#and she has to live with the guilt of leaving him behind for weeks

[justaz]

after mt st helens erupted and percy went missing, annabeth rarely slept or ate. at first, when she did sleep, her dreams were filled with him dying over and over again. then they began to become more realistic of him shaking her awake and standing in front of her perfectly fine, healthy, alive. those hurt worse bc when she actually wakes up there’s this split second where she believes in her heart that it was real, only to look around and find herself alone again.

#annabeth chase #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #percabeth #headcanon #head canon #hc #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #mt st helens #percys missing #assumed dead #and she has to live with the guilt of leaving him behind for weeks #she had to deal with the crippling grief of him being gone. being dead.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 2)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

You tried to close the door quietly behind you, wincing everytime it creaked, but as you tiptoed through the foyer into the living room you quickly realized your stealth was of no use. Your mother sat in her chair in the corner of the room, flipping the page on whatever cheesy self-help book she was worshiping today. She looked up at you and then to the oversized clock on the wall pointedly.

“Really? Sitting up under a single lamp light?” You rolled your eyes. “What are you gonna say next, ‘where have you been young lady?’”

“Actually, I was just going to ask if you had a good night,” she said in her all-too-familiar-guilt-trip tone. “But since I’m apparently such a stereotype, maybe I should ask where you’ve been. I’ll be the overbearing mother you’ve made up in your head.”

You just sighed. “I’m not doing this with you, goodnight mom.”

“Don’t forget we’re having dinner at the island club tomorrow night!” She called after you. “Just you, me, and Chip.”

You winced. “I don’t know if the Island Club is really my vibe anymore, mom.”

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “The other 51 weeks of the year, you are welcome to walk around like you’re better than all of us. But this week is my week and I want to have dinner at the Island Club with my daughter and my fiancé.”

In your twenty years on earth, you’d had approximately one million fights with your mother. You were wise enough by now to know which ones you were going to lose.

You sighed in defeat, “Alright mom, I’ll be there.”

Like she said, it was just one week and then you could get the hell out of here. Thinking of the night you just had with a pang of sadness, you thought, this time maybe for good.

Two Years Ago…

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe said, beaming.

“Rafe what did you do?” You asked.

“Got you something,” he shrugged, his casual tone betrayed by the big, bright smile on his face, his dimples on full display. He looked so excited it made your heart swell.

“You got me a car?” You said in disbelief.

“Not just a car, your dream car!” He extended his long arms, displaying the vehicle like a Price-is-Right model.

“You actually bought me a car?” You said quietly, shaking your head in awe.

“Do you like it?��� He asked, now wringing his hands nervously. His sudden timidness made you weak, wanting to hold him in his vulnerability.

“Baby,” you said quietly before suddenly breaking out in a run toward him, leaping into his arms. Even in his surprise, he caught you, like he always did. 

You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as your arms and legs wrapped around him. He held you back so tightly, you thought he might never let go. 

“I love it,” you mumbled into his skin. “You have no idea.”

He pulled his head back to get a look at you. You had tears in your eyes as you beamed back at him.

“I love you,” you said before dropping a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You have no idea,” he said, before kissing you back harder. 

The kiss turned more passionate as he started walking the two of you toward the car, removing one hand from you to open the door to the back seat. He lowered you in slowly, both of you laughing into the kiss. You scooted backward to the other side of the back seat, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. For a moment, he just stood in the open door, taking you in. You giggled nervously under his hungry gaze.

“You gonna join me?” You asked, taunting him with the low, sexy voice you knew made him crazy.

“Just wanna look at you for a sec,” he explained. “Wanna remember.”

You leaned forward and started to crawl towards him, hands and knees sinking into the soft leather seat. 

“You have your whole life to look at me, baby,” you assured him. 

Once you were close enough to him, you stretched your neck forward and kissed him again, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the car with you. He gladly obliged and shut the door behind him. Once he was settled, you threw your leg over him and climbed in his lap, arms outstretched past either side of his head to hold onto the seat back behind him. 

“You're not gonna hit the road in the middle of the night and leave me here now that you’ve got your own ride?” He asked, close enough to your lips that you could feel his breath sweep across them as he talked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Unless you’re in the seat right next to me.”

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back before your lips met. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“I got you another gift,” Rafe said.

“Rafe,” you said, “you already got me a car. I don't know what could possibly top that.”

Removing one of his hands from your hips, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.

“Open it and find out,” he held the box out to you.

With wide eyes, you took what was clearly a jewelry box from him and opened it slowly. Rafe reached up to turn on the car light so you could better see what was inside. It was a dainty gold ring, twisting around itself to make a small knot right in the middle. It was simple, but so beautiful.

“It’s a promise ring,” he explained.

You watched him watching you, realizing he was nervous, afraid you were about to reject his gesture. You could tell by the look on his face that he had more he was struggling to say, so you silently reached out your hand and placed it on his cheek, letting him know you were listening, that he was safe.

He nuzzled his head into your soft hand and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he opened them into yours and took a deep breath.

“You are…everything,” he said, eyebrows knit together in sincerity. As if he could somehow look at you hard enough to make you understand. “I don’t care what our parents say, or what all the people on this fucking island say, you are it for me, y/n. I will love you forever. Even if they cut us off, if we have no money and have to live out of the back of this car, I don’t care, I want you. Forever.”

He searched your face for any sign that you’d reject him, or laugh at his earnest desperation. You’d never treated him like that before, but he had been raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness, and even with all the loyalty you’ve shown him, he couldn’t fight the thought that when he told you what he was really feeling, you’d shoot him down.

Instead, you simply said, “Well, am I going to have to put it on myself?”

He laughed, relief spreading through his chest. He took the box from you and removed the ring, slipping it on your left ring finger before placing a kiss over it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and looked at him hard, praying he’d believe you when you swore, “I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.”

His lower lip flinched slightly as he fought back the tears he could feel springing up. He kissed you quick, hoping you didn’t notice. You did notice, but you kissed him back to take his mind off of it, knowing how much he hates crying in front of people. You slid your hands back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently in appreciation as he moved his lips to your neck. 

“Don’t leave any marks,” you whined. “My mom…”

“You’re 18 now, baby, she can’t do shit,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on the tender spot at the base of your neck. 

“Yeah, except stop feeding me and kick me out of the house,” you protested, though not exactly pushing him away.

“Like I said, we’ll just live in this car,” he joked. 

“Or,” you said, pulling back from him to separate his lips from your skin before it could change color, “you could leave your mark somewhere she can’t see.”

With those words, you lifted your shirt over your head. Rafe watched hungrily, your words and movements making him grow harder than he already was. You smirked as you pressed down on him, making him hiss. Eyes locked to his, you reached back to unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide away as you revealed yourself to him slowly.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he took you in. He’d seen you naked countless times now, but the way he always looked at you like it was the very first time was the hottest thing in the world to you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” With those words, he sunk his head down and started pressing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts. 

“I love when you talk to me like that, baby,” you gasp and arch your back as he captures the sensitive skin just above your nipple between his lips and starts sucking, taking you up on your suggestion to mark you somewhere no one will see. 

 You grab the back of his neck for stability, lightly letting your painted nails sink into his skin, the blissful pain of it making his hips buck up into yours. You moan as his length presses perfectly against your clit. You’re so wet you wonder if it's soaked through to his jeans yet.

“You like this?” He asked before releasing his lips and sinking into a spot on your other breast to add to the masterpiece he was leaving on your skin.

“I love it,” You answered.

“It’s your day, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he told you.

“You always make me feel good,” you whimpered as you continued to writhe on him.

He pulled his mouth from you suddenly and moved his hands to your ass, holding you up so you couldn’t push down on him anymore. You pouted slightly, and he smirked at your neediness. 

“Today’s all about you,” he said. He moved you off of him and laid you down on the seat, kneeling so he could hover over you. He caged you in with an arm at either side of your head. You twisted your neck to look at his arm, admiring the veins that ran up the side, committing the sight to memory. You loved everything about your boyfriend’s body, but something about his arms really drove you wild. Impulsively, you leaned over and placed a kiss on the inside of his forearm, loving how soft his skin was. 

The gentleness of the moment made his skin break out in goosebumps and he looked down at you with hearts in his eyes. The only thing in the world he wanted at that moment was to make you feel how in love with you he is, so he lowered himself between your legs and got to work on your third gift of the day.

Now…

Rafe had two meetings today to sell some of the melted gold, both of which went exactly how he’d hoped. He didn’t understand how the high from the sale could wear off so quickly. So, like most nights, he found himself at the Island Club bar, three bourbons deep. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the conversation he just had with Topper about Sarah not answering his calls. 

“What a cuck,” he said to himself under his breath. 

Little did he know that just a few yards away, inside the club dining room, the girl he used to regularly ditch all of his friends for was sitting down to dinner.

You liked Chip just fine, he was a deputy at the sheriff’s department and though you had never been a huge fan of cops, he seemed to genuinely care about helping people. He made your mom happy, and she appears to have worked through some of the anxiety issues she had in your teens, which you were grateful for.

Even though you were tucked in a dark corner of the Island Club dining room, you and your mother still clocked all of the stares from nosy neighbors, wine moms, and kids you grew up with. It was like an Elvis sighting, after the wildfire of rumors that had engulfed the island after your disappearance two years ago. Chip, however, seemed to be none the wiser to your storied past. You didn’t know if your mom had told him all that had happened, and you kind of hoped she wouldn’t. He seemed like a simple guy with a simple view of the world, and you’d appreciate it if your mom would let him stay that way.

Chip was telling a story about one of his coworkers getting their arm stuck in the vending machine, when a commotion from outside the restaurant cut him off.

“I pay just as much as all of you assholes!” A man’s voice bellowed through the open windows.

Your heart froze and you closed your eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. When you looked up, you caught your mother’s glare, she had apparently placed the voice, too. 

A glass shattered, followed by the voice yelling, “take your fucking hands off me, douche bag!”

“I’m just going to…” you set your napkin on the table and pushed your chair back.

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “We’re having dinner.”

“I’m just going to make sure everything is okay,” you said, hoping she didn’t realize that you were trying to convince yourself you had a reason to go out there just as much as you were trying to convince her. 

“You’re not here for him,” she said. “You’re supposed to be here for me, for your family.”

Chip’s eyes darted quickly back and forth between you and your mother, totally lost. The two of you gave each other a look that clearly had years of history behind it, and he decided he might want to just stay in the dark.

“I’ll be right back,” you said definitively, standing from the table. Your mother sipped her wine bitterly as she watched you go.

You made your way out onto the patio, following the booming of Rafe’s voice over to the bar. He was face-to-face with another member, a middle aged man who was jabbing his finger into Rafe’s chest as he yelled at him.

“Everyone here is just trying to have a nice evening and you’re over here running your mouth,” the man spat.

Rafe shoved the man’s hand away from him and looked to the much younger woman who was standing behind him.

“I’m sorry for ruining your date with grandpa here, sweetheart,” he joked loudly. “If you ever want to be with a guy who can get it up without a truckload of Viagra, you give me a call, gorgeous.”

The man shoved Rafe and he stumbled backward, laughing, clearly drunk.

“Woah there cowboy,” Rafe chuckled. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we?”

He was being smug, dripping with arrogance, and it was making you sick. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You thought this time you’d be able to confront him, try to understand why he was treating people like this, but the twist of your stomach forced you away from the scene as you fled from the patio towards the beach.

Rafe was about ready to cock his fist back, too drunk to care about escalating the situation further, when he saw it again - a flash of long hair and a flowing skirt disappearing from view. He suddenly felt completely sober. He patted the guy on the back and threw back the last of his drink before following the mysterious figure down to the beach. 

You stood at the edge of the water, doubled over with your heels in your hand, trying desperately to catch your breath. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you should just keep your head down and act like the only thing that matters to you on this island is her wedding. But both of you knew that wasn’t true, that it could never be true, not when he’s here. Not when something has clearly changed him, and you can’t sleep at night not knowing what horrible thing could’ve happened to make him behave this way. Just because you buried your love for him, didn’t mean the ghost of it had stopped haunting you.

You composed yourself and decided to go back to dinner. You’d fake your way through the rest of the week. You’d lie low, send your mother on her honeymoon, and finally get off this island for good. But when you turned back toward the club, he was there. Standing ten-feet away, just watching you.

“It is you,” he whispered, the wind knocked out of him from the shock of seeing your face in the moonlight.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, but it doesn’t come out in the confident, casual way you had practiced for the last two years, preparing for the moment you’d inevitably see him again. Instead it’s meek, shaking with your unstable breath.

“What are you…” Rafe is speechless. For just a moment, he’s that soft, insecure boy you used to know. The boy you loved, who loved you desperately in return. He must catch the faint smile you can’t hold back, because his mouth slams shut and his jaw clenches. His wide eyes become steeley again as his shield flies back up.

“What are you doing here?” He practically spits.

“My mom is getting married,” you say, no smile gracing your lips anymore. “I thought you would’ve heard.”

“Been busy,” he shrugs. “Believe it or not I have actual shit going on.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “I can tell.”

“The fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He takes an angry step towards you.

“Just the way you were talking back there, and at your party the other night,” you say. “Looks like you’re the big man now.”

It was you at the party. Rafe shakes his head in disgust, this is the final confirmation he needed to make-up his mind about whether he’s pissed at you. He’d prepared for this moment too, not sure if when he saw you again, he’d want to kiss you or kill you. Right now he was leaning toward the latter.

“Yeah, maybe I am,” Rafe says. “Now that I don’t have all of you holding me back.”

There’s a flash of something you can’t quite place in his eyes. For just a moment, he’s not here, like he’s losing a battle to stay in the moment. You wonder what kind of demons are roaring in his mind. You wish you didn’t want so desperately to exorcise them.

“All of us?” You repeat his words back to him, wondering who else joins you in the club of people Rafe Cameron now hates. You look him up and down with soft, sad eyes. 

“What happened to you, Rafe?”

“I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, Y/N,” your name shoots off his tongue like a bullet, nothing like the way he used to coo it in worship when he held you, or moan it in awe when he was inside of you. “Why don’t you just fuck off back to wherever you’ve been. You don’t belong here anymore.”

You just look at him, head tilted as your narrow eyes size him up in a way that makes him feel like an exposed nerve. You know the second you get home tonight, the tears will come, but right now you put on a stoic demeanor to match his own. This was the opposite of the reunion you had dreamed of. You thought you’d be back in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone in the world, but instead you stand face-to-face with a total stranger.

You start to walk back up the beach in his direction, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobs as you get closer to him. Once you’re next to him, you look up into the blue eyes that you used to imagine your kids would have someday. So many things you’d wanted to say, hundreds of letters never sent, millions of tiny memories you’d hold onto forever, but now, with his frame looming over you, all you could think to say was,

“I hate your hair.”

And for the third time this week, he stood breathless as he watched you disappear.

(chapter 3)

a/n: THANK YOU so much for all the support on chapter one, I am actually blown away I did not think so many people would enjoy my words!! Special thank you to bestie @nadvs for all the inspo and advice!!! 🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #obx fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #obx smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fanfic #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

[loveshotzz]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do Perv!Eddie getting caught masterbating with his best friends stolen panties only to find out she’s as perverted as him? Please and thank you!

also- if you could add the fact that reader has stolen things from him too? thank you!

Love your work!! ❤️

OOOO THIS IS SPICY. Let me see what I can do for you bb 💞 I hope you like it!

Warnings: Masturbation both m and f. Perv!Eddie and Perv!Reader. MINORS DO NOT ENTER.

You watched Eddie frantically throw clothes around his room, shirts, pants, underwear.

“Where the fuck is it?” He mutters under his breath, dumping out his laundry basket all over the floor. His room looks like a bomb went off.

“What are you looking for?”

Eddie’s hunched over the pile of clothes on the ground, the bottom of his hellfire shirt rising up. Blue and white checkered boxes peak out the top of his tightly fitted jeans. Biting your bottom lip the sight makes your thighs press together.

God, you gotta get it together, he’s your best friend.

“My favorite Iron Maiden shirt, I haven’t seen it for like a week. I wanted to wear it to the show tomorrow.” His voiced is muffled as he moves to his small closet ripping everything out of there next.

Your eyes go wide at the mention of his Iron Maiden shirt. You had pocketed that shirt in your back pack last week while Eddie had been in the shower. Both of you had spent all day outside at Lovers lake, the heat of the sun making you both sweaty messes. There was something about Eddie’s musk that had always made your mouth water, you couldn’t help but turn into a thief when the opportunity presented itself.

On nights after the days where his fingers brushed against you more then normal or he used pet names a little too freely, you’d wrap it around your pillow using it to get yourself off. Imagining it was his cock you were bouncing on, his scent swirling around you made your fantasies seem real in the moment.

Heat rising to your cheeks you had to think of something quick. You couldn’t just let him destroy his room for something he was never going to find.

“Why not your AC/DC one? With the flames? That one’s cooler.” You try lamely, nervous fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“No, I want this one.” You knew once he made up his mind there was no going back. “I just don’t know where it is, I wore it to the Lake last week…” Eddie stands there looking up at the ceiling trying to jog his memory of its whereabouts. Index finger following an imaginary timeline.

Suddenly his dirty carpet is the most interesting thing in the world to you. Sweaty palms and rosy cheeks, if Eddie were paying more attention he’d see the guilt written all over your face.

The sound of Uncle Wayne opening the front door is your saving grace, using the distraction to make a quick exit you ignore Eddie’s confusion at your sudden need to leave.

You were going home and washing that shirt, you’d sneak it back into his room when he wasn’t home. He’d never know.

——

Eddie always had band practice on Friday’s the one day out of the week he didn’t take you home from school. It was the perfect time to do it, all you had to do was wait until Wayne went to work.

It sounded like a fool proof plan until you showed up that late afternoon and Eddie’s van was still parked in front.

After an internal battle you decide you’re already here and the shirt was clean in your hand. You just needed an excuse to give him as to why you had it.

The walk up to his front door is spent running through a list of reasons why, finally landing on accidentally grabbing it with a shirt that you had left here. It wasn’t a far off excuse, practically living here part time.

Digging the spare key he had given you out of your pocket, you let yourself in. It was something you did all the time, Eddie always playing his music too loud to hear you knocking.

Shutting the door behind you, it takes you a minute to realize how quiet the trailer is. Eddie’s van was here, Wayne was gone, usually your eardrums are threatening to rupture.

“Fuck— you like that?” Eddie’s breathy voice breaks through the silence followed by a low moan.

Your heart sinks, Eddie didn’t tell you band practice was cancelled because he was with a girl. A girl that was living out your fantasies.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you like how your best friend fucks you?”

His words confuse you, is he secretly fucking Gareth? You don’t have any control over your feet as you make your way to his room,curiosity getting the best of you.

Peaking through the crack in his door, nothing could prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Eddie was laid out on his bed, shirt lifted up just above his belly button with his pants shoved half way down his thighs. His eyes were closed, brows knitted together with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead causing his bangs to stick. Your eyes roam the happy trail that haunted your dreams following the dark length of hair to an even thicker darker bush at the base of it.

His cock was everything you had ever imagined it to be, even in his big hand it looked massive. You could see the glint of precum leaking from the tip as he continued to fist himself, his motions getting faster chasing his orgasm. Eddie was close and you couldn’t find it in yourself to walk away.

Something pink caught your eye in his other hand as he brought it up to his nose inhaling deeply.

“You smell so good y/n you gonna let me cum inside of you?”

When Eddie says your name it feels like your world stops. Watching him take the pink fabric from his nose bringing it to the head of his leaking cock, you realize that pink fabric was your underwear.

The panties you had been searching days for. Finally chocking it up to them falling into the dryer abyss even though you never remembered washing them. Here they were in Eddie’s possession wrapped around his dick ready to collect his cum.

The idea of Eddie stealing your dirty panties to get off to makes the wet patch in your underwear become almost unbearable. Shuffling your feet trying to gain friction you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

Eddie’s eyes snap open and meet yours when he hears you at his door way, but he’s too close to stop now. Eyes locked on yours, the idea of you watching him fuck himself in your panties sends him close to the edge. When his eyes leave your half lidded one’s and he see’s the Iron Maiden shirt clutched in your hand, it all comes together. Your strange behavior, the red in your cheeks, you were stealing his clothes too.

The realization mixed with the thought of you getting yourself off with his shirt has him spilling himself into the soft fabric of your panties. Eyes rolling in the back of his head, his whole body convulses with the intensity of the orgasm crashing through him. Your presence escalating everything, not even his own fantasies could come up with this. With his eyes still closed Eddie needs a minute to catch his breath, his fingers gripping tightly to your panties that were now dripping with his cum.

“I just came to return your shirt.”

Part Two

#request #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #kinktober

[javiscigarette]

Bad Mood

Joel x f!reader (pre/no outbreak)

Summary: Based on this ask (thank u nonnie)!! Joel punishes bratty reader that's it

Warnings: SMUT! NSFW 18+ no use of Y/N, established relationship, straight up filth not much else, dom!Joel brat!reader, spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, oral (m receiving)

Word count: 3k

A/N: Using this as my 450 follower celebration! I'm so grateful for everyone who's followed me and enjoyed my silly little fics. I love this community <3. Also, this is relatively short but I am already planning a part two to this so stay tuned hehehe. my masterlist

Joel knew you were in a bad mood the second you walked through the door. 

The door slams behind you and carelessly toss your keys on the little entryway table. You keep your headphones on as you kick off your shoes and stomp off to the bedroom, not even bothering to look at Joel who’s sitting on the couch in the living room not even six feet away. 

Joel stays silent as he watches you stride down the hall to the bedroom, wincing just slightly when he hears the bedroom door slam shut. 

You keep your music blasting as you immediately change into your comfy clothes. Today was a horrible day at work. Your boss has been breathing down your neck for the last two weeks about a project you're working on, nitpicking every single detail and telling you to make a million changes. And today, despite all the edits and changes she told you to make, she still picked it apart, telling you that you were better off restarting the whole thing. 

And now you were left with a day and a half to “fix” this project before it’s due. So yeah, you were in a bit of a bad mood. 

After changing, it’s straight to stress cleaning. With your headphones on, you storm back into the kitchen and start to pull out all of the cleaning supplies from under the sink. Your music is loud enough that you don’t hear Joel clearing his throat behind you. You only notice that he’s there whenever you stand up and turn around. He says something to you and looks at you expectedly, forcing you to stop your music. 

“What?” you snap at him, ripping out one of your ear buds. 

Joel raises his eyebrows at you and holds up his hands in innocence.  “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Your narrow your eyes at him because how dare he interrupt you right now with his genuine love and care for you. 

“No.” you reply firmly, putting your earbud back in. 

You go to start cleaning, but Joel is saying something else before you can even pick up the rag. 

You rip your earbud out again and actually snap at him this time with a “What Joel?!”  

Joel tilts his head with his eyebrows raised, giving you a silent warning to lose the attitude. 

But the last thing you need right now is someone else telling you what to do. 

“Can I please just clean the damn kitchen in peace?” you ask, your words biting a little harder than you intended but you don’t care. 

Joel stares at you for a good five seconds, his jaw subtly shifting and clenching as he grinds his teeth. 

“Okay.”

That’s all he says before turning away and walking out of the room. 

You immediately feel a pang of guilt seeing him walk away, but the anger is quick to wash it away and cloud your head again. 

You spend the next thirty minutes scouring the kitchen from top to bottom. Every cabinet door and every drawer you open is shut with a slam and you scrub the countertops so vigorously that your arm is starting to get sore. 

Thinking he’s given you enough time, Joel comes back in, standing near you as you scrub away at the spot of burnt on food on the stovetop. You can see him in your peripheral, standing a foot or two away from you but you ignore him. You already told him to leave you alone once. 

He stands there for a few moments, trying to get you to look over at him but he eventually gives up and just takes out one of your earbuds. 

The saying “seeing red” never made much sense to you until just now. 

“What the hell, Joel!” you shout, finally turning to face him. The anger boils up inside of you and you can feel your whole body heat up you try to snatch your earbud back from him but he’s faster than you and holds it up high to where you can’t reach. 

“Joel I’m so fucking serious right now, just leave me alo-” 

Joel takes out your other earbud and tosses them to the counter behind him before you can say anything else. 

“Joel!” you nearly scream, your face red hot with anger now. 

“Quit acting like a fuckin’ brat” Joel says quietly, his tone serious and stern.

“I’m not being a fucking brat, you’re the one annoying the shit out of me right now” 

Joel’s eyes narrow, trying to mask his shock at your attitude. You’re rarely ever this angry and you almost never take it out on Joel like this. 

“Drop this attitude right now and I’ll give you one more chance and act like you didn’t just fucking say that” Joel says, his voice audibly tenser. 

You roll your eyes and reach for your earbuds again, but again, Joel is faster than you and pins your wrist to the counter with his hand. 

“Joel, just fuck off” you mutter. His grip on your wrist is so tight that your fingers are starting to tingle from the restricted blood flow. You look up at him and immediately realize how fucked you are. His face is hard as stone, a deep frown tugging at his lips while he stares holes into your own eyes. 

“Okay, baby. You want to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like a fuckin’ brat” Joel spits before tugging harshly on your wrist and dragging you out of the kitchen. 

“Joel, I am not in the mood right now” you say as he leads you to the living room, nearly pulling your arm out of socket as he does. 

“I don’t give a fuck.” Joel says firmly. He stops near the couch and release his grasp on your wrist. 

“Now get on your knees and shut that mouth up with my cock.” 

You snort at his words and laugh right in his face. 

“You think I’m going to blow you right now? You’re the one who should be apologizing to me” you snarl, accusingly poking him in the chest to emphasize your words.  

Joel is still as a rock as he stares at you again, the darkness in his eyes already starting to break down some the resolve inside of you. 

“You’re gonna regret that, baby.” Joel whispers from behind clenched teeth. 

Without another word, Joel grips your wrist once again and steps towards the couch. He sits down and pulls you until you’re standing in front of him before pulling down your shorts and panties in one go. He then pulls you down into his lap and even though you try to fight back, Joel is a lot stronger than you and easily maneuvers you until you’re on your stomach laying across his lap with your face pressed against the couch cushion and your ass in the air. Joel keeps a firm hand on the back of your neck, pinning your head to the couch with your face smushed against the cushion. 

He uses his other hand to rub your ass, the soft shorts you put on earlier easily riding up and exposing most of your skin. You try to wiggle out of his grasp but there’s no use. He’s not letting go of you now. 

“How many do you think you deserve?” Joel asks, his voice steady and calm again now that he has you like this. 

You don’t say anything, just humph and try to squirm out from underneath his hold again. Bad idea. The grip on the back of your neck tightens and then the room is filled with the loud crack of his hand coming down heavy on your ass. 

You yelp in surprise, tingles of pain radiating from the spot here he spanked you. Your determination to keep up this attitude is quickly crumbling. Joel knew exactly how to put you back in your place. 

“I think at least 10” Joel says before delivering two more harsh smacks to both cheeks. You bite back a whimper, still enough willpower to try and not let him see how affected you actually are. “Starting now.” 

Your eyes roll back, and your brows furrow deeply as he gives you another hard spank. The moan in your throat comes out through your nose as a sharp exhale as you keep wiggling in his lap. 

Joel’s hand comes down on you again, the loud sound echoing in the otherwise silent house. “And we’re gonna start over if you don’t count them for me.” 

Another spank has your eyes squeezing shut. “That’s three then” you pant.  

“Nope, we’re starting from the beginning” Joel says before connecting his palm to your ass again. “That’s one.” 

You try twisting out of his grip once again and his next smack is even harder. 

“Stop trying to escape or I’m gonna add more. Now count for me” 

You stop wiggling, slowly starting to accept defeat. 

“Two.” 

Joel hums in approval and lands another harsh smack to your cheek. 

“Three” you say obediently, still trying to cover the tremor in your voice. You’re still fuming and the fact that he has you pinned down like this, completely unable to move is fueling your fire. 

Another smack.

“Four.” 

By the nineth, you’re clinging to the last shred of your control. Your cheeks are burning hot, your skin raised in the shape of Joel’s handprint. By now, you can feel him fully hard pressing against your abdomen. 

“Nine.” 

Joel can hear the tremble in your voice now, clear as day. He silently rubs his palm over your cheek, soothing the warm, swollen skin. 

His soft touch is gone as soon as it came, his fingers quickly finding your slit instead. With no warning, he plunges two fingers inside of you, easily curling his fingertips against your g-spot. 

“Yeah, I knew you’d be fuckin’ soaked” Joel says with a breathless chuckle as he keeps prodding against your spot, the lewd sounds of his fingers moving inside you echoing around the room. You cry out in surprise as Joel relentlessly punches his fingers against the spot that sends massive waves of hot liquid pleasure up your spine. You try to swallow your moans, still refusing to give in to him all the way and bite your lip until you taste the metallic tang of blood.  

