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seonghwaddict · 2 months

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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez #ateez x reader #song mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi reactions #mingi imagines #mingi smut #mingi fluff #mingi angst #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez smut

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cloudcountry · 1 year

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1.5K FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

SUMMARY: The Octatrio takes you to the ocean, where you explore a shipwreck with them!!

WARNINGS: Jade & Floyd being slightly threatening? They imply that they'll drown you lol sillies.

COMMENTS: i had this in the works for like a week and i really like how it turned out!! (i'm especially fond of the floyd parts hehe) THERES ALSO SOME DEUCE CONTENT BC I COULDNT HELP MYSELF but thats only in the beginning wahhwawah ANYWAYS i hope ygys like this one!!!!!!!! im excited to hear what you all think!!!!!!!!

You slowly unfasten your arms from around Deuce’s waist as the blastcycle skids to a stop. Vehicles in Twisted Wonderland are still incredibly hard to get used to, even though you’ve been here for longer than you want to think about.

“Thanks for the ride.” you lean back, swinging your legs over the side with a smile, “I appreciate it.”

“Ah…no problem.” Deuce replies, eyes darting from the seemingly empty shoreline to you, “Just…if anything happens, call me. Okay?”

You sigh, touched by his concern. Lifting your hand, you extend your pinkie to him. He wraps his pinkie around yours, and when you whisper that you promise, he nods and lets you go.

“Thank you,” Deuce whispers.

It’s nice having people who want to protect you.

He drives off and you wave, even though his back is turned to you and it wouldn’t be safe for him to wave back. Once the roaring engine has faded completely, you turn your attention to the beach. There’s a set of wooden stairs leading down to the bay, and you take them down. The sand feels warm and inviting, and you kick your shoes off without a second thought. It’s odd, your three companions should be here by now, but you don’t question it too much. Those three do what they want when they want to, and there’s no telling what they decided to do today.

You spend a few minutes swiping at the sand, collecting a small pile of pretty shells. It’s a modest collection, nothing to write home about, but the childish act alone fills you with a glee you haven’t felt in quite a long time.

Perhaps Azul was right. A trip to the sea really might be all you need.

“Hello, angelfish.” a familiar voice croons from behind you.

You turn and barely manage to contain your surprise when you see Azul in casual shorts and a shirt. Although it’s plenty warm outside, the mental image you have of him always wears a suit. It’s a nice change.

“Hello, Azul.” you smile, and take the hand he extends to you.

A kiss that burns hotter than the sun is pressed to the back of your hand. Your arms fall back to your side far too soon.

“I do hope you’ll enjoy this little trip I’ve planned.” he muses, turning his attention to the water, “There’s a shipwreck a little ways from here that Floyd and Jade wanted to explore, you see. Bad things happen when I don’t indulge those two.”

Something tells you that you are also part of that indulgence.

“Where are they?” you ask, scanning the wide expanse of golden sand, “I didn’t see them when I arrived.”

“Ah…” Azul winces and shakes his head, pointing a single finger toward the water.

You turn just in time to see two pairs of glowing eyes peeking up from the water. They’re gone in an instant, and if it wasn’t for Azul’s uneasiness you would have thought you imagined it.

“They’re very sneaky, aren’t they?” you murmur.

Azul nods.

You shake your head, mimicking Azul’s earlier actions. Except you decide to take the route the three of them probably wouldn’t expect.

And so you start walking towards the water.

Azul sucks in air through his teeth and grabs your arm as if warning you not to go.

“It’ll be fine.” you turn back to him and pat his hand, offering him the most reassuring smile you can manage, “If Floyd gets a little too rambunctious and forgets that I can’t breathe underwater, I’ll have you to stop them.”

Azul hesitates but lets you go. He does follow you though, which is rather endearing.

It’s nice having people who want to protect you.

Once you reach the water, you start to sink into the sand. You keep walking until it’s reached your knees. There isn’t any sign of them, but you’re sure Floyd will ambush you sooner or later. You start moving again, eventually wading into the deeper part of the shoreline. Azul watches you apprehensively.

Something brushes your foot.

You can’t help but jerk, but the ticklish sensation makes you laugh.

Someone pinches your thigh, and you swat at them.

There’s a swarm of bubbles that surrounds you, and for a second you swear you can see a tail flick out of the water before a giant merman jumps out of the water and body slams you into the waves.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd cheers, squashing your faces together and splashing salt water everywhere.

“Hi, Floyd.” you giggle as he digs his webbed fingers into your sides.

“My my. No greeting for me?” Jade pouts, resting his chin on your other shoulder, “You’re so heartless, Pearl.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance!” you laugh, running your fingers through their hair, “Hello, Jade. I’m very happy to see the two of you.”

“Will you two be more gentle with them!?” Azul hollers, a sour look on his face, “They haven’t taken the potion yet, so you should be cautious!”

Floyd sinks into the water and blows annoyed bubbles. Jade just smiles serenely, making no move to leave your side. Azul groans loudly, exasperated.

“Azul, it’s okay.” you call, slowly making your way towards the shoreline with two mermen in tow, “If I didn’t want them here, I wouldn’t have come into the water.”

“Well, there you have it.” Jade smiles triumphantly, wrapping his tail around your leg, “The Little Pearl doesn’t mind one bit, do they Floyd?”

“Yeah, Jade. They don’t mind at all.” Floyd grins menacingly, wrapping his tail around your other leg.

“Guys, I need those.” you remind them gently, and they begrudgingly let you go.

It’s funny how they listen to you and not the man they call boss (who is still fuming on the shoreline.)

You clamber out of the water with the grace of a crab as Jade and Floyd continue to pinch at your legs. You’re only safe when Azul catches you in his arms, lips pursed and hair tousled from the wind.

“What’s this potion I’m supposed to take?” you ask, paying no mind to the splash of water that hits you in the shins.

“Ah. It’s a water breathing potion.” Azul hums, clearly proud of himself, “I brewed it myself, so rest assured, it will work. The potion allows you to breathe and see underwater with minimal difficulty. Your payment for the potion will be assisting us in collecting artifacts and such from the shipwreck I mentioned previously.”

You have a feeling that all that meant was your payment is spending time with us.

You suppose they are rather lonely, with their reputations and all. Azul especially, with that sensitive heart of his.

“Okay,” you say softly, following him as he leads you to a neat row of duffel bags. He leans down and unzips the one with a cute little octopus charm and produces a purple glass bottle. The cork is shaped like a clam shell, and you marvel at how pretty of a bottle it is for only a few seconds before you look at Azul.

The sea is dangerous, you remind yourself. But these three will protect you.

“Now, I will not be joining you.” Azul declares, taking out a book from the same duffel bag, “So you may go with Jade and Floyd.”

He plops down in the sand, opens the book, and ends the conversation.

What?

You must have stood there for far too long because Azul looks up at you over the rim of his glasses as if you’re the one doing something weird.

“Come on Azul!” Floyd yells from the sea, “Shrimpy doesn’t care!”

“Indeed. And you were so excited about this trip, too. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to come.” Jade sighs, shaking his head in disappointment, “There’s nothing to be done about it, I suppose. It looks like we’ll be getting the pretty little pearl all to ourselves, won’t we, Floyd?”

“Oooh, yeah!” Floyd beams, tongue flicking out between his sharp teeth, “All to ourselves, Jade.”

You see Azul’s eyebrow twitch.

Floyd groans, seemingly annoyed at Azul’s lack of reaction, and shifts his targeted jeers to you.

“Shrimpy! I can tell you why Azul doesn’t want to go!” Floyd yells, flailing his arms around, “He doesn’t want you to see his merform! He’s super squishy and slow!”

“Now, now. That’s rude, Floyd.” Jade chastises his brother, but his smile lets you know that he’s getting a kick out of this too.

“Well, that’s a good thing, right?” you turn back to look at Azul and kneel next to him, “I won’t be a fast swimmer either, Azul. Not as fast as Jade or Floyd. It’d be nice to hang back with someone.”

Azul says nothing.

You block out Floyd’s jeering and focus on him.

“Hey.” you whisper, “If you want to come along, you can. Don’t let me stop you. I promise I won’t judge how you look, hell I won’t even look at you if you don’t want me to. But I’d really like it if you came—”

“That is out of the question.” Azul says curtly, pushing his glasses up his nose.

You hesitate, debating if leaving him here would make him more comfortable.

Except you know Azul. And you know if he doesn’t join you three on this trip, he’ll regret it.

“Listen, Azul.” you murmur, keeping your tone gentle and firm, “I want to go with you. It won’t be the same without you. So if you want to come, you should. I don’t want to leave without you.”

Azul hesitates, and you know you’re getting through to him.

“So come on!” you place a hand on his shoulder and smile reassuringly, “It wouldn’t be fun without you. Who else is going to teach me about all the different coins you can find?”

“Gahh, fine!” Azul snaps his book shut and tucks it back into his duffel bag, hands shaking, “You run a hard bargain, my dear.”

You laugh, and your heart feels light. You lead Azul to the water and turn away as he prepares to transform. You hear a soft splash and you pop the cork off the pretty glass bottle. Tipping it back, the contents spill past your lips and down your throat. Not wanting to be messy, You place the cork back on and put the bottle on a nearby rock. A slimy hand reaches for you, and you turn to see Jade smiling up at you. Floyd is a little ways away, bouncing around in the water like he can’t wait for you to enter.

Azul is nowhere to be seen, but that’s okay. You can only hope he’ll feel more comfortable as the trip goes on.

”Come on, Shrimpy!” Floyd yells, and that's all the encouragement you need to take Jade's hands and let him drag you into the water.

And he coaxes you into the smooth waves, just like a siren. His eyes certainly glow like he’s hypnotizing you, but you’re certain his beauty is enough to have the same effect.

Once your head is submerged, you open your eyes. Instead of the sharp pain you expect to feel from opening your eyes in the salty water, you’re able to see clearly. Jade’s still holding your hand as he drags you deeper, tail swishing as he darts around coral. You try your best to follow him as you cut through the water, and you know if it wasn’t for the care he puts into making sure you’re not getting scraped on the rough outcrops of coral, you surely would have been injured already.

Floyd swims down from up above and snatches you from his brother in the blink of an eye. You’re pressed into a slick, pale chest as Floyd bears his teeth playfully, swimming farther up.

“No fair, hogging Shrimpy all to yourself.” Floyd grumbles, clutching you against him like a prized catch.

“Now, now. No need to get aggressive.” Jade hums, swimming up to meet Floyd, “They were very much enjoying themselves with me, weren’t you?”

You’re saved from the growing conflict between the brothers by Azul, who pokes his head out from a small cavern in the coral.

“Our goal is to get to the shipwreck, not mess around.” Azul chastises him, and you marvel at the parts of him you can see (which just so happens to be his face and the upper part of his chest.)

He really is beautiful.

“Yes, boss.” Floyd smiles lazily, flicking his tail at him before swimming off with you in tow.

Jade smiles but says nothing as he follows after his brother, who decides to take a small detour. He spins you around a coral spire as if he’s dancing, holding your hands as you spin. His grin is toothy and wide, and his laughter rings clear even in the water, eyes shimmering as if reflecting the sun. He twirls you around like a dancer, and the water fans around you like a costume. It makes you feel like a performer, gorgeous and renowned, and you find yourself grateful for Floyd’s adventurous spirit.

“You see that, Shrimpy?” Floyd giggles, halting mid-dance to swim closer to the coral reef, “It’s you!”

You swim a bit closer, using Floyd’s hand as an anchor to keep yourself close to him. There’s a small shrimpy fluttering through the crevices, skittering across the coral-like an underwater insect.

“Do I really look like that to you?” you tease, shooting Floyd a doubtful look.

“Sure ya do! You’re tiny and you scitter around and you’d probably taste really yummy.” he teases.

He bites just beside your ear and you swat at him. Floyd laughs and swims circles around you, jabbing you with his hands and poking you with his tail. He’s more touchy than usual, you think, and it makes you want to hold him too.

The next time he circles you, you latch onto his tail. Floyd shrieks and flings his you through the water, shooting you towards the coral reef with his pure strength.

“Only shrimps this tall get to ride for free!” He holds his hand up just a few centimeters taller than you and sticks his tongue out.

“Only eels this tall get to receive hugs from shrimpies.” you say, holding your hand just a bit higher than him.

Floyd swims upward and bonks into your hand, looking very proud of himself. You hug him as he takes you the rest of the way to the shipwreck.

It’s a towering thing, made almost entirely of wood. There’s a gaping hole in one of the sides, and you assume that’s how it sank. Floyd giggles and you realize your mouth is gaping in shock. You slam it shut, embarrassed.

Jade and Azul are already examining items they found in the sand, Jade swishing around in the open water while Azul hides most of his body in another crevice. There’s a small treasure chest by Jade’s tail, full of coins and what looks like paper—?

You’ll have to ask them about that.

“It certainly took you long enough.” Jade chuckles.

Azul acknowledges you two with a curt nod as he sorts through coins that look older than Trein. He’s far too deep in his element to engage in pleasantries, you think.

“Floyd, I found some well preserved musical records.” Azul says mildly, handing Floyd a book that seems completely dry without sparing him a glance.

Floyd positively lights up and tears the book out of Azul’s hands, flipping through the pages that are indeed dry.

“Old merfolk spells.” Jade explains, smiling at your surprised expression, “We find paper books fascinating, you see. If the pages are protected by leather and metals they last underwater for quite a bit of time. We had to preserve them somehow.”

“That is fascinating.” you breathe, and Jade chuckles.

He grabs your hand and you turn to him questioningly. He gestures towards the large ship, towering over your little group. You gape at the structure again, and Jade laughs at your facial expression. The hole in the side of the ship looks just big enough for someone to enter it, and you find yourself wondering how it got there again.

Now that you think about it, the hole could have been made after the ship sank.

“Shall we?’ Jade murmurs, pressing a guiding hand to your lower back.

You let him lead you into the shipwreck, but he doesn’t allow you to enter until he’s checked the floor you’re on thoroughly.

“It’s all clear, my pearl.” he offers you his hand again, and you take it.

The second you’re inside, you break free from Jade’s grasp and swim around the room. There’s a collection of silverware in a rickety old cabinet. There’s an old chest that’s cracked open, and you can see scraps of paper peeking out from their age-old prison, suspended in the water. There’s an armchair with an intricately woven cushion, one of its armrests broken off.

Jade watches as you dart around the room, silently following you as you glance from item to item. You know he must think it’s amusing that you can be so enraptured by your own kind. He can’t blame you, though. Humans have always fascinated him, and you’re well aware he’s aware of you indulging him on many occasions.

Many people would be frightened if Jade Leech examined them so closely. You are not one of those people.

“Jade.” you whisper, swimming over to him with curiosity in your eyes, “Is this an old terrarium?”

Oh, you can tell that piques his interest. You point to a dark corner of the ship to a small table and a tiny, house-like structure. It’s made of some type of fibrous material, and two glass panes extend diagonally from the rectangular base. Jade swims over, gently taking the structure in his hands and peeking inside. His sharpened teeth glint in the slivers of sunlight as he beams, cradling the discovery as though it was worth more than all the gold Azul was sorting outside.

“Yes, it is.” he murmurs, voice soft as he coaxes you forward, “Humans didn’t care so much about how pretty terrariums were as long as they were functional. I’ve heard many merpeople talk about how boring these terrariums in particular are as a result of their lack of stained glass, but I can’t help but find this style charming.”

“Sometimes being functional is better.” you agree.

Jade gazes upon you with a softness he does not normally display. It makes your heart take a little tumble in your chest.

Jade opts to take the terrarium with him, and the two of you bounce ideas of what to put in the container back and forth. At one point you bring up taking some coral and sea floor rocks for decor, and Jade perks up like you’ve just reinvented the world of terrariums.

“I’ve been so fascinated by your world that I forgot about the beauties of mine.” he murmurs, lifting a silver knife to examine it, “Say, what do you think about using this knife as a plant marker?”

“You could carve the name of the plant in the handle.” you muse, and Jade nods with a wide smile.

“You have a fascinating mind.” he places a hand on your head, scratching gently at your scalp, “It makes me want to explore you, too.”

You feel your face grow warm in the chilly water.

With your suggestion in mind, Jade begins collecting the various plates and silverware he can find, debating how he can use each bit of his treasures. You watch him for a while as he darts around, storing the items you used every day in his terrarium as though it was a precious treasure chest.

“Isn’t there a story about how the mermaid princess believed that a fork was a comb?” you ask as he picks up a golden fork, “I think Floyd told me that one.”

“So he does pay attention.” Jade chuckles, turning his gaze to you, “Yes, indeed. She was so excited upon seeing one at the prince’s dinner table that she snatched it right up and began vigorously brushing her hair. As you can imagine, the prince was very confused.”

“That would have hurt her scalp pretty bad.” you murmur, furrowing your brow, “But she had the right idea, I suppose.”

Jade laughs, and you feel proud that you were the cause.

“Jaaaade!” Floyd pokes his head in and beams when he sees you, “Have you gone down to the bottom floor yet? Azul says there's a lot of fun stuff down there.”

“I haven’t.” Jade says mildly, “We’ve been having a grand time up here, you see. I daresay I got a bit distracted.”

Floyd sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry, but with the unparalleled length of his tongue, it looks incredibly odd. You barely manage to stifle a laugh, and Floyd beams as though he’s just won a prize.

“C’mon, Shrimpy!” Floyd cackles, darting forward and snatching you up into his arms, “Let’s go explore!”

You’re surprised when Jade follows the two of you down to the deeper levels of the shipwreck. You expected him to continue perusing the selection of silverware, but instead he clutches his terrarium in his arms and swims after you and his brothers. Floyd’s chattering away about how you aren’t going to believe what’s on the lower deck and how it’d shock your poor shrimpy heart to death if you were alone. He giggles and wraps himself around you, covering your eyes as he leads you into an open space.

“Look, Shrimpy.” Floyd murmurs right next to your ear, peeling his hands away from your face, “Look at all those weapons.”

