#you could open up their luggage and just. find his spare clothes.

[discordiansamba]

back on my mer zuko au bullshit again. local fire prince just straight up doesn't go anywhere if there's not an ocean-linked body of water nearby even after he gets the ability to get legs again. when he's fire lord he mostly travels by druk because there's a difference between "why is the fire prince's hair always damp" vs "why is the fire lord's hair always damp".

(also because it's harder to have a member of the gaang be on 'bring zuko his clothes' duty as they get older. it's sokka a disproportionate amount of time.)

[emilysholster]

Mile High Club (David Rossi x Reader)

Summary: you and David can’t control yourselves on your way to your vacation

Tags: NSFW, teasing, semi-public sex, plane sex/mile high club, [unprotected] PinV sex, assumed birth control, (fem!reader)

Translations: amore (love), dolcezza (honey), gattina (kitten), tesoro (treasure)

A/N: inspired by a suggestion from anon, ty!

“You? Going on vacation? Yeah right,” Morgan laughed in Rossi’s face. The two of them sat across from each other on the BAU jet. The team was flying back to Quantico after successfully closing another case.

“Yes, me. Why is this so hard to believe?” Rossi asked incredulously.

Reid chimed in from where he was seated across the aisle. “Probably because you’ve told us multiple times that you don’t ‘do’ vacations.”

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Well, this is more for Y/N than it is for me. I’d like to do something nice for her.”

“Breaking one of your truths is more than doing ‘something nice’, Rossi,” Morgan chuckled. “Y/N has you head over heels.”

The older agent said nothing and turned to face the window, but not before the team caught a glimpse of the smile that adorned his lips.

•••

You grinned in excitement as you walked down your driveway to David, who waited expectantly outside the taxi. “I can’t believe we’re actually going,” you exclaimed, embracing him. You hadn’t seen him in the past few days, both of you busy sorting the logistics and packing before your trip.

Much to your surprise, David had been the one to suggest the idea of a vacation. You’d been together for a few years now, and always figured with the nature of his work and his known disinterest in vacations that it wasn’t necessarily something you’d together. But he’d planned all the details and now the two of you were going to spend two (two!) weeks in Portugal, exploring the country’s coast and its famous wine region.

David pressed a kiss into your temple before taking your bags from you to put them in the trunk. “You and everyone else,” he chuckled.

Once the both of you were inside the taxi, the driver began the trip to the airport. You turned to David, a pressing question in your mind. “Are you sure you won’t go crazy being away from the BAU for two weeks?” You asked. David’s dedication to his job was something you really admired, but you worried it would get in the way of him enjoying the trip.

David intertwined his fingers with yours and pressed a kiss against your hand. “Trust me, amore. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than in Portugal with you for the next two weeks.”

You smiled contentedly and squeezed his hand. “Besides,” he continued, a devilish smirk on his face. “I can think of a few ways we’ll be spending our time.” David began pressing kisses into your hair and face, making you giggle.

“And by that I’m sure you mean spending our days enjoying the sun and the culture of a beautiful country,” you teased. David’s hand was making it’s way up your thigh, getting dangerously close to your center.

“Well there’s that,” he said lowly in your ear. “Among other things.” His lips captured yours in a deep kiss as his hand cupped your sex over your clothes.

You gasped, grabbing his wrist to stop him from going further. “Dave,” you hissed, surprised by his brashness. There was warmth spreading under your skin, especially with the driver being right there. You spared a glance towards the front seat, but he thankfully seemed to be none the wiser.

You turned your attention back to David, who seemed delighted that you were now hot and bothered. Before you could say anything further, you felt the taxi slow to a stop and looked out the window to see that you’d arrived at the airport. “Looks like we’re here,” David winked at you before opening the door.

•••

You were just about home free, having gone through check in and most of security seamlessly, when the TSA agent seemed to find an issue with your luggage.

“What do you have in there?” David leaned in and asked you quietly as the agent put your suitcase through the scanner again.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back. You were wracking your brain trying to think of what could be setting off their system. You hated this part of flying - so many rules; it was easy to forget something and cause a whole issue at security.

“Sir, ma’am, can you step this way please?” The two of you followed the agent to a table next to the security check, where she put your suitcase down and began unzipping it.

You felt your cheeks flame when you saw that you’d packed your suitcase in a way that meant the new lingerie you’d bought for the trip was the first thing visible. You’d spared no expense - you had two new matching sets, a dainty slip, and a very revealing teddy - all of which were clearly on display for you, David, and the agent. Remaining professional, the agent politely maneuvered around your garments to find the offending item.

You heard David clear is throat and shuffle next to you. You glanced over at him and saw that he was now standing with his arms clasped in front of him, almost as if he was trying to…oh. You returned your attention to the agent, trying to stifle the smile making its way onto your face. You’d wanted the new lingerie to be a surprise for him, but upon seeing his reaction, maybe this was even better.

“Here we go,” the agent interrupted your thoughts, holding up a bottle of body oil. Oops. You’d meant to pack that in the suitcase you’d checked in, not this one. “A reminder ma’am that liquids in carry-on baggage must be less than 100mL. We’ll be tossing this.”

You apologized, slightly embarrassed, before the two of you grabbed your things and made your way to the gate. The baggage mishap meant there was only about 30min left until your flight. As the two of you sat in the lounge waiting to board, you leaned in close to David.

“I’m sorry about the body oil, honey,” you purred into his ear. One of your hands played with his hair, which you knew drove him crazy. “I know how much you love to use it when we’re together.” Seeing the outline of his growing bulge, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

“I won’t hold it against you, dolcezza,” David smirked, his hand lightly rubbing your thigh. “But you can make it up to me once we arrive. Maybe by putting on one of your pretty new purchases.”

You squeezed your legs together at his words. This game you two were playing was dangerous but oh so tempting, and it was unlikely either one of you would back down. But before you could stoke the fire further, the gate attendant announced your flight was boarding.

•••

You weren’t usually the biggest fan of flying, but the two glasses of wine you’d had since getting in the air were doing a great job of taking the edge off. David had, of course, gotten the two of you seats in business class, which wasn’t too crowded. It also helped that it was a late night flight, so most of the passengers were either asleep or trying to be.

Not you and David, though. Both of you were known night owls - a fact that you’d bonded over when you first met. So while the rest of the plane was half-asleep, the two of you were tipsy on wine and giggling like teenagers in your corner of the plane.

“I can’t stop imagining you in that skimpy little set of yours.” David’s breath was hot against your ear, making you so aroused it was almost painful. “And with your teasing earlier…I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard.”

“Oh really?” You hummed playfully. The dim lighting of the airplane cabin and the blankets you were provided made it easy to check for yourself. David inhaled sharply when you palmed his hardened cock over his pants. “I want this inside me,” you whispered in his ear as you teased his cock.

David suddenly grabbed your wrist, looking at you with lust-filled eyes. “Get in the bathroom,” he whispered. You nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement pass through you, all sense and reason out the window.

You quietly made your way to the bathroom. As soon as you slid the door closed, your hand was in your pants, soothing your throbbing clit. You stifled a moan, surprised by how wet you were.

The door opened, startling you into withdrawing your hand. You relaxed when David came in, grinning. He locked the door behind him before pressing up against you. “Couldn’t wait for me, hm?” He smirked before his mouth met yours in a heated kiss. His lips were demanding and his tongue slipped into your mouth, eager.

David replaced your hand with his and rubbed his fingers along your slit before dipping them into your opening, feeling the juices collected there. “I think you’re ready for me,” David whispered. Gripped your hips and turned you around to face the bathroom mirror. You heard him unzip his pants as you quickly pulled your own down, desperate to have him inside you.

David’s eyes held contact with yours in the mirror as he aligned himself with your entrance. He slowly pushed himself into you, making you moan breathily. His cock slid in easily and filled you up completely.

“Shh, gattina,” he whispered in your ear as his hand came up to cover your mouth and silence your moans. “You and this tight pussy of yours are gonna get us in trouble.”

Wasting no time, David began fucking you relentlessly. His eyes never left yours in the mirror as he licked and sucked the skin at your neck. The hand that wasn’t covering your mouth slid around to play with your clit, making your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Such a dirty girl, Y/N,” he hissed in your ear. “Getting fucked in the airplane bathroom. What would everyone think, hm?”

David moved his hand from your mouth and slowed his pace so you could switch positions, half of your ass now propped up on the sink as he positioned himself between your legs. He slide his cock through your folds, nudging your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please,” you whispered softly, desperate for him.

His lips met yours again and he slid himself back into you, groaning into your mouth softly. You were heady with pleasure as David’s thumb circled your clit. Heat was spreading under your skin now and you felt your muscles tighten right before waves of pleasure rocked through you intensely.

You held David close against you, panting against his mouth, as you came down from your high. The squeezing of your walls was enough to bring him over the edge, and he gasped quietly as his cock pulsed, releasing his cum.

“We should probably get back,” you said, pressing a kiss against his lips. The two of you quickly cleaned up before returning to your seats. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed that you’d just joined the mile high club in the bathroom.

David pressed a kiss into your hair as you curled up in the blanket, ready to get some sleep. “I love you, tesoro. Sleep well.”

[wonderland-productions-blog]

Drinking Games: An Orc Erotica Pt. 3

NSFW Warning; Sexual Themes & Content

Word Count: ~ 6,000 (~10-15 min read)

Fem Human X Male Orc

Size Difference | Slight Praise Kink & Dom/Sub | Shower Stuff

AO3 Link Here:

Alone, again. Bur-uke was back to work after gracing me with this quick time together during his break. It’d been hours and I’d done enough to entertain myself. All the chores my room required and all the hobbies and projects that fit in my luggage had distracted me as long they could. Still I could hardly get my mind off of him. Every spare second was filled wishing he was filling me. I sigh, hoping a drink for the early evening could clear my mind. 

I sip away at my drink, in the lively tavern reading a book I’d brought from my room. A booth tucked toward the end of the room have a couple uproars, though nothing that elicited more than a glance across my shoulder every now and then. A few tables and booths had filled since I sat down, with passerby coming and going filling the bar stools at any given moment. 

I hear the booth mention a girl, with one gesturing toward the front of the room. I look around, finding there to be no other women about, even the servers must have been busy elsewhere. I shrug it off, until I hear it again followed by snickering. 

I get up and they fall silent, only solidifying that it was me they’d been discussing. “Can I help you boys?” I sneer, looming over their booth. I slam a hand onto the tabletop, their beer bottles and tankards clinking as everything shifts.

“Figures he’d like ‘em feisty,” A drunken man mutters with a giggle, sinking into the booth. 

“Excuse me?” I raise my voice.

“Ah, ignore him. Absolutely sloshed. We just noticed you chattin’ with one of our lads is all,”  One man says waving a hand, trying to diffuse the situation. 

“Good to see him back in the saddle after so long,” Another chimes in.

“Settle a bet and tell us if he paid you, would ya?” the drunken man snickers.

“Like he needs to pay me,” I smirk. 

One of the fellows elbows another, each of them chuckling amongst themselves. My face reddens, realizing what I’d said. 

“He’ll be ready for you soon, showerin’ now,” the man sunken in the booth mutters, gradually becoming more incoherent.

So he’s in the shower, huh?

“Sorry about him,” one of the more sober men apologizes. “Hope to see ya around again,” he smiles and waves, attempting to silence his friend making a fool of himself. The drunken lad makes a remark about watching me go, though improperly recited and articulated worse. I roll my eyes, heading straight out the tavern doors after the embarrassing encounter. 

I set my book on the porch fence, running my hand down the wood post. My eyes lock with the ground, watching the wooden porch steps turn to loose, powdery earth. I trace a footpath woven in the sand for a few moments, happy to find shade soon in the heat. I look up to find what is providing the shadow I retreated in. I’d led myself to the bathouse. My breath hitches. I am a few feet from the men’s entrance. 

My heart pounds, and I look around. My hand trails down the door on instinct, shaking as soon as it makes contact with the handle. I slink my way into the bathhouse, shoving the hefty door open and carefully shutting it behind me. My fingers run down the door handle, twisting the lock to ensure my privacy. I do my best not to make a sound, though the water running should muffle any minor noise. My heart was racing; maybe this was a mistake. 

“I’ve made it this far,” I remind myself, deciding to push onward. I could see steam billowing out above only one stall that is tucked away in the very back corner. After fetching a folded towel from a stack, I begin stripping off my clothes. Forcing the fabric into a small balled-up clump, it makes its new home for the time being on a bench near the entryway. I fasten my towel around my body and carefully make my way over to the stall in use.

Stopping just before the closed shower curtain, I kneel down, attempting to steal a peek beneath. On the pale tile flooring, I caught a glimpse of two firmly planted evergreen feet. This was undoubtedly Bur-uke. I take a deep breath, attempting to steady my shaky nerves as my fingers grip the thin fabric between us.

Flinging it open, my eyes lock onto Bur-uke for a mere moment before my vision becomes blurred. A breath escapes my throat as pressure is put against it, as well as the length of my back. Bur-uke’s gaze meets mine, and I see his eyes soften. His grip on my throat loosens, though does not completely lift. 

I straighten my spine, feeling my towel come loose with the motion. I reach for it, knowing I won’t be able to grab it in time. It hits the floor, instantly growing darker as it saturates. A sigh escapes me. I kick it over against the wall with a wet thud. My fingers find their way to the curtain once more, drawing it shut.

I make sure not to break eye contact with Bur-uke as I do this; watching his eyes widen makes my heart pound faster. He takes me in for a moment, looking me up and down with his mouth slightly agape. I make the first move, cupping his face in my hands and pulling him closer. He hesitates a moment, trying to hide his shaky breath. He plants his hands on my waist before pressing his lips against mine. 

He stumbles back a couple of steps, putting us beneath the running shower. Hot droplets of water glide down our bodies, and all the while Bur-uke hadn’t stopped kissing me. He pulls back for a breath before planting one more kiss on my lips. He begins a quick trail of kisses down my cheek, eventually burying his face at the nape of my neck. His canines once again graze my skin, provoking a strange flurry of excitement and fear. 

A hushed moan is pushed from my lips as he kisses my neck, only giving him more reason to persist. I run my fingers through his hair, settling halfway through with my other hand braced on his shoulder. His hands slide down my waist, and I feel his fingers kneading my hips for a moment. A gruff breath escapes him, and his hands travel down, cupping the back of my thighs. In one swift motion, he’d pressed me up against the wall. My legs had already found their way around his hips, and my grip on his shoulders tightened. 

His gaze was intense, and his cheeks had shifted to a darker, more vibrant green. “I missed you,” he finally says, breaking the silence between us. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” I breathe. His grip weakens for a second, and I slide down his torso. After steadying myself, something stiff finds its way between my thighs. Bur-uke readjusts me, pulling me up closer and smearing a kiss on my forehead. 

“Think you’ll be okay?” He asks, planting his hands across my haunches. He rubs against me, and I am only able to respond with a quick nod as I catch my breath. I feel his hard tip prodding and sliding up and down my slit. He lets out a breathy groan, feeling the first few inches of his member becoming slick. My fingers curl, bracing onto his shoulders as I feel him spread me. 

My gasps and groans cloud the air with the steam rolling from the hot shower. Slowly I sink onto his cock, feeling him fill me inch by inch. I do my best to force down a couple of winces, knowing I just needed time. Bur-uke presses his hips against mine, and pushes deeper into me. My knees lock up around him, and a moan escapes through my clenched teeth. 

Again, another thrust. This time a bit faster, and I feel him practically forcing against my cervix as gravity pulls me onto the base of his shaft. Another, and another. Each time my body bouncing and gliding on his. He keeps his pace, lifting me with every thrust as if I weigh nothing. 

Bur-uke lets out a breathy groan between thrusts, leaving just enough time to make me shiver before shoving his way back into me. His brows furrow, and he shudders. His hand covers most of my forearm and he gives me a small tug, forcing me to grind down further onto him.

Pain and pleasure swirls in the bottom of my stomach and I know in either way I’m pushing my limits. I pull myself up a bit, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I can only plant a few kisses on his neck before Bur-uke goes even faster. I feel tension ramping up inside of me. Each quick thrust both pushing his member deeper in me and forcing moans out of me. My shakey arms wrap around his slippery body, and I know I can’t take much more. 

“What do you want?” He asks in a silky voice. His pace slows, teasing me. 

I bite at my lip and let out a begging whine. My cheek falls to his shoulder, and I let out a huff with every leisurely thrust. His steady, rhythmic pace leaves me wondering whether it is the shower water or drool pooling on his shoulder.

“You’re going to have to tell me what you want,” he says, lifting me off of him. 

I can hardly think while watching him pull me off, his cock bouncing back up as soon as I am off. I try to speak, though nothing but a breathy moan rolls from my lips. He grabs my wrists, holding them both in one hand, his thumb and middle finger touching to secure his grip. My wrists are pinned behind my back and he turns me around.

“Tell me or I’m going to have to guess,” He teases, pressing me against the shower wall. Bur-uke plants a hand on one of my hips, gently kneading my skin as he lets out a breath. 

“Come on, beautiful…” he takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger with his spare hand. He drifts his hand down my neck and braces it around my collarbone. He frees my hands, which find their way pressed flat against the tile. I stick my ass out more, partially to get closer to him, but also because I felt my knees grow weak for a moment. I fail to realize that with my feet now on the floor I’m exactly at ideal height. Something glides along my spine and tailbone, forcing a gulp down my throat.

He trails a finger up and down my slit, only teasing me for a moment before pressing his way in. A winey moan escapes me, though I still can’t muster a response.

“Still can’t think of anything?” He asks, starting a rhythm with his finger.. “Or don’t want to tell me?” 

My breath hitches, and my ragged breathing reveals how close I am. He moves onto two fingers, penetrating that much deeper. He picks up speed, and something builds in me.  “I don’t want you to stop until you’ve filled me,” I gasp.

“D-don’t say that,” he stutters, shocked at my response. His grip around my collar weakens, and he slides his fingers out.

“Why not? Don’t think I can take it?” I tease. My eyes widen as I feel something different pressing against my slit. 

“Are you sure?” He whispers in my ear. 

“Oh, yes,” I breathe. Bur-uke presses his body against mine, leaning over me and running his hands over my hips. One hand trails up my side and over my breast, while the other finds its way between my thighs. He slowly guides his way in, spreading me apart with his fingertips. I brace myself against the wall, eager to feel him drive his way into me. Despite how slick I was, Bur-uke still has to inch his way inside me. 

He slowly coaxes me further onto him. “I can’t keep my eyes off you… every inch of you looks so amazing” I hear him utter under his breath.  

“Every inch of you feels amazing…” I barely manage between breaths.  He holds my hips and teases his way in and out of me. Every move pushing him that much deeper, covering his member with my arousal. I feel his fingers knead deeper into my hips, and his breath was ramping. He is still for a moment, and I wonder if he is going to say something. “So tight…” he whispers and swallows. I look back, and see him mouth something. I barely make out “I can’t stop,” before feeling my cheek pushed against the cold tile a moment later. 

Pressure thrusts its way through my stomach, and the air is forced from my lungs. A small squeak conveys the slight sting deep inside me.

“S-sorry, I thought your arms were braced against the wall,” he admits, pulling halfway out. My fists had already balled up and found their place on the tile in front of me once more.

“I’m alright,” I chuckle, glancing back. I wonder how much more he would’ve done if I hadn’t hit the wall.  I find myself arching my back, and pulling myself onto him again. Those ivy-green hands find their way snugly around my waist, with his fingers nearly touching. A wave of shame and exhilaration rushes over me as I realize just how big an orc can be. I grind against him, pulling myself back until I feel his thighs against mine. 

I take a breath, feeling his full length deep inside me. He presses a tiny bit further, and I twitch around him. One of my legs flutters up for a moment and a gasp escapes me. My face is hot, and I find myself waiting for his next move. He starts a slow pace, a mix of his own thrusts and his strong hands pulling me onto his cock. 

By this point I am sure I’ve never had more fluid on my body. Between the shower, my sweat, the few tears that had rolled down my cheeks at some point, and the drool running down my chin and throat. Despite this, I still want more. I want him to use me however he wants for how long he wants, and I want him to cum on me everywhere he wants. 

He’d sped up his pace, keeping full, fast strokes while refusing to sacrifice any of his length. His breathing has become heavier, and his grunts now resembled a growl more than anything else. He was getting close, I can feel it.

A ragged breath escapes me, and I can hardly keep my eyes open. All I can focus on is his presence inside me, overflowing me with waves of pleasure and pain every thrust. Just as I’m sure I can feel him in the pit of my stomach he shifts to shorter, even faster strokes. 

His stamina seems endless, but all I could ask for right now is for him to finish before I can hardly move after this. The stimulation is far too much for me at this point, sending shocks rippling through my body with every movement. I can do nothing but take it, I could hardly keep my head from hitting the wall and my feet on the tile. Every ragged breath feels as if I were on the brink of death, but I never want it to stop.

A hand shifts from my waist to my shoulder, with a firm grip confirming what I anticipated next. He shoves his full length into me, his warm, steady body looming right over mine. He lingers deep inside me, pumping me as full as he can. He sinks his chin into the nape of my neck, planting a small kiss after catching his breath. 

He slowly eases out, quickly finding how horrible my balance has become. He catches me before I fully slip. He glances down at my legs, and I noticed his eyes widen. Bur-uke retrieves a cloth and wipes away what had been running down my leg. 

“I can clean myself, I just need a minute,” I chuckle.

“It's… it's my fault. It's the least I can do really,” he insists. He looks up at me, pausing for a moment. His eyes catch mine and I can't pull away. He slides his hands up my legs, wrapping them around the back of my thighs. I lift a wet lock of hair from his face and tuck it behind his ear. My hand trails down his jaw, and he rests his head on my chest. He lets out a small huff with a smile, and stretches for our lips to meet. 

“Let me wash you off,” he insists. I put my arms over his shoulders, lingering a moment to feel the water cascade over us. 

“You don’t need to do that…” I tell him.

“I want to. What if I let you wash me in return?” He reasons. 

I can’t help but let my eyes trail down his body. Anything to touch him again. To feel his skin against mine. I shudder. 

His touch is gentle, starting at my shoulders he massages and lathers me. Gradually working his way down, he rubs away every sore muscle and washes out any worry I may have. He reaches my legs once more, leaving a trail of suds down my hips and thighs. He suddenly averts his eyes, and grabs my hand. His grip twitches in both hands, squeezing my palm with one and spewing a jet of bubbles from the cloth in the other. He clears his throat. 

“You’re bleeding… tell me if I’m hurting you next time,” he sternly tells me. His brows furrow, and his mouth turns to a frown. 

“How can I make it up to you?” He utters. 

My heart skips a beat. I can’t answer. 

Bur-uke’s grip shifts back to my legs, only derailing to hold my haunches, seemingly on instinct. He clears his throat, focusing on the bubbles gliding down my body once more.

“You don’t need to make it up to me, everything else made up for the tiny bit of pain by comparison,” I reason, shaking my mind from all the ways he could make it up to me. 

“I insist. Maybe not now, but soon. Let's focus on getting you dried off,” 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I ask, wiping a few soap suds down his chest. 

He chuckles and holds his hand over mine. He passes me the cloth, and I take great pleasure in cleaning him. Bur-uke’s burly shoulders are firm and rugged. Sunburnt skin rubbing off with ease. His face has been covered with dirt and sweat most of the sweltering day, I can’t imagine how relaxing this must feel after construction work. 

As I start to scrub his shoulder blades he lets out a relieved sigh. Over and over, I rub his back, with Bur-uke letting out small gruff moans and breaths. “I haven’t felt this clean in a long time… Ironic all things considered,” 

“You should bring me into the shower more often,” I laugh.

“Don’t test me. But we should get you out of the men’s section now, huh? Gods forbid anyone tried to shower recently,” he chuckles.

He throws a towel over my shoulders, patting me dry before putting a towel on himself. 

I tuck myself into another stall to finish drying and change into my clothes. I pull aside the thin white shower curtain to see Bur-uke waiting for me… Still in a towel. 

“Are-aren’t you going to get dressed?” I ask.

“Why would I? You go ahead, I’ll be right behind you. It’ll make it seem like we aren’t together. I’ll just be going back to my room anyway,” he shrugs. 

“People will stare,” I smile and roll my eyes. 

“Oh, and I suppose you don’t want people looking?” He raises a brow. 

My face flushes.

“If you want me all to yourself that’s all you have to say,” He smirks. 

“You know that’s not what I meant!” I sheepishly exclaim. 

“Mhm,” Bur-uke chuckles, tipping my chin up to make my eyes meet his.

I’ve never felt so small next to a man, so fragile, helpless, yet so safe. He makes my stomach flutter and my knees weak. This wasn’t intimidation, it was temptation. 

“I’ll see you sometime after we’re both changed.” He says, sounding more like an order than a request. “I understand if you’re tired, but it would be nice to have dinner with you,” he tells me, sending me off with a kiss.

[clothyume]

A Premature Burial Episode 4

A Premature Burial 

Episode 4 

Season: Winter 

Characters: Kuro, Nazuna, Mika, Shu

Shu: However, if you use your brain, you should be able to speculate for yourself. 

This is simply a villa, and the Itsuki family's main residence is in Kansai. That’s why I go back to the “countryside” often during new year’s and such. 

Because of the trouble I had in the surrounding area, I met you. 

Mika: Nnah, I always wondered what Oshisan was doin’ in my hometown… Huh, but when ya ran away from home with Ryu-kun-san ya didn’t say anythin’? 

Shu: I suppose it was around that destination. At the time, my world was extremely narrow, I knew practically nothing of the region. 

Well, after all, I coludn’t get anywhere with my child’s feet, and my little childhood adventure came to an end with no accomplishments—

Mika: That’s where I got t’ meet ya~? Besides, Oshisan can go wherever now, right? 

Shu: I wonder. Even if I’m able to discuss art in a foreign language with westerners in Paris, my flesh and blood are still held captive by this suffocating building. 

That’s the feeling I have. Humans can simply never be free from their bonds. 

Things will always come along to firmly restrict us. Like a marionette with tangled strings. 

Mika: Oshisan…

Shu: Ah, what a strange thing to say. I don’t think we should be standing around talking by the eaves, shall we go in? 

While we’re at it, answer me this first, the reason I brought you here is because I don’t want to meet with my family alone. Do I need any other reason? 

Mika: But, yer family ain’t that scary. 

Shu: They aren’t particularly scary, but we don’t have a good relationship. The hierarchy that has been instinctively ingrained into me since childhood is certainly not something that can be ignored. 

On that point, if you’re here my family more or less have to keep up their appearance, thus they will go easy on us and I’ll be spared. They too have somewhat taken a liking to you. 

Mika: Even though the first time I came here I completely ignored ‘em… I guess I was just real confused and surprised that Oshisan took me in so suddenly. 

But I feel like it took some time fer me to open up. If we were gonna live together under one roof, I should express my feelin’s normally. 

Aha. first the orphanage, then Oshisan’s house, now Starmony Hall… If I really think about it, I’ve always lived with other people. 

Shu: If you’re not happy with that then find a family that you truly wish to live with from now on. 

