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#i can only stick a foot in and deal with a bit of it if I'm holding onto something. so in practise i can only cry

backjustforberena · 2 days

Note

I do find it funny how they say that Rhaenys always bends to Corlys will when his ass didn’t even want to join the war and only joined because she basically told him to. It’s a relationship lol. It ebbs and flows. The only time we’ve genuinely seen them disagree in course of action was in ep 7. Idc what anyone says but refusing that marriage proposal when Viserys hurled his dying ass across the sea would’ve been impossible.

So ok, he overruled her on the succession argument ( which I’m sorry technically he can because it’s his house and name) and then he didn’t want to join the war and she was like “nah we’re pulling up lol”. That’s super balanced so like how is she hypocritical?

H answers questions that have been in her inbox for far too long.

IT IS A RELATIONSHIP. IT DOES EBB AND FLOW. IT'S CALLED COMMUNICATION. SHE'S NOT HYPOCRITICAL.

With grace, I can vaguely assume why some people think there is a power imbalance. Just on a surface level. But I also think that those people are not willing or haven't actually considered the scenes and the dynamics that they are watching or the context of when these sorts of remarks are made, either.

Criticisms I've seen have generally gone along the lines of: she didn't want Viserys to marry Laena, but Corlys pushed her, she didn't want Laenor to marry Rhaenyra, Corlys pushed her and she didn't want Lucerys to be the heir, but Corlys overruled her. Very, very basic readings of what happens, with no more depth than that. For me, I can see how not only are those very, very different examples and moments, but they are also not examples of Rhaenys bowing down the whims of her husband. Just because she is not the active participant does not mean she is not a willing participant.

My main frustration with this sort of reading, certainly with the first and second examples that I've listened (the third is an outlier due to Corlys's monopoly on the subject), is that it dumbs down Rhaenys's complexity, cruelty and frustrated ambition. It also takes away her agency and her equality with her husband. I've said before how I view her perspective to not be against either move, but simply more realistic.

She's not going to cheer Laena marrying Viserys but she is going to stand by side with her husband and say that it's the strongest match Viserys can make. She can want that match and that marriage and still be a bit bothered by it. The two can live together and probably do. To her, this is how the world works, especially at that point in her life. So, of course, she's going to be present in that decision and advocating for that course of action.

And again, she's not going to be jumping up and down about Laenor matching with Rhaenyra because there's danger in the match as much as there is achievement. But, nevertheless, she's standing side by side, nodding and giving her agreement. She can still be seduced by the idea of elevating her children and wearing a fabulous frock and sticking it to Viserys, and take some satisfaction in her cousin having to beg. She doesn't actually express a wish to veto the betrothal. She just says that she's worried about the dangers of Rhaenyra's succession.

Her powerlessness against the "system" that she buys into and props up is not the same as her being powerless against her husband. By which I mean that, her acknowledging the negative impact of these political choices is not taking away the fact that she is making them alongside Corlys. He is at the forefront because he has to take the lead as a man. Not because he's having to drag her along with it all. It's a reflection of their reality rather than their relationship, if that makes sense?

In short: in political decisions and in public, Rhaenys plays second fiddle because she's a woman, not because Corlys forces it to be that way. These are deals for Corlys to make as Head of House Velaryon. He is on the front-foot, he is the public political power in their marriage because that's how society works. In other words, it's actually pretty redundant to analyse that because it's just... normal.

What isn't normal is that Rhaenys is side-by-side with him. That he values her opinion. That she speaks. That Corlys and Rhaenys often share looks and silent communication: most notably when it comes to the betrothals of their children. There is real implication that these two have spoken, at length, about these choices and come to a united decision about it. How else can they present such a united front to their adversaries?

We don't see Rhaenys and Corlys speak privately about Laena. We barely see them talk privately about Laenor. And with the succession thing, as you say, it's his name and his house. She has no power to meddle in that succession. She cannot declare the succession for Driftmark on her own. That's not in her gift.

And again, as you say, she yells at him, tells him to get his ass in gear and they go down and declare for Rhaenyra because that is what she wants to do. That is what she thinks is right and so he is doing it for her. It's clear as day when he looks at her and she smiles at him and Rhaenyra thanks her because she's painfully aware that Rhaenys is the one who made it happen.

Rhaenys's just never toiled in "service to men". Has she been affected and degraded by the patriarchy? Yes! Big yes! They took her birthright from her. They made her roleless in a society she should have been running. But she doesn't toil to Corlys. She has never toiled to Corlys. To say so is a degradation to their marriage, quite frankly.

And it's a degradation to the awareness that Rhaenys has of the political structure around her and the agency she exerts and free will surrounding her own mind and choices. She does things that prop up the patriarchy. Yes. All the women do. She definitely does things that, in an ideal world, she wouldn't have to do. But she does that because it suits her own interests at the time. Never because a man told her to. And never to the detriment of herself and her safety and her sanity. It's always her choice. For good or ill.

#house of the dragon #rhaenys targaryen #hotd meta

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taylormarieee · 6 months

Text

~Were supposed to hate each other right?~ Carl Grimes

Request: Would you do a Carl x Reader, where Carl and Reader dislike each other a lot and then gets lost together on a scavenging trip, so they finally have to spend the night in an abandoned hotel or something similar and to unwillingly share a bed and it ends up with them having sex? can you add that the mood of the two of them the next morning is very strange and embarrassed and they don't know how to deal with each other now?

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: PiV sex, Shy Carl, Shy Reader, Awkwardness, Teasing, lots of cuss words, reader and Carl don't like each other, dry humping, needy Carl, needy reader.

You and Carl didn't like each other at all! It was not a new thing to the group.

Ever since they stepped foot in Alexandria, you just found him so stuck up because he knew all about killing walkers and surviving.

Well let's not forget how you were out in the wild too, trying to survive and not get bit just like them.

The only difference is you had no group. So you hated when he acted like he knew better and was so much smarter then you in survival skills.

You two were both out on a run instructed by Rick and Carol for you too to get along.

You rolled your eyes but didn't complain, Carl on the other hand...

"This is such bullshit! Why do I have to drive in a god damn car with this annoying ass brat?!" He complains.

"Watch your mouth!" Rick yells at his son.

"Seriously dad?" He asks.

"I am very serious. I don't know what it is with you two but lemme get this straigh through your stubborn teenage heads. You two will go on this run, find supplies, and get along. I don't give a damn if you guys fake to like each other." Rick yells.

"People can't stand to work with you two because all you guys constantly do is bicker. Carol's tired of it, i'm tired of it, hell Daryl's tired of it! So shut your mouths and go!" Rick continues irritated before walking off.

"Damn, I've never seen him that angry." You say. You look at Carl and he speaks.

"Well at least we both agree on something." he says before walking off to go find a car.

You follow behind him and you both get in the car. Rosita opens the gate and Carl speeds off.

You each brought a bag off supplies and food just incase you get stranded.

You both silently sit in the car not speaking to one another. You constantly glance at Carl.

"What?" He asks rolling his eyes. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to respond.

"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything." You respond already annoyed.

"You keep looking at me, do you think I'm pretty or something? Stop staring." He says keeping his eyes on the road.

Your face gets hot as you look down at your fingers. You quickly shut down the smile slowly starting to appear on your face.

"Ew! What!? No, I hate you remember. You're ugly anyways." You respond staring out the window.

You feel the car shaking. You think it's just the gravel until the car completely stops moving. It slowly comes to a stop in front of a hotel.

"Damn it! The car ran out of gas. I guess this is where will be staying for a little while. A herd is coming up anyways. Quick let's get inside. Maybe we can find something." Carl says.

You both grab your stuff and quickly but quietly sneak into the hotel before the herd sees you.

You guys find a room on the first floor and get settled. You notice that the room only has one bed.

"Carl, this room only has one bed." You state. He looks around and groans.

"Well you take this and i'll take the room next door then." He responds.

"All the keys are gone except this one. This key was left in the door. You can't open the rest." You respond, "Plus we have to stick together incase anything bad happens. We are sharing a bed wether you like it or not." You say.

"Quit whining like a baby." You add with a smug smile on your face.

Carl rolls his eyes and mutters a curse word under his breath. You both get comfortable and turn your body's far away from each other as possible.

During your slumber to feel Carl moving in his sleep. You were about to kick Carl when you hear him whimper.

'Maybe he was having a nightmare', you thought. But then he whimpered your name and you froze.

He turned his body and grabbed you waist pulling you closer to him. That's when you fell it.

The stiff feeling of his cock inside his jeans begging to be released.

He was having a wet dream about you! This is not real, it can't be, you thought.

You tried your hardest not to move but he kept rubbing himself against you.

"C-Carl." You whimper out. He moans again and grinds himself harder against you.

"Carl!" You whisper shout. He stirs awake, realizing how close he is to you. He quickly scoots away just staring at you in the dimly lit room.

You turn to face him with your hand down you pants desperately looking at him.

Carl is breathing heavily waiting for consent to touch you again, to feel you again.

"I need you Carl." Those 4 words were all he needed before his lips crashed on yours.

You moan into him and quickly go to take of his pants. He lifts your shirt up exposing you belly.

You successfully pull his pants down to his feet before lifting of your shirt.

You fondle with the button on your pants as Carl takes off his shirt and drops his pants and boxers on the floor.

You finally manage to take of your pants and discard them with the rest of the clothes on the floor.

Carl and You are both so needy that he doesn't even have time to prepare you for his length. You don't care anyway.

He slowly slides into you, the stinging feeling of your walls being stretched felt painful but good at the same time.

You moan out as he enters you and he groans at the feeling of your walls trapping him inside you.

You leave marks on his back from gripping him so hard. He slightly tugs on your hair unknowingly but you are to fazed out in bliss and ecstasy to notice.

He continues his slow pace until he feels himself about to cum.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna cum, c-cum with me please." He whines out. You moan as you feel your orgasm approaching.

"Cum inside me Carl, please!" You cry out. He follows your desperate order and releases his seed inside of you.'

Your orgasm rips through you like a wave. Your whole body shakes and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You ride out your high and you fall limp. Carl's head falls on your shoulder, his body too weak to support his body weight but he tries anyway for the sake of not crushing you.

You both end up falling asleep snuggled up next to each other.

When the morning comes out through the windows. You quickly notice how you and Carl's clothes are on the floor. You quickly get dressed before he wakes up, memories of last night flashing in you mind as you look at the messed up bed.

You hear Carl finally stir awake and you can't even look him in the eye.

You mutter a good morning before walking out of the room with your bag to try and find a new Car.

You finally found a Car after 10 minutes of looking. You drive it back to the hotel to see Carl standing next to the old Car you guys used.

He gets in and it's the quietest car ride back home. You guys don't speak to each other or even look at each other. 'What an awkward moment you', thought.

Taglist: @carlgrimesenthusiast @loveforcarl @carlsdarling

A/N: Thank you @carlsdarling For requesting this and I'm sorry it didn't get posted when I said it would.

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #carl grimes smut #twd carl grimes #carl x reader

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saetoshi · 1 year

Text

“you make me sick.”

those were the words that had marked the end of your first (and only) conversation with itoshi sae.

it was supposed to mean you’d never have to see him again aside from the fleeting moments you’d bump into each other in the hallway. (you were grateful for it too. it meant not having to deal with the ungrateful jerk for longer than necessary.)

or so you’d thought. until you found him standing outside your door, scowling.

you glare at him, “why’re you here?”

“why’d you take so long to open the door?” he crosses his arms.

“i was doing this wonderful thing called sleeping,” you huff, “it’d do you well, jackass.”

he clicks his tongue in annoyance, impatiently tapping his foot against the floor. you lean against your doorframe, crossing your arms.

your brows furrow. “why are you here?”

“i got locked out of my apartment.”

you bite back the smile that threatens to bloom in your lips. you cough in a poor attempt to hide your amusement, “so?”

“so,” sae’s frown deepens. “i need someplace to stay the night.”

disgust flashes through your face. “can’t you call security to open the door for you?”

“they can’t do anything until it’s morning.”

“that’s not my problem,” you tsk, “just ask someone else if you can crash at their place.”

he looks away from you, seemingly embarrassed, as a soft flush spreads through his face. “you’re the only person i know in the whole building.”

you gape. he tugs at the strings in his hoodie.

(how embarrassing. and awkward. for him, of course, he just unknowingly gave you some excellent blackmail material.)

“are you gonna let me in?”

the way he says it tugs at your heartstrings. he reminds you of a lost puppy, in a way. (an ugly, rude puppy. nevertheless, it makes you feel a bit of pity for him.)

you rub your temples and sigh, “do not make me regret it.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” there’s a twinkle in his eyes when he says that. it worries you. it’s enough to consider kicking him out before he even sets foot inside your apartment.

but that would mean you’re just as mean as he is. and you find the idea of sharing something in common with him to be sickening.

you sigh, opening the door to you apartment.

“this is your place?”

you don’t even have to turn around to see the judgmental look on his face. (you regret letting him in already.)

you take a deep breath, “is there a problem with it?”

“not at all.” he sounds condescending. it makes you wonder what kind of stick is up his ass. you hope he gets rid of it soon. you also hope to get rid of him too.

“i don’t have any extra rooms,” you turn around to look at him, “so you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

he lets out a displeased scoff. “the couch?”

“yeah,” you frown, “why?”

“i’m an athlete.” he glares at the couch, “i can’t sleep in that.”

“what, it’s gonna break your back or something?”

“i’ve got practice tomorrow morning.”

“well,” you purse your lips, “next time you leave your apartment don’t forget your keys.”

he glares at you, “i’m not sleeping in that couch.”

you glare back, “neither am i.”

the next couple of minutes are a blur. you don’t know what happened. and, as you stare at the ceiling, you’re not sure you want to know how you ended up sharing a bed with sae. (at least you had the sense to insist on dividing the bed with pillows.)

you softly curse when you feel him shift on the other side, pulling the blanket off of you.

you frown as you harshly pull the blanket back on your side. you groan in exasperation when he yanks it off again. “do you mind?”

“‘m cold.” he mutters.

“and you think i’m not?” you snap at him.

he groans. you pull the blanket back. he pulls it enough for both of you to be covered by it.

“don’t even think about getting rid of the pillows,” you mumble.

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” his voice is laced with drowsiness.

“g’night,” you yawn. he grunts back in response. you drift off to sleep, hoping he’ll be gone by the time you wake up.

you were half-right. his alarm woke you up. still, you fell asleep again as he was getting out of bed.

though, you have to admit, it was a nice surprise waking up to find pancakes (and post-it with a poorly scribbled ‘thanks’) by your bedside table. (even if they were burnt.)

you decide that maybe (just maybe) you’ll have to return the favor someday and make him a decent meal. (you’d hate for your neighbor to poison himself with his lack of cooking skills before getting to know him.)

#atp i feel like im the friendly neighborhood sae writer #I AM AN ITOSHI SAE ENJOYER !!!! (shamefully)#(not so) dearest neighbor itoshi sae #bllk x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #bllk fluff #bllk scenarios #blue lock fluff #blue lock sae #bllk sae #blue lock itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae x you #itoshi sae x you

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sinofwriting · 6 months

Text

Figlia Mia - Charles Leclerc (Part Two)

Words: 1,927 Summary: What do the 2024, 2025, and 2026 season look like with Enzo Ferrari’s granddaughter having taken over the Ferrari F1 team? Read part one here Note(s)/Warning(s): This is a very different fic to what I normally write. The story is mainly told with news headlines and only has 3 blurbs in it. But if you want me to expand on anything in the news headlines or want to see a part three told also with news headlines for the 2027, 2028, and 2029 season let me know! And thank you to @eleetalks for the Italian translation! Also, I shouldn’t have to say this but: How I write the drivers in these fics is not based on my feelings for them, it is just what I need them to be.

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon

2024

January 2025

“I feel like I’m in trouble.” Daniel jokes, as he follows her through the hallways. “I think you just like being trouble.” He grins at her, winking. “Gotta keep you on your toes, huh.” She shakes her head, but grins. “Was the drive okay?” “Better than most. I’ve got a room at the hotel for the next few days as I house hunt.” “No flat?” He scoffs, “for three years? And with the amount of development we’re doing? Fuck that. I’ll go crazy.” She hums, sending a smile to Anita as they pass by her who tuts when seeing Daniel.

“What was that about?” “Anita likes her peace. It’s why she’s worked for us for so long.” “I can be peaceful!” He protests and then immediately makes a face. “Okay, I can try.” She snorts, shaking her head as they reach the dining room.

“Daniel!” Her grandfather greets, a wide smile on his face as he pats Charles hand before the younger moves to her side, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Signor Ferrari!” Daniel cheers, moving to the older man’s side and bending to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re looking amazing. It’s the enchante merch, isn’t it?” He jokes, having sent some to both Ferrari’s right before the 2024 season ended. Enzo huffs out a laugh and she watches Daniel’s face as her grandfather sticks out his leg, sliding his slipper off and Daniel’s jaw drops as he sees the enchante sock on his foot. “Healing properties.” “Holy fuck.” Daniel breathes and they all can’t help but laugh. “I told you, nonno that you’d break him.” Enzo grins at Charles, putting his slipper back on. “I’ve got to keep you kids on your toes.” She rolls her eyes, squeezing Charles upper arm, before moving to properly greet her grandfather. Pressing a kiss to his weathered skin and holding his hand in hers for a few seconds.

“Now tell me as we eat how the car is.” He demands as soon as everyone is sitting and food has been served.

—

“He really overdid it.” Charles murmurs as they both work to get Daniel on the bed. She sighs. “He was talking about house hunting here before we joined. The split hit him a bit harder than I thought.” He frowns, eyes sad as he looks at the man that for a good few years was pretty much his second godfather. “Has he said why?” “Racing. This year was supposed to be his last, but 2024.” She shakes her head, a sad but fond smile on her face. “It really hit him how much he wasn’t ready to leave yet and F1 wasn’t ready for him to leave either. She didn’t want him to go this long, didn’t want to deal with the weird long distance and traveling.” She shrugs. “It sucks, but is fair.” “Is it rude to be grateful that we won’t have to deal with that?” He asks, wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her body against his as they look at Daniel, who's starting to really drift off. “No, il mio destino. Only natural.” My destiny He hums, pressing a kiss to her neck before sighing and unwinding their bodies. “Let me take off his jeans so he’ll be more comfortable.” “I’ll get him a glass of water and make sure to put another pillow under his head, when you lay like that your neck always aches in the morning.” The last part is a murmur and he flushes at her remembering that. Such a small, simple thing.

When Daniel wakes up the next morning he groans at the dry throat he has and the gross feeling of not changing before falling asleep for the night. Turning to the left, his eyes close for a quick second as he murmurs a prayer of thanks before reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand and draining it.

It takes a few minutes for the water to settle in him and for him to realize that he doesn’t have jeans on. He blinks, but shrugs. It wouldn’t be the first time he stripped while asleep, but those were one of his tighter pairs of jeans.

“Daniel.” She greets when he stumbles out of the bathroom and finds himself in a small kitchen. “Morning Stella, Charles.” He rubs at his eyes, clearing the last of sleep away as he sits in the small breakfast nook.

Charles and her share an amused look when the smell of coffee makes Daniel perk up, his face instantly brightening.

“That smells amazing.” She passes a cup to him and Charles presses the small basket slash tray of sugar, creamer, and things closer to the Australian. “Thank you.” He murmurs to both of them before doctoring his cup, murmuring another thank you when a small bowl of fruit is placed in front of him, Charles doing the same.

“I had your luggage delivered to the house.” She states when Daniel is fully awake and halfway through his fruit bowl. His brows press together, hand stilling. “What?” Charles brings his cup to his mouth to hide his smile. “Your luggage, it was brought to the house. Nonno is the only person that lives here full time, Anita, Matteo, and Luca live here when we are not and sometimes when we are. And Charles and I have this whole wing to ourselves, this kitchen, a small living space, a few smaller rooms that were converted into offices, and four bedrooms. We’d like to have you live here as well. Or in the guest house.” Daniel blinks at her. He had forgotten how much she steamrolled and bulldozed through things, it made his lips twitch up into a smile before he turned his attention to Charles. “And you're alright with this?” “You’re family.” Charles states and Daniel can feel tears spring to his eyes at the easy way he says it. “We may have lost sight of that for a few years and only regained it recently, but you are family, Daniel.” He swallows thickly, “fuck.” He breathes, a few tears running down his face before he nods. “Alright, kids. I’ll move in.” And then in a move that shocks Charles, Daniel places a hand on the back of his neck and draws him close before he kisses his forehead and the gesture makes Charles well up. “Jules will kill me for letting you drown for so long.” Charles shakes his head and neither man notices that she has left the room, leaving them to a grief that they share. “No. He’ll be proud we became family again.”

May 2025

She smiles as she watches Ferrari get another 1-2 podium, the third of the season already and it was Charles winning his home race once again.

“You are glowing.” “Maman.” She says, turning slightly to look at Pascale. “I promise that we aren’t hiding anything. We just got married. It’s a newlywed glow.” Her mother in law huffs. “And when will I get my grandchildren?” She shakes her head. “You and my grandfather both. Eventually, I promise. Not right now though. Neither of us are ready for that.”

November 2025

“Daniel, do another lap.” “What?” The word comes out a bit loud and harsh but he listens to Stella, ignoring the checkered flag and starting another lap. “What’s going on, Stella?” It’s quiet for another moment but as he approaches the straight, she speaks. “Daniel, congratulations. You are the 2025 world champion!” “What?” He slows as he takes the turn, her words not registering even though it had been all anyone had been talking about since the weekend started. “You won, Daniel! You’re a world champion!” “Holy fuck.” He curses and as he gets on the straight he realizes why she had him continue and he stops the car in the middle of it, grandstands perfectly able to see it as he quickly unbuckles his harness and gets out to stand on the car, raising a fist in the air as he screams.

2026

@cixrosie @badbatch-simp24 @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @crystals-faith @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @benstormy @bibliosaurous @skepvids

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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sentientgolfball · 8 months

Text

Lessons

I did it. I wrote the damn Swiss/Phantom/Reader that's been rattling in my brain.

18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3051

Tags: degradation, choking, Swiss is a bit of a voyeur, rough Phantom if you squint, irresponsible use of quintessence

Summary: Phantom admits he's never been with a human. You and Swiss share a look before deciding that's about to change.

“Look at just how fucking wet they are.”

“You sure you didn’t bring me a water ghoul?”

Phantom laughed to himself before sliding his fingers between your legs gathering as much slick as he could. You whine when he draws his hand away much too soon. He stares in awe at his fingers, his thought process clear as day on his face. Swiss pushes him lightly with his foot

“Not yet ant. You still don’t know just how delicate humans are.”

You huff a laugh “I’ll show you delicate when I stick my foot up your fuck—“ You were cut off by the tip of Swiss’ tail snaking around to brush lightly over your swollen clit.

“First lesson: humans are so sensitive. It only takes a few touches to get ‘em going” he demonstrates this by letting go of one of your wrists and sliding a finger into your cunt “But it’s a double-edged sword. They’re so easy to overstimulate. Gotta take your time.” He draws his hand back, wiping the slick onto your thigh.

The way he was talking about you like you weren’t even there like you’re nothing more than a tool to teach Phantom how to fuck was only making the pool of slick between your legs worse.

He was right though. Everything felt so hazy. How long has it been? You remember a sloppy make-out session with Phantom as Swiss critiqued while palming himself in the corner. That was a while ago. You may not remember how long the three of you have been at it, but you do remember how you got there.

You snuck into the ghoul den after your shift in the kitchen had ended with an armful of sugary contraband. Siblings weren’t typically allowed in the dens unless personally brought into them, but your job got you a free ticket. It all started when you caught Swiss and Dew trying to break into the kitchens in the middle of the night. After some negotiations including a decent amount of tongue, you settled on a simple deal. You bring them as many pastries as you can carry and they’ll fuck your brains out.

When you had gotten to the den it appeared Swiss was the only one present, so you flopped onto the couch and shared the cakes with him. When you had finished your fill, Swiss had pulled you into his lap mumbling something about needing something sweeter before he licked a stripe from your neck to your jawline. That’s when Phantom walked in. When you noticed him you quickly jumped out of Swiss�� grasp much to his chagrin.

“Do you want some?” Swiss had asked the quintessence ghoul assuming he had been drawn out of his room by the sweet smells of baked goods. This caused him to go rigid with a small blush creeping into his face “I’ve never been with a human…”

You were about ready to clear up the misunderstanding when you caught Swiss’ eyes. You recognized that look and you immediately knew he was going to dig his heels into this. His gaze flicked to you for a moment seeking your permission before he opened his mouth. Fuck it. Your growing grin was all he needed. You and Swiss made a show out of groping and kissing each other for the other ghoul who just stared on slack-jawed shifting himself around in his pants. You three only left for Swiss’ room when Dew and Rain came through the main door

“Oh come on we’ve only had this couch for like a week.” Rain huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Go fuck somewhere else so we can eat in peace or I’ll up your tax.” Dew stuffed a brownie into his mouth not even looking up from the horde of sweets.

That’s how you ended up where you are now. Pressed firm against Swiss’ chest, wrists squeezed between his clawed hands, tail wrapped around one leg to keep you open while Phantom sits crouched in front of you eyes wild, dick painfully erect, shaking with anticipation. He looks up at Swiss with pleading eyes

“Can I taste them? Please?”

“Hands-on learning, I like it. Go right ahead.”

Phantom’s eyes sparked and he dove between your spread legs eagerly licking into you. You cried out and arched against Swiss as he pushed impossibly deeper, swiping his forked tongue from your clit to your slit. He was lapping at you in earnest, filling the room with obscene wet noises. Swiss hissed and bumped Phantom’s head with his knee to get his attention. His head popped up with wide, blown-out pupils and a wet chin. He looked at Swiss with a furrowed brow and a whine deep in his throat.

“What did I say? It’s not like one of the girls. It’s a human.”

Phantom nodded and lowered himself again slowly circling his tongue around your clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking. You gasp and push your hips closer to him to the best of your ability. Swiss chuffs a laugh and wraps an arm tight around your midsection forcing you to keep still.

“See what I mean? Humans are so easy” he brings his lips to your ear pressing a kiss to it “Come on be a good little pet for him. All you have to do is lay there and take it.”

You threw your head onto his shoulder with a moan feeling Phantom’s tongue drag over your hole before carefully pushing in. Part of you wanted to kill Swiss for the little game he was playing, convincing Phantom to go so painfully slow that it had you shaking. The other part of you was too drunk on being brought to the edge and let down over and over again to stop him.

“Tastes fucking amazing.” He pulls back slightly to look up at Swiss for approval

“If you think that’s good, wait for lesson two.”

Phantom looked at him grinning wildly urging him to continue. His tail was beating against the side of the bed rhythmically.

Swiss smiles “Glamour your claws” Phantom does so immediately waiting for more “You’ve been with Cirrus you know what to do from here. Just take it slow, you don’t wanna break em.”

You have half a mind to curse Swiss but the thought quickly dies when you feel Phantom slide a finger inside of you “shit Phantom if you’re gonna touch me then touch me.” You try to cant your hips chasing any friction but Swiss holds you firmly in place.

“Filthy.” He laughs before removing his finger. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps his tongue around his fingers groaning when he tastes you. He then all at once shoves two of his fingers into you. You cry out trying to snap your thighs shut but Swiss’ tail holds strong.

He tuts “How many times am I gonna have to tell you to go slow.”

Phantom's laugh sends a shiver through you “Aw come on I think they can handle something a little more.”

Swiss growls in warning. Phantom rolls his eyes but compiles, leisurely curling his fingers inside you. He applies pressure to your clit with the pad of his thumb as he drags his fingers against your walls searching for the sweet spot. You bite your lip to stifle the groans threatening to spill, but that quickly changes when he dips his head back down adding his tongue to the mix.

“Sing for him pet. Let him know just how good he is.” Swiss says as he presses kisses into your neck occasionally letting his fangs scrape the skin.

Your free hand shoots to his head grabbing a fist full of hair as he fingers you faster, tongue flicking over your clit in time with his thrusts. He moans at the feeling causing you to shiver at the added vibration. You let out a series of little groans and huffs as you feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge.

“Don’t stop. So fucking close.”

Swiss takes a deep breath and kisses a trail from your neck to your ear “I’ll make it up to you later.” He laughs and bites your lobe. Your brow furrows in confusion for a moment before he speaks again

“Hands off.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Phantom falters for a second not knowing who to listen to before he pulls back and sits up to look at Swiss. You whine pathetically, burying your face into the multi-ghoul’s neck feeling yourself clench around nothing.