Floyd’s not wrong, this would be a rather creepy sight if you were alone. There are two long rows of cannons, each one covered in seaweed and coated in a strange green film. The seaweed reaches out for you in the water, almost as if they’re composed of dead souls that yearn for vengeance. Jade swims out into the room and swats away the seaweed as it clings to his tail. Floyd leads you after his brother and giggles when you shy away from the plant, hating the way it feels against your skin.

“Shying away from a little seaweed, Shrimpy?” Floyd hisses, playfully swatting at the tendrils that reach out to you, “Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine.”

You’re relieved when you reach the end of the hallway.

Jade carefully examines a wad of mud that bulges from the opening of a nearby cannon, sediments peeking out from the sludge. Floyd busies himself with darting up and down the aisle, laughing and flipping around in the water. You let him drag him with you, and slowly get used to the texture of the rough seaweed clinging to your legs. Floyd twirls you dramatically and dips you, proclaiming loudly that dancers always do this in those silly little human movies, taking the opportunity to snap at your ear again.

He seems amused when you still don’t flinch.

“Floyd, don’t tease them.” Jade calls, a devious grin on his face, “We wouldn’t want them getting cold feet now.”

“I dunno, Jade. I think their feet are already pretty cold.” Floyd giggles, poking the bottom of your foot with the edge of his tail, “Cold as ice.”

Your toes flex at the ticklish sensations. They certainly do like finding all your weak spots, don’t they?

“We should warm them up, don’t you think?” Jade quips, tilting his head innocently.

“Maybe we shouuuuuld.” Floyd hisses, running his claws down the length of your arm.

They must see how your face twitches because they laugh and close in on you. What teases they are, whispering things to you like that. Just when it seems like they’re going to give you one of their famous squeezes, they stop.

“C’mon, Shrimpy. Let’s get you back up to the surface.” Floyd snatches up your wrist and yanks you so hard you’re certain he almost popped your arm from its socket.

Jade grabs your other hand, much more gently, and curls his fingers through the gaps in yours. You let them pull you upwards, powerful tails cutting through the water and they propel you up and out of the structure. Azul is nowhere to be found, and you must look confused at his absence because Jade squeezes your hand. You turn to him and he offers you a calm smile.

“Don’t worry, Azul is back on land. He’s had his fill of being seen for today.”

He doesn’t want you to see him in that form more than you already have.

“That’s okay.” you murmur, “He’s done more than enough already. I’m proud of him.”

“I’m certain he’ll appreciate the understanding.” Jade smiles his closed-eyed smile and nods.

The trip back is full of the same coral reefs, the same tails twining between your legs and curling around your waist, the same laughter from Floyd and quips from Jade. There’s a bittersweet feeling that wells up in your chest as you reach the shoreline again, knowing you likely won’t be back here for quite a while. Despite the rumors that the students of NRC spun about the Leech brothers, they weren’t nearly as dastardly as they usually were. You wonder if it has something to do with the joy of exploring a ship, of being in their element, of being able to talk about things they like.

“If you two want to talk about the things you like, I’d be happy to listen.” you say.

The Leech brothers share a look, one that seems as though they’re communicating without words. They turn back to you and smile, Jade’s grin is far less toothy than Floyd’s but just as happy.

“Keep talking like that and we’ll have to drag you down into the depths and keep you to ourselves.” Jade murmurs, eyes flashing, “Won’t we, Floyd?”

“Ohhh, yeah.” Floyd giggles, “Jade’s right. Who knows what’ll happen, hmm?”

Nevermind.

You laugh and shake your head, to which Jade chuckles.

Your head bursts from the water and you stumble onto the warm sand, where you see Azul sitting in front of three treasure chests. His brow is furrowed as he hunches over the coins, sorting them by year. You decide to sit beside him as the Leech brothers continue to swim. At some point, you hear Floyd slam his entire body into the water, and shriek as Jade slams into the water and pushes an even bigger wave back at him.

“Did you have fun today?” you whisper to Azul.

“I did, yes. I haven’t gotten the chance to explore a shipwreck since enrolling in NRC.” he pushes his glasses up his nose, and they make a soft clicking noise, “I found many more coins for my collection. I’m pleased.”

“I’m glad.” you say, and you don’t say anything else because there’s no need.

You do, however, find yourself splashing back into the water when Floyd calls your name a little while later.

You’re glad you came.

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disneyprincemuke · 4 months

Text

ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

you and charles stare at one another, eyes wide as you freeze in your respective spots of the kitchen: you with a whisk in hand and him with a bowl and an egg.

“what did you just say?” charles asks slowly, afraid to move any muscle in his body. maybe if he stayed this still, he could go back to 30 seconds ago when you hadn’t said what you said.

you tilt your head to the side and furrow your eyebrows. “did i say something?”

knowing damn well you did. he had been threatening to hurl the raw egg at you when you started rambling and listing out reasons why he should not. in a fit of pleads, the first reason you had come up with is: ‘because i love you’. which, in hindsight, is a pretty damning reason not to throw a raw egg at your head.

but with the way charles has reacted to your statement, it seems like that that is not the route you should have taken. you should have said something along the lines of you being best friends; it’s also a good reason not to throw an egg across the room.

“you said something.”

“i really don’t recall.”

charles moves his head back a little, blinking rapidly at you. “i’m pretty sure you said that–“

“okay, okay!” you cry, putting the whisk down on the island of his kitchen. “i did! i said what i said. but i don’t know why i said that!”

you would think that being friends half your life would give you a pass to say ‘i love you’. apparently not. charles still stands where he is with his bowl and egg, gaping wordlessly at you out of shock.

perhaps saying ‘i love you’ to one of your longest friends isn’t acceptable when your feelings reflect the phrase in a way you haven’t been able to understand your whole life. or just maybe it’s absurd to say when he’s got a girlfriend — a girlfriend sleeping in a bedroom not further than 20 metres from both of you.

feelings that have festered and developed since you were 17; that you cannot act on because charles has not gone long enough without a girlfriend for you to make a move on him and feel morally right about it. just when you think that enough time has passed after his breakup, charles comes forward to introduce you to a new girlfriend — one that he’s picked up while trying to collect himself somewhere far from home.

“you do not know why you said that? you just say things without thinking?” charles asks in a hushed whisper, looking over his shoulder to where the room door is closed. “seriously?”

“yes!” you shriek in disbelief. it’s not too long ago that you’ve had to bear the consequence of your running mouth. “remember when i said that george looks cute? in front of his girlfriend?”

charles smiles slightly, giggling softly at the memory. “ah, she didn’t talk to you for how long?”

“3. up to now, she does not want to answer my messages,” you grin slightly, though there’s a bitter taste if your mouth at the fact that carmen is still ignoring you. but that’s besides the point. “quite sad. i miss her.”

“oh my gosh,” charles says, puts the egg into the bowl and puts it down on the table. “you…” he blinks. “you… have feelings for me?”

it’s your turn to gape wordlessly at him. there could be 2 ways this situation goes: he would be appalled and… you can’t even imagine it going your way.

it was one thing to spend the past couple of years pining and hopelessly thinking of being together with a friend, but it’s another to admit it outright and not be embarrassed about it. what if he asks you when you started feeling like this? how are you supposed to explain that you’ve had feelings for him since you were 17? that was almost ten years ago.

“what? no,” you scoff, furrowing your eyebrows. “why would you even think that?”

“why are you asking me that? you literally said it?” charles asks, putting a hand up, directed at you in disbelief.

“you were gonna throw an egg at me!” you scoff, pointing at the egg.

“yeah, but you wouldn’t have said it if you weren’t thinking it,” he rolls his eyes, “you have feelings for me?”

you blink blankly at him with your palm now against the marble of the island. “no, you must have misinterpreted it.” you laugh nervously, clutching your stomach and then looking away to avoid his judgemental gaze. “i mean it in a friendly way.”

“a friendly way?” he scoffs back at you. “what does that even mean?”

you take a breath. there is only so many ways you can try and steer the conversation away from what you’ve just said.

“like… we’ve been friends for 11 years! i’m sure i can say ‘i love you’ platonically, right?” you look into his eyes, anticipating and wishing that he will eventually buy your lie.

because realistically, you would rather have and keep him as a friend than lose him entirely.

you watch as he takes steady breaths, looking at you with hesitation clearly written in his eyes. “it doesn’t mean anything, charles. don’t overthink it.”

but you would pray to god that he would overthink it. maybe then he will realise that he also has feelings for you, or that he’s had feelings for you all along. maybe he will finally see that you’ve been here all along instead of putting him through the torment of another failed relationship?

but you watch as the gears turn in his head. his gaze softens as a more genuine smile stretches his lips. “oh, okay,” he laughs airily, picking up his bowl. “for a moment there… you had me!”

you laugh with him, scowling slightly as you turn away from him. “yeah, i got you there.”

“you scared me — i always told carlos he was wrong about the way he claims you would look at me,” charles laughs, appearing by your side. he beams at you when you turn to him before briefly walking away. “you’d never like me like that anyway. you’re too good for me.”

it feels like he’s thrown a knife that went directly straight through your heart. it’s also another type of pain to hear that from the guy you’ve been wishing for.

and while you’ve gone out there, explored choices and let yourself be with other guys, there’s simply nobody as good as charles in your eyes.

it’s almost to the point where it’s pathetic.

you laugh. “i guess.”

“besides, i think we’re better off friends. don’t you think so?”

you clench your jaw, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “of course. i’d never date you.”

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke isily

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angelicyoongie · 11 months

Text

The Obsidian Pearl (I)

— pairing: mermaid seokjin x (f) reader — word count: 7.2k — warnings: yandere, descriptions of death/blood/violence — summary: Sailing through The Dead Man’s Passage is a death sentence and the whole crew knows it. But with the ship’s stocks dwindling fast, your captain is left with no other choice. When a haunting melody makes the crew jump ship one by one, you find yourself alone with the demon lurking in the murky red water. As the creature beckons you to jump into the icy ocean – “come to me, pet” – you find that you can’t do anything but obey.

Part 01 - 02

"Captain, this is a bad idea."

A hush falls over the deck, a few whispers being passed back and forth between the crew as they watch you challenge the captain's decision. There's an audible gulp somewhere behind you as the captain pins you with a hard gaze, his jaw clenched tight with annoyance.

He taps the map that's spread out in front of him, voice leaving no room for argument as he says, "This is the fastest route."

"That may be, Captain, but it's not worth the risk. Haven't you heard the stories? The numerous crews that have gone missing after sailing in this area? There's a reason it's called The Dead Man's passage!”

A ripple of murmurs flow through the crowd at the reminder, the passage's deadly reputation making it somewhat of a ghost story – a tale every seafarer hears at one point or another. You don't know much; the few crews that have managed the journey safely have been tight-lipped about their experience, their eyes left haunted. The part that has always baffled you the most about the stories is that the ships themselves always make it through the passage, fully intact and filled with loot, but their crews never do. It's like they all vanish without a trace, like they've just been whisked away by the wind – never to be seen again.

The captain clears his throat, a sharp sound that cuts through the growing voices on deck, silencing them immediately.

"We have no choice. If we continue on the intended route we'll run out of food and fresh water a week before we reach the nearest port. Cutting through the passage will save us valuable time. I would never take this risk and endanger the crew if someone had done their job properly."

You glance to the side, catching the eye of the cowering boatswain.

He's young, far too young to handle such responsibility on his own. He's only just grown into his ears, the top of his head barely reaching the captain's shoulders. He was thrust into the position much too soon, but it couldn't be helped. The previous boatswain suddenly succumbed to an infected wound just a few days before you were scheduled to leave the last port. It left all of you scrambling to pick up the slack around the ship and the poor lad must've been forgotten in the mess.

You had tried to delegate someone to help him, but the captain had been firm that he needed to do it on his own, to build character. It's no wonder he wasn't able to calculate the needed supplies correctly, not when he was still grieving the loss of his mentor at the same time.

You notice the bead of sweat that rolls down the side of the young boatswain's face, his skin flushed with nerves. You can't let the poor lad be punished for his sorrow, not when this whole predicament could've been avoided.

Letting out a small sigh, you lower your head in apology, "I'm sorry, Captain. I should've made sure everything was in order, this is no one's fault but mine."

"I expected better from you, Quartermaster," The Captain's comment cuts deep, even though you know this wasn't your fault. "Very well. Seeing as you have placed our crew in peril, I doubt you will oppose the solution to the problem you have created?"

You grit your teeth, dipping your head lower as you say, "Of course not, Captain. I apologize for speaking out of turn."

Clenching your hands by your side, you try to focus on the hot sun beating down your neck as you tune out the captain's voice. Getting angry won't do you any good here, not when you've already admitted defeat. The heavy thumps of feet moving all around you tells you that the crew is already beginning to change the ship's course, listening to the captain's orders as he yells them out. You shake your head, stomach churning as you realize that no one dares to challenge him, even if they all know deep down that they're being lead straight to the deaths.

You steel yourself as polished boots pause in front of yours, eye twitching as you look up and meet the captain's gaze. His solemn expression doesn't quite match the light tone of his voice as he leans in to say, "A hungry crew is a dangerous crew, Y/n. I don't think I need to remind you why that is."

Suppressing a shudder, you don't give him the satisfaction of knowing that his little comment has had the intended effect, bad memories already swirling in the back of your mind. Instead, you stare him down, defiant as ever until he shakes his head and walks off in the direction of his cabin.

It's only when he's out of sight that you reach up to trace the raised skin on your throat, the jagged scar that greets you whenever you glance in a mirror. No, there's no reminder nor threat needed. You know first-hand just how desperate a person can become when they're feeling depraved of what makes them human.

You swallow thickly, ripping your hand away from the old wound. There's no use dwelling on the past, there's nothing from that day that can help you now.

The sound of the sails billowing out as they catch more wind jerks your attention forward, gentle waves crashing against the hull of the ship as it picks up speed. You take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the salty air and pray to whatever god that might be listening that you'll be able to make it out of the passage alive.

The night has already fallen, the moon high in the sky, by the time you catch sight of the two large rock formations in the distance. Everything about the passage screams unnatural and strange, the two small mountains practically appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the sea. While they look to be on the smaller side, you know there's no way to sail around them. The waters are littered with reefs and strong currents, all traps that are bound to sink unsuspecting ships. You can make out the faint outline of a few of them on the horizon, their broken masts and half-sunken hulls serving as a haunting reminder that the only way past the passage is through it.

You squint as you notice a faint glow in the distance, the light too obscure to make out properly on deck. You quickly make your way up to the helm, hoping the raised platform will provide a better view.

"What's that?" You murmur, shooting the coxswain a worried glance.

"Ain't anything good, that's for sure," The man grumbles in reply. He tightens his grip on the wheel, eyebrows drawn tight as the ship steadily draws closer and closer.

The faint glow grows brighter with each passing minute, more and more sources of light appearing all over the two mountains. You suck in a breath as the ship enters the passage, the area so tight it barely allows for two vessels to pass each other. The close proximity allows you to see the lights more clearly, and you're shocked to discover that it seems to be coming from huge white flowers sprouting from the mountain sides. There's something algae-like clinging to the base of the mountains as well, illuminating the edges of the passage like guiding lights, beckoning you in.

The ship glides smoothly through the channel, the soft current carrying you all through the quiet water. Based on the stories you've heard you were expecting treacherous waves and jagged rocks that appear out of nowhere to throw the crew off-board, but there's none of that. In fact, there's nothing that points to this passage being dangerous at all, no signs of broken planks or fabric clinging to the mountain, no sunken ships visible below the surface. You can almost fool yourself into thinking that no other humans have ever sailed through these mountains before.

As beautiful and untouched as the passage may seem, there is something terribly unnerving about the silence that has settled over the ship. The crew has gone completely still, like they're scared of breaking the quiet. Likewise, you can't really find it in yourself to make any noise either, your lips pressed firmly together as you anxiously scan the mountain for hidden threats.

You've almost made it halfway through the passage when you first hear it.

There's a low hum, barely louder than the noise of the water breaking against the ship, that echoes between the tall rocks. You have to strain your ears to hear it at first, but the sound seems to grow with each gust of wind in the ship's sails, gradually increasing the further into the mountains you go.

You can't make out any words, the language either too old or foreign for you to understand, but the angelic voice behind them makes your heart yearn. You can feel the melody wrapping itself around your heart, squeezing, as it roots itself in your ribcage, sorrowful tendrils clinging to each bone.

"Come to the water."

The wind carries the whisper straight to your ear, caressing your skin like a warm breath, before it travels on. You jerk forward at the sensation, whipping your head around to locate where the voice could be coming from.

There's no one around you aside from the coxswain who looks to be lost in thought, mouth slack as he stares ahead.

You glance down at the deck, frowning as you notice that more and more of the crew are beginning to abandon their posts. They're all migrating to the right side of the ship, walking on unsteady feet like they've been guzzling down barrels of mead.

"Come to me."

You wince as the singing grows more intense, your breath stuttering in your chest in response to the voice that's so desperately calling for you.

You blink, eyes struggling to adjust, as the flowers and the algae on the mountains begin to thin out, taking their light away with them. As if that wasn't bad enough, a great shadow is suddenly cast upon the passage, the last of the illumination you had rapidly disappearing behind thick clouds as the moon is hidden away.

You curse under your breath, mentally taking note of the lit oil lanterns hanging around the ship. There's ten, no– nine, but if you gather them all up and place them near the bow, maybe it'll be enough light to get the ship safely out of the passage?

"I need to– hey!" You stumble back as the coxswain bumps into you, his eyes unseeing as he stumbles towards the stairs to the lower deck. A sudden drift to the side propels him forward, allowing him to slip out of your reach before you can grab his shirt and haul him back.

"Shit," You hiss, only giving yourself a split second to hesitate before whirling around to grab the wheel. The wood has already begun to turn left without the coxswain's steady hands to lead the way and the ship groans as you hurry to correct it back on the right path.

You keep a tight vise on the wheel, leaning forward to yell out for another crewmate to take over, when you hear the first splash.