“Just give it up, baby. I know you want to” Joel coos. And he’s right, you want nothing more than to just give it up and let him put you in your place. But you can’t give up just yet. This wasn’t the first time Joel has punished you and every time he does, there’s something inside you, an urge to find out how far Joel will take your punishments. 

So, you shake your head as much as you can with his hand still holding your neck against the couch cushion.

 Joel clicks his tongue disapprovingly letting you know that you made another bad choice. You suppress a groan when he pulls his fingers out of you. He takes his hand off your neck and grips both of your cheeks and spreads you open. You quietly hiss at the bite of the cold air against your burning wet heat. 

“Such a pretty pussy” Joel whispers as he leans over to get a good look. It takes everything in you not to moan and wiggle your hips in his face as he keeps you spread open and inspects you. 

Then there’s the sound of Joel spitting behind you. You swallow thickly, pushing down another moan once you feel the warm liquid dribble onto your skin and slide down between your cheeks. Your chest tightens at the sensation, and you bite your cheek as a hot wave of arousal crashes down over you. 

He sits up straight again, his hand quickly coming back to wrap around the back of your neck and hold you in place again. With his other hand, he finds your puckered hole and rubs over it with the pad of his thumb, using his spit as lube. You let out one small whine when the tip of it catches on your rim. 

“C’mon, angel. Lemme hear those pretty sounds and I’ll let you cum” Joel presses.

You can’t possibly hold out any longer. Not with your skin hot and burning from your spanking, his fingers pushing hard against your g-spot, his thumb teasing your asshole and the big, strong hand holding you down by your fucking neck. 

There’s nothing you can do to stop the loud moan that tumbles past your lips as he moves his fingers reach deeper inside of you until he presses a spot even deeper inside you. 

“There it is” Joel sighs, his chest swelling with pride as you tremble and start to fall apart underneath him. “That’s a good girl.” 

He stays in position for a little longer, your pretty sounds filling the room as he gives you exactly what you need. You’re already close because of course Joel knows how to get you there in just a couple of minutes. He knows your body almost better than his, knows what makes you tick and recognizes all of your signs. 

So, it’s not surprising that he hears the specific moans and can feel the way that you clench around his fingers, wordlessly letting him know that you’re about to reach the edge. 

And it shouldn’t be surprising when he suddenly slips his fingers out of you and lands a final smack to your ass, heavier and louder than all the others, but it still makes you cry out. You whimper at the loss of his touch and the way the burning pain radiating from his hits mixes so deliciously with the pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“Count, angel” Joel says calmly, giving you a friendly reminder that you’re still in trouble.  Five minutes ago, you would’ve ripped his head off for saying that. But obeying is a lot easier when you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm. 

“Ten. Ten, sir. Thank you” you mewl. You know that he’s probably not going to let you cum soon. You’ve been here enough times to know that much. Still, you wiggle your hips, hoping that he’d go easy on you and slide his fingers back inside you. But Joel is not known for going easy on anyone.

“Good girl using your manners” Joel praises. “But you were a very bad girl earlier. Do you think bad girls deserve to cum?” he asks, quickly washing away any of your hopes of an orgasm in the near future. 

Joel doesn’t say anything else as he maneuvers you again, pushing your legs to the ground and holding down on your shoulders until you’re kneeling in front of him while he remains seated on the couch. 

You look up at him with wide eyes, your chest heaving as your knees dig into the hardwood floors underneath you as you stay still and quietly wait for his instructions. You have no fight left in you, completely surrendering to him just in hopes of being able to cum at least once tonight. 

Joel smiles down at you and cups your jaw. You immediately nuzzle against his palm and bat your eyelashes innocently at him. 

“Now suck my cock like a good girl I know you are.” 

You follow Joel’s command easily and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull down his pants and boxers to his mid-thigh, his hard cock slapping up against his lower abdomen. 

With no other preface, you take him in your mouth, your lips wrapped around his tip as you roll your tongue all around his sensitive head. And apparently that’s more than enough teasing for Joel because his hand comes up to the back of your head and forces you down his length. 

You gag at the sudden intrusion and try to quickly recover, not wanting to give Joel another reason to punish you more. His hand remains heavy on your head, holding you in place with his cock down your throat as you drool around him for a few more seconds, your cunt throbbing between your legs as he uses you. 

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out your smart little mouth” Joel huffs. 

You give a small nod, and he lets go of your head, letting you pull off for a breath. He watches you intently as gasp for air, smirking when you start to cough. 

“My cock too big for you, angel?” Joel teases as he brings a thumb to the corner of your mouth to wipe up your drool before pushing it back in your mouth. You shake your head no and Joel smiles at you and removes his thumb so you can talk. 

“No, sir. I can take it” you reply breathlessly. 

“Yeah, I know you can, angel. Now show me how good you can be for me.” 

With another small nod you take him back in your mouth. His hand returns to the back your head and he rolls his hips up, pushing himself down your throat.

You stay as still as possible, keeping your mouth and throat open and letting Joel fuck your throat. You’ve had him in your mouth almost every day since the first month you met him, but your jaw already starts to ache like it’s impossible to get used to the sheer size of his cock. Drool starts to spill out of the corner of your mouth again and you shamelessly let it run down your chin.

Joel shows no mercy, bucking up into you like he’s completely disregarding the fact that you need to breathe. But you know he’s not. You know he has a careful eye on you, watching for signs that he’s pushing you too far. 

“Takin’ me so well, angel. Knew you could be good for me” Joel grunts, encouraging you to keep going as the hand on your head briefly pets your hair. 

All the anger that had been building for the past couple of days has dissipated. All the stress about your job and your ridiculous boss were miles away and now the only thing you're thinking about is Joel's thick cock down your throat.

You stay there for what feels like forever and allow him to use you as he pleases. Your neglected pussy clenches desperately around nothing, slick leaking down your thighs because how could you not be turned on with Joel using you like his personal fucktoy. 

You’re now drooling everywhere, absolutely soaking his cock as you breathe heavily through your nose, your eyelids heavy. And as much as Joel wants to continue to fuck your mouth until your jaw breaks, he can’t hold back his own pleasure for much longer. 

After a couple more thrusts down your throat, he abruptly pulls out and His hand is a blur as you watch him fist himself for a couple of seconds until he starts to cum. His moans and little whimpers send fire straight to your core as he paints your face with hot ropes of cum. He’s messy with it, letting it get everywhere, your chin, your mouth, your cheeks, and your hair. You mewl quietly and press your thighs together searching for any sort of friction on your dripping pussy as Joel marks you, claiming you as his.  

You patiently wait for him come back down, listening his quiet groans as he pumps out every drop. 

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he leans back against the couch and drops his hand from your head again. 

“You look so pretty all covered in my cum, angel” Joel says with a lopsided smile. You smile sweetly back at him, your eyelashes fluttering against your flushed cheek. He swipes a thumb through the mess on your cheek and slides it past your lips. You suck his thumb clean, swallowing down everything he gives you. 

He revels in the sensation of you suckling on his thumb for a little bit before slipping it out with a soft pop. You look up at him, waiting for his next instruction with the hopes of having your own release soon. 

“Knew you could be good, angel. Now go finish cleaning the kitchen and then I’ll think about letting you cum.” 

Your jaw drops as you stare up at him with wide eyes. Joel just laughs cruelly at your expression. 

“But...but Joel, please I want-”

“Should’ve thought about that earlier, angel. You know bad girls don’t get to cum. Now get up and finish cleaning” Joel says with a sickeningly sweet tone. You blink at him a few more times hoping he’d miraculously change his mind. 

But he doesn’t. So, with your attitude completely gone now, you follow his directions and shakily stand up. You give him one more pathetic, pleading look but he just smirks back at you. Accepting defeat, you turn and walk back to the kitchen.  

“And don’t even think about cleanin’ your face yet” Joel calls out from behind you. 

Ty for reading hugs and smoochies for all of you!!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller one shot #the last of us #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #javiscigarette

[lovelyverosika]

Angels going crazy…crazy…is he angry maybe…maybe

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader

Part 4 —> Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warning: swearing, slight violence, mention of suicide, suggestive ;)

3rd POV:

Meanwhile in the courtroom:

Everything was quiet. All eyes on them. Adam stood in front of Monika with an unreadable expression on his face. "Sir, what are you doing?", Lute said as she came down the podium. Sera looked unsure as well and Charlie looked shocked or to say it better betrayed. Monika knew that redemption was possible the whole time and didn’t tell her and on top of it she’s not the nice demon she acted to be.

"Leave now.", said Adam with a stern voice. Monika raised an eyebrow. "Why?", she asked. "I said leave.", Adam said again, this time with a louder voice. "Naw, are you hurt because your sweet wife is actually a dumb loser bitch?", Monika said with a mocking grin. "I SAID LEAVE, YOU DUMB BITCH OR ELSE I BEAT YOU DOWN THE HOLE YOU CAME FROM MYSELF!", Adam basically screamed at her. Monika looked at him with widen eyes. "Whoa dude, chill.", said Monika with a slight scared expression on her face. "Enough is enough.", Adam said while grabbing Monika roughly and pushing her down the portal to hell. "I’m so sorry for all this mess.", said Charlie as she grabbed Vaggies hand and left for the portal as well. Without saying another word Adam flew out of the courtroom, leaving everyone either confused or shocked.

The streets of heaven were unusually quiet and the angels seem to be in some kind of distress. Why? Because of none other than the first man. The last time they saw him in such an angry state was when Y/N left heaven for 2 weeks for business. Right now he wanted to be alone to clear up his mind or at least collect his thoughts. He really hoped Emily didn’t took Y/N to their shared home, he doesn’t want to get seen in such a vulnerable state at all costs after all he was THE Adam, THE first man. He let out a sigh of relief when he opened the door and everything was quiet. Immediately he went into their shared bedroom and threw his mask on the floor. With a heavy sigh searched for something in the closet of his wife. After a few minutes he found it and couldn’t help but to crack a small smile. It was a stuff bunny, which resembles Y/N.

On their first valentine’s day Y/N has gifted it to him, of course he acted all rough and tough before actually accepting the gift. What would the other angels think if they saw THE first man being all infatuated because of a simple stuff bunny. Behind closed doors he let his facade fall together with his mask since he knew how sensitive Y/N was and how fast she got insecure about those kind of things. Loving kisses and lots of sweet, teasing words were shared that evening but no one needs to know how smitten he actually is. He lied down on her side of the bed, inhaling her comforting smell. He didn’t know how to feel, he still had mixed feelings about what he found out. Out of exhaustion he then fell asleep.

-time skip-

It was early in the morning when Y/N came home, she slept over at Emily’s since she thought it would be the best to give Adam some time. She couldn’t help but to be scared. Adam hated sinners but she changed and redeemed herself and when you think about it there are demons who did much worse than she did. Of course she regretted throwing away her previous life but the past can’t be changed. Everything here in heaven is different now, she finally found someone who makes her (after) life worth living for. Guilt flooded her mind, she only had herself to blame but she couldn’t just causally tell him that she used to be a demon, sadness and fear were one of her most dominant emotions.

Controlled by fear she only does things with a small chance of turning out bad, which lead to her missing out a lot of things since her youth. Adam always gave her a slight push to try out as much as possible as long she’s not too uncomfortable. The outcome was pretty satisfying to her, she tried out lots of new things and they even went to a concert together. Sure it was overwhelming at first but in the end she enjoyed it even more than he did. She smiled at the memory as she walked towards the bedroom door.

She took a deep breath as she opened the door with shaky hands but she relaxed a bit as she saw Adam still sleep. She walked up to him and smiled, he held the stuff bunny she gifted him close to his chest, that must be a good sign, right? Careful not to wake him she kissed his forehead and left the bedroom to prepare some breakfast. Even if he’s going for the divorce she wanted to show him her love and appreciation for one last time.

Right when she finished his favourite breakfast he came out of the bedroom. He sat down in front of her without saying anything, which made Y/N feel even more unsure and nervous than before. "Redemption…huh.", were the first words he said. "Well yes and I’m so sorry for not telling you..I just thought you would like leave me if I told you. And I know you don’t really like demons but I only got to hell because I thought suicide was the answer, which obviously isn’t true, so I’m not a murder or anything. But if you want to leave me I can totally understand that and I’m not mad or anything just a bit sad but-"

Adam interrupted her: "Sheesh babe chill, if you only were this talkative in bed..just kidding this is serious. I forgive you after all how can I stay mad at you when you’re my sweet wifey. Of course you were an asshole for not telling me but you’re still you. Damn I sound cheesy right now." With a loud happy squeal Y/N basically threw herself on Adam and hugged him tightly as they now lay on the floor. "Ouch fuck!", he said while patting her back. Y/N mumbled a quiet sorry before giving him a quick peck on his cheek. "So are we going like fuck now?", he said with a playful smirk. "Adam.. we’re having a wholesome moment right now.", Y/N whined before gently punching his shoulder. They spend the whole afternoon cuddling and just appreciating each other’s affection.

Later that day when the sun went down Adam took Y/N to her favourite flower garden. No one else was there just them. Suddenly Adam got on his knees, leaving Y/N confused and a bit excited. "I’m not good with words, babe but when I say I love you I really mean it and I know we’re already married but will you marry me? I wanna marry the other part of you as well..wanna make you all mine.", he said, leaving Y/N stunned. "Yes, yes and yes!", she answered, touched by his sweet word. Without saying anything else they kissed deeply with the sun setting down behind them.

They spent the rest of the night underneath their sheets naked while loving each other passionate and deeply.

The End<3

A/N: Looking back I never thought that anyone would read this fanfic, which is based on one of my delusional daydreams. The amount of support I got really touched me. That’s why I decided to continue this small Adam x reader series. I really hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for everything<3

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Consequences | One

Word Count: 4.9k~ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, dark, medieval-canon sexism, heavy dub-con/noncon, mean Aemond, manipulation, abusing power, gore, blood, violence, major angst, oral (m receiving), Aemond being a possessive horny weirdo with a power complex, a dash of religious guilt if you blink

Series Masterlist

It was then the Prince had insisted that he had wanted her for himself. For her maidservant duties of course. 

The other maidservants were delighted with the new gossip, tittering amongst themselves at the reasoning that the One-Eyed Prince had taken a special interest in the new maidservant. They’d come up with all sorts of reasons. 

Perhaps it was because of her pliant, quiet nature and she could slip into the chambers largely unnoticed and one wouldn’t be able to truly see her presence until she spoke. The other women had often described her as such. That she was like a shadow, silent, but always looming behind someone else. That she was like a breeze, gentle and discreet, as every maidservant should be in the presence of her master.

Or perhaps, they speculated, that it was because of another, darker reason. That Prince Aemond intended to make some fun for himself and torture the poor girl with his mere presence and shrinking stare with his one good eye, the other sapphire one on full display, rooting fear into the shy, young thing. That he wanted someone to torment, as he had so often been tormented himself and found the power behind it exhilarating.

Nobody could have expected the true reasoning behind his newfound desire for her company. Not even she herself. But the other maidservants were at least grateful they no longer had to enter his chambers.

Having only Prince Aemond to run after was a nice change of routine, albeit a strange one. For a man who had requested she be at his beck and call, he was rarely ever in his chambers past the morning. Usually, he could be found in the training yard for hours on end, and it occurs to her that this is how he’s managed to build the form he has, by mercilessly pushing himself to his limits for hours everyday. It must be hard work, she thinks to herself. 

He would only return in the early evening, to prepare himself for supper and then once again later for his bath and then bed. It was a rigorous routine, but it was nice to have some consistency in her life for a change. 

One morning after placing her week’s wages into the pocket within her pillowcase, she smoothes down her apron over her maidservant dress, intending later to send some of the copper coins to her young siblings, for without their parents to provide, as the eldest it landed to her and her alone to care for them. Everyday she thinks of them and how they had begged her to not leave them in the care of the smelly widow from next door after their father had finally succumbed to illness. Her younger brother had stomped his feet, with each thump he would say she smells like cabbages and the young woman would bite back her laugh, tell her brother that he was to be polite to their neighbour and that he was not to mess with the purple plants at the front of her home, or else she’d have him for supper.

She’d kissed her younger sister, the middle child, but several years younger than her, on the crown of her head and gave her a sad smile, apologising that such responsibility had fallen onto her at such a young age. Her sister had given her a tight hug, not wanting to play the big sister and fall into the endless cycle of domestic prison that could be seen once the eldest had disappeared. But she’d eventually relented and let her older sister depart for her new position in King’s Landing. With a warm wave, she’d boarded the stuffy carriage with other smallfolk, using all of her coin for the passage there and bid them goodbye.

She said she would come back for them.

And at the time she meant it.

It filled her stomach with dread and fear, to know she may never see them again, doomed to live her life in the manner of which she was born as a peasant to do. To do the same dirty, back-breaking work, day in and day out, for the same measly copper she was paid until the day her legs gave out. Or perhaps until they found no more use for her.

At least she could give them funds, she thought. 

Only a week had gone by, but she felt as if she could walk the short distance to his chambers blindfolded. She always knocked, but in the middle of the day, he was never there. So when she swings the chamber door open and shut behind her, she goes about her usual duties with a contented sigh. 

His chambers were usually always clean and not so much in need of excessive housekeeping. Once his bedsheets were made, the cotton taut to the corners of the mattress, she moves onto her cleaning duties. The fireplace needed a good dusting, so she takes her outer skirt and tucks it into her apron to keep it out the way and turns up her sleeves over her elbows. She’s used to getting dusty and grubby in her work, but fireplace work with soot and the burning stench is possibly her least favourite.

Suitably covered in soot, she continues to sweep up the black dust into the bucket beside her, wiping her face with her clean forearm, fingers too dirty to brush that stray curl from her face, so it hangs there annoyingly. 

“Working hard as always, my lady?”

His voice makes her hairs stand up on end and had she not been head first in the fireplace, covered in soot and blackened ash at her cheeks, she might have been less embarrassed. But her cheeks flush at her dirtied appearance and she is immediately stood to attention, brushing whatever she can off her apron.

“Your grace, I apologise for my appearance” she blubbers hurriedly, clearly distressed.

Aemond stands at the doors and she is amazed to find out that she didn’t even hear them open in the first place. He must have light footing, which surprises her since she has seen him train so aggressively and knows that hefty, adept and quick skills are needed for such activities. He wears his usual black leather doublet, hands behind his back as if he is hiding something and that signature lob-sided smirk he seemed to wear whenever he had found his little maidservant in his chambers. 

She is now accustomed to his trained silences in between conversations and has come to understand that it is because he is thinking so deeply about something that his mouth cannot move at the same time. And yet, he stands, basking in the uncomfortable feeling he gives her, rather enjoying it and letting his eye wander over her. He pauses and smiles wider at seeing her outer skirt tucked into her apron, showing the cream skirt underneath and when she notices, she quickly plucks it out and lets it fall around her ankles. 

Aemond lets the chamber doors close behind him, striding past her for the side table where the wine decanter sits. He moves past her with such speed that the stray curled strand of hair wafts a little in the still air. She cannot deny the aura this man has and the sheer authority he gives off, despite not being the first born of the King and Queen. Every time he enters the room, he commands the space and everyone in it with little but his gaze and even now, she stands where she had been, dirtied hands clasped before her, waiting for him to address her, command her, anything.

Emptying the first cup of wine, he sighs, tongue darting out to fetch the stain of it from his lips and he looks upon the petite little maidservant, waiting patiently.

“Continue” 

She need not be told twice. Instead of tucking her dress back into her apron, she folds it behind her as she kneels before the fireplace once again, collecting the ash and old logs and filling her bucket with them, replacing them with new ones for later in the evening when the fire will be lit.

Aemond thrives in her obedience. The way she just does as she is told without speaking. So polite, he thinks. So as he sits in his armchair, shamelessly watching her as she replaces the logs, he finds he cannot tear his eye away from her profile, how soft her features are for someone who works doing such arduous and menial tasks everyday. He thinks her hands must be calloused, but when he looks upon them, they look so soft.

She had a profile that would rival the ladies at court. If he told her to wear the right dresses, hold her head high, keep her mouth shut, she could be his lady.

But he will certainly not say such things to her.

It may give her ideas above her station.

As she sweeps the soot off the tiles, he watches the way her body moves with the effort, the way her lips are parted in concentration. Such little, pink lips. 

He taps his finger against the cup, biting on his cheek when he feels the pained strain of arousal in his breeches. Such an innocent little maidservant, obedient and pliant. He knew from the moment he saw her what to do with her. What he could do with her. The week following their first meeting, Aemond had barely had his cock from his hand, tugging it as he thought of the way she always calls him ‘your grace’ with a flush to her cheeks. The way her eyelashes flutter when she strikes a match to light his candles. And today, seeing how she is dirtied and bent over the fireplace, he thinks why wait, he could just have her right there. Why wait.

The question becomes more difficult to answer the more he looks at her.

She stands with the bucket heavy in her hands and strides towards the door.

“Wait”

And his cock twitches in his breeches when she does, looking back at him with those eyes, the ones he imagines glazed over with lust, looking up at him as he fucks her. His tongue pokes his cheek as he stands, taking his time while walking towards her and he doesn’t miss the way her grip tightens around her clasped hands out of nervousness. 

He scans her face as he stands before her, blackened soot smeared across one of her cheeks, making the colour of her eyes look as if they are illuminated by light.

He swears he could spill right into his breeches as his hand reaches out to her cheek and her lips part to let a puff of surprised air out. His thumb brushes her cheek, wiping away the soot and he finds his own lips part at the feeling of her warm skin against his hand. 

Although his touch is warm, she can feel something akin to fear pool in her gut and something else she does not quite understand. A shiver also runs down her spine when his hand twists that stray curl between his fingers, as if intrigued by her.

She can quite literally feel her lungs contract when his thumb brushes against her bottom lip, barely breaching them, but collecting the wetness that sits at the waterline. He watches her little pink mouth, reddened and oh-so desirable. He wonders what her mouth would feel like wrapped around his cock, fingers threaded in her hair to guide the rhythm to his liking. Would she like it? Would she swallow his spend like the good little maidservant she is? Was she a maiden? Aemond knew she was. And for some reason, it made him want her even more, knowing that no other man has had her, or would ever have her like he wanted to. Like he would.

Her eyes never leave him the entire time, frozen in place, pupils shaking and breath slow, quiet and scattered. Aemond wonders for a moment if she is standing there, cunny wet at the thought of him, at his actions. What would her slick taste like mixed with his? He finds he can't wait to find out.

She breathes again when he steps back, drawing his fingers away from her skin, leaving behind the hotness of his touch.

“Leave”

Is all he commands. She swallows thickly, really processing what had just happened. But she takes her chance when he has turned around to refill his cup, the bucket clanging in one hand as she allows the chamber door to shut behind her.

Should she tell someone? Hedi perhaps? Should she tell them that she fears that Prince Aemond has unclean intentions, but she fears even more if that assumption is even warranted. He had not been unkind to her, nor had he been particularly kind in any way either. But he had no need to be, she was a lowborn servant and he was a Prince of the realm.

She could not disappoint her siblings by risking this job and not sending them money. Risking their lives for a silly little thought of Prince Aemond’s intent with her? Based on no real evidence?

She couldn’t.

So she steadied her breath and instead resumed her duties, largely ignoring that gnawing pit in her stomach. There was a bad feeling around all this, and she couldn’t help but feel it deep in her bones.

She should have listened to her gut. She now realises.

Having lit the fireplace for his return after supper, she sat on the cold, flagstone floor with a needle and thread in one hand and one of his black doublets in the other, fixing the frayed hemming. The heat of the fire licked at the side of her face, warming her soft features as her fingers delicately did their work, faintly humming the only song she knew the words to in her head.

Aemond had come back to his chambers in a mood, quickly shutting the door behind him so hard that it seemed to rattle the very Keep. At once, her wide eyes looked up and she stood to attention, hands clasped as usual. A timid ‘your grace’ came from her lips, softer and quieter than she realised. 

He looked absolutely livid, shaking with rage, fists clenched so hard that the knuckles were white and pale. His mouth was taut in a thin line and even his scar managed to look angrier beneath the leather of his eyepatch, his one good eye was still, unnaturally so. His chest inflated with silent breathing, trying to calm himself down, but she could tell he was still angry. In the several weeks she had been attending to him, she’d come to realise the depth of his frustrations for various reasons, but never daring to step beyond her station to ask why.

She breathed as quiet as she could, as if she were in the dark and someone dangerous was looking for her. For a moment, his eye flitted to the floor and then back to her and she thought he was looking at the doublet she was fixing, but it took her a moment to realise he’d been looking at her, dragging his gaze over her form. This fact alone sent gooseflesh on her arms and a shiver down her spine, unable to tell if this feeling was fear or not.

With a low hum, he stalked over to the side table for a cup of wine as he often did, thinking that he would dismiss her shortly, not knowing the aching arousal that he was trying with all his might to hold back. He stood for a moment, not saying anything as he sipped the spiced wine, allowing himself to decide what to do. She was right here, his obedient little thing, nervous with gooseflesh on her skin, cheeks a dusty pink. 

He turned around to look upon her, still at war with himself.

Out of sheer nervousness, her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

And that’s when Aemond decided. He needed to have a taste of the little maidservant. Or rather she would have a taste of him.

He stood before her, tall, broad and all encompassing, and she directed her eyes to him, still waiting to be addressed. He simply glared down at her, as if still angry, but in truth he was holding so much back, the hold he had on his own reins were slipping by the second with every breath the little maidservant let free. He finished his cup of wine, sighing as he looked upon her. 

“Take your braids out” he commanded. 

She blinked for a moment, unsure if she had heard him correctly. But when he raised an eyebrow, she took a steadying breath and reached behind her, not one to refuse a Prince and a passionately angry one at that, she pulled the two pins that kept her braids in place away and tucked them into her apron. She looked down as she began to unravel them, one by one, the hair coming apart in waves around her shoulders. Once all the hair was freed, Aemond hadn’t moved an inch and she flicked her hair over her shoulders to run down her back.

Aemond sighed quietly, looking over her in this new state, hair loose and shockingly casual. He was intrigued to see that the rest of her hair, like the wayward curl at the side of her face, was also wavy, possibly from the braids she’d put in everyday. And he wondered if the beautiful patch of hair that framed her cunny would be the same. He hoped so. And he wondered what the heady scent of her sex would be like, if it would be addictive and once he’d had it, would he be able to stop?

She stood there, eyes averted to the fire and Aemond watched as the flames danced off the colour of them. His breath shuddered with anticipation, watching her pulse thrum in her neck quickly.

Placing the empty cup on the mantle, he cannot hold back any longer.

“Kneel”

She looks at him again, now her eyes spell confusion. Does he want her to kneel to prove her obedience? She doesn’t know. 

Her lips part, “Pardon me, your grace?” she says in a whisper. 

“I will not ask twice” he barks back almost immediately.

She swallows thickly and smoothes her hand over her apron, tucking the dress beneath her knees as she obeys, slowly sinking back to the floor. She clasps her hands before her, not sitting back on her feet, eyes trained to one corner of the room to ignore the fact that Aemond’s thighs are right before her. She can feel her heart thumping in her chest and she is sure he can hear it as well. It was like she was hiding, waiting for someone to come and find her.

She flinches when she feels his thumb and forefinger grasp her chin, the touch is light but determined and he pulls her head up to look at him. From this angle, Aemond can see all her delicate features and with her lips parted, he sees the wet inside of her pink mouth, warm and inviting. All for him. He can feel his cock needing relief in the tight confines of his breeches and the urge is beginning to overpower him.

“You are my good little maidservant, are you not?” he asks, voice low and commanding.

She can feel her breathing struggling against the front of her dress and she dare not look away.

Finding her voice, she can all but whisper, “Yes, your grace”

He hums lowly, his thumb travelling up to her lips, dipping the tip of it between her lips. His fingers still cradle her soft jaw, keeping her where he needs her, while the flat part of his thumb finally slips across the warm muscle of her tongue. Aemond holds back the desire to outright moan at the feeling of it against his skin, collecting the wetness of her saliva against it, moving forward to completely allow his thumb to be enveloped by her hot mouth.

All the while, she keeps her eyes on him, afraid to look anywhere else. She feels strange, like a constant chill is making its way around her body, overtaking every nerve and replaced with a kind of dark, gnawing feeling. It halts in her gut, where she feels it the heaviest. 

After a moment, he pulls his thumb free and smears her saliva over her lips, making them glisten. He wonders if his spend would look as good as this smeared all over them. If she would be good, and dart her tongue out to lap it up.