You have hands and feet for that. You have a free soul that is bound by no one. Neither god nor person can stop you from doing that. 

Nazuna: Hell~o, Kagehira? 

Hmm. You’ve arrived at Itsuki’s house and dropped off your luggage so you’re taking a little break? 

So you thought it’d get busy in the morning, and had an early lunch so you could call at noon. 

Since Itsuki hurriedly booked a flight and arrived home late, you waited to join him…

Yeah. He didn’t plan on coming home as normal, so he arrived a little later than you. 

Hm? It’s lunchtime for me, so I’m just eating lunch as normal? 

Yeah… Kuro-chin thinks he can persuade me, he’s using the excuse that he “made too much” to serve me his home cooking… 

Kuro: I’m not giving up, Nito. 

Nazuna: Hm~… I’ll introduce you to Tomo-chin, I don’t think he’ll resist since he’s always made to wear girls' clothes. 

Kuro: I think Nito is a better fit. 

Nazuna: I’d rather hear you say that in a completely different situation too… Well, if I’m substituting for your little sister I guess it’s a little different to crossing. 

No, whether I like it or not, isn’t it just regular old crossdressing? I don’t get anything out of it? 

Kuro: It’s okay. Have some self confidence, Nito, you’re definitely cuter than any other girls. 

Nazuna: I’m not happy… You’re so stubborn. That’s exactly what I’d expect from Itsuki���s childhood friend— You’re really similar. 

Whatever. Anyway, Kagehira, not to be overbearing, but if anything happens get in touch right away. 

Ra*bits have gotten into a strange situation where we’re slowly getting less work, so I have free time. Yeah, I’m not trying to interfere just for fun. 

I know I’m not powerless… Maybe I just want to prove that I am able to help someone. 

Kuro: You don’t need to prove it. At least right now, you’re helping me. 

Nazuna: Oh~ Geez~ What a pain~ You were never the type to whine like this, Kuro-chin? Are you feeling alright? 

Kuro: I’ve got a lot of stuff going on. I want to grow out of the dependable, understanding big brother type that doesn’t cause trouble for anyone. 

No. I’m in the middle of searching for who I am and what I want to do. 

Nazuna: Is that trying to ask your closest male friend to wear elementary school girl’s clothes…? If that’s your true nature you should hide it and not show it to anyone, it’s weird. 

Kuro: That’s so mean, I asked you because you’re my closest friend. 

Nazuna: Hmph. Oh well, it’s rude to be on my phone while I’m eating, so I’ll hang up. I don’t really understand— but do what you can. 

It must be tough looking after Itsuki. But that’s what you want to do… Kagehira♪

[arixtan]

Chapter 1: Pilot

Tws: Near death, arson.

The church burned, as the wedding attendees fled out of the venue in hopes of escaping the crimson flames. The groom was still inside, knocked out by a burning support beam that fell on his back. The firemen heaved the beam off, got him wrapped in a fire blanket then rushed him into an ambulance. Though he was breathing, the beam burned right through his clothes. Searing the skin till it boiled with bubbles forming on the skin with it being exposed to the cold air. Firemen never saw flames so vicious, as if it was a beast unable to be tamed with the water. It persisted for hours, it's golden sparks flicked around in the air, the smoke filling their lungs until they could breath no more.

The air on the other side of town was cold, frigid even. The fire was strangely comforting to the young bride who watched the crime scene from afar, their desperate screams filling her ears like a twisted melody. All praying their loved ones survived the event. As the attendees frantically ran about to find their friends and family members, Angel, the bride, was far, far away from the wedding venue. Walking towards the edge of the small part of town that they lived in for far too long. This place, its churches, its people, its whole being should've been reduced to ashes. Until there was nothing left but their ashes, no lives spared, they deserved it.

From behind a tree, she uncovered a suitcase, and turned around, mumbling to herself.

"...Forgive me, father, for I have sinned."

Angel sat on a bench waiting for her ride to hurry up and collect her. Police cars zoomed by, coming from where the church was. The final car drove past, and the lady in the back seat made eye contact with Angel. She smiled, and Angel smiled back. Even if you're in a foul mood, you must return the smile. It’s the polite thing to do. Even if the person in the police car was someone you loved, someone willing to burn the world with you.

It had to be done.

There wasn't any option left for them.

Angel blew into her hands to keep them warm. She shouldn't have left her gloves behind in the church. But then there wouldn't be a way to fabricate the evidence so the cops take Verena and not her. After what felt like hours the black minivan finally pulled up, and the door slid open. Angel hauled herself, and then her suitcase into the van. Buckled herself in, then awaited the painfully long drive. By the time the minivan rolled up to the boutique's front doors, Angel was dead asleep in the back seat. As much as Navrose hated it, and what he's even got himself into. He didn't have a choice, Verena's in jail, leaving the kid to him. And made him promise to always watch over her. ‘Verena, I swear, when you're out I'll sew your skin to your clothes.’ Navrose slammed his head into the steering wheel praying this was all some dream. They didn't just help a runaway, they didn't just help their best friend go to jail for something they didn't do. After forcing his forehead to go red, he turned his head all just to find Angel. Still asleep in her burnt wedding dress, snoring her ass off. “OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE” As he scrambled out of the car. Navrose, who was rightfully exhausted, proceeded to kick the car with his heels so hard the alarm went off, scaring off the nearby cats and Angel. His pink hair was already fizzy because of the air, getting in his face and such. Their shoulders slumped in defeat. Afterall, it's all for his best friend. ‘Navrose?’ Her voice could barely be heard through the constant beeping. Navrose was leaning against the roof of the car, sighing and trying his best to turn off that damn alarm. Meanwhile, Angel was lazily hauling her luggage out from the trunk, the bags slamming onto the pavement below. Her mind was begging for her to go back to sleep, even the sound of the car alarm was like a lullaby.

[loveaffairxc]

A simple thank you escaped his lips as she mentioned the spare room, a stark reminder of how empty it had been when they first bought the house. He never imagined he'd be the first to use it—the irony wasn’t lost on him. He could almost find the humor in it if he thought about it long enough.

As he stepped outside to retrieve his luggage, the world greeted him with a sharp contrast—the trunk of the car creaked open, revealing the worn bags that held the remnants of his life. He looked up, and there it was, that white circle of sunlight, almost blinding against the sky, yet it did nothing to diminish the coolness of the breeze that whispered against his skin. For a moment, he felt a fleeting sense of peace, an unfamiliar contentment in the midst of all the change. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay for now.

The stairway stretched upward in a gentle curve, narrow and intimate, as if guiding him through a quiet, forgotten part of the world. Above, a pendant light hung delicately from the ceiling. Each step he took released a soft groan from the old mahogany beneath his feet, a sound both comforting and nostalgic. The wood, though polished to a subtle sheen, bore the marks of countless footsteps—worn patches where time had left its imprint. These imperfections, far from detracting from the house’s beauty, only deepened its character, like wrinkles on an old face that has seen too much and forgotten nothing.

At the top, the landing split into two doors—one leading to the spare room, another to her bedroom, or what had once been their shared sanctuary. The door to her bedroom was slightly ajar, a crack wide enough to reveal the soft shadows within. He felt a deep, almost primal urge to push it open, to step inside and reclaim the space that once was theirs. Yet, he knew how wrong that was. He lingered there, his gaze heavy with unspoken longing, before finally turning away and heading to the spare room.

The spare room was smaller, simpler, a place that had always seemed to wait for someone who never arrived. He left one piece of luggage on the floor, its worn leather sagging slightly from the years it had traveled with him. The other he placed onto the bed with a controlled firmness. The quilt was immaculately kept, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. Everything in the room was pristine, almost too pristine, as if she had tried to erase the passage of time, to make it welcoming. With a swift, practiced motion, he unlatched the suitcase, revealing a haphazard mix of clothes. Buried beneath the layers of fabric were his guns, polished and well-maintained. These weren’t just weapons; in a way they were like reminders. Each gun had a story, a history forged in the heat of battle and the cold calculations of survival. The oldest among them had been with him since the war, a standard-issue revolver that had seen him through the blood and mud of countless battles. Its grip was worn, the metal tarnished from years of use, but it still held a certain reliability. Another had come into his possession long after the war, during the early days of trying to adapt to civilian life. He’d taken up hunting, in the quiet woodlands. The rifle, with its polished wood stock and sleek barrel, was a gift from a fellow veteran who believed in the therapeutic value of stalking deer through the underbrush. He had accepted it with a nod. The last was a newer acquisition, picked up from a small, unremarkable shop in a village far from where he now stood. The man who sold it to him had the look of someone who had lost everything, his eyes dull and voice flat as he described the gun’s make and model. Frank hadn’t asked any questions; he’d simply handed over the money and walked out with the weapon, sensing that it might serve a purpose one day.

He stared at them for a moment, a flicker of disbelief crossing his mind. Before the war, guns had been nothing more than abstract objects, something distant and almost irrelevant in his world. He had never owned one, never felt the need to. The idea of handling a firearm, let alone keeping a collection of them, would have seemed absurd to the man he once was. But now, here he was, discarding his clothes carelessly and gravitating toward the guns as soon as he got home, as if they were the only things that could anchor him to the present. It was a strange, almost surreal shift. He had brought them here, to this house, not out of paranoia but out of a need for control, for protection. In his mind, the most important rooms of the house—hers, theirs—deserved to be guarded, as if the presence of these silent sentinels could somehow preserve what little was left of a world he once knew.

He unwrapped one of the guns, feeling the familiar weight of it in his hand, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of the room. For a moment, he considered where to place it, where it would be most effective, most protective. He left one on the bed, then made his way toward her room. He hesitated at the door, his hand hovering over the handle as a wave of uncertainty washed over him. From downstairs, he could hear the faint clinking of dishes in the kitchen, a subtle reminder of her presence as he wrestled with the unease that had taken hold of him. He took a few hesitant steps inside. The bedroom was just as he remembered—familiar, yet somehow distant. His intent was simple: to place the gun in the drawer of her bedside table. But as he approached it, his eyes lingered on the items arranged on the surface. He couldn’t help himself, curiosity tugging at him to look a little closer, to see what had changed, what had stayed the same. He remembered the cream-white telephone with gold intricate details that used to sit on her bedside table, always within reach, and the silver-framed photo of their wedding day. Now, both were gone, replaced by a simple vase of flowers, their petals starting to wilt. This felt logical, even normal. The first time he reentered the house, he noticed that all traces of their life together had vanished from the walls, every photograph carefully removed. Still, a pang hit his chest each time he crossed the threshold, it was now inevitable it would resurface every once in a while whenever he found himself in these familiar rooms. With a heavy breath, he opened the drawer of her bedside table. Inside, he found a small collection of items: neatly folded handkerchiefs, a leather-bound journal, a compact mirror with its surface slightly tarnished, and a few letters. He carefully placed one of the guns inside, its cold metal juxtaposed against the warmth of the drawer’s contents. As he adjusted the items, his fingers brushed against something familiar. He came across a photograph of himself, tucked beneath the others as if hidden away for safekeeping. He frowned slightly, lifting it to the light, inspecting it as though he were seeing it for the first time. The face staring back at him was almost unrecognizable—there was a youthfulness in the eyes, a vitality that felt distant now. It struck him how a few years could reshape a man, could carve away at the person he once was. He wondered how long it had been since she’d kept this—if she’d forgotten about it, leaving it there to gather dust in the quiet corners of her life. The cynical part of him believed that. But another part, quieter and more hopeful, knew she still cared for him. To what extent, he wasn’t sure.

With another deep breath, he let the photograph go, placing it gently back where he found it. His gaze wandered around the room, eventually settling on the closet. He hesitated for a moment, torn between giving in to his curiosity or respecting the boundaries of the space. Before he could settle on a choice, his body moved almost of its own volition, guided by an unspoken need. It was too late now anyway, he knew his curiosity somehow always got the better of him. The closet door creaked open, and he found himself drawn to its depths. He glanced upwards at the top shelf, his eyes skimming over some boxes and forgotten trinkets, before shifting his attention to the cascade of dresses hanging below. His eyes were drawn to a blue dress that had been a favorite of hers, worn often during the last summer they had shared together. He pushed the clothes aside, parting them in the middle to reveal what lay beneath the hanging garments. The array of dresses, some long and flowing, had concealed the bottom part of the closet. As he moved the clothing aside, the hidden space slowly came into view. There was nothing of particular interest beneath the dresses—just the usual assortment of items stored out of sight.

But the sight of the blue dress now stirred a profound ache in his chest. He reached out and took it into his hands. As the fabric brushed against him, he was enveloped by the faint scent of her perfume—subtle yet intoxicating. It was as though the very essence of her lingered within the threads of the dress. Holding it close, he inhaled deeply, the sweet yet faintly fresh scent enveloping him in a strangely satisfying, albeit disconcerting embrace. What was he doing, acting as if he were mourning someone with whom he had just shared breakfast with?; What would she think if she saw him? the sensation felt almost surreal. This might be the closest he could come to her again, he thought to himself, and grappled with the possibility that he might never fully accept this reality.

Esther's fingers brushed the table as she rose, gathering the crumbs left behind.

“Well, there’s plenty more where they came from.” She replied, the small smile that played at the corners of her lips fading ever so slightly. She’d been watching him, noting how he resisted even the slightest bite to eat, as if every morsel was a burden to him. She’d always admired his resilience, the way he’d always find strength no matter what life had thrown his way, but in that moment she realised just how much the war had scarred him.

"There's no rush, you know." She said softly, her voice carrying a warmth she hoped would ease his discomfort. She glanced toward the hallway, her thoughts shifting to the spare room she’d prepared for him upstairs. It’d been a while since anyone had stayed there. She’d tidied it thoroughly, wanting him to feel as comfortable as possible. But deep down there was a hesitation in her heart, a fear that he might feel like an intruder in a place that was once so familiar to him. "But I'll leave you to get settled in the spare room." She began, her voice faltering slightly as she watched her words. "It's all ready for you, and if there’s anything else you need just let me know."

She turned back to face him, her eyes searching his for any sign of how he was feeling. She knew this must have been just as difficult for him as it was for her, if not more so. The house, with all its memories, was a reminder of a life they once shared, a life that now seemed so distant.

[mightbekelly]

So, A Funny Thing Happened Last Night... - A Yoonji/Jin AU

Title: So, A Funny Thing Happened Last Night...

Ship: Yoonji/Jin

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7k

Min Yoonji's apartment smells like a sewer and nothing is going right as she goes to spend a few days at her best friend's place, Kim Namjoon. The biggest problem? Namjoon's older brother (and Yoonji's long-time crush) Kim Seokjin is also there and she doesn't know if she can survive a weekend of being ignored by the handsome, but completely not her style man. Which will happen? Will Yoonji survive a weekend of first love pining? Or will she have to find another place to stay? Written for Yoonji Fest 2023.

SNIPPET

It is not Yoonji’s night when she shows up at Namjoon’s door, drenched from the sudden downpour, looking like a drowned rat on a Thursday evening. She’s cold, annoyed, and on the verge of tears - which is not her at all.

Thankfully, her best friend is expecting her and Namjoon opens the door pretty quickly after she rings the bell. He looks down at her with wide eyes. “What happened, noona?” he gasps.

“What didn’t?” she grumbles. She uses both hands to grab the largest piece of luggage she has and tries to manhandle it into the apartment.

“Let me take that,” Namjoon immediately offers, reaching out to pry her frozen fingers off of the strap. “Why aren’t you using the wheels?”

Yoongi growls. “Because one of them busted not even two blocks from my place,” she complains. “Then, just as I left the subway to walk here it started pouring rain! All of that on top of my place smelling like a sewage plant because the sewer pipes burst, which is why I can’t even stay in the building.”

“That’s rough,” Namjoon laments, easily picking up the piece of luggage with his stupid height and dumb muscles. “But you can stay here as long as you need, it’s not a problem.”

“I appreciate it, Joonie,” she sighs, stopping inside the doorway to unzip her big stompy leather boots. The only saving grace is that at least they kept her socks dry as she shuffles into the pair of house slippers she usually uses when she visits. “I don’t want to impose. It’s just kind of late already and I didn’t have time to find a hotel.”

“Nonsense,” Namjoon calls over his shoulder as he sets her luggage down by the couch in the living room. “Let me clean up and you can use my room-”

Before he can even finish, Yoongi is smacking his shoulder. “I’m not taking your room,” she scolds him. “I can sleep on the couch, I’ll be fine. You’ll hang off the edges and not get any sleep.”

He looks down at her, maybe a little relieved that she’s insisting. “You do have an impressive ability to fall asleep anywhere,” he admits. “Tell you what. Let me get you a spare towel and you can take a shower. It wouldn’t do you any good to get sick as well.”

“Thanks, Joonie,” Yoonji says, tucking her wet hair behind her ears. “I’ll slip you some money while I’m staying to help cover my room and board.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “That’s not necessary,” he waves away her offer. “What are best friends for?”

“Fine, but at least let me make dinner or something.” Yoonji pushes her luggage onto its side so she can pull fresh clothes out of it.

“Noona’s going to cook?” Namjoon gives an exaggerated gasp. “I’d have asked you to come stay with us sooner if I’d known I’d get your cooking, too.”

Us .

Yoonji’s heart gives a small dip in her chest, but she focuses on shuffling through the jumble of clothes she had thrown into the suitcase. “Is Jin-oppa around?” she asks, trying to come off nonchalant. “Like, should I make enough for him too?” Seokjin, Namjoon’s older brother. Could Yoonji be even more of a walking cliché for falling for her best friend’s brother?

[jenniferswhor3]

a new york christmas - timothée chalamet

timothée chalamet x reader

misc. masterlist | masterlist

requests are open!!

summary; you finally spend your christmas break with timothée in new york city

warnings; a couple swear words, pet names (baby, beautiful), suggestive fluff (??? idk what to call it)

authors note; merry christmas and happy holidays everyone!! i love timmy so much also i wanna spend christmas in nyc so bad. covid doesn't exist in this btw!! jack is a fake name btw, just a name for a random friend of timmys

~

after a very stressful finals week, it was now christmas break. your boyfriend, timothée, suggested you spend it with him in new york. after much persuasion to your parents, they let you travel.

so you packed your warmest, and cutest, clothes and bought a plane ticket. you hadn't told timothée because you wanted it to be a surprise. you loved surprised, you can never go wrong with one.

you had been to his place before so it's not like the surprise was going to be hard. but the thing is, you were extra, so you decided to be extra with your surprise.

you planned this whole big surprise with his best friend, jack. throughout your plane ride, thanks to the free in-plane wi-fi, you and jack texted the whole plan. you were to hid in a big box decorated like a present and sit right next to timothée's christmas tree and wait for him to come home. jack had a spare key he was going to lend you once he picked you up from the airport.

jack's part of the plan was halfway done. his first task was to find a big box and wrap it up, which he was successful at. he kept the box at his apartment for obvious reason, but his next part of the plan was to distract timothée. he sent timothée to get coffee and to meet him for lunch. you two were going to quickly transport the giant box to his place while he was out and then the rest came to play. you hid your luggage in his room so he wouldn't notice anything while you were hiding.

it felt like forever until you finally got the text from jack saying him and timothée were headed home. he told you it was only about and 15 minutes drive from the place where they ate. so you sat patiently, scrolling through your phone, waiting to surprise your boyfriend who which you hadn't seen in over two month.

sooner or later, you heard the lock on the door click open and two pairs of heavy footsteps enter the room.

you heard timothée's voice be slightly muffled from the box, "what's this?"

"i don't know, man," jack tried to sound convincing. you could see what was going on outside but timthoée had given jack a sideways glance.

you hear their footsteps approach closer, one pair approaching closer. timthoée's voice now more clear. "to timmy with love?" he mumbled to himself. "no, dude, seriously, what is this?" jack didn't have an audible response so you could only assumed he shrugged his shoulders or mouthed a response.

timothée, with a slight confused facial expression, opens the bright green wrapped box flaps.this was the moment you were waiting for. you jump up and yell "surprise" very loudly.

"oh my god! how are you here? i thought you said you couldn't make it?" a million different thoughts were running through his head right now, but his main thought is how happy he is.

you, with a big grin spread across your face, decide to step out of the box before giving him a hug. "i thought i could come and surprise you!" you say giving him a much needed hug. "jack was in on it." you motioned to the boy awkwardly standing there once you pulled away from the hug.

timothée turns to him with a smirk, "you motherfucker!" you throws a fake punch at his biceps.

"sorry, man. sorry. but, she's very good at conniving someone." you shrugged knowing it was true. you all laughed at his statement

time had passed, mostly consisted of the three of you talking and laughing, and it was time for jack to say goodbye for the night. you said your goodbyes and gently shut the door, not to disturb the apartment complex neighbors.

you turned to face timothée, finally getting to stare songfully in his eyes. "i missed you." he pulled you in for a long hug, "i missed you too, baby." finally giving each other the first kiss of the night, you felt the same sparks you did when you shared your first kiss with him.

"its good to be home." you referred to timothée, he was your home. you pulled him towards you for another hug.

"oh, i missed you." timothée said pulling away from the hug once more. he peppered kisses all along your face while reacting "i missed you. i missed you." you just giggled the whole time

you gently push him away, "okay, i get it you miss me." your words interrupted by giggled.

"let me show you how much i missed you." you quirk an eyebrow at timothée's word but understanding them almost immediately. you let out a small yelp as he grabbed you from your thighs and picking you up. he scurried to his bedroom while you giggled the whole way. that night was spent in each others arms making up for lost time.

before the two of you fell asleep, timothée whispered to you, "this is going to be the best christmas break you ever experience."

~

the sun shone through timothée's white curtains waking the two of you up a small groan, not ready to face the day just yet. you, waking up a bit faster than timothée, attempt to walk to his bathroom but get pulled back by a hand softly gripping your wrist. "timmy," he groaned at this, knowing you two had to get ready for one of your many adventures you were taking while here. "we have to get ready." you persisted gently yanking your arm back to let him know that he should join.

with a groan, and his eyes still closed in attempt to shield his eyes from the harsh morning sun. "five more minutes." you sighed, ultimately giving in because who could resist your boyfriends cuddles.

a total of 32 minutes had passed before you two re-woke up from a light slumber. the sun being higher than before meaning less direct sunlight shining through timothée's window. timothée was a bit sluggish when doing his morning routine. while you were brushing you teeth his head was rested on your shoulder and while applying a bit of light makeup his arms were securely around your waist while he rested his head on top of your, watching you do your makeup with admiration.

you two had a light breakfast because you knew you'd be having. a big lunch. over the course of the next couple week timothée was going to take you to all of his favorite christmas themed places or events that are big in new york. you've always wanted to experience christmas in new york and now, with the help of your amazing boyfriend, you can.

today he was going to take you to one of his favorite local restaurants and ice skating, which you were incredibly excited for. you vividly remember taking multiple lessons as a child and you were curious to see how much of it stuck.

now for the restaurant, timothée says it has some of the best holiday themed items this time of year. they had a themed sandwich, a themed soup, and many different themed desserts. you were very excited to try them.

upon arrival, you were in awe at this place. it was everything you'd expect in a cute local restaurant. it had small lights hanging everywhere, brick interior, chalkboard menus, and happy customers inside. this was truly a dream place to eat. you would love to own a small restaurant like this one day. you both ordered the specialty sandwich accompanied with just a water to drink and you made your way to sit. "this place is just the cutest." you eyes were still wandering to every corner of the room. "i know, i love it. i feel like its my hidden gem." timothée says only looking you and your beauty while you look around.

lunch was perfect. everything about the sandwich and the side of house made fries hit the spot perfectly. you were completely stuffed and a bit thankful you were walking to the ice rink so you could walk off the full feeling.

the whole walk there you eyes were trained at all the christmas decorated stuff around you. you had seen new york before, but not like this. timothée, on the other hand, was looking at you, and the sidewalk in front of him, and how beautiful you looked being mind blown by the christmas sights.

when you two approached the ice rink, you could've sworn you look like a small child who just got a new toy. you were all giddy and almost jumping up and down. you two approached the shoe disked and timothée ever so kindly paid for your shoes.

when you stepped foot onto the ice you were a bit wobbly at first but you quickly regained all your balance, remembering some tips your old skating coach told you. for the next hour, life felt perfect. you and timothée hand in hand skating around an oval rink happy as can be. you and timothée exchanged cool tricks, yours being much cooler than his due to your childhood, but none the less you were really impressed by his abilities.

the rest of the night was amazing too. it was spent curled up on his couch, eating chinese takeout, while watching classic christmas movies.

while you two were curled up under his bedsheets, old reruns of friends was playing quietly in the back, coincidentally the christmas ones. "thank you for one of the best days I've had in a while." you reach up to peck his lips.

"just wait, baby. these next couple weeks are going to be filled with christmas fun." and with that, you two were off to sleep dreaming off what you could hope would be a white christmas.

~

over the next few days, timothée had miraculously planned the best christmas themed actives, which all ended in some sort of takeout or homemade meal made by you and christmas movies.

one day was making a gingerbread village with all different kinds of houses and custom made buildings, it surprisingly held up well considering it was cheap frosting.

the next day was homemade cookies which resulted in a big flour-y, cake-y mess all over timothée's kitchen. the cookies turned out amazing, though. the homemade frosting went well too. you two, poorly, frosted cute christmas designs onto the sugar cookies.

and another was spent deriving around small towns outside of the city admiring all the beautifully decorated houses.

it was now christmas eve and timothée had something amazing planned. the day would go. as normal, get lunch and just hang out as his place. as soon as it got dark he would walk you to the giant christmas tree and present you with his special gift. of course, it'd be if he gave it to you christmas day or christmas eve, but this way was more extravagant and timothée knew you loved extravagance. the gift was simple but he knew you'd absolutely love it.

you were currently walking hand and hand on your way to the big tree. you were completely clueless as to where he was taking you but you were excited none the less. “you really can’t tell me where we’re going?”

timothée shook his head with a slight chuckle, “no, you know this is a surprise.”

“i know,” you said with a fake sad tone.

you neared the corner where the giant christmas and your eyes lit up like the lights on the tree. “oh my god." you feet froze in its place. it was beautiful. you had seen pictures, but it was in better in person.

timothée always knew how much you loved the big tree. "thank you, oh my god. i love you, thank you." you leaped into his arms.

"cmon, lets go look around." so that's what you did. you walked right up the where you could and admired the beauty of the colored lights surrounding the giant tree.

the whole time you were admiring the tree, timothée was admiring you. he knew you were going to love the gift, no matter what it was, but yet his nerves are still off the chart. "y/n," he starts.

"yeah?" you turn to him, curiosity spread across your face.

timothée looks at his toes before he speaks. "i got you something. i thought it would be good to give you now." he pulls the box out from his jacket pocket.

its a small black box, you assumed it was for jewelry, wrapped loosely with a red ribbon, which makes it easy to unwrap. he places it in your hands so you can unwrap it yourself. his eyes trained on your face awaiting your reaction as you open. pulling gently on the red ribbon and opening the lid, you were met with the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. you face not showing too much emotion, only shock. you pick up the necklace to admire the charm.

