prince out of a fairy tale. Of course, his entrance garnered everyone’s attention as well. Whispers and quiet giggles began to flood the room.

Flustered, you tore yourself away from him and reached for a small flask buried at the bottom of your purse. Emergency vodka could go a long way on nights like these.

“A bit early, don’t you think?” a smug voice arose.

You gritted your teeth and brought the flask to your lips, then ignored the burning sensation slipping down your throat. “Not at all,” you murmured, your voice almost a growl.

Without prompt, Lucas pulled the flask from your hands and helped himself to a sip. “Svedka,” he complained. “Definitely too early for that.”

You watched him down the remainder of the liquor, your anger beginning to boil. “Don’t you have to prepare yourself for the pageant?”

He eyed you, seemingly finding amusement in your fury. “I am,” Lucas assured you. “I’m actually campaigning right now.”

“I’m not voting for you,” you told him, a self-satisfied grin replacing your scowl.

Unphased, Lucas offered you a wink. “We’ll see,” he said in a sing-song voice, then left you to your devices and an empty flask.

Before you could chase after him and demand replacement vodka, your student organization beckoned you to their table. Begrudgingly, you slumped over and plopped into your chair. Your table consisted of the other members of the executive board, being Taeyong, Johnny, Taeil, Yuta, Jaehyun, and Doyoung. “I will pay everyone at this table fifty dollars to not vote for Lucas,” you muttered, half-serious with a glance to Taeyong. “Back me up Mr. Club President.”

Taeyong widened his eyes, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “We’re just here as a courtesy,” he laughed awkwardly. “Try not to stir any trouble.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, with the knowledge that he was right. The APIDA Graduate Student Organization rarely involved itself in any undergraduate matters, but sometimes aligned with their APIDA counterparts for events like this especially seeing as most of their members once were a part of those groups. Arguably, the Mr. Asia pageant was the most important conglomerate event of the year. Each Asian, Pacific Islander, and Desi undergrad student org sent one representative each year to compete for the title of Mr. Asia. The representatives would prepare a talent portion, then partake in a question and answer session. Other attendees would dress to the nines, often seeing the event as an opportunity to flex. Most, however, did not flex to Lucas’ extent. They were also served a meal to be shared with other club members. After, attendees would cast their votes and crown that year’s Mr. Asia.

“No,” you deadpanned, already rummaging through Johnny’s backpack. “Unless maybe you keep me drunk this entire evening. Then I might consider.”

Of course, you knew it was only a matter of time until Lucas ran with his fraternity, Pi Delta Psi, or PDPsi for short. You were hoping you’d graduate before that happened. And yet, in your sixth year at the university you found yourself subjected to the terrors of frat boy Lucas gloating more than usual.

Johnny offered you his coke upon seeing your distress, and you were not surprised to taste an exuberant amount of rum. You wrinkled your face, but still refused to return the mixed drink. Johnny and Jaehyun shared a laugh as you downed the drink. “If I make you another drink will you forgive us for voting for Lucas,” Johnny inquired, his bottom lip pouted.

Meanwhile, Taeil passed his water bottle to you. An inauspicious clear liquid to the untrained eye, but you knew better. You looked positively giddy pouring yourself a glass of lemonade followed with a solid two shots worth of Taeil’s vodka. “You rich boy,” you accused jokingly. “Out here with Tito’s.” With a grateful smile, you offered, “But you are officially my favorite and hereby ‘best boy.’”

Yuta snatched the bottle and poured some in his water before Jaehyun could get his grimy hands on it. “Petition to all vote for Mark Lee,” he said, prompting the club for a cheers.

Your fellow members clinked glasses just as the lights began to dim. With a relaxed sigh, you whispered, “Hear, hear!” At least the booze hit before you had to see Lucas parade around on stage.

The event went as it did each year, Lucas taunting you with knowing smirks occurring as it always did. This time, you had to endure it with him from the spotlight. You made it a game to send him goofy, tipsy expressions that were often accompanied by finger guns and hearts in hopes of throwing him off.  Lucas, unbothered, continued with his act. His confidence only seemed to grow.

However, you had not anticipated Lucas’ performance in the talent show. The performance began slowly as Lucas executed a graceful traditional Chinese dance. The music suddenly changed tempo, and your jaw practically dropped to the table when he ripped off his shirt. You knew he was ripped, but you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his sculpted body. Your increasingly drunk mind went forbidden places before you snapped out of it.

Your friends noticed your cheeks burning red and stifled laughter as Lucas closed his performance. You felt his eyes on your back, your head buried in your hands.

“Oooooh,” Jaehyun teased, “He’s looking at you.”

Although a few seats away, you managed to land a solid knee kick that elicited a sharp yelp from the boy. “He’s not,” you said defensively.

Even Taeyong let out a quiet laugh. “You’ve been flirting for years…”

“You think that excessively hating each other is flirting?” you inquired incredulously.

The boys exchanged looks and knowing smiles, a familiar ritual that occurred each time you and Lucas interacted.

Frustrated, you rose from your seat and made even strides to the restroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, cheeks still ablaze from embarrassment. To your gratitude, you still looked fairly sober otherwise.

You almost jumped when you heard a couple knocks on the restroom door. “Occupied,” you called out.

The handle twisted to reveal a sweaty Lucas, peeking curiously through the crack. “Is it just you?”

“Yes,” your answered with a bitter tone. “What can I help you with in this esteemed ladies’ restroom?”

“Hold out your hands,” he ordered.

You obliged but raised your eyebrows in confusion. Lucas carefully placed a Pepcid capsule in hand, a bottle of water in the other. “What?”

Lucas shrugged. “I get Asian glow really bad too,” he replied, “unless if there’s another reason your cheeks are read.

Overzealous, you swallowed the pill and downed the entire bottle of water. “We both know it’s Asian glow,” you said defensively.

“You’re welcome!” Lucas said, already half out the door.

And once more, he left you stunned and silent.

In your purse, your phone began to buzz with frantic messages from the boys. Jaehyun made fun of you for already breaking the seal, while Taeyong demanded that you respond before he calls an ambulance for alcohol poisoning. A third unknown number accompanied the texts with an invite to the PDPsi after party that night.

You returned to your table to find that the pageant had already moved into the question and answer portion. Mark Lee excitedly described his plans to bring more of the university clubs together for common causes. That meant Lucas was on deck.

Thankfully, the Pepcid worked some of its magic and brought your cheeks back to a normal color.  You almost felt sober again. Still, Lucas’ actions muddled your mind.

With a polite bow, Lucas concluded his session and prompted the closing of the pageant.

Lucas took the stage and elicited quite a few cheers. His frat brothers startled the room as they let out a deep chant in support. Graciously, Lucas approached the microphone and once more glanced in your direction. Without expression, you offered him a thumbs up which he appeared to appreciate.

He surprised you once more with his articulate and thought out answers before you remembered his background. His father, an industrious and well-known businessman in Eastern Asia, likely prepared him for moments like this. Lucas may have been an untouchable playboy, but he was also poised to become a part of his father’s company. Still, you felt a certain genuity to his words despite that.

You turned your attention to your cell phone and took in the options. As your thumb hovered over Mark Lee’s name, you could not stop your eyes from wandering to Lucas’. Biting your lip, you hesitantly selected Lucas.

Within a few moments, the results were in and the MCs called the contestants to the stage. You refused to look at Lucas, instead focusing intently on your restless hands.

You expected to hear Lucas’ name, but instead heard Mark Lee announced as 2020’s Mr. Asia.

Following the applause, the MCs bid everyone a good night. Johnny addressed the table, “We’re all going to PDPsi’s after party, right?”

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Lucas clowning around with his frat brothers, then turned back to your friends. “Do we have to?”

“Absolutely,” Doyoung responded, eliciting flabbergasted responses from the table.

They all stared at you expectantly, knowing that you were cornered. If Doyoung wanted to party, an event none of them would have ever predicted, then you would have to see that through. “Fuck y’all,” you grunted.

A couple hours later, you arrived as a group at the notorious PDPsi frat house with a few handles. You hadn’t changed your outfit, but the boys ensured that you at least let your hair down from your high ponytail and touch up your makeup. They convinced themselves that the night was finally upon them, the night where you and Lucas would finally hook up. Despite their protests, you looked essentially the same. You wore mostly light makeup, but maybe got overzealous applying highlighter. You adorned the same black neck top tucked into a short argyle skirt, but with different shoes. The boys made you wear your “slut shoes,” which were basically just a pair of thigh-high suede black boots. In your hasty attempt to get ready, you barely had time to drink.

The party already was in full swing, and you could easily hear the music from a couple houses down. Beer cans and empty white claws littered the front lawn. A few people played beer pong on the front deck, but they had only filled the cups with water. The boys paired off amongst themselves in preparation for the drinking game, leaving you without a partner. Just as you began to complain, Lucas appeared at your side. “Hey, Y/N, I’m claiming you as my beer pong partner. Oh, and we’re next.”

Lucas practically dragged you away. “I’m terrible at beer pong,” you attempted to dissuade him.

Indifferent, Lucas made the first shot and gave your team the advantage of going first. “Here, I’m better at going second.” He pushed the ping pong ball in your hand.

You considered your options for a second. “You’re lucky I hate losing more than I hate you.” With that sentiment, you watched your ball splash into the back-right cup.

He grinned. “I knew it.”

Despite being a frat boy, AKA master of all party games, Lucas did not have a consistent shot. Still, you fended off the opposing team until you were down to the last cup. Two consecutive shots in and they would win. “Let’s make this interesting,” you offered. “If you miss your shot, you have to do whatever I want.”

With a knowing a smile, Lucas agreed. “If I make it, then you have to do whatever I want.”

You nodded, your confidence swelling, then gleefully watched your ball land perfectly centered in the last cup. And to your horror, you watched Lucas do the same thing.

“Oh, humble winner,” you decreed sarcastically, “what it is that you seek?”

To no one’s surprise, Lucas replied, “I want you to kiss me.”

You saw it coming, but that didn’t mean you were any less disgruntled. In a classic, you-like fashion, you launched into a rant. “Seriously, Lucas?? You’re a robot set to fuck boy mode and I will not be a part of it- “

He took your arm and pulled you away from the deck, into an alleyway. “You lost the bet,” Lucas reminded you. “And all you have to do is uphold your part of the deal.” He gestured around the empty space. “No one will even see it.”

You caught your breath, still enraged. “I was just going to make you find a new beer pong partner if I won. And maybe take a shot.”

“I wish you’d stop denying that there’s something between us.”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t bring your eyes to his and left them trained on the pavement. You never denied that you felt attracted to him. Yet, you also despised him for how perfect everyone perceived him to be. You saw another frat boy when you looked at him, nothing special. “What is there between us,” you asked cautiously.

“You try a little too hard to hate me, don’t you think?” Lucas pulled your chin up to meet his gaze.

Damn it. Sometimes he was too good. With him watching you so closely, you knew you couldn’t lie. “And what game are you playing now?”

“I’m not playing any games,” Lucas answered with sincerity.

Your mind whirling, you pressed your lips against his only for a second. Just a quick peck, nothing more. “And there you have it, humble winner. I’ll be inside drinking myself into an oblivion.”

Lucas grabbed your wrist before you could run off and pulled you closer for another kiss. This one, longer and deeper than before. You couldn’t help but melt into it and wrap your arms around his neck. Soon his tongue danced softly with yours, and you knew you were in for it. He had you.

You pulled away, attempting to catch your breath and gather your thoughts, but Lucas attached his lips to your neck and made his way to your ear. He planted soft kisses along its shape, then lightly bit your ear lobe. His heavy breaths in your ear made a knot in your stomach tighten. “I can’t believe I voted for you,” you admitted, your inhibitions disappearing.

You felt him smile as he kissed your lips once again. “I voted for Mark,” he murmured.

For the first time, he had you laughing genuinely. “In what kind of world do I vote for you and you vote for Mark Lee?” With that, you pressed your body closer to his, close enough to feel a growing bulge grind against your core. Teasing, you drew your hips back and forth.

Lucas soon grew impatient, and growled in your ear, “You’re driving me crazy. We’re going to my bedroom.”

“Not until I say so.” You attached your lips to his again, continuing to rock your hips.

His breath hitched in his throat, and you knew you had the power. Seeming to catch himself, he grabbed your wrists and held them against the brick wall behind you. “I want you,” he said airily, “all of you.”

“Fine,” you agreed, accepting the stalemate. “But no one sees us.”

You snuck around to the back yard first, praying that no one would question her messy hair and how red her lips must have been. Thankfully, you only saw Doyoung who acknowledged your presence with a knowing nod. At least you knew he wouldn’t snitch... most likely.

You skimmed you hand across his book shelf, retrieving his copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle. The pages were marred with messy annotations in Chinese and English, so many you could not understand.

Lucas directed you to the far left bedroom on the frat house’s second floor. You stepped over beer cans and finally made your way there. Inside, you were almost surprised with how tidy everything was. He was a fuck boy, but damned if he didn’t keep his room up to A

sian parent standards.

Behind you, you heard the door open and lock click. Lucas pushed you against the bookcase, causing you to drop the book. “I was reading,” you managed as his hands wandered up and down your body and stopping to cup your breasts.”Didn’t take you for a Vonnegut guy.”

He lifted you, bridal style and tossed you onto the bed with ease. “I’m not just a fuck boy,” Lucas said, climbing over you. “I also read books for class.”

“You’re depth is astounding,” you mocked playfully. “I didn’t know you actually do your assignments.”

In response, he lifted his henley shirt over his head and once more revealed his toned torso and upper body. “I’ve changed a lot since I was a freshman, I thought you paid more attention.”

Your eyes glinted mischievously. “Like when you banged half of the AKDPhi sorority girls two years ago.”

“Okay, that was exaggerated,” Lucas grinned, hooking his fingers the hem of your skirt. “I haven’t slept with anyone in a year.”

You pulled your shirt off, prompting Lucas to dispose of your skirt as well. You were left in just your nude bra and panties, and Lucas breathless. “I find that hard to believe,” you scoffed, your tone a bit softer. “Are you going to tell me you’re secretly a virgin as well?”

“I mean,” Lucas scratched his head, “I used to get around.”

You took his moment of weakness in stride, moving so that you were on top of him. You registered the surprise on his face and let out a laugh. “Do you forget that I’m older than you, maybe even more experienced?”

As you undid Lucas’ belt, your eyes met. Both full of hunger and desire. A part of you felt as if you were making a bad decision, becoming another name for him to add to his list. Even so, you didn’t care. You hadn’t felt so alive since you dated your first boyfriend. Everything felt like a rush then, every kiss and every glance. Losing your virginity hadn’t even felt as good as these playful moments together.

With Lucas’ help, you removed his jeans. Both you were similarly half naked, only undergarments shielding the rest of your bodies. In that moment, you finally saw your similarities. Thirsty for control over the way you were perceived, a love for power, and longing for each other. “What do you see in me?” you inquired.

“Someone who could easily kick my ass,” he replied, his tone light but entirely serious. “I can’t believe I managed to get you in my bed.”

You scoffed. “I chose to be here, and I’m the one who made you want it.”

Lucas conceded, leaning up to kiss you, “That’s true. I’ve never dated someone that gives me such a hard time.”

“We’re not dating,” you prompted. “I only hate you slightly less now.”

“You’re the most interesting person I ever met,” Lucas said woefully. “And what do you see in me?”

“A clown,” you answered without hesitation. “Boo-boo the fool, if you will.”

You didn’t stop his hands as the reached for your bra clasp and let it fall off your chest.

“But you’re also sweeter and more genuine than I thought you could be,” you granted. “Thank you for the Pepcid, by the way.”

And with that, you pulled down his boxer briefs. His already hard length popped out, You maintained eye contact as you ran your tongue along the shaft, closing your mouth at the tip. Once again, you continued this motion and began to suckle his testicles and flicker your tongue as your hand firmly stroked his dick. He lost himself, groaning and muttering, “Fuck,” under his breath.

You loved seeing him like this, completely bent to your will. Returning your attention to the tip, you ran your thumb gently across the slit before replacing it with your mouth. You bobbed your head along the length and urged yourself to take more and more. Lucas encouraged you, his fingers tangling in your hair and guiding your motions. With almost its entirety reaching the back of your throat, you gagged.

Honestly, you could’ve went on like this for hours, but Lucas roughly flipped you over and dragged his index finger over your panties. You shuddered as it ran over your clit, then down to the wet spot you left. “My turn.”

In a swift motion, Lucas slid the panties down your legs and threw them aside. Lucas stared at you for a moment, taking in the sight of your naked, waiting body. He wasted no time in pushing your legs back, fully exposing you, and planted butterfly kisses along your thighs. His flat tongue lapped from your entrance and up to your clit, then down again. The anticipation almost made you lose your mind. He closed his lips on your clit, tongue to circling the sensitive bud. You never realized how big his hands were until he slid a finger inside of you. The overwhelming sensation had you gasping, begging for more. And then he slid another finger alongside it, pumping rhythmically as his tongue continued to work on your clit.

You had slept with a few partners before, but none left you as unhinged as Lucas. The pleasure built, somehow rendering you more helpless to his whim, and its release almost had you screaming.

In your shock, you sat up and looked at Lucas with bewilderment. “No one has ever made me come before.” To your embarrassment, it was true. You either grew tired and faked it or they never even made an attempt.

With a devilish look in his eyes, he sucked the two fingers that had previously been inside you. “Maybe you should have given in sooner.”

“Oh, just shut the fuck up and fuck me already.”

He went to open his cabinet drawer beside his bed and searched for a condom. “Protection first.”

You laid back on the bed, still catching your breath. “I’m on the pill,” you confided. “As long as you don’t have the clap, we’ll be fine.”

“Good thing I only have chlamydia.” Lucas kissed you, the taste of your orgasm still on his lips, and positioned himself at your entrance.

His forehead rested on yours, eyes cast down to where your bodies met. Slowly, he thrusted inside you, eliciting your moans. He moved his hips delicately, making you feel every inch bury itself deeper. Instead of immediately jackhammering it in, Lucas took his sweet time and chose his own pace. He brought his lips to your nipple, suckling on it softly. You couldn’t believe his patience.

“I’m going on top,” you managed, pushing Lucas down where you had laid. Although already turned on, you wanted to see Lucas squirm the way he had you. You brought your folds over his cock, driving him just as mad as you predicted. When you finally allowed him back in, he attempted to thrust upward. You shut him down, resting your hands on his pecs. “And now I’m in control,” you gloated. You ground your hips and then slowly brought yourself up and down. “So I’m going to do what I want,” you whispered into his ear.

He looked up to you, an animal-like glare present in his eyes. “Don’t forget who made you come.”

You sped your pace, willfully doing all the work. This time, you wanted Lucas to know he couldn’t do anything but allow himself to be used. And he watched you losing yourself on top of him, never having been more turned on in his life.

As you slowed, he brought your chin down for a chaste kiss. A trick, you realized, but too late, he thrusted into you this time much faster. You felt the hints of another orgasm budding, and involuntarily tightened your walls. Lucas felt the shift, drawing himself out. “You’re not going to come until I want you too.”

Before you could protest, Lucas aligned his head below your womanhood and pulled you in closer. His hands attached to your hips, encouraging you to rock yourself on his tongue. “You’re really something,” you murmured, obliging to his whims.

He murmured against you, sending vibrations up your spine. Soon enough, he had you writhing in your orgasm all over again.

Still unfinished himself, he positioned you on your hands and knees. Lucas pushed himself inside you, then slapped your ass. “God, your body...”

You couldn’t support yourself as he vigorously fucked you, but allowed your hand to float to your clit. As Lucas increase his pace, you felt your breath hitch. His thrusts became sloppier, and you realized he was close as well. Unable to hold out longer, you came again. Lucas followed shortly after, coming onto your back as you laid there, nearly exhausted. He produced a towel and wiped the excess off.

Lucas fell next to you, out of breath, and nearly exhausted. “Wow,” he muttered.

You rose from the bed, still shaking and legs a bit sore. “I’ll be in the shower. You’re welcome to join me as long as there’s no hanky panky.”

“No promises,” Lucas smiled, slowly gathering himself. “I’ll meet you there in a moment.”

You, still naked, walked to Lucas’ bathroom with a sway in your step. Just to mess with him. He gave you a moment for yourself while you turned on the shower and stepped in. You felt as if you were in a different reality, being in Lucas’ bathroom and just having had sex with Lucas Wong. You wondered if the rest of your student organization would be surprised, but suspected that they wouldn’t. Maybe Doyoung would’ve have filled them in when you didn’t return to your shared apartment with Yuta.

Lucas came in soon after, still eyeing your body the way he was before. “You can stay the night if you want, maybe get breakfast tomorrow.”

You kneaded some shampoo into his hair, and repressed a smile. It was like he read your mind. “I suppose so,” you attempted to be casual.

“And back to the dating thing,” Lucas began, “maybe we should try it.”

“Is that code for you want to have sex with me again?”

“I won’t deny that’s part of it,” Lucas admitted.

You turned from him to face the faucet, and felt him behind you once again. This time, you felt comforted by his embrace. “We’ll see how breakfast goes,” you offered.

He laughed, a low sweet sound prompting you to smile. You let yourself go in the moment, enjoying the feeling the water cascade down your skin and Lucas’ presence warming your body. “You’re never going to stop giving me a hard time, are you?”

You shook your head.

OLucas turned you to face him, descending his lips onto yours. “I wouldn’t want you to stop.”

[crimsonbluemoon]

Working For Love: A Terrormoo Story 4/17

Okay so I totally planned to have this out earlier but my day’s been kinda crazy. But it’s technically still Saturday so enjoy! 

Previous Part

Start from the beginning

Brian loved Wednesdays. 

For most of his life, Wednesdays were the bane of his existence. What person in their right mind actually looked forward to the middle of the week? It was the furthest extension from the weekend, almost no holidays were celebrated yearly on Wednesday, and the back end of it was just as long as the head. But that was before he got to talk to Brock. Finally, he learned his name. Brian’s first interaction hadn’t been the best, and the second only made it worse, but the third? The third was all the reason he needed to stark talking to him more. 

Three Wednesdays in a row, Brian had clocked into his shift before Brock came to the gym. Other days they crossed paths, but Brian’s trainings or classes managed to get in the way of getting to talk to Brock for more than a casual greeting or goodbye. Evan, Scotty and Anthony (Tyler’s other full timers) would wiggle Brock’s card over their heads and make kissy faces at Brian when Brock wasn’t looking to taunt him. The urge to flip off the menacing trio while working on Mrs. Lavigne’s squat form was hard to ignore, so he settled for punching them after work over beers and buffalo wings. The full timers got the weekends off at the gym, meaning Brian didn’t get to see Brock unless their work-out times somehow managed to sync up. So they passed each other for parts of Brian’s shift or Brock’s routine, but Wednesday was the only day Brian got to have an actual conversation with him when scanning him in. It wasn’t always the longest talk, and if anyone approached the front desk, Brock would hurry out an excuse and leave. It could be ten minutes or two, depending on Brian’s luck. 

Still, Brian cherished the few minutes he got. 