Hurriedly glancing down at the deck, the swaying lanterns provide just enough light to show one of the cooks climbing over the railing, his movements stilted and jerky as he suddenly flings himself off the ship. Your scream is caught in your throat, your eyes wide with horror as you hear the subsequent splash of his body hitting the water.

What in the gods is going on?

Feet rooted to the floor and fear squeezing the back of your neck with a iron grip, you can only watch as the crew all clamber over the railing, throwing themselves off the ship one by one. The steady melody echoing between the mountains is only interrupted by the terrible sound of bodies sinking into the ocean.

Dread settles deep into the pit of your stomach as you realize there are no screams, no gasps for air, only silence – and him, the voice that's begging you to come rest along your brethren in the deep, peaceful ocean.

"No," You wheeze, shaking your head to rid the fog that's has begun creeping in. You cling to the wheel, fingers slick with sweat as you try to keep the ship steady, ignoring the blur that has settled at the edge of your vision.

"Captain!"

Hope shoots through your veins as you find your captain in the dwindling crowd, his bulky figure illuminated by the dancing lights as he stumbles over to the nearest crewmate, pulling them back from the railing. He pushes a few men back, his strength sending them sliding back to the middle of the deck.

You almost loosen your grip, ready to run down and help him, when he abruptly turns his back on them and jumps over the railing in one swift motion. He lands on the small ledge just outside of it, heels shuffling not to slip as he grips the banister with one arm.

"Captain!" The scream rips out of your throat, carrying across the silent deck like a bullet.

The captain shudders as it reaches him, his body jerking back and forth like he can't make up his mind on whether he should jump or not. Horrified, you watch as he twists his upper body around to face you, his expression stricken as he meets your gaze across the ship. He almost looks like he just came out of a trance, his face drenched in sweat and skin grey with fear as he tries to figure out how he ended up at the edge of the vessel.

You can see mouth opening, his lips forming around the first syllables of your name when the angelic voice suddenly grows louder, the haunting melody reverberating between the mountains. The captain's mouth goes slack, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he once again succumbs to spell that was controlling him. The last thing you see as the captain lets go of the railing, is the serene smile that takes over his face, his eyes closing as he falls backwards into the ocean.

Heart pounding inside your chest, you stare blankly at the now empty spot where your captain stood. You flinch, sick to your stomach, at the heavy splash that follows only seconds later.

"Lay your tired body to rest."

Your fingers twitch at the command, a little whisper in the back of your mind begging you to obey – to give in. You legs have started to shake, sweat sliding down your back in a steady stream at the effort it takes to resist the pull.

Even as you struggle to gulp down enough air, your body in overdrive from the unfathomable things you've just seen, you still find your pulse quickening, panic flooding every fibre of your being as it finally dawns on you what's going on.

You've sailed right into the territory of a siren.

Perhaps you should have seen it coming – the tales of the passage all emphasize how it's only the crew that go missing, not the ships. You've heard whispers about creatures lurking in the deep ocean, of monsters that eat humans, but you never expected that you would ever encounter them. They were folktales, something you chose not to believe in to protect your own sanity as a seafarer. Now, you can only curse yourself for not trusting your instincts the moment you felt the unearthly atmosphere of the mountains; that you didn't have enough forethought to at least stuff your ears and tie each crewmate to their post as a precaution.

Maybe it would've been enough to save the them – to save you.

You cower against the wheel as the song grows so loud it causes your ears to ring, the voice promising peace and eternal slumber. It urges, demands, your body to move and you whimper fearfully as your feet take a step back against your will.

You can't tell how much time has passed since the ship entered the mountains, it could be mere minutes or it could be hours – but as you peer into the looming darkness, you can finally make out where the passage ends and opens back up to the vast sea. The joy fizzles out before it can even take root, the sight in front of you filling you with a sense of glum acceptance. Even if you can see the end, there's no way you'll make it there. The ship is moving too slow, almost no wind making it past the tall mountains.

Your head throbs painfully as the siren's whispers turns more insistent. You can feel the creature's wrath, how angry he is that you're still resisting him. The increased pressure behind your skull makes you groan, your vision going dark as you're hit with a sudden dizzy spell.

Gripping the wheel, you're confused to find that the woods feels thicker, less polished, than it was only seconds before. You force your eyelashes to part despite the sharp pain it gives you, blinking furiously to clear your swimming vision. Your knees nearly buckle as the silent waters below come into focus, your body no longer on the upper deck. Dazed, you stare at the white knuckled grip you have on the railing, your feet tucked into the openings between the posts.

"Oh gods," You whisper shakily.

You have no idea how you got here.

The sound of a soft splash makes you turn your head to the side. Your throat runs dry as you watch the big circle of ripples that fan out from the spot where something dived underwater, the waves much too big to come from a normal fish. As you keep looking at the one spot in disbelief, one of the lanterns on the ship sway outwards, following the rocking of the ship.

It takes you a moment to realize what you're seeing, the stale bread you had earlier that day shooting up your throat as the waters on the side of the vessel is lit up. The ocean is no longer the clear blue it was when you entered the passage but rather a murky red, saturated with what must be the blood of your crewmates.

The sight makes you heave, tears springing to your eyes as the reality truly settles in.

You're going to die.

The siren – the predator – luring you all to your deaths, is clearly waiting right below, ripping everyone apart the moment they're submerged below the water. Even if the shock of the cold sea woke them up from their trance, they would have no chance to fight off such a vicious creature. You have no chance. The moment you step off the ship, you're dead.

You sob as the shock tapers off, the singing once again hitting you with full force. You can't stop your own body as you clumsily clamber over the railing, your feet moving without your permission. It's only when you hit the ledge that you find yourself able to jerk back, a moment of temporary control allowing you to plaster yourself against the banister.

Staring down at the crimson sea, you find your mind going blank. You always expected to see flashes of your life pass by your eyes when faced with certain death but there's nothing. No happy memories to numb the inevitable pain of being torn apart, muscles shredded to bits as water fills your lungs. No echoes of the voices you adore saying that they love you and that everything will be okay.

Instead, there's only the deadly quiet sea and the siren's taunting whispers urging you to jump.

You eye the dark water, noticing a large shape moving closer just under the surface of the ocean. You mindlessly reach for the dagger on your hip, clutching it tightly in your hand even if it means you're only clinging on with one arm. If your death is unavoidable, then you're sure as hell not going down without inflicting a deep cut or two.

As something begins to emerge from the water, the song that has been constantly ringing between your ears suddenly quiets down. Your skin puckers with goosebumps, all the hair on your body rising in fear as a head slowly rises above the surface. The siren's dark locks are one with the water, the long strands flowing into the ocean like spindly fingers. In the dark, there's no telling where it ends, as if the ocean is merely an extension of the creature itself.

Two pitch black eyes, as dark and deep as the starless skies above, lock onto yours the moment they rise above the surface. The flickering lantern doesn't offer much assistance but the poor light tells you that it has no discernible pupils, nothing to indicate that there's any life in them. It's like staring into an endless void.

Despite the chill those eyes send down your spine, your feet willingly takes another step forward, like the mere presence of the creature alone is enough to entrance your body. You let out a pained scream as you slip, your shoulder popping loudly as you manage to grab onto a post, one arm working desperately to keep you from failing into the water below.

"No, no, no," You whimper, gravity making it impossible to reach up with your other arm. You won't be able to pull yourself up even if you drop your knife, the small ledge above making it impossible to locate another post.

You glance down as you dangle from the ship, your grip almost slipping out of fright as the siren's maw comes into view above water. His jaw is unhinged, hellish, mouth stretched way past that of a normal human. It's filled with rows of fang-like teeth, all stained with crusted blood. Terrified, you watch as the siren seems to simply pop his jaw back into place, like the fact that it was just opened so wide it was touching his sternum poses no issues at all.

The creature tilts his head, thinking, as he watches you struggle to drag yourself up. He swims closer, the movement so fluent it looks like he's just gliding through the water. Your arm is shaking terribly by the time he's only a few feet away from where you'll hit the ocean, your shoulder screaming with hurt from holding on for so long.

Through the blinding pain, you see the siren reach out a webbed hand, his long black claws nearly the size of his fingers. He gives you a smile you can only describe as sinister, blood stained teeth on display and his voice melodious as he says, "Come, pet."

You can feel the thrall taking hold this time, your body willingly going slack one limb after the other. You have no time to think, no time to act, before your hand simply just lets go of the railing on its own volition.

In the second it takes for your body to fall, before your eyes squeeze shut and your body is surrendered to the water – all you can think as you spare the skies one last glance, is that the gods must be cruel if they can't even give you a starry night to look upon before you're torn apart by their horrific creation.

Groaning, you slowly open your eyes. There's a dull ache at the base of your skull and every blink up at the pink-tinted sky only seems to make it throb more. The surface you're lying on is hard, terribly uncomfortable, and there's no steady rocking motion to soothe you back to sleep for a few extra minutes of rest.

Something feels wrong.

It's only when your eyes have fully adjusted to the soft light that you're snapped back to reality, the distant sound of waves breaking bringing back the memories of the night before. You jerk upright, heart racing, as they come flooding in all at once. The crew, the siren, the blood. You jumped. You should be dead.

You force yourself to take slow, steady breaths, shakily inhaling air through your nose as you glance around. You can't afford to panic right now, not when you don't know where the creature is or when it might come back.

The morning sun is just barely peeking over the top of the mountain that's blocking most of your sight, casting a large shadow over what appears to be a lake just in front of you. It's still dark, still dawn, on your side of the mountain and it makes the faint glow on the rocks all the more noticeable. You're too far away to tell for sure but you have a terrible feeling that it's likely the same flowers that you sailed past in the passage. And if you can still see them, that means you must be on the other side of the mountains you attempted to travel through.

You're sitting near the mouth of what appears to be a small cave, connected by a large piece of flat stone that's jutting out into the lake. It's lined with clusters of big and small rocks, creating an odd border along the sides of it. The mountain around the cave is unnaturally smooth, the incline too sharp for you to even think about climbing it. No matter how much you stare at the rock formation that's surrounding you, you can't find a way out. There's no open space that would allow you to escape.

You eye the other side of the lake with a shudder, noting that it looks to be more rough there with a few ledges and ridges you can probably use to haul yourself up. The only problem is; you'll have to actually swim across the deep body of water first. It sounds like a sure-fire way to get yourself eaten, though you doubt staying here is much better. The creature must've kept you alive and brought you here for a reason, and you're really don't want to find out why that is.

A pained gasp escapes you as you pull your right shoulder back. The initial adrenaline and panic when you woke up must've blocked out most of the hurt of your dislocated shoulder but now that it's starting to fade, it's coming back fast. The bone is still very much popped out of its socket, the area inflamed and swollen as you lightly touch it with trembling fingers. You swallow thickly as your arm begins to twitch, a burning spasm racing from your shoulder to the tips of your hands.

You bite down on your lip to stop your groan, tasting blood as the involuntary cramp continues.

"Fuck," You wheeze, eyes glazing over as you stare at the rising sun. If you're going to have any chance of escaping, you have no choice but to fix your shoulder.

You stuff the damp material of your shirt into your mouth, hoping it'll be enough to muffle your voice as you carefully lie back down on the stone. Years on the sea has taught you a thing or two and dislocated shoulders are a common injury when you're part of a crew that loves to brawl whenever they visit a tavern. You've seen the way they pale and yell when it gets adjusted and while you have no idea if the siren will be able to hear you scream – you'd rather not risk it.

White hot pain pulses out of your shoulder as you extend the arm to raise it above your head, your vision blurring as you slowly reach for your opposite shoulder behind your head. It hurts, gods, it hurts, but you have to do this. You release a muffled scream as the dislocated bone finally pops back into place, cold sweat dripping down your temple as you tremor with pain. You lay there, harshly panting through the cloth in your mouth, until the hurt subsides to only an ache.

You wince as you push yourself off the hard stone, spitting out your shirt to release a labored breath. Your body feels battered and bruised, completely worn down from all the horrors you've been through in the past six or so hours. You have no idea if you even have enough energy to make it across the lake, the distance probably greater than it looks, but what other alternative do you have?

Just as you're about to get off the ground, the sound of a soft splash echoes between the mountain walls. You jerk, heart skipping a painful beat in your chest as you frantically scan the water. You freeze when you notice how the surface is rippling much closer than expected, only a third of the lake between you and the waves that are parting around a dark shadow.

Out of instinct, your hand falls to your hip, searching for your knife. Your fingers only grip around air, the smooth handle nowhere to be found. In your panic, it takes you a second too long to remember that you held it as you fell from the ship, the knife probably lost somewhere at the bottom of the passage.

You scramble back on the rock as the creature's outline becomes visible, hands reaching out blindly behind your back for anything that can be used as a weapon.

You falter, blood running cold, as pale arms suddenly reach out of the water, planting themselves square on the edge of the rock. The siren heaves himself up without any issues, resting his back against one of the larger stones that's lining the flat extension of the cave. Water drips off his body like sparkling crystals in the morning light, giving a healthy glow to his otherwise almost sickly white skin. His long black hair hangs like a curtain in front of his face, the strands reaching far past his back, dipping into the water.

Patches of scales litter his arms and abdomen; a long fin running down the length of his spine. You find it hard to believe your own eyes as you stare at his stomach, at the area where the creature's human-like qualities disappear completely and transitions into that of a fish. His tail is long and thick, dreadfully similar to a serpent in the way it undulates on the rock as the water slowly evaporates from its scales. The slight movement allows the sun to dance across the siren's tail, showing off the iridescent glow that was hidden by the dark night. The sight leaves you transfixed, hues of colors you've only seen in the sky shimmering across his body.

Your attention is only stolen away when the creature raises one of his hands, his webbed fingers and pointed, long nails looking like they've been dipped in black ink. He runs his claws through his hair, parting the long locks that've been hiding his face.

You jerk back, swallowing thickly, when you find that the siren is already staring in your direction. His eyes are just as dark and emotionless as you can recall from the night before, two endless pools of black. The lack of a discernible pupil is unnerving, it makes it all that much harder to tell just where the creature is really looking. Long lashes frame his haunting eyes and the perfect slope of his nose leads down to the plushest, red lips you've ever seen.

You feel yourself pale as he opens his mouth, those horrible sharp teeth becoming visible as he calmly says, "Your knife is long gone, human." The siren dips his head slightly, looking at the way your hand is still resting near your hip, desperate for the familiar comfort of your knife.

What?

Your mouth parts in disbelief, brain slow to compute the fact that the creature just spoke, out loud, with a voice that sounded eerily human and ordinary.

"Can you not talk, pet? I swear I heard your sweet voice refusing me when the moon was high."

"I-I can," You stumble over your words, tongue twisting in your mouth under the siren's watchful gaze.

"Wonderful!" Something pleased passes over his face, his fin hitting the water with an excited splash. The loud sound makes you flinch, droplets spraying up on the rock just shy of your legs. The corner of the siren's lips quirks at your reaction, as if he finds it funny.

It reminds you of the way your crew used to look at street dogs, their expressions taunting and terrible as they made them do tricks for scraps of food.

It's cheap entertainment, they always used to tell you.

You can't help but wonder if that's what you are – mere entertainment for the siren until he decides to stop playing with his food.

The thought makes you furious. The mocking twist of his lips gives you a sudden rush of defiance, your rebellious nature rearing its head despite the dangerous predator right in front of you. Perhaps there might have been some truth to what your captain always liked to say – you never quite learned when to back down and keep quiet.

You breathe in slowly through your nose, attempting to calm your racing heart as you say, "How are you speaking a language I understand?"

"Easy. Humans are simple creatures and so are their languages," He answers, cocking his head.

"What are you, then?" You blurt, "Parts of you look human and the rest does not. Were you cursed?"

Like the flip of a coin, the siren's expression turns hard, offended, at the insinuation that he might be human. He jerks forward, lips pulling back to reveal his sharp teeth as he lets out a terrible hiss. The sight sends all the alarm bells inside of you blaring, your shoulder screaming in protest as you collapse backward, using your elbows to drag yourself further inside the cave.

"I am not a fragile human," He scoffs, turning his head to glance out on the lake. He flexes his tail to deliver another harsh smack to the water surface, the sound bouncing between the walls of crater. "Have you not heard stories, little human? Of creatures blessed with qualities of the sea and land?"

It takes you a moment to regain your voice, fear making it tremble as you carefully say, "Do you mean mermaids?"

"Correct, pet," He hums, "I see you're not completely hopeless."

You dig your nails into flat rock, voice tight as you ask, "What about the singing? You.. you made everyone jump. I didn't know mermaids could do that."

The siren looks wistful as tips his head back to face the sun. He closes his eyes with a small sigh, "Life becomes tedious when you stay in the same place for too long. I needed something new, so I left my brothers for colder water after hearing about these great big things that moved through the oceans there. Hm... I wonder if the ships have managed to reach them yet, it must be close to fifty humans years since I left."

You blink, shocked that the siren is well over twice your age. He looks young, definitely not a day older than you, but you suppose creatures like him must age at a different rate. Clearly the world is much different from what you first thought – slow aging is likely the least fantastical thing out there to discover.

"The ships lost their charm quickly," He adds, "But the humans on-board were fascinating. They called out to each other in melodies, both happy and sad as they sailed through my home. I was alone here at first, few of my kind dared to venture into colder climates, so the humans were all I had for company. It took me many human years to reshape my throat but I eventually learned to mimic their sounds. After that it was easy to learn the most common tongues that passed through my water."

"One day a ship of humans heard me singing and came looking for the source instead of passing me by – that was when I realized it was a wonderful way to lure you in. Your species have always been much too curious for your own good," The sun catches on the siren's teeth as he grins, highlighting the rows of fangs lining his mouth.

You shudder, stomach turning at how easily he speaks of the hundreds, if not thousands, of people he must have murdered over the years.

"Many moons passed and I grew tired of playing with my food. I found a sea witch – awfully slippery creatures – that gave me part of her magic, making it possible for me to enthrall humans from a greater distance. She was of great help, quite tasty too."

You can only stare at him in silence, lips pressed together tightly to hold back the acid burning at the back of your throat.

