#where is this man’s fountain pen

[penelopemiles]

Most upsetting thing about Gotham Knights so far is that they didn’t give Harvey Dent a fountain pen

[running-in-the-dark]

Dan talked about fountain pens for literally 5 seconds and I'm just like 😍😍😍😍😍

[nouearth]

dancing with wolves.

pairing. glen powell x male reader.

word count. 8.8k.

summary. journeying from town to town provided glen a solitude he’d always dreamed of. however, since meeting you, it was all he could complain about.

content warning. smut, western!au, top!glen, yearning!glen, loner!glen, bottom!reader, prostitute!reader, love confession, established relationship, passionate love-making, gagging, deep-throating, handjob (r!receiving), blowjob (r!giving), spanking, overstimulation, milking, anal penetration, breeding.

Cases of whiskey and cider were stacked in a column of two. Six units per beverage, twelve in total as Glen triple-checked the count and label. Though he’d never made a mistake in his deliveries before, it was his vigilance that maintained his good repute amongst the townsfolk. His attentiveness and efficiency in deliveries allowed for trust to be built between him and the towns he’d distribute to.

Months and more, the head of these establishments he’d work with didn’t seem to mind Glen’s uptight and reserved nature. Rather, they were used to it. Penned him as ‘Gunpowder’ because of their inability to see through him, as if the smoke from deflagrated gunpowder had impaired their vision.

As long as the goods were delivered in mint condition, who was to complain that the brooding man marched right on out after receiving his payment without uttering a single word?

Not to mention, his sturdy build was a warning itself to those who’d dared.

“Nearly doubled the shipment from last time.” It was an observation noted to himself. A low mutter that the owner of the saloon caught with a smile, because frankly, the mustached man was known to run the folk’s ears off.

There was a reason why he owned a saloon, and not Glen.

He dropped his payment into his drawstring bag and tucked it into the inside pocket of his shirt. Crime was growing rampant, even in a bustling town like New Vale where a dust storm couldn’t ward off its folks from drinking into the night. Glen wasn’t sure what to make of it. Whether to call them idiots for ignoring the highly alarming signs of bandits gradually killing their way to the west, or brave for living their lives without a single regret.

One would’ve had the same vacillation between labeling Glen as an idiot or a man, for traveling 40 miles and more in his saddle, while the threat of murders loomed over his head.  “God damn, I did! Business been growin’ ever since we’d expanded to include the whores. The fellas can’t keep their hands off of them!” Glen’s ears pricked up from the way the shorter man described the main attraction to his saloon. The man was practically ascending to heaven, tugging on the straps of his suspenders to ground him to the wooden flooring while he boasted about how much of a brilliant man he was for charging patrons by the hour, and taking a percentage of a prostitute’s pay. 

All Glen could do was watch in stoic disgust while the man relished in his own pride, in his own greed.

Though, only for a few seconds before a feeling of guilt and shame took over Glen’s conscious, calling him out on his hypocrisy, on this selfish desire that all the men in the saloon had collectively shared.

He wasn’t much of a better man than the drunkard swaying in his seat, completely shit-faced with a shot glass in his grasp.

Glen tucked his hands into his pockets, leaned to the man’s ear, and lowered his voice to a hush. “The boy in today?”

Coincidentally, he felt a spare coin in his left pocket. The silver ridges scorched his skin like it had come straight from the devil’s fountain, prodding his urges.

“Should be cleaning out back, but I’ll let ‘em know you’re here. You know his room.” The man collected the single coin with a smug grin and tipped his hat. “Nice doing business with ya, and… get y’self a drink. On the house. I’m beginning to treasure your presence.” The march of his steps out to the back were resonant, even with the ragged rhythm of the piano blaring in Glen’s ears as he walked for the stairs.

- - -

The room was left as Glen remembered it.

The thin walls closed in on the oil lamps mounted on the walls. It didn’t take much to light up the room. As bright as candles could be lit, it only emphasized how truly compact the space was. Glen couldn’t imagine that no more than two men could be comfortable standing in this lodging, let alone reside in it. Luckily, Glen was a simple man. He hung his coat on the wall and took his boots off, a much needed relief from the compression at his feet, and he felt satisfied sitting on the miserable mattress. Not from the space, no. Not when he could hear other patrons like him revel in their own pleasure, albeit muffled by the thin walls.

No. It was because he got to see his boy again. Twice a month, like how it had been for almost a year now, and Glen could feel the two weeks of labor thanking him as a huge weight seemingly lifted off his shoulders. 

Traveling from town to town and shipping out whiskey and cider didn’t take much of a toll on his body like herding cattle, but it was uninspiring. Sight-seeing was tranquil, but the sun was beating down on him harder this month. It was tiring. Always on his saddle, on his feet, and now with the threat of robberies ramping, on the defensive, all without so much of a break.

It was lonely. 

And though it was his own fault, it made the moment of seeing his boy all the more special.

Touching you was even more cathartic than he’d like to admit.

Two hard knocks, a beat, then three more, and the door opened.

“You sleepin’ already, Bighorn?” You teased, chuckling to yourself when you could see Glen rise from his position as you locked the door.

Bighorn. The endearment made Glen chuckle.

Glen watched you come into the light as his elbows supported his body, legs extended to stretch the tight muscles in his thighs and calves. A button-up and suspenders, your typical attire as a novice cook. It had to be illegal to look this striking in hand-me-downs covered in flour.

“A second longer, and I would’ve demanded for a refund.” Glen quipped with a simple grin. It was all natural, his body responding to your approach by gathering himself onto his feet. You worked him in mysterious ways. Every step you took, Glen met you half-way. 

Yearn weighted Glen’s heart to match the heaviness of your boots scraping against the floor until you stopped. He stopped in his tracks after, your wide smile reflecting off of his simpler grin, and Glen remained silent, taking you all in with the removal of his hat. 

It wasn’t the first time his eyes ever tracked a man, nor was it the first time his heart ever sped up, but you had this power, this presence, that made him feel anew with the way you looked at him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest close to his own. 

Surely, he knew he wasn’t going crazy feeling like his affection for you had shot up like a bull for the past month. And the month before that. 

And the month before that.

“And I would’ve made it up by makin’ sure you get the best sleep of your life. How’s that sound?” You met his eye level, unabashedly smiling wider than you had ever greeted him before. 

He felt flat, like he’d been hit by the train itself. A sharp jolt that sent goosebumps all over his skin, and it was like you read into his soul, because your hands roamed around his body, warding off the tiny prickles over his skin with a caress to his broad chest, over his forearms, against his neck.

It didn’t take long for Glen to realize you were the curator of the bumps on his skin.

“Sounds like an overpromise...” Glen chuckled along with you, his larger hands feeling up your waist, backside, then to your arse, where they felt perfectly at home in his palms. His gaze was just as curious, peeking at the collar of your shirt that revealed the smallest amount of your neck. To your lips, marveling over ruby flesh he’d often daydream about while riding across the plains.

It was becoming a routine. Where the weeks leading up to the end the month felt like the world had a vengeance against you, and this month was surely taking out its worst out on you.

“You got a haircut.” Glen noticed the shorter length of your hair, pushing it back with a swoop of his hand. He then took ahold of your jaw, maneuvering it cheek by cheek to stoically marvel over your cut.

“Was gettin’ hot. Boss man didn’t like how it collected sweat.” Your fingers worked around his collar, unfurling the fold, then folding it back into place.  “You like it?”

“I can see your face clearer. You look good.” Glen’s fingers raked through your hair once before messily ruffling it. You responded with a shove to his chest, knocking him back onto the bed with an unexpected laugh. “Guess I didn’t need to worry about whether you were eating or not. Christ, you gettin’ stronger too.”

A dull ache settled in his chest. He wanted to say something more than, “You look good.” 

No, it fit you. The trimmed hairs on the sides matched how blunt you could be. 

“You bring any gifts for me?”

“You’re sweaty, and that makes me aroused.”

“You pushing 40. That only makes me want you even more.”

“No one can fill my mouth like you do, Glen.”

On the contrary, it also framed your face like you were an angel who didn’t spout nonsense that would render him speechless. Though, he’d gotten used to that now. It made you all the more endearing, how someone could look as passive as you, have a mouth like that.

“Bastard’s been pushing more tasks onto me since business been growing. Same pay too. Man is too cheap to hire another employee. Don’t think I look any different though.” It took all the energy out of him to not sigh when you straddled his lap. He was swelling nicely beneath you, harder and thicker the more you rut your arse against him. “Or… maybe you’re just getting weaker?”

Glen rolled his eyes. “Don’t get so cocky, boy. Wouldn’t want me to beat it out of you, would you?” Your breath hitched when his palm struck down on your left ass cheek as a warning. It was effortlessly done, yet the subtle sting was more than enough to pull a groan out of you.

You brazened yourself, narrowing your eyes into his drawn gaze as you leaned closer, and pulled him halfway up by the collar. “Not if you call that a beatin’.” Your lips grazed against his, and just when Glen leaned closer, you pulled away and resumed your ruts, pushing your arse back onto his palms simultaneously.

“You gon’ regret that.” It was animalistic. The way you drove your hips into him, and the way Glen desperately responded back, groping your ass hard and pushing you flushed to his groin, to the weight of his bulge. He buried his groans into your neck, biting a patch of skin that would draw out whimpers in between your taunts. 

“I ain’t regret nothin’-“ A loud yelp slipped from your mouth. His palm suddenly came down on your ass again. Harder, like the snap of lighting had bit into your skin. It shuddered you to think that it had hurt as much as it did while you were clothed. Yet, that didn’t stop you from unbuckling and drawing out your belt, and then Glen’s. 

“That the best you got? Like a bee-sting. I ain’t impressed.” You muttered into his neck, kissing at the hot flush of skin after stripping you and Glen down to undergarments. Gradually, you worked his top off, licking and kissing every show of skin that would meet your lips, until he was deliciously bare-chested before you.

“I’ll break your damn ass if I have to.” Glen said through gritted teeth. His arms were folded behind his head, cushioning it while he watched your mouth worship every contour of his body like he was a king. Your mouth would latch onto one side of his ribs, suckling on a freckle, while the other admired his abdomen with several, drunken strokes. It took the trail of his stomach hair to pivot your mouth lower, to slip your hand into the opening of his drawers until it was inevitably full with Glen’s semi-hard cock, meaty and thick in your palm.

“You spendin’ the night?” Your ears perked up at the sound of his groans, your gaze followed the source. He was clearly desperate for more than the laze of your strokes as your grasp was loose and open, favoring to feel around his cock than against. 

“That’s what I paid for.” His hips bucked once you began massaging his cock, throbbing harder in the palm of your hand. 

“I’ll make sure it’s worthwhile, then.” With one hand continuing to knead at the tender muscle, you stripped the drawers off of his body, tossing it onto a pile of clothing in the corner.

“Look at me when you talkin’.” It came out more aggressive than he’d like it to, but your eyes lit up when he caught your gaze, a smoldering smile plastered across your face while you stroked him with your knees pressed to the mattress.

“You stressed or what? Don’t usually talk like this to me.” Stripping yourself bare, you resumed tending to his cock after, gulping at the unholy sight of the meaty tool drooling with a thick and ample amount of pre-cum that would surely stain the flooring if you hadn’t caught the sticky rope with your tongue.

You looked extra handsome tonight, Glen thought. Maybe it was the haircut working wonders on him. Making him act all crazy like he’d been bewitched. One strand of hair fell delicately over your forehead when you spat on his cock, and had your grasp around him not remind him, he would’ve forgotten to breathe.

“Just been thinking about my boy. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” You lapped up his cock while he struggled to pour out his words. It was like molasses, the way he’d pause himself to say the right thing so he wouldn’t scare you. Coincidentally, you seemed to be enjoying the taste of his pre-cum like it was molasses as well, sucking it out him with sunken cheeks.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about filling that filthy mouth of yours with even more filth.” He hissed as you began tonguing his slit.

“Y’know how much I love the taste of your seed.” You dragged your tongue over the head, polishing it with several needy sucks, while your gaze maintained on his. One hand was wrapped around the shaft to hold Glen steady, and the other was cupped around his heavy balls, stretching and fondling the loose stretch of skin.

“I know. You like how it’s warm in your mouth, don’t you?” The grasp around his thick cock tightened. Fingers pressed into his veins, stroking the aroused muscle while your mouth worked on his glans, plump and swollen against your lips.

“And how salty it is. Taste better than your whiskey.” Sweat and musk had built up in the thick hairs of his pubic, in the crevice of his glans as you inhaled his scent. The smell of his cock made your own swollen unbearably hard.

“You like my cock too. Like how heavy it is on your tongue.” He had his fingers running through your hair, keeping any strands from obscuring your eyes as you watched him, just as he had been watching you.

“Nothing better than feelin’ my dirty mouth stretch because of the size of it. Can barely wrap my hands around your tool. My asshole struggles too, if not more.”

You loved sucking on the head. It was tender in your mouth, leaking with salt that made your tongue dance into the slit for more. It was beautiful to look at too. Every now and then, you’d slip him out of your mouth to marvel over the glistening view of his cock, swollen in your own spit.

“Yet it don’t stop you, does it? You keep sucking with that hot mouth of yours. Fucking with that tight ass of yours.” He sat up to stretch his hand from your neck and then down to your spine, repeating the affectionate gesture when he’d reach the limit of his mobility.

“Your cock is my liquor.” You held his gaze with pride, proudly slapping his wet cock across your cheek, against your lips, onto your tongue, because you weren’t ashamed for desiring men. 

You weren’t ashamed for needing Glen.

No amount of prejudice can suppress your very existence. 

“You doin’ a whole lot of talking, and not a lot of sucking.” His hand was strong on the back of your neck, massaging as if it would warm your throat up.

You purred, finding the increasing pressure on your neck welcoming as it naturally opened your mouth back up. Your tongue teased Glen for a little longer. Patience had been wearing thin, you could see it in his eyes as they hardened over the lazy trail of your tongue, unbearably sliming at the underside of his heavy cock. His grasp on your neck was clutching, pulling at your tender skin to maneuver you north and wrap your mouth back around him. But you were resisting. You were going to suck his cock on your own terms, on your own accord, flaunting your tongue over his stiffened pole to warm him up because you had all night with him.

You were beautiful like this, working your spit over his cock with your hand, while you silently leaned up for a kiss. He granted those rubies of yours a chaste peck, then another to the dried drool at the corner of your mouth, then another, a fulfilling kiss to your mouth that had drawn out simultaneous groans from the both of you because it was unapologetically more than lust.

You stroked his cock harder, to the warmth of his tongue as it slipped inside of you, keen to explore the cavern that had made his cock feel so glorious, to explore the mouth that often sent Glen into a spiral simply from his own imagination after the very minute he would depart from you.

His heart was beating, accelerating like it had soles to run on, and all it took was the palm of your hand caressing his chest in soothing swoops to ground him back to reality, to the kiss that had been broken in favor of you returning back to your original position between his legs, mouth agape and taunting as ever. 

“Only because I want you to hear what it sounds like when I’m swallowing your cock.“ With those final words, you slid his cock into your mouth without letting your gags falter you.

His cock was heavy, maintaining the girth from base to tip as you took more of him after every cycle. Tears brimmed in your eyes when you’d choke on one attempt of slotting him down your throat. Then they dripped, rolled down your supple cheeks, when you’d work yourself through your gags until your throat closed in around his tool. You’d lie there with your throat stuffed to the brim, your lips clamped shut from the very base despite the fur of his pubic hairs tickling your lips to open back up.

Your ears rattled from your conscience begging you to end your torture, but watching Glen marvel at that mouth of yours made you endure the looming threat of fainting all the more worthwhile. 

“Christ.” Drool spilled from either side of your mouth as Glen helped you stabilize with a palm to your nape. He gently pushed at the sound of your gags, keeping you situated against his groin in case you’d pull away. “You know how to make a man happy, don’t you?”

“Mmfgh—“ It was pointless responding, but Glen expected it. You always had to get the last word. The last sound. 

He maneuvered you by the neck, pulling you back then forward again, your throat making ungodly sounds around his cock in midst of doing so. Occasionally, he’d meet you halfway and thrust himself into your gags, churning the arising saliva that foamed in your mouth back down your air duct, making you choke in the process.

“You miss my cock that much, boy?”

“Mmff-guh!”

He’d pull you back just in time, his cock releasing from the tight hold of your throat like a cork barricading liquor, and you didn’t waste a single second to fill your lungs again with the arousing air.

“You gon’ kill me with that thing, bastard.” Your spit resembled fizz that would spew out from opened cider. Glen kept it to himself, but he thought you looked dashing like this. Flushed in the face, cheeks stained by dried tears, nostrils stung with sniffles, you’d collect your composure quickly after, brazen yourself as if nothing had happened, but from the tremors in your hands, you were dismantled despite working your hand on him again.

“Too much for you?” He asked, reaching over with a hand to knead at the center of your throat. Glen didn’t show many moods, but you were well aware when he was either aroused, angry, or concerned, simply by the movement of his brows. 

You lifted your chin upon the warm of his hand greeting you, grinning at the raise of the man’s brows. “I jest. Too much? Yes. But that’s the fun in it. Not knowing when to stop because I’m so addicted to you.”

“Should be a poet. You’d know how to charm people with your words.” He sighed into your mouth when he pulled you over, kissing you delicately while one hand lowered to gather his cock and yours in one hold, stroking the throbbing masses.

Glen was never too fond of feeling like this. 

This warmth that was similar to downing liquor, yet not quite as strong or as scorching as to the sensation of aged spirit burning his insides.

It was foreign. The heat liked to spread around his body, the aftermath of hot rain he’d reckon. It was steaming inside of him. Pleasant and restful while his muscles eased. He felt like those biscuits he’d eaten for morning, noon, and evening. Buttery, warm, and pillowy. 

That feeling only happened when he was with you.

It was unnerving how much power you held over him without you even realizing. How he’d weaken under the light of your smile, or even the dazed stare of your eyes, where Glen often found himself concerned with for the remaining month as the shadows beneath your eyes would grow with every visit.

You shouldn’t have that effect on him, because no one has managed to ignite such feelings inside of him. Yet you have, effortlessly so, without missing a single beat, and it was alarming to realize that his solitude had become unbearable since you’d came into the picture. 

Frightening, where his solitude would feel like abandonment had something ever happened to you.

“Poets don’t make a home.” You whispered lightheartedly before breaking into soft, hushed moans, where Glen would happily devour as you resumed kissing him with tongue, running your hands over his muscles in meantime.

“And whoring yourself out does?” He sat up, pulling away to raise a questioning brow.

It was naive of you, but Glen knew better than to lecture you in the meantime. He hadn’t seen you in a month and he wasn’t letting a simple discourse interrupt that.

You shrugged, kissing at the underside of his jaw after he pulled you onto his lap. His hands were on your hips, his cock rubbing between your ass cheeks. “No, but at least I get fucked hollow out of it.”

“Forget what I said. If your mouth is this vulgar, I can’t imagine what you’d write on paper. You’d end a famine with folks dying from shock at your smut.” Without warning, one finger slipped inside of your hole. You clenched from surprise, but eventually welcomed him in with the languid kisses Glen would provide on your neck, on your shoulders, and on your chest.

“That’s a good thing, ain’t it?” You arched forward into his embrace, pushing your ass out as Glen twisted another finger inside of you, stretching your hole with two fingers. “I saved the world…” You moaned out in a manner that sent tremors down Glen’s spine. To his cock, when he stuffed another finger inside of you, and curled deep into your resistance. “Don’t do too much. Wanna feel you.”

“You silly.” The keening sound you give out rendered him speechless, along with the dew of your body and face, thinly layered with cold sweat of your own desires. Your hands braced on Glen’s shoulders as he pistoled his fingers inside of you for a little longer. Twisting, spreading, turning, curling, throttling, until you begged for him, in whispers, in hot kisses that muffled your sounds incoherent. 

But Glen was an attentive man; tasting your tongue to feed off of your words, urging you to repeat with a smack to your ass. You would, desperate and delirious as you pushed your ass into the sting of his palm.

“Can’t take it anymore. I need you inside of me. C’mon.” You reached behind to stroke his cock with your spit, simultaneously pressing his shaft between your rump.

“You actin’ like you don’t get hollowed out daily.” Glen’s touch was tender on your cheek, holding the left side delicate in his palm, while his hips moved against your hand and grind, taunting your patience.

“Not like this. Always thinkin’ about you when someone else fucking me. They don’t do it like you.” It came out as a whine, a needy sound as you angled his wet cockhead against your pucker, dangerously pressing when you lifted your hips.

“They don’t satisfy you like I do.” A statement, rather than a query.

“They don’t...” 

Glen was good at casting doubt on people. 

Lies were often evident through the eyes. Novice liars either looked away, or stared too intensely like they were trying to convince themselves.

Your gaze yearned, lingered in search for Glen’s blessing. He held your gaze for a moment, catching a glimpse of stars in your pupils like he wasn’t aware that it was the candles’ doing. Getting lost in your eyes wasn’t warding off the warm feeling in his body. Rather, it began manifesting a smolder, burning more despite kissing you once to fan it away, to make the light in your eyes—the way you looked at him disappear.

He pulled away quickly to look into your eyes again. Burning now, he was burning. 

Again, his lips sealed over yours, and then he pulled back to stare.

The stars winked.

Again.

A few morphed as one, seemingly emptying the space in your pupils.

Again. 

No, Glen was wrong. They weren’t emptying space.

And again.

They were creating space.

He began witnessing the birth of a few more stars after every turn, crystal-like as they glimmered in your pupils once you smiled at his behavior. 

Glen was in silent hysteria, finding himself spiral from one look you’d given him. It was different. Completely unlike anything you’d ever spared him. It felt true. Pure. Honest.

Loved.

There was no way out. He couldn’t find a way to escape if he’d tried. Burying his face into your neck didn’t work. You smelled like bread dough, ones you’d been kneading in the back of the kitchen. Ones he had eaten and marveled over before even meeting you.

Simply closing his eyes had no effect either, as your hand was on his cock, chasing after the throbbing with patient strokes.

“They don’t.” Glen repeated after you, a confirmation into the underside of your jaw.

Glen was never a man who lost. At least, he never lost without putting up a fight. When he spared you one more glance at the sound of your groan, he felt himself crumble and completely melt. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it. Feel himself melting until all that was left was for bone to be rattled with as you sank yourself back onto his lap, hands braced on his shoulders while you welcomed his cock inside of your cavity, inch by inch

“You’re an angel, y’know that? Every time I see you, I feel like my sins been washed away.” Glen ran a finger along your taut rim, marveling over the way you looked right now, bouncing on his cock, over his lap, your cock swinging in for the ride. He harbored his moans into the crook of your neck, fogging your skin with the warmth of his breath, until you’d break into cold sweats.

“Ironic, ain’t it? What loving a man can do?” You groaned and grunted with exertion as you worked your way lower in tiny thrusts. “They don’t make love to me like you do, just as I don’t make love to them like I do for you. ” You confessed with conviction, and let gravity weigh you down onto Glen’s cock, taking him into your sturdy body. “Only you.”

Glen didn’t hear that right, did he? Loving someone? It was difficult to concentrate with the way you were working his cock. It was a glorious feeling being back inside of you, compact and warm like how he’d remember breaching you. 

You felt so stretched, uncomfortably yet pleasantly filled when you’d lift your hips until only the cockhead remained, and rammed his cock back in with a strong drop of your ass. Your forehead rested on Glen’s, and you could feel every puff of breath he’d exhale. Hear the restraints in his panting as you tied your arms around his neck, and let your weight push him flat onto his back, properly straddling him. 

“You love me? What you talking ‘bout?” He didn’t have the will to stop you. You were so eager, absolutely high on your arousal as you rode his cock with desperate rhythms, but he needed to address the revelation, for his sanity. 

First off, you beat him to the punch. Had it originally played out in his mind, Glen was the one to confess about his feelings, not you.

“What? I-I ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout that.” It must’ve slipped. You didn’t know when, or how, or maybe Glen was a mind reader because you definitely didn’t say that, did you? You rocked your lower body in quicker ruts, hoping it would distill any remaining questions, and looked off to the corner, silently cursing at yourself.

“You’re lying.” His grip on your hips was sudden, making you come to a pause.

“I ain’t lyin’—“ Your brows furrowed, exasperated at the interruption. Luckily, Glen’s cock was still hard inside you, somehow throbbing even more as you witnessed something clicked within him.

Glen took ahold of your body, arms secured around your waist, before stepping off the bed and carrying you to the lone rocking chair in the corner of the room. “So, you hate me?” 

“What? No, I don’t hate you. You—I—Glen, put me down.” You groaned when Glen sat down on the chair, the position driving his cock impossibly deeper into your body.

He refused despite your attempt in wriggling yourself free. You were strong, but Glen was stronger, tightening his arms around you. “Then what is it? I want to know how you feel before I feel like a fool for loving you too.”

Though, not like he had to hold you with much strength considering your bewilderment stunned you in place. “What? You love me?”

“You tellin’ me you don’t know? What was all that “makin’ love” speech about?” He was just as perplexed as you were. His chest felt heavy with disappointment. He’d been overthinking it, hadn’t he? Glen was a liar, someone who tried to convince himself of the impossible. 

“It felt like you were making love to me. Don’t mean that I thought you actually did.“ 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

A deafening silence as you two stared at each other. You were about to leave his lap, only for him to bound you back to him at the last second.

“Well, I do. I love you.” Glen stated matter-of-factly, a peculiar tone to his official confession, you couldn’t help but chuckle at it.

“Bighorn…” You sighed, surrendering into his arms with the slouch of your body, your chest colliding onto his. Frankly, the thought of being with Glen made you happy, yet nervous at the same time. “You know it don’t matter whether I love you or not. Nothing is gonna happen beyond this. Nothing can happen, unless you wanna risk your life. Mine too.”

“That’s something I’m willin’ to do. I’ve risked my life traveling plains, through towns, carrying expensive liquor. Nothing I won’t do for you.” Your heart felt like a pond with thrown rocks skipping across the surface of water.

“Absolutely not, and that ain’t the same. How you gon’ love me when you’re ten feet underground because of the fact that you love me?” You crossed your arms, frowning at his persistence because… well, it was working. More rocks began breaking the solitude of the pond.

“From the heavens, hopefully. Can leave you with my horse. Got a ranch back at home too. Can leave you with that. You’d have a house like you’d always wanted. Carry on with my business.” Pure dreams. That was all they were. Dreams.

“That’s only if I ain’t buried with you, Bighorn.” As much as you seemed resistant to Glen’s imaginations, you found yourself picturing a better life for you as you buried your head into his neck, listening to his tales. Living on a ranch like he’d described. Cattle and sheep would run free while you struggled to keep up with Glen as you joined him on this new lifestyle. It would be hard work, but by dawn, you’d slip into bed with Glen after dinner, and deem that it was all worth it in the end.

“At least we’ll be together, one way or ‘nother.” He kissed you at your neck, laving your skin in the weakest kisses, almost like he was beginning to surrender to your defiance. “So, you love me? You love me too?”

“I—Bighorn—Glen…” 

He’d come a long way since you’d met him. Describing him as quiet was an understatement. He refused to make small talk when you led him into this room for the first time. It was a quick exchange, a shameful one as Glen power walked out of the saloon without sparing you a single glance. Now, he often spent nights with you, refusing to let go of you even in the deep of his slumber. In retrospect, you could’ve left when you had the chance. You had many opportunities even, to find a better life in the next town, and the next.

The thought of having Glen disappear from your life felt like death itself, so you didn’t, knowing that he would eventually down the line. 

A year later, and he hasn’t. 

Love makes you do crazy things. 

“You know I love you, Glen.” You rubbed his chest sweetly, forewarning him of the disappointment you’d never relieve him from. Tears formed at your waterline, threatening to leak, so you pressed your face deep into his neck, wiping them against his skin. Your heart felt heavy, like it wanted to burst out of your chest to stop you from pushing him away. It would’ve killed you, but at least it would’ve saved Glen the disappointment. “I love you too. I’m glad we sorted that out, but we—”

“No, stop. No more. I love you.” He cut you off with a sudden kiss, whispering into your mouth after. “I love you, and I need you, you understand me?” His palm was back on your rump, kneading at the tender, yet toned flesh, while the other hand pressed his growing erection back to your pucker again, prodding. “No more buts.”

“But—“ Your breath hitched when he slid himself in again, stretching you out like before, yet it felt like an endless slide, digging all the way into the deepest part of your body, like Glen was going to cradle your heart, until he was rooted deep inside of you, balls flushed to the cleft of your ass.

“(M/N), I’ll take care of ya. Whatever happens, I’ll take care of it, you hear me?” Glen cradled your head, kissing at your cheek while you returned to burying it in between his shoulder and neck. “Let me see you.”

“H-hmm, m-mhm—“ His cheeks burned as you made those wanton noises in midst of revealing yourself before him. Flushed in the face, cheeks stricken with tears; one would’ve mistaken you to be ill. Though, in a way you were. You’d been struck by incurable illness that was love.

Glen clicked his tongue, frowning in wonder. “So, so, so pretty. You look so pretty.” He began thrusting into you, resuming where you two had left off. “You look even prettier now that I’m making love to you, you know that?”

“You love me.” You bit your lip, holding back moans because you needed to hear it from Glen again, hear of his devotion for you.

“I love you.” He whispered through grunts, spreading your ass cheeks wide, and you pressed your body forward, arching your ass out as his thrusts ramped up. His cock slammed up into you with raw passion, devoting his remaining strength to holding your ass up, and making himself work for you, all in the name of love.

“I love you.” You repeated between needy whimpers. You soon began to bounce up and down, hands braced on Glen’s shoulders, while you joined his thrusts with your own movements, meeting him halfway. His large cock reared you from behind like a hammer to a nail, pummeling you without break, without the chance to let you breathe. 

It was rather the opposite, to knock the breath out of you. 

You watched close, mouthing at Glen’s neck, then jaw, until you reached his lips, where you’d let hungry moans delicately fall into place. Glen found you breathtaking as you lost your mind with primitive lust. 

“You belong to me, you hear me?” Glen said simply, his features calm. “No one else fucks you like I do.”

Your arms tightened around his neck for a hug. Glen seemed absolutely serene in his love, with you on his lap, fucking yourself into his cock. On the other hand, you were absolutely wrecked. Glen was fucking you harder, knocking guttural moans out of you on each thrust. Your own hole clenched when Glen lifted your ass up, pulling his cock completely out of you until you were squeezing nothing but warm air. He’d expertly dip a finger inside of you, to feel how stretched you were, play with your rim because of how swollen it had gotten, before stretching you back to capacity as he brought you back down on his cock, and onto his upward thrust.

“No one makes love to me like you do.” You panted through his batter, each syllable of word rattling in volume as you had absolutely no sense of it. Glen hummed in agreement while he fucked your ass and jerked your cock all at once. He was taking care of you.

You knew what he meant in the long run; tending to your injuries if you’d happen to fall off his saddle, hosing you down with water when you’d take a dive in the lake, feeding you the last bit of his biscuit because he never liked seeing you hungry. A life far from neglect as Glen had made you realize that you and him shared the dream.

But for now, he was taking care of you. Meticulously so as Glen remembered all the spots that made his tongue taste sugary when you’d moan in his mouth. Glen’s thumb caressed your frenulum, using the pre-cum your cockhead had been spitting to slip his touch in the tightest crevices. The pad of his thumb sailed smooth over the neck of your glans, flicking, pressing, rubbing at the swollen flesh of skin. You sounded so sweet and looked so serene under Glen’s touch, a complete antithesis to how you’d normally present yourself.

Glen was familiar with the roll of your eyes; from the way you’d interact with displeased customers at the bar, or from his demand to hold you throughout the night. But would you hold it against him if Glen revealed that he preferred seeing the whites of your eyes from being fucked impeccably in the ass? With his thick cock, battering your insides until you’d remember the shape of his cock? The motion of it all, digging deep into your ass, into your guts, pummeling through your need to clench hard around him, failing to pause him from hitting that sweet spot, or else you’d spill. Your hands curled into his chest as they were braced on the sweaty surface, and you’d never felt so desired, especially with your reflection in the vanity staring right back at you, providing you a simple glimpse of how beautiful you looked to Glen.

You’re a dirty bastard, Glen reckoned you’d confront him with, only before bending over the mattress and spreading your ass cheeks for him. You lucky that I’m as well, Bighorn.

No. No, you wouldn’t hold it against him. 

You were perfect.

“Close.” You warned, then dropped your head lower to kiss him on the lips, spilling your moans into his mouth in midst. 

Your hips bucked into his fist while simultaneously rocking back into Glen’s cock. His hold on you was secure, clutching to keep you as close to him as possible. You toyed with your nipples, pinching and tugging on them, and Glen accepted those gestures as a silent invitation for him to wrap his lips around one nub at at a time, suckling on the perky bud until you’d gone swollen. You’d join his lips for another kiss in gratitude, thanking him with your tongue as it explored his warm mouth, licking into his panting, his grunts, his devotion for you. You swallowed his spit after, and your fate with Glen was sealed and optimistically beyond your control.

“You look like an angel right now, but your hole’s the devil. Squeezing around my cock like this, holding me so tight like you’re afraid I’m ‘bout to pull out of ya. Christ, you’re so tight. You my dirty angel. My sweet devil.” His hand had abandoned your cock in favor of taking your ass into both palms and spreading them like before, fucking his cock up into you.

Your eyes shared pleasure with his, only your pupils had seem blown since he’d started angling his hips in a way that sent tremors to your body. With your cock in your hand, you gazed down at Glen with dazed passion, lips parted to warn, yet only little sounds had come out instead. “Glen. Christ—“ His cockhead tickled your sweet spot at first, a brief brushing that you didn’t think much of other than the fact that it made your body tremble. But Glen persisted, shifting his body against your gorgeous, helpless, and needy body, and fucked your tight body with force, teeth-bared, sweat beading on his forehead. Your mouth fell open, and your face slackened with unadulterated pleasure. “Damn you, I’m gonna come—“

Glen shuddered, witnessing your gaze blur in and out in an attempt to focus on him as he was on the brink of his control himself. “Do it,” he urged you. “I want you to. Come from my cock. Gonna come too, inside of your hole.”