"i–, its fine if–" he stuttered before you interrupted.

"timmy–, i love it. its so beautiful. can you put it on me?" relief fell off of the boys shoulders as he takes the necklace from your hands and placed it around your neck. you stood there waiting for it to be clasped around with neck with the heat rising in your face. it no longer felt cold out with the amount of heat flowing through your body. you absolutely loved the gift, it was so simple yet so thoughtful.

you turn back around to face timothée, the pendant in your hand gazing at it. "its beautiful, timmy. i love it so much." your arms being thrown around his neck giving him a long hug. "thank you." you whisper to him.

"your welcome, beautiful. it looks great on you."

you look back down at the necklace. a gold chained necklace withe a gold T as the charm dangling off. you were never taking this off.

"i love you." you look him in the eyes.

"i love you." timothée says the same to you, leaning in for a kiss.

you and timothée were both right. this was the best christmas break ever. filled with sweet and loving memories you'll never forget.

[yournameoneverypage]

Moon Over Miami

Anon request; Shawn Mendes x (y/n).

~3.1k

Warnings: Language.

~ * ~

You scowled at your overflowing carry on. You really didn’t want to bring something bigger, because that would mean baggage check and waiting at luggage carousels and that was just a headache waiting to happen.

Shawn was stretched across your bed on his back, tossing a tennis ball in the air and catching it again. “(Y/n), it’s Miami and we’re only going to be there for four days,” he chuckled. “You do not need to pack so many clothes.”

“Yes, I do. You’re a boy; you don’t understand.”

“First off, I am not a boy. I am a man, and a very attractive one at that.”

You rolled your eyes. Even if you wholeheartedly agreed, you were not going to stroke his ego.

“At the very least, lose most of the makeup. You’ll just sweat it off anyway. And you know I like you better without all that gunk on your face.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t like, now does it?” you snarked.

He sat up and leaned back against the pillows at the headboard. “I just meant that you’re already so pretty, naturally.”

Shawn was always finding little ways to compliment you and, secretly, you loved it, even if it made you blush, even if it was hard to believe some days.

“Fine.” You threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “You pack for me then.”

“Fine. I will.” He stood from the bed and poked your side. “So dramatic,” he teased, dancing his fingertips from ribcage to hip.

You gave him a small shove, and quickly moved out of tickling range (he knew where your most sensitive spots were). You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Don’t stick it out unless you intend to use it,” he smirked.

“Ha! You wish,” you giggled.

~ * ~

You and Shawn.

It was...confusing.

You had first met him five months ago and had become a regular fixture in his life over the past three. You were friends, good friends. Good friends who spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Good friends who flirted. A lot.

There were feelings, definitely on your side, growing stronger every day you spent together, and you were starting to believe there were deeper feelings on his side as well.

Other than outright pressing your lips to his, and you had never really been that forward with anyone, you weren’t sure what to do to tip the scales from friendship and flirtation to more.

You could simply tell him you were falling for him and that you wanted to take your relationship to the next level, but that scared you even more than the thought of kissing him.

~ * ~

Fifteen minutes later, Shawn stood smugly beside you. Your bag was packed neatly, and you were happy with everything he chose (not that you would admit that to him), which showed you he knew you better than you thought he did. There was even enough room left over for accessories.

It shouldn’t have surprised you; he was pretty adept at packing, having been on tour so often.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“But you want to.”

Shawn laughed.

You only added two things, just to prove a point.

~ * ~

You may as well have been in Florida with only Brian and Connor for as often as Shawn had been around the first two days.

The trip had started out incredibly.

You took a redeye from LA to Miami. Shawn held your hand during takeoff and landing. It was your first time flying first class; you didn’t care that you slept through most of it.

Shawn had rented a 3-bedroom beachfront bungalow for the long weekend and had ordered a breakfast basket to be waiting for you when you got there. Everyone ate their fill of croissants and muffins and fresh fruit while you sipped your tea and coffee. Afterward you all agreed that a morning nap poolside sounded ideal.

Shawn claimed the double lounger for the two of you. You curled up beside him and he threw a light blanket over both his and your legs. You laid your head on his shoulder and were asleep within minutes.

When you opened your eyes again, after the best nap you may have ever had in your life thus far, Shawn was no longer beside you. You could see him just inside the back door, talking on his phone.

“Hey,” he announced, returning to the patio, after seeing that you, Brian, and Connor had all awoken. “I’m going to catch up with Camila. I’ll text you after lunch; see where you are.”

~ * ~

You didn’t see Shawn again that first day until you were making plans to spend the evening in South Beach for sunset drinks, dinner, and then a pub crawl for even more drinking.

The boys teased you for being such a lightweight. You were blissfully buzzed, which made it easier for you to let your inhibitions go. Shawn was more intoxicated than you were, which made it a lot easier for you to tug him onto the dance floor.

Flush against him while you moved together to the music, fingertips grazing bare skin, it was too easy to forget that you had been upset with him at all.

Spending all afternoon at the Bayside Market in the hot Miami sun, followed by a night of drinking and dancing into the very early hours of the morning had finally caught up with you. By the time you made it back to the bungalow, you were piggyback on Shawn, your sandals dangling from his fingers by the straps.

~ * ~

Day 2 began with three boys nursing hangovers much worse than yours. You did little things to annoy them, on purpose, which was, admittedly, not very nice of you. You knew they’d had enough when they decided to throw you in the pool. When Shawn reached out, laughing, to help you out, you pulled him in instead.

He chased you into one of the corners of the deep end, trapping you between the pool wall and his hard, wet chest, his arms on either side of you. You had to hold onto his biceps to keep yourself afloat, which, from the look in his eyes, was exactly how and where he wanted you.

Your heart was telling you to use this position to your advantage, finally tip those scales, and you might have if it had been the night before when you were a little drunk. Regretfully, you were sober and when you were sober you tended to overthink things. Now that you were sober, he was too close.

You ducked underwater, under his arm, and quickly pulled yourself out of the pool.

~ * ~

Once you were dry and dressed, you dragged Shawn, Connor, and Brian to Wynwood to go on a golf cart tour of the Walls. They had all been to Miami before, more than once, so they had put you in charge of the itinerary.

From Wynwood you made your way to Little Havana.

After a string of late afternoon texts from Camila, Shawn asked if she could join the four of you for dinner. He wanted you to meet her.

They tried their best to be inclusive throughout dinner, and Camila was certainly nice enough, but still you felt like the fifth wheel, the spare, most of the time.

After dinner, Shawn and Camila wandered off together. When it became clear that Shawn wouldn’t be returning to the house with the rest of you, your heart sank. You stewed in your hurt until it became anger.

You understood that Camila was one of Shawn’s best friends, and he hadn’t seen her for a while. You could forgive him for the day before, but this was supposed to be your trip. You, Brian, Connor, and Shawn. D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers. If all Shawn had wanted to do was hang out with Camila, why had he bothered to invite you at all? You held no grudge against or felt any ill will toward Camila. It wasn’t her fault that Shawn was being a clueless dick.

~ * ~

You were laying on your side, looking out the window of which you forgot to close the blinds. The moon reflected off the still water of the pool that you could see from your room.

You heard the quietest clearing of someone’s throat. You rolled over to see Shawn leaning against the frame of the doorway, bare chested, in soft gray pajama bottoms.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly. You couldn’t sleep either, even though you were exhausted.

You really didn’t want to spend the remainder of your time in Miami being angry with him. There were still two days left. You patted the mattress on the empty side of your bed. That was all the invitation he needed.

Shawn crawled into bed beside you, tugged on the open collar of the other half of his pajamas, and chuckled, “Thief.”

“It’s so soft, and it smells like you,” you whispered.

Shawn laid his head on your stomach and you instinctively started to run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently on his curls. You heard him sigh deeply, contentedly, and the next thing you remembered was waking up to the bright morning sun.

~ * ~

You smiled and stretched languidly. Shawn must have made his way back to his own room during the night sometime. You didn’t hear anyone else up and about yet. You decided to surprise the boys by making breakfast.

Brian and Connor stumbled into the kitchen, following the smell of sizzling bacon and strong coffee.

“Is Shawn still sleeping?” you asked.

Connor and Brian exchanged a look. Connor cleared his throat and said, “Shawn isn’t here.”

You didn’t even have to ask where he had gone. Returning to your room you retrieved your phone on the nightstand. You hadn’t bothered to check it when you woke up.

There was a group text from Shawn that read:

Grabbing a workout and then a quick breakfast with Camila. Be back soon.

Brian and Connor were nearly finished eating when Shawn returned, oblivious to what he was walking into. He grabbed a few slices of bacon and sat down to join them at the kitchen island.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Brian and Connor shook their heads at him. “You can be such a prick sometimes,” Brian said. Both he and Connor then stood and left the room.

Confused, Shawn glanced around and suddenly it all made sense. “Shit,” he said to himself, under his breath.

~ * ~

Shawn stood in your bedroom doorway like he had the night before.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You refused to acknowledge him.

“I didn’t know you were going to make breakfast or I would have been back sooner.”

You wanted to bite at him that he shouldn’t have been gone at all.

You had just pulled on your swimsuit cover up when you turned to him. His eyes snapped from your ass to your eyes. You slipped on your sunglasses, grabbed your beach bag, and said, “Brian, Connor, and I will be on the beach, if you decide you want to join us.” You pushed past him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he replied.

~ * ~

You purposely chose to wear the smallest, sexiest bikini you had with you. It wasn’t one you yourself would have packed but since Shawn had been the one to pack your carry on he must have wanted to see you in it. The day you bought it was a day when you were feeling particularly confident in your body.

By the time Shawn made it down to the beach, he found you in conversation with two young men who weren’t Brian or Connor. You had removed your cover up and stood before them in your tiny white string bikini.

You were laughing at something one of them was saying. Shawn saw you reach out and briefly place your hand on his forearm.

Shawn was unprepared for the surge of violent irritation that nearly overtook him.

He saw you notice him. He bristled when you leaned in and said something in the other man's ear. He watched as you slid the temple tip of your sunglasses between your teeth. He saw you put your hand on your waist and slightly arch your back. He watched as you touched the small pendant of the necklace you were wearing and drew it away from the skin between your breasts.

Shawn hated the way the two men were looking at you. His stomach churned; his muscles tensed; his heart felt too tight in his chest. He couldn't take anymore.

Sidling up beside you, he wrapped his large hand around the nape of your neck, gently yet possessively.

“Oh, hi Shawn,” you said casually, shrugging out of his grip. “Meet my new friends, Chase and Evan.” You smiled at them, fluttering your eyelashes and biting softly on your lower lip.

“Boyfriend?” Chase asked.

“Oh no, Shawn and I are just friends.” You eased closer to Evan and reached out, meaning to touch the bracelet he was wearing, but before you could, Shawn grabbed your wrist.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he gritted through a fake smile, pulling you away.

“Let go of me,” you snapped. He did, immediately. He never had nor would he ever do anything to physically hurt you.

Brian and Connor, having seen more than enough, hurried toward you. They made you and Shawn take a step back.

“What the hell is going on?” Connor exclaimed.

“(Y/n) is being childish,” Shawn growled.

Maybe you were, but you were upset, goddamn it. “Me?! Look who’s talking! You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend! You have no claim on me!”

“You’re both being childish!” bit Brian. “And you’re starting to cause a scene. Get over yourselves and fucking talk like adults. If you can’t, walk away,” he admonished.

Shawn ran a hand through his hair and tugged frustratingly on his curls before storming off.

Brian gestured for Connor to stay with you and he followed after Shawn.

“Why did you have to antagonize him?” Connor questioned.

You glared at him. “This is not my fault. Of course you’re on his side.”

“I am on no one’s side. You’re both at fault, and you fucking know it. Yeah, he’s kind of been an asshole, but you didn’t have to flirt with those guys so brazenly right in front of him.” Connor’s voice softened. “You know how he feels about you, (y/n). You should apologize.”

You were thoroughly abashed but still feeling stubborn. You turned on Connor and said, “I will when he does.”

You put your cover up back on, slipped into your sandals, and grabbed your clutch which held your wallet, your eReader, and your phone. You trusted Connor to bring everything else back to the bungalow for you.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For a walk. I need to be alone.”

~ * ~

The sun was going down when you returned to the house.

When you walked in the door, Shawn, who had been sitting on the edge of the ottoman, stood, and approached you cautiously. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You were starting to worry us,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry. I needed some time to cool off and to think.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” His relief was palpable. He stepped even closer to you. “I’m sorry. For how I acted and what I said on the beach. It’s inexcusable.”

“I am, too. I should never have purposely tried to upset you.” You unconsciously reached out and ran your fingertips along the V of Shawn’s t-shirt. “That was the first time we’ve ever fought... I didn’t like it.”

He covered your hand with his, flattening your palm against his heart, which you could feel was beating quite quickly. “Come and have dinner. It’s time to stop thinking and start talking.”

He smirked and began walking backward, hand still over yours.

It was that smirk that set your heart thumping. You followed, curiously, anxiously.

On the back patio was a romantic table set for two, surrounded by tea lights and lit candles.

“Shawn? What’s going on?” you asked, breathlessly.

He crossed to the table and pulled one of the chairs out for you. “Sit, Love. Eat.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?” He felt as if his heart might break.

“Too many butterflies.” You softly bit your bottom lip.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Can we talk first?”

“Of course.”

You walked over to and sat down on the outdoor sectional.

Shawn dropped down beside you with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’ve been, well, an asshole seems to be the overall consensus. I shouldn’t have ditched you to spend so much time with Camila.”

“I know you’re close,” you said, “and I know it had been awhile since you’d seen her. I tried to be understanding.”

“No,” he interrupted, “this is on me. This was supposed to be our trip. You, Brian, Connor, and me.”

“D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers,” you said in unison and you both laughed.

Shawn leaned closer you. “Do you want to know the truth?” he asked, as if it was the greatest secret he held, which, to him, it was. “She was talking me through my feelings for you.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “She made it very clear to me that I was ‘estúpido’ for spending time with her instead of the person I should be, for talking through my feelings with her instead of with the one I really needed to talk with.”

“You have feelings for me?” you breathed, feeling your entire body flush, not just your cheeks.

Shawn laughed softly and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “It’s not obvious? I was jealous of those other guys because I want to be the boyfriend. I want the right to call you mine... I’m falling in love with you, (y/n). Which is insane since we haven’t even kissed yet. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to; every time I see you I want to kiss you.”

Without warning, you pressed your lips to his. It took him not even a moment to respond, pulling you onto his lap and cupping your face. Kissing Shawn was even better than you had ever imagined it would be.

When finally you eased away from him, breathless, you confessed, “I’m falling in love with you too, Shawn. I want you to be mine. I want to be only yours.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you whenever I want to?” he whispered, grinning happily.

“Over and over and over again,” you breathed.

His lips once more met yours. Your hands encircled the nape of his neck. Tender and unhurried turned deep and delicious.

Your lips left his with an audible ‘aʘa’ and you giggled. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

Shawn’s answering laugh, rich and lightsome, was everything.

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida

[alrightberries]

glimpse of me and you

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff. ❈ word count: 2.6k

❈ summary: It’s your first day out of the Underground District and on the surface. Levi helps you get settled.

❈ trigger warnings: profanity.

a/n: i would like to confess that i was in A Mood.

mini sequel: truly, madly, deeply

i. morning

The first thing you noticed was that it was bright. Too bright.

Not the kind of brightness you saw in the warm glowing lamps that littered the Underground District, but the kind that made your eyes squint and feel sore- like they were going to pop out of your head any time soon. Your hand slips out of Levi’s to block out the light hurting your irises.

He stops walking up the staircase and turns to look at you.

“Here.” He murmurs. He places down the boxes he was holding and takes off his green Survey Corps cape, draping it around your shoulders and clasping it at the front before drawing the hood over your face. The sunlight is no longer as harsh.

“Better?” He asks, and you nod.

“Much. Thank you, Levi.”

He hums in acknowledgement, one hand picking up the boxes with your luggage and the other one slipping through yours to slowly lead you up the staircase once more. He could tell from how you squeezed his hand and kept taking deep breaths behind him that you were nervous. He couldn’t blame you, either. He remembers being the same with Isabel and Farlan two years ago.

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since he was captured and taken to the surface. Since last saw your face and heard his name slip from your lips.

It took the better part of two years to barely scrape up enough money to buy you citizenship, but as he leads you through the stairway with your warm hand in his, he knows he wouldn’t hesitate do it all again.

For you.

“It’s going to be brighter once we reach the surface.” He says. The last step of the stairway was nearing. “I know you won’t, but close your eyes if you have to. You might get disoriented if you don’t.”

True to his words, you did end up getting disoriented because you refused to close your eyes. But really now, how could you? 26 years you’ve waited for this day to come. And you would be damned if you didn’t take everything in the second you set foot above ground for the first time.

As you reached the surface, Levi notices you flinching, turning your head away from the light and gritting your teeth once you set foot on the cobble stoned streets above. Despite your clear discomfort at the brightness, you made no move to close your eyes. In fact, you even braved to let them roam around.

“Stubborn dumbass.” He scolds quietly.

He leads you a little ways off from the exit of the stairway to put your stuff in the small wagon in front of you. The small wagon was drawn by a gorgeous black horse, and you realize that this was probably the beloved mare Levi spoke of in his letters.

“Is this Estreya?” You ask. Levi hums in agreement and takes the last box you were holding to place it with the rest of your luggage with a low grunt.

When he looks back at you he notices your eyes are still squinted, but your teeth were no longer gritted. The hood was still drawn over your face and one of your hands was still shielding your eyes from the burning light. You weren’t even going to lie, you were half terrified that your eyes were going to melt from how hot the sun was.

“Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

You scoff. “Yeah, because horses are really common in the Underground.”

He doesn’t reply to your quip. Though the way his eyebrows relax and his lips twitch up in the slightest doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Ride the wagon. You’ll fall on your ass if you try to go on horseback.”

“If you say so, Captain Levi.” 

It was now his turn to grit his teeth. He knew he shouldn’t have told you about his promotion.

“Tch, just get on. Or I’ll leave you stranded in Wall Sina.”

ii. noon

The wagon ride to Wall Rose was something you could only describe as ethereal.

You hadn’t the faintest idea the sky was so big and blue, and how fluffy the clouds seemed to be. The sky seemed to stretch for miles and miles, and knowing that there wasn’t a ceiling above you almost made you want to cry.

Wall Sina was beautiful, as well. Especially the market. The market you passed by almost made you want to stop the wagon and drag Levi from stall to stall to see what they had. They housed probably the most vibrant colored fruits and vegetables you’ve ever seen, and the smell of freshly baked bread made your mouth water. Not to mention, the air didn’t smell like moisture or piss or shit. 

“Don’t get any ideas.” He says, noticing your longing stare at the colorful tents. “You look like you’re about to jump off the wagon.”

“Will you leave me stranded if I do?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

Undoubtedly, though, your favorite view from the ride would be what Levi called “the suburbs.”

The tallness of the trees. The freshness of the air. The sounds of ruffling leaves. Birds and critters running around the ground and flying through the sky. The beautiful greens and blues were the biggest contrast to the drab grays and blacks you typically saw in the Underground District, and now you understood why Levi was so hellbent on taking you to the surface and never looking back.

“We’re almost there.” You hear him call out from in front of you.

Your eyes stop wandering around what Levi called a “valley”. You look past his figure sitting on the horse, spotting a castle made of bricks. It looked small from this distance but the closer you got, the more you realized that distance could be deceiving.

“Is that the Survey Corps’ base?” 

“No, it’s a fucking circus.” He replies sarcastically.

“What’s a circus?”

“It’s— nevermind.”

iii. afternoon

When you got to Levi’s private quarters, you didn’t hesitate to ask for a spare towel so you could take a shower.

You didn’t even bother kissing him or unpacking your things or… making up for lost time, if you will. Instead you made a beeline for the private bathroom connected to his bedroom and spent a good hour inside, talking to him through the door about how you’ve been looking forward to taking a proper shower all week. Levi had to drag you out and stop you from wasting more of the Survey Corps’ water reservoir.

“So, let me get this straight.” You mutter. 

You were sitting on his bed and he was sitting on a chair across from you. Your hair was still damp and your upper half was clad in a spare Survey Corps button down, while your bottom half was clad in nothing but your underwear.

Levi had complained that your clothes from the Underground were too dirty and would have to be washed. You called him rude, only relenting when he offered to do your laundry. But he wasn’t about to complain about the extra chores when it gave him this view.

“You’ve been captain for an entire year and only bothered to tell last week?”

“Yes.” Came his stoic reply.

“But why?!”

“I’m not hearing the end of this any time soon, am I?”

Before you could respond, Levi hears loud banging from his office door (which you noticed was connected to his bedroom) and he sighs as he wordlessly covers your bare legs with a blanket. Confused eyes met his, and all he could do was shrug as he heard the office door breakdown. The loud banging was now being directed at the bedroom door, the only thing separating you from what you assumed was some rabid raccoon.

“Levi motherfucking Ackerman!” You hear someone shriek from the other side of the wood. Okay, so maybe it’s not a rabid raccoon. “Open this door right this instant!”

You hear the lock clicking and the knob turning rapidly. Despite knowing you should probably be scared, you can’t help but smile at Levi’s clear irritation. It wasn’t the genuine kind of irritation. It was the kind he showed to Isabel— the one where he pretends to be annoyed but secretly enjoys their company.

“It’s not locked, four-eyes.” He replies.

Ah, so this must be the Hange he’s been complaining about.

“Then why can’t I open it?!”

“It’s push, not pull.”

Immediately, the banging stops, and silence takes over the room. But the silence is short lived when Hange suddenly kicks the door open and you jump from surprise. 

“Don’t think that I wouldn’t find out about you bringing a civilian to the base, Ackerman!” Hange points an accusing finger at Levi’s bored face. 

“I’d be more surprised if you didn’t. Considering I asked you to sign the authorization letter.”

The soldier ignores Levi’s quip and quickly makes their way over to you, sitting down next to your side and extending a hand.

“The name’s Hange Zoe, Section Commander of the Survey Corps. And you are?”

You warily accept their offer of a handshake. Your eyes briefly flit over to where Levi was still sat, relaxing a bit when he nods to your silent question of whether or not it was safe.

“Y/N.” You give them a polite smile. 

“When Moblit told me Levi brought a civilian to the base, I was ecstatic!” 

What the fuck is a Moblit? You wonder.

Your hands were still joined, and you weren’t sure if prolonged and drawn out handshakes were a custom of the surface. Not wanting to be rude, you continued to shake Hange’s hand, nodding along as they continued on.

“I didn’t peg shorty as the type to play boyfriend.”

“Neither did I.” You chuckled. “But he’s been more than wonderful. He’s more than I could ever ask for.”

Levi bites back the smile teasing his lips.

“Stop shaking Hange's hand. You’ll catch rabies or some shit.”

iv. evening

It was nearing six o’clock when Levi finally convinced Hange to go away, but only with the promise that he would introduce you to his squadron later at dinner. Normally he’d detest the idea of sharing intimate details about his personal life, but as he listens to you ask question after question about the surface, he deems the small sacrifice was more than worth this small moment with you.

“You said the surface was going to be hot. Why is it so cold now?” You ask, settling into the bed. Levi lifts up the blanket and begins to lie down beside you.

“Because it’s almost night.” He says simply. “It’s hot in the day and cold in the night.”

“Is it always like that?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “It depends on the season.”

He feels you shift closer to him, lifting his arm up and placing it around your waist as your head rests on his chest. He takes a deep breath, and the smell that was so uniquely you fills up his lungs. He almost hums in delight because it’s been two years; he hasn’t had this in two years, and no force on earth could ever take it away from him again.

“Season?” You murmur, sleepy eyes staring into his. 

Levi immediately knows that you’re a bedtime story away from snoozing, and he figures the fatigue is to be expected. You were, after all, being introduced to too many things at once. And judging by the bags under your eyes, you were probably too happy about going to the surface to get any sleep last night.

“Yeah. There are four seasons above ground: winter, summer, spring, and fall. Right now, it’s spring.”

“Will you tell me about the seasons?” 

He feels you shift, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“You missed.”

You smile. A hand gently reaches out to grasp his chin, pulling his face towards yours to give him a gentle kiss. When you try to pull away, Levi pulls you back in.

“If you’re going to kiss me, do it properly.” He muses as your lips broke apart. The arm wrapped around your waist holds onto you a little tighter as you relax to his side once again, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. His thumb rubs small, gentle circles into your arm.

“The flowers bloom in spring. Everything blooms.” He explains. “In fall, the temperature gets colder so the leaves start changing colors.”

“What colors do they become?”

“Mostly brown or orange.”

You nod.

“In winter, that’s when things start getting really cold. Colder than the Underground. Snow starts falling and everything gets covered in it. It’s annoying.”

“But don’t you use winter as an excuse to... y’know, convince your bosses to spend more money on tea leaves?”

It was now his turn to nod, and you merely let out a chuckle. He feels your breath fanning against his neck and he doesn’t stop his head from lulling into yours. He really did miss having you in his arms.

“Figures.” You yawn. “You’re obsessed with that stuff.”

He feels a sleepy kiss press against his collarbones, and he places a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Get some sleep.” He murmurs. “I’ll wake you up for dinner.”

“But you haven’t told me about summer yet.”

A small smile makes its way to his lips, and Levi was thankful that you couldn’t see. He’d never hear the end of your teasing if you did.

“If I tell you, will you stop annoying me?”

“Possibly.”

“Okay.”

v. midnight

The first thing Levi notices is that it was dark. Too dark. 

A brief glimpse out his open window confirms his suspicions that it was, indeed, night time. He probably slept through dinner.

The second thing Levi notices is that his entire right side was numb and there was a heavy weight on his body, some of it crushing his arm. He hears your sleepy voice mumble his name in your sleep, and he relaxes once he remembers the events of today.

He kept his promise.

You had an entire future ahead of you, and Levi’s heart warms at the thought. Sure, you were a civilian who couldn’t stay in the Survey Corps base forever; and he should probably start helping you job hunt so you could both start saving up for a new house. He’d fight you tooth and nail if you tried to join the military though, and something tells him you probably wouldn’t listen.

But he kept his promise. And that’s all that mattered for now.

He hears you shift in his arms before taking a sharp inhale, and your eyes sleepily open. They glance around the room, trying to remember where you were, before landing on him. A small smile teases your lips, adoration blossoming in your heart at the man in front of you.

“What time is it?” You softly ask. One of your hands reaches out to rub your eyes before he feels a warm palm come to rest on his stomach.

“Late.” He replies. His free hand lands on your soft cheek, and he tilts your head down so he can kiss your forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

You only nod, too tired to argue. You break free from his grasp and Levi is momentarily disappointed when you turn the other way. But then your hand reaches out behind you to sling his arm over your waist, and he shifts closer when he realizes you wanted to spoon.

“So I don’t kill your arm.” You explain quietly.

Levi presses his chest to your back and his leg wraps around yours. His nose is buried into the crown of your hair and he couldn’t help but take a deep inhale and close his eyes. Your hand intertwines with the one slung around your waist, and he feels you lift up your conjoined hands to place a kiss to his knuckles.