"I believe you humans created a name for me – to ward off others from crossing my path," He cocks his head, expectant, as he sends you a side-ways look.

"You're a siren," You whisper, pulling yourself back another inch.

"The one and only, pet," He purrs. "Though, I would prefer that you would utter my real name over something made up. Try saying Seokjin for me, little human."

You'd rather force your shoulder back into its socket a hundred times before complying to a monster's wishes, but it isn't exactly a request you can refuse.

So you grit your teeth, forcing out a stilted, "S-Seokjin."

Disgust curls deep in your stomach as the siren's tail once again quivers back and forth, seemingly pleased with your acquiescence.

You look across the lake at the unmoving mountain, mustering up the courage to ask the question that's been at the forefront of your mind ever since you woke up. "What happened to my crew?" You ask weakly, "Are any of them still alive?"

"No."

The answer comes easily, no hint of remorse or guilt in the siren's voice.

You can feel your nails ache and splinter against the rock as you scrape them across the surface, desperate for something to hold on to as you say, "Did you ... Did you eat them?"

"Of course. Do you expect me to starve?" Seokjin replies impassively, "You humans hunt your food too, I've seen how you use those rope contraptions to gather up fish."

You knew there was little chance of other survivors, but the confirmation still feels like a shock. Your vision swims, hot tears burning your eyes as unwelcome images of your crew – your captain – eaten by the very creature in front of you, flashes across your mind.

"We don't hunt other humans! Nothing this close to our own species!" You cry, voice rising with anger as grief twists itself around your heart. Your crew might not have been much, but they were still the closest thing you had to a family – a home.

Seokjin looks unmoved by your outburst, bored almost, as he says, "Pet, this is how the ocean works. Do you lecture fish when they eat their smaller brethren? Species do not matter. It's either kill or die here."

"Then why am I alive?" You ask, swallowing thickly around the lump in your throat.

The siren seems to perk up your question, scales glistening as he straightens up against the rock. He finally turns his head to face to you fully, his dark eyes sparkling with excitement. "See, little human, now you're finally asking the right thing. I find you fascinating – I haven't had a human pique my interest in many moons. I want to know how you managed to resist me for that long, why my thrall isn't as effective on you. What makes you so different from all the other humans that have jumped so willingly into my water?"

A foreboding sense of unease washes over you as Seokjin speaks, every muscle in your body tensing with fear. The siren wants to study you? The only way he can do that is to continue to use his thrall - his voice - and make you do things you do not want to do. He can force you to present your limbs for nibbling and you'll be none the wiser until it's too late.

"I don't know," You shake your head, "I-I didn't even know you existed until last night!"

"How disappointing," Seokjin clicks, the flicker of emotion on his face once again melting away to nothing. "Well then, pet, as expected, it seems you will be staying here until my curiosity is sated."

"What?" You clamber to your knees, gripping them tightly to keep yourself from doing something as humiliating as bowing – begging – the awful creature in front of you for an ounce of humanity that he clearly does not have.

"You can't do that, I can't stay here!"

"Then jump in the water and see how long you last," Seokjin once again flicks his strong tail, the harsh smack sending a tremble down your spine.

The siren's lips part into a something akin to a twisted smile, his blood speckled teeth making you sick as he hums, "Your thighs look delectable, little human, and I am quite prone to an early morning snack. So unless you want to watch as I eat you alive, you better stay put."

There's a minuscule quirk to his brows, a challenge, as he watches you absorb his words. Seokjin doesn't wait for you to give him an answer, your stunned silence more than enough for him. He doesn't spare you another glance as he pushes himself off the rock, effortlessly jumping back into the lake. It only takes a few seconds, a couple of strong flaps of his fin, before he disappears from view and his dark tail is nowhere to be seen.

You find yourself frozen to the spot, unable to move as you stare mindlessly at the spot Seokjin entered the water. The harsh ripples dancing over the surface is the only proof you have that you haven't lost your mind, that all of this is actually real.

Pressing your hands to your face, you finally allow your body to break, to mourn, as you release pained sobs into your palms. Everything hurts. Your body, your mind, your heart. You have no idea how you're going to escape to the mountain on the other side, and even if you do, then what? The siren can just use his song to lure you back down.

Seokjin has made the situation very clear. You can try to cross the lake and dive straight into your own grave, or you let him do what he wants. Either way – you fear it won't take long before the siren makes good on his promise.

You don't doubt it'll amuse him to make you watch as he tears you apart, piece by piece.

a/n: hello folks!! we are once again diving back into the TCS universe, only this time with seokjin as our lead mermaid! what do you think about him and his siren powers so far? this will likely only be a two part series, with more yandere behaviour and some smut in the final chapter, so if you enjoy the story so far please let me know! it’s really motivating to hear your thoughts and read your comments (and reblogs help a lot)!!

the final chapter will likely be posted in july if there’s enough interest for it 🧜‍♀️

in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖

#yandere au #yandere bts #mermaid au #mermaid seokjin #yandere mermaid #mermaid bts #seokjin x reader #yandere seokjin #yandere x reader #bts au #seokjin au #bts fanfic

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pedgito · 1 year

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summary | using your neighbors address for deliveries doesn’t seem like the worst idea until you find yourself with a world of dilemmas and a burgeoning crush on the single dad who lives there. [10k+]

pairing | pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no explicit use of y/n, reader is a teacher (only for loose plot purposes) meet-weirds, a cliche stranger neighbors to pining lovers take on pre-outbreak joel, lots of sweet interactions with sarah, joel's internal struggles to be a good dad, awkward interactions & flirting, soft sexual content (oral, protected sex, joel talking you through it like a gentleman)

author’s note | this came from a prompt i saw (ignore that actual legality issues of this, it's just for fun) that was meant to be a quick blurb but turned into this monster of porn with plot…i regret nothing, enjoy! or don’t that’s fine

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3

To be clear, this wasn’t the first route you took to avoid the problem. And for whatever reason, fate or be it some other evil, unseen force, it always stuck you in the awkwardest positions.

It also didn’t help that your mailman was probably the judgiest person on this earth, despite it not being his business, the suspicious amount of packages and content of said packages were enough to garner a few looks and even the occasional mumble under his breath.

So, when you start to put down your neighbors address for all of your future packages, it doesn’t seem like a problem.

He’s gone a lot anyways, his truck only pulling once the sun has already set and you’re laying in bed, bright headlights cascading against the walls through your upstairs window. His exhaust kicks off a couple times and it always rouses you from your sleep just enough to annoy you. He's hardly there, it's fine. You've got nothing to worry about.

You’ve only caught a glimpse of him in the morning, a young woman prancing at his side as she hops into the passenger seat. Her name is Sarah.

As for him, he was Dad.

You’ve been here for three months and haven’t made any attempt to be neighborly or make friends, yet you were brave enough to slip his address onto your order forms and go on about your day.

And, in your defense, it works well.

Packages always arrive around the time you’re pulling into your driveway, the perfect opportunity before the trail of buses traverse through the cul de sac and flush out the rowdy kids from their seats.

A quick jog over and you’re snatching up the package without any inclination that something is amiss.

Until again, it becomes a problem.

Not even a problem, really—but it’s still a weird conversation to have, standing at your neighbors doorstep with a package in your hand and looking like some porch pirate with bad manners, if that was even possible.

He was home, but that wasn’t the issue. It was Saturday, a small overlook when you placed your order last week that led you to the position you were in now, staring down the man with your package clutched in his hands.

“This yours?” He asks, an eyebrow raising inquisitively. The contents shake as he holds it up.

“Yeah.” You start, sounding unsure of yourself, “I accidentally gave them the wrong address, didn’t realize until it was already shipped and I’ve been waitin’ all week.”

He didn’t need the explanation, but he lets you speak until your heart’s content, taking a quick glance at the label on the box.

He says your name, double checking to make sure it was you. You nod, extending a friendly hand.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize. It’s sweet, clipped, believable enough that he doesn’t try to implore further.

He finally hands the box over, not a word on your tongue as you fetch the package and retreat back to your home with your heart racing like it was going to burst out of your chest.

You’re already long gone by the time the smirk reaches Joel’s face, a sudden glance back at his daughter. Sarah is laughing from the couch, the noise muffled behind her hand.

“Maybe she’s flirting with you.”

Joel huffs at that, a warm laugh bubbling from his chest.

“Darlin’, I doubt that.”

“That’s the sixth package that’s been sent here.” Sarah adds, “I’m not orderin’ anything. Are you?”

Joel gives her a look that answers itself.

“Then?”

Things are smooth sailing for another couple weeks, but the shared secret between Joel and Sarah is unbeknownst to you.

So, smooth sailing for you, you think.

Joel drags it out until another day when he’s free from work, waiting for those footsteps to reach his porch, a quick nudge from Sarah that has him standing from his comfortable spot on the couch as she moves away from his shoulder.

But, they never come.

And Joel doesn’t know why that sends a surge of confused worry down his spine, but it’s out of the norm. He should check on you.

Sarah's the one to remind him of it.

“Take it over there.” It startles Joel, her ability to sneak up on him so easily. His brow furrows, flipping the package in his grip after he finally opened the door and gave in.

“Go.”

Sarah’s practically shoving him out of the door before he can refuse.

When Joel reaches your front door he can already see you, arm tucked under your head, resting over the arm of your couch as you napped silently, the soft hum of the television muffled by the front door. Joel knocks once, a softer and gentler attempt than he’d usually go for, and when that doesn’t work he goes for the latter, one solid knock that could surely wake you.

It doesn’t.

Joel leans over the trimmed hedge resting underneath the window sill and taps on the glass, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when you finally wake.

It takes you a moment to adjust, but your eyes are stretching like saucers when your blurry vision becomes clear.

“Shit, shit,” Joel hears the tail end of it as you open the door, “—I’m so—“

“Look I’m not judgin’” He begins, handing the package over without question, “but seein’ as you’re using my address, it would be nice if you clued me in.”

Your mouth opens slightly, wondering how in the hell you could explain this. Joel catches wind of your uncertainty.

“My daughter’s pretty observant,” He scratches at his forehead idly, shoving his other hand into his front pocket, “and I’ve noticed it for about a month now—m’just curious.”

“Uh, okay—how do I explain this?” You ask aloud, placing the package on a nearby surface. “I order a lot of stuff for work. Like, more than normal. It’s a bunch of different things, sometimes a little odd, I guess?”

Joel flashes a grin of amusement, subtle, but there. He nods, urging you to continue.

“Our mail guy kept giving me weird looks—not like it’s his job to judge but I haven’t been here long, the last thing I needed was someone spreadin’ word around the neighbhorhood.”

It was a small community, tight knit. It was a reasonable defense, but Joel kept quiet.

“I’m sure he thinks I’m a psychopath, but I figured maybe putting your address down and pickin’ them up after would help. I mean, it did for a while, but—It was a stupid idea, I'm sorry.“

“What’s in the box?” Joel asks curiously.

It catches you off-guard, blinking a few times as you glance over at the package.

“Uh, pipe cleaners. You know, the craft ones. All different colors.”

“And what about the other ones?”

It was justifiable, the questions he had.

“Huh, um—lots of paint, some rolls of tape, rope, these little face masks for the kids to work on for the town carnival next week. I can keep going but...I don't think you'd find it that interesting.”

“You’re…a teacher?” Joel assumes.

You don’t realize until half a second later that you’d slipped up so easily.

“Yeah, first grade.”

“Well, I don’t mind it, but don’t worry about that kid.” Joel tells you, “We’ve been workin’ on that street by the office for a few weeks and he’s always causin’ some type of trouble. If anything, I can talk to the boss up there, let ‘em know.”

“It’s fine, there’s no need for all that.”

“Well, just trying to be neighborly,” Joel shrugs, and the smile that breaks through, one that you can see, is something indescribable, “I can help you out and have Sarah drop the packages off when she can, unless I happen to catch it before she does to save you a trip.”

“You’re okay with me using your address still?” You ask, a little perturbed.

“Don’t see why not, it’s not hurting anyone.” Joel responds, “And if it saves you a few minutes of feelin’ embarrassed.”

“I don’t know, this is pretty embarrassing too.”

Joel doesn’t seem bothered, shaking his head with the corners of his mouth downturned.

“You’re fine, again—it’s harmless.”

You nod slowly, relenting to his unusual politeness. You weren’t sure southern hospitality was a real thing, but there he was, standing on two legs before you.

“Thank you, uh—“

“Joel.” He answers for you, “Probably should’ve started with that.”

And putting a name to a face had never been more satisfying.

“Thank you, Joel.” You repeat once more, name rolling off your tongue foreignly, smiling nonetheless.

“If you need anything we’re just across the way,” Joel jabs his thumb in the direction of his home, “as much as Sarah loves the Adlers', she might end up clingin’ to you if you let her get to know you.”

Unfortunately for Joel, he’s sealing his own fate by speaking it into existence.

He leaves without a word, waving a quick goodbye over his shoulder as his boots scuff against pavement.

The deep, shaky breath you let out is a reminder that being in new places, trying new things, forming new relationships, wasn’t always a bad thing.

Sarah greets you with a big smile the first day she catches a package before you, opening with a line you don’t expect.

“Do you have markers, by chance?”

She’s all sunshine and adolescent innocence, eyes too wide and unguarded from the world—it’s an effect of Joel’s obvious overprotectiveness he feels toward her. He’s shielded her from so much, though if you asked Joel, not enough.

“I do,” You answer with an airiness to your voice, “whaddya say, fair trade—my package for the markers?”

“Sure.” She nods, handing over the box.

You disappear briefly, the heels of her converse teetering on your doorstep, a gentle rock back and forth as she curiously peers inside your home.

It’s fairly boring, but it’s home. That’s all that matters to you.

“Just try to get them back to me when you’re done?” It’s not so much a demand, handing the pack over to the young girl. “No rush, take them as long as you need ‘em.”

“Yeah, I will!” She responds cheerfully. “I’ve been reminding my dad for a few days but he works a lot, forgets things—are all adults that bad at remembering?”

“Some of us have a lot on our mind,” You shrug, speaking candidly, “You know what—just keep those.”

“Are you sure?” She asks warily, “I didn’t mean to, like, guilt you or anything—“

“No, no.” You assure her, “It helps you both out, that way your dad won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“Okay.” Sarah responds wistfully, glancing back as the sound of Joel’s truck inches up the street. Joel is pulling the toolbox out of his truck bed when Sarah calls out loudly, “Dad!” shaking the boxed markers in the air.

“She hustle you for those?” Joel calls out, eyes connecting with you. “Sarah, we talked about this—“

“She did not,” Still, the implication earns a laugh from both of you, “they’re free, less for you to worry about.”

And it stings a little, but Joel hides it well.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Joel warns, “She’s just as evil as she is sweet.”

The smile that stretches across Sarah’s face is telling in its own right.

There’s a month of nice, minimal interaction with your neighbors. The Adler's bake too much, always offering up baked goods to the surrounding houses, yours included. You always end up with the extra oatmeal raisins because Sarah despises them and apparently, so does Joel.

Sometimes you catch Sarah at the front door or outside, kicking her soccer ball around or waiting on the steps for her father, even into the later hours of the night. Sometimes it’s Joel, who always ends up at your doorstep rather than you at his.

Joel likes to ask about your day, a polite but awkward attempt at small talk.

He hasn’t tried talking to anyone since Sarah’s mom, it felt forced—but he was trying, even if it was nearly impossible to get through some days.

Joel talked a lot about Sarah, or work, occasionally bringing up his brother Tommy—he works with him too. You’ve seen him a few times and finally put another name to another face, and he's younger than Joel by five years, closer to your own age. Joel opens up little by little, day by day, completely by his own doing despite how little you talk about yourself.

Joel enjoys the way you always have a smile on your face despite how your morning goes, always hanging on to his words like they're the most interesting thing you've heard in a while. He enjoys having someone to talk to that isn't family or people who he's obligated to converse with to get himself through the day. It's the first time he's really started to go out of his own way to get to know someone.

It’s late Friday night when you end up at his doorstep, dressed in some thin pajamas to combat that Texas heat and humidity—nighttime somehow felt worse, the bugs pricking at your bare legs and the material sticking to your skin.

Your package should’ve arrived today and you didn’t see it outside—but a quick glance through the open entrance, albeit guarded by a screen door, showed that it was sitting right there on their kitchen table.

You knock on the glass pane lightly.

“Dad!” Sarah calls out from somewhere you can’t see, “Door!”

“You can’t get it?” He shouts back, also nowhere to be seen.

“I’m busy!”

You chuckle to yourself, hearing Joel's gruff, “Like I ain’t!”

Sarah’s silence is answer enough.

“Shit—“ It’s a gruff noise, stuck deep in Joel’s gravelly undertone, “hold on!”

Joel’s pulling his shirt over his head as he rounds the corner, leaving you a small glimpse of the tan skin underneath. He relaxes when he realizes it's you.

“Just come in,” Joel says, “you’re probably getting eaten up out there.”

And truly, you’ve never been more thankful.

Joel opens the door to let you pass, the strong scent of fresh body wash invading your senses, his hair still wet from the shower.

“M’sorry, I was gonna bring it by later.” Joel apologizes, “I got off a little earlier tonight and wanted to grab a shower.”

He’s handing you the box with a calculated movement, flicking his watch over his wrist as he secures it, glancing at you briefly.

“Should I guess?” Joel asks.

“Uh—“

“The box.” He clarifies.

You decide to tease him a little, head tilted slightly as you grin, “You’d be guessin’ for a while.”

Joel hums a small noise, fidgeting with watch as he shifts it into place before standing with his hands resting against his hips.

“Uh, let’s see—clay?”

Not a terrible guess. An odd one to go for on the first try, though.

“God no, that would be everywhere.”

“Those creepy little eyes?”

“Googly eyes?” You correct with a faint laugh, “No, but that’s definitely been one of the packages I’ve ordered lately. The kids love them.”

“I give up.” Joel says in defeat, hands raising up slightly before slapping down at his sides. A rather quick win on your part.