Powerless to hold back any longer, Aemond hands move to the laces of his breeches, his pupil blown wide with lust at the innocent confusion on her face. 

“Now sweet girl” he says, the name making her hairs stand up on end, “will you be good for me”

Again, not a question, more a demand. And she is so shaken, all she can do is nod. 

“Have you been with a man, sweet girl” he asks, as he pulls his cock from its confines, using his hand to give himself a few pumps, the tip, red and glistening with precum. He already knows the answer. Just wants to hear her say it.

She shakes her head softly, “No…your grace” she answers with a shake in her voice. She tries to avert her eyes from this member, hard to attention right before her.

One corner of his lips turns up at her bashful nature. One hand threads through her hair, right at her neck, not tugging but not letting go either. She gasps at the action, now unable to move her head. 

“Good”

He holds his cock in one hand, aching to bury himself in her mouth. But he holds his animalistic desire back, for the sake of not scaring her too much.

“Open your mouth”

She obeys, pushing her embarrassment aside for the sake of politeness to her master. Her lips part to open her mouth, still semi-unsure of what he will do, her innocence skewing the reality of what's happening to her.

“Wider” he says, now just a low whisper, “That’s it, sweet girl” he coos as she does so.

She cannot say she has seen a man’s parts before and now that she has, if he does intend to do what she thinks, it’s unknown if it will even fit. The thickness of it combined with the length daunts her slightly. As he taps the tip of his cock against her glistening lips, she grips her dress tighter, more out of embarrassment and nerves than anything else. Who would she be to refuse the orders of a Prince anyhow.

His fist tightens in her hair as he slips his cock past her lips, only halfway in he feels her tensing up at the foreign feeling, “Breathe” he orders quietly, “through your nose”. She whimpers at the uncomfortable feeling and wishes not to see anymore, so she shuts her eyes tight, attempting to do as he says and breathe through her nose. His taste is strange, salty and yet not unpleasant. His member is warm and heavy in her mouth, despite not being all the way within and she can feel her mouth aching to accommodate his sheer size. His fingers are tight in her hair, possibly in an attempt to hold himself back, and she whimpers around his cock at the feeling of the tugging of her follicles and the vibrations of her mouth against him make Aemond tip his head back just slightly. He sighs at the feeling of her warm, wet mouth squeezing him so deliciously and he holds back the desire to deliver his spend right into her there and then.

Once he feels she has sufficiently calmed down, relaxed her jaw, Aemond sheathes himself all the way in, briefly touching the back of her throat, making her whimper around his cock again. Her hands fly to his thighs to push him back for reprieve, but he is much too strong for that and he only tightens his fist in her hair more.

Without waiting a moment longer, he cants his hips against her mouth, sliding in and then out slightly, enjoying the friction her mouth gives him. He sees that she still has her eyes shut, hands tight on his leather breeches now and he gives a shuddered moan, tipping his head back all the way now, losing himself in the feeling of fucking her mouth, guiding the rhythm with the hand that’s in her hair. 

Caring not that she is a maiden, he hastens his pace and her little whimpers are becoming too loud for him to really enjoy this.

“Quiet” he demands, much more spitefully than he intended .

And she is. Which makes him even more aroused than he could possibly be right now. So obedient. Just the good, sweet girl she is. 

At the ache in her jaw, tears begin to pool at the corner of her closed eyes and fall in thin lines down her face. Aemond is lost beyond control, his thrusts sloppy and unforgiving as he feels the tight, wound up pressure of his peak creeping up on him at breakneck speed. He dares to look down at her, accepting his cock into her mouth like a cunt, his shaft now wet with her saliva and thrusting into her with the soft beat of his hips. His other hand comes to the side of her face, using his thumb to wipe the streak of her tear away, before he uses it for more leverage.

He’s never felt more powerful in his life. To have such control over someone he so fervently lusts over. It’s other-wordly. And he has no intention of stopping, not as long as she continues to be the malleable, sweet little thing she is now.

His thrusts cease, and he presses his hips right against her mouth as a strangled and uncharacteristically loud moan escapes his throat. He can feel his spend shoot at the back of her throat, and her flinch when she also feels it. But doing as he says, she makes no sound. Not until his cum begins to pool in one corner of her mouth and only then does she emit the tiniest of sounds. He can now hear the hurried breathing out her nose as she waits for his next command.

Aemond allows his breathing to even out, savouring the look of her, eyes softly shut with his spend and cock in her mouth, before he slowly pulls out. Her lips tightly shut when he does eventually vacate her mouth.

“Look at me”

She can feel something dripping down her face and when she looks at him, he looks a different person entirely. Breathing ragged, hair slightly tousled, looking nothing at all like the prim and proper royal she is used to. Her eyes are glazed, cheeks a dusty pink from the efforts of what he’d done. She waits.

“Swallow”

Assuming he requires her gaze still, she looks between his eye and eyepatch and to the best of her ability, swallows the strange, salty and thick substance in her mouth. She thought it wasn’t unpleasant, the taste of it, but that her jaw ached and she felt the gnawing agony of shame sink in through her skin. Aemond moans outright when he sees her throat bob and her deep exhale after she’s obeyed. 

He uses his thumb to collect the line of spend that had leaked from her mouth and puts it back into her mouth, humming at the sight of depositing it against her tongue. She need not be told, and she wraps her lips around the digit, sucking whatever she can off of it, before Aemond is sure that it is clean and pulls out. She shuffles where she is knelt, her knees now aching from the stone, and she feels the slick between her legs as she does so, coating the inside of her thighs. And it confuses her. What is this strange sensation, seeming to come from nowhere, deep and ancient. 

Aemond sighs contently and stuffs his softened cock back into his breeches. 

“Leave. Now” is all he says to her, not sparing her a second glance as he strides towards the side table once more for another cup of wine.

With a shaky breath, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, still being able to taste the heady, potent taste of his spend. Scrambling to her feet, she dare not look back to him, fearing that the shameful belief within would intensify if she did.

Once the door was shut, she wipes her cheeks of any remaining tears and takes a moment to recover, trying to understand how she feels, what just happened, and what this means for her. Is she a maidservant or a whore. Perhaps she is both now. Living two separate lives for him once the sun has gone down. Does she enjoy the duality of it, she cannot say either way. All she knows is that she cannot possibly refuse him and that she’s not sure if she even wants to. The wetness between her thighs may sway her in one direction, she fears.

She offered up countless prayers to the Mother. For forgiveness. To make her understand. 

But the Mother never responded. 

General Aemond Taglist: @risefallrise​ 

Consequences Taglist: @iiamthehybrid @manitskatrina @dahlias-and-marigolds @okfashionista @the-common-cowgirl @toodlesxcuddles  @darkenchantress @magnificentdelusionr  @tinykryptonitewerewolf @tssf-imagines @mandiiblanche @xdeath-soulx

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond fluff #dark!aemond targaryen #dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond #prince aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond angst #aemond stannies #aemond x y/n #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #prince aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x maid!reader

[samkerrworshipper]

ephiphany | lucy bronze x reader

warnings: homophobia, mentions of overdose, grief, death

You thought you were getting better, or happier at least.

You cleaned your room, or you tried to. You worked out, well you walked into your home gym and then turned around as soon as your foot hit the floorboards. You left the house, or you sat in your backyard for a total of five minutes. All the things your therapist was telling you were for the best, all the right things.

Now, you’re lying on your couch - because yours is messy because clean for you is more about removing any major tripping hazards in comparison to actually cleaning. Everything feels like it’s slipping away from you.

You can’t do much more than stare at the blank wall in front of you, the one part of your living room that you choose to keep blank for this reason exactly. Every single other wall is adorned with shelves, paintings, trophies, photos, but this strip of plain white plaster is completely blank. It’s an island of peace in a room full of noise.

You can’t help but wonder why everything that's led to this has happened, why the cookie had to crumble this way for you.

Lucy’s on the phone in the kitchen, yelling at someone or something, Narla is lying beside you on the couch, absolutely desperate for your attention, something that you are yet to award her, Narla is trembling slightly, she hates when Lucy yells, the both of you do. You can’t help but think of all the bad things, can’t stop thinking. No matter how many of the pictures on the walls that you look at, or the art displayed on the plaster it’s just too much, too much for your brain to handle.

You’ve been trying to tell yourself for weeks now that you’ll get over it, that you’ll be good and happy and everything is going to be fine, because if it isn’t then everything is fucked. Everything you’ve ever worked for or wanted is gone.

You thought life was getting better, you thought you were going to return to the pitch, out of respect for Jonatan you were getting annoyed at yourself that you hadn’t gotten on the pitch yet, because it had been fucking weeks, and all you had accomplished was a messy room and a lot of tears.

Grief sucked.

Having your mom die from a fucking overdose was the freight train that you never expected to hit.

But when it did it was fucking carnage, a fucking wreck that had torn your life to pieces in a matter of minutes.

Maybe you’d hurt her, maybe she’d hurt you, maybe you were careless and didn’t think about how leaving your family would hurt her, maybe your choices had resulted in her death.

She was understanding until you told her you were gay.

She cared about you until you told her you were moving to Barca to be with Lucy.

She was your biggest supporter until you told her that you were so scared of how your father would react that you needed to move so he didn’t find out when you were in the house with him.

Maybe you could’ve been the bigger person, faced your fear.

Maybe, had you stayed and protected your mother from your fathers wrath she would still be alive.

But you left.

And maybe all the ‘hurt people hurt people’

Bullshit is true, maybe your mom only hurt you because of how much your father hurt her. Maybe she was just another example of the cycle of abuse that was so fucked up.

But that didn’t make it any easier, didn’t make it any easier to acknowledge that your last conversation with your mom ever was her screaming at you about how you were going to hell because of who you loved.

It’s been a little over a month or so since you visited her grave.

You remember the woman who had been visiting the grave next to you asking if you were okay, you didn’t know how to answer her.

In a matter of seconds of replying ‘yes’ you were gone, leaving behind a part of you that you never wanted to face again.

You saw the life drain from Lucy’s face as you confessed to her all of your guilt in the car ride back to Leah’s house, where you were staying for the weekend.

Lucy held your trembling body in her arms, holding onto you as tight as she could and promising she’d never let go, and she didn’t.

She could feel you slipping away out from under her, when your shared bed started to turn into a nest of blankets and you refused to let Lucy clean it up, when you made her take down every single photo you had of your family, desperate to remove any traces of them from your life, Lucy watched as you refused to eat anything, watched as your body began to thin and the bags under your eyes only got bigger.

Her therapist told her that everyone had a grief process, everyone processed death differently, but she was watching you kill yourself in the process of greiving your mother, and it gutted her.

In the six years that the two of you’d been dating she’d met your mother once, and that has been as a friend, not a girlfriend. You’d told Lucy about your families homophobic views, but she just couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t comprehend how someone so amazing and loveable could have her whole family turn on her just for who she loved.

You let go of them though, washed your hands of their blood and let them run down the sink. It had been hard for you, losing a whole support system, but you’d worked through it, Lucy had been there for every single step of the way.

But right now, she felt more lost than ever, you were like a ghost in her arms.

When Lucy finally did finish on the phone she walked into the lounge room, to find you bunched up in the blankets on your couch, staring at the same spot that you always seemed to be looking at. The same spot that a month ago had held the picture of your mother and you, from your England debut. It was your favourite picture, the both of you beaming from ear to ear, you’d never felt like she’d been more proud of you then she was in that moment.

It had come down though, a month ago when you’d gotten rid of every single trace of your family that was left in your shared apartment. It had shattered Lucy seeing the very little evidence there was of your family being completely stripped from your house, on every edge of the apartment there was some sort of proof of Lucy’s family, whether it was pictures of her nieces and nephews or little mementos from trips or memories.

Lucy walked around the front of the couch, to spot that there were cold, still tears dripping down your face.

“Baby, everything okay?”

It was hard getting through to you nowadays, you were like a locked up safe, it was hard to get much out of you.

When Lucy realised that her soft tone had done absolutely nothing to penetrate your spaced out mind she raised her voice a little bit, taking a step closer to you and blocking your view of the wall just slightly.

“Baby, you okay?”

Your eyes snapped up to Lucy’s face, your jumper sleeve moving directly up to your face to wipe the tears off of your face.

“She’s gone, Luce.”

Your words were a murmur, hardly pronounced but Lucy caught them.

She slipped onto the couch beside you, opening her arms to you and smiling to herself as you climbed into her lap almost immediately, your arms wrapping around her neck like she was a lifeline.

“She’s fucking gone and I never told her that I loved her or that I forgave her or that I understood her struggles, she’s gone and I-I how am I supposed to live in a world where my mother didn’t love me or want me?”

It was so hard to hear those words leave your mouth, that you felt like you were unwanted, because you weren’t. You’d found a family in Barcelona with Lucy, your teammates were your family and they loved you more than enough, but they weren’t your blood.

“Sweetheart, do you actually believe that those things are true? That she deserved to be told you loved her when she didn’t deserve it?”

Your sob was enough of an indication of your answer and Lucy only held onto you for longer.

“She didn’t want me.”

Lucy didn’t know what to say to that, because she couldn’t lie to you and tell you that your mother did love you or want you, she couldn’t lie to you. Your mother was like a oxymoron of sorts, because in no way had she behaved in a way that was motherly or loving, she had canned you because of who you were, and that was fucking horrible, it sucked.

“I know baby, but I do, I love you so much, we’re going to get through this.”

Lucy wasn’t sure if you would get through this, she didn’t know how many works your body could do this for, how long you could struggle, how much longer you could let yourself be pulled apart by the death of your mother, how much pulling you could deal with before the scars were simply to big for you to be repaired.

She knew she’d lost parts of you since it happened that she might never get back, parts of you that she so desperately missed, which felt horrible, because it felt illegal to miss parts of your lover, but she did, she war mourning her own life with you that had faded away when she died.

Lucy didn’t know if you’d ever be kay, she prayed to every star that you would, that tomorrow, or next week, or next month she;d get a part of her girl back, a sign that you were okay, she was waiting for that, waiting so patiently for a sign that you were still in there somewhere, that your mother hadn;t taken you to the grave with her, that you weren’t just a skeleton walking around anymore.

———————————————————————

yeah so poll is voting for more big fics but this little drabble ideas has been in my head for a few days and i had a few fiq reqs for grief angst so here it is xo

#woso #woso community #lucy bronze is daddy #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze

[thought--bubble]

In Need Of An Heir Pt 4

Aemond (Canon Era) X (Baratheon! Reader)

Warnings After The Cut

Word Count: 1,874

In Need of an Heir Master List

Aemond (Canon Era) Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: mentions of forced marriage, Religious guilt.

Aemond watches you and Royce make a hasty exit from the dinner after being excused. As soon as the doors shut behind you, Aegon breaks out into a hearty laugh.

"I see you have charmed your betrothed brother. She seems truly smitten!"

Aemond looks straight at Aegon. Face stoic and cold. "So it seems." This just makes Aegon laugh harder.

"I'm sure that she is just nervous. A marriage is a big step. She is leaving her home and living somewhere new. With people she hardly knows, we would all do well to try and make her feel more comfortable. " Alicent looks at Aemond as she says this. Her usual way of asking him to do something without actually asking him.

His face remains still. There are a lot of things he will do if his mother so wishes. Going out of his way to make this girl comfortable is not one of them. Making people comfortable isn't something that he excels at, and he's self-aware.

He already has plans for the coming week. Ignore everyone and everything as much as possible. Train and attend councils as necessary and assist Criston, who is the current hand of the king, in keeping an ever watchful eye on Aegon, and that's it. Nowhere in that schedule is there room to spend time with this girl and make her comfortable. He will have to spend enough of his life with her. He should at least enjoy what time he has left.

So that is exactly what he does. The whole week goes by pretty quickly. His mother didn't bother him with much of the wedding plans, though she did ask him to meet with the jeweler to choose a necklace for his bride.

"Make sure to choose something special. This will be your first gift to her." She had said.

The jeweler has several necklaces laid out for Aemond to choose from. Most being beautiful rubies or emeralds. He spots a beautiful citrine necklace. He picks it up, turning the jewel between his fingers a few times. Maybe the yellow color will remind her of home. Make her more comfortable as his mother had suggested.

He holds the citrine necklace in his hand as he continues to peruse the other available choices when his eye stops on a beautiful sapphire necklace. His hand involuntarily passes over his eye patch.

"Make a connection" more words of wisdom from his mother.

He puts the citrine necklace down and picks up the sapphire. "This one," he rubs his thumb over the flat surface of the stone before handing it to the jeweler.

He leaves the room quickly after that, heading to his mother's chambers. She wanted to have a brief meeting with him before the wedding, which he has been putting off all week. Seeing as the wedding was tomorrow, he couldn't put it off any longer, so reluctantly, he makes the trip through the winding corridors to his mother's apartments.

As he rounds the corner, he spots your small frame. Hunched over arm outstretched on the wall, no doubt supporting your weight.

He can hear you groan out loud as he gets closer.

"Is everything alright, my lady?" He knows the true answer to this is an unequivocal no. You are being forced to marry him tomorrow after all.

When you turn and look at him, he doesn't see the fear he had seen at dinner. He can't quite place exactly what it is he sees. Your big eyes travel up and down his body.

He hates to be seen. Truly seen. Looked at gawked at like some sort of beast. What does she see? A man? A prince? A monster? He can't be sure, and it's that thought that terrifies him.

"Oh..... yes, my prince just l....... ummm big day tomorrow"

"Hmmm," he clicks his tongue as he observes you, as if trying to find any sort of sign that will tell him what it is you were thinking. What was really going on in your head.

"Are you due to visit my mother?"

"Oh no, just left her company, actually," he tries to think of some way to keep the conversation going. Maybe have a brief conversation before being wed in front of the gods.

His mind is blank and quickly gives up on this idea. "Very well then, I will keep you no longer." he walks towards his mother's door quickly and gently knocks on the door.

Never before has he wished for his mother to answer the door quickly the way he does in this moment.

You curtsy and walk off. He sees this out of the corner of his eye, but he keeps his head straightforward.

His mind is racing as he waits for his mother to answer the door, he hates not knowing things. He prides himself on knowing more than anyone else in the room. But with this. His marriage, his bride, he knows next to nothing.

Finally a chambermaid opens the door, before she has a chance to greet or curtsy Aemond walks briskly past her and into his mothers apartments.

"Mother..." his demeanor is cold but his mother knows him better than anyone. His cool facade never works on her.

"Sit Aemond, there are a few things i wish to discuss before tomorrow" she gestures to the chair directly across from her.

He sits down curling his fingers over the end of the armrest. Scratching briefly at the wood with his fingernails.

"so, as you know tomorrow you are to be married"

he sighs and looks up at the ceiling "I'm aware"

"I want to review the process, where you will stand all of those things...... but first, I want to speak to you regarding the wedding night."

He rolls his eye and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "There is no need to discuss this mother, I know what is expected of me and will see it done"

"There is another person in this equation Aemond, I have been exactly where she is. I just mean to bring that to your attention. How you treat her on your wedding night may effect the way your entire marriage plays out. Mutual respect and care, gentleness and understanding. This isn't simply a duty to be done." She is looking at him with a solemn expression. "I just ask that you take this into consideration. That she will most likely be scared and as her husband it is part of your duty to make her feel safe"

he simply nods in understanding. Not wanting to discuss this topic any further.

"You will have some work to do in regards to showing her that you are in fact a decent man" she says this with some disdain. A tone she rarely uses when she speaks to him. A tone she uses when she talks about one particular subject. A subject he again would rather not discuss.

"Is that so? Have I already wronged her in some way?" He chuckles as he leans back in his chair. He knows exactly what his mother is referring to and it irritates him. he fancies himself a patient man though others may disagree. He does not however have any patience for being judged, right or wrong what he has done, the sins he has committed are between him and the gods and he will not explain himself to another person. That includes his mother and his soon to be wife.

"You had already made a promise to wed her and be a loyal dutiful husband when you..... took part in certain activities, so yes in a manner of speaking you have in fact wronged her in a way. But not just her. The gods of which you are about to stand in front of and be wed." She gives him that scalding look of disappointment he hates so much.

"I see" He hates that his mother is right. He prides himself on fulfilling his duties, keeping his oaths. "Well seeing as the ability to travel back in time escapes me, it seems she will have to make do."

"Just something to be mindful of" she says gently, and from there the conversation breaks out into the specifics of the wedding. Where to be and when, how the procession will take place who will do what.

Once his mother finally dismisses him he exits her apartments swiftly making his way back to his chambers. He intends to spend the rest of the day there. In his solitude, a book in hand, and that is exactly what he does. He has his supper alone in his chambers and lays down to rest much earlier than usual.

Though he is laying down sleep does not come. Tomorrow ever watchful eyes will be on him. The eyes of his mother, his brother, his bride, so many others, but most of all the gods.

The gods he knows he has no doubt disappointed. He is a kin slayer, a murderer, he has been lustful, violent, driven by revenge and hate, and now he is to stand before those same gods who's principles he has betrayed and ask them to bless the union of his marriage.

He can only hope his bride has enough goodness for the both of them.

When the morning finally comes he moves swiftly. This is what he is best at. Being given a duty to fulfill and seeing it done through to completion. He dawns some of his best attire makes his way down to the sept earlier than anticipated.

He enters the large hall of the Sept and runs his hand over the corners of the benches as he walks through. It is decorated beautifully as his mother no doubt commissioned. It seems so frivolous. To spend the money on such an affair when the common folk are suffering after the war. Especially those trying to rebuild in the Riverlands.

It needs to be done. So it will be done.

Aemond waits patiently while the others make their way to the Sept. The hall fills with people as he is directed to his post. His battle station. The voices that were filling the sept are being quieted as everyone makes their way to their assigned positions. Aemond stares ahead at the empty space where his bride will soon stand and waits.

He turns and nods his head only when his brother is carried in and placed at the front of the observers. his eyes on Aemond a lazy smile on his face.

After that he stares blankly ahead and waits for the sound of those big doors opening. The sound of his bride making her way to him.

When he hears the doors open he closes his eye and takes a deep breath, not turning his head but remaining forward facing.

it's not long before she is stationed before him. Her hair looks beautiful, her dress looks beautiful, but she looks frightened.

"she will most likely be scared and as her husband it is part of your duty to make her feel safe" his mothers words play through his head.

He gives her a small smile.

As with all of his duties he shall see this completed.

Part 5

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#ewan mitchell verse #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond the kinslayer #prince aemond #aemond #possessive aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewanverse #jess fics #my war criminal bf

[shadeysprings]

A Toast to New Beginnings

—Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary — Reconnecting with your childhood best friend was supposed to be a wonderful experience—until it wasn't.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, drugging, implied kidnapping, childhood best friends to lovers with a dark twist, possessive Bucky and more that I could have forgotten.

Word Count — 1.7K

A/N — My second entry for @thebasementspouses The 12 Men of Christmas Writing Challenge. And it was such a thrill to write for Bucky again. As soon as I was able to choose what item to pair with him, my mind just went berserk. I mean, how could you not?!

Shoutout to my beta @sgt-seabass. But all mistakes are mine alone.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

“It’s really good to see you again, Bucky.”

The smile you give him is mirrored on his face as he takes your empty plate, stacks it with his, and places them in the sink.

It’s been years since you last saw him, years since you ran away from home and established a new life in the city. You thought he would be angry for leaving him, your only friend in your small town, after you had both promised to be there for each other no matter what.

Though life back then was tough and unpredictable. And as a teenager, it gave you no choice but to leave everything behind, to escape the hardships. Including him.

The years seem to have worn on him with the way he’s grown. You couldn’t believe that this is the same Bucky you knew who roughed up the kids that made fun of you, and stole lollipops from the local store just because you wanted them. He was reckless back then, a bad boy as the old women called him. But now, he seems like an entirely different person and yet at the same time familiar. Like home.

Gone is the long hair you’ve always known him to have, recalling how he beat up the boys who teased him for it, and loved how his mother would comb it out for him despite saying how much he disliked it. Now, his hair is neatly trimmed with the shadow of his beard just kissing his face. He’s also grown bigger; muscles bulged from his shoulders and arms, almost making his navy henley shirt too tight for him. 

Guilt suddenly swirls around you, twiddling your fingers together as you remain seated at table and watch him tidy up the kitchen. You even take the time to observe his apartment—a complete bachelor’s pad. But you can’t help but notice the small touches he’s added that reminds you of his childhood home.

He’s never brought up the past once since you met last week by chance at the grocery store. Never once has he shown any emotions of betrayal for what you’ve done. But with you, it’s all you’ve been thinking about after parting ways and agreeing to his invitation to reconnect.

“You remember my mama’s eggnog back then?” He says, disrupting your train of thought, a smile still ever present on his lips when you look up at him.

You smile once more, the memory washing over you like a wave. “How can I forget? She always made mine with chocolate.”

“You always were her favorite,” he laughs heartily. “Liked you more than her own son.”

“Well, she always did want a girl. And I’m the closest thing to a daughter she’ll ever have,” you say with equal mirth.

“Yeah, yeah. Go sit on the couch.” Bucky instructs with a playful inflection in his voice.  You stand from the dining table, already making your way to the living room. “I’ll bring you a mug before I give you your present.”

“Present?” That surprises you.

Taking a seat on the couch, you finally notice a small red box sitting on the low coffee table, your name written on the card. You didn’t know he was preparing something for you, and you came to his place empty handed. If the situation were different, if this were to happen in the past, you would have teased each other about it. But with so much time wedged between the both of you, you can’t help but feel another bout of remorse and realize how much things have changed.

“Here you go.” 

You look up at Bucky and take the offered mug, the warmth radiating in your palms. He joins you on the couch, a mug for himself in his hand, and a smile grazes his face when he takes a sip. His blue eyes cast over at you, curiosity present. 

“You’re sad.” He says, turning in his seat to face you completely. “Did something upset you?”

Placing your drink on the table, you clasp your hands tight and stare blankly into nothing. Of course something upset you. Everything since Bucky came back into your life upset you. It wasn’t because he was part of the past you wanted to forget but more so because you abandoned him.

Yet here he is, making you meals and your favorite drink, the gift adding to the pain that you desperately keep hiding deep in your chest. 

“Bucky— I—”

“You don’t have to say anything.” You look over at him when he interrupts, his mug now sitting beside yours. “You did what you had to do, I know. It took time to accept it, but I eventually did.” His hands then envelop yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. There’s a slight smile on his face, the same one that always brought you comfort whenever something troubled you. 

Slowly, he reaches over to give your cheek a gentle pinch, ultimately making you chuckle at the childish gesture. Your mug is placed between your palms, and he takes his all the same, sipping on it before nodding in your direction. 

“Go on. Mama��s eggnog always makes you feel better during the holidays,” he urges. 

“Well, she always made mine special,” you respond, sticking your tongue out playfully at him, and take a heavy gulp of the warm beverage. But your face twists when you swallow, a sour aftertaste scattering on the surface of your tongue that makes you look at your mug, then at Bucky. 

“Is something wrong?” He asks in concern.

“No,” you say, trying to appease him, but the cough you release lets him know otherwise. “Just— I don’t remember it being this bitter.”

“Shit. I must have added too much cinnamon in it.” There’s a frown on his lips as he stands from his seat, holding his hand out for the mug. “I can make you a new one if you like. Probably hold back on the cinnamon this time.”

“Oh, don’t bother.” You tell him, schooling your features as you take another sip. “It’s still good. But maybe I can have a glass of water with it?”

“Already on it.” 

You take another mouthful as he leaves for the kitchen, hoping to get used to the bitter aftertaste. But it’s an endeavor you stop, placing the mug back on the coffee table and instead reaching out for the red box to guess its contents. 

But your heart begins to beat at a rapid pace, hands shaking uncontrollably, and you gasp when you feel your muscles tighten then loosen altogether, making you lean back against the cushions of the couch like a wilted flower as you try to decipher what’s happening. You try to call for Bucky to help you in your mysterious ordeal, but no matter how hard you try, no words leave your lips. And in just a matter of seconds, you’re rendered helpless and incapacitated. 

Your eyes widen when you see Bucky return, eyes cast down on you as he sets the glass of water beside your mug. He says nothing, not even questioning how you’ve come to be this way, yet there seems to be no sense of urgency permeating through him. And instead, he lets out a chuckle when he takes your legs from the floor and lifts them up to the couch. 

“Well, what do you know! It does have a fast reaction time,” he says with a grin, taking a seat at your side and reaching over to caress your face.

What? He did this on purpose? But why?

Confusion runs wildly in your head as tears stream down your cheeks. You feel nothing yet everything all at once; the sound of his heavy breaths when he leans closer, the heat that flutters on your skin when he grazes his fingertips against it, and the sight of his intense stare, how the blue of his eyes grow bolder, the concern and, dare you say, love in them earlier replaced with hunger, possessiveness and something darker.