Hearing his voice had been an unexpected bonus he didn’t know he needed. The soft but steady tone fit was pretty. His laugh was pretty. The pink that bloomed over his face when Brian laid out the honest truth of how he felt when seeing Brock work out was pretty. His modesty, his dad jokes, the nervous way he rubbed his ear when Brian would smile at him- just in general, Brock was pretty. Being up closer helped him pick out little quirks of the other man that he hadn’t been able to see from a distance, like how animated his eyebrows were when he spoke or how perfect his teeth lined up when he showed them in a rare full smile. Brian made sure to toss a thumbs-up Brock’s way whenever he passed by his treadmill to clean a machine or restock paper towels (Evan and Nogla both seemed to enjoy his sudden boost of ‘hard-work’ effort when Brock was in the building, the lazy bums), and it made him smile when he’d get a stunted but responsive wave back. It was slow progress to some, but for Brian, it was more than worth it.

And when Brock walked in with a new person, Brian was tickled pink in curiosity. 

“God, this place smells like sweat and regret.” The new voice that entered the lobby of the gym made Brian laugh, tossing the crossword to the side in order to take in the new man. The platinum blond flopped on the top of his head was not natural, but it screamed personality with the hot pink elastic bundling it up. He didn’t seem ashamed of his look when placing his hands on his hips, the electric blue water bottle swinging with his movements. “It’s way better than WOW.”

“You never went to WOW.” Brock’s voice lacked any hesitation or shyness when he rolled his eyes, a shoulder nudging into his friend. “You literally paid for a membership that went unused for seven months.” 

“Have you ever tried to cancel a gym membership? It’s not possible. They demand your firstborn.” 

“You’re gay.”

“I could adopt.” The banter was refreshing to watch, and Brian grinned from ear to ear at the impolite snort Brock gave in response. 

“You’d kill a cactus. You have killed a cactus. You can’t keep a tune alive.” The new side of his personality was surprising, as Brian had only ever encountered the meek but endearing Brock. Here he was laughing and poking fun at his friend’s dismayed shout of protest, though the teasing smile he wore was quick to slide off when he realized Brian was watching the entertaining scene. “Oh! Um...hi.”  

“Hey there,” Brian answered, trying to sound smooth when tilting his grin into a smirk. The movement had the desired effect, Brock’s face rushing to resemble an apple. 

“Hi.” Brock mumbled again, and Brian had to bite back his laughter.

“You already said that, but I’ll take a second hello if it’s from you.” It wasn’t the most subtle flirting, but he was never known for being quiet with his attraction. Feeling cheerful at making Brock’s smile perk up at the small compliment, he tilted his head towards Brock’s left, but kept his gaze on him. “You bring a friend to convert to the healthy side, Brocky?”

“Not just a friend.” The correction made Brian’s body twitch, eyes darting over to the cocky look now being worn by Brock’s… something. Brian didn’t like the weird bitterness that jumped over his taste buds, but he tried not to let his lips drop down to a frown. His hand was casual when it dropped under the front desk to clench. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought about this before? He couldn’t be the only one to realize how amazing Brock was. It was so obvious that Brock had a- “I’m his best friend.” 

“Marcel’s my best friend.” Brock answered without missing a beat, though he seemed to lack the awareness to pick up on the glint of mischief that fueled his friend’s wink. Brian blinked for a moment, though it took less time to realize what had happened; this guy was trying to see how Brian would react to Brock being taken. Which meant that even though he’d never been to the gym, the friend knew of Brian. He didn’t like being played, but he’d trade the moment of embarrassment if it meant Brock talked about him outside of their gym meetings. “This is Mini, or Craig.”

“They call you Mini cause of your dick size?” It didn’t mean he couldn’t get his own shot in, though. The blunt comment made an interesting noise come from Brock, but Mini rolled with it. 

“You wanna find out yourself?” The obnoxious wink was dramatic, and Brian felt a kindred spirit in Craig. He snickered at how mortified Brock look at their exchange. 

“Craig!”

“What? Obviously he’s not straight, look at his hair.” 

“Hey, thanks for noticing.” The hat that Tyler had mandated he wore hung on his belt loop. He was hoping to keep it off long enough for Brock to see him, and the technical loophole he found in ‘wearing it on his person’ would be funny to watch Tyler steam over. He glanced to Brock, catching how the eyes ducked away from him to send a stern look at Craig. 

“I didn’t bring you here to-”

“Oh, right! My recon.” Brian wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear that, but Mini didn’t look to care when he dropped his hands flat onto the counter, peering up at Brian over his glasses. “So, as nice as calling you ‘hot gym guy’ has been for the past couple weeks, it’s really too long and has no cool acronym to use in public. You are pretty good-looking, so the name’s not wrong, but I think we should just clear the air; what’s your actual name?”

“Craig!” The pitch that Brock hit was impressive and clarifying to Brian, who took the moment to think over his previous conversations with him. Sure enough, despite Brian pouring out different nicknames and variations of Brock’s name, there had never been a rebuttal. At times he had looked flustered or nervous, but Brian had simply contributed that to his twitchy nature. Had all of that anxiety been because he didn’t know Brian’s name? Turning his attention slowly, he took in how Brock’s glare was significantly weaker with the flush of his face. It was obvious now that Mini’s question had been something Brock talked to Craig about, but didn’t have enough guts to ask himself. Mini looked like the cat that ate the canary when he shrugged at Brock’s heated stare. 

“I really do suck at the whole spy thing.”

“I cannot believe that you really just- this wasn’t what we said you’d- why are you like this?” Flustered Brock normally made Brian happy, but sympathy was in the front of his mind at seeing how distraught his new friend was.  

“I don’t mind telling you,” he offered up, hoping he didn’t send Brock running again by addressing the elephant in the room. “Really, if you’d asked me earlier, I wouldn’t have minded.” 

“I’d spent all this time talking to you, and I didn’t know your name. I thought it’d be kind of weird to ask after our first conversation,” Brock defended, and Brian knew the feeling. 

“Okay, explanations later. Name now.” Mini didn’t seem to be in the same understanding mood, arms crossed over the counter while he nodded at Brian’s nametag. “Because I’ve been staring at this chicken scratch for two minutes and I don’t know what language you wrote it in, but it’s not English.” 

“Alright, drama queen,” Brian teased, though he didn’t pull any of his attention from Brock’s hopeful stare. “It’s-”

“Brian!” It wasn’t him who spoke his name, but Tyler, whose glare looked ready to kill when storming out from the storage closet. “If you don’t put that hat on your damn head, I will make you eat it.”

“Brian?” From the corner of his eye, he picked up how Mini scrunched his nose and waved a hand to the side. “Blah, how boring.”

“I think it’s nice,” Brock replied, and Brian realized how quickly he didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion. 

“I think he’s going to be jobless if he doesn’t put his hat on.” Tyler looked unamused by their conversation, but Craig’s curiosity seemed to rise when he glanced the taller man’s way.

“Wait, who are you?”

“Tyler, the owner of this gym. Got a problem with that?” Brian knew there was a reason Tyler rarely talked to new clients, leaving that job to himself or Anthony; his people skills were shit. But Mini didn’t seem to mind, his hum filled with mischievous intent. 

“Just wanted to know where I can sign up. If I get to look at you each time I work out, I’ll be practically living here. Might even do yoga. Heard it helps you be more flexible.” Mini emphasised his claim with an eyebrow wiggle that made Brian snort, Brock sigh (how often did this trainwreck of flirting happen?) and Tyler glare before he stormed away. 

“He could literally break you,” Brian clarified, though the threat only seemed to widen Craig’s grin. 

“I live for the challenge.” Then Mini was snatching one of the application forms, moving to the chair to settle in and begin the process. Brian was amused by the turn of events, and the slight smile that crossed Brock’s face when he shook his head was enough to give Brian a boost of confidence. 

“When your friend’s done with the form, give him this.” Making sure to grab two, Brian held out the schedules to Brock with a shrug. “It’s got our classes on there, as well as the information for our trainers. Names, phone numbers and emails you can reach us at. We do classes like yoga, pilates, fat burning, even some cardio kickboxing. You get in for free if you’re a gym member. You should check one of ‘em out.”

“I… I think I will.” Brock’s nod was more to himself than Brian when he looked down at the paper, taking a few seconds to look it over before he spoke again. “Thanks, Brian.” 

“Anytime, Brocky.” The warm exchange of glances they shared was nice, and it was one of the first times Brock didn’t shy away from their connection. The warmth in his stomach fluttered for a moment, but he didn’t try to push down the sensation. 

“When this thing asks if I need any accommodations-” Mini’s voice broke the moment like glass, both jerking their heads over to look at how his teeth chewed on the pencap through his words. “would it be considered sexual harassment if I put Tyler’s dick?” 

“I should go help him before he gets banned for life.” This time, when Brock made his exit, it wasn’t hurried or flustered. For once, Brian didn’t feel like Brock wanted to get away from him. And when Brian gave him a thumbs-up during his work out, the wave he got in return was bright and confident. 

Brian really loved Wednesdays.

And that’s it for this drabble part. Hope you’re enjoying the story because it’s been fun to write. As always, love, reblog, and let me know what you think! <3

[artsninspo]

NerdBae: Part II

A/N: I really appreciate all the feedback on part I of this series so far! It keeps things fun fresh and interesting for me as a writer. Hope you love part II just as much.

Tre couldn’t stare long admiring the sight of a woman he loved in his bed sleeping peacefully. He appreciated Elle’s trust and felt as responsible for her as he did for his mother, hers and his sister. He knew he wasn’t tough enough to run the streets. He didn’t have the heart enough to risk doing anything that would make them cry tears of sadness. It’d been too song since he and Elle were together in person for more than a few minutes and he wanted to make the most of it. Get to know her again though it already felt like he didn’t need to.

After his morning workout and emails he heads downstairs to make her favourite French toast. Her smile when he walks in warms his heart. She laughs covering her face sleepily.

“You’re spoiling me rotten” she laughs sitting up to look at the plate and its perfect presentation.

“You still like this right?” He asks having gone out and bought the mangoes she always likes to have for breakfast before anything with syrup.

“Of course, you can have some let me go to the bathroom” she smiles leaving.

“I’m good I ate” Tre says before the doorbell sounds incessantly.

He heads downstairs to answer the door grinning from ear to ear when he sees his mother, Elle’s mother and Gina.

“Baby, how are you doing?” His mother smiles squeezing him.

“Good Ma, how are you? Momma Jo, Gigi?” He asks taking his time to hug them all only for Elle to run downstairs.

“Its about damn time!” Gina smiles hugging Elle like they’d been apart forever and it’d only been a month.

“Hey Momma Nina, Ma” Elle smiles hugging Nina and her mother for the first time in too long. Her mom squeezes her tight threatening sentimentalism causing Elle to pull away.

“We should toast” Gina smiles always aware of her friends mood.

“We’re all grown now Tre’s brought us together - we haven’t started pissing each other off yet.” Gina monologues getting the bottles she’d bought at the airport.

“Its ten in the morning crazy, come on lets eat breakfast. Tre made some we can share”

“We’re rich now Tre has money - we don’t have to share anymore!” Gina exclaims making her mother shake her head.

“What can I make you Gigi?” He asks.

“Omelette, ham and cheese and watermelon circles not triangles” she smiles always being difficult.

“You just ate piggy” her mother teases.

“I’m trying to get thick!”

“You’re a mess G” Elle smiles heading up the stairs and back into Tre’s room where her breakfast awaits.

“Ooh you woke up in his bed and got brought breakfast - you’ve got your groove back and turned my brother out?” Gina smiles stealing some mangoes. Elle only shakes her head at the nuttiness of her best friend.

“Shut up” she says chewing a mouthful.

“What?”

“No one turned anyone out” Elle clarifies.

“I don’t know how were friends sometimes?” Gina groans annoyed taking a bite of Elles French toast.

“He’s your brother”

“And you’re both uptight you should- Gina is silenced by Elles hands covering her best friends oversized mouth.

“Shut up - don’t want to hear it. Besides don’t you think my priority should be making nice with mom?” Elle reasons rationally.

“Good dick can relax you, calm you”

“G, then you need it way more than me” Elle laughs making Gina do the same.

———-

Tre was pacing; a nervous habit. All the girls had left accept for Elle who was nursing a headache from out drinking Gina at the club lastnight. He stops seeing her.

“Need anything?”

“No” she responds with a question in her eyes eyeing him before taking his hand and seeing his nails. The evidence was there plain as day. “Tre what’s wrong, we’re happy, everything’s perfect” Elle reason’s honestly letting his hand go as she leans against the wall.

“I made a move, and shares fell right above this expo I have to go to. It’s going to be humiliating - everyone in the field already isn’t fond of me because I held out and secured my own funding” he explains.

“Come on Tre, you know we came from a regular family, regular area, it’s your third year in business. You’re self taught, self made and making them jealous already” Elle reasons honestly. It takes him by surprise for a moment as her words register to be the truth in his mind. His eyes look to her in confusion.

“When’s this thing?”

“Tomorrow” he admits.

“Give me two hours let’s get you a nice suit and you’re going to go there and keep your head high. No one is bitching you out Tre. Come on look at these muscles - you’re acting like you look like Steve before the serum” Elle babbles making him laugh.

“So you know their names now?” He taunts.

“Hey, I pay attention when their hot” Elle says chucking the deuces and heading to get ready. Tre has never been one for fashion. He’d always been a jeans and a t-shirt guy. His sports coat his mom enough, then in college he put all his time into sports, school and working. There was no time to get fresh or worry about it.

“If I see you in another fucking collared shirt like this is still high school and we’re in those oppressive uniforms!” Elle returns looking like a bombshell, her bouncy silk press and natural glam  beautifully accentuating her features.

“See these Tre? These are hot” Elle points at his defined collarbone muscles. “this little weird button thing doesn’t do it justice, you need a crew neck it’ll show off your shoulders and arms, possibly chest if you size it right. You don’t go to the gym for nothing do you?” Elle continues searching through his closet and passing him a suitable black t-shirt.

“No” he responds almost sheepish.

“Tre, just be yourself like you are when you’re here, everyone loves you. Be confident you know your stuff. They wouldn’t be up your ass of you weren’t a threat”

“When’d you become the expert?”

“Are you kidding Tre? When I could have given out blowjobs I worked really hard getting clients. Everyone was pissed and jealous but I had to win for me. Mom told me not to drop out to be with Cam and I did. You know I’m stubborn, had to get back on my feet first - that meant working hard.”

“You can always call me”

“Didn’t want to piss anyone off with the back and forth”

“But you’re done now?” Tre asks intently. He didn’t know much beside Cameron didn’t deserve Elles loyalty, love or her presence.

“Yes” Elle nods.

“Good, I told everyone you’d be alright. If not that man better be careful I could invent something for him” Tre mutters playfully making Elle laugh.

“Okay muscles”

The drive to the department store is about half an hour and Elle lights up like she’s in a candy store when they enter, taking Tre’s hand and bringing him straight to the suits:

“Hmmm, navy or forest green?”

“Black” tre responds wanting to keep it simple.

“I’ll put you in ox-blood to really stand out if you don’t stop”

“Navy” Tre picks automatically.

“Good, I think you should do white shirt - tailor is there. Go get yourself fitted. Convince him to get it done promptly and I’ll be back with cuff links, a tie clip and a tie”

“Elle” he groans unhappy

“Thank me later” she laughs heading off. Cameron wouldn’t put a suit on to save his life. Even when it meant investors or patrons. He was a talented sculptor and painter. He dabbled in poetry good enough to make Elle’s heart flutter. But his last piece broke her heart and stirred rage in her that she didn’t know she had.  

She shakes the thoughts of him out of her head picking through the available cuff links before settling on a gold pair of cuff links and tie clip with a deep navy but slightly metallic silk looking tie.

Heading back to the fitting area Tre is surrounded by three guys. His posture is defensive and self conscious. One she knows - most people got bored of trying to bully someone so nice but I guess not these asshats. Looking herself over and reading the situation she heads over.

“Who’s your date or are you going solo?” One of the jerks snickers painting a smile on Elle’s face.

“Babe are these the right ones you wanted” Elle says sweetly looking up at Tre who takes them from her skeptically. Elle touches his biceps before passing him the basket.

“I love you you look in a suit” she smiles winking playfully before turning and feigning shock at the presence of his three assailants. “Sorry, did I interrupt? I can go if you were talking business” Elle continues playing up everything that kind of guy wants and Tre finally clues into her act.

“No babe, you’re fine here”

“Mike, I didn’t know Tre was spoken for” one introduces as Elle sits crossing her legs and giving a polite wave.

“Tre speaks for us” she corrects appealing to their toxic masculinity only causing their eyes to widen more.

“You’ve been hiding this beauty from everyone? Why?”

“We should do a triple date with our girls and get to know each other” another one says eyeing Elle intently and her smile fades.

“I don’t think so” she says before painting on a fake smile and looking them over with distaste. They were loud and gaudy in their personalities and clothing. Tacky assholes. “It was nice meeting you” she waves and the men are too stupid to realize she’s dismissed them and they walk away obediently. Tre just smirks when they’re gone, they wait mostly in silence as the tailor finishes his measurements.

“You’re something else”

“Those asshats weren’t going to get away with coming after you”

“So you pretend to be my girlfriend, they’re going to ask about you forever and when you’re not around or you get a new man they’ll never let me hear the end of it” Tre muses aloud.

“We’ll find your someone suitable” Elle reasons making Tre smile.

“But she won’t be Elle Black” he says in a teasing tone.

“Afraid not” Elle admits.

“Let’s get you a gown so you can continue the charade of being my arm candy”

“A gown?!” Elle spins to face him.

“C’mon you have to help now that you stuck your nose in it” Tre smiles holding Elles hand as they cross into the women’s section. Elle scours the racks diligently choosing a gown that will accentuate his suit perfectly and isn’t inappropriate for the circle.

“Yes, no, maybe?” Elle asks a silent Tre as he admires her in the dress wide eyed.

“What are you trying to do?” He mutters breaking his eyes from her figure and making eye contact.

“Tre come on, what you want me to look blah? All these guys rate a man from his portfolio, net worth and their women”

“What happened to not being owned or possessed? Looked at as an accessory.” He repeats the words he’d heard her say a million and one times.

“You’re not some piece of shit asshole” Elle smiles. “How many times did you go out of your way for me? I’m good at playing the game for people to like me - it’s what I do in sales. Don’t make things one sided”

“You are a saleswoman” Tre comments gruffly and annoyed. “I’m not a fighter and I don’t want to hear the disgusting things they’ll say about you in this dress” he adds protectively earning a kiss on the cheek.

“We’ll show our faces, schmooze a little and leave within the hour and go to that new restaurant you were telling me about” Elle gathers her hair to one side turning so she can be unzipped.

“Thank you Ellie” Tre hugs her from behind instead giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Anything, always” she smiles repeating his words only to get a forehead kiss as he releases her unzipping the dress and heading out of the fitting room.

A/N # 2: How do we feel about team too much Gina? Elle and Tre? His business situation? The family dynamics? Or whatever else stuck out to you. Thanks for reading!

___

@bugngiz @lifelover4u @l-auteuse  @notsomellowmushroom @princessasaani @heavensangelxo @bakarilennox  

@tastingmellow @chaneajoyyy @thehomierobbstark @jad3djay @thickemadame @doublesidedscoobysnacks @aanairb @hooliemooliedonutshawp

@quietstorm-73 @thememoireeofme @tip222u @amelatonin @cherrystainedlipsbaby @keiva1000 @highlifeflylife

@queenflaws @uzumaki-rebellion @cutewylie @twistedcharismaaa @xo-goldengirl

[uncomfortable-writers]

Sugar and Spice 2 (Tony x Reader)

(Gif credit to owner)

Fandom: Marvel

Character: Tony Stark

Persona: Female 

Word Count: 3,403

Warnings: Sugar Daddy!Tony, swearing, light smut in public, NSFW

18+ Only!

A/N - Decided to turn it into a little mini series! More plot driven then just straight up smut. Enjoy <3

Read Part One Here!

Tag List: @ofmiceand-batman​ // @hulksmashin-bannerpackin //

♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡

The sunlight peeked through the slight crack in the curtains, creeping softly over your closed eyelids. You groaned, shifting your head further into the pillow you were cuddling silently refusing to wake up. It was the faint smell of cologne simmering in the air and drifting innocently into your nostrils which reluctantly made your eyes open. Of course he was gone. Tony never stayed the night. He usually left soon after the deed was done, sometimes a few hours later if he craved further affection like cuddles. He must of let himself out after you’d fallen asleep. 

Hickies and scratches were the only physical evidence of your late night activities, Tony’s scent a reminder that it wasn’t just a filthy dream. Your once pristine bed now a sinful disarray of tousled sweat-stained sheets, pillows scattered on the floor along with the pink bodysuit you’d worn. You willed your heavy heart to stop dwelling on the nostalgia from last night, sometimes you just wished that when you woke up in the morning, Tony was still there. With a shake of your head you pushed the thoughts away reminding yourself that this was only a business arrangement. Sitting up on your bed you felt like you were hungover; your body ached from the unholy acts Tony inflicted upon you. You wouldn’t have it any other way though. 

Reaching out you picked up your phone. Your eyes scanned quickly over the various notifications ignoring the ones from Instagram and Snapchat, you were looking for one in particular. The little bit of naive hope you had left was diminished when you saw only a notification from your bank stating that a recent deposit had been made, “Typical”, you murmured, you didn’t know why you still hoped he’d send a good morning text, afterall when did Tony ever text you just to talk? 

“Shit!”, groaning you quickly swung your legs over the side of your bed. You were late for work. Again. There was no way your boss, Pete, would tolerate this. Because of Tony you were late for the third time this week, he always wore you into a sleep coma. 

You scowled at the burnt out candles as you grabbed a set of work clothes out of a drawer and dashed into your bathroom. A few hours late was better than not turning up at all right? It took you minutes to get ready, grabbing your already packed bag, you left to catch the bus for work hoping that you could still keep your job.

//////////\\\\\\\\\\

The journey was mundane apart from the anxiety seeping in your bones. You almost turned and bolted way from your place of work but you ignored the apprehension. You couldn’t run from all your problems in life.

Your friend Mia was the first to greet you as you entered the bustling workplace, for an office it sure was lively, “Pete’s gonna have a field day with you”, she teased waltzing past you to the break room, “Is that why you were late again?”. Mia tapped the side of her own neck with a smirk and you suddenly realised you hadn’t covered up the hickies. You couldn’t help but to grin back at her, “Mind your own business”. Mia hovered by the break room doorway to dish out one final taunt, “Y’know I don’t even know why you still work here, if I was getting what you earn in one night I’d retire for life”. You rolled your eyes at your friend, she knew about your arrangement just not who it was with although she tried on many occasions to find out. Walking over to the clock-in machine you called back, “Girl needs a hobby Mia”. 

Your mood was starting to look up, maybe today wouldn’t be as bad as you first though. Just as you were putting your clock-in sheet back into the slot, Pete popped his head around his office door, “(Y/N)! My office now!”, he did not look happy. Mia tapped your shoulder, “Good luck”, and made her way back to her desk. ‘Spoke too soon’, you thought.