“I love you, Levi.”

This time, Levi doesn’t bother to hide his smile. It wasn’t the first time you’ve said I love you, and it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. But it would never cease to amaze Levi how just three short words could turn his stoic and uninterested demeanor into one of smiles that reached his eyes. 

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“Marry me.”

mini sequel: truly, madly, deeply

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

[sinisterlyhan]

02. kim seungmin /  9435 words

female reader, virgin reader and virgin seungmin, oral (f & mreceiving), unprotected sex (this one is by choice, have safe sex everyone!), making out, fingering, angst with fluff

tw: light mentions of insecurities

a/n: hello, i am back after my sudden mini-hiatus to ruin everyone’s day! i have not written smut in a while, so i hope this piece isn’t too bad. also, the first part of this piece was originally posted on my sfw account so if you find something that is the exact same, that is also me.

you have always gotten emotional over seungmin leaving. even if it was just for a one-week christmas break with his friends, or a two-week music camp field trip with his choir group, or a two-month summer vacation with his family—you have gotten emotional over him leaving one way or another.

not dramatically, of course. it wasn’t like you were spilling waterfalls of tears and throwing temper tantrums over not being able to see or hold him for seven days straight; if that was the case, seungmin knew for a fact that he would not be able to handle it, especially since those absent days happen every single year.

you just get a little naggy, caringly naggy, like you’ve got amnesia every five minutes and you would keep reminding him to take care of himself, or make sure to have a good time, or think about you when he is away.

and seungmin does. he always does. whether it is at night on the soft hotel bed or walking down a loud foreign street, he makes space for you in his head and he shows that he has been thinking about you by sending you pictures and getting you souvenirs.

sometimes he becomes the annoying one because he keeps spamming you with pictures. you still remember playfully threatening to block his number after he sent you a frame by frame set of pictures, where you saw the entire process of jeongin tripping on jisung’s fallen body (because he tripped on thin air first) and falling to the ground.

it was a good blackmail material. you could pinpoint exactly the moment where jeongin realized he would be making friends with the brick ground, his eyes wide in alert and his arms flailing out in a poor attempt to grasp the air for support. when the boys came back from music camp that year, you made sure to give jeongin a big smooch on the head, which he begrudgingly accepted.

you have always gotten emotional over seungmin leaving. but not this time, not in a sense that you didn’t feel anything about his departure, it was just that… you were different this time.

you were ecstatic the first moment you heard that seungmin, along with his friends, passed theit idol audition and would get the chance to train under a prestigious entertainment. it has always been his dream to sing for people, you had been beyond proud of him to achieve the spot. it was until he broke it to you that he would have to move to seoul to pursue his opportunity when the realization finally dawned upon your silly, silly head.

he has to leave. he wasn’t breaking up with you, no, but he has to leave. for however many years it would take for him to qualify for debuting, and after that, there would be years of the dating ban, and then there would also be tight schedules and long distances.

seungmin was only leaving the city, but it felt like he was leaving you.

you left him to his own devices after that, stalling and wasting all the times you could have spent with him to make the remaining days count. you spared no playful nagging and no playful reminders, just unread texts and missed calls.

it was too much for you, you feared too much of the uncertainty—what if you couldn’t be patient enough for him? what if he couldn’t resist another’s seduction for you? what if the both of you couldn’t fight against time, the time that would pick and pinch at your affection for each other until there is nothing left to share?

seungmin zipped up his luggage just as the door to his bedroom knocked. he barely glanced behind his shoulder to look at it, his back arched in pure exhaustion at how his heart had been spiraling depressively for the past week. it was his last night in his home, his last night in his home city, that alone was enough to make him feel anxious and homesick.

but nothing had prepared him for how disastrously affected his heart would be when he realized he might have to leave without seeing you, without touching you, and without hearing that you love him once more.

the impatient knock came again and he finally stood up, his brows furrowed in annoyance. he moved over to his door, ready to tell his mother for the fifth time this night that he would not be changing his mind and he did remember to bring enough clothes, but when he swung open the door, it was you who stood before him instead.

“hey…” you said, clutching your jacket tightly.

he opened his mouth but only air slipped out. you looked as tired as he did, and he could tell you have cried yourself to sleep for the past days. as much as he wanted to immediately wrap you in his arms, to feel you against him, he found himself stepping aside and giving you space into his room first.

his room was as dim as it usually was during night time, when seungmin has the habit of turning off the main light on the ceiling and instead, flipping on the warmer light on the wall. it was a cloud-shaped light; seungmin hated it until you decided to decorate it with cartoon stickers during a sleepover. he has never looked at it the same way again.

the first thing you saw was the luggage on the floor, packed and ready to be sent away. your heart dropped slightly at its indication, then you quickly picked yourself back up. you have talked to yourself about this, you have thought about this and decided you wanted to support his dreams instead of dwelling in your misery until the sadness replaced itself with guilt and missed chances.

“you–you packed,” you said, gesturing towards the luggage on the floor before you turned around to face him.

“yeah.“ seungmin nodded. “i leave tomorrow morning.”

you hummed in defeated acknowledgment. the tension was more longing than awkward, the air waiting for one of you to break out of restraint first. turning to look at his opened closet, you raised a brow at the empty hangers lining up to the side of the closet before you finally caught sight of three colorful hoodies hung at the farthest corner.

you laughed meekly as you pointed at it, hiding the sobs in your throat. “you–you idiot! you forgot to pack your favorite hoodies.”

seungmin looked over, his fingers fiddling together nervously as his mouth hung open in a poor attempt to explain why he had left those there. his mind fired quickly and the first thing he did was only to state the obvious. “i am going to leave them here.”

you frowned at him, your lips curling down and your cheeks bulging out at the pressure. 

seungmin softened at your incredulously curious eyes, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he waited for you to speak. “but why? you should at least take the blue one, you look so good in it and it’s your absolute favorite one.”

he licked his lower lip, a faint smile blossoming on his face. he stared at you, blinking gently. “it’s your favorite one. they’re your favorite hoodies too.”

you sucked in a rapid breath, understanding his intentions. he left those there for you, a token of your relationship, a token of his love. it was a way to tell you that he, until the last minute, still thought about you; a way that didn’t require the use of cheesy text messages or well thought out confessions, which he was never very good at anyway.

just three colorful hoodies in his empty closet, all of them covered in his warmth and his scent.

you bit your lower lip to hold down a sob as you walked over to the closet. it was much less messy than usual, which felt out of place for you. being able to see the shoe boxes stacked at the back of the closet was unfamiliar, they were usually covered by his shirts and sweaters, occasionally seeing the light of day when seungmin pushes the clothes to the side or you steal one of his shirts again.

peeling the light blue hoodies off the hanger, you carefully threw it over your head and marveled at the way that even though its fabric went loose around your torso, you felt fulfilled and warm wearing it. bringing your sweater paws up to your cheeks, you inhaled the sleeves and closed your eyes at the smell of flowery detergent mixed with seungmin’s familiar fragrance.

it was a match made in heaven; it was a smell you could recognize even if you were rid of most of your senses because for so long, it was what home smelt like to you, and it still is what home smells like to you.

would you forget, after years of separating from him? would you still remember it but somehow he stopped feeling like home anymore? would your heart lose him to time and distance?

seungmin sighed with the shattering of his heart when he heard you choke out a sob. you had begun to cry, your tears staining the hoodie sleeve as you wailed your fears and longings away, and he wasn’t very sure what to do. he was never good at handling criers because he wasn’t one, and neither were you before this happened.

“(name)…” he took a step forward but stopped when you turned around.

“i’m so sorry for ignoring you these weeks,” you said, your voice teary and timid, but loud and strong enough to make seungmin’s heart pound against his chest. “i’m sorry if i made you think i don’t support you and your dreams. i need you to know that i do and if you have to leave this place to go after it, you should.”

to be honest, the idea that you didn’t support him has never crossed his mind. he knew you would, for some reason. you had always been there for choir shows, you listened to him talk about all the musical things he did during camp despite not understand instrumental talk, you never failed to praise him for his incredible vocal talent—you had always been the first in line when it comes to him and singing.

you were upset, he understood, that he had to leave you here and he only gave you a two weeks notice that he would be leaving for years, plus the uncertainty that your relationship may never work out as smoothly as it could when he was still an unknown high school boy with big dreams.

he couldn’t get mad at you for avoiding him until the last minute. 

for one, he understood why. he supposed he would be pretty disheartened if you did the same thing as well. for two, he just couldn’t bring himself to get mad at you at a time like this, when he needed his last memories of you to be nothing but loving and heartfelt.

heaving a sigh, he got on the bed and scooted to the middle where he sat with his feet dangling off the edge. he opened his arms and beckoned you over softly. “come here, my love.”

you did, stumbling closer to him until your thigh met with his feet. he leaned in to hold your hands, giving your arms a few childish swings before he pulled you on his lap, helping you position yourself by circling his arms around your waist and preventing you from falling off his thighs.

you sniffed when he kissed your cheeks, giggling in feign disgust when he grimaced with a complaint about your tears having a salty taste, and you burst into another fit of feathery laughter when he went to smooch your cheeks again just to mend the dry trail of waterfalls down your skin.

“i missed you so much,” you muttered, your voice almost giving away as you cupped his jaw in your hands and stared into his heart-shaped eyes.

“i missed you too,” he mumbled under his breath, bringing you closer to him unconsciously. “i am so sorry for making you cry.”

you hummed in disagreement as you lightly shook your head. your fingers pressed against his cheeks, clinging to them and hugging his face carefully in a way seungmin never wanted you to let go. your accepting smile made him fall, again and again, and he had to hold himself down so he wouldn’t kiss you right then and there.

“i’m sorry for wasting all these times, we could have been this close every night,” you said quietly, trailing over his features with your teary eyes. “i hope i am not too late.”

seungmin smiled, his eyes squinting with a crinkle of his nose. you can never be too late for him, his heart is ready for you at any moment of his remaining life, whether it is thinking about you quietly or having you pressed near his body.

seungmin will always be ready for you, all that you will give him and all that he is ready to give you.

“it’s never too late to kiss me,” he whispered close to your lips, feeling your back squirm under the weight of his words.

rolling your eyes at his words, you squeezed his cheeks before gladly leaning in so you could press your lips against his. his fingers gingerly clawed at your lower back as he other hand flew up to hold your wrist, any attempt just to touch your bare skin.

god, your lips. your soft, soft lips, made out of sugar and spice. he could play a thousand strings and sing a thousand words about them; about how kissing you always make him feel so needed and loved, how it makes him feel like there is nothing else he can do better aside from giving you every ounce of strength he has.

it opens a gate to his heart he didn’t even know he had, one only you can open because you are the key.

with the influence of his excited heart, seungmin suddenly started to graze your lip with his teeth, his brows furrowing passionately when he caught your lower lip between them.

you let out a breathy moan, surprised. but you only had too little time to dwell in the shock before you opened your mouth and allowed seungmin to do whatever he wanted.

adrenaline rushed up to your lungs, causing a ruckus beneath your bones as your mind chased itself into chaos. he has never kissed you with such urgency before, with silent pleads pierced in the tip of his tongue and desperate longing tattooed in the way he moved against you. he was kissing you to make you breathless, to make your burn with revelation.

seungmin kissed you intending to linger, so the shape and the taste of his lips will haunt you every day and night when he is away. and damn, it was so good, you were drenched in blissful abandon to let him take full control over you.

amidst this heated moment, seungmin forced himself to pull away for a brief moment to allow his hazy mind to settle down. both of you were adrift somewhere in paradise and both of you had no plans of returning any time sooner.

you kept yourself close to him, your upper lip positioned tenderly against his, taunting him to resist, daring him to let go once more. your eyes were as gone as seungmin’s were when you stared into them, and you inwardly worshipped the way his inky black eyes, devoured in thunderstorms and fallen ashes, could pull you to him so effortlessly.

“i love you, okay?” he declared breathlessly, but his tone was filled to the brim with sincerity. “i love you, three or ten years from now.”

three or ten years from now, whether he only gets to talk to you every weekend or every three months, whether it would be easy to find the right time to catch up with each other or if the process would make him want to pull his hair out—seungmin loves you, and he will wait until he can love you.

“wait for me, please,” he pleaded then, the ocean in his eyes seemed brighter and ready to spill, causing heartache in your chest. he was clutching the hoodie and pressing your hand to his cheek, his shaky movements only calming down at your warmth.

wait for me. seungmin was asking. wait for me, remember me, hold on to me.

you felt like crying again. the volcanic sadness stays no matter how many times you convince yourself things would turn out fine, that you could live without him being near you eventually.

you could deal with the quiet, you could deal with not anticipating his presence when you leave home, you could deal with the untouched skin and unkissed lips. yes, you could, you have to.

“i will, i promise” you replied in a hush, lowering your head. “i’m going to miss you so much.”

seungmin pressed his thumb to your eye carefully, swiping across the wet corners and making you chuckle as you leaned against his palm, looking up at him again.

“i will text you all the time. if i don’t, my friends will,” he grumbled with a scoff, remember how bitter he felt when it took jeongin no amount of effort to get your phone number back then while he had to stall a whole week before mustering up the courage to do so. “we will keep in touch, we all will.”

“you guys better,” you said threateningly, kind of threateningly, making him smile.

and he kissed you again, much softer this time. it was to seal a sacred vow one would find harder to break than any else’s, an oath shared by two teenagers who are so genuinely, so tenderly, and so tragically in love with each other.

“how early are you leaving tomorrow?” you asked after pulling away, adjusting your legs so instead of sitting in a kneeling posture, they wrapped around his lower back, making it much more comfortable for you and giving you two more space to be closer to each other.

“hmm, since we have to take the bus to the train station and we are meeting up at the bus stop around the school before going there together…” he calculated in his head, a pout forming on his lips due to the concentration. “i think i’ll have to leave around seven in the morning.”

that was earlier than you thought. but either way, you never planned to see him off anyway. turning into a crying mess in public early in the morning would not be a plan; if you could, you would rather let him leave just as things are—a soft goodbye to your sleeping form, and maybe you will sob on his bed for a while after you wake up.

“i am not going to the train station with you,” you said, running your hands through his hair before circling your arms around his neck into a hug. you sighed. “so it is just going to be tonight.”

“okay.” seungmin flashed you a faint smile, a bittersweet but endearing one. his pinky gently tucked at a piece of your hair, his fingers brushing back against your temple and falling to your ear. “do you need anything from me before I go?”

“you should be the one getting something from me. i never gave you a congratulatory gift for getting through your audition,” you said with a laugh, tapping his nose with your index finger and pressing your chest up against his for a needed closeness. “i am very proud of you, seungmin.”

he gave you a peck. “thank you.”

and you two just looked at each other. affectionately drawn towards the other like how north sticks to south. you couldn’t help but whisper a loving confession, brushing his hair as the words “i love you” left your lips like a secret only seungmin gets to hear.

“i love you too,” he returned immediately, his eyes shutting for a brief moment to allow the rush of euphoria. then they flutter open so he could look at you and ask, “are you sure you don’t want anything from me?”

you thought for a moment, your brows furrowing in thoughts. there were not many things you wanted to ask from him, most of those you do were out of his ability to accomplish, such as not leaving you here.

“call me when you get there,” you reminded him.

“of course,” he hummed. “what else?”

you sighed, keeping your eyes on him as it hit you that there really wasn’t anything else you needed from him. you just needed him, and you had him the moment you stepped into his room, so you figured you should get the most and the best out of it.

seungmin could see where your eyes were and believe it or not, he was totally on the same page. it was not the type of nights he wanted to spend with words. there were only senses and feelings that he wanted to have threaded through his veins this night, be it loud or quiet, tender or rough, or perhaps both of each opposite.

you leaned in, your eyes moving up from his lips to look into the windows of his brilliant soul. “stay with me,” you breathed into his mouth, “until you leave me.”

seungmin wasted no time to claim your lips once more, rough exhales fanning against your face as he desperately kissed you to fulfill the insatiable desire he held for you. he could feel it in his guts—the cunning and greedy burn beneath his ribs that held so much he wanted to say to you, that the words of his inadequate language were unable to express enough, were threatening to explode from the brisk of his skin. 

in all that the world could offer, languages of all places and phrases of all great minds, the only word he knew were you, you, you. and he wasn’t even able to speak it. all he could show you of how he called out to you was through his action; the tug of his hands at your waist and the bite of his teeth at your lower lip.

you squeezed his shoulders, your eyes closing upon the familiar taste of his mouth on your tongue when he boldly slipped past your gently parted lips. the softness that once graced seungmin’s being was long gone. he was hasty now, needy and desperate for all of you, and all you could do was comply with him. 

your chest heaved with a low moan when he bit your lip again, his hand pressing you down against his abdomen. your body relaxed against his with a shiver, yet your thighs squished at his sides upon the ever-growing arousal under your waist when you felt him, vividly, against you.

“min–“ you pulled away, looking into his eyes with all vulnerability you have ever left hanging at the lashes of your eyes. you looked at him, your hands running up the side of his face and spreading within his hair, and your shaky gaze scanned his entire face as if your patience was running thin. 

he beat you to begging for the intimacy, his face leaning close toward yours just to feel the bone of your nose nudging against his own. there was something about his utter lack of ability to be away from you at this moment. 

he was not physically attached to you, but there was nothing else he wanted more of the world than to be so. he would do anything; he would tear down hell and break through heaven, he would destroy the sun and shoot down the stars if it meant to keep you beautifully by his side. 

he needed to be attached to you, the love of his life. 

“i need you,” he whispered, “please.” 

his breath was demanding, but also teasing in a way that he wanted to make this comfortable and loving for you, as opposed to the upsetting farewell you two were having.

you shivered, your half-lidded eyes staring at each shadow that cast over his face in his dim room. your hands dropped from his hair, causing a faint look of disappointment in his eyes, but that was gone as quickly as it came when he realized that you were reaching for the hem of his blue hoodie. 

you tugged at the soft fabric, making sure you brought your shirt along with it when you slowly slid them up your body and finally over your head.

the first thing his eyes gravitated toward was your chest, covered by a random bra you threw on because you did not anticipate the visit to turn out like this. he watched with an itchy hand and an unbreathable throat when your hand reached behind your back to unhook your bra. you slid it off your shoulders, showing him your breasts, and you tried to hide your shyness by looking away as you discarded your bra somewhere on the floor. 

seungmin’s eyes were glued to your chest, he wasn’t even trying to hide it. you almost wanted to laugh at the hanging of his jaw and the way he was blatantly staring at your close to naked chest, but you kept the amusement to yourself and went ahead to cup the side of his face, bringing his attention back to your face.

you smiled, but then you pursed your lips and begun to shrink into yourself when you realized this was the most naked you’ve ever been with a boy before. not to mention how unconfident you have always been with the way your body looked. the way his eyes were glued to your chest was starting to become a look of judgment rather than an action out of surprise and fondness. 

his eyes widened when you suddenly squealed, your head lowering and your forehead bumping against his shoulder. he laughed a little, his hands moving to your wrists before he gently pushed you away from you. you were frowning slightly, your brows furrowed with an uncertain pout on your face, and you refused to look at him until he tipped your chin up with your hand. 

he wasn’t too sure why you were acting this way, but what he did know was that this was your first time, as well as his. sex is a foreign subject. that kind of intimacy is drastically different than holding hands, or cuddling, or making out, or even having late-night philosophical talks until you fall asleep on the phone. 

both of you were feeling chilled to the bones with both anticipation and nervousness about how things could go, and both of you probably wanted everything to feel good and perfect.

so if you were hiding from him because you changed your mind, then he’d want you to know you could back out. he could deal with what happened in his pants by himself later.

“you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said, poking your nose, “we can just watch a movie, or we can talk until we fall asleep if you want.”

the pout on your face faded slightly upon his words; a kind offer, but one you didn’t need. you flashed him a deadpan smile, your hands moving to clamp atop of his shoulders again as you spoke, “it’s not that. i do want to do this with you, i don’t think there is anybody else in the world i’d want to do this with! it’s just… my… my boobs…”

his eyes drifted down at them and he looked back up at you. “they’re great.”

“they are.” you were doubtful. 

“they’re boobs, babe. any boobs are great–“

“seungmin.”

“okay, okay!” he nodded with a fit of a giggle, then he moved in to kiss your lips. his hands moved to roam your sides, brushing tenderly across your skin and creating a trail of goosebumps on his way. he kept kissing you as he spoke, a kiss every other word he let out. “they are great. your body, i love it because it’s yours, and i can’t believe i’m allowed to touch you like this right now.”

you blushed with a heat rushing up your cheeks, burning hotly under his words and the way he kept kissing you. how sweet and cheesy, but you didn’t mind it much. you were too drowned in being adored by him to care about criticizing anything he says or does, you just wanted this moment to keep going so you could finally plunge into the real act. 

keeping your hands at the nape of his neck, you moved your lips with his for a second longer before you moved away, making him whine with a low hum.

his hands stayed at your side as if they were afraid, and you were getting impatient. panting, your voice was raspy when you said, “you can touch me more.”

seungmin raised his brows at the permission. his heart sped up at the thought of going beyond your waist and your back. he was thinking about it, but each time he felt the side of his palm brush against the soft skin under your breasts, he flinched away with timidity simultaneously as he grew needier for your body. 

he couldn’t let himself just touch you, he supposed, it would be such a bold thing to do. he felt like if he ever did, he would have to find a way to preserve the feeling, and he was very unprepared for that.

“seungmin…” you called out in a feminine voice when he didn’t respond, one that sounded so needy it would surely get him riled up. your hands moved to grab his, bringing them up your body until they almost met at your breasts. “touch me.”

a tease, what a tease. it was only your first time and you were being a tease, looking so divine and perfect on top of his lap you tested his composure and his control over his patience. 

he exhaled.

you asked for it.

seungmin took you by complete surprise when he moved. hoisting you off his lap, you felt yourself dip sideways before your back met the soft cover of his bed. he hovered over you, his body stuck between your spread legs, and his hands squeezed your waist to set you in place before he reached down to capture your lips again. you followed his lead, feeling his hand roam across your stomach before they finally moved up to your breasts. 

a breath got caught in your throat when he cupped his hands over the roundness. he fondled them, squeezing and pressing his palm against them just to feel your hardened nipples against him. he hummed out in satisfaction when you trembled under his touch, unfamiliar but pleasing, and he let go of your mouth to hear your noises while he moved down your jaw and your neck to leave trails of love marks on your skin as a goodbye gift.

you tilted your head to the side so he has more space to plant his bruises. you could feel his teeth graze you, and he was sucking on your skin so hard you felt pressure within the spot. it was forcing you to make friends with the reality and the level of intimacy you two were venturing into. 

he was on top of you, kissing you, dropping crosses on your body, fondling your breasts, and his hips occasionally grinding at your bottom so he could temporarily press down the impulsivity inside his pants. 

this was the reality; you two were about to become whole, you want you both to become whole.

seungmin moved away in the heat of the moment, his hands hastily reaching to pull his shirt off his body as well before he dove back to your collarbones and went down, his lips worshipping the veins and bones hidden under your skin. he took your breast in his mouth, sucking on your nipple and flicking the bud with his tongue. you arched your back at the sensation, so foreign yet exciting that you couldn’t help but push down on his head with the same hand that once carded gently through his hair, wanting more and more of him.

he was never going to leave you, though. his lips stayed attached to your body, kissing you down and everywhere he could reach, his tongue darting out the lick wet spots on your delicacy. it was until he reached the hem of your shorts when he paused—this was the place. he eyed up at you, catching the weak and pleading look in your eyes once, then he gingerly moved his fingers to unbutton and unzip your shorts. he carefully slid it off your hips, his fingers tugging against your panties on the way until you were completely naked under him.

the last of your clothes dropped to the ground without a care. seungmin was glued to the glistening sight of your exposed heat. your curled your fists, nervous about what he was thinking as he stared at you. your legs felt shaky as you thought of whether you wanted to close your knees or not, and before you could make a decision for yourself, seungmin already stumbled forward on his knees and brought himself to the edge of his bed.

he grabbed your ankles, his grip soft as he brought your legs over his shoulders with a nod of his head. you let him guide you through the ordeal—resting your ankles on his shoulders and pulling you forward to him. he curled his hands around your thighs when you were close enough.

you flinched, a quick and shivering flinch, when you felt his lips against your cunt. your knees almost smashed his head if he hadn’t tightened his grip on your thighs to keep you from moving. your eyes stayed wide open, staring dizzily at the ceiling, as seungmin continued to do experimental kisses against your wet pussy. one, two, three, four, before he decided it was time for him to dart his tongue out. 

he flicked against your clit, miraculously finding it on his first try and staying there when he saw your positive reaction. he abused it, licking and sucking on the bundle of nerves until your bud was protruding and  even a little painful from all the stimulation. but he didn’t let himself stop there. the lovely and filthy noises you were letting out, paired with the call of his name over and over again, was too much of a blessing for him to let up. 

he continued with his pleasuring, grazing his teeth against your skin as he sucked on you, his fingers making an entrance by slowly sliding himself inside your warm cunt. he didn’t want to do too much so he paid attention to your reaction. it was an ego boost each time you arch your back and moan his name. he has never been better than this.

your legs trembled on his shoulders, having never felt such sudden jolts before and your senses were not familiar with receiving such pleasure. your lips were parted to let out huffs of little whimpers and moans as you relish in the feeling of his touch—a brand-new feeling of joy seungmin was graciously gifting you that was unlike all the others. 

you were being touched, you felt touched, and he was willing to do so even when you weren’t sure if you deserved it. such simple ways to make you happy; all he needed was himself, and the lovingness in all of his movements done to your sensitive body. 

“fuck–seungmin, seungmin!” 

you tried to find words to say in the midst of the pumping of his fingers. your walls were clenching down on the intrusion, coating his fingers with your slickness until it became a slip-and-slide to go in and out of you. you were wet, oh so very wet, and it was all his doing. he could taste your arousal on his tongue and he kept wanting more, so he moved quicker with his hand as if he could fuck more juices out of you with it. your legs bent, hitting his shoulder blades, and you moved your hand down to his head where you tugged at his hair.

“seungmin! you–i’m going to–“ you whimpered out, seeing fading stars in your eyes, “please fuck me, fuck me first!”

he stopped, the manic look in his eyes fading at your words. pulling his fingers out of you, the stickiness not bothering him, he stood up and moved onto the bed and left you cold with an approaching orgasm that would soon fade. he wasn’t much thinking about that—he was still thinking about that, but there was something else he needed to make sure first: did you ask him to stop because you wanted to cum with him inside you? did you want to orgasm from him fucking you with his cock? was that what you wanted, that’s why you made him stop?

oh, but the thought alone… the thought of you orgasming because of him, the thought of you reaching that  ultimate pleasure because of him. it would surely be an honor to behold.

he leaned down to your face, his eyes genuine and also somewhat worried as looked at you. taking his clean hand, he brushed the hair out of your sweaty forehead and kissed your eyes. “what do you want?”

you exhaled, your hands awkward so they settled against his warm chest. looking up at him with round and wide eyes, you asked politely, “can you fuck me, seungmin?”