“Time for lesson three. Humans go crazy for this one.” Swiss places a firm hand on your stomach. There’s a split second where you can smell ozone. You don’t have enough time to react before the feeling of pure pleasure ripples through you causing you to cum with a string of obscenities.

“What the fuck was that?” Phantom asks in awe looking from your dripping cunt to Swiss’ hand.

“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never once thought to use your quintessence like this?” Phantom shakes his head with a growing smile, fangs poking out of the bottom of his lip.

Swiss smiles and removes his hand from your stomach only to grab Phantom’s and place it there.

“Find the thread and isolate it.”

You can feel the quintessence spark to life on your skin, through your whole body filling every nerve with energy. This lasts for a few seconds before you’re screaming, arching against Swiss’ grasp as you feel nothing but pure overwhelming pleasure ripple through you. Phantom rips his hand away looking genuinely fearful for a moment.

Swiss just chuckles “Neat trick but save that one for Dew. Remember lesson one.”

“Humans are easy.” He says quietly

Swiss nods “All it takes is a little spark.”

You squirm in Swiss’ grasp when Phantom reaches for you again. He stops and folds his hand in his lap not sure what to do. You take a second to catch your breath, your mind fuzzy with the most intense orgasm of your life.

“You wanna stop just say the word.”

You felt like you were underwater. Everything was too much and too little. You needed more. This is why you kept coming to the ghoul den after all, you wanted your brains fucked out and unfortunately for you, you could still think. You settle back against Swiss chest still heaving

“Just lay there and take it right?” You let yourself go slack. Phantom sighs with relief upon seeing that he didn’t actually hurt you. He’s soft for about a second before he grabs your hips and looks you up and down.

“Can I try something?” His gaze flicks to Swiss.

“Depends. Does that something include what I’ve shown you?” He nods a growl forming deep in his throat.

“Consider it your final exam then.”

Phantom barks a laugh “And what if I fail?” The look in his eyes was wild as he squeezed your hips harder. He never removed his gaze from your waiting hole.

“Then I won’t share my toy with you anymore.” Swiss runs a hand up your body cupping and squeezing one of your breasts like he’s showing you off.

Phantom flicks his tongue out with a sick grin on his face that makes your heart speed up. He slowly brings the head of his cock to your entrance stopping only to seek Swiss’ approval. When he’s met with no resistance he pushes in with a guttural moan.

“Fucking shit are all humans this tight?” His chest heaves as he bottoms out pausing to give you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him. You throw your head back against Swiss’ shoulder squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even realize tears had fallen from the corners until you felt the fork of a tongue lick a stripe up your face. You let out a choked gasp when Phantom starts to move experimentally. He thrusts into you a few times before growling in satisfaction. He grips the leg not currently held by Swiss’ tail hard before throwing it over his shoulder to get a better angle.

Gone is the Phantom that cared about your comfort as he begins to pound into you like this is the last time he’ll ever have sex. Each thrust pushes you harder against Swiss, he grunts with each movement and you swear you can feel a wet spot on your back where his dick is pressed. You let a string of moans leave your throat as Phantom snaps his hips against yours muttering something in Infernal.

He sits back to watch himself fuck into you for a moment before removing his other hand from your hips. He slowly drags the tips of his claws up your abdomen, between your tits before coming to a stop at your throat. He tests the waters by wrapping his nimble fingers around your neck without any pressure. You gaze up at him with big pleading eyes that practically throw him over the edge. He begins to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, squeezing and releasing in time with his thrusts.

“Such a fucking freak. Risking your job to get some demon dick. I bet you’d like it if I did this.” He punctuates his sentence by squeezing hard around your neck and holding it, forcing you to open your mouth in a silent scream in an attempt to get air. He only releases the pressure when your eyes start to flutter closed with tears spilling out.

He laughs “I can see why you like fucking humans so much.” Swiss only groans in response too lost in his own haze of lust to keep up the role of teacher. He keeps his hand secure around your neck causing you to clench around him. He moans loud and low, hips faltering as his orgasm creeps closer to him.

Suddenly the air is once more filled with the smell of ozone as Phantom’s quintessence sparks to life. The pressure returns to your throat as you feel his magic course through every vein in your body. Your eyes snap open as you scream silently grabbing onto Swiss’ arm for support as your vision blurs from the lack of oxygen and the force of your orgasm.

“Look Swiss no hands.” He grunts as his brows furrow as he concentrates on fucking you through the waves of pleasure and keeping his quintessence flowing into you. Both his hands are squeezing bruises into your hips before suddenly you’re empty and all you can feel is his cum splashing onto your stomach practically reaching your chest.

He takes a brief moment to catch his breath before snapping his fingers. You take in a gulp of air as the feeling of the pressure around your neck disappears. You stare up at the ceiling chest heaving as you come down from your high.

“What the fuck was that?” Swiss asks in awe mirroring your own thoughts.

Phantom smiles proudly at the tone of the multi-ghouls voice “Told you I wanted to try something.”

“You’re so showing me how to do that.” This causes Phantom’s tail to beat against the side of the bed. There’s a bit of a dusty blush creeping onto his face.

“Can we please save the magical choking contest for another night? I think I’ll die if I cum again.” This earns a laugh and a sweet, chaste kiss from Swiss, but Phantom looks genuinely mortified. You feel a prickle of guilt reaching up with a shaky hand to guide his lips to yours. You give him a kiss before pulling back and kissing his nose. A purr kicks up in his chest immediately as he softens.

Swiss brings a hand to Phantom’s head and gives it a scratch “Now it's time for lesson four.”

You’re about to protest when you’re suddenly lifted by the multi-ghoul.

“Swiss what the hell?!”

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realize you wanted to lay in cum and sweat all night please forgive me”

You squeal and cling to his neck when he makes an over-exaggerated move to put you down “That's what I thought.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as he carries you to the bathroom connected to his bedroom, Phantom hot on his heels.

He gets the bath ready setting out all your favorite soaps and explaining to Phantom the use of bath salts. The tub is only big enough for two of you to soak comfortably so you end up curled against the quintessence ghoul as Swiss scrubs your hair from the side of the bath. Phantom hasn’t stopped purring or asking if everything was okay, that he didn’t hurt you. You attempt to quell the little ghoul’s worry with a few soft kisses to his chest. While this does shut him up, you’re well aware of the occasional pop of magic filling you with relaxation.

I’m going to kill Swiss for making him think I’d break you think to yourself, wait…oh shit Swiss.

You raise your head from Phantom’s chest and look at the multi-ghoul who was gathering towels for when the two of you were finished.

“What?” He tilts his head with a smile.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

Your eyes flick down to his half-hard dick. He chuckles when he realizes.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m a big ghoul I can take care of myself,” He kisses you before you can protest “Besides, I gotta have something left in me for when I walk back out there and Dew has inevitably eaten the rest of the stash.” You huff when he winks at you and resign yourself to cuddling with Phantom.

You two stay in the bath until the water cools, but at this point, you’re hardly conscious. The two ghouls have to practically drag you up and out of the tub and into some clothes. Phantom flops into the bed and pulls you close to him, wrapping his tail around your waist as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. Swiss presses a kiss to your temple and passes a hand through Phantom’s hair before throwing on his sweatpants and leaving the room. The last thing you hear before passing out is a muffled yelp and a “Told you he’d be pissed.”

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #nameless ghoul x reader #swiss x phantom #mdni #ghost fic #the band ghost fic #golfball writes

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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

Text

Let's be one another's present tense

Buggy 'rescues' you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea. Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: First chapter has bruises and talks about abuse (not from Buggy), though Buggy has his explosive moments. There's an asshole much older ex-husband in this story. Swearing. Nose bonks. A/N: This has been sitting in my head as I worked it out for an Anon's request. I have been really intrigued by this and wanted it to be just right. Also, it gave me the chance to ask my circus obsessed friend about different routines and we bounced some ideas off each other. This is also a touch different than other things I've written, which is why I've been taking so long to work on it and get it posted. Enjoy! Title comes from "Crater Lake" by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13

Chapter 1

“So we have a deal then?”

“Yes… yes, we have a deal.”

The clown pirate grinned at the old man sitting across from him. Buggy cheerfully cut a chunk out of the apple in his hand with his knife, tossing it into his mouth before he suddenly slammed the knife down onto the table, letting it stick into the wooden table top. The old man jumped while you flinched as you stood beside him. The bartering to keep the town safe from Buggy and his crew had finally finished and now it was just an uncomfortable time to be in the room.

Buggy looked at you and winked before he retrieved his knife, turning his attention back to the old mayor. “That your daughter there? She’s cute.”

“No, she’s my wife.” He replied; Buggy had just taken a bite of the apple only to spit it out across the desk at the man in mock surprise. The man did his best not to react while you covered your mouth with a look of disgust on your face.

“Wife?” Buggy chuckled. “You have one foot in the grave and you’re married to someone who looks young enough to be your daughter?” He shook his head. “And people think pirates can be disgusting. They don’t really care what their local politicians are up to, do they?” Buggy took another bite of the apple, giving you a once over before he grinned. “Throw her into the deal.”

“I-I suppose we-” The mayor started but you cut him off.

“No, I’m not going with some disgusting pirate like you!” You snapped. “Who knows what you would do to me!”

Buggy locked eyes with you in that moment, the playful attitude gone and replaced with something you couldn’t quite figure out. He stood up and approached you, knife in one hand and apple in the other. The mayor just sat and watched, trembling in his seat, refusing to do anything to protect you. The captain smiled at you as the knife cut into the apple; you could hear the fruit cracking from the force of the knife, saw the juice spill over his fingers, soaking into his gloved hands.

“What did you say about my nose?” He asked, voice eerily calm as he tossed the bit of apple into his mouth.

“I didn’t say anything about your nose.” You spat as you looked him up and down, crossing your arms. “Though I doubt I could say anything about it that you haven’t heard before.”

He smiled at that before raising the knife up and throwing it into the wall behind you. You turned to see where it landed but his hand was on your throat, backing you up to the wall and next to the knife. Buggy held you there for a moment, the smile disappearing as his hand tightened its hold on you.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.” He murmured as you grabbed his hand with yours, trying to pull him off you. Buggy suddenly smirked and let go of you. “You’ll fit in with my crew. Though, I should warn you, every time you mouth off I cut off a bit of your tongue.”

You rubbed your throat, breathing heavily as you turned to your husband. “You’re… you’re just going to let him take me?!”

“He’ll destroy the town if I don’t!” The mayor wailed. “I can’t allow that to happen! Sa-Sacrifices have to happen!”

“I’m not a sacrifice!” You exclaimed as your hand went to where Buggy was just touching you. You felt… weird from that, never having been touched in that manner before. You were used to aggression, pain, fear. His touch was… strong but there didn’t seem to be malice, but more of a performance. He caused you discomfort but there wouldn’t be a bruise left on you from him that you could tell. You shook your head and looked back at Buggy. “What do you plan to do to me?”

“Target practice, maybe.” Buggy shrugged. “I got this new thing I wanna try where I cut off a volunteer’s clothes with my knife throwing, y’know. Getcha right where the seams of your clothes are and see if I can cut through them.” He looked you up and down as he reached out to touch the fabric of your blouse. “Though, this is nice fabric, I don’t know if I want to risk damaging it.”

You slapped his hand away before turning to slap your ‘husband’. He recoiled at your touch but you didn’t care. He had no issue giving you up to some dirty pirate like this. Sacrifice? You were not some animal to be led for slaughter, you were a person, and you would take out Buggy and his crew even if it killed you. As you turned to face Buggy, he was already at the door of the office, but a hand was in front of you, holding a small red ball. With a squeeze, red smoke burst out of it and everything went dark.

The rope around your wrists was tight, scraping and irritating your skin. You were groggy as you came to but you were on a soft surface, fabric rubbing against your cheek almost comfortingly as you tried to get your head to stop spinning and for the nausea to cease. It took a few minutes for you to recall what your last moments were. Slapping a hand, your ex-husband, and some kind of smoke.

Oh shit you were captured by a pirate. A clown pirate with a bright red nose who was sensitive about it.

You moved your tongue around in your mouth, relieved that it was still whole. He didn’t cut it out yet, but was that empty threat or was he really going to do it? And what was he actually planning on doing with you? Stories often went around about pirates and what they were known to do to their prisoners, and you had heard many of them to give you some idea what to expect. Would he kill you after he was done with you, or would he kill you first and toss you into the sea to be food for the fishes and sea kings?

Heavy footsteps were approaching your room. You shut your eyes, hoping whoever it was would see you were asleep and would leave you alone.

Except that was expecting too much.

“Get up.” Buggy said as he walked over to the bed and grabbed the rope, pulling you into a sitting position. You glared up at him and he smirked, patting you on the cheek just enough to emit sound without the sting of a slap. “Rise and shine, cupcake. We need a new freak out there and you gotta earn your keep.”

“I will do no such thing.” You snapped as he pulled you up to your feet. Your body was still feeling the effects of the smoke and when you stood up you were off balanced, falling into him. To your surprise, he caught you, steadying you on your feet before he led you out of the room and down a walkway to another. You didn’t want to follow him, choosing to let your legs give out and falling to the floor. He stopped and turned to look at you.

“Really?” He shook his head and picked you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “You haven’t even had one performance and you’re already acting like a diva.”

“Excuse me?!” You wriggled around, trying to get him to drop you, but he laid his hand over your back, steadying you as he walked. “Put me down now!”

“You seem to think you can tell me what to do, cupcake.” He chuckled as his hand slid from your back down to the top of your ass. Without warning he gave you a pinch, causing you to yelp in surprise. “You may have been that loser mayor’s wife, but here? You’re just another freak like us.”

He set you down in a chair and stood behind you. There was a mirror in front of you with lights all around it. You didn’t want to be looking in the mirror right then, seeing the bruises on your face, the black eye that was healing, or the cut on your cheek that was scabbing over. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. What was this clown playing at?

“Now, we both know I didn’t do that to your face.” He murmured as he put both of his hands on your shoulders and leaned down towards you. “That old man did, didn’t he?” He touched the cut and you jerked away. “Weird, he seemed scared of you back there.”

“He was scared of you.” You hissed as you opened your eyes to glare at him. Buggy put his hand on your other cheek and you flinched, jerking backwards and nearly headbutting him. “Don’t touch me!”

“Cupcake, I just gotta do your makeup.” He told you calmly as he moved just in time from getting a bloody nose. “Cover up your battle scars, y’know. Can’t have the audience thinkin’ we rough up our performers here.”

You jerked again in your seat, trying to get out of reach of him. You didn’t want him touching you, speaking to you, or being near you. You didn’t want to go home but you didn’t want to be here. Why did this happen to you?

“Red lipstick would look wonderful on you, y’know.” He murmured as he leaned forward, looking at your face. “Or maybe I just throw you out there and let me and Cabaji practice our knife act on you.” He grinned. “I don’t want to waste makeup on you if you’re going to start crying out there.”

“Fuck you!” You spat as you threw your head forward, colliding with his nose. He reared back, swearing loudly as he clutched it while you slumped in the chair, dazed. You didn’t think it would do anything but he fell to the ground on his ass, stomping his feet in pain from the hit.

“Agh, you bitch! Why there?!” He shrieked, covering it with his hand as he tried to breathe through the pain. “Fuck, is your head a cannon ball? It felt like being hit by one!”

You lifted your bound hands to your head, rubbing your forehead. You could say the same thing about him, but then again you didn’t make it a habit of headbutting strange men. Your head felt a little rattled from the attack and the sharp pain in your forehead was throbbing.

“I didn’t think I’d hit your nose!” You shot back as you shut your eyes in pain. “Fucking asshole!”

He gave your chair a kick before getting to his feet, cursing you, headbutts, and noses before storming out of the room and leaving you by yourself. Your head was still hurting and you wondered if you were going to have a new bruise to add to the collection, but at least this one was from self defense, and you'd do it again to him if you had the chance.

“Fucking clown.” You sighed as you leaned back in your seat. You needed to figure out what was going to happen next.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc

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gurugirl · 6 months

Text

A Good Boy | The Video

stepmom!reader x stepson!harry

Summary: Back at home after Greece Y/n and Leo have a serious talk about Parker and things seem to go well. But then something unexpected comes up that could blow Harry and Y/n's cover.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, flufffffffff, tiny bit of angst

A Good Boy Masterlist

Y/n was glad she had the excuse of Parker for why she wasn’t going to be getting into bed with Leo anymore. She was glad to have some time before she and Harry finally had to tell him everything. She didn’t want to deal with the fallout. She would but that wasn’t something she was looking forward to.

The plan was Harry would graduate first and then they’d tell Leo. Harry just had to finish out his current semester and then one more after. That was it. They were so close.

“Let’s talk about what we should do,” Leo said as Y/n unpacked her things. She had her suitcase opened on the bench at the foot of her bed as she looked up at her husband.

“Sure. Do you want to do it now?”

Leo stepped into her room and ran a hand through his hair, a lot like the way Harry did it. That was one thing, Harry did have a lot of small habits that reminded her of Leo. Not that that was a bad thing, but it was something. Always a reminder of what she was doing.

Leo sat at the edge of her bed and looked down at his hands, “Like I said. I’m sorry this happened. I don’t even know how it happened. It started off just like anything else. Meaningless. Just the usual, you know?” He looked at her with his brows raised.

“Yeah. Of course. I get it.”

“And I know this isn’t fair to you so whatever you want, you’ll get it. Just tell me what you want that will make you happy. What are your terms?” Y/n tossed her mesh travel laundry bag onto the floor and then sat down next to Leo, taking his hand in hers, “Well, you already know there’s no more sex. If you’re really serious about Parker then I don’t want to get in the way. Maybe I’ll go out more so you can bring her here if you want. I just… I’m not mad. I hope you know that.”

He nodded, “I’m actually really surprised you’re not more upset. I feel so awful. I do feel deeply for you, still, Y/n. You’re so special to me. You always have been. It’s why I wanted you as my wife.”

“I know, Leo. We had some times. I think we might consider divorce down the road. When you feel it’s good timing for you. How do you feel about that?”

Leo sighed and shook his head, “I did not want to have this happen but I understand it’s what’s fair. And I’ll make sure you’re taken care of too, okay? Whatever you need or want.”

They finished the conversation on a positive note. It felt good to get some of the things out of the way. Of course, the biggest thing was that she was fucking his son and had fallen in love and everything that she might want, she was sure she could kiss goodbye once Leo learned of their affair. But none of that really mattered. Y/n just wanted to be with Harry. Despite any consequences.

I’m coming over.

Y/n texted Harry as she packed an overnight bag. Leo wanted to have Parker over, which he wound up telling her at the end of their conversation. She didn’t want to stick around for that awkward encounter and anyway, preferred being with Harry even if it was in his small bed in his dorm room.

Harry had a quick wank (because that was necessary in case they had sex, which he was sure they would, so he wouldn’t come too fast with her like he tended to) and then waited nervously for her to arrive. He knew that she and his dad had a serious conversation and while he was sure it had nothing to do with himself, he still wondered what it entailed. But even more than that he just wanted her to himself.

Greece had been amazing. The vacation had turned out very differently than Harry imagined when they first arrived. It ended with Y/n finally telling him her true feelings and them promising to be together. But as nice as the vacation had turned, things were still difficult for the pair when it came to being alone together with Leo around. And now he’d finally have her to himself. No worries about anyone walking in on them or overhearing them (or if someone did overhear them it wouldn’t be his dad and so it didn’t matter).

She arrived with her bag and a big smile.

Harry scooped her into his arms and pressed his face into her neck, “Can you just stay with me from now on?”

Y/n laughed and patted Harry’s back as she dropped her bag onto the floor, “Maybe. I’ll be here with you a lot more. But we still have to keep everything quiet until we tell Leo.”

She told him about her conversation with Leo. How well it went, “And Parker’s going over there tonight so… I don’t think Leo’s going to be thinking much about me.”

Harry grabbed her hips softly and pinned his eyes to hers as he shook his head, “I can’t imagine how he could let you go like that. I feel lucky that I get to have you but I’m just shocked.”

Harry followed her closely, pawing at her and touching her as she changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, “You act like we haven’t seen one another in weeks!” She laughed.

He sat on his bed and pulled her arm, stuffing his nose and cheeks into her stomach, “Just felt nervous when you went home with him. Still feels like anything could happen and then that’s it. You’ll change your mind and realize you’re nuts for doing this.”

Y/n paused and fit her fingers into his hair and scraped his scalp, “Harry,” she let her nails travel down his neck and to his shoulder blades, “Look at me.”

He craned his neck back and looked up at her with his arms still around her.

“I love you. Do you believe me when I tell you that?”

He nodded and then shoved his face back into her stomach causing her to laugh, “Hey,” She took a hand out of his hair and brought it down to his chin to push his face upward so he could look at her, “I’m not going anywhere. I need you to believe me and trust me okay? Are you having second thoughts about this?”

Harry blinked his eyes and pulled her down to the bed with him, both lying together on their sides. He cupped her face and pressed his mouth to hers before backing away, “No. Of course not.”

Smiling she held onto his forearms, “Okay. Then that clears it all up. We’re both doing this. We’re crazy about each other and we’re crazy for doing this but it’s not gonna stop us.”

Harry’s desperate pawing turned into him begging her to pull her panties down for him. He’d gotten her out of her sweatpants not long after she put them on by telling her he needed to warm his face up.

“Oh, you want to warm up your face? Okay. You can take my sweatpants off.” She laughed and he was quick to nuzzle into her thighs and rub his cheeks and nose against her white panties.

She loved how much he was like a puppy with her sometimes. So needy. She ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed over her clothed mound and nosed at her. She watched Friends on TV but she was quite distracted by Harry’s soft touches and the way he was pressing his mouth over her clit. But once he started licking her panties she couldn’t pay attention to what was on TV at all.

Harry wanted her focused on him. Needed to have her attention on him. And when he felt her panties start to grow slick (and not from his saliva), he looked up at her and laid his cheek on her thigh, “Can I take them off?” He plucked at the waistband of her panties as he asked.

And how was she really going to say no to him? He’d sufficiently gotten her all worked up with his nosing and mouthing and licking so she grinned and scraped his scalp with her fingers, “And what will you do when my panties come off? Hmm?”

Harry slid his finger under the elastic and looked up at her from his spot on her thigh, “Make you feel good. I’ll be good for you. Please?”

Y/n cooed and brushed her fingers over his face and watched as he closed his eyes under her touch, “You’re always so good for me, baby. Is that what you want?”

He nodded and popped his eyes open again, “Yes. Please. Can I?”

Smiling down at her lanky man she nodded, “Of course. You’re my good boy. Go ahead.”

Harry grunted as he moved himself and sat up so he could pull at her panties. She watched his long fingers drag her panties down her legs and then he leaned over her to kiss her lips as she slid a finger through her silky folds.

“I got you wet,” he grinned as he backed away from the kiss and lowered back between her legs.

She huffed a laugh. He was proud of himself. But of course, he got her worked up. She loved him and he was sensual and vulnerable and everything she ever wanted in a man.

But her laugh caught in her throat when Harry cupped his lips around her pussy and licked up and down her crease before dipping a finger inside of her.

She had her knees bent and thighs spread with her feet flat on the mattress as Harry laid flush on his tummy and sucked and licked through her sticky pussy.

Grabbing ahold of the back of his head she leaned back into the headboard and panted her word, “Oh god, yes…”

Just like she taught him, he paid most of his attention to her clit. His deep pink lips were wet as he looked up at her and kissed her pussy softly. Her breath hitched when he pulled at her clit and flicked his tongue back and forth.

“Feel better already…” he mumbled into her cunt.

“What was that, baby?” She asked breathily, unable to understand his words.

He lifted his face, “I feel better already. Needed you,” he dropped his mouth back down and closed his eyes as he licked and kissed and then went in with an open mouth and sucked.

He pressed in another two fingers and she moaned loudly, her hands still at the back of his head as she pulled him in closer.

“Just like that, Harry. Right there, fuck right there…” she closed her eyes and dropped her head back into the wood behind her. Harry’s slurps and the sound of his fingers inside of her just underscored the way her insides were rising and falling and her orgasm was approaching.

She groaned and gasped as Harry tongued and fingered and kissed. She didn’t know if she should be proud of herself for teaching him the best techniques or if she should be proud of him for picking it up so fast. He was thrusting his fingers into her squishy spot and pulling at her clit as if he knew how it made her feel – as if he could feel it himself. Because it was perfection.

“Ohhh, ffff!” She cried out and her legs snapped closed around Harry’s head as he continued his task. His free hand pulled at one of her thighs to keep her steady as she started to come on his face.

He moaned into her pussy when he felt her clenching around his fingers and he rutted down into the mattress, seeking a small bit of relief for his hard cock.

Y/n’s fingers were holding tight to his hair as she unraveled under his tongue. Her body slumped down and her legs trembled as Harry continued pressing his tongue over her clit and fingering her deeply.

It took a moment for Y/n to open her eyes. She was breathing hard and smiled at Harry as he lay next to her and kissed her arm and her shoulder softly, “You are so good at that, baby. God…” she moaned.

Harry pushed himself up so he could look down at her as he slid his hand under her t-shirt, “My cock is so achy. Please can I,” his fingers found her breast and he palmed over it, “…be inside of you?”

His smirk led Y/n to believe that he was just teasing her with his passive act. He knew what he was doing. He knew she wouldn’t say no. She loved the way he begged, though and he knew it.

“You wanna fuck my hole, make your achiness go away?” Y/n smiled at him teasingly in return.

Harry puffed out a laugh and nodded as he began to unbutton his pants, “Yes ma’am. Need it really bad. Your pussy is the only one that can make it better.”

Y/n sat up and laughed, “Well then you better get to it.”

Harry’s pants and underwear were pulled off his legs and he hovered over Y/n with a big smile as he slotted his hips between hers. She arched her back and tilted her hips up for him as he pressed the tip of his dick into her slowly.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned lowly as Y/n hissed at the intrusion. She was still a touch sensitive but it felt good having him inside of her in a place where they could both make noise and not worry about Leo overhearing them.

Of course, even though he’d jerked himself off before she arrived he was sure he’d still come too fast. Eating her out had him reeling and leaking before he’d even gotten inside of her. So he went slow and kept stuttering his hips and halting his thrusts, “You feel so good, Y/n.”

She moaned and arched her back toward him, “Yeah? Feels good inside of me?”

He nodded and began to cant his hips again, grinding into her and grinning as she gasped at how deep his tip reached into her.

“Is it good for you, Y/n? Does my cock make you feel good?”

She cooed and nodded, “Just listen to that… how wet I am? That’s all because of you baby. Best I’ve ever had.”

Harry groaned and pressed his mouth over hers as he rocked into her slowly. His balls were nudging into her ass every time he bottomed out and it felt amazing. His cock had never had it so good.

His small bed creaked loudly as he began to fuck into her with more force, more hunger. And the new pace had Y/n’s arousal building again. Every time he ground himself against her as he buried himself in she rocked her own hips up toward him, feeling her clit against his pelvis.

Over and over again, the pressure on her slick pussy and on her clit had her dripping and moaning, clenching around him tightly and pulling him in.

They kept their mouths connected as they made love, and Harry slid himself out and then pushed back in wetly. “Ohh, ffff… Harry!” Y/n panted against his lips at one particularly punishing thrust. He’d been grazing into her cervix but the sudden erratic plunge was sharp and made her feel like she was being split in half.

“S’that hurt, love?” Harry looked down at her with his brows pinched together as he gently rocked into her.

“You got in there really deep, baby. It’s okay. You can’t help it, I know,” Y/n brushed his hair from his forehead as they kept their eyes locked.

“I’ll be easier with you, like this,” he licked his lips and rolled into her languidly, still deep but less erratic so that every time he sunk into her fully she didn’t feel that sharp pain punching into her insides.

Y/n moaned and held onto his shoulders as he circled his hips and undulated himself into her. But it was hard to hold back. Harry wanted to hammer into her and stuff her with his come, but more than that he wanted her to orgasm first. The way her warmth swallowed him, the way her pussy gripped him… she deserved another orgasm but it was difficult when he was already shaking and his cock was twitching at the nearness of his own release.

He stopped for a moment and lifted upward so he could see her body. He palmed over her soft breasts and looked into her eyes, “I want you to come again.” He lowered one hand to her clit and rubbed in circles with decadent pressure.

“Keep doing that…” she panted as she moved her hand down to where his fingers were on her clit and guided him.

Harry squeezed his closed for a moment. He wanted to get her right on the edge and then he’d fuck her until she was coming so he could finally let go.