Smiling sheepishly, you leaned through the open door way, “You wanted to see me?”. Your boss nodded his head and motioned for you to come fully into the room. You offered him your sweetest smile, sitting down you clasp your hands in your lap and tried to turn up your charm. He sighed. Rubbing his forehead he finally met your eyes, “I’m gonna keep this to the point (Y/N). I’m making you redundant, you’ve had too many warnings”. You put on your best puppy dog eyes, “Pete please-”, but your boss cut you off, “I told you what would happen a few days ago if you were late again. You’ve had too many chances”. You wanted to protest again. Sure you didn’t need the job but it was something to do on the side to keep a steady income, just in case of emergencies. Ultimately the arrangement you had with Tony wasn’t forever. “No ifs or buts, I want your desk cleared by the end of the day”, Pete said then he wordlessly went back to typing away on his computer signalling the conversation was over. You nodded your head and walked out of his office feeling quite frustrated. 

Your mobile vibrated against your hip. You fished it out of your pocket as you dropped onto your office chair:

From: Daddy ♡

Hey princess, daddy wants to play xoxo

Given any other circumstances and you’d be hornier than Loki’s helmet, but right now you were pissed off and defeated. 

To: Daddy ♡

Not now i’m busy 

His reply didn’t take longer than a second, almost like he was waiting for you which unbeknown to you he was. Sat alone in his huge office, on the highest floor of Stark Tower Tony grew bored of doing paperwork. His eyes lazily read through mission reports, his mind drifting to something more fun than paperwork, that something being you.

From: Daddy  ♡

So? go to the bathroom and take some pics for me ;) xo

Your patience was being tested. You scowled at your phone, you were in this mess because of Tony, “Ugh”. Mia popped her head over the cubicle at the sound of your sigh, “Trouble in paradise?”. You didn’t look at her as you typed out a blunt response, “Yeah”.

To: Daddy  ♡

I said no

Tony frowned at your text, genuinely stunned by your response. You were usually always up for whatever fun Tony wanted. He slumped back in his luxury leather chair for a few moments trying to formulate a response. When his brain came up short he rested his chin on his hand and typed a reply, confused about what had upset you so much. Tony wasn’t used to rejection, especially from you. After replying he dropped his phone onto the desk pouting, he schemed up a plan to make you happy again. You must be truly down in the dumps if you didn’t want to play with Tony when he asked.

From: Daddy  ♡ 

Okay

You didn’t grace Tony with a response able to tell that he was upset. Mia rested her head on the top of the cubicle, “Take it Pete wasn’t too nice”. You put your phone into your bag, staring at the clutter on the desk you tried to figure out what you wanted to keep and what you could trash. “Got till the end of the day to tidy this shit up and go”, you lazily spoke deciding that your nails were a lot more interesting. Mia made her way around into your cubicle, “Looks like I better help you then”.

It was around 4pm when you finally got home. 

Two small cardboard boxes were discarded by your door containing what little desk ordinates you’d deemed worthy of being saved. The rest was trashed, Mia drove you home thankfully so you didn’t have to struggle with the boxes on the bus. Your room was just as messy as you left it this morning only adding to your soured mood. Discarding your work heels you waddled over to your bed and dramatically fell onto it. As much as you wanted to sleep you could feel it evading you, much like you were avoiding checking your constantly buzzing phone. To distract yourself you decided to go job hunting, not the best way to spend a Friday evening but it was better than moping around.

You didn’t even bother to tidy up your bed sheets as you slowly opened your laptop lid and sluggishly began browsing. You phone pinged again and finally you welcomed the distraction.

Grabbing it you began to read through the notifications ignoring most of them until you came to Tony’s messages:

From: Daddy  ♡

are you free yet princess??? xoxo ---- work’s boring wanna play?? xo ---- c’mon (Y/N) u know i dont like the silent treatment :( x ---- miss u baby girl ♡

You rolled your eyes, as annoyed at him as you were, you couldn’t resist the charisma he exuded even over text.

To: Daddy ♡

sorry stressful day at work, miss u too x

The local advertisements were boring as ever, nothing was catching your eye. Mia’s words about retiring echoed in your head, maybe it was time to work full time as a sugar baby. You thought about it for a few seconds before you envisioned Tony’s reaction. He could get very jealous when he wanted, maybe you’d bring it up with him if you couldn’t find any suitable job offers.

From: Daddy ♡

it’s okay baby, get dressed im taking u out for dinner. my treat. be there soon xoxo

“Guess I’ll get ready then”, you mumbled tossing your phone onto the bed, like usual you didn’t really have a choice. Gliding over to your wardrobe you pulled the doors open and stared at the contents. Dinner with Tony meant putting on a show and splashing the cash. Plates of expensive food that costed a small fortune for only a minute portion. Wine aged for centuries and dresses fit for models. It was never simple with Tony so there was no way in hell you could get away with putting on a t-shirt and jeans.

Your hands slipped over costly gowns made of the finest silks and other fabrics, the colours wonderfully exuberant in the gentle light. All beautiful gifts from Tony. He loved to spoil you, loved to have you on his arm in some sheer, little black dress that showed your delicate curves and long legs, loved the way people would look longingly at you both, jealous that you were with each other. Time was quickly passing by as you studied each dress, they all fit you perfectly and you adored each one. Usually you would’ve asked Tony what colour his suit would be so you could match but you didn’t have time. Sighing for what felt like the billionth time that day you automatically reached for a short black one but your hand hesitated. Hovering over to a red dress you decided to switch things up. The makeup on your face was simple just like the small, black clutch you paired with your black heels.  Your phone whistled and you took that as your signal.

Skipping outside you first saw pricey convertible, you opened the passenger door and ducked in.

“Hey princess, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?”, Tony grinned, leaning over he placed a peck on your cheek, “Booked a place at your favourite restaurant, in your favourite booth too”. You barely had time to pull the safety belt around you before Tony pressed his foot to the peddle and jetted off.

/////////\\\\\\\\\

As much as Tony joked, complimented you and even touched you affectionately, the smile on your face didn’t quite meet your eyes and he couldn’t help but to be bothered by it.

“You know if you didn’t want to be here you could’ve just said no”, Tony half-smiled trying to keep the mood jovial although you could hear the underlying sadness in his tone. You tried to remain playful as you dismissed him, “Like you would’ve taken no for an answer”, your eyes then drifted around the restaurant. You were situated in a booth a few metres away from the other customers, almost secluded from everyone else. The booth was next to a massive window which showed the outside world below, it was dark now and the lights from various buildings lit up the night sky like fairy lights on a Christmas tree. Tony moved a little closer, his knee touching your own as he rested one of his large hands on it, “Alright you got me there but there’s something bothering you, so spill the beans (Y/N), I can’t help you otherwise”. This made your attention float back over to him; he was looking at you with such a sincere look in his wide brown eyes, he squeezed your knee encouragingly and you couldn’t help but crack before him. It was one of the reasons why you were still in an arrangement with him, Tony was so caring unlike any other man you’d ever met before.

A pouty look caused your bottom lip to jut out. Tony didn’t even try to hide his eyes glancing to them, dirty thoughts blooming in his mind. You continued to hold the expression secretly basking in knowing how it affected him. “I got fired because of you”. Finally Tony made eye contact with you, his eyebrows rising at the statement, “I got you fired? So that’s why you’ve been so pissy. Was it because of these?”, he rasped as he touched the few hickies visible on your neck and scattered just above the cut of the dress’ cleavage. Memories of last night invaded his mind and he couldn’t help but to smirk. You slapped his hand away, “No. You made me late again because I didn’t wake up in time”. Tony let his hand fall back to your knee, his eyebrows now knitted in confusion, “Sweetheart that sounds like you’re blaming me for a you problem”. You were starting to get irked again. There was truth on Tony’s part, you should’ve set alarms but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. “No it is your fault, you came round late and let me fall asleep straight after”, your emotions were obvious on your features. You were about to swat his hand off your knee but Tony tightened his grip, a sacrilegious smile plastered to him. 

“My bad princess, you’re right, it’s my fault”, Tony’s calloused fingers ghosted up your exposed thigh, “Let daddy make it up to you”.

 Your eyes widened slightly as he started to push your dress up higher, he scooted closer to you in the booth completely intoxicating you with all of his being, “What? Here?”, Tony laughed at your incredulous tone, freezing his actions as you held his wrist in place. He leaned in to kiss your neck, “Let daddy make you happy princess”. You stifled a moan as his teeth grazed across one of your bruises, your grip on his wrist temporarily loosened as the first bouts of pleasure stirred within you. Tony leaned back into the booth, his other hand came to pull you into his side to urge you to relax, your head rested on his shoulder but you weren’t entirely comfortable yet, “What if someone sees?”. Tony placed a gentle kiss to your crown, “Just relax baby, I’ve got you”. 

His finger flitted over your clothed pussy, hot to the touch, you whimpered softly involuntarily feeling your legs flinch open to allow him more room. “That’s my good girl”, Tony cooed, you gripped his bicep as you let him please you. To anyone else in the restaurant it would’ve looked like you were cuddling Tony, but little did they know he was about to be knuckle-deep in your cunt.

Tony started to rub with two fingers, ever so slightly bumping against you clit as he stroked up and down. You tried to keep your breathing even, going as far as to bite your lip. “That’s it princess, just let daddy take care of you”, he praised feeling your panties dampen. He took it as cue that you wanted more. The attention stopped ever so suddenly. Tony pulled your underwear to the side, the air was cool against your core which was burning hot. His fingers were poised over your entrance, his voice was a low whisper that commanded your attention, “Tell daddy what you want, beg for it”. Tony had gotten you so worked up from the teasing that you didn’t stop yourself from indulging him. You cheeks were dusted pink as you briefly lifted your head to see his eyes, “Please daddy, I want you to fuck me with your fingers, please”, you mewled looking sultrily at him through your lashes. “God you’re perfect princess”, he replied, leaning into kiss you. His tongue made its way into your mouth and just in time as he finally plunged his fingers into your slit, a groan erupted from you but Tony swallowed it. 

Your tongues clashed perfectly in time to the rhythm Tony’s fingers were pounding into you at. Tony was the first to pull away, his lips swollen and hair slightly tousled, “When I first saw you in that dress tonight I knew sooner or later I’d have to touch you”, Tony slowed his fingers to deliver deeper strokes. You tried to resist the urge to buck up to meet his hand by squeezing his bicep, one dodgy move and people would know what you were up to. “I can’t wait till we blow this joint because I’m going to bend you over my car and fuck you silly”. You bit your lip to suppressed a hum, Tony continued, “And that’s a promise baby girl”, his fingers sped up again. Luckily the atmosphere of the restaurant was loud enough to block out the elicit noise of Tony’s fingers squelching in your pussy.  Tony added another finger to stretch you deliciously while he used another to rub your clit in tiny circles.

“Oh god daddy”, you purred feeling yourself getting closer to orgasm. Tony started to curl his fingers deliberately to hit spots within you that usual made you scream. You teeth drew blood as you harshly bit down on the inside of your cheek. “Gonna cum for me?”, he murmured into your ear, nuzzling it with his nose. “Yes”, you said breathily. It seemed impossible but Tony went even faster, your hips wiggled ever so slightly, “Then do it”, he instructed. With a few more well placed thrusts from his fingers your pussy clenched, warmth gushed around them. Tony was sure you’d bruised his arm from how hard your fingernails were digging but he didn’t mind. He helped you to ride out your orgasm, eventually stopping his movements altogether when you were done, “Good girl”, Tony commented withdrawing his fingers, he placed your now soaked underwear back in place. A raging blush blossomed on your face as you knew there’d be a wet spot on the chair. 

Tony wickedly licked his fingers clean, “You taste sweeter than any dessert, am I forgiven now?”.

Your lungs were still heaving in your chest, “I guess so, thank you daddy”, you pecked his lips and revelled in the fact you could taste yourself on them. Tony smiled at you, “Only guess so? I can get you your old job back if you want it, all you have to do is give me the name of your boss”. You shook your head, you tugged your red dress down until it was covering you correctly, “I’ll find a new one”. The last thing you wanted was for the people at your old workplace to know you were banging the Iron Avenger. Tony still grinned at you, “I can help with that too. Can even up your allowance till we find you a suitable place”, he finished with a wink. As grateful as you were, you didn’t need him to hold your hand everywhere you went, “Thank you but I’m sure I’ll get one just fine”.

“Alright suit yourself”, he chuckled loving how self-assure you were. A waiter approached your table carrying the orders of food, “Perfect timing, we’ve worked up quite an appetite”.

[goddessofthundathighs]

V. DINNER DATE

“Why didn't you tell me you had the tongue of an anteater? It seems like something you would've brought up once or twice since we've been in such close quarters,” O'Shea inquired as the two women strolled down Rodeo Drive. As promised, after they finished lunch Skylar took her shopping to search for a gown for the conference as well as to reward Shea for behaving so well during her little experiment. Sky’s response wasn’t immediate. She simply chuckled before removing the Prada shades from her face and using them as a makeshift headband to tame her natural curls.

“One, you never asked, and two, I’m a lesbian and an expert in female anatomy. Not knowing how to eat pussy is a disservice to myself as well as to my profession.”

“Touché,” O’Shea replied. There wasn’t much she could say after such an explanation. With that, the ladies continued their trip, spending an obscene amount of money, but Sky felt like they both deserved it. After spending several hours in Chanel, Gucci, and Christian Louboutin, the pair had dinner and then retired to their respective living quarters.

Conference Day

O’Shea sat behind the desk, iMac open to her emails, sketchbook open to her latest design, and her iPhone blasting her Créme de la Pénis playlist. The sensualness of the sexually charged lyrics helped fuel her creativity when it came to new design concepts. Just as she was finding her groove, the music stopped, interrupted by an incoming FaceTime call.

“Yes Dr. Stevens?”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Powell, you look beautiful today.” Her heart fluttered at his compliment, but she wouldn’t dare let him know that. It the short time that they had known one another, he had unlocked almost all of her sexual kinks and they had yet to have sex. O’Shea was perplexed yet intrigued and therefore continued in the sweet torture.

“Why thank you, Dr. Stevens. What do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

“Are you alone?”

“Skylar is in her office in the back of the store.”

“Are there any customers in the store?”

“Not right now.”

“Perfect. Grab a pair of headphones, I wanna try something.” Shea looked at the screen in confusion, but complied anyway.

“What are you wearing?”

“Well you can see my burgundy turtleneck, but I’m also wearing a leather pleated mini skirt, some fishnets and my black platform Doc Martens.”

“Mmm, that’s quite the visual, Ms. Powell. Think you can be a good girl for Daddy and play around for a bit?” The sexy voice was back and had O’Shea creating a puddle in her seat.

“That face is telling me yes, but I prefer verbal consent.”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good girl, spread them legs for me.” As if she were in a trance, O’Shea spread her thighs and trailed her hand down to her pearl.”

“She wet?”

“Aquafina.” He smiled, revealing a new set of top and bottom grills, with the canines stretched like vampire fangs, with a dangerous glimmer in his eye.

“Should I be afraid?”

“Only if you wanna be, babygirl. But has Daddy ever given you a reason to be afraid?”

“Well it was that one time—”

“Girl shut yo ass up and pull that thong to the side.” She couldn’t help but laugh at his tone and his impatience.

“So how far does a nigga need to go with you to bring Bennie out the cage?”

“Why on Earth would you wanna meet her?”

“Well she’s clearly the one that runs the show. I just wanna see if she bout what she be talking bout,” his Oakland twang making an appearance ever so slightly.

“Be careful what you wish for, Stevens. Bennie doesn’t go back in the cage so easily when she’s summoned.”

“You let Daddy deal with that, Ms. Powell. Now like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, take two fingers.. stick them into that pretty mouth..get them wet.. and rub that clit nice and slow.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then that’ll be you all pent up and pissed off until tonight.”

“Touché,” she agrees. With that, her middle and ring fingers found her slickness, rubbing slow circles over her throbbing clit. She stared at the camera, biting her lip as his deep voice rumbled in her ear. Slow then fast then slow again she worked herself closer and closer to her release.

“You almost there, Princess?”

“Yes Daddy,” she whimpered, eying the front door as well as the door to the back office to ensure that no one caught her in her lewd act. This was the furthest she'd gotten with just her fingers in months. It had to be the combination of the movements and his voice.

“Good girl, now stop.”

“What?!” she screeched, as she was seconds from an orgasm.

“I just wanted you to get that pussy ready for Daddy. I’ll see you later on tonight.” With that, he ended to call, leaving her horny and pissed off in her seat. Her forgotten playlist was now a tease of what could've been.

“Skylar Moreau Greene!” she growled as she marched to the tiny woman’s office.

“I didn’t do it,” Sky answered, puzzled as to why O’Shea was disclosing her government name to the world.

“That blockhead friend of yours is about to come up missing!”

“What happened this time? You were just playing with ya pussy on FaceTime for him.”

“How did you—“

“Surveillance cameras, my precious.” Shit.

“Ok whatever. Anyway that nigga keeps getting me worked up and then leaving me hanging! I’m sick of it.”

“I thought you liked being edged?”

“I do when my release is the endgame. I haven’t cum in days! And no, I don’t want you to eat my pussy again even though that shit was IMMACULATE!” Skylar giggled at the admission. She’d been talking about it since the day it happened.

“O’Shea, sweetheart, I’m about to tell you something real. Erik isn’t like any other guy you’ll ever meet. His willpower and patience are unmatched, especially when he has a point to prove. The only way you’re gonna get what you want from him is by following his rules.”

“But this shit is dumb,” O’Shea pouted.

“Is it really dumb or are you just a spoiled little bitch?”

“Hey, hey! Lower your voice, ma’am. I’m in a vulnerable state and those are very triggering words.”

“I know princess,” Skylar teased, causing O’Shea to pout and stomp her way out of the office.

“I’m going to get my hair done!”

“Have fun!”

O’Shea left the salon two hours later with a large butterfly braid cascading down the left side of her face. Per Shea’s request, the stylist adorned the braid with gold charms and cording while the in-house makeup artist beat her face to the gods. They decided to go with soft glam on the face and lips, while adding gold glitter and false lashes for a bold pop. Once home, she freshened up and stepped into her dress. O’Shea stared in awe of herself in the custom ball gown Skylar had designed for Erik’s conference.

“My best friend is a flashy nigga, so his date has to match his fly.”

It was an Egyptian style white gown with gold accents and a cascading draped train. She completed the look with golden open toe high shaft stiletto gladiator sandals.

“If this doesn’t get me any dick, I’m fighting somebody,” O’Shea said as she admired herself.

Erik arrived promptly at 7:00. He stood clad in a black velvet suit with filigree detailing, black and gold Louboutin loafers, and his signature gold-rimmed glasses. His dreads were neatly braided to the back of his head and in his hands was a box of black and gold designer roses adorned with sparkling stones like the ones O’Shea had seen on Instagram. The man looked good enough to eat and though the sight before her had her essence pooling in her panties, Erik was still met with O’Shea’s attitude.

“I see someone’s still salty from earlier,” he taunted, noticing her cold demeanor.

“Whatever. Let’s just get this shit over with,” Shea fussed.

The ride to the banquet was quiet, too quiet for Erik’s liking, but he wasn’t giving in to O’Shea’s bratty antics. She needed to learn that she wasn’t the one in control of this situation and that she'd get the attention she craved whenever he chose to give it, but until then, he was content in torturing her every chance he got. He ran the tips of his fingers up the split in her dress, smirking to himself as her body inadvertently reacted to him. He watched the goosebumps spread across her skin as his fingers traveled further up her thigh and almost full out cackled at her pouting because he put both hands back on the wheel. He was sure he’d break her tonight.

O’Shea was awestruck once they finally entered the grand ballroom. The walls of the ballroom were ivory white with gold trimmings with four giant chandeliers lining the middle. Each table was decorated with black table cloths and accented with red napkins and red roses.

“Dr. Udaku, nice to see you again,” a colonizer spoke shaking Erik’s hand.

“Nice to see you as well, David. How’s Margaret?” Erik asked, not really caring about the state of the man’s wife but more so to move the conversation along. While the pair conversed about meaningless bullshit, O’Shea slipped away to grab a drink from one of the cocktail waitresses and admire the scenery. Erik caught up with her just as she'd downed her third glass, wrapping a protective arm around her waist.

“Tsk. You shouldn’t wander off like that, Princess. You'll get Daddy all worried.”

“Then Daddy should pay better attention to me,” she retorted. “And I thought your last name was Stevens. Who the hell is Udaku?”

“Mind your business,” was all he said before pulling her chair out at their assigned table. She pouted and fidgeted the entire time, making her displeasure for being there no secret to anyone paying attention. After about the fifth obnoxious yawn, Erik leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“Don’t forget you're a guest. Don't think that I won’t handle your tiny ass because we’re in public,” he threatened.

“Not worried.”

“Didn’t say you had to be.”

“Ugh, niggas make you cum once and wanna talk slick,” she spat.

“Once? That lil stunt in my office had you cumming way more than just once.”

“Nigga I’m talking tangible cum, physical orgasms.. and Shy has you beat in that department. Compared to her, your head game is mediocre.”

“Mediocre?!” he whisper yelled, causing a few heads to turn their way.

“I said what I said,” O’Shea answered, taking another sip from her champagne. He didn't respond and they sat in silence listening to the speaker.

After enough time had passed post spat, the pair began engaging in comfortable conversation with the other couples at the table. For a second, O’Shea had forgotten all about the dormant beast that sat to her left until his right hand found her bare left thigh again, squeezing the flesh roughly. O’Shea bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from moaning aloud, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Dr. Nigga as he continued his sweet torture. He kept kneading and squeezing her thigh, causing her to clench her thighs together. She was unable to contain the squeal that left her lips as Erik smacked her outer thigh, causing her to spread her legs.

“Are you alright, O’Shea?” David asked, genuinely concerned by her sudden outburst.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine,” she stuttered out. Erik’s face remained neutral as his hand continued its quest upward into her panties where he found her throbbing clit. His thick fingers massaged slow circles, causing her wetness to pool once again. O’Shea tried desperately to close her legs, but it was useless. With his free hand, Erik took a sip of his water before leaning casually over to whisper in her ear.

“Try to close them again and I’ll bend you over this table,” he threatened with another smack to her outer thigh. O’Shea whimpered softly as she looked up at him and then down to her lap where she could see his fingers working their magic on her sensitive nub, her dress pooled in her lap. After the speaker made a small joke, the room laughed politely and Erik smiled at O'Shea sweetly before leaning back down to her.

“Is Princess gonna listen to Daddy?”

She closed her eyes and nodded, too far gone in the pleasure. Eyes still trained forward as the guest of honor spoke, Erik moved her panties to the side and slid two of his fingers into her, making ‘come hither’ motions against her g-spot.

“Oh fuck,” O’Shea moaned as silently as she could manage before putting a fist to her lips, biting down on her knuckles. David's attention was drawn again and he looked from O'Shea who seemed to be in great discomfort to Erik.