You wailed when Glen’s strong thighs slammed into your sweaty ass. A thunder of delicious sounds: your wails and his growls, the bruising smacks of flesh to flesh, the hard rocking of the chair, scraping against the floor; they created a symphony that was nearing a crescendo. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Glen pounded up into you, and your ears blared with sounds of Glen’s pleasure. Your fist pumped your cock until your forearms began to burn, veins pulsing through to power you to your high.

He was gutting you, hollowing your hole out until it would recover just in time for his next visit. You’d remember him for the remaining weeks, his cock pummeling you until your melodic cries had shifted from want to euphoric need.

“Glen..!” You yelled.

Glen kissed you deeply and bit your lower lip, one hand steeling you by the nape to hold your forehead to his. He doesn’t plan on letting go. Watching you like this, submerged in unconditional pleasure, was just as gratifying as hammering into your prostate. “You feel so good, angel. Look at you. Look at that pretty smile, you’re so happy to be filled with my cock. 

You were so full of cock, of Glen’s cock, and you cried from it. Cried from how Glen was taking care of you so well, back to fisting your cock, kissing your neck, pounding your insides out.

Love has never felt so good.

Finally, you came with an arch of your back. Glen’s fist released just in time for thick and heavy ropes to splatter on his chest. Glen stiffened, his eyes daring back and forth between the exhilarating expression on your face and the obscene visual of your cum flooding Glen’s fists as he wrapped his hand back around you, and worked you through your orgasm.

“M-mmfgh, come inside— Need it. I need you.” With your eyes on his, you leaned down to kiss him and take his hands into yours for balance, raising them over his head. They were sticky shut from layers of your cum, but that only made it more thrilling as you rode him. You lifted your hips and brought it down without a single pause, burying his cock inside of you to the hilt.

“Angel, fuck— I’m coming.“

You swallowed his growls, warnings of the inevitable, yet you accelerated like you didn’t hear, slamming your ass down repeatedly, chasing after his high. His hands suddenly grasped hard onto yours, sponging cum out from the locked hands and letting it trail down your arms, and his hips bucked. You could feel his thighs flex, see rapture possess his very being as his gritted teeth no longer could contain the trumpeting sound of his moans, his muscles pulsing. With one more press of your ass, you buried Glen’s cock and felt him come inside of you. Heavy and thick as his hot seed stained your walls. Creamy like butter, when you slowly milked him inside of you with gentle rhythms of your hips. It felt sublime, having your insides contain Glen’s devotion for you.

“You the devil himself…” Glen groaned and his body twitched as you emptied him of seed, stopping once you were satisfied. He then released your hands to embrace your waist, letting you slump into him with relief. Your head rested on his shoulder, and your eyes closed shut.

“You really mean it? You’d wanna live on a ranch together, or something?” You asked, feeling his heart come to a calm with your palm providing soothing strokes to his chest.

“Have I ever lied to you?” He turned, pressing his nose to yours. One hand caressed the small of your back, and occasionally would fondle your rump. Warm and plump in his grasp, he couldn’t help that he was in love with every aspect of you.

You thought about his question for a moment, pursing your lips before shaking your head. “No.”

“Then that’s your answer.” He assured with a kiss to your lips. “We ain’t gotta do it now, or the next month, or the month after that. When you’re ready. Just wanted to know I want a future with you.”

“Me too...” You muttered, playing with his chest hair to distract the sudden conflict you’d been harboring from him. 

Silence filled the room for a moment as he watched you intently. You picked up his hat from the floor and fit it on yourself. 

“There’s that ‘but’ again. What’s the problem?” Glen chuckled, his heart racing again despite maintaining his composure. He playfully flicked the rim of his hat down, making it tilt on your head, and cover your sight line.

“Hey—You ain’t gon’ like it.” You adjusted the hat, sighing in defeat when Glen watched you with vigilance.

“What?” He sat up, making you straighten your posture in turn.

“Think the sheriff’s not gonna like the sound of me quitting.”

“You kidding?”

“Nope.” You pursed your lips again, then sighed. “He’s boss’s most loyal customer. Pays well too. I mean, I don’t know. I may be wrong, but… think he likes me beyond what I do for him. Buys me gift from the city and all.“

“Well, he’s gonna have to prove it. I ain’t leaving without a fight. Not until I’m dead, and even then, I’ll be watchin’ over ya.”

“You a mad man.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[onlymingyus]

Birds of a Feather

pairing; joshua hong x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), fluff, crack

summary; You and Shua work together on a petition to get rid of the bird kid and then you fall in love.

warnings; university au, alcohol, drug use (marijuana), food/drink, betting, bad jokes, borrowed memes, simp!joshua, jealousy/possessive nature, irresponsible use of a hot tub and a friend’s personal space, slight dom!joshua, mild dom/sub dynamics, pet names, sex health/birth control talk, unprotected sex, breast play, pinning/man handling, dirty talk, oral (m & f receiving/giving), 69, scratching, crying, size kink implied, exhibition kink implied – as always I’m sure there is something I’ve left out.

w/c; 14.3k and some change

a/n; first of all thank you so so much to my dear @onlyhuis for proofreading this and thank you for literally being the reason it exists. this is based on a true story – names have been changed for privacy and it’s not completely true but bird kid should find a new place to live. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me come up with an amazing title, also without june, @highvern, @shuadotcom, and @horanghater just know this fic would have sucked majorly. thank you so much for helping me figure out my shit and adding so much to this.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Joshua rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he leans his forearm against his door, looking down at the cute girl standing in his dorm room. You were holding a clipboard and had a look somewhere between serious and annoyed on your face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

You hadn’t had the chance to meet every single resident in your hall but today you were making some very interesting discoveries. For example, apparently Eros lived just five doors down and he slept in late. Clearing your throat, you look down at your clipboard in an attempt to hide how shy his gaze is making you feel.

“I’m Y/N; would you sign my petition to evict the bird kid? I know that sounds harsh but just to get him to, like, get his own place off campus with his bird.”

His lips pulling up into a small grin, Joshua watches you start to ramble about your cause as you tap your pen against the paper attached to the clipboard. It seems you have several signatures so far. He had heard about this bird kid and he had also heard the bird in question several times.

“Sure, I’ll sign it. Anything to get him to stop letting the damn thing use the water fountain as a bird bath.”

Joshua watches as your eyes lift towards him again as he agrees with you. With the clipboard securely in his hands, you scoff in agreement, lifting your hands to express how important your argument was.

“Right?! It’s gross. I drink out of that fountain. I mean, I used to...“

Nodding, Joshua signs his name and offers you back the clipboard before resting his shoulder on his door frame. You watch his smile pull to one side before he furrows his brows and gestures over his shoulder.

“My roommate is still passed the fuck out but I’m sure he will sign too. Swing back by later and catch him when he’s actually breathing.”

Pulling the clipboard to your chest, you press your lips together, trying to keep your eyes on the man’s face even as you feel them being drawn to where his t-shirt was straining around his bicep. Clearing your throat, you lean back a bit and glance down at his name, whispering it to yourself before nodding and daring to look back up to find Joshua still watching you.

“Okay… I’ll do that, Joshua.”

Turning towards the next door, you pull your eyes from his handsome face even as Joshua leans out of his doorway to watch you, lifting his hand to wave.

“Good luck with your petition, Y/N. See you later.”

Groaning into his drool soaked pillow, Lee Chan forces himself to turn over and look towards his roommate, who was standing in the doorframe watching the hallway. He liked Joshua; if anything, the man was more like a brother than a roommate at this point but he was talking far too loudly for a Saturday morning.

“That has to be a girl if you are acting like a simp this early.”

Rolling his eyes, Joshua shuts the door behind him, turning towards the younger man and shooting him a look before reaching for one of the bottles of water and tossing it towards him. Despite usually having great eye to hand coordination, Chan hisses in pain when the bottle manages to meet his chest instead of in his hands.

“And? Your point? Drink your water; I’m sure you have one hell of a headache.”

Chan wasn’t going to argue with Joshua on that point. He did have a headache that could rival all other headaches. He couldn’t remember much of the night after their friend Seungcheol had shown him where the punch bowl was and challenged him to a “drink off.”

Reaching for the pain medicine on his nightstand, Chan groans, trying to open the bottle as Joshua watches, only to sigh and take it from his hands, doing it for him. Muttering a thanks, Chan takes the bottle back, leaning back onto his bed to take the medicine, looking up at the ceiling.

“Who was the girl?”

Pursing his lips, Joshua falls back on his bed, trying to hide the small smile on his lips, thinking about the short interaction with you and how cute you had been. It wasn’t like anything had even happened or that there would be anything that would come from it but it was nice meeting a new neighbor so to speak.

“Uh, she said her name was Y/N. She’ll be back around later. Told her you’d sign her petition.”

Chan’s brows furrow at Joshua’s words as he lifts his hand to wipe at his mouth, water starting to run down towards his chin.

“What? Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s not that big of a deal and you’ll agree with it. It’s about that dude who has a bird. Something about getting him to move off campus with it.”

Making a face at the mention of the bird, Chan feels his headache behind his eyes, even thinking about the squawking that could be heard late at night and early in the mornings.

“You’re right. I’ll fucking sign it. I’ll forge names. I’ll help the son of a bitch move.”

Taking back your clipboard once more, you smile at the girl who doesn’t seem to know when to stop talking. You were happy she agreed with your cause but you didn’t need to know every other complaint she had filed over the past month with Seungkwan, the RA.

“Totally, I get it.” Gesturing with your thumb over your shoulder, you offer her one last tired smile, “I’m gonna head back the other way, I have a couple of places I need to get on the way back to my room.”

“Yeah, sure. Oh, Y/N! When you talk to Seungkwan, you know when you file the petition... mention the water pressure again.”

Groaning under your breath, you just give her a thumbs up, hearing her yell bye at your back as you scurry off in the opposite direction. The more distance you put between her and you, the air feels lighter until you look back at your clipboard and read Joshua’s name, seeing your little star next to his name.

You weren’t sure why this man was making you so nervous – besides his good looks – but as you stood in front of his room, reading over the whiteboard attached to it, you blew out a breath. The messages on their board were cute, some funny, but for the most part, you could tell they were from friends.

I fuckin won last night you owe me dinner - Cheol

rescheduled studio for tuesday - jihoon (don’t call me and bitch)

Lifting your hand, you knock on the door next to a worn sticker of a tiger that someone had tried to peel off but failed at doing so. You swallow hard, running your thumbnail along the pad of your index finger as you wait, beginning to think that he or his roommate were out until you hear hushed voices and the sound of a thump like something hitting the floor.

Joshua throws one last look at Chan, who rubs the back of his head from the floor next to this bed, muttering an ow, before the younger man pushes himself back to his feet. He hadn’t said anything he thought was all that bad, just that Joshua looked like an excited puppy hearing a knock at the door. He hadn’t been wrong; Joshua had jumped up and started towards the door, only to stop looking panicked and check his hair in the mirror on the back of the door before Chan had spoken up.

Opening the door, Joshua takes a breath before licking his lips and smiling at you as if nothing had happened at all. Your eyes move past him to the other man, who grumbles, rubbing his ass as he finally gets back on his feet and looks towards the door to meet your eyes for the first time.

“Hey, is this a bad time? I can come back tomorrow or something.”

Stepping back and to the side, Joshua shakes his head as Chan’s eyes widen, finally getting a good look at you. It was starting to make sense—Joshua's reaction to you. If he had seen you first, he might be in the same predicament, but there was a bro code, and he was a good friend.

“Not at all, right, Chan?”

Hearing his name, Chan moves forward and gestures to you inside the room, quickly moving one of his shirts off the desk chair so you could take it if you wanted it.

“Nope, all good with me. Shua said you’d be back, about the bird dude, right?”

Slowly walking into the room, you look around before looking down at the chair that had been cleaned off for you. It hadn’t been your plan to come in and sit down but you weren’t going to say no when your feet were aching after walking up and down the hall for hours.

“Uh, yeah, thanks.”

Joshua watches you move to the seat, his eyes never leaving yours even as you close yours for a moment to relish in the feeling of the pressure being taken off your back and legs as you sit down. His eyes finally move to the clipboard in your lap as he moves forward, causing you to open your eyes to look up at him.

“Looks like you did well today. Can I see it?”

Humming out a response, you lift the clipboard towards Joshua, letting him take it from you along with your pen so he can turn back towards Chan, offering it to him. With the petition out of the way and Chan occupied with something else, Joshua grins, turning his attention back to you. His eyes move over your face and down the length of your body quickly as he tries not to make it entirely obvious.

“I tried; it was tiring. I’ll try to hit the other floors over the next couple days before I take it to Seungkwan.”

Nodding, Joshua purses his lips, gesturing his hands out towards you, causing you to look up at him as he does.

“We are pretty good friends with Seungkwan. Might save you a little time. I’m not saying to cheat the system but I can tell you are exhausted. I could also help you, you know, with the other floors.. Have some friends who live in those dorms.”

You weren’t sure why Joshua was willing to help you but you weren’t feeling like turning him down, even as Chan scoffed into a laugh while finishing filling out the petition. Glancing over his shoulder, Joshua turns only to jerk the clipboard from the other man’s hands, letting the two share a quick look before he smiles at you again, offering it to you much kinder.

“What do you think?”

Biting at your bottom lip, you glance towards Chan, watching him turn away from what was happening in front of him. Tapping your fingers on the clipboard in your lap, you smile and look away, feeling suddenly shy under Joshua’s gaze once again. His playful laugh is the only thing you can hear over the blood rushing to your head as your cheeks and ears go warm.

“Yeah, that’d be great. I can give you my number so we can coordinate where to meet and stuff.”

Rolling his eyes, Chan groans at the puppy love display in the same room as him. Sliding past Joshua, the younger man mutters a bye to you as you watch him slip out the door, leaving you alone with Joshua, whose smile just grows.

“Awesome, yeah. Don’t worry about Chan. He’s dramatic.”

Eyes still following Joshua, you watch him pick up his phone from his nightstand, returning to offer it to you. You can only shake your head, a small laugh slipping from your lips as you tap on his phone icon and add a contact for yourself after making a mental note of his artsy blue wallpaper on his phone.

“He’s okay. I mean… I don’t know what he was being dramatic about but I’ll get out of his hair so he can come back and chill.” Smiling up at Joshua, you offer him back his phone and say, “I like your wallpaper, it’s pretty.”

You’re pretty, is the first thing Joshua thinks of but he just smiles back at you, taking his phone and biting at his bottom lip.

“Thanks. Uh, he’s fine, really. Don’t have to worry about him, he’s a big boy. Just not used to seeing pretty girls in his dorm room, especially ones he’s not allowed to flirt with.”

You had started to take a breath so when Joshua speaks and says that you swallowed the breath, it gets stuck in your throat. Leaning forward, you cough, lifting your hand when he steps forward, asking if you are okay. Furrowing his brows, Joshua moves to take out a water bottle, opening the lid before squatting down in front of the chair and offering it to you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Nodding, you take the water, taking a sip as Joshua watches you carefully. You were fine but you felt like an idiot. Your face was on fire from the coughing fit and embarrassment. How were you going to explain that you had just choked on air?

“No rush…  Take it easy. Another sip of the water.”

Lifting his hand, Joshua pushes your hair back, getting a good look at you and checking to make sure you were actually going to be okay. He could tell you were flustered and obviously embarrassed but there was nothing, in his opinion, that you needed to be embarrassed about.

“I’m alright. It’s stupid… I just tried to take a breath and it didn’t go well for me.”

You watch as Joshua smiles at you, his eyes kind and understanding despite the awkward situation. Dropping his hand to his knee, Joshua bites at his bottom lip once again as he tilts his head, studying you before nodding.

“Been there before. Feeling a bit better?”

Sitting back, you nod, taking another sip of the water as Joshua offers you the lid, letting you put it back on the bottle.

“Yeah, I’m good now. Fuck…I’m really great at first impressions.”

Standing up to let you do the same, Joshua takes in a sharp breath, watching you move towards his door. He knew he had just met you but he already didn’t want to let you go. He wanted to get to know you more and he wasn’t sure if just helping you with the petition was going to be enough.

“I, for one, am thoroughly impressed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Turning back to Joshua, you smile, letting him pull the door open, leaning his shoulder against it much like he had earlier in the day. You were staring at him again, letting your eyes move from his face, studying his lips, and moving down to his chest and over to his arms.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll text you in the morning. Have a good night, Joshua.”

Leaning his head back against the door, Joshua grins to himself, having known you were checking him out just as much as he had been doing the same to you. Maybe he had a shot at this.

“You too, Y/N.”

Y/N: I know it’s early but I was hoping to get started on the petition in about 30 mins on the second floor. You still wanna help?

The ding of his cellphone caused Joshua to groan before he reached out for the device, smacking at the nightstand a few times before actually grabbing it. Normally he would have ignored the message but today he remembered that he had texted you last night, making sure you had his number.

Cracking an eye open to look at his screen, Joshua winces at the brightness, blinking a few times before he is able to read the message and look at the time. It was 9 a.m., and he had gone to bed around 3 a.m. Of course you didn’t know that but he also wasn’t going to tell you no.

Joshua: Absolutely. Can we get coffee? 🙏

The message makes you smile as you sit on your bed, your stuff in a semicircle around you as you try to get ready for the day. Usually you weren’t too concerned with how much you dressed up around campus, especially on the weekends during the day, but today was different. You were going to be hanging out with Joshua Hong.

After your less than ideal first meeting with him, you decided to do some sleuthing to find out more about him, so now not only do you have his last name, but you also know his major, music, and that he has released a few songs on SoundCloud. You had even looked through his Instagram and swooned over many of his pictures, being overly careful not to like any pictures so he wouldn’t know you had been looking.

Y/N: Ofc my treat 😉

Still laying in bed, Joshua smiles at your message and the emoji. Were you flirting with him? A man could dream, couldn’t he?

Joshua: We will see who gets their card out faster.

Joshua had done his own investigation of you the night before but there had been less social media and more word of mouth as he sat in his friend Vernon’s dorm watching a few get more drunk than necessary. Lucky for him, Jeonghan had been at the little get together and he seemed to know everyone or at least something about everyone.

“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a lit major. Really fucking cute, but you probably know that.”

That he did know, but if you were a literature major, that meant you were smarter than him.

“As far as I know, she’s available. Check her Instagram but... I’m pretty sure.”

Now, walking towards your dorm, Joshua was doing just that—scanning through your most recent pictures. Most were just selfies that he was having a hard time not liking, but a few had friends leaning against you, smiles on both of your faces. What he didn’t see was anyone who seemed like a romantic interest.

Tilting your head, you watch as Joshua looks down at his phone as he walks the few doors towards yours as you wait, your bag slung over your shoulder. He seemed distracted and it wasn’t until you felt your phone vibrate in your hand and looked to see that shuahong95 liked your photo that it made sense.

Pressing your lips together, you feel the warmth spread over your cheeks as Joshua’s eyes widen slightly and he hisses under his breath before looking up to see you looking down at your phone. You had already seen the notification. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, shaking his head. Joshua presses follow on your profile and slips his phone into his jacket pocket as he finally reaches your door.

The second notification pops up that shuahong95 has followed your Instagram, and you swallow hard, looking up as you see his shoes standing in front of you. A bit of a deer caught in the headlights looks plastered on your face; you can only offer him a small smile as he leans his head against the wall next to your door and smiles back at you.

“It was a cute picture. Couldn’t help it.”

Shaking your head, you laugh quietly—a bit manically, as if you were trying to figure out what reality was anymore—slipping your phone into your pocket. Joshua just watches you gauge your reaction, finding it even more adorable as the seconds tick by.

“I–yeah? Thanks…you’re really...”

You didn’t know what you were saying but it didn’t seem to matter to Joshua, as he grins at you for just letting it happen. When you sigh, letting the words die on your lips, Joshua laughs, reaching up to tap his finger on the tip of your nose, causing your cheeks to burn hotter than you thought they could.

“Adorable. Coffee?”

Right, coffee. You had said you would treat him to some before you got started with today’s work. Reaching up to touch your nose where Joshua’s finger had just been, you smile and look away to help calm yourself before clearing your throat and gesturing towards the exit.

“Sure, I’m surprised you were awake when I messaged. You seemed like a late sleeper yesterday, both you and Chan? Is that his name?”

Nodding, Joshua walks beside you, his eyes moving between you and where he is headed. You were exceptionally pretty today. It wasn’t just the fact that you had clearly put work into looking the way you did but that you were smiling and you were almost glowing in the morning light.

“Mmhm, Lee Chan. He’s been my roomie for a year. He’s a good kid.” Smirking, Joshua lifts his hand to rub at the back of his neck as he continues speaking, “Yeah, weekends we tend to party a bit so I usually sleep in a bit more than I would during the week but for you, I'll roll out of bed.”

He was very obviously flirting with you. You weren’t an idiot but what you were was flustered and smiling like an idiot. Turning your face toward Joshua, you press your lips together and nod as he opens the door, letting you go out first into the crisp morning air.

“Seems like you are enjoying university life a bit more than I am, Joshua Hong.”

You dare to look back up at the man as he smiles at you for staying by your side as the two of you make your way towards the local coffee shop located on campus. Clearing your throat, you furrow your brows and lift your finger to scratch at the scrunched up skin as you start to ask the question that has been plaguing you since the night before.

“Um, so yesterday you said something about Chan and it made me curious as to what you meant.”

Tilting his head, Joshua purses his lips, trying to remember what he had said about his roommate before you continue making his cheeks warm up this time.

“Something about how he’s not allowed to flirt with me? What did that mean? Does he have a girlfriend or something… or is there another reason?”

There were two thoughts running through Joshua’s mind the moment you finished your question. One, did you like Chan? Surely not…  You had spoken like five words to the kid and you had been flirting with him all morning. Two, how was he going to do this without just saying it? Fuck it.

“I don’t think he’s dating anyone. I don’t keep up with it, honestly. The last party, he was trashed and hanging out with some pretty freshmen but that’s not why I said it.”

Stopping in front of the stop, Joshua squints a bit from the bright sunlight, making you smile as he tries to think of the right words before he finally continues.

“I said it because he knows that I’m interested in you. There’s a code after all.”

You had half expected it but at the same time, there was no way you could have been prepared for someone like Joshua Hong to tell you that he was interested in you. Granted, you didn’t know each other all that well but you had eyes and desires. Pressing your lips together, you muffle a small happy sound, just nodding and looking down at the sidewalk as Joshua grins, reaching out to tilt your chin back up towards him.

Joshua watches your lips part slightly as your eyes meet his once again. You can’t help but lean into his touch as his thumb glides across your jaw for a few seconds before he finally lets go of your face and takes a breath. You had that deer caught in headlights look on your face again but Joshua was just enamored by you.

“After you.”

Your eyes finally move from the spot where Joshua had been standing when you feel the warmth from inside the shop and smell the coffee wafting towards your nose when he opens the door. Willing your feet to move, you whisper a small thank you to him as you slide by him and into the shop, glancing around it, seeing only a few of the tables occupied by students with headphones covering their ears as they stare at laptops.

Lifting his hand, Joshua places it against the small of your back as he quickly waves the other at the barista, who grins at him tiredly. You had seen the man several times when you had visited the shop but never really introduced yourself to him. Glancing at his name tag, you make a mental note of Vernon as Joshua and him share a quick secret friend handshake, making your head spin. You weren’t aware that people still did that.

“What’s up, man? The fuck you awake for?”

Vernon speaks before glancing to Joshua’s side and at you before he makes a sound like an oh and grins at his friend like he knows some sort of secret. Did all of his friends know he was interested in you?

“Going to help Y/N with her petition. Which, by the way, while we are here, do you mind signing it? It’s the one I told you about, the bird kid.”

Nodding, Vernon moves behind the counter, already starting on a drink, which you assume to be Joshua’s as the man asks him the question. You just watch mesmerized as the steam plums in front of his face and Vernon just leans back and smiles.

“Hell yeah. Always down to support a worthy cause. Really awesome for you to do something like that Y/N.” Taking a breath, the barista furrows his brows, snapping the equipment into place before he grins at you. “Hey, I’m Vernon Chwe, by the way. I’ve seen you around but we’ve never really talked before. You know what you want to drink?”

Joshua watches you smile at his friend. It was a kind smile and something that he was really starting to like about you—just how kind you seemed to genuinely be. The petition was funny on the surface but underneath it, you were legitimately trying to make a difference in the comfort level of those around you.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Vernon. Thank you for that, seriously.” Glancing behind him, you look over the drinks before pursing your lips and finally nodding, “Can I get an iced mocha?”

The man gives you a thumbs up, letting you turn back to Joshua, whom you find already looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You can’t help but laugh a bit, shyly glancing away from him and behind you just to make sure he was actually looking at you.

Joshua laughs, reaching forward to take your arms and pulling you back towards him as you look for someone else. There was no one else. There was only you right now and you were so damn cute, he was starting to lose his mind.

“Who are you looking for, pretty girl?”

The heat rises along your neck and across your cheeks at Joshua’s words as your laugh gets caught behind your lips. You hadn’t expected that either. Shaking your head, you whine a bit and finally sigh, meeting Joshua’s eyes as his fingers gently run along your forearms.

“Just who you might be looking at like that but...”

“You. I’m looking at you, silly.”

Vernon rolls his eyes and grins while watching his friend flirt with you. He had seen Joshua flirt with girls before but never like this and out in the open. It had been at parties with the intent of having a quick hookup. This seemed like something different.

Sliding the drinks across the counter, Vernon clears his throat, managing to get your attention first. You smile at him and step away from Joshua to take out your wallet as Joshua shakes his head and reaches over you to tap his phone against the card reader, hearing the beep.

“Told you we’d see who was faster.”

Joshua watches as you talk to each person you meet as if you’d known them for most of your life. With your clipboard in your hands, you extend it towards the boy as he nods along with your words, agreeing with everything you had to say before taking your pen to sign his name. You were good at this—talking to people and standing up for something.

Smiling at the boy, you wave at him before he glances at Joshua quickly to just keep it friendly with you, wondering if the person following so closely behind you was your boyfriend or not. Though you were beginning to wonder if that was something he was trying to shoot for or not, he had been standing closer and closer to you. His hand rested on the small of your back as he held on to your half finished drink, letting you talk to people about your petition.

“Awesome, so just like... Seven more doors this way and this floor is done. Are you sure you aren’t getting bored?”

Offering you your drink by just putting it up to your lips, Joshua watches you laugh and lean in to take the straw into your mouth so you can take a sip as he shakes his head. This was the opposite of boring to him. Yeah, the task wasn’t the most interesting thing in the world but the company was perfect.

“I’m great and I know at least three of the guys who live in dorms up ahead so I will actually be helpful today.”

Shaking your head, you lick your lips, drawing Joshua’s attention to them as he furrows his brows, finding himself wanting to kiss them. Joshua knew that was too fast. He knew it would probably freak you out, but, dammit, you were driving him crazy.

“You’ve been so helpful all day; are you kidding? You’ve made this fly by. Yesterday, I felt like I was doing this for like 30 hours straight. This is actually enjoyable with you hanging out with me.”

So you liked hanging out with him too. He was for sure letting that go straight to his head. You watch as Joshua’s pretty lips pull up into a smile and his cheeks get fuller, causing his eyes to almost close and make perfect half circles. You were starting to love that smile. It was a real smile and it made butterflies flutter around in your stomach like they were at a rave.

“It’s my pleasure, seriously. I’d like to hang out with you more… You know, not just doing this stuff. Maybe dinner? Movie? My friend’s are actually having a party next Friday. If you aren’t, ya know, doing something else.”

Joshua Hong was asking you out. Fuck, the butterflies were flying up to your throat and you were feeling a bit queasy with how excited you were. Grinning, you almost skip in place before starting down the hall towards the next door, causing Joshua to laugh and move to catch up with you.

“Y/N…What do you say? You wanna go with me? Maybe... see where this goes?”

Feeling his free hand on your bicep, you look back at Joshua, biting at your lip as you just nod before meeting his eyes. You almost didn’t trust yourself to say anything but the look on his face made you feel like you were melting. You hadn’t had anyone look at you like that before. You knew it was university and that people were meant to fall in and out of love but you could see yourself falling for Joshua hard and quick.

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

Sliding his hand along your arm, Joshua moves his fingers to your wrist, letting his fingers loosely wrap around it. He nods and takes in a breath, fighting the urge to either move his hand down to yours to take it into his or to lean in the few inches it would take him to claim your lips for a first kiss. Not like this. Not while you were standing in a dingy hallway while other students pushed past you, both trying to get to one of their only working showers.

Letting go of your arm, Joshua smiles and gestures forward, letting you take the lead once again until you reach the first door and he reaches past you to knock on it hard in a pattern that makes your head tilt. This had to be one of his friend’s dorms. One look at the whiteboard in front of you confirmed it as you read a message from Chan stating that “Choi Seungcheol is a huge dick” only for “is a” to be marked out and “has a” to be written under it in someone else's writing.

When the door in front of you opens, you instantly avert your eyes from the shirtless man in front of you, who curses and darts off to the side, muttering Joshua’s name under his breath. Standing behind you, Joshua slides his hand over your hip and laughs as he watches Seungcheol look around for a shirt, tugging it over his head before he comes back to the door.

“What? You always answer the door half naked like a caveman? He’s dressed now, Y/N; nothing will be burned into your memory for eternity.”

Sighing loudly, Seungcheol rolls his eyes and throws up his hands in confusion, gesturing to you before you look back at him and offer him a smile. You were cute; you were really fucking cute and Joshua had his hand on your hip. Fuck. You were off the table.

“Hi, I am so freaking sorry about that. I should have maybe said something, but I didn’t, ya know...”

Shaking his head and waving his hand, Seungcheol makes a scoffing sound and gestures for you both to come in.

“It’s fine. It's not like you saw anything important. I was just shirtless; just didn’t expect to see a pretty girl at my door with that knock. Just expected an idiot.”

Hearing his friend call you a pretty girl, Joshua shoots Seungcheol a look only to get back a shrug and a gesture in your direction as if to say, Well, am I wrong? You glance around the room and smile at Seungcheol once again before putting your clipboard against your chest and taking a breath.

“I’m Y/N, but Joshua just said that...  uh I’m here—”

“She needs you to sign a petition. You know that fucking dude with the bird who gives it a bath in the water fountain?”

Furrowing his brows at the whiplash of words being spit at him, Seungcheol looks from you to Joshua before laughing and nodding. He did know which guy Joshua was talking about. He had taken a video of the kid giving the bird a bath in that fountain and sent it to Seungkwan, which resulted in a bit of backlash on the kid but not as much as it should have.

“Yeah, of course. What’s the petition gonna do?”

Moving forward, you offer the clipboard to Seungcheol, explaining your cause and how it would work as Joshua watches you with his friend. Once again, he was mesmerized by you and how easy it seemed to be for you to pick up a conversation with just about anyone.

Taking the pen and clipboard, Seungcheol sits on this bed and works on filling it out between glaces between you and Joshua, a smirk lifting at one corner of his lips.

“Surprised to see you fighting for a cause, Shua.”

Narrowing his eyes, Joshua waits to see the proper lines signed before he steps forward, taking it from Seungcheol’s hands with a curt thank you.

“You shouldn’t be. Y/N was doing this alone… I just thought she could use some company.”

That explained it. The hand on the hip, him following you around like a love-sick puppy, that look in his eye when you moved anywhere in the room. Joshua Hong was whipped.

“Ah, I see. Just helping, Y/N out. What a good boyfriend, sorry friend. What are you?”

Groaning at Seungcheol’s words, Joshua rolls his eyes and moves to grab your hand as you try to defend him and yourself, only to be guided towards the door and out of the room as the man behind you laughs and apologizes.

“Shua! I’m kidding. You’re cute together, that’s all. Don’t go away mad.”

Slamming the door behind him, Joshua leans against the wall, glancing at you as his fingers start to slip from yours, only for you to close your fingers around his as you look up at him.

“You did ask me out, so he’s not that far off. I mean, you're not like my boyfriend, you know...” Joshua grins as you lower your voice, like it's a secret, when you finish your sentence. “Yet, we did say we’d see where it could go. Don’t be mad at your friends for teasing just because of me.”

Running his fingers along yours, Joshua sighs softly at your words before nodding. He couldn’t help but let his eyes move along your face, enjoying being this close to you. He could imagine how much he was going to enjoy getting to know you better and spending more time with you when there wasn’t some task in the way.

“You’re right. I’m not mad at him and I’m certainly not embarrassed, I just don’t want you to be freaked out by it or anything. Don’t wanna scare you off.”

With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you let it go only to smile and shake your head as Joshua’s thumb moves in a circle along the palm of your hand.

“I’m not scared.”

You were scared as you stood in front of the mirror you and your roommate had haphazardly leaned against the wall. Your dress was short and your boots were borrowed. You could hear music quietly playing from Yeji’s laptop as she gives you a once over and a thumbs up.

“You look hot.”

Whining, you tug at the end of your dress and meet her eyes in the mirror as you tilt your head.

“You sure you won’t come along? I could use backup.”

Shaking her head, Yeji gestures at her laptop and laughs before offering you a sympathetic pout. She had already given up so much of her time today to help you get ready, not to mention letting you borrow her favorite boots to complete your outfit.

“I have to finish this paper before midnight or Professor Byun is going to drop me from the class. I wish I could come with you. It sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than a stupid research paper.”

Still whining, you move to Yeji’s desk, wrapping your arms around her from behind and granting yourself another laugh as she holds your arms and leans back against you. You had gotten lucky with your roommate. While so many others ended up switching after a year, you and Yeji had stuck together, and she was your best friend.

“If you finish it and want to get out of the room, just come out to the party. Joshua said there will be lots of people there and it will go until early in the morning.”

You feel Yeji nod against your cheek before she sighs and pats your arms to get you to let her go.

“I promise, but I also want you to just have a good time. Don’t worry about me. Go hang out with your boyfriend.”

Warmth was creeping along your cheeks again as you stood to your full height and moved to pick up your jacket, pulling it over your arms. Muttering, you pick up your phone, glancing over your messages, seeing one from Joshua about picking you up soon.

“He’s not my boyfriend yet…”

Even with the words spoken behind a whine and under your breath, Yeji can make them out and she laughs, feeling endeared by you. It was nice to see you happy and focusing on more than just school for once.