“After years of waiting, I finally have you, my Dove.” 

That name. 

It’s been years since you’ve heard it. And it was only him and his mother who called you as such. The name that used to bring you joy each time you heard it. Yet now, it elicits fear in your chest.

Sapphire orbs bores into your eyes while his hand caresses your cheek. “Unlike before, I won’t let you go that easily.” His hand snakes down to your neck, then lower to your breast, taking a tit in his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “In all honesty, you did this to yourself. If you never left me, we would never be in this situation. We could have been married. Living a simple life on the outskirts of town. Maybe even here in the city.” Releasing your breast, he pushes his hand lower, skating down your blouse and stopping just at the edge of your jeans. With deft hands, he undoes the button and pulls down the zip, your chest pounding as you foresee the coming events, wanting to kick him away from you—but it’s no use.

You no longer see your childhood best friend, your protector through the years. What you see is a stranger, a monster, here to haunt you through the next.

He’s strong, pulling the fabric off your thighs and tossing them haphazardly to the ground. He then stands, eyes raking over your body, and you’re once more stricken with fear when he starts to undo his pants. 

“Now, I’ll make sure that you never leave me,” he continues, kicking his pants away and taking your legs in his hands, lifting them over his shoulders as he kneels before you. 

You do nothing but watch in horror and feel his ministrations when he pushes your panties aside and presses his thumb against your clit. He rolls it slowly, teasing, dampening your cunt with each stroke he makes, pulling at the pleasure you desperately tamp down, but all your efforts are useless with your body subdued.

He lines his cock against your cunt, feeling the way he rubs the tip against your folds, taunting to penetrate at any moment. 

“This time, I’ll make sure we’ll be together forever.”

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #a toast to new beginnings #tbschristmaschallenge #mcu #tfatws #sebastian stan characters #shadeysprings fics

[writerpetals]

date with a vampire | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

// vampire!au , unprotected vampire sex

When your best friend tells you the news that she has someone new to set you up on your second blind date that month, you resist the urge to scoff with a roll of your eyes. Not that you don’t appreciate her efforts, knowing she only wants you to find someone nice, and she is probably sick of hearing you whine any time the two of you go out and you begin to cry about never meeting anyone worthwhile.

“Does he have kids he hasn’t seen in years?” you question as you stir the spoon in the mug in front of you while staring out the window of the small coffee shop, a lack of confidence this time around because you don’t want to waste your time with something that will go nowhere. “Is he over the age of fifty?”

“No to the first question, and…” She hesitates as she tucks loose strands of hair behind her ear before reaching for her own mug, taking a sip and fidgeting in her seat.. Of course she hesitates. There’s always the hesitation before she drops the bomb on you, and usually it’s after your first date, leaving you to either have the awkward conversation that it won’t work out, or feel like a jerk for avoiding phone calls and texts. “He might be… a little older.”

From her tone, you know what’s coming next. She’s either talking about a potential sugar daddy, or something less than human. It’s not like it’s any secret supernatural creatures have been coexisting with humans for far longer than the world has known about them, and growing up with the news that such beings existed has you nonchalant to the fact. You don’t plan on discriminating against them any time soon considering most only want to live peacefully like any other human, and she even dates one herself. Maybe it’s how she met this new potential candidate, and even though you try not to, you find yourself groaning at the news.

“He’s a-” She leans closer to whisper. “-vampire.”

“Why are you whispering?” You chuckle at that, watching a grin appear on her lips. “And I told you before, I’m not so sure about dating a vampire, or werewolf, or any other kind of man that can suck the life out of me in more ways than one.”

She giggles and shakes her head while picking at the muffin in front of her. “Well my girlfriend is a werewolf,” she reminds you, though you assume her girlfriend is a rare exception.

You went months without knowing her true self, and you would have never guessed her to be a wolf if you didn’t walk in on her shifting back to her human form one morning your best friend and you were scheduled for a coffee date. That was the morning you lost the spare “just in case” key to her apartment, and also the week the two of them moved in together. Not that you could ever complain. The two are happy, and as her best friend, you’re happy. You just wish she wouldn’t try so desperately to spread her happiness by setting you up on blind dates.

“There’s nothing wrong with dating them. They deserve happiness just like everyone else and-”

“I know, I know,” you interrupt her before she starts on one of her long-winded speeches. “Of course I don’t think there is anything wrong with them, I just don’t think they are… for me. I’m already bad enough at human dates.”

She sighs, slumping her shoulders, and you know she is going to guilt trip you into agreeing. “Just give it a try?” Her brows arch, bottom lip protruding. “If it goes horribly, blame it on me and I swear I will never set you up again, but…”

“But?” You admit defeat by humoring her.

“But I swear you’re going to love him!” Her eyes light up, a wide grin spreading over her face. “He’s good looking, polite, incredibly charming! Oh, and he owns his own tattoo shop!”

“Tattoo shop?” You have a hard time hiding your grin. “Did you really set me up on a date with some wild tattooed vampire that’s older than the two of us combined?” She chuckles at that, not bothering to answer the question.

***

Friday night arrives quicker than you expected, and maybe part of it is because you have been dreading the date night all week. You hoped you wouldn’t find yourself wishing it was over before it begins as you set eyes on the restaurant you agreed to meet him at, but it’s only natural after so many failed attempts at her finding Mr. Right for you.

Your eyes scan the bright yellow lights flashing with a special price of both human and vampire menu items, knowing places that cater to both have popped up more and more over the last few years as a way to calm the tension between the two. Though the items on the menu are questionable, you were happy to agree to an affordable place to go dutch. If the date turns sour, you can at least throw a few bills on the table and make a quick exit. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Though it is the first time you have been set up with a supernatural being. Or, at least the first you’re aware of, and your heart races as you enter the restaurant to tell the hostess your name. She smiles wide, showing off two pointed fangs to have your heart sinking into a twisting stomach, guiding you over to the table where you date is apparently already waiting on you.

The moment she steps aside, your sights fall on the man settled in the chair at the small table before you. His gaze rises to meet your eyes, and you aren’t sure whether to stare at his shy smile, the fact that he has no hints of fangs anywhere, or his tongue darting out the moment he licks his lips as he takes in the sight of you. Gulping, you nod to the waitress before she takes off, and then you take your seat across from him before he can stand out of politeness, smoothing your hands over your skirt and flashing a subtle smile.

He says in a deeper voice than you expected, grin widening, and as you tell him your name, he leans closer, never taking his eyes off of you. “It’s nice to meet you finally. She said you were cute, but I wasn't expecting this cute. Beautiful, actually.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks from the compliment, realizing vampires must be much more forward than guys your own age, but you try not to let his words get to you. You also try not to think about your best friend hyping you up so much, not wanting to deal with the consequences of being a disappointment if you didn’t live up to her generous praises.

“Thanks,” you tell him, eyes falling to your hands in your lap for a moment while hating the fact that your friend talks so much. Though, you have to admit she was right. He is charming, and good looking, and you will see as the night goes on if he is as polite as she promised. Any guy can sweet talk you, and you weren't born yesterday. “You must say that to all the girls,” you tease him, watching a wide smile appear on his face.

“I don't, actually,” he admits just as the waiter arrives at your table, waiting on you to order a water while your date tells him the blood type of his choice. For a moment, you forgot he isn't even human, only aware of the fact when you realize he's ordering blood and not a cocktail. “I have to be honest.”

Here we go, you think. “Honest is good,”  you tell him, causing him to chuckle.

“I don't usually do this.” You refrain from raising your brows or pursing your lips. It's not like it's the first time you have heard that line before. “But she promised I wouldn’t regret it, and she told me we would hit it off and-”

“She likes to say a lot of things before she’s sure of them,” you interrupt, but the grin on his face admits he takes no offense. “She told me the same thing. And I don’t usually do this, either, even though she bugs me all the time.”

“Oh really?” The vampire perks up, grinning and flashing points of his sharp fangs. Your heart beats twice as fast, then you curse yourself knowing he can probably hear it. “What made you change your mind tonight?”

You can’t help but to smile. Damn her for being correct in the fact that he is really charming. You could melt looking at his smile alone.

“I don’t know… you know what they say. You only live once.”

“Well… actually…”

Suddenly, you’re bursting into a fit of laughter. Your vampire date smiles wider, and before you know it the two of you are cruising into comfortable, casual conversation. He tells you about his job owning a tattoo shop. You tell him about your favorite movies and books. He indulges in a few stories from his human life and you give in and tell him something embarrassing from the fifth grade. As the night goes on, you’re less and less focused on that fact you’re on ablind date with a vampire, and only feeling the natural connection between the two of you. He is charming, and handsome, and you don’t remember the last time you laughed this much.

You never thought it would be so easy to tell him little tidbits about your life and even silly, embarrassing stories. You never imagined yourself sitting for a long time even after dinner was finished listening to him tell you his adventures in different cities and late night exploring where humans don’t usually venture. The conversation grows so natural, it almost feels as if you’ve known him for a while.

“It was so nice getting to know you,” you tell him as the two of you walk from the restaurant onto the quiet street. Part of you wishes the night wasn’t over so soon, but looking at the time on your phone, you realized it’s been a few hours talking to the vampire. You didn’t even realize it was so late.

“Same here. I, uh…”

“Do you…”

You both begin to mumble and stutter and beat around the bush because neither of you wants to say goodbye. Sure, you’ve had your attractions to first dates in the past, but never have you felt so much desire to keep the night alive.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” you ask before biting your bottom lip. You’ve never been so forward, especially not on a first date. This vampire is drawing you in, you realize. Not only do you feel at ease with him, you suddenly feel hot and bothered at the thought of getting him alone. What would it be like with him? What would it feel like? Never would you have imagined yourself so worked over a funny, charming vampire, but here you are. Inviting him into your bed after one very long, very fun dinner date.

No, not the bed, you try to convince yourself. Just to get to know him more.

“I would love to,” he replies with a smirk, making your heart beat harder once again.

Shit, your curse at yourself. He can definitely hear it.

He extends his hand, showing a hint of tattooed skin beneath the sleeve of his jacket. It only takes a second for your palm to slip against him while wondering if he got those tattoos in his human life, leading the short walk to your place.

Suddenly you stop, however, turning to look at him. “Um…” You hesitate as he looks on with curious eyes widening. “Whatever happens… please, don’t bite me.”

Without thinking twice, he throws his head back in laughter, giving your hand a little squeeze after the few seconds it takes him to calm down. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in closer to whisper, “biting is no fun unless you’re enjoying it.”

***

You can barely make it inside before your lips are on his. His hands on you. Chests pressing together and you attempting to press yourself against his thigh where you need him most. It was like a snap of a finger, a flip of a switch. The more you talk to this vampire, the more you desire dancing dangerously close to the edge.

Now your back is pressed to your door. He pins you against wood with the weight of his own body, yet he’s still so careful, gentle.

“Do you have a key, sweetheart?” he questions between moments of his lips against your neck. “Or do you like giving the neighborhood a show?”

Again, you’re giggling before you’re moaning, feeling his tongue slip across your flesh with ease. “Pocket…” is all you can manage to get out. Your mind is in a whirlwind because of this man… no, this vampire. And the longer you’re in his presence the less you care about any danger or even the fact that he’s not human. Your body aches for him, desperate to see what he’s really made of. The need to experience something so otherworldly urges you to continue as he digs around in your coat pocket for your key.

Before you know it the two of you are stumbling into your home. The door barely shuts behind you before your back is against its wooden panels once again. Fingers pluck at buttons and zippers while his mouth explores your own in the process. Heat swells between your legs, eager to remove the clothing in the way to feel his skin against your own.

“Please,” you gasp, feeling his tongue gliding over the heavy pulse in your neck, “hurry.” Your fingers tug on the bottom of his t-shirt after his jacket falls to the floor, and he gets the hint by lifting the fabric over his head to toss aside. You quickly notice the dark ink covering his skin. The lines and swirls and designs painted on his flesh cover both arms and part of his chest. It stops briefly in your tracks, taking in the sight of this vampire, hot and heavy just for you, staring down at you like you’re his next meal.

And you very well might be, but you couldn't care less. Your body’s desire takes over all rationale and you’re pulling him in again. He tugs on your own clothes as he guides you toward the nearest surface. Fabric falls to the floor just as your thighs bump into the thick, wooden sides of your dining room table.

The moment your hands reach inside his jeans, the vampire inhales a sharp breath and a pop of his fangs jutting from their hiding place grabs your attention. Your palm rests on the thick bulge of his cock as you let the sight of the fine tipped points sink in. Shiny and threatening under the pale light of the moon’s glow sinking into your home, you realize it doesn't bother you in the least bit. He’s been funny and charming and sweet thus far, and now you’re dying for him to be anything but.

With a gentle push, you slip his jeans and underwear down his hips, revealing a thick, aching cock ready for you to play with. Giving it a simple, soft stroke with your palm, the vampire shudders a breath and closes his eyes. Maybe he isn’t so strong and scary, after all.

A smirk grows on your lips and it doesn’t take him long to realize how much you’re enjoying the power you have over him in the moment. Without warning, he grabs your hips to flip your body over, bare chest pressing to the table, naked ass on display for him.

“I can’t let you have all the fun, sweetheart,” he groans in your ear a moment before his hand slips between your thighs. Fingers caress over your swollen and needy folds, feeling the arousal dripping from your center before you’ve barely been touched.

“I thought… we were both having fun,” you tease him between gulps, giggling before a whimper slips from your lips the moment he finds your clit. It’s aching and dying to be touched, not taking long at all for your knees to be quivering. He offers a few gentle circles while chuckling in your ear.

“Of course,” he reassures you, finding your words amusing, “but feeling you shake with need against me is more fun, don’t you think?”

“Y-Yes…” You can barely get the reply out as he sinks a finger into your pussy, causing your eyes to screw shut as you take in the feel of him adding another. “Please…” Your back lowers and your ass arches to greet his touch, wanting more, inviting him in.

“You want more, sweetheart?” he asks so casually it almost makes you nervous. “Want my cock or my tongue?”

Your head spins for a moment as you take in the possibilities. Legs quivering already from just his fingers pumping so slowly, carefully in and out of you, you decide you want it all.

“God…” You squeeze your dripping cunt around the digits pushing inside of you. “Yes… more… anything…”

You know future you will be embarrassed by the relentless begging for this vampire, but in the moment you only want to experience all of him. Quickly, he removes his hand from between your thighs and drops to his knees behind you. Two palms press to your ass before a simple swipe of his tongue over your wet, aching pussy draws out the neediest whine of his name from your body.

“Oh… fuck…” you cry out, feeling his tongue tease your clit for a moment before dipping inside to lick up the juices spilling out. Then he traces a delicious line back to the swollen bud, circling it with the point of his tongue before wrapping his lips around and giving your flesh a gentle kiss. “Oh… Jesus Christ, that feels so…” You can’t finish the sentence before you’re gasping and moaning into the cool air.

You feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your flesh as he continues toying with your clit, tasting your pussy, drawing you closer to the edge.

“So wet, sweetheart,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your flesh before licking from your clit to your entrance, “tastes so good.”

Your body shivers from the deepened, darkened tone of his words. Desire drips from every word between fucking you with his tongue. Heat builds inside of you, coating on the edge of bliss every time he draws his tongue toward your clit to massage your flesh in a way that drives you wild. The grip of his palms on your ass gets tighter, adding to the pleasure as your knees begin to buckle.

It doesn’t take long for your pleasure to come crashing down around you. Warm bliss swells from between your thighs thanks to his diligent tongue. Legs shaking, lips spilling curses and whimpers, you come against his mouth as he continues tasting every drop. Even after your pleasure has subsided, he teases a few final circles around your clit, making your shiver and jerk your hips in response.

“Holy shit…” you curse with a sleepy chuckle, wondering if you should mention anything holy in his presence because what the two of you just did was anything but. You hear him groan at the sight of you still bent over, dripping from bliss and opening and waiting for him.

“Ready for my cock, sweetheart?’ he asks in more of a groan than anything else, and all you can do is whimper a subtle ‘please’ as he wraps one arm around your naked body. He holds you close while you feel the tip of his cock pressing to your cunt, running it up and down your slit to coat his flesh in your previous bliss. “I want to feel you come again while I’m inside you. Feel how tight you can squeeze around me.”

His words send a shiver racing down your spine. You’re hot all over again for him, realizing you want exactly the same thing, and he’s going to give it to you. Slowly, carefully, he sinks his cock deep into your soaked cunt, messy noises filling the dining room to mix with the moans you have no desire to hold back.

‘Oh… Oh my God…” Your head falls back, eyes closed, taking in the way you take in his cock, how it feels inside of you, deep and hard and oh so mind-numbing.

“Fuck,” he groans behind you, hand rising to cup your bare breast. He squeezes it gently before sliding his thumb over your hardened nipple. “Feel so good… so wet, baby.”

His voice is strained, dark, and deep against your ear. He can no longer stall as he pulls his hips away, only to pump his cock back into you. A surge of heat rushes through your body at the motion. Your legs quiver. Your mind tunnels in on the pressure building inside of you once again. So full of this vampire. His cock so deep inside your pussy. His grip on you strengthens, holding you still while falling into a whimper inducing rhythm.

“Please,” you grasp out, saying the words before you can stop yourself. “B-Bite me, please.”

He stalls his motions. His eyes lock into yours, searching your face for any uncertainty. For a moment, you think he will comply. His fangs are fully extended from the pleasure of filling you up. No doubt he’s hungry and horny and ready to feed and fuck.

But he simply shakes his head. “You asked me not to.”

You grin, wiggling your ass against him to let him know to keep going. He slowly falls into his previous pace.

“That was earlier, uninformed me,” you tell him, struggling to breathe through the words as your lashes flutter and your head rolls back again. “Now I know how good it feels being with you. I want… want more.”

“Then more,” he begins, snapping his hips against your ass to fuck you harder, “is what you will, sweetheart, but I will not go back on my word.”

With that, his hand snakes around your neck, the other pressing to your hip to guide your body forward. His pace quickens, rolling himself into you to earn every moan spilling from your lips.

“Touch yourself,” he commands, a dangerous hint of threat at the tip of his tongue to work you up even further, “slip your hand between your thighs and play with your pussy for me.”

You obey him without a second thought. Your hand falls between your legs, fingers quickly finding your clit to do as he says. The pleasure is overwhelming, heat filling every inch, legs quivering, all while he fucks you from behind. The blissful cries spilling from your lips only encourage him further. Nasty words fill the space between the two of you, telling you how good you feel, begging you to come on his cock.

It doesn’t take long to spill over the edge. Coming undone as pleasure swells throughout your body. A warm, muscle soothing sensation filling you up as your walls squeeze round the vampire’s length. He groans behind you feeling you come on his cock, continuing to pump himself into you until he’s losing himself to the moment as well.

He holds you tighter as he finds his own end. Fingers leave indentations against your flesh, tattooed arms pulling you closer every second until he begins to come down from the high. His motions slow. Your heavy breaths fill the room. Legs still shaky, he quickly gets the hint as he turns your body and wraps you in his arms.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, but press his lip softly to your own before you have time to answer.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” you reply in a fit of overwhelming, bliss-filled giggles. He laughs as well, offering another tender kiss to your lips. “Never would have I imagined…”

“What? That it could be so fun?’

“... feel so good,” you add, grinning and wrapping arms around his neck. “I… Why didn’t you-”

“Bite you?’ he completes your thought. “You asked me not to.”

“But then I asked you to.”

He smirks, stroking your cheek with his knuckles before replying. “Well, it will be even more fun when I get to taste you in other ways next time.”

#bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #x reader #x reader smut

[flowercrowngods]

a study in grief, because barb was mike’s friend, too — and steve knows

🤍 also on ao3

November never feels right in Hawkins anymore, and it’s especially bad for the Byers and the Wheelers, with Will‘s Upside Down-iversary and Barb’s death day — except she doesn’t just get a day, she gets a whole week. From the day she went missing to the day that is written on her tomb stone, the day of the lie, the day that will always remind them of the shit they got mixed up with.

The week, really. To some extent Steve feels like this week of grief belongs to all of them, not just Barb — because something died inside all of them, something that sounds and looks and feels a lot like childhood and innocence that could never be restored.

Not like he could — or would — ever say that out loud and burden himself with anymore guilt when it comes to Barb. She should have her week. Fuck, she should have had a life. A lifetime lived, not a lifetime mourned.

God, how she should have lived.

He never even knew her, not really, other than snide and sassy remarks that he would have loved sometimes to acknowledge with a grin or a laugh or even a good natured shove if things had been different. He never even knew her, learned more about her posthumously through Nancy’s and Karen’s and the Hollands’ stories and pictures. And something about getting to know someone rather intimately once they’re dead just never sits right. It haunts you in a way you wouldn’t be haunted had you known them properly.

It’s a different kind of grief, the one that cannot be expressed without the danger of insensitivity. So Steve keeps his mouth shut and visits her grave. Her empty, empty grave. And he listens and he waits and he hugs and he thinks.

He murmurs, sometimes, when nobody’s listening, that he doesn’t swim anymore. That he hasn’t been in the pool in one, two, three years now, and that it’ll turn into four, five, six years. He whispers, sometimes, when nobody’s listening, that he’s made a stone for her in his garden, written on it with black sharpie and trembling hand.

In memory of Barb. 8 Nov 1983

Tells her that it feels dumb, and that he’s sorry, but he can’t remove it because that would feel worse, and that he’s so, so sorry. Because she doesn’t even like him. And he’s kinda come to love her. And because everything about that is wrong, and that she shouldn’t have to be bound to someone she doesn’t like just because she doesn’t have the chance to leave anymore now; because she’s already left, and—

He’s so, so sorry.

And then he leaves. He’s always the first to leave, with Karen’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing as if in thanks or in need for someone to hold her for mourning the girl she’s come to love as a daughter. Steve smiles at her, a sad grimace though it is, and gently squeezes Karen’s hand. Because Karen’s grief is real, and she must feel so much worse.

If he were any younger and had met fewer monsters, had gotten fewer head injuries and near-death experiences, Steve would wonder if worse was even possible. But now he knows. And he squeezes.

In his car, blinking away tears and clawing away the itch under his skin, Steve realises and notices and remembers that only one who never comes is Mike.

So he drives, almost aimlessly; trying not to think of sorries, of empty caskets and lies and NDAs, of murmured comments in the hallways and eyes rolled behind thick glasses and the occasional smile reserved only for Nancy. Trying not to be haunted by could have beens and would have beens and should have beens, and instead remind himself that they weren’t friends. She wasn’t to him what he knows about her now.

He has no right to feel this hollow.

But there’s someone, he knows, who does. Someone who won’t let himself grief, because he was never told how to. Because he was never told it was okay to mourn your older sister’s best friend who practically lived at your house on the weekends for years. Someone who grew up with her, someone who looked up to her, because Barb was a nerd and she was cool!

And that someone can be found sitting on the curb by his house, ripping out strands of grass and littering the street in green blades and clumps. Ted would freak out if the man was capable of one single emotion.

Steve parks the car a good few feet away and walks over — slowly, so it’ll look casual enough to not make Mike suspicious.

“Steve?” the boy says, grimacing up him, squinting against the horrible grey of the sky that is both gloomy and blinding today. “What do you want?”

Steve holds his eyes for a minute, mustering his posture, his chronically horrible posture and the good amount of lawn that’s already fallen victim to his needing an outlet of… whatever he’s feeling.

He nods at the curb, the side where the lawn is still intact. “Mind if I sit?”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I wanna?”

After a while, Mike shrugs. “Not like I can stop you from doing anything ever, so.”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all year, man,” Steve says, unable to suppress his grin, and Mike groans beside him, rolling his eyes in a long-suffering way.

There’s something subdued about him, though, something muted. Suppressed.

And he remembers how three years ago Mike went through the end of the world several times. Will disappeared. Will died. Barb disappeared. Barb died. Will came back, but changed, and Mike couldn’t reach him anymore. Not like before. And then El. There and gone. And Mike, among everyone’s grief and trauma with a hefty dose of his own. Steve remembers, right after, doors slamming and Nancy crying, yelling at her little brother that he’s not allowed to be sad, how can he be sad, when his best friend came back! How dare you, Michael, shut up!

Steve’s never seen Nancy like that — and didn’t, after. It was just that one time, but he’s sure that it wasn’t easy in the Wheeler house for a while. Still isn’t, maybe, with how emotionally stunted Nancy has become, guarded and cold and quiet, dangerous, while Mike turned… loud. Prickly. Like a gaping wound, the blood still seeping from it not in a lethal way but steady nonetheless, and ever so painful, because it was told it’s not a wound at all.

He remembers, too, sitting with Mike afterwards as Nancy sent him away, told him to leave, she’d call tonight but she couldn’t right now. He remembers the twelve year-old boy with a frown on his face and angry, sad, confused tears in his eyes.

“She was my friend, too!”

“Yeah?”

Mike nodded, curling in on himself where they sat on the bottom of the stairs. “I knew her! I shared my pizza with her and we watched movies together and she talked to me about Dungeons and Dragons and about how I could join her campaign, maybe, if she ever gets around to be the dm, and— and she knows things! Knew, I mean. We’d do our homework, the three of us, and Barb would help me when Nance wouldn’t and— She was my friend. She liked books but hates the Catcher in the Rye because Caulfield annoys her, and I don’t know what that means but I know that! I know because…”

“Because she’s your friend,” Steve finished for him, realisation and a new understanding for their dynamic dawning on him. And it’s an awful, awful understanding that makes him feel gaping and hollow in a visceral way.

Mike nodded and sniffled, wiping his face on his sleeve that came away wet and snotty, and somehow that sound never made it out of Steve’s head, and he can hear it even now, three years later as they’re sitting on the curb.

And he’s gaping once more.

“Went to see Barb today,” he says, an offering that hangs between them, a truth for Mike to ignore or build on.

There are not many times Steve’s ever looked at someone and thought they withered, but Mike does. Right now, he does. His face falls, his shoulders slump, and he frowns because anything else would lead to tears and an emotional breakdown he’s been holding off for three years now.

“I don’t care.” His voice is pressed, his face halfway buried behind his shoulders as he throws a handful of grass at Steve.

“Mike,” he says, sounding frail even to his own ears. Tender. “She was your friend.”

“I don’t care!” Mike repeats, his voice even worse. Maybe his lungs are withering, too, maybe the air grows rotten with each lie he tells to protect himself from feeling everything he’s been keeping at bay for three years. Maybe denial has an expiration date.

Steve watches. Waits. It’s what he does, the second week of November.

And then, after a few lungfuls of air that looked like they were fighting him for it, hidden in his arms and away from Steve’s gaze, Mike’s voice breaks.

“They don’t care.”

They. Steve knows. Remembers rather helplessly. Still he asks, “Who’s they?”

Another breath, but this time it sounds like a gasp. Like a sob. “Mom. Nance. They don’t— They don’t care! I don’t get to be sad, I don’t get to see her, I don’t get to think of her without Nancy telling me it’s unfair that I do, without mom giving me that… that fucking look! I don’t get to feel, because I’m a boy and because my best friend didn’t die and that just— that feels like an unfair bottom line, but they don’t care!”

Steve wants to cry with him, because he’s right. It’s not fair. None of it.

Mike hides his sobs in his arms, pulling the hood of his sweater further over his face, like he’s scared to find that the world will start caring when he’s at his lowest.

“And, yknow what’s the worst? I hate that you know. I hate that you’re the only one who knows, and I hate that you’re here, and I just… I hate it.”

“Sorry,” Steve offers after a while.

“Shut up,” Mike says. “You shouldn’t know. They should! Why doesn’t Nancy see? Why won’t she let me? Why doesn’t she know?!”

“I don’t know,” Steve offers, a whispered half-truth, because he does know. Because everything Mike feels, Nancy feels, too. But she also feels guilt and a hole in her heart and her life and her future. She feels the lack of teenage innocence because it was ripped from her, stolen and dragged to another dimension before it was brutally executed.

He can’t tell Mike that, though; not right now. Because it’s not a competition, and it’s not an honest question but a desperate, hurting one.

“Talk to her,” he says at last, quietly, when the sobs have calmed down and Mike has gone endlessly still beside him. “Tell her everything you told me. That she was your friend, too, and that you miss her, and that you feel like you can’t and shouldn’t, and how that makes everything worse. Tell her she’s not the only one who lost Barb. I think she’ll listen now.”

At last, Mike looks up, his face still largely covered by the hood, but Steve can see the tear tracks and he can see the wariness. But also hope. Or yearning, a longing for the version of reality Steve’s just opened up to his mind.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because she’s your sister. Because it’s been three years. And because Barb was your friend, too.”