“Erik,” he whispered aggressively. Erik's face was of someone completely uninterested in what was going on and David pointed subtly at O'Shea, “Help her,” he implored shamed by Erik's lack of attention to her condition as he was hailed to be a capable and sought after doctor.

“Do you want my help,” he innocently blinked at O'Shea who was breathing heavily with her hand at her mouth so not to cause anymore attention.

“O'Shea?” He watched her face in faux concern as if he wasn't the source of her unraveling. “I think you might need some more attention,” he smirked as David finally turned away satisfied with Erik's involvement.

Erik’s deep chuckle was back at her ear as he pushed his digits as far into her as they would go, causing her essence to gush down his knuckles. O’Shea couldn’t take it. The forbiddenness of what they were doing had her wetter than she had been in a while and her orgasm was building fast. She leaned her head on his shoulder, whimpering so that only he could hear.

“Erik please..”

“So sweet now,” he murmured teasingly. “Please what, Princess?” She had begun rocking her hips to match his rhythm and aid in her completion.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered as his fingers increased in speed, repeatedly stroking her gspot.

“Cum for Daddy, babygirl,” he purred, using his thumb to simultaneously massage her clit. She dug her nails deep into the rich material covering his thigh, biting her lip hard to mask her moan as her orgasm overtook her. David looked over to the pair, noting the sated look on Shea’s face.

“Are you sure you’re alright, O’Shea? You look flustered.”

“N-No sir. I’m totally fine.”

“She just needs some water,” Erik interjected. “Drink some water,” he directed O'Shea and she picked up her glass taking a sip and nodding. “She tends to get flustered in crowds. We're trying out a harmless little therapy tonight,” Erik lied as he pulled his hand from between her thighs, discreetly slipping his fingers into his mouth as David and another woman at the table listened with interest of the therapeutic method. The sight alone had O’Shea clenching.

“Isn’t that right?” he asked as he licked the last of her essence from his middle finger.

“Right,” she answered, taking a sip from the glass of water he slid in front of her since she'd finished her own.

“Ahem, if you all will excuse me, I’ll be right back,” Erik announced smoothly standing from the table and leaving the banquet room towards the hall of restrooms. O’Shea took a few more sips from the water glass as she tried to regulate her breathing. Meanwhile, David engaged her more in conversation mentioning relaxation techniques which worked to calm her nerves further. That was until her cell phone dinged in her clutch. She pulled it out to see one unread text message from Erik.

Bring yo ass here..

She bit her lip lustfully, as she slipped her phone back into her bag.

“Please excuse me, David. I need to get some fresh air.” With a confident stride, O’Shea, or should I say Bennie, made the short journey to the bathrooms where Dr. Nigga was waiting, leaning casually against the sink. His eyes traveled up and down her body hungrily as she stood before him.

“You gon’ take that shit off willingly or is a nigga gon’ have to rip it?”

“Nigga you will do no such thing,” she spat, planting her feet on the floor in front of him.

“Bet.” The harsh sound of ripped fabric filled the bathroom as Erik grabbed the split in her dress and tugged until the dress lay in two pieces on the floor.

“Bitch that was a $3,000 dress!” she fumed, his hand clamping tightly around her throat in response.

“What you just call me?”

“Bit—”

“Choose your words wisely, Princess,” he threatened as his fingers gripping the mound between her thighs once more, finding her throbbing core.

“That was an expensive dress Daddy,” she whimpered as she slowly starting grinding against his hand.

“You acting like Daddy can’t buy you another one, Lil’ Mama. I gave you simple instructions and you didn’t follow them so I handled it my way. Now look at you, grinding and clenching around my fingers like you deserve for me to let your bratty ass cum again.” He removed his hand from her center, sucking her juices off of his fingers. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, biting her lip as he stared down at her.

“What’s the matter, Lil’ Mama? You mad? You tired of me edging you even though you asked for this shit? Talk to Daddy.”

“I just wanna cum, Daddy. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Oh you begging now? That’s cute. This must be the little girl in you. What was her name, Buttercup?” Her face heated. She knew he knew about all of her submissive personalities, but she didn’t expect him to bring out her Little Girl so quickly.

“Yeah, that’s my lil’ baby right there. You know, Bennie really hurt Daddy’s feelings earlier. She told me my head game was mediocre. You don’t think that, do you baby?” he asked as he stroked her cheek.

“I think I need to experience it again, Daddy. I don’t really remember.” He smirked before lifting her in his arms and placing her legs on her shoulders. He stepped closer to the wall so she’d be able to lean her body back and began feasting from her. His thick tongue snaked its way into her entrance, thrusting back and for the way his dick wanted to.

“Eyes on Daddy, Lil’ Mama,” he purred as he flicked his tongue against her clit before sucking it gently. He spelled both of their names against her clit, effectively drawing 3 more orgasms from her before settling her back on her feet.

“Daddy’s baby feel better?” She smiled goofily, nodding her agreement. “Rate Daddy's tongue on a scale of mediocre to exceptional.”

“Phenomenal,” she grinned. He collected the ruined dress from the floor and deposited it in the trash before draping his coat around her shoulders. She was thankful that he was so big, his large coat masking the fact that she was completely naked underneath. Erik went back to the table to say his goodbyes, blaming their sudden departure on O’Shea having sensory overload, being tired, and suffering a wardrobe malfunction.

“Oh, it was great to see you again, Erik. Good to meet you as well O'Shea. Take care of her,” David said innocently, waving his goodbye.

“I will,” Erik nodded curtly turning to lead O'Shea to the exit with his lips to her ear whispering all the while.

—————

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[rwbyremnants]

WARNINGS: BLACK SUN CONTENT. Also, lap-sitting, cunnilingus, tickling, pet play, in-depth kink discussions. Plus this is kind of a short chapter.

Note: Sorry for all the delays! I'm going to try to post more regularly next month I swear, just busy writing and editing this month. Hope you guys are still into it!

=Chapter 6

Two orgasms were enough. When the moans subsided, Winter brought Glynda’s hips to a stop and kissed her throat on either side, then breathed against her skin, "Are you ready to end play fully, Snowmare?"

Still shuddering from the sheer intensity of the finish, the older blonde slowly nodded, squeezing her shoulder a short moment to try and hold her support. Until at last, she whispered, "End play."

“Alright.” When Winter drew back, her face was casual, but her businesslike questions had an undercurrent of need. "Are you okay? Do you need to get off me quickly, or to have any of the cuffs taken off? Otherwise, you can rest here for a minute."

Panting still, she found herself lightly straining against the binds on her ankles. That was her greater need by far, to be free to move however she wanted. Licking her lips, she asked, "The restraints please. Then I can… clean up the mess."

"Hmm… alright, but only if you can bring them back up here. It's a little hard with this thing still inside you." Then she grinned wickedly. "Not that you have to take it out right away… I know sometimes I like to let it linger."

Nodding again, she leant right forward against Winter, pressing their chests right up against one another so she could bring her feet back in her direction for her to work with. But each move was sending little aftershocks of pleasure through her. Some which she didn't want to stop, even after play. But alas, it couldn't linger all day.

Not when Qrow was growing more and more impatient by the minute. His hand had ended up covering the crotch area, attempting to keep it down and not too obvious. But it was just making it worse.

"There," Winter sighed as she finally undid both clamps. She had thought about only doing the one, but didn't want Glynda to accidentally step on or trip over the dangling hazard when she got up. Then she settled back a little more comfortably, grazing her hands up and down her back.

"So. Now you've had your fun; I know you'd been wanting to do this again for a long time. Was it everything you hoped for, or did I let you down?"

"Oh you were more than satisfactory," she agreed, still not having shifted from her position on the member just yet. Still gaining her breath, she held her shoulder. "You were fantastic. I mean, I was uncertain, with Qrow being in the room, but no, it was wonderful. You probably ride him pretty hard."

"…Wait, what?" Qrow asked, only just snapping out his lust filled daze. The erection was still as present as ever, still quite obviously there for both Glynda and Winter to see. "You think I'm the sub? Really?"

"I would," Winter chuckled, smiling warmly over at the clearly horny man. "And we might try it sometime eventually, but for now, he's my Dom, actually. I'm alright being a switch, and could never go full-sub, but you must have heard by now that my preference is the bottom."

"Oh, I have. I just assumed… Look, I thought you and I were both on the same page with him – thinking he’s a boor. My thinking was, if you felt that way about him, you'd much rather put him in his place than the other way around." When she finally found the bravery to get up and off the member below her, she let out a long groan as she rose to her feet before adding, "Besides, he… doesn't seem like someone who could Dom very effectively to me."

"Oh really?" Qrow asked. Thankfully, the fully erect length was coming to an advantage this time. They were still in the room, still out of people's view. He was on enough grounds to make the following challenge: "A drink says I can, right here, right now, Dom the hell outta Snowbird."

"As if Glynda wants to see a male Dom, anyway," Winter chuckled, standing up to slide the strap-on down her legs. "Would you like to get a condom out and see to business? Unless you're really serious about this bet of yours."

"Oh please,” Glynda snorted. “I'd much rather buy a drink than win one so easily. But I suppose your confidence is admirable."

Rolling his eyes in response to that, he ignored her while she began to pack everything away again, including the anklets and wrist cuffs. Although when Winter asked about the condom, he tilted his head. "Wait… even before she leaves the room? Can we do that?"

Nodding at the drawn shade over the window, Winter nipped a napkin out of he bag and did her best to wipe Glynda's essence off the dong. "Well, strictly speaking, we're not supposed to have actual sex in these rooms, but… it's essentially an understanding. If they don't know about it, they can't be held responsible. If you’re asking if we can fuck in front of Glynda…" Her shoulder raised and lowered. "Performance anxiety?"

"So it's a case of 'if someone catches you it ain't the club’s fault', then? Right." But in truth, he had meant the latter. Would she allow them to even do such a thing? Glynda didn't want him involved with her, but this was different. This was just he and Winter scening on their own. But the erect member spoke volumes. He needed to do something soon. And if Winter was offering, now was a better time than any. Reaching into his wallet to pull out a condom packet, he smirked.

"Lemme get your seat ready, then."

"Ooh," Winter cooed with a grin, crossing her legs. Then she looked over to their third party. "Oh, and if you want to watch, you're more than welcome, but… I'll understand if you'd rather not. I just need to get off after all that fun with you."

"Oh, I might take a peek while I tidy all this up." It was so matter-of-fact with her. Collecting all the toys and straps, she was distracted enough.

Distracted enough to not mind when Qrow pushed down both his trousers and his underwear, holding himself erect and ready for Winter to work herself on it. The need for her far outweighed his need to dominate, but that didn't stop him from at least sparing the taunt as he held his member still.

"Sit down, Your Highness."

Lucky for both of them, there was nothing covering the most intimate part of her; just straps on either side. Grinning wickedly, she threw one leg up and over, then began to grind said straps up against his length. "I can't yet," she teased. "My seat isn't shrinkwrapped."

In his haste, he had forgotten the most simple step! Groaning outwardly, he quickly tore the condom wrapper apart, tossing the remains aside as he tried to reach around her to sort business. However, that was giving him an idea.

"Y'know what, Princess?" he asked, lifting the hand with the condom up so she could take it from him. "I think you should face away from me and sit on me that way. Face the one who you just Dommed so she can watch her royal highness get fucked silly."

"You know what I say to that idea?" Grinning, she stood and turned around while he slid the condom on, but before she sat down, she pressed her hindquarters in toward his face. "Kiss my ass."

"God, you disgusting straights," Glynda rolled her eyes and uttered, still mostly minding her own business.

Even when Qrow merely grinned at the display. Not too long ago, he had that ass filled with all sorts of goodies. If only he could do that again to assert his authority. But not wanting to disappoint, he did lean in, and pressed a kiss on one of the cheeks.

"Thank you," Winter told him in a voice that was clearly pleased that he capitulated. Immediately afterward, she slowly began to lower her hips. "Ready for me?" She didn't even have to inform him that she was definitely ready; the moisture glistening between the leather straps did that all on its own.

He was indeed ready. In fact, so much so, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Even if he hadn't made the bet with Glynda, that didn't stop him from trying to act more dominant toward Winter. Holding both of her hips for himself, he was already pulling her down onto his thick member, sighing in satisfaction now that they were finally getting off.

"O-ohhhhh," she moaned out, feeling the thickness edge inside her. Every inch of her flesh cried out in joy that it was finally getting the attention it had been demanding for almost an hour. "Oh yes… that's so good! Make Princess feel good!"

"Oh, you bet," he growled. Not even allowing her time to properly settle, he was already starting to push her more firmly against him, forcing his cock all the way inside. And then he pulled out again, and then back in, settling into a fast pace to match their mood and need for it.

And gradually, as she zipped up the bag, Glynda began to look over and watch. Even after getting off twice, the show was certainly making her cheeks glow. Meanwhile, Winter was putting on the show that Glynda truly desired. Back arched, hips bouncing up and down, and spikes gleaming in the low lighting, she was the picture of control over herself, even in giving that control to another. A power bottom on top.

But would she be for long? It might well have been what Glynda wanted to see, but Qrow had ideas that would show him as the more obvious Dom between them. Even if the bet wasn't on, he was determined to win.

Looping a hand around her stomach, and then another up to the back of her head to pull her hair back, he held her firmly still. That was until he was suddenly rising up with his thrusts. Each time penetrating harder, building up more speed than before. Enough to make his heart race – and perhaps secondhandedly, Glynda's.

"AHHH!!!" Winter screamed out as her head was jerked back, exposing more of her elegant neck, removing all shadows from her bouncing breasts as she watched Glynda watching her. Even though this had not been her original intention, not entirely… it was a bizarrely satisfying fringe benefit. Having someone else watch her get soundly fucked was such a turn-on that she felt her climax already nearing.

"Look at that, Winter." He was beginning to tease all the more, continuing to pump his member up inside, even as he felt it throbbing. Even though her name was said, it was also a show for their audience. Of whom he noticed was still watching intently. "You might be able to Dom somebody else, but you'll always be the same thing…"

The hand left her stomach and instead headed between her legs, spreading her apart so he could get that bit deeper. Even by a few centimetres or two, it all counted. Finally, he whispered right in her ear huskily, "My, little, cumslut."

Such a word was the only thing needed to tip her over the edge, get her screaming and writhing on top of his lap as she contracted around him, shivering with each pulse of her inner tissue. Oh, how glorious! She could feel her body trying to milk him for all he was worth. She wanted it to last forever.

Not that it would. As her muscles clamped on his thick member, he found himself gritting his teeth, grunting rather loudly whilst it throbbed hard, releasing more seed into the latex. Yet again, he'd dominated sweet Winter, to the point of both of their orgasms. This time, in the audience of another. Holding her there for a short moment, he eventually slumped back against the wall, sighing deeply to try and regain his breath. After being turned on for such a long while, climaxing granted him intense relief.

Feeling the man slide free when his member softened, Winter shivered but did not otherwise budge. She needed a moment to catch her breath, as well. But either way, she was beyond satisfied; how was it he managed to make her feel so scandalously good every single time they fucked?

Then she spotted Glynda blushing and undressed, and arched an eyebrow. "Want to come sit on our laps for a third? I mean, wow, are you insatiable…"

"No, thank you." She immediately cleared her throat, looking away from them both to focus back on her bag again, and stocking everything inside. But it was fairly obvious she was affected by the show.

"She liked watching," Qrow smirked, letting her go and holding her hips instead, still panting.

"Well… I liked watching her. Not you." But her protests weren't doing anything to erase her flaming cheeks.

"Glynda… come here." When Glynda put her hands on her hips, Winter laughed. "It's not an order, just a request; we did end play." When she walked over, eyeing Qrow warily but still doing as he was bade, Winter took both of her hands and began swinging them from side to side. "If you need me to get you again, just say the word. I don't want to leave here with you unsatisfied."

At that question, Glynda smiled shyly and dipped her head. "No… no, I don't think that will be necessary, thank you. I mean… I want it, but you and he have already finished, so I don't want to be greedy."

"That seems to be a sub trait, huh? I usually end up getting Winter twice before I finish myself off." Qrow's unneeded opinion was pitched in, which earnt him a glare from Glynda once more. Not that he cared. He simply patted Winter's thighs, just as a small reminder of who she was still on top of. "C'mon, lemme put it away."

But instead, she leaned far forward and down, kissing the smoothly shaven skin above Glynda's sex. Immediately, the woman sighed with ill-suppressed need, but then she took a step backward. "N-no, don't tease me further. That's unacceptable if I'm-"

"Nothing complicated," Winter cut across her, sliding out of Qrow's lap and onto her knees as she pressed her lips into Glynda's. The elder woman shivered and windmilled her arms briefly before her hands fell to the top of her Dom's head, quivering all over as she weathered the sudden, frantic attentions. "Just some quick head. I wasn’t going to start another scene and I still do not intend to."

Now that Winter was distracted, Qrow began tucking himself back into his underwear and pants, buckling his belt again. But then his focus turned back to the ladies. Although he wanted to stare and watch their third round for the evening, he himself was still exhausted. He knew while the two could probably continue all night if he wanted, he couldn't. And watching the both of them wasn't going to do him much good in keeping to that personal promise.

Standing up, he clapped his hands, heading toward the door. "Well, I'll let you two ladies have fun. I'm gonna just… You know, browse a while."

"You do that," Winter panted in between her tongue's hungry motions. As he opened it to leave, she was already half-throwing Glynda onto the bench to continue their activities, and Glynda wasn't complaining a bit. There was no distracting them. Silently nodding, he left the two of them to their play, closing the door firmly behind him.

The occupied sign was still illuminated, and the cover was still drawn. Perfect; their privacy was secure. Perhaps he didn't fancy watching Winter and Glynda one more time, even if it was still appealing, but maybe he could satisfy his curiosity. What other activities were going on in the rooms? That's what the cover was for, right? To make viewing optional if people wanted to see?

With that thought in mind, he wandered down the corridor, looking at the various doors available. Most were vacant, but it was a weekday. Chances were they'd be completely booked out come the weekend. Although there were a few rooms at the end were also occupied. Two of them also had their visors closed; it seeming like a common occurrence this evening. But at the far end, there was one more room which had its visor open. Taking the opportunity, he spied inside…

And saw a black-haired beauty towering over a blonde man, tied to a rack, spread eagle. She was wearing fishnet stockings and a leather bustier, and high-heeled black boots with stiletto heels. In one hand was a feather, and in the other, a cat-o-nine-tails. As Qrow looked on, she bent slowly down to glide said feather over the inside of his thigh. Right away the boy below her was twitching, muscles spasming as a grin sprang to his face, and he gritted his teeth while trying to close his legs in. Of course to no avail. He only just managed to hear him asking her to stop, through a loud shrieking giggle of course; mostly the door blocked all sound.

But something in particular was catching his interest. For some reason, he found his eyes drawn to the woman, and not for the simple aesthetic reason. There was something about her that seemed oddly familiar.

After a few more seconds of teasing him, she snapped the whip at his flesh, though with such a lazy flick that it couldn't have actually hurt. The idea seemed to be more to toy with him and tease than actually invoke the "SM" of BDSM.

"Oh, ow, the pain. Please stop." Her sub had begun to tease, shaking his hips back and forth to try and draw her in toward him. He wasn’t troubling to keep his voice down, but he almost had to more read lips than actually hear the words. "If I was a prisoner, I'd give this torture a five star rating for comfort! Thought you were gonna mess me up."

His Dom’s muffled voice replied something he couldn’t catch, and she turned back to dig within something out of Qrow's range; likely a bag. When she straightened up, however… she froze.

"Is it my silicone buddy?"

But as her partner giggled, the raven-haired beauty’s focus had turned elsewhere. Specifically, to the audience member currently at the window. But rather than looking with arousal at what was happening, or even with glee, he was instead staring straight at her face. The look upon it could only be described as someone who had just seen a ghost. It had taken him a moment to put the face with a name, since he had only met her a handful of times. But eventually, muffled through the glass…

"Blake?!"

When he said her name, she looked confused. Then she smiled briefly, but the smile fell away as she continued to stare. Then she turned back to the bound man and said, "Um… chipmunk." Apparently, that was a cue to end play, because she quickly followed up with, "Would you excuse me for a moment?"

"Chi- wait, what?" But he was already watching as she headed toward the bag again, presumably to fetch her night gown. "You're just leaving me like this?!"

But Qrow had already moved to one side to give room for her to leave, waiting for her to make her way outside. Just before she did, she pulled the shade down. "Don't worry! You know I won't forget you. And I’ll be quick, I promise." Then she slipped outside, pulling a zippered hoodie on over her arms to cover the top half of herself.

"I… I'm sorry," she whispered once the door was shut and she was facing the scruffy man with the black tie and the mildly-surprised expression. "You do seem familiar, but… how do we know each other, exactly?"

But Qrow's face was only starting to light up more. It was definitely her, out of all the people he could have seen in this place. "You're that emo chick that was around at Christmas that year! You dated my nephew!" That didn't seem to be helping, and simply brought more confusion. That was, until he added, "Well, my niece… Ying? Now Yang?"

"Oh! Oh, aren't you her uncle?" Her expression was slightly more pleased now. "Wow, what a small world! God, I haven't seen anyone from Yang's family since then, other than Ruby… damn. How are you?"

Chuckling a little, mostly out of nerves, he said, "Doin' alright, all things considered. Just getting introduced to this place, as you can see." He held up the small visitor card on his lanyard, giving it a light tap to exaggerate. However he went straight back to asking, "What about you? I did kinda wonder how things went once Ying… y'know."

"Dumped me?" Nodding almost more to herself than to him, Blake leaned back against the nearest wall, stuffing her hands in the hoodie pockets. "Yeah… I was a little upset, and I missed her like hell. But we worked through it, got past it… and now we're friends again, which is great! And I have Sun and am honestly happy with him, so it all worked out."

"Guessing Sun's the guy spread eagle you're about to have your way with?" It wasn't as though he was going to sugar coat it. Not when the evidence was right there, still tied up and helpless.

Grinning through her slight blush, she answered, "Yeah… is it weird that we're talking about this? I mean, obviously we're both at the Clamp for similar reasons, so we shouldn't be kink-shaming, but… is it weird?"

Scratching the back of his head, he looked away as his own blush seemed to form very slightly. "I'm not exactly open about this kinda stuff, usually. Personal preference and my…" For a moment, he cleared his throat, looking to the other side to continue to avoid eye contact. "My… associate's rules."

Both of her hands came up in front of her to ward off further details. "Hey, say no more! I wouldn't want you telling anybody I come here, either - or that it's Sun I have in there! For his sake. But, I mean… some friends wouldn't care. I just don't want coworkers or his family finding out, mostly." Then she smiled. "So, you're new to being a… sub? Dom? I'm having trouble reading you."

"Well, after the display she put on for me tonight, that could be up in the air now. But… let's just say my test drives had me in the Dom seat." Unable to help but point at the door with his thumb, he asked back, "You always the Dom with him or do ya switch it up?"