“Yet.”

A knock at your door causes you to take a deep breath as Yeji squeals excitedly, turning in her chair. She had met Joshua in passing a few times over the week but this felt different even for her. This was your first date with him, officially.

Joshua grins at hearing the quiet, happy squeals behind the door as he waits. He had been excited about this all day, to the point that Chan had left for Wonwoo and Mingyu’s house well in advance, leaving him in the dorm by himself to pace.

Taking in a sharp breath when the door opens, Joshua can’t help the way his eyes move over your face and then the length of your body in your outfit. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting but you had just surpassed them all.

“Shit…”

Yeji grins at the interaction. She watches Joshua stare at you, stunned, and how you shy away, whining at him to stop it. Shaking her head, Yeji sighs and finally waves at Joshua, managing to catch his attention.

“Have a great time. I expect her home no later than 9 a.m.”

Laughing, Joshua can’t help but shake his head. He wanted to tell Yeji that he could keep that promise but right now he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Uh…I’ll do my best.”

Your cheeks were on fire at the exchange between your best friend and Joshua. What were they even trying to do? Groaning, you mutter a goodbye to Yeji as she giggles, telling you to have fun before slipping your hand into Joshua's, pulling him away from the door as you shut it behind you.

“You look gorgeous.”

Linking his fingers with yours, Joshua looks over at you as he walks with you out into the chilly night air, feeling you step a bit closer to him. He could see you smiling even under the dim streetlights. Your smile could light up rooms so it was doing wonders for him right now.

“Stop it. You look great. How am I going to keep my date to myself?”

Laughing, Joshua shakes his head and leans his head back to look up at the sky as the two of you walk towards frat houses. You could both hear several parties already in full swing but none of them were where you were headed.

“I promise I’m not leaving your side. Besides, I’m more concerned that I might have to fight for you. When I invited you to this, I didn’t really consider who could be there or even where it was going to be.” Joshua sighs a bit dejected before glancing back over at you. “Most girls look at some of my friends, like Mingyu or Wonwoo, Cheol and I watch as our dates find someone else to talk to.”

Furrowing your brows, you come to a stop, forcing Joshua to do the same or to drop your hand. Looking back at you, he sees the disappointed look on your face and sighs once again, moving back to stand in front of you.

“Do I look like most girls to you, Joshua Hong?”

His smirk pulls at one side of his lips as Joshua watches you and how serious you look standing in front of him. He hadn’t said what he had to get some sort of sympathy from you, just as a true statement of what he had experienced in the past, but clearly you weren’t having any of it. Shaking his head, Joshua leans forward to brush his lips across your cheek before he speaks against your skin.

“No, you don’t.”

Closing your eyes, you try to stay still when Joshua kisses your cheek. You hadn’t expected it but you weren’t against it either. Smiling, you open your eyes as he starts to lean back, only for his eyes to drop to your lips before they lift once again to your eyes.

“I–okay…So don’t say things like that. I’m going with you.”

Your voice was quieter than you intended but Joshua just smiles, tightening his fingers with yours as he leads you up the few steps into the house that his friends were renting. The house wasn’t massive by the standards of the other major frat houses but for the available rentals, Wonwoo and Mingyu had lucked out.

Inside, you glance around, noticing a few familiar faces but many more that you had only seen while passing around campus. Joshua grins, sliding his hand from yours in place of putting it around your waist, keeping you close to him as he guides you through the house and towards the living room, where he waves at a tall, handsome man holding a red solo cup.

“Shua! You made it!”

You find yourself smiling at the man’s infectious enthusiasm as he moves through the smaller crowd to pat Joshua’s back and smile at you, lifting his brows.

“Course I did. Uh…Gyu…” You watch Joshua’s brows furrow as you look from him to the other man, waiting for the introduction before he gestures at you. “This is Y/N. Y/N this is Kim Mingyu.”

Offering his hand, you take it, letting the larger man encompass yours briefly before he looks back at Joshua and laughs.

“Wow…I owe Jeonghan fifty bucks. Fuck.”

Shaking his head, Mingyu walks towards the kitchen, leaving you and Joshua watching him a bit confused before the man at your side sighs and slides his arm back around you.

“Don’t know what that was about. Sorry…Clearly, he pre-gamed.”

You simply smile and lean in to kiss Joshua’s cheek, feeling the warmth spread across his face under your lips, before you pull back to meet his eyes.

“Don’t worry so much. I think they are just happy to see you here with somebody. If I had to take a guess.”

Furrowing his brows, Joshua swallows hard, his eyes moving over your face and down to your pretty smile before he lets out a breath and a laugh.

“Yeah? Think that’s what's going on?”

Nodding, you try to act as nonchalant as possible, feeling Joshua’s fingers pressing into your hip.

“Mhm. Between that and what happened yesterday with Seungcheol…”

Smiling, Joshua just shakes his head, trying to keep himself from doing anything stupid or too quick, as you bite at your bottom lip and give him such a sweet look of innocence. Seungcheol furrows his brows as he wrinkles his nose to the feeling of smoke tickling it. Vernon tries to pass the bong back over to him while Chan mutters to himself, sitting between them and looking at his laptop.

Joshua leads you through the living room, where Seungcheol looks a lot more relaxed than the last time you saw him. He grins at Joshua, pointing at him before letting his lips fall into a pout.

“Took you long enough.” Using Chan’s arm to sit up, Seungcheol groans to himself as he whines out his complaint to Joshua, knowing that usually he would be the buffer between him and Chan. “Do you know how much shit I have had to listen to Chan spew while I waited on you to get your ass here?”

Glancing from Joshua to you when Joshua lifts his hand and starts to speak, Seungcheol grins, finally seeming to realize you had joined his friend.

“Shit…Y/N. You came.” Pushing at Chan’s leg, Seungcheol pats a few times at the couch, getting lost in what he is doing before he looks back up at you and smiles a bit lopsided again. “Sit down.”

Shaking his head, Joshua watches as you laugh amused with high Seungcheol’s antics as Chan whines, having his laptop pushed on his lap towards Vernon, who was engrossed in his phone watching tetris competitions.

“We’re gonna mingle a bit first, Cheol. She might want a drink.” Glancing towards you, Joshua furrows his brows, realizing he hadn’t even asked. “Do you want a drink?”

Smiling at him once again, you glance around the room and towards the kitchen, before biting at your lip and pulling his attention towards it again.

“Sure, hang out for a minute. I’ll get them.”

Joshua starts to tell you he’ll get drinks but you let go of his hand and head towards the kitchen, where Mingyu yells your name, granting himself one of your pretty laughs. Seungcheol tilts his head with lidded eyes, letting his gaze lazily move down your legs before glancing up at his friend.

“She’s hot.” grinning, he leans his head back against the couch with a hazy smile. “If you don’t date her, I’m gonna shoot my shot. Still can’t believe you got her to show up.”

Slapping the side of Seungcheol’s head, Joshua listens to the man laugh as he leans forward to take another hit, letting out an exhale of smoke as he finally leans back on the couch. Lifting his brow in half annoyance and amusement, Joshua looks back towards the kitchen, seeing you smile at something Jeonghan was telling you. He wasn’t sure how he had managed it either.

During the week, Joshua tried to keep himself busy and on track but on the weekends, he allowed himself to enjoy everything that university life had to offer. He had good friends with cheap alcohol and decent weed. Joshua watched you snake your way back through the crowd, two drinks in your hand and a smile on your face, and Joshua realized now he had you to add to that list.

“I literally have no idea what’s in these cups. Jeonghan said it was juice and Soonyoung said it was death.” You laugh sweetly and Joshua swoons, not knowing if it was the atmosphere getting to him or you as you tilt your head and speak before you take a sip of one cup. “I like your friends, Joshua.”

Taking the other cup, Joshua takes a sip, recognizing the mixture of alcohols and various fruit juices as a Yoon Jeonghan special before making a face. You don’t seem to hold the same displeasure on your face but Joshua knows that can only mean that you might drink too much of it and regret it later, he would just have to keep an eye on you.

“Like it?”

Nodding, you tip back the drink, and Joshua’s suspicion is confirmed as you lick your lips, emptying your cup, and glancing back at the kitchen, causing him to laugh.

“Listen, there is enough alcohol in this to fuel a jet. One more and then we maybe…wander out to the hot tub.”

Glancing towards the sliding glass doors, you try to see where a hot tub might be but you aren’t able to see it from the living room, making you furrow your brows. Instead of questioning Joshua, you just laugh and tilt your head, feeling a bit shy about what you have to say next.

“You didn’t tell me to wear anything for a hot tub.”

He hadn’t. Joshua smiles, glancing down at his drink before taking a bigger gulp and nodding to your words.

“I didn’t wear anything either. We can just wear what we have... or figure it out.”

Your face was on fire but it could be the "juice.” You needed more courage to see where this was going. With your smile growing in size, you can’t help but laugh. Nodding, Joshua nods along with you before you feel your fingers slide along his before you head back towards the kitchen.

Seungcheol makes a face, trying to read what Chan was pointing at his laptop. He was trying hard to get him or Vernon to look at the screen and read what he had been writing for most of the night.

“No, ‘cause listen. If I say she breasted boobily, does that sound hot?”

Vernon blinks at his phone before looking over at the laptop and reading over the paragraph that Chan had been working on for over an hour before sighing heavily.

“I don’t know, man. It’s fanfiction. I think you can say whatever in hell you wanna say.”

Joshua furrowed his brow, a bit confused at the conversation, as he stood next to the couch. He wasn’t sure he had just witnessed as he watched Seungcheol stare blankly at the screen for a few more seconds before the man shifts his gaze back over to him and grins, seeming to remember he was there.

“Sit down, man. Hang out.”

Glancing towards the kitchen, where you were laughing at something Wonwoo was saying and back to Seungcheol, Joshua lifts his hand to scratch at his cheek before shaking his head. Seungcheol was starting to pout again and attempting to make more room on the three seater couch when Joshua shook his head.

“Maybe later.”

Patting Seungcheol on the shoulder, Joshua listens to the man whine as he walks towards the kitchen with his eyes fixed on you. Sliding his hand around your waist, Joshua feels you jump slightly, your eyes moving from Wonwoo to him as you smile.

“Hey, you weren’t coming back.”

You could feel your cheeks burning at Joshua’s attention but also the other eyes in the room as Wonwoo smirked at how jealous Joshua was acting.

“I was just talking to Wonwoo. He was telling me that you make some mean french toast apparently.”

Smiling, Joshua leans to kiss your cheek before glancing at Wonwoo and tilting his head.

“Camping stories?”

Wonwoo just grins, lifting his cup to his lips to take a sip before nodding and furrowing his brows.

“Thinking about planning another trip for the summer. Maybe Y/N will come with us this time.”

The idea of it made Joshua excited and nervous as he glanced to judge the expression on your face. You seemed intrigued as you clinged to his side, your smile once again lighting up the room.

“Sounds fun.”

It was sounding more and more like you were planning on sticking around with Joshua and his friends. Holding on to you a bit tighter, Joshua takes in a breath and gestures over his shoulder,  causing Wonwoo’s eyes to follow his hand before his friend meets his eyes again, only to smile.

“It does; hey, do you mind if I borrow the hot tub?”

A louder laugh from your right makes you smile as Mingyu slides back through the kitchen, picking up a fresh cup and pouring more of the juice into it as he shakes his head to answer Joshua’s question.

“Go for it, man. Just keep cum out of it.”

You make a face at the wording but Joshua just laughs, causing Wonwoo to meet his eyes and for Joshua to grow a bit more serious. Taking a step towards the doorway, Joshua picks up a smaller bottle, watching Wonwoo’s head tilt and his mouth start to open when he just grins and winks before turning to also pick up two shot glasses.

“Okay, got it. Hot tub is for relaxation only.”

Glancing around the backyard, you take the last sips of your drink as Joshua mutters to himself before making an “ah ha” sound. You gasp, watching strings of lights light up across the deck and into the trees near the hot tub, where Joshua stands grinning at you, looking pleased with himself.

“When it’s warmer weather, they throw outdoor parties or leave the doors open. I helped them hang up the lights.”

Joshua watches you glance around the lights, a smile on your face, before you once again look at him, causing his head to spin. He knew he was a goner when it came to you. You could tell him to jump on one leg and bark like a dog and he’d probably do it for you without many questions at this point just because you smiled at him.

Moving back towards the hot tub, Joshua whispers “tada” before showing you the smaller bottle of tequila and shot glasses he had commandeered from the kitchen. He grins as you laugh, moving in a bit closer to him to tilt your head. You watch as he sits the bottle on the side of the hot tub before he moves back in touching distance as you narrow your eyes playfully.

“And where did that come from? Just happen to keep bottles of tequila on you at all times?”

Wincing Joshua closes one eye as if he’s trying to think of something, feeling your hands sliding along his sides. Your laugh causes Joshua to smile and meet your eyes even as your fingers tug at the end of his shirt so your fingertips can brush over his bare skin just above his jeans. You had more courage and you weren’t going to let it go to waste.

“It was sitting on the counter. Wonwoo might yell at me later for taking it but all is fair at a party. Don’t have it on the counter if it's not up for grabs.”

Sucking in a breath, Joshua tilts his head as he feels your fingers sliding under his shirt along his back, lifting his shirt. You looked almost too pretty under the twinkling string lights and feeling your warm fingers running along his back as the chilly air also bit at his skin was intoxicating.

“You are killing me, Y/N.”

Laughing softly and sweetly, you trail your fingers further up his torso, making Joshua groan as he finally gives in, leaning back only enough so that he can tug his shirt up and over his head, giving you what you want. Your eyes move from his handsome face down over his toned chest and down to his stomach. You couldn't help yourself as you smiled, running your thumbs along the top of his v-cut feeling. Joshua takes in a deep breath, leaning his head back to look up at the night sky.

“You are so handsome, Josh.”

Closing his eyes, Joshua groans quietly to himself before looking back at your face as you give him that same innocent look that had been driving him crazy for two days. With his thumb and forefinger on either side of your chin, Joshua holds your face in place as he leans in to brush his lips over yours for the first time, listening to the sharp intake of breath get caught in your throat. It wasn’t a full kiss but it made you want to chase after one, and the way his fingers were holding you in place, all you could do was whine and press your nails into Joshua’s sides.

“Patience, baby.”

Plush lips caress yours and a large hand slides along your neck as Joshua finally gives into you, taking not only your breath but every thought in your head with his first kiss. You moan softly into his mouth as his other hand slides along your hip and down to grip at your ass, causing your brows to furrow.

Smiling against your lips, Joshua pecks at them once more before sliding his hand from your ass to your leg to slip your dress along your thigh as you look up at him.

“This okay? I figure you don’t want to get your dress wet. “

Nodding, you shrug out of your jacket, letting Joshua work the tight dress up your body and over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties as he works to kick off his jeans. You find yourself watching him shyly as you pick up your clothes and put them into a chair, your borrowed boots safely tucked away underneath as Joshua smirks at you.

You were stunning. You weren’t wearing anything special. There wasn’t any lace and nothing matched but it didn’t need to. It was perfect because it was you and he wanted more. He could just imagine being between your legs or kissing your breasts as he watched you move back towards him and the hot tub. Feeling your hand trembling in his as he helped you into the warm water, Joshua knew you needed a bit more time.

Taking in a deep breath, you smile as Joshua leans to press the button, causing the hot tub to start running and the jets to cause the water to bubble and roar around the two of you as he settles in near you. Steam rising from the surface, you watch him through it as he leans his head back for a moment before reaching for the bottle he had taken, cracking up the seal to pour each of you a shot, offering you one.

“To possibilities?”

Trying to hold back a laugh, you press your lips together and nod as Joshua laughs at your reaction. He knew it was a silly toast but it was what he wanted—a world full of possibilities with you. Tipping back your glass, you make a bit of a face to the taste and feeling of the burn as the alcohol runs down your throat. Joshua follows suit, letting out a breath before nodding and putting his glass back securely on the side.

You could feel that your head was lighter, your inhibitions were low as the drinks from the night had all begun to mix in your system. Joshua watches as you smile brightly, putting your glass very carefully beside his before you turn to look at him curiously.

“Truth or dare, Joshua Hong?”

Chuckling as you use his full name, Joshua moves his hand to run it along your arm as he starts to enjoy the buzzed feeling as his head tilts to your question.

“Truth.”

Biting at your lip, you can’t help but wrinkle your nose at his answer. You knew you were the same way when it came to truth or dare but you had pictured Joshua as a dare kind of guy.

“Mmkay. What was your first impression of me?”

Lifting his brows, Joshua laughs once again, realizing this was how this game was going to go. You watch as he reaches for the bottle of tequila, pouring another couple of shots, allowing you to grab your own. Hissing at the taste, Joshua narrows his eyes at you before smiling and pouring another shot a bit nervously.

“I opened the door and thought, Damn, what a pretty girl.”

Watching you smile and tilt your shot glass back, Joshua can’t help but smile as you giggle a bit to yourself. Reaching forward, Joshua wipes a bit of tequila from your chin, causing you to whine and lean into his touch.

“And I still think that, ‘cause you are so fucking pretty. Truth or dare.”

Feeling almost too warm, you lift out of the water a bit, only shifting yourself closer to Joshua, who takes a deep breath when your chest lifts from the water briefly. Moving his eyes from your breasts to your face, Joshua presses his lips together when he feels you almost sit on his lap as you purse your lips, thinking hard before speaking.

“I’ll pick truth too.”

Turning your attention back to Joshua, you are almost surprised to see him so close. Starting to apologize, you laugh, feeling Joshua’s hand slide around your hip to your back to keep you in place.

“You’re fine, right where you are. In fact…”

Sliding his legs apart, Joshua watches as you dip your chin under the water, feeling him shift his leg under your ass so that you can rest comfortably on his lap.

“Now…I’m curious what’s on your mind right now. So that’s my question. Tell me what you are thinking.”

Flexing your fingers, you try to figure out where to put them but feeling Joshua’s fingers sliding along the top of your panties at the small of your back, you can’t help but whine before resting your arm around his neck and your other hand against his chest. The feeling of being close to Joshua comes naturally, and you start to feel thankful for the water surrounding you, knowing that you were becoming aroused from even just sitting on his lap.

“Right now? Um…lots of things.”

Joshua grins, his free hand daring to caress your leg under the water, feeling your legs part instinctively for him even though he doesn’t do more than run his thumb along your inner thigh.

“Yeah? Tell me three of them.”

Sighing, you furrow your brows and shift on his leg, causing Joshua to rub his lips together at the feeling. He liked this too much, having you this close to him. Feeling your body press up against his and having your fingers walk along your skin as you thought of your answer.

“I was thinking about the camping trip and how that might be nice.”

Joshua smirks as you seem to stall in telling him anything he might actually want to know. It wasn’t that he disagreed with the sentiment; it was that he knew you had more on your mind. Nodding, he watches as you smile and avoids his eyes, letting your voice drop in volume so that you can barely be heard over the roar of the jets.

“And I was thinking about when you kissed me. About how I wanted you to–to do that again.”

Grinning, Joshua lets his eyes move to your lips and back up to your eyes as you stumble over your words. Leaning forward, he rests his lips against yours without applying pressure as you whine his name, pressing your fingers against his chest.

“One more, Y/N.”

You couldn’t think like this, not with Joshua’s lips hovering over yours and his breath warm against your face. Closing your eyes, you try to let yourself melt into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his fingers moving over your skin as you finally answer him.

“Just want you to fuck me. That’s what’s on my mind.”

Joshua’s lips press against yours firmly, his hand sliding from your thigh to your waist to pull you towards him tightly. He wasn’t being careful anymore, not when he knew what you wanted. Groaning into your mouth, Joshua furrows his brows, feeling you adjust your legs over his so that you are straddling him and are able to roll your hips down to grind over his hardening length.

“Fuck…” The word is drawn out on a breath when Joshua pulls back from kissing you to lean his head back at the feeling of your hips rolling over him. “Baby, that feels good. Feels too good.”

He was calling you baby again and your head was spinning. You smile, leaning to press a kiss to the column of Joshua’s throat when it’s exposed to you, drawing another groan out of the man’s mouth. Hands tighten on your ass and Joshua laughs out your name in disbelief, moving his head so he can meet your eyes.

“You are gonna make me break my promise about cum in the hot tub.”

Fingers dig into your skin under the elastic of your panties as Joshua takes a deep breath, calming down before he nods and glances over his shoulder towards a door, considering his next action.

“We are going in there. I wouldn’t wanna fuck you in here anyway. I wanna take my time with you.”

Biting at your lips, you laugh softly, sliding off Joshua’s lap as he stands and helps you do the same. You furrow your brows once you are safely back on the patio, feeling the cold air biting at your skin while watching Joshua collect your clothing and his own.

“What room is that? Should I get dressed?”

Leaning to kiss your shoulder, Joshua grins against your skin, shaking his head as he shivers just as much as you from the cold air. You feel him usher you towards the door, letting you open it, happy to find it unlocked.

“It’s Wonwoo’s room. We are just gonna…you know, borrow it.”

Blinking a few times in the dark as Joshua trips over a few things, muttering to himself before he finds a lamp, you smile, finally able to look around as he moves to the other door, locking it.

“And Wonwoo won’t mind if we borrow his room?”

Joshua drops the last of the clothes onto the floor before moving back over to you and sliding his hands up your wet back towards your bra clasp as he shakes his head. You can’t help but laugh as Joshua mutters about Wonwoo's understanding needs. You knew it was a weak argument but you weren’t going to go against it.

Running your fingers through his hair, you moan Joshua’s name as you feel his fingers tug at the straps of your bra, freeing your body from the garment. The room was much warmer than it had been outside but chillbumps were still spreading across your skin.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

Joshua shakes his head mostly in disbelief at himself thinking about how you had been living on the same floor as him just five doors down all this time and he had clearly been an idiot or blind. Scratching his nails along the back of your arms, Joshua leans down to kiss the top of each of your breasts with a low groan to the soft feeling of your skin against his lips. He was already addicted to you and he had barely had a taste.

“Please…Josh–ah…don’t tease me.”

Smiling against your nipple, Joshua lifts your right breast, kneading at the soft mound before taking the bud into his mouth and sucking hard, feeling you arch against his mouth. Walking backwards, you hear Joshua whine, feeling you start to pull from him, causing him to have to hold on to your waist to keep your breast in his mouth. You don’t stop walking until you feel the bed behind your knees and you whisper to Joshua that you need to lay down.

“Mm, okay, wait. Don’t get the bed wet.”

You smile as Joshua moves to one knee, sliding his hands up your thighs and finally to your hips to tug your panties down your legs. Closing your eyes, you take a breath, letting it out slowly, feeling his lips move over your thighs until his hands reach your ankles.

“Lay down, baby.”

Helping you down, Joshua tilts his head, taking in every inch of your body as he feels his cock throb jerk behind his boxers. You were perfect in every single way. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted first. Lifting his hand, Joshua runs his hand over his mouth as your hand barely traces the curve of his shaft as you wait for him with a questioning look on your face.

“Just trying to think where Wonwoo might keep his condoms.”

When you smile, a quiet laugh falls from your lips. Joshua can’t help but mimic your smile, sliding his fingers into the top of his boxers and working them down his hips as you watch. Your brows lifting, you take in a breath before licking your lips, obviously hungry for what was in front of you, watching his cock bounce back up at attention as his boxers fall to the floor.

“I…I’m good. I have an IUD and I get tested. Unless you just want one.”

Taking a deep breath, Joshua takes one more long look at your body before focusing on your pretty face and shivering at the idea of having you raw. There was no way he was going to say no to that.

“Okay…No, I’m good. I get tested too…  Fuck, are you sure?”

Nodding, you lift your hand out for Joshua as he rests his knee between your legs, feeling the wet warmth of your pussy against his thigh. Lacing his fingers with yours, Joshua pins your hand to the bed next to your head as he lays over you, smiling against your lips and feeling your hips roll over his thigh.

“You are so wet, baby.” You whimper against Joshua’s lips, his teeth catching your bottom lip and dragging it out just slightly before he lets go with a groan. “I wanna eat you out so fucking bad but I also wanna fuck this mouth…”

Gripping his bicep hard, you dig your nails into his skin hard enough to leave small half moon divots, causing Joshua to hiss at your reaction to his words. Smirking, he presses kisses on your jaw up to your ear, speaking against it causing chillbumps to once again spread across your skin.

“You like that? When I talk dirty to you? Tell you what I wanna do to you.”

Nodding, you bury your face against Joshua’s hair, feeling embarrassed as he laughs and presses kisses on your neck. Leaning back on his elbow, Joshua looks down at you, watching you try to hide from him until he pulls his hand from yours to turn your face back towards him so he can run his thumb over your lips, causing him to groan quietly. He knew what he wanted.

Laying in the middle of the bed on his back, Joshua smirks at you as you sit back on your feet, watching him get comfortable. You smile as he slides the pillow from under his head and lifts his hands, beckoning you towards him, only to tell you to stop when you start to crawl on top of him.

“Uh huh…  I want you on my face; let me see your ass.”

His hand slides along your leg as you whine, unsure, but Joshua just nods and helps you get in position with your knees on either side of his face as you rest your hands on his chest. Running his hands along the back of your legs up to your ass, Joshua groans at all he can see in front of him before he grips your hips and pulls your pussy down to his mouth, running his tongue flat against you to get his first taste.

You gasp loudly, your nails digging into his chest, feeling his tongue running along your folds and pressing into your entrance for just a taste of the arousal that had already dripped from you. Leaning your head forward, you find yourself sliding your hips back and down over Joshua’s face and closer to his tongue as he groans, lapping at your clit, before sucking hard and making you cry out his name.

With each passing moment, you find yourself sliding further and further down Joshua’s body until you realize you could give him exactly what he wanted. Wrapping your hand around Joshua’s cock, you twist your hand and feel him pause between your legs, his fingers pulling you back towards his face as he lifts his head up to suck your soft folds into his mouth.

“Josh…fuck. Oh my god…  I’m getting so close. I want your cock, okay?”

You couldn’t hear what Joshua was saying as he groaned against your pussy; he was too far gone and too drunk to care but anything you wanted was yours. The moment you wrap your lips around his tip, Joshua has to let his head fall back and take a deep breath as he mutters your name.

A warm, wet mouth envelopes him as your tongue presses against the underside of his cock right up until the point that you can’t take a single centimeter more of Joshua before you pull back with a gasp. Tears start to run down your face even as you smile, feeling Joshua’s fingers parting your folds so his tongue can get right back to work, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm that was right on the cusp.

With Joshua’s cock buried in your mouth once again, you moan around him, only pulling back when you feel the overwhelming pressure take over you as your orgasm rips through your body. Resting your forehead against Joshua’s stomach, you whimper his name as your thighs shake almost violently at the feeling of his fingers slowly sliding from your tight walls and along each side of your clit.

Large hands run along your thighs and up over your back as Joshua tries to soothe you before finally managing to move you to his side so he can pull you into his arms and press his lips to yours. You furrow your brows to the taste of yourself on his lips but smile at the feeling of his hand gliding along your skin to your thigh, pulling your leg across his hip to keep you close to him.

“You okay?”

Nodding, you rub your lips together and laugh under your breath, feeling Joshua’s nose nudge against yours before he kisses you softly once more. You felt like jelly but you felt good. You wanted more. You needed him completely and you knew that he still needed more.

Joshua hums against your cheek, feeling your hand slide along his stomach and down towards his cock, resting against his lower abdomen. Your smaller hand felt good and your mouth had felt even better but he had felt your pussy around his fingers and on his tongue and he was craving it on his cock now. Kissing your cheek, Joshua smiles against your skin while dragging his nails along your thigh as you lazily stroke him and speak just above a whisper.

“Fuck me, Joshua.”

You feel him nudge his nose against your cheek as he rolls you on to your back, moving his body between your legs. You knew he was a large man but underneath him, you felt even smaller and vulnerable in the best ways. Arching your back, you moan softly, letting Joshua slide your leg once more along his up to his hip, causing your wet folds to separate once again.

“I was planning on it.”

Joshua sucks in a breath, watching your eyes close on a silent moan as he slowly works his cock into you for the first time. You were tight and the stretch was evident on your face. Your brows furrowed tightly, and you took a deep breath only when Joshua bottomed out and stopped to allow you time to adjust.

Resting his lips against your shoulder, Joshua groans, trying not to think about how tightly you are squeezing him or how much he already wants to cum as you scratch his back. Instead, he just takes a deep breath and turns his head towards you to make sure you are okay. You blink tears from your eyes at how good the stretch feels and nod to Joshua’s words, begging him to move, lifting your hips in order to get him to do something.

“Shh, fuck baby. I’m–shit…okay. I was gonna go slow.”

Shaking your head, you run your fingers through the back of Joshua’s damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his lips back to yours as you speak between kisses, feeling his hips finally meeting yours and sending your head towards the headboard with each deep thrust.

“No, I want it. Feels so fucking good. Please, Joshua.”

You were going to be the death of him. Hissing out a groan on your lips, Joshua moves to rest his forehead against yours as he gives you what you want and thrusts into you hard and fast, making you cry out his name. The sound of the music from the party was still loud enough to keep him from wondering if anyone might hear you but at this point, his pride was starting to hope maybe someone would. He wanted them to know how good he was making you feel.

“Yes–ha…fuck! Josh–”

Joshua had fucked other girls and had them scream his name but no one else had made his head swell and spin like you did. Every time you said his name, Joshua felt like he was floating.  He felt like he was sending you to the moon every single time he buried his cock in you. Even if that wasn’t how you felt, he knew that you felt like heaven and he could die happy after being between your legs and in your arms.

Feeling your walls tighten around him, Joshua groans your name, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He could tell you were getting close just from the way you were squeezing his cock but you were also pushing him over the edge. He had been skirting it and doing his best not to let go too quickly but with one last scratch of your nails along his back and a soft moan from your lips, Joshua’s body shakes as, with each thrust, he pushes his cum back into you.

“Please…” You listen to Joshua’s whine into a moan as he leans back to watch his cum drip out of you with each thrust. “Cum for me?”

Feeling his thumb press against your clit, rubbing small circles against the swollen bundle of nerves, you cry out Joshua’s name as your thighs begin to shake when he sends you back over the edge, spiraling into your orgasm once again. Joshua licks his lips, watching your face this time as you cum, his eyes fixated on your lips and how they fall open when you moan so loudly that he’s certain someone had to have heard you.

Carefully slipping from you, Joshua lays on top of you, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running through his hair as he catches his breath. He could hear your heart racing and how it was steadily starting to calm down as the minutes passed. He could hear your breath evening out and he could feel the dampness of your skin against his cheek.

“I need a shower. Fuck…”

Your laugh makes Joshua smile against your chest before he leans back to look up at you, leaning to press his lips to yours once and then again furrowing his brows. You could see the question on his face and feel his apprehension as he took a breath.

“I–yeah. Same. Are you wanting to leave? I can take you back to your dorm. I – cause you know this was fun. I’d like to see you again. You know more often...”

Smiling, you lift your hand to run your thumb along Joshua’s jaw as he stumbles through his words. You knew he was a smart man and by all standards, he ran with a pretty popular crowd at the university, yet he was acting like some high school boy with a crush after fucking you into the mattress.

“Yeah? That mean you wanna date me, Joshua Hong?”

Joshua’s lips pull up into a smile at your words before he lays his face flat against your breasts, realizing how stupid he must have sounded for you to have to even ask that. Of course, he wanted to date you. This was the most cliche thing he could have done but he wanted you. Lifting his head, Joshua nods and sighs, gaining back some of his confidence.

“Yeah, hell yeah. I wanna date you. Wanna take you out as much as possible and keep you in my bed the rest of the time.”

Laughing, you shake your head, feeling your cheeks warm at Joshua’s words this time. It all sounded perfect but there were a few hiccups in his plan.

“Mm, I accept, however...  I don’t think Chan would want me in your bed that often.”

Scoffing, Joshua starts to lean up on his elbow, ready to explain just where Chan can shove his opinion, when a loud knock at the door startles you both, causing you to gasp. Wonwoo narrows his eyes at his bedroom door, trying the knob once again, only to groan.

“Who the fuck–Shua! Are you fucking in my bedroom?”

Widening his eyes almost dramatically, you watch Joshua hold back a laugh as he slips out of bed and starts tossing you some of your clothes as he slips his own on.

“Of course I am. I appreciate your donation to the cause, Wonwoo.”

Another loud fist to the door makes you stifle a laugh as Wonwoo groans in frustration, leaning his forehead against the door.

“You son of a bitch. First you stole my good tequila and now you fuck in my bed. You owe me liquor and sheets. I am going to kick your ass!”

Pointing at the door that the two of you had used to come into Wonwoo’s room, Joshua whispers for you to sneak out that way as he carefully unlocks the other door and tiptoes towards you.

“Yeah yeah…  You know I’m good for it, man!”

Slipping out the door, you squeal when the other door opens and Wonwoo yells Joshua’s name, only for Joshua to slam the other and grab your hand, telling you to run. With a smile on your face, you keep up with him as he helps you weave through the side yard and out onto the street that you had taken to get to the party. Pulling you into his arms, Joshua laughs as you do, glancing back to make sure Wonwoo wasn’t following you, only to hear his phone go off with a barrage of texts.

Wonwoo: I will fucking kill you.

Wonwoo: You are dead to me.

Wonwoo: I hope she is at least dating you now, asshole

Wonwoo: You are literally disgusting and I hate you

Joshua runs his thumb over the screen with a smirk as he catches his breath before holding his phone up to get a good angle of you both. Leaning in, he kisses you softly as he takes a few pictures, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shua: [pictures attached]

Shua: Maybe I’ll put a ring on it too.

Wonwoo: 🤢

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

[awritesthings1]

Midnight Interlude

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: You try to convince Tommy, your husband, to come back to sleep.

ao3 link

-

You awoke quietly in the middle of the night, feeling the weight of your slumber resting beneath your eyes. Too tired to lift your eyelids, you shifted in the bed, searching for the comforting cradle of your husband’s arms, only to find the space beside you cold and empty.