“They’re seeds, for flowers.” You tell him, “We’re going over photosynthesis right now. All that boring stuff about plants and how they grow but the kids are more excited to play with dirt for a couple hours.”

Joel nods slowly, thoughtfully, top lip disappearing behind his bottom in a pout of thoughtfulness.

“Invite her over already!”

Joel sighs, rubbing his palm over his beard as he scratches lightly.

“If you don’t I will.” She adds.

You don’t have to see her face to know that smile. She was evil, and damn was she good at it.

“Right, uh—“

“No, please don’t feel obligated,” If anything, it made you feel like more of a bother, “my feelings won’t be hurt.”

“No, I was—I planned on asking.” Joel admits, “Just kept forgettin’.”

That and he didn’t know to casually bring it up in conversation.

Point one, Sarah. Joel, zero.

“They’re throwin’ a little party for my birthday. Just a cookout is all, gonna have food, beers—is that somethin’ you’re into?”

Joel feels ridiculous, a grown man in his mid-thirties and sweating over the prospect of inviting a woman over.

“I can be.”

Your smile is relaxed, reaching your eyes in the way that makes them squint a little.

You can smell the fresh soap and spice of his cologne from this distance, a welcomed change from his usual worn, dirty state—not that you hated it, but Joel did clean up nice.

“Great, tomorrow at 7?”

“6!” Sarah quickly corrects, sounding exhausted.

Joel rolls his eyes, a sign of an also very tired father.

The snort of laugh slips out before you can hide it, slapping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment.

“Uh, I’ll just show up somewhere in between, how about that?”

Joel seems unfazed, fighting against his own grin as he nods.

He forgets to tell you goodnight as you leave, something that doesn’t even cross your mind, but to him, feels like a missed opportunity.

“So out of your league, brother.” Tommy whistles lowly, shaking his head in disbelief as he flips the half-cooked burger on the grill. “Shit—explain it to me again, actually.”

“She sends her packages here,” Joel’s short, to the point. “s’not much to explain, Tommy.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Tommy counters.

Joel shrugs.

“What the hell’ve you done with my brother?” Tommy jokes lightly, earning a half-hearted shove from Joel.

Tommy’s eyes flick toward you briefly, helping Sarah in the kitchen as she ices the cake. Sarah smiles at whatever you’re saying, your back turned to both of the men.

“Don’t act like you’d be lettin’ slide for just anyone. How well do you know her?”

“Well enough,” Joel shrugs, “Sarah likes her, probably a little too much.”

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know much about you at all. But, he wanted too. Tommy saw right through it, but he didn't push Joel. He knew better.

“Careful,” He warns with a soft chuckle, “once that kid sinks her teeth in, there's no way she’s letting her leave.”

Joel knows it’s too late—her eagerness to invite you over, always finding excuses to talk to you or force Joel to do the same. The kid was too smart for her own good.

Even after all is said and done, you decide to stick around to help clean up. Tommy nearly runs at the opportunity to skip out of the mess, waving a quick goodbye to three of you before he’s gone.

Sarah doesn’t fight Joel when he tells her to head upstairs to get some sleep, knowing that he could manage it on his own. He didn’t deny your offer to help either, taking the kind gesture in stride.

“How does it feel?” You ask, breaking the silence as you swipe up the dishes into your right arm, stacking the plates and cutlery with a careful movement. “35, I mean?”

Joel chuckles aloud at that, short and flippant as he turns his back, swiping the empty beer bottle from the grill.

“Old,” He answers simply, “and with Sarah getting older it feels like five years for every one.”

“You look like you’re doing alright,” You admit, but it feels like an overstep, your mouth backtracking before your brain can think, “at least, it seems that way.”

Joel smiles slightly, an emotion that only fills half of his face. He’s unsure of it all.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a more cheerful kid,” You sidestep through the backdoor and into the kitchen, placing the dishes in the sink, “and she talks about you a lot.”

Joel drops the empty bottles into the trash, joining you by the sink before politely shoving you aside, “I got ‘em.”

You pull away begrudgingly, but it fades quickly.

“I’m probably the last person you care to hear this from, but I’ve met a lot of parents, seen a lot of different situations, families—she’s happy, so you’re doing somethin’ right.”

“I’m just tryin’ to keep things normal, I guess.” Joel explains with his hands halfway submerged in soapy water. “I’m all she’s got.”

A system flows smoothly as Joel passes off the wet dishes for you to dry, stacking them up on the counter.

The glaringly obvious lack of a second parent is not lost on you and if Joel didn’t want to bring it up, it wasn’t your business. But, his face reads guilt—it always does.

Guilty for working too much, guilty for forgetting things, guilty for making Sarah (and Tommy) worry about him so much.

“Enough about me,” Joel shakes away the excess water, taking the offered dish towel from your hands and patting his own dry, “you want a piece to go?”

The beautiful cake Sarah made, homemade and imperfect, nearly devoured by the four of you already.

“No, I’ll be okay,” You wave your hand freely before resting them in the back pockets of your jeans, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the flooring, “thank you for inviting me, by the way. Not that Sarah gave you an option.”

Joel laughs behind his curled fist, a finger scratching at the fullness of his beard before he’s rubbing his palm over the expanse of it and down his neck.

It doesn’t matter that Joel was the one to mention it to Sarah, wondering if it seemed to forward. The look she returned was typical of a teenage girl and nothing short of making Joel feel stupid for asking.

“You’re good company,” He compliments, “plus the Adlers might think I’m stiffin’ them if I don’t bring a plate over in the morning, so it’s probably best you don’t take that piece anyways.”

“Hey, they’re sweet,” You chastise him lightly, shoving him gently in the side with a finger, “— and those cookies, man.”

Joel smiles thoughtfully, glancing up toward the open front door, a windless night covered in a blanket of silence.

“Can I walk you back?” Joel asks, mostly out of his habitual politeness but a few more minutes with you would be nice.

“Joel, I’m practically in your backyard.” Your eyes study him shortly, the subtle shrug in his shoulders. It was a kind gesture, one that you wouldn’t expect from anyone else. “Fine, have it your way.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, hearing you giggle on the way to the door, his footsteps following closely behind.

And it feels akin to the awkwardness you feel after a first date, the will he won’t he, who should make a move—is there a move to be made? It’s the unspoken giddiness that terrifies you, something you haven’t felt in a long time.

But, it also doesn’t surprise you when Joel does absolutely nothing—not that he needs to feel the responsibility too, but he always looks like he’s poised to say more, ask another question, and even now as you turn to him, fingers wrapped around the handle of your front door, he’s thinking.

You're quick to quiet his mind.

“Hey,” You call to him quietly, “I’ll give you a quick tour, if you want?”

It’s harmless, giving him a chance to get a peek inside your life, as hectic and unorganized as it was. You were single, alone, and didn’t have to worry about anything but yourself and the overload of things you’ve accumulated in your space, namely for your job.

But, despite the disorganization it’s nearly spotless.

“You still haven’t unpacked?” He asks curiously, tapping his fingers against a pile of cardboard stacked high, unopened.

“Mostly,” You answer candidly, leading him through the open floor of your home, doors wide open, the freshness of lemon lingering throughout, “living room, some of the kitchen, bedroom—it’s mostly done, it’s just the last room on the right that’s kickin’ my ass.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise in question, silently asking you to lead him further. He ignores how soft your fingers feel as they wrap around his wrist, shoving his watch a few centimeters higher as you do and pulling him down the hall with a leisurely stride.

He whistles lowly at the sight, a hoard of boxes and no homes. It was the perfect size for an office, probably what you were intending, a small desk buried underneath the rubble.

“No shelves, no storage?”

You point at a few larger boxes stowed away in a corner.

“I couldn’t build one of those things without breaking somethin’,” You admit with an aura of embarrassment, “plus I need a power drill and bunch of other shit I don’t have right now, so I’ve been putting it off.”

“I’ll help,” Joel suddenly offers, “Given I can manage a day off soon, but I can come over early and we can knock it out in a day.”

“That’s nice, Joel, but—“

“I don’t need your money and I’m not takin’ no for an answer.” Joel realizes how aggressive that sounds, quickly adjusting his manner of speaking, “You’ve been keepin’ Sarah company when I can’t, let me do this.”

Your eyes soften slightly, head tilted at an angle to admire the almost apologetic look on his face.

“You are too kind, Joel Miller.”

And if he could have the smile engraved into his memory, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I never told you my last name.” Joel looks at you quizzically, eyebrows furrowing.

“Got a piece of your mail the other day by mistake,” You admit, “s’kinda funny considering the situation. I was curious. You still trust me?”

“You are somethin’ else.” He grins. “Can I trust you?”

Flirty Joel was sweet, you liked it. But, it was gone in a flash. Too soon, too quick.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

The part of you that wishes Joel would’ve stayed a little longer that night aches as you lay in bed, dragging your fingertips lightly over your stomach, shirt pushed up near your breasts. It feels ridiculous, pining over your neighbor.

But, even as you fingers dip inside you, explore your body in all the ways you need, a steady pressure over your clit until you’re coming with a soft gasp, the only thing you can picture is Joel—his face, his hands, and the softness of his voice as he calls out to you, comforts you into that deep void of sleep.

Joel ends with a second shower that night when the world is quiet and everyone is already tucked away in bed, climbing into the brisk cold of the water before it even has the chance to heat up, hoping it calms him down. He ends up in a similar predicament, dragging it out until it’s nearly painful as he squeezes the head of his cock, your sweet smile still fresh in his mind. Joel calls out your name as he comes, just as quiet, and he knows he’s fucked.

You don’t see Joel for a couple weeks, outside of a few occasions where you’re greeting him from your yard, albeit taking out the trash or spending time on your front porch as the tail-end of summer was winding down and evenings were becoming cooler.

He seems more preoccupied than usual, smile not always reaching his eyes and you’re wondering if you’ve done something wrong, if he can read the guilt that oozed from you—crushing on a neighbor? Preposterous.

Most of Joel’s own guilt rides on the fact that he’s always busy, it never fails. A screw up at work meant another setback, setbacks meant longer hours and they had been experiencing far too many these days.

He’s stressed about work and bills and everything any normal adult should while also trying to maintain the balance of being a good dad to Sarah. He hates leaving her home alone so often, even though most of the time she would wander next door to the Adlers’ or over to yours, always supplying herself with the company when she needed it.

He greets you on a Sunday morning, mid-October when the Texas heat was still prickly enough to keep you in a tank top and shorts more often than not. He’s already dressed for the job, tattered jeans and an old shirt on his frame, toolbox clutched in his right hand while he rubs the fingertips of his left against the inside of his palm.

Joel looks a little cleaner around the edges, his beard was trimmed, the hair that started to curl over his ears was shorter and tucked behind his ears and he’s taken a shower despite how much work they had ahead of them for the day.

And, hell, it was work.

Joel made it look easy, but the sheer amount of energy needed to put all the furniture together was something you just weren’t equipped with. He’s explaining random things to you—the importance of anchoring things down, keeping things stable by balancing out the weight distribution and why he always marks and rechecks things twice before drilling.

It’s all a completely foreign language, but you can fake the perplexed look on your face as long as needed—you’d nearly mastered it being around an army of tiny children all day, fighting for your attention to show off their new tricks.

“You’ve been sittin’ on this stuff for how long?” Joel asks, eyebrows pulling together in amusement.

“A few months, maybe. Only a couple days after I moved in, really.”

“I work in construction, sweetheart. You could’ve asked.”

It’s the first time Joel lets his fondness slip, a little word that you skim over entirely when his eyes avert away at the realization.

“Well—I mean, you offered.” Like that wasn’t obvious as he kneeled crouch on your floor, jeans spread tight over his thighs, shirt riding up his back as he leaned in to twist the screw in at an awkward angle. His head is nearly touching your knee, legs tucked under you as you watch. “Seems a little too forward if you ask me.”

“And using my address for your packages don’t?”

He’s got you there, chuckling under his breath at your silence. He thinks back to Sarah’s constant nagging, pushing him to get over his own self-loathing and talk to you, or at least make an attempt.

“Sarah thought you were doing it for other reasons.” He admits, rising slowly to rest his palms against his thighs, sweat collecting around his neck, wetting his collar slightly. “Flirting with me, I guess.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” You answer honestly, “I mean, you’re nice to look at but—“

Joel’s eyebrows raise, intrigued.

You shrug, making a noncommittal noise as you hum.

“It’s the first time she’s been really eager about me getting back out there since, ever, I guess.”

It startles you a moment, the revelation, a small glimpse into his real life, the deeper parts—it’s the tiniest crack, but it’s there.

“Can I ask you somethin’, Joel?”

He nods slightly, stuffing away the screwdriver and lifting the stand with ease, resting his forearm against the surface of it.

“Has it always been—shit, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You huff softly, rubbing some sawdust between your fingers, “I guess I’m just tryin’ to say that even if Sarah’s mom isn’t in the picture, for whatever reason, she’s always welcome to come to me for stuff. I remember being that young and losin’ my mind when I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone.”

“Oh, she’s got you hooked.” Joel’s grin grew wide for a moment before softening, “Sarah’s mom, she—I’ve raised that little girl from birth on my own, so she doesn't know anything but her. She doesn’t ask, I’m not gonna force it on here either. But, I’m glad she’s found someone she’s comfortable with.”

There’s a moment of silence that feels like a new connection, a tether tying the two of you together—closer.

“What about you?” Joel asks suddenly, turning the topic of vulnerability and family back toward you. “If you’re comfortable sharin’.”

“Family moved around a lot, my parents traveled for work so it was just me most of the time—boarding schools, weeks by myself during breaks where I was fending for myself, really. My parents always kept me secure financially, but I raised myself.”

Joel sits on that, absorbing the information as you sit a little deeper into the floor, back resting against the front panel of your desk as you shift your legs in front of you, knees bent.

Joel mirrors you after a moment, the soft cream of the ceiling fan filling their air as he leans his head back, enjoying the faint breeze.

“Never wanted kids of my own, either.” You admit, “But, I loved ‘em when they weren’t my own—partially why I started teaching. I just don’t want my kids feeling the way I felt, so if I never have them then…”

Joel understands, fidgeting with his fingers as they rest over his knees.

“I was so young when Sarah came, I didn’t have a clue.”

It’s something you never really thought about, the quickness to grow up at such a young age—not quite a kid but barely stepping into adulthood.

“Well, it seems like you figured it out. She’s got a strong personality but she’s smart, that’s gotta count for something.”

Joel laughs a short, silent noise through his nose, shoulders shaking with the movement. You push away some of the mess from your bare legs, finding that building things was a lot messier than you thought.

“A wet paper towel or washcloth can help,” Joel adds, pointing toward the dusting of wood on the floor, “the rest,” he waves a loose finger toward your hair, pulling at a small piece and flicking it away, “a shower will do just fine.”

Joel glances over your frame briefly, but the gaze he holds is intense, the time that burns even when he finally looks away.

“I can clean this up for you,” Joel offers, “go ahead and take a shower and I’ll be outta your hair before you’re done.”

And you don’t put up a fight, as much as you could have.

The shower feels like heaven after a long day, nearly into late afternoon now and having skipped out on lunch completely—maybe you should offer to feed him as a thank you, knowing he’d never take any money. You hear him moving around outside the door, shuffling with tools, rearranging some of the furniture that was probably a little on the heavier side, falling silent as you finally turned the faucet off.

You should’ve wait a few more seconds, could’ve—you would have missed him completely by then, but you’re wrenching the door open in a hurry to the short distance to your room that was attached to your bathroom, but not before colliding with Joel on the opposite side of the wall as he dug through a cabinet, admittedly a little lost.

“There weren’t any hand towels in the kitchen,” Joel explains calmly when he turns to you, holding his gaze with yours, avoidant of your blatant nakedness as you silently reach for a towel, wrapping it around your frame without a single blink, “I figured—seemed like the second best option…”

He gestures vaguely to the cabinet full of towels.

You nod slowly, speaking evenly, to your own surprise.

“And I was gonna invite you over for dinner, or out—whichever, but that seems a little cliche now, seein’ as you just saw me naked, don’t want you getting the wrong impression.”

“Can’t have that,” Joel nods, agreeable, the remnants of smug grin catching the corner of his mouth, “can we?”

It takes every last ounce of self control to keep you from making a mistake, beg him to take you there—wherever, on the floor, the counter, the bed just some several feet away in the adjoining room.

“I’ll just…finish cleanin’ up and see myself out,” Joel nods, letting his gaze drag down slightly, fingers tightening around the towel instinctively—for your own good, “sorry ‘bout all this.”

You nod slightly in response, wracking your brain with any reason you could give to keep him here a second longer, convince yourself to stop being so scared of putting yourself out there.

It wasn’t lost on you that Joel seemed interested. He’s got that look that lingers when you’re around, always catching glances when he thinks your attentions drawn somewhere else—you see it in the early mornings when you’re leaving for work now, less before you had gotten to know him, and the soften in his voice when he talks to you lately, it’s comforting; he feels safer allowing himself to relax around you now, free of any judgment.

But, he’s also never made any attempt to cross those boundaries, polite to a default and sometimes his own demise—until now, something telling him to go for it.

“But, if you were wanting to treat me to a nice meal,” There’s a calmness to his tone, that same drip of snark you always had toward him but teasing in a way that made your body run warm all over, “Sarah’s spending the night a few blocks over with a girl on her soccer team, so—a little peace and quiet, some dinner,” Joel shrugs, arm raising up to lean against your frame of the door, palm pressed high and fingers tapping along the woods, “it does sound like a fair trade. For the work.”

And whatever he’s trying for, it’s successful.

Hell, you would’ve ended up finding your way over there somehow, but the fact that Joel’s reciprocating and in a way that almost seems playful, it’s too good to pass up on no matter how stubborn you wanted to be to cover the embarrassment you were feeling right now.

Sure, for the work.

“Deal.”

It doesn’t take long for you and Joel to settle on something simpler than some meal that would take too long, too much work, and it was glaringly obvious from the moment you arrived at Joel’s front door that neither of you gave a shit about dinner or deals or paying him back for the work he did.