"Always," she snorted. "I… okay, this is gonna sound weird, but even though I don't like being Dommed, I do like being manhandled. You know, just regular rough stuff, not all… all this!" She gestured down to her fishnets and boots, then up at the spiked collar around her neck. "Guess I'm picky. But we both find it fun for me to go the whole nine yards as his Dom."

The scruffier man simply shrugged his shoulders, unable to help look her up and down to admire the attire. But upon realising that she'd probably get the wrong idea from such an action, he quickly made eye contact again instead, still holding the back of his head.

"Guess everybody’s boat floats for different reasons. I mean, I think I could be a sub, but the main thing putting me off?" Quickly looking over his shoulder just to be extra sure they were alone, he then leant in a little closer. "I don't particularly wanna bend over. For anybody. It's just… not my thing."

"Are you sure?" she whispered back. When he grunted, she immediately followed up with, "Maybe you are. But just saying… I didn't think Sun would like it, either. Most guys are afraid of anal, like it makes them 'gay' or 'weak' or something, and then…" Shrugging, she raised her index finger and wiggled it around. "They turn into putty in my hands. Not all of them asked for it like Ying and Sun, either - I mean, we know Ying was a special case since she's Yang now, but some of those guys were very straight, and very against it before I…. convinced them."

Though he was turning his nose up at the mental image of his niece being handled in such a way, it did seem to get him thinking. While anyone he had ever felt confident enough to talk about sex to before had been opposed to the idea of a man having his behind teased; everyone he saw here seemed to be enjoying their fair share. Odds were that was what Sun was waiting for in the other room. Eventually he shrugged his shoulder. "Well, maybe a finger. And even that’s a big maybe."

"See? That's more democratic. But honestly, if you tried it and didn't like it, that's cool. Just… you know. Don't knock it before you do." Leaning in, she cupped a hand to her mouth. "Don't tell anyone, but… once, Sun wanted to take a double-ended dildo and do some butt-to-butt. It didn't really work that well, and we ended up falling over so much, but… it was kinda fun, for a minute or two."

That was a mental image that did seem to make him chuckle, however. But that chuckling was cut off when a muffled voice sounded through the door. One rather desperate. "Did you plan to wind me up this much then leave me tied up? Don't make me beg! I don't wanna beg for the strap on!"

"Oops!" Blake giggled, covering her mouth with her gloved hand. "Said I wouldn't forget about him… but we haven't been talking all that long, have we?" Sighing, she shrugged and turned back toward the door. "See you downstairs, maybe?"

Nodding while he laughed to himself, he gave a quick thumbs up. "You bet. Have fun smashing your boyfriend's ass."

But before Blake could answer that same needy voice from the room replied instead. "I heard that, jerk."

Sighing as she walked through the door, she growled, "Alright, alright! Nobody likes a whiny sub!" Then it was shut, and the shade was closing him off from the view this time.

Shaking his head as he walked back down the hall again, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. In a tiny amount of time, Blake, a woman he'd not met for years and years, had convinced him to let Winter try some form of anal play on him, even when he was adamant he wouldn't do such a thing before. It didn't seem so bad, all things considered. All of the men who had tried it had recommended it. So why was he so afraid he wouldn't enjoy it?

But when he neared Winter's room again, he was beginning to realise; maybe it was because he might enjoy it he never wanted to try. As Blake said, afraid of being perceived as gay. But Winter had been broadening his horizons for a while now. Maybe they could grow yet broader.

-----------------------------------------------

At long last, Winter and Glynda had finished and dressed. Even though she was used to wearing her Dom outfit on the second floor amongst the scenes, she wanted to make a seamless exit once they had enjoyed a drink, so she opted to put her dress back on before leaving the private room. Glynda did the same… though Qrow noticed she never put any underwear back on. It was quite possible she didn't wear any ever, but there was no way of confirming without asking an awkward question.

As they passed through the scenes and Winter stopped to talk to Candy again, who was being idly shocked by a male Dom, Glynda turned to Qrow and asked, "By the way… I've been wondering if you had a card I might hand out to anyone in the community? Male Doms who aren't complete chauvinist pigs are sadly rare."

Having been watching some of the scenes himself, the question caught him off guard. First there was a club like this in the middle of the city, now kinky business cards were a thing? There was far more to learn about this game than he thought. He was a fool to think it was simply fucking Winter a few times a week, it seemed. "Uh… like, laminated cards? Do they have to say if I’m an organ donor?"

"Apparently not," Glynda sighed, eyes roving over the scenes as they spoke. "That's alright. And yes, some Doms like to give out a card, usually just with their cell number and their 'Dom de plume'. I have Cinderella's… not that I'll ever call her again," she added in an undertone.

"Yeah, what’s the story with her?" he found himself asking. The tone Winter took with her when they were talking had him assuming that it was just instinctive jealousy, but now that someone unrelated was doing the same… "I spoke to her when I came in, she seemed… alright, just kinda full of herself."

A harsh bark of laughter escaped the bespectacled woman. "Oh, there are so many things. First of all, she doesn't believe in aftercare. Says it's 'not her job'. That alone is enough to make sure I'm never putting myself in her hands again; even if I didn't need it most times, knowing that she won't comfort me if I have a bad experience…" Her voice got quieter. "Or if I can't come back from subspace…"

Even the least experienced Dom like Qrow knew what “aftercare” was. Although he and Winter had never needed it after their play, he had still offered the service to her. Even if that mean just sitting and talking or general “hugging it out,” as he put it. For someone to shrug it off, it was worse than simple dominating. It was cruel.

But there was that word again, as well. "Subspace?"

"You really are just getting started." It wasn't spoken with any malice or scorn. Glancing around at the scene, and noticing Winter was face-deep in Candy's posterior, she decided to be kinder and chivvy Qrow along toward the stairs that led to the bar.

"Subspace is the mental state a sub can sometimes enter if they're in a particularly… intense scene. When you go beyond simply acting, and really start to feel like you're a lesser being. With pain and pleasure mixing together, it releases epinephrine and endorphins, shooting through your brain and- well, I might be getting too technical. Essentially, you might stop feeling any pain, or at least being able to tell you are. You can drop down into a sort of trance, detach from the reality of the scene. Reality altogether. It's a very incredible and profound experience, scary and exhilarating, but if you can't come back at the drop of a hat, or you come back incoherent and exhausted… you need to be gently soothed until you make it back to normal. Treated like you're made of glass, because even just careless treatment can make it worse, or at least make it take longer to come out of it. Which is terrifying. If you’ve ever heard of sleep paralysis, it can be a little like that: you want to move your body but you simply are not capable, and you panic but it still doesn’t help. A living nightmare."

"Huh…" It was a very odd explanation, but she had broken it down well enough that Qrow thought he understood. Winter had used the word before, but never explained what she meant. But now he had a meaning, he felt he could learn far more. And also how to make the experience better.

"So… if you wanna go for the brass ring, you want to take someone to this ‘subspace’, right? And then bring them out at the end?"

"You do." Then she shrugged. "Well… you don't want to try too hard to get them into subspace, since you might go too far. At least, I wouldn't recommend it to a beginner, or even an intermediate-level Dom. Just play the scene out the way it's meant to be played, and view subspace as a possible bonus if it happens."

"Right… Say, does this happen often? As in, like, planning out scenes from start to finish?" He asked rather nervously, shrugging his shoulders as he placed his hands into his pockets. "Cause so far, I've been winging it. Pun intended."

Smiling slightly, she finally approached the bar and dropped her bag of tricks onto the seat next to the one she claimed for herself. "There's nothing saying you have to plan one out. But a really involved scene can be… quite fun. Today's was a mixture of planning and spontaneity."

"The spontaneity part was me turning up. I know." Standing by her side and leaning against the bar as well, he gazed around at the patrons of the bar again. He still found it a little odd a place like this existed, but everyone was having a good time. Laughing, chatting, a general meetup. Even if the upstairs was filled with scenes and further upstairs was even more intimate acts going on. It was a place he never expected, but would go to again.

"So if we come again, I shouldn't need this, right?" He pointed at the lanyard again.

Turning back from the bartender she had just ordered from, she eyed the badge. "Hmm. Probably not, but it depends on your comfort level. It seems like I wore mine only once, but I've seen some people wear theirs three or four times before they're ready to begin participating. No one would think any less of you." Then she scowled. "Well, maybe Cinderella."

"I'm pretty sure I can handle her," he assured, leaning back against the bar himself to get a drink order of his own. But as he waited for Winter to come back downstairs, he turned to Glynda once again, asking, "How long's Winter been going to this thing? Or is that on a need to know basis?"

"Well… ordinarily I'd say you should be asking her, but she probably wouldn't mind me telling you it's been a little while. Still, if you want any more details than those, you had better ask her after all." Then she nodded toward the curtain that closed off the stairs from the rest of the bar. "And it seems like you can do that now."

Emerging from the curtain was Winter, who was talking amiably to a red-haired man in a white suit jacket and a bowler hat. Trailing behind him was a very short girl with two-toned hair, a collar around her neck and a leash that led from her to his hand. After a few more seemingly-pleasant words, Winter waved to him, and he executed a very brief bow before he went off to one side with his "pet" to secure a table.

Such a gesture had Qrow tilting his head for a moment while he watched, but soon turning back to the barman, calling up, "Better make that two of those, pal." Then by the time she reached the two of them, he was back facing her again, raising an eyebrow as he gestured back to the curtain. "Who was Clockwork Orange there?"

"Well, apparently he likes to be called 'Roman Candle'," she informed him as she came to a stop, slipping a business card into her cleavage. "He's heard of me and wanted to know if I'd be open to him Domming me. Of course, I'll ask around and consider his offer, but…" She glanced to the side.

"But what?" Glynda pressed.

"Well… that 'pet' of his looks a bit young. He assured me she's twenty, and that all she'll be doing is watching, but I'd still like confirmation of her age first." Then she snorted. "He told me she isn't allowed to carry personal effects while in the collar, which is fair."

"A pet that just watches? That seems like a waste of a collar to me, but each to their own, I guess." Shrugging his shoulders, he reached back around for the two freshly prepared drinks. Two more Toasted Marshmallows, both with gin. Qrow's clean night was completely off the table now, it seemed.

Although he never said it, he couldn't help but feel a slight hint of jealousy toward Winter's possible new contact. And not for the reason he thought he would. While she had her freedom and reputation around this place, he was stuck with a lanyard around his neck that warded people off. All except the rope handler who checked him out upon entry, that is.

"Well, I'm sure they do a lot of pet play things, but…" She made a non-verbal gesture to the bartender, then turned back to lean against the bar. "I get the feeling that they don't… you know, interact. Outside of the non-sexual roleplay aspect. I could be wrong, but I guess we'll see if I take him up on this."

Shrugging his shoulders, he handed one of the drinks over to Winter, soon taking a sip of his own straight after. "I'd have thought you of all people would know height isn't a factor to do with age. What's Weiss, like, 4'11”?"

"She's about 5'1", without shoes, actually. But you're right, that's not much of a difference, is it?" Shrugging, she took a sip and smiled slightly at the familiar flavour. "And it wasn't just that; she also has a very youthful face, a slight build. As I said, it's entirely possible she's twenty, but to be twenty and look that young… well, I envy her."

"Well duh, what I wouldn't give to look like anything other than a scruffy old coot with a drinking problem." The sound of Glynda clearing her throat was enough to make him glare in her direction, only for him to add, "Alright alright, less of a scruffy old coot, then. Can’t completely change my spots. Geez, I don't know why I'm still here with you two."

"Because you're a gentleman," Winter teased playfully, flicking at his necktie. "And you wouldn't dare let two beautiful blondes walk to their cars alone in the dark."

"I can take care of myself," Glynda grumbled, though she didn't sound too firm on that point. "But… it would be appreciated, I suppose."

After finishing another sip of his drink, he laughed to himself. "I'm guessing that's the 'I want to leave now' signal, right?"

Laughing, Winter placed her hand on his forearm again. "No, not at all! If you're enjoying yourself, we could linger a bit. It's… oddly nice to get to see you outside of play or bowling." Then she nodded to Glynda. "And you, as well."

"I'm not sure about us becoming… 'friends'," Glynda confessed. "I have tried not to mix business with pleasure at the Clamp. But…" Her cheeks rouged slightly.

"But you can't resist me?" Winter guessed. The rouge only deepened.

[luvknow]

intoxicating | bang chan

genre: detective!chan x undercover news reporter!reader feat. detective!minho | suspense ; ligh humor ; dialogue-heavy ; vampire au ; death warning ; suggestive (15+) summary: in a boring town like yours, where the biggest crimes are teenagers stealing from the general store, being a news reporter was not as exciting as you’d hoped it’d be. but in a matter of days, bodies start appearing in large numbers and the police force needs help big time. they call in bang chan, the best detective from the city just north of your town. the townspeople might be head-over-heels for him, but you’re not falling for it one bit, so you go undercover as a civilian administrator and get to work side-by-side with the dangerously handsome detective bang chan on the town’s biggest case in its history. wc: 9.5k

The old precinct in the middle of town was the same it had always been since your grandparents were children and you suspected that the utilities haven’t been updated since. The entire building was freezing and it was only September.

What brought you in today was this long-awaited interview you had for the opening civilian administration position. You were seated in front of the precinct’s Captain, Lieutenant, and the ever-so famous Detective Bang Chan. The interview started maybe fifteen minutes ago, but the Captain and Lieutenant eyed your resume for what had to have been the fifth time before they finally continued on.

Were all detectives really this stupid or something?

“So... tell us again why you left the News station...?” the Captain asked, raising a curious brow.

Chan, who was still quite new to the town, had a hard time understanding why the Captain was asking you the same question over and over - they weren’t like this with the previous interviewees. But it’s not like he had any idea that you were this town’s little local celebrity.

For the third time today, you replied, “I told you, reporting just doesn’t give me that spark anymore. There’s nothing to report in this town, anyways - we stopped mentioning the same pesky teenagers who steal from Woojin’s General Store when he finally installed an alarm system.”

“But why this job?”

“The position seemed interesting. I should be giving back to the community, right? The criminal law and justice minor in me must be jumpin’ out.”

“Oh, you minored in that?” Chan asked, speaking for the first time. “Where did you go?”

“I actually went to school in the city.”

“No way, me, too! Maybe we had a class together.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” the Captain interrupted. “I thought being a reporter was your dream job?”

“It still is,” you admitted truthfully. “But the dream job doesn’t always pay the bills, does it?”

“Definitely not.”

“Exactly. And I want to add on to my resume - I don’t have much to show other than my degree and the newspaper and it looks like I lack a lot of character...”

The Captain let out a big sigh as he scanned you and your short resume over a couple more agonizing times. This waiting game was actually making you nervous. What would you do if you didn’t get this position? Your plan would be soiled before it even started.

“All right, you got the job.”

“Really? Just like that?”

He shrugged. “Speaking truthfully, only two others people applied and both asked if drug tests would be performed regularly...”

“That’s not good.”

“No, it is not.”

“So when can I start?”

“Actually, can you start now?”

Perfect. “O-Oh, uh, yes! Now works just fine.”

“Excellent. Now, a few things before we start,” the Captain cleared his throat. “Any information given to you is confidential. You cannot and will not report any of these documents back to the newspaper, or there will be legal consequences on you and the paper. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” you lied.

“Sounds good. You’ll be seated by Detective Lee and Detective Bang. Will you please show them to their desk while I sort out their duties?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Wait, did you say Detective Lee? As in Lee Minho?” you asked.

Detective Lee Minho, the most annoying boy you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Four years of him distracting you in class while trying to get you to party on your free time was what made your college years not only a living hell, but the most fun you’ve ever experienced with a boy. At gunpoint, you’d admit that he was the closest thing you’ve ever had to a best friend or even a boyfriend, but you’d never let him know that, even on your deathbed.

“I did. You know him, right? He’s the precinct’s best detective.”

“I know him all too well,” you sighed.

Reluctantly, you followed your suspect through the old precinct to your desks. You didn’t notice during your interview, but he was wearing business-formal clothing that seemed too proper for detectives. You weren’t sure what they would be wearing otherwise, but you didn’t expect to witness Chan’s butt in some nicely-pressed pants.

Despite your suspicions, Chan seemed to be normal so far - not like you spent a lot of time with him, though. But you and even Minho knew this town better than anyone and that meant you both knew people don’t just waltz into town to stay, detective or not. And even if it was for an investigation, most detectives from the city would commute, but not Chan. Rumor has it he moved into the vacant apartment just below you the day he was brought in for the job.

You remember seeing him for the first time in town as he was moving into his new place, thinking to yourself that this could not have been more perfect. Your number one suspect for all of these dead body counts in town was living right below you! Thankfully, he didn’t see you, and you didn’t want him to until you had your plan set in stone.

Sure, living in the same building would be very convenient to keep track of him, but it wasn’t enough. Who knew what he was doing while at the precinct, or on his breaks? You had to be riskier, smarter. Your journalism degree would finally be rewarding if you could crack this case and when you saw the ad on craigslist for this opening for the civilian administrator position, you jumped at the opportunity almost immediately. When your boss commended you on your ambitious attitude and approved the project, you ended up getting the interview, and now here you were, starting at square one.

That’s one box checked off of the list.

“Did you like the city when you went to school?” Chan asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“I did. I miss it a lot.”

“You do seem like a city person. If you liked it so much, why are you in this little town?”

You shrugged. “It’s because it’s my home town. I can’t seem to leave this place, even if I tried.”

“Mm, wish I could say the same.”

Before you could implore, you both arrived at your desks. All the desks were humble and quite close to each other - close enough that you could see the papers on Chan’s desk if you tried hard enough. You didn’t even get a chance to settle in your seat before the brunette boy across from you swiveled his chair around and tisked teasingly.

“Well, well, well,” Detective Lee Minho taunted as he leaned back on. A smirk grew on his lips when he saw your annoyed expression. “If it isn’t our town’s little celebrity and my favorite classmate! What did I do to deserve to be in your presence? Are you here to confess your undying love you’ve had for me since our first year?”

“Zip it, Minho,” you hissed.

“Aw, I missed you, too, baby.”

“You went to school in the city, too?” Chan asked, amused by your weird friendship.

“Yeah, I didn’t tell you?” Chan shook his head. “Well, yes, I did. This little Newsie and I took a lot of the same criminal law and justice classes together and we were study partners.”

“‘Partners’ more like I did all the homework and you just copied it.”

“You’re just salty that I did better on the exams than you did.”

“I’m still salty! I hate people like you.” Minho just shot you a wink as his response.

“Is this what third-wheeling feels like?” Chan joked.

“Nah, that’s just how me and _____ act around each other - I pine over them endlessly and they pretend not to like it.”

“Yeah, pretend...”

“Anyways, let’s all go out together to eat for dinner! We’ll celebrate your first day and this cool new friendship.”

“Eh, I don’t know -”

“I’ll go if you go,” Chan said. You were caught off guard by his sudden direct approach, and even Minho was a bit amused, but maybe this was a good idea. “I want to get to know you more.”

“Can’t say no now, _____,” Minho teased.

“It’s like college all over again. Fine, I’ll go with you guys.”

“Great! It’s a date,” Chan said.

“Weird way to word it, but ok! It’s a date,” Minho cheered. “When do you start training?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t even know who’s training me.”

“I am,” Chan said. “The Captain just emailed me everything. It’s pretty self-explanatory, actually - it’s a lot of filing and records management.”

“Records? Like of suspects and cases?”

“Mm, exactly. You’ll be helping me and Han organize our files while we work on this case they called me in for.”

“That case!?” you shrieked, trying not to sound too excited. They were literally giving you everything you needed to write for your report! And once you found out who was causing all of this, you’ll be the best reporter the country has ever seen. This undercover job was almost too easy... “Minho, you’re on it, too?”

“Yeah. The case was actually mine to begin with.” A frustrated Minho threw a file folder filled with pictures of the bodies, where they were found, footprints, and suspects onto your new desk. It wasn’t the first time you’ve seen such graphic photos, but you were just so excited to literally be working on this much-anticipated case hands-on that your eyes were wider than Minho’s mouth. “I cannot, for the fucking life of me, piece any of this shit together. It’s pissing me off! I was here 'til three in the morning last night.”

“What do you mean you can't piece it together? Isn't some of it at least decipherable?”

“Not at all. The autopsies the medical investigators are giving us indicate severe blood loss in the victims. They were all practically dried out, like human jerky, but there’s no indication of any wounds or cuts to any body part. No bullet wounds, or knife cuts, or a blunt object to a body part, like nothing at all. They’re basically saying the blood was either sucked out extremely slow with a small needle or that a fucking vampire did this. Like, what am I supposed to do with this information!? It’s useless!”

“And you think you can help?” you challenged Chan.

"I hope I can - I mean, I really want to. When my sergeant told me about the case, I immediately said yes, I have to work on it. There was no way I’d pass up this opportunity. Let’s hope graduating top of my class at the academy proves being useful.”

Chan leaned over your shoulder from above your sitting form, shifting through all the photos and notes as if it were his first time reading through. He leaned down close enough to your face that you could smell the cologne he was wearing. Sandalwood and patchouli - how typical of a suave detective. Being in close proximity with your subject should have made you feel unsettled, but instead you were surprisingly comfortable. It was like Chan gave off this vibe that was telling you to trust him, like he knew you felt a certain way about him being the new guy in town.

“I can’t look at it anymore,” Minho groaned. “It’s driving me insane.”

“You don’t have much of a choice. This is the only case we have for now,” Chan said.

“I know… Can we talk about it more at dinner, though? I’m starving ~”

The family restaurant across town was the only place worth going to because they were the only place who didn’t freeze everything that’s on the menu. The three of you sat in one of the booths, with Minho next to you and Chan sitting across. While you and Minho were looking over a shared menu, Chan couldn’t help but eye you both.

“So you two aren’t dating…?” he asked.

“Oh God, no,” you scoffed.

“Why do you always say it like that?” Minho pouted.

“You two look good together. You even fight like a couple.”

“_____ isn’t really into dating.”

“Really? Why?”

“Who has the time? I sure don’t.”

“Hm. Interesting,” Chan mused. After the waiter came and took your orders, Chan whipped out the large file for you to look at more closely. “Ready to hear about the case?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“All right. Let’s start with the very first victim.” Chan handed you several pictures of what looked like a shriveled alien curled up on the ground, all wrinkly and skinny and actually looking like their blood was sucked out of them. A before-the-killing picture was placed right beside it for comparison. If you hadn’t known this was a before picture, you wouldn’t have guessed they were the same person. “Person number one, found just within town limits in the forest out west of here. Minho said they figured he was so deep in the forest because he was hunting, according to all the equipment he had.”

“They don’t even look similar… Look, they’re like an empty juicebox.” you muttered.

“Crazy, right?” It was amazing that even with all the gory pictures spread out, Minho still managed to eat like it was nothing. “A couple other bodies were found in the forest shortly after. We thought this person was luring people into the forest so they they didn’t have to be so cautious, but while we were on the lookout in the forest, a body was found like a mile away from the precinct.”

While you were shuffling through all the before pictures of the victims, you could see why Minho was having a hard time with the case. “There’s no relation to these people, huh?”