Another tear, two, three, four, before Mike sniffles again. A wet sound that takes Steve back to three years ago, when they were sitting together and he was watching what was still the beginning of Mike Wheeler breaking over loss and trauma he was never allowed to work through.

“Okay.” A sad little sound. It makes Steve smile, because if he doesn’t smile right now, he’ll cry and scream at the world, burn it down and tear it apart so it won’t hurt Mike anymore.

“Good,” he says at last. “Do you wanna—“

“Can we go to the cemetery?” Mike interrupts him.

Steve inclines his head. “Right now?”

A shrug. He waits. Watches and waits and thinks. Allowing him to find his footing.

“Tomorrow?”

He smiles, warmth and pride blooming inside him, slowly stitching together the gaping wound and allowing him to breathe.

“Sure. Absolutely.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Rather abruptly, then, after a beat of pause, Mike gets up and kicks at Steve’s foot.

“Get up, asshole.”

Steve sputters, taken aback by the whiplash and the sudden change in mood and energy, but he does as he’s told. The minute he stands, he finds himself with an armful of a fifteen year-old, holding on like his life depends on it.

“Thank you.” It’s mumbled into his sweater, sounding wet again, but Steve doesn’t care about that as he wraps his arms around Mike’s shoulders and holds him, too, deciding he won’t be the first to let go.

“Anytime, dickhead, you know that.”

Mike snorts, and it’s better than the sniffle, and it makes Steve smile into the hug.

#stranger things #steve harrington #mike wheeler #steve & mike #barb holland #character study #stranger things fanfic #wow look at me writing a steve mike without background steddie or byler!! growth #dio words #this one will fly under the radar probably but it’s so important to me that mike gets his place in grieving barb too #it’s 1:12am don’t even look at me

[seospicybin]

VIEWFINDER.

PART II

Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. (s,a)

Chapters: Part I

Synopsis: An accidental reunion sets the sparks fly between you and Seungmin, but the relationship takes a turn at the end of the summer and you seek help from your frenemy, Minho. (20,2k words)

Author's note: Contains angst and 2min fighting for you. Enjoy!

📼 Viewfinder playlist.

Summer break has ended and the first time you're dreading it. You are usually excited to go back. You always come with new goals and study plans, starting all over with a refreshed spirit after the long break.

Rina is strangely quiet about you not coming home for days until one day before the summer break ends. When you came home yesterday, she only looked at you for a moment then eyeing the food you brought.

Food is the best option to solve problems and cure heartbreak. She seems to have moved on though or she's covering it well with her usual bright smile and glossy lips.

"Can't wait to go back to university life," she says with sheer sarcasm, throwing her bag onto the sofa.

"Yeah," you half-heartedly respond while pouring coffee into her favorite mug.

"That's weird," she says, folding her legs on the sofa and taking her mug of coffee from you, "You usually would give a speech about how excited I should be."

You dryly laugh and sit on the armrest of the sofa. It feels awkward being with her after living with Seungmin for weeks, you have to keep reminding yourself to be careful around her.

"So... how are you?" You ask, followed by a sip of coffee.

"Feeling like shit actually," she bluntly answers.

So she hasn't fully recovered yet from the break-up, and you feel bad for your absence at such dire times.

"I'm sorry for not being here," you sincerely apologize.

She waves you off and swallows her coffee, "You're spending time with someone and you seem happy so who am I to stop you?"

That puts some weight off your chest and you feel at ease after hearing that.

"Although, I'm disappointed that you haven't introduced him to me yet," she says, narrowing her eyes at you.

You close your eyes as guilt paints over your face, "Promise, I'll make time and introduce him to you."

"Okay, good!" Rina simply responds and starts checking her phone as it rapidly dings with new notifications.

You check the time and it's time to go, you have to ride a bicycle to campus so time management is crucial for you.

"I have class at 8," you announce as you put your coffee mug into the sink and quickly grab your bag from your bedroom, "Bye, Rina!"

You're riding your bicycle while enjoying the warm sunlight when another bicycle almost crashes at you, forcing you to brake and almost sending you to crash.

"It's too early for this, Minho!" You groan in complaint.

"I'm surprised you didn't dress like a biker chick with a leather jacket and spiked boots," he jokingly says, taking a jab at you.

"I'm surprised that you didn't ride a motorcycle yourself."

Minho likes to think that he's that intimidating, well, he could be at times but you're never scared of him. You give him the side eyes and notice that he changes his hair color into soft brown which softens his sharp facial features.

You laugh and click your tongue at him, "I'm not aware that robot gets jealous. They must have updated your software while I was away."

"Me? Jealous?" He innocently asks.

"Buy a motorcycle and grow up, Minho!" You say while paddling towards the gate of the campus, leaving him behind you to not let him drag your spirit down when you need it the most.

Summer hasn't completely left yet and you want to soak as much sun as you can before the weather turns colder but you hope you stay warm inside no matter the season.

-

The time isn't right.

When you have time, Seungmin is busy working and when he has time, you're busy studying. This is why you hate being away from him, your heart aches and is heavy with longing for him. The only way to solve it is by making time. You dash out of the room the second the last class ends and bicycle your way back to the apartment to the point that your legs burning.

Thank God, Rina isn't home yet or she'll ask you a ton of questions before letting you walk out of the door. Remembering how much Seungmin likes seeing you in a dress, you borrow one from Rina's closet and call a taxi to get you to his apartment.

Since Seungmin sometimes uses his apartment as a workplace, he keeps the door unlocked at all times and you push the door with your shoulder while carrying the food you bought on the way with the plan of having dinner with him.

There is no one inside and it's not like you have any other options, you put the bags of food on the kitchen island and grab yourself a glass of water. As you're about to pour yourself another glass of water, the door swings open and Seungmin comes through the door, his hair is disheveled and you guess it's from wearing a helmet.

"Hi," you quickly greet him but keep a space to not creep him out.

"Hey," he says, looking slightly taken aback and you're sure it's because you came without telling him.

"I'm sorry I came without telling you," you say because it's always safe to apologize first.

"I just—"

Now that he has acknowledged your presence and you're not creeping him up for coming unannounced, you walk up to him and kiss him. A kiss that slowly revives you and brings you back to life, God knows you needed it so badly. You gasp when you let go of the kiss, "I just miss you so much."

Seeing his face and not kissing him is impossible, you allow yourself to kiss him again, a little longer than the first one.

"Okay, I'm— I brought us food and we can have dinner together. It's you..." your word trails off as someone appears behind him, a girl with a model body and beautiful long, blonde hair.

"Oh, you have a guest!" You wildly assume, trying to fill in the awkward silence that passes between the three of you.

Seungmin turns to look at her and says, "Can you wait in the studio?"

"Sure," she answers, carrying her purse with her in the direction of the studio with a big sliding door that separates it from his private space.

He then looks at you and says, "Come with me!"

Science says that whenever you get a bad feeling, it's actually anxiety, and as much as you hate to admit it, it could be both.

You and Seungmin sit on the end of the bed, he's softly smiling at you as he fixes your hair. That usually works to soothe you but not now. Your hands are balled into fists on your lap and you just want to vomit all of your thoughts out.

"You're working tonight?"

"She's working with you?"

"It's okay if you are, I'll just go and—"

Oh God! It's happening, you're rambling. It's the anxiety-talking, not you. The only thing that stops you is your body turns against you and makes you choke on air midsentence.

"That is Yoora," he answers, "We worked together a few times and we've been hanging all afternoon."

It's the way he casually shares all that information with such ease that gets your nails digging into the inside of your hands.

"Hanging out, huh?" You almost lose your breath at the end of the sentence.

Seungmin places his hand on yours and calmly speaks, "Before I speak further, can you please keep your mind open? Can you do that for me?"

You nod as you feel your windpipe is closing in and making it harder for you to breathe.

"I like you very, very much," he begins.

"But I'm not used to conventional things. Social obligations and forced conversations. Saying no to all the things I want to say yes to," he shakes his head in despise of those things.

Your mind is scrambled to even try to stick with one thought or any thought for that matter.

"And that includes dating."

No matter what he's trying to say, it seems like the only conclusion you make in your head is that he wants to stop dating you.

"Do you want to break up with me?" You croak.

"No, no," he quickly denies.

Seungmin quietly inhales air and licks his lips before speaking, "I want to keep dating you but I want our relationship to be an open one."

You can't force your brain to work with the lack of oxygen and anxiety taking over, "What do you mean?"

"We're dating each other but at the same time, we're free to see someone else," he explains.

Yes, you do know what an open relationship is but what you're questioning is how calm he is about this. This is how far you let your mind open yet you still have a hard time processing it.

"Look, I'll understand if you don't want to do this but I want to give this a shot. We have the—"

You hold your hand up to stop him talking and take your hands from under him, "Give me a minute!"

Turning your head the other way and look out the window to see your reflection against the dark of the night sky yet you still can't make sense of everything. You look at him and force yourself to smile, "I need time to think."

"Okay," he says with a nod.

You get up from the bed and wipe your clammy hands on the hem of your dress which reminds you of how you made the time to come here only to receive a shocking revelation. Seungmin is trailing behind you as you take your jacket and purse from the sofa. You walk in the direction of the door and see that the blonde girl is unpacking the food you brought.

"Can I eat this?" She asks, not sure if she's asking you or Seungmin.

You glance at Seungmin and then at her, "Yes, you can have it. Please, don't let it go to waste," you say with an edge to your voice.

After what he asked of you, you can't bring yourself to look at him and not feel bitter about it. Maybe it's your fault for thinking you're that special to him.

Seungmin blocks you from getting to the door, "Hey, I hope you know that I meant it when I said I like you," he says.

Well, that only makes you guess how many times he has said that or more importantly, how many girls. He puts his hand under your chin and forces you to look at him.

"You're not like the other girls I know. We were married once," Seungmin tries to be playful but it falls short on your end.

You put on a weak smile for him as you stare into his eyes, hoping he can see how devastated he makes you feel right now.

"Can I kiss you?"

You wonder if his kisses would either heal or break you apart so you nod.

Seungmin caresses your cheek and tells you the answer with a soft kiss on your lips. You look down the second your lips parted and tell yourself that maybe you shouldn't have been curious. That's just you, blessed with inquisitiveness. You read books because you want to know and the more you know the less afraid you would be when faced with a strange situation like this.

However, for the first time in your life, you don't want to know the answer to this.

-

The plan is to stop thinking about Seungmin.

However, the more you try to distract yourself from it, the more you think of him. He's not only invading your head, he's overriding your life altogether. You're hardly studying, you can't sleep, you lost your appetite, you come home only to wallow more in your room. It's been like that for a week.

Also a week without Seungmin calling or texting you, it's like the whole summer has gone away with the season.

When the professor announces that there'll be a quiz today, you're not confident you'll get a good score. Somehow, you let your discouraging thoughts manifest into reality. As you stare at the score written in red ink, you can't even be mad about it. It seems like you're going to keep spiraling down from here.

"Am I dreaming or I saw you got a C minus?" Minho says, peeking at your graded paper from behind you.

You crumple it in your hand and angrily shove it into your bag, not answering him. You're stomping your way out of the class to get away from everyone, and can't wait to go home to be by yourself again.

Your hand is rummaging inside your bag, looking for the key to the chain lock and almost having a breakdown for couldn't find it quick enough to avoid Minho.

"Congratulations Minho, you're smarter than me," you quickly say to him because that seems to be what he seeks from you, a validation that he finally gets ahead of you.

You put your bag into the basket with a loud thud and bend down to unlock the bike from the rack in silence.

"Drinks then? It's on me," Minho offers, standing with one hand on the handlebar of his bike.

"No, thanks," you answer without thinking then.

Minho shifts his weight to one side and slings his backpack on one shoulder, "Hey, are you okay?"

"How am I doing has nothing to do with the reason why I don't want to drink with you. I just don't have time for your self-centered, snobby remarks," you tell him, a little too harsh to be honest.

This is why you need to get away from people, you don't want to lash out at them. The words are out of your mouth, the damage has been done and all you need to do is leave.

You back your bicycle out of the rack but Minho quickly grabs you by the elbow, stopping you before another cycler crashes into you.

"HEY! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO WALK YOUR BIKE OUT BEFORE RIDING IT!" Minho scolds him even though he keeps riding away, unbothered.

He turns to look at you and asks again with his hand on your shoulder, "Are you really okay?"

You don't know why he chooses right now to be nice to you, you shrug his hand away from you and leave his question unanswered.

The heat that usually clung to the air has been replaced with a cool one, you're riding your bike with your eyes staying on the road and your mind wandering away from your body. It's muscle memory that helps you to keep paddling your way home without you having to order your brain to do it so and your reflex is still working when you make a quick turn to avoid two people carrying a big box across the street and in the process, you lost your balance and fall to the side, then onto the sidewalk.

You don't feel anything even after you arrive home and only notice a bruise on your ribcage when you change your clothes.

"Oh, God! That's a nasty bruise," Rina comments as she barges into the room without knocking like usual.

"I fell on my bike," you inform before she gets the wrong idea.

She takes a look at it and touches the skin, making you yelp in pain, "You should put ice on it," she says.

Rina wraps a few ice cubes in a thin towel, then sits next to you on the couch, slowly putting it on your bruised ribcage.

You hiss in pain while taking over the homemade ice pack from her, gently pressing on it, "Thank you!"

"Do not ride your bike for a while," she suggests, looking at you with worry.

You nod because there's no use fighting a losing fight.

Rina picks up her book and instead of reading it, she puts it on her lap. It seems like she has something else to say to you.

"Just say it..." you meekly allow her despite how blunt she can be.

She takes a breath and lets it out until both of her shoulders slumped, "Are you okay?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" You sigh and rest your head back.

Rina puts her book away and turns on the couch to face, "Because you've been acting not like yourself lately. You're always in your room, you're barely talking to me and you don't even care that there's an expired carton of milk in the fridge right now," she lists out all of the things that are way out of your pattern of behavior.

"You always care about everything and now... it's just like you've given up, completely," she sadly adds.

She inhales air and asks again with concerns filling her light brown eyes, "What happened?"

You're not ready to talk about Seungmin to Rina. Not only that you haven't introduced him yet to her but that also means, she will not get the whole picture of what truly happened between you and Seungmin.

"Is it because of the guy you're seeing?" She asks like she's seeing through your head.

Rina is quick-witted so it's no surprise that she knows right away that the source of this change of attitude is an external one. She scoots closer and puts her hand on your knee, "Did you guys break up?"

It's time for you to take a deep breath and carefully answer her, "No, it's... complicated."

"Oh, no," Rina reacts by closing her eyes and letting out a dramatic sigh, "Complicated means it's even worse than breaking up."

Hates it when she's always right but Rina has more experience in dating and romance which automatically makes her smarter than you.

"So what is it? Does he have a problem getting it up? Weird kinks? Oh!" She suddenly gasps in surprise with both hands covering her mouth. She suddenly lowers her voice to say, "Are you pregnant?"

You groan in disgust and quickly deny, "No, it's not that."

Rina takes another guess at it and wipes her hands down her thighs, “Well if it has nothing to do with the sexual stuff then… commitment issue?”

Can’t tell if Rina is good at guessing or if all men have the same basic problem? But it’s taking you aback how spots on her guess is that you don’t know how to respond to it.

She raises her eyebrows at you knowing that she guessed it correctly, “Oh, it’s so classic,” she says with a smirk.

“It’s not exactly that but it’s around the commitment area,” you correct her.

Rina’s forehead wrinkled into a question. As she opens her mouth to say something, the doorbell rings. You both look at each other, trying to guess who’s behind that door because none of you ordering food or expecting a guest.

“I’ll get it,” Rina volunteers and walks to the door to open it.

You wait on the couch in anticipation, you don’t want to get your hopes up, but at the same time, your hopes are already flying higher than your expectation. You hear Rina chatting by the door before walking back inside.

“An attractive young man is looking for you,” Rina announces with a sly smile.

There’s someone behind her and as she walks closer, she steps aside to reveal the person walking behind her.

It’s him, the bruise that reminds you of your heartache, Seungmin.

-

After introducing him to Rina like she wanted, you take Seungmin to your bedroom to avoid Rina eavesdropping on your conversation and close the door behind you. You pull the chair from your study desk to slowly sit on it while Seungmin sits on the edge of the bed facing you. It wasn’t what you expected him to see when he walked in on you sitting on the couch, wounded.

“What happened?” He asks.

It’s not good to second-guess his intention but ever since that night, you keep wondering about the way he treated you. Was he being genuine? Was he faking it just to keep you wrapped around his little finger?

“Fell off my bike. It’s not a big deal,” you keep your answer short.

Seungmin seems to have expected this attitude coming from you and you believe it’s because he knows he deserves it. He sheepishly smiles and nods.

“At least, let me treat it for you,” he says.

You hug yourself to not let him see it, it’s already enough for him to see you’re hurting, “No, I’m alright now.”

He reaches for your hand and turns it to show you the scrape you have on the heel of your palm, “Let me take care of it for you.”

His hand is warm like the last time you hold it but you remember you shouldn’t have let him in and try to retract your hand from his, but his grip is strong. He takes the first-aid kit Rina brought to your room earlier.

Seungmin carefully dabs ointment on the scrape and then blows on it to soothe the pain. You hate to admit it but you long to share a moment like this with him and he’s so tender, so caring, he makes you feel like you’re the only one in the world. He’s still like a dream to you.

Once he safely covers your wound with a bandage, he holds your hand in his with his thumb softly rubbing on the back of your hand. He leans forward and looks at you, his eyes reminding you of summer days, bright and warm.

“I miss you,” his voice is as soft as the breeze slipping through the window.

You’re close to breaking but you put on a strong face, staring him right in the eyes, and say, “It doesn’t seem like that to me.”

Seungmin holds your gaze like you’re holding the galaxy in your eyes and trying to find out what’s lurking beyond the vast darkness. He takes your other hand and holds it on your lap as if it would help him find what he’s looking for.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text,” your voice breaks at the end of the sentence and you can’t hold yourself together again.

“I can’t help but think that you don’t want me anymore.”

And right now, as he stares into your eyes, he’s seeing you wounded from the inside too.

“I just thought you need the space and time to think,” he tells you.

You break into tears and fall apart in front of him, there’s no use in hiding your pain anymore. You melt the moment he holds his arms out for you and into his welcoming embrace where it’s safe and comfortable, a haven.

“I miss you so much,” you admit and your heart shrinks in your chest.

Seungmin pulls you by the hands to let you sit on his lap and not waste time wrapping his arms around you so tightly, forgetting about the bruise you have.

“Ouch,” you shriek in pain and hurriedly put his hand away from where your bruise is.

“How about we lay down, mmh?” he suggests.

Oh, how you miss his scent! He smells of sunshine, leather, and fabric softener, he’s of everything that makes you think of the summer when he took you on trips on his motorcycle. Your eyes are closed as you drink in his scent while he lightly runs his fingertips down your arm.

Seungmin gently kisses your arm and looks at you, “Are you still awake?”

“Mmh,” you answer with your eyes closed.

Endearingly, he puts the strands of hair covering your face and puts it to the side, “I don’t know if you believe this kind of thing but I think fate brought us back together again.”

You open your eyes and his eyes are the first thing you see, “You think so?”

“I waited years to meet you again and I feel there’s something here,” he speaks while brushing away the hair covering your face.

Hearing him being honest and open makes you realize that you owe him for not listening to what he had to say that night. This time, you want to give him the chance to explain himself.

“It’s the first time in my life that I feel this deeply for someone and it’s you,” he says as he puts your hair to the side and holds it there.

"I want to do it right with you and that's why I chose to be honest with you," he adds.

You hold his gaze as he speaks his heart out against the quiet of your room and your hand intertwined with his in the space between your bodies.

“But I understand if you don’t want to give this a shot. I just want to let you know that… I really like you, I do.”

Maybe it is possible to be in a relationship as long as you mainly focus on his true feelings for you and that's the only truth you need.

Who knows that with time Seungmin will realize that you're the only one he needs?

"I like you," you say back to him.

Seungmin brings your hand close to his mouth to kiss you and you use the chance to softly brush his lips with your knuckle.

It's not going to be easy but all you need to do is be more understanding and open-minded, you believe you can do those things for the sake of this relationship, for the sake of you and him.

"And I think we should give it a chance," you give your final answer to him.

A smile rises on his beautiful face and he leans in to kiss you, a soft kiss that pieces you back together and makes you whole. A kiss that once broke your heart but now revives it back to life. A kiss that has found its magic back.

"Thank you," he murmurs and he leans in again to place a long peck on your lips.

Seungmin lends his arm for you to use as a pillow and you're more than happy to comply, snuggling close into his body and leaving no gap between your bodies.

He repeatedly runs his hair through your hair and then softly asks, "Sleepy?"

You hum your answer while tightening your arm around him while he angles your head to place a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

"Goodnight," he says right after he pulls away from the kiss.

How are you going to sleep with the butterflies fluttering in your stomach?

-

It's painful to put clothes on with the darkening bruise on your ribcage.

You're doing your usual morning routine, shower, breakfast, and skipping reading the news to focus on making your coffee. You're nervous about it since Seungmin takes his coffee seriously. It's not going to be as good as his but you try your best to at least make good coffee. You get startles startled when he appears with his eyes still sleepy and fluffy bedhead.

"You didn't wake me up," he says, trudging his way to you.

"You sleep so well. I feel bad if I have to wake you up," you answer.

He stops to stand next to you and sleepily smiles, "Morning!"

"Morning!" You say back with a smile, "Coffee?"

"Yes, please!" He sweetly answers.

You're reaching up for the cabinet to get mugs and yelp in pain, forgetting about the bruised ribcage.

"I'll get it for you," Seungmin offers, getting the mugs easily without having to stand on his tiptoes like you always do.

"Thank you," you carefully fill the two mugs with hot, steaming coffee.

You look at him as he takes a small sip, anticipating his reaction to your coffee, "Is it good?"

He takes another sip before answering, "It's fine."

You let out a quiet sigh of relief and can finally sip your coffee.

"Does it still hurt?" He asks, leaning the side of his body against the kitchen island.

"Only when I lift my arms," you reply.

Seungmin doesn't hesitate to lift your blouse to take a look at your bruise, observing it without touching it because he knows it'll be painful for you.

"Put ice on it regularly," he suggests, slowly letting go of your blouse.

"Okay," you reply.

"Don't ride your bike for now," he adds.

"Yes," you respond with a smile.

Seungmin takes another sip with his hand lingers on your hips, "I'll take you to campus today."

"No, it's okay, you don't have to," you kindly refuse, holding your coffee mug with both hands while looking up at him.

"I'm not asking," he says with his eyes staring at you.

You can't help seeing his hair tousled and not try to brush it for him, you put your coffee away so you can fix his hair.

"I'll finish the coffee and use your bathroom," he says, closing his eyes as you brush his hair to the back with your fingers.

"Clean towel on the top of the rack," you inform.

"Then I'll take you to campus," he continues.

"Okay," you put your hands away to let him go.

Seungmin opens his eyes and finds yours immediately, "Maybe after I give you kisses too," he says while putting down his coffee mug.

You are not prepared when he presses his lips on yours. The first kiss is a long peck on your lips and after that, he repeatedly pecks on your lips, making you giggle. In your peripheral vision, the door of Rina's bedroom is open and she's just standing there watching Seungmin kissing you in the kitchen. She eventually interrupts by clearing her throat.

"Good morning!" She cheerily says.

Seungmin reluctantly stops kissing you but keeps his hand on your waist, "Morning!"

"Coffee!" You quickly grab a new mug for him and Seungmin is kind enough to get it for you.

"Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom," Seungmin says, leaving you and Rina alone in the kitchen.

Rina is staring at you with a wicked grin on her face as you're pouring her a cup of coffee, making you feel uneasy. She waits until the sound of the shower is turned on to start drilling you with questions.

"So, that's the summer guy?"

"Yes."

"He's the one with the commitment issue?"

"Ah... yes," you awkwardly answer.

"I see that the issue has been solved," she says with her glossy lips curling into a sly smile.

You stall by sipping your coffee, "uhm... yes."

"I bet it was with one hot makeup sex," she wildly guesses.

You almost choked on your coffee hearing that because that isn't what happened. Last night, the two of you did solve the issue together then fell asleep right afterwards.

"No," you strongly deny.

Runa bursts into laughter, "Oh, my God! Chill! I'm just glad you stopped looking depressed and unmotivated," she says.

She lifts her coffee mug close to her mouth and adds, "Also glad that I don't have to hire a contract killer to hunt down the person who broke your heart."

You laugh at her words and refill her mug with more coffee to show your gratitude. Rina may seem bold and flippant, but you know that she actually cares deeply for you.

Seungmin holds out his hand to help you hop onto the back of the motorcycle. The campus is not that far so he rides slowly, holding your hand that is resting on his waist to shove it into the pocket of his leather jacket.

Suddenly, you don't want this ride to end, you want to ditch everything and just go wherever he takes you even if it's to the end of the world. You reluctantly get off the bike when he pulls up at the gate of the campus, slowly taking off your helmet to stall the time.

He also takes his helmet off, ignoring how disheveled his hair looks but that only makes him more attractive and you hate that everyone else can see him.

"Have a great day!" he wishes with a bright smile that softens his facial features, making him look like a puppy.

You hand him the helmet and wish the same for him, "You too. Have a great day!"

He reaches for your waist and pulls you close, smiling as he presses a soft kiss on your lips. At that moment, you don't care where you are or if anybody is watching. He holds the side of your face after letting go of the kiss, "I'll call you later, mmh?"

"Okay," you answer with a shy smile.

Taking you by surprise, he kisses you again and triumphantly smiles when he pulls away, "I'm going."

"Be careful!"

He puts his helmet on and you frown because that means there'll be no more surprise kisses. He turns the engine on and rides with the wind that brings him back to you.

-

The promise you made to yourself is that you'll keep your mind open and be more understanding.

There's not much changing except that he calls you once in a while or sends you a text when he's in the middle of work. You appreciate the effort and that he's keeping you in his thoughts. Seungmin has been keeping you on read for hours now and you try to distract yourself by watching a movie with Rina, you even made a bowl of popcorn for you to snack on together.

"It's Friday night," Rina blurts out of the blue with the bowl of popcorn resting close to her chest.

"And tomorrow is Saturday, yes, the point is...?" You half-heartedly ask her back.

"You have a boyfriend now. Aren't you supposed to be out and show the world how in love you are?" She says without looking at you.

"He's working tonight," you lie because it's easier than giving her the chance to analyze your relationship.

She turns her head to look at you and puts the bowl of popcorn on her lap, "Tell him you're alone at home, and trust me, he'll come running!"

You scoff because you know it'll hardly work on him and he probably gets that kind of text already, but they're most likely from the other girls, not you.

Now that she gets you thinking of the other girls Seungmin is seeing, you get up from the couch and go into your room. As you lay on your bed staring at the ceiling, you think of Rina's trick, it may be fallible, yes but it's worth trying. Instead of texting him, you call him and will keep on calling him until he picks up.

"Hey," you sweetly greet him as soon as he picks up the phone.

"Hey," he says back and it's nice that you can hear enthusiasm in his voice.

"What are you doing? Are you done with work?"

"Yes, I've just finished it," he answers along with rustles on his end of the line.

"Oh, that's great. How about we get dinner together?" You spontaneously ask him.

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now," you answer even though you have had your dinner already.

He sighs into the phone and then says, "I promised Lea that I'll treat her to dinner after work."

Your smile fades in a second and close your eyes, feeling defeated, "Okay, then."

There's a pause before Seungmin says something, "How about—"

"I'll see you," you abruptly end the call.

The other day it was Jane, yesterday it was Mila, and tonight, it's Lea. Another day, another girl to be worried about.

You fling your phone until it lands on the other side of the bed and sighs, "I'll see you never more like."

The next day, you have enough of giving other girls the chance to be with him. You wake up early, put on your nicest dress you just bought online, and spend an hour styling your hair, leaving the apartment even before Rina wakes up from her sleep.

You stop by the bakery on the way and buy a few baked goods, you don't bother buying the coffee because he'll only drink coffee he made himself. Except that day, Seungmin tolerated your coffee because it's you who made it. You push the door of his apartment and let yourself in, smiling because he's already awake. He's in the middle of grinding his coffee.

"How many of your muses come over in the morning bearing breakfast?" You say, showing him the bag of food you bring with you.

"Good thing I always brew a pot of coffee," he says in response.

He walks up to you, taking the bag from your hand to put it on the dining table so he can hug you and properly kiss you. One kiss is all it takes to remind you that a part of him is dearly yours and no one can take that away from you. You hold him back and hold on to him, returning his kiss with the same passion.