Whatever was lingering between you now was bigger, much bigger than it had been before and impossible to ignore.

But, the attempt at small talk is nice—a slice or two of pizza into dinner and you’re settled on his couch, legs crossed and facing him fully with his leg stretched out and resting on the coffee table settled a few feet away. He’s no more dressed down than usual, a pair of jeans (arguably one of his cleaner pairs) and a loose shirt that’s design had faded, probably from years and years of wear. You settled for something similar, comfortable, a knitted blanket slung around your shoulders for comfort.

“Cold?” He asks around a bite.

One word. A simple question, but it feels like an answer to so much more. An excuse, even.

“A little,” You nod, punctuating the answer by pulling the blanket over your shoulder more, knees rising to huddle your body closer to yourself, “it’s not that bad.”

“Let me turn the heat up,” Joel’s standing before you can respond, messing with the small panel on the wall, pointing toward the vent settled conveniently above the couch, “feel it?”

You reach a hand out feebly, waiting for the rush of hot air that never comes. You shake your head slightly, rising on your knees slightly, waddling yourself forward until it finally hits you, closer to Joel’s original spot as he returns, settling back in the same position as before, though you’re much closer in proximity now.

You snort softly, falling back on the heels of your bare feet, palms pressing into the tops of your thighs in an attempt to keep the height you had on Joel currently, the smugness in your expression unavoidable.

He’s got his left arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers curling and straightening in a subconscious movement, food forgotten on the table, his eyes dragging toward yours lazily, the buzz of the television filling whatever silence was settling between you two.

Joel is playing oh, so innocent—you can see right through it.

“Smooth,” You can give him some credit, he’s got you closer—not where he wants you or needs you, but he can touch you if he wants, right now, yet still, “how long did you think that over in your head?”

“An hour,” He admits sheepishly, eyes squinting with the half-hearted smile that stretches his face, “pathetic, right?”

You shrug indifferently, settling in deeper, more comfortably. The shift in your movements has your knees pressed against his thighs, hands settling in your lap and just a few inches from his own. There’s a small tear in your jeans that Joel can see, right against the bend of your knee—he’s got the urge to touch you, so he does.

His touch is rough, warm, all calloused from hard work but containing the hominess you crave so deep in your bones.

“I can let it slide,” You assure him, fingers inching closer to his, the width of his palm covering your kneecap now, a slow, precarious movement as your fingers slip over his own, wrapping around his wrist and feeling the faint thrum of his pulse as it quickens, “if you’ll do something for me.”

It's been weeks of build up, unnecessary tension between the two of you that threatened to spill anytime one of you moved to close to the other, a simple touch in passing or looks that dragged on too long.

“‘Course, anything.”

The admission comes quickly. He doesn’t even need to think it over. He’s staring more intently, the shadows of his face changing with every flashing picture on the screen several feet away.

“Stop torturing me,” You supply softly, guiding his hand between your legs until his knuckles bump against your center, a soft squeeze to your thigh as his fingers fit comfortably against your body, his brain mapping out how the levels of his touch affect you, “you take me to your room,” it’s your turn to reach for him, fingers leaving his wrist to trace alone his thigh in return, though stretching past the the button of his jeans to find the soft skin of his abdomen under his shirt and dragging over his stomach delicately until he can’t stand it anymore, using his free hand to lock yours in place, pulling your attention to his face once more and away from the slow rise and fall of his breathing, “and you fuck me.”

Joel frowns slightly, the creases in his forehead becoming a little deeper, the beginnings of his crows feet wrinkling around his eyes and he’s trading the spot where his hand is cuddle against the apex of your thighs to slip his fingers under your jaw, tracing the fragile lines of your face until he can cradle your cheek gently, using the pad of his thumb to press on your chin, guiding your face down to look at him, and somehow pulling you impossibly closer.

“Fuck you?” He questions, eyes searching yours briefly, tongue swiping at his bottom lip, “No—no, that’s not how I do things, sweetheart.”

You smile under his touch, watching as he mirrors those emotions and urges you toward him and over his lap, large palms holding steady at your waist. You filter your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, tracing until you reach the shell of his ear, playing with the short tuft of hair that curls behind it, his eyes watching your movements carefully.

“Care to enlighten me?”

Joel chuffs out a laugh, short and brimming with a darkness that wasn’t there before, using the leverage he has to lean forward and secure you on his lap until you’re hanging by a thread over his knees, letting out a small yelp at the change in position that quickly dissipates into laughter.

“Darlin’, I’d rather show you.”

There’s a certain giddiness to your energies as you clumsily climb your way up the steps, Joel suddenly a lot more handsy than earlier as he grips at your hips, your thighs, pulling you in for quick, fleeting touches that tickle and have your breath catching in your throat until you can finally break away, nearly tripping into his bedroom before he catches you with a swift hand, shoving the door closed with his heel as he closes in on you, pulling your legs up around his hips in one heft of a motion, arm slung around your backside while the other paws at your thighs, make the small trek to his bed and resting you down slowly, chest heaving with a quickness.

A sudden dip in the bed has your ass nearing the edge but his legs are there to catch you, knees barely pressing against the end of the mattress while he reaches for the button on your pants wordlessly aside from the gaze he’s holding with you, his expression is rather flat (a little concentrated even) and he’s popping it open with ease, thick fingers sneaking around the waistband and tugging until there’s nothing left but a small snag at your ankle that he wrangles quickly, soothing the spot after with his thumb.

“M’sorry about earlier, again,” Joel finds himself apologizing, “never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable around me.”

“I wasn’t—I’m not,” It’s something you’re sure of, more so that anything right now, “I could’ve cleaned up the mess myself.”

Joel shrugs, large palm spreading over the width of your hips, thumbs pressed gently into the ridge of your hip bones as he folds your legs in closer from where they’re hooked around his own waist, the soft cotton dragging against denim and igniting a deep yearning that could only be satiated once he was inside you—it’s what you were hoping for, urging him closer with your foot as you nudged him forward.

“And you were so respectful,” You comment coyly, tilting your head up at him as you reach for the fabric of his shirt, grinding the wet heat of your cunt against the front of his jeans for friction, bottom lip pulled between your lip momentarily when it feels just a little too good, “didn’t even try to take a look, did you?”

Joel laughs quietly, a short huff through his nose when he shakes his head, “I tried—god, did I try—”

His thumbs dip lower, under the waistband over your underwear while his fingertips slide under your shirt, rubbing against the soft skin of your belly, your own hands coming down to claim his, pulling them higher until they settle over your breasts, completely bare underneath.

“I’ve been picturing it since I got home,” Joel admits, glancing up at the ceiling briefly in a desperate plea when he touches the bare skin, nipples pebbling against his touch and he squeezes greedily before he finally has the courage to look at you, watching as you pull the top over your head casually, “you’re poisonin’ my mind, sweetheart.”

It’s a compliment wrapped in some form of emotion you can’t decipher as his mouth drops open an inch, rubbing his thumb over the soft bud of your nipple until you grow impatient, a small whine of protest leaving your mouth as you reach the short distance between your bodies to rub against the swell of his jeans, “Not just that I hope.”

“You really want me to fuck you?” Joel asks sweetly, a little condescending with the way it’s delivered as he glares down at you, his touching lingering from your breasts as he slides a thumb over your clothed cunt, a gentle pressure against your clit until your breath stutters at the sensation. He says your name softly, a warning for your attention to be brought back to him. “Hey, need you with me—you like that? Getting fucked?”

You squeeze him firmly until it forces a chuckle out of his chest, his hand squeezing around your thigh to pull you taut, rocking his hips into the touch before swatting your hand away and working at his belt, jeans, everything keeping him constrained until he can finally reach his cock, working his boxers half away down his thighs and reaching for your hand again, wrapping your softer, less overworked hands around his dick until it registers in your head what he wants, his hand a guiding light as he builds a slow rhythm, squeezing your grip until it’s just right.

“Usually, yeah,” You nod, using your touch to admire every last bit of him, thumb drifting over the head of his cock as you squeeze tight, letting him buck into your touch impatiently—he’s breathing hard through his nose, eye contact more intense now that it ever has been, staring down at your over the bridge of his nose, all beautiful and godlike, sculpted to perfection, “feels good.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s been months. But it has. Almost a year, truthfully, and just by the quick glance you take at him—nothing compares. He doesn’t make a big deal about it, talk himself up like he’s everything you need. He wants to hear what you like, what you want.

“I can do that,” He obliges and suddenly his hand is hit against your folds, middle finger spreading you open gently, pressing against your opening testingly, “do what you like—or we can do things my way.”

“Your—your way?” You gasp softly, nodding without hearing what he has to say, “Yeah—fuck, your way is fine.”

“Didn’t even let me talk, sweet girl.” Joel remarks smugly.

But, it doesn’t matter. The second his finger breaches you fully it’s nothing but white noise, his thumb working just as tentatively at your clit.

Joel drones on anyways, his voice like a warm current as it guides you into a state of calm.

“I’ll get you there, real close, just like this,” He nudges his fingers against a soft spot inside of you that has your eyes squeezing shut, choking off a moan as you squeeze tight around his cock, hands moving a lot less now that he had you distracted, but Joel didn’t mind, “then I’ll fuck you, slow…hard, whatever you like, okay?” And there comes your name again, a bouy pulling you back to the surface as you nod, “But, fuck if I don’t take my time with you—I’m gonna save her for last,” He slips another finger in silently before pulling out and rubs the collected slick over your clit in a couple quick movements, “show her all the attention she deserves, right?”

“Joel,” You whine—a beg, a plea, just another reason to say his name so desperately, “Joel, please.”

“I gotcha,” He comforts, lifting a knee up to rest against the mattress, shifting your leg higher and switching up the angle entirely as it forces his fingers in deeper as he pushes back in, “relax, breathe, lean into it, baby.”

Letting yourself go, he means. The baby is an afterthought and maybe he doesn’t mean anything by it, but it doesn’t fail to send a flutter through your insides and somehow calm you in the same instance.

And really, nothing compares. He’s attentive in a way that’s new to you, never something you’ve experienced in the past and maybe it helps that he’s got a few years on you, or more experience, but it’s addictive—he’s got a hold on you that you can’t seem to break.

He listens to the way your breath buckles when he rubs your clit a little too fast, clearly nearing your edge quicker than he or you would like, but he knows just when to stop and slow down, fill you full of his fingers and keep you wanting more. He sees the subtle pull of your brow when he drags it on longer than you’re used to, that’s when he finally pulls away.

“Joel, can’t—“ You breath out tiredly, eyes closed and resting as you catch your breath, his hands nudging yours away from his cock as it bounces against his stomach, quickly shoving his jeans and underwear the rest of the way down, “want you inside, need you to fuck me like you—you said—“

He rubs a comforting hand against your stomach, up your sternum until he’s flat against the center of your chest and you’re looking at him again, more focused this time around.

“Scoot up,” He tells you softly, nodding while he reaches behind his head, yanking his shirt over his head in one fluid act, “get comfortable, sweetheart.”

He’s unabashed and cool in the way he holds himself before you, yielding a vulnerability that he never would’ve had with you if he hadn’t gotten to know to you more, if he didn’t have the chance to—he walks around the bed and to his nightstand a few feet away, admittedly littered in either dirty clothes or laundry he hadn’t put away yet, rustling through one of his top drawers for something you can only assume, his bare ass on display and in perfect view.

It’s something to admire, firm and toned from the heavy lifting and upkeep he kept on his body, through work and exercise, the muscles in his backs molding to each move he made as he stretched, rolling a tight shoulder as he closed the blinds a little tighter, turning to you then and switching on his bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow that leaves you nowhere to hide from him.

Not that you felt the need to anymore. Maybe a few weeks ago, but definitely not now.

“Here,” He’s adjusting a pillow underneath your head as you lean forward, assuring you’re comfort as you nod to his waiting look, eyebrow raised slightly, “do you—I can turn that off if you want?” He rubs a curious hand down your chest again, clambering to settle between your legs as he kneels, cock hanging heavy between you as he rips the foil open quietly with his opposite hand, the other again, curious as he palms your breast, pointer finger dragging along the swell of it as he traces down to the underside, “I just—I like seein’ you.”

“It’s fine, Joel.” You answer him, stalling his movements with your touch as you trap his hand, watching as he spits away the foil and rolls the condom over his cock with ease, stroking languidly until he feels secure, somehow making the moment even more tender as he winds his fingers through your loose ones, subconsciously asking for the touch as he smile when your eyes catch his gaze.

“You let me know what you need,” He orders kindly, though there’s a sternness behind it, “I’ll be damned if you’re not gettin’ what you want, alright?”

You nod, inhaling silently on the first press of his head against your cunt, his shaft sliding against the center and coating in your wetness before he’s pushing in with a carefulness that’s indicated through the tight grip you have on his hand, loosening when he finally bottoms out.

Joel groans low, quiet, savoring how tight you’re gripping him in the moment, pulsating with need from how hard he’d edged you to near orgasm. He’s thankful, for once, because he’s not sure he has much will power to hold off either.

“Slow,” He reminds you, a gentle rock of his hips as he focuses his attention toward the point where you two meet, watching the way you pull him in with greed, fingers once twisted between his fingers now clawing tightly at the sheets, “shit—it’s been too long.”

You nod knowingly, other hand shifting to put space between you and the headboard, placing opposite pressure against the wood with your hand, in turn allowing you to gain some leverage and work yourself easier against Joel, whatever slow place he was going for quickly dissolving into madness, hands wild and gripping at whatever flesh it could reach.

“Oh, hell.” Joel groans, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut for his own good, fingers digging into your thighs so he can fuck himself into you with fervor, your moans quickly morphing into pleas for, “more, more—please, Joel.”

“Gimme your hand,” He gruffs out, voice scratchy and raw, guiding your fingers until they lock around the back of your thigh, pushing until you’re spread wide and he’s guiding your other leg over his chest, ankle resting against his shoulder as he pulls out without warning to adjust himself, “you’re gonna hold yourself open, baby—keep yourself open for me.”

And then he’s sliding back in with no preamble or words of comfort, just a desperate slide of his body against your own, seeking to be back inside you.

The angle is almost unbearable this way, teetering on the edge of too much but whatever words you’re trying to form in your head aren’t making sense, eyes locked on Joel—all of him; his face and the subtle way his forehead creases, mouth dropping open wider when you clench down on him, gasping through every thrust of his hips, and his chest in the way it flexes as he pulls you tighter, biceps flexing as he strains, his own self control breaking down piece by piece. You’re mostly mesmerized by the way this angle gives an almost perfect view to watch him fuck up into you, the veins running along the side of his cock and how careful he is too pull all the way out before he’s driving you insane with the forceful thrusts he gives as he returns, his eyes flicking up briefly when he catches you staring.

“Oh, fuck—“ He huffs through a laugh, your name falling from his lips once more, “sweetheart, you’ve got no clue how good you feel.”

He moans a little louder, unrestrained and rough, almost like he’s growling with every sharp snap of his hips and it’s driving you insane, that subtle throb of need turning into an ache that had to be soothed.

“Joel…” You call out to him, sounding soft and broken.

He’s right there with you, ripping your hand away from where it’s latched to your thigh and bringing it between your legs, feeling exactly how wet you were for him, his thumb covering your own as he helped you start a steady rhythm against your clit.

“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” Joel notes, voice sounding even more strained, his grip growing tighter as he seeked to wrap you around him more, more, more, leaving your hand to wrap around the back of your thighs and push you apart, “I got you—come for me. Think you can do that?”

You nod absently, feeling like you were falling into a trance, a dark void that was just you and him and nothing else, touching yourself with an urgency that didn’t let up, fingers immediately speeding up when his hands moved away and he sees it, the desperation.

Joel chuckles to himself, a noise that breaks you from the haze as your eyes creep open, watching how he admired you openly with no shame, “Fuck—you really need it, don’t you?”

You can hear yourself, him—that wet squelch of arousal, skin against skin as he fucks into you with no restraint. You nod again, a quick jerky movement as you feel that familiar heat in your belly build, “Yesyes—god, Joel.”

And Joel soothes you every step of the way as it finally hits you, his hands giving your thighs that desperate relief they needed as he pulls you close, a hand cupping the back of your neck firm and tilting your chin up, lips dragging along yours without taking the step to press against them for a full kiss, a intimate moment of breathing against one another while Joel follows a few moments later, his hips rocking to a slow halt as he rides through the force of his orgasm, groaning deeply against your mouth as you feel everything calm around you, the soft hum of the fan on his dresser pulling you back to earth.

You want to kiss him so badly, watching him pull away for a brief second to check in with you, eyes scanning your face for anything—but you’re tired of overthinking so you do it, no second guessing, no worrying, cupping his face gently and pulling him in for a long, but simple kiss that feels like it could go on for eternity. He melts into it instantly, the firm grip on your neck softening to cradle your face, one of you (though, maybe both) eventually coming up for air with grins wider than you’ve ever seen.

There’s nothing left to do but feel it, both of you laughing into each other’s skin and that small snort of amusement slipping from you, feeling Joel mumble something against your collarbone but not asking him to repeat it, watching him smile to himself again as he rises on steady legs to dispose of the condom.

“How are you even—“ You giggle softly, rubbing a gentle hand over your face and through your hair, watching as he retreats toward his ensuite bathroom to retrieve something small, a tiny towel as he wipes up the last remnants of mess around you and his own body, but not yet reaching for you, “my legs are shaking, can you—“ You reach weakly for the towel.

But, he’s spreading out between your legs before you can protest, that smug fucking look on his face as he tosses the towel to the side and waits for you to finish.

You never do.

“Didn’t forget, did you?” Joel asks, eyebrows raised in question. “I’m takin’ my time, sweetheart.”

And the night lends all the time in the world, watching with a sated grin and tired eyes as Joel presses a kiss to your core and dives in, finding every last bit of you to taste, devour, savor in the off chance he never gets to experience this again.

“Pussy’s fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.” He murmurs—and how he manages to make that sound so endearing despite how depraved it actually is, you’ll never know.