“Absolutely nothing. I guess this killer doesn’t discriminate.”

“That’s unsettling…”

“Don’t worry, baby, you got two strong and handsome detectives to protect you, right, Chan?”

“Of course. We wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

“I suddenly have zero fear,” you scoffed. “So there’s no puncture or cuts or anything? How is this even possible?”

“I told you, it’s either small needles or vampires.”

“Oh please, vampires? In our little town? What would they even be doing here?”

“Exactly, our town is little. We’re being wiped out as we speak!”

“You guys believe in that stuff? Witches and vampires?” Chan asked, raising a curious brow.

“_____ does. In college, I had to drag them out to halloween parties because they were afraid of all the walking spirits and vampires that would roam our campus.”

“Why vampires in particular?”

Unconsciously, you brought a hand to your neck. “I have a weird sensitivity thing with my neck. I don’t like having anything near or on it, even shirt collars.”

“Damn, even in bed?” Minho teased.

“Gross, don’t ask me that!”

While you and Minho were bickering, you both failed to catch Chan biting his bottom lip as he watched you play with your neck.

“Well, tonight was fun, guys!” Minho stretched his arms high into the night sky. “Do any of you need a ride home?”

“I’m ok, my apartment complex is right there,” you said.

“I’m actually in that direction, too. I’ll walk with you,” Chan offered.

Perfect.

“All right, I’ll see you two tomorrow bright ’n early. Goodnight, my love! And goodnight, Channie ~”

“He’s so stupid…” you chuckled while walking next to Chan. For those brief couple of hours, you almost forgot you were supposed to keep a watch on him. But he was so friendly and personable that it was so easy to let your guard down. You had to be more careful.

“He’s interesting… but he’s a good detective.”

“Yeah. Even if he copied my homework, he aced all the exams and was the top of our class.”

“I guess I’m lucky to be working with him, huh?”

“Please, if anything HE should be the lucky one. You’re Detective Bang Chan, afterall.”

“Ah, you flatter me ~” the most boyish smile you’ve ever seen grew on his lips, causing his dimples to appear. If there was any weakness you had for a boy, it was his boyish smile, and dimples were just icing on the cake.

Yeah, you really had to be careful around Chan.

“Cute…” you said mindlessly.

“What’s cute?”

“U-Uh…” Wow, were you an idiot or what? Well, there was no use hiding it now. “You’re, um, dimples are cute.”

Chan’s cute smile only widened. “You’re going to get me in trouble, _____.”

He left it at that and walked ahead, not allowing you to implore further. You’ve only spent one day with Chan and you noticed that he liked to keep to himself most of the times, which only heightened your curiosity. But if you didn’t play your cards right, he’d be onto your game and you have this gut feeling that he can turn the tables on you really quickly, with or without malicious intent.

“You live in this tower, too, right?” he asked while walking up to the door.

“How did you know?”

“I saw you when I was moving in.” Oh no, that’s not good. “I thought we were on the same floor, but I think I saw you keep going up. Ah, that sounds creepy, doesn’t it…?”

“Only a little.”

The elevator ride was silent and more terrifying than awkward. Throughout the whole day, you were feeling comfortable and fine, even in moments when you were alone with Chan, but now that it was night and the only noise was coming from the elevator, your felt your heartbeat quicken. The air felt dryer and thicker than it usually was. Something about being alone with your subject at night made you feel like there was no use trying to hide your intentions. It was like Chan already knew what you were up to and he was playing your game before you even started.

“Before you go, there’s something in your hair that’s been bothering me the whole night. Do you mind?” he asked, holding up a hand.

“Go ahead,” you blushed.

Gently, Chan removed a couple tufts of fluff and fixed and tucked the loose strands of hair behind your shoulder. The tips of his fingers brush your neck and your body immediately reacted by emerging goosebumps all over your skin, following the shivers that travelled throughout. When you meant your neck was sensitive, that was just an understatement. Hypersensitive was more like it, and if something were to just brush up against your skin on that part of your body, you’d always have to hold back from letting out a soft moan. When Chan saw you swallow nervously, his pride shot through the roof and the corners of his lip couldn’t help but smirk.

“This is your floor, right?” You could only nod in response. “Then this is goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“G-Goodnight!”

You tried not to look too affected by that intimate encounter, but even watching you from behind, Chan knew you were nervous. Or were you turned on? Or was it both? Either way, he knew having you wrapped around him finger might be easier and a lot more fun than he thought.

You needed a cold shower.

“Fuck it, I quit.”

While trying to sort through and find all the personal files of all ten victims, Minho throws an eleventh one on top of your pile. You looked at your friend with wide and terrified eyes. It was only yesterday the three of you were discussing ten victims over dinner. Now there was another to investigate and you’re positive that there would be more come tomorrow.

“What happened this time?” Chan asked.

“Found early this morning at the back of the restaurant we were at last night. It’s the head chef. The killer even shoved an apple in his mouth and tied him up all pretty.” Minho lets out a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me why this feels like we’re in an episode of Hannibal, but without the cannibalism part?”

“Was an autopsy performed?”

“Not yet, I think they’re doing it right now.”

“Let’s go,” you proposed.

“What?”

“I said let’s go to the autopsy. There has to be something that the M.I.s are missing. Maybe we can see it.”

“_____, these are trained professionals, there’s no way they’d miss anything.”

“Well, you have to go take a look anyways, don’t you? Might as well double check their work.”

“Fine, if you insist, we’ll go after lunch. For now, we should just get the chef’s file ready.”

“I’ll do it,” Chan said, getting up from his seat. “I’ll be right back.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched Chan leave the room. The only words exchanged between the two of you since that moment in the elevator were simple good mornings and you were still too embarrassed and shy to say anything more than that. Minho noticed your uneasiness and was already thinking up ways to tease you.

“So what’s the real reason you’re working here?” he whispered after getting closer to you. “One rumor has it is because you’re bored with the News. My instincts think it’s because of a certain Chan you want to Bang.”

“Ok one, I’m not bored with my job, and two, I literally just met him.”

“So?”

“If I tell you the real reason, you can’t tell anyone, ok?” Minho nodded eagerly. “There’s something not right. Nothing big like this happens in this town, and you know it! It’s almost… supernatural. And I need figure out what’s happening.”

“And you think Chan’s responsible?”

“I think he’s partially responsible. I don’t trust him, Minho.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”

“What?”

“I don’t trust him, either,” he whispered quieter. “There’s something off about him. He’s not even slightly affected by all of the bloodshed! At first I thought it was because the city detectives get wild cases all the time, but even the city doesn’t get shit like this.”

“Exactly! God, what do we do? You have to help me, I get a feeling he’s on to me already.”

“Dude, you just started!”

“I know I’m weak, that’s why I need your help!”

“We’ll talk later, he’s coming back.” On cue, Chan returned to his desk. “Hey, Chan, me and _____ were actually thinking of looking at the autopsy right now. Wanna come with?”

“Sure. Autopsies are my favorite.”

“Totally normal detective thing to say,” Minho muttered to no one as he led the way.

The medical investigation wing of the precinct was incredibly clean and terrifyingly sterilized and you felt like you shouldn’t have even set foot into the room, but if a slob like Minho could walk through, then you figured you’d be fine. The M.I.s had the chef out on the steel table like the main course to a fancy dinner as they continued to exam his body from head-to-toe.

“Did you find anything?” Chan asked one of them.

“Yeah, uh… Well, i-it’s better if I just show you.”

The spooked-out M.I. brought the three of you over to the head of the chef. His mouth had been covered up by a mask, probably because the rigor mortis had set his mouth permanently open due to the apple that was shoved in there. Without much care, they turned his head over and revealed his neck.

“There’s two punctures,” they pointed out. “Two perfectly small and circular punctures, like in those hollywood vampire movies.”

You couldn’t even stand to look at the two holes in his neck. Just the thought of that happening to you made you cover up your exposed neck with your hands and arms while the two boys got a closer look.

“What the fuck…” Minho muttered. “Do you believe in vampires now, Chan?”

“I don’t really have a choice here, do I? Are there any DNA prints on him?”

The medical investigator shook their head. “No. Not even a single finger print. Whoever or whatever did this to him must have been an animal, or something.”

“No animal in this town is capable of doing that,” you stuttered nervously. “That’s a vampire for sure.”

“Is he the only victim that has these markings?” Minho asked.

“No, he’s not.” The entire wall on the opposite side of the room was decked in drawers of steel that held the dead bodies of the victims of cases that were still under investigation. The wall and the room itself were huge, but the investigator must have pulled out half of the drawers full of the victims that were a part of the case. “Take a look at every single one of their necks - the same two dots, precisely and accurately in the same spot on every victim.”

“How could this have been overlooked until now!?”

“It wasn’t until one of the senior investigators found the holes. They’re so small and blend in with the wrinkles that it makes it really hard to see unless we spread the skin out.”

While Chan and Minho got a closer look at all of the victims, you decided to stay back and sit out on this part of the case. Dead bodies freaked you out, and holes on a dead body’s neck made it worse. You saw Chan looking back at you from time-to-time to check up on how you were doing and each time you made eye contact, he’d give you a little reassuring smile that everything would be ok soon.

After taking pictures and updating the files of each victim, the three of you left the wing to look further into this.

“Are you ok?” Chan asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just spooked...”

“Halloween is coming up. Maybe this person’s some sicko who’s just trying to be seasonal. Pumpkin spiced lattes aren’t how they used to taste, after all,” Minho scoffed.

“How is this even physically possible? Like what possible tools or tubes did this person use to suck out that much blood? There’s no way an ordinary person is capable of this.”

“And to be that medically precise each time?”

“Maybe he’s a doctor,” Chan suggested.

“Dude, how are you not freaking out about this!? Does the city get cases like this often?” Minho asked.

The handsome detective merely shrugged. “We get a lot of cosplayers who try to imitate vampires, but there not as clean as this person. Does that count?”

“I guess…”

Your entire day consisted of organizing all of the files and putting them into the precinct’s system. It was a lot of boring office work you weren’t used to at your old job, but at least your tasks weren’t too distracting that you were able to keep a close eye out on Chan. He didn’t seem to be doing anything out of the ordinary today - he and Minho were just trying to piece things that were even just slightly similar together - but no matter what, the combination of theories they thought up didn’t match with anything.

After an excruciating eight hours plus overtime, you finally finished logging in everything.

“Detective Bang, I finished,” you said, handing him the large file.

“Please call me Chan,” he chuckled. “Detective Bang sounds like a stripper name. Are you done for the day?”

“I think so.”

“Are you heading home?”

Now was a great time to try out those acting skills you acquired in that one two-credit gen-ed class. “Actually, I was going to wait for you, if that’s ok. I’m a little scared to go home by myself.”

A wide grin spread across his seemingly-innocent face. Why did he have to be so handsome? “I’ll be more than happy to take you home. I’ll be done in just a sec.”

“I’ll head out myself then. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” before he exited the precinct, Minho made a texting motion to you that said, ‘make sure you text me when you get home.’

“Ready to go?” Chan asked, already packed up.

“Yup.”

The walk home from work wasn’t too far, but it was far enough to creep you out once the sun began to set. Since the three of you put in overtime for this case, the sun had already set and the night was young. The old town street lights haven’t been updated or replaced since the town came to be and they didn’t really help light the way home.

“Jeez, no wonder you’re scared to go home. I’d be terrified, too.”

“I hope you don’t mind me accompanying you,” you said innocently.

“Of course not. I enjoy your company.”

The loud rattle of the trash cans beside you startled you to death and you huddled close to Chan as an instinct. When a black cat ran away from the trash can, Chan burst out a boisterous laugh.

“You’re cute,” he said once his laughing settled.

“That’s not funny! Who knows, that could have been the vampire, or something!”

“That’s the cutest vampire, if I’ve ever seen one.”

“What kind of childhood did you have to be so fearless like this?”

Chan shrugged again, which you figured was a habit of his. “I had a pretty normal one, although I play a lot of video games with jumpscares so that might be the reason why I’m not scared of many things.”

“The famous and fearless Detective Bang Chan, what did we ever do to deserve your service?” you bowed teasingly.

“Ah, not even. If anything, I’m the one that should be thankful. The city starts to get boring after a while.”

“Really? I can’t imagine that being so.”

“Yeah, you know how the city is, though - always loud, crowded, you never get any privacy except the bathroom. It’s nice to be in such a peaceful town where people mind their own business.”

What you mean is that you’re happy no one’s watching you carefully, you think to yourself. Except me.

As you entered your apartment building and the elevator, Chan failed to press the button to your floor. Before you could do it yourself, he began to speak.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over and have a glass of wine? Or some coffee? I didn’t get a chance to know you better over dinner last night, and we are neighbors who will be working closely together, after all. I know it seems like an intimate setting, but I thought I would put the offer on the table, anyways.”

This was it - this was going to be your first big breakthrough with your suspicions. You can’t pass this opportunity up, no matter how dangerous it may seem.

“That sounds nice,” you said, giving him your sweetest smile. “I could use some wine after today.”

Chan returned your gesture innocently. “Excellent.”

For some reason, Chan’s apartment seemed much larger than yours, but maybe the feng shui of his furniture was responsible. His place was so intricately decorated with a lot of antiques and delicate pieces. It was like walking into an historical art gallery.

“I like to go antiquing,” he said, amused by how in awe you were about his place. “Sorry if my place reminds you of your grandparents’, or something.”

“No, not at all. It’s quite beautiful. I just wouldn’t have guessed that about you.” Because it’s totally normal for a grown man in his twenties to regularly go antique shopping.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. You can sit at that table, I’ll bring everything over. I hope you don’t mind red wine - it’s all I have.”

“Red is perfect.”

As he fetched the wine, you quickly scanned his home and mentally noted all the details you could acquire. A lot of the antiques were black or red in combination with gold, adding a touch of haunting elegance to his beautiful abode. It was quite gothic, if you were to describe it. Those must be his favorite colors. On the opposite side of the room was what you assumed was the bathroom and the bedroom. Jackpot.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” you said.

“Go ahead, I’ll be here.”

Quickly, you headed straight for the bedroom door. If you were caught, you already had a lie made up in your head. His bedroom was just as exquisite and haunting as his living room. The furniture was decked in the same black, red, and gold, but didn’t hold quite as many trinkets.

“Are you lost?”

From behind, Chan whispered dangerously close to your ear. So close that you could even feel his breath tickle your neck. His airy chuckle reached your neck, too, as he was entertained by how quickly you stiffened your back. You’re too easy to tease.

“Y-Yeah, I’m sorry! I went through the wrong door and was, um, captivated by your room. It’s so beautiful.”

“Thank you. I chose each piece individually. I’m glad you appreciate it as much as I do.”

“Right. S-So this one’s the bathroom, right?” you stuttered, pointing to the other door.

“Yup. I’ll get back to the wine.”

In the bathroom, you had to take a breather from the smallest stimulation that reached your neck. Hypersensitivity was really no joke. Since you knew Chan couldn’t sneak up on you in the bathroom, you did what any other sane person would do in your situation - snoop through his medicine cabinet.

But there was nothing. Only a pill bottle half-filled with a strong dose of aspirin.

The bottle said each pill held 1000mg of the active ingredient. What would Chan need a blood thinner with such a high dosage for?

No matter. You’ll figure that out later.

When you exited the bathroom, Chan sat at the table patiently, flipping through his phone.

“I chose a finely-aged pinot noir from Napa Valley,” he said once you sat down.

“That sounds expensive. I would have been just fine with Barefoot wine.”

“I would never subject my guests to such a horrific brand.”

Oh, the wine was good. Like, really good. So good you already felt the effects of it. Your entire body became warm and tingly.

“Ah, you’re so pink already! How cute,” Chan gushed.

“Do you always call your co-workers/neighbors cute?” you accused.

“No, although none of them were as cute as you.”

“Detective Bang Chan, Mr. Charisma.”

“That’s what the ladies like to call me.”

“Oh, yeah? Is that what you tell people you’re on a date with?”

“I would, if I’d been on a date in the last couple of years,” he sighed.

“You’re telling me you haven’t been on a date in that long!?”

“This profession gets busy, ok! As an intellectual once said, ‘Who has the time? I sure don’t.’”

“How dare you quote me…”

“So you don’t date, huh?”

“Well, Minho made it seem like I hate dating, which is not true, I love it. It’s just no one seems to catch my eye these days, you know? The people in this town are so boring…”

“Again, you are definitely a city person. You should move out there. I’ll even help you find a place.”

“I know, but I love this town too much. And even if I wanted to leave, I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“I need to know what’s happening to this town. All the deaths, the terror the people are experiencing… I can’t just leave - I’d be leaving Minho behind, too.”

“You must really care about him,” Chan said almost too bitterly, though he figured you were tipsy enough to miss it.

“Yeah, I guess,” you joked. “Do you have a Minho in your life?”

Chan shook his head before downing the last of his glass. “Nah. I’m kind of a loner out in these parts.”

“Oh, that’s hot.” You were definitely drunk now. “Yikes, I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.”

“That’s enough wine for you,” he teased, taking the glass away from you.

“So you haven’t dated in a while and me and Minho are your closest friends. What a fulfilling life you live. Have you ever been in love before at least?”

He shook his head again, though he doesn’t seem too bothered by your question. “No. How about you?”

“Nope.”

“Really!?”

“Yes. Why are you surprised?”

“I don’t know, you seem like the type of person who’d be easy to fall in love with.”

“Really? I thought the exact opposite. I’m a sensitive workaholic who likes being alone most of the time.”

“That’s exactly why I think it’d be easy, but I don’t know, maybe that’s just my type.”

“You have an odd type, Mr. Chan.”

“I’m an odd person.”

The night was spent sitting at the table with Chan while you two got to know each other better. You got so caught up with your conversations that you completely forgot it was your job to figure out what his relation could be with all of the victims. Rather you leading the conversation, it was the opposite, where Chan got to know YOU a little bit more, and that was the last thing you wanted.

“Ah, I should head to bed now,” you said, shakily standing up from your chair.

“Do you need help getting upstairs?”

“Nah ~ I’ll be just fine -”

Before you could take your first steps towards the door, you felt your legs give out and Chan was there to catch you. How did he get to the other side of the table so quickly?

“You can barely stand on your own. Come on, I’ll take you up stairs.”

You didn’t bothering fighting it as you led the way to your room. The entire journey was spent with one of his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you stumbled over the littlest bumps in the carpet. Really, you were so adorable in Chan’s eyes.

“It was nice talking with you,” he said when you arrived at your door. “Why don’t I pick you up tomorrow so we can go to work together?”

“Y-Yeah yeah, sounds good, Mr. Detective,” you slurred.

Without permission, Chan began to fix your hair the same way he did last night, except this time he used both of his hands on each side of your face. You had never sobered up more quickly. He tucked your messy ends behind your ears and made sure more than just his finger tips grazed your neck. As a natural response, you tilted your head into one of his palms, like you liked being touched that way. You were practically inviting him in.

But no, it was too soon, though Chan had a hard time holding back his desires.

“Be careful, ok?” Chan warned, indicating he didn’t mean to just be careful on the way to your room. “I’d hate to have anything bad happen to you.”

You simply nodded, but it was too late for that. You were already in big trouble.

You’re not sure how much longer you can stay under cover.

Days melt into weeks and weeks turned into months as the investigation for this case didn’t seem like it was going to get solved anytime soon. Your team of three often stayed into the night and clocked in a lot of overtime hours just so you could move on as much as you could. But in this mile of a race, only centimeters had passed, but every bit of length counts. Within these last couple of months though, more bodies seemed to be piling in with the same wounds, which was the only relation these people had with each other.

Even when things with the investigation were moving slowly, you at least had some progress with Chan. The two of you walked to and from work every day and even on days when you were both off, you would hang out. But it was never over dinner or outside - it was always over red wine at one of your places, which was just fine with you. You loved wine and being as close to home as possible made everything easier, but also more dangerous. You just knew he was studying your place the same way you did the second night you met him.

Like any other mysterious and handsome man, he was just as suave and flirtatious and sometimes you had to stop yourself from falling for his charm, but he made it so hard for you to resist. There were too many times for you to count when he’d play with your hair or when his fingers went down the side of your neck or when you were so ready to jump his bones. Really, if you hadn’t been so suspicious of Chan, you’d dare to say he was your ideal type, but you had to draw the line somewhere, no matter how agonizing the sexual tension was.

As the days passed, you could feel yourself getting that much closer to solving this, and you weren’t about to ruin it over some stupid crush you had on him.

“I think we should assume vampire at this point,” Minho admitted defeatedly one afternoon.

“You can’t be serious,” Chan said.

“What other choice do we have? Actually, what other type of evidence do we have? Nothing!”

“I agree,” you chimed in, “We’ve tried everything. I tried to see if there was at least some type correlation between everyone in their files, but nothing.”

“So this is what it’s come down to? Vampire hunting?”

“... _____, what about their blood type? Any similarities?”

“Blood type?” None of you had thought of that one. Maybe Minho was onto something. When you pulled up all of their files and flipped through, you think for once that Minho wasn’t completely incompetent. “AB-, AB-, AB-... they’re all AB-, the rarest blood type.”

“Fuck yeah!” Minho cheered loudly. “We finally got a lead!”

“I didn’t know we had this many AB-s in our town.”

“They’re a vampire, I’m callin’ it.”

“Finally. Now that there’s a lead, I think we deserve a break,” Chan said, who was mostly quiet throughout the whole ordeal. “Dinner?”

“Nah, I’m good, I want to look into this more,” Minho said.

“I’ll go with you,” you said.

“Sounds good. Let me hit the bathroom first.”

You didn’t even want to look in Minho’s direction because you knew what he was going to lecture you about. At first, he thought your casual outings with your suspect were just ways for you to figure out what Chan’s deal was, but lately he’s been thinking they’re much more than just that.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. “I thought you didn’t like the guy!”

“I don’t!”

“Then why are you all buddy-buddy with him all of a sudden!?”

“Minho, it’s all part of the plan.”

“I don’t like it. I still don’t trust him. Did you see the way he reacted earlier with the blood lead? He just sat there! All stoic and mysterious! _____, what if he’s the vampire -”

“Ready to go?” Chan interrupted, causing Minho to almost fall off of your desk where he sat.

“Yup!” You gave Minho one last stern look before heading out.

This was all part of your plan, and Minho didn’t realize it just yet. Of course you suspected Chan to be the vampire, or at least an imitation of one. His porcelain skin, his gothic furniture, his natural attraction to your neck - very vampiric, if you said so yourself. No matter how silly the accusation was, you weren’t an idiot. If Minho and even some of the other townspeople were suspecting a vampire, then there had to be some truth to that, right? And who else would be a more perfect suspect than Detective Bang Chan? No one.

But if he was the one doing all of the bloodsucking, what were you to do…?

“What’s on your mind?” Chan asked, straying you from revising your plan.

“Just thinking about how we finally got a lead after all these months.”

“You don’t actually believe in this vampire stuff, do you?”

“I mean, if the evidence is there.”