When she began writhing and moaning and bucking her hips upward Harry felt like he’d been able to regain a bit of composure. He began to fuck into her again, forcing his cock deep and then pulling out nearly to his tip before burying back in and spreading her walls apart. He kept his fingers working her clit as she guided him and her thighs began to shake.

Her pretty breasts rocked in time with her body at each heavy thrust and when he felt her clench hard and her mouth dropped open before she began to cry he knew she was coming. He continued his strokes letting her pulse and gush in her orgasm as she did not hold back her volume.

Harry gritted his teeth and watched her as she orgasmed before he could no longer stop his balls from throbbing and squeezing. He groaned and then gripped her thighs tight as he started to knock into her in long reckless strokes making her cry out louder. He loved the moments when she was coming and he could let loose with his urge to fuck her into oblivion and feel every inch of his cock being milked by her warm, tight hole around him.

“Holy fuck, I’m coming!” He groaned loudly. The bed rocked and skin slapped as Harry finally began to come. The wet sound of Y/n’s pussy getting pounded into sounded glorious to Harry’s ears.

Y/n could hardly make a noise as Harry’s brutal pace had her rocking upward harshly. She breathed through the sharpness of his tip smashing into her deeply and watched his face as he orgasmed, pink lips dropped open, flushed chest, flexing muscles, straining neck… Harry was so sexy when he was coming, she’d never get over it.

When he’d emptied himself completely he panted and pressed his hands into the mattress next to Y/n’s shoulders and smiled down at her lovingly.

She cupped his cheek and wrapped her legs around his hips, “Better, baby?”

He nodded and slowly lowered himself down, pressing his chest into hers as he wrapped his arms around her, “So much better, Y/n. Thank you.”

Cuddled together on Harry’s small bed, Y/n scrolled through social media and random job postings (yes, she needed to start looking for a job) while Harry did a little homework. He had to be in class the following morning.

She saw a notification come in from Marla and switched to her messages to read it.

So I was being nosy and saw this…

Y/n clicked the Instagram link which led to Parker Manera’s page. She had never thought to look at Parker’s Instagram. Didn’t care enough to check it out.

The photo that Marla linked to, however, was concerning.

It was of Parker with her friends smiling at the forefront. They were clearly in a club. The club in Malibu that Y/n had been at not long before going to Greece. And she knew it was that Malibu club because just behind Parker and her girlfriends were Harry and Y/n standing close and looking at each other. It was innocent enough. However, most would question, if they identified Harry and Y/n in the photo, why they were standing so close together amongst people dancing in a club in Malibu. Why would a stepmom and stepson be out together?

But then she swiped left to see the next part included in what Parker had uploaded and this one wasn’t just a photo. It was a short video. A shot of the same photo of Parker and her friends only they were laughing and moving and just behind them, once again, was Harry and Y/n. It didn’t look innocent any longer. The pair were swaying closely, faces angled toward each other in a near kiss, Harry’s hands on her hips. It was an intimate embrace. It was not the way a stepmom and a stepson should behave together.

“What is it?” Harry looked over at what Y/n was watching. He could tell right away that her body language had changed, her muscles tensed.

She handed Harry her phone and showed him the photo first. It took him a few seconds to realize what he was looking at but then he glanced at Y/n in concern.

“That’s not even the bad part,” she said as she swiped over to the video.

Harry hated watching it because he still remembered that night freshly. The way he and Y/n had just broken up and how he was trying to get over her but seeing her at the club drove him mad.

“Do you think my dad has Instagram?” Harry asked.

Y/n shook her head, “I really don’t think so but… just wondering how long it takes Parker to notice us in the background. If she does. Maybe she won’t. Or maybe she already has.”

Harry frowned and looked at the video again as it played on a loop. His mouth against her cheek, the way she was turned toward him. Right before the short video ended it looked like they were about to kiss. They never did but anyone watching the video would assume they had based on the way they were holding each other.

Harry let out a deep breath and leaned his head back into the headboard, “Well then we need to think of something in case he finds out before we’re ready to tell him.”

Y/n put her phone down and took Harry’s hand, leaning into his shoulder, “Whatever happens we’ll be together. Maybe he won’t see it. Maybe Parker won’t recognize us.”

Harry nodded and turned to kiss the top of Y/n’s head.

Maybe they didn’t have as much time as they thought. Maybe they’d have to come clean sooner than they were prepared for. It sucked knowing there was a possibility that someone would tell Leo or that Leo would see that video.

“Yeah. Whatever happens you and I will be in this together,” Harry spoke against her hair and pulled her closer. He hoped things would be okay. Hoped that no matter what happened it would be him and Y/n in the end. No matter what.

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thewertsearch · 8 months

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AG: Tavros, you give confidence a 8ad name. I gave you all the chances in the world to earn it, to earn REAL confidence, and you failed.

Pictured: Vriska giving Tavros 'a chance to earn real confidence'.

AG: You couldn't even do the one little thing I asked you to! The one thing that would have made you man up once and for all.

'Man up' is a funny idiom for a troll to use. We've occasionally seen trolls fall into human gender stereotypes, but it's quite rare, and always sticks out like a sore thumb.

There's an interesting conversation to be had about troll genders. With a reproductive cycle so different to ours, their gender framework will inevitably be different as well. Yes, there are male and female trolls - but what do male and female actually mean to a troll?

On Earth, your assigned gender carries cultural baggage which simply wouldn't exist on Alternia. Assigned gender plays no role in reproduction, nor does it influence household division of labor, since trolls don't have households.

Gender aside, do trolls have a concept of masculine and feminine? Beyond a few stray idioms, the only evidence I can find is their clothing styles. We haven't seen any male trolls rocking a skirt - not yet, at least.

tl;dr: 'Man up' is a cultural can of worms. I think that was probably unintentional, though, and I think we're supposed to interpret that line as if a human spoke it. Vriska's calling Tavros a wimp, which is business as usual.

AG: So instead you flew away and cried, and decided to sleep away your sorrow for the rest of the adventure.

Tavros already alluded to this incident during his conversation with Jade. I guessed that Vriska would be involved, but that was a bit of a no-brainer.

Vriska's trying to frame Tavros as pathetic, but it sounds like he actually put his foot down, flat-out refusing to participate in whatever she had planned. Much like the FLARP incident, this sounds like a victory for Tavros, even if she's convinced him otherwise.

AG: Do you have any idea how sick that made me? Everything a8out you makes me sick.

He rejects your advice. He rejects your advances. His lusus cared for him. He was allowed to be kind, and accepts kindness from others. He doesn't care about winning, but he never lets you win. No matter how much you torment him, he refuses to get any stronger, which means your mindset might be wrong.

'Sick' would be an understatement.

AG: Your plan to control her lusus really wasn't a 8ad idea! AG: And using your a8ility to "save her life" (lol) was a pretty good way to test how effective your powers are across sessions. [...] AG: Practicing your a8ilities is important, so when it comes down to using them for something that really matters, you know you're ready for prime time. AG: I know this first hand. AG: I got lots and lots and LOTS of practice with your little guinea pig friend. ::::D

So that's why Jade was constantly napping? That can't have been good for her brain.

AG: The catch is it's not going to work! [...] AG: You couldn't sic the guardian on Noir even if you were inclined. Not even if I were to MAKE you inclined! :::;)

Like I said before, it's really Vriska who can control First Guardians.

AG: 8ecause you are dealing with a pro here. I already thought of that. AG: I thought of everything! AG: The guardian is not going to attack the agents who engineered him in the first place. AG: Or who I should say were "encouraged" (lol) to engineer him.

Why the fuck would you do this?

When Vriska prototyped Bec, she explained that the event was mandated by the Alpha Timeline, so she didn't make anything worse by causing it. I don't agree with her argument, but I do understand her logic.

This is different. Up until now, there has been no evidence that Bec can't harm Agents. Vriska had no prophecy to fulfil, and no reason to believe that this was required to preserve the timeline. Yes, now we know it's baked into the timeline, but only because Vriska wanted it.

Having Bec help with Jack was a really good idea, and removing the option to do so helps no one. Where's the benefit?

AT: wHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, AG: Tavros, at this point it should 8e o8vious. AG: I am the unseen hand 8ehind every major event in their session, and to some extent, their whole lives. AG: At least those events not happening 8y the volition of their own natural incompetence! AG: Don't you think this is how it should 8e? Shouldn't the greatest player leave her fingerprints on every step of the rise to power of her ultim8 nemesis?

I know Vriska likes to feel in control, but this is ridiculous.

Inserting yourself into Alpha loops is one thing, but nerfing Bec when you don't have to is straight-up sabotage. Couldn't she just stick to micromanaging John's outfits?

AG: I have every angle covered already. The human session is on full Serket lockdown. Any effort you make to disrupt my plans will 8e laugha8le, just like everything you have ever done in your life. AG: The only thing left to do now is prepare to kill Jack myself, and save everyone's ungrateful asses.

Oh my god, I think I've cracked it.

Vriska thinks she's the only one with the right to kill Jack.

She describes him as her ultimate nemesis, which reeks of main character syndrome. Bec isn't important enough to kill Jack, so she eliminated him as an option. It has to be her, the most powerful Player, who's gained all the levels, because that is how these things are done.

It's not just ego, either - there's a deeper motivation at play. If Vriska doesn't beat Jack, she doesn't win - and if she doesn't win, then what was all that abuse were all those challenges for? What was the point?

In Vriska's head, Jack needs to be her nemesis. She needs to be destined to kill him - because if she is, then everything she went through was justified. She'll have secured her position as the most powerful Player of all, and she'll never have to be jealous of anyone again - least of all that wimp with his sweet little fairy lusus. They're all weak, and she's strong.

If she doesn't kill Jack, she's a loser.

And losers may as well be dead.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #3059 #s96

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megatraven · 1 year

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A Run In Autumn

Written for @peakwonderfulness ! It wouldn't let me gift to you on AO3 for some reason, but thank you so much for this! I had fun writing it! :)

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Pairing: Ladynoir Summary: On her morning run, Marinette spies someone who reminds her too much of Chat Noir. When she falls, he offers her a hand, and realizes that really is her partner- and he recognizes her as Ladybug.

AO3

The air nips at her nose as she runs, the cool autumn wind making Marinette glad she chose to bundle up that morning. In a ladybug-spotted hat that Alya had gotten her the previous year, and a new, bright red jacket that her parents had gotten her to match it, she was perfectly warm enough to run without much fear of catching cold. Plus it was sunny out, when it'd been storming the last week- she didn't want to waste it, nor the opportunity to wear the sunglasses she'd made again.

Taking a path outside of her usual running route, she was hoping to find something to inspire her next fashion project. Autumn was one of her favorite times to find inspiration in the way the colors of the trees change, how the warm colors contrast with the cool air, how people begin to change into warmer clothes while trying to hold onto the heat of the summer a little while longer.

It wasn't hard to keep an eye out as she ran; her time as Ladybug made her more vigilant than ever. For the first leg of her run, she made a mental note of different things: couples wearing matching outfits, the few people who properly blended summer and autumn attire, the colors of the city and how the late morning light danced on them.

It's only halfway through her run that she notices him.

The other runner, who's been keeping pace with her for the last half-mile or so.

He's running on the opposite side of the street, dressed in all black, including his hat that's adorned with kitty ears. Bits of blonde hair stick out from underneath, and its unruliness reminds her of Chat Noir's.

In fact… the way he runs reminds her of him, too. The eyes, maybe, but he's wearing sunglasses just like she is, and of course, there's no tail… but she can picture one behind him pretty easily.

She's so distracted watching him that she doesn't notice the uneven sidewalk in front of her, her foot catching on it and sending her down to the ground. So much for vigilance. With a groan, she brings herself back up to her knees, checking for any injuries, and only finds a few scrapes on her hands. No big deal, and easy enough to take care of once she gets home.

"Are you alright?"

Startled, she looks up, the other runner in front of her now, holding his hand out to her.

"Never better," she says, a little sarcastic, though she does take his hand, appreciating the kind gesture.

Standing face-to-face with him, she tries to see through the dark lens of his sunglasses, and she thinks his eyes might actually be green underneath. He glances at her hat and grins, and she wonders if he's thinking that it's funny, both of them being out wearing Ladybug and Chat Noir attire specifically.

"Might wanna keep a better eye on the road," he says, not unkindly, " …my lady."

And then he smiles wide, as if he just told the world's funniest inside joke.

Except, she's the only other person actually in on the joke.

"Chat Noir?"

The shock on his face freezes him still, and it's only when he stiffens that she realizes his hand is still in hers. She carefully takes her hand from his, and he jumps back a little.

"... Ladybug?"

"Chat Noir."

The shock quickly leaves him, though she's still reeling from it. Instead, he looks a little bashful, sticking his hands deep into his coat pockets- probably to protect how his ring looks outside of the transformation. She's suddenly glad that her hat covers her ears and keeps her earrings from being seen, although hers are pretty generic.

"Funny meeting you out like this. Civilian patrol?" he asks, and the awkward question makes her smile.

"No, just out for a run. It clears the head, you know?" She pauses. "Wait. Are you?"

"No! No, I'm out for a run, too. Before it gets too cold."

She nods, understanding. Once winter comes around, she won't be able to get many runs in herself, unless she's wearing her actual Ladybug suit. Akumas are a holiday season staple, unfortunately, and the cold tends to make people more miserable than not.

"Is this… I'm not asking to pry, but we probably shouldn't be catching the same running paths in the future, so is this one of your regular routes?" she asks.

"Yeah, I come this way a lot. It's pretty quiet, not much traffic… I've never seen you running in this area before though. At least, not at this time."

"I am a little late to run today," she admits, cheeks warming slightly as she shifts her weight from one leg to the other. "But I don't usually come down this way anyways. I'm just looking for a little inspiration and thought I'd change up my route today."

"Inspiration?" he asks, cocking his head to the side. The ears on his hat move, too, and she has to stifle a laugh.

"Oh, you know, trying to figure out a certain kitty's gift for this year." A lie, but not really. She does want to figure out something nice to get him, even if it isn't the purpose of her run today. "What about you? Why're you out running?"

He shrugs, rocking back and forth on his feet, which is a little funny to see from her partner.

"Just getting some fresh air."

"Oh, okay."

"Yep."

They stand there, neither one moving as the wind rushes past them. It's… more awkward than Marinette would like to admit, and she's sure Chat Noir feels the same, but she doesn't want to leave him quite yet. Even if it's dangerous for them to be meeting like this- unplanned or otherwise- she never truly enjoys saying goodbye to him.

Struck by that particular realization, she peers up at him, and smiles.

"So, do you-"

"Do you want to-"

"Sorry, wait, you go on-"

"No, you first," he says, gesturing with his arm to let her go.

"Alright, well," she begins, clearing her throat. "Do you want to finish our runs together? We can pick a new place to stop and split up from there."

Chat Noir's expression lifts, and she can imagine his cat ears perking up, his tail swinging side-to-side from excitement. It's a silly thought, but then, she knows her partner's mannerisms better than anyone, and that includes the cat components that are absent on his civilian person.

"I was going to ask the same thing!"

"You know what they say about great minds, don't you, Chat Noir?"

He beams at her.

"Of course, my lady. After you," he offers, letting her take the lead so that she can set their pace.

She accepts it, starting off at a brisk jog before ramping their speed up to a run, the same pace as before. He runs right beside her, ring clenched in one of his fists, and she grins. Pushing herself a little bit faster, she watches him match pace with her, speeding up as she does, and slowing down when their path requires it.

Each time they stop at a stop sign or traffic signal, they don't stop, running in place. Marinette laughs when Chat Noir presses the cross button for the wrong crosswalk, and he returns the favor when she just barely stops herself from crashing to the ground again.

They don't talk much between catching their breaths, but it's still one of Marinette's most enjoyable runs to date. Turns out, running with someone- especially someone you like- makes the experience that much better, and when she thinks of what she could make for her project, ideas swarm her mind. She has a much more clear vision than before, but she's pretty sure chat Noir has more to do with it than the run itself.

When they finally come to a stop, they're both breathing hard, but they just smile at one another. When she raises her fist up to him, he connects his fist to hers. The touch is electric with no suit to keep them apart, but it fades just as fast.

"Bien joué!" she says, letting her fist drop.

"Bien joué, my lady."

"I'll see you later for patrol, okay?"

"It'll be my pleasure."

With an over-exaggerated bow, in typical Chat Noir style, he splits away from her, and she watches him until he disappears at his next turn. Feeling a little too warm for her hat, she just barely fights off the temptation to take it off; protecting her identity came first, but just barely. Her morning runs have never left her feeling so warm, and once again, she's pretty sure that she has Chat Noir to thank for that.

Turning away, she starts home, reinvigorated and ready to take on the rest of the day.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain-cheng #marinette #my fic

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red-balloon12 · 3 months

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I just “watched” episodes 7 and 8 of Hazbin and I have a lot of thoughts.

But let’s start off with episode 7

Rosie and Camilla were EVERYTHING this episode. I love them both and I didn’t really have much to say about avails before this episode but like…I loved them a lot. Rosie is an absolute sweet heart (despite her being a cannibal)

Vaggie has wings now….Y E S. There’s SO much visual potential for this. I can just imagine her carrying Charlie bridal style through hell and her expressing with them as. I know a lot of people were confused but I’m gonna give explanations now: Lute ripped off her wings, she didn’t cut them with an angelic weapon which means Vaggie was able to grow them back through “The Power of Love”™️ and sheer will power.

At first I was a bit disappointed that Charlie and Vaggie didn’t actually properly and I was a bit underwhelmed by Charlie’s reaction to Vaggie’s but I’ll tell why I’m not as disappointed anymore.

Alastor was behaving a little bit like Charlie’s father figure in this which is funny considering episode 5. (But I know Chalastor shippers are gonna be weird about it and use the scenes for their fuel. Smh.) Not to mention I can see Camilla becoming a mentor/motherly figure for Vaggie in the future. But oddly enough I can also se Rosie being a mother figure for Charlie too.

Camilla’s song is probably my favorite out of the song list so far and while I’m a little disappointed it wasn’t a duet between her and Vaggie like the first song kinda was, we did get a training montage out of it and the explanation about Camilla defeating an angel leading up to it was freaking cool. (I really like how Camilla’s footwear was used as instruments in the song, I love stuff like that)

And now….for episode 8

I really liked Vaggie’s war outfit, Charlie’s was okay too.

I’m not gonna lie to y’all, I lowkey was kinda rooting for Adam when he was going up against Alastor. I’m sorry but I just…do not like him…or his fans for that matter. And GOD DAMN was it refreshing when Adam broke his staff, that man needed to be humbled….I just wish it wasn’t Adam that did it…cus I don’t like Adam either. And I feel like Alastor’s fans are coping with the fact that their precious deer demon daddy lost to a damn angel. (And yes he did loose to him. Cope and seethe) My guy wasn’t gonna land a scratch on Adam without an angelic weapon, what did people think was gonna happen?? But I’ll give Alastor props for holding out as long as he did.

Speaking of him, the reason why I didn’t mention the deal he made with Charlie yet is because it connects with this episode. So I’m 95% certain he has a contract with Lilith and it had something to do with that stick of his. His staff was probably the source of a lot of his power and it can’t be regenerated because it was broken by Adam’s guitar/axe. That “favor” that Alastor wants from Charlie might be to have her make him a new one, a more powerful one that he could possibly…idk…kill Lucifer or Lilith with? Idk dude, the man’s be scheming. But I’m like…98% certain his gonna be the BBEG by the end of this…and if not him, than Lilith.

CHAGGIE DUET- STARMOTH DUET- I’m so ill about them. This is why I wasn’t so mad about them not talking because of THIS SCENE. At this point, I could care less if people still think they have no chemistry after this or they think they’re boring. They’re real, they’re canon and they are beautiful. COPE AND SEETHE, BITCHES! I just hope they get more original duet pieces and not reprises in S2 but the fact they used the same song from Charlie and her dad is really cute.

I liked Vaggie calling Charlie petnames during battle. Little things like that is what makes these two so nice to watch.

Vaggie Vs. Lute…dispite me hoping Vaggie would be on even footing with Lute, it wasn’t realistic, and I’m glad they kept it realistic. Vaggie was out of practice for YEARS meanwhile Lute was not only going at it after Vaggie’s falling but she was also the lieutenant. But this is where Camilla’s advice came into play. Lute fought Vaggie with vengeance in mind as well as her thinking she was indestructible. This lead to her downfall when Lute was so caught up in mocking Vaggie, she accidentally gave Vaggie time to think of a way to outsmart her. Lute fought hard but Vaggie fought smart and it paid off in the end. And we got that BADASS line from Vaggie at the end of it. I love it when my girl gets W’s.

I’m disappointed how Charlie was overpowered by Adam though. I was so ready for her to throw hands with him. But I can see why this is the case as well. Charlie never really had to go all out before in her life. So she’s kinda rusty and inexperienced compared to Adam and Lucifer. (Also rip Razzle or Dazzle. You will probably be missed) But she did get two good hits which I can appreciate and she was the first to actually do damage to Adam. Something I can also appreciate.

Speaking of which, Lucifer absolutely OWNED Adam as he should. We stan a short king who loves his daughter.

Sir Pent was absolutely ROBBED of his moment by Adam and I don’t care that they made up for it by him going to heaven (I do care but sksnjs I’m still salty) And am I the only one that like…didn’t care all that much for his crush in Cherri? Like, I do like it in theory but the pacing…OH THE PACING IS THE REAL VILLAIN OF THIS SHOW. I wish they had a little bit more build up to that kiss. But hey, at least we have confirmation that the hotel does work. Rip Sir Penny. You WILL be missed.

I don’t know how I feel about Nifty of all people being the one to end Adam. On one hand it WAS foreshadowed at the beginning but one the other hand..it felt cheap(?). Like it would have been more satisfying for say Vaggie or Charlie to land the final blow, from a narrative standpoint at least. But…it was Nifty. And uh…was I SUPPOSED to feel bad for Lute seeing Adam die? I’m sorry but they both deserve to get their wings cut off. Adam was a fun villain but I’m glad he’s dead.

Hopes/Predictions for S2

I want more Early Stage!StarMoth. One of the criticisms people have with their relationship is how little set up they have. The best way to rectify this is to show how they were when they were still crushing on each other. A good example of this is Ruby and Sapphire from Steven Universe. Ruby and Sapphire were already established as a couple for Y E A R S but because we got to see how they fell in love and how they worked in the early days, people got more invested in their love story. So I hope Hazbin does the same with Charlie and Vaggie.

I also want Vaggie on her own. I know this is contradictory to my first want but I’ll explain. The theory as to why Vaggie seemed a bit shallow for a lot of people in the show was because they felt like Charlie was Vaggie’s whole personality which is something that I semi do agree with. So I want Vaggie to pick up a new hobby in S2. Whether it be her doing some dancing or maybe she becomes a musician. I just want more of VAGGIE.

And speaking of…I want Camilla to become some sort of mentor for Vaggie. I mentioned it earlier but I’m gonna do it again. Lute’s gonna come back in S2 and she’s gonna want revenge on Vaggie. We’ve seen how underpowered Vaggie is compared to Lute when it came to raw skill. But Camilla knew how to fend off from the angels and Vaggie did use her advice. I think and hope that if Vaggie keeps on training under Camilla, she can definitely surpass Lute and become a better fighter from it. Hell, Camilla can even help Vaggie deal with her anger issues.

It would also be fun if Lucifer trained up Charlie to be a better fighter (or Vaggie and Charlie can train together. It would make for some good moments between them)

This is a smaller want but I want Vaggie to cut her hair…she looks so much more cooler with shorter hair. And maybe a name change??? Maybe?

I want Charlie and Alastor to fight. It’s probably gonna happen with that deal and all. Some one is gonna suffer and Charlie (after having more experience) is gonna take on Alastor and I want her to remind him why she’s the damn Princess of Hell.

I just want the cast to interact with eachother more. Don’t let it just be Charlie and Vaggie or Angel and Husk. I wanna see how Vaggie and Husk would interact. They’d seem like a pretty chill duo.

I predict Lilith is gonna be the BBEG if not Alastor. She’s either gonna have to throw down with Charlie or Lucifer. And if somehow Alastor reforms, he may throw down with her. Lilith is gonna fight SOMEONE. (And Charlie may have to do a sing-nu-jitsu on her)

I predict Angel and Husk are gonna have to face with their soul binders (Alastor and Valentino) and both of them are probably gonna be rushed.

I predict Lute and Vaggie are gonna fight again and I HOPE Vaggie is more ready for it than in the finale.

I predict either Angel or Husk is gone be next in-line to be redeemed (which means either one is gonna “die” next season)

I predict another standoff between Alastor and Vox…and this time Vox is more cocky since Alastor took a BIG hit in the finale.

I predict Emily is gonna become a sinner.

And last but not least…I predict Vaggie and Charlie are gonna have a wedding at the end of the show.

My “final” thoughts for Hazbin Hotel S1: Pacing and tone shifts were the biggest flaw for this season. Moments, relationships and topics suffered from the poor pacing and while some of the blame goes to the lack of episodes, most of it goes to the writers. I can’t tell you how many moments fell flat due to the rushed episodes. You don’t really have time to breath with this show and the moments that you do get to breath are some of the best moments of the show.

(There’s also bias issues but that’s a separate topic-)

But for what it had…it wasn’t the worst. And I’m actually kinda looking forward to season 2.

#hazbin hotel spoilers #Hazbin Hotel #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin niffty #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lilith #hazbin lute #hazbin adam #Starmoth #chaggie #huskerdust #hazbin hotel critical #Hazbin hotel sugar

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kookslastbutton · 8 months

Note

Drabble request

TLTD JK fulfilling his wish to recreate that kiss scene from Love 911 with OC

I love your writing dear author, keep it up! 💖

Happy Birthday, My Love ༓ jjk

↩︎ Too Late To Dream Couple

✑ Summary: For years, your husband's been wanting to recreate his favorite kiss scene from Love 911 with you, and lucky for him, it's his birthday today so he gets to have whatever he wants.

pairing: economics professor!jungkook x artist!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 644

a/n: I watched a clip of this on Youtube and omg SO cute! AND the fact that Kookie said he wanted to recreate this in real? 😳 TYSM for the request 🥰 just fyi oc gets a little giggly but she is in no way making fun of him for this.

"Here, here, here!" You watch your husband jog ahead of you on the sidewalk. He's been trying to find the perfect spot for you to fulfill his birthday wish all day. "We have to do it here honey! We're in the middle of one of the busiest streets in Seoul, it'll be just like the movie."

"There's a lot of cars here," you say. Your clammy hands grip the metal sidewalk railing as your eyes scan your surroundings. "There's a lot of people walking around us too. You sure this is the right spot?"

"Of course! Now will you please come here so we can do the thing?" Your husband, only a few feet away, eagerly waits for you to come closer to him.

You chuckle, not even minding that he's a tad bit impatient. Seeing him this happy on his birthday makes you incredibly giddy.

"Hurry, faster!" he gestures with his hands for you to speed up. "I wanna kiss the love of my life in front of all of Seoul."

"Yes baby, I hear you and I'm coming as fast as I can," you reply. Once you're within arm's reach, Jungkook quickly bends his knees to pick you up, arms moving to wrap around your upper legs, just like Kang Il did to Mi Soo.

"Oh wait!" You flinch at the gentlest touch, letting out a giggle that has him taking his hand off you before getting to lift you in the air.

"What happened?" His panic-stricken face makes you feel all kinds of guilty for your random outburst.

"I'm sorry, it just tickles."

"What does?"

"Your hands under my ass."

"Oh my god..." He breaks into an amused grin and shakes his head. "I'll try grabbing tighter okay?" He goes in again and this time you bite your lip to keep yourself under control. Why are you being so squeamish? Get it together!

Jungkook's able to get your feet off the pavement this time but it's like you can't help it—you start fits of laughter again.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this today..." He sets you back on your feet and you lean your head into his chest, hands gripping his shirt. You're embarrassed at the random strangers who pass by, whether by foot or car, chuckling at the two of you, you specifically.

"No, I really want to do it," you muffle, head still buried between his pecs. "Give me a second."

Jungkook strokes your back and then brings his hands to your shoulders. "Look at me," he commands softly. "It's no big deal okay? It's just a silly thing."

"It's not silly!" You flash your eyes up at him. "I think I'm more ticklish than I thought I was. Here, let's try a third time okay?" You nod, back away from him, and give a thumbs up. You then stick your arms straight out, signaling to him that you're ready to be serious this time.

Your husband smiles at your cuteness and reaches to pick you up again. When you squeal for the third time in a row he grunts in playful irritation.

"My god, this wife of mine!" He grabs your face and starts pecking your lips repeatedly. "Just...let...me...kiss...you," he says between pecks.