He also really loves when you play with his hair, the delicate traces of your fingertips as you take through his soft tufts of brown and pull when things get a little too intense.

Joel brings you to a slow, but satisfying second orgasm that has you whining at how intense it feels after the first, gasping when his tongue works you through it and nearly has you cursing his name in a plea to stop, but he pulls away at the perfect moment, careful as he cleans you up now, not a word shared until he’s settled in the bed beside you, reaching to pull at the lamp string and let the room succumb to darkness.

Part of your brain thinks this should feel strange—screwing your neighbor after he’s been helping you out for weeks and building your furniture for free (technically), but Joel’s mind is elsewhere, rubbing softly at your side as he turns you in bed, pulling the sheets up over you both despite your obvious states of undress, clearly too tired to go searching for your clothes.

You want to make an excuse to leave. You do, but Joel quickly squashes that worry of making things weird by staying.

You can't see face but you hear him, lips brushing the top of your head as he speaks in a soft tone, “Sleep here,” He encourages you, but adding a quick, “if you want—only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Tommy’s pickin’ Sarah up for me in the morning,” He tells you, sensing your hesitation of an uncomfortable face to face the next morning, and you voice that to him softly, “don’t worry, I can sneak you out if it comes to that.”

Joel lends a soft touch to your thighs, still sore and shot from earlier as he squeezes the flesh gently.

“M’not gonna fuck you like that and let you leave,” and that shouldn’t make you feel the way it does, leaning into his touch a little further, wanting more, but it does, “somethin’ about you relaxes me, can’t put my finger on it.”

“The mind-blowing sex to start,” You joke lightly, speaking softly to him despite the empty house, “among other things.”

Joel’s laugh is the last thing you hear before you both lose the battle to exhaustion, curled around one another.

Tommy catches you in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee before you even realize he’s inside, quiet as a mouse as Sarah trods up behind him and beyond, waving a quick greeting with no outward comment or acknowledgement on why you were here, at the Miller residence, somehow stuck in the middle of their morning routine as they readied for work around you.

“My brother?” He asks with a smile, polite but amused.

“Bathroom, shower.” You answer, watching him nod, digesting the context clues and laughing to himself.

You hand him a cup wordlessly, filling the coffee for him.

“Didn’t think he had it in ‘em.” Tommy comments off-handedly, blowing out a faint puff through his lips as he shakes his head, dipping his head into the fridge in search of breakfast.

Joel saves you soon after, walking you back to your house without a word to his brother aside from a quick shared look, one that reads him getting teased to all he’ll later.

There’s a silent agreement that’s made as Joel backs you against your front door, tilting your chin up briefly to press a chaste kiss to the side of your jaw, not quite your lips, not quite your cheek, but still somehow more sensual than it should be.

“I’ve got a lot of fixin’ to do, still,” You admit, “could really use your help—if you’re still offerin’.”

“At your service, sweetheart.”

Tommy’s waiting eagerly in the kitchen when Joel returns, digging into a blueberry muffin like an animal.

“You are so screwed, brother.”

And Joel knows it’s true.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #my writing

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heesdreamer · 1 year

Text

off the ice

PAIRING ➩ sunghoon x reader

SUMMARY ➩ dubbed ‘ice princess’ at an early age for you ice skating skills, you face the biggest challenge of your career when you’re paired with your rival for a competition dance.

GENRE ➩ rivals to lovers enemies to lovers

WARNINGS ➩ suggestive content, abusive figures and strict career lifestyle mentions.

WC ➩ 17.1k

DISCLAIMER : im not citing this as sunghoons personal experience with training or his career and im not making light of the abuse that goes on in the ice skating field and the strict dieting and lifestyle. also side note i literally don’t know a single technical term for skating tricks or competitions so this is my limited descriptive talented and googled information lol (not proofread)

The human body was something you’d never quite been able to grasp completely. It’s rules for right and wrong, it’s reactions to certain stimuli. The way it can bend and twist but not break yet one small accident can ruin it forever.

There was nothing you dreaded more than having that type of accident. It plagued your mind from early morning to late night, what ways you could avoid getting hurt.

Ironic considering your lifestyle choices seemed to bring nothing but hurt, only in the shape of bruised limbs and sore muscles.

Since you were 4 years old, your entire existence had been devoted to one thing. One single thing in your frame of sight, one thing that would determine your future and if you succeeded as a prodigy or failed as an old hobbyist.

On your fourth Christmas your mother had gifted you a small box that was wrapped tightly with a pretty purple bow. At that age you were, of course, more interested in the packaging itself than the contents inside it.

Little did you know, your whole entire growing life form was sitting inside the small box and you were en route to become a prodigy in the making.

For the next 15 years you spent everyday on the ice. Obviously retiring the tiny pair of skates that was hidden behind the old purple bow, you’d gone through dozens of pairs are you grew and the stitching began to fade and tear.

Throughout your school years, you lost yourself in a daze of studying followed by practice followed by studying followed by more practice. You, impressively, managed to keep a small hand full of friends despite the constant look of disappointment you’d face after canceling hangouts.

Then you were graduating, and with a big smile on your face, flowers in hand, you prepared to take a deep breath in and start your life with a blank state. The way you wanted it to be.

You scowled at the memory now as your hands smacked against the cold ice, shavings from the skid of your blade sneaking their way under your gloves and sleeves. Your deep breath of relief had been cut short by the icy chill and reminder that what you had been training for, didn’t end at adulthood.

“That’s the third time you’ve missed that.” Your coach was declaring from off on the side of the rink, ringing her hands together and peering down at you.

You didn’t mind Coach Suzy, if anything she was miles better than dealing with your mothers remarks and insults, but her need to point out the obvious wasn’t your favorite quirk of hers.

Pushing off from the ice back onto your skates, you held your scowl and did a loop around the rink to get back into the motion of it. Three tries without success was, in your standards at least, a complete failure. Your mother would be having a complete public fit if she had found the time to come today.

You simply haven’t, and did not, lose and you weren’t planning on making a late habit of it. Throughout your career you were quickly dubbed a skater to be on the lookouts for, a growing prodigy with a burning passion and a unique sense of style, the Princess of the Ice.

So to be stood here with ice under your nails like a complete amateur, was unacceptable. You furrowed your brows and prepared to send off again, picking up speed and hopefully enough momentum to complete the one jump you’d never had luck with.

Your coach’s whistle stopped you in your tracks and you turned your skate against the ice, stopping abruptly and glaring towards her in confusion. Upon the sight of her, and her newfound companion, your shoulders were deflating with annoyance and exhaustion.

Stood on her side, leaning against the railing and watching you with a half smirk and a skate digging into the ice below him, was none other than Park Sunghoon.

Park Sunghoon had begun his training around the same time as you and you two had immediately been put into comparison, despite the difference in genders never actually leading you to competing. Although, you didn’t need to be in front of judges to compete with each other.

He oozed natural talent and charisma, his body light in the air and swift on the ice. He was quickly named the best skater in your area and he’d yet to lose the title, with you always following a close second. The Ice Prince was spreading throughout the whispers of judges and growing fandoms and to make matters worse for you, he was completely humble.

“Making slushees princess?” His low mocking voice floating across the ice towards you reminded you immediately that humble, did not mean he was kind.

Quite the opposite actually. You and Sunghoon had both fully taken on the position of rivals in training and performance, paying more attention to each others marks than the ones of the girls you actually were being ranked against.

So despite your mutual popularity and matching affectionate nicknames given by the public, you’d yet to do any sort of collaborative stage or paired competition. Until this years national competition.

You came to a slow skate as you approached the two of them, doing a small spin before clumsily falling back against the railing and taking a deep breath. Your coach smiled over at you and your antics before putting on her serious face.

“It’s only three months before the competition guys and I know it’s not what either of you wanted and it’s a short timeframe but I need practice to start within the week.”

The practice and competition she was referring to was the fact your worst nightmare had come true last month when another soloist from your district was chosen to represent at this years comp. You had no idea why she was picked over you considering you routinely ranked higher than her but what’s done is done.

You had come to terms with the fact you wouldn’t be competing for the first time in your life, almost feeling a strange sense of relief at the thought, when Coach Suzy dropped the bomb on you that you were instead selected for the pair dance.

You weren’t completely unfamiliar with skating with a partner, doing some casual dances in low scale showcases and once or twice in an actually competition, but you had a bad gut feeling about who your partner would be judging by her hesitance.

And looking back over to his smirking face now, that same nasty gut feeling was sinking back in.

It wasn’t the actual performance you were necessarily worried about, Sunghoon was no doubt talented and he had more experience with partners than you. It was the enforced effort that not strangling each other everyday was going to take, that was stressing you out.

——

It was 4am and you were sat in the center of the rink, the cold ice against your legs and back wasn’t bothering you much, only a slight distraction as you read through the script and guide for your expected performance.

Your brows were furrowed as you flipped through the pages swiftly, nearly tearing them with the force you moved them. So focused in on the words in front of you, you didn’t even notice the sounds of the gates squeaking until a skate was in front of you.

Without glancing up, you sighed and flipped the booklet closed, raising it up in an attempt to hand it to the boy standing over you. You studied his signature skates with annoyance, furthering when he didn’t take the paper from you.

“I’ve read it.” He explained and you finally looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were tired but also seemed to be studying your reaction to the materiel. You briefly wondered if he was having a late night or an early morning as you drifted your gaze to his tight black turtleneck down to his sport pants.

“Is she kidding with this?” You scoffed and pushed off your hands so you were standing with him now. He didn’t say anything, watching as you tugged down your sweater and wiped your hands off on the thick fabric. “It’s like sex on ice.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.” He offered with a raised eyebrow and he laughed when you turned your sharp glare towards him. “It’s a staple, you know it is. And besides it’s a big deal that the ice royalty are performing together.”

You didn’t miss the hint of disdain in his voice at the audience given title and you once again found yourself admiring his humbleness, despite it seemingly border-lining on insecurity occasionally.

“Why are you here?” You found yourself asking before you even realized you were starting to speak, you pushed off into a slow skate in a loop around him and he spun softly in place to watch you as you circled him.

He shrugged softly, the sharp line of his shoulders raising and falling and you quirked an eyebrow at his lack of answer. Eventually he sighed and spoke again. “I just come here sometimes..”

Immediately you understood what he meant and why he’d be at the rink at these hours. The same reasons why instead of studying at home, you were sprawled against the cold ice that was natural for you.

Sunghoon and you had never seen eye to eye but you were undoubtedly living a lifestyle that not many people your age could relate to, and that was clear to you as you spent the earliest years of your life searching for somebody who could even half understand that reasoning behind why, sometimes, the only place to go was the skating center.

“Did you want to practice what you’ve read so far or just talk.” His sharp tone was seeping into his words again, switching the atmosphere immediately and you frowned for a second before remembering who you were talking with. You scowled and laid back onto the ice, the starting position of your dance.

“On your side” He said lowly as he laid down next to you, a few inches between you. You nodded, accepting that he understood the choreography better than you, and turned towards him. Your eyes followed down the slope of his nose to his eyes that were staring at the ceiling.

It felt strange to lay on the ice in such a vulnerable position and even stranger to be laying next to Park Sunghoon.

“Don’t face me idiot.” He was sighing, without looking at you, and you groaned and turned onto your other side.

“Music cue.” You whispered and he hummed in agreement. The first part of your performance was no doubt the most awkward for you, you understood the physical contact that came with stunts and pair skating but this felt unnecessary and strange.

You rolled your body across the ice closer to Sunghoon until you were climbing overtop of him, both arms out and caging his body so you didn’t touch. He was holding in a laugh as he watched you and you glared down at him.

“This is so stupid.” You muttered and and completed the roll so you were now laying on his right side, close enough to touch now. The position didn’t last long because his next move was to do a similar roll overtop of you, pulling you up with him to a standing position.

“It’s romantic.” He repeated his teasing words from earlier but they felt a lot more intimate now that he was laying on top of you, peering down at you from under his floppy bangs. You suddenly felt the urge to kick him off of you.

“Raise your chest up.” He instructed and you did so robotically causing him to pause and glare at you. “At least attempt to look graceful.”

You groaned and flopped back down against the ice, taking a breath and counting to three before once again sitting up slightly, this time putting more emotion behind your movements.

He nodded softly as he swiftly jumped to a stand over you at the same time you moved, his hands coming up behind you to rest on your shoulder blades. He was awkwardly bent over you in a frozen position, thinking about the next move.

“I forgot.” He mumbled and you sighed, pushing him backwards on his skates and bringing yourself up to stand instead of relying on him.

“I thought you read it genius.” You growled and circled back around to your abandoned script, flipping open the first page and studying it. You glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow at the zoned out look on his face. “I wrap my arms around your neck.”

He seemed to snap out of his gaze and looked over at you quickly. “Yeah then I lift you, I remember.”

You sighed and shook your head in his direction, ignoring the quirk of his dark eyebrow and obvious confusion at your motion. Without another word you turned and started skating back towards the edge of the rink, preparing to silently call it a night and start again tomorrow at practice.

“So that’s all you’ve got then?” You ignored his voice as it echoed from across the ice, by now you were far to use to his quick one lined remarks to truly let it have any effect on you. “Didn’t realize you were so content with losing princess.”

The sound of the ice under your skate was almost deafening as you turned your foot and squealed to a stop, ice flakes kicking up onto your ankles from the force of the abrupt brake.

You spun around and were back in his space in seconds, eyes burning from under your sweaty bangs and he stared down at you with amusement and that competitive fire you were used to seeing from him.

“I don’t lose Park.” You were spitting the words in his direction, the tips of your skates brushing against his with a soft clank that went unheard. You lifted a hand towards his chest and jabbed a finger onto the fabric of his turtleneck, causing him to softly rock backwards a few centimeters. “And I won’t start now so get your shit together and reread the script.”

——

Some mornings you felt almost robotic in the way you could wake up and be at practice before you even registered brushing your teeth, a quick blur of familiarity and installed routine.

Other mornings you wondered how much it would hurt to have to peel your skin from off your mattress, the imagery being the most accurate representation of how it felt to wake up and actually get started.

You were falling somewhere in the middle today, trudging through the lobby of the sports center with puffy eyes and jutted out lips to match. Marching past Coach Suzy, you ignored her furrowed brows.

“What is with the two of you today?” She was calling from behind you and you didn’t need to ask her what she was talking about, catching sight of the other half of her reference already out on the ice and wearing the same clothes from when you’d last saw him. You suppose your question of late night or early morning was answered now.

After you had laced up your skates and pushed out onto the ice, he offered you a quick nod of subtle acknowledgment.

“What.. no morning princess?” You admit you were grumbling as you skated past him, planning to warm up with a few loops around the rink. He caught up to you as you started, skating backwards so he could face you.

“I knew you secretly liked it.” His retort caused you to scoff and turn your eyes into a glare, although you both noted the lack of usual serious intensity. You were too tired to go back and forth with him today and judging off the darkness under his eyes, he was in a similar boat.

“She’s going to run us into the ground today.” You replied with instead, a subtle warning in your voice and he quirked an eyebrow at the casual conversation you were initiating.

“Looking forward to it princess.”

——

You were regretting not taking your own warning more seriously, hours had passed and most the other skaters at the center had packed up and went home, sparing you and your partner a pity filled glance as they left.

Coach Suzy had been relentlessly instructing you repeat and repeat the steps until they were perfection, even stopping you a few dozens times before you’d even completed the first move citing it was “messy and emotionless”.

“Where’s the chemistry.” She was shouting from the sidelines and you sighed loudly from your place above Sunghoon, he was holding you up by your waist for one of the smaller stunts and you felt him peering up at you. “There’s no passion.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You heard Sunghoon muttering as he gently set you back down onto the ice before, not so gently, kicking it with his blade in frustration.

You were standing still on the ice, taking a deep breath and resting your head back to look up at the glass ceiling above you, seeing the blue hue of the sun finishing setting. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and brought your attention back to your coach.

“Tell us how to fake it and we will.” You told her earnestly. You were frustrated that she wasn’t allowing you to fully practice the moves with eachother, despite understanding the need for a show of emotion to capture the audience, what was the point if you fell on your ass during a poorly practiced stunt.

“You can’t fake chemistry princess.” As much as you admired and respected your coach for the years of her life she dedicated towards you and your career, you couldn’t help but flinch at the way she spat the title at you. Her tone was almost mocking as frustration got the best of her.

Sunghoon came into frame, skating forward and placing himself in front of you. You couldn’t see his face but judging by the way your coach’s features softened over his shoulder, you imagined his expression showed he wasn’t happy with the way she was speaking to you.

“I don’t mean to be like this.” She shook her head and wrung her mittened hands together. “There’s lots of reasons here why it’s important for you kids to win…. Stuff we can talk about soon.”

Neither of you spoke for a bit, staring at her off in the distance and still catching your breaths from the intense practice. Sunghoon turned his head to look at you from over his shoulder and you nearly smiled at the familiar fire in his gaze. You nodded at him in confirmation.

“Don’t worry, we’re winning.”

——

“What part of this are you not fucking understanding.” Sunghoon’s irritated yell was hitting the back of your head as you skated a bit away in anger, taking deep breaths and attempting to not escalate the situation. “It’s a simple cascade down, it’s not even a stunt.”

“I understand it asshole.” You were spinning around to face him, your voice coming out loud and bouncing across the ice. “Maybe if you supported me better it’d be easier to want to drop down.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, watching you with downturned eyes behind his messy bangs and catching his breath slightly. Then he was shaking his head and skating towards the edge of the ice, opening the gate and looking back at you expectantly.

You watched him with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl, not understanding what he was silently insinuating or why you would cut practice short after only 6 hours. Only two days had past since the talk with your coach and if anything, you’ve only gotten more hostile towards each other.

“Let’s go.” He eventually spoke with a sigh, annoyed he had to spell it out to you. “I know a place that’s open.”

The place he was referring to was apparently a 24 hour diner placed just two blocks from the center. You’d never seen it before and this didn’t surprise you considering you rarely went anywhere besides practice and home and even more rarely ate out.