"Morning," he says with his lips glistening wet from the kiss.

You smile looking into his warm brown eyes, "Morning!"

Seungmin continues making his coffee and it's better to give him the space to do his morning ritual, you use the chance to take a look into his studio. You can see the trace of his works from last night from the lights and the props are still there, his computer is already on and you wonder if he's been up all night working. You return to the kitchen with a cup of coffee already waiting for you and you pull a chair to sit next to him.

"Did you stay up all night working?" You ask in curiosity.

"Kind of," he answers.

You frown and suddenly regret for coming when he needs the time to rest, "I'm sorry for coming without telling you."

He shakes his head and takes out a piece of pastry out of the bag, "I should be the one apologizing for not replying to your texts and the call."

You wave him off, "It’s okay. I was stupid for asking when I knew you were busy."

The morning sun hits him right on the eyes, making them shine as he softly gazes at you, "I want to show you something!"

He takes you back into his studio where he pushes the button to automatically close the windows, making it completely dark with the only source of light coming from the computer screen.

"Please, wait!" He tells you as he operates the computer, pulling a file from so many folders stored on his computer.

It gives you the itch at how unorganized his computer filing is but you hold the urge to say something. You look away and patiently wait like he asked you.

Then the projection turns on and shows moving images on the wall, you can't see it at first but after a moment, you recognize that it's you. These are all the pictures he took of you when you first came here, also the ones he took after he first kissed you that night.

"Is that me?" You ask in disbelief.

The girl in the pictures is beautiful, bright, and happy, it's nothing like you've seen countless times in the mirror. Seungmin hugs you from the back and watches it together with you with his hands wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"It's you," he assures you.

It's like seeing a side of you that you never knew you had but you believe it's because you were in love.

"What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," you delightfully sigh.

"You are beautiful," he says with a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You slightly turn your head to the side at him, "But it's also weird looking at myself, not that this is weird but seeing myself..." you look back at the projection and continue talking, "... like this."

He turns his head at you and says, "Well, you have to get used to this because you're my source of inspiration," he coyly says.

Seungmin must be oblivious to how much his words affect you. Your cheeks are heating and your heart is leaping, it means so much more that he said you're his source of inspiration. In that moment, you believe that it's possible to be his one and only, it takes time but you're willing to wait until he's ready.

You turn around to face him and look into his eyes, there are so many things you want to say to him but at the same time, you can't fathom them into words. You show it through a kiss instead, showing him how much he means to you by passionately kissing him and putting your hands around him to show that you don't want to let go.

Seungmin tightens his hold around you, one hand holding the nape of your neck so he can angle your head as he pleases so he can deepen the kiss and taste you more. He only lets go to let you catch a breath and capture your lips in a kiss again, harder and hungrier than before.

The sound of the door being slammed shut stops the kiss and you see through the doorway that someone is coming into the apartment.

"Am I early or...?" The girl asks.

Seungmin checks on his watch and says, "No. You're actually right on time."

He glances at you and introduces her to you, "This is Yoon. She models for me."

"Ah..." you lowly gasp and suddenly, you feel like you're getting in between them instead of the other way.

"I should go," you hurriedly walk out of the studio.

"No. Please, stay!" Seungmin says.

You grab your bag from the dining table and sling it on your shoulder, "I have something," you lie.

You're aware you have to sound believable when you lie, "I have to go shopping with Rina. She's waiting for me."

Seungmin is following you as you're walking to the door but you just want to get out of there quickly, "I'll call you later. Bye!"

You close the door behind you and never look back, but it seems like Seungmin doesn't bother to chase after you.

-

It's only ten in the morning, but you don't want to go home and risk being asked by Rina why you dressed so nicely on a Saturday morning. You stop by a grocery store and buy a loaf of bread, walking in the direction of the park to clear your head while feeding the ducks by the pond.

"Where are you going with a loaf of bread?" Someone asks.

You turn on your feet and see Minho, stopping on his bicycle to talk to you. You feel horrible for the way you treated him that day.

"To the park," you answer.

"And what are you going to do with the bread?" He asks, eyeing the bag of bread you're holding in one hand.

It's an embarrassing thing to admit but after what you did that day, you remind yourself to be better than shrugging him off.

"I'm going to feed the ducks by the pond," you admit.

Minho looks at you for a moment and nods, "I'll come with you."

He gets off his bicycle and decides to walk it as you both navigate your way through the park to the pond where a flock of ducks swimming by the pond.

"For you," Minho hands you a cup of coffee.

The coffee tastes bland compared to the coffee Seungmin made but you thank Minho nonetheless. You're ripping the bread into pieces before throwing it to the mother duck with her ducklings trailing behind her.

"So this is what you do on the weekend?" He asks.

Minho is wearing a knitted sweater that looks a size too big for him yet somehow it looks good on him. The royal blue color suits him well.

"Not really," you take another slice of bread to shred it into pieces, "I come here when I need to clear my head."

Minho cracks a laugh, "What could possibly piss you off this early in the morning?"

You shrug and toss a big chunk of bread to the other mother of duck.

"I assume it's a who, not a what," he says, then sips her coffee.

He then takes a slice of bread and helps you feed the duck as another flock gathers around you.

"That explains why you were upset that day," he says with a sly smile on his face.

Minho sees through you like you're a ply of tissue which instantly makes him more dangerous than Rina. Also, he is being polite when he says you're just 'upset' when he has the right to say you were such a bitch that day. You refrain from sharing more about how he can easily conclude with a few details and it reminds you to apologize.

"I want to say sorry for that day," you sincerely tell him.

One corner of his mouth curls into a lopsided smile, "It's alright."

It's the last slice of bread you're holding and before the ducks are asking for more, you walk away from the edge of the pond.

"Why are you walking so fast?" Minho asks while fumbling to collect the coffee cups to throw into the trash bin nearby.

"The ducks are going to chase us asking for more food," you turn from jogging to half-running.

The lunch is surprisingly delightful and you get to talk in a civil manner like normal people. Minho ends up paying for it since he pulls his credit card faster than you.

"Let's say we're even," he says.

He offers to give you a bike ride home again but with the previous experience and you've just had food in your stomach, you decide to switch the role this time.

"Only if I'm the one riding," you tell him, not wasting time to get on his bike.

He laughs at your idea, "Are you sure? I'm heavy."

The more he tries to underestimate you because you're a girl, the more challenged you are. You wave him off and tie your hair into a ponytail.

"Just hop on!"

Minho is right to underestimate you. You've been riding the same street for years and only realize now that a few of them are inclining.

"Are you sure you don't want to switch?" He asks from behind you.

You shake your head and pretend to be okay even though your legs are burning from paddling, "Nah. We're only a block away."

Minho silently laughs behind you, "Well, if you insist."

He is supposed to prevent himself from falling but it's the other way, he's holding you by the shoulders to keep you balanced.

"We're almost there!" He says, squeezing your shoulders with his hands.

You can see your apartment building and paddle the bike with the remaining strength you have, wanting to end this torture you put on yourself as fast as you can. It takes everything in you not to crash the bike and pass out on the pavement, you patiently wait for Minho to get off first, then park the bike next to the pole of a streetlight.

"Told you I'm heavy," Minho says.

You shake your head, still trying to play cool about it, "I haven't been cycling for a while so..." you can't even finish your sentence because your mouth is too busy catching your breath.

After a moment of Minho pretending to care for his bicycle when he's actually giving you time to compose yourself. When he deems that you're no longer panting, he turns around to look at you.

"I must say I'm impressed," he says.

Your hands are on your waist as you say, "Don't hold your breath, Minho."

He lowly chuckles and stops himself from continuing, "Now, we're even."

"That's fair," you nod in agreement.

You look at him and slyly smile, "I was lying when I said the ducks were going to chase us."

"I know," he casually says.

"Then why are you running with me?"

"Cause I wanted to," he simply answers.

It's hard to process that there's a part of him that is this easygoing and just so fun to be with. You can't stop laughing at how you only discovered this part of him at a random time and Minho can't help but laugh along with you.

As the hilarity subsidies with time, you take your bag and hold it in front of you, "Thank you for lunch!"

"You're welcome," he responds with a smile that you rarely see on him, warm and friendly.

He gets on his bike and looks at you, "I'll get going then."

"Be careful," you blurt and why would you say that when he always rides his bicycle everywhere, "I mean, yeah, be... careful!"

Minho only responds with a smile, then rides away.

When you come into the apartment, Rina is sitting on the window sill and you guess she saw everything. She looks at you after you lock the door behind you.

"And where have you been?" She asks with her sly smile on.

"Lunch with Minho," you simply answer, walking to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water.

"Dressed like that?"

"I was..." You think of an alternative answer by taking a big gulp of water.

"Yeah," you decide to spare her the reason why you dressed so nicely.

"Now, that you have a boyfriend—"

You hold your hand up to stop her from talking, "Seungmin wouldn't be jealous, I can promise you that," you tell her because that's just the truth.

Seungmin is with a beautiful model named Yoon in his studio as you speak, he's not giving a damn about you going on lunch with a friend from campus.

"It's not that," Rina says.

You jerk your head away and take another gulp of water.

She walks up to you and stops behind the kitchen island, "You shouldn't lead him on."

"Can you not speak in riddles, Rina? Please?" You whine, still exhausted from giving a grown adult a ride on the bike.

"Minho likes you. You shouldn't lead him on," she makes it clear by emphasizing every word to you.

You snort and water almost comes out of your nose, "yeah, sure," you half-heartedly say, then laugh it off.

Rina follows you as you walk to your room then stops at the doorway, "Laugh and deny all you want but you know that it's true," she confidently says.

You smile at her because even if it's true, it wouldn't change a thing and Seungmin wouldn't mind with you seeing another man. But you're not going to do that, you're going to prove that you're the only one Seungmin needs.

-

Gone are the warm sunny days as autumn arrives with the change of the colors of the leaves. You put on your thin coat before going out of the class and on the way out of the building, Minho joins you while carrying his books in one arm.

"Have you read the email from Professor Lim?" He asks as he's descending the stairs next to you.

"What? Did I miss an assignment?" You ask back in panic and fumble to look for your phone from the pocket of your jeans.

"No, it's the invitation to his gathering," he answers.

You stop by the door and step aside, not wanting to block other people from passing by, "I don't think I'm invited," you hopelessly say.

Minho dramatically rolls his eyes at you, "You only failed one of his tests."

There it is! You open to check if it's really the invitation and indeed it is. Professor Lim only invited the brightest students in his class and knowing that your academic presence is a little declining due to personal issues, you can't lie but feel relieved that you're still considered as one.

"It's next Saturday," he says.

"Yes, I can see that," you tell him and continue walking down the stairs.

"So, who are you going to take?" He asks.

"Is it necessary to bring a plus one?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

He shoves his hands into the pocket of his jeans, "You're not going to take your boyfriend?"

It's funny that when you hear the word boyfriend, you don't immediately think of Seungmin, he's your boyfriend but at the same time, he doesn't feel like one.

"I'll try to ask him but I'm not sure," you tell him.

You're heading to the gate since you haven't been able to ride your bike yet and Minho is following you instead of turning to the bike station.

"You didn’t ride your bike today?"

"Popped my tire yesterday and I haven't got time to take it to the shop," he replies.

Even with an extra layer of clothes you're wearing, the cold wind is slipping through you. You're rubbing your hands together to warm yourself.

"Want to get some coffee?" Minho asks.

Having a warm drink in a weather like this couldn't be more perfect, you excitedly nod at his suggestion, "Sounds nice, yeah, sure."

There's a coffee shop one block away from campus and you both exit the campus gate heading that way when a bike stops at the side of the street.

In one look, you know that it's Seungmin even though his head is hidden in a helmet. He lifts the visor and exposes his face, softly smiling at you.

You come up to him, "Seungmin? What are you doing?"

"I came to pick you up," he simply answers, then hands you a helmet.

"Come on!" He says, not asking but ordering you to get on the bike and doing it so confidently.

You remember that you were heading to get coffee with Minho, you turn to look at him while holding the helmet in front of you.

"I'm sorry but can we do coffee next time?" You ask with an apologetic smile.

Minho coyly smiles at you and shoves his hands deeper into his jeans pockets, "That's okay."

You wave bye at him before putting on the helmet and getting on the motorcycle. You feel a funny feeling seeing Minho watch as Seungmin takes you further away from him until he disappears from your sight.

-

Seungmin notices that you're slightly shivering from riding through the cold, autumn air. He holds your hands as the elevator is taking you to his floor. He looks at you with his body pushing you to one side of the elevator.

"You're freezing," he says.

"I'll be okay," you tell him.

He doesn't answer but unzips his leather jacket, putting your hands on each side of his waist next to keep them warm under his leather jacket, "Is it warm enough?"

You nod yet he proceeds to rub his hands up and down your arms. In this enclosed space, he's closing the gap between your bodies with each passing second. He can feel every breath you take and the pounding of your heart in this proximity.

"Better now?"

"Yes," you breathless reply.

His fingertips brush your cheek as they reach for your hair to tuck it behind your ear and you stifle a breath as he holds you there. The elevator chimes and interrupts the intense moment, he takes your hand to lead you to his apartment like you never went there before.

You understand why he seems giddy as he guides you further inside, he has prepared dinner for you with candles and everything.

"I just need to get the wine," he says, going to the kitchen to get it.

"We can order when we're here... why?" You're at a loss for words.

You get used to setting your expectations low so when he does a grand gesture like this, it's nothing like what you have in mind.

"I cooked the dinner," he informs.

"What? You cooked all of these?" You say in awe, looking up at him as he's filling your glass with wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around the room.

"Yeah," he says it like it's not a big deal.

He lights the candles on the center of the dining table, "It's a little cold now but I hope it suits your taste," he says.

It's the way he acts like he doesn't prepare all this for you that only elevates his attractiveness, Seungmin is one of a kind and it makes you want him more. His cooking suits your taste just right and it tastes as nice as the smile he's giving you the whole dinner. You feel content just from being able to have alone time with him.

"Are you working today?" You ask to make sure that no one is going to interrupt again.

"I finished early," he shortly answers.

You let out a low sigh of relief and sip your wine to wash the anxiety down your mouth. You can finally relax your shoulders and truly enjoy the moment with him.

"I have another surprise for you," he announces after wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of surprise because it doesn't always mean good.

"Yeah?" You nervously ask.

He gets up from his chair and holds his hand out at you which you eagerly take. He takes you in the direction of his studio and slides open the door to reveal the surprise.

"Oh, my God!" You gasp.

Seungmin turned his studio into a private art exhibition where he decorated the room with white sheets hung all over the wall and images of you projected onto them.

You cringe the moment you recognize that it's you, "It's still weird seeing my own face."

"Why? You're beautiful," he says as if it's that obvious.

He leads you to the center of the room where you can see the videos he took of you playing on each side of the wall at the same time. They look like dreams from the past but in the best way, you like how it reminds you of those summer days when everything was much warmer, brighter, and less complicated.

You look down and see that he put a bed on the floor, "That's so presumptuous of you," you say as you sit down on the bed.

Seungmin is slyly smiling as he takes a seat next to you and props one hand against the bed, "Well, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

You turn your head to the side and get greeted by his stare, "But I want to do... anything," you say.

He's already gone as you catch his eyes staring at your lips, he looks into your eyes again to say, "That's even better."

Is it pathetic of you to say that you miss being touched by him? Well, Seungmin can see how you crumble at the faintest of his touch on you. If it wasn't a sudden invitation, you would have dressed so nicely and put on a nice pair of lingerie. From the way he looks at you with eyes wide and heavy with lust, you're thankful that the matching underwear you're wearing is flattering enough for him.

"So beautiful," he sighs with his knuckles rubbing the back of your thigh.

He leans down to kiss your neck and chest, pulling away to look at you then sighs, "So warm..."

Only using the tip of his fingers, he places fluttering touches across your chest and murmurs, "So soft..."

He then uses his mouth to make a trail of kisses down the front of your body, stopping when his lips meet the waistband of your underwear.

Seungmin doesn't hesitate to plant his nose on your clothed core and takes a sniff at it. His hand smoothly parts your leg open and keeps it open by curving his arm around it. Through the sheer fabric of your underwear, he traces the bundle of your nerves with his tongue, circling it until it's soaked with a mix of his saliva and your essence.

Impatient, he puts the underwear to the side so he can put his mouth on your wetness, lapping at it like a man with an endless thirst. Lying on the bed almost naked with his head between your legs, you bite a finger between your teeth to muffle your noises.

Seungmin knows how to make you feel good and when he thinks using his mouth is not enough, he adds his fingers to stimulate you more. Your back is arching, slowly pulsating your hips at his face and riding on his slender fingers that curl inside you, lowly moaning through your parted mouth.

"Oh, my..." you sigh with your hands now grasping the sheet under you.

Seungmin takes your hand and slips it in his hair, wanting you to tug at it. He dives deeper into your wetness, his tongue endlessly teasing your clit, and sucks on it hard that earned him a loud moan from you. As the knot tightens inside you, your legs start to press into his head but that doesn't stop him from pleasing you until you cum all over his mouth.

Seungmin drags his glistening wet mouth across your stomach and places kisses on each breast before placing his mouth on you, kissing you so deep that it takes your breath away. He leaves you gasping for air once he lets go of the kiss, going for your neck to plant kisses on the sensitive skin. His hand smoothly pulls your soaked underwear down your legs without you realizing.

You do the same by opening the buttons of his shirt, removing every piece of clothing so you can every inch of his warm skin and taut muscles.

"I dreamed of you fucking me every night," Seungmin whispers.

You giggle as his breath tickles your ear, "Do you want me to?"

He doesn't answer but turns over on the bed and you're lying on top of him, his hand glides down your spine and stops at the curve of your ass, squeezing the ample flesh there as he presses a long kiss on your lips.

Seungmin is underneath you yet you feel intimidated as you're straddling him on the bed, his eyes never straying away from yours even for a second. You begin by reaching for the clasp of your bra on your back and take it off, slowly letting it slide down your arms, then you see that his eyes are slightly faltering at the sight of your naked body sitting on top of him.

Instead of feeling shy, you get a boost of confidence from the way Seungmin admires your body with eyes that light up in fiery desire and hands that endlessly explore places that make you lustfully sigh. You put your hands on his chest and slowly, drag them down, you watch as he whimpers as your hands stop on his abdomen. Your eyes flick at his then down at his hardening member, wrapping your hand around him to slowly stroking it.

You can feel his cock pulsating with desire in your hand, so hard and so veiny, hot all over. The harder it gets, the harder you resist yourself, you take a position and angle his cock into your entrance, wetting the tip by rubbing it down your slit.

Slowly, you ease yourself down his length as a long, breathless moan falls out of your mouth, "Oh..."

You bite your lower lip, feeling overwhelmed by how good it feels to have him inside you and fill you perfectly. You whine as he is fully sheathed in your warm, velvety walls.

Seungmin grips your waist with nails that dig into the flesh. You throw all of your hair to one side and enjoy watching him struggling to calm himself down.

"Do I feel good?" You ask him.

He sucks air through his gritted teeth and closes his eyes for a moment to finally answer, "So fucking good."

Hearing that, you feel confident to continue and you start rolling your hips, back and forth, fucking him like he dreamed every night. Not enough from just watching you fucking him, Seungmin sits up so he can kiss you, putting his hands around you with his head buried between your breasts.

"Even better than my dreams," he says against your lips.

You smile and return his kisses with the same eagerness, feeling his cock engorged inside you as you clench around him. Finding yourself lost in the pleasure as well, you put your hands around his neck as support and change the pace, bouncing on his lap as everything intensifies.

Seungmin takes your breast into his mouth and sucks on it hard, making you tug at his hair at how painful yet delightful that is. He then uses his tongue to play with your nipple before letting it go, leaving your breast wet with his saliva. He looks up at you as his hands grip each side of your waist, "You keep clenching around me."

You cup his jaw and ask, "You want me to stop?"

He shakes his head, "No."

The room is quiet except for the sound of bodies and lips crashing against each other, breathless moans, and the rustles of the bedsheets that hardly cover the bed anymore. With his hand gripping the nape of your neck, he forces you to keep looking at him as you both are closing into your highs.

Your high-pitched moans clash with his low grunts the moment both of you reach your climax together. You collapse onto his shoulder while he holds you close with his arms tightly wrapped around you.

A few kisses later, he gently lays you down on the bed and slowly pulls out of you, his eyes widening seeing his cum dripping out of you. It surprises him how much he cum inside you yet he pushes his cock inside you again before laying down next to you. He kisses your lips and nestles his head in the crook of your neck.

"I feel weird now," you say.

"Why?"

"We had sex with me watching us," you say, pointing at the video playing on the walls.

"I think it's sexy," he disagrees, then kisses your lips.

He props a hand against the mattress to support his head and tenderly caresses your cheek with his knuckle, "Want to know something?"

"Yeah?"

He gives you a soft peck on your lips first before speaking, "I think that we are indeed fated to meet again."

You put your hand on his chest and thinking that it would help you tell if he's being honest, "You think so?"

His eyes filled with nothing but admiration and sincerity, softly staring into yours and making you vulnerable under him, "I think you're the one for me."

Is it a sign that he's ready to commit to you? That you'll be the one and only girl in his life? Or should you hold your breath longer?

"I like you so much," he confesses, then rests his head on your chest.

Nevertheless, you don't want to think about what's coming next. You want to focus on this euphoric feeling of hearing those words coming out of his mouth. With that, you set yourself free and float onto cloud nine.

-

No one knows what time is it because all you can see are videos of you playing on a loop on the walls. You turn to the side and see Seungmin's eyes are open for you don't know how long. He could've watched you sleeping for hours for all you know.

"What time is it?" You croak.

He kisses your shoulder and puts his hand across your chest, "To be honest, I don't know," he replies.

You sleepily chuckle and put your hand on his forearm, "Coffee?"

"Okay," he takes your request, then rolls over to hover above you, "I'll make coffee after a kiss."

A kiss turns into two then three kisses and the fourth kiss escalates things further. The next thing you know, you're fisting the sheet and being a moaning mess underneath him.

Despite the sex revives both of you more than caffeine does, Seungmin just can't start his day without making coffee. The smell is wafting around the room while you're observing his camera collection and pick up one he's lending you.

It's been a while since you haven't taken his pictures and it's just the perfect scene, he's putting on his serious face with his mouth slightly curled into an adorable pout. He glances in your direction at the sound of the camera shutters. You ignore his glare by taking more pictures of him dressed in a white t-shirt with his fluffy bedhead.

"Oh?!" You stop to check why it won't take another picture, slightly fearing that you might have accidentally broken his camera.

He takes it from you to look for the issue, "You run out of films," he simply points out.

Seungmin pours you a cup of coffee first before handling the camera, pulling open the drawer to get a tube for the film.

Before the smell of coffee makes you forget about what you planned to ask him, you look at him and ask, "My Professor is inviting me to his gathering next Saturday and I'm thinking of taking you as my plus one."

Seungmin carefully opens the back of the camera to extract the roll of film, "When is it again?"

"Next Saturday."

He unlocks his phone to check his calendar, "Sorry, I have an appointment that day," he says.

It's not like you expected him to agree to socialize with your Professor. Just a tad disappointed but you understand that he's busy.

"That's okay," you assure him with a smile.

He puts down his phone next to his cup of coffee and takes the tube of films with him, "I'll put this to develop later."

His phone still lights up when he leaves for the studio and you don't mean to be nosy, but it's sitting there so you drag it close enough to see his schedule.

Kayla. 8 pm. Hotel Seville. That's what is written on his schedule for next Saturday. Before he notices that you're snooping in, you lock the phone and put it back next to his coffee cup. He returns to the kitchen, placing a kiss on your cheek as he walks past you before sitting on his stool.

"That looks good on you," he says, eyeing the shirt you're wearing which is the same one he wore last night.

"Yeah, it's comfortable," you reply with a smile.

"You can have it."

"I was planning to steal it anyway," you jokingly say.

Maybe you were over your head to think that what he said is a sign or maybe it is a sign for you to take a deep, deep breath and prepare yourself to hold it in longer this time.

-

The silence lets you dive further into your head and bathe yourself into your thoughts. Deeper and deeper, you're slowly drowning yourself in it until someone pulls you out of the water, taking you back to the real world that is just as harsh and as cold.

"I know I'll find you here," Minho says.

You thinly smile at him and shut the book you're hardly reading, "What's up?"

Minho puts his backpack down on the floor and joins you to sit at the other end of the window sill, it's your favorite spot in the library, "Did you fail another test or do you always look this terrible?"

If your head wasn't so centered around Seungmin, you would have come with a funny retort. You can only scoff and act like it doesn't bother you, to be honest, the only thing that bothers you is Seungmin.

"So, who are you going to take tomorrow?" You ask to shift the topic and your mind altogether.

The gathering is tomorrow which reminds you of the preparation that is still at zero. You haven't found a dress to wear and worse is no one to go with.

Minho fixes the collar of his coat as he says, "I don't think anyone wants to go with me."

That's a lie. The truth is a lot of girls are dying to ask him out and one of them would be more than glad to go with him if they weren't intimidated by his indifferent attitude, his smart mouth that only speaks harsh truth, and a brain that matches the size of his ego. The safe bet is Minho thinks that no girl is worthy enough to go with him.

"How about you?" He asks back.

"I'm taking myself," you answer with a dry laugh.

Minho sharply inhales air through his teeth and shoves his hands into his coat pockets, "Why don't we go together?"

Does it mean you're worthy enough for him? And why does that make you feel somehow... flattered? You look at him in suspicion, trying to guess what he is actually thinking when he asks you that. You eventually give up reading his inscrutable expression.

"But why?"

"Why not?" He asks back instead of answering.

You awkwardly laugh as you put your books back into your bag. There are no written rules where you can't take another guest as your plus one and he's right, why not?

"Yeah, sure," you take on his offer, "I'll meet you there."

It's not like Seungmin is going to mind you're going with Minho.

-

With Rina's help, you found a black dress with an appropriate length to wear to the gathering. She also lends her dainty earrings and high heels to match with it. You hold on to your coat as the cold slowly seeps into you as you walk on the pavement leading to Professor Lim's house.

From afar, you can see that his house lights up brighter than the other house, and cars are parked along his side of the street. You're fifteen minutes early from the appointed time but intellectuals always come early if not punctual. You pick up the speed of your walking when you see Minho standing outside.

"Why are you here?" You ask.

"I'm invited."

You snort hearing his answer, "I mean, why you’re not inside?"

"I'm waiting for you," he answers, a curl of steam escaping his mouth, and tells you he must have been waiting long outside.

"It's cold. You can wait for me inside!" You scold, taking him by the elbow to climb the steps and knock on the door.

Not long after, someone opens the door and greets you, "Hello, I'm Kevin, I'm Professor Lim's husband."

His marital status shocks you more than knowing about his sexual preference and you take his hand for a handshake, "Nice to meet you!"

Minho takes his turn to shake his hand and Kevin is surprised by his cold hands, "It's cold outside. Come in! Come in!"

After taking off his coat, Minho helps you take off yours and does it carefully so as not to ruin your hair which Rina spent almost an hour to style.

"Thank you," you mutter as you turn around.

He freezes for a moment just looking at you before he can say something, "You look nice!"

You're not used to gentleman Minho who knows how to treat a girl. You look at him to give you an idea of what you should compliment on him.

"And you look... not bad," you praise.

Honestly, Minho looks dashing tonight. He wears a black suit and a crisp white shirt, the suit jacket perfectly suits him, showcasing the broadness of his shoulders and the dark slacks enhance the length of his legs.

It's a polite thing to do to greet the host of the gathering and thank him for the invitation. Professor Lim looks more lively tonight than he looks when he's in his class.

"Please write down your answer for the quiz tonight," He says.

Every guest has to write down their answer to the same question. You and Minho take a card each to write your answer and read the question above already written on it.

"The person you would most like to have dinner with real or imagined, living or dead is..."

You know the exact answer that would please Professor Lim since he talks a lot about his favorite writer.

"George Sand," you and Minho say in unison and break into laughter together.

You check everyone else's answer on the big crystal bowl and see that a few of them have written the same answer, it's either George Sand or her full real name just for added impression.

You decide to skip on writing your answer, "I'm going to get a drink."

Minho also ditches his card and follows you, finding the waiter who carries a tray of drinks around the room. He grabs two champagne flutes and hands one to you.

"I always wanted to see his book collection," you tell Minho.

He confoundedly shifts his eyes to the big shelf full of books behind you, "And those are not books?"

You take a small sip of your wine, "He has a study room upstairs and it's off-limit to guests," you lowly whisper.

Minho looks around and spots that the host is busy talking to a group of people and his husband is walking around making sure everyone is enjoying the food.

"Well... it's not exactly off-limits," he says, taking you by the hand and sneaking up the stairs as everyone else is busy socializing.

Professor Lim's study room is located on the third floor, it is supposed to be the attic but he turns it into a big study room and you guessed it correctly, that's where he keeps his dear books. Without turning on the lights, you use the flashlight on your phone to scan the titles of the books, they're well-preserved first editions.

"Oh!" Minho suddenly gasps from the other side of the room.

You turn around and find him cradling a bottle of brandy, it's half full and looks very expensive.

"Let's have a party on our own," he says with mischief written all over his face.

You usually steer yourself away from problems but you really don't want to go back downstairs and try to socialize, talking about intellectual stuff. You just want to dull your mind with alcohol. Minho pushes the window and takes the drink with him, leaving you with no choice but to follow him, hanging out by the roof of your Professor's house.

"Why are we drinking on the roof? It's cold and high, it's a disaster waiting to happen," you tell him.

He holds his hand out at you, "I brought the blanket from his chair," he says, showing you the plaid quilt blanket.

You sit next to him and resist looking down, "And about the height?"

He wraps you with the blanket, then puts his arm around you, "I'll keep you safe."

"Ugh!" You groan in disgust and shrug his hand away from your shoulder.

He laughs and uncaps the bottle of brandy, from the smell of it you can tell the alcohol percentage in it. He takes the first sip, then winces at the bitter aftertaste.

"We share the bottle?" You ask as you take the bottle from him.

"We can't use the glass and leave evidence, right?"

You sigh and reluctantly take a small sip of it, aware of how much alcohol it contains. You hurriedly hand it back to him.

"Let's be honest..." you say.

"Okay."

"What's your real answer?"

"Answer to what?"

"Professor Lim's quiz," you answer.

Minho takes a longer sip this time and prepares himself for the aftertaste, gasping once he swallows it down. He takes another moment to think of an answer.

"Tolstoy," he answers.

As expected, his answer would be one of the Russian writers. You take your turn to drink and hand it back to him quickly.

"You?"

"Since we're being honest, I'd say... Howl Pendragon," you say with a smile.

Minho gives you a judgemental look and sips the brandy without any expression whatsoever.

"We can have dinner on his moving castle and if I'm lucky, I get to meet Calcifer too," you defend your answer.

"Whatever," he comments, followed by a thick cloud of steam.

You decide to share the blanket with him, scooting closer to him and covering his back with it. You cling to the sleeve of his suit jacket and smile, "I have to hold on to something so I won't fall."

Now that the silence resides between you and him, you can see the view from the roof, mostly the university complex and the clock tower in the middle.

"If we were being honest..." Minho says, "My answer would be you."

You look at him and in this proximity, you can smell his alcohol-tinted breath, "You're drunk already."

"No... not really," he vaguely answers, then shrugs.

"Well, you can simply ask me to dinner," you tell him, "It's not like we never had dinner together before."

He gazes into your eyes and asks, "Then what about your boyfriend?"

"My boyfriend is... not really my boyfriend," you cryptically say.

"What does that mean?" He narrows his eyes at you.

You blame the alcohol for loosening you up and let your words unfiltered, "We're in an open relationship."

"So...?"

"So, he's seeing another girl as we speak," you continue.

"That's—"

"We'd better get back," you quickly end the conversation before he can dig more personal things out of you.

Drunk you is dangerous but drunk Minho is way more dangerous. You take the bottle of brandy from him, it's wise for the two of you to stop drinking. You cap the bottle and get up first, helping him walk back into the study room, then put the bottle back where it belongs.

Safely make it back downstairs undetected, you look at Minho and he looks fine, it looks as if he didn't drink a drop of alcohol.

"I need to eat something to soak the alcohol with," he excuses himself to leave your side.

Okay, maybe he is drunk yet you regret telling him about Seungmin and the open relationship thing.

In the middle of Professor Lim's reading the answer to his quiz, you decide to leave early and thank Kevin on the way out. As you collect your coat by yourself, Minho appears from behind you, taking his coat that hangs next to yours.

"Let me drive you home," he sounds as demanding as usual.

You chuckle at him, "On your bicycle?"

"No, I'm taking a car tonight," he says.

Minho isn't joking, he's driving a car tonight and you're sitting on the passenger's side, looking at his hands holding the steering wheel. This time, you conclude that it's not about how hard he grips the steering wheel, Minho simply has veiny arms and you remind yourself to look away before it gets creepy.

"The crab cakes helped you sober up, huh?" You joke.

"I stole a few slices of bread from Professor Lim's kitchen actually," he jokes back.

"Bread absorbs alcohol faster, noted."

The ride shouldn't last this long but at the same time, you don't want it to end. In this space and silence you're sharing with Minho, you feel inexplicably comfortable and safe.

"Do you have plans for winter break?" He asks.

"No."

"You're not going to your parents for holidays?" He glances at you for a second before looking straight ahead at the road.

"They're going out of the country to celebrate it with my sister and their in-law," you answer.

Minho doesn't respond but steadily taps the steering wheel with his fingers.

"What about you?"

He drops one hand and rests it on his thigh, "My parents live not too far away from the city so... you'll see me around."

"Oh, how lovely!" You meant to make it a snide comment, but you say it in a sweet tone.

Your apartment comes to sight and Minho slows the car down before pulling to the side of the street and stops the car altogether.

You unclasp the safety belt and hold your purse close to your chest, "Thank you for the lift home!"

Minho turns off the car engine, then turns his head to the side, "No problem."

Weirdly, you don't feel like getting out of the car, it's warm and quiet in here, and you're not ready to step out into the cold yet.

"Thank you for being my plus one," you add.

"Likewise," he says back.

Your cheeks are heating and you're blaming the car heater for it, not because Minho can't stop staring at you.

"I.. uh-" you lost your train of thought and quickly recover yourself, "I'll see you around."

You're about to push the car door open when he suddenly grabs your elbow. You put your hand away from the handle of the door and turn to face, "Yes?"

"Can I..." His words trail off and he swallows air instead of continuing his sentence.

You chuckle seeing him so confused and flustered all at once, "Are you still drunk?"

Minho lets out a chuckle, "Maybe."

"Want me to drive you home then?"

"Yeah," he playfully answers.

"To be honest, I am slightly drunk to drive a car," you answer, half-laughing.

In the space filled with both of your waves of laughter, your eyes meet and he's leaning in, closer and closer until his lips land on yours.

Minho glides his soft lips on yours, warm and wet, hot breath filling your mouth as you let him taste you more. His hand holds the side of your face with his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek. The kiss is everything you expect to feel when you kiss someone you like. Your heart is fluttering, you feel a tingle inside you and your chest is overflowed with warm feelings.

However, the kiss makes you realize something.

You pull away until Minho's hand slips away from your cheek.

"Goodnight, Minho," you sadly say.

Without looking at him, you step out of his car and into the cold that seeps into your bones, freezes your heart, and makes you numb.

-

Seungmin rarely calls you twice in an hour when he usually calls you at certain times just to keep you on your toes. You've been thinking out loud by the time you reel yourself back to reality, you notice you have two missed calls on your phone. You hit call back and he picks up right away on the second ring, that's also a rare occurrence.

"Hey, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie because it's easier.

You hear him sigh, then say, "I miss you."

That's another rare occurrence. He usually says those words after you say them first to him.

"Miss you too," you hate to admit but it's true.

"You sound unwell. Are you okay?" Seungmin asks with a concerned voice.

Even through your voice, he can sense something is going on with you. You lick your lips and lie again, "It's the cold weather."

He lowly gasps then says, "You better dressed warmly. I don't want you to get sick."

"Okay," you immediately comply but you can't find it in you to engage in a long conversation with him, "so, why did you call me?"

"I can't call my girlfriend because I miss her?" He sweetly says.

Seungmin knows how to make you weak on the knees and you hate that you always fall for his sweet words.

"So that's it? You miss me?" You play along with him.

He laughs and you also hate how your heart rattles at the sound of his crisp laugh, "I'm taking you to dinner tomorrow."

"Just the two of us?" You naively ask.

"No," he answers, "A director of a gallery invited me to their dinner party."

"Oh. How nice!" You hope he can't hear the fake enthusiasm in your voice.

"Also, I have something to tell you," he says.

"You can't tell me now?" You're not in the mood to play along anymore.

"I have to tell you in person," he replies.

"Okay," you get used to setting your expectations low for him and you keep it that way.

"It's something good," he assures you.

"I hope so," you reply.

He thinks you're being playful and chuckles at it, "I'll pick you up tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Stay warm and take care."

"Better be something I haven't seen before as well," you give in to the temptation of teasing him.

"Okay," he playfully copies you.

The next day, you start dressing for the dinner party, wearing a dress you borrowed from Rina while she's busy packing to go home for winter break.

"Want me to help you with your hair?" She offers.

"No, I can't make you miss your flight," you kindly refuse.

You don't put too much makeup on and brush your hair, securing it with bobby pins to keep it neat.

"My taxi is here!" Rina announces.

You run out of your room to bid her bye, "Sorry I can't help you with your suitcases!"

She hugs you but not too tight to not wrinkle the dress, "It's okay. I'll just roll them down the stairs."

You're watching from the window as she waves at you before getting into the taxi. You get back to getting ready, putting your stuff into your purse and Seungmin rings the doorbell right on time.

"Whoa!" He exclaims the second he sees you.

"Come in. I just need to put my shoes on," you inform.

"Wait, wait," he stops you from walking away and pulls you close, leaning in to kiss you.

With your hand on his chest, you gently push him away and say, "We're going to be late."

He ignores your words and kisses you, forcing you to lower your guard down to let himself in again. His kiss heals but also breaks, nothing in between.

"God, I miss you so much," he sighs as he pulls away from the kiss.

You smile at his words and drop your hands to the side, "I still have to get my shoes."

Relentless, he pecks your lips before letting you go. You get a pair of Rina's black heels to match your dress and put them on with one hand against the wall.

"Where's your roommate?" Seungmin asks.

"She's going home for the winter break," you answer and go to your bedroom to retrieve your purse.

"So, you'll be alone in here?"

"Why? Does it give you ideas?" You tease.

"A lot of ideas," he shortly replies and does not hesitate to kiss you again.

The make-out session you had on your couch is what caused you both to be late for the dinner party. You fix your make-up on the car ride and thankfully, they're in the middle of an appetizer when you arrive.

Seungmin introduces you to the one who invited him, "This is Kayla, the director of Rostam Gallery."

"Oh?" You exclaim a little too excitedly. This is the Kayla he met that night Seungmin was supposed to come with you to Professor Lim's gathering.

"It's nice to meet you and thank you for letting me join in," you tell her as you shake her hand.

"The more the merrier," she says, then leads you to the dining room where the other guests have seated around the big round table.

Seungmin gentlemanly pulls the chair for you and takes the seat next to you after, the waiters immediately serve appetizers for both of you even though everyone else is almost finished with theirs.

The lady sitting next to you keeps making remarks about the china and you eventually find out that she's a ceramic artist. You engage in a conversation with her while the rest of the guests are in a heated discussion about some post-modern art pieces.

Seungmin checks on you every once in a while to make sure you feel comfortable, he holds your hand under the table and smiles as he asks, "Okay?

You dab your mouth with a napkin and answer, "The food is delicious. Can't complain!"

The guy sitting next to him leaning forward on the table to take a good look at you, "Seungmin, are you keeping this beautiful lady away from me on purpose?" He says.

You politely smile at him and Seungmin leans back on his chair to introduce you to him, "This is Jim, a journalist."

Jim offers his hand for a handshake and you briefly shake it as you introduce yourself.

"She's my girlfriend," Seungmin adds at the end of the introduction.

Jim seems to be surprised hearing that and smiles at you, "You got yourself uh... a beautiful girlfriend, Seungmin!" He says in a mix of awe and shock.

Seungmin glances at you and smiles, "I know," he confidently responds.

The conversation at the table has changed into great works of Spanish artists and Seungmin is intently listening to everyone talking about it so passionately that he is not aware of his phone buzzing inside the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

You lean in close to let him know, "Seungmin, your phone is ringing."

He reaches inside to check his phone and decides to excuse himself to take the call. The waiter is done serving the dessert and you take your fork to start digging into the decadent-looking chocolate cake.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Jim says, leaning into Seungmin's seat.

You refrain from eating and put the fork down, "Sorry for what?"

"I didn't know that you're Seungmin's girlfriend," he answers.

It gives you the impression that Seungmin's way of dating is public knowledge. All these times, these people think that you're just one of Seungmin's "girl-friend" and not his actual girlfriend whom he's dating.

You manage to put on a smile and say, "That's alright."

"Oh, you must be happy about Seungmin," he shares without context.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, he hasn't told you about the exhibition he's going to hold abroad?"

You slightly shake your head, "No."

"When is the exhibition?" You hesitantly ask.

"Next month," Jim shortly answers.

That means Seungmin is going abroad for it and he doesn't tell you about it. It's embarrassing that he declares you as his girlfriend but you get to hear about him from someone else.

Seungmin returns to his seat at the right time but he seems to acknowledge the chat you had with him, "Jim, you're not trying to steal her from me, right?"

Jim snorts in response, "As if I had the chance against you!"

You return to your dessert and dig your fork at it, cutting a piece of it on the beautiful china. Before you take it into your mouth, you look around at the people sitting on the dining table and think that they're right, you're only his plus-one and nothing more.

As everyone getting too drunk from wine and the night is getting late, Seungmin decides that it's time to leave. You leave for the bathroom and come back to him talking to a girl who's sitting next to Jim. They look rather friendly and she kisses both of his cheeks before she goes back to the dining room.

Seungmin smiles when he notices you're coming his way, he has your coat and purse in his hand.

"Ready to go home?" He holds the coat and puts it on for you, fixing your hair afterward.

You grab the purse from him as you mutter your gratitude, "Yes."

The constant hum of the car heater is what you can hear on the whole car ride as you stare out the window with your head filled with so many thoughts you can't pick one and try to assess it.

Seungmin squeezes your hand and makes you turn your head at him, "You're so quiet."

You thinly smile and think of something to say, "Don't you say you have something you want to tell me?"

He quickly glances at you before looking straight ahead, "Yeah, but I'll tell you once we get home."

"Is it about the exhibition?" You don't mean to spoil it from him but you feel sick the longer you hold it to yourself.

He looks rather surprised that you know about it, "Yes and there's another thing," he says.

"That you will be leaving the country for it?"

He awkwardly smiles, "Yes, but—"

"How did you do it?" You cut him off.

"How did I do what?" He asks in confusion.

There's no going back once you let everything out of your chest but this is it, you're done trying to control your feelings when it's your right to feel angry about what he's doing to you.

You turn on your seat to face him and ask, "How did you kiss some other girls and not feel guilty about it?"

Seungmin decides to pull the car to the side of the road and stops the engine. He looks at you and asks again, "What is it? What is wrong?"

You're tired of swallowing things down and trying to understand when he doesn't even try to do the same for you, "I kissed another guy the other night," you confess.

"And I feel horrible... I feel so bad about it because it feels like I'm cheating on you," you croak with tears getting in between the words.

You shut your eyes tight for a moment to fight the tears from coming out of you but it's a fruitless effort, "What I'm asking is how did you do it? Kissing other girls and not feeling like you betrayed me?"

Seungmin's mouth is agape but no words coming out of it. There's only a sigh and eyes that stare back into your glassy eyes.

"How did you do it?" You raise your voice that it's echoing in the small space of his car. Even with your eyes blurry with tears, you can see that he has no answer to your question.

"You don't even seem to be mad about me kissing another guy."

Tears won't stop coming down your face and you feel a lump blocking you from talking.

You take a deep breath but all it does is make you feel aches inside, "Am I really your girlfriend? Do I mean something to you?"

For the first time in your life, you don't want to know the answer. You unclasp your safety belt, grab your purse, and get out of the car. The cold slaps you in the face with the harsh cold air and you hurriedly hailing your hand to get a taxi, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

From your peripheral vision, you see Seungmin getting out of the car and is about to walk up to you when a taxi stops right in front of you. You immediately get yourself inside and tell the driver to drive, leaving a trail of pieces of broken your heart as you go.

-

You find yourself in front of Minho's apartment an hour later.

It's unclear why you decided to come here but deep down, you know why. It's been days since you both kissed and you haven't said anything to him about it.

Minho probably thinks you hate him or that the kiss was a wrong move on his part when the truth is... the kiss is what you needed to take you back into reality. You knock on his door and wait in anticipation, afraid that he's already leaving for the holidays. After a while, you hear footsteps and someone unlocks the door.

Minho opens the door just enough to show himself and he looks surprised to see you. You're not aware of how miserable you must have looked with your ruined makeup and red, puffy eyes.

"The kiss was right," you tell him before losing yourself in the sadness again.

He opens the door wider to let you in, "Hey, why don't you come—"

"The kiss was nice, the kiss was everything I hoped for and I realize that I do like you, Minho," you admit with a voice that quivers from the cold.

You lick your lips and look at him, "But I also hate it. The kiss... the kiss made me realize that I... I deserve better."

The lump in your throat appears again and it turns into a hot coal as you resist letting yourself cry again.

"That I deserve someone who treats me right, special... someone who doesn't make me feel insecure all the time, someone better, someone..."

Fresh tears roll down your cheeks again and it feels hot on your cheeks after walking a block in the cold.

"Someone like you," you finish your sentence.

You look at him against the hot tears that can't stop pooling in your eyes no matter how much you wipe them with the back of your hands, "But it feels like my heart is no longer a part of my body, I can't–I can't control it, Minho," you say in a frustrated tone.

You close your eyes because what you're about you say next is painful to admit, "I can't stop it. My heart wants him."

You break into sobs the moment Minho pulls you into his hug.

From hundreds of books you've read in your life, it's impossible to find the answers to this: If the heart is no longer part of your body then how can you still feel it aches inside your chest?

-

Seungmin knows that one night is enough time and space he gave you. He knows that if he lets it on too long, he'll lose you and he doesn't want that.

He hits the speed limit as he rides his bike to go to your place and knock on your door only to be answered by disappointment. He calls your phone but you don't pick up, he tries knocking on the door only to get disappointed again.

As a last effort, he hits the call button again and leans against the door of your apartment. He turns around and sees someone he knows, he has seen him with you before.

"You're her friend, aren't you?" Seungmin confidently guesses.

Minho stops at the top of the stairs and stays there, "Yes."

"She's not home. Do you have any ideas where she might be?" Seungmin asks, taking a step closer to him.

Even in this proximity, Seungmin can tell that he knows the answer but he can't decide whether to tell him or not.

"I'm not sure," Minho answers and he turns around to walk down the stairs.

It seems that he decided to do the third option and that is lying about his answer. Seungmin follows him down the stairs and tries to get an answer from him.

"I know that you know," Seungmin says from behind him.

"You're her boyfriend. You should know," Minho nonchalantly says while keeps walking down the stairs with hands shoved inside his coat pockets.

Seungmin sighs to calm himself down but asking him kindly is not working, so he tries another way, "And I know you're the guy she kissed."

Minho lands on the base of the stairs, takes another step, and turns around on his feet, "So? What are you going to do about it?"

Seungmin hates this brazen, flippant attitude and if there's one good thing about it, he knows that he is just a passing fancy for you.

"Nothing," he simply answers Minho's question.

Seungmin walks the rest of the steps and stops right in front of him, "Because I know she likes me better than you!"

Minho tilts his head to meet his stare and laughs, he licks his lips before talking right into his face, "But I treat her better than you."

That gets on Seungmin's nerves that he grabs fistfuls of Minho's sweater and pulls him close, "You know nothing. Your words mean nothing to me. Just tell me where she is!"

Minho takes his hands and puts them away from him, "You don't deserve her. Why would I tell you where she is so you can break her heart again and again?" He raises his voice louder than him.

The first one, he let it go but this is his second strike and he makes the third strike when Minho decides to leave him behind. Seungmin just can't allow this anymore, he chases him outside and pulls him by his coat.

In the next second, it turns into a childish fight of pushing and shoving each other, making a scene that the passerby can't ignore anymore. Minho lets go first and takes a few steps back away from Seungmin.

"If you want to play around and date as many girls as you want, just let her go! You don't deserve her!" Minho shouts at him.

Seungmin is going at him but a stranger holding him back by his arms, "You know nothing!"

Minho yanks his arms away from the people who broke away from their fight and comes up at Seungmin, "I know everything! She went to my place last night and told me everything!"

Minho lowers his voice to not let people hear what he's saying, "You know what? She's right about everything. You didn't even mad about me kissing her."

Seungmin's heart drops that Minho indeed knows about everything. He feels it now, the betrayal. This is how you must've felt last night.

"And you're about to leave her too, right? You're going out of the country, running away from commitment like you always do," Minho says with a snide smile.

"Fuck you!" Seungmin curses out of anger, "I'm not running away from her."

People are coming to break the fight again but Seungmin tells them to stay back. He calms himself down by taking a deep breath and looks at Minho again, "I'm taking her with me and I was about to ask her if she wants to go with me when she suddenly admitted to kissing you!"

Minho looks away and lets out a snarky laugh, "You think a vacation will fix everything?"

"No," Seungmin answers while daringly looking into his eyes, "but I planned on telling her that I'm ready to commit to her."

The smirk on Minho's face gradually fades and his jaws clenched, probably holding in the urge to go at him. But he knows he has no right to prevent him from seeing you.

Minho goes for his bike parked next to the bench and Seungmin hopelessly follows him, "So, please, tell me where I can find her!"

Minho unlocks his bike and walks it to the side of the road, he turns to look at him and considers whether to tell him or not.

-

It's like someone has punctured your lungs, no matter how much you breathe, you keep losing air. If anything, you find it hard to breathe.

You look down at the ducks swimming on the pond, munching on the pieces of bread you throw onto the pond and it's floating on the surface of water.

You feel jealous at how easy things are for them, they only have to follow the natural law of finding their mates and procreate. No rules, no games, no tricks, no complications, no heartache. It's as simple as that.

You throw the plastic bag into the trash bin and think of taking a walk around the park before heading back home. It's cold for a walk but it's better than wallowing things in your room, all alone.

White steam escapes your mouth as you let out a sigh and rub your hands together to keep them warm when you feel a hand grab you by the shoulder.

You look over your shoulder and see the last person you want to see, Seungmin.

"Why are you out in this cold?" He asks, taking his gloves off so he can put them on you.

You take your hands away and sadly tell him "It's too late for that, Seungmin."

He ignores your words and slips his glove into your hand, "I'll always care for you."

"And for other girls too, apparently," you add.

Seungmin holds your gloved hands in his and waits until you look him in the eyes before speaking, it takes a minute until you eventually trapped yourself in his gaze.

"You didn't let me talk last night," he says.

"That won't change a thing. I'll never understand you, what you want..." you tell him.

This time, you put on a tough face and even tougher heart, you have cried enough for him. You refuse to cry again for him.

"I'm not a stop along the way, Seungmin. I'm a destination. I want you for me and me only but if you want to keep going and see where it takes you, then I beg you to please let me go," you rest your case with a steadfast heart.

"You either stay or leave and I'm afraid this is your only chance to decide," you give him the ultimatum and turn the table back to him.

It feels lighter now that you have let everything out of you and both decisions would cost you pain but it's worth knowing the answer to this.

"Can I talk now?" Seungmin asks and you must admit that he puts on a different kind of serious expression than the one he makes whenever he's making coffee.

It's only fair that you listen to what he needs to say, so you nod and let him talk.

"Last night, I was going to tell you about the exhibition and that I'll be leaving soon to prepare it," he begins.

He fiercely looks into your eyes as he steadily holds your hands, "then you left before I got the chance to say about the things I really wanted to tell you."

You swallow air and feel a pang of guilt inside you. You did act selfishly last night, you can see it now after he pointed it out to you.

Seungmin takes something from the inner pocket of his leather jacket, flight tickets, two of them. He shows it to you and smiles, "I was about to ask you if you want to go with me."

He inhales air before continuing to talk, "I'll be working most of the time but I think of us spending Christmas and New Year together..." he pauses to sniff from the cold air, "And I can't think of spending it with anyone else but you."

He pits the tickets back into his leather jacket pocket and shifts his focus back on you again, "I know you must have been so confused with this open relationship thing but if you give me more time, I know I'll be more certain with my feelings."

He squeezes your hands to emphasize how much he means his words, "Give me one more chance to prove it to you, to show you that I want to stay."

It's so hard with his eyes softly gazing into your eyes and they're warm and earnest, he's so open and honest with you. But you can't find the answer in him, you have to look into your heart and ask it if it's still what it wants.

There's only one way to find out.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, with pleasure," Seungmin replies with an enthusiastic smile.

You take a step closer and close the gap of your bodies. You lean in and kiss him, letting yourself immerse in it to get what you want.

This time, the kiss will neither heal nor break you. This time, the kiss will tell you the answer.

-

The last time Minho saw you, you were putting in your suitcase into the trunk of a taxi and that was when he told himself that it was time to wave the white flag.

Frankly, he admitted defeat when he told Seungmin where to find you, that you must be feeding the ducks by the pond and it seemed to be leading you to agree on going away with Seungmin for the holidays.

It's what your heart wants and Minho only helped you get it.

There's a week left in winter break but snow has just started piling on the pavement he walks on. Minho wraps himself in layers of clothes and shields himself from the cold by hugging himself while listening to the crunch of the snow as he steps on it.

The plan is to return some books he borrowed over the holidays and let the librarian lady take care of them as he browses for more books to borrow.

Something tells him that he needs to check somewhere where he knows that he'll only meet disappointment. Yet he follows his heart and lets it take him to where you usually would be.

Minho almost laughs because of how vivid the imagery is. He sees you there, sitting on the big window sill with your feet pulled up and your breath fogging the glass.

Wait... does Minho see what he wants to see or is it real? Either way, he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him so he refuses to believe, turning around on his heels.

The sound of your voice calling his name shatters his doubts, "Minho?"

It takes him a moment to get himself together and turns around to answer your call, "Yes?"

Now that he sees your smile and it's aimed toward him, he no longer thinks his eyes are playing tricks. It is what it is, it's you, right there and he's walking towards that smile.

"I thought you're still on holiday," You say and hold your book close to your chest with your hand covering the front of the book, he can't see the title.

It should be him asking that question. Shouldn't you be in another country and spend the rest of the winter break with your boyfriend?

"You know me. I like seeing books more than seeing my family," he half-heartedly says with a sheepish smile.

"Roasting yourself, huh? That's new," you say with a low laugh.

The view outside the window of tree branches covered in the show makes a picturesque background as you put your feet down the window sill but all he sees is you.

"I haven't had breakfast," you suddenly share.

"Why not?" He asks back.

"I have nothing in my fridge so I only had coffee," you answer while looking up with eyes that shine for him, "Do you have anything in your fridge I can eat?"

It takes no genius that you're asking him to cook breakfast for you but it would be stupid of him to pass the chance.

"No," Minho answers, then hoists the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder, "But I can cook them for you."

-

It's almost noon to be considered a breakfast so Minho cooks lunch for two while you're playing with his cats on the carpeted floor.

"I'm fun when I'm sober, right?" You coo at the eldest of his three cats, softly scratching her belly with your fingers.

He silently watches from the kitchen as he prepares the table smiling without him realizing it. He snaps himself out of it and announces, "Lunch is ready!"

You get up from the floor and dash to the sink to wash your hands, pulling a chair from the dining table and sitting on it. You take a whiff of the steaming bowl of soup Minho cooked and hum in delight, "Whoa. Smells so good!"

Minho sits on his chair after getting a pitcher of water to the table and he sees that you're waiting for him to start eating, "Aren't you hungry?"

"Thank you for the food!" You say in gratitude and with that being said, you pick up your spoon to start eating.

Maybe it's the cold weather, maybe it's the hot soup that he's eating, but Minho feels warm, inside and out. He believes it's mostly because he's enjoying the company he's with who's heartily eating the food he cooked.

"I ate too much pie and cookies at Rina's," you share out of the blue.

"Rina's?" He asks with a puzzled look on his face.

You nod and put down your spoon to drink your water, "Where did you think I spent the holidays?"

That gets him thinking for a moment. What answer should he give you? An honest one where he thought you went away with your boyfriend and possibly admits that he got a little heartbroken about it or play it cool like he usually does?

"I saw you leaving with your suitcase so I thought..." he skips on finishing his sentence.

"Ah..." you take another sip of your water and put the glass down.

"Well, that was me going to the airport to crash Rina's family's Christmas," you sheepishly answer.

Minho doesn't know how to say it without getting his hopes up yet he dares himself to ask, "You didn't go with him?"

Your eyes are nowhere looking at him but he sees a sad, profound smile on your face, then you shake your head, "He may be what my heart wants but he's not what I need."

In that moment, something is filling his chest, something warm, something that makes him feel like he can finally breathe again. Minho is hopeful once again.

"For the record, I offered to help with the dishes," you tell him, placing a mug of coffee you made for him on the kitchen counter.

Minho dries his hands with a cloth before leaning against the kitchen counter next to you and sipping his coffee, watching his cat lying under the hazy sunlight coming through the window.

He steals glances at you and hesitates to ask how you're feeling about your unexpected decision, "How are you doing?"

You inhale the air before answering, "I'm doing better than I expected actually."

Minho doesn't even think about how things will be going from here but hearing that you're doing fine puts him at ease. He has so many things to say but it's wise for him to not rush things, he's certain that you still need time.

You turn your head to look at him and say, "I've just finished reading something this week and it surprised me how much I enjoyed it."

You have one hand on your chest while the other holding your coffee mug, "It's a play and there's this line that deeply resonates with me."

The way you stare into his eyes enchants him to stare back into yours, there's a space between your bodies but looking eyes to eyes like this makes him feel closer to you in a sense.

"It says... 'If ever my life can be of any use to you, come and claim it.'."

Minho recognizes the lines right away. It's from one of his favorite writers. He gets flustered and smiles, "You read Russian literature now, huh?"

"Yeah, guess I'll be as boring as you now," You softly laugh and put down your mug on the counter next to him.

"I think it's my time to leave," you put your hands on the edge of the counter and accidentally nudged him.

Minho doesn't want to let you go again so he holds you by the fingers and looks into your eyes. His mouth gets ahead of his brain when he blurts out, "Stay."

He holds more of your hand in his and brings himself closer to you. With eyes that look deeper into your eyes and a heart that knows what it wants, Minho says, "I want you to stay."

He sees the doubt and fears in your eyes, he would understand if you chose to leave, and for once in his life, it's okay for him to lose to you.

To his surprise, you hold his hand back and say, "Well, why don't you come and claim it?"

If Minho knew that all he had to do was to come and claim it, he would have done it sooner. But right now is not too late so he closes the gap between your bodies and puts his hand on the side of your face.

With such love, he cups your cheek and swipes his thumb across your lips which he dreamed of kissing a million times, asleep or awake. This is not a dream yet you still feel like one.

The moment your lips meet again, it thaws his heart and his worried mind. He pulls you close and puts his heart closer to yours, two hearts beating as one with mere flesh and bones in between.

You are of words that create a poem and the sentiment it has between the lines, you are the allusion in his written life in which Minho has now come and claimed.

-

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Close in the Distance // Poly Drabbles

multichara x gn!reader wc: ~1650 characters included: jill, leon, chris, claire, rebecca, carlos, ada pairings highlighted: jill & leon, jill/claire, jill/chris, jill/carlos, chris/leon, chris/rebecca, leon/ada, leon/claire ada refers to the reader as gorgeous but i consider that a pretty gender neutral expression, ymmv. i'm kind of throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks with this, but i hope you enjoy it! i know i had fun writing it. i'm gonna go see fnaf and play splatoon until my eyes bleed lmao

Ada & Leon

Ada runs just as easily as she pulls you down to her bed. Leon leaves you with much more reluctance, but he leaves all the same. The note he leaves pinned to the fridge with a fish-shaped magnet from your last vacation (Roatán, blissfully uninterrupted by Leon’s work. Ada’s shadow darkened your doorstep two days before your flight home. She arrived in the night; you think you dreamt her arrival, her muted argument with Leon, but when you wake it’s with her arm draped across your waist. "Stay put, gorgeous," she tells you, her voice a sleep-addled rasp at your ear, "Leon's getting breakfast.") dripping with remorse and guilt.

On a rare reunion, you slip away to give them time to themselves and Ada reels you back in with an arm around your waist, tucking you securely between the two of them. They race for the same cheesy joke just to hear you laugh and exchange warm glances over your shoulder. You pray one day you will wake and they will both be there. You pray that one day you stop collecting the pieces they leave behind to remember them by.

Claire & Leon

Claire and Leon are in and out of each other's lives so often that you could tell time by it. Thanksgiving together and Christmas apart, a New Year's reunion obfuscated by the fizzle of fireworks overhead. Claire holds your hand in the crowd, Leon’s hand at the small of her back to guide the both of you. She leans close to be heard over the cheering of the crowd, promising to kiss you first at midnight. Leon doesn’t seem to hear, but he spins you away from her when the clock hits midnight, stealing the first kiss of the year, smiling against your lips as Claire whines and smacks his arm.

Days later, Leon tells you, "we're both in the doghouse now," when you come home to an argument and refuse to pick a side. Centrism is the biggest crime of them all to Claire, and Leon’s apologies are in short supply. You fall asleep with him on the couch, and when you wake with a pillow under your head and Claire’s humming drifting from the kitchen, you know that you are absolved.

Chris & Leon

Chris and Leon thought this arrangement was fine until their own unresolved feelings bubbled to the surface, their entire friendship recontextualized in the span of seconds over cheap beer. You lean against Chris’ shoulder, watching the gears in Leon’s head turning. A realization years in the making happens in the span of minutes for you, and it takes only a little bit of careful probing to understand that it’s mutual. 

They both drag their feet, men who know how easy it is to wreck something as fragile as this, neither willing for their hands to be the ones that break this time. To be direct is to be dismissed. Chris brushes off assurances that you don’t mind and Leon has told you in no uncertain terms to drop it. You feign tiredness one night and slip away, leave them to themselves, and like clockwork, they ask to speak with you about something the following week. Smug is an understatement. Your playful ribbing is worth putting up with if it means the three of you can move forward together - even if it means the porch swing is a little more cramped from now on.

"Don't let that one go," Chris teases, his eyes squinting in a smile.

"I don't think I can," Leon says. He means it to be a joke about the way you cling to his arm, but his voice too soft, too enamored for the intended effect, his eyes too warm.

Jill & Leon

Jill and Leon see too much of themselves in each other to ever understand the appeal, but god, do they love you. For a long time they operated on separate schedules. You had called it a custody arrangement once, a joke that you came to regret with every fiber of your being because the both of them had latched onto it and neither of them know how to let a joke die with dignity. The first sign of change is a text from Jill, sent at three in the morning (a difference in timezones she didn’t bother to calculate, you’re sure). An offer, their stupid custody joke to break the ice -  I know it’s your weekend, but that movie they want to see is coming out Saturday and I’ll be stateside. Do you mind if we go? You can come too.

It hadn’t been a good movie, some forgettable action movie you had laughed about all the way home, but ever since that night they had been more open to nights together. That’s how you wound up with your legs over Leon’s lap, your head against Jill’s thigh, Leon’s thumb tracing a lazy pattern against your ankle and Jill’s fingers carding gently through your hair. Their hands meet in the bowl of popcorn and Jill relents. Leon insists, no, after you, his tone as dramatic as the sweep of his hand. You can envision the way Jill rolls her eyes without picking your head up, and before they can devolve into a familiar back and forth, you chime in sleepily. "What, are you guys five? If you were going to get cooties, you’d get it from me."

Jill & Chris

“Wrong side,” Jill reminds you, indicating to her own ear. She doesn’t even need to look up from her breakfast. You click your tongue and move to Chris’ left instead, repeating your question louder, clearer. They move so fluidly around each other, nearly two decades of trust informing every word, every look, every action. At times it feels like they inhabit the same body. It's all you can do to try and fall in step with them. They make space, slow their pace, guide you where they have to. Chris is ever the worrier, but it’s Jill who watches you like a hawk when the three of you are out, who grips your wrist loosely and nudges you up with them, never letting you fall behind. Unhurried time together is short on supply, but you cherish every moment of quiet, every laugh, every old story they have to explain to you, you cherish the hurt and the pain, the grief that they try to borrow from each other, all the things they would rather forget yet choose to trust you with.

Jill & Claire

Jill is an expert in handling Redfields, but she can take them apart just as easily. She says she’ll teach you one day. A well-placed ‘got it out of your system’ during an argument starts Claire’s rant all over again. A hand at the nape of her neck, curling her into Jill’s side to calm her. Jill’s methods are effective, but they’re hers. You weave your own way between them, fingers interlocking with Claire’s, palm flat against Jill’s, the way each of them prefer. Jill will drink her coffee anyway she gets it, things like preferences and personal taste feeling like an afterthought to her after so long of nothing but survival, but you see the scrunch of her nose when it’s too dark, too bitter. You slip sugars and cream one cup at a time until you find the perfect blend, and it doesn’t take Claire much longer to catch on to your discovery. There was peace before, and there can be peace again.

Jill & Carlos

"Not that one," you tell Jill, swatting her hands away as she tries to pack one of your many stuffed animals up, the small army having taken over most of the bed. "Carlos got me that one." Jill rolls her eyes, muttering that they're all from Carlos. His absence is filled with plush toys, cheap, soft substitutes for his presence - but at least he tries to fill the void. Jill becomes a ghost when she's away for work, insisting her silence is for your benefit. She comes back to you battered, vacant, and she asks you what you've been up to as if she might fill herself with your memories instead.

If it weren’t for Carlos, you would have no idea how she’s really doing. He has her back, he assures you, and you wonder if he’s reminding himself as well, if the distance she forces (for your own good, she repeats, her tone firmer) bothers him as much as it bothers you. Pulling her back to you isn’t always easy, but Carlos is a steady presence at your side. His gifts for Jill are fewer and farther between - Jill told him to cool it, by his own admission - but you notice as she thins out the stuffed animal militia, she leaves the dog plushie he had gotten her right where it is.

Chris & Rebecca

Rebecca drags you through the aisles of a department store, stuffing colorful paper decorations into the cart you push. Chris is coming home - properly coming home, not just a quick stopover between flights. Rebecca wants to surprise him, and you worry he’ll be too tired. You worry his assignment took a turn for the worse, that the last thing he needs is a fuss when he’s barely had time to process the aftermath. Rebecca assures you it’s fine. She insists she wouldn’t be doing this if everything hadn’t gone well. You reach for the pink and blue streamers on the top shelf, dropping them with the mish-mash of other supplies in the cart as she tells you more and more about the assignment. “I think that’s supposed to be classified, Becca,” you remind her. She shushes you, a finger pressed to her lips. You make a detour to pick up a case of beer, making a bet with Rebecca on how long it will take Chris to ask for a cold one. Chris arrives on time for once, no delayed flights, a blissfully short debriefing at base. He drops his duffle bag the second the door is shut, eyes cutting to the fridge. His arm winds around your shoulders, tugging you into a hug. 

“Guess you missed me,” he says, taking in the decorations. Rebecca patters in from the kitchen, spreading her arms wide to gesture at the apartment, transformed briefly into a discount Party City. He’s tired, it’s clear, but he laughs all the same. It only takes five minutes - as you predicted, shooting a successful smirk at Rebecca - for him to ask, “Hey, any beer in the fridge?”

#resident evil imagine #resident evil x reader #jill valentine x reader #carlos oliveira x reader #chris redfield x reader #claire redfield x reader #ada wong x reader #leon kennedy x reader #rebecca chambers x reader #poly fic #resident evil #i have no idea what to tag this im gonna be honest #the temptation to add leon & hunnigan was strong but i resisted. you're all safe from my hunnedy agenda. FOR NOW.

[luxaofhesperides]

ghostlights prompt with "it's okay, you're safe now" hurt/comfort?

It takes over a month to find Danny. 

Thirty seven days of panic and ever growing dread, searching for him every single day. Duke hasn’t felt this way since he was in foster care, running away from whatever home he got placed in to search for his parents. 

The first week was spent trying to find any trace of Danny, working on nothing but his last few messages and a voicemail he left Duke, where all he said was a whispered, Call me back when you can. I might just be paranoid, but I think someone’s following me. I’m walking home right now. I… I don’t know, I feel a little sick, Duke, I— And then static before the voicemail ends. 

There hadn’t been any sign that Danny made it home. No cameras caught sight of him after he walked past a bus stop. No one around on the streets to tell him what happened. 

One moment, Danny was there. The next, he was gone.

He had to recruit the rest of the Bats into searching for Danny, and his guilt of outing Danny as a meta (half ghost, as Danny called himself) was easily buried under his desperation. Duke knows the statistics. The chances of finding someone after three days drop drastically, and after enough time, it’s safe to assume they’re dead even if people keep searching. 

Jason promised to interrogate some traffickers moving outside of Crime Alley, updating Duke weekly on any other kidnappings that might be related to Danny’s case. Tim had been checking around Danny’s neighborhood, slipping in and out of spaces to gather information, leaving behind cameras and bugs on the off chance the kidnappers came back to the area. Barbara hacked her way into the messages of traffickers, trying to find any mention of Danny. Even Bruce had gotten involved, looking into Danny’s background to see if there was anyone that might be connected to his disappearance.

Vlad Masters wasn’t a lead. He had no idea Danny was missing when they called, and he ended the call immediately to begin his own search.

Thirty seven days.

Duke didn’t want to lose hope, but all he could think about were the empty spaces in his life where Danny once was. 

And now, on the thirty eighth day, Duke jerks awake as his cell phone rings at max volume and he scrambles to get it. He’s not risking another missed call, not after Danny disappeared. 

He doesn’t have time to say anything once he accepts the call before Jason is saying, “We found him Duke. Babs is sending the location to the GPS of your motorcycle. Suit up and meet us here.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s…” Jason hesitates. “He’ll live. But these fuckers did a number on him, from what we've read in their files. We’re waiting for you and the others to get here, and then we’ll take them out while you get your boy to safety.”

“I’m on my way,” Duke says, already pulling his suit out to get changed. He hasn’t bothered to bring it to the Batcave for weeks, spending most of his time out on the streets as the Signal. It’s just easier to have it on hand than to go to the Batcave to suit up, or to leave it in the Hatch. He chucks his phone back onto his bed and is jumping out the window of his apartment just a minute later, dropping down to street level just as his motorcycle pulls up on the street.

He’ll have to remember to get Babs a gift basket or something when this is all over. It’s the least he can do after she’s helped him so much over the past month. 

“Thanks, Babs,” Duke says into his comm, switching it to a private line with Oracle. She hums an acknowledgement, but otherwise doesn’t respond. Not that Duke has much in him for conversation; all his focus is on Danny, Danny, Danny.

The GPS on the motorcycle leads him to the outskirts of GCU campus, in one of the buildings that had been closed off after a fire earlier in the year that they still haven’t fixed due to the amount of mobsters who liked to pass through it, using it as a drop sight for arms deals. Red Hood leans on the chain link fence surrounding it, watching as he approaches.

Duke all but jumps off the motorcycle to reach Red Hood, barely remembering to turn on the cloaking to hide it from sight.

“Where is he?”

“Basement,” Red Hood answers, and even through the helmet, Duke can hear the tightness in his voice that means he’s doing his best to hold back his rage. “Red Robin and the Batgirls are in there, getting Oracle access to their computers. They’re going to make sure no one slips by us. I’m going to make them wish I had been kind enough to kill them, and you’re going to take your boy straight to the Batcave where the Doc is waiting with Alfred.”

It’s not much of a plan, but Duke trusts the others to do what they need to do. All he cares about is getting Danny out of there. 

“Lead the way.”

They scale the fence easily, and there’s no one on the upper levels when they walk in. Not even a single camera to alert anyone to their entrance. Red Hood leads him down a stairwell, ignoring the way the shadows around them move on their own, Duke’s agitation making them twist into some dark nightmare. 

He sees the flicker of light as soon as they step out into the basement hallway. All the light bulbs above their head are broken, covering the floor in sharp glass, and doors going down the hall are all left open, some barely hanging onto their hinges. The building is a wreck, graffiti decorating portions of the wall, and it looks abandoned. He would bet even mobsters avoid coming down here; it’s all sorts of health hazards.

Normally, he’d be cautious. He would sneak through the wall, sticking to the shadows and staying hidden as he went deeper in, ready for anything. 

Duke hasn’t been thinking clearly in weeks. He sees the light, the soft white glow he associates with Danny, and tears after it like a man possessed. 

Distantly, he hears Red Hood curse behind him, and then he’s turning the corner, feeling the familiar burn in his eyes as his powers kick in and let him see the small ball of light flickering weakly as it guides him through the basement level. 

Red Robin and Batgirl’s voices fill his helmet and Duke doesn’t waste a second in muting his comm; if there’s a problem, they can work it out with Red Hood. Now that he’s so close to Danny, he’s not letting anything get in his way. 

The first guy he runs into is a surprise. Clearly a scientist, judging by the lab coat and the notebook in his hands, paired with the dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He barely has time to open his mouth, looking alarmed, before Duke slams into him, tackling him to the floor and knocking him out with a quick hit to the temple. 

A vent in the ceiling falls down, and Red Robin pops out.

“They’re keeping him in the back, locked in. I’m warning you now, it’s not a pretty sight.”

“I don’t care,” Duke snaps, “I’m getting him back.”

“We’ll clear the way and keep them from stopping you,” Red Robin says.

He whips out his bo staff and sprints away, kicking in a door. Duke follows after him, ignoring the yells from the other scientists gathered in there, leaving them to Red Robin’s tender mercies. 

The light leads him to a room hidden away in the lab, a small window in the door that is too dirty to see through. The door is locked, so Duke feels out the shadows around him and uses one to slip into the room.

And Danny’s there.

Danny, never without a smile, glowing and funny and so, so sweet, is lying curled up on the floor. There are shackles around his ankles, keeping him trapped in the room with the chain nailed into the wall. His wrists are bound in meta suppressant cuffs, leaving him weak and vulnerable. That’s not the worst thing.

The worst thing is the visible wounds Duke can see on him, sluggishly bleeding. There are blood stains all over the floor, cuts along his arms and thighs, clothes torn into nothing but dirty rags. There’s a large incision on his chest, going down from his collarbone to his navel, hastily stitched together in a way that only keeps it slightly closed, the stitches loose enough to be pulled out with a single pull. 

As if sensing his gaze, Danny blinks his eyes open, staring at the space next to Duke. Slowly, his gaze slides over, eyes hazy with pain and exhaustion. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

Duke kneels next to him, pulling off his gloves to cup Danny’s cheek as gently as he can.

“Hey,” he whispers, overcome with both grief at the pain Danny had to go through, and relief at finally finding him. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Danny doesn’t try to speak again. Instead, he closes his eyes and leans into Duke’s touch, relaxing. 

“I got you honey, it’s alright. I’m gonna get you out of here and take you to some people who can patch you up.”

He slides his arms beneath Danny’s body, lifting him into his arms. 

He doesn’t remember much of what happens next; it’s all a blur of movement and feeling blood slide over his hands. Later, he’ll hear the others give their report, telling of how they found Danny following the trail of a university professor bragging about a paper that would make him famous for a deeper understanding of meta biology. They’ll recount their scouting, the information they stole, how many people they fought and captured. They’ll talk about how the shadows completely overwhelmed the basement when Duke left with Danny, traveling through shadows at a speed he had never achieved before, going farther than he’s ever been able to. 

Leslie and Alfred input their own medical reports of the torture done to Danny and how long he’ll need to be in recovery, checking for infection and possible side effects to his powers. 

All of that will be important later. 

Duke doesn’t care about anything at all when he’s finally able to return to Danny’s side once Alfred and Leslie are done patching him up. The weight that’s been on his shoulders for the past thirty seven days is gone. The sight of Danny’s blue eyes fluttering open is the most beautiful he’ll ever see.

“Hey, honey,” he says softly, holding Danny’s hand as he wakes.

Danny smiles at him. “Duke,” he whispers, “I knew you’d find me.”

“Always, honey. Always.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #mostly hurt not much comfort but just imagine duke cuddling danny and hand feeding him after this!!! #thank u for the prompt!! very happy to make this the first prompt fill to buff up the ghostlights tag

[artiststarme]

What if Vecna cursed Steve instead of Max?

Steve has ignored his own problems for as long as he could remember. He would leave his unfinished homework at home when he knew it was due that day. He’d purposely avoid going to the doctor in order to live a little longer in ignorant bliss, to hell with the threat of further damage. He’d even leave his gas tank at a quarter full when he knew he had a long drive just so he wouldn’t have to look at an empty wallet. 

So, when his nightmares got worse and his nose started bleeding at random times and he started seeing things that weren’t actually there, well that was just another thing to ignore completely. He put a bandaid on the issue with a bottle of Tylenol and started wearing sunglasses indoors. But as the week wore on, the bags beneath his eyes began to bruise and his hair lost its pizazz. 

Robin was worried about him, that he could tell. She would hand him a homemade lunch any time he drove her to school. On their shifts together at Family Video, she would stick him in the back to rewind tapes, sort through new shipments, or even take a nap. Every day, her eyes would get more concerned until her face developed a look of perpetual worry. But, Steve ignored it. So, he had a few bad nightmares that caused him to wake up in a fit of panic. Who cares that he’d taken to carrying an extra shirt in his car because he was having so many nosebleeds? Not him. 

When the kids coerced him into finding Eddie, he was hesitant but woefully inept in arguing with them. He didn’t expect his old dealer from high school to hold a broken bottle to his throat. Certainly didn’t expect to be turned on by it either but that was something to contemplate at a much later time, preferably never. 

They found out that the Upside Down was back at it again and later found out that Chrissy and Fred had been having nightmares, nosebleeds, and depression. That they were having strong feelings of worthlessness and guilt. And if that didn’t summarize Steve to a T, he didn’t know what did. 

And Robin knew too. She called him out on it, at first in secret but when he brushed it off, she told the group. Steve would never forget the horror on Dustin’s face when he found out that he was cursed. It gave them a new sense of determination. They had to save their babysitter, nay- their friend, no matter what the cost. 

But Steve? He wasn’t sure he was worth the effort. His life certainly wasn’t even slightly as important as the lives of any of his friends. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice any of them so he was immediately against any and all of their plans. 

He almost died too. When they were lounging at his house, strategizing and such, Vecna got him. He started to lift into the air and could feel his bones creaking under an invisible force. Robin and Nance called Dustin right then to tell him about the effect music had on the victim. Eddie, poor, poor Eddie, started singing Tears for Fears right away and Steve was so enamored with his deep, dulcet voice that he managed to escape. When they asked his favorite song later that day, Steve lied and said it was the Head Over Heels that Eddie had sung. 

He didn’t want to out himself by saying it was Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen. Steve was nothing if not an enigma. A man of layers upon layers hiding from his friends and everyone else behind a facade. 

They believed him, why wouldn’t they? Dustin forced a walkman into his hands and headphones over his ears. Then Robin and Eddie forced him to keep them on. The blaring music and grating voices helped him tune out of reality and focus on his thoughts. 

He was going to die and he was fine with that. As long as everyone else was safe, he’d take the L. He felt like his entire life led to this moment. Nothing he ever did was ever meaningful, ever important. But his death would be because he would save the lives that mattered. Robin, Dustin, Nancy, Eddie, Max, and Lucas would be safe. And they had each other so they would be fine. Dustin, the kid he saw as the little brother he’d always wanted, he would have Eddie. Steve knew that Eddie was his new favorite anyway. Robin? She had been mooning over Nancy since they had met up at the trailer park. She could be her best friend with Steve out of the way. Everyone else there just put up with Steve for the others so they wouldn’t miss him either. 

While he was zoned out, they decided that Steve would be the bait for Vecna in the Creel house. He could lure him there while Nancy and Robin killed his physical body from the Upside Down. They told him he just needed to focus on good memories because Vecna couldn’t find him there. 

But when push came to shove, Steve didn’t have any good memories. Even in the fun times, the times that were supposed to be fully happy, there was always a background tinge of sadness. From the earliest times he could remember to the times of late, he couldn’t think of a time he’d been truly, completely happy. 

His childhood birthday parties, he was supposed to be having fun and being a kid. Instead, he had to play the part of happy families in front of all of his dad’s work friends. He got presents but he also got abandoned by his parents any time they wanted to go on a trip. 

His first win at little league? His dad gave him his first concussion when they got home because he tagged Joshua Evans out. Joshua’s dad worked with his dad and Steve had embarrassed him by costing his team the point. 

His first A on a history test? His teacher pulled him back after class and accused him of cheating because there was no way Steve Harrington could ever study hard enough to get an A. He was much too dumb for that, right?

Even the more recent times with his found family, he couldn’t think of any times he’d truly been happy. He’s always content at work around Robin. But there’s always a fear that she’s going to leave and he’ll lose everything. She was his only true friend and when she went to school, he knew he’d be all alone. 

The times when Dustin or Max or Lucas asked him for rides? Even when they’re happy singing along in the car or laughing with each other, Steve feels a sharp sense of jealousy because he knows he’ll never have friends that care about him like that or want him around. He never had and he never would. 

And so, when Vecna finds him, Steve is all too easy for him to catch. As the Party scrambles to figure out his favorite song and settles for the wrong one. As El tries to traipse through Steve’s happy memories but finds none. And as Robin, Eddie, Dustin, and Nancy scream at him to fight. Steve gives up. And Vecna has his final victim.

@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog

#Or so he thinks until Eddie starts singing Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen which wakes Steve up out of shock alone #Hope you guys have tissues on standby #stranger things #fanfic #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #eleven hopper #max mayfield #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 | Day Seven — Robert Oppenheimer + praise kink, ddlg

Pairing -> cillian!robert oppenheimer x reader

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), okay so this wasn't as dd/lg as I intended, affair, cheating, blowjob, kinda bitter and sad, biblical reference to Eve and the apple

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Robert Oppenheimer's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to insult him or his family in any way. This is about Cillian Murphy's portrayal of him in the movie Oppenheimer. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Robert’s place was small, but it was comfortable. There was a couch and some nice wallpaper, and down the hallway was his room, with a bed that fit the two of you like a puzzle piece. It felt like home, a place where you and him could live one day, together and married, like nothing else in the world mattered.

“My wife’s not home,” he said, and you got a little annoyed at the mention of Kitty, even though you knew you shouldn’t. If anything, she should be annoyed at you, at the student who always took up Robert’s office hours, the one who came over every week for dinner to talk about ‘quantum physics’, the one who was fucking her husband.

Said husband wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, leaving kisses down your neck. “My pretty girl,” he murmured. “My pretty, little girl. What did I do to deserve you?”

A feeling of guilt washed over you, but you ignored it, like you did every time he touched you. You wondered if he was doing the same.

Robert picked you up bridal style and carried you to his bedroom. You told him he didn’t have to that, but he insisted. He liked it when you were in his arms, a helpless damsel he could please and love and protect.

Once he was in position, you got down on your knees and pulled out his cock. He was hard, and you wasted no time slipping his length into your warm, wet mouth, just the way he liked it.

Robert moaned softly. “So good,” he praised. “You do it so well. Don’t stop.”

You didn’t, and after about a minute, he wrapped your hair like a ponytail and started pushing your head up and down, making you gag and sputter as he deepthroated you.

He was very gentle about it, despite the fact that he was making you choke on his cock. His pace wasn’t fast or rough, rather generous, like he was trying to drag the moment out for as long as he could.

He pulled out and came on your face, the cum dribbling down your cheeks. He spread it across your lips, revelling in the sight of you looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes.

He kissed your forehead and after taking a breather, he was hard again. He placed you on top of him. “Go slow, okay? We have all night.”

You did as he asked. You sunk onto his cock, letting yourself get used to the size before you started rocking against him, hands on his shoulders, eyes shut. At this pace, you could focus on the way his length pushed in and out of your pussy, the way your walls clenched around him and sucked him in deeper. When you dropped all the way down his pube hairs would brush up against your soft skin, but you didn’t mind it at all. It just made the moment feel all the more real. 

Was it wrong if it felt so good? How could your feelings be a sin? You were only showing your affection to the man you loved. And you did love him. You loved him ever since you walked into his class, ever since he started whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“You’re mine,” he growled, pulling you closer to him. It was sweaty and warm, skin up against skin, his heartbeat thumping against yours. “My little girl. Mine.”

“Yours,” you whimpered, picking up the pace, desperate for release. “All yours.”

It was at that moment that you had to accept that while you were his, he would never be yours. He was a forbidden fruit, an apple, and you were the foolish girl who decided to take a bite. You and Robert were never going to be together in the way you wanted, you were never going to get married. He had his wife, and you had your future ahead of you. He would never divorce Kitty, and you would never sacrifice your education because of his reluctance.

You continued fucking Robert into the night as he left breathy moans against your ear. You both wouldn’t last, it was certain, but for the time being, you could pretend it would. 

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420 

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

#robert oppenheimer x you #robert oppenheimer x reader #robert oppenheimer x y/n #robert oppenheimer #fanfiction #cillian murphy #pinguwrites #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober masterlist