“I don’t know, I still don’t buy it. I think we should look more into it. But we can discuss that with Minho later. For now, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Chan only heightened your suspicion of him being a vampire when he ended up taking his food to-go after claiming how hungry he was. His excuse was that he started not feel well, so you just left it at that and kept silent.

The second you got back, Minho jumped at you guys with an absurdly good idea.

“I think we should have a stakeout. Tonight.”

“What? Where would we even stay?” Chan asked. “_____ can’t even go with us, they’re a civilian.”

“So fucking what, Chan, we’re this much closer! _____ are you in or -”

“I’m in.”

“See!? So are you in or out?”

“... Fine, I’m in. But where would we stay?”

Minho points to the map that had all the pinpoints of where all the victims were found dead. A huge red circle was drawn around the majority of the pins.

“Seems like the vampire likes this area a lot. Woojin’s General Store is right in the middle of it. We’ll stay on the roof, I just got his approval.”

“I still don’t think this is a good idea. I don’t want to put _____ in danger.”

“I’d feel much better with them by my side than alone at home at the peak of this case.”

“Just by your side?” Chan accused, incredibly insulted.

“Can you both shut up? I’m going no matter what.”

Chan sighed, frustratedly running a hand through his cute and curly hair. “Fine. But you’re not leaving our sight at all.”

“We should probably get supplies at the General Store before we start.” You laughed at the way Minho rubbed his hands together excitedly like was an evil villain. “Are you guys ready to catch this son of a bitch!?”

“If we even see him,” you shrugged.

“If he even exists,” Chan said.

“You guys are just a load of fun, aren’t you?”

The entire time you three were at the General Store, it was like you and Chan were babysitting a child. Minho ran around the entire candy aisle excitedly throwing in bags of chips, sugary gummies, and bottles upon bottles of chilled coffee. Sometimes it was hard to believe Minho was a full-grown adult.

“I can’t believe we’re bringing a civilian out on a stakeout,” Chan muttered.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, yeah? Just like how you can watch your wine intake?”

“Hey, your wine’s just not the Barefoot brand I’m used to.”

A light chuckle escaped a worrying Chan. “I’m sorry if I’m being controlling. I just wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything bad ever happened to you.”

“I didn’t take you for a sweetheart, Detective.”

“Only for you.”

“I’m starting to get the feeling that you like me, Bang Chan,” you teased, though you hoped there was some truth to it.

And there was. “I do,” he told you.

Good. You had him locked in, just how you wanted.

“Are you guys done flirting?” Minho whined. “C’mon, it’s 8pm already!”

The first hour of staking out was settling in and getting all the supplies ready. Minho even went above and beyond and got ten heads of garlic.

“Here, take some,” he said, handing you and Chan a couple of them.

“No, thank you,” Chan said. “I don’t want to smell gross.”

“That’s not suspicious at all.”

By 11pm, all the stores closed, the town was silent, and now began the real scary part of the stakeout. Every noise, every movement of shadow caught all of your attention and it was like all of you were cats on alert. Something about tonight’s air was more haunting than it had ever been.

“If I see another goddamn raccoon running around, I’m gonna shoot it,” Minho said, preparing his gun.

“Don’t do that,” Chan scolded.

By the time 2am came around, neither of you could keep your eyes open, even after all the cups of coffee. From time to time, your head would bob from side to side because you were so tired and Chan would scoot closer to you so you could use his shoulder as a pillow while you took short naps. Chan ignored the dirty looks Minho would give him and to heighten his annoyance, he even dared to rest his head on top of yours. He could smell your shampoo - tea tree and aloe. It suited you.

“I can’t sit around anymore,” Minho said, causing you to wake up. “I’m going to walk around.”

“You can’t be serious,” you shrieked. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, you stay here with Chan.”

“Minho, please don’t leave,” you begged.

Minho smiled to calm your worrying form before he plants a small kiss on top of your head. “I’ll be right back. I promise. Look, I even made a garlic necklace!”

“Here, take this walk-e talk-e.” Chan tossed the toy over.

And with a wave goodbye, he was off the roof and heading to town square. This all felt surreal, like you were in some post apocalyptic dystopian world and that Minho was in grave danger. You knew that probably wasn’t the case, but something didn’t feel right.

Chan’s hand found its way to the small of your back while you were watching Minho run away.

Two hours passed and soon the sun would rise and all of this would finally be over until the next time, but Minho still hadn’t returned. He’d update you guys once in a while, but those updates stopped at around 3:30 and you were starting to get nervous.

“I’m gonna go look for him,” you said while grabbing some gear.

“_____, stop.”

“Chan, I can’t just sit here while he and that stupid doctor vampire thing are out there! Minho’s book smart, not street or vampire smart, he’s gonna get killed out there!”

Chan does the thing he always does and holds your face between his strong hands that would slowly, torturously travel down your neck until they reached your shoulders and every time you felt so calm, like he was wiping away any stress you had. He bent down a bit so you’d look him in the eyes in your panic state.

“How about this: I’ll go out and find him. You stay here with the other walk-e talk-e.”

You shook your head. “Let me go with you.”

“No, you have to stay here, ok? I can’t let anything happen to you.”

Your heart, mind, and body said no, but your mouth said, “Ok.”

Chan pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, too, as if he was competing with the one Minho gave you. “I’ll be right back, my love,” he teased.

In minutes, he was gone, and now you were all alone on the roof. You checked the time almost every minute because waiting for an update was excruciatingly painful.

“Oh, shit. Hello? Guys?” Minho called on the other end.

Your shaking hands picked up the toy. “Hey, it’s me. Where are you!? Chan’s out looking for you.”

“I’m behind the precinct. I was trying to save battery, but this is an emergency. I think someone’s following me -”

The call got cut off.

“Hello? Minho?” you called. Panic was rising at an uncontrollable rate. “Minho, answer me!”

No one answered. Something must have gotten him.

You needed to find him.

Leaving all of the snacks and equipment on the roof, you got down from the building and sprinted all the way to the precinct hoping that Minho or Chan or anyone would be there. But when you approached the building, all of the lights were off. Maybe he was still behind the building. The usually-thinning air of the town was getting harder to breathe in in your panic state.

Behind the precinct was Minho’s body on the floor.

“Hey...” you barely choked out.

You ran to his side and held him in your arms but almost dropped him because there was no way this could be him. Even with skin as pale as the white columns with hollowed-out cheek bones and dry, cracking lips, there was no mistaking that this was Minho.

Just as you suspected, there were two holes on the side of his neck with trickles of blood still falling from the wound. You thought for sure he was dead, but as your tears fell onto his cheeks, you saw his eyes twitch in response.

“Minho, wake up,” you begged. “Wake up, wake up! You’re going to be ok, goddammit!! I-I’m going to take you to a hospital and soon you’ll be all better, and -”

“_-_____...”

Shakily, you leaned forward so you could hear him better.

“Run.”

Minho fell limp.

“Chan!” You sobbed to the sky. “Chan!!!”

A figured stepped out from the shadows behind the trees from where they watched the scene unfold exactly how it was written.

Assuming the figure was Chan, your sobs calling out to him got louder.

“Chan! We-We have to go get Mi-Minho to the hospital! Please, help me, I -”

You stopped yourself when you looked up at the towering thing above you. Chan’s amused expression hid in its own shadow and the only thing you could see was his bloody irises peaking through with a light of their own. And as if your greatest fear had come true, he bent down to your level and looked right at you.

“It’s a shame, really,” Chan began. “He would have had a fulfilling life if he just left you alone. If only he hadn’t loved you, too.”

It was clear that you wouldn’t - couldn’t - move, so Chan took it upon himself to help you. Chuckling menacingly, he untangled your latching arms from Minho’s decaying body and pulled you up from the floor and brought you close to his body. Even if you were able to run away, he’d still make sure that you wouldn’t be able to by holding your waist so desperately that his nails began to hurt.

“Mm, now I have you all to myself,” he sang, burying his face to the crook of your neck. You felt light kisses being pressed onto your hypersensitive skin, causing soft, weak moans to escape your lips.

You were losing all sense of self at this point. All of your sense were in overdrive and it was like you were high.

“You know, I came to this town thinking I’d just be passing through, drinking whatever AB- blood there was to offer in this shit town, and then return to the city. Do you know why I ended up staying?”

You didn’t answer.

“Because the second I saw you walking the streets on your way to the news station, I knew had to have you. I could smell your blood all the way from across the street... I needed it so, so badly. So I moved into the conveniently vacant space below you. The rest is history, isn’t it? Mm, you’re so beautiful, you know? And you taste as good as you smell...”

His lips crashed down on yours with urgency, unable to hold himself back any longer. He teased you by biting your lip and laughed into the kiss knowing you were terrified of him tasting your AB- blood.

With your face still cupped in his hands, he continued on. Even with terrifyingly red eyes, they were still capable of showing remorse, and for a second you almost fell for it. “You know I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, right?”

Of course you knew that - he told you practically every day.

“Say you know,” he demanded.

“I-I know,” you stuttered.

“I would never drink your blood, you know that, right? I can’t lose you...”

You could only nod.

“Come with me,” he begged. “We’ll leave this place and never come back. No one will find us. No one will think we did this and I’ll take really good care of you, I promise. Just come with me.”

“Chan, I -”

“I’ve lived for nearly a thousand years. A thousand. And I’ve never needed anyone more than you.”

He had to have been lying and you knew it, too, but as if you were caught in a spell, you began to believe his every word and contemplate about life afterwards if you rejected his offer. Either he’d drink you up and kill you or he’d stay true to his word and not lay a finger on you, but if you stayed, everyone in town would assume you were the vampire wiping out the whole town.

So did you even have a choice?

“Will you come with me?” he asked once more.

“Yes,” you said without hesitation.

His sharp teeth were shining as he grinned widely. He pressed a more tender, loving kiss on your lips and you felt like you could fly.

Bang Chan was unreal.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

You said nothing.

[lins-fandom-hub]

Music Locked Away (Barnaby Lee X OC MC)

(I’m gonna try my hand at a one-shot on Tumblr--it won’t be perfect, but I’ll give it my best shot. This would be based off of my OC on Hogwarts Mystery and some personal experience.)

Since I brought it up to Professor McGonagall one day that I could play the piano, she thought it fit for me to have access to a room that not many students know about--a piano room on the seventh floor of the castle, housing a polished black grand piano that I could only imagine playing on since I started learning the instrument at home. The sight of the instrument made me want to cry for joy when I first saw it--it was as if she unlocked before me a part of home I thought I’d left behind. Ever since Jacob’s disappearance, I have taken it upon myself to work hours a day in front of the black and white keys, losing myself in the tunes of famous classical composers that soothed me and rooted me to reality. Soon, music became such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t imagine a day without it.

Of course, only a few of my friends know of my musical talents. I would admit that I wasn’t the best, and that was why I kept this fact in the dark as we searched for the Cursed Vaults. Locating all these Cursed Vaults felt rewarding, I would admit, but with every year that passed, I felt like my efforts were fruitless and all for naught. The longer the search went on for my brother, the farther I felt he was drifting from me. The piano was the only way I could keep my problems at bay, and imagine, even if for a moment, that he was still at home.

One night following the stressful O.W.L.s, I was in the piano room, playing on the piano as usual with my results paper sitting right by the stand. My fingers were on autopilot tonight as they glided gracefully over the piano, playing a waltz I knew only too well. I was so engrossed in the music, admittedly, that I didn’t notice the door opening and closing as someone came in.

It wasn’t until I finished when I saw him, a small smile playing on his face.

“I had no idea you were a pianist, Clara.”

I watched as Barnaby crossed the room, his eyes trained on the piano before he sat beside me on the piano bench. Under typical circumstances, I would have been glad to see him--after all, he was one of my closest friends. But tonight, I felt a little self-conscious. How much of my music did he hear?

“How did you--how did you find me here?” I asked him carefully.

Barnaby shrugged in response. “Luck, I guess. I heard the piano music while I was getting out of a tutor session in Charms with Rowan, so I thought I’d check it out.” He also pointed to the keyhole at the door. “I didn’t even have to look twice in there to recognize you.”

Oh. I felt a strange heat blossom over my cheeks when he said this, and shuffled my feet a bit on the ground, the soles of my shoes lightly brushing over the pedals. “I see.”

It didn’t help that he was sitting so close to me. The lingering scent of sandalwood and fresh laundry wafted through the space between us--a scent I got so familiar with from the many times I burrowed my face into the grey sweater he gifted me so long ago. Since we became friends in third year, I was quick to recognize his strength and power, but one thing that really stood out to me was his protectiveness. His willingness to take the blows that were meant for me, to sacrifice himself so I would be safe...no one had ever done this for me. I was so touched by it that eventually, I started to develop a crush on him.

Of course, only a few of my friends really knew about that as well.

“How long have you played?” he asked me then.

I shrugged in response. I didn’t really feel ready to talk about this openly with anyone--not even with the boy I trusted so much. “Well...I started when I was little,” I eventually started. “I always loved letting loose at the piano. It was one way I could let go of all my problems in life. Jacob used to make fun of me every time I made a mistake, but all in good fun.” I removed my hands from the keys, but I couldn’t find it in me to look at Barnaby.

“He used to tease me about my inclination with music, but he didn’t mind it. In fact, he enjoyed hearing me play as much as I enjoyed actually playing the piano,” I said. “It got harder when he left, though. After his expulsion, when he disappeared...everything just felt emptier without him around. The music...” I gestured to the piano weakly. “It felt like it lost its life.”

For a moment, Barnaby remained silent, only nodding as he heard me explain the story behind the music. Then he asked, “So why do you keep playing?”

“Because to me, music holds a sort of transcendental value. It brings emotion to all of us, even when we don’t feel it. But it also reminds me of the times Jacob used to be around. He’d tease me, yeah, but we bonded over it,” I murmured. 

What I didn’t expect then was for Barnaby to move away from the bench. “Can you play something for me?”

This was normally the part where I would say no. I didn’t really want to showcase this part of me--this vulnerable part of me--to the world, and especially not to him. After seeing how I could win every duel and brave through every adventure with the Cursed Vaults, the last thing I wanted was for everyone to know that I cried over my brother through the piano. But I couldn’t resist Barnaby’s puppy eyes. Admittedly, they were the only thing I couldn’t say no to.

So I nodded, choosing a rather touching piece my brother really enjoyed--a Chopin nocturne.

The melancholic melody rang through the keys, my fingers acting on their own accord as I recalled the song my brother loved so much. Memories soon sprang to the forefront of my mind--the time he taunted me with a Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum while I was trying to perfect this piece, blowing bubbles so big he’d pop them obnoxiously once in a while; all the times he sang the melody in a high falsetto making me laugh...so many memories, not as fond at the time, but so sweet now, and almost completely forgotten with his disappearance. Deep breaths entered my body as I played, oblivious to Barnaby standing there watching me curiously, a look of concentration and interest graced over his face. When at long last the final note sounded through the room, I glanced up at him, eyebrows slightly raised, only to see tears brimming in his emerald eyes.

“That was...” He wiped his tears quickly with his fingers and went over to me, hugging me so suddenly it would have knocked me off my feet had I been standing. Instead, I just hugged him back, admittedly a little stunned.

“Not horrible?” I asked, chuckling slightly.

Barnaby chuckled as well, shaking his head. “It was beautiful. I’m sure your brother would have loved it so much.”

I only nodded again as I held him tighter, the scent and his aura calming me. A few tears leaked from my own eyes as well, but for once, I felt glad someone was there to hear the music I’ve kept locked away for so long.

Some time in the near future, Jacob would come back and tease me again about my music. But for now, I would continue to work hard so that one day, he would hear it and love it too--as much as Barnaby said he would have.

This was literally written while I have a major block--I kind of knew what I was going to write but it didn’t really turn out the way I planned it. I’m sure a lot of us can relate to that.

But oh well--this is my first written work on Tumblr!

I have more stories on my Wattpad--you can follow me there (-fromthehallows is my username) to see more of my stories. I write a lot of fanfictions, mostly, from HPHM to Miraculous Ladybug to Big Hero 6 and The Hunger Games. Not sure if I’m ever going to write something original, but we’ll see.

Anyway, that’s all from me for now. I’m gonna sign off before this gets too long.

[disruptedvice]

Board games and black outs (b99 fic)

Just a fun little Peraltiago one shot

Summary: After the power goes out during a storm, Amy suggests playing a board game. Unfortunately, she only has children’s board games in her storage closet for when her nieces and nephews come over to play. Jake suggests they make things interesting.

AO3 link

____________________ 

Board games and black outs ____________________

Jake made it through approximately ten minutes before complaining about the power outage. One would think that even though the power was out, he’d still be able to use his cell phone to entertain himself as long as he had charged it (even if he hadn’t- you think Amy Santiago doesn’t have a portable battery for exactly this type of mobile disaster?)

But the same storm that knocked out the power (and thus the wifi) was also interfering with however 3g actually worked, so his phone officially had no signal (well, he could still make calls, he just had zero access to the internet, which was like the whole point of having a smart phone- who made calls these days anyway?).

Honestly, she was kinda impressed with ten minutes. She’d thought he’d only make it five.

“Amy! I’m bored!” Jake shouted from the couch when he met his limitations of distracting himself without the aide of technology. “What did people do before electronics! I mean people who hate books. What did they do before the radio was invented? What did people who hated reading do during a storm before electricity became a thing?”

“I have a few board games in the hall closet,” She called back helpfully from her bedroom where she had curled up to, of course, read a book after the power went out.

At first there was nothing but silence, then the sound of his footsteps pattering down the hall and the unmistakably squeaky sound of the closet door opening. There was more silence while he presumably looked over his options, then:

“Amy! Why do you only have board games like Candy Land and Sorry?!”

She rolled her eyes, reaching over and grabbing her bookmark to save her place before getting up. She knew she was going to end up playing something with him when she suggested games. The book she was reading was a bust anyway.

(She was still going to finish it though, because she couldn’t stand not finishing a book once she started it- but procrastinating reading a novel that she didn’t really care for- she definitely had time for that)

“Hey, I have all the kid’s games for when the nieces and nephews come to visit,” she said, defending her board game selection as she sauntered out to him in the hall. “I actually like reading when the power goes out,” Amy told him with a smirk. Jake grimaced, opening the closet door wider for her to look over all the options too (though they were her games in her closet).

“Screw it,” he decided, taking one of the board games for ages 3+ to play with his adult girlfriend during this torrential rain storm blackout. ____________________

“We’re making this interesting,” Jake said, slapping a 20 dollar bill on the floor after they had set up the board and all its pieces. He was still a bit pouty, but he figured a little wager might make this a bit more fun.

Amy gave him a pointed look at his proposition.

“It’s against the law to gamble.”

“Ames, betting 20 dollars on a game of Candy Land in your living room is hardly a crime. I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Amy thought for a moment, but she had a much better idea. “We could strip instead. Lose clothes instead of money.”

“Seriously?” He gave her the most I’m so done incredulous look. “Seriously? You think strip Candy Land is less morally questionable than gambling Candy Land?”

“No,” she informed him slowly, a sly smirk spreading across her face. “I think strip Candy Land is less boring than gambling Candy Land.”

Jake laughed. “You know, I think you might be right.” Now that that was settled, Jake cracked his knuckles, getting ready for a serious game of Candy Land. “Wait, are you wearing a bra right now? That’s an unfair advantage. That’d be four layers for you and three for me. And how do we even make this game strippable?”

“With only two players, each match will be over pretty quickly,” Amy said as she reached under her shirt, undoing her bra behind her back before sliding the straps down her arms and then pulling her bra out from under her shirt in an incredibly fluid motion. Then she just tossed it behind her onto the couch without missing a beat.

Obviously girls wore bras pretty much their whole lives, and that’s why guys sucked at taking them off most of the time, but it always kinda amazed him how fast she could do it. Amy was making up directions to a game and telling him all the rules and taking her bra off without removing her shirt with no hassle whatsoever, like she had it down to a science. Yup. Girls got taking off their bras down to a science.

She continued with her explanation, not even noticing how impressed he was by that move of hers. “And loser of a match takes off one article of clothing and then the next round starts. The first one to get naked ends the game, and the other person is the winner.”

“You know, you could’ve just kept your bra on and tossed the top,” Jake told her with a completely undeserved amount of cockiness. “You’re gonna be losing it anyway.”

“Are you trying to trash talk me over a game of Candy Land?” Amy couldn’t say she was surprised. “When was the last time you even played this game? Cause I played it two weeks ago. It’s my niece’s favorite game. I’ve got a whole lot of experience with it. And the only time I lose is because I let her win. Because she’s a child. You’re not getting off that easy, Jake. I’m gonna mop the floor with all the… clothes you’ll be losing?” The last part came out as a question, Amy squinting and tilting her head as the words came out of her mouth, because man, that really fell apart on her at the end, didn’t it? She shook her head, starting again for a quick recovery. “I’m gonna win. I’m gonna beat you. Your clothes will be on the ground, and I’ll still be wearing all mine because I’m gonna win. You can mop the floor with your own damn clothes.”

“I see you still suck just as much as always at trash talking,” Jake teased. “Good to know some things never change.”

Amy just stuck her tongue out at him in response, and Jake stuck his tongue back out at her because of course they did. Immature and childish antics was exactly the kind of thing these two full grown adults did whenever playing a children’s game. What did you expect? ____________________

They got down to business after they got all the taunting out of their system.

Jake lost the first round and sacrificed his shirt (still getting in the swing of the best strategy). Amy lost the next one and took of her pants, which wasn’t as exciting as one would think when they’d been dating for a year and she still had her shirt and underwear on, so pants were pretty inconsequential.

The third match had a lot of questions of cheating. A lot of unfounded accusations that were completely uncalled for, and they both had to apologize to each other when they realized they couldn’t even think of a possible way the other could have cheated.

And with gameplay this simple it really was a game of chance. Jake won the fourth round (the third one had been declared a draw obviously), and Amy unceremoniously slipped off her underwear and that too went the way of her pants and bra. And Jake realized they really should have stipulated that the winner got to chose which article of clothing the loser had to remove. Because that move was just cruel, and she knew it too.

She had the most in your face rubbing it in smirk on in the world, clearly very pleased with herself. She knew he was expecting to see some boobs. But no. She only had two articles of clothing left to remove, and she didn’t take off her shirt.

Nope. Instead he got an Amy Santiago sitting bare assed on the floor while they played strip Candy Land while she was still wearing her fucking shirt. So unfair.

Not that that was a bad view or anything. It’s just… boobs.

Jake was determined to get her to take that damn shirt off. ____________________

So, of course, he lost the next round. And the next one. After he shucked off his boxers the game was officially concluded with Jake Peralta as the naked loser.

“Loser gets to clean up!” Amy declared as she stood up herself. Apparently leaving it to him to pick up the pieces, cards, and game board all by himself. It wasn’t like Candy Land was particularly hard to clean up; he still found himself pouting when she started walking away. (Though the view of her backside and ass swaying with her hips was enough to make him appreciate the fact that she still had her shirt on)

“Where are you going?” He called out after her, still wrapping the rubber band back around the draw deck of cards.