“i was,” he hummed, his other hand casually reaching back down to your heat. 

the confidence came when he realized his ability to please you, and he decided he could set his needs aside and toy with you for some reactions he would savor in his head for the rest of his life. he pressed the tip of his fingers against your hole, dipping in but not letting your feel full by inserting. 

he played with you, watching as you squirm with a needy expression when he wouldn’t give you what you want, feeling as you bucked your hips up for his hand and asked for him to touch you, and finally when you exhaled in relief as he finally moved his fingers inside your pussy.

“i was fucking you, (name), with my mouth,” he said. “i am fucking you right now.”

oh, but it wasn’t his tongue and his fingers that you wanted the most. he knew that. you knew he knew that as well. he was good with them, it was heavenly a moment ago when he was kneeling on the floor, but nothing could beat the excitement in your chest that was waiting for when he finally stretches you out and officially takes your virginity by colliding his body with yours. you wanted it, both the pain and the pleasure that would follow. 

you wanted to be around seungmin and make him feel good as well, and most importantly, you wanted your first orgasm to be when you were near him, the love of your life. you wanted to cum feeling him inside you.

“i want your–“ you shut your mouth in defeat, looking at him with a pout as if that would soften him up. 

seungmin smiled at your adorableness, but he as he dragged the back of his finger down your face, his other hand still pumping in and out of your cunt but his pace has since slowed down, all he asked was, “you want my what?”

“you’re pushing it,” you mumbled as you gave him a deadpan look, “i even acted cute for you.”

pulling out of your heat, he grinned with a roll of his eyes. then he shook his shoulders as if throwing a tantrum, his lips puckering slightly as he playfully hit his fist against your chest. “just say it once! i want to hear you say it!”

“seungmin, i’m shy!” you complained, shoving him lightly.

“you weren’t so shy when you were moaning like a minute ago!” 

“seungmin!”

“just ask me, just say you want my dick and i’ll give it to you, i promise,” he said, knowing well he would have given it to you regardless of you asking or not.

you huffed, the corner of your lips quirking downward as you glared at him before you mumbled, “i want your cock.”

“what?”

“i want your cock, seungmin,” you pleaded louder this time, looking impatient and annoyed with your furrowed brows and the stuttering movement of your shoulders.

“good girl.” he smiled and pinched your cheek. “see? that wasn’t so hard.”

you took your time with grumbling a complaint about his action. but, however you wanted to see it, he did make you feel more at ease with having sex for the first time. the playful way he talked to you just a minute ago made it feel as if this was just any ordinary activity, and there was nothing you needed to be afraid of. it was just you and him together, and he would take care of you like he always has. you would be fine with him. 

the thought diminished for a quick second, though, when you saw that he has taken off his pants and boxers. your opened your mouth, your eyes couldn’t help but stare at his hardened shaft, and all you could do the next second was turn away with an uncontrolled laugh bubbling out your throat. 

seungmin looked up slightly at the noise, trying to recognize it, and when he realized you were laughing, he immediately snapped his head to you with a look of utter disbelief.

“are you laughing?” he asked, accusingly if you listened carefully.

you shook your head, your hand failing to cover up the giggles of your throat. “no, i’m not–not specifically at you, i swear!”

he moved over to you, his elbows supporting his upper body as he grabbed your face and made you look at him. he squished your cheeks together as you continued to laugh, your eyes turning intensely into little moons when you saw the hilarious look on his face. he looked you then, the sight of your lips quirking up into such a bright smile was something he took a mental image of. and your giggles trailed into his ears, hammering against the empty space in his head looking for a permanent home. he let the sound of you in with only a single knock. 

seungmin softened, allowing him a smile as well. looking at you now, feeling you warm and safe against him now, almost made him want to abandon his dream and just stay here with you forever. how could he leave you—his girl, his favorite person, his best friend. he wanted to be with you all the time. 

but he somehow knew you wouldn’t agree to that, you would push him to chase after his goal, so he will. he will miss this when he leaves. the sound of your laughter, the way he could make you snort and scream and make the prettiest and ugliest expressions. 

he will miss everything about you during every waking second of his days without you near him, but even time would fail to take him away from you because he would love you through every second of it until he could see you again.

pressing his forehead against yours, he giggled with you. “what are you laughing at, (name)?”

“nothing! i promise!” you replied loudly, then you settled down with a quiet hum in your chest. you reached up for his hands, smiling at him. “i love you.”

“i love you as well,” he said, moving his nose against yours as his voice came out in a fearsome whisper, “please say you want me again.”

your eyes relaxed into a scratch of affection. they moved across his face, taking him in, soaking his feature in you, and you kissed his mouth to speak it into him, “i want you, kim seungmin.”

it was a risk when he pushed himself inside you, raw and bare, but it was a risk you thought you ought to take at this age, and a risk you knew you wouldn’t have regretted taking. he went in slow, his lips moving across your face to soothe out the pained creases while you clutched his arm tightly upon the burn of the stretch. he was bigger than you thought, it felt different, bigger, than when you looked at it. 

he kissed you when he moved, hoping to get you to adjust to his size and to get himself more acquainted with the warmth of your walls around him. you didn’t mind the slowness of his thrusts, they were soft and undemanding, they were solid and memorable. you could feel every inch of him sliding within, the slickness of your walls helping him move easier amongst the tightness. your bodies collided again and again with hot exhales fanning against your faces as both of you tried not to go crazy for the feeling of each other. 

seungmin kept his hands moving around your body. the map he could never forget; he would always come back to this place in his memories, in the dead of the night when he felt alone. the juncture between your bones, your delicate skin, and your warmth that covered his entirety so perfectly as you sucked him into your body, taking him so well he thought there was no place else he could be. 

he only moved faster upon your request. he rutted against you, trying so hard not to get lost in the euphoric sensation that he would begin snapping his hips against yours at a pace that could bring him to the edge even quicker. he needed to relish at this moment where the sensuality happens, and he wanted to feel all of you here alone. but while knowing he wouldn’t go faster, he did want to go deeper into you.

he kissed your lips, swallowing your moans, as he gently hiked your leg up to his back until it rested near his shoulder. he gave you a sharp pound and you let out a choked noise at the heart-pounding feeling it gave you. he inhaled, moving his cock harsh against it and pushing toward that inner part of your cunt again to get another immediate reaction out of you. 

your eyes rolled up this time, your jaw dropping with a loud whine that you thought his parents would have heard in their bedroom, but you were unable to bring yourself to think at all, you just wanted more.

seungmin smiled. that was the spot. that was the spot he was looking for. 

“is that okay?” he huffed out, thrusting into you, “did you like that?”

“ah–yes, seungmin,” you breathed out, your back arching as the same spot got hit over and over again, waves and waves of pleasure lapping at your veins. you nodded, your hands clutching his arms with whines falling alive at your lips. “fuck, that feels really good.”

he smiled at your approval, feeling the tension at his back relax upon knowing that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. you were enjoying him as much as he was enjoying you. the reciprocation was delightful to acknowledge, especially in a moment as such where he wanted to leave an impression for you to remember by later if you so needed to. he knew he would because thinking about being so close to you would soon be the only escapism he has. 

the gentle yet filthy words he had begun whispering into your ears made you feel all tingly and edged. his words praised you, his words worshipped every move you made and every surface of your being, his words loved you as much as his body was loving you. 

they made you shiver by embracing your little soul, unraveling you slowly by breaking down the walls of your assumed unworthiness, and they did not dump you to the ground to repair yourself. 

seungmin was here, the whole time, for you to reach out to.

he is always ready for you. even with the distance and limits that you were so very afraid of, he will always be ready for you.

sucking in a deep, teary breath, one that paired with a light whimper as you felt your high approaching with each thrust, you reached up for your boyfriend. you circled your arms around his neck, bringing him down to you so you could kiss him fervently. your leg fell off without his support but they clung over his waist to bring him closer with tightening of your muscles. 

seungmin’s hands laid flat to the side of your head upon your beckoning, caging you under him as he slotted his mouth longingly against yours, his brows furrowing at the passionate kiss.

“you’re my heart, min,” you confessed softly against his eyes, “i love you.”

he could feel the tears in your eyes but they weren’t falling just yet. he hoped they wouldn’t fall, he wouldn’t know what else he could do aside from kissing those tears away until he has to leave you tomorrow morning. giving you a nod, he rubbed the side of your face with his thumb and smiled endearingly down at your face. “wait for me, okay?”

wait for him, and he will dream, always, about your eyes when you laugh, the way you shove him when he tells a lame joke, and the mediocre food you cook for him during weekend hangouts. he will dream  about coming back to your side, about holding and kissing you again, about the intimacy he has carefully shifted into a precious spot of his head. 

wait for him to come home so he could make all the dreams come true again.

you nodded hastily, partly because your walls had started to clench on his shaft impossibly upon the tightening of your abdomen. getting closer, seungmin snapped his hips against yours, trying to bring you over the edge and push you down for the ultimate rapture. he looked—stared—at you when your peak approached, a rush of warmth coating his skin as you came around his hard cock, burying him in a blissfully hot place. 

your eyes rolled skyward, and he could feel your fingers tightening around his neck, your nails digging into his skin upon the overwhelming pleasure.

he moved, holding your hands through your orgasm, fucking the intensity out slowly and settling you down. he watched as you breathed, waiting for your panting to come to a halt before he picked up his speed again so he could find his own climax. you held him close to you, feeling him hard inside you and giving out light moans upon the feeling of strange friction against your walls. 

you could tell when he was getting close, considering his movement become even more stuttered and erratic when he was about to lose himself in you.

he knew better than to cum in you, though. before he could reach his high, he pulled out of you and moved away slightly, his hand going down to pump at his length instead. you blinked—right, you forgot, you two did not use protection. the whiny sounds coming out of seungmin’s mouth helped you come back to your senses and you quickly sat up. 

you replaced his hand with yours, an amused gleam evident in your eyes when he stared at you with confusion while being pushed down on the bed by your hand.

you leaned your body down, pumping him to keep him aroused while you found a comfortable position to lay on, and without a second thought, you took him in your mouth. he hissed in surprise, his thighs flexing at the lukewarm sensation of your mouth around his cock, as well as the gentle suction of your inner-cheeks. he pressed his head against the pillow, his mouth hung ajar with whimsical huffs as he buried his hand on your hair, needing something to grab onto as you sucked him off.

the way his cock disappears into your mouth, his tip poking at your cheek with each bob of your head, and how you choked around him when his tip hit the back of your throat was a bliss all too intense for him to handle at once. what was he to do—he knew he could not hold on much longer. 

he has never felt his way before, his own hand was inadequate to provide the satisfaction you were giving him. the licks of your tongue, the graze of your teeth, the wrap of your lips; nothing could compare to this, he was drowning in abandonment and this was no false heaven.

his hip bucked into your mouth when he emptied himself in it, a loud groan leaving his lips. you let out a strangled noise of surprise when the bitter taste hit your throat, your eyes widening in dismay but you made yourself take all of him. you sucked all the way back up to his tip, your lips popping off with an audible noise, then you reached up to wipe away the saliva away. you panted, his cum slowly dripping down your throat, and you smiled at him when he looked at you.

“that was…” he licked his lower lip for a second, then he decided against talking and instead raised his arms to beckon you closer to him. “come here.”

you moved over to him, your body slumping down next to his as he brought you into his arms. your lips locked for the millionth times tonight, unable to get enough of each other when each time there was a new taste to the kiss you shared. 

“that was my first time,” you commented after pulling away, laying your head on his arm.

“so was mine,” he said, even though you knew.

you sighed then, a blissful sigh. “i’m glad it was with you.”

“so am i,” he whispered against your temple, and when he felt that you wanted to make a joke out of his words, he held you tighter against him and he scoffed. “you know what i mean.”

you giggled, “i do… i just want to make fun of you while i still can.”

“i can’t believe i am about to say this but,” he paused for dramatic effect, “you can make fun of me whenever you want to.”

“you’re right!” you exclaimed, turning on your side so you could look at him. “after you debut, if i catch you doing anything embarrassing on variety shows, i hope you know i will never let you live it down.”

“hey, that’s not fair,” he whined. “one of the main elements in variety shows is to embarrass their guest.”

“yeah, that’s why they can be so unfunny sometimes,” you muttered.

he laughed along with you. that was all he could do; talk about the future as if it wouldn’t be painful, talk about it in light-hearted ways until you could surely let it go.

he caressed your cheek with his thumb, his eyes unable to leave your face. “i’ll come back to you. i don’t know how long you will have to wait, but i promise i’ll find the time.”

“text me a lot?” you asked. he nodded. 

“and call me, it doesn’t have to be face time but call me,” you asked. he nodded.

“don’t fall in love with other people,” you asked.

“i won’t,” he answered this time.

and there was nothing more you needed from him. 

you sighed, snuggling closer to his warm body so you could breathe with your head on his chest. even though you might wake up finding yourself alone in his room and your head on a pillow, the hollowness stronger than ever, you still moved closer to him. falling asleep to his heartbeat was worth waking up to his ghost.

“then just stay with me now.”

stay with me until you leave me.

seungmin can do that.

[yunopouts]

stars on the beach - k. doyoung

-> kim doyoung x reader

-> era: punch!

-> genre: crack, smut (barely)

-> w: smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, mentions of eating, swearing, mentions of shitting (SORRY I FELT THE NEED TO MENTION THIS) tell me if i've missed anything

-> taglist: @doieclayed @foreverdy @neomulucased @ncteaxhoe

-> network: @nct-frathouse

-> a/n: here's a shitty blurb that i speed wrote. it's not detailed- definitely is actually very shitty i don't know what happened lmao

Your head rolled back as he kissed down your neck, enjoying the way his hands acted as if your body was the most brittle thing on earth- one sliding down your side while his right hand focused on your chest. His thumb grazed your nipple, making you moan loudly.

“Like that?” he asked, thumb now pressing down on the bud. He let out an arrogant laugh at your whine, enjoying the torture he was putting you through. You gasped when he took your nipple in between his teeth, tongue poking at the tip before sucking on it whole.

“I want you inside.” your voice was strained when it came out.

“If you promise to scream my name so loud we get a complaint, then you’ve got yourself a deal.” His voice was velvet smooth, like the devil. “Can you do that, beautiful?” You nodded eagerly, badly needing him. “Good.” he chuckled, giving you a closed-mouth smile, blinking once at you before feeling your core. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

As you were about to respond a vibrating noise came from your right, you both looked to the side table- where it was coming from. The man without a name looked back to you, his face now obscuring that you had been interrupted.

He opened his mouth to speak again but his voice was fading out and instead you heard a bang.

Snapping your eyes open at the sound of something hitting the floor, you sat up and looked around your room, searching for what had fallen. They were drawn to the phone that was vibrating on your carpet.

“What do you want, Mark?” You asked, picking up the call.

“Well hello to you too.” He chuckled

“You woke me up.” You grumbled. “Why are you even calling me at this ungodly hour?”

“Y/n, it's three thirty in the afternoon. You’re supposed to be here.”

“Where am I supposed to be? Need I remind you that it’s Saturday?”

“Need I remind you that you’re supposed to be at the house because you’re sleeping over?”

“Crap.” You cursed, scrambling to get out of bed.

“Watch your potty mouth, missy.” You could hear the stupid smirk he was wearing in that moment.

“Shut it, shit face.” You huffed. “I’ll see you in twenty.”

“That’s more like it. Bring your shit for tonight.”

“Watch your potty-” he cut you off as he hung up. You groaned, stalking over to the bathroom, you slumped down onto the counter, resting your head on your arms.

A vibration shot up your leg as someone sent you a text. You pulled your phone out of your pocket to check the notification— it was a text from mark.

-

lee [15:40] get off your counter and get ready, you turd.

you [15:41] tell the boys to clean the bathrooms or else i’ll give all of them swirlies after someone takes a dump

lee [15:42] we already did. and it won't be me getting a swirly cause i cleaned mine

you [15:43] tell hyuck to clean it again

lee [15:44] okay mom

you [15:45] don’t ever call me mom again unless you want me to shit on your pillow

read 15:45 pm

-

After getting ready you grabbed your duffle bag and ran to the front of your apartment, slipping on your shoes and speeding out the door. You were about to jog down the street all the way to the boys house, but stopped when there was a honk behind you.

You were about to tell them off when someone called your name, making you freeze in your tracks.

The voice from your dream.

“What are you doing? Get your ass in the car!” Mark yelled.

Slowly turning on your heel, you moved as slow as a turtle, not even daring to raise your gaze any higher— because if you did, you would be looking straight at the voice from your wet dream just an hour before.

“Hi Y/n,” the familiar velvety smooth voice cooed from the front seat.

“Hey.” you gulped, staring into the capturing eyes of the one person you were dreading to see.

Kim Doyoung.

-

“Oh fuck, my ass hurts.” Johnny groaned as he stretched his long limbs once he stepped out of his car after three hours of driving.

“Comere’ lemme massage it.” Jaehyun held out his hands, to which Johnny jokingly backed up, making Doyoung snort before he walked to the front door of the beach house.

You and Mark hopped out of the back after Jaehyun, and popped the trunk.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mark asked as the two of you unloaded the bags from the trunk of Johnny’s jeep. “You were silent the whole ride, what happened to you?”

“I had a sex dream…” you mumbled, yanking a bag out and swinging it over your shoulder.

“Okay, why would that impact-”

“About Doyoung.” the blond's eyes almost popped out of his head.

“You had a wet dream about- ow!” he winced, rubbing his arm after you punched it. “You had a wet dream about Doyoung?” Mark hissed. “What the fuck?”

“I know.” you whined, also confused as to why you had a lewd dream of Mark’s friend. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” Your head fell back in annoyance.

“What’s wrong?” A deep voice appeared beside you, making you flinch… hard. “Jeez, are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, steadying you out with both his hands on your biceps.

“She had a sensual dream about Doyoung.” Mark explained to the older boy and he gasped, eyes glowing.

“You’re so nasty.” He shimmied his shoulders, feigning a flirtatious tone. You rolled your eyes and groaned loudly.

“Would you guys please-”

“Who had a sensual dream about me?” Once again, you flinched, this time almost falling backwards after stepping on Mark’s foot— who was now yelling in pain.

“Mark did. He said he had a dream and he walked in on you rubbing one off.” Jaehyun lied straight through his teeth, but the man believed it, scrunching his nose.

“Oh, I thought you were talking about Y/n.” Jaehyun wheezed at the comment, nudging you in the ribs. Shooting him a look as you joined in, laughing awkwardly.

“Mark you dirty pig.” He sent you a glare before stabbing you with his own comeback.

“Well at least I didn’t have sex with my ex and moan Jaehyun’s name.”

“You did what?” The 97 liner looked down at you with an incredulous smirk before you turned to Mark, kissing your teeth.

“Shit.” The golden haired boy sprinted and you chased after him, Jaehyun following and taunting you from behind- leaving Doyoung standing alone, confused and surrounded by their luggages.

-

“Okay,” Taeyong clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “We need to figure out who is sleeping with who, and where. There are five bedrooms, so we can split equally.”

“Thank god.” Haechan mumbled. He had arrived earlier, along with Jungwoo, Yuta, Taeyong and Taeil, but they decided to wait for you to come to figure this out in a fair way. “I call Taeil!” He shouted, almost jumping out of his seat.

“I wanted Taeil.” Mark whined as he watched the younger boy sit in the eldests lap, wrapping his arms around his neck before sticking his tongue out at Mark.

“I’ll take Mark since y/n will kill him if she’s alone with him.” Yuta suggested, raising a hand.

“I can be with Taeyong;” Johnny hollered from the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

“Woo.” Jaehyun patted the knees of the boy who was sitting in his lap.

“Okay so that leaves Doyoung and Y/n.” Mark and Jaehyun both looked at you as if they knew something, because they did. “Y/n are you cool with that

“Y-yeah sure; it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Cause I can just sleep on the couch.” Doyoung stepped in, to which you shook your head.

“No, no it’s really fine. I bet you Doyoung is a better roommate than all of you.” You stuck out your tongue at the others who were gasping dramatically. “Except for Taeil;” The eldest let out a teasing laugh before someone began speaking again.

“They get the master bedroom.” Jaehyun added and you froze, catching his and Mark’s growing smile.

“Did say masterb-”

“Master room;” Doyoung muttered in your ear. You nodded slowly as tingles went down your spine, sitting back against the couch with a soft ‘oh’ leaving your lips. “Thanks man,” you missed the wink he sent the plotting pair.

“Anything to spare ourselves from her cursing us for taking the comfortable bed.” Hyuck said.

“You know, you guys make me out to be some scary monster that will bite your head off.”

“You bit my arm when I took the last Nanaimo bar!” Mark argued.

“Because I said I didn’t have one! How do you bring someone, who’s never been there, to B.C and not let them try an authentic desert?” You fought back.

“That’s kind of cruel, Mark.” Jungwoo mumbled, the others agreeing with him.

“We were in Coquitlam for another three days, you could have gone to Nanaimo on your own!”

“You were going to let a foreigner travel two and a half hours by herself?” Doyoung’s voice raised as the rest of the boys began to scold him too.

“Shameful.” Taeyong shook his head. Mark got up with a huff and began stomping away. “Get back here you dimwit, we didn’t decide the rooms.”

“I’m gonna go unpack.” Doyoung followed Mark in standing up. “Wanna come?” He asked, holding out a hand.

“Sure.” You took it and the older boy helped you up, leading you to the second floor.

-

Only when you let go to sit on the bed did you realize that you were still holding on to Doyoungs hand when you reached the room. It was nice, had eggshell coloured walls— very much like a beach house. The bed was nice too, white sheets on a king size mattress that sat on a rustic looking post bed. Everything in the room was the same eggshell colour as the walls, and the handles and knobs matched the metal posts of the bed frame.

“Which side do you normally sleep on?” Doyoung asked as he unloaded some of his clothes into a drawer, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I’m fine with any side.” you replied, hands running over the cool comforter.

“You sure you’re okay with sharing?” The boy turned to look at you, finding you with your back flat against the bed.

“We’re both adults.” Was all you said before he turned back, organizing his shirts as he let out a soft chuckle.

“Is it okay if I sleep on the right side, then?”

“Of course.”

“Cool, thank you.”

“No problem, Doyoung.”

You were about to start a different conversation to make yourself feel a bit more comfortable when Johnny appeared at your door.

“Beach in twenty?”

“It’s seven.” Doyoung stopped his movements and looked at the older boy.

“We’re going to a beach party.”

“Alcohol?” You strained your neck when peeked up at the older boy when he said ‘party’. Johnny laughed, nodding in response to your question.

“I’m a little tired from the drive, so I’m gonna pass.” Johnny nodded and left the room. Doyoung made his way to the bed, latching himself onto a bedpost. “Do you want me to get out?” you shook your head.

“I’m just gonna wear this.” the both of you laughed lightly. “You really not gonna go?” propping yourself up on your elbows, you cocked your head to the side. He pushed up the clear-frame glasses that sat perched on that perfect nose of his, smiling down softly at you.

“Nah, I think I’m just going to chill; I kinda wanna take a nap.” You hummed gratefully when he helped you up again.

Doyoung accidentally pulled you with too much force, forcing you to come crashing into his chest. He grunted as you stumbled back, the boy's arms wrapping around your waist. He was warm and he smelt like an enchanting fabric softener. You stayed that way for a few extra seconds, Doyoung wanting to stay in your grip, and you in his- but it all came to an end when a phone vibrated on the dresser.

You jolted back and picked up the phone, reading the message. “I-I’m gonna go.”

“Y-yeah, yeah. Um… have fun.”

“You too.” you replied awkwardly, practically running out the door.

-

“So, you have a boyfriend?” a random guy next to you raised a brow as he slurred his words.

“No,”

“Do you wanna-” “No, I don’t want to fuck you.” rolling your eyes, you turned on your heel and walked away, towards the group of boys that were on top of each other.

“Y/N!!!!” Haechan raised his hands in the air, spilling his tequila shot on Taeyongs head. “Oh whoops.” he sniggered.

“How’s your grinding going?” you asked, staring at the group of drunken friends- only one, Jungwoo, was completely sober.

“Only Jaehyun and Johnny have gotten somewhere.” Mark, who’s cheeks were a dark red, was pouting.

“As expected.” you sighed, sipping from your beer bottle. “Oh fuck, it’s already two.” you cursed, checking your phone before sliding it in your back pocket again. “I’m gonna go; don’t really want to be hit on by anyone anymore.”

They wished you farewell before you began your short journey back to the house. When you got to the front door, you kicked off your flip flops and entered. Quietly but quickly, you made it up the stairs and opened the door. You did a double take before your eyes zeroed in on the sight in front of you.

There you saw Doyoung, laying on the bed half naked, with his cock in hand, moaning your name. It would be a lie if you said it wasn’t hot- because it most definitely was, your heart might have even skipped a beat.

What are you, a pervert? You scolded yourself and tried to shut the door as discreetly as possible but he called your name again, this time, not in a moan- but in a calm manner.

“Stay.” his voice was raspy before it turned into a soft moan. Locking the room once you entered, you kept your back pressed to the cool wood of the door. “Come.” he ordered and like a trained dog, you obeyed, slowly making your way to the bed.

“Can I…” the words came out as a whisper, but he still heard and agreed.

His hand ghosted over yours, letting you take hold of his member, whimpering at your cold touch. You began by grazing your thumb over the slick slit, pressing down just enough for him to pinch your thigh in annoyance. Smiling, you began to work your wrist, moving your hand in swift motions so good it made Doyoung’s thighs shake.

“Fuck,” his noises left his mouth breathlessly as he bucked his hips into your fist. “Hmm, wait, stop.” you paused, body going still. “Strip, I wanna fuck you.”

You gasped at his words, but removed your clothing with his help. Doyoung held your waist as you mounted him with your knees on either side of his own torso. “Slowly;” he mumbled, bringing you down on his dick.

“Doyoung,” you sighed while he leaned forward to place his lips on yours. They were soft and supple, everything you’ve ever wanted in a pair of lips that had the job of kissing you. Once he bottomed out and made sure you were comfortable, Doyoung held your ass to guide you in moving up and down, all the while he pulled you in close so that his mouth could reach your nipple. Taking the bud in his mouth, his soft tongue grazed over it softly before sucking and pulling on it. Even though it was the simplest of actions, you were being so vocal- and Doyoung loved that. Your whines only egged him on, pushing you further, forcing you to cry out louder.

As your hips rolled with his, Doyoung became harsher with his thrusts, handling you like you were a toy- like you were as light as a feather.

“Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve dreamt of this moment.” he panted out as his cock hit a new length. “I’m pretty sure you have too, if I’m not mistaken.”

You couldn’t say a word, when you tried to, only a grunt of pleasure left you- making the boy under you chuckle. Almost screaming when his thumb reached your clit, rubbing intensely on the nub, like it was a mission of his, like his life depended on it. “Fuck, Doyoung… fuck, Doy-”

“Close?” he asked. He took you letting out a long whine as a hint and started thrusting faster and harder. “Don’t be shy baby,” he tugged you closer by his grip on the back of your neck. “Cum for me.” he whispered in your ear.