Weakly, you opened your eyes to the dark bedroom. Blinking sleepily, you waited for your senses to adjust while attempting to recall if Tommy had mentioned anything about going on a business trip. Your head ached. Where was that Tommy of yours? You weren’t even able to think because your brain was still buzzing from a peculiar dream. Regardless, you were freezing, and without Tommy to keep you warm, you wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. You cursed, pressing a cold hand to your flushed head. Your nose squirmed at the bitter air.

You weren’t sure how many sleepless nights you could endure without your husband. Lately, he had been going on more business trips than usual and staying up late in his office. You went to sleep before him, and by the time you woke up, he was usually already going about his morning. It was if you married a ghost.

The sheets rustled when you swung your feet to the floor. You stretched your arms awake and rolled your neck to the side, receiving a satisfactory pop in return. Wrapping a silk night gown around your body, you left the bedroom, stifling a yawn as you reached his office, where you heard the cackling of candles and the amber hum peeking through from the crack beneath the door. You twisted the nob slowly, careful not to startle Tommy, and entered the room.

“Tommy? You’re still up," you croaked, rubbing at your tired eyes.

Your toes curled as a shiver passed through your body. The wooden floors of your husband’s office were always deathly cold. And where was that ambitious old soul of his? Hunched over his messy desk, squinting through his glasses as he appeared to be reading over a letter. His marble contours were more sunken each night. His thumbs twitched and fiddled with a fountain pen as if they couldn’t bear to do anything but work. The top buttons of his white blouse (that you were always sure to iron the night before) pealed back to reveal a sliver of skin that you would stare at some nights to ensure he didn’t die working himself to death.

You loved him. God, you loved him. You loved him in a way that certainly would disgust the wives from the country houses down the lane. They loved their husbands in a plain and simple way. Margaret had gushed to you about her marriage and how she had fallen into a timely routine with her husband, dancing around the clock until they fell asleep on a wonderfully fluffy mattress. You stuck your tongue in your cheek. That wasn’t love; that was what men told women love was—a choreographed routine. Tommy was different. He loved you hard. Not just because he was a man and that’s what men were supposed to do, but because he lived and breathed everything he did, even if it killed him.

“I need to write something down." Tommy cleared his throat, too distracted to look up from the letter.

If you were any other woman, you would mistake his tone for annoyance. Not you. The hollow under his eyes spoke for him. Your poor husband never knew when to rest. Even when the moonlight poured in from the window and his hands were stained with ink, that mind of his clicked away into a world only accessible to him. It must be a burden, you think, to have the intellect Tommy had—to be three steps in front of everyone else. Talking to the ladies at the country club exhausted you sometimes because all they seemed to care about was the latest silks and décor from an exotic country or babies with chubby cheeks. It had to feel something like that, like sugar rotting your teeth.

“You’ll have time in the morning,” you insisted, leaning against the doorframe and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

The candlelight began to flicker as it neared the end of its wick.

Tommy wet his lips. “I have an early meeting out of town.”

Your shoulders fell. You knew who Tommy was and the priorities he had to balance. His work was important to him, and he did it for his family. That included you, too. But at hours like these, when your nightgown wasn’t enough to keep you warm, you craved the comfort of his arms.

“Come back to sleep,” you whispered, crossing the threshold of the office to stand behind him, where he was hunched over on his chair, writing something down.

Tommy relaxed as you began to massage his shoulders. Those eyes that painted you blue on winter nights fell closed for a moment. His hand itched for his whiskey, resting on the icy glass but never raising it to his lips. Several cigarette butts were discarded on his ash tray, some still puffing smoke. He smelled like a mixture of the two. You remember when you were younger how your nose would scrunch up at the scent of his cigarettes. Now, it was oddly comforting.

“I need to finish writing this letter,” Tommy drawled, reaching for the cigarette case that was buried under a file of papers.

As he pinched one out, you grabbed the match box that had been sitting on the windowsill and struck a match to light it as he perched it between his lips. When the end of it lit up, Tommy took a deep drag.

“You’re a man, Tommy, not a god. You need sleep,” you sighed, squeezing his tensed shoulders.

“Not yet." Smoke escaped his mouth in light puffs as he spoke.

You blinked slowly. “Well, I’m going back to sleep.” It was a half-truth. You were never able to fall asleep after waking up in the middle of the night, especially without Tommy by your side.

Tommy’s rough palm covered your hand, which was resting on his shoulder. He cleared his throat.

“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”

That was never true. Every time Tommy was gone, the room stank of it. His presence consumed Arrow House; it was as if the walls were made from his flesh and bone. And when he was away, it felt like you were living in a stranger’s home. The paintings on the wall were of a random family, and his office sat as if it were abandoned in a hurry. It was only when he returned that the colors bled back into the walls and you realized you were home.

You leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss on his sharp jaw. He inhaled sharply through his nose. You noticed his attention had drifted from the letter and was now focused on the chandelier.

“Where’s that husband of mine? Hm?”

Tommy continued to take large drags from the cigarette while the both of you bathed in the crackling of the dying candlelight. Eventually, it burned out, and Tommy tapped the butt of his cigarette into the ash tray before setting it down to lean back on his chair. Now dark, he let you slip your hand from beneath his as you straightened your back and ran your nails through his scalp.

He groaned deep and nasally, fluttering his eyes closed. The tip of his tongue wet his bottom lip, and when your pupils adjusted to the dark, you saw the cogs in his head shutting off.

“Come back to sleep.”

“Alright,” he nodded with a grunt.

Most women would have said it was a miracle, not your Tommy. There was no holy spirit that possessed him to say yes. He chose to do so on his own account.

You rode that thought with a smile, turning his head to the side so you could lay a kiss on his forehead.

God, you loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

He sighed deeply, blinking lazily at his hands, which rested on his knees, before standing up. Both Tommy and his chair groaned at the movement. You hushed him and walked him to your shared bedroom, hand in hand. There, you carefully unbuttoned his blouse and slid his suspenders down his broad shoulders. Slowly but surely, you undressed him while his tired eyes watched you.

When you were younger, those eyes terrified you the same way a duck feared a rifle. What you never saw was the love they held behind glaciers of blue. Tommy made sure you saw it ever since. The ink on his hands was dry by the time they came to cup your face. His affectionate touch made more than your heart throb, but the both of you were too exhausted to do anything about it.

You settled for a kiss that he pressed against your lips. It wasn’t passionate or hungry like it usually was, but tender and firm. You loved it all the same.

“I love you." His breath settled on your skin like a warm blanket.

You closed your eyes and leaned forward, letting Tommy carry the weight of your head between his hands. You hummed when he brushed his knuckles gingerly across your cheekbones.

“I love you, too. Now, let’s get to bed before the sun rises,” you smiled, blinking up at him.

He kissed the top of your head, winding his tired arms around your frame to hold you against his chest. He hummed agreeably into your hair, letting his eyes flutter shut. Your arms wrapped themselves around his waist as he held you. You treasured small, fleeting moments like this. It wasn’t often that Thomas Shelby left his boots on the office floor and melted into a puddle. You think that made it all the more special. Your Thomas Shelby, the decorated soldier, the family businessman, and the hardened gangster could step away and become your favorite thing—a loving husband.

By the time you had both settled into the bed, the sheets were still warm, and the moon was still out. Tommy was resting on his side, with his arm draped around your waist as he snored lightly into your neck. Outside the window, the wind howled and crashed against the pane like winter waves. You felt none of it. Tommy’s body acted as a heater, protecting you from the numbing chill that waited at the edge of the covers, threatening to nip at your skin. You smiled, nuzzling deeper into his embrace. Here in the cradle of his arms, nothing could touch you.

[r0-boat]

Lucifer headcanons PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS (Maybe what most citizens of hell think of him? And how they and the kings react when mc gets close to him?) PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS

I'm not confident in my Lucifer headcanon's since I wrote that Lucifer breeding fic but heeeeeere hhhhh

Lucifer headcannons

NSFW&SFW

Lucifer was once an angel and as angels the assistance of God they help make humans and devils so it would make sense that Lucifer one of God's most prized angels would know a fair amount of human and devil anatomy.

Perhaps he became Hell's greatest doctor because he felt guilt of how much useless slaughter he and his brothers did. So, instead of killing, he wanted to help. And his subordinates, supportive of his dream, became healers and doctors with him.

However, he is still the demon of pride, and he wants to be your primary care doctor, and he will not sway his will. The Kings really don't fight him on this because, well, he is the right person to trust with your health.

My most favorite headcanon (and probably the least true, to be honest) is that since his fall, he is slowly learning about sex and sexual attraction. And you are playing a heavy hand on corrupting him, and he loves it. He was a pious angel; though not perfect to many of his brethren, he was considered highly regarded. And now look at him, fucking you till you cry in an act so obscene that it would make his brothers weep. Corruption kink Lucifer. Go brrr.

He wants to corrupt you, just like you corrupt him, but how do you corrupt someone who is already sinful filth/affectionate

Lucifer sees you as the perfect partner to try sexual acts with because he trusts you the most, and he likes you. That goes without saying. Unbeknownst to you, Lucifer is a fast learner. Once you teach him how to pleasure you, the next thing you know, he'll be making you writhe and scream.

Lucifer is a little bitey during sex. Especially when he is about to come, he clenches his teeth before to stop himself from sinking his fangs into your neck, but he can't help it. He needs to feel your soft skin in his mouth. His favorite places to bite are your neck and your thighs, other than your tears and your cum,. Your blood is the third favorite taste.

Lucifer is on the more serious side; jokes tend to bounce off his head. Especially ones made by younger devils... So much so that he gets angry when anyone mentions any word he cannot understand.

As the demon of pride it is his way or the highway. He can break any rule he wants but you, less you want to be a brat (please do He likes to punish). You may not break any rules of his.

Lucifer is as caring and gentle as he is strict; your tears frighten him just as much as it arouses him. He doesn't want to see you cry if it's not from pleasure. His gaze will grow soft, his voice deep and gentle, calling you cooing as he wipes away your tears.

He still has that little bit of animosity toward you He knows it is not your fault. He tells you straight up that it's because he is an angel. Even though most of it is mostly gone, he still gets a slight sickly pleasure from making you cry; He can't help it. He's a little bit of a sadist when he comes to you.

Everyone knows what Lucifer's penmanship looks like but no one can fucking read it. It's a mess of This is the most doctor shit you've ever seen. To you it just looks like an L and a squiggle written in a shimmering gold font (expensive fountain pen gift from Mammon)

Mammon likes Lucifer in a sort of "ooh, that man is pretty; never had an angel in my collection before." Where when Lucifer sees Mammon, it's mainly with Satan, so his first reaction is "God damn it not again."

He still calls you child of Adam or child of man And he still apologizes for it.

Lucifer is quite the romantic despite now becoming a devil, he thinks that hellborn devils should learn that sex is much sweeter when the tension is right. Basically his version of "these youngsters are still young SMH"

Lucifer unironically likes Twilight.

Lucifer texts like he is a character AI bot with perfect English and punctuation. Good luck trying to text him back because he knows nothing about text slang.

You annoy him so much and he loves it. You're so cute please keep pissing him off he'll still love you even when he kicks you out. He literally can't stay mad at you.

He's wondering how the fuck are you still alive You've been wondering that yourself all these years. Maybe that's why you so protective over your health now.

Dads you a lot. "You have to eat this finish your food it's healthy. Blah blah blah- too much screen time is bad for your eyes." "Blah blah blah-humans should get at least 8 hours of sleep Go to bed- blah blah blah." "Stop eating shitty foods and actually cook a decent meal-blah blah blah." at this point, calling him Daddy is becoming less of a joke.

Also Lucifer: buys you chocolates, takes you to fancy dinners.

Lucifer hates being called Daddy. And he hates that he's starting to like it; please stop.

[gyllenhaalstories]

FETISH — RUSTY SABICH

summary: something something you needed a job and raymond offered you to work at the office. something something there is a misunderstanding and you pique rusty's curiosity.

warnings: this story happens before the events of presumed innocent so rusty is still a prosecutor, includes tommy molto (with mentions of barbara, carolyn, nico & raymond), sexual harassment, cheating, smut (masturbation, underwear smelling). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 3360

gif credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: raymond is the star of this fic and so is @sizzlingcloudmentality's idea that saved this story 📂 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

You were thankful for Raymond Horgan. He considered you as his niece, he had helped you more times than you could remember. He bought you the biggest dollhouse you could dream of when you were a child, he set an absurd amount of money aside for your education and now he had offered you a job most law students of Chicago could never even dream of. Most of the time, you were thankful for Raymond.

"So, let met get this right... You found the file in a recycling bin?" Tommy's voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard. The twisted grin glued to his face sent a shiver down your spine.

You were not thankful for Raymond at this precise moment. He left you all alone to answer his phone calls while everyone in the office had left to enjoy their weekend. You assumed that no one would care to call the district attorneys on a Friday afternoon. No. Evening. The sun had started setting, you did not even see the day go by. You assumed that no one would bother, but Raymond had never been more popular. "For the third time, yes, I found the documents in the bin and I thought it was important material so I grabbed it before the janitors did. If I had known, I would not have touched it. I can assure you of that, Tommy."

"Mister Molto," he rectified, he pursed his lips. "It's Mister Molto for you."

"Since when are you so passionate about recycling, Mister Molto?" You spat out his name with disgust. There was just something about Tommy. Everyone in the office had been pleasant, you had no trouble believing that Raymond knocked on each door and instructed them to treat you with the upmost respect. Everyone listened, except Tommy.

Tommy's gaze fell on your hand, he watched you tap your fountain pen on the notepad nervously. You were always so nervous in his presence, surely this must mean you liked him. You liked him but you were too shy to admit it. "What did you do with the documents?"

You grabbed your notepad, imitating your every action. Maybe, you thought, the man would understand better if you gave him the visuals. You explained how you pulled the file out of the bin and set it down exactly where Tommy had found it: on Nico Della Guardia's desk. You assumed he would know better than you what to do with it, but Tommy had the reflexes of a cat and snitched the papers before anyone else could see them. "Is it more clear now? Do you want me to tell you the whole story again for the fourth time?"

You were making an excuse to talk to him longer. He found it endearing. His thin lips curled into a smile, he shook his head. He looked down at the file he gripped on tightly, so tightly that the sweat of his palm began to warp the material. "In this office, we value being thorough..." The phone rang, cutting his lecture off. Tommy looked down again. He recognized the code written on the file, he even recognized the handwriting. It was from a case Carolyn Polhemus had worked on with Rusty Sabich.

You exhaled dramatically and let the phone ring three times before picking it up. You repeated your greeting like a robot, expecting the caller to insist you made Raymond magically appear so they could talk to him.

"It's you." A familiar voice resonated through the phone. Rusty was calling. "Hi." You could practically hear him smile. "I was just wondering if you saw my stapler anywhere. Ray always steals it, and..."

"We also value respect around here." Tommy pulled your attention back to you, annoyed that you picked up the phone without excusing yourself. "Anyway." Another grin, another wave of shivers. He rambled about how you should stick to your tasks, how you would be a better secretary if you did not go snooping around people's trash. Apparently, he could not even begin to comprehend the concept of a simple mistake.

You narrowed your eyes while he continued his monologue. You could not believe what your left ear heard, as your right ear burned against the phone while it perceived words about Raymond's kleptomaniac's tendencies regarding office supplies. You tried to breathe through your nose to calm down. Overwhelmed. Overstimulated. You wanted this day to be over.

"Am I disturbing something? I'm sorry, I didn't want to bother..." Rusty frowned, trying to recognize the other voice he heard. He could not see the scene, but he started to imagine the agitation. "Who's with you?"

Tommy's expression faded into a dark one. Annoyance, perhaps. You could not read him well and you certainly did not want to. He gave you... Ick. There was something else, a spark in his eyes that made you swallow a knot of nerves stuck in your throat. "Evidence from a trial is not to be messed with. I hope you learned your lesson. Or maybe... You wanted to see me. So we could have a little talk just the two of us. And the problem is that you can't keep your hands to yourself, can you?"

You scoffed. "That's inappropriate." Tommy was not annoyed. He was aroused. There was a double meaning to his words that made you sick to your stomach. He lost no time defending himself, hiding behind his inflated ego to justify how his comment was perfectly normal.

Rusty had trouble discerning a single thing from the word vomit that fell out of his colleague's mouth. He tried to inquire about what was happening in vain. He had to pull the handset away from his ear, Tommy and you argued in full volume. However, Rusty heard one thing before you violently hung up the phone, forcing it back into the receptacle. He remained unsure of who you directed your rage-filled words to.

"Go fuck yourself!"

*~*~*

"Go fuck yourself! Go fuck yourself! Go fuck yourself!"

The sound of your voice echoed in Rusty's mind. It had been all he could think about. He was fixated. Obsessed.

He replayed the scene over and over again. By now, he understood you spat these words out at Tommy.

Rusty spat on his hand, squeezing it around his cock that he pumped to full hardness.

You sounded like a broken record in his head. By now, he still did not understand why these words had such an effect on him.

His left hand dived into the teal laundry basket, feeling around. He pulled out the towel he used after his session on the treadmill earlier. He also pulled out a bunched up piece of black fabric. The plastic basket was roughly pushed to the side before Rusty flattened the towel on the counter. His right hand moved up and down on his cock, he was desperate for some relief.

You spent so much time with Tommy. Too much time. Why? Why did you spend time with Tommy? All the small talk by the coffee machine or the elevator. Why was Tommy going down in the elevator with you? Why was it always him?

Rusty pulled his hand away from his cock that twitched. He looked down at the counter, grabbing a clothespin to fidget with. He was thankful there was a window before him and not a mirror.

A pathetic sight.

He pulled his sweatpants down below his ass, a drop of precum even left a wet stain on the front. His cock throbbed with the desire to be touched again. His thoughts fought an unfair race.

He wanted to think of you.

But he was thinking of Tommy. Of his jealousy towards Tommy. He could not see straight. Rusty was too blinded by his insatiable lust to remember all of the times he caught you grimacing after Tommy walked away, flinching when Tommy initiated physical contact with a squeeze of your shoulder or a pat on your lower back. You hated Tommy. Rusty hated Tommy.

"Go fuck yourself!"

You resisted Tommy. Why were you not resisting him? Why were you always so pleasant and nice with him? Rusty remained charming and resourceful. When it came to working his way through a case or helping you with a task Raymond gave you that seemed way above your skill set, he was the smartest guy in the room.

Rusty was stupid for wanting to think of you.

He dropped the wooden clothespin on the counter and proceeded to continue. His dominant hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his long fingers grazed over his balls. His left hand brushed over the bunched up fabric. Clumsily, he unfolded it and it revealed to be a pair of panties.

He should think of Barbara.

He brought the panties up to his nose. He brought his hand up to his tip. That would work. That usually worked. It had not worked for a long time, but... But it had to work right now.

He inhaled her scent and he moaned. "Good. Keep going." He traced his fingertip over his slit, smearing the precum over it while he relaxed. He closed his eyes, images of Barbara flashed. His face buried in the crook of her neck, his eyes blinded by the black curls of her hair, his hands squeezing on the soft flesh of her ass. He kept going. He kept thinking of Barbara.

Barbara's features started to morph with yours. He imagined your smile. He imagined your curves. He imagined the sound of your voice moaning his name.

"Fuck!" Rusty shouted. His thin upper lip curled in frustration. His face twisted with anger towards himself while his mind became a mosaic crafted with the memories he had of you.

He barely had anything. It was all office related. It was all Raymond related. It was all Tommy related. He barely had any memory alone with you. You should tell him to go fuck himself. You should push him away. You should resist him. Resist. Resist. Resist.

He needed to resist you.

He wrapped Barbara's panties around his cock and he used them to jerk off. His shoulders loosened up. The fabric dragged over his cock, a familiar sensation that used to make him climax effortlessly. Just the thought of it would make him hard.

Like a fetish. His wife's panties used to work like magic. It could work again. He needed it to work again.

He threw his head back, his eyes fluttered close. "That's it, that's it. Feels so fucking good..." He mumbled. His hand and the panties blurred together while he stroked himself hard and fast. He fought the frustration with pathetic desperation. You appeared in his mind again.

Like a fetish. He could not get rid of his thoughts of you. A fixation. An obsession.

Rusty tightened the grip on his cock. The panties got bunched up at the base, caressing his sack deliciously while he focused on his leaking tip. His breath came in short gasps. He felt so close.

His balls tightened, his orgasm imminent. He propped himself up a bit on the tip of his toes. Just high enough. Quick strokes. Tight quick strokes.

Would you jerk him off this way if he begged you to? Did you even think about jerking him off? Or would you tell him to go fuck himself?

He groaned, he fought the urge to close his eyes so he could aim at the towel.

Did you ever think about the two of you fucking? On his desk. Against the wall. On the floor. He did. He thought about it many times. A fixation. An obsession.

"Fuck yes!" He cried out when he spilled all over the towel. His entire body tensed up. Ropes of white cum painted the navy blue towel. It felt so good to cum for you. It would feel even better to cum inside of you.

He slowed the movements of his hand and squeezed the remaining of his release on the cumrag. He set his feet flat again, his chest heaved while he panted.

For a moment, a moment that did not last long enough, his mind seemed blank. No imagery, no thought. A void. It was peaceful, but volatile.

He opened the door of the washing machine and threw in his cumrag and Barbara's underwear after he wiped his cock clean with them. He added the rest of the dirty laundry and poured a generous amount of detergent with the hope it would wash away what happened.

Rusty noticed a spurt of his cum squirted on the counter top. He grabbed the small tissue box and wiped it clean. He shook his head, unsatisfied. He rummaged through the cabinet and found cleaning wipes. He dragged the wipe over the counter with force until it started to tear up.

He looked out at the window. Rained poured outside, the clouds looked menacing. A bad omen.

Later, he would tell himself this was inoffensive. He could be very convincing, very persuasive. He would make himself believe this was not harmful. He used Barbara's panties. He finished on a cumrag. How could it be harmful if he did not even touch you?

He never touched you. He needed to touch you.

He would fixate on you. He would obsess over you until you granted him the privilege to touch you.

*~*~*

Exactly a week after the incident, you returned to the office with Raymond. He handed you a box, the type of boxes they used to store files. He had already found you another place to work in a less anxiety inducing setting. He reassured you that your departure would not inconvenient you in the future. He also mumbled something about how he would like to have a word with Fuck-Thing One and Fuck-Thing Two. You figured who carried these endearing pet names.

Rusty came into work every morning this week with the hope of bumping into you. Nobody had warned him about how you had been strongly advised to quit. He could tell Raymond was grumpy and Tommy was annoyed. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You leaned the box on your hip and put in the few belongings you had brought to Raymond's office. A set of highlighters with two missing colours, a box of cookies that only had a sleeve left in it, a pad of sticky notes with a smiley face scribbled on it. It felt as though you had never even walked up those infamous stairs in front of the building. You assumed everyone would forget about your short employment, like you had never worked here at all. You gave the stuffy room one last look before you closed the door behind you.

There was nothing out of the ordinary except for the knock on his door during lunch break despite it being wide open. "Come in." He invited you after you waited patiently outside. A patience he could not reciprocate. Not around you.

"Hi, Sir." You took a couple of steps in his office while the man leaned back on his chair, spinning slowly from left to right.

"Screw that." He brushed the formalities away with his hand. "No Sir or Mister with me. Didn't I tell you this on your first day?"

And on your last day too.

His eyes glanced from your beautiful face to what you carried in your arms. "Box full of stuff. That's bad news." Rusty's enthusiastic smile faded. He had waited so long to see you and now you were going away. Bad news indeed.

"Bad? Depends for who." You chuckled dryly. "I'm happy to get away from him."

Rusty nodded, acknowledging what you referred to. "Office gossip. It goes around." You arched a curious brow. "Rumour has it he's not happy."

You laughed, this time more genuinely. You looked at the content of the box, remembering what you came here for. You set the box down on a chair across Rusty's desk and you pulled out the stapler he asked for the other day. "Better late than never."

He stretched an arm across his desk to grab it, his fingers brushed against yours. He wondered if you felt the shock that went through his hand when your skin touched his. Sparks? Probably just static electricity. Rusty tilted his head back to look at you.

"I didn't come here for the stapler... Ray definitely stole it. He always steals things. He says it's endearing, it means he loves you. In my opinion, he probably thinks everything is free real estate." You reacted to your own amusing comment.

Oh how Rusty loved the sound of your laughter. Tommy would be jealous of him if he knew how many times he heard it, how many times he made you laugh.

"You've been working with Ray for how long?" Rusty opened his mouth to tell you the number of years, but you cut him off. "A hundred years or something? And you didn't know that! Wow." You clicked your tongue, mocking him like you truly disapproved of his ignorance.

His smirk turned into a frown of confusion when you quickly switched the topic.

"I came here to apologize for lashing out at you the other day. I was yelling at Tommy, not you. But yeah, I just wanted to say sorry. And goodbye."

"Don't even worry about it." He held his hands on his thighs. "I figured you weren't talk to me. One way or another... You would have ended up telling me to fuck off anyway."

You reacted to his words, squinting your eyes while trying to figure out what he meant. While Tommy had been nothing but a pain in the ass, Rusty revealed himself as one of the nicest people you met in the office. He brought you a cup of coffee, remembered how you preferred it. He paid for yours and Raymond's lunches so he could tag along. You smiled to yourself, remembering your stressful first day and the way it took the two of you to fix the printer by getting a scrunched sheet of paper unstuck.

Rusty caught that small smile of yours and he mirrored your expression. Silence lingered in the office one moment too long. His gaze lingered on you one moment too long as well. He swallowed thickly and fixed his tie back in his vest.

"Well..." You put the lid on the almost empty box and picked it up. You turned on your heels and headed in direction of the glass door.

Rusty was not ready to watch you leave just yet. "Got anything lined up? I can write you good references if you need. Whatever you need." His voice dropped to a whisper with the last three words.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine, but I appreciate the offer." You explained what Raymond did, The old man called up a few connections, offering a round of beers at the bar as a thank you for the special treatment. "Although I'll have to work on my language, or so I've been told." You rolled your eyes playfully.

Rusty did not understand why it had been such an issue. He would have lost his job a long time ago on the basis of telling people to fuck off one too many times.

"Whatever that new place is, I'm just happy that it's Tommy Molto-free."

"I'll... We. I mean we'll miss having you around!" Rusty slipped up, his nostrils flaring while he inhaled deeply to try and dissipate the potential awkwardness.

You answered that you had a good time, that you appreciated his help. It felt so good to hear these words of praise from you.

"You know, after a while... I'm sure you'll end up missing Tommy too."

You basically cackled at his words, now stepping out of the glass door. "Oh, fuck you, Rusty."

"Fuck me?" He raised his voice so you could hear him loud and clear.

You remained immobile to let him finish.

"Is that a threat?" He pulled his glasses off in one swift motion and let them fall on his desk covered in scattered papers. "Or a promise?"

[lavandulawrites]

plzz.. yandere sunday x reader 🙏🙏🙏

A Crimson Dream

Yandere Sunday x reader

Sunday is truly an interesting character. I absolutely adore his eerie vibe.

Masterlist

Warnings: Imprisoned reader, manipulative Sunday, severed limb (not reader’s nor Sunday’s)

Word count: 892

The parlour was dimly lit except for some candles and the exquisite decorated fireplace. The book in your hand had long become boring. You casted a glance across the lavish room. By a perfectly polished mahogany desk, sat Sunday. His face bore a concerted expression. His brows furrowed in a delicate frown as his long fingers gripping a violet fountain pen to the point of almost breaking. He was truly beautiful.

You watched him silently as he wrote. He was a man of elegance, his every movement fluid and planned. “My dare dove, I am so very flattered that you have taken your time to observe me for 15 minutes, but do you not think you should continue reading?” his honeyed voice snapped you out of your little trance.

You swallowed. “I suppose so.”

His yellow eyes found yours. “I think it is time for a break for the both of us” he rose from his chair and made his way over to your seat with long and elegant steps. He placed his gloved hand in front of you and smiled so very sweetly.

His grip on your hand was tight as you walked towards the dining hall. He gave you small glances, while he maintained his graceful demeanour.

A servant opened up the grand doors upon your arrival, with a deep bow.

He leaded you to your designated seating and held out your chair. “I got the chef to prepare something extra exquisite today my dear” he smiled as he took his seat. You interest picked at his statement.

“I can’t wait” you smiled. He had told you the very day that he had you taken to his mansion that you were expected to follow his rules. Which contained of you talking to him with respect.

His pale lips pulled up into a smile. The wings behind his ears fluttered.

You turned your attention to the crystal wine glass filled with blood red wine. The wine reflected your expression. Your eyes had become slightly duller since you had been taken to Sunday’s residence.

The door to the kitchen suddenly opened, which startled you greatly. Sunday chuckled at your reaction. Where it not for his eerie eyes and the unreadable expression of his, the sound would be akin to a gift bestowed upon your pitiful ears from the gods.

A silver dish with a nightingale engraved cloche where sat in front of you. A identical one where placed in front of Sunday. The chef bowed with his hand on his back “I hope it is to your tastes.”

“Oh I am sure it is. Thank you” Sunday smiled. With a wave of his hand he dismissed all the servants, as well as the chef. His gloves where no where to be seen as he lifted the lid of his dish. A delicate arranged lamb dish. “It smells lovely” Sunday hummed as he inhaled the scent.

You extended your arm in order to lift the lid. With a slightly shaky hand, you lifted the lid. Why was your hand shaking?

No.

No this can’t be.

On a blank silver plate in a bed of the greenest lettuce, laid the head of your former boyfriend. His green eyes staring blankly at yours. His brown hair where styled in a perfect sliced back hair style, giving him the appearance of a aristocrat. Which was the opposite of the man you knew. In his mouth were a white rose tainted by blood.

You screamed and pushed your chair back. Your heart hammered in your chest. You could feel bile rising up in your throat.

“What is the matter, love?” Sunday patted his mouth with a clothed napkin. “Do you not like it? I had the chef prefer it especially for you” he tilted his head with a soft smile. His voice as soft as the feathers off his wings.

“How… how could you?” your voice shaky as you furiously tried to blink away tears. The grey haired man looked at you with a intense expression.

“Do you not understand? He was once a hindrance, a disturbance of the harmony” his lips twisted into a eerie smile. “But I rid the world of the disturbance in order to create peace and harmony. For you.”

He rose from his chair and stalked his way over to your seat with determined, but fluid steps. “You are too innocent for this world, too kind. He was a distraction from my love” his golden eyes filled with nothing but obsession and insanity.

Tears rolled down the apple of your cheeks, creating wet rivers. He crunched in front of you and took your hand in his. “Do not cry my dear. Everything is okay now. I will protect you and give you happiness and love” his smile never leaving his expression. A cold hand wiped away your tears so tenderly it almost made you cry more. “Should someone ever try to take you away, I will burn this planet to the ground” his tone smooth “Would it not be beautiful with the sea running red of blood from all of our fiends?” His lips gently kissed your cheek. “Just you wait my dear, we will create a new beautiful world, which will exceed all the dreams one could possibly imagine.”

“Just stay here with me and no harm should come upon you”

[writingficsanddaydreams]

His Eyes

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: you may dislike eye contact, but that doesn’t make his eyes any less mesmerizing

Content: some fluff, a little romance. They’re on a mission. Reader is autistic.

A/N: this is a shorter piece, just a snippet of an idea really, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So now I’m making you all think about it too! Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality, and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago.

—————————————

Dracule Mihawk. A great warlord of sea. A man so powerful that his very presence makes others stop and step back wherever he goes, who can freeze a person in place with just his intense, piercing gaze.

You love his gaze.

You love the color of his eyes, the way that lantern light plays across the striking yellow, bringing out those hints of gold. You love the shape of them, the way his eyebrows furrow, that little line that forms above his nose when he’s so focused. You love how he can seem to command a room with his gaze alone.

His eyes are mesmerizing.

“How is it you can stare at me, yet request I avoid the same?”

His words send a shiver through you, one that strengthens as he turns that gaze briefly your way. His arm is is draped carefully across the back of the tavern booth, his fingers just brushing your shoulder.

You shrug and smile—just a little smile, the one you practiced because you know it secretly makes him pleased, even if smiling doesn’t come naturally to you.

“It’s not like I command you,” you tease, even as you draw your knees closer to your chest to better balance your sketchbook and lean slightly into him. You like sitting like this, both because it lets you naturally look away when he does decide to stare at you, and because you love the feeling of his nearness as you lean slightly into his side.

“Hmm.” He turns his gaze away. You quickly peak up at him and are pleased to see the slightest twitch to his own lips, a hint of his own smile.

He’ll never show it, not here in this tavern where every other person subtly watches him. But it’s there, and you’ve enjoyed drawing it out of him since you started working together as temporary partners. Especially since you started to be something more…

You turn back to your own work, drawing your fountain pen across the thick sketchbook paper.

A line here. A small adjustment there. You let yourself fall into the art, even as you listen to the conversations murmuring around you.

The din of voices can be overwhelming at times, painful even when so many noises echo together, but useful. You’ve learned ways to manage it, found tools to let you block out the sound when it’s too much and learned how to sort through the sounds when you do have the energy for it.  Now you sit and listen, letting your art pull you slightly away from it all, even as snippets of conversation come and go.

“…can’t believe that seller cheated me! I…”

“…Mihawk here…?”

“…will drink you under the table…”

“…think Garp sent him? Does he know we…”

You still your pen, glancing only slightly up from the page. That conversation was from not too far away. The targets.

“You noticed them too,” comments Mihawk, in that eternally bored, yet oh so confident tone.

“What now?” you ask, turning your gaze back to your sketchbook. “Capture them here or flush them out?”

If you were working alone, you would probably wait for them to leave on their own, then follow them and complete the mission once away from all the noise and bustle of the tavern. But it’s fun to work Mihawk’s way as well, to see just what it is that makes him so simultaneously feared and respected. You find it fascinating how he toys with his targets at times, as if a job is simply a game to him. 

“It has been quiet lately. A chase might be entertaining.”

You grin, even as you carefully try to capture a slight shimmer of light in your sketch. 

This is the part you find so fascinating.

The way he can inspire or horrify people with just a glance. The way he moves so carefully and intentionally through his work, even as he sometimes treats it as a way to relieve the boredom of being truly the best. The way he knows how good he is, knows his power and wears it like a cloak.