“Bedroom,” Amy answered back, and he remembered. Oh. Her book. She was going to go back to reading because she was one of those people who was actually entertained by books in a black out. Somehow, strip Candy Land wasn’t going to end in adult fun times. Oh.

“Hey Jake?” Amy paused in the entrance of the hallway, turning back to him with a look that could only be described as inviting..

“What?”

“You know, if we blow out the candles it’ll be pitch black,” Amy said with a wicked smile. “So what do you say? You wanna have sex in the dark?”

“I’m coming!”

[sapphicscholar]

The much-requested follow up to the Craigslist Girlfriend Chapter 141! It's all crack and fluff with just a moment or two of discussion about Maggie's past with her family. As my girlfriend put it, "it's too fucking cute." Enjoy!

A/N: Because sometimes I think holidays and a lot of holiday episodes of shows or chapters of fanfic hype up the idea of coming out, just as a reminder, if it isn't safe for you to come out or you aren't ready to deal with questions, you're more than okay not coming out, and you certainly don't have to do it on a day with a ton of other stressors already happening just because it's a "convenient" time when the whole family might already be around. It's a personal choice, not one that society or other people (even family and close friends) get to make for you. And if you have the choice and don't want to spend today with biological family, that's okay too! Do what's best for you personally, and sometimes that means binge-watching shitty TV and eating takeout and ice cream with chosen family.

Chapter Text:

“Did you know about her real job?” Alex demanded, cornering Lucy and pushing her up against a wall.

“Ya know, I’ve had dreams about this exact situation, Agent Danvers,” Lucy taunted, biting at her lower lip and throwing a lewd wink in Alex’s direction.

“I’m being serious. She said you interrogated her with Vasquez. Did you two know?”

“Um, kind of? Not quite. We knew that she wasn’t quite the scumbag she advertised herself as.”

“And how did you find that out?”

“We had her produce all of her old arrest documents and tax returns.”

Alex continued to eye Lucy suspiciously. “They could have been fakes.”

“No, Vasquez brought a computer system and finger print scanner. We knew the stuff was hers, but we let her cover up her last name and all—very generous of us.”

“And so she also covered up everything that identified her prints as belonging to a cop?”

“I guess.” Lucy shrugged, ducking out from under Alex’s arm the moment she relaxed slightly. Now a few feet away from immediate bodily harm, Lucy grinned over at her interrogator. “Now that you know she’s a cop, that change anything? Suddenly noticing how hot she is?”

Scowling, Alex scoffed and shook her head. “She’s still weird enough to lie about herself online.”

“And you’ve never lied online?” Lucy interjected, shooting Alex a disbelieving look.

“Not like that! And I certainly never volunteered to crash Thanksgiving with a bunch of random people!”

“You could have cancelled on her, but you didn’t…” Lucy trailed off, letting the meaning of her words sink in. “I’m just saying, maybe you don’t have that much room to judge.”

“Whatever.” Alex turned back to the two-way mirror, looking in at Maggie, who sat surrounded by large stacks of paperwork all marked up with sticky tabs indicating where she needed to sign, date, and initial. Seeing her look so small at the large table, Alex felt a pang of guilt. After all, the woman was stuck spending a holiday alone with paperwork when the only thing her ad had made clear was that she wanted a hot meal spent with other people, even if she wasn’t quite being honest about whom she was.

With a deep breath, Alex pushed open the door. “I come bearing pie.”

“My savior,” Maggie teased, though her stomach chose that moment to let out a loud growl.

“Yes, well, I suppose you were right about having been promised a meal. And I’m not one to back out of a promise.”

“You did stick with me, even once you met Gertie…”

Alex let out a small snort of laughter but nodded, sinking down into the chair opposite Maggie. “You know, when I was little, I used to beg my parents for a dog.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I put together whole presentations about why we should get one. They taught responsibility, encouraged physical activity, increased their owners happiness and longevity.” Maggie bit back a smile, imagining a shrunken down version of the woman sitting in front of her presenting whole stacks of research to her parents. “They insisted we didn’t have enough time to be responsible dog owners. In retrospect…yeah, okay, probably fair. But I had everything planned.”

“That’s really sweet, Danvers.”

Alex shrugged. “Point is, I decided about that time that we would name her Gertrude.”

“That’s, uh, quite the name.”

“You named your truck Gertie.”

“I suppose I did…guess it’s just the universe telling us how perfect we are together,” Maggie teased, though she had to admit, spending the day with Alex was much more fun than she had expected. She felt like she knew her better than a few of the women she’d actually dated in recent memory.

“Ah yes, such a sweet talker. For that I’m taking away your pie.”

“Hey!” Maggie protested, holding out her hands and making a gimme motion.

“Nope. When you’re done—if you’re good.”

“Mmm, now that doesn’t sound as platonic as the ad said.” When Alex’s cheeks colored, Maggie grinned triumphantly. “So what else do I get if I’m good?”

“Both kinds of pie,” Alex deadpanned.

“And if I don’t behave?”

Alex rolled her eyes. “You get thrown into a cell until you do.”

“Kinky.”

“Fuck off.”

“If it means I don’t have to do paperwork anymore…”

Eyeing the large stacks, Alex began flipping through them. “First of all, you’re close to done. Second of all, you’re moving slowly.”

“I’m reading the fine print! I don’t sign something not knowing what it says.”

“What if I tell you—help speed this process up?”

“You won’t lie?”

“We’re on camera if I do.”

“And? I know what happens when tapes get lost.”

“You have my word, alright?” Alex didn’t mention that she also had knowledge that Alex had threatened to kill over on more than one occasion, but Maggie seemed to understand that fact.

“Fine.” So Maggie sat back and began initialing and signing more quickly as Alex sped through the information they contained, reducing 400-page documents to a single sentence: “If you out Kara, the DEO will try to lock you up, but they’ll never find your body because I will have come for you first.”

“Says that in the packet, does it?”

“No, I’m giving you the honest version.”

There was something in the steely glint to Alex’s gaze that told Maggie not to push it—not that she ever had any intention of outing Supergirl anyway. She had enough alien friends and experience with forcible outings to know better. “I would expect nothing less.”

“Good.” And she genuinely believed Maggie for some reason.

Eventually they made it through the large stack, finishing much faster than Maggie ever would have if left on her own. “Well, you’re a free woman now, Maggie Sawyer.”

“I believe I was promised pie when I finished my assignment.”

“Mm, that you were…” Thinking back on it, Alex would never know what led her to suggest it—whether it was the knowledge that Maggie had stood up for her to her mother and, hell, to her own voice of self doubt, or if it was just the fresh memory of the delightful way she’d been such a dick to Mike, or maybe the reminder of Lucy’s words about just how cute the woman was—but Alex took a deep breath and turned to Maggie. “My mom dropped off the leftovers at my apartment, and I’ve even got a bottle of scotch there that I bet pairs well with chocolate pecan pie.”

Tilting her head to the side, Maggie tried to find some hint of sarcasm or a prank to get back at her for lying about her occupation. But Alex looked somewhat earnest, and, maybe Maggie was just projecting, but she almost seemed flirty. “You and me?”

“What? Yeah, I mean, I just, neither of us have anywhere else to go today. Though we could, you know, keep each other company.”

“Yeah—yeah, alright.” Even if she was fairly certain it was only her imagination making Alex’s offer sound distinctly sexual in nature, she was down for pie, scotch, and good company.

---

“You asshole, you were gonna let me break my hand punching an alien in the face?” Maggie cackled, the second or third glass of whiskey having loosened them both up. As she tucked her legs up underneath her on the sofa, she found herself feeling beyond grateful for the sweatpants Alex had let her borrow, even if they were a bit long.

“You’re the one that offered to punch him. I just didn’t say no,” Alex pointed out, snorting as Maggie yelled, “Semantic, Danvers! Semantics!”

Finally pulling herself up off the couch, Alex traipsed over to the kitchen where her mom had stored the leftovers. They probably should have started with food; maybe she wouldn’t be feeling the scotch quite as much as she was if they had. “What do you want?”

You, Maggie thought, shaking her head to get rid of that distinctly dangerous thought. “What are you offering?” she called back instead, thinking flirty suggestions were still better than outright propositions.

“There’s turkey, mashed potatoes—damn, Kara’s gonna be pissed when she finds out mom didn’t leave all of them for her—um, cheesecake, chocolate pecan pie, and some kind of cookie.”

“I was told that the pecan pie was the best in the galaxy—and now that I know that wasn’t an exaggeration…”

“Ugh,” Alex groaned, though she still cut a generous portion and dropped it onto a plate, grabbing a slice of cheesecake for herself. She topped off both of their glasses before settling back down on the couch a bit closer to Maggie than she had been before.

“Cheesecake, really? You gonna tell me you always dreamed of being on the Golden Girls?”

“What?”

“The Golden Girls—the show.” Alex continued to look at her in confusion. “C’mon, Rose, Sophia, Blanche, and Dorothy? Four old ladies living together, kickin it old school down in Florida. Really? Never seen it?”

“Why would I have voluntarily watched a show about senior citizens?”

“Because it was amazing. Duh.”

“Mhm, sureeee.”

“I’m serious! First of all”—Maggie held up her index finger, balancing her plate precariously on her knee—“it was so fucking progressive for its time. Second of all, it was all ladies as the main cast. Third, it’s fucking hilarious.” When Alex still looked unimpressed, Maggie waved a hand dismissively at her. “Whatever, you’re such a Dorothy.”

“What does that mean?”

“Guess you’ll have to watch the show to find out.” Maggie stuck her tongue out at her, not caring how childish it seemed.

“You’re the worst.”

“Nope, can’t be true. Cause I’m also the best.”

“How do you figure that?”

“It’s what all my ex-girlfriends said in bed,” Maggie teased, arching an eyebrow, challenging Alex to respond.

“Mm, find me a girlfriend who’s still your girlfriend to say it, then we’ll talk.”

Biting her tongue, Maggie managed to avoid offering to prove it right then and there. “If I had a girlfriend right now, you would’ve been out a fabulous fake date for the day.”

“There is that.”

“And if I hadn’t been your fake date, you wouldn’t be having this amazing night of tipsy fun right now.”

“I probably would have been tipsy.”

“Yeah, but c’mon, being tipsy with me is like, a bajillion times better.” As if to emphasize her point, Maggie topped off their glasses again, thinking that she should probably call it quits after that—no need to be completely hungover tomorrow, especially when she was sure to get called in for all sorts of Black Friday spats.

“Maybe.”

“Totally. It feels like—like back when you were younger, and at a sleepover, and it was beyond late, and everyone was just a little delirious, but it was so much fun. Like—that time of night when anything could happen ’cause all the grownups were asleep, and it was like you and your friends ruled the world.” She tried not to dwell on how she’d lost several years of those kinds of nights after everything with Eliza—too scared to let herself get close to any of her friends again, too jaded and bitter.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Maggie noticed the faraway look in Alex’s eyes. “So who was she?”

“Who?”

“The girl.”

“What girl?”

“C’mon, the one you used to have sleepovers with and spend all of your time together with—best friend-level status—but when you came out you realized that not everyone also wants to hold their best friend’s hand and snuggle and spend the rest of their lives together and maybe kiss each other.”

Eventually Alex relented, sighing, “Vicky Donahue.” Maggie patted Alex’s shoulder softly. “What about you?”

“Oh, uh,” Maggie stammered; she hadn’t thought this all the way through. “Um, Eliza—Eliza Wilkie. I don’t—I don’t really wanna talk about it, though.”

Sensing the abrupt shift in mood, Alex turned to Maggie, a grin playing about her lips. “Alright, well, fuck them—except, I guess, probably don’t.” Maggie snorted at that. “We still deserve fun sleepovers, just cause we missed out on some of them.”

Wondering if Alex had had something similar happen, or if it was more that all too common story—the fights that seemed to erupt with no explanation, the dissolution of long friendships when the other one suddenly found a boy to occupy her time—Maggie shrugged. “What do you propose?”

“Well you’re too fucked up to drive, that’s for sure.” Maggie nodded in acknowledgment; she hadn’t been planning on driving Gertie home that night. “So eating absurd amounts of dessert and playing stupid slumber party games?” Alex wasn’t entirely sure why she wasn’t ready for the night to end just yet, but Maggie was fun and, she thought, feeling a bit wistful, she hadn’t gotten to have much fun in a while. Sure, Lucy was great, but more and more she spent her time out at the desert base and her weekends with Vasquez. And Alex was happy for them—of course she was—but she couldn’t help but feel a little…lonely, and Maggie seemed like just the way to add some much needed fun back into her life. The whole day was absurd. Why not make it even more so? And then they never needed to see each other again.

“So, what, truth or dare?” Maggie laughed, but Alex just shrugged.

“Alright. Unless you’d rather I straighten your hair…”

“Truth or Dare, Danvers.”

“Dare.”

“Damn…jumping right in there with a dare.” Maggie paused; she’d forgotten how hard it was to come up with good dares, and the alcohol gave her plenty of ideas, but she doubted that any of them were useful. “Uh, I dare you to prank call Mike.”

“He knows my number.”

“You can use my phone. And god, Alex, you block the number, duh.”

Rolling her eyes, Alex accepted the proffered phone, dialing *67, then plugging in Mike’s number. It wasn’t until he picked up that she realized she hadn’t planned anything, and she definitely hadn’t prank called anyone in many, many years. “Um, is your refrigerator running?” Alex asked, fumbling for words as Maggie bit down on her hand to keep from laughing.

“What?” he asked. “Do I know you?”

Panicking, Alex tried to deepen her voice and yelled into the phone, “No! You’re dumb, and I hate you! Bye!”

As soon as she hung up, Maggie howled in laughter. “That was the worst prank call I’ve ever seen in my life.” She wiped away the tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Whatever,” Alex huffed. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Why the hell do you advertise on Craigslist for Thanksgiving? Honestly.”

“I used to work the holiday every year, but the kinds of calls you get on holidays—god, there’s only so much you can take of them. This is a way to get a free meal and not have to deal with a reminder that I’m alone, that my own family would rather have an empty seat at the table than see me—all because if I ever brought a date, she’d be a woman.”

“Fuck, Maggie, I—that sucks.”

“It’s been a long time. I’m used to it. The holidays just—it’s nice to have a kind of absurd distraction, see how fucked up other people’s families are too.”

“Yeah? Got any weird stories?” Alex asked, hoping to bring Maggie’s attention away from the past.

“I should make you wait for the next truth, but…I’m feeling generous. Hmm, last year I went with a dude whose whole family was military—really strict. He was an artist, and nothing he did was ever right. I guess they were on his case about bringing a date, and so he figured he’d give them a big fuck you, so I came in there with my “Fuck Bush” t-shirt and talked about getting arrested for protesting the military.” Alex looked rather impressed. “We were asked to leave before dinner was even over, but I snagged a whole pie and a bottle of wine on the way out.”

“So have you ever made it through a full meal?”

“Once or twice. The time I proposed—well that one went almost 7 hours! They needed to know all about me.”

“Have you seen that person since?”

“Nope.” Fixing Alex with a hard stare, Maggie tried to keep a serious face, even as she popped another bite of pie into her mouth. “Your turn. Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Hm…last significant relationship?”

“Uh…god, I don’t know. I tried dating some dude for a bit in college, but that obviously didn’t work out too well—my being a big flaming homo who just hadn’t admitted it yet.”

“Mm, that does put a damper on things.”

“Then grad school and work kept me too busy to do more than a few casual dates now and then.”

“Makes sense.” Maggie didn’t really see who wouldn’t be willing to put up with slightly crazy work hours for a woman as gorgeous and funny as Alex, but then again, women sure hadn’t been willing to stick around for her.

“Truth or dare.”

“Hmm, truth I guess.”

“Worst first date.”

Maggie thought for a moment. “Hmm…back in college I took this girl to see a scary movie—she’d said that she really liked them too. As it turns out, she hated them. By the ten minute mark, she was already crying, and when we left she yelled at me. Apparently I should have realized that she was lying.”

“That sounds…dreadful,” Alex snorted. “If you ever want someone better to go see a horror movie with, I’m your girl.”

Maggie hated the way her stomach flipped at the idea of Alex being her girl. “Is that so?”

“Kara sure as hell won’t go with me.”

“Let me guess: she prefers romcoms where some douche-bro has a nice little redemption arc.”

“Just the ones.”

“Figures.” A beat. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” Alex answered.

“Hmm…hold old were you when you lost your virginity? Even if it’s a social construct,” Maggie added.

“Twenty. You?”

“I guess we can call this my next turn—18. So now you go again.”

“Uh, dare, I guess.”

Maggie tried to think of something. “Uh, show me any tattoos you have?”

“Don’t have any. Truth or dare.”

“Ugh, you suck. Um, truth.”

“One of these days, you’ll have to choose dare.” Maggie just shrugged; she would…eventually. “Most embarrassing moment.”

“In thirty years, Danvers? Dear god, how do I choose just one?”

“Okay, just in college.”

“Ooh, it’s a toss up.”

“Between?”

“Got caught a little, uh, less than dressed in the library. And accidentally sent something to a professor that was very much not meant for a professor.”

“How did you do that?”

“A couple of shots and too many documents saved on my desktop with less than descriptive file names.”

“Ugh, you’re one of those people?”

“Not anymore,” Maggie laughed. “Alright, your turn: truth or dare.”

“I guess truth.”

“Celebrity crush.”

“Oh but there are so many…”

“Pick one!”

“Um, oh god, what’s her name?” It was on the tip of her tongue, but the scotch was making her thoughts a little fuzzy around the edges, and Maggie’s hand that had somehow made its way to her knee wasn’t helping. “Um, she played Wonder Woman?”

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s hot. Totally get it.”

“Yeah, anyway, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

Alex cackled gleefully before suddenly pausing. “Um…huh, this is harder than I remember.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well back with friends we’d do stupid shit, like make each other dress up in ridiculous outfits or go streaking down the block.”

“You want me to go run a lap around the floor of your apartment building in the nude?” Maggie teased.

“Wha—what? No!” Forcing herself to laugh, Alex tried to drive away thoughts of what Maggie might look like naked, hoping the other woman hadn’t noticed the way her gaze had dropped, though her smirk seemed to suggest that she had definitely noticed.

“So if not that, then what’ll it be, Danvers? What do you want me to do?” She definitely didn’t imagine the slightly strangled noise Alex let out at that particular phrasing.

Trying to think of the least sexual thing she could, Alex suggested, “Let me give you an absurd hairstyle, then you have to snapchat a selfie with it.”

“Deal. Maggie turned around so that her back was to Alex and pulled her hair tie out, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. It wasn’t until Alex was up on her knees, her fingers raking through her hair, that Maggie realized she hadn’t quite thought this through, hadn’t quite realized just how sensual it could feel to have Alex touching her, even if it was to give her an absolutely hideous new look.

Running her fingers through Maggie’s hair, Alex tried to ignore the small shiver that ran through the smaller woman’s frame, tried to convince herself that she imagined the small moan of contentment. Instead she focused on giving Maggie the closest approximation to Cindy Lou Who’s hairstyle she could come up with.

By the time she finished, Maggie nearly fell off the couch in her rush to get away from Alex’s hands, from the heat of her body, from the chance that she would do something stupid like turn around and kiss her frustratingly kissable lips. Luckily catching sight of her new do was enough to completely distract from the situation at hand. “Oh my god,” she cackled. “What is this?”

“You like? Maybe I should contemplate a career change.”

“Oh for sure. Totally worth the risk.” Alex laughed and shook her head, finishing off her cheesecake while Maggie sent the photo around to a few of her closest friends.

Over the course of a few more rounds, Alex talked about her gay awakening and was given 60 seconds to pull together the most ridiculous outfit she could find—returning in as much neon as Kara had left in her closet over the years as she could gather in the allotted time—and Maggie was forced to eat some hideous concoction of the first three ingredients she touched in Alex’s fridge with her eyes covered.

Once she was done rinsing her mouth out for what felt like a thousandth time, Maggie turned back to Alex. “Truth or dare?”

“Um, truth.”

“Hmm…got a crush on anyone at the moment?” Maggie hoped it sounded innocuous enough, like it could totally just be one friend asking another friend, not angling or hoping for anything in particular.

Swallowing thickly, Alex made a noncommittal noise. “Maybe.”

“Well that sounds promising.”

“I don’t know—just, someone new. She seems fun, like maybe she’d be worth the risk.”

“Is she cute?” Maggie wondered if she was more of a narcissist or a masochist, though really that depended on whether or not Alex was talking about her.

“I’d probably say hot, but yeah, she’s cute too.”

“Probably pretty cool and suave too, huh?”

“Meh,” Alex teased, wondering if Maggie knew it was her. “She’s kind of dorky, comes off a little weird too.”

“Bet she’s still one of the coolest people you’ve ever met.”

“We’ll see…” Alex took a sip of the water she’d switched to about the time of Maggie’s absurd kitchen dare. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

Bracing herself, Alex tried to look nonchalant. “What about you? Found anyone you like recently?”

“I think so…”

“That so? Think she likes you back?”

“I sure hope so.”

“What’s she like?”

Maggie couldn’t help the dopey grin. “She’s really smart—like, genius level, ya know? And she’s just gorgeous. And, sure, okay, a huge nerd and probably not the smoothest person out there, but I think she might—she might get me, like, she might not try to change me into someone I’m not.”

Alex nodded earnestly. Even if Maggie wasn’t talking about her, she deserved someone who would give her all of that, deserved someone who would more than make up for the family she’d lost. God, she chastised herself, this so wasn’t like her. She didn’t fall head over heels for random people she barely knew, even when they did stand up for her and look that hot holding a gun and a badge. Kara was the one who got butterflies, who imagined futures together on first dates, who fell heart first without constantly second-guessing herself.

“Danvers?”

“Huh?” Alex shook herself from her thoughts.

“I said truth or dare.”

“Oh, um, dare.

Maggie nodded, trying to gather her courage. “You know, um, dares don’t have to be done at this moment, right? Like, if circumstances aren’t right, of if you don’t want to…”

“Well obviously, you didn’t say that you double dog dared me,” Alex teased, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work as Maggie cracked a smile.

“Right, right. Just a normal dare.” Maggie forced herself to look up at Alex’s face. “Well then, first chance you get, I dare you to kiss that crush of yours.”

“First chance, huh?”

“First chance,” Maggie confirmed.

They both sat there for a moment, neither one of them moving, until Alex surged forward. She could have been smoother about it or tried to go slow enough to make sure Maggie really knew what she had dared her to do, but she knew if she didn’t move quickly, she’d lose all her nerve. So she pressed her lips to Maggie’s, just barely kissing her despite the grand lead up to it all.

Before Alex could panic, backing off and rambling apologies until Maggie left her apartment, she felt a warm hand cupping the back of her neck and dragging her forward, their lips crashing together. And somehow, dressed in a neon yellow t-shirt with lime green leggings on and hot pink knee socks—she still wasn’t sure where Kara even found these types of things or why she had left them all at Alex’s place—and half-straddling a woman in overly long sweatpants with her hair done like Cindy Lou Who, Alex felt like she was enjoying one of the most romantic holidays of her life.