When your eyes rolled back, you saw stars; stars one the ceiling, stars on the beach, stars in his eyes- everywhere, there were stars everywhere.

When he felt his cock twitch, he stopped moving you- even though you were at the very end of your high. You watched for yourself- what Doyoung looks like when he comes, and you can now proudly say that it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. With his lips slightly parted, head tilted back against the wall and fingers digging into your sides, he let go, ropes of white painting your walls.

A few minutes later, once you were clean and laying beside him, you mumbled to Doyoung, “You knew?” cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Of course I knew, Mark would’ve acted the exact same way you did if he had a wet dream of me.” that didn’t make you feel better. “But, I also had one… of you.” he made sure to say.

“Was it good?”

“It was good, but not as good as this.” he smiled, pecking you softly on the lips.

[missvelvetsstuff]

Little Bird

Chapter 2

Bucky Barnes x OFC/reader

Enemies to ???

Warnings: swearing, a little sad, Wade Wilson

After Bucky stormed off and Steve ran after him the room was silent for a minute.

Tony sighed and ran his hand over his face. "You'll have to excuse the Manchurian Candidate. He's not good with change. Lucky for you it's not up to him. My building so I get the final say. You are welcome to stay as long as you like and potentially join the team, if you want of course.

Does anyone besides Barnes have a problem with Rika staying?" he looked around the table everyone was shaking their heads. "The ayes have it. Nat, why don't you set her up in the spare room by yours and take her shopping for some clothes when she's up for it"

"Will do, Tony. C'mon Rika, let's get you a room"

Rika looked nervous "I really can't ask you to do all that. I don't even know if I will stay"

Tony shook his head, "you didn't ask, I offered and even if you leave you will need some clothes and a little pocket money. It's not a problem, I can spare it."

"I don't know what to say." Rika responded softly.

"Thank you is plenty. Or you could name your firstborn after me" Tony smirked.

"Thank you, Tony. Thank you to all of you. I mean it."

Nat offered her hand "C'mon Rika. Let's go get you set up. Friday, can you add Rika to the system and set her up for room 42?"

"Of course, Agent Romanoff"

Rika jumped "Who was that?"

Friday responded "I'm the AI that helps Mr Stark keep his life in order"

Rika looked around in awe "wow. She's not going to evolve into Skynet is she?"

Nat chuckled "I hope not, we just have to be nice to her just in case.

Rika grinned "I guess I can do that to prevent planetwide destruction."

Nat showed Rika to her new room which was more like a suite with a living area, small kitchen and a full bath with the biggest tub Rika has ever seen. Plus a bedroom with a king size bed and huge tv's in the living area and bedroom

"It's set to your fingerprints so just place your thumb here to open it" Nat pointed to the pad next to the door.

"Now for the fun part. We take Tony's credit card and find some things to fill the room with. Do you mind if Wanda comes too? We can have a girls day, get you a haircut if you like. Massage. Lunch. Whatever we can do to make you feel more like yourself."

Rika "sounds good to me. I'm not much for a massage or manicure where a stranger is touching my skin. Sometimes it makes me feel like they will be able to tell something is weird about me. Haircuts are a no as well unless they know I'm a mutant because once my hair is cut it will revert back to its natural purple."

Nat nodded "If you stay we can help you work on your abilities and maybe find a way to fix that. One of us can at least trim your hair if you want since its past your waist"

The girls had a blast on their outing. First lunch where they saw Rika could eat like a supersoldier. After that they found some nice bedding and a few paintings for her room and one Def Leppard poster because Rika loves them. The band reminds her of simpler days before her dads rejection and Hydra. Then clothes shopping. Rika tried to keep it to a few essentials but the girls insisted on a full wardrobe including a couple of formal dresses in case Tony decided to throw a party to celebrate the new addition. They also insisted on a full set of luggage and a duffle bag for an emergency 'go bag'.

When they returned they could barely bring all her bags up even with Happy's help. They dropped everything off in her room and headed to the common room to see what was planned for dinner and found Sam working on some chicken and jambalaya which smelled heavenly. The girls helped with cleaning and setting the table for the whole team.

When the food was ready everyone sat down and dug in with the glaring absence of one Winter Soldier who came out 10 minutes later, saw Rika, growled and took a plate back to his room.

Steve tried to apologize "I'm really sorry, Bucky doesn't handle change well and apparently had some problems with a couple of mutants that were in Hydra when he was there."

Rika looked at him "You don't have to apologize for him, you're not his keeper. You'd think he would be more understanding since Hydra had me too but it's fine. I've dealt with worse, like my dad trying to skewer me." She shrugged.

After eating way more than she looked like she could handle Rika excused herself to get some rest. "Thank you all again for helping me out"

Tony spoke up "Almost forgot, here is a Starkphone. It has everyones number and can interact with Friday almost anywhere in the world. Further with a good signal boost, which I have provided. If you're ever in trouble it has a tracker as well." Rika's eyes got wide as she thanked him again.

The next day, after breakfast Nat offered to work on her hand to hand combat when Friday announced "Miss Rika, you appear to have some guests. Dr Hank McCoy and Wade Wilson. Should I let them up?"

Rika squealed "Yes, Please" and rushed to the elevator to greet them.

When the doors opened she saw a very annoyed Bucky Barnes who gave her a nasty look "Are these 'people' with you? We're going to be overrun soon"

Rika ignored him and was picked up by a man in a red suit who swung her around as he hugged her "WADE! I missed you. It's been ages"

He looked at her "and you haven't aged a day. Where did you go, kiddo? Wait, did you gain weight?"

A large blue, furry man pushed past Wade and hugged her. "What happened, you were supposed to keep in touch?" I've missed you"

Rika grinned as she hugged him back "Hydra happened. The Avengers found me on one of their bases a few days ago. They must have been watching the mansion because I wasn't far when they picked me up."

Hank looked at her with wide eyes "Rika, that was years ago. You were with them all this time?"

"Yeah, they were trying to replace the Winter Soldier after he escaped their control. They did to me what Stryker did to Logan. That's why I feel heavier" she replied.

Hank hugged her again "I'm so sorry. I've tried to talk to Logan about you a number of times but he won't budge." He sighed "I have to tell you something, is there somewhere we can go sit and talk?"

"What happened, Hank. Just tell me" Rika replied as they all sat in the common room.

Hank closed his eyes and she saw tears which made Rika tense up.

"Raven is dead. A student, with powerful telekinesis killed her, on accident. Her name was Jean Grey and her powers overwhelmed her and she killed herself not long after but I would have if she hadn't. I've been looking all over to find you since it happened last year."

"I'm sorry Hank, I know you loved her" Rika said softly as tears started falling.

He enveloped her in a hug "I've always loved her but she was your mom"

Rika shrugged, "she always felt like more of a much older sister who visits once in awhile."

Wade spoke up "Didn't Jean Grey cause all that drama in Central Park? I wonder why the Avengers weren't there. Or why the X-Men didn't show up when a norse God with an army of aliens attacked New York. Weird"

Hank looked at Wade and shook his head "Where were you, Wilson?"

"It's a long and boring story regarding publishing rights" Wade winked at Rika.

Tony finally speaks up "I'm sorry about your mom kid, that's rough. I have a question though. I get how you know Papa Smurf here but this guy" he points at Wade.

Rika grins "He was working with one of the X-Men and Piotr let him stay at the mansion for a bit. It was so strange because none of the other members of the team came out to meet him even tho he was there for a week. It's like they all hid when he was around"

Wade grinned "I know, like they were waiting to get paid before they would come out." Wade looks at the reader and winks.

Rika looks in the direction he was looking when he winked "Are you still pretending to talk an audience, Wade?"

Wade laughed "Yeah, pretending".

"So what else is new?" Rika asked her friends.

"Nessa is gone" Wade told her softly and explained what happened.

Rika hugged him "Oh, Wade. I'm so sorry. She was such a beautiful person"

He teared up "Yeah, I'll get back to her eventually."

It was getting close to lunch time and Tony ordered food for everyone. Again, after everyone sat down and started eating Bucky came out of his room to get food, glaring at Rika, Hank and Wade as he left.

Wade teased "Looks like you have an admirer here, girl"

Rika laughed "Hardly. That's Bucky Barnes the former Winter Soldier. He hates mutants. Says we're not trustworthy"

Hank looked offended "As opposed to brainwashed, centenarian, assassin, super soldiers? Wow, that's a bold claim. I wonder if he would say that to my face?"

Rika put a hand on Hanks arm "It's alright. Its not like I'm not used to this kind of reception when people find put the truth. At least he hasn't tried to kill me yet, like my dad"

"Wait" Wade says "Wolverine tried to kill you? I've been trying to make a movie with him forever but I always thought he was cool"

Rika looks confused "Make a movie? You are so silly, Wade. He might get along with you but he hates my mom and she shifted to look like someone else to get him to sleep with her. Some kind of fucked up celebrity crush. Since he couldn't get to her and I was right there he took it out on me. Lucky I inherited his healing powers. Like yours but born this way"

Wade smiles "Nice Gaga reference. She's BadAss. All I was born with is my rapier wit and ability to think outside the box or theatre, if you will. Used to have a pretty face but you know that story."

"Yeah, I remember. Speaking of, how are Weasel and Dopinder? Still annoying but funny?"

"You know it. In fact Dopinder is waiting for me downstairs so I should go but when I heard You were here I had to come visit."

"Who told you I was here? I haven't spoken to anyone outside of the compound."

"Oh, just the narrator" Wade said casually

"Is that one of your assassin friends?" Rika asked

"Sure, that's what we'll call her. Look try and stay out of trouble, Kid and keep in touch. Lemme see your phone so I can give you my number. Call me if you're in trouble or need anything. Like if that Barnes dude gives you any grief."

They hug again and Wade says goodbye to everyone "Nice meeting all of you. I have a feeling this won't be the last we see of each other."

Hank stood up. "I need to get back to the school. I'm so happy you are ok and if you stay here you'll be pretty close so we can get together. I'll let Charles know that you're ok. He searched for you with Cerebro but Hydra must have had you somewhere that was lined or deep underground or something because he couldn't find you at all. We thought you were dead. Raven was pretty broken up about it. She did bring in your half brother Kurt. I'll see if I can bring him next time but he's hard to hide in public."

Hank hugged Rika tight. "Here's my number. Make sure you stay in touch. Ok?"

Rika nodded "I will. Take care, Hank and give everyone except Logan my love. Or better yet, give him my love too. That'll piss him off."

Rika excused herself and went to her room to rest a bit. That was certainly an exciting and unexpected reunion.

@vicmc624 @nash-dara

[party-gilmore]

...well, I managed to get to literally JUST BARELY before the actual smut starts, so please enjoy this unbetaed 2k word teaser prologue of "demi/grayace Parker doesn't feel like she's Enough for Eliot without Hardison around, so he sets the record straight."

Set during The Hurricane Job, because who gives a damn if the ep is even OUT yet, am i right? XD

“Room 236.”

“What was that?” Eliot hums. His voice is muffled beneath the heavy, sopping weight of his jacket as he tugs the damn thing over his head. His shirt peels off right along with it, so he just shucks the whole shebang in the generic direction of his luggage. He’ll have plenty of time to see to it properly tomorrow - the storm will have them trapped at least another day. With a groan, he stretches out his bad shoulder. It’s not quite dislocated again, but it’s not quite right either. Two nimble hands sneak up from behind and flit their way over the shoulder blade, one bracing against the wet neck of his white tank top while the other presses swift and hard on the joint - and ‘pop’ goes the weasel.

Eliot flashes Parker a pained but soft smile through the old dresser mirror, but it falters when he catches her eyes peeking over his shoulder. There’s a look in them he isn’t familiar with, but doesn’t think he likes.

“Park-” he starts to turn around, but she manhandles him back away from her and shoves her hand into the back pocket of his jeans. No small feat tonight, they way the rain has soaked and damn near suction cupped them to his ass. “H-hey, woah, alright there darlin’, slow it down a bit,’ he chuckles, reaching back to feel for her, but she’s already hopping back and flashing a small, colorful rectangle at him.

“Room 236,” she repeats, flipping it around her fingers like a coin. Eliot frowns. They’re in room 225, just down the hall. They’d found what the crooked cops were after with time to spare, so there was nowhere left to search. Why then, would he still have a room key for-

Oh. He reaches back and pats the offending rear pocket, flushing as he remembers Marshall Shipp’s parting flirtatious wink and accompanying gentle smack on the ass as they’d parted ways a half hour ago. He hasn’t exactly been… discouraging her interest. It's felt good that women are still interested in him even as he’s put a few more miles on, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention - especially from someone as 'his type' as Maria.

Well, what used to be his type, at least.

He shoots a sheepish, apologetic grin at Parker. Maria’s ‘interest’ was quickly becoming ‘intent,’ and now Eliot needed to find a way to nip that in the bud sooner rather than later.

“Damn, I should’ve noticed the reverse lift,” Eliot clears his throat, toying with the edge of the pocket absentmindedly. “She must’ve slipped it to me after we completed the radio broadcast. I was uh, distracted by our success I guess.”

“Bet that’s not all she’d like to slip you,” Parker’s voice takes on a bit more of a playful tone for a moment. Cheeky, teasing. It feels like solid ground.

“Hey now,” Eliot teases back, starting to undo his belt, slow and deliberate, as he begins toeing out of his boots. “I can’t help that I still ‘got it,’ darlin’. I can think of a couple folks I know offhand that might like to, uh… 'slip me a little something' right now, 'specially since I'm properly alone with one of 'em for the first time since-” The only problem is, he forgot how damn difficult these boots are to get off on a good day, let alone when soaked through with salt water. Swearing under his breath, he abandons his attempt at being suave to sit at the end of the bed and fumble with the ties. He should know better than try to look cool for either of his partners nowadays. It never works out quite right, and he’s starting to get to the age where he doesn’t even see the use of that kind of posturing anymore himself. They’ve seen him at his worst already - mentally, physically, emotionally - so what would be the point, really? On top of that, he may make a fuss about his ‘cool points’ in front of Breanna, but he knows Hardison’s sneaky ‘dorkification’ process he's been slowly contaminating Eliot with over the last decade is almost complete. He's still drawing the line at DnD, but he doubts that'll last much-

“...or, if you wanted, you could go let her slip it to you.”

Eliot is too caught up in his own head to really register the suggestion at first. He's busy ruminating on how differently his younger self would be handling this whole situation - all smooth moves and hot edges, shucking off clothing with a kind of casual grace.

‘Yeah, those days have long passed,’ he thinks, hunched over and fighting the waterlogged leather of his boots with fumbling, aching fingers. He gets the first one yanked off his foot less than gracefully, wincing at his ankle’s unsubtle protest, before what Parker said finally processes.

Slowly, he sets his singular boot the side and shifts enough to face her. Parker’s tone didn’t hold any bitterness or bite, just nervousness and a bit of resignation. She isn’t looking at him, but out the window, arms wrapped tight around her midsection in a way he hasn’t seen her do in a while. She bounces restlessly on her heels. There’s a clear energy inside her looking to get out. The thunder rumbles lowly through the suddenly silent room, murmuring a warning through the curling reverberation in Eliot’s gut.

He starts out gentle. Easy.

“...now why would I wanna go an’ do somethin’ like that?” Sometimes it’s easiest to bring things to Parker head on, and she’ll respond in her usual stark, frank manner. Just lay it all right out in the open to be picked apart. This isn’t one of those times. Eliot can read that much in every restless tap, every rapid twitch of her eyes to some place else in the room, any place that isn’t him.

“She’s your type, isn’t she?” Parker’s voice is a higher register than it should be, but not quite into her panicking zone yet. That’s a start. “She’s badass, sexy… passionate.”

Eliot notices her leaning heavy on that last word, and frowns.

“So are you, Parker.”

“Not in the same way!” She turns a bit, still looking outside, but her arms unwrap from herself to gesture between them. “Not the same way you and Hardison are!”

It’s quiet for another beat. The white noise of the hissing rain against the window settles into the room with a steady, thrumming tension. Eliot doesn’t jump to demanding clarification like he might’ve done a decade ago, doesn’t snap and tell her to stop beating around the bush. He’s learned that Parker tucks away all the information he needs to understand in every phrase, no matter how inane or incongruent it may seem. So Eliot holds his tongue and chews on the words for a while.

“Me and Hardison, huh?” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and rubs his jaw in a performance of pensiveness. The movement draws Parker's attention and she finally looks over to him, following the back and forth of his fingers. He presses on, carefully. “Thought we were talkin’ bout me and the marshall. What’s Alec got to do with this?”

“Because he isn’t here!” Parker breaks, not enough to falter or crumble but enough to say what's on her mind before she can overthink it. "He isn't here and it's different! I can feel it! I'm not-" she fumbles her words for a minute, just waving between them again. "-all passionate about the whole sex thing like he is!"

There's that word again. Eliot knows where to go from here, at least. It's all about that word. He stands up, albeit a little awkwardly with one foot still in an inch high boot.

"Sure it's fun and I like it sometimes, but not like you two do! Alec balanced me out, could give you what you needed! I'm not… by myself, I'm not enough for… for y-..." Parker cuts herself before she can grow any more manic, bunching her face up and looking away again like she does when trying to stave off any waterworks before they can start.

Eliot can see her closing up again as her words fail her, but that's alright. What needed to get out made it out. He can take it from here. He hobbles over in his awkward, single-socked gait until he's close enough to take her shoulders in hand, but he doesn't pull her in for the hug. Not yet.

"Now I want you to listen to me, and listen good." Eliot makes sure his tone is firm, but gentle. Parker responds the way he'd hoped - still not looking, tilting her head down, but leaning toward him. Into his space. Receptive, and ready to hear him. "Yeah, it feels different. That's cause you and me? Are different from me and Alec. We're always gonna be. 'That makes us, us,' remember? Just like that's different from you and Alec. It's all part of 'us,' yeah, but it's… we got our own thing, Parker. And sure, we might like it best when it's all three of us, just because we love him so, so much, yeah?"

He lifts one hand from her shoulder and tucks a bit of hair back behind her ear, giving her a chance to respond if she wants. Parker murmurs a quiet "yeah," and steps in a little closer. Eliot tugs her in the rest of the way now, assured that she's open to the touch. She pillows her chin on the shoulder she fixed, and Eliot lays a light kiss to the outside of her ear before continuing in a lower voice.

"So… we miss him, when he's not here, and we don't have the 'all three of us' thing right now. That doesn't make our thing, the you and me thing, any less good. It doesn't- Parker, you're so much more than just enough for me. You're who I need... especially when we don't have Hardison. Don't ever doubt that."

"I'll try," Parker turns her head and mutters it into the crook of Eliot's neck, and he loves her all the more for it. It's better than any empty promise of 'I won't,' because he knows the honesty of it. Knows it's not just an empty platitude of 'I'll do it,' but the vulnerable admission of 'I want to, but don't know if I can.'

"That's all I ask, darlin'."

Because it is. That's all Eliot ever asks of her. To try. Never demands that she change, never insists she should be thinking of herself differently or more kindly than she does. Just that she tries to.

"Now. About this whole 'passion' thing," Eliot sighs, pulling back so he can do that thing he does to Hardison that Parker loves to watch him squirm under, but likes it a lot less when it's turned on her. That thing where he ducks his neck and tilts his head and looks up at her through his hair with that serious, intimate look that makes her want to run because he for sure can see all of her secrets like this but also want to sink deep into that comforting gaze and never leave it. "I don't know where you got this idea that you're not passionate from, but-"

"Yeah, but it's not-!"

"The same?" Eliot cuts off her half-hearted attempt at argument. "Course it's not the 'same' as us, Parker! You aren't us. So, you… you don't lose yourself in it the same way me and Hardison do, okay? Him and me, how we get high off each other, the way we act... so you don't do that. That's fine! That’s only one type of passion, darlin'. You can't tell me,” he lets his hands skim down Parker’s arms until they meet her own palms. “That the way you focus so damn hard on taking us apart - taking me apart…”

Eliot brings Parker’s hands to his hips, and her fingers start to fidget with the hem of his shirt. Anchoring herself with the ribbed texture of the tank. Starting to explore up his stomach the way Eliot knows that Parker knows he likes. She’d ferreted that one out of him ages before they’d even thought up this whole ‘you and we makes three’ train. He lets his voice go a little breathy, a little raspy, makes sure she notices how she's affecting him. “-the way you always know exactly how to do it, piece by piece, single-mindedly pulling me apart like a damn puzzle, Park… you can’t tell me that ain’t some kind of passion.”

“Yeah, but that’s just the same way I steal stuff,” Parker giggles a little, the familiar flutter of Eliot’s sides under her deft fingers grounding her and soothing some of the unease. He’s right about this. How she knows what to do with him. How good she is at it. But that’s not anything special, it’s just-

“Exactly, Parker,” Eliot is trying to walk them back toward the bed, but it’s not really working out well. Between his having only the one boot on and Parker actively seeking out the ticklish bits of his belly that make his knees go all wobbly when she scrapes her nails down them, it’s comical enough to startle another giggle out of her. Or it’s a sob. Or it’s a hiccup. Or it’s some weird combination of all three, she isn’t really sure, but it doesn't seem to really matter either. The sound is whatever it was, just like she is whatever she is.

“It's just like that. Just like how you plan your next score. And that’s your Thing. Like me and food, Hardison and his nerdery... Do you realize how that makes me feel? Knowing you treat me like a heist? Like the thing that you let define you?”

“Yeah but that’s not a sex thing, it’s just a me thing.”

“It doesn’t matter that it’s not a sex thing, Parker, it’s your passion. Your Thing. Yours.” Eliot finally makes it back to the edge of the bed and drops, pulling Parker into his lap. He guides her wandering hands to his chest so she can feel the rumble in his voice as he growls.

“Darlin’, you treat me like damn masterpiece. Like I’m standing smack under a spotlight in the middle of the Louvre, and the only thing in the world that matters to you is how you’re gonna pick through my security piece by piece until all that’s left under your hands is a canvas stretched tight as it’ll go and a picture meant only for you and the people you choose to see it."

Parker’s nails scrape against the skin of Eliot’s collarbone as her fingers instinctively curl in, wanting to grip take steal hold climb, and he barely restrains himself from throwing his head back in a moan. He needs to make sure Parker’s in the right place first, before he gives himself over to his own wants.

“Wow,” she whispers, damn near reverent now as she looks down at him. There’s a dawning in her eyes that tells Eliot they’re alright. That they’re gonna be good. That it’s okay to pull her tighter and ask her to go ahead and steal him again tonight, since he knows her rigging is secure.

"I can't imagine anything more passionate than that."

“Uh-huh, ‘wow' is right,” he laughs breathlessly, and reaches up to take hold of her chin. It’s a light grip, barely any pressure where he between his thumb resting on the front and the rest of his fingers curling around under her jaw, but she lets Eliot guide her down until their lips touch. Not kissing, yet, just touching. His mouth moves against hers as he speaks, tongue briefly darting out to wet two pairs of parched lips. “-so tell me, why the fuck would I want to go to anyone else?”

“Maybe if you got some bad advice,” Parker murmurs, voice strong and confident again for the first time since they wrapped up the con. “From someone who didn’t realize she made you feel that way?”

“Hmmn, that could make sense,” Eliot hums back, resisting the urge to roll up against her in wet jeans that would only serve to chafe rather than provide any of the friction that having Parker in his lap always makes him crave. “If someone could help me get this damn boot off, maybe I could get to work making sure she’ll never forget it?”

[haildoodles-writing]

And So We Sing in Elegies -- Chapter 5 

Oberyn Martell x reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

A/N: hello everyone! So sorry for being MIA, covid hit me like a train last month and threw my motivation into the gutter lol. Reading your lovely comments has been a huge motivator for me to keep going, though, and so I pushed myself back into the writing groove and finished this chapter hahaha. Love you all! 

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: none

The walk back to your quarters was . . . complicated, to say the least.

After Oberyn had left his chambers, you tidied the room in silence before changing into your riding clothes from the day prior. The pants and tunic were stiff from dust and wind, making it uncomfortable to put back on--but you would much rather be stuffed into awkwardly-fitting clothes than have to slink through the halls in Oberyn’s robe. Had anyone caught you wearing his attire . . .

You didn’t want to cause any rumors. You couldn’t afford to. 

You are my friend, he had told you earlier--pleaded, even, as if he were trying to convince you that it was true. 

And it was. Of course it was. 

But despite the bond you two shared, you were still a maid serving a prince. You were miles below him, and that distance came with rules. Protocols. And to a man where jurisdiction was at his fingertips and love came at no price, you weren’t sure he would understand why you stuck to them so closely. You weren’t sure he could. 

You shook your head as you crossed the building to the servants’ wing, stifling the thoughts as quickly as they came. You didn’t have the energy to think about it any longer--not after what had just happened. 

You were certain that you wouldn’t be seeing Oberyn for a while. Situations like that usually ended in him finding some place to isolate himself and think, whether it be the gardens or the library--or even the sparring ring, if he couldn’t shake off his anger enough. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he ended up in the latter. 

Though you didn’t blame him much for it. His anger was out of protection, and you understood why. Had the roles been reversed, had Oberyn been the one pushed into an arranged marriage against his will . . . you would have responded the same. 

You prayed that he wouldn’t affect him for much longer, though, and that he would calm down soon enough. And that eventually, maybe, he would become numb to it. Just as you were beginning to be. 

The servants’ wing was lively when you arrived, more so than it usually would have been at that hour. A glance into a few open doorways and at a few scurrying maids answered your question: they were all packing. They were to leave for the Old Palace tomorrow, you remembered--and they would arrive a day before you. 

Thankfully, no one paid you any mind as you hurried down the halls, likely too preoccupied with putting together their own belongings to give you much notice. A few familiar faces glanced your way as you passed--but you kept walking, slinking back into the crowd before they could recognize you. 

Much to your relief, your chambers were quiet when you entered--and so you went about gathering a spare set of clothes, a towel, and a few toiletries as quickly as you could. You wanted to sneak to the bathhouse before Khaegan came in. Or anyone else, for that matter. 

After stuffing everything into a cloth bag, you locked the door and changed into a bathrobe and sandals. You threw your riding clothes into a heap at the foot of your bed—you didn’t have the time to wash them now. You didn’t have the energy to, either.

The moment you finished changing, you collapsed onto the edge of your bed and released a heavy, quiet sigh. You nearly considered lying there for a while, perhaps slipping in a nap before you bathed and inevitably went back to your duties—

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. You nearly groaned. 

It was a feat to get your feet underneath you again, but eventually you crossed the room and unlocked the door with clumsy fingers. And beyond it . . .

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Khaegan said, his face blank as he leaned against the doorway. Judging by his lack of surprise, you presumed he had seen you in the hallway and followed you back. Probably. 

You shrugged, turning back to collect your things as he stepped further into the room. “I arrived late last night,” you told him. “I’ve been with the prince since then.” 

At that, Khaegan raised a brow--but he closed his mouth when you shot him a dry look. 

You grew quiet as he rummaged around his side of the room, pulling clothes and toiletries and a random assortment of items from the boxes underneath his bed. He dropped everything into an old, fraying wool bag at his side. Only when he was finished did he turn to look at you.