You know the moment he turns his gaze from a casual analysis of the room to a hunter spotting its prey. 

It’s in the slight gasps as that muted conversation staggers to a halt. The sharp sense of fear that drifts through the tavern. The way Mihawk’s intense gaze cuts straight through the crowded tables and towards the targets, even as everyone else breathes in relief that it’s not aimed at them.

You’ve done this just enough times now to know that soon your targets will try to leave, try to flee.

Then it will be time to act.

For now though, you enjoy leaning into your warlord, carefully drawing your pen across a sketchbook page as you capture the dangerous beauty of his vivid eyes.

[misted-dream]

♟️ between heaven and hell ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ bodyguard!winwin x fem!reader ➛ part of the mad city series | go to district V

content | smut, sprinkle of angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, forbidden love but not really, forced proximity, a little bit of miscommunication, yn is mentioned to be shorter than winwin, slow burn?, winwin is kinda a dick at first

warnings | fingering, profanity, mentions of food, mentions of a shooting

word count | 18k

synopsis | being born into a repulsive fortune, your life is threatened more often than not. you’ve grown less and less affected by it throughout the years. however, as the day where you take on your father’s much coveted title looms nearer and nearer, more frequent and dangerous threats draw in. with all the money in the world, is it enough to buy trust?

note | ln stands for last name since yn is addressed by her last name quite a bit in this. the ending is a little bit rushed, pls excuse that and ignore the fact that this basically takes place in a week. what is pacing, idk.

tags @90s-belladonna thank you for supporting me!

a smattering of rain hits against the arched window pane of the library, filling the room with a soft pitter-patter. usually, from where you are seated, you can look directly into the well-kept and always blossoming garden. now, it’s too dark for you to make out anything but the slightest silhouette of your father’s treasured magnolia tree.

“miss ln?”

you direct your attention away from the book in your hands, and towards the library entrance that you had your back to.

“your father would like to speak with you.”

this late? you thought.

“thank you, priscilla,” you smile and your housemaid dismisses herself with a gentle nod. you glide your extended legs off of the couch and set down your book next to you on the velvet material of the sofa. sliding on your slippers, you make your way out of the library, softly close the door behind you, and amble along the long hallways and down the staircase leading to your father’s office.

you knock twice on the thick wooden doors painted in a pristine white. "come in," your father calls out. you apply pressure to the metal handle, cold to the touch, and the hinges creak slightly.

you greet your father, sat in his usual spot in the middle of the office with a floor-to-ceiling window to his back. then, something else catches your attention. a tall, backlit figure stands broadly next to your father. the room is illuminated by the moonlight and a gold accented lamp in the far corner, barely enough light to see 3 feet out in front of you clearly.

“yn,” your father addresses you faintly. you instinctively go to pull out one of the two leather seats tucked under the large, hand-carved wooden desk, its’ surface littered with documents and fountain pens. as you take a seat, your father begins, “as you know, your succession is planned for a little over a week, if all goes well. taking into account the latest incident, i have decided to take preventative measures to ensure no more dangers come to you during the lead-up.” your father pauses, his palm opens to gesture towards the man standing beside him. “this will be your new personal guard,” the man steps forward, “dong sicheng.”

confusion evidently sits upon your face. you want to flat out ask, ‘why do i need a bodyguard?’ but you bite back your tongue, trying to come up with a more eloquent and precise prod.

the man doesn’t reach his hand out, as you would expect, to introduce himself. he simply voices, “miss ln,” with a curt nod of his head.

you pull your eyes away from your new bodyguard, you still can’t make out too much of what he looks like. “father, i already have personal guards,” you state matter of factly.

“of course,” your father leans back into his chair. “but none of them are with you 24/7. sicheng will be, ensuring no harm comes your way.”

unbelievable. on the surface, it seems like he truly wants you under protection, but you understand your father’s schemes; you understand your father more than anyone else. what he’s really saying is that he has hired this man—dong sicheng—so that you will be put on his watchlist.

your father smiles a gentle smile. “but,” at the very first sound of a protest, the corners of his mouth begins to droop, “if this is about last time—”

with a firm shake of his head, your father cuts you off. “this isn’t negotiable, yn.”

normally, when you would argue things to be your way, your father would at least hear what you have to say. so, to be cut off so bluntly... a pang of helplessness strikes you square in the chest, and your eyes divert towards your new guard.

“i recommend you use your time to get adjusted to this change,” with that, your father dismisses the both of you out of his office.

you shuffle out into the cold, sterile hallways. marble pillars line the walls with ornate sconces attached upon them, each bearing a flickering candle. besides just hearing the firm footsteps of someone else tailing right behind you, you can also feel an almost omniscient presence shadowing you. swiftly, you spin around on your heels only to be met eye level with someone's chest. your guard's. you have to angle your head upwards so that you can look into his eyes; he seems to purposefully ignore your gaze, staring straight at one of the pillars opposite him.

he's undeniably gorgeous. the hallways are more lit up than your father's study, allowing you to examine every detail of your guard's face.

you wait a few seconds before breaking the silence, "are you not going to say anything?"

he drops his focus onto you. coldly, he replies, "that's not what i'm paid to do, miss." he lets his eyes linger on you for a moment longer, before returning to look at nothing.

he can tell that you're clearly annoyed by his response, but he makes no show of it. you continue, "if you're not even going to look at me, how are you going to protect me?"

"is there something i need to protect you from in your own home, miss ln?"

he knows. at least he's alluding to knowing about your last little incident. you curse yourself for being careless in your head. if you hadn't caused a ruckus when you snuck home a few nights ago, you wouldn't have this bizarrely handsome, yet callous man looming over you until your father sees a reason to think otherwise.

"no, i suppose not."

you turn around once more, facing the rest of the hallway. an archway leads to a stately staircase at the end of the corridor. you walk down the hall, trying to dismiss the delayed footsteps behind you, and enter through the archway. the staircase spirals upwards into the corridor connecting the bedrooms; yours and your father's. of course, there are other rooms upstairs, such as the library, the games room, other rooms that you don't concern yourself with too much. a grand piano sits in the centre of the spiralling staircase, its' glossy surface lit up by the moonshine flooding inside through the domed skylight.

you proceed up the stairs, not expecting your bodyguard to follow you up, but he does.

you pause, and look back around for the second time now in the span of less than 10 minutes.

"there aren't guest rooms upstairs," you point out flatly.

he responds, meeting your coldness with his own but only 10 times more intensified, "i won't be requiring one."

puzzled, you ask, "you're not going to be sleeping in my room, are you?" half jokingly, half serious.

"miss ln," he takes one step up on the staircase so that he's at the same level as you, forcing you to tilt your head upwards at him. the heels of his shoes echo loudly on impact against the quartz steps. "there are boundaries i must follow in my duties. so whilst i won't be requiring my own room, i also know not to overstep into your privacy." he scans your face, looking for any hint of understanding. then, he adds plainly, "i will be guarding your bedroom door outside. you can rest assured."

you can feel a sly smirk creeping up onto your face, "shame. here i was thinking that you would follow me everywhere. speaking of," you make an exaggerated movement out of looking down at the watch on your wrist. "i should better shower; it's getting late."

sicheng's face is unfazed but still, you simper, looking pleased with yourself.

he stalks behind you wordlessly as you make the rest of your way up to your bedroom. and sure enough, he stops and stands outside to the right of your door.

"you can't be serious," the thought in your head slips out through your lips.

he doesn't look back. "i'm afraid your father is a vey serious man, miss ln."

how does father expect this man to stand outside of your room all night long? assuming he doesn't sleep, given the 24/7 hour-ness as mentioned in your father's spiel, how will he even have to energy to do his job?

you study the profile of his back for a few seconds before pushing your door closer to the frame, not completely shutting it.

your bedroom connects to an en suite bathroom. to say it's grand is underplaying the extent of luxury which you live in. the room is unnecessarily spacious with marble counters and a tall ceiling with intricately moulded details. a round bathtub sits in the centre, integrated directly into a gazebo-like fixture. a golden chandelier hangs overhead the bathtub, softly lighting up the room, creating a warm atmosphere. to the right side of the tub, facing across from the mirror and the sink, stands a shower area enclosed by frosted glass doors.

you reach for your zipper on the nape of your neck. you slide your thumb underneath the metal tab and begin to pull it down between your fingers. it budges an inch or two before it gets caught onto the fabric of your dress. "ugh," you vocalise. forcibly, you attempt to get the zipper unstuck, tugging and tugging but it won't shift.

you can only think of one solution.

"uh," you call out loud enough so that your bodyguard outside is sure to hear you. you're not quite sure how you should address him; calling him by his name feels weirdly a bit too intimate.

putting you out of your misery, he responds, "yes?" from outside in the halls.

"could you... come in?"

there's a break before he answers back to you. "i'm afraid that's unbecoming of me unless there's an emergency, miss ln."

you roll your eyes, despite knowing he's not there to see. "there is an emergency. will you come in now?"

"...are you decent?" he seems to contemplate his words carefully.

"god, you're frustrating," you blurt out, "yes, i'm decent- who do you think i am?"

there's a brief pause in time before you hear footsteps step into your bedroom. you can see him stop in front of your bathroom doorway in your peripheral.

you look over at him, standing tall and poised with his hands clasped in front of him. "what's the emergency, miss?"

turning your back against him, you sweep your hair over your shoulders, baring your zipper. "i can't get this unstuck."

he doesn't take any steps towards you, "and you needed me to come in for this?"

your patience grows thinner and thinner by the second. "if i could've got it myself, i wouldn't have called for you, would i?"

with this, he takes one... two... and three steps. just three steps before he's in reach of you. you can feel a warmth draw closer to you. turning your head towards your shoulder, you can see him standing behind you in the mirror. without knowing, you hold your breath. he goes to pull gingerly with one hand on the back neckline of your dress, the other trying to unwedge the fabric jammed underneath the zipper. he frees the tab and smoothly, he unzips you down to the middle of your back, stopping himself from releasing the zip all the way down. immediately, he drops his head and removes his hands from your dress while simultaneously taking a large step back from you.

"if that's all, i will leave you to rest for tonight, miss ln." his head is still angled downwards, eyes glued to the bathroom tiling.

you mutter, "thank you," finally taking in a breath again.

he nods, and begins to step backwards out of the bathroom. before he disappears completely from your field of vision, he is stopped by your expulsion of an 'um.'

without a word, he waits for what you have next to say. turning around to face him, he lifts his head and meets your eyes, still as emotionless as they were when you two were on the stairs.

"goodnight, sicheng."

you can see his chest rise, and fall before he speaks again. "goodnight, miss ln."

there's gentle thumping at the door but you can't be sure. your head and senses are foggy from sleep. your eyelids remain shut, trying to phase out the knocking.

"miss ln?"

for a brief moment, you don't recognise the voice calling out for your name. it is much deeper than the normal voice of your housemaid. your eyes open to a squint to see the morning sun rays surging into your room through the mesh veil of your curtains. another part of the garden can be seen through the windows to the right of your bed.

"miss ln?" sicheng calls out again.

"yes?" groggily, you answer as you push yourself up, propping your back against the cushioned headboard.

"your housemaid informs me that you have errands to run today."

your head snaps, remembering what today is. the gala.

he continues speaking, "i tried to send some of my men to help carry out your errands for you instead, but i was told to get your permission."

you manoeuvre out of your bed, tossing the throw blanket off of you. heading directly for the double doors, you swing them open to find dong sicheng standing right outside with his arms behind him, his head bowed. the sudden movement causes him to jolt his head upwards.

"no, i'll go," you scan him quickly up and down. he's dressed in the exact same outfit as last night, hair still combed over only a bit more disheveled. you want to ask if he really stood outside of your room while you slept throughout the whole night, but you know what he will say. your father never made promises he can't follow up on, mainly because it was never him personally who fulfilled his promises.

sicheng, looking caught offguard for the first time quickly steels his face back again into his trademark stoicness. "then, i shall accompany you." he gives your get-up one swift look down, then back up. "i'm ready whenever you are."

feeling only slightly annoyed at his gesture, you close the door on him and go to get dressed.

...

sicheng sits next to you in the car. the driver in front seems to pay no attention to his presence. you glance over, trying to make your staring not as conspicuous, but to no avail. his posture is perfectly upright and his hair looks more groomed than when he was stood outside your bedroom door.

"do i look to your standard, miss ln?" it's only when he finishes asking his question that he meets your gaze. it's clear in that moment that he didn't expect an answer to his rhetorical question.

feeling only slightly embarrassed, you lower you eyebrows at him, "do you remember last night when you said you don't get paid to talk?" feigning curiosity with your head tilted to the side.

the slightest smile breaks on his face. "very well," eyes diverting away from you and onto the road out in front through the windshield.

the rest of the ride is silent, which your chauffeur took as a sign to turn on the radio. the first piece that blares out ever so softly is liebestraum no. 3.

the car then comes to a halt in front of a private wine bar. sicheng opens his door and holds onto the handle as he waits for you to shuffle out behind him. then, he shuts it and waves the driver off to a direction. you readjust your outfit from having been sat down.

carefully, you traipse your way towards the entrance of the wine bar, being deliberate to not place a heel down in between the crevices of the cobblestone that lined the courtyard.

"i'm surprised you haven't voiced your displeasure for me going out of the house, yet," you remark, "surely, my father told you i was not to be let out."

for having been against the idea of having a bodyguard just yesterday, you seem to have grown rather used to having sicheng around you rather quickly. you can only hope that he doesn't pick up on this.

"not to be let out without protection, yes."

he's quick on the draw. you pause right in front of the heavy mahogany door, the top of it curved inwards to a sharp point. your eyes gloss over the coffee brown grain pattern before you place a palm onto it and push inwards.

...

it's been a few hours since you've arrived back home from the wine bar, having picked out the perfect gift for the gala host tonight. sunset falls upon the horizon and that's your cue to start getting ready.

you've always had a habit of putting on your makeup by yourself as opposed to having someone else do it for you. however, that habit doesn't carry over to styling your hair.

you're sat in front of a full length mirror, a baroque style detailing frames the entirety of it. priscilla, one of the housemaids who's similar in age to you, stands behind you, attentively pinning the hair in the back of your head into a detailed updo. you look at your dress in the mirror. the square neckline makes space for your freshwater pearl necklace that glows softly against your skin.

"and... all done," priscilla announces.

you turn your head in the mirror to get a better view of her work, "it's a beautiful job." you stand from your seat, catching her eyes in the reflection, "thank you."

she smiles brightly, her youth glints in her eyes. "here," she looks to the side to grab a pair of long silk gloves, holding it out to you. you pull them over your left hand all the way up to your elbow, then your right, struggling a little over the bandage wrapped around your palm.

after tucking your purse in between your arm and your ribs, you're ready to head out.

sicheng is already in the foyer, waiting for you. when your heels first click against the quartz stairs, his eyes darts toward you at the top of the spiralled staircase. you delicately place a hand on the iron banister and as you make your way down the steps, you glide your gloved palm along the railing.

sicheng watches your every action.

when you reach the bottom of the staircase, you shake your head gently to push back the strands of hairs that had fell in front of your face.

"how do i look?" you ask with a teasing smile.

you can see sicheng's lips part faintly, only for him to clear his throat right after. "as you do normally, miss ln." he subtly straightens his posture and pushes his shoulders back. "after you," he gestures towards the front door.

...

sicheng pulls open the door closest to you. he extends his palm towards you, with his other hand cradling a small, rectangular wooden box. you take his hand as you lift one foot out of the vehicle and onto the tiled courtyard of the xiao family house.

the butler comes to greet you. you've known him and the family that he works for for as long as you can remember, and seeing him again tonight struck a chord within you. a certain spark of gloom settles inside your stomach when you see him smile, his wrinkles deeper and his hair greyer than you remember.

the butler leads you down the main entrance hall towards the gala that's already well under way behind the closed doors. you've been down these halls more than a handful of time, the same paintings have been hung up on the walls for at least a decade, but the air of elegance and grandeur that the xiao family home exudes never fails to knock your breath out of you.

sicheng notices you seemingly lost in a thought, and before the trio of you reaches the superfluously tall double doors, he quietly utters, "is everything alright?" being mindful and not wanting the butler to overhear if something was amiss.

you glance over your shoulder, out of your trance, "yes."

he doesn't press, anymore. even if he did want to ask more, ask if you were sure, he knew his place, and so he didn't pry further.

the butler pushes open the double doors and a gentle puff of wind blows against you, travelling along with the music to your ears. "enjoy the gala," he smiles, and you return his display of friendliness.

as he walks back down the other direction, sicheng inches ever so slightly closer to you.

the cold and eerily too refined hallway is starkly contrasted by the lively atmosphere of the gala ballroom. attendees are chatting, networking, dancing. they all look extremely distinguished; pearls and diamonds and crystals draped all over them. the chandelier hanging in the middle of the ballroom is glistening, and a small orchestra is performing at one end of the hall.

you pause on top of the stairs for a moment, taking in the scene in front of you, and simultaneously searching for a face. then, you find it.

you begin to make your way down to where everyone else was on the dance floor, and sicheng follows closely behind you. as you weave your way in between the attendees, your senses are hit and overwhelmed with notes upon notes of fragrances. it transitions from roses to vanilla, cedarwood to bergamot. individually, these aromas would typically be more than pleasant, but combined together along with the heat emanating off everyone, it muddled your senses so much that a headache began to creep its way into your temples. it's clear as you manoeuvre your way across the dance floor, that sicheng stood out to everyone as an unusual date of yours. they would flash a faint smile at you then take one, or two glances at the man trailing behind you. guards weren't uncommon, yes, but to bring a personal guard to a gala hosted by a well respected member of the upper echelon? that was uncommon.

finally, you're face to face with the person you've been looking for: the host.

"mrs. xiao."

"yn!" she enthusiastically greets you, a beaming smile on her face. her arms open up and pull you into a warm embrace. "goodness, i haven't seen you in so long!" she expresses as she begins to pull away.

"i know, it's been way too long," you politely respond.

if you were talking to anyone else in this room, you'd be dead before you were caught speaking so casually to them. but you grew up next to mrs. xiao and her family. her son, dejun, was practically your childhood best friend. well, it's hard to tell if a best friend really is a best friend when that was your only option, but nonetheless, your two families were close.

"oh!" you voice as you turn around to sicheng. you stretch your hands towards the wooden box that he was carrying and he places it gently into your palms. "here, i got you some merlot," you turn back around, "i asked barnie at the winery to give me your favourite," a curl stretched your lips taut.

a wave of gratitude washes over mrs. xiao's face. "you're still as thoughtful as ever, yn." she takes the box into her arms, and as if on cue, someone dressed in a neat uniform comes towards mrs. xiao and takes the box away so that she doesn't have to carry it herself for more than a couple of seconds.

and right at the moment, dejun approaches where you are stood in the centre of the ballroom, walking alongside some other guests, one you know, the other you don't.

mrs. xiao turns to him, trying to contain some of her agitation as she mutters, "where have you been this whole night?"

"i've been in here, ma," he responds equally as quiet, but more passive aggressively, disguised with that bright smile of his.

mrs. xiao turns her head away from him with her nose up, trying to swallow down her irritation. "anyway," she breathes out. "dejun, aren't you going to introduce your friends?"

he took that as a sign to do as his mother asked, but not before sighing a shallow breath first. in an instant, he puts on a charming smile. you know he's not doing it for you, he couldn't care less about being charming towards you; both of you knew you would see right through it anyway. "yn, this is rin. rin, yn. and hendery's here as well, i guess," he mutters the last part of his sentence.

you stifle back a smirk at dejun's attempt at humour and extend your palm for a handshake with rin. "it's a pleasure to meet you." she doesn't say anything but shakes your hand gently and mirrors your smile back to you, except hers looks very practiced and unnatural.

mrs. xiao tuts her teeth, so subtly that it's barely audible. she turns her body into you ever so slightly, leaning forward and muttering under her breath into your ear, "i really wish you were here to stop my jun兒 from falling into these circles. look at them, no manners at all."

dejun watches almost awkwardly, then he switches the attention onto you. "what about you, yn? aren't you going to introduce us to your little armpiece?" he cocks his head in sicheng's direction.

mrs. xiao shoots dejun a stern look, one that carries the weight of a thousand words. but in front of such a crowd, the extent of her reprimanding ends at, "don't speak so crass."

dejun only shoots up his eyebrows in response, and sucks in a quiet breath.

"this is dong sicheng," on instinct, your hand sweeps out to the side of you and sicheng nods. "he's the... bodyguard, that my father hired."

"bodyguard, huh?"

"don't start, xiaojun," you try your best to make it seem subtle enough, but dejun chuckles at the sight of you rolling your eyes.

mrs. xiao cuts through the brief pause in conversation, "well, we would love to stay and chat more but i should go greet some of my other guests. you don't mind, yn?"

"no, of course, not."

mrs. xiao gives you one last squeeze before she's off again waving halfway across the room to somebody else, and dejun and his friends trail behind her.

you're about to turn around when a waiter passes by you and sicheng, one hand balancing a tray full of glasses of champagne.

"a drink, miss?"

you pinch the stem of the glass in between your fingers and your thumb. when the waiter offers one to sicheng, he declines.

as you bring your champagne up to your lips, sicheng slips his fingers around the bowl of your glass and forcibly pulls it away from you. "he offered you one," you look at him in disbelief, but he acts as if you didn't say anything.

he hovers the rim of the glass under his nose, swirling the champagne around as he does so. you watch, still half incredulous and half in puzzlement. he brings the rim up against his lips, tipping the glass towards him as he takes the tiniest sip of champagne that you’ve ever seen. as he swallows, he smacks his lips together lightly, then he passes the glass back to you.

“what was that for?” hesitantly, you sit the bowl of the glass back into your palm. you’re not sure if you should sip from the same cup as he did—is that even appropriate in this setting?

“not laced,” he states nonchalantly, eyes darting around the room.

it takes your brain a few seconds to fully process what he just did, and said. “and why would it be laced?” a confusion intertwined with your voice.

sicheng stares at you, not blankly, but not aggressively either. it’s like you can read what he’s doing in his head, going down winding paths to find you an answer, but you can’t read exactly what it is that he’s thinking.

he finally responds after a good few moments of him turning your question over in his head. “you are my responsibility,” he can sense that you are about to object this statement, so he quickly continues. “regardless of what you may think, you are. whatever i do, i do in your best interest. do you understand now?”

truthfully, you want to reply, ‘not quite.’ how does that explain why your drink at a gala held by people you know, people you trust, would be laced?

sicheng leans in close enough so that you can hear him at a whisper, but not so close that people will see and start to speculate. "miss ln, may i remind you you're a successor. i know you've already lived through some threats, but if they were willing to threaten you when you arguably held no power, imagine what they would do if they knew you were taking over your father's position as mayor."

he backs away; face still as cold as steel, not letting anything that he's thinking or feeling show. you can't help but feel a bit shaken at his words. yes, you've received threats before, but they were mostly empty-handed words scribbled on a note. you never thought anything of them, until sicheng said something just now.

"there's no reason people here of all places would want to do anything to me; you're too paranoid." as the words leave your mouth, you can feel your doubt coating your tongue, but you wash it down with some sparkling wine. just a little bit.

sicheng studies your expression for a second, his head tilting slightly to the side. "have you ever heard of a wolf in sheep's clothing, miss ln? maybe you're not paranoid enough," his last word drags off and almost becomes inaudible.

you blink your lashes a couple of times looking up at him, and then an echoing voice pierces right through the ballroom.

"hello everyone! thank you all for attending my little gathering."

both you and sicheng turn your heads to the origin of the sound. mrs. xiao is stood on the little stage that the orchestra has been performing on.

a pleasant smile drawing on her face as she addresses her guests, "it is so great to see so many of you. as you all know, my husband and i-"

the lights cut. the chandelier that was hanging above the dance floor flickers off.

mrs. xiao's voice can be heard again, but this time loudly proclaiming without the help of her microphone over the gasps and murmurs of confusion. "everyone please remain calm—i'm sure the lights will be back on soon."

a sudden pang of fear hits you. your heart thumps faster in your chest, and your breathing becomes shallower and shallower. there's darkness all around you. you try your best to look for, or rather, feel around for sicheng but you remain quiet, knowing it will only add to the chaos. people all around you are shuffling, nudging everyone else. whispers and mumbles all fade into a singular stream of white noise around you. then, you feel a hand grasp on your upper arm. a sense of relief washes over your mind, sicheng. but then, the grasp feels begins to dig deeper and deeper into you, and it becomes clear to you that whatever grasping you isn't a hand. at least, it's not a hand coming into direct contact with you. the fingers digging into your arm are clothed by a silk or sorts; sicheng didn't wear gloves.

you try to free your arm by wrangling it away from whoever it is that has a hold on you. then, in an instant, you feel the hand drop from you so forcibly that it tugged your arm downwards along with it. a new hand has made its way onto you, this time just slightly below your shoulder. you hear a whisper in your ear, "come on, let's go," and the relief you felt earlier resurfaces. this time, it's definitely sicheng's voice.

he takes hold of your wrist, not too tight but just enough to guide you to the exit. as you two are about to head up the stairs to the double doors, the lights flicker back on and mrs. xiao is on stage again.

"there we are. i apologise profusely for that disruption," her hands grip onto the mic stand tightly.

sicheng leads you up the stairs and out the doors without second guessing; everyone else seemed too caught up in the middle of the chaos to notice.

...

back at your home, you and sicheng enter through your foyer and he's spluttering out orders and demands over the phone. as you pass by the large circular mirror hanging in one of the walls of the foyer, you catch a glimpse of your reflection. you double take. one of your ears are still adorned by the beautiful pearl earring that your father had got you, but your other one is missing.

sicheng gets off of the phone that he's been on since the beginning of the car ride home. then, he notices you staring at your reflection in the mirror. "what's the matter?"

you give a gentle shake of your head, fingers drawing at your bare earlobe, "nothing, just one of my earrings is gone."

"i'll have my men try to find it for you," he responds without missing a beat. "miss ln, are you sure that nothing else happened whilst the lights went out?" his eyebrows curve in a slight s-shape.

"yes, i already told you. someone grabbed me by the arm, but that was it. maybe they just thought i was someone they knew."

sicheng shows no reaction to your theory, "i will have this investigated, miss ln. i advise you to get some rest," he says with a bow of his head.

your nightly routine goes by like a blur. priscilla has been dismissed for the night, so you undo your hair, your gown, and clean off your makeup all by yourself, but your mind isn't fully in the present.

sicheng went off after telling you to get some rest, presumably to inform your father about what'd happened. you don't know for certain if he's still speaking to your father, or if he's standing outside your door right now.

it's not that your mind is dwelling on what happened; in fact, you are precisely thinking of nothing. everything in your vision passes by you like you're watching someone else lead their life. even as you get changed, crawl into bed, and try to drift to sleep.

suddenly, you hear a creak from outside your window. your eyes shoot open. trying your best to calm yourself, you reason that it's probably just mice who'd made their way into your garden. a strong gust of wind blows past. then, silence.

and another creak. all logic and rationale flys out of your mind. the only thing you can think of to do is...

"sicheng!"

you tried your best to hold your own earlier, down in the foyer, but right now the sense of urgency in your voice betrays you. sicheng bursts into your room, the buttons of the collar of his shirt undone.

"yes, miss ln?"

his eyes are solely focused on you, despite you looking out towards the windows.

"there's... i heard some weird noises," you gesture with your head pointing at the garden.

sicheng follows your gaze, then he looks back at you. he could tell you that you're in your own home, that you're safe, but instead, he walks over to your windows and draws open your curtains. "there's nothing here, miss ln." hoping that he can provide you with some reassurance, he looks back at you, "we've already done a perimeter check, you're safe here, i assure you."

you drop your eyes, responding with a gentle nod of the head.

"i'll be outside," he says as he begins to make his way back to the door.

before he can reach the handle, you stop him, "wait." he looks at you with an expectant expression. "can't you just stay here?"

even though he's a distance away, you notice a flinch in his brows as he registered your words. "i'm afraid that's not appropriate, miss ln." he says this, but he doesn't take another step.

"there," you point towards the sofa chair to the right side of your bed, "at least just stay there." you wanted to add a 'please,' maybe plead with him, but your dignity had to be kept even if you were fearful.

he doesn't protest as much as you thought he would. quietly, he shuts your door and makes his way to the chair.

your fingers hop from one note to another, pressing down with force and lifting again at the flick of your wrist. a familiar tune emanates throughout the room, rising up to the skylight, then sinking back down again.

your hands dance along the keys of the grand piano at the bottom of your staircase. a bittersweet melody fills your ears, and as you come to a decrescendo in the piece, the faint sound of footsteps through the marble halls overtake your playing. you swiftly turn your head around.

sicheng is stood behind you. under the bright morning light, his cheekbones stand out prominently. "i've been looking for you, miss ln," his chest falls as he says this.

"you dozed off," you turn your attention back to the piano, "i didn't want to wake you."

"i apologise; it won't happen again."

"you need to rest, too," you raise your hands and gently set them on top of the keys, "do you even sleep?"

there's a slight break in between your asking of the question and his answer. "occasionally, but not when i'm supposed to be on duty."

you turn back around, "well, like you said: i'm safe here." you scan him up and down, he's changed out of the outfit he wore to the gala last night, but all his outfits resemble each other. a black button up shirt, a fitted black blazer, black suit paints, a black tie, and a small white brooch on the lapels of his blazer. "do you play?"

he looks to be slightly caught offguard, "no. well, yes but-"

"play something for me."

you shuffle yourself to one side of the bench, making room for sicheng next to you. he slowly walks around and slides into the spot you've made for him. for the first time, you can visibly see that every one of his actions are carried out with hesitation.

his posture is perfect, head slightly tilted downwards and a curve at his wrist as his fingertips lay upon the whites of the piano keys. he clears his throat. then, a single note as he presses down with his index finger. the beginning is slow, slower than the piece was intended to be, but you know what he's playing regardless. nocturne op. 9 no. 1. there's a certain silent agony in the way he punctuates the flow of the melody. the second of the set of nocturnes that chopin had composed has always been regarded as chopin's more famous piece of work over this one. yet, the manner in which sicheng plays this piece makes you wonder why.

the stiffness that was prevalent in his body is now gone, fully immersed in the rhythm. the crescendo comes devastatingly, he leans forward into it, the melody tugging at your chest despite it sounding a bit brighter than the introduction of the piece. you watch in silence as his fingers glide and cross over each other masterfully, a sonorous tone emitting from his movements.

he doesn't finish the piece, but he finds a place to stop after a minute or so of playing.

his fingers linger on the notes as the melody fades out gradually.

"you play beautifully," softly, you remark, "where did you learn?"

he lifts his hands from the keys, clasping them together on his lap. "thank you—my mother taught me."

you watch as he swallows, his adam’s apple dipping slightly. a thought occurs to you. you barely know anything about this man who’s supposed to protect you. maybe that’s for privacy, confidentiality, or security reasons but, there’s a certain yearning in you that wants to find out more about him. after all, trust can’t be built without a foundation. you just don’t know where to prod.

“…and what about your dad?”

sicheng glances over at you, slightly confused at your sudden interest in him. his eyebrows flinch again. “he, uh, used to work for your father. that’s why i’m here. my family owes a lot to your father.”

he gulps again.

you’re not completely sure how to navigate through this conversation. do you ask where his father is now? what if it’s a sensitive spot, why else would sicheng be acting this uncharacteristically. his cold and cool demeanor seemingly melted away. “your father… is he…”

you don’t finish your sentence, but sicheng knows what you’re hinting at. “no, no. he’s just retired. too many injuries on the job.” he clears his throat and stands up from the bench. “sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude on your space, miss ln.” he begins to walk back around the bench.

you can’t help but let out a faint chuckle. “drop the title already. it’s just yn.”

he’s standing tall, hands clasped in front of him, and he purses his lips together. he dips his head rather jerkily, “as you wish.”

then, a ping sounds out.

you pick up your phone that was laid out on the top cover of the piano, and sicheng fishes for his in the inside pockets of his blazer. as he brings out his phone, you begin to hear a vibration sounding out. he holds it in his hand and flashes a quick glance at you, “excuse me,” then he accepts the call. as he brings it up to his ear, he spins on his heel and start to walk off into a distant hallway.

you divert your attention back onto your screen and begin to see messages popping up at the bottom. ones from dejun that read:

"my mum would like to apologise to everyone here about what happened yesterday."

it's sent to the group chat thread that you rarely respond to, though, you do keep up with its messages.

then, another:

"i don't believe in apologies without actions, so you're all cordially invited to come to dreamers' oasis in d119 tomorrow night."

"on me."

the last message was an important detail. you click on the notification bubble and already see others typing in the group chat.

hendery writes, "you are so gonna regret saying that."

a tiny smile creeps its' way onto your face. your thumbs begin moving on the keyboard; hitting send on a message that says, "hendery's going to bankrupt you," which earned you a dislike from dejun.

he ignores your comment, "will you finally be joining us yn? you know, seeing as it's your last week as a free woman."

the last part of his sentence hits you; maybe not to that extreme but it is your last week before you have to take on your father's responsibilities.

every time dejun invites you to a night out, it's most of the time a no brainer and not in a positive way. all the clubs and bars that your friends choose are out of your district's boundaries. and it's not like you didn't have clubs and bars in this district, but the fun ones—as dejun puts it—are only in district 119. you've only taken the risk a couple of times, but now, with especially an extra pair of eagle eyes on you, the possibility of sneaking out is practically 0.

before you can respond, hendery already sent out a message in your place, "have you seen her little boyfriend yesterday? there's no way man."

as much as you want to disagree, you can't. there is no way.

"not my boyfriend," you finally type out.

messages keep popping up on screen, a plan coming together with the people that can go. before you exit out of the thread, you type in "i'll see what i can do," but you stop short of pressing send.

quietly, you head off in the same direction as sicheng, scanning the halls for any sign of him. you're not quite sure what you'll do once you see him. beg him? please let me go out with my friends and get wasted? no. you haven't reached that point, yet; you still have some decorum within you.

you spot him still talking over the phone behind a marble pillar. as silently as possible, you sidle over to where he is, not wanting to disrupt him. once you're close enough, you catch glimpses of his conversation that he's having: "do you understand? whatever you do... we can't let her find out what happened."

your brain made the connect pretty quickly, the 'her' in question had to be you—who else? and what is he keeping from you? he continues speaking but nothing is going through you. all you can think about is, what is he not telling me? as quietly as you came, you retrace your steps back into the piano room.

you'd be lying if you said there wasn't a spark of fury beginning to catch within you. if you are to trust sicheng, why would he purposefully keep something from you? the more you think about it, the more agitated you grew. the fact that he seemed to treat you like a child needing protection every step along the way annoyed you—and what if his intention wasn't to protect you? your head can only spin with theories and speculations.

you unlock your phone again, and hit send on the last message you typed out.