You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about eating out somewhere that seemingly only served classic American grease fest and milkshakes, but Sunghoon seemed comfortable and relaxed as he slid into the booth opposite you.

You were questioning now if you’d ever seen him look so casual. Sure, he was known to be friendly and he obviously was no stranger to jokes and teasing but if you saw him here any other time, you’d think he was just a regular student without a care.

This left a weird pit in your stomach considering the fact he wasn’t a regular student and neither were you, and acting like one wouldn’t do you any good when it came to your future or this competition.

Still your thoughts fizzled out when the older waitress wandered over to your table, pocketing her order book with familiarity as she looked at the boy sat across from you.

“Sunghoon, it’s been too long sweetie.” She was smiling brightly down at him and he was glancing at you with a half smirk, you almost sensed bashfulness in his expression. “Is this your girlfriend?”

It took you a second to realize she was referring to you, her warm motherly gaze falling to your side and cocking her head in anticipation for a response. Your mouth parted in surprise as you fumbled for an answer.

“She’s a friend.” Sunghoon rushed out before you could, awkwardly avoiding your gaze picking at the old chipped vinyl on the table. You furrowed your eyebrows at the use of the word. Was he just avoiding more questions or did he actually consider you two to be friends?

The waitress looked between the two of you with a quirked eyebrow and you felt slight annoyance at the teasing glint in her eyes, like she knew something you didn’t. You opted for staring at the table infront of you, watching Sunghoon’s anxious habit. She muttered something about getting his usual and then she was off back into the kitchen.

Sunghoon cleared his throat and you looked up at him from behind your hair. He was watching you, still with an air of awkwardness, and you once again noted how different he looked in this setting.

“Why are we here?” You automatically felt bad at the harshness in your tone and if it was anybody else you’d apologize or take it back. But you could tell that he understood you were frustrated and tired from practice and antsy about wasting time.

“Coach said we don’t have any chemistry.” He explained and you gave him a look that made him chuckle under his breath. He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward slightly. “I don’t know, I thought maybe we should try to have an actual conversation.”

“We have conversations.” You butt in, shaking your head like it was an obvious statement. You’d known the boy for almost your entire life, even if you were reluctant to admit it, you’d spoken to him more than most people you know.

“When’s my birthday.” His voice penetrated your line of thought and you looked back up at him, slightly shrinking at the question. “Do I have any siblings? Matter of fact, have you ever even seen me outside of the center?”

You were glaring at him as he spoke, although you couldn’t deny what he was saying. You wracked your brain for any counter argument, grasping at straws. “Three years ago I saw you at a 7/11.”

“Woah.” He raised an eyebrow at this and smiled down at you, looking slightly surprised when you offered a small smile back. “What was I doing?”

“Buying snacks.” You gave him a disapproving stare. You weren’t lying about this, much to your surprise you had caught him a few winters ago with two handfuls of restricted snacks and a jumbo soda balanced in his arm.

“And you didn’t rat me out?” He was definitely teasing but you still thought you heard a bit of surprise and truth in his words, like he genuinely expected you to run and tell on him. “Wait, why were you at 7/11?”

For a moment you considered lying, telling him you were getting pain pills or a protein bar but this new excited look on his face was silently urging you to lean into the openness of the conversation.

“Isn’t it obvious? I was buying snacks.” You leaned back in the booth and crossed your arms. A loud laugh pushed past his lips and your eyes widened slightly at the sound, more used to chuckles or scoffs.

His tired gaze softened on you slightly at your surprised expression but before he could speak or continue the conversation, a second waitress was returning with your food (two orders of Sunghoon’s ‘usual’).

You were staring down at the plate with a curious expression, slightly overwhelmed by the amount of food placed in front of you. You could feel his stare on you as you studied it and you lifted an eyebrow without looking up at him. “How do you practice after eating all this?”

He snorted another laugh and unraveled his silverware, leaning forward again to cut up your pancakes. You lifted your gaze to watch him as he did this, sleeves rolled up on his arms and eyes concentrated on his task. After finishing with the pancakes, and taking half for himself, he answered your question vaguely.

“Intensely.” His reply caused you to frown slightly and you were grateful for his habit of avoiding eye contact so he didn’t see the pity in your gaze.

It was no secret to anyone, and especially to you, that your sport was a tough one with intense practice and overall lifestyle. You’d spent more time than you’d admit worrying about the health of other kids you trained with and that included Sunghoon, who always seemed to be working ten times as hard as everybody else.

“How about once a week?”

“What?” He looked confused at your words and paused mid bite of his scrambled eggs, eyeing you with a question in his gaze.

“Once a week we eat here.” You explained, awkwardly toying with a piece of bacon in front of you. “Like… together.”

His silence was driving you crazy and you felt your heart rate increasing with each second that he didn’t respond to you, even with a rejection laugh or an awkward denial at your attempt to get closer. You reminded yourself that this was for the sake of winning and spared him a glance. He was watching you with a familiar smirk and you sighed softly.

“I knew you liked me princess.”

——

A few days had passed since the start of your new weekly ritual with Sunghoon, days full of practice and studying the demo video the two of you had scrapped together the week prior. You were watching it now and even though it was messy and unpolished, you felt semi proud at the way the two of you looked on the ice together.

Picturing it with more practice, the right facial expression and some competition level costumes and you were starting to understand why this was something people were looking forward to. And they definitely were.

Proven by the way a newspaper was smacked onto the ice infront of you, causing you to jump slightly before lowering the iPad and glancing at it to see a poorly edited photo of you and Sunghoon on the cover. You glared down at the paper and the latter mentioned laughed from above you.

“We’re the talk of the town.” You could hear the smile on his face and you pushed the paper away from you.

“I’m pretty sure we have actual photos together.” You mumbled. “Why did they edit it like that?”

You looked up in time to see him shrug and to also take in his attire. He was wearing a form fighting black turtleneck T-shirt that was tucked into his usual sport pants. Your gaze went down to his white gloves and he took notice of your stare, wiggling his fingers mockingly.

“Go change.” You frowned, standing up to reveal your similar outfit, only your shirt was white and your gloves were black, perfectly matching his in opposite colors.

He stared down at you with an annoyed expression and for a second you considered pushing him backwards on his skates, not liking that the toe of yours were nearly touching his. You decided against it at the thought he might trip and fall.

“Less talking, more practice.” You looked over at the new voice to see your coach, her hair messy from the snow outside as she unraveled her red scarf from around her neck. “Oh don’t you two look cute.“

You groaned at her comment referring to your matching outfits, turning and skating away from Sunghoon and over to where she was sitting along the sidelines. You vaguely heard the sound of his skates following behind you and you noted his lack of comment at her teasing remark.

“Did you see this?” You turned the paper towards her direction and she looked up in question, eyes brightening when she caught sight of what you were holding.

“Oh it’s wonderful.” She chirped out and you glanced back at Sunghoon, who mirrored your look of confusion. “It’s even better than I expected.”

“So you knew about it?” Sunghoon voice was closer than you expected it to be and you almost turned around and shoved him away before remembering your coach’s frantic need for you two to cooperate, and your deal made the other night. Still you weren’t quite used to his casual presence yet.

“Knew about it? I asked for it.” She explained and you gave her an incredulous look, shifting your eyes to the photo and bold headline.

Directly above the edited photo of the both of you, adorning crowns and a few photoshopped hearts between you was the large capital words, ‘ICE ROYALTY! ROMANCE ON ICE… AND OFF?’

You let a few beats pass as you stared at the cover, letting her get the read on your feelings towards the situation. “Why on earth would you do that?”

Sunghoon was clearing his throat behind you and you were grateful that he was seemingly going to add his two cents in, in agreement against the article. “I mean… it gets people curious.”

Your mouth parted and you spun around to face him, this time when your skates bumped into eachother you did push him slightly backwards. He seemed to be expecting it and glided a few inches away from you easily, his relaxed expression only adding to your annoyance.

“In what world do we need rumors and idiocy to win this?” You spat at him and his lip turned down for just a second before his eyebrows hardened. “We should be practicing not standing here talking about stupid fake headlines.”

“Oh but you seem pretty content storming out of practice whenever you get a little bit frustrated.” He spat back at you and you faltered for just a second, not expecting such anger directed back towards you. Overwhelmed, your mind shot straight to defense.

“Maybe because you’re impossible to be around.” You hissed towards him, fist clenched at your side. You both fell quiet and you shut your eyes for a second, willing him to say something back so your impulsive words weren’t left hanging in the cold air between you.

“That’s enough.” Your coach’s voice sounded tired but firm and you kept your eyes shut, regret seeping into your skin. You didn’t want to see his expression, regardless if it was hatred or hurt. “No practice for a few days, go home early.”

——

Not being on the ice was making your skin itch and your head feel like it was floating ten feet away from your body on a thin rope. You were thankful for the snow falling outside, accompanying you on cold walks and slightly keeping you grounded. It wasn’t often you had a break from practice and maybe there was times where this was all you wanted, but something felt heavy and wrong about the way things had occurred.

You felt even worse about what you had said to Sunghoon because you had meant it. Maybe not in the way he took, as a personal hit at his character, but definitely in the way that your competitive and insecure nature had crafted up your whole life.

It was almost impossible to be calm and in the right headset with somebody who seemed to be relaxed and carefree despite living the same life as you, you who could barely get through the day without multiple stress driven outburst.

Especially now, standing outside the diner, you realized how much better of a person he was than you. If he had said those words to you, you wouldn’t have shown up tonight. Maybe you would have even begged for a new partner or dramatically switched training halls.

But as you stood wrapped tightly in a thick jacket and a scarf, shaking from the cold and dark walk over here, you stared at the side of his face through the foggy window and took a deep guilty breath.

The entrance bell ringing as you pushed open the frosty door seemed louder than normal and so did the silence that screamed between the two of you as you sat down across from him. He didn’t look at you as you approached and for a moment you wondered if he only came to see if you would.

Then the waitress was circling around and placing a hot drink in front of you, offering you a small smile and a head nod. You managed a confused smile back at her but raised an eyebrow at the drink you didn’t order.

“It’s hot chocolate.” Sunghoon spoke and your eyes widened, shooting up towards him. He was watching you with a careful expression. “It’s cold and you don’t drink coffee.”

You wondered how he knew that about you, when he had observed you enough to have a fact that small stored away. You didn’t voice your confusion, giving him a small nod and taking off your gloves so you could wrap your cold hands around the warm mug.

“I can pull myself out of the competition.” You stopped mid sip as he started to speak, avoiding eye contact with you and fiddling with this thread of his fingerless mittens. “I guess I didn’t realize how hard of a time you were having.”

“I’m not.” You rushed out, immediately flushing at the loud volume of your voice. He looked shocked at your words, watching as you set down the mug carefully and put your elbows on the table. “I’m not having a hard time… well not because of you atleast. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit and you were curious what he was thinking about, not for the first time you found yourself wishing he was not so nice, then maybe he’d have a burst of anger and lay everything on you. You wanted him to call you spoiled or rude, anything other than that soft look he was giving you.

“I’ve always had a hard time.” You don’t know where it came from, the sudden personal statement causing him to tilt his head in the terrible, genuinely curious way that he did. You felt an overwhelming sense that if you didn’t tell him something about you right now, that would be it.

“With me?” His eyebrow cocked and yours furrowed.

“No… or yes.” His lip quirked downwards and you hurried to finish your sentence before a repeat of the other day occurred. “Not because of you but because of me. Because I’m jealous of you and how good you are at everything.”

He seemed to take this in for a second before a scoff escaped his lips, the smile on his face letting you know it was semi lighthearted.

“You’re jealous of me?” His shock was genuine and he leaned back in the booth and sucked a breath in through his teeth. The loud hissing sound made you wince. “And all this time I’ve thought the same about you.”

“Oh whatever.” You mumbled, both not believing what he was saying and not feeling comfortable at the unfamiliarity of the back and forth compliment.

“I mean it.“ Something in the way Sunghoon said it made you want to believe him. “You’re like a natural out there. Living up to your title, if I do say so myself.”

“It doesn’t feel natural, and don’t forget who got the title first.” You felt a bit childish to be refusing his attempt at being civil, nice even, but that nasty insecure part of you wouldn’t allow you to take any compliments from him.

“Well I was excited to be paired with you.” He raised his shoulders in a shrug and you watched him carefully from under your eyelashes. He smiled at you awkwardly when you didn’t immediately respond and your lip jutted out into a pout.

“I’m sorry Sunghoon.” The words felt weighted and empty as you forced them out but you truly meant what you were saying and you hoped he could see that beneath your initial tone. He looked slightly taken back at the use of his first name.

Luckily, he nodded at you and leaned forward on his elbows again, pushing your mug back towards you with two steady fingers. You watched his hand as they came closer to your side of the table, feeling a bit embarrassed when the mug stopped infront of you, insinuating he wanted you to finish the warm liquid.

After a beat you glanced up at him and immediately dropped your gaze back down to the steamy cup at the smirk on his face, his fingers lingering for just a moment before retracting back to under the booth.

“Finish, we have work to do.”

——

“Exactly! That’s exactly it right there.” Sunghoon’s excited words barely registered to you over the sound of your loud panting.

You were leaned over, elbows on your knees and eyes closed shut in an attempt to catch your breath. You’d been going at it relentlessly the last few days, nearly perfecting the basic moves but still needing to add the flare the judges would be looking for.

Sunghoon and you had been getting along for the most part, small spurts of bickering and burst of frustration due to complicated moves but nobody has stormed out or lost any fingers, so it was a win in your book.

“Again.” He was chiming from a few feet away and you glared up at him from behind your sweaty bangs causing him to laugh before assuming his position on the floor.

You were slowly becoming used to it now, the close proximity, the faux romance on your expressions. You were a professional and that’s all this truly was, work. But you were feeling slightly childish about the way you couldn’t get use to his hands on you.

Telling yourself it was just awkwardness, maybe even lingering animosity you were holding that made your stomach turn every time his big hand wrapped it’s way around some part of you, you laid on the ice a few feet away from him.

You routinely rolled over top of him, movements robotic as you avoided looking down at him and he tensed slightly.

When it was his turn to do the same, he paused above you and you frowned, waiting for him to move off of you so you could ease into the next portion.

Instead he stayed in place, caging you in as he balanced himself on his forearms. For a second you thought about the core strength it’d require to hold a plank on ice before shaking your head and internally scolding yourself.

“You’re distracted.” He was saying above you and you felt his breath on your cheek, strongly opposing the cold ice your other one was pressed against. His voice was low and telling, not a question.

“No I’m not.” You scoffed, or atleast the best you could considering if you took a deep inhale your chest would press against his. “Maybe you’re distracted.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you looked at him, still refusing to turn your head incase your noses touched. He was looking down at you intensely however and your stomach flipped again.

“I am.” His voice was firm but you looked at him just in time to see his eyes awkwardly shoot around your face, hesitation in his gaze.

You weren’t fully sure what he was implying and you definitely weren’t going to reply without him outright saying that it was you he was distracted by, the presumed humiliation making you furrow your eyebrows.

The thought crossed your mind that he was making fun of you, that he had someone noticed how hard it was for you to focus around him and was trying to bait a confession out of you.

You turned your head finally, not flinching at the way his nose bumped against yours or the sharp inhale he took at the sudden contact. You held his gaze for just a few seconds before starting to speak.

“Get off me Park.”

He faltered for a second like he wasn’t expecting that sort of response, body completely locking above yours before quickly rolling over onto his back next to you and awkwardly sitting up.

“I’m sorry.” He rushed out and you finally took a big breath before also sitting up and avoiding looking at him. He watched as you stood completely and you felt his eyes on you. “I don’t know why I said that Y/N.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You lied smoothly, keeping your voice steady and shrugging softly as you wiped off the ice shavings that was stuck on your leggings. He was still watching you and you heard him sigh in embarrassment.

“From the start?” He eventually muttered and you glanced over at him, shaking your head.

“I have to head out actually.” You tried to keep your tone casual but he looked pained, obviously not falling for your excuse and realizing you were leaving because of what he said. “First thing tomorrow?”

He didn’t say anything but you knew he had heard you and started to skate off the ice, face flushing with awkwardness as you finally took a breath and accessed what had just happened.

If you weren’t mistaken and he wasn’t pulling some sick joke on you, which judging by his mortified reaction you highly doubted that, Park Sunghoon had just attempted to make a pass at you.

Park Sunghoon who, for the better part of your life, had done nothing but drive you absolutely crazy with anger and jealousy. The same boy who thought it was funny to tie your laces together and watch videos of your failed jumps on the waiting rooms big screen.

You were absolutely sickened by the idea of it and even worse, the fact that the red painting your cheeks was not because of anger.

Storming out from the hall into the snowy night, your stomach was twisting again with what you now fully understood was not nauseation.

It was the stone cold realization that you liked Park Sunghoon.

—-

You hadn’t exaggerated on your call for early practice the next day, entering the hall before the sun had even risen yet.

It didn’t help you’d spend the entire night tossing and turning and screaming into your pillow as you replayed the scenario in your head over and over, analyzing every awkward second of silence or quirk of his eyebrows.

You’d come to the conclusion, at some point during your fourth hour of restlessness, that Sunghoon hadn’t been joking and he was absolutely attempting to flirt with you or at least was testing the waters.

This realization was nothing short of crippling and you almost considered not coming in today, making faking a cough or a sore throat. But the clock was ticking on your time to practice before the competition and with this added distraction, you needed all the time you could get.

So it was driving you a bit insane as the second hour passed and Sunghoon still hadn’t arrived to practice. You hadn’t entered the rink yet, anxiously sitting in the locker room with your skates half tied as you rocked your knees back and forth.

You imagined he would be embarrassed, maybe he hadn’t even thought before he spoke and it came across wrong, but for him to not show up at all was something you couldn’t accept.

Before another minute of waiting could pass you were pulling your phone out and doing something you’ve, somehow, never done before and texting him.

y/n : After all this and you aren’t going to show up? I don’t know about you but this is really important to me and I’m sick of the childishness.

You sent the message before