His eyes flicked around your side of the room--likely looking for your own luggage. “Are you not packing?” he asked.

“I suppose I forgot to tell you,” you chuckled, “I’m leaving a day after you all. The prince wishes for me to travel with his escorts.”

To his credit, Khaegan didn’t seem fazed by your comment. You suppose it made sense, after all, for you to travel with Oberyn instead of the other servants; your job required you to be close to him as much as possible, especially since you were his only handmaiden--at least at the Water Gardens. 

You wondered why that was. 

Khaegan let out a loud, dramatic sigh as he sat on the side of his bed. “Disappointing,” he muttered. “I was rather looking forward to watching you blush over the prince on our journey there.” 

“Bite me,” you huffed. Khaegan merely laughed. 

Being the perceptive one he was, it didn’t take long after you met for Khaegan to realize your feelings for the prince. Though, you weren’t necessarily inconspicuous about it; unlike your chambermate, you were never good at hiding your emotions. And so Khaegan had to witness your years-long pining over the prince, but he never once pressured you to speak of it unless you felt inclined to do so. 

. . . Though you never outrightly expressed how you felt about him. And truth be told, you weren’t necessarily sure how you felt about him yourself. It was just a flurry of emotions and feelings--some that came in passing fancies and others that made home inside your chest. You weren’t sure you could put it into words, even if you tried. 

You assume it’s because you refused to acknowledge it for so long.

Khaegan didn’t respond to your jab, and you allowed yourself to bask in the quiet--so at odds with the commotion beyond the door--for a moment longer. But then, just as you shouldered your bag and stood, his next words stopped you. 

“Why have you returned so soon?”

 . . . You paused. 

And then you took in a breath. Another. 

“Things . . . didn’t turn out well, with my parents,” you offered. To your own surprise, it wasn’t difficult to spit out. You supposed that it was because you had already said enough with Oberyn; what was one more confession?

For a minute, Khaegan paused. 

“Do you want to speak with me about it?”

“I . . .” You chewed on your lip. 

At first, you weren’t sure you wanted to--weren’t sure that you had the strength to. But the longer you thought about it, the more you realized that you should. Kaegan was the closest friend you had--and, more than that, he was one of the few you trusted.

“I suppose I need to,” you whispered. “Just . . .” 

Khaegan watched as you tensed under his scrutiny. And you tried--you tried--to straighten yourself, to throw your shoulders back and release the tension in your arms until you appeared relatively normal. But that weight, the one that hung like a millstone around your neck, gave it all away. 

“Why don’t you clean up,” he offered. “Then we can talk.” 

 ☼‐‐‐‐☼‐‐‐‐☼‐‐‐‐☼‐‐‐‐☼

 You told him everything. 

. . . Well, nearly everything. You couldn’t bring yourself to go into too much detail, despite the fact that you knew you should. You promised that you would tell him in time. Just . . . not now.

Khaegan was still seated on his bed when you returned from the bathhouse, and he waited patiently until you gathered your thoughts together. And when you eventually confessed, he sat there in relative silence, only speaking up occasionally when he needed more clarification--the whos, the whats, the hows--

Though, he never pushed too far. He never asked why, either. You were grateful for it.

Once you were finished, you waited for a minute as Khaegan’s gaze turned shallow--likely processing everything. You weren’t bothered by it. 

Eventually he spoke up--and unlike you, he wasn’t one to palter. 

“What will you do?” 

His face was impassive--it had been since you began to spill. It was normal for him to take in information before reacting, though. You didn’t expect any emotion-driven comments from him any time soon. 

“My parents will send a letter with the location of the suitor’s estate, and I’ll meet with him soon after,” you shrugged. It sounded monotonous--and by that point, you were sure it had to be. 

“And then?” Khaegan pushed. You knew what he was pressuring you to say. 

And then . . .

You swallowed thickly.

“I’ll marry him,” you whispered, and it felt heavy on your tongue. And as they fell from your lips, you realized it was the first time you had spoken it aloud. The first time you had truly and openly confirmed it. 

I’ll marry him.

It was final.

In front of you, Khaegan rested his elbows on his thighs. “Though you don’t want to,” he concluded quietly. His eyes flicked over your face, your posture, taking everything in. 

Processing. Always processing.

“If I’m being completely truthful . . . part of me does,” you admitted to him. “If I don’t marry now, I likely won’t have the opportunity to again. And I’m not going to leave my family behind, either. So I suppose that in doing this . . .” You shrugged. “It kills two birds with one stone, so to speak. I told the prince the same.” The words were still raw from when you spoke to Oberyn, though, merely an hour or so prior. Saying them still hurt.

Perhaps if you repeated them enough, they wouldn’t weigh you down as they do now. Perhaps they would lose their meaning, and saying them wouldn’t feel like you were trying to breathe around a blade in your chest anymore. And maybe the weights hanging from your neck would shatter, too, and you would finally be able to move without breaking.

For a minute, Khaegan didn’t respond. He simply sat there and waited, watching as you finally hunched over and buried your head in your hands--

You didn’t look up as you heard shuffling, and then the quiet sound of footsteps. And then the bed dipped, and he was next to you, pressing a tentative palm against your back.

Khaegan wasn’t one for touch. He was protective of his own personal space, and any invasion made him uncomfortable--it always had been. So the fact that he had moved to your side, sitting close to you, offering a supportive hand because he knew how much you needed it . . . 

Your eyes burned.

“You’ll be alright,” he whispered, his voice flowing through you like a gentle tide. And for a moment, it was enough to calm you, enough to soothe your frazzled mind and rushing thoughts--

“I know I will,” you croaked. 

I will. I will. I will--

Your hands dropped to your lap, and everything around you began to grow blurry. Somewhere deep inside you, you felt the last remaining piece of your strength crack. 

You began to sob. 

 ☼‐‐‐‐☼‐‐‐‐☼‐‐‐‐☼‐‐‐‐☼

 Khaegan and the rest of the staff left early the next morning. 

The switch in workers was, unsurprisingly, an ordeal that lasted quite some time. Overnight, the servants stationed at the Old Palace arrived in small waves in an attempt to make the transition smoother--which was successful, of course, but it didn’t make the Water Gardens any less loud. 

Unlike your chambermate, you found yourself tossing and turning as you tried to sleep. Over time you grew irritated at the constant bustle--and when that irritation manifested into clenched fists, a large headache, and a heavy weight behind your eyes that refused to fade, you climbed from your bed and trudged through the hallways with a heady sigh. The blanket you brought with you was hung loosely around your shoulders, and you managed to shuck on a pair of sandals before you left. Luckily, no one paid you any attention as you wandered. 

To where, you didn’t know. Just . . . somewhere. Wherever, as long as it didn’t claw at your ears any longer. 

Your head still ached from the previous day’s events--and your body was still exhausted from the past two. It had begun to wear on you, little by little, and now you were left completely defenseless. Usually, noisy quarters and a lively atmosphere just beyond your door was something you could sleep through--but tonight, as if the gods had cursed you, sleep was no easy feat. Relaxation wasn’t one, either. Eventually, you became so overwhelmed that your eyes burned of frustrated tears. All you wanted to do was to rest.

And so, needless to say, the sigh that washed through you as you wandered further into the estate gardens nearly toppled you over. You could feel yourself relax with each step down the cobblestone path--and, unsurprisingly, with each step came more exhaustion. 

Eventually, you found yourself in an alcove towards the edges of the gardens, a few turns past the drawing desk you so frequented. It was a place that you visited often, somewhere most of the servants were unaware of--or at least were too busy to discover. For the most part, you could call it your own. 

The alcove was small, roughly around the size of your own chambers, and mainly consisted of a handful of wooden chairs and a circular table--though at the furthest end from the entrance was a long settee, with an arch of vines nearly concealing it from view. It was exactly what you were looking for. 

In an instant, you collapsed onto the settee and threw the blanket over you. The air that night was cool enough for you to be comfortable as you laid there--and you found your hands unclenching and your eyes drooping almost immediately. The rustling of leaves in the wind and the blinking stars above felt like a lullaby. 

It didn’t take you long to fully relax. 

You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, however, until a hand on your shoulder jolted you awake. 

Oberyn. 

Why does he always seem to find you?

“My dove, why are you sleeping out here?” 

Turning on your side, you found that he was crouched next to you, his head tilted as he stared at you. He was dressed in a loose, burnt orange robe, one that looked almost burgundy in the deep blue night. Likely his nightclothes--or, well, his wandering clothes, as you liked to call them, as it was usually something he threw on just so he didn’t look too improper when he wandered the halls. 

And as he watched you, despite the worry on his face and the crease between his brows, he looked . . . calm. Mellow. The curls brushing his forehead twisted and twirled in the late night breeze, and his eyes glowed and flickered in time with the stars above him—

You wanted to paint it. Paint him.

Though, that wasn’t anything new, was it?

As you sat up, you shrugged. “I couldn’t fall asleep. The servants’ wing is quite lively at the moment.” 

At that, Oberyn paused.

“Why didn’t you come to my chambers, then? You know you are welcome there.” He seemed . . . well, confused, at the fact that you didn’t disturb him, didn’t wake him by creeping into his rooms to fall asleep on his settee or something of the sort--

“I needed some quiet. It’s . . . rather peaceful here.” 

And you’re too timid to face him, you thought. Not after earlier.

Why would he want you in his chambers after that?

A small, almost sheepish smile tugged at his lips. “Well, if I’m intruding, I can leave you be--”

“No, no,” you interrupted, and it was much louder than you intended. You bit your lip.  “I mean . . . you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.” 

He hesitated for a moment--as if examining you, trying to deduce if you really wanted him there. But then, before you could say anything more, he smiled, smoothing down his robe as he came to sit next to you. Again, not too close, just in case . . .

“I thought you could sleep through such noise,” A small, cheeky smirk pulled at Oberyn’s lips. “You certainly did last time.” 

“I beg of you, don’t torment me again,” you groaned--a sound that was drowned out by his laughter. It was one banquet, and he never seemed to let it go--

“It’s much more difficult to remain asleep when my chamber door screeches every time it opens,” you sighed. Though you couldn’t hide your smile. 

At that, Oberyn chuckled. “Remind me to have someone replace that.” 

You almost protested--surely a rickety servant door wasn’t enough for a Dornish prince to send for aid--but you knew that objecting would only make him fix it faster. He was always like that.

Hard-headed, you thought.

But then, as you took in the man at your side, a realization came to you. “Why are you awake, my prince?” 

He hummed. “Oddly enough, the rest of the estate isn’t any quieter. I thought a walk would do me well,” he answered. And then you saw how his eyes glimmered--

“Though, I did come out to simply walk. I didn’t plan to find you asleep in the farthest alcove from the estate.” You pushed at his shoulder, and his resulting laugh echoed throughout the alcove. It was thrumming and bright, and it warmed your skin like sunshine. “You mock me,” you muttered. 

“Only sometimes,” he smirked, throwing you a wink. “When you deserve it.” 

You rolled your eyes.

And then, before you could help it, you yawned. 

Loudly. 

Oberyn laughed at that, and you felt your face grow warm out of sheer embarrassment--

“You should sleep, my dove,” he told you. “Though not out here. I can prepare my rooms for you--”

“No,” you objected. It was a little louder than you had hoped. “No, that’s alright.” 

You didn’t want to intrude, not again. No matter how much he insisted.

You wept last night, in your sleep, he had told you yesterday. And it didn’t take long after that for you to shatter in front of him. 

. . . You didn’t want to risk him seeing that again. 

Oberyn must have noticed something in your face, in your tone--because after a minute, he gave up. He only hummed in response.

You both fell quiet, and you felt Oberyn’s eyes on you as you fiddled the hem of your blanket. You couldn’t meet his gaze. And in that moment, you were surprised that he hadn’t brought up the unspoken issue between you both yet, the floating question that turned the air so thick it was hard to breathe--

The words slipped out of you before you could think twice.  “About earlier . . .” you swallowed. “I hope I didn’t upset you too much--”

Oberyn cut you off. “Nonsense,” he said. “My feelings shouldn’t be placed above your own. In this case, especially.” 

He paused, then, and you felt his gaze on you--taking you in, analyzing you once again. Likely noticing your hunched shoulders, your puffy eyes, the way your body just yearned for some peace--

“Besides,” he offered, “something like this is much better suited for daylight, hm?” He tilted his head as he looked at you, and you fought the urge to shrink under his gaze. “The night has no use for such solemnity.” 

He was always the more logical one between the two of you. The wiser one. 

Eventually, you agreed. “Perhaps it would be better to discuss after your name day, wouldn’t it.” And it was, in all honesty, the best decision--you had preparations to take care of, and you were traveling in less than a day’s time, and you hadn’t so much as gotten the location to your suitor’s estate--

“Perhaps,” Oberyn shrugged, pulling you from your thoughts as he turned his gaze to the alcove before you. And in that moment, you realized that his lightheartedness was more for your sake than for his. That he would continue to remain casual, at least until the air was lighter and your shoulders felt less heavy. And it worked.

You were grateful for it.

Oberyn didn’t let the moment stew longer, though, and he let out a deep sigh as he rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I deem that this calls for something to brighten the mood,” he grinned. He shifted to reach into his robe pocket, and it was only then that you realized he had hidden something there. In the darkness, however, all you could make out was a thin, long bump.

“I’d loathe to see your gift be hidden away in my drawers again, after all.” 

At that, you perked up, and your eyes widened. You couldn’t help it—and Oberyn knew it too, which is why it only made him laugh harder.

“A gift?” You swallowed. “Oberyn, if this is about the other day—“

“It’s not.” 

He held up the object--wrapped in cloth and secured with a piece of twine--between you both. And when he spoke again, his voice was soft. “Consider it an early name day gift.”

You took it from him carefully, eyeing him for a moment until he motioned for you to continue. And so you tugged on the string, unfurling the gift onto your lap--

“. . . A paintbrush,” you breathed. An expensive one at that; you hadn’t seen a pure rosewood brush in years, let alone one that was made with sable hair--

Oberyn let out a chuckle as your fingers fluttered around the brush.  “It’s from Oldtown,” he explained. “I purchased it during my last trip.” 

“That was months ago,” you pointed out. Had he . . .

“I stored it away for safekeeping,” he answered. “I was planning on gifting it to you on your name day, but . . . the situation called for it.”

You let out a deep breath. “It’s beautiful,” you marveled. Gently, your thumb ran over the bristles, over the small etching in the wood just beneath it: your name. 

And in that moment, you nearly chuckled at your own awe, at how you handled the brush so gently. How were you supposed to dirty something so priceless?

“Why give me this now, may I ask? I would assume that it’s in recompense for that charcoal breaking days ago, but this seems much too big a gift so something so simple,” you laughed. And though you didn’t want to, you forced yourself to put the brush down as softly as you could. Oberyn remained oddly quiet as you did so--but when you eventually looked at him again, you saw a small smile adorning his face. 

“You . . .” He swallowed.

You sobered almost immediately.

“I’ve always known that you’ve been treated unfairly. Life has dealt you bitter cards.” With a gentle hand, he reached down and touched the brush, running his fingers over the engraving on its ferrule once. Twice. A third time.

“Until yesterday, I wasn’t aware just how bitter those cards were.” 

You felt your throat grow thick. 

Though you tried not to acknowledge it, you knew his words were true. And sometimes you wished that you had gotten something better--that the man you were fated to marry all those years ago was good, that you never had to grovel and steal after fighting against your own blood--

You never would have met Oberyn, though, you thought. 

The evening grew quiet, then, and you simply watched as Oberyn continued to run his fingers over the brush. 

Life brought you to him. 

For some reason. 

Eventually, Oberyn released a heady breath. “I want you to know that you are safe here,” he promised. Your eyes flicked to his own, then, only to find that he was already staring at you. The intensity in his gaze, the emotion, flooded into you like the sea. 

“No matter what happens, I will protect you,” he whispered. 

The weight of those hit the ground like stone. 

For a moment, you simply sat there, your breathing heavy and your hands shaking as everything began to settle. You couldn’t find the words to respond--you didn’t think you ever would, either. 

He promised--he swore--to protect you. And for him, to make an oath . . .

Before you thought twice, you took his hand and raised it to your lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. His skin was warm, comforting, thrumming with a vibrancy that you wanted to drown yourself in--

When you opened your eyes, you saw his own burning into you. 

And you found that, though you wanted to shrink under his stare, you couldn’t look away.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know.”

You didn’t release his hand.

General Taglist: @mutantsandproud​, @gollyderek​, @mrsparknuts​, @readsalot73​ @toilet-keeper​ @bluemoon-glen​ @talesfromtheguild @lin-djarin​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @gingerbreadandpaper​ @forever-rogue​ @mrpascals​ @bestintheparsec​ @hiscyarika​ @murdermewithbooks​ @aerynwrites​ 

ASWSIE Taglist: @assaultsofthought​ @agingerindenial​ @roxypeanut​ @alisonisunderground​ @gooddaykate-reads​ @renececilia @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @mrschiltoncat​ @clydesducktape​ @misslolasworld​ @lilzebub​ @kid-from-new-zealand​ @rpcvliz​ @none-of-your-bullshit​ @shakespeareanwannabe​ @ineedsome-getmesome @stitchers-in-stitches​ @lueurnotes​ @cinewhore​ @buckstaposition​ @the-feckless-wonder​  @windfallss​ @belfry-bat​ @april-14-blog​ @fandom-addict-aesthetics​ @alexmarie29​ @frietiemeloen​ @imaginecrushes​ @stars-trash-18​ @whovianwar​ @itsjustmylifeconfessions​ @mlb4evah @mcrmarvelloki​ @theamuz​ @persephoneiswatching​ @sweet-creature98​ @drinkingwhileblogging​ @310ra​ @qhbr2013​ 

Pedro Characters Taglist: @ilikechocolatemilkh​ @remmysbounty​ 

Let me know if you would like to be included in any of my taglists!

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: ahhhhh holy holy heck this chapter is SO DAMN EXCITING hehehe I had sosososo much writing and doing all the research!! please let me know if there is anything factual/cultural that I need to fix! I tried the best I could although I most def am not an expert in Egyptian culture so I appreciate it a lot :) hehe i hope ya have fun reading this chapter teehee oh! also I love hearing what you thought of it too! :D 

Four 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, royal!minho, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, several mentions of food and alcohol as well as getting tipsy/drunk that good, good making out, suggestive themes

CWs: mentions of guns, mentions of knives, themes of jealousy (expressed by the reader) 

Word count: 7.5k

Parts 

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE 

“Well, we’re in Cairo alright.” 

Two tugged the amazed young stow-away-student, Seungmin, by the hand of his backpack to keep him from running into one of the palm tree planters decorating the terminal. The young man had nearly slept the whole flight due to the length as well as the exasperation that he had just been through. While his eyes were still darkened from his nap, his glossy pupils still wondered all around him. 

“I take it back. I’m so glad that I almost died so I could end up here with you guys.” 

Jeongin slapped him from the backside of his head. “Never be thankful for almost dying. Life is a lot more fucking fragile than you think. This isn’t just some joyride--” 

“--Ease up F.” You interrupted your partner as you shouldered your bag. The kid had already been through enough already: he didn’t need accosting on top of it all. 

The dashing prince sighed out and stretched his arms. “Ahhhh Cairo. It’s been a while; too long actually.” 

The airport was humid: the kind of sticky warmth that dripped down your neck in a matter of seconds to then get caught above your lip. It wasn’t much help to the anxiety that already had seeped into your veins. The closer you got to a gun the more comfortable you would be. You and the other two guards created a formation around the prince with two in the front and the other in the flank. While each of you were dressed in regular street clothes, your responsibility of his detail still hung over your head with a severe air. 

Chan threw his arm over the young student with an obscene grin. His hair had become a little disheveled from the plane seat and his hoodie, but he didn’t appear to mind. Seeing him so normal was somewhat of an odd change to your previous unbreakable impression of him. 

“Seungmin my friend, you’ve never lived until you’ve been to Cairo. I’ve never seen another place so enriched in history in my whole life...it puts my kingdom to shame. It’s almost like...you can just feel the time here: hundreds of thousands of years...beauty, art, food, industry...I’ve got a thing or two to learn.” 

Seungmin nodded at the prince’s grandiose gestures in the terminal with an enamored smile. “I can’t wait to see it!” 

Your partner put a firm hand on the prince’s back to guide him to the baggage claim. “We won’t be here for long, so, don’t get too excited. We’ve come here for one reason and we shouldn’t dally otherwise.” 

The young boy appeared to frown, and Two bit his lip with a little chuckle. “Way to crush the kids dreams F.” 

“You know the mission, J.” Jeongin gritted his teeth with the words. “Everything is set, there will be a car waiting for us in the garage, and at the hotel we’ll have anything we need.” 

Prince Chan lulled his head back with heels clicking on the flooring. Rogue strands of his hair hung over his sunglasses where he threw a look back at you while pulling them down. 

“Don’t forget our little deal Bee? We’ll have time for a little pleasure.” 

The white haired agent rolled his eyes with gusto then adjusted the royal’s glasses over his face. “We’ve still got to be careful, you Highness. We never know where they could have eyes.” 

“I know where I’ve got mine...” He turned back once more to throw his cockiness in your general direction. 

“Listen to F, your Highness...if you want to live.” 

“Oooo. Feisty as ever, Bee. I love it when you bite back.” Chan turned to his new pet, Seungmin, “She’s really something isn’t she?”

The young man nodded, but not necessarily because he agreed, but it just seemed like it better to agree with a prince than to disagree with him. 

The air appeared to turn even thicker in the summery and arid city and your group approached the parking lot half shaded. Outside of the cement lot, iridescent waves of heat wiggled on the horizon, and further, the astonishing urban sprawl of Cairo, and just over it, the stretch of the Nile and Giza. Palms and other varieties of plants spotted the landscape and above it all, a perfectly crystal blue sky streaked with thin clouds. Had the circumstances been different, you really would have wished to have been there for pleasure. 

“This one. Right here.” Jeongin announced upon spotting the black armored sedan. It wasn’t the most inconspicuous vehicle, but you were prioritizing safety over aesthetics. Your partner touched his index fingerprint to the car door’s invisible panel, and it flashed blue just as the lock had at the safehouse with the ticking clock insignia. 

Two whipped his head around to make one last check of the surroundings before taking off his sunglasses and reddened eye. “Get in. Both of you.” He urged the prince and the student. He popped the drivers side open to find a different pair of glasses in the storage compartment: gold framed aviators. 

“Huh,” He said happily while putting them on. “This is more my style.” He rummaged around a bit more to find a new pair of black framed glasses there too. “Fox! Think fast!” He threw them over to your partner who sighed out with relief. 

“Thank god.” 

The trunk opened with a mechanical sounding creek, and you lifted up the trunk bed to find your whole arsenal: Heckler & Koch MP5′s submachines, Remington 870 shotguns, and Glocks complete with thigh holsters. Among the pile of metal, various knives and other weapons were held in foam holders. 

“They’ve got knives back there?” Two asked while pulling the rearview mirror to see. 

“Oh yeah. What? You more of a knife guy?” You teased while looping your thigh holster over your cargo pants. It fit just right. 

The illusive man popped his gum with a shiny smile. “‘Don’t ever have to reload them...that’s what I’m saying.” 

“Thank you Carroll.” Jeongin sighed upon seeing the thick laptop among the weapons. “Finally I can do some real work. That kid’s damn Chromebook was killing me. I nearly short circuited it trying to connect to our network.” 

“You what?!” Seungmin was suddenly much more interested. 

“Dont worry yourself too much, its still fine.” 

“Are there cameras in here?” You quickly asked your partner. 

“Agency should’ve fried them a long time ago. Why?” 

From the trunk bed you sized up the Glock to feel its weight and how cool it settled into your sweating hand. You unloaded the magazine to see that it had already been filled. 

“Carroll. She really is too kind to us.” You slid the magazine back in then, pulled back the slider to lock it once more, catching Chan’s adoring glance. 

“Something interesting pretty boy?” 

The prince appeared to shiver a little, but brushed it off sighing, “Oh, nothing.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Either it was Carroll or the King, but someone had spared no expense on the young prince. The sun set upon the sparking Nile where you had arrived at the Four Seasons Hotel Cairo at Nile Plaza. 

Anything for His Royal Highness The Prince. 

The towering and gleaming building was a sight to behold in and of itself. It was nestled right into the riverside anchored with several leisurely sailboats bopping in the evening breeze. As day crept into night, the city grew with a swell of lights washing as far as you could see. Extensive bridges and roadways glowed with headlights and every building appeared to be illuminated along with more boats strolling down the river in a rainbow of colors and music. 

The prince craned his head as close to the window as he could and rubbed together his hands excitedly. He looked from you to your partners, finally making a disapproving scoff. 

“Come on. You’re not just a little excited to be here?” 

“We’re here on business, how many times do we have to explain?” Jeongin typed away at his computer from the front seat. 

“Bee?” He looked back to you with a hopeful little glint to his eye. 

“Like Fox said...tomorrow is our appointment with White Rabbit, then we’re on the first flight back home for you.” 

The young prince frowned, but this quickly faded once he had seen the golden brass doors to the magnificent hotel. Seeing the state that the four of you were in, it was a bit comical that you had rolled up to a place such as this. Immediately a valet and bellhop jogged up to the car wearing perfectly pressed uniforms and spotless shined shoes. Little did they know you had no belongings to your name...the rest was waiting in your suite: the royal kind. 

Seungmin cranked his neck to take in the scale of the building in all of it’s regal glory and let out an airy laugh his with his backpack straps snapped tight. 

“Holy shit.” He exclaimed with a giant smile 

Two rose a “no thank you” hand to the valet, and asked him where the garage was in perfect Arabic. The gesture surprised you...as many things did with that man. Jeongin gave a little nod in appreciation to the bellhop and expressed with his own broken version of Arabic that you group had no luggage. The young man was confused, but still gladly took the bills that Jeongin had slipped into his hand for the inconvenience. 

“We’re staying here?” Seungmin wondered while he followed you in. 

“When you travel with The Prince, it comes with some perks.” Chan tore off his glasses with a particularly prideful grin. 

“I feel like I need to pay for just...breathing in here.” 

Indeed, it was a luxurious and grand place. The atrium was patterned with various plush lounge chairs and benches and the path was made of emerald green marble tiles with swirling designs of beige loops. Thick, round columns also supported the ceilings in the lobby, and crystal glass chandeliers sparkled. On several tables, massive floral arrangements had been freshly placed, and you wondered how much the hotel must've paid for them to look that good just to have them replaced the next day. 

A couple formalities were exchanged with the worker at the front desk, and soon the keycards to the royal suite were placed into your hands. Seungmin held his piece of plastic as if it were a gold bar in his hands whereas Chan shoved it right into his front pocket. 

“Everything that we should need should be up in the room.” You told the group who were too distracted to hear what you had just said. 

Just before you had entered the elevator, a tug at your sleeve stopped you in your tracks. Jeongin pulled you back, nodding at Two to go with the others up first. 

“Remember what we talked about before?” He muttered in the hollow and stone corridor. “About the prince?” 