...

your father wanted to have dinner with you tonight, alongside sicheng, of course. and you know now after sitting down to begin your meal, he really wanted to have dinner with sicheng tonight.

"any updates?" your father directed the inquiry towards your bodyguard.

the three of you are sat on a long, oval table. your father sitting at one end, and you and sicheng sitting across from him, sharing the other end. the candelabra stands in between you and your father in the middle.

"no, not yet, sir. we're still trying to investigate the intent behind yesterday's actions."

he finishes his sentence before continuing to cut into his ribeye. you sit adjacent to him, observing every movement he takes. as he stabs into the meat with his fork and brings it up into his mouth. he sets his fork down on the edge of the plate, bringing the napkin laid flat on his lap up as he chews.

"yn, you're not hungry?" your father's voice booms from across the room, breaking your attention away from sicheng.

you look down at your plate, barely touched aside from you swirling the sauce around. "no, i'm afraid not." you set down the fork that you have been toying with flat on the tablecloth. you pull the napkin from your lap and place it on the other side of your plate. standing up, you voice, "i'm a bit weary tonight." you spot sicheng shifting to get up from his seat in your peripheral, "no, no, please finish dinner. father, would you excuse me?"

"well... of course," with your father's approval, sicheng sits back down. you turn around, the heels you're wearing click at a steady pace as you're headed for the doors.

you haven't spoken directly to sicheng since dinner last night. the whole of today you spent cooped up in the library. that's not to say that you were being passive, though.

you haven't forgotten about dejun's invitation for drinks tonight—you just needed the perfect cover.

it's around 8pm, your maids have come and gone bringing you food and tea from time to time. you glance at the grandfather clock propped up against the wall in between all the bookshelves.

you slide the book that you've held in your hands back into its spot on the shelf. rather than actually reading it, your eyes have been skimming the pages and the words scattered throughout absent-mindedly. you turn your plan over around in your mind as you did so, and you have been for the past few hours, at least.

you drag your feet over the wooden floorboards of the library and crack open the doors. you peak your head out into the crack, then the rest of your body follows. oddly enough, sicheng isn't standing right in front of the room.

like a stereotypical action movie, you give the hallways a quick glance in one direction, then the other. you've never felt as much like a thief in your own home. sneaking, tiptoeing around the hallways, caution bubbling in every part of you.

when you reach your bedroom doors, footsteps sound behind you.

the looming presence of someone else doesn't speak, the only indication of them even being there is the shadow of them casted over your own feet.

you turn around, and you're met with the face that you've come to expect these past few days. "i'm... having an early night in."

sicheng's expression is unfaltering. the return of his stoicism makes you feel like a schoolchild being reprimanded by some vague authority figure; desperate to give more and more answers, to keep speaking and reasoning.

he watches your frozen body, as if you'd been caught doing something you're not supposed to, when in reality you're just stood outside of the doors to your own bedroom. "just thought i'd tell you," you add.

"well, don't let me stop you." his torso leans forward ever so slightly, the tone of his voice catching on the edge of a faint whisper.

the handle of the door clicks as you push onto it. when you look back to shut it, sicheng repositions himself with his back to the wall that lines the outside of your room.

once you're completely alone, you strip yourself of the sleeping clothes that you'd been wearing for entirety of today immediately and go over to your closet where you'd already hung up an outfit that you picked out last night.

you slip it on hastily: a tight fitting camisole top with a miniskirt, paired with some knee high leather boots and an oversized jacket for warmth. most of this outfit doesn't even look like it belongs to you. the people in your life knows you for wearing pretty dresses and skirts that reach your knees at least, but if tonight's going to be anything close to fun, then you need to look the part. you can't afford sticking out like a sore thumb, especially in district 119.

you'd texted your friends—or rather xiaojun, and his friends—earlier, asking if they could park right outside the gazebo at the far end of the garden, waiting for you to show up. this plan has worked precisely 2 times before with a 100% success rate, and you're counting on it working for a third time.

you would open the doors to your balcony, climb over the balustrade and scale your way downwards on the water pipe right next to your balcony landing. the garden wasn't fenced in like the front of the house. after all, this house was on private land belonging to your father; anyone who tried to trespass would've been seen by at least one person working on the property. so, it was an easy enough escape from the garden compared to your exit route down from your room.

you walk through the gazebo, hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket as you try to shake the cold of the night off of you. dejun's suv is there, headlights off.

they must've seen you even in the dark, because once you're about a step or two away, the passenger door to the suv swings open—dejun himself in the driver's seat.

...

after finding a quick place to park, you and the group walk a block to where the club is, having had a drink or two on the way here.

the streets are anything but quiet. the heavy void of the sky sits atop the city like a dome, the neon signs colouring the deep blue like a palette of dulled paint. the closer and closer you get to the club, the music already begins to boom from within. laughter erupts from the rest of the group from a joke that you missed.

a pair stands right outside the entrance of the club, one of them leaning against the brick wall whilst the other squats; cigarettes in both their hands. you hold your breath as you walk right into a fresh cloud of smoke, courtesy of the man standing up.

on one hand, you want to let loose tonight; have fun. but on the other, you can't help but wonder if you were meticulous enough, or even at all. there's no guarantee that sicheng wouldn't just open your door and find that you are nowhere within the vicinity. but he wouldn't for no reason, you try to calm your racing mind.

you find yourself at the back of the pack, watching everyone in front of you filter into the entrance, disappearing into the darkness surrounded by a rectangular frame.

dejun is right in front of you, he takes note of your hesitation. he comes back down from the steps leading to the entrance stopping right next to you.

lowering his head, he looks at you through his brows, "don't tell me you're gonna pussy out when you're right outside."

you try to dismiss the doubts flaring around in your head. "you wish. drinks still on you, right?" you shoot him a quick wink, then stride up the steps and like others before you, submerge into the darkness.

and immediately, flashing lights take over the darkness. a neon green fog floats just above the floor. a circular platform stands in the middle of the club with a metal pole going through the centre of it. the club itself is a lot bigger than you'd imagined, given what the exterior of it looked like. circle booths surround the platform and smaller ones are peppered all throughout. the ceiling is tall with decorative vines and ivies hanging from it, not low enough for anyone to reach. 2 bartenders stand behind the bar, busying themselves with orders upon orders for a room of, what looks to be about 200 people. a small, spiralled staircase stands to the right of the bar, leading to what resembles a loft platform with people drinking and laughing up on it.

it's as if your feet are stuck to the ground as you take in the scene before you. dejun places a hand on the small of your back. he utters right by your ear, "come on, that way," as he guides you towards one of the bigger booths right in front of the platform.

you plop down on the red leather couch, warmed against the back of your thigh.

remixes of popular songs blast unapologetically out of the speakers that lined every few inches of the walls. you can hardly hear the people in front of you speaking, debating what drinks to get first. you lean forward, wanting to get an in on what they're discussing. shots, shots, shots. after a word or two from dejun, everyone agrees that they should do shots first. melon flavoured, to be exact.

dejun vanishes into the group of people crowding around the bar.

"so, yn, how's leaving your house for the first time ever?" one of dejun's friends sprouts up.

you can feel your breathing pick up its pace. you weren't expecting much conversation seeing as 'friends' isn't exactly the label you'd put on these people, with the exception being dejun, and maybe hendery.

"great actually, thanks." you slide back into your spot on the booth, only slightly cramped with the amount of people sharing one area.

hendery lands a punch on the guy's arm, "watch how you speak to our princess." a smirk picks up on the guy's lips as hendery finishes his sentence, his tongue poking into the crevice of his cheek.

and just as quickly as the attention turned to you, it leaves you even faster. comments are thrown around about the female bartender.

"hendery, i'll give you £100 if you don't ask for her number tonight," someone chimed.

hendery quickly steals a glance at his phone before returning his eyes to the bettor, "i guess we're not leaving until after midnight, then." he sits back, throwing an arm around the girl next to him.

dejun makes his way back, hands holding as many shots as he could—which was 8. not all of them were filled equally, which you can only assume was attributed to dejun's bumping into people as he was on his way back. the small glasses were filled with a somewhat cloudy liquid. everyone picked up a shot as he set them down on the glass table, including you.

"to xiaojun bankrolling us!" a voice chirped up with a glass in the air. everyone else followed with a chorus of cheers, clinking the shots together before tipping their heads back and downing it.

as you swallow, there's a hint of sweetness from the melon flavour but the vodka is inescapable. you can feel it travel all the way with a burn down your oesophagus until it settles in your stomach, a heat spreading from it.

...

the overwhelming boom of the music does not phase you anymore. you are past the point of hazy where the only thing you can comprehend is what is immediately happening in front of you. object permanence? gone.

for the past few hours, you and the rest of the group you came here with downed shot after shot, drank beer after beer. no matter how high your tolerance was, tonight definitely pushed you over that line.

"xiaojun!" you shout across to your friend at the bar. he acknowledges you with a quick wave of his hand.

the others have their arms around each other's shoulders, foundering as they approach the exit. you lean against one of the walls right in front of the fog machine, waiting for dejun.

"come on, yn!" one of the girls shout, grabbing your wrist in her hands and linking you to the rest of the group. dejun finally makes his way back over, and instinctually you fling an arm around him, too.

the bunch of you look ridiculous; grown adults stumbling their way out of a club in the dark. half present smiles seemingly glued onto your faces. all of you count together as one by one, you take the couple of steps down onto the pavement.

once back on the street, you open your eyes to more than just a squint. the road looks the same as before. time has no effect on this district, neon signs still alight with strangers roaming the streets at any hour of the day. you bask in the warm orange glow of the lamp post directly above you, and you scan around for dejun's suv.

and that's when you see something across the road.

a tall, lean figure slanted against the hood of a car. you recognise his posture all too well.

oh shit. shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

you'd gotten so carried away tonight that you completely forgot that you weren't even supposed to be here. the drinks flushed every doubt, every worry out of your mind. it is only when your eyes see sicheng standing right across the road from you, and your mind consciously registers that, that every thing you tried to forget comes rushing back to you.

"xiaojun," you mutter under your breath, but he's not entirely in it, either.

sicheng spots the group of you, head tilted, and that's the moment he recognises you, in an outfit he'd never seen you in before, around people that he has seen before. he pushes himself off of the hood and crosses the road. you have exactly 3 seconds before you're done for.

the night is blustery, gentle, but breezy nonetheless. he's wearing a white button up with his sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone. as he's making his way towards you, his hands are tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

sicheng takes 3 steps onto the pavement that you're on, and you are met face to face with the guard that you attempted to escape tonight. he quickly eyes the rest of your group, too drunk to even comprehend what is happening and who he is. a misstep happens and three of them stumble, fall, and stack on top of one another. they laugh it off.

he returns his gaze to you. "miss ln."

it's magical the way you suddenly feel sober. confrontation is one hell of an antidote. "listen," you breathe out. but it's no use, even you know it.

sicheng spares you no pity. "shall we head home?"

you don't know what you prefer: him still being cool and calm and collected, or have him be so seethingly furious with you like your father would be. in that moment, you decide that his reaction is much worse. how can he stand there with the state of you like this and still ask such a question with a steeled face? does he not care?

you look over to dejun, who has now walked around you to help his other friends get up.

trying to make up your mind whether to plead your case in that moment, there is something else that you can decide easier. going home with sicheng. there's no use fighting it, and frankly, you didn't want to. so, you take a step, passing by where sicheng stood in front of you, and then another, and until you're across the road about to get into the car. your friends left on the curb—they'll manage, you figured.

your body can't help but shake as you step into the passenger seat. a jittery feeling overtakes you. do you explain? do you not? what even is the explanation?

sicheng gets into the driver seat. he turns on the engine, back up from the parking spot, and begins to drive off, doing this all without a word.

you steal a glance over at him, not wanting to appear too sheepish. a sudden apologetic sentiment freezes your body, but that same feeling quickly turns sour. you open your mouth to speak, but no noise leaves you. quickly, you snap your head back around and lean against the window. the quietness of the car ride has you feeling all the effects of the events tonight.

"you didn't think i'd know?"

your eyes shift over. sicheng's focus is entirely on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that the veins on his arms are prominent under the moonlight. he might not sound angry, but his body language gives it away.

"no, i thought..." you take a deep breath in. "i don't know what i thought," you finally admit.

if he'd heard your answer, he gave no indication of it. he continues driving, fingers still clenched tightly around the wheel. his silence lingers around for a good few minutes. no music, nothing; just the sound of the friction of the tyres speeding against tarmac.

"if something had happened to you, do you know what that means? for all of us?" he asks, in a tone that's more or less condescending.

you stay quiet—you didn't see a point in arguing your case. or maybe it was just the alcohol taking the fight out of you, the steady rocking of the ride seem to begin to lull you to sleep.

the rest of the car ride home was silent. sicheng's grip never loosened. and you can tell none of his frustration dissipated by the way he slammed the car door shut.

as noiselessly as possible, the two of you slide in through the main doors into the foyer. you pull on the heels of your boots to take them off, struggling with your balance slightly. as you're about to make your way up to your room with your boots in your hands, sicheng stops you with one statement.

"i won't tell your father."

you turn, feeling a disjointed mix of emotions. you're relieved, but confused...? and grateful, but suspicious. "why?" you bluntly ask, questioning his ulterior motives if he has any.

sicheng takes a deep breath in and rolls his head to his left side. he takes a single step towards you. the rest of the house is dark, the only light being from the two sconces on either sides of the foyer. as he looks into your eyes, his irises are two swirling rings of mystery. you can never guess what he's thinking.

"because it won't look good on either one of us," he whispers. "if you wanted to go out, you could've just told me and i would've helped you," he added, now with a certain softness breaking into his gaze.

your focus shifts from one eye to the other. sicheng can read every wrinkle in your brow and every glint of confusion in your stare. what are you supposed to make of the fact that the man your father hired to watch you like a hawk is willing to help you get up to things your father will never approve of?

"but why?"

it's as if the drinks had broken down your every guard, every filter that you're so used to imposing on yourself. the bluntness in your tone is something even you didn't recognise.

"tonight proved that you would sneak out regardless of circumstances. so, why not tell me so i can at least keep you as safe as i can?"

sicheng finds himself exploring every inch of your face with his gaze, studying the smudged eyeliner and lipstick on you, before meeting your eyes again. he continues, "i have a job to do, you know?"

it seems as though you're not the only one with a broken down barrier. the formality in which he normally speaks with is nowhere to be heard.

"and why should i trust you?" there's an edge in your voice that makes the question come out as offensive. "i can't," you quickly add before he even has a chance to reply.

and now it's his turn to be stumped. your sudden change in attitude evokes a return of the wince in his eyebrows. "what do you mean?" he falters.

"i heard you yesterday." your head shakes, the clear of your eyes glisten with a lack of faith. "what am i supposed to think of you when you're actively hiding something from me?"

it's like a wave of realisation hits sicheng. he recalls the phone call that he took yesterday, and realises what you must've overheard. it takes him a few seconds to collect his thoughts together.

"you can't possibly think that i would want to harm you."

"i don't know you!" you exclaim, maybe a bit too loud for this hour. "you waltz into my life and tell me that you're trying to save me, but i don't know you."

sicheng exhales and drops his head. his chest rises slowly as he takes in a deep lungful of air. "i didn't want to tell you because i didn't want you to feel... betrayed."

your body language communicates all there is to say. you urge him to go on with a shake of your head and a furrowing in your eyebrows.

"we have reason to believe that..." his voice is small, and soft, as if he's laying down cushioning for telling a child that santa claus isn't real. "the person threatening you runs in your immediate coterie."

your friends. that's what he's hinting at, that's what he's explicitly telling you right now. that possibly someone you went out with tonight have reason to threaten you. sicheng thought that telling you now would diffuse the situation, but in fact, it does the opposite.

"isn't that all the more reason for me to know? and you hid it from me for w-"

"yn," he corrects his slip of words, "miss ln." he cuts you off ever so calmly, "i understand that emotions are heightened right now. i think it's best we talk in the morning."

a knot works its way up into your own chest. your frustration is fuelled even more by his coolness. you stare at his ridiculously poised expression, and in that moment, you give up trying to argue.

you finally begin to walk up the stairs, with your boots still in your hands, ready to crash and give out onto your bed.

you wake up the next morning, or rather the same morning, with a throbbing pain in your head. one of your ears feels blocked and no matter what you do to try and make it so that noise isn't muffled as it filters into your ear, it doesn't work.

in the bathroom, you stare at your reflection and are in shock over how badly you removed your makeup last night. eyeliner stains the corners of your eyelids, patches of concealer are still on the sides of your face. you turn on the faucet, wait for it to become warmer, and scrub the remainder of the products off of your face.

in the midst of washing your face, you realise that you haven't had a proper meal since yesterday afternoon, as signalled by a grumbling in your stomach.

as discreetly as possible, you try to get out of your room, taking a gentle step out onto the hallway. you're not entirely sure why you needed to be stealthy, perhaps it's just the aftereffects of last night.

however, your plan to be concealed quickly falls to shambles as sicheng is, as always, guarding your door outside and your father is walking down the hallway heading in your direction. your heart starts to beat faster and faster; if sicheng didn't stick by his words last night then you are dead for all you know. that conversation you had in the foyer didn't leave your mind even for a second when you tried to fall asleep earlier, and you plan on following up on that talk he offered you.

your father reaches your room and stops to take one look at you.

"goodmorning, father." you utter. a tinge of sheepishness can't help but crawl onto the apples of your cheeks.

"goodmorning, dear," he stretches a warm smile directed towards you, and gives a simple nod of the head to sicheng.

so he didn't lie. that's the first thought following your relief that your father isn't absolutely furious with you. you glance at sicheng as your father walks past you continuing his way down the hallway. he flashes you an expression, one that says, 'what did i tell you?'

sicheng keeps his eyes on your father and as soon as he's out of earshot, he mutters, "surprised?"

a look of almost disbelief takes over you. the nerve on this guy. your heart almost jumped out of your chest and he has the cockiness to make a remark like that.

"stop fucking with me. you still owe me an explanation."

sicheng says with a simple shrug, "i've told you everything i know."

before you can speak back and challenge him, one of your housemaids yell out your name from the foyer.

you quickly make your way downstairs with sicheng following right behind you.

you spot priscilla kneeling down to pick up a package left right in front of the doors to the house. "what is it, priscilla?" you ask, as she begins to stand up again.

"i'm not sure—but it's addressed to you, miss," she responds, reading the tag tied to the parcel with a thin ribbon.

it's odd enough that a package made its way directly onto your doorsteps since the mail that you and your father receive are usually intercepted and collected at the mail room, or placed into your father's study. it's even more strange that it's directly addressed to you with your name typed and printed out in a sans-serif font.

you hold the box in one hand as your other goes to unravel the ribbon. you pull the knot through, and the box undoes itself. the 4 walls fall down revealing another note with your name on it, this time handwritten in a sparkly, gold paint.

you pick the note up and twirl it around with your fingers. sure enough, there's a message for you on the back. it looks like it was typed out on a traditional typewriter, it reads: "next time, i'll have your pretty head along with it" signed with kisses.

you suck in a sharp breath, a shock dawning on you. you look down at the opened box, under the note was a cushioning of tissue paper along with one earring. it took you a few seconds to study the singular earring, then it hits you: the pearl earring that you lost at the gala. your fingers begin to tremble, and sicheng watches as you're overcome with theories and conclusions.

he snatches the note from your hands, eyes scanning every word hastily and sees the earring in the box. it doesn't take him time to put two and two together.

immediately, he voices, "priscilla, did you see who left this outside?"

"no, uh, i opened the door because there was a knock and as soon as i saw the parcel with miss ln's name on it, i called for her." priscilla is evidently taken aback by the sharpness of sicheng's voice. her gestures are overt as she explains the situation.

sicheng pulls his phone out and his thumbs slide over the bottom part of his screen as he swiftly sends out a message.

he turns to you, "i'll go look over security footage right now. yn, go back up to your room." he motions over at priscilla as if to tell her that you needed to be escorted upstairs.

usually, you wouldn't just blindly listen to what anyone tells you, but your mind is running at 100 miles per hour. you recognise that gold paint, the writing, the flicks and hairline strokes that stylised your name. you've received a note from the same person before. only that last time, it wasn't as explicit a threat as it is this time.

...

you haven't stepped foot out of your room since sicheng told you to go back this morning. your maids have come up with breakfast and lunch earlier, but now it's well past dinner time, and the food outside your door remains untouched. the sky outside is darkening, with some rogue streaks of orange and pink as the sun dips below the horizon.

nonstop, you've been thinking it over and over in your head. putting together what sicheng told you and what you know yourself. someone close enough to you is threatening your life—but why? sure, there's the obvious reason that in a matter of days, you may possibly take over your father's title of mayor, but who would risk so much to send you a petty note? and everyone in your circle has a good enough status; what would they have to gain from this? surely, there's a blind spot that you must be missing.

your train of thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a knock at your door.

"come in!"

sicheng walks in to find you curled up in bed, knees tucked against your chest. he glances backwards briefly before closing the door behind him, "you didn't eat?"

"i'm not hungry."

you notice that he's not wearing his usual attire. a thin t-shirt covers his torso, and his regular slack pants are replaced by loose-fitting joggers. his footsteps are muted as he approaches you. there seems to be a debate in his mind whether or not he should be approaching you as he stops with at least 10 feet of space in between you and him.

"did you need me for something?" you mutter, patience thinning out on the edge of your voice.

you watch as he opens his mouth, but a response fails to be conjured up without a pause. "no, i just wanted to check on you."

you throw your blanket off of your feet and push yourself off the bed. the distance that sicheng left between the two of you disappears as you draw nearer to him.

you're not entirely sure what to do, or what to say. you look up at him and he returns your gaze. a breath hitches within you that you try your best to stifle. a knot forms in your throat and you swallow hard, dropping your eyes from sicheng.

"hey," he murmurs airily, bringing his hand up to your face. sicheng stops just short of cupping your face in his palms. you reach for his hand, taking it into your own, and he takes that as a sign to delicately graze your cheek with the side of his thumb. the lightness of his touch floats over your skin. "you're okay," he reassures you with a whisper.

it's hard to pinpoint what it is that you're feeling. there were books and lessons when you were growing up on how to be well-mannered, how to hone in your etiquettes, but there were never any rulebooks to teach you how to feel. especially, in a situation like this. how do we know if there's a right way to process our complexities?

you lean into sicheng's touch. "what can i do for you right now?" his tone coming off as a genuine offer of comfort, rather than him sounding like he is indebted to you.

finally, you lift your head, eyes running up against sicheng until it lands onto his again. "just stay with me tonight," though you meant it as a statement, bordering on an order, it ekes out of you with an uncertainty.

he nods, mouthing a soft 'okay.'

with his hand in your grip, you lead him to the edge of your bed. you can feel the hesitance in him, but he doesn't outright stop in his tracks. sliding into your covers, you shuffle over to make room for sicheng. admittedly, he didn't think this was what you meant when you asked him to stay with you tonight. he thought that he would just spend another night in the chair next to your bed, like he did before, but no.

you sit up against the headboard.

"you're... comfortable with this?" his voice is softer than dusk.

you nod, and with that, he slowly slides into your bed, a respectable distance between the two of you.

sicheng lays on his back, one hand behind his hand as you shift closer to him. though he tries his best to hide it on his face, the beating of his heart gives him away when you lay a hand over on his chest.

he rolls onto the arm closer to you, now face to face with you on the bed, leaving your hand in front of his chest on the mattress. he looks at you with a lustre in his eyes, the strong arches of his brows soften and his eyelids flutter.

you're close enough that you can hear the rhythm of his breathing and feel the warmth of his body against you. your fingers inch back onto his chest, running over the fabric of his shirt delicately, and onto his jawline. the tips of your index finger skim the contour of his chin, and up along his cheekbone. your eyes follow your fleeting touch against his face when it runs back down to the corner of his lips.

there's a few seconds in between you inching closer and closer to sicheng, and him whispering.

"we can't."

you stop—your breathing stops as well.

though you don't voice it out loud, the look in your eyes expresses every ounce of regret that you feel. your hand stiffens on sicheng's face, your fingers resting on the edge of his jaw.

his gaze flickers in between your eyes and your lips. it stays on your lips for a moment longer.

"i can't kiss you like we're lovers, when we're not."

the last three words slip out from his lips breathier than the rest.

you draw your body even closer to sicheng's, until there's only a sliver of empty space in between you.

"then, don't kiss me."

you plant a soft peck on his bare neck, and he can't bite back the tiny hum he lets slip. your lips stick to the warmth of his skin, a saltiness to it mixed with the clean scent of his cologne. simultaneously, he tucks your hair behind your ear, fingers laid flat on the nape of your neck as he pulls you in closer.

his hand runs down the side of you, finding a spot on your waist which he grips onto tighter. your teeth grazes against a vein in his neck and a groan catches in his throat.

your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they start swaying forwards, colliding with sicheng's thighs. "what are you doing to me?" he mumbles under his breath, so faintly that you nearly couldn't make it out over your own humming against his neck.

sicheng is overtaken by instinct. his hand find its way between your thighs, sliding up and down over the softness of your skin. you can't help the purrs of approval that tumble out of you involuntarily.

his fingers trace soft, soft rings on the inside of your thighs, stopping just an inch below the hem of your shorts. whatever you've started, you needed to have more of it. you pull your lips away from him and wrap your fingers around his wrist that hovered so close to the heat pooling underneath you. if he wasn't going to touch you, you'd rather have him not tease you at all.

sicheng looks at you through half-lidded eyes with a faint tug on his lips, "put my hand where you want it."

you drag his hand an inch upwards, and almost naturally, sicheng finds his fingers slipping under the fabric of your shorts. "fuck," he breathes out. "you're not wearing anything underneath?" you smirk, unable to say anything because if you did, he would know how insane the raspiness in his voice drove you.

the tips of his fingers trace along the folds of your cunt, smearing your wetness all over. your breath escapes you shakily, and he revels at the sight of you. god. he knew you were pretty but you've never looked prettier than when you're squirming under his touch.

he rubs a loose circle around your clit with his middle finger, eyes steadily watching your every expression. your whole body is electrified. you feel as though you've come alive just from his touch. then, he draws another. you sink your teeth down into your bottom lip, trying to keep your breathing at a constant. the hand that you have wrapped around his wrist untightens itself and it runs up sicheng's arm, nails digging themselves into his bicep as his fingers move faster and faster on you.

then, they slow right back down. your eyelids shutter open fully, looking at him watching you with a gentleness.

he eases one finger inside of you, engulfed into your warmth. a gasp falls upon you quickly followed by a moan, which sicheng muffles with his other hand. he shushes, "you can hold it in, can't you?" you nod your head against his hand covering your lips. so badly, you want to just scream out his name, but you can't.

then, he slides another finger inside. the two of them drag up and down your heated walls, coated in a slickness. you struggle to keep from sounding out noises that ultimately gets caught in your throat. you pull his hand down from your mouth, managing a breathy, "fuck, sicheng."

he continues shushing you, balanced out with a subdued, "i know, i know." the length of his fingers carries on diving deeper and deeper into you, his thumb working small loops on your clit. you can't help but grind down against his hand, meeting him halfway with every stroke. your own fingers replaces his thumb, rubbing so relentlessly that it makes you throw your head back.

you begin to feel a tightening in your core. each moan that comes out of you is strained and muffled, your sealed lips pressing together so hard that it starts to become numb. "i'm so close," you try to voice out but a broken string of whimpers fall out instead.

your knees impulsively push themselves together, trapping sicheng's hand in between your thighs. "yeah, like that, baby. just like that," he picks up the pace in which he plunges his fingers in and out of you, "keep it quiet, though, okay?"

at this point, you've lost focus on what he's saying. the only thing on your mind is how good his fingers feel inside of you, and the violent pressure that your own fingers are exerting isn't helping. your arm is starting to ache when you finally begin to feel the release in your core. the knot tied in your stomach falls apart and so do you. your hand stops and grabs onto sicheng's wrist again. each moan that's knocked out of you quickly transitions into you panting for air. all sicheng can do is caress your cheek as you slowly come down and steady yourself again against his embrace.

you lay there next to him as you're catching your breath. sicheng comforts you with words that you can't quite hear. you take his hand up to your face, fully shutting your legs together, and lick the slickness off of his fingers. he watches you with a groan as you take his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks. you pull his hand away slowly, and when your lips close together, he lets go of a deep sigh.

sicheng looks deeply into your eyes, the faintest trace of satisfaction visible on his face. "get some rest now, okay?"

a part of you doesn't want to just stop now, but the other part of you is worn out beyond repair, not just from this. your post-orgasm crash wears over you like a spell putting you to sleep, and you have no will left to fight it. so, before you know it, you drift off to sleep with sicheng's arms wrapped tightly around you and your face pressed up against his chest.

he wasn't supposed to and he wasn't planning to, but sicheng dozed off last night with you cuddled up against him. the only thought running through his head this morning: i fucked up. and that's only taking into account that he literally slept with you next to him.

the chorus of bird chirps sounds aloud from out in the garden. the bright symphonies fill the morning air.

as slowly as he can, he pulls his arm back from underneath you, a tingling feeling spreading from where your head laid upon it. hushedly, he slides his legs off of the edge of the bed, trying not to wake you. he stands up, and his movements are halted by a hum from you.

your eyes peer open, and sicheng is glancing back at you. "morning," he clears his throat, "i didn't want to wake you."

"it's alright," your voice scratches. you push yourself onto your palms and sit up, straightening your back. "um," you stutter out, looking around your bed to avoid any eye contact. there's an unspoken tension between you and sicheng that you can sense right away.

sicheng presses his thumb into the palm of his opposite hand and echoes your filler words.

you want to ask out loud, 'why is it so awkward?' but that will probably do nothing to help ease the atmosphere.

sicheng breaks the silence, "i shouldn't have... came in last night."

your eyes dart towards him, but he's looking down at your sheets. is it bad that you felt a sinking in your chest right as he said that? you didn't think you regretted what happened, but maybe you should given what sicheng's stance on it is.

"i don't..." you trail off, unable to finish the rest of your thought.

"it was my mistake. we don't... have to talk about it."

"is that what it was to you? a mistake?" words take over you before your rational thinking can catch up. if you really slowed down and thought it over, his words probably didn't warrant as much of a reaction, but in the moment, you're hurt and that's all you can focus on.

"no, i mean," sicheng struggles to find the proper words to expand on his point. as he opens his mouth again to speak, he's interrupted by someone else knocking at your door.

the knock is closely followed by a call out of your name, "miss ln!"

it distracts you from the conversation, but sicheng's comment is actively sitting on the back burner of your mind. "yes?" you return.

"your father has arranged some prior engagements for you. your chauffeur is waiting for whenever you're ready."

you can't help but let out your frustration in the form of a quiet 'ugh,' before going back and thanking the messenger, which they then dismiss themselves.

you're not in the mood for whatever errand your father has arranged for you. one, because your body is so physically tired out for some reason that even getting up out of bed will take a substantial amount of effort, and two, sicheng will follow you to whatever activity and there won't be a conclusion to this conversation you're having because there's no way you're willing to discuss this in public.

sicheng speaks up after the footsteps travel away from outside your bedroom door, "i'll leave you to get ready."

"don't-"

but sicheng completely disregards you, and leaves you alone in your room.

...

turns out that the 'errand' your father has planned for you was to pick out a few outfits from the atelier. this past week you've been so preoccupied busying yourself with activities that you haven't fully recognised that your father will officially announce you as his successor in a couple days' time. that means more responsibilities, more problems. you don't know if you're fully prepared for it, but it was never up to you; it never has been.

you posed like a mannequin for the seamstress for a good couple of hours. every blazer and every skirt being tailored to fit you perfectly. sicheng sat in the beige couch in the corner watching patiently as she took in your measurements, held up garment after garment up to you in the mirror, and finally was content with what she had created for you.

by the time you were done, you had a handful of bags in each hand, each containing a new bespoke outfit made just for you.

you're walking out of the studio with your new belongings in your hands, sicheng opening the door for you. the designer bids you an affectionate goodbye and you step out onto the concrete, heading for your ride parked in the middle of the lot.

during the whole of this visit, sicheng hasn't said a word to you. and vice versa. so when he's the first to say something, you try to look at him with an indifference in your expression.

"let me carry the bags," he offers.

"i'm alright, thank you."

you'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit upset with him. although you knew there's nothing to be achieved from petty displays of stubbornness, you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine: his nonchalance, and frankly apathetic attitude.

he doesn't challenge you, perhaps he knows better than to do exactly that. his footsteps trail behind you as you approach the car. your chauffeur pulls open the door to the backseats for you before returning to the driver's seat. sicheng simply observes as you begin to load in the bags, not wanting to tick you off even more by helping.

he catches a flare in the mirror image of the window panes all the way up on the rooftop of a nearby building. he swivels his head around, looking directly at where the spark was in the reflection. his throat tightens.

"yn, get in the car." the calmness in his voice wasn't something you weren't used to, but as you turn and find him fixated at a spot up on a roof, an alarm starts ringing in your head. "now."

you jump up onto the ledge of the footboard and hop inside with a slight panic. sicheng grabs all the remaining bags and throws it in with you. he hastily slams the back door shut and turns his focus towards that same spot again. you can barely see out of the tinted panes, but you think you hear a distant pop and sicheng's body jerks, curving his spine inwards. he clambers into the front seat, a hint of franticness in his movements. the passenger door shuts with a crash and sicheng flings his head back against the headrest.

"drive. go, now." he tells the chauffeur, clearly in a state of confusion, but he listens to sicheng. his voice is weak and breathy, like he just ran a marathon.

you push your way up to the space in between the front seats. "sicheng... what happened?" apprehension sounding out in your words.

he gives a faint shake of the head, his hand gripping tightly onto the fabric over his shoulder as he swallows a lump in his throat. you mutter a faint, 'oh my god,' under your breath as you go to pull his hand away.

sicheng breathes deeper and deeper. you uncover a small hole in his shirt, the edges splayed out with raw threads hanging off of it.

"sicheng-"

"i'm okay," he exhales. does he know how ridiculous he sounds?

a wave of distress suddenly overtakes you. "you're-"

"don't worry, i'm okay."

half of your mind has gone blank, and the other half is still stuck in 5 minutes ago before whatever happened, happened. words tumble out of you, laced with confusion and unease.

...

as soon as you arrive home, you barge in telling your housemaids to call over your doctor. sicheng has one arm wrapped around the chauffeur as he inches in with his help, his other arm limp by his side.

everything blurs past you.

sicheng is set down on the long leather couch, laying against the arm as he holds his shoulder. someone pushes past you to tend to sicheng's injuries, and all you can do is stand and stare.

...

you sit on the other end of the couch watching as the nurse is wrapping bandage around sicheng's shoulder, his torso completely bare. he grunts as she pulls tighter on the strip looping underneath his arm.

"you're lucky it didn't hit you in the ribs, or it'd be a lot worse."

sicheng mutters a soft, 'i know,' sucking in a steady breath.

the bullet sits in a tray next to the couch, completely clean, the light ricochets off of it and it gleams.

you look back over to sicheng, a deep burgundy already seeping its way underneath his skin. if it weren't for the bulletproof undershirt he was wearing, you'd be looking at admitting him into the ER. still, he's not completely devoid of any injuries.

the nurse said that aside from bruising, he had a fracture to his collarbone. "it should heal on its own anywhere in between 6 to 12 weeks."

you nod, and she gives you a brief smile before she helps fasten the sling around sicheng's neck and begins packing up her kit.

several sets of footsteps approach the doorway to the guest room that sicheng was set down in. you don't look over, eyes fixated on sicheng as he winces at any slight movement that he does affecting his injured collarbone.

the footsteps move in closer and closer to you. sicheng hears them as well and opens his eyes. "sir," he manages gravelly.

you and the nurse simultaneously look up, and there you see your father with his assistant a few steps behind him. he nods towards the nurse.

"the doctor couldn't make it on such short notice, but mr. dong's injuries are mild. i've already informed miss ln of mr. dong's condition," the nurse explains to your father.

"thank you for your help," your father tells the nurse. she picks up the kit that she brought with her and bows her head before leaving the room.

the expression on your father's face is ambiguous to say the least.

sicheng takes your father's silence as an opportunity, "i should've been more careful. i'm sorry..."

your father inhales shakily, "it was too close, yes." he looks over at you sitting on the couch, then back at sicheng, "but yn wasn't injured, and i have you to thank for that."

"it's my duty," sicheng simply responds.

your father gives him a satisfied smile. "take some time to rest, i'll have someone else look over your responsibilities for now."

with that, your father and his assistant leaves you and sicheng alone in the guest room, now allocated for his recovery.

you haven't said a word to him since the car ride back.

you sit on the edge of the couch, palms planted flat on either side of you. "does it hurt?" you look over, and sicheng leans on the sofa back, his injured arm suspended in a black mesh sling. his eyes are closed as he takes in a heavy breath after another.

he opens his eyes up to a squint, glancing over at you. "a bit," you think he's gone insane when you see a slight tug at the corner of his mouth.

you shift over towards sicheng, his unwounded shoulder being closer to you. the bandages the nurse had wrapped him up in doesn't entirely cover up his bruising. a gradient of pink, red, and purple spreads over atop his pecs. your fingers trace over his abdomen, hovering when you draw near his injury. "you scared me," you whisper.

"i know," sicheng says, "i'm sorry."

"why would you do that?"

he looks at you, a dazedness in his eyes, "do what?"

"take a bullet like that." you gulp, feeling the coarseness in your throat.

sicheng expels a weak chuckle. "to be honest, i didn't think i would." you peer at him with a tilt of your head. "i was so focused on you not getting hurt, but now that i think about it..."

he trails off.

"what?" you prompt gently.

"i don't think they were aiming at you."

your eyebrows raise themselves gingerly.

"i mean, they had every opportunity to... shoot you, but they didn't. with the time it took me to even notice them, they could've gotten the job done and vanished."

you realise what sicheng's implying. and you suppose he is right. thinking it over in your head, your reaction wasn't the fastest, given the state of shock and confusion that you were in. so, that means they were gunning for sicheng. but why?

he carries on, "and with where the bullet hit me—it was nowhere even near where you were stood." he shakes his head, "it just doesn't make sense."

"so, why?"

"i mean, i don't-"

"no. why would you ever risk yourself like this? a job like this; it surely isn't the first time you got injured."

sicheng looks at your face, so painstakingly close to his. he runs his good hand through your hair, twirling the ends of a strand in between his fingers. "it's not," he smiles weakly, but falls short of an answer to give to you.

you swallow hard. "you know, you've made it clear to me countless times that you're supposed to keep me safe... but who looks after you?"

"i can manage myself."

"i know—you're more than capable. but..." the words you're speaking has to be dragged out of you, a broken intonation. "that's not the same as looking after yourself."

he drops his gaze from yours, fingers now fidgeting and cracking his knuckles as a means of escape from this conversation.

"you don't let me kiss you, you want to forget whatever we did and dismiss it as a mistake. that's fine, but is that what you want, or is it just your guard?"

he turns his head towards yours, but still avoiding eye contact with you. for a moment, you thought he would say something, but he doesn't.

you sigh.

"just let me take care of you while your shoulder heals, okay? i'm here."

you're about to push yourself off of the couch, you lean back, but sicheng holds onto your hand. he draws you in to the spot you were at before. your faces inches apart from each other.

he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, "kiss me."

your heartbeat drums against your lungs. you slide your fingers up onto his face, pulling him in closer. and gently, you oblige.

his lips fit yours perfectly, as if you were both individually sculpted for each other. you try not to lean onto sicheng given his injury, so the most pressure you put on him is through your hands pulling him closer into you. you press your mouth against the softness of his lips, a tenderness to his movements. he breathes your scent in, and it's like it completely soothes the sharpness in his shoulder. you take him in deeper and deeper. his lips had a hint of peppermint to them, but sweeter. he let you utterly devour him against your own lips, fuelling a desire you didn't know you had in you. god, you didn't want to pull away, but your stupid, stupid lungs had to regather some air within them. and you part from him with a gentle smack.

sicheng's eyelids flutter open, like you'd just woken him from a dream. "if your father ever finds out-"

you shush him with a finger up to his mouth. and you attach your lips onto his again.

you're deep into your sleep when you hear alerts coming in nonstop on your phone. you stayed in sicheng's room with him; he's asleep on the bed and you've decided to give him more room by taking the couch. you open your eyes groggily, the sky outside doesn't make it clear to you what time it is. reaching out onto the coffee table, your phone doesn't stop buzzing in your hand.

the brightness of the screen causes you to squint. messages roll in, from dejun. without reading the notifications first, you click onto the grey bubbles. a litter of text threads open up on your phone. ones reading, "are you okay?" and "i heard what happened," and of the like.

stiffly, you go to type in a response. you tell dejun that you're fine, briefly glossing over the situation.

...

the second time you wake up this morning is when you hear sicheng talking to someone just outside of his room, the conversation muffled. he shuffles back in and you're more or less glaring at him, unintentionally.

"who was that?" you strain.

"um," he lightly massages the back of his neck. "they... found the shooter. and he talked."

that instantly catches your attention. you sit up straight, and signal to sicheng to take a seat next to you on the couch.

he slowly paces himself over, his back kept upright the entire time as he sits down next to you.

"the shooter is no one special, but," he begins, an almost sheepish look on him, "he told us who sent him. and we think that it's the same person who sent you that note, with your earring."

"who?" you jump in, impatient for him to tell you.

sicheng looks into your eyes for a split second. the sky outside is still dark. half of your face is lit by the orange ember that glows out from the fireplace.

"who?" you repeated, this time a little bit louder.

"i don't know how close you are to her. rin? full name, rina lee. her dad... owed some debts to your father."

your brows furrow. rin? you've only met her once, and that was at mrs. xiao's gala. what would prompt her to threaten you to such an extreme?

"i'm sorry, it must be-"

"no- what else do you know?"

sicheng sucks in a quick breath. "well, it's rumoured that her father, mr. lee, took a loan from your father. it was never paid back... and let's say your father didn't like that."

you didn't know what to make of your emotions—what to make of yourself. did you deserve this?

subconsciously, you start shaking your head lightly. you were in denial, but of what, you didn't know.

"i'm sorry," is all sicheng can say to provide you with some semblance of solace.

"i just..." you breathe out a heavy breath, "i can't believe it."

"i know, but it'll be over, soon. you'll take on your father's role tomorrow, isn't that something to look forward to?" sicheng tries his best to divert your focus away from the news.

you scoff. and then a sigh.

"i guess."

sicheng runs a hand over your head, smoothing over your hair, "let's go back to sleep, it's still early."

the whole of yesterday you spent getting ready, signing agreements, and attending meeting after meeting with your father. you'd spent the night before tossing and turning, unsure of if you'd be happy with this route that you're headed in.

last night, you were doing the same. tossing, turning, thinking. you never really had a choice, and it's weird how you feel apathetic towards that.

you've always lived comfortably and maybe you're just not ready for that to change yet, that's what you thought to yourself.

you woke up this morning, still a bit shaken up, mind still fuzzied from how your life has spiralled seemingly out of your control over the last week.

and now you're standing behind the drawn back curtain to the balcony, where your father's speech is being broadcasted live.

"serving as mayor to this beautiful district has been one of my greatest prides. but i'm afraid people grow old, and i am experiencing that for myself first hand."

your father's voice wavers, and it stings your cheeks a little.

"nonetheless, i know there has been rumours going around surrounding my retirement. i would like to keep this concise. today, i am officially stepping down as the mayor of district V, and appointing my daughter to serve the rest of my term." he turns towards you, hand stretching out in your direction, and you step out onto the landing.

your father steps aside to grant you some space on the podium. you take a deep breath in, before crouching down slightly to speak into the microphone.

"it is my honour to be appointed the role of mayor for a district as notable and celebrated as district V." you recite the script that your father's assistant had written for you, the syllables drilled into your brain throughout all the practices yesterday.

you remember the words that the assistant had said to you, 'this district's citizens don't care much for politics. they just want to know if they can continue living in their merry way as they did before.'

"i will see to it that this transition is as seamless as possible, and i will do my best to humbly serve each and every citizen to the best of my ability. thank you."

you back away from the podium and disappear off where it is visible on the landing. your father continues on delivering the rest of his spiel.

it's been less than a minute since you've officially accepted your new position, but you can already feel a tightening around your chest. you plop down on a chair all the way on the opposite end of the balcony, thinking it over again. is this what you want?

that's when you catch sicheng peering into the room from the hallway.

"what are you doing here? you should be resting," you jump up onto your feet.

"i didn't get to see you yesterday, so i thought i should at least congratulate you today."

you sigh, and plaster a grin onto your face, "thank you."

sicheng takes one step closer to you. "so, miss mayor, i suppose i'm no longer at your service?"

slowly, you can feel a genuine smile twinging at your lips, "you wish." you swiftly glance over at where your father is, back still facing you. you steal a quick peck from sicheng. he looks at you with his eyes wild.

"what?" you tease.

even though you're not sure the path given to you is what you want, you know that as long as sicheng is by your side, you'll manage to find joy in the little moments. the stolen kisses. and the fleeting glances.

and it's not for ever, anyway. just until this term ends.

"you are now under me," you whisper with a smirk.

humming, he raises his eyebrows with interest. "so, what's the first order of business?"

you roll your eyes. "focus on healing your shoulder up, and then we'll talk."

he leans in closer to your face, a cheeky spark in his eyes. "yes, ma'am."

© misted-dream 2024

thank you for reading between heaven and hell ! this fic is a part of a series which you can learn more about here ! hope you enjoyed :)

[obeythebutler]

HEYO! Can i ask for some fluff please!! Specifically, the brothers react to mc being in an extra affectionate mood and they decide to cup their demon s/o's face and pepper their face with kisses. Then pulling away after a while with a giddy smile. When the bros ask what the occasion was or why, they would just shrug and say that they just felt like it. Theb smile sweetly

Just lucifer and beel is completely fine if you cant do all of the brothers! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Kiss, Kiss! (Lucifer and Beelzebub)

LUCIFER

His forehead throbs in pain as he stares at the latest report sent to him for approval—another financing proposal for new constructions, and the demon sighs.

There's already a pile besides him that's now taller than his head.

Lucifer straightens his back, and adjusts his glasses so that they now rest on his nose and not threaten to fall off from his face. He dips the ornate fountain pen in ink, and resumes his monotonous work.

With the renovations taking place in the library, and with five new classrooms being built, fifty-five thousand grimm would not be enough to cover it all, given that inflation is at an all-time high at eight percent—

"Are you....busy?"

He looks up, eyes darting towards the doorway where you wait, smiling at him.

"Hey," He says, still holding the pen between his fingers. "Have my brothers been up to their usual shenanigans again?"

Mammon will be hanged upside-down from the chandelier this time, with enchanted ropes for an extra punch. In hell's sake, Lucifer hopes the demon hasn't gone and committed another mistake that he will have to fix.

"No," You affirm, staring at the man who has resumed his work. "I...wanted to be with you for a while, if you're free though." You mumble the last part, and when Lucifer looks up at you from his glasses you have the urge to hide your face. "A-Are you busy?"

What a stupid question. When is he not swarmed with work?

Although, you find that your words have had their effect on the demon, for Lucifer is now sporting that dopey grin that you've come to see in his most vulnerable moments.

"Come here," He asks, putting down his pen.

You oblige.

It's the same old, same old. In the way that you approach him when he's swarmed with work, banishing the solitude that the demon surrounds himself with. When you place yourself on his lap and let Lucifer find his peace with you.

But this, this is new.

He looks on, puzzled, as you cup his face in your hands, their warmth soothing. Your thumb, which brushes across his cheekbones as he's done to you many times before. When your lips are dangerously close, tempting the man.

He expects your lips on his; but Lucifer is equally surprised and happy when you place a kiss on his temple, the action gentle and affectionate. From there, you move towards his cheeks, his forehead, brushing past stray hairs, and the demon closes his eyes and basks in your affection that you generously give him, letting you do as you please.

This is nice.

"Why this sudden burst of affection, love?" He mumbles, placing a kiss on your forehead as he speaks. "Although I'm not complaining."

"Just felt like it."

You shrug, and Lucifer raises a brow.

"Oh?" He places his hands on your waist, head buried into the crook of your neck. You feel his lips there, warm and soft. "I suppose I may just have to be more busy now, if that is what will take for you to give me attention."

"I was the one asking for it!"

He laughs, the sound muffled in your skin.

BEELZEBUB

"There you go."

"Thank you!"

You grab hold of the bowl which is too big for you to handle, but given that you are making dinner for seven demons, including one adorable avatar of gluttony, you suppose the ladle which is as big as your fist is necessary.

Although you'll do whatever it takes to make your demon smile.

Beel stands behind you, watching the stew bubble. The fire from the stove reflects in his eyes, and the kitchen is immersed in a warm glow that banishes the cold that usually seeps in.

It's cozy.

And when you're the one cooking, Beel knows that he has to be patient. Wait, for it makes it all the more better, and also because you'll smack his hand with a spoon otherwise.

You turn around, and the demon takes a step back and sits on a chair, wanting to give you enough space to manoeuvre. He watches you put some dried newts in the bubbling pot, and when you turn towards him Beel assumes you may need something from the shelf behind him.

But you instead wrap your arms around his shoulders and bend down.

His face feels warm.

The demon closes his eyes and lets you do as you wish—pressing kisses on his face—a peck on his cheeks, another on his temple, somewhere on his nose, your lips are perhaps the best thing he's ever felt, and affection blossoms inside him.

It's so sudden, and yet welcome.

Beel smiles, pulling you closer.

It's in moments like these where he feels that he's complete, his eons-old grief temporarily forgotten, because you give him the strength to grow around it. It's when he knows that you are here and you love him, and Beelzebub loves you too.

He basks in the affection you give him, and the demon never fails to tell you that he loves you too.

"Heh..." Your Beel murmurs, cheeks turning pink. "That was sudden, but it felt nice. Though I can't help but ask, why?"

"Felt like it," You say, and smile. The same smile he wants to see on your face, the one he loves so much.

And what will he not do to ensure that he's able to make you happy.

"Could you..," He fumbles with his hands, nervous. "Kiss me again?"

[badomensbaby]

above the law. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader

summary: luke's so sick of his assistant, you, talking all the damn time. he finally does something about it.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. smut, thigh-riding, unprotected sex, verbal degradation, rough bj, slightly dubious consent, office sex, cum-swallowing, cursing.

word count: 4,173

a/n: i wrote this originally back in early 2023 as an au using one of my wattpad original characters. through some editing, i've decided to change the pov and post it here! i hope you enjoy x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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"Hemmings, get your head out of your ass for once and finish this goddamn deal."

The curly headed blonde's eyes snap away from the project he's currently in the middle of, various folders scattered amongst his desk, drowning him in useless paperwork all for a stupid fucking merger.

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" Luke grumbles under his breath, snapping the Bolton file shut and tossing his overly expensive fountain pen on top of the mess he's created. Ashton Irwin, one of three named partners, stands with his arms crossed in the doorway of Luke's corner office, an unamused expression on his face.

"I think you're trying to do all this shit on your own instead of utilizing your associate, that's what I think," the honey blonde scoffs, thick brow raising, "Where's Y/N anyway? You send her across town for your stupid coffee again?"

"No," Luke's quick to defend, though it is the easiest way to get you out of his eyesight for a little while and focus, "I've got her on the Mansfield settlement."

"The Mansfield- that's Mike's case, idiot," Ashton shakes his head, "What's the deal, Luke? You really hate Y/N that much?"

A sigh of exhaustion leaves Luke's lips, head cocking back as he stares at the ceiling. "She's just chatty," he says vaguely, "Can't get a single fuckin' thing done 'cause she won't shut up."

"She's your associate, Luke, stop pawning her off on Mike or he'll swipe her out from under you."

"Good," he forces out a low chuckle, meeting the man's eyes, "He can have her."

"Don't say things you don't mean, you know she's one of the best associates we've got." Luke's eyes roll at his boss' words, sitting up straighter in his desk chair.

"Whatever," he mumbles softly, not willing to admit your brain is undeniably better than half the fucking people he's met. "Can I get back to work now?"

A defeated sigh escapes Ash's lips, "If I don't see Y/N in here working with you I'll make sure to send Calum your way."

"Calum?" the curly haired boy's nose wrinkles, shaking his head, "That's like giving me a fucking puppy, Ash, literally useless."

"Your call." he responds, a little smirk on his lips before pulling Luke's office door shut behind him. A groan leaves Luke's throat at this, the urge to rip every last blonde ringlet from his head at the idea of spending the remaining afternoon going over these stupid files with you.

Regardless of the fact that you’re distracting, which he'll never admit aloud, he shoots you a vague text requiring your presence in his office, no more than twenty minutes from now.

And of course, your dainty little wrist began knocking on the dark wooden door of his office precisely twenty-three minutes after he'd sent the text, only fueling his annoyance. A curt "come in" leaves his lips but his eyes remain on the file, instead of the sinful black dress on your curvy frame.

Tasteful and tightly fit, your fingers instinctively tug at the material resting on your mid thigh, a worrisome look on your features. For as long as you can recall, Luke's always teased you about your wardrobe, especially the bright colors and silken skirts.

"You're late," his tone is flat, hand scribbling away at the paperwork he's nearly memorized already, "I swear to god if you say some bullshit about the elevator again-"

Luke's words die in his throat as he lifts his head, eyes landing on the tight fabric on your frame, hugging every fucking dip and curve of your body. You meet eyes, yours widening, worried you’re going to be lectured again. Was your dress too plain, too boring?

The sweetheart neckline alone almost makes Luke lick his lips, stifling the urge to say something far, far more inappropriate to his associate. "Doesn't matter," the blonde rushes out, "We're gonna be here all night. Preorder from Machi's while you're at it."

"Okay," is all you say, walking closer to his desk, the click of your heels echoing Luke's ears as you bend over, just slightly, grabbing his desk phone and beginning to dial.

After nearly four hours and neither had made a miraculous discovery, a whine of agony leaves your throat, sat across the moderately sized office, snapping yet another useless file folder shut. "Luke,"

"What?" he rasps, tearing his eyes away from the file, meeting your eyes, his own filled with annoyance. "Don't tell me you've got nothing, Y/N."

"There's honestly no reason why Bolton should be merging with Daniels," you sigh out, running a hand through your hair, "Seriously, it's like Pampers merging with Microsoft, they have no interest in one another."

"Christ," Luke mutters under his breath, jaw tensing as you continue to ramble useless information, "Do you ever shut up?"

Mid-sentence, your lips snap shut, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Sorry," you respond softly, and Luke almost feels bad for being so curt, but god you never close your fucking mouth. "Did you find anything?"

A huff of air leaves Luke's nose, "Maybe," he says, twirling his fountain pen between his fingers, leg bouncing aimlessly as he scans over the documents for the umpteenth time. "But you keep fucking talking and it's throwing me off."

"Sorry."

"Damnit, Y/N," his curls bounce slightly as he shakes his head, rifling a hand through them, glancing over at your position on the small sofa, dress slightly ridden up your smooth thighs. "Come here, let me show you something."

Hesitantly, you toss the file on your lap onto the cushion, standing and making your way over to Luke's desk, oblivious to the fitted material of your dress riding a bit higher than intended. Luke swallows thickly, attempting to keep focus on the file in his hand. As you lean over slightly to see what Luke's underlined, his eyelids fall shut, the smell of your perfume annihilating his senses.

"But that means-" you cut yourself off, lower lip tucked between your teeth, palms flat on the corner of Luke's desk, "This isn't about combining their companies, is it?"

"No," Luke finally says after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open, "But we need to convince the judge it is."

"That's impossible, Luke, it's clear they're only doing this for-"

"I know, just figure it out, Y/N."

"That'll take all night," you whine softly, "I'm not sleeping in the office two nights in a row." Luke's teeth grit together at your response, frustrated and fed up with your goddamn attitude.

"If you can't do it I'll find someone who can," he cranes his neck to meet your eyes, narrowed and darkened, "You wanna whine about a few more hours be my guest, but you're not doing it here."

"But-"

"Jesus fucking-" he abandons his pen with a thud, rubbing the palms of his hands against his tired eyes, "I seriously have never met someone so goddamn annoying. All you fucking do is whine and complain and talk my fucking ear off," Luke rambles lowly, "You wanted to be an associate, so be a goddamn associate and shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you."

You stand upright, embarrassment washing over your features, attempting to remain composed as tears threaten your eyes. It's not a secret that Luke's always harbored some sort of annoyance toward you, but he's never spoken to you in such a vile manner before. You swallow the thick lump in your throat, fists balled at your sides. How dare he say those things to you?

"You're an asshole," you say, voice wavering slightly, "You're always a dick to everyone. Nobody's ever good enough for you. I wanted to be an associate to learn and do what I love, not be talked to like a child."

"The fuck did you say to me?" Luke counters with a raised brow, ringed fingers slowly rolling up the sleeves of his fitted black dress shirt. "I think you forget who you work for. Not Ashton, not Michael, definitely not Jessica. You work for me, Y/N, and if you want to keep your fucking job I think you owe me a goddamn apology."

Luke's eyes flicker between yours and the hemline of your little black dress, the skin of your thighs soft and tempting as he widens the distance between his legs, splayed open. "Come here," he says, a bit quieter this time, though he's fucking seething internally, he can't deny how fucking hot it is talking down to the you. Hesitantly, you step closer, stomach swirling with uneasiness.

"You don't wanna go through those files? Fine," Luke forces out a low chuckle, "But I've got work to do and I'm not gonna let you get in the way of that. So what you're gonna do is sit right here," he taps on his clothed thigh, "Shut your fucking mouth and make yourself cum on my thigh."

"What-"

"You heard me."

"Luke, I-"

"It wasn't a question, Y/N. And so help me god if you complain or make a fucking sound you're more than welcome to leave."

For the first time, you’re speechless. Standing so close to the man you swear hates you with every fiber of his being, asking you to make yourself cum on his thigh, you can't help the clench of your own thighs at the thought. Sure, you’ve had those kinds of thoughts about the tall blonde, but never did you imagine his request.

"So? What'll it be?" Luke asks impatiently, a thick brow raised as he grabs his pen, clicking it profusely, leaning back in his chair.

Wordlessly, and swallowing your pride, you step closer, slowly lifting your leg over the blonde's thigh, his foot firmly planted on the small rug beneath him. His eyes almost widen, as if he didn't expect you to comply, and he stifles a grunt when your warm center meets the fabric of his slacks. He can feel how fucking wet you are through the thin material of your underwear, your dress sliding a bit further up your thighs, almost exposing yourself to him.

"Alright then," Luke clears his throat, leaning forward slightly to grab the Bolton file, relaxing in his desk chair. "Get to it."

With her heart rattling in her chest, you grasp the armrest of Luke's chair to ground yourself, filled to the brim with shame. Are you really going to do this? You can still back out, you don't need to show Luke how pathetic you are, fucking leaking on his slacks just from his crude words. You don't even register the rock of your hips against his thigh until a soft moan slips from your lips, catching Luke's attention, his eyes briefly flickering to you.

And fuck is it hot. Your eyes slowly flutter shut as your hips roll in slow motions, the friction from the fabric forgotten, sensitive clit throbbing from your movements. Luke's jaw tenses, tearing his eyes away from the tempting sight, his cock twitching in his slacks.

Shame and embarrassment are out the window as you near your first orgasm, the explicit images of things you’ve only dreamt of unfolding behind your eyelids. You can only fucking imagine how Luke's fingers would feel inside you, the things he'd say as he's bottoming out inside of your tight heat. And it's suddenly overwhelming as you clench pathetically, throbbing against his thigh and your own legs shaking as you finish. "Fuck-"

Luke's eyes widen, biting hard at the inside of his cheek to keep his composure, the sound of you falling apart on his thigh sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. He wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck the daylights out of you until you’re drooling and forgetting your own goddamn name.

Reality comes crashing down as your orgasm passes, ragged breaths leaving your parted lips. Did you really just make yourself cum on your boss' thigh? "Luke-"

"Do it again."

"What?" You ask breathlessly, straightening your back, "You- you want me to do it again?"

"What did I say about shutting that pretty mouth of yours, Y/N? If I tell you to do something, do it," he scoffs, acting as though the sight of you cumming didn't turn him on even more, "If you're pathetic enough to do it once I'm sure you'll have no problem doing it again."

Your sensitive clit throbs helplessly as you swallow, white-knuckling the armrest and rocking your hips yet again. The swollen nub continuously brushing Luke's slacks has you choking down whimpers and whines, fearful of Luke's reaction to you making noise. Though, the idea of what he'll do if you don't comply lingers in your hazy mind.

The intermittent bounce of Luke's leg isn't doing you any favors either, little uh uh's leaving your parted lips.

You’re fucking drenched, the thin fabric of your lace underwear doing nothing to keep your arousal from coating Luke's thigh as you roll and rock your hips a bit quicker, your second orgasm creeping up on you, your head tossing back when a low, drawn-out whine leaves your lips, cumming for the second time like a pathetic whore.

And Luke fucking loves every goddamn second of it.

Attempting to calm yourself down from your release, thighs still trembling, Luke tosses the file onto his desk. He hadn't read a damn word of it anyway, not when you’re grinding your pretty little cunt against his thigh like a slut.

Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush a deep crimson shade as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve soaked the fabric of Luke's slacks with your release, your own goddamn boss. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Don't say another word," he firmly cuts you off, "Get on your fucking knees."

"Why-"

"I'm honestly so fucking tired of listening to you, Y/N," Luke's tone lowers, a scoff leaving his lips, watching as you scramble to the floor. "Gonna shut you up, make good use of that stupid fucking mouth of yours."

Catching sight of the wet patch on his slacks, he nearly groans, ringed fingers fumbling with his belt buckle in record time, desperate for the release of his achingly hard cock. You seem to catch on, widened doey eyes flickering up to Luke's, your hands neatly folded in your lap. Luke pulls his slacks down just enough to allow his length to be exposed, not wanting to show an ounce of vulnerability to you. You don't deserve a sweet intimate moment, you deserve to be fucking ruined.

"Open your mouth," he grunts, hissing as he grasps the base of his cock, your lips parting slowly, the blonde stepping forward and guiding the tip past your lips. "Wanna see you choke on my cock."

He doesn't give you a moment to register his words before he's thrusting fully into your mouth, tip poking the back of your throat and a choking sound emitting from your lips. You scramble to grasp at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady. The sight of your sparkly lipgloss coating his cock is so fucking intoxicating and he wonders why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Using his hands to grasp your hair quite roughly, he continues to fuck into your mouth at a degrading pace, not allowing you to adjust to the forceful movements. Choking and gagging sounds fill the otherwise quiet room, spit dribbling from your lips. "Yeah, you like choking on my cock, Y/N? So much better than hearing you fuckin' talk."

Your nails dig into the fabric of his pants, a grunt leaving Luke's lips as his hips continue thrusting his cock into your mouth. You can barely take all of him, the base nearly untouched. "All you're fuckin' good for, hm?"

And suddenly he's removing himself from your mouth, chest heaving from how fucking wrecked you already look, the small tears pooling your waterline smudging the mascara you'd put on. "As much as I wanna watch you swallow for me," he heaves out, "I wanna feel that pretty fuckin' pussy of yours."

A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, clenching around nothing as you remain on your knees before him, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips and the reddened, aching tip of Luke's cock. "You want me inside you?" he asks.

You have no words, honestly, the burn left behind in your throat from Luke's forceful thrusts halts you from speaking. Instead, you nod. "No, I want to hear you fuckin' say it, Y/N. I'm not an asshole."

"Yes," you weakly respond, "I want you."

"Good. Take that fuckin' dress off while you're at it."

Your shaky and frail fingers grasp the hemline of your dress hesitantly, eyes flickering between his leaking cock and his firm gaze, pulling the fitted material over your head and tossing it aside. Now sat in nothing but a pair of soaked, white lace panties and your heels, Luke's eyes fall on your bare breasts. "So fuckin' pretty."

"Luke-" you whimper quietly.

"Shut up," his hands reach beneath your arms, pulling you to your feet. Luke reaches around you, large hand swiping the array of documents off of his desk, sending them to the floor with a thud. You release a soft gasp when your bare backside meets the cool wooden desk, "Can't say I've never thought about this."

Luke's hands fall to your hips, gripping the skin roughly, and guiding you down until your back is flush with the desk, legs spread pathetically, displaying your clothed core to him. "God, you're so fucking soaked it's pathetic," he laughs lowly, shaking his head, and trailing a finger along the dampened material, coated in your previous orgasms and current arousal. He sends a soft smack with the back of his hand to your swollen clit, causing a whimper to leave your lips. "You'll let me have you any way I want, huh?"

"Luke-"

"Don't talk, I already know the answer," he raises your legs so your heels are resting on the edge of the desk, fingers ghosting the inside of your thighs teasingly, "Because here you are, spread out on my fucking desk like the whore you are."

"Please-"

"God, you just can't listen, huh?" his hands retreat from your skin, fumbling with his necktie, folding it into a neat little square. "I said I don't wanna hear you, Y/N." leaning over you, the tip of his cock pressing against your clothed core, he forces the folded tie between your lips, gagging you. "There, much better."

Luke works quickly to pull the pathetic excuse for underwear down your legs, tossing them alongside your dress on the floor. His cock twitches at the sight of you, fucking glistening and leaking just for him. He trails two fingers up your wetness, slicking his cock with your arousal, and prodding the tip against you. "Look at me," he says, hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Hesitantly, you meet his eyes, your own widening, "Wanna watch you take my fucking cock."

You look so fucking pretty all gagged up for him. Running his tongue along his lower lip, he roughly juts his hips forward, instantly bottoming out and a muffled scream leaves your lips at the stretch. The tears that brimmed your eyes previously begin to fall, feeling so full, "Fuck," he hums lowly.

He rocks his hips a few times, watching as your eyes practically roll back into your head. And god does that make him so fucking proud, staring at you as drool slowly dribbles from yourr lips. He halts, roughly tugging the tie from your mouth, fingers gathering the spit and shoving it between your lips. "Don't be messy," he tuts, before placing the tie back, "Already fuckin' droolin' like a whore and I'm barely getting started."

Luke retracts his cock, hands grasping at your hips and flipping your body, the sound of your stomach colliding with the wooden desk echoing through the room. "I don't wanna look at you," he says, palming the skin of your backside before smacking the smooth flesh. He realigns himself with your entrance, one hand splayed on your bare back to hold you in place.

Roughly thrusting inside once again, the moans and muffled choked sobs barely reach Luke's ears, too fucking entranced by the feeling of your tight little cunt taking him so well. "This," he rocks his hips forcefully, "Is fuckin' mine. Anytime I goddamn want it, you're gonna give it to me."

You scramble to grab the opposite edge of Luke's desk, white knuckling it as he forcefully pounds into you, so fucking deep and quick you can barely breathe. "Such a tight fuckin' cunt," he groans, fingernails scraping along your back, "Taking my cock like a good fuckin' slut."

Instinctively you clench around him, eliciting a deep borderline growl from Luke's throat, hand previously raking down your back finding your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers and yanking you backwards until you’re halfway to his chest. You rest your palms flat on the desk, eyes pinched shut in pleasure while he continues fucking into you at an unruly pace.

"Clench again for me," he moans out, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten, his orgasm slowly beginning to build. You comply, your thighs trembling, clenching as hard as you can. "Fuckin' god," Luke tosses his head back, eyelids fluttering shut in pure bliss.

You choke out another moan around the tie in your mouth, unable to warn the blonde of your third orgasm that's quickly approaching as he continuously pokes the perfect spot so fucking deep inside you’re nearly a drooling mess. The hand not entangled in your hair grips one of your breasts roughly, sending you over the edge in a series of muffled cries. Tears stream down your cheeks, cunt tightening around Luke yet again, the blonde hissing as he feels your release coat his cock, the slick sound of his thrusts growing louder.

"Fuckin' milkin' my cock like a whore," he spits out, grip tightening on your hair as he pulls you closer, thrusting into you impossibly harder. You can't fucking think, you’re a dizzy mess and can hardly form a thought. You can't even feel the drool pooling from the edges of your lips. "Gonna fill up that sweet little cunt of yours and make you mine."

Luke pulls you flush to his chest, your head lolling against his shoulder. Though he isn't one for kissing, he doesn't hesitate to graze his teeth against your exposed neck, sinking them into the supple flesh as his hips begin to stutter, groaning against your neck as he releases inside. You wince at the rough bite on your neck but you’re too spent to care, leaning fully against him as he rocks through his orgasm.

You’re in a daze when he pulls out of you, nearly falling against the desk, the blonde quickly reaching for you to keep you upright. Though he's smug and feeling overly satisfied for ruining you, a swirl in his stomach tells him he needs to make sure you’re alright. He pulls the tie from your mouth, not commenting on the drool spilled from your lips. "Y'okay?"

You can't fucking speak.

Luke's brows furrow with worry, hand delicately grasping your jaw and searching your hazy eyes. Pupils blown out just like his, fresh tears lingering on your cheeks. "Oh, baby," the pet name falls from his lips effortlessly, "C'mon."

Tucking his softening cock into his pants and guiding you away from his desk and towards the couch, he plucks your heels from your feet. Though he'd never in a million years consider aftercare, he's stripping his button down from his broadened frame and slipping your arms inside, buttoning it to cover your exposed body. "Luke," you toss your head back onto the plush couch.

"Hm?" he hums softly.

"I need to- need to clean up," you rasp quietly, a hint of a blush on your cheeks, head reeling from the soreness between your thighs.

"That's what m'here for," he coos sweetly, though the smirk of his lips has you swallowing thickly. His ringed hands trail along your warm and flushed skin, parting your trembling thighs, the sight of his release slowly dribbling out of your sweet cunt nearly has his cock stiffening in his slacks again. "Mm, such a pretty wrecked little pussy."

A gasp leaves your lips as he leans forward, nose brushing your lower stomach, tongue gathering his cum from your sensitive folds. Lapping up every fucking drop, Luke straightens himself out, reaching a hand towards your swollen lips and parting them with his thumb. You’re beyond confused as he tightly grips your jaw, before spitting the contents into your own mouth. Swiping any remnants from his own lips, he narrows his eyes. "Fuckin' swallow."

Clasping your pretty lips shut, you comply, feeling a stir in your stomach when your eyes meet, and swallow.

"My good fuckin' girl."

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 5 - Greedy

Plans to dock at Sabaody are made, and Kid shows his true colours.

WC: 3.6k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

“You sure about this?” Killer asked, sitting at the round table in the navigation room, along with Heat, the two of them supervising you as you sat at a writing desk in the corner, scribing your list of what was to occur at Sabaody to prove your story. “It's not too late to tell the truth. Maybe Kid will go easy on you, chain you in the brig for a little longer for everyone to fuck before we sell you off.”

“This is the truth,” you huffed, struggling with the style of pen you'd been given, a feather tipped fountain pen like you'd often see in the anime. It was certainly a learning curve to use, leaving messy black ink stains over the page where you'd pressed too hard. “You'll see, once this day happens. I don't know if it'll be the first day we're docked though, it wasn't clear how long the Kid Pirates had been at Sabaody before the Straw Hats arrived, but I'm gonna guess it wasn't long.”

“Kid is eager to figure out how to get to the next island and get moving promptly,” Killer noted, “you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, I actually do!” You replied enthusiastically, happy to have a way to prove yourself useful while you waited for the Straw Hats to arrive.

“You know how to get us to the next island?” Killer raised a brow under his mask.

“Yeah,” you replied confidently, “I do.” Killer and Heat exchanged knowing looks before Heat stood.

“I'll get Kid and Wire,” he explained, leaving Killer to babysit you while you mumbled your curses at the fountain pen, groaning as you realised you'd stained the clothes you were borrowing.

It wasn't long before you heard the telltale stomps of the captain cutting through the infirmary on the other side of the wall, before the door slammed open and the man himself entered, huffing in annoyance as he sat at the table. “Heat said the mouse has info, spit it out, I'm busy,” Kid growled.

“One second captain,” you hurried to write the last few points on your page before giving a relieved sigh, “kay, done! Who am I giving this to?”

“I'll take it,” Kid grumbled, holding out his hand for the page. You gave the ink a careful touch to check it was dry before folding it carefully, standing to cross the room and placing it in Kid's hand. He slid it into his belt for safekeeping, with the intention of putting it in his safe later. Unless you suddenly had the ability to manipulate metal, you wouldn't be able to get the note back to change it. “Sit, mouse. Intel, now.”

“Right, of course,” you mumbled, moving to sit in a empty chair before Kid made a tsk and pointed at his lap. You took the hint, sitting on his thick thigh and wriggling a little to get comfortable before his arms stabilised you. He didn't seem to be interested in fucking you right now, it more seemed like he just wanted you as an accessory, or perhaps to remind you of your place here. “How much do you all know about the next location? I'm guessing your log pose is pointing down, correct?”

Wire, who acted as navigator, gave Kid a questioning look, asking for permission, before Kid gave him an affirmative nod. “Yeah, it's pointing down,” Wire supplied, “towards the Redline, in line with Mariejois. Once we realised it was pointing down we set out for Sabaody instead, since it seems to be the closest island to what the pose wants, but I haven't figured out the next island yet.”

“The next island is Fishman Island,” you explained, “located ten thousand metres under sea level. If you can't get legal permission to pass over the Redline through Mariejois, which would require ditching the ship anyway, then you have to go under. There's a gap in the Redline near Fishman Island, that'll allow you to pass through to the New World.”

“News alert, mouse, this ain't no submarine,” Kid growled, pinching your waist and making you yelp.

“I know!” You defended with a pout, “you didn't let me finish!”

“I can assure you I always let pretty girls finish,” Kid purred, making you squeak as he suddenly licked a long stripe up your neck, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. You smacked the arm wrapped around you, scolding him with a growl that made him laugh.

“You tryna fuck or do you want to hear what I have to say, captain?” You huffed.

“Alright, alright,” Kid conceded, “intel first, then maybe I'll fuck ya, get one last go with that tight cunt before your story falls apart on Sabaody.”

“It won't fall apart,” you mumbled, “anyway, the Victoria can make it down there, but you need to have her coated in resin. You'll see when we get close enough that Sabaody has giant bubbles coming from the ground. It isn't actually an island, it's an archipelago of giant mangroves that produce a special resin. The whole place is covered in it, but it can be used for all sorts of things. One of which is coating ships to protect the ship and crew so you can travel underwater. It's not an easy journey even with the resin, only thirty percent of ships make it through to the New World, but your crew will make it. It is expensive though, the resin coating process.”

“So how do we go about getting this resin?” Killer asked.

“You gotta find someone who specialises in coating ships, if they do it wrong the ship could be crushed under the water pressure,” you explained, “I know where you can find a good coater, but I believe you'll need to wait till after the events of my letter take place or it may come as an inconvenience. I won't spoil things too much, but you're gonna want to retain the ability to get off shore quickly until the events of my letter have passed. If you're not ready to leave when the events happen, or the ship is only half coated, then it'd be a waste of your money.”

“And how fuckin’ long is that gonna be,” Kid grumbled.

“Until the Straw Hats arrive,” you sighed, knowing he was going to hate that answer. As expected he made an annoyed tsk behind you, grumbling quiet grievances. “In the meantime, how much do you know about Sabaody?” The question was mostly directed at Wire, since you wanted to ensure the crew docked in the right place.

“Not much,” Wire admitted, “tourist destination, lawless areas, some sort of amusement park, a marine base.”

You went on to explain the way that the archipelago was split up by numbered groves, explaining what you could remember of what groves held what things. It was a good thing you had an exceptional visual memory, thinking hard about the numbered map that was shown in the anime, and the few times places had been shown with grove numbers. Most importantly you told them where the lawless areas were, so they could make plans on where to make port.

“You should avoid docking at grove twenty-seven, if possible,” you finished, “a marine admiral will be causing issues there, so perhaps it'd be best to see if there's any other docks in that area. The Straw Hats will be docking at grove fourty-one, if you want to send a lookout so you know when they're here. Be aware though, there is a group running around impersonating the Straw Hats. Actually, fun fact, one day the same group will impersonate your crew.”

“Ha!” Kid barked, “Like anyone could look as impressive as me!”

“You're not wrong,” you laughed, “they do a fucking awful job. They don't even give Killer a real mask, just a shitty hat and stripes painted on their face. It's awful. Don't even get me started on the monstrosity that was their impression of Wire.”

“I'm guessing then that this fake Straw Hat will be easy to recognize?” Wire asked.

“Just tell your lookout not to mistake him for a fat man having a midlife crisis and they'll be good,” you offered, “the real luffy is practically a child.”

“A child that took down two Warlords…” Heat mumbled.

“Hey, I didn't say he was a weak child,” you replied, “he's not at his full strength yet though, doesn't even know what haki is. Speaking of which, is there anyone here who can teach me to control mine?”

“Aye, Kil can teach you,” Kid replied, to which Killer groaned and rolled his eyes under his mask.

“Why do I have to be the one to teach her?” Killer complained. “Does she even need to know how to use it?”

“If her story proves to be true, she's more useful if she can fight,” Wire replied, “and I for one am not going to be babysitting her every battle so she doesn't get her ass served to her.”

“We'll see whether she's full of shit first though,” Kid added, “she's probably lying so she can get some dick, so you don't have to worry about it.”

“Can you all stop talking about me like I'm not here!” You shouted, “and I'm not full of shit! I may be a fangirl but that doesn't mean I'm here for just dick, I genuinely want to help this crew. You're all gonna have to be way nicer to me after all this if you want me to give you information on your future cos right now you're all acting like dickheads, maybe Trafalgar would prefer me on his crew.”

“Like Trafalgar could make you cum like we do,” Kid growled, grabbing you by the cunt and making you squeak. “Why don't ya take your clothes off and I'll remind you why you're a Kid Pirates girlie?”

“I politely decline getting fucked against a table again,” you huffed, “my tailbone still fucking hurts.”

“I'll fuck ya wherever I like, mouse,” Kid hissed.

“Then you'll be fucking your hand, you brute,” you spat, wiggling your way out of his lap, “take me to your bed or don't take me at all, I'm fragile, you ass.”

“So the mouse has a voice,” Kid laughed, “alright then, just this once little mouse, I'll give ya what ya want.”

You squeaked in surprise as Kid charged at you, grabbing you and flinging you over his shoulder. Your face was buried in his feathery coat as he smacked your ass, all of the commanders in the room openly laughing at you. “The mouse sure does like to squeak,” Wire laughed.

“I'll have her screaming in no time,” Kid smiled, “Wire, go ahead and navigate the ship to Sabaody, dock wherever the fuck it was she said to. When do you think we'll arrive?”

“Weather permitting, should make land tomorrow around noon,” Wire replied, “the others have their restock lists all ready to go.”

“Good, I have a mouse to play with then,” Kid barked, opening the door that went straight to the deck, “any trouble, tell Killer first, I'm fuckin’ busy.”

With that Kid left the room, yanking down your pants and borrowed underwear and exposing your ass to anyone who might be on the deck. You expected snickers from the crew but instead received only amused, hungry glances, or eyerolls directed at the captain. It seemed Kid debauching women in plain sight was a common occurrence here, and you wondered how long it'd be until one of the commanders fucked you on deck in full sight of everyone. The thought made your pussy clench more than you thought it would. Kid shamelessly pushed his thumb between your folds as he walked, sliding it inside you for a moment to collect your slick before using it as lubrication to rub your clit.

“Kid!” You protested, trying to squirm, but he was far stronger than you.

“Don't act like you don't like it, mouse,” he laughed, pushing two fingers inside you and making obscene squelching sounds for all to hear, “you're fucking soaked, you like seeing everyone watch you get finger fucked huh? Bet you'd love it if I tied you to the mast and let everyone have a go.” Your pussy betrayed your thoughts as you tightened around him, biting your lip to hold back a moan as you made eye contact with one of the crew, Reck you remembered his name was, and he gave you a shit eating grin that told you he wouldn't be against that idea. “Fuck, you really tightened when I said that. Be a good girl on Sabaody and maybe we'll make it happen, aye?”

“Yes please captain,” you moaned as he slid in a third finger and continued finger fucking you as he walked. The idea of being strapped to the mast and used was making you drip an embarrassing amount. You didn't think you were into exhibitionism but the last few days had certainly awoken something in you. You were sure it was Wire's shit eating grin while Kid fucked you that had done it, that one look had somehow irreversibly altered your braincells and now all you wanted was to be used and humiliated by the Kid Pirates.

“You like pussy too, mouse?” Kid asked as he made his way up the stairs, “we got a few girls here who like pussy, maybe you could show them a good time too.”

“I do, captain,” you admitted, whining as he removed his fingers to open the door to the stern castle. Your mind was spinning, which ladies aboard would take a turn with you? Oh you so hoped Quincy and Hop were interested.

“Aye, calm down mouse,” Kid laughed, giving your ass a spank, “so fuckin’ needy, I'll have ya filled up in a minute.”

Kid hurried up the last set of stairs to his room, stomping across the expanse of the dining section and throwing you on his bed. Your body bounced a few times against the mattress as he started to remove his clothes, and you quickly followed suit, your pants already gone somewhere on the deck, your used underwear now stolen by another crewmate to be used for their own pleasure later. Kid was careful to put your letter somewhere safe until you were out of the room for him to put it in his safe properly. He loomed over you as he shuffled onto the bed, pushing you onto your back. An accidental giggle escaped you in anticipation as Kid's thick cock brushed against your stomach.

“Something funny, mouse?” Kid barked, closing his hand around your neck, pushing you flush against the bed.

“N-no captain,” you moaned, Kid's other hand finding your entrance again and sliding three fingers in with ease, “fuck, sorry captain, just, excited for you to fill me.”

“Always so eager,” Kid chuffed, “I hope your story turns out to be true, such an obedient little thing, we could have so much fun with you.”

“You will, captain,” you whined as he pulled out his fingers and pushed the fat head of his cock against your entrance, “I'll be so good for you captain. You'll see.”

You both groaned as his cock slid inside you, stretching your hole wide. He filled you so well, you were ashamed to admit how much you'd missed his cock since he'd fucked you in front of the others. It felt just as good as you'd anticipated, perhaps even more so now that your tailbone wasn't being ground into a hard tabletop.

“Greedy little mouse,” Kid grunted as he thrust into you, “you prove you're not full of shit and we'll make you our permanent whore, Heat's certainly been in a better mood since you appeared. We'll keep your cunt good and full, and I'm sure my girls would enjoy riding that pretty face of yours. You like that huh? Fuck your pussy got so tight, you want my girls riding that pretty face? Squirtin’ on it? Greedy, greedy little mouse.”

“W-which girls,” you whined, you were getting hot on the idea of being squirted on but needed to know who if that thought was going to get you there.

“That keen are ya? I'm here pounding your cunt and you're thinkin’ bout pussy,” Kid laughed, giving you a particularly hard thrust that knocked the air out of you, “Quincy, Hip and Hop, sometimes Emma but she's a lil shy. You like that huh? Want my girl Quincy cumming on your face? She's a real screamer too.”

As though on cue the thought of having the tall ginger grinding on your face had you seeing stars, gushing on Kid's cock with a breathy moan. “Yer showing your true colours now, mouse,” Kid laughed, pulling his cock out and admiring the mess you'd made on his blankets, “flip over and I'll show you mine, ey?”

You eagerly rolled onto your front and shuffled to be in front of him, and he quickly resheathed himself, before grabbing at your tits and using them as grapple points to pull your torso towards him. You were essentially in his lap as he held your hips and used yours like a cocksleeve, forcing you up and down on his cock. His fangs brushed against your neck, his cock throbbing inside you as he imagined how sweet your blood would be. Pure humans, the rarity that they were, were always so very sweet. Only a faerie was better, in his opinion, though faerie blood also came along with intoxication.

Kid nipped at you neck, testing the waters, but the way you moaned and squeezed around him with each pinch of pain spurred him on further. Finally his fangs broke through your soft flesh, zeroing in on the thick vein in your neck where he could feel your pulse pounding. Your breath stopped as you felt the sharp bite and your body began to register it as an attack, before something began to warm your veins and make you feel giddy. Your body shuddered as his venom ran through you and made you pliable, his cock still pistoning in and out of you as he drank from you. He'd been holding back from feeding from you, not knowing what you were made your blood dangerous. If you had been a witch or a siren your blood would have been poison to him, but he couldn't hold himself back any longer, he was feeling too greedy, and as the sweet taste that was uniquely human flooded his tongue he knew he was right to take the risk.

He wouldn't last long like this, but then again neither would you. Your blood being human only further confirmed your claims, and if you truly weren't lying to him then he couldn't afford to accidentally drain you, you would be far more useful alive. Not to mention how wonderful it would be to have a willing feeder human aboard his ship, every vampire aimed to acquire such a familiar in their home, and with your willingness to serve his cock too you would be quite the treasure. His venom had done its job and you were now more than out of it, off in your own little world as he used your body for his own pleasure. You came, more than once, but you didn't even register it, too busy seeing stars and giggling between moans. You didn't understand why you felt high, but you were too dazed to think about it. You were too dazed to even realise he was drinking from you, another purposeful effect of the venom. You vaguely registered Kid's praises, the slide of his tongue over your neck as he closed the bite wound, the dribble of warm blood down your front before Kid swiped it with his finger and licked the digit clean.

At some point Kid finished, roaring as he unloaded inside you before leaving your twitching form laying on his bed. He wiped his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand as he watched you claw at the blankets, still shivering from aftershocks from your orgasms and his venom. “Look at you, mouse,” Kid laughed, “you're a fucking mess.”

Your head was dizzy, you thought from whatever you'd been drugged with but in reality it was from the lack of blood in your body. You should have been mad that you'd been drugged, but you felt so euphoric that you knew already you'd ask for whatever it was again in future. Your whole body felt sensitive, every little brush of the blankets against your skin made you feel like you were about to cum again, and Kid running a finger up your bare backside wasn't making it any better. He took advantage of your sensitivity, pushing your ass up so he could bury his face between your thighs. He'd barely even touched his tongue to your clit before you were gushing on it, making Kid moan as he drank from you there too. He was already imagining how sweet you'd be on your cycle, he hoped you'd be around long enough to find out. None of the other women on board menstruated, they weren't any of the species that had that sort of cycle, which was a real damn shame.

“Yer sweet down here too, Mouse,” he ran his tongue through your folds one more time before you went limp against the bedding, “sweet little mouse, such a good girl for me.”

All you could give him was a tired “mmm,” before you were lulled to sleep, still laying sideways across Kid's bed, naked, Kid's seed leaking from your cunt and your head spinning from his venom.

A/N: If you're reading this on release day I'd super appreciate if you voted on this poll so I can have your input on future chapters! Thanks 😊

[Next Chapter]

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[misc-obeyme]

Lucifer's Favor

I'm continuing my daily chat series, but it's a completely random order. I originally wrote a scene for one of Lucifer's Nightbringer chats, but it ended up being so angsty and sad that I decided not to post it. I wanted to write some fluff! So this chat is from the OG. Though if anyone actually wants to read the sad Nightbringer one, I'll post it lol just hit up the ask box.

GN!MC x Lucifer

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of.

LUCIFER: Could you come to the council room after class? I'm absolutely buried in paperwork. I just can't seem to catch up. I was hoping that you could help me feel better with your presence. All you have to do is sit beside me. Would that be possible?

MC: Are you sure you want me?

LUCIFER: Indeed. It has to be you, MC. Please head straight to the council room once your classes are over. And be warned that I won't be letting you go for the rest of the day.

You stretched as the bell finally rung through the classroom, indicating the end of Seductive Speechcraft. You shoved Mammon, who was engrossed in his D.D.D. and didn't seem to notice the end of class. He looked up at you as you stood from the desk, then looked around at the other students already leaving the room.

"C'mon," you said. "Class is over."

You picked up your bag, slinging it onto your shoulder and heading toward the door.

Mammon scrambled to follow you. "Finally!" he said. "Man, that class is borin'."

You both started down the hall together, but Mammon stopped when you took an unexpected turn, headed toward the council room.

"Oi! Where are ya goin'? Home's this way!" he said, gesturing down the opposite hall from the one you were going down.

You paused and turned back to him. "I know, but I told Lucifer I'd go to the council room after class."

Mammon shuddered. "Why would ya do that?"

You shrugged. "He asked me to."

Mammon seemed to consider this for a moment. He frowned and muttered to himself, "Yeah, he's got a lot of paperwork…"

"You think I should just go home instead?" you asked.

Mammon waved a hand at you. "Nah. Go on, ya don't want to keep him waitin'!"

You nodded. "All right, then I'll see you later."

Mammon waved goodbye as you headed back down the hall. You smiled to yourself as you went. Mammon always wanted to be with you, but he understood Lucifer, too. He knew that Lucifer would be able to get through his piles of work easier if you were by his side.

You reached the council room door and found it slightly ajar already. You opened it further and stepped inside, pausing there in the doorway.

Lucifer was already seated at a desk that was absolutely covered in piles of paper. You grimaced at the towering stacks.

Lucifer looked up and saw you, a satisfied smile crossing his features. "Ah, MC. Thank you for coming."

"Of course," you said, moving across the room. There was a chair positioned on the side of the desk and when you sat in it, you were facing Lucifer. "Is this where you want me to sit?"

"Yes," he said. "As I mentioned before, all you need to do is sit beside me."

"All right," you said. "Then I'll sit beside you for as long as you need me to."

Lucifer smiled at you, his expression unusually soft.

As he resumed his work, you took out a textbook and began to read. The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of your breathing and the soft hssh of Lucifer's fountain pen. Occasionally you would flip a page or Lucifer would pull another item from one of his many stacks.

You were comfortable in the padded chair and in Lucifer's presence. He had asked you to come here to make him feel better, but you couldn't deny that being with him made you feel better, too. You sat in companionable silence for some time, each of you focused on your respective work.

A few moments passed before you realized you could no longer hear the sound of Lucifer's pen. You looked up from your book to see him staring at you.

When your eyes met, he smiled. It was a knowing, possessive smile that sent a little shiver down your spine in a good way.

You fidgeted a little, suddenly shy to be under his gaze. "Do you want a snack?" you asked, reaching for your bag. "I have some pastries Luke gave me earlier."

"I suppose I can take a short break," he said, as though he wasn't already ignoring the papers in front of him in favor of staring at you.

You pulled out the little bag of pastries Luke had given you, opening it and handing one to Lucifer before taking one for yourself.

As you nibbled on the sweet treat, you regarded Lucifer as he leaned back a little in his own chair. He looked tired as he ate the little pastry you had given him. He was good at covering it up when he was overtired, but you knew. After all the time you'd spent with him, you could tell.

You noticed right away when, upon finishing the pastry, Lucifer began to stretch out his fingers slowly. He paid extra attention to his writing hand.

You frowned. Certainly he was getting cramps in his hands after all this work. You finished off your own pastry, then held out a hand to him, determination stamped across your features.

Lucifer looked at your open hand, then looked up at your face. He frowned. "What is it you want, MC?"

"Your hand," you said.

Lucifer smirked. "Ah, I see. You should have told me sooner."

He put his hand into yours, gripping it tightly. You turned his hand over, fingers sliding beneath the edge of his black glove.

"What are you doing now?" he asked.

You didn't respond right away, instead slowly removing his glove, carefully pulling out every finger. You set the glove aside on the desk then took his hand in both of yours. You began to press your thumbs into his palm, massaging it gently.

Lucifer sucked in a breath at this action, which caused him to blush. He frowned again.

"Did you think I didn't notice the way you were flexing your fingers as though they were in pain?" you asked, eyes on your task. "I know you have a lot of work to do, Lucifer, but you really need to be more careful. You could really hurt yourself. What if you got carpal tunnel or something?"

Lucifer's soft laugh caused you to look up at him. "Do you really think demons can get carpal tunnel?"

You had to consider this question because it wasn't something that had occurred to you. "That really isn't the point," you said at last, continuing to massage Lucifer's hand, now working on each individual finger. "You were experiencing pain from too much work and that means you should stop for a bit. Whether you can actually get carpal tunnel or not isn't relevant."

You were taken by surprise when he pulled his hand from yours, turned it around, and interlaced your fingers with his. He stood up from the desk, pulling you up with him. You were now in close proximity and your eyes widened as your heart began to race.

He was smirking again as he reached up to brush your cheek with his other hand, still gloved. "I hope you know that you are the only one who would dare to scold me like this and get away with it."

You tried to calm yourself even as you felt the blood rushing into your cheeks. You met his gaze seriously. "I just want you to take care of yourself."

This statement seemed to genuinely touch Lucifer. His smirk fell away and he pulled you even closer. Your hand was still tightly gripped in his and his other arm circled around your back. "You needn't worry so much about me, MC. I will always be at my best as long as you are beside me."

others in this series:

Mammon | Barbatos | Solomon | Leviathan | Simeon

Asmodeus | Diavolo | Beelzebub | Belphegor | Satan

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[onlymingyus]

Birds of a Feather (teaser)

pairing; joshua hong x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), fluff, crack

warnings; university au, alcohol, drug use (marijuana), food/drink, betting, bad jokes, borrowed memes, simp!joshua, jealousy/possessive nature, irresponsible use of a hot tub and a friend's personal space, slight dom!joshua, mild dom/sub dynamics, pet names, sex health/birth control talk, unprotected sex, breast play, pinning/man handling, dirty talk, oral (m & f receiving/giving), 69, scratching, crying, size kink implied, exhibition kink implied -- as always I'm sure there is something I've left out.

w/c; 14.3k (800 and some change -- this teaser)

a/n; first of all thank you so so much to my dear @onlyhuis for proofreading this and thank you for literally being the reason it exists. this is based on a true story -- names have been changed for privacy and it's not completely true but bird kid should find a new place to live. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me come up with an amazing title, also without june, @highvern, @shuadotcom, and @horanghater just know this fic would have sucked majorly. thank you so much for helping me figure out my shit and adding so much to this.

this fic will be released sunday 3/17 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

Joshua rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he leans his forearm against his door, looking down at the cute girl standing in his dorm room. You were holding a clipboard and had a look somewhere between serious and annoyed on your face. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

You hadn’t had the chance to meet every single resident in your hall but today you were making some very interesting discoveries. For example, apparently Eros lived just five doors down and he slept in late. Clearing your throat, you look down at your clipboard in an attempt to hide how shy his gaze is making you feel. 

“I’m Y/N; would you sign my petition to evict the bird kid? I know that sounds harsh but just to get him to, like, get his own place off campus with his bird.” 

His lips pulling up into a small grin, Joshua watches you start to ramble about your cause as you tap your pen against the paper attached to the clipboard. It seems you have several signatures so far. He had heard about this bird kid and he had also heard the bird in question several times. 

“Sure, I’ll sign it. Anything to get him to stop letting the damn thing use the water fountain as a bird bath.” 

Joshua watches as your eyes lift towards him again as he agrees with you. With the clipboard securely in his hands, you scoff in agreement, lifting your hands to express how important your argument was. 

“Right?! It’s gross. I drink out of that fountain. I mean, I used to...“

Nodding, Joshua signs his name and offers you back the clipboard before resting his shoulder on his door frame. You watch his smile pull to one side before he furrows his brows and gestures over his shoulder. 

“My roommate is still passed the fuck out but I’m sure he will sign too. Swing back by later and catch him when he’s actually breathing.” 

Pulling the clipboard to your chest, you press your lips together, trying to keep your eyes on the man’s face even as you feel them being drawn to where his t-shirt was straining around his bicep. Clearing your throat, you lean back a bit and glance down at his name, whispering it to yourself before nodding and daring to look back up to find Joshua still watching you.

“Okay… I’ll do that, Joshua.” 

Turning towards the next door, you pull your eyes from his handsome face even as Joshua leans out of his doorway to watch you, lifting his hand to wave. 

“Good luck with your petition, Y/N. See you later.” 

Groaning into his drool soaked pillow, Lee Chan forces himself to turn over and look towards his roommate, who was standing in the doorframe watching the hallway. He liked Joshua; if anything, the man was more like a brother than a roommate at this point but he was talking far too loudly for a Saturday morning. 

“That has to be a girl if you are acting like a simp this early.” 

Rolling his eyes, Joshua shuts the door behind him, turning towards the younger man and shooting him a look before reaching for one of the bottles of water and tossing it towards him. Despite usually having great eye to hand coordination, Chan hisses in pain when the bottle manages to meet his chest instead of in his hands. 

“And? Your point? Drink your water; I’m sure you have one hell of a headache.” 

Chan wasn’t going to argue with Joshua on that point. He did have a headache that could rival all other headaches. He couldn’t remember much of the night after their friend Seungcheol had shown him where the punch bowl was and challenged him to a “drink off.”

Reaching for the pain medicine on his nightstand, Chan groans, trying to open the bottle as Joshua watches, only to sigh and take it from his hands, doing it for him. Muttering a thanks, Chan takes the bottle back, leaning back onto his bed to take the medicine, looking up at the ceiling. 

“Who was the girl?” 

Pursing his lips, Joshua falls back on his bed, trying to hide the small smile on his lips, thinking about the short interaction with you and how cute you had been. It wasn’t like anything had even happened or that there would be anything that would come from it but it was nice meeting a new neighbor so to speak. 

“Uh, she said her name was Y/N. She’ll be back around later. Told her you’d sign her petition.” 

Chan’s brows furrow at Joshua’s words as he lifts his hand to wipe at his mouth, water starting to run down towards his chin. 

“What? Why would I do that?” 

“Because it’s not that big of a deal and you’ll agree with it. It’s about that dude who has a bird. Something about getting him to move off campus with it.” 

Making a face at the mention of the bird, Chan feels his headache behind his eyes, even thinking about the squawking that could be heard late at night and early in the mornings. 

“You’re right. I’ll fucking sign it. I’ll forge names. I’ll help the son of a bitch move.” 

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[talktonytome]

leon bridges 9 💚

9. you stay on my mind… when I fly above

Langford smirks at Tommy, eyes flicking from the picture of Evan he has taped to the panel of the cockpit. “That your boy, Kinard?”

“No, it’s some stranger whose picture I stole,” Tommy deadpans.

“Ass,” Langford mutters, chucking a pen at him, which Tommy catches, to the other man’s annoyance. He’s “helping” Tommy conduct a pre-flight inspection, but really, he’s just here to give him shit.

Jack Langford joined Harbor a year after Tommy and he’d annoyed Tommy into friendship with him. He doesn’t mind Tommy’s snark and didn’t bat an eye when he found out he was gay. He even took it upon himself to act as Tommy’s wingman (pun not intended) before he found Evan.

“So, when are you introducing us?”

“Oh I’m not sure he, or anyone should be subjected to you so soon,” Tommy grins, checking the last few items of their list. Everything’s in order, he takes care to keep his machines running in tip-top shape.

“Come on, I’m a goddamn delight and you know it,” Jack whines. “Bring him to trivia night next week!”

Tommy doesn’t tell him the invitation had already been extended by the rest of the crew. He’d asked Evan, who eagerly accepted. “Ok, ok, just for you, Jack,” he sighs, tone all saccharine sarcasm.

“Ah, I knew you loved me, Kinard,” Jack blows a kiss at him.

Tommy shakes his head and can’t help but smile. 118 repressed Tommy would never believe he’d be here, bantering about his boyfriend, with another man in their line of work.

“He’s gonna kick everyone’s ass at trivia- he’s a fountain of knowledge,” he mentions proudly, not hiding the stupid, fond look on his face.

“Wow, you’ve got it baaad,” Jack whistles. “I’m glad you’re bringing him. I mean, we have to meet the person who’s got our Tommy so besotted. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve seen ever seen you keep anything in here that isn’t necessary,” he looks pointedly at the picture of Evan.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy says, rolling his eyes, and then with a soft smile, “he’s… something else, unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I’ll bet,” Jack smiles. “In fact, I already like him, if he’s got you mooning like that,” he declares, bumping Tommy’s elbow before they slip into their seats.

They buckle in and Tommy prepares them for take-off. He checks the throttle and ignites the engine, inspects the controls and gauges, then opens the throttle, watching for proper RPM. When everything looks as it should, he turns off the hydraulics to check the collective, then turns them back on. He looks at the gauges and fuel again to make sure they’re all still good.

And they’re good to go. He raises the collective while adding left pedal, engages the cyclic, and they’re off. He still gets a rush every time he takes a chopper into the sky- it never gets old. He takes in the vast blue of the sky and reaches out to touch his fingers to the picture of Evan in front of him.

He’s in mid-laugh, eyes bright and that damn dimple shows in full force. Maddie has snapped it on her Polaroid camera, while he was laughing at something Tommy said. She slipped him the print with a wink and a knowing smile, and Tommy had no choice but to tape it to his cockpit, where Evan could always accompany him.

The lonely skies never really bothered him before- he enjoyed the solitude. But the thought of having a piece of Evan up there with him every time filled a hunger in him he hadn’t even realized was there.

Jack breaks the silence with a click of his phone camera, catching Tommy (seriously, who keeps their keyboard sounds on??) He’d only been silent before because he knows Tommy likes to focus when he’s taking off.

“Delete that, Langford!”

“Hm, don’t think so, bud. I’m sure Evan will want to see this,” he nods to himself. “In fact, I think I should submit this to the dictionary. They’ll put it right next to down horrendous.”

Tommy grimaces at the lingo Jack often interjects in conversation. I have a Gen Z nephew, sue me, is his usual defense. “I’ll crash this and take both of us down,” he mutters darkly.

Jack reaches over to push his shoulder. “No you won’t. Then your man will be all sad and lonely and you wouldn’t want that, right?” He shoots him a smug smile.

“No, no I wouldn’t,” Tommy says under his breath and smiles.