All previous giggling goes out the window after this—both of you euphoric from the kissing. Your husband takes it as his queue to try lifting you up one last time and this time he's successful.

"See, you look so beautiful like this," he tells you, nothing but pure happiness on his face. "I could stare at you forever and not once get tired."

"Happy birthday my love." You cup his face from your higher position, lean down, and kiss him not a minute later as more random strangers clap in the background.

Apparently, you have more of an audience than you realized.

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts imagines #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton #requests

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 3 months

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 10

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 9.3K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

“Wow,” Robin breathed, her eyes so wide Steve feared they would pop out of her head, her spoon of cereal paused in front of the perfect circle her mouth was currently making. “That good, huh?”

“Better than good. I don’t…shit, I don’t even know how to describe it,” Steve replied, arms dropping to the table. “I’ve…Robin, I have never felt anything like that before. It was incredible and so damn intense. I don’t…I don’t know if I can have any self-control now that I know what kissing her feels like and I have to have self-control with her. That kiss is all I’ve been able to think about. It’s all I want to do. I had to stop myself from driving to her work today just to see her and touch her again. I think I might be losing my mind.”

Everything about last night had been perfect. From the food to the conversation to the girl. He knew he liked you. He knew he liked you a lot. He’d known he wanted to kiss you from the moment he’d laid eyes on you but nothing could have prepared him for what it was actually like. The moment his lips touched yours it was like sticking his finger in an electrical socket. You consumed him. It felt like you were everywhere at once, completely overwhelming every one of his senses until you were all that existed.

Steve was not new to kissing. In fact his track record was probably far higher than most but he’d never had a kiss like that. That kiss made all other kisses seem pointless. Why would he ever waste his lips on anything that wasn’t as amazing as that? And now all he could think about was your lips and your skin and how much more he wanted to explore. He was completely done for and that was scary as hell.

Robin giggled, her spoon clinking as she dropped it into the bowl, “Oh, my sweet summer child, you have got it so bad.”

“I know! What do I do?” he pleaded desperately.

The blond shrugged, her foot coming up to rest on the seat of the chair, arm wrapping around her leg, “Why would you want to do anything? Go with it. Savor it. Enjoy the hell out of it. Kiss that woman silly.”

“Robs, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not saying it’s funny. Steve, it’s amazing. I’ve never seen you so over the moon. I mean, yeah, you fall hard and fast but it’s all just a show. I’ve never seen you this lovestruck, my friend. You give new meaning to the term stars in his eyes.”

“But I told her it was no pressure. I said it wouldn’t be a big deal if it didn’t work out and now it feels like a very big deal! How am I supposed to go back to the way things were now that I know how goddamn good she feels?”

Blue eyes widened as she leaned forward, “Whoa. How good she feels? I thought all you did was kiss.”

“That is all we did!” he huffed. “But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about how so many other things would feel with her. But that’s a huge step, right? I mean, if I sleep with her then there is definitely no going back. It would be too awkward. And then what about the boys? I will shatter Jere’s heart when I tell him Eli’s mom and I can’t be around each other anymore. And what about…”

“Whoa! Hold your horses there cowboy. You’re getting just a bit ahead of yourself, don’t you think? Why are you already planning on all of this going south? Obviously, you two had an amazing time together and a kiss that could launch a thousand ships or some shit. Why would you think this isn’t going to be something?”

“Because it’s me!”

“And?”

“And I can’t ever make anything work. I am King Steve alright, the king of failed relationships.”

“Or…and hear me out, you’ve only had failed relationships because you’ve picked the wrong girls. She doesn’t sound like the wrong girl. I mean, honestly, did you ever have a kiss with Nance that made you feel like that?”

“No, but you know me. I’m going to push too hard, too fast, and she’s going to get freaked out and run. Look at me. Already I want to race over and see her even though I am seeing her tomorrow. Hell, I wanted to turn around and drive back to kiss her senseless all over again the moment I pulled away. I’m going to do it, Robin. I’m going to be too much. I can already feel it.”

“Okay,” shrugged Robin. Inhaling, she dropped her leg to the floor, arms crossing on top of the table. “Say you do what you do and you’re really needy and smothering and make it so she feels like she can’t breathe. Steve, we’re talking about a girl who lost her husband, a girl who has been alone for two years, a girl who hasn’t had anyone to care for her. Do you think she’ll find it smothering or do you think she’ll find it refreshing? Maybe she doesn’t even like breathing. Maybe what she wants is a Steve sized pillow right over her mouth and…” She cringed, lips puckering. “Okay, eww. I am realizing how that sounds but you know what I mean. Hell, maybe she does want that too.”

“But what if…”

“What if? What if? What if the Earth implodes tomorrow or aliens finally make themselves known and attack us all? Steve, you could go through the what ifs all damn day if you want but we both know all you’re really doing is grasping at shit because you’re scared.”

“Scared?” he scoffed, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want to make an ass of myself.”

“No. You’re scared. Terrified with a capital ‘T’ because King Steve has had a ton of relationships, more than is actually acceptable for the common person if we’re being honest. But what you’ve never had is anything real and that scares the shit out of you. Because if it’s real then that means there’s very real potential for losing it. But you have to stop focusing on what could happen and start focusing on what is happening right now. Because from what I’m hearing, she is just as deep into this as you are. It doesn’t sound like she was trying to stop the kiss which tells me she wants it. So just go with it. Go with the moment, with what you feel because yeah, it could all go to shit in a month. But it could also be your happy ending, Steve and you have to stop thinking you don’t deserve it or that it’s not possible for you because you, my friend, are worthy of all that shit they write about in romance novels.”

He was scared. He was scared shitless because there were a million and one ways he could manage to royally fuck this whole thing up. He was the king of fuck-ups when it came to relationships. And you were the first one that felt like it was something, something more than just a companion, something more than just someone he wanted around so he didn’t have to be alone.

“Hey Steve!” came Dustin’s voice, the front door banging against the wall, making Steve swear because how many times had he told that kid not to do that? He’d already patched that spot twice because of him. “You got anything for breakfast? I’m all out of Cinnamon Toa…” He paused in the doorway when he took in the sight of Steve and Robin at the table. “Sorry. This looks serious.” His face lit up, finger pointing at Robin’s bowl. “Sweet. Exactly what I needed.” Pulling the bowl over, he dropped down between the two of them.

“By all means,” Robin snapped. “I wasn’t eating that or anything.”

“Don’t you have your own house with your own food?” Steve sighed.

“Well, yes I do,” replied Dustin, scooping milk and cereal into his mouth, “but I am all out of cereal.”

“You know, there’s this place that all your breakfast needs. It’s called the grocery store.”

“Yeah, but you’re only a block away. Why would I drive all the way to the store when I can just come over here where there’s always food?”

“Because it’s my food,” argued Steve, jabbing his pointer finger repeatedly into the table. “It’s my food that I buy for me and my son to eat and it’s my house and it’s my table and it’s my bowl and spoon.”

“Damn. Someone’s grouchy today.” Dustin rolled his eyes toward Robin. “What’s up his butt?”

“Hot widow.”

“Impressive. That’s quite a leap from barely being able to tell her you like her.”

“Come on, man.” Steve wadded up a napkin, throwing it at his face. “I told you not to talk about my sex life.”

“So there is a sex life to talk about?”

Robin sniggered, “Based on how last night went there will be shortly.”

“Ohh!” Full teeth on display, he wiggled his eyebrows at Steve. “Do tell. More than dinner was enjoyed last night? Maybe a little late night dessert? A little something sweet after the meal? A little…”

“No. Absolutely not. I am not talking about this with a child,” Steve snorted, arms flailing in the air as he rose from the table. Grabbing onto the bowl that had been Robin’s before Dustin had stolen it, he walked it over to the sink, rinsing the remains of cereal and milk into the garbage disposal.

“Dude, I was still eating that! And I am not a child,” protested Dustin. “I am twenty-six! I have not been a child for eight years.”

Robin ruffled his hair. “You’ll always be itty bitty Dusty-Bun to us.”

“Knock it off. Jesus, seriously, you two have got to realize I am a man now. I am not unknown to the ways of carnal enjoyments. You’re not going to tell me anything I don’t already know. Seriously, did you and her hook up?”

“No! We just kissed, okay?”

Steve spun, leaning against the sink, fingers wrapping around the edge. He glanced over at the clock. Normally he would be leaving now to pick up Jeremiah from school to start his few days with him but Nancy would be getting him today. She was keeping him for the night because it was her dad’s birthday and they were all going out to dinner.

He had a whole evening ahead of him with nothing to occupy his thoughts and that was dangerous. Because his thoughts could lead him right to your doorstep. He hadn’t been exaggerating. Twice he’d had to convince himself that it would be ridiculous for him to show up when you had plans to see each other Thursday. Twice he’d been ready to turn his car right instead of left simply because he wanted to see your face. But his fear of doing what he always did, getting clingy, stopped him.

Steve had always been clingy in relationships. He had this neurotic need to feel important, to feel needed, to feel wanted. Robin told him his lack of parental love as a child left him constantly seeking it out in others. It was annoying how well she could read him but it didn’t make her wrong. And this time was so much worse. The intensity of his feelings was magnified by a hundred and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to be the pillow that smothered this relationship before it even began.

“It didn’t sound like just any old kiss to me,” Robin mused, opening the refrigerator to pull out a can of Dr. Pepper, something he only kept in the house because she drank it and she was always there. “It sounded like the kind of kiss that leads to all of the other dirty, delicious things.” Lifting her eyebrows, she nodded toward Dustin. “They were pawing at each other like a couple of horny teenagers in that car.”

“Steve! How very…junior year Steve of you. Which, I mean, that Steve was a douche but in this case, I approve,” Dustin laughed, only annoying him further. “And she was into it? I mean, obviously. Aren’t you two seeing each other tomorrow?”

“They are. They’re baking together for the school carnival.”

“Baking? Seriously?” He cringed at Steve. “How is that even slightly sexy?”

“Are you kidding me? The kids will be at school. They will have the whole house to themselves.” Pushing off the fridge, Robin’s hands wove in front of her as if she were setting a scene for a play. “Picture it. They’re mixing up ingredients and oops, some just happens to get on her neck. What to do? The only obvious conclusion is for Steve to lick it off.”

“Oh! Yeah and once you get tongues involved…” A husky laugh rose up out of Dustin, causing Steve a lot of unease. He did not appreciate this side of Dustin, the kid he used to give advice to for how to talk to girls. Dustin and tongues did not mix and was not an image he wanted in his brain. “That’s hot.”

“It’s not hot,” he stated, turning back to the dishes in the sink. “It’s not. We are two parents who volunteered to help bake for the carnival and…”

“Yeah. One of them who can’t bake and only chose that option to spend more time with the girl of his dreams,” Robin reminded.

“Yeah. I did,” he admitted, squeezing far more dish soap onto the sponge than was necessary in his irritation. “But I didn’t do it to get lucky or whatever. I did it just so we can spend time together. We’ve been on one date. She’s a widow. I mean, Jesus. We’re just getting to know each other. Nothing like that is happening for a long time.”

“Sure. If you say so,” Dustin snorted and Steve had had more than enough. He grabbed the sprayer from the sink, pulling it as far as it would go, shooting water right at his face. The boy’s hands flew up as he yelled, wiping the droplets off his skin. “Damn! That was unnecessary, Steve!”

“It was very necessary. Stop talking about my sex life. One, it gives me the ick to hear you talking about sex at all. You shouldn’t know anything about it. As far as I am concerned, you’ve never done it and I don’t want to know otherwise. And two, it’s not happening.” At Robin and Dustin’s disbelieving look, he sighed. “It’s not. Nothing is happening tomorrow. Seriously.”

____________________________________________________________

You moved throughout the house, laundry basket tucked under your arm, as you did your nightly pick-up of Eli’s various toys and clothes that had managed to be strewn everywhere. A random sock that had been deposited while he was eating his after school snack, the Hot Wheels car that had raced on an epic journey down the steps and then been abandoned at the base of them, the stuffed giraffe forgotten on the couch as he’d fumbled half asleep upstairs for bedtime.

Depositing the basket next to the stairs to be dealt with tomorrow morning, you made your way into the kitchen. You grabbed the bottle of Malbec that you'd picked up at the store earlier and poured yourself a generous glass before making your way toward the living room, pausing at the door frame, your eyes trailing the little pencil lines that documented your son’s growth through the years.

Your finger traced the one that said, Eli, 5 years old, the last time that Justin had been the one to do it. You could see the moment so clearly, the light in your son’s eyes as his dad gasped, marveling at how much he’d grown since last year, asking him if he’d been sneaking spinach when they weren’t looking. Eli had giggled as Justin had hoisted him into the air, exclaiming that he was going to be bigger than him, something her son could not fathom as his father always seemed larger than life.

“I miss you,” you whispered, closing your eyes, tears burning the backs of your eyelids.

You hoped he could hear you, somehow, someway, through the span of time and space and death. You hoped he knew how much you missed him, how much Eli missed his dad. You hoped that he knew that there wasn’t a day that went by where you didn’t think of him and wished that things had gone differently.

Your feet led you into the living room and you collapsed on the couch, your head resting along the back. You'd never once asked Justin to give up the military. Not when you were dating, not when you got married, not even when you found out you were pregnant or after your son had arrived. You'd always known how much the job meant to him. He wouldn’t have been your Justin if he’d walked away.

No. You'd always accepted it was just a part of him like the color of his hair or the way he rose before the sun no matter what time he went to bed. He was a soldier and that was it. There was no speculating on that, no room for compromise. To ask him to quit would have been like asking him to give up his soul.

You'd worried. Of course you had. You knew it was a possibility but he always came home to you…until he didn’t.

Even knowing it’s a possibility never actually prepares you for the real thing. Yeah, you knew it could happen, that at any moment something could go wrong when your husband was heading into hostile areas. But you never actually entertained the thought. He was the other half of you. You couldn’t possibly survive without him so he had to keep coming home to you.

And how could you not have known when it happened? If your souls were linked, if you were connected the way you believed you were, why didn’t you feel it when he’d left this Earth? Surely there should have been some pain, some ache, some sign from the Universe that the other half of your heart had been destroyed.

But you'd known nothing. You'd woken to your alarm, made breakfast, gotten Eli ready and dropped him off at school. You'd stopped at the grocery store and chatted with Nick, the cashier, like it was any other Tuesday. He’d told you that he was heading to Stanford the following fall for Mathematics and Statistics. You'd come home and started the laundry. You were just plugging in the vacuum when the knock at the door came. How could you have been sweeping when a piece of your very soul had been destroyed?

How could you have been sitting in your living room, sharing a glass of wine and laughing with Janice, when your husband was bleeding out half a world away? You'd focused on that for so long when you'd found out when he died. You'd hated yourself for it, for enjoying life, for having a laugh, while he lay suffering so far from his family.

The ring of the phone jolted you from your thoughts. Blinking, you set your wineglass down on the coffee table and padded, barefoot, to grab the cordless from its stand by the television before the ringing woke up Eli.

“Hello?”

“Hi honey. It’s not too late to call, is it? I was going to call you earlier but your dad invited Jerry and Susanne over without telling me and I just got them out of my house. They just bought a camper and once we got on that subject, they would not shut up about it. They had to tell us about all the bells and whistles it’s got and all the places they’re going to see. Good grief. It’s just an extra-large tent, you know.”

“A tent doesn’t have a running bathroom.”

You smiled, dropping back onto the couch, lifting your glass to your mouth as you listened to your mom rant for ten more minutes about this couple.

“Your dad met him at the golf course and, of course, now I’m stuck with not only him but his braggy wife. Now she wants to have lunch next week. She wants to tell me all about the pool they’re having put in this summer and the kitchen remodel they did last year. Please. I hate people who show off. Money doesn’t make anybody better than anyone else. Money can’t buy you manners or a kind heart.”

“No, you’re right about that. But come on, mom. Don’t you think it would be nice to get out of the house and go to lunch? You just met the lady. She might have been trying to impress you. Give her a chance.”

“Oh, don’t you start, too. Your dad’s been saying the same thing. Susanne loves reading romance novels just like you. You should invite her to your book club. You two have so much in common. Just give her a chance.” You could hear your mother’s eyes roll through the phone. “Maybe I don’t want to give her a chance. I have plenty of my own friends.”

“But dad doesn’t.”

A loud sigh came down the line, “I know he doesn’t. Anyway, how are you and that beautiful grandson of mine?”

“We’re both really good.”

Your mom went silent which was never a good sign.

“Mom?”

“Really? That’s intriguing.”

“What’s intriguing?”

“The emphasis you just put on really.”

“I did not emphasize really,” you sighed, heading falling against the back of the couch.

“You absolutely did. So what is the reason for this over-emphasized really?”

“Mom…”

“Oh, come on. Something’s changed since the last time we talked. And it’s something good by the sound of it. Is it so bad that I want to know what made my daughter so happy?”

“You’re very nosy, did you know that?”

“I do but also, you’re my child so I am allowed. If I can’t prod into every part of your life, then whose can I? Besides, it’s been far too long since I’ve heard that little…what word am I looking for? Delighted. You sound delighted. Exhilarated even. Dare I say exuberant? Effervescent?”

“Just because you teach creative writing at a university doesn’t mean you have to throw the thesaurus at me. I am not one of your students.”

“Darling, come on. Tell me what’s got you sounding happy for the first time in years. I can keep going. You sound jubilant, joyous, lighthearted…”

“Oh my god, stop,” you laughed, running your palm over your forehead. “Okay. If you must know, there might be a person…”

“A person? And is this person of the male persuasion?”

“Maybe.”

“And how did you meet this person who may or may not have a penis?”

“Mom!”

“Basic anatomy dear. It’s not that scandalous.”

“Jesus. You’re just as bad as Janice.” How you'd managed to be a product of your mother was beyond you, especially when your dad wasn’t much better. Both of them just said whatever they wanted, consequences be damned. “He is Eli’s little league coach. That’s how we met. Eli and his son, Jeremiah, became best friends this year at school and it started with just trying to get a playdate together. But then, because of the boys, we’ve been spending a lot of time together and he asked me on a date. We went out to dinner last night.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Your mother snorted and you could picture her face so clearly, the sound bringing back every time you'd tried to avoid a conversation when you were younger. When her mom asked about your crush on Elliot in junior high. When she’d tried to get you to share about your prom night. When you'd come home crying after Jessica Finch had told everyone you'd given blowjobs to half the basketball team. Your mother always knew and she always managed to dig it out of you no matter how hard you tried to resist. There was no resisting Sally Madden when she was on an information gathering mission.

“How did it go?”

“It was…perfect? I mean, it was amazing. He’s such a good guy, mom. He’s ridiculously good looking.”

“Oh! Describe him for me.”

You sat forward, crossing your legs, setting your empty glass on the table. How to describe Steve? It felt like there weren’t the words to accurately depict how beautiful he truly was.

“Okay. Well, he’s just under six feet. He has this chestnut colored hair. It’s so thick and it’s longer but not too long. It’s the kind of hair that most girls would kill for. He has hazel eyes and I swear, every color is in them. Sometimes they’re more green, sometimes more golden, sometimes more brown. It’s like they change with his moods. And his smile…his smile is like the sun. It’s so bright and beautiful and you just can’t help but smile too. And he has these adorable little moles on his face and neck. And he’s fit, you know, but not, like, too fit. He’s not all muscly but he definitely takes care of himself. His hands are huge. They could swallow my entire head but he’s so gentle. Oh, and his chest hair…I didn’t even know I had a thing for chest hair but apparently I do.”

Your mom giggled and your face flushed. You hadn’t meant to quite share all of that but once you began, it all just came spilling out. Had you really just talked about Steve’s chest hair with your mother? You could envision your mom’s feet kicking in glee, overjoyed that you had shared so much with her.

“Mom, please don’t make this a bigger deal than it is,” you pleaded. “We’ve only gone on one date and I have no idea where it’s going. It might be nothing.”

“I’m not making anything bigger than it is. Honey, you sound so happy. It is absolutely a big deal. It’s the biggest deal. Oh, I can’t wait to meet this guy who has made my girl sound like she’s truly living for the first time since Justin.”

That familiar knot of guilt coiled inside of you at your husband’s name. You rotated your ankles, willing away any kind of anxiety. It was okay. You were allowed to be happy. At least that’s what everyone kept telling you and if you shared how you were feeling with your mother, she would tell you the same thing. There was no point in rehashing it again.

“Mom, it’s really not yet. It might not even be anything.”

“You know, we were talking about coming for a visit. This could be the perfect time.”

“Oh no. Wait…”

“Oh honey, I can’t wait to meet him. I can already tell by the way you sound that he’s incredible. And he sounds so dreamy but then, you’ve always had good taste. Maybe we could plan a trip for next month. Your dad wants to catch one of Eli’s games anyway.”

Oh god. Your stomach rolled, your eyes darting to find something to focus on. The clock on the wall, the steady tick of the second hand. The ashtray on the coffee table that Eli had made for you last year even though you didn’t smoke. Your red pumps sitting by the door, discarded after a long day at work.

No. Your mom swooping in, fawning all over Steve, and inflating this into something much larger than it was…that was the last thing you needed. Sounds…you needed sounds. Any sounds that were not your mother screeching in your ear.

“Mom, I have to go.”

“Oh, but sweetie…”

“No. I need to go,” you gasped, struggling to find air.

“Honey, is it happening?”

“It’s ok. I’ve got control of it but I need to get off the phone.”

“Okay but if you…”

“Bye mom.”

You slammed the phone down, closing your eyes, going inward. The tick of the clock, the sound of someone’s radio playing next door, the hum of the washing machine. You wiggled your fingers, nodded your head, and tapped your foot.

It was under control. You were in control. You could do this. If your parents came it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Besides, you would love to see them. The last time you'd seen them had been Christmas and Eli would be overjoyed that they were visiting. You would have to give Steve fair warning before then. Yeah. That wouldn’t be awkward at all.

____________________________________________________________

Steve ran damp palms down the front of his jeans as he approached your house the next morning. You'd told him to be there by eleven so they would have plenty of time to get the baking done before the boys had to be picked up from school. Looking at his watch it was 10:56. He was right on time.

Of course, that could be because of how stressed he’d been this morning. After dropping off Jeremiah, he had called in to the office just to check in and make sure everything was set for the day. As soon as you had offered to let him come and bake with you, he rearranged his schedule, moving a meeting to tomorrow and asking Gerry to do the rounds of some of the job sites. But still, it was his responsibility, and he just wanted the assurance that all would run smoothly and he wouldn’t receive any calls interrupting their time together.

Gerry was great but he’d only been with the company for six months and often called just to double check decisions with Steve. His self-confidence was lacking. Steve had assured him that he could make the calls today, making it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be bothered for the day unless it was a life-or-death emergency. Nothing would burst the bubble of a new relationship faster than constant distractions.

He’d spent the two hours after that pacing, checking the clock, heading into the bathroom to make sure he looked okay, changing his shirt, anxiously waiting for it to be time to leave. On more than one occasion he’d grabbed his keys, thinking he’d just show up early but stopped himself, not wanting to seem too eager. But he was. He’d thought of nothing but you since your date, seeing your face, hearing your laugh, getting to taste those perfectly sweet lips again.

You had even invaded his dreams in the very best way possible. After a rather vivid dream of you underneath him, his name falling from your lips as you urged him on over and over, he’d had to take matters into his own hands this morning to relieve the throbbing hard-on he’d opened his eyes to. His hand moving over his length, picturing you in his mind, those pink lips and beautiful eyes, your dainty hand stroking him to release.

Fuck. Steve shook it off. He had to stop. He was not going to be able to control himself from making a move if he didn’t. It was hard enough to not touch you or kiss you when the boys were around and now, they were going to be completely alone in your house. That opened far too many possibilities and he didn’t want to push you too fast. He feared if the two of you made a move you weren't really ready for, then you would retreat, pull away from him, and this would be over before it really began.

Bracing himself, he lifted his fist and rapped on the door three times. He could do this. He could control these urges. He wasn’t a fucking pre-teen anymore who didn’t know what to do with a boner. He had this completely under control.

But then the door opened and no, he absolutely did not because there you stood, looking so damn enticing and all he could focus on were those perfect pink lips, currently curved up on both sides in the most delicious looking smile, and he was overcome with the urge to shove you against the wall and kiss you senseless.

“Hey! Right on time,” you beamed, waving your hand in invitation. “Come on in. I’ve got the kitchen all set up for us.”

“Great,” he replied, thinking you didn’t have the kitchen set up for what he actually wanted to be doing. “I am going to apologize now because I really am very bad at this. I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I may have just signed you up for double duty.”

You shrugged, bouncing barefoot, your toenails a bright sky blue, into the kitchen. The counter space was absolutely covered with mixing bowls, baking pans, containers of baking ingredients, and tupperware just waiting to hold sweet treats.

“Not a big deal. I actually love to bake. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”

“With your mom?”

“Oh god no,” you snorted, grabbing the container that looked like flour. “My mom would burn the house down if she tried to bake. She can’t cook, either. She hates the kitchen. If it weren’t for my dad, we would have lived off of take-out. No. I baked with my grandma. I used to spend most weekends with her when I was a kid and she always had something in the oven.”

“That’s cute. I can just picture little you, nose all dusted with flour. She never taught your mom?”

“Grandma on my dad’s side,” you explained. “We’re going to start off with basic rice krispie treats. Every kid loves a rice krispie treat.” At his skeptical expression, you laughed, sliding the recipe card toward him. “I promise. You can’t mess it up. It’s not even really baking. Nothing has to go in the oven.”

“You have far too much faith in me,” Steve told you, glancing down at the card.

“You just melt the butter and then add the marshmallows. The trick is to keep stirring it until the marshmallows are completely melted. Then you add the mixture to the Rice Krispies, spread it in the pan, let it cool, and voila, you have a yummy treat. I mean, anyone can do that.”

“You clearly haven’t met me. I can grill any kind of meat you want but baking…but we’ll see. I’ll give it a go.”

He set to work on the Rice Krispie Treats, grabbing a saucepan and a stick of butter. He turned the burner on low, watching as you began measuring and dumping ingredients into a bowl.

“And what are you making?”

“I am making my grandma’s famous strawberry crumb bars,” you answered.

“Ahh. So, does your mom’s mom not like to cook or bake either?” he asked, swirling a spatula through the butter gently.

“My grandma on my mom’s side doesn’t like anything,” you laughed harshly. “She’s a miserable woman who made my mom’s childhood hell. She got pregnant at twenty-two and the guy took off. She’s never told my mom who her dad is. I guess she never wanted kids and so she just acted like she didn’t have one. My mom practically raised herself, which is why she has no idea how to cook. She lived off of cereal and canned soup, whatever she could find because her mom went out most nights leaving her alone. She doesn’t speak to her and neither do I.”

“Damn, that really sucks for you and your mom. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, stirring the ingredients in the bowl. “It doesn’t really bother me. I never went without. It bothers me for my mom. It does suck. It sucks that she never had anyone to call about all the crazy shit that happens in life. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom. She drives me nuts but she’s my best friend, you know?”

“No,” he chuckled awkwardly, dumping marshmallows into the pan. “I actually don’t. I’m more like your mom, remember? Hell, I may as well be an orphan at this point. I haven’t seen my parents in years. They didn’t even come up to the hospital to see Jere when he was born. My mom saw him once, when he was four months old.”

“Jesus…that…Steve, I don’t even have words for that. How does a mother do that? How can they not want to see their own grandchild?”

“Probably because they don’t want to see me,” he answered, cringing as he attempted to stir the cereal into the sticky mixture. It did not want to mix and he had to give it some real elbow grease to get it to start blending together. “I’m a massive disappointment. I didn’t go to college. I didn’t follow in my dad’s footsteps and according to them, I married down and now I am reaping what I sowed. Like they’re the glowing example of a successful marriage. Staying together doesn’t mean it’s successful, especially when you can barely stand each other.”

You slid by him as he carried the bowl to the counter and you transferred your bars to the oven. Closing the door, you spun, hands braced on the handle.

“You know they’re wrong, don’t you?”

“What?” he asked, becoming frustrated as the gooey concoction fought back, not wanting to leave the spatula to transfer into the pan.

“Your parents. They’re wrong. Any parent who wouldn’t be proud as hell to have raised someone like you is completely out of their mind.”

“I think you give me far more credit than I deserve.” Steve groaned, shaking his hand as the marshmallow mixture stuck to his fingers when he tried to press it out of the bowl and into the pan.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you chuckled, grabbing the butter. “Here. Hang on.” You spread the butter lightly over the spatula, easily spooning the rest into the pan and then spread it over the top to even it out. “You don’t see what everyone else does.”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m not proud of where I’m at. I know I’ve done okay for myself. And I wouldn’t trade a single part of my life for the one they wanted for me.” Steve moved to the sink, squirting soap onto his hands, scrubbing at the sticky mess he’d become. “I just worry that you have this image in your head of me and you’re going to wind up sorely disappointed when I can’t live up to it.”

“Oh Steve, you’ve already far exceeded it. You don’t have to try as hard as you think.”

A shudder ran through him at the closeness of your voice. He grabbed the dish towel that was folded next to the sink, drying his hands as he turned to you, resting against the counter. You were right in front of him, those beautiful eyes filled with just as much desire as he was currently feeling. Was it real or was he just imagining it? Did you want this as badly as he did?

“I want to kiss you again. Jesus Christ, I’ve wanted to kiss you silly since you opened that door,” he stated boldly and you stepped into him, pulling the dish towel from his hands, tossing it back onto the counter.

“So what’s stopping you?”

That was all the confirmation he needed and then his hands were on your face, his mouth descending on yours. His entire body sagged as if in sweet relief, releasing the breath he’d been holding since he’d arrived. He felt like a parched man who’d finally received a drink of water, the very essence of life seeping into every pore of his being.

His hands moved to your hips as yours tangled in his hair and he pressed you back into the island, his lips never leaving yours. A moan vibrated from your body to his and the aftershocks of it shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he wanted you so badly. He wanted to taste every single goddamn inch of this woman, to run his hands over your bare skin, to watch as you unraveled before him. He wanted to worship at your goddamn feet. It was becoming harder to remember why he needed to wait.

It was made damn near impossible when you pressed back against him, your bodies colliding against the sink once again. Your lips broke from his and you gasped his name when his thigh came between your legs. You rocked forward against it and any sense of self-control he had snapped. He had to make you say his name again and again. He wanted to memorize you, to find out exactly what made you feel good, and then watch you come undone when he did just that.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, your hips rolling as you sought out the pressure of his jean-clad thigh.

Keeping one hand on your hip, his other slid into your hair, cupping the back of your neck. He finally allowed himself to explore more of you. His nose traced the line of your throat, his tongue following, relishing the shiver that raced over your skin as he did so. He sucked the lobe of your ear between his lips, reminding himself you were crossing over a dangerous line, one he wouldn’t be able to stop at soon.

“Honey…if we don’t stop now…I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” he rasped when your fingers dug into his back. “Fuck, I want you. I want you so badly right now but if you don’t want this…”

____________________________________________________________

His words filtered through the fog of desire that had you completely lust drunk. Did you want this? God, you wanted this. Your body was craving this. You wanted all these stupid clothes out of the way. You wanted no barriers between them. You wanted him in a way you hadn’t wanted anything in far too long. Was it stupid? Maybe, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think rationally right now. The repercussions of this were a problem for later you to deal with.

“I want this,” you choked out. “I want you.”

He groaned and then his hands were pulling your shirt over your head, his eyes hungry as they roamed over your chest, the pink lacy bra you'd put on as you'd tried to convince yourself it wasn’t for a reason when in reality it was for this exact reason.

“You are so beautiful, honey.”

You needed to see him too. You pulled at the hem of his shirt and he reached for it impatiently, pulling it up and over his head, dropping it to the floor. Jesus. Your eyes raked over every tiny mole, the mass of dark hair that coated his chest, tapering into a line that disappeared under the waist of his jeans.

“You too,” you murmured, entranced, your hand moving as if on its own, fingers slipping through the coarse hairs, following the line down his abdomen. You watched as his eyes slipped closed, felt the shudder that ran over his stomach, the muscles going taut, at your touch.

That soft smile, those warm eyes, threatened to melt you just like the butter on the stove. His fingers slipped under the straps of your bra, his eyes locked on yours as if asking for your permission. Your teeth raked your bottom lip. You nodded, feeling the silky straps slip over your biceps and down your arms. Then his fingers were brushing the curve of your breasts and he was gently pulling the lace away from you, exposing your nipples, already hard little pebbles.

“I just want to taste every single inch of your skin,” Steve whispered, the backs of his hands tracing the mounded flesh, ripples of anticipation coursing through you. He stepped into you, forcing you to step back. “Is that alright, beautiful girl?”

“Yes…”

Then his lips were wrapping around your nipple and your hand was in his hair, eyes rolling back in your head, your back arching against the island. He nibbled, licked, and suckled before his tongue glided over your skin, providing the same attention to the other. Your body was absolutely humming under his attention and when his fingers found the button on your pants, you trembled with the expectation of what was to come.

“This okay?” he mumbled against your skin, face nuzzled between your breasts.

“Uh-huh…” you whimpered, losing yourself in the feel of those stupidly soft lips moving lower, open mouthed kisses pressed against every single bare inch of you while his fingers worked your button and zipper.

His thumbs hooked in your belt loops, dragging your jeans down your legs, his lips taking the time to savor each inch of skin as it was exposed until you thought you would implode with need. Steve’s hand curled around your inner thigh, nudging your legs apart and you obliged, hands gripping the island behind you for dear life.

He looked up at you and your eyes found his. That was a mistake. As his tongue ran over his lower lip, his eyes darkening, turning a deep chocolate brown, you thought you would come right on the spot. You'd never had anyone look at you with so much desire, not even Justin. But you quickly shut that thought process down because if you let him in right now, you would never be able to go through with this and you wanted this so much right now. You needed this. You needed this like a man who had been starving for days needed a meal.

Steve leaned forward and then his warm breath caressed the lace of your matching pink panties. You inhaled sharply, eyes slipping closed as his nose ran over the fabric, bumping over exactly where you needed sweet relief. You whimpered softly, hips rolling toward him. His fingers curled into the cloth, pulling it down your legs while his mouth teased, kisses that were far too soft dancing over your inner thighs.

You lifted one foot and then the other, allowing him to pull them away, your body now completely exposed to him. Steve lips traced a path along the curves of you before they found yours again, his hands working behind your back, sliding bowls and canisters away. Those large hands grasped onto your ass, lifting you up and setting you on the island, your legs dangling over the edge.

“Lay back for me, honey,” Steve urged, his palm pressing against your breastbone until your back was flush with the formica. His hands slid along your body, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as his eyes soaked in every inch of you, stopping when they reached your pussy already glistening with need. “Jesus, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I can’t believe that I’m the one who gets to touch you…”

His thumb traced the seam of you and static, nothing but static filled your brain. He slid through your slick and then he was applying pressure where you were aching for it, grazing over the sensitive nub, your hips rocking up to meet his hand. All rational thought was gone. You couldn’t have contemplated anything if you wanted to. The only thing you could focus on was his hand and then his fingers pressing against your entrance before they were inside you, stretching you.

Your eyes fluttered open to find him focused on your face and you swallowed, hard. He was watching you like you were a painting at the museum and he was trying to interpret your meaning. Like you were an image he was trying to burn into his memory. Your already overheated skin was blazing under his scrutiny.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, his free hand roaming the length of your torso to palm your breast. “Tell me, honey. Tell me what you need. I want to give you whatever you need.”

You were going to die. You were going to die right here, on your kitchen island, and you would be the happiest woman to do so. This man seriously could not be anymore perfect. The way he kept checking to make sure you were okay, the way he wanted to know just what you wanted. This man couldn’t be real.

“It’s good…” you gasped. “Jesus, so good.”

“But tell me what you want. Come on. What do you like? Is it this?” He curled his fingers within you and your back arched, a wail of pleasure ripping from within you. Steve smiled, his fingers pressing against that spongy space within you that had your vision going fuzzy. “Yeah. You like that?”

“Yes…I like that…” you shuddered. “Oh my god….Steve…”

“I love when you say my name. Wanna make you say it over and over.”

He dropped to his knees, hands clasping your calves and draping them over his shoulders. A guttural sound, more animal than human, wrenched from your lips when his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking the tiny bud while his fingers continued moving within you. Your hips rocked, your head swiveled, your hands grasping the edges of the island so tightly the wood underneath was digging into your flesh.

“Steve…” His tongue flicked and fluttered. “Steve…” He circled and swirled. “Steve…” His lips covered it again, pulling it between them tightly, and you screamed, “Steve!”

Your entire body convulsed as trails of fire raced over your skin, the spring that had been coiling tightly within you from the moment his lips found yours finally breaking free. Your vision faded as everything turned white around you and you shattered under the force of your release.

An overwhelming need to feel every single inch of him overtook you and you shot up just as he was rising to his feet, the evidence of what he’d just done to you shining on his lips and chin. Your hands grasped at his face, pulling him in, the taste of your own pleasure evident on his tongue, only furthering your need for him.

His hands dropped on either side of you as yours worked at his pants, pushing them and his boxers down over his hips. Pulling your face from his, you looked down, your eyes widening at his girth. The man was even more hung than you'd imagined. Your hand wrapped around the width of him, your fingers and thumb not quite meeting and the muscle in his jaw jumping as he ground his teeth.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he growled as you moved your hand along the length of him, stroking from root to tip.

You watched his face as you stroked him, your thumb rubbing over the tip, spreading the dampness that was already collected there. He was so beautiful. His lips parted as he panted softly, the line of his jaw as hard as stone, his eyes closed, those long lashes resting on his cheekbones. And you were the one who was making him look that way. The very thought was enough to send you over the edge again.

“Wanna feel you, honey. I want to be inside you. Would that be alright?”

Yes. God, yes. You wanted that too. In answer, you scooted forward, slipping the head of him over your heat, raking your teeth over your lip when he groaned, the sound a rumble that ran right through him.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve groaned as he pressed into you, pausing to allow your body to get used to his girth.

Your body stretched for him, welcomed him, as if it had been waiting for him. He pressed further, the movement so slow, until your pelvises were flush together and he was completely buried within you. His hand cradled the back of your head, his forehead pressed to yours, as they stayed still for a moment, just relishing the feel of your bodies connected.

“Fuck, honey. You feel amazing. You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good,” you assured, touched that even now he had enough control to worry about you, to take the time to ensure that you were handling him okay.

His other hand gripped your hip as he began to move, slowly thrusting forward, his cock dragging along your walls, feeling like he was stretching you anew each and every time. He was being so sweet, so gentle with you, but you were craving more. You wanted him to move faster, to thrust harder. You wanted him to take you like you were his, to claim you, because in this moment you wanted nothing more than to belong to Steve.

His finger brushed your bottom lip, “What do you want, beautiful girl? Tell me.” Like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“More…I want more,” you gasped, fingers gripping his firm shoulder blades, nails raking over the skin. “Faster. Harder…more.”

Your body was screaming for it. It had been so long since you'd done this with anyone and your pussy was practically vibrating with excitement to finally be put to good use.

“Oh yeah?” His palm came to your breastbone again, pressing you back down onto the island. “I told you I would give you anything you want, do anything you want. You want it like this?”

His hands grabbed onto your hips as he pounded into you, your flesh slapping together, echoing in the space of the kitchen. You cried out his name, your hands wrapping around his forearms to keep yourself from slipping over the counter.

His hips pistoned relentlessly, giving you exactly what you asked for and that snake in your belly coiled tightly, prepared to strike once again. Gripping his arms, your back bowed, as you tumbled through the stratosphere that was the earth shattering release exploding from within you.

“Oh fuck…Jesus…you’re so…fuck!”

Steve thrust into you, fingers clenching on the flesh of your hips as he grunted, his release filling you. He sucked down a large gulp of air, sweat glistening along the skin of his forehead and collapsed forward on you, his face pressed between your breasts, cock still nestled within you.

“Holy fuck…” he gasped, his lips peppering your skin with soft kisses.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, “Yeah…that’s definitely one way to describe it.”

You lay there, panting, struggling to come back down from the high you were currently on when your nose wrinkled. You smelled something…wrong. It was an acrid smell, almost smoky. And then your fire alarm began blaring.

“Shit!” you yelled, slapping at his back. “The bars!”

Steve jumped up, slipping out from you and as you leapt from the island, his release slid down your legs. But you couldn’t worry about that when dark smoke was currently billowing out of the oven.

Steve grabbed onto a pot holder, opening the oven door and pulling the bars that were now a burnt crisp out. He dropped them on top of the stove while you ran to the kitchen window, cracking it open, waving your arms to try to get the smoke out. Steve grabbed the dish towel he’d used earlier and waved it by the smoke detector until it finally stopped its incessant beeping.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, bent forward and then you burst out laughing at the absurdity of this moment. Both of you, bare ass naked, racing around the kitchen to empty it of smoke.

“Yeah, holy shit,” he laughed. “I mean, I like to think sex with me is pretty hot but I’ve never almost burned down a kitchen before.”

“So much for the bars.”

He shrugged, slipping up beside you, his arms snaking around your waist, his face nuzzling into your neck.

“That just means we need to do more baking and I would definitely like to do more baking with you.”

Chapter 11

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Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. ❤️❤️❤️

Side note: I am getting ready to leave for vacation in a week so it might be a couple weeks before the next chapter drops because I don't plan on writing while I'm gone. But it will be here! Thanks so much for all the support. 😘😘😘

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fuumiku · 1 month

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Day 2 : Role Swap

Ok I have thoughts for this one bear with me. He’s a mage with a half-foot guild still but his activism is especially targeted towards half-foot mages specifically since they’re rare and so looked down upon (and the two are correlated).

Marcille scouts out places all Tomb Raiser style for lost treasures and knowledge, keeps maps and written info etc in her book. She’s still much of a scholar but more in an archeologist sense, she wants to discover the truth of dungeons and see if it could revolutionize the world. She’s a buildings and engineering nerd instead of magic nerd. She hypes herself up as a passionate cool rogue adventurer like in books✨ Chil thinks it’s a silly and unstable profession. All her um, grace and agility when doing headstands and dancing are coming through with this new role of hers.

Chil does need to borrow mana and so they hold hands a lot. I am so taking advantage of the mana transfer thing. "I’m out of mana, you’re an elf and you never use magic, give some to me! You have so much, don’t be selfish!!" -inparty fight breaks out as he chases after her and she runs away- I imagine that’s just kinda how he and half-foot mages roll? Dunmeshi-typical worldbuilding monologue that explains how "Most people don’t even use their mana, they don’t even learn magic. If you give me your mana I’ll be able to do more magic, win-win, no harm done." I imagine you have to be magic-savvy to be able to transfer mana to someone but it’s fine he can just steal it methinks 🌟 So he gets to be the one who’s very casual about physical touch. He does NOT want to be a healer it stresses him out but ah shit there Falin goes.

More AU details under cut

You’ve heard of onion knight now get ready for onion mage Y’know the saddest part of mage Chilchuck is that he wouldn’t use explosion spells

You know how Marcille uses her staff to grab people by the neck or head sometimes… Chilchuck would have a free choking stick he can use to make people listen to him. He can REACH THEIR NECKS . It doubles as a walking stick for his old man back… /j And a weapon, sort of. I think staff more than lance, but long weapons like that suit him I think. Holding the monster at bay with a 4 feet long stick like "Stay BACK!! Go for my party members shoo shoo!!!!"

From my observations, staffs for magic all have a ‘hole’ at one end, oh size, shape, material and form varying. For example both Marcille and Rin have a similar hoop, but Falin’s is a lantern which imo the metal frame of it and the glass form this hole I’m speaking of. Maybe it’s like, the staff condenses the magic inside the hole and helps channel it and give it form? What I’m saying here is I didn’t decide what it was made out of but I like to think it’s carved wood so it can be homemade but unique to him.

Marcille and Chil both fight in battles, but he stays where it’s safer and does long distance spells only. Marcile uses daggers probably… But yeah her role’s more being a scout rather than a fighter, while Chil’s role is being a magical fighter and his expertise on magical creatures and such.

I think he’d be self-taught, where it’s his own magic system… I think he likes theory more than vibes and working at the whims of creatures, so maybe elven with an half-foot script? He doesn’t seem like the type to get buddy-buddy with spirits much A bit like his cowl it’s like he always has a part of home with him a bit with his half-foot magic… He’d have sucked at the beginning, it’s pretty experimental magic, but he made it work and tbh he’s a Big Deal for it. Learning on the field ofc ofc he’s no honor student

I think the racial prejudices tension would be worse, because he’d be nervous of the whole ‘half-foots who get too curious about dark magic get taken away’, and I think as a half-elf who doesn’t do magic it might be uncomfortable for her to deal with how the half-foot is better at it than her and how her mana would have had better use with him instead of her? Idk brainstorming. I def think she’d habe more of a complex about being a half-elf… Still with existential dread and still Hopes to find a cure to death, but she goes about it through artefacts etc rather than magic. I’m unsure how her career would turn out that wqy exactly because job stability and academia are important to her, but yeah I think she went to school on an agricultural and history level and focused her research on that front? And then she could become that adventurer scholar who explores to pierce secrets of the world and ancient civilizations trope yeah I think that’s the angle.

Maybe his plans for the future after quitting being a dungeon diver would be teacher/mentor instead of shopkeeper 🤔 One one hand oh god have mercy on his blood pressure, on the other he likes contributing to his community and would want to encourage half-foot mages and pass down his knowledge and expertise I think. Empty nest syndrome where…- OHHH mage Meijack……. I was thinking becayse Meijack followed in his footsteps in canon but it could suit Puckpatti and Flertom too… Their dad would have shown them some magic tricks hehe. They can be a magical girl trio in my heart, Powerpuff Girls energy…

A rogue has gotta be able to make intricate af braids and updos with their fingers (ignore how in canon Chil is just barely decent at them nvm). I was thinking maybe one of Marcille’s lockpicks is Ambrosia-shaped… Or maybe it’s an hairpin. Maybe she keeps her lockpicks as pins in her hair but they’re easy to grab… Getting more gimmicky by the second but my heart yearns for it I cannot lie. I ended up doing something close to canon for Marcille’s outfits but at first I imagined she’d wear stuff more akin elven fashion, short dress with pants, light material, though also with a leather armor breastblate. She has long gloves like the ones that look fancy, maybe even up her upper arm rather than just forearm ooh… Also her little pouch, which actually contains stuff this time around (lockpicks). They still have matching pouches yay

In that last doodle Chilchuck weaved her a little familiar with twigs… So it is magical but it’s hers, and it’s a second stand-in for Ambrosia. Maybe a golem… It’s very silly and prob not real in the au but the thought of it is really cute. Someone on the discord said Fantastical Beasts Pickett which yesss lmao, it’s like a pokemon for "(lock)pick it!" I love arts and crafts Chilchuck so much. Sew clothes. Weave twigs. Woodcarve. Necromance a frankenstein. He can make himself a new wife (/J I AM SO /J)

Also for Izutsumi: I think the reverse of a ninja is a bard. Take that as you will. Angry bard who grew up in a troupe……

#Dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi au #marcille donato #chilchuck tims #marchil #marchil march 2024 #The way i could have had this out at lunch hour but brainrotted too hard #Content making or daydreaming it’s an all-marchil economy over here #So much half-foot magic hcs lately i love it sm #Sketch dump

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ravengards-rogue · 1 month

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Ooo for the writing game, maybe Lae'zel and sick fic? I feel like whether it's her getting sick and vehemently denying it or trying to care for a sick s/o in her own. Unique. Way, it would be very entertaining regardless dfjlask

✧ tags : gender neutral reader, sickfic, silly.

"You dare try to bench me like a foot soldier?"

You frown at her. She's visibly upset at you, brows pinched and face more scrunched up than you thought possible. If she didn't look ready to smash you into the ground under her boot, you might think she's cute.

Well that's not fair. You do, still, think she's cute.

But that's neither here nor there. Lae'zel is sick and there's no two ways about it.

It wasn't a regular illness. When is it ever with you people? Some home brew concocted ailment from getting sliced in the Shadowlands - that even Shadowheart is having a hard time dealing with, godly healing and all. The symptoms are obvious, weakness and high body temperatures and nausea. No amount or strength or healing potions seems like it's going to cure it and drinking all kinds of antidotes hasn't been working either.

Halsin has some suspicion about it, but he'd need some herb that grows closer to the cities gate and it's a few days trip to get there, even using the shortest route. For the time being, though, it means Lae'zel is ill. It's not anything too miserable. Seems like a peskier version of a common cold and it comes and lingers much longer.

But well, Lae'zel is a warrior githyanki. You don't think she's ever been truly sick like this in her entire life. She's also very obviously miserable in trying to fight it off, forcing her way into remaining in your group and fighting alongside you when Karlach could very easily take her place.

It was fine the first few days, but you're positive that keeping her around in such a way is only making it worse. As her unofficial lover and the only she seems to pay even a little bit attention too, the responsibility fell on your shoulders to ensure that nothing too terrible happens under your care.

So you've been trying to wrangle her into her tent with minimal success. She doesn't like being told what to do and what not to do - but you find that you're unwilling to budge because you really don't care to see her sick.

You frown at her, perhaps unhelpfully. Sighing, you place a tentative hand on her forehead and try to ease her back against the soft mess of blankets underneath her. You think she growls at you, or something along those lines. Something biting and cautious leaving her mouth.

You can tell she's exhausted because pushing her back down when she inevitably tries to get back up is half as hard as it should be.

"Lae'zel," You say gently, trying to keep her from biting your hand off "Please? Just... rest for a little while."

You play up the desperation in hopes it sticks. She at least seems softened by it. In some way. You purse your lips trying to figure out how else to convince, her nose still turned up at you. Something alights in your brain/

"Y-you know Lae'zel, when one warrior falls injured it's not a sign of weakness but proof of strength," You stumble, trying to sound as convincing as you can. "And it uhm, gives other members of the ranks to prove themselves. So it's not...weak for you to rest. Just gives everyone else a chance to catch up,"

You try not to cringe at the sound of your own voice, awkward and stilted. It's a little ridiculous isn't it? But well - while Lae'zel is a lot of things, she cares about the pack as a whole. Her words, not yours. Teamwork hopefully speaks to her enough to get her to listen.

She turns her head to look at you slightly, lips upturned as she huffs what sounds like a laugh. Definitely laughing at you. You flush, preparing to give up.

Her hands reach up for your face, think fingers cradling your cheek as she brings you down to her level to kiss you.

Her mouth is warm and the kiss unusually tender. You chalk it up to sickness because you can't fathom any other reason she'd do it.

"Your useless muttering reeks of the wizards influence," She says, and it sounds affectionate. To your ears at least. Maybe you're imagining it. "I shall rest, lest you bite your tongue on your own foolishness."

"Thank you, Lae'zel,"

"Keep watch," She mumbles back, eyes starting to close. And, maybe this time you're really imagining it - but it sounds like she's asking you to stay.

#guild gossip #rogues poker play #<- ask for little blog games lol #lae'zel x reader #bg3 x reader #shes soooo cute i love her

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atzfilm · 2 years

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clair de lune. (m) - part one

genre; yandere, vampire!au, reincarnation! au angst, smut

pairing; ot8/f.reader

word count: 20k

warnings; manipulation, explicit scenes, murder, blood, smut, more to be added

summary; you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous night club to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?

note: this first deals with the subject of yandere. with that being said, a lot of the things happening in this fiction will be manipulation, gaslighting, and various other techniques displayed by the characters. if you are not comfortable with that, please do not read.

part two

content; manipulation, gaslighting, obsessive behavior, age gap, murder, blood, injuries, dark subjects, weapons, emotional manipulation, panic attack, blood, murdering/referenced murder, a bit graphic with description of splinters, cursing, smut: threesome (fingering, oral sex (f.receiving))

part one:

Clair de Lune.

It’s a sign you see often whenever you pass by. Simultaneously enticing and irrevocably menacing. Rumored to have strange incidents happen day to day. Most unable to describe it once it happened, but never to enter again. You've never had the desire to step foot inside, the hearsay only persuading you that it isn’t your scene. You’d rather keep your memories of a night with you. Still weary that no local law enforcement looked into the incidents. It seems as if they govern themselves.

And yet, here you are. Staring at the outside of the building. Fingers picking at your skin, biting your lip. You weren’t sure what to wear, sticking to tight clothing and shoes that wouldn’t make you stand out too much. Not that you would. Most eyes would be on the stage, staring at the band Hiraeth. They’re quite famous; playing local gigs in your area for a couple of years now. You haven’t heard much from them, they don’t even have their music on any platform, only recordings some lucky people take and post online.

“Name?” The bouncer asks, earpiece in one ear and staring at you. He looks a bit irritated, a frown gracing his lips. You’d think he’d be more friendly to paying customers.

“yn,” you say, a bit loudly to speak over the stereos. He doesn’t even glance down at the list, nodding.

“Doesn’t look like your scene, love,” the scowl forms a soft smirk, brow raised. He’s handsome, silver hair pulled back to show his forehead, piercings covering his eyebrow, ears, nose, lip. You stare at the lip one a bit too long, his tongue rolling over it. “Hm?”

“It’s not, my friend invited me. Just visiting.”

“Ah, then I can understand why you’re dressed like that,” he glances down.

“You don’t need to be an asshole,” you shot back, frowning. He blinks in shock for a moment, before laughing.

“I love a feisty one. Go on ahead, your friend should be next to the stage. Just make sure the singer doesn’t pay attention to you. Could get yourself in trouble, love.”

Before you can insult him further (and question how exactly he knows her), you’re pushed through the doors. The hallway is dark, lined up with people. Some smoke, blowing the mist in your direction. Others look at you quizzingly, before glancing away. A lot of red eye contacts, a lot of metal protruding from their skin. Some in places you didn’t even know you could pierce. You quickly make your way down the stairs, the room already crowded.

You spot your friend, her eyes on the instruments on stage. Pushing through and saying excuse me several times, you finally make it over to her. She glances back at you and pulls you into a hug.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it!” She yells, trying to make her voice audible over the music. “You know they’re going to start any second now!”

“Traffic,” you shrug. Traffic, your ass. The only thing you did was stare at the clock ticking, hoping that the day would suddenly zoom forward and you wouldn’t have to go. But you couldn’t do that to her.

Clair de Lune is one of the most exclusive clubs in the city. Rarely does someone score tickets, let alone within a week of inquiring about them. You’re not even sure how your friend got them. A part of you suspects that she did it under nefarious means, especially with the way she grinned at you when she shoved the flier into your chest while you were studying. You could only roll your eyes and sigh, knowing that you couldn’t back out.

She pulls you closer, jumping with glee. “Don’t look so scared! It’s just a couple of songs and then we’re gone!”

You roll your eyes, her excitement rolling off on you. The apprehension that you have slowly dissipates into only a small worry, listening as the music drops. Only a couple of songs, you think. A couple of songs and you can leave.

The lights flicker off. You hear the slow rise of the bass guitar thumping, echoing around the small room. The crowd is hushed, too focused on the sounds. Your chest fills with an overwhelming feeling, your eyes closing as you listen to the weightless sound. A crawling feeling tickles your skin, and you open your lids, glancing around the room.

They land on a man just by the stage. He's tall, the red pigment of his hair seen even in the very low light. He looks serious, lips in a straight line, arms resting against his chest. But that's the least part of your worries. His eyes are focused on you. You don't dare blink, a part of you knowing that if you do, something bad may happen. The flick of his eyebrow makes you look away.

You look back to the stage, a smooth voice almost whispering. The crowd screams as the lights rise, showing the man holding the mic, a grin on his face as he sings his heart out. He's wearing all black, fishnet sleeves, a choker wrapped around his neck. His gaze moves around the crowd until it moves on you. You thought that he would look away but his dark eyes stay with yours, not a drop of sweat moving his bangs away from his face. What the hell is going on?

"Hwa likes you," your friend says into your ear. "He can't keep his eyes off of you!"

You roll your eyes, "He's not looking at me."

"He is!" She screams when he hits a higher note, pumping her fist into the air.

You look away, the poignant gaze of his almost too much to bear. The club suddenly feels too claustrophobic, the walls tight, bodies hitting yours as you feel the gaze of the lead singer on you. You eye the bathroom, and then the door. Only steps away.

A drum solo makes you stop. Your eyes move back to the stage. Ignoring the stare of the singer, focused on the man whose drumsticks fly through the air, foot tapping on the bass drum pedal, eyes closed completely as he plays. The crowd screams. But you can only stare. Watch as he expertly plays, lips curved into a smile. Blue hair pulled back with a headband. His eyelids open, immediately looking at you.

The crowd roars louder at his eyes opening, but you freeze. It has to be contacts, it has to be. The burgundy color keeps you in place. He tilts his head, observing you. A violin comes in, then a guitar. He hits against the crash cymbal and pulls you away from his mesmerizing gaze. You can see your friend looking at you with glee, screaming her head off. But something is definitely off. You can feel it dwelling in your bones. She moves away from you, speaking to a guy. You pull away, making your escape away from the stage. Unaware of the pairs of eyes watching you move across the floor. The lead singer and violinist make eye contact, nodding.

“Hey, hey. What’s the rush?” A hand stops you as you make it to the front door. You look up, seeing the same bodyguard that you did next to the stage, a frown on his lips. “You can’t leave when they’re playing a set.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you read the rules? No one leaves until the set's over. Can’t let you walk out there, sorry.”

“You can’t hold me here against my will-”

“I can, since you signed that contract for the tickets,” He grins, no humor behind it. “Enjoy the show. It’ll probably be your last, anyway.” His eyes scan yours.

You move away from him, the queasy feeling in your chest rising slowly. Thankfully the crowd is all pressed against the stage, enough room for you to walk freely to the other side of the place, into the bathroom. You shut a stall behind you, throwing your back head against the wall. What kind of place doesn’t let you leave the premise until it’s complete? And why the hell would your friend not mention that small fact to you?

She knows you’re not used to these types of things, knows that you’re hesitant. And yet, bringing you here without disclosing something that big… The thought only makes your anxiety lift. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to steady your breath. If you don’t think about it, it’ll be better. Maybe lessen your worry enough that you can indulge in the music until you leave. Next time, you’d never agree to go to a place without knowing all the details. You kick the door open, splashing your face with water before walking back out.

The sweet tone of the singer makes you look back at the stage, enticing you. Willing you to move closer. He sings softly into the mic, different from the one from before. You quickly recognize the bass player, both of his hands wrapped around the mic, singing softly. The crowd holds lighters in the air, singing along.

You lean against the pillar behind you, soothed by his singing. You’re surprised they don’t have their music everywhere - they would be famous instantly, especially with the way they play, the way they can control the crowd. Even if their skills were subpar (which isn’t even the slightest truth), they would become world renowned by their charisma alone. And they aren’t bad to look at either. You frown.

Men.

“You look upset.”

You jump, turning to your side. A man stands there, concerned. He gestures to the stage, arms crossed against his chest. He looks like he fits into the crowd- pants a little too low, colorful tattoos decorating his skin, hiding beneath his black tee. He glances at you.

“You look like a miserable human,” he comments. “Didn’t think I’d see such a sad expression at a punk rock concert.”

What an asshole. “Thanks for the compliment,” you grumble, and he only shrugs.

“Just calling it as I see it. Do you not like the band? Not your type?”

“I don’t have a type of music, just like whatever sounds good. And they do sound pretty good. Nice to listen to. Maybe a little loud, but that’s okay.”

He laughs at that, “Loud? Oh, baby, you haven’t seen loud.”

There’s a lull in the music. He winks at you, before jogging to the front. You almost open your mouth to warn him of the thick crowd, but they immediately part for him. He climbs onto the stage, grabbing the lone guitar sitting on the stand. He throws the strap over his shoulder, fingers dragging along the strings, singing a high note into the song, blending with the others easily.

Your heart plummets.

Did you just call their music okay? Speaking to one of the members? You glance at the door, the guard already looking in your direction. Excellent. Stuck in a place you don’t want to be. You place your gaze back to the stage, the guitarist you just spoke to glancing in your direction. Your eyes move to the way his fingers glide along the strings, hitting each note with precision. You were never interested in fingers.

Until now.

The songs eventually ended. Crowd high off the energy they brought to the stage. You walk through the meandering people, trying to find your friend. Everyone is in pairs or threes, speaking about the music. Not leaving. You reach for your phone in your back pocket, patting on empty fabric.

“Shit,” you look back, hands running along every crevice, trying to find it. You’re sure you were just looking at it, checking the time. But now it’s just gone. “What the hell?”

“You alright?” You turn around, seeing concerned eyes look into yours. It’s the guy that was just on the keyboard on stage, tilting his head down to look at you. They’re a dark red, flicking between yours. He’s not dressed like the others, all black yes, but no piercings. Not even a tattoo. Almost an outlier in the room. “Lost something?”

“My phone,” you say softly. The music is so loud, you’re sure he can’t even hear what you’re saying. But he only smiles, shaking his head.

“Probably in the back. The doors locked so no one ran off with it, probably with the hundreds of others. I can show you,” he flicks his head, pointing to a dark, velvety curtain. You hesitate.

Going into a strange place without telling your friend, with someone you don’t even know. The things you’ve heard and haven’t heard about this place ring through your head as you stare at him. He seems innocent enough, especially compared to the others you saw on stage. And there are people still walking around. Against your better judgment, you nod. He holds out his hand, and you take it, letting him guide you to the back.

His skin is cold to the touch, goosebumps raising on your arms. He pushes back the curtain, revealing a black door with foggy windows. There’s no room for regret to rise in your mind, his quick movements distracting you. He opens the door, letting you enter first. You thank him, stepping inside.

The room is covered with the same material as the curtains, draped against the wall. Leather seats line the walls, a glass table sitting in the middle. You spot five men walking around, grabbing food, stretching their arms. Band members that just performed on stage. The lead singer that was staring at you earlier doesn’t look in your direction, but the drummer does.

He widens his eyes, confused. “Hm? Brought a woman with you, Yunho? Never thought that would happen in this lifetime.” He leans back in his chair, staring at you. You look away from his gaze, trying to find a pile of hundreds of phones that Yunho promised.

The man behind you chuckles, shutting the door. “Ha ha, so funny. Almost laughed for real that time.”

“You know we don’t allow groupies back here,” The bassist frowns, blond highlights better seen in the light. It isn’t extremely bright in the room, but enough for you to spot some features of their faces. “Oh, I know you.”

“I don’t know you,” you respond.

He huffs, adjusting his long sleeves. “Cute.”

You glance back at Yunho. “You said there are hundreds of phones you guys find?”

He nods, “Yea. Just take a seat by Woo, I’ll get the bucket we used tonight from Mingi.” He disappears through another door, leaving you alone with the rest.

Perfect.

“Ah, you’re the one who called our music okay,” the bassist from before smiles at you, laughing. “I couldn’t believe it. I’m Woo, by the way. Short for Wooyoung. You can sit next to me. I won’t bite.” He pats the sofa.

Either you’re completely insane, or testing your luck. You take the seat without thinking too much about it, saying nothing in response. Wooyoung pouts, taking in your expression. “You look annoyed.”

“Pretty sure my friend disappeared into the void that is this place, and now I’m stuck in a room with people I don’t know because I lost my phone. Not my best night.” You shrug, staring at the table. Wine glasses line it, filled with a deep red liquid. You would have assumed its wine until the lead singer reaches over and takes a sip. It’s a bit thick, lining his upper lip. He lets his tongue drag along it, meeting your gaze. You look away.

“Silly,” his voice is deep, balancing the glass between his fingers. “Humans are attached to their phones. A rarity that one of them misplaces it.”

“Well you’re looking at the one in a million,” you point to yourself, giving him a closed-lip smile. He hums, saying nothing else. Where’s Yunho and that bucket?

You don’t notice Wooyoung slowly closing the distance between the both of you until his thigh touches yours as he stretches himself out, one arm resting on the chair behind your head. He smells like expensive cologne, not one whiff of sweat from their hour performance. You’d think you’d feel more uncomfortable with the closeness. But you’re somehow calm, your heartbeat steady.

You’re not sure if that comforts you or worries you.

“So you came to our show without knowing anything about us? Our tickets are hard to get.” The drummer catches your attention. “You don’t know any of our names?” He twirls his sticks between his fingers, the other hand tapping lightly on the table.

“My friend brought me a ticket and begged for me to come. I didn’t want to disappoint so I said yes. And yea, no clue.”

“Well, that’s disheartening. Who would’ve thought that a non-fan would get exclusive backstage passes? No one comes back here. Not unless we bring them,” he places his glass back on the table, a light tap ringing in your ears. “I’m Seonghwa, the lead singer. I presume you figured as much.”

“He always talks so stiffly,” Wooyoung frowns, sticking a finger in his mouth and pretending to gag. “I’m the favorite member by the votes on the web.”

“You always make these things up, be realistic,” Another rolls his eyes from the other side of the room. He nods at you. “Hi. I’m San. The best part of the band.”

Wooyoung snorts, causing San to shoot him a look.

“Hongjoong, and as you can tell,” he waves his sticks in the air, sticking one inside his blue mullet. “Drummer. Spotted you from the crowd. You say you aren’t a fan but you stared pretty hard.”

You bite your tongue, and he only laughs. The last man doesn’t say a word, lying far away from you. His hair bright blond, head resting on an arm, leaning him slightly up. His eyes are closed, legs shaking every so often. You don’t bother to ask his name. Something about his closed-off mannerisms only makes you want to stay away.

“Yeosang is our violinist. Something we thought would bring otherness to our music. He hasn’t been in our band long, so he’s not really communicative with fans. Or, people,” Hongjoong glances at you sympathetically. “He acts like that to everyone, so there’s no need to feel offended. We’ve told him about his people skills, or lack thereof.”

“I can hear every word coming out of your mouth, Hong,” Yeosang murmurs. “I don’t sleep, remember?”

“Naps aren’t his thing,” Hongjoong adds.

“Nice to meet you all.” You say, nodding at them. Yunho still hasn’t come back with the bucket. You would check the time, but there’s nothing hanging on the walls. And all of them seem to either have their devices hidden away or not at all.

What have you gotten yourself into?

"Why are you afraid?" His silky voice entices you, makes you look up from your hands and into his eyes. Hwa tilts his head, what you can only assume is a mock concern in his gaze. "We wouldn't hurt you."

Did you speak out loud? How did he even guess what’s going on in your head?

“I could see your eyes, doe. Terrified. Like a deer in headlights.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Oh?” Wooyoung moves closer to you, breath tickling your neck. He leans closer to your ear, lips a breath away from brushing against your lobe. “We can hear how quick your heartbeat is going. Yunho isn’t going to abandon you, he knows how excited we get around new hu-people.”

“That’s why I’m here,” San murmurs. “Keep Woo and Yeo under control. Sometimes Hongjoong, if he’s feeling a bit antsy. You're safe.”

The conversation shifted immediately. You’ve felt something off about them, from the charisma they emitted on stage, to the gazes that followed you around the club. To now, these light warnings have so much more meaning to them.

"How do I know that?" You say. "I don't know any of you, just your names." You have no idea why you listened to the guilt-tripping words of your friend, still out in the crowd. By now, you’re sure she probably left. SHe’s never the type to check up on others, always following her own plans. So many red flags for you to stay away from this place, and you ignored every single one.

A snort comes from the corner, Yeosang stretched out on the old couch, holes covering each and every part. He leans his head back, staring at you upside down. His eyes lighten to almost a dark red.

"We're dangerous, baby. And you smell too good for us to just pass you up."

You stand up, only to be pushed back down to the couch. Now, you can feel the pumping of your heart in your throat as you look around. The others watch you, barely paying any mind to Wooyoung’s hold on your arm.

“Let me go-”

“I’m sorry, really I am. But another one of us is about to come in and I can’t let them get at you,” Woo says, voice dripping with sorrow. “I swear, we didn’t expect any company. I thought we’d have more time to explain-”

“No more talking about it,” Seonghwa says harshly, staring at the black door. “yn, don’t say a word. Or it may be your last.” He stands, long overcoat drifting behind him.

You never said your name.

The black door you came through moments ago swings open. Yunho walks in first, bucket in hand. It’s quite large but he holds it with grace, balancing it between a few fingers. He looks agitated, giving you a calm smile before stepping aside. A man you haven’t seen your time walking around the club makes his way in, hands tucked in his side pockets.

Despite the warm weather outdoors, he’s covered completely. Everything that he wears is red, matching the colors of the eyes of the men in the room. His lips curve into a wide grin, lip piercing shining in the dark. A mullet peeks from the back of his head, head tilted as he glances around to look at everyone. You thought that these men in the room were the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen, but he equally matches them. You’re not sure if that frightens you even more, especially with the concerning look Woo gave you before he entered.

Hongjoong’s figure slightly covers yours, enough to hide you from his sight for a moment. Seonghwa’s warning rings in your ear, enough for you to keep yourself quiet. Now’s not the time to make a fuss, especially when you don’t know what these people are capable of.

"Seems like you had a successful set," the unknown man says, narrowing his eyes at Hongjoong. "Smells like you're hiding something else in here."

Your heartbeat only quickens. Wooyoung holds your hand, looking at you sympathetically and tugs you closer to him, hoping he doesn't inquire further.

"What do you want, Hanse? You know you're not supposed to be here," Seonghwa says, distracting him. “This is our land.”

Hanse widens his eyes in mock shock, “Oh? I just wanted to visit my friends, see what’s going on. You know how it is on the other side. They’re suspecting us, the humans-”

“That’s not our problem,” Seonghwa grinds his teeth, tucking his hands in his pocket. “Your carelessness doesn’t affect us in the slightest. There’s lines in the ground for a reason, you’re only causing drama if you attempt to cross them.”

Hanse holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m not here to cause a war. Just came to ask for a favor. Just a few, nothing more than that-” he stops talking, eyes flicking to the side. “Who is that hiding behind you, Hongjoong?”

Your blood runs cold. From the way they’re talking, you can tell something isn’t right. Who calls people, humans? Your mind tries to piece everything together, but the result is something you don’t like. Wooyoung tugs you even closer, his side touching yours. His hold is strong, clothing completely cold despite the warmth of the room. Another red flag that you’re ignoring for now.

“Nothing to do with you,” Hongjoong says, staying in place. “Leave.”

“Just let me get a good look at her,” Hanse takes a step. Yunho holds out his arm, stopping him in place.

“He said no. Learn to listen.”

Hanse frowns. This time the playfulness is gone from his gaze. “You never play with humans this long. What’s different about her? Is it the smell?” He sniffs. “She does smell sweeter than the rest-”

“Leave. And I won’t say it again,” Hongjoong stands this time, tucking his drumsticks into his jacket pocket. Hanse stares him down, lips in a straight line until he laughs, shaking his head.

“Fine. Subin would be very interested in hearing that you have a pet,” Hanse glances at you, finally revealed once Hongjoong moved. He smiles, raising his brows. “And she’s pretty too.”

He turns on his heels, walking out the door. Yunho closes it, letting out a long sigh. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

Seonghwa says nothing, gliding back to his seat. He takes the cup of ‘wine’, sipping on it slowly. Hongjoong turns to the rest, glancing at you for a moment. You move away from Wooyoung, a slight hesitancy from him before he lets go. You know that he’s probably doing it for show, the strong hold on you from before probably leaving bruises. You stand, ignoring all of their gazes and walking over to Yunho.

“I just need my phone, and you all can do what you want. I don’t want to be involved in any of this.” It’s true. Their mysterious allure is something you never took the pleasure of trying to uncover, not before and not now after meeting them. You don’t see them exchanging looks as you dig through the bucket Yunho sits on the small table, frantically looking for your phone.

“You’re not the least bit curious?” Yeosang’s deep voice speaks over the music playing. You falter in your search for just a second, before continuing to look.

Now’s not the time for curiosity. If anything, you hope that you can forget this night like many others seem to. Perhaps it can protect you from what you’ve seen and felt. Hopefully enough so that you can get back to your normal, peaceful life. No… strange creatures. Whatever they may be.

“Ignoring us isn’t going to stop what’s happening-”

“And what exactly is happening?” You turn to Wooyoung. “I just wanted my phone, that’s it. You can keep your weird gang activities to yourselves.”

“We both know that you know we aren’t just a band, yn.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, shaking your head. “I don’t want this.”

“It’s too late,” Seonghwa murmurs. “Hanse saw her face. He wouldn’t pause in his search for you once you leave our premises. I truly apologize that we involved you in our private affairs, yn…” You didn’t hear him stand, but he’s next to you, leaning down and peering into your eyes. “But there’s no backing away from this. If you ignore the danger, then you will be killed sooner rather than later.”

Fuck. You hold yourself up on the table, staring down in thought. You somehow trust his words, despite only knowing him for less than an hour. It’s not enough for you to completely trust him, but you can see that he’s not lying. Especially with the way Hanse was staring at you. Like you were his next meal.

“What are you?” You say softly.

“It’s easy to guess,” Yunho shrugs. “Shows at night. Hwa drinking blood, our cold skin. Points to only one thing.”

“We're vampires.”

You drop the bucket on the floor.

Wooyoung giggles, “When you say it like that, it makes it seem normal.”

“Not exactly a life I’d wish upon anyone,” Yeosang stands, brushing off his pants. “I need to patrol. You can talk to the human and tell her all the facts. Nothing I haven’t heard millions of times.” He glances at you as he walks past. His nose wrinkles but he says nothing to you, exiting out the door. Seonghwa nods at you, following behind.

Yunho guides you to the couch he was just sitting on, Wooyoung quickly shifts to sit next to you once more. His fascination with you is odd and frankly alarming, but there’s more to worry about right now. Like being stuck in a room full of people who would suck your blood without thinking twice.

Normal problems.

“What does this mean for me? Why are you telling me this?”

“Well,” Hongjoong looks at the floor. “Hanse isn’t exactly a reputable vampire. His clan owns the neighboring city, and we own this one. There have been incidents on their side of humans being killed, many considering there being a serial killer on the loose. Nothing has come to affect us, but because of the alarm, many of their citizens have been avoiding leaving their homes. And less people on the streets means-”

“Less blood walking around,” Yunho says. “They’ve been pestering us about sharing our land, but we’d never consider it. Their way of feeding is… quite different from ours. We don’t kill them, just let them forget about it. No murders.”

“Not recently, anyway. No reason to lie. We weren’t exactly model vampires all of our lives,” Hongjoong says. “But now that Hanse knows about you, he’s not going to stop. Yes, your blood smells sweet, sweeter than anything I’ve scented in a while,” he sucks in a breath, eyes flicking to your neck. An unreadable expression crosses his face, before he shakes his head. “But you aren’t our pet like he thinks. And there’s no way to convince him that that’s not the case. They’ve always wanted their own… walking blood supply. And if he believes that you’re interested because you were with us, he’ll eventually find you and take you away so they can have you for themselves.”

He looks into your eyes. “We’re sorry.”

"No, I'm not doing this." You stand, pulling your arm away from Wooyoung's outstretched hand. "Fuck you, fuck all of you. I'm going home."

"Not possible.”

A voice you haven't heard before speaks up. You turn to the door, quickly recognizing the man that was on stage earlier. "And who are you exactly?" Your head flicks to him in the corner, hands resting crossed against his chest as he avoids looking in your direction. Hongjoong slowly grins, teeth piercing the soft skin of his lower lip. Despite their confession to you, you can't help but tremble in fear at his expression.

You can already feel the drumming of Wooyoung's fingers. Dancing close to the back of your neck, inching closer and closer as seconds pass.

"That's Jongho. Our other lead singer. He doesn't really interfere with our activities. Keeps to himself, right?" Hongjoong wiggles his eyebrows at him, but he doesn't bother moving from his stance. "He's a bit boring. Humans are much more interesting than him. He is a vegetarian, after all."

"A vegetarian?"

"Sips the blood out of bags, yn," Wooyoung is closer now, words brushing against your skin. Sending trembles down your spine. He grins, tilting his head. "But he's a little anxious, you see. You just smell so good, even he's getting nervous."

"Fuck off," Jongho growls from his spot, glaring at Wooyoung. His eyes don't meet yours, but you can see how they linger over your figure, focusing on the small portion of your skin peeking out from your collar. He shuts his eyes, looking away.

You can't decipher much from his gaze, the bodyguard from the front door bursting in the room. His nose is flared, fists clenched on his sides. He looks to you, recognition in his gaze.

"The blood bag from the front door?" He says, a bit of a question at the end. He takes another step, quickly stopped by the look Hongjoong gives him. "Out of every human you could choose, her?"

"Is there a problem?"

He glares, "There are humans that smell sweeter than her.”

“They were dull and lacked life. She is a talkative one. And didn’t run when I confessed. But we all know why she’s here,” Hongjoong shrugs, looking at you.

“I’m not going to be one of your blood bags, Hongjoong. I’m not going to let you sit here and tell me that I’m going to let you do anything you want with me. Fuck you.”

“We don’t want that from you,” Hongjoong sighs softly. “Mingi is just in a mood. You’re more special than a simple human for us to feed off of. San here,” he gestures to the man, “He has a contract that you can sign before we discuss things further. It will protect us, and protect you. No information will be leaked to unruly parties, and you will be safe from ever being affected by our wrongdoings. It is an even trade.”

What the hell is he on about? You just wanted your phone, not to sign contracts with strangers. You glance at San, scoffing. “He deals with law? A bit hard to believe,” you eye said man, but he only quirks a brow. As if inviting you to speak further on his character. Of course you don’t take the bait; you consider your life a bit too precious to just toss away at the whims of a vampire attorney. Even the combination of words are a bit silly to even think of. So you only purse your lips, moving your gaze away from his alluring one.

“Which is understandable,” Hongjoong concurs. He takes out a necklace, holding it between his fingers. “But with the long lives we have lived, it will be unfortunate if someone decided to bring the force of the law against us. I’d rather not spend my days rotting behind a prison cell. Not that we would, of course. But it is helpful, nonetheless.” The necklace drops to the table, a wince from Yeosang catching your attention. “But we didn’t bring you back here to tell you about how San practices law. This piece of jewelry, can you touch it?” Hongjoong slides it against the glass to you. Oddly, it doesn’t scratch at all.

The room grows silent; only the muted music filling the air. You stare at the jewels, the emerald color quite vibrant in the low light. Your curiosity almost outweighs the red exclamation points of danger. So despite it, you only stare at it then flick your gaze to Hongjoong. He tilts his head, waiting for you to respond.

“Why? How do I know this won’t curse me for all eternity?” You question. Seonghwa scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What? I know none of you. Do you expect me to blindly follow your words?”

A scoff from the corner catches your attention. “Quite brave for a little human. Even if she turns out not to be ours, it will be entertaining to see her plead for her life.” You don’t recognize him from the performance they’ve just completed. He’s considerably taller than most of the men in the room, attire similar to theirs. You’d wonder if he actually was part of the band, but your thoughts are preoccupied by the slow movement of Yeosang from the back of the room. He catches your eyes, a small smile on his lips. Instead of comfort, it is more eerie than anything else.

“Don’t tease her, Mingi. Lady,” Hongjoong’s eyes move back to you, scowl falling. “This is not a ruse. If you touch it and you don’t give us the desired reaction, then we will let you go. It is as simple as that.”

“But I know what you are. I could just leave and tell people about it,” you say, brows furrowed. It’s not the wisest thing to do, mentioning your place. But they all seem to only laugh at your words, puzzling you more. “What’s funny?”

“You truly haven’t heard of this club. I thought you were jesting, but it seems to be true,” San chuckles, shaking his head. “Our reputation precedes us. We’ve been accused of being ‘vampires’ countless times to the authorities. Your words will be nothing new to their ears. It’ll just add to the pile of delusional patrons surrounding this place.”

“You’re lying,” you glare, and he shrugs. He leans behind him, grabbing your cell phone and dialing the police. Once he puts it on speaker, he waits.

“This is the emergency hotline. What is your emergency?”

The teasing expression drops, a panicked one replacing it. His voice is desperate as he speaks into the phone. Playing into the character of a frightened club goer. “This band that performs at the Clair de lune, there’s something off about them. One of my friends went in their backroom and told me –“

“Told you that they’re drinking blood?” The operator’s voice is unamused, almost monotone as she listens to San’s pleas.

“Yes, and I know this sounds crazy but please just listen to me-“

“Sir,” the woman interrupts San. “Do you understand that this line is for emergency use only? We do not tolerate false claims and our officers do not have time for it when other callers need this line more than a prank. If you call back again about this, you will be reported and fined. Do you understand?”

“But-”

“Do you understand, sir?” She presses him. He sighs – even you believe his fake hysterics – and agrees, ending the call. Without another word, he tosses you the phone. You grab it, gripping it tightly as you try to think things through. There had to be dozens of calls from his place for the police to just brush him off that way. How incompetent can the police force be? You’d think that they’d actively investigate the club if there’s been so many calls. Or perhaps they did and found nothing of value that’s been mentioned. Nevertheless, it leaves you at a disadvantage. If the police won’t believe your words, you have no escape.

“So, what will it be? The necklace isn’t laced with poison or anything nefarious. A touch won’t kill you,” Hongjoong moves the necklace closer. His persistence is irking on your nerves, but you avoid letting it get to you. It will be quite unlucky if you didn’t survive this encounter.

With great hesitance, you reach for the necklace. Breaths are hushed as your fingers hover above the jewel, your skin touching it lightly. You feel nothing at first, lifting it in your hands and examining the metal. At least, until your eyes peer into the jewel.

“I will be delighted,” a voice raspier than your own falls from your lips, brows raised as you gaze at the man in front of you. Somehow you, in this vision of sorts, doesn’t see it the least bit odd. But as you stare, your confusion only grows. Most of the clothing looked thrown together; loose fitting garments tucked into slacks, boots worn but still kept in okay shape. The more you take in his outfit – wide brim and cloth lazily resting against his shoulders – the more you believe that he’s a pirate. A slight difference from what you’ve seen in the media, but still a pirate. One gold earring accented his ears. That distinction made you recognize him in an instant.

Hongjoong rests his body against the wood of the ship. “Will you? But your eyes have been cast elsewhere. Seonghwa has taken your fancy instead of I.”

“Has he? Because I do recall a well night’s toss in the quarters of Wooyoung. Or was it Yeosang? Jongho? I cannot keep count,” you quirk your brow, fingers brushing against the familiar necklace. His eyes follow your movements, tongue moistening his lips. “Me agreeing to be aboard this ship was never a promise that I will lay with one man. And why would I, when there is an endless supply?”

“You treat us like goods?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you move closer, hand resting a breath away from his. “I treat you like treasure.”

You drop the necklace from your hands, chest tight. You would’ve said it was a daydream, a mere thought you were swept up into. But something that real, that feeling, it felt nothing like a dream. Your phone is unmoving between your hands as you stare at the reflection of the door in the mirror ahead. Pretend it was nothing. They wouldn’t be the wiser.

Your plan doesn’t even get the chance to work, Hongjoong taking the necklace from where you dropped it, tucking it into his suit jacket. Your sarcastic attitude shifts for a moment as you watch him stand, your eyes following his every move. That lapse in judgment makes you forget that there’s others in the room. Particularly, Yunho standing guard by the door.

“Oh pretty,” Yunho tsks, your eyes meeting in the reflection. “I knew it was you.”

“How could this be possible?” Wooyoung paces back and forth, hand running through his hair. “It has been hundreds of years. It can’t be. It was just a mere dream, there was no chance that it could be true. Souls are rarely seen in similar bodies.”

“Would you rather it not be her?” San gripes, eyes still on you. “I for one am glad to see you again. The last few hundred years have been quite the nightmare.”

“We don’t even know what she saw,” Mingi says, moving from his lean against the far wall. “It could be just a farce. Getting riled up over nothing will only hurt us in the end.” He looks at you, eyes narrowed. “Now, what did you see?”

“Nothing,” you say, unmoving from your spot. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t utter a word about it.”

“Your attitude was endearing in the beginning, but now it’s really getting to me,” he replies back, voice sour. “Even if you are her, there’s only a small part of me that would hesitate to kill you.”

It’s not an empty threat in the slightest, his eyes glowing in the low light. You’re running out of options fast. They won’t let you go, not until you tell them what you’ve seen. And although you’d prefer to lie to get out of it, there isn’t a chance that it’d work. You just know.

“Patience, Mingi,” Yunho touches his forearm lightly. “We have all the time in the world. She will confess what she’s seen, one way or another.”

“Why do you care? And why are you speaking to me and asking if I know you? I’ve never seen any of you in my life.” You’re not fibbing with your words. Despite their popularity in this neighborhood, tonight is the first night you’ve caught a glimpse of what they look like. Oddly enough, there aren’t any photos of the popular band on the internet. Band, you scoff to yourself. More like a clan of bloodthirsty creatures. Ones that have probably bribed the police officers of the strange occurrences in this underground club.

“In this life, yes. But in a past one, you saw us quite often,” Jongho murmurs. He’s the only one who hasn’t gazed into your eyes, his focus stuck on the floor beneath him. “It’s difficult for humans to remember what they once were. It’s rare and few in between. This is why you need to tell us what you’ve seen. We know you want to leave. A simple explanation of what you witnessed when you touched that necklace is all that we need to know.”

“… That is all?” You ask no one in particular. Each one nods their head though, moving closer, interested in what you’re going to say. You press your hands between your thighs, thinking back to the images in your head. “It wasn’t anything extraordinary. There was… a woman and a man. They were speaking to each other about spending the night together. He was a bit jealous that she had other partners besides him, but she expressed that she isn’t confined to just one man. And then she touched that necklace on my neck. That’s all that happened.”

San laughs, astonished. “You are her.”

“I’m not! It was just a dream-“

“Your neck,” Yeosang says after a moment. “You said she touched the necklace on my neck. A slip of the tongue says a lot,” his demeanor has changed, stiff body a bit more relaxed. “Where were you? What location?”

“I…” You think hard, trying to recall. The scene was quite dark, but you did hear something behind the hushed tones. The sound of loud waves hitting wood. “It… it must have been on a boat. There’s no other reason for that sound.”

“It was not a mere boat, my rose,” San says softly. “The Hiraeth was unlike any other. She was an infamous ship, housing the most feared crew of the seas. Hongjoong would have thrown you overboard if we were on her at this moment,” He teases, glancing at Hongjoong. “He didn’t earn his place as captain of the greatest ship that’s ever sailed for her to be called a small boat.”

“As you can see, San is very passionate,” Hongjoong notes, laughing softly. “But his words ring true. All of us in this room fought our hardest for us to have the honor to be aboard the Hiraeth. Unlike you, of course. You caught a ride on our ship when it was at port. Who would’ve thought that we would catch the eye of the rose?”

“Rose?” All of their words are going in one ear and out the other. The Hiraeth, a ship that they’ve once owned in a prior life – correction, the immortal life that they live in now. And somehow, your previous reincarnation knew them back then. It sounds far-fetched, but a part of you believes it to be true. They can either be a strange cult that likes to drink human blood (which may be true), or they are in fact vampires, living beyond years that you can comprehend. Questioning them is the only thing you can do to figure out what exactly is going on around here. “Why do you keep on calling me rose?”

“That is a long story for the short amount of time that we have right now,” Yunho says, staring at the door just behind you. “The next set is soon. We can’t keep them waiting. You may go.”

You don’t let any of them say another word, grabbing your bag and turning to the door. You grip the knob, swinging it open. It slams against the frame behind you, but you pay no mind. The crowd is still as rowdy as before, more patrons moving close to the stage to see the band that they all love. Unlike yourself, who’d rather be far away from here. It’s rough getting through, most people stuck in their spot, blocking your way to the exit. The strum of a bass doesn’t even stop you. Until you bump into someone in front of you. You almost curse, the thought drifting from your mind as you stare at them. It’s as if they’re frozen in place. Stuck in a trance. A quick glance around makes you see that everyone is. Not one of the concert goers is moving, eyes straight ahead to the stage. Against your better judgment, you follow their gaze. Wooyoung holds the bass guitar, lips pressed against the mic. A small smirk slowly forms on his lips, lids heavy as he grips the stand. The boom of the drums makes you jump, Jongho’s singing vibrates through your body.

You pull yourself out of the hypnotic sounds of music, moving around the people in a trance and making your way to the door. Mingi stands there – somehow getting there before you – blocking your way.

“I thought I was allowed to leave?” You hiss. Mingi’s brows quirk, head gesturing to the stage.

“You’ll miss the main event,” he says simply. He doesn’t budge, and you don’t dare touch him. You reluctantly turn around, gaze moved back to the stage. Your mouth dries at the scene ahead. Wooyoung grips a person in his hands, lips pressed against their neck. From afar, it would look as if he’s trapped them in a romantic embrace. But you know better. Especially with the tightness of his hold on their arms, the shimmer of liquid falling down their skin, dripping to the tiles below. It's as if you're frozen in place like everyone else, unable to look away from the scene in front of you. But it's not the worst part of it. Despite the gruesome scene, his eyes are on yours. Steady. Unblinking.

"He's not going to kill him," Mingi says, pulling you out of the trance. "We don't kill any of them. They just won't remember why their body aches. We aren't killers, y/n. We've grown out of that."

You look away from Wooyoung, moving around Mingi. He doesn't stop you this time, even as you trip as you make your way up the stairs. You swing the door open, the cold air of the night hitting you harshly. You don't stop moving, even as you run out of breath. You make it to the nearest bus stop, squeezing yourself into the seat and staring ahead, tucking your legs close to you. There's no one on the sidewalks, no one that would be a witness if one of them decided that you were better as dinner than whatever they want you to be. Your fingers dig into your pants, lip trembling at the image burned into your mind.

"What the fuck," you curse, biting your lip. Your teeth pierce the soft skin, a soft ouch whispered as you touch it. "Can this night get any worse?" You wipe the residue on your shirt. It's too late for the buses to be running, way past 12am. The next one is around 6am, hours from now. You think, pressing the power button on your phone. It doesn't turn on, no matter how many times you press it.

"Just my luck," you say, tucking it into your pocket. Your apartment isn't too far away from this place, but that means walking at least fifteen minutes alone at this time of night. You widen your eyes, realizing what you've just done. You left your friend at the club. A club filled with vampires. You quickly stand.

Ignoring the warnings in your head, ignoring how your body fights against you, trying to pull you back from jogging to the entrance of the club. You reach it, gripping the knob. It doesn't budge, no matter how many times you pull on it. Your fists hit the metal, but no one answers.

"I know you can hear me out here!" You screech, tugging once more then kicking. You rub your face, swallowing slowly. She has to still be in there. Sure, you saw her chatting up a guy but she wouldn't leave when she wanted to see Hiraeth play. She's many things, but she doesn't waste money. No matter how attractive the guy is. And despite knowing that she'd leave without a second though if she was in your position, you can't do the same. Not when you know what this club is.

But you had little alternatives left. If they won't open the door, how would you help her? Stand outside all night, waiting until it opens again? Wait until a patron stumbles out and takes that opportunity? You continue to curse at yourself, sighing loudly.

"A rose shouldn't be in despair."

You whip your head around, eyes widening. The man from before – no, vampire – stands there, hands tucked in his pockets. His head is tilted as he stares at you, tongue dragging along is piercing on his lips.

"Do not fuck with me," you say harshly, despite the fear in your heart and your sweaty palms. You have nothing, left it all in your purse, still in the backroom of the club. Right now, all you have are your wits. And you haven't exactly started off on the best note. "Get the hell away from me."

"I didn't recognize you at first. The fucks in there wanted to keep you hidden from my eyes. And they did, for a bit," he purses his lips. "But it's a bit difficult to hide how pleasant you smell. Even someone as poise as me could sniff you out in a room full of blood."

"I'll give you the perfume name if that's what you want."

He laughs, head thrown back as it echoes in the night. You move a bit closer to the door, hoping that someone leaves the club. It's a longshot, but it's the only one you've got.

"Ah, still as snarky as before. Although," he glances at your neck. "You're not bleeding like you did when I last saw you. Still have that scar in the middle of your chest?"

You touch your chest quickly. Fabric is covering your skin from being seen, so there's no way he could've known. The oddly shaped birthmark that you've had since you were young sits there. You've tried covering it up with makeup, anything. But it always shows. No matter what you've tried. How could he …? You furrow your brows. Perhaps, the guys weren't lying as much as you thought.

"What do you want with me?" You ask.

Hanse shrugs, moving closer. "Just to talk. Can't really talk to you with your bodyguard hanging around, though. Back to my place?"

"In your dreams," you shoot back. His friendly smile slips, lips in a straight line.

"There's only so much patience I have, rose. You might not believe me now, but staying around here, seeing Hiraeth often isn't wise. Their words are cunning, sharp. You will begin to believe everything they say, your doubt will disappear. You will not be safe here."

"And I will be safe with you? A stranger? Do you believe that I will just agree and go with you?" You're both afraid and furious. Do these men take you for some damsel in distress, ready to hop in the arms of the first man that offers? “Get the fuck away from me.”

He rubs his eyes, sighing softly. His gaze moves back to you, taking a card out of his pocket. He holds it out between two fingers, waiting for you to grab it. You don’t, so he flicks it. You catch it with ease, looking down at the words written.

Do Han-se

XXX-XXX-XXX

“If you ever need me, us, you can give that number a call. Even if it rings once, I’ll be able to find you. Wherever, if you need me,” he says simply. “I hope that you won’t ever have to dial it, but keep it safe, rose. Subin wouldn’t like it if you died early again in this life.”

“Who…?”

You look up. He’s already gone, the only presence of him being this strange business card. You think about tossing it away, throwing it down a sewer. But instead, you tuck it in your front pocket. The doors to the club open, people coming out. The crowd is loud, laughs echoing around the side street. You wait there patiently for any sign of your friend. After what seems like several minutes, she comes out, glancing around. Her eyes land on your, and she grins. She tugs along a guy pressed against her side. You wrinkle your nose, ignoring him and looking at her.

“Where’d you go- Hey!”

You push her hair to the side, looking at her neck. No marks are left there, and you sigh in relief, moving away. She glares at you, but you ignore it, glancing at the man she has tagging along. “Did you meet someone?”

“Yesss,” her words drag. You’d think that she’s drunk, but that’s just how she acts without an ounce of alcohol. She pulls him close to her side, pressing her lips against his arm. “His name is Jaehyeong, and we’re in the same classes! He’s going to take me home. He can take you too, you know. I think the buses aren’t running anymore.”

You honestly don’t trust this Jaehyeong, but you agree, letting him lead the both of you to his car. It’s not the most dangerous thing you’ve done tonight, and definitely not the last. You shift into the backseat, throwing your head back against the rest.

The ride is smooth despite the flirtation between the both of them. You tell her to message you when she arrives at her house, and the next morning. But before you leave, you tell her to send you a photo of his license and registration before driving off. It might be a bit of paranoia, but you can’t really trust anyone these days. Especially since tonight, the alarming danger you’ve just been through. But you’re home, you’re safe, and you didn’t see anyone tailing his car. So you walk into your apartment, tossing your bag onto your kitchen chair and sitting on the couch. You’re thankful a bit for your mini vacation that you took from work, enough time to recuperate and settle your heart before you go back to the store.

The night seems long as you get ready for bed, taking a quick shower. You feel the insides of your pockets, fingers touching the card. You take it out, staring at the numbers. Getting rid of it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. But it’s a reminder of tonight; the gazes of Hiraeth on you, the knowledge that you now know of vampires lurking around your city. You take one more glance at the card then toss it in the bin.

Your break is over quicker than you thought, sighing as you put on your clothes. You adjust your hat, grabbing your phone off the charge and leave your apartment. The days after the club incident have been dull, nothing out of the ordinary happening as you went back into your routine. You looked over your shoulders almost everyday, but the thought of them now only lingers in the back of your mind. There hasn’t been an appearance from them or Hanse. You’re thankful for the boringness of it all, thankful that you don’t have to worry about a vampire appearing from around the corner. Especially since you work the day shift. Not that you know exactly how vampires work, but you’ve seen that in several movies. All of them emphasized that they couldn’t walk around during the day.

You make it to work okay, greeting your coworkers and going to the back for the cart of book returns. You hum as you restock, frowning when you see half empty disposable coffee cups in odd places. You toss them as you walk by, using hand sanitizer every so often. Your cart is almost empty when you hear a familiar voice in the aisle in front of yours. It’s softer, you don’t quite notice it until you hear them continue to speak.

“Ah, she has to be around here somewhere,” your manager says. “She’s the one that you’ll need for recommendations. Reads fantasy every chance she gets,” he chuckles. You stop moving, listening to their steps.

It can’t be. It’s not possible.

“Does she?” His voice is soft as he speaks to your manager. “That sounds like the perfect person to speak to.”

You grip the cart, thinking. It’s possible that he didn’t know it was you. No, they had to know. The coincidence is too unreal for it to be true. But if they know where you work, what else do they know? Your family, your friends? Where you live? A shiver rolls down your spine. You leave your cart abandoned, moving down another aisle. The steps of your manager and him turn down where you just were as you hide in between bookshelves.

"Ah, I thought she was here," your manager says. "Well, this is the aisle you'd want to be in. I'll try to find her but our store is pretty big, there might not be much luck."

"That's too bad. Thank you sir, I'll find something on my own."

They exchange a few words, before your manager walks off to help someone else. You close your eyes for a moment. Letting out a breath of relief at his words. Perhaps he'll leave? Give up? You're stuck in the corner of the bookstore, and the only way is forward. So you stand there silently, ears perked for the sound of his steps fading. Instead, though, you hear him waltz forward, closer and closer to where you are.

"You've always been cunning, doe."

You freeze at the words.

"We've told you before. Your scent is strong, you know. Nothing smells like you. Even the thick scent of perfume you've been wearing doesn't mask it. That is a smart move, though. If I wasn't already familiar with your scent, I would have walked away."

Your chest rises and falls as you shrink into yourself. "How did you find me?" You ask.

He chuckles lightly, "How? We've never lost you, doe. A few days of not seeing us doesn't mean that we haven't seen you. We told you that you're special. Why hide when we will find you?"

You glance around your spot for any escape. Anything that can make him leave you alone. But there's nothing. His slow steps round the corner, your eyes meeting his gaze. He's wearing all black, a few loose buttons on his shirt showing his skin underneath. His hair is pulled back, showing his undercut. But his lips are smirking, eyebrows raised as he stops at the end. Watching you.

"There's my pretty little doe."

"You can't be here. I'm working, Seonghwa. I don't have time for games–"

"Games?" His eyes narrow as he moves closer. "Is that what you think this is? A game?"

"What else could it be?"

"My pretty doe," he tsks, shaking his head. "Didn't you hear us speak before? This is no game to us. You are no game to us. You are our rose, my doe. We will never treat you like other humans, because you are not like them. You are ours."

"I am not fucking yours," you hiss, glaring as he stops just a foot in front of you. "You don't scare me. None of you do. So stop telling me that I'm yours and leave me the Hell alone. Find someone else who's willing to bend at your will. Because that person is not me, Seonghwa. And it will never be."

His head tilts as he listens, blinking slowly. "Is that so?"

"It is."

He moves closer now, your bodies inches apart. His hand reaches up, fingers brushing against your skin. It's cold to the touch, but somehow, you feel your skin warming up. Your body trembling beneath his touch. He leans down, smirking.

"You can tell me to move anytime you'd like, my doe."

His lips glide along the skin just below your jaw, breaths cold. His thumb strokes the tender part of your head, just behind your ear. He holds you in place, grip steady. You swallow just as his lips tremble. They press against your vein, tongue oddly warm in comparison to his cold body. Your own hands dig into your jeans, thoughts wild. You could’ve sworn you saw another person pass by. He doesn’t seem to care; his chest is pressed against yours, holding you roughly against the wooden wall behind you. There's no resistance from your side. Instead, your thoughts are filled with things that it should definitely not be filled with. Images of Seonghwa using you as he pleases.

“You smell divine,” he says, pulling his lips away from your skin. His irises dilate, the quick assumption that they’re contacts immediately fleeting from your mind. Panic starts to rise in your chest, but he doesn’t move away from you. Instead, his hands press on either side of your head, eyes steady on yours.

“Don’t be scared. As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.” His lips curve, a sly grin rising. “But I do like it when you’re frightened. It makes it all the more fun.”

"What do you want from me?" You say. His hands drop from you, moving back. Your thoughts are still clouded with him, but much less so than just a moment ago. You curse at yourself. How did you fall for his charms? You would have done anything for him just because his fingers touched you.

"We want you to remember," he says softly. He backs away, nodding to himself. "I came here to confirm that you are her. You look similar to her, but not all at once. Wooyoung wanted to come, but he's a bit preoccupied. So I was chosen to take his place. He isn't happy about it, but he will live."

"Seonghwa."

He turns on his heel, eyes flicking to yours.

"How do you know that I'm the woman you're looking for?"

His smile is subtle as he looks at you. From where you're standing, you can see the woe in his eyes as he loses himself in thought. He clears his throat, looking away. "When I touched you. Humans are often afraid of us. When we touch them, their body tells them that we are a threat. That we will hurt them. Every single human that I have brushed against, by accident or otherwise, has been disgusted by me. But you," he closes his eyes. "You were never afraid of me. Your eyes only looked at me with warmth. The same eyes that now look at me in horror. I yearn for that change, and hope it will be soon. See you later, doe."

He says nothing more, leaving you alone in the aisle.

You stare at the assortment of products in front of you, basket in hand. Several types of garlic products stare back at you. Waiting for you to decide which one you want. You close your eyes for a moment, thinking. This is silly, you say to yourself. There’s a slight chance that they’re allergic to garlic. You doubt the truth of it anyway. If Seonghwa can walk around during the day, not affected by the sun, the chance of this vegetable being fatal to them is slim. Still, you grab a few garlic powders off the shelf, throwing it next to the raw garlic in your basket.

“This won’t help.”

You turn around quickly, eyes flicking over the man that stands next to you. He’s wearing all black, fast hidden with a mask. You can still see his eyes though. A soft brown. He glances in your basket, humming in confirmation.

“Vampires aren’t going to run because you’re mixing garlic into everything you eat. Things like that don’t affect them, no matter how often films tell us otherwise.”

“I just like using it for pasta,” you say, moving a bit away from him. Stupid idea to pretend that you don’t know what he’s talking about. But you don’t have much of a choice. It’s the middle of the night, and there aren't many people in the market. A few elderly aren’t going to help you if this guy turns out to be some creep. Which is very likely, particularly with the mask and hat covering his distinct features.

"The garlic, silver, it doesn't do anything to them. More laughable if anything else," he touches the shelf, a bit of powder smearing his fingertips. "It was a myth started by them to make humans ignorant to what truly hurts them. Smart in a sense. Having humans follow false leads that would eventually lead them to their demise.”

“Sounds interesting. Well, I have to go,” you turn on your heels, moving in the opposite direction.

“Pretending to be oblivious to what I’m saying will just result in a shorter lifespan,” he stands. You stop walking, holding your basket in your hand tightly. He’s right and you know it’s true. But trusting the words of a stranger? You look back, noticing that he hasn’t moved from his spot. It puzzles you; everyone you’ve met seems to want to chase after you. But him? His hands are tucked in his pockets, gaze on yours. He’s giving you a choice; stay and listen, or go.

Not much of a choice, since he’s the only person that seems to know what’s happening with you.

“What do you know about vampires?” You ask, voice hush. You can’t see his lips, but his eyes squint, smiling behind the mask. “And how do you know me?”

“Once Hiraeth has taken a note of you, everyone involved with them knows. It is just how it is,” he shrugs, finally moving from his spot. You hold the basket in front of your body, a makeshift shield as he makes his way to you. “They don’t often bother humans for this long, so there must be something special about you. Perhaps your scent?” He tilts his head, eyes flicking over your body.

You know a bit of why they’re interested in you. Not enough to explain it to anyone, but still. “I don’t care, frankly.”

“Ah, but you should. Knowing their endgame is a way for you to be free of them. Not many who catch the eye of those eight survive to tell the story. The last time they were infatuated with a human was when they were one themselves-“ He stops speaking, gaze moving behind you. “Being alone at night isn’t wise. Here,” he holds out his hand, dropping something into your basket.

You grab it, a small pouch resting between your fingers.

“It is a charm. They will still be able to roam around you, but won’t be able to touch you. It’s important that you keep this on you at all times, even when you’re resting. Do you understand my words?”

“Yes, but-“

“Good,” his eyes flick between yours, thoughts unknown to you. “I cannot stay any longer, unfortunately. We will meet again when time allows it, and I’ll tell you more. It was nice to see you again.” Again? He moves around you, turning down another aisle. You follow his steps, rounding the corner and stop. It’s as if he’s disappeared into thin air, leaving you alone with your now silly basket full of garlic.

You sit it on the side, a light breath falling from your lips. You tuck the small bag of whatever it may be deep into your pocket, grabbing the items you actually need from the basket and walking up to self-checkout. The store is oddly quiet, a few workers here and there far away from where you are. You scan your items quickly, tossing them into a bag and leaving the store. Your home is only a few steps away from the store, but you walk swiftly. Hand gripping the small bag the man just gave you.

Who was he, exactly? He knows you somehow, knows a bit about your relationship – for lack of a better word – with the strange group of men. You’ve learned nothing from his words except that garlic does nothing but make vampires laugh in your face. Well, at least he saved you from a moment of embarrassment. You walk up the steps to your condo, typing in the code and entering the elevator. You let out a sigh of relief as the doors close, until a foot stops them.

“My apologies, this elevator takes a bit too long to get to the fifth floor, and I’d rather not wait for it to come back down.”

“Oh, no problem at all-“ Your eyes flick to the man who just entered, eyes widening. Yunho stands there, hand outstretched to hold it open for the next person. Mingi walks it just as the door begins to shut, leaning against the wall. They wear similar clothing to the man you spoke to in the market, though only black hats covered their hair, masks tucked away.

You try to walk forward but Yunho blocks your path, doors sliding shut.

“Fuck me,” you mutter to yourself, glancing between the both of them. Yunho holds that same small smile on his lips, resting his body against the wall to your left. Mingi sits against the right, eyes on you. He pulls his hat off his head, letting his hair rest in messy waves against his cheeks. You hold the small pouch in your hand tightly, trying to come up with anything that can get you out of this situation. “Not a day goes by when you don’t leave me alone.”

“It’s been, hmm, how many days Mingi?” Yunho looks at the man in front of him. “Ah, I know! Five days since the concert. That’s plenty of time away from us pestering you.”

“What do you want from me?” You ask, fingers almost digging into the pouch. Mingi’s eyes flick to your pockets, before looking at you.

“You were speaking to someone at the market.”

“Am I not allowed to have conversations now?” You retort, frown on your lips. Was that why the man looked over your shoulder, pausing the conversation? You’ve tried not to show your fear around them, and other feelings you’d rather not acknowledge at this point. But this stalking that they’re doing only leaves you on edge. The only thing you can do is watch your back and even that hasn’t been working out well.

“Not with them,” Yunho says, the elevator lurching as it rises. You’re on the top floor, so you’ll be in it for a while. With them. Your luck is only getting worse as time goes by. “They aren’t people you should associate with.”

“I don’t even know him, what makes you think I’ll continue to meet him at random places? Do you believe that I want to be bothered while I’m shopping?”

Mingi snickers. “Even if it wasn’t us, I’m sure someone would’ve stopped you. No one shops for garlic in bulk.”

Your face warms at his words. So much for being off the hook.

“They’re like us, rose. They’re not going to stop bothering you until they have you. It is what we do. Our kind, does.” He moves a bit closer to you, but you press yourself against the wall as much as you can. “I just wanted to smell you.”

You furrow your brows. “Thanks? But I’m pretty positive I showered today.”

“It is not that, yn,” he moves closer, but stops. Mingi glances at the things you’re holding, hands tucked in your pockets, before his eyes flick back up to your face. “He gave you a charm.” Yunho’s smile slips at the words. “And you accepted it.”

“Oh Hell,” Yunho curses, running his fingers through his hair. “Fucking Hell.”

“Why would you accept a charm, yn?” Mingi insists, anger in his eyes. “Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”

“Keep you away from me, that’s for sure.”

“No, you-” He holds back his words, moving to the opposite wall. “That isn’t a protection spell against us. That doesn’t stop us from getting close to you. As you can see,” he waved his hands around. “We’re completely fine being in a confined space with you. That won’t do anything to stop us from touching you if we’d like. That charm that Subin handed you, it’s a gift. From a vampire.”

His words are going over your head, your hands still gripping the pouch. Nothing he has said convinces you that you should let go of it, especially with how angry he is. And they have yet to touch you, so it might be working. But that name… it’s familiar. You just can’t quite recall from where.

“What Mingi is saying is, that little bag he has given you is not a blessing. Charms like that are created to keep track of where humans may be. We give them to ones that we desire so that we cannot lose sight of you, no matter where you are. Subin gave you that charm so that he knows where you are, at all times. It does the opposite of keeping you safe. You have to willingly give it up so we can help you.”

“Help me how?” Your hold on the bag is looser now as you hear his words. What can you believe? The words of a complete stranger, or theirs? From people that are following you, watching you wherever you go? “Why should I believe you?”

Yunho’s hand brushes against your wrist, cold. He doesn’t linger long, enough to prove his point. But your body is still shivering, goosebumps across your skin. It’s oddly gentlemanly despite the circumstances, only touching you as long as he needs to. Your eyes flick to his face, noticing how his eyes are shut, swallowing deeply.

“Now do you understand?” he whispers, lids flicking open to meet yours. His pupils are blown out, gaze still on yours. “It does not affect us.”

“Then why do you look like you’re in pain?”

His lips raise in the corner at your question. “That is not pain, rose. That is the complete opposite.” He moves back from you, eyes still on your pocket. “As long as you have that on you, it will help them keep track of you. As of right now, they know where you reside. It’s unfortunate, but the scent will linger even if you let go of the charm at this very moment.”

“How long?”

“Hm?” his brow raises.

“How long will the scent linger? How long will they know where I am?”

Mingi clears his throat. “At least a month, but it can be more depending on how they created that charm. So it may last from a month to months at a time. Right now you are safe because we are here, but when we leave you will be vulnerable. I apologize for not stepping in sooner when I saw Subin with you,” his words are rough as he says it, shaking his head. “I did not fulfill my duties of protecting you. But I can, now. It’s not something you’ll like-”

“You will not be staying with me.” You say sternly, moving your hands from your pocket. “I’m not letting any of you in my home.”

“Then what would you like us to do? Leave you on your own while someone from their clan comes and takes you away in the night? Perhaps kill you to get back at us? Is that what you desire?” Mingi’s words are harsh, but it isn’t a lie. You know that now. Despite your stubborn nature and the idea of them being anywhere near you while you’re sleeping bothering you, you say the last thing you’d ever say.

“Can I stay with you?” You ask softly, eyes to the floor. “... I didn’t want any of this, you know. This involvement in your lives, whatever it may be. I didn’t want it. I wanted to go back to the bookstore, live a normal, mundane life. So if that dream means staying with you a few months to get back to normal, then…” You hate this. You hate having to rely on people you barely know because you did something stupid. Here you are, gaze moving between two strangers that are entwined in your life, asking for a place to stay.

“We will never say no,” Yunho says, nodding slowly. “We have enough room for you. You’re not an inconvenience I assure you.”

“If this is a scheme of yours, I’ll beat your ass Yunho. You too, Mingi. I don’t care how angry you look at me. Ass will be kicked.”

He chuckles, absence of malice. “I won’t do anything unbecoming to you.”

You nod, explaining to them that you need to pack a few things before going, leaving them outside your door as you gather up belongings. What you don’t notice is the quick look exchanged between them. The odd smile resting on Yunho’s lips.

“It isn’t a lot,” Yunho says, hands tucked in his pockets as he walks up to the home. “But it’s enough for all of us. Each room has its own bathroom, so you wouldn’t have to share with anyone else. And I know it may be unpleasant to live in a house with all men, but we all stick to our own rooms majority of the time. Common areas are cleaned thanks to the service that comes twice a week. I know this situation is not ideal in the slightest, but I can only hope you are comfortable.”

You don’t respond to a word he says, eyes on the building in front of you. Not home, building. It’s the biggest home you’ve ever seen in person. You’re not sure why you expected them to live in a shared apartment - and now that you think about it, a popular band wouldn’t be in a small rat infested place - but this. The home in front of you, vines scaling the walls. Entrance hidden by massive foliage in the front. It’s in the heart of the city but it doesn’t feel like it at all. You hold your small backpack close to your body, chest tightening. You’re one hundred percent in over your head.

“I know this may be overwhelming,” Yunho says, leaving Mingi to walk in first. “So if this brief transition is too much for you to bear on your own, I’m always willing to speak to you about it. The others don’t say it, but I am a great listener.”

“Is that so?” your words are low, barely heard over the windy night.

“It is. I’m not sure which room you’ll pick, but it’ll never be too far for you to speak to me. Are you ready to enter?”

He turns to the door. Without thinking, you grab his shirt, stopping him in his steps. You let go, apologizing quickly. “I just… do the others know I’ll be staying here?”

A sheepish look crosses his face. “Most do. A few don’t, but we will speak to them when you’re a bit settled. It won’t disrupt anything, surely. They won’t be angry at your presence.”

“Who didn’t you tell?”

He says nothing, avoiding your gaze.

“Yunho.”

You see his fist clench and unclench, eyes closed. “You can’t possibly know what that does to me.” his eyes move to you, sliding down to your lips. “Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang. They are the few that don’t know you’ll be staying with us. But as I said before, you’ll be fine. If anything, I’ll make sure of it.” His gaze lingers on you, words silent between the both of you. But your heart only races as he keeps his gaze on you.

You’re not sure if you like the feelings that roll around in your chest when you’re with them. You’re supposed to be afraid, terrified. And here you are, gaze moving away from him.

“I’ll show you your room,” Yunho says, your stride close behind.

"She is here? In our home?" San's eyes flick to the back of the home, nose flared. He sits next to Wooyoung, his eyes shut as he rests against San's thigh. "Why can't I smell her then?"

"Mingi masked her scent. To shield her from Subin he needed to,” Yunho sighs, “Don't give me that look. You know it's the only way to protect her from them."

"There are several ways to protect her, that just so happens to be one of them," Hongjoong holds his cup between his fingers, blowing slightly to cool down the temperature. The others grow silent at Hongjoong’s interruption, knowing that he rarely does unless there's something pertinent to handle. "This isn't how I wanted her to become ours, but it seems like we don't have much of a choice right now. But we all know that the charm cannot wear off in a month. What will be our excuse once that time passes?"

"We convince her to stay," Wooyoung says. "As we always have. Charm her."

"The rose of the sea isn't easily charmed, Wooyoung. We all know that," Yeosang murmurs, leaning against a pillar. "And she doesn't have the same interest in us as she did a few hundred years ago. The others might have gotten to her first–"

"Not completely,' Yunho interrupts. "Despite her wariness she trusts our words. At least trusts them enough to not run away. We've proven that to her we are the solution to her problem with Subin and the others. But we are walking a fine line. She's strong-willed, as she has always been. We can't let any of us slip, not even for a moment. It will break the bond we have."

“What bond is there to break when there’s not one in the first place?” Yeosang raises his brow.

"You lot are quite loud," Jongho walks into the room, tossing his workout bag next to the entrance. He crouches down, slipping on his shoes. "I'll be shocked if she didn't catch wind of your words. These walls are thin." He gets up, throwing his bag against his shoulder. "So I presume that there will be no concert tonight?"

"Oh there will," Hongjoong says softly. "But someone has to stay behind and make sure she doesn't poke her head into anything nefarious. Yeosang–" he looks at him. "You're not playing tonight, correct? Would you be able to keep watch?"

Yeosang’s face twitched slightly, but he nods. "It will be uneventful, so I have no issues with it."

"Perfect. Then we continue on with what we’ve been doing. Feeding after concerts, growing our bond with her. Eventually, she will not want to leave. And we’ll have her once again.” Hongjoong grabs his sticks, tucking them in his pocket. “I’ll see the rest of you there.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Wooyoung says once he leaves, looking at the others left over. “She doesn’t particularly like any of us.”

“She will,” Mingi shrugs, leaving after Hongjoong. The rest pop out one by one, Yeosang and Wooyoung the last. Wooyoung drags himself off the couch, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Take care of our girl.”

Mingi and Yunho left you to explore the room on your own, the door closing behind them. You drop your one bag on the floor, looking around. For a room that doesn’t have an occupant you thought it would be barren. But instead, trinkets and almost historical-looking objects are scattered around the room. Many look too old for you to dare touch. Are they interested in artifacts? Most things on the walls are paintings, maps enclosed in glass. You move close to one of the artworks. It’s a ship, abstract in its outline. It’s intriguing, even if you don’t quite know the parts of it. You continue to roam, a jewelry box sitting on the dresser. Your fingers brush against the wood in front of the jewels. Somehow, you know that it doesn’t belong to any of them. The curiosity of what’s inside swirls in your mind, but you move away from it.

They said this room doesn’t belong to anyone. But as you take it all in, you feel like it does. A part of you is afraid that it’s for you.

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. It couldn’t… it might be. You swallow slowly, sitting on the edge of your bed. You’ve made a rash decision, a panicked one. Staying in the home of people you barely know isn’t something that you do. You can’t even imagine having a one night stand. The idea of even couch-surfing terrifies you. Your hands dig into the comforter beneath you. But there was no choice. Subin, Hanse, and whoever else are after you. You don’t know anyone that could help. So you continue to tell yourself that everything is okay, purposely avoiding the red flags. Well, your parents always told you that you craved adventure. Perhaps this is the first step. You snort, gaze moving to your backpack.

Why the Hell did you think that one bag was okay?

You peek out the bedroom door. The hallways are quiet. The two told you that they had another show tonight and would leave you to your own devices. You planned on walking around and taking note of the exits despite the creepiness of it all. You step out, shutting your door quietly behind you. The hallway is rather large, several rooms across from one another. A quick guess is that the majority of their bedrooms are in this hallway. After another moment of silence, you walk casually around, glancing to make sure they’re gone. No one greets you, so you walk down the hallway. The light from the kitchen shines once you step inside, the room itself probably the size of your whole apartment. You take slow steps, opening the fridge. Surprisingly, food lines the shelves, ingredients staring back at you. The thought of vampires cooking makes you chuckle. Your stomach growls as you stare at the food. After a quick look over, you grab a yogurt and close the door.

“That will be your dinner for tonight?”

You jump, quickly turning around. Yeosang sits at the island, hands folding in front of him. He’s wearing sleepwear, dark blue satin covering most of his skin. There’s a few loose buttons from the top, some of his chest shown. To his left sits a book lying flat on the marble, tabbed. He tilts his head at you, gesturing to the yogurt in your grip.

“We have plenty of food. There’s no need to limit yourself.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Are you sure? Or would you like to mention the sound that I just heard moments ago?” A teasing smile rests on his lips when he sees you frown. “I apologize for not being able to cook anything for you myself, I’m not the greatest when it comes to preparing meals.”

“Neither am I,” you murmur, taking one of the instant soups sitting on the counter and pouring hot water into it from the kettle. “The last time I cooked something for myself I burned my new pot. Had to buy another one.” You’re sure the burnt pot still sits on the top of your cabinets, a reminder of the sins you’ve committed on the stove.

“That’s a new one,” he chuckles, grabbing his book. “Then I’ll be sure to be in the kitchen every time you are.”

You say nothing else, leaning against the counter as you wait for your soup to be ready. Yeosang says nothing either, engrossed in the text in front of him.

“You’re not performing with the others.”

“That’s correct,” he flips the page.

“You’re not babysitting me, are you?” You frown. It wouldn’t make sense for them to let a stranger roam around their home, but it’s not like you need someone watching you. What are you going to do, run? They’d probably find you quicker than it’ll take you to run away.

His brow raises, gaze flicking to yours. “You’re anything but a child, yn. And I’m not the babysitting type. I have a day off from performing today so I’ve stayed home. And I was told as I walked through the door that we have a guest. That’s all,” his eyes moved back to the book. “But from your cooking habits I don’t think I’ll be leaving this kitchen anytime soon.”

“Haha,” you roll your eyes, peeking inside the soup. It’s still not finished yet, but your mouth already waters at the smell. A question still lingers on your mind, one you can’t help but ask. “Why do you have food?”

“We do eat, love,” he shakes his head. “It just doesn’t sustain our lives. It is like…” he thinks for a moment. “Sweets. They won’t help humans live in the long run, but they are a tasty snack every now and then. And I do like it when humans have a bite before we feed." There’s a smile on his face when he thinks about it, eyes moving to yours. “But you, you’re a bit of a strange human. Not that I expect you to be anything less, but still odd.”

“Why?”

“Each time we mention that we drink blood, you’re not terrified. Do you not find that the least bit odd?” He stands, placing his book to the side. You give it a quick glance, Bram Stoker written on the side. He slides over the island with ease, landing on his feet lightly and opening the cabinet in front of you. You try to move to the side to give him room, but he places his hand on the counter to your left, trapping you there. You hold your breath as he opens it above you, bodies barely an inch apart. He grabs whatever he needs, slowly placing it on the counter. Your eyes stay on his, his gaze moving down to look at you.

Your chest rises and falls as he keeps your gaze, his brow quirking. With barely a breath between you, his eyes flick to your lips. He leans forward, lips next to your ear. “Your ramen is going to get soggy if you just stand there, love.” He pulls away, taking the container and walking back to his spot.

Without the support of the counter behind you you’d probably melt into the floor. You turn around, taking the ramen in your hands and placing it on the island. You slowly slide into the seat, his focus back on his reading. You take your chopsticks, slowly eating the soup. He opens his box of crackers, taking a bite as he flips another page.

You eye his outfit, “Do you sleep?”

His lip quirks. “As much as you do.”

“At night?”

“Anytime we’d like. The sun tires us but as does the moon. It doesn’t hurt us but it does slow us down quite a bit. And that’s where sleep comes in.”

“Eating without me?”

You turn to the newcomer, a soft sigh falling from Yeosang’s lips. He doesn’t look up from his book, continuing to read. Wooyoung wraps his arm around his shoulder, a pout on his lips. He’s wearing a similar outfit from when you first saw him; thick, studded choker covering his neck, dark sweater with scattered holes across it, jeans with holes all over. He rolls up his sleeves as he looks at you, head tilted.

“I was going to make you something, rose,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to the soup. “Couldn’t wait?”

“Didn’t know I’d have company,” you say, taking a sip of the broth. “From anyone, not just you.”

“Likewise,” Yeosang says, glaring at Wooyoung’s arm wrapped around him. “You’re supposed to be performing with the rest. Who replaced you?”

“Mingi said he’d take over bass tonight~ Told him I wasn’t feeling well,” Wooyoung giggles. “He wasn’t too happy since he didn’t practice the set, but no one would notice. Most of them don’t even know the songs anyway,” he rolls his eyes, flicking to yours. “Like someone we know.”

You frown, taking another sip of your soup. “Do you ever wish that you could go back in time? Might have refused to go to the club if I had the chance.”

“That’s mean,” Wooyoung shakes his head. “You’d lose the chance of seeing us again. Why would you want to do that?”

“You keep saying that-”

“-Because it is true, love,” Yeosang places his book to the side, resting his head on his folded hands. “You might not believe us, but somewhere in your heart you know it’s the truth. Why continue to deny it? Just because you do not remember your previous life doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen.”

“You say that I’m your Rose,” you start, staring at the bowl in front of you. “But there’s nothing that tells me that I am. You want me to believe it but I can’t. I’m more of a see it to believe it woman. Not the other way around. I can’t just agree to your words because you think they’re true. It doesn’t work that way for me.”

“We can show you,” Yeosang says. Wooyoung’s eyebrows raise but Yeosang waves him off. “It’s… it isn’t something that may be apparent at first. But the memory that I’ll show you will be explicit. I want to have your consent before I give it to you.”

“Explicit…” your gaze flicks between the both of them. Yeosang’s face is unreadable, a worried one on Wooyoung’s. It’s different compared to his previous demeanor, teeth biting his lower lip. “In what way?”

“We’re in the middle of having you. I would… show something else. But that’s the only one that has both Wooyoung and I in it. If that won’t make you believe, I’m not sure anything will. But again, I would like your consent before we reveal it to you. The vision won’t finish until you...” He trails off.

“Yeo…” Wooyoung nudges him. “He told us not to show her anything anymore. She has to believe us on her own. It isn’t… it will make him angry.”

“He’s at the venue. I doubt it will upset him if he doesn’t know about it.”

Wooyoung looks nervous at his words, eyes flicking to yours. As if he’s pleading for you to say no. And you should say no. But of course, curiosity will linger if you don't. If it makes Wooyoung nervous for you to see it, for Hongjoong to be upset… wouldn’t that be beneficial to you? Maybe he will be angry enough to leave you alone, grow to dislike you so that you’re no longer bothered? It has a small chance of working, but you’d take those chances over none. So you nod, standing.

“Let me see the vision.”

Wooyoung waits outside the room, arms crossed against his chest. He doesn’t dare enter, against whatever Yeosang is going to do. Yeosang looks at a jewel sitting on the dresser, touching it lightly. It’s the same one that you looked at a few hours ago.

“This was yours from your father. Back then, you never parted from it. No matter what time or circumstance it was always on your self one way or another. You lost it once, and it was rough for you. You didn’t speak to anyone, only searching for countless hours on every crevice of the ship. You feared that it fell overboard until you found it in one of the mates’ rooms. I’ve never seen you so angry before. You grabbed his shotgun and killed him with it.”

“She killed him over a jewel?”

“You,” he says softly. “You did. Your father died when you were young and he planned on selling it for gold. Of course there were better ways of dealing with circumstances like that, but we didn’t punish you for killing him. It was a betrayal. After that night, Wooyoung and I wanted to comfort you. There wasn’t much that we could do because you were so distraught, so we spent the night with you. And of course, you asked for us to help you forget it for a moment. And we obliged as best we could.”

“It wasn’t the right thing to do,” Wooyoung says from the doorway, arms still resting against his chest. “As I think about it now, I think we should have refused. But that night… It was special. Despite the unfortunate circumstances, we grew closer after that.”

“We loved you, rose,” Yeosang says softly, taking the jewel in his hands. He holds it out to you to touch, hands trembling slightly. “And we still do. If it takes your whole human life, we will do anything for you to adore us as much as we do. You don’t have to touch it if you don’t want to. Take your time to decide.”

Neither of them say anything else, waiting again for your choice. The plan in your head is crumbling at their words. Either their amazing manipulators, or they’re telling the truth. The gem stares at you. It is beautiful that you can tell. And it looks old, a light layer of dust coating it.

“This isn’t you using abilities on me, is it?” You ask, and Yeosang shakes his head.

“We do nothing to manipulate your memories. Everything that you see from back then was true.”

“Do you promise?” It means nothing, but you want to hear it.

“That I do.”

You suck in a breath, your fingers touching the gem.

“Rose, this isn’t a wise plan,” Yeosang says, breathless against your lips. You pull him closer, fingers digging into the loose curls at the base of his neck. “You will regret this, my love.”

“I will never regret being with you, Yeosang,” you say softly, breaking away from his lips. Your gaze moves to Wooyoung standing in the corner of the room. You lift your blouse, corset already fallen to the side. Said man averts his eyes, Yeosang rolling on top of you. He holds himself up, eyes still on yours.

“What a gentleman,” your lips curve into a smirk, lids heavy. “Unfortunate that I’m not looking for anything of the sort tonight. Wooyoung, if you’d be kind,” your eyes move to him again. He takes slow steps to you, his bandana loose against his forehead. He stands at the edge of the bed, nervously glancing at Yeosang. “It might take two to make me forget tonight.”

Yeosang groans, shaking his head slowly. “You are a temptress. Captain will be distraught when he hears that you’ve laid with both of us and not him.”

“Ah, and isn’t that a pity for him? It is his fault that he wasn’t the first man I saw,” you slowly slide your slacks down your legs, both of the men’s gazes following the path. You laugh at their expressions, left in your underwear. Wooyoung lifts his shirt up with ease, his pants gone within the blink of an eye. Yeosang stays in his, although loose against his skin. You reach up to tug it off, but he takes your wandering hand, pressing his lips against the fingertips.

“There is no rush. As long as you want us, you will have us. We have all of the night to please you,” he leans forward, kisses pressed against your neck. They’re light and tender, each touch making your heart speed up. Wooyoung takes this chance to maneuver onto the bed, lifting your body slightly so that he rests beneath you. His hands wander along your body, cupping your breasts. He squeezes, a low moan falling from your lips.

“You always sound so pretty for me,” he murmurs against your head, one hand traveling lower, lingering along the lining of your lace. His large hand dips underneath, cupping you. He wastes no time in dipping a finger between your folds, rubbing your clit. Your body jumps at his touch, Yeosang pulling the rest of the fabric off of you with his teeth. His kisses travel up your leg, landing underneath where Wooyoung slowly rubs. His gaze remains on yours as his tongue dips inside of you, your hands gripping the cotton sheets.

“Fuck,” Wooyoung whispers into your ear, breath shuddering. “I’d bet you’d look so beautiful underneath me. Look at you, we’ve barely touched you and you’re already a mess.”

“Yeosang…” you mumble, hips rocking against his tongue. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you in place as he eats you out. His tongue rolls over Wooyoung’s fingers, a moan vibrating against you. Wooyoung moves lower, two fingers pushed inside you with ease. Your legs tremble against both of them, rutting against their movements.

You let go of the stone, body warm from what you’ve witnessed. Yeosang’s hand is holding yours to steady you. You look into his eyes as he watches you, expression worried. You pull out of his hold, rubbing your face. You feel a light beat where there shouldn’t be right now, gaze unwillingly moving to Wooyoung’s.

“Not an illusion?” You ask, eyes flicking to theirs. They both shake their heads, Yeosang placing the stone back on the shelf. “What does this mean, then?”

“It means,” Wooyoung starts, “That this is the first step to believing in us. We don’t want to manipulate you, yn. That’s the last thing we want. We want you to believe our words to be true.”

“Why? I mean, if past lives are true, why? What’s the point of having me back into yours again?”

“Our reasoning is selfish,” Yeosang says, eyes still on the jewel. “Our departure from our lives with you have haunted us for hundreds of years. Your death was not a peaceful one.”

“That’s enough.” Hongjoong stands at the door, hands tucked in his pockets. The others stand just behind him. You didn’t realize how much time has passed since they’ve left, assuming that it would take longer for them to come back. He walks into the room, eyes on Yeosang. He steps away from the dresser, not meeting Hongjoong’s gaze. Wooyoung has already disappeared from the doorway. “We said we will not mention anything else until all of us are here and ready. How dare you go behind our backs and speak to her?”

“I…”

“You?” Hongjoong moves closer. Despite the slight height difference, Yeosang seems to shrink underneath his “captain’s” gaze. “It seems like you were quite busy while we were gone?” He phrases it like a question. “The rest of you may leave.” The others disappear in an instant, leaving you, Yeosang, and Hongjoong alone. The heaviness of his question settles in you.

“Did you show her the night you spent with her?” Hongjoong asks. Yeosang nods, keeping his eyes to the floor. “That was against the rules.”

“I’m sorry,” Yeosang says softly. “She was curious about the past, but I should have waited until everyone was home so we could speak together. It’s my fault for even suggesting the thought.”

“That it is,” Hongjoong agrees. Yeosang falls to his knees, closing his eyes tightly.

“Do what you must to punish me.”

Hongjoong takes a step forward, but you move from your spot, stepping in front of Yeosang. Your eyes stay on Hongjoong’s, blocking him from view. “You’re not punishing anyone. I wanted to know, this isn’t his fault. If anything, it’s mine.”

Hongjoong watches you silently, gaze eerily still on yours. You feel Yeosang’s head rest against your calf, a shudder breath tickling your skin. His hands touch your ankles, holding himself up from falling flat on the floor. But you remain still, unyielding against Hongjoong. He blinks, eyes flicking down.

“You may leave, Yeosang. I would like to speak to her alone.”

His hold on you stays for a brief second more before he lets go. You hear his get to his feet, another sorry falling from his lips. Yeosang moves around Hongjoong, eyes moving to yours for a brief moment before he leaves the room. You try to catch his gaze as he leaves but Hongjoong steps in your line of sight. He cocks his head, eyes narrowed. Whatever Wooyoung fears of him makes you a bit scared as well. He’s their leader, that you’ve gathered. So you don’t want to get on his bad side. And even with knowing all of that, you can’t help but scoff.

“Oh?” His brow raises at the sound, his eyes flick over your figure. He moves back, hands still tucked in his pockets.

“What’s wrong with you?”

A small smile crosses his lips. “Would you like a list?”

“What were you going to do to him? He looked…” You can still feel his hands trembling against your legs, breaths quick. “Why do they even stay with you when you punish them this way?”

His smile shifts. “You don’t even remember who I am, or how I was. And you haven’t the slightest idea what I was going to do to him. So let’s not assume the worst from me. I am not what you’ve made up in that head of yours. Yeosang has his own issues to sort out on his own. I’d never punish him, I just scolded him.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to. Ask him for yourself if you’d like. But after we speak for a brief moment,” he glances at the open door. “Based on what you’ve seen, do you believe us now?”

You don’t want to entertain him anymore after what you’ve just seen, anger still in your body. But continuing to talk about it will just lead to a moot point. “I don’t know,” you admit, glancing around the room. “If you were in my position would you?”

“Believe eight strangers that tell me they drink blood and I’m their reincarnated lover?” He shrugs, “Perhaps. But they’d have to be convincing enough. I was angry at Yeosang because I wanted you to gradually learn about us, my sea. Giving you all of this information at once will only confuse you more. That is why I didn’t want the two of them showing you that,” his eyes flick to the jewel resting on the shelf. “That does nothing but makes you think that we’re manipulating you. You haven’t the slightest idea about us, and they’re showing you intimate moments?” He sighs softly, shaking his head.

“What do you suggest then?” You ask, foot taking a step back. His eyes flick to your movement, before looking at your face.

“I want you to not be afraid of me.”

“And how will you do that?”

He purses his lips, humming. “Quite a conundrum. You’re already afraid, have been since we’ve met. But I’m not too sure why.”

“Not sure? You scare the others, Hongjoong. Yeosang walked out of here fearfully. And I see how they interact with you. They don’t want to betray your trust so they tiptoe around you. I’ve barely been here and I can see it.”

“There’s a fine line between fear and respect. They do not fear me. They respect my position as the head of this home. What they fear is not me, but what will happen if they break my trust. No one under this roof needs to be afraid when I will not hurt them. I love them all, they’re my family. I would mourn if anything ever happened to any of them. Including you,” he smiles softly. “When we saw you in our club we thought it might be you. But it was possible that you just had the face of our former lover. But when you touched the necklace, we knew then. You were her. You don’t remember what you said back then, but you promised to come back to us. You promised that you would remember. My beautiful sea,” he takes a step to you, matching the ones you take back. Your back hits the wall. You hold your hand out, and he stops right against it. Your hand touches his shirt. He slowly places his hand on top of yours. Oddly, it’s warm.

“You’re not cold,” you utter, eyes widening. He tilts his head.

“Did you expect anything different?” His fingers slowly wrap around yours.

“The others, they’re cold to the touch. But you,” his hand guides yours up his chest, resting against the spot where his heart would be. It beats against your fingers, picking up the pace as your hands linger there. “Your heart beats.”

“Because, my sea, I am not like the others,” his hand drops, but yours stays there as he looks at you. His burgundy pupils soften. “I am a vampire, yes. But I live, breathe. It feels like I’m a human sometimes. I am both grateful and burdened with that fact.”

“How…?”

“I am the first,” he murmurs. “The first of our kind, my love. The first vampire ever created.”

Your hand shakes as you hold it against him still. He watches your face as he speaks. “I was cursed thousands of years ago. Cursed to live this life of constant suffering. I’m able to be injured, able to breathe and feast on normal food. But I am dependent on blood. It keeps me alive in this immoral state. I bleed as do you,” he murmurs, his hand lifting. It rests against the curve of your face, thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. “I just do not grow old. Hundreds of years ago, after losing people that I cared for over and over again, I decided that I shouldn’t be alone. That I needed a family.”

“You … you made the others like this. Like you.”

He nods slowly. “It was a selfish endeavor. Seonghwa was the first. I thought he would be the same as I, I thought that he would be warm-blooded. But he turned, and he was so cold. The flush of his cheeks disappeared, the warmth in his skin. He is still the same fundamentally, but he isn’t like me. The others aren’t like me. They can’t bleed, they aren’t warm. They’re as the stories say. I remained with my humanity when I was cursed so I could suffer everyday. But they had to learn. I had to teach them about humanity again. It was a long process.”

“But they were warm, Hongjoong. On the ship, they were warm. I felt it,” you insist. “I felt it.”

“Yes, you did. That’s because they were, at that time. They were my crew, and we ruled the ocean. We were feared by many. But on that boat was when I decided that they were to be my family. And they agreed.”

“Why would someone agree to a life like this? A life filled with killing humans, drinking their blood? Suffering years of being immortal? This isn’t right…” you shake your head, hand dropping from his chest. “You made them into these things.”

“We are not things. We are humans, just different. An evolution some may call it. But we are not creatures. I did not want to turn them at first, yn. I told Seonghwa about it as a joke, but he wanted it. He wanted to be with me forever. It was a pirate’s dream to live forever, sail the seas and be undefeated. I was so broken then, that I told him yes. I turned the others after him, but saw that they were not like me. It terrified me. But what was worse, was that they were feeding off of the crew members. And killing each one in the process. Soon, all we had left was you.”

It’s as if a rush of cold water just hit you. Hongjoong holds his face in your hand, shaking his head. “Listen-”

“You killed me.”

“yn, listen to my words.”

“All of you, you killed me,” you widen your eyes, grabbing his wrist. You shove his hands shaking your head. “You were so alone that you convinced seven men to be your family, and then you killed me!”

“We didn’t kill you!” His voice rises, but he closes his eyes. “Please. Listen to the rest.”

“What? Did I choose to be in your family too?”

Hongjoong stares at you, swallowing softly. You furrow your brows, waving him off. “I did not choose that, Hongjoong. I know myself. I wouldn’t choose that. No.”

“You chose to become like us because you had no one. You were alone just like I was. Just like we all were.”

“No, Hongjoong.” You hold your head in your hands, shaking it. Images start to appear in your head, things you’ve never experienced before. Flickers of ships, crew members. Blood staining your fingers. “Stop talking.”

“You loved us so much that you didn’t want to part. You agreed to it. You wanted to be with us forever.”

Jongho’s lips covered red, a body in his hands. “Stop talking.”

He takes a step toward you, “We loved you back. We loved you as many stars are there in the sky, and wanted you to be happy. You were so sad, yn. You were always so sad and you wanted that feeling gone. We all thought this was the best route so we tried to turn you but your body rejected it.”

“Please,” your voice is soft, barely audible. Your legs aren’t able to support you anymore, falling to the floor. Hongjoong catches you just before, holding you steady in his arms. “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

He hums a tune to you, holding you close to his body. The warmth you felt before is overwhelming now, your body getting hot as he keeps you against him. You push, hard, against his hold. He doesn’t expect it, your body falling to the floor as you try to get away. He reaches, but you stop him, shaking your head.

Your gaze meets his, a pirate uniform staring back at you. Blood stains his white linen shirt as he stares down at you, hat thrown to the ship floors. The others stand behind him, their attire similar to his. He looks at you with concern, but you’re gasping, hands shaking as you stare at them. Red. Red between the nails, dripping onto the wood below. Flashes of red over and over again in your head. Screams echoing just behind it.

“I killed them,” you say through sobs, body trembling. “They were screaming and I killed them, Joong.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just take a breath Sea-”

“They were begging for their lives and I killed them!” You yell, desperately wiping your hands against the wooden boards. “I’m a killer. I’ve hurt innocent people. I won’t ever be forgiven. I can’t. I can’t be forgiven.” Your words begin to mix, thoughts taking over instead. You feel a cool hand touch your thigh and you jump back, turning to look at them.

Seonghwa looks down at you, wet streaks on his face. “You are not a murderer.”

“I can’t… I can’t…” you cry out, your hand covered in splinters with the way you’re dragging it across the wood. But it doesn’t hurt in the slightest, only frightening you more. “I’m a monster.”

“I’m a monster,” you say softly. Hongjoong’s eyes widened. Shock crosses his features as he looks at you. He looks worried, panicked. The most emotion you’ve ever seen out of him since you’ve arrived. “Am I a monster?” You don’t know if you’re asking him or yourself, your eyes glued to your hands. Your mind flickers between your unsoiled palms to the ones painted red.

“No. Look at me yn, please,” Hongjoong doesn’t dare to touch you, keeping his distance. You look at him, eyes welling up with tears. “You are not a monster, you never were. We made a mistake, making you into one of us. We didn’t know how it would affect you and we’re sorry that we even attempted it on you. It was selfish. I was selfish, alright?”

You close your eyes as you listen to his words, desperate to separate a past memory from your reality. That woman wasn’t you. Sure, it was a life that your soul has lived centuries ago, but you are you now, not from before. You repeat these words over and over again, slowly pushing that memory away. Soon enough, it’s only a small echo in the back of your mind. You open your eyes again, gaze moving to your hands. The blood is gone now, your clear skin staring back at you.

“yn-”

“Can you leave me alone?” Your voice is hushed, unable to meet Hongjoong’s gaze. “Please, just give me time alone.”

“Okay.” You can see from the corner of your eyes him standing, leaving something behind as he exits the room. He closes the door, locking it behind him. Your breath shudders once you’re left alone. You touch your cheek, fingers trembling as you wipe the tears away. It was you. Despite everything, despite your reluctance, that was you. It wasn’t you, but it also was. Their words are true. Even though you from then and now are two completely different people, you felt everything that she did long ago. Felt how that coldness washed over you, how you weren’t yourself anymore. You don’t want to feel that ever again.

TAGS: @whatudowhennooneseesyou @glitterhongjoong @marievllr-abg @jenniiee-tm @atzcoke @honeyedtalisman @hongshines @atinytease

#fic: claire de lune #ot8 x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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