“I need to stay beside him?” 

Your partner nodded with a furrowing brow. “We’re out in the open here, it’s a big city...anyone could be watching us. No distractions, no messing around, no anything. We see White Rabbit and we leave. Hell, I’m even inclined to make sure he doesn’t leave the room...” 

“Jeongin...” You squeezed your partner’s shoulder which felt stringy and tense under your fingertips. “I got it. Trust me. He won’t leave my sight. I promise.” 

“..Okay.” He said with a nervous brush to his hair, then he pressed the elevator button with his knuckle. 

“You...okay?” 

The young man appeared to snap out of a trance. “What? ...Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m keeping it together fine. It’s just...there’s a lot riding on this mission. I don’t...” 

The gold and reflective elevator dinged to the ground floor. 

“We can’t disappoint Carroll with this one. There’s too much riding on it...I can’t disappoint Carroll.”      

You invited your partner into the marbled and mirrored interior of the small space. 

“Don’t worry, we won’t.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━ 

 Even without the help of his royal helpers, Chan managed to clean himself up nice...provided, only the finest clothes had been sent for him to wear. While they weren’t the usual designer labels that he was used to, it was clear that they had been picked out from the finest markets and boutiques in the area. Chan, as he always was, was a prince to the full extent of the word. After a shower and some perfume to his chest, he was the same man that you had been introduced to. 

A loose linen shirt swayed from his frame with little regard for the usage of buttons. He wore slacks that had been pressed made of a kind of fabric that you had never seen before, but looked airy and comfortable. As always, there was a small assortment of shoes for him to choose from as well. He picked brown leather loafers, then tucked up his sleeves to reveal his arms; scratched as they were, but still strong and spiderwebbed with thick veins. 

Arrangements had been made for you to share one of the bedrooms with him--as much as you had fought it at first. Chan was thrilled with the idea, and gladly let you settle into his room with your small assortment of sidepieces and modest set of clothes by regulation of The Agency. While it had mostly been denim button downs and several kinds of functional trousers, they had sent an evening gown. 

The silky white fabric was not unlike the dress that had worn for the gala, but it appeared to be even more sultry once you held it to your frame. The thin spaghetti straps barely held to your shoulders and the back dipped nearly halfway down your back. 

Knowing the man that you had an appointment with, you figured the dress would make it just a little bit easier to talk to him. Along with it, there was a matching set of diamond earrings and a necklace that glinted with the same sheen of the sea. 

“You’ll look gorgeous in that.” Chan said while slipping on a wristwatch. “I’m sure that it will suit you perfectly.” 

The wooden bedside nightstand creaked when you put your holster and Glock in with a matching matte black knife. You had to be careful with that one, as it had nearly cut your finger upon inspection earlier.         

“Hm. I think the both of us know that you’d prefer it on these lovely marble floors rather than on me. Correct?” 

The confident prince strode across the room in the dim lighting of a couple lamps with stained glass shades. Outside of the balcony attached to your room, the sheer curtains blew in the night air and distorted the city lights across the river. Further, Cairo Tower surged with a pink light wrapping around the length were the cylinder pierced the sky. 

“Maybe.” He tutted, then crinkled the king-sized bed where he sat. The prince’s disposition was alluring, there was no denying. He tiled his head to inspect you further, jaw clenching with a sharp angle and a testing glare to his brown pupils. The man smiled slightly while rubbing his index and ring finger down the sleeve of your considerably less scratchy blouse. 

“I hope that during our time here Bee, I’ll get to know you a little better. I’m...really looking forward to our drink later. I made reservations for us.” 

“Reservations? When did you do that?” 

“Oh. When you were showering.” He smirked at his sneaky plans unbeknownst to you. 

“If you think that I’m letting you go anywhere else besides this hotel--” 

“--Bee?” The young royal grew quieter, softer, careful even. His hand cascaded from your arm down to your waist where he tentatively went to grab at your hip and squeeze lightly there. 

While your first reaction was to swat him away, your second crept up on you unexpectedly, and swelled with a kind of confused euphoria feeling the pressure of him on your body. You let his hand linger there, thumb pressed into your hipbone. 

“You don’t need that dress to be beautiful.” 

His words snapped you back; sickly sweet, and sticky in your chest. You cast his hand off of you. 

“You’re crossing the line, your Highness. Don’t...don’t touch me again.” 

The royal sighed as he rose, then inspected his face in the sizeable mirror. Each of his cuts and scars had been skillfully covered with makeup the best he could manage.  

“Bee, I’d cross multiple lines for you. I thought you knew?”    

“THIS BED IS FUCKIN’ AMAZING!!” Seungmin called from the opposite of the suite. 

The prince smiled, then followed you to the door. 

“I’ve already got enough on my hands, your Highness. I ask that you not distract me.” 

“Distract you?” 

As soon as you had said it, regret bit at the tips of your ears. You couldn’t meet his teasing glances, but rather slid one of your more discrete sidepieces into your crossbody bag--as if guns as such could be such a thing. 

“I-I...I’ll sleep on the couch.” You then resolved out loud, however the prince chuckled at your sudden break. 

“As you wish Bee.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“I think that this is the best meal that I’ve ever eaten in my entire life!!” 

Seungmin kicked his legs under the table to the embarrassed glances of both Jeongin and Chan. Before you, the prince had ordered a variety of both cold and hot mezzah dishes with a couple main entrees for you to share. While he was the only one to drink, he indulged in the most expensive wine that the hotel had to offer. Granted, everything would be paid for in cash from The Agency, however the Prince swore up and down that anyone could order anything that they wanted and that The Agency would be paid back in full. You and your partners ate modestly, however the young student didn’t hold back. As the boy shoved his face, it appeared to make the prince happy to see him eating so well. 

You were still an odd group, and garnered curious glances from other restaurant guests. While they were only glances in passing, they still didn’t make you feel any better. You had already drawn enough attention to yourself with you being an odd mix of foreigners who each held themselves differently. You could sense that you partner felt it too while he sipped at his seasonal soup with eyes up to scan the room as he did so. 

Chan threw his arm behind your chair to take in the rest of the room: perfectly decorated with jade green chandeliers and perfectly symmetrical wallpaper and furnishings. It was as if he felt somehow content with your strange little group; like he was the ringleader of it all or some king of the round table. For a moment, he paused to watch the way that the boats passed by on the river from the window nearest to him and sighed. Knowing him, he was probably enjoying running for his life in this way. 

Two cleared his throat and unbuttoned his fashionable suit jacket as the waiters came to clear the table for dessert. 

“So. What are the specs for tomorrow?” 

Jeongin fiddled with his glasses, then dabbed away at the corners of his mouth. “He’s invited us to come around 11pm. He wants us to dress up too--as I’m sure you’ve all seen the clothes that have been provided for us. He apparently loves his formalities, but, anything to make him feel more comfortable I suppose. His men will meet us in the front and take us to him, then we try our best not to fuck it up.”

“--Which we won’t.” You soothed your partner. 

Seungmin perked up, “I’m coming too?” 

“How else are we going to look after ya, kid?” Two ruffled up the young man’s hair. 

“W-wait. Didn’t you say that it’s a club? Will they even let me in? I’m not like, 21 yet? I mean, I will be in a couple months--” 

“--Ahhh you’re so cute.” Chan beamed. “If you’re rolling with us that doesn’t matter.” 

Seungmin blushed and played with the condensation of his water glass. “Oh.” 

Your partner shifted in his seat. “Speaking of. Considering that you’re “one of us” now. We need to discuss something important with you. Your identity.” He looked over to you to finish the rest of the speech that had been pushed off for just a bit too long. 

“Your name...is your most valuable asset. It’s the only thing about yourself that you can keep for yourself. No one else should know it besides you...and, well, us. If they know your name, they know your family, they know where you live, where you go to school, even that girl that you had a crush on in the fourth grade. Got it?” 

Seungmin gulped dry with blown out eyes. “I-I think that I understand.” 

“What do you want us to call you from now on?” 

He paused, considering towards the ceiling. ”Well...if you’re B, and he’s F...and he’s J...I could be S? Simple enough right?” 

“S it is then.” 

The waiters arrived with every dessert possible: chocolate cake, Crème Brule, fruit cheesecake garnished with mint, as well as traditional desserts like Om Ali and Mehalabiya--a type of milk pudding dressed with delicate, pink, edible flowers. 

Seungmin--now dubbed S--made happy little eating sounds while he tried a little bit of everything. 

“Thank you.” You finally spoke to the prince, who now smelled strongly of Lotus and Jasmine. 

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind treating my friends.” 

The word hung in the air, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it. 

Friends. 

“Where is this reservation that you mentioned?” 

He took a swing from his crystal glass with finesse. “Hm. That’s for me to know and you to find out.” 

“Jeongin told me that I need to keep an eye on you, you know that? It would be best if we didn’t leave the hotel at all--” 

“--But what would be the fun in that?” The prince nearly pouted. 

From the others side of the table, Two in his aviators brushed off his lap before standing. “I’m going to get some sleep, if that’s alright with you? I’m feeling pretty jetlagged and I want to be prepared for tomorrow. Excuse me.” 

The slender man bowed to you at the table, then even deeper to the prince. 

“What was that about?” Jeongin muttered while he poked at the thin caramel layer of his French dessert. 

“Actually, I think I want to head to bed too, I’m stuffed.” Seungmin rubbed his belly in his contentment. “Also...I think I might have homework due...heh. I don’t know...I’ve got to figure out all these all these time differences and stuff.” He pushed in his chair then gave the prince a deep bow. “Thank you, your Highness.” 

“My pleasure.” Chan said with a tiny bow back. “Rest up, kid.” 

With the empty holes at the table, the silence was deafening. 

“And then there were three.” Jeongin yawned. “Bee? Wanna do some laps in the morning? I saw that they had a pool? Wanna see if you can beat my record...again?” 

“Psh. I was coming off that biochemical cocktail the last time we tired. You had an advantage.” 

“Then you’ll beat me? Hm! I look forward to that.” Your adorable partner flashed the first smile that you’d seen in a couple days. You missed it, you realized. 

“Sleep tight Bee. Goodnight your Highness.” 

“Thank you Fox.” The prince mirrored his warm smile. 

Knives and forks clinked on china in the dining room, and music softly payed the soundtrack of the evening. A low hum filled the space where the tourists and patrons chatted among themselves. It was peaceful and normal amidst everything that had been pricking your skin and plaguing worry over your mind. The prince merely sighed, sparking eyes reflecting the candles dying out on the table. 

“And now it’s just the two of us.” 

“Seems like it.” 

“Can I whisk you away now?” 

“Whisk? Who said that I would allow any whisking?” 

“Come on...Bee. Just this one time? I promise to be on my best behavior.” 

You laughed out incredulously at the comment. “You out of all people can’t promise something like that.” 

“I guess you’re right about that. But...still, I won’t try to make a scene or anything.” 

The royal placed his napkin on the table with his knife and fork respectfully tilted off the edge of his plate. 

“Follow me?” 

Chan held out his hand. It was pink with heat and scraped a little from the glass that had pierced the fragile flesh. In some way, you had felt a twinge of guilt seeing the small injury knowing that you couldn’t have protected him well enough then. You allowed him to lace your fingers with yours, and felt the rough cuts of his scars in your palm. 

You had promised to yourself that he would never know such pain again. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“Annnd...this is it!” 

You had taken all of twenty paces outside of the hotel when Chan gestured with open arms to the riverfront. Just at the riverbank, a steamboat was anchored with open doors for hotel guests to enter. The massive, multideck, white steamboat shone like the moon peaking at the ocean’s horizon. Each of the semi-circle windows were lined with white lights and from the inside, the delightful sound of laugher and live music spilled out to the glossy water of the Nile. 

“W-what is this?” 

“Well…it’s a dinner cruise but I just signed us up for the bar part. Are you...surprised? I thought that it must be pretty safe considering that we’re on the water and no one can drive up and shoot at us.” 

“I mean...it’s a bit closed off, but nothing that I can’t handle.” 

The prince held out his arm for you to lead the way, then took your hand to help you watch your step down the stairs. Chan provided his name to the conductor in elegant sounding Arabic, leaving you shocked. 

“Y-you speak Arabic too?” 

Chan chuckled once more, taking your hand in his to bring you down the creaking wood deck with swinging with lanterns above your heads. 

“As a royal and diplomat, it’s best for me to know how to communicate if I might need to.” 

“I must say your Highness, I am definitely impressed.” 

“What? You thought I was just another pretty face?” The charming prince escorted you to a room within the steamboat that was lined with red velvet carpets and small bar tables with tea candles and water lilies floating in a shallow dish. He pulled out your chair before his own, then settled with hands folded in his lap. “I’m trained in hand-to-hand too, although I could use a refresher; that was so long ago, back when I went to school.” 

“Hand-to-hand? Well! You really are full of surprises.” 

The prince appeared smug and faintly amused by the compliment as he crossed his legs under the table and leaned in with his dizzying floral scent. 

The waitress appeared and Chan flexed his language skills once more while he ordered a Hemmingway Daiquiri for himself and a French 75 for you. Somewhere off in the distance or perhaps a different part of the boat, louder and more excitable music played along with the echoing claps of those who listened along. Here, it was much quieter, and the loud sound was replaced with a jazz song that you had heard before--likely from your more formative years. 

“It’s a beautiful night.” Chan began, “Thank you for agreeing to do this with me. I know that I’ve been a bit forward, but, I appreciate you entertaining me.” 

“If I had said no, what would’ve happened then?” 

“Well, maybe I would’ve dropped it, but...knowing you...I don’t think that I would’ve given up easily.” 

The waitress returned with the drinks on a silver platter: his grapefruit pink and yours the color of a lemon drop. 

The royal rose his glass for you to clink with yours, “To...adventures.” 

“To adventures.” 

With a resounding sound, the glasses met, and you watched the way that the shimmering liquid ripped across the prince’s nose. 

The two of you sat for several moments more, saying nothing, but sipping and soaking in the night breeze and the humidity that made your whole body feel blanketed with a sense of calm. You had felt this way before back at the safe house, and it snuck up on you once more. Simply exisiting with the prince provided you with a sense of solace that had long since faded from your life. The sense of responsibility that you felt for the man was noticeable, but you couldn’t help but notice how he provided for you the same sense of safety that you did for him. 

Perhaps it was the loneliness of the job and the solitude that came along with it. Was that you craved to be touched? Listened to? Admired? You had distanced yourself from irrational things such as love and other feelings of attachment. In your line of work, people died often, and you had to move on just as fast as their lives had been taken from them. You supposed that you had become unfeeling at this point...but this prince, so full of himself and focused on the material...there was something about him that reminded you how to feel. 

“Bee? What are you thinking about?” He asked carefully. 

“Oh...nothing.” 

“You looked kind of lost here.” 

“Was I?” 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah...yeah. I’m fine. Maybe the drink is just...getting to me.” 

“Just one drink?” Chan giggled a bit, “I didn’t take you for being a lightweight Bee. I thought that they gave you like, drinking lessons or something back at that agency of yours.” 

“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have more than one drink anyway.” 

The prince nodded, understanding. “So, what will you tell me about yourself? Is there anything that you’re allowed to tell me? Or...will you always be this mysterious, beautiful, enigma?” 

“Me? Enigmatic? Ha! Hardly.” 

“Well? What then?” The prince sucked at the lime garnishing his glass. “Since I don’t have the pleasure of knowing your real name, I’d love it if you could tell me something.” 

Over the stereo, the muted trumpet played along with the twang of thick upright bass strings,

“I suppose I could tell you how...” Chan leaned in, “I didn’t want to join The Agency. At first.” 

“Oh? Why’s that?” 

“It felt like a bit of a last resort and anything that is a last resort is something that can’t come easy.” 

Chan titled his head as if to say, I’m listening. 

“Life...fucking sucks sometimes. Sometimes...you’re left...living with your sleazy uncle with a letter addressed to you post mortem telling you to carry on the family name if you want to feel some connection to the parents that you never knew.” 

The royal cast his eyes down, “I-I’m so sorry.” 

“The Agency has been everything I’ve known since I was a teenager. This life...it’s everything. I think in a way I feel obligated to it...since it was what took my parents from me...I owe it to them to do a job that they spent so much energy on so that it wasn’t in vain.” 

You stopped, realizing the weight of your words in the air and how they cut like the blade of the knife that you kept tucked in your waistband sheathed in a leather cover. Once the sharp metal was taken from it’s confines, there was nothing to protect those from the damage it could do. 

“Bee...I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry. That’s terrible. I can’t imagine what it must be like to loose your parents and have been thrown into this life...no one deserves that.” 

“Its okay.” You sighed. “I did it to myself. Now, it’s of no concern. I can take care of my own, and I have a new family. I try not to look back.” 

As he had done numerous times before that night, Chan’s hand reached out for yours under the table, brushing up against the white cloth. 

“I can’t say how much I appreciate you enough for what you do; risking your life for me...I owe you everything Bee.” The prince softened, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. 

The chug of the steamboat hissed softly behind you in that back bar room, and just through the windows, you could see the stars dotting the sky just as they did in any corner of the world. They were a reminder that while some things changed, others didn’t. 

The echo of footsteps on the deck clicked, causing you to turn a careful glance back to the direction of the sound. The man who entered was dressed in a casual cotton button up and navy slacks. On the white of his breast, he wore a pin holding the symbol of a crest.

“Lee Minho?” Chan gasped. 

“Your Highness!” The handsome man bowed immediately with a startled little smile. 

The friendly prince stood immediately upon seeing the other royal to shake his hand. “What a coincidence that we meet again!” 

Lee Minho shied with a polite smile while fiddling with his hair that looked to be masterfully styled. “Must be...fated. Or something like that.” 

“Are you alright? Last I saw you was at the shooting at the gala. I’m so glad to see that you’re safe. You didn’t get injured I hope?” 

This close, Lee Minho had oddly cat-like eyes that were as intense as they were alluring. He was just as you had remembered him to be--put together and polished like a true royal, dastardly handsome with all the right curves to his body, and just enough mystery to him to pique the interest of anyone who had sensed his air--just as the prince had. 

“What are you doing in Cairo?” Chan asked, gesturing for the stranger to pull up a chair. 

Lee Minho swatted away the question with an annoyed cringe. “Royal stuff, you know how it goes. Everyone is always trying to poke their noses in places where they shouldn’t be...unless they’re looking to get themselves killed. That's why they send me. I’m dispensable.” 

“Oh, I’d hardly say that.” 

In seconds the prince’s entire body had shifted towards the direction of the other man, and hung onto each of his words as if they were a siren song. 

“When you’re not as high up in the ranks as you are your Highness, royalty starts to feel more like servitude than a legitimate position.” 

“So, where are you poking your nose?” 

Lee Minho’s eyes nervously flicked to you, and Chan realized that he had skipped right over introductions. 

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce the two of you. Minho, this is Bee, my--” 

“--I’m a member of his detail.” You spoke for him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you formally Lee Minho. I recall seeing you at the gala.” 

Minho bowed slightly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” 

It was obvious that you had made the man uncomfortable, just as you had liked it to be. While you could see what the prince had seen in him, you had the disposition to be much less trusting than his Highness. 

“Which royals are employing you? I’d love to know! It’s always exciting for me to learn about who is plotting what. The royal drama keeps me really entertained.” 

Minho sat up straighter, then waved a hand for the waitress to come scuttling over. 

“Some of my family members. You wouldn’t know them, we’re all dreadfully insignificant to be honest. They heard all this business about those men with the red crests and they’re starting to get scared. After they targeted...you, they’re wondering which royal family might be next...if any. I’m here to find out who they are, their whereabouts, anything else.” 

“Wow! That’s actually what we--”

“--And where are you planning on getting this information if I may ask?” You hushed the prince’s loose lips as quickly as you could. 

Minho leaned in over the flickering candle to lower his tone, “I heard that there’s an informant here in the city who might now something about this group. They’ve been popping up on national news too as of late. I’m looking to talk to him tomorrow evening. Luckily, I was able to make an appointment but it was no small feat. I had to bribe him to high hell to get him to speak with me.” 

“Hm. Sounds familiar.” You mumbled. 

Chan’s eyes widened, then he looked back to you to ask for permission. You gave him a nod.

“It seems like we’re here for a common purpose my friend.” The prince leaned in to bridge the gap between them, his hand notably reaching to rest on the other man’s thigh below the table’s surface. “We’re seeking similar information and I think we might be speaking of the same informant.” 

“But your Highness, isn’t it dangerous it you to do something like this?” 

“Not when I’ve got her around.” Chan threw a sly grin to you across the table. “I’m well protected. And you? Where’s your detail?” 

“I’m afraid that I’m out here alone. Like I said, when you’re as low in the ranks as I am...” 

“What? That’s terrible!! They aren’t even protecting their own? Bee!!” 

“Yes, your Highness?” You already knew where this was going. 

“Let’s bring Minho along with us tomorrow! We know that there’s safety in numbers--” 

“Your Highness, in case you haven’t noticed, our hands are already a bit full...”

“I can fend for myself.” Lee Minho suddenly piped. “Travelling alone, I’ve picked up a few things about protecting myself. You don’t have to protect me, but, I appreciate the offer.” 

“Nonsense! You should come with us! I would feel more comfortable if you did rather than went by yourself.” 

Lee Minho gave the royal a smile in his thanks, it was pure and a little adorable you had considered...but that was likely the champagne going to your head. 

“Really? I appreciate it, your Highness.” 

While you were distanced, you nearly could’ve sworn that the prince had squeezed the other’s leg reassuringly, and you were willing to bet he had rubbed it with his thumb too just as he had done to you. 

After long, the waitress returned with Lee Minho’s drink, and the two men chatted like old college buddies while you slipped away at your drink in an attempt to make it last as long as you could. While Chan did try to engage you in conversation, it would never last for long until he would become puppy-eyed over the stranger again. In the end, you wondered if the tipsy prince would’ve also confessed to this man if he had one too many drinks. 

The table bumped with their jovial and restless legs, and you could only imagine what wandering hands sought to discover. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The hotel was quiet save for the click of heels on the marble floors from ladies who had just gotten off the steamboat and clung to their husbands in their drunken stupor. They cackled in the empty and golden lobby, then pressed hasty kisses into the stuttering mouths of their husbands who’s mouths then smeared with hot pick lipstick. Chan giggled at the sight while he tripped over his own feet too. 

“Ahhhh. Being in love is so cute.” He adored them once you had entered the elevator. 

“You’re not going to throw up on me, are you?” 

The prince hiccupped, then shook his head. “Unlike you I know how to hold my liquor. I’m fine. Just a bit sleepy I think. Must be the jet lag.” 

The tones for each floor beeped in the compartment, and Chan lulled his head back and forth. 

“So. Lee Minho huh?” You said, not even able to help yourself. The alcohol had brought you a bit of an edge...so you thought. 

“Lee. Minho.” He sighed out dreamily. “What do you think of him?” 

“I think I can’t trust anyone as long as I haven’t ran at least three background checks on them.” 

“Awww, Bee, you’re so thoughtful of me.” 

In the empty hallway, the prince with squinting eyes leaned against the doorframe to the royal suite, reaching out to brush up against your blouse once more. You let him, excusing his drunken state. After he did so, his eyes hazed over with something much different, while he looked exhausted, it was laced with something else: something much more longing. 

“Bee...fuck, I really want to kiss you again.” 

“Hm. That’s ripe coming from you who was just viciously flirting with Lee Minho.” 

You could see his head spinning in his dilated pupils. “What?” 

The door clicked open and you less than gracefully lead the prince through the dark to your shared bedroom. 

“B-Bee, what are you talking about?” 

You scoffed, “I’m not blind, you know.” 

“A-are you...jealous?” 

“W-what? Fuck no. I’m just...you can’t just...toss people around thinking that they’ll all bend to you.” 

Chan sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed at his temples when you turned one of the lamps on. 

“I-I was doing that?” 

You tore a pillow from the bed as well as the throw blanket at the end. “I’m sleeping on the couch. Good evening, your Highness.” 

“Wait! Bee!” The young prince stumbled after you, stubbing his toe against the bedpost in the process. “Ah-FUCK!” He grunted. 

“What?” You growled back to him, half shrouded in the darkness of the suite living room. 

The royal stumbled out, eyes blank and backlit from the bedroom. While you couldn’t see him fully, you later could assume that there was something in him terribly torn and ripped in that moment that made little sense to him, as it did to you to. 

Arms reached out, bodies softly illuminated by the lights of the city, and the prince leaned himself fully into you, pressing bitter tasting lips to yours with a heat and desire that only seemed amplified the breather he had gotten. While he tasted of lime and grapefruits, with a twinge of alcohol. He was just as addictive as any vice. You wanted to feel him. As infuriating as he was, and oblivious, your abhorrence to him was just as strong as your attraction. 

“Mm, Bee--” He moaned directly into your mouth while shuffling both of you back to the bedroom. 

The prince’s trembling breath floated from his mouth to yours where he used both of his large hands to pull your face closer to his. You knew that in some way, there must have been something ingenuine about the whole scenario, but you didn’t care too much, not when kissing him felt like something. Maybe he had kissed you out of pity, or because he really had wanted to kiss you. You broke for seconds before both of your tangled limbs hit the bed. 

“Before...you said that you wouldn’t kiss me.” 

“I didn’t make any promises...but, how come...you said that you wouldn’t hesitate...? But you kissed ba--” 

You silenced the prince’s words with your own heated kisses that made little sense, only that kissing him as such felt good. You straddled the man while his hungry fingers traced all the way down your back. The prince’s hips sunk into the cushiony mattress, and you screwed him down even harder into it with your own heated hips grinding into him with as much pressure as you could muster. 

“This is what you want, right?” You pulled at his lip with your teeth to hear him groan from it. 

“Is it...what you want?” Chan got out between more kisses. 

You could blame it on loneliness or lack of touch all that you wanted, but it wasn’t even close. 

“Wait. Wait.” Chan suddenly interjected. 

“What? What is it?” 

The prince looked up at you, that haze in his eyes now fading to something much different that wasn’t covered in the lust that he held before. 

“Bee...I-I don’t know if I want it to happen this way. It feels...it’s not...” 

“Not what?” 

He brushed his hand upward now to caress your face, lingering on the side of the peach fuzz on your cheek. “You deserve better than whatever the hell this is.” 

“Oh, so when I finally want to fuck you, you’re saying it isn’t right?” 

“I’m saying, I’m drunk, it’s late, clearly there’s something that’s upsetting you, and I want to know what it is before we do anything else. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

It might’ve been Lee fucking Minho, or it might’ve been something else much stickier for you to admit, but seeing the prince like this, it was too much. He was gorgeous under you, practically angelic looking. 

“I-I’m...complicating things.” You whispered out, and the prince softened even further. 

“That’s what it is? Bee, I told that you don’t have to worry about--” 

“--Yes. Yes I do...your Highness. I-I can’t feel...” 

“Bee--let’s just talk about--” 

The prince might’ve said more, but his words faded into murmurs once you closed his door behind you, then crawled onto the couch in Jeongin and Seungmin’s room, locking their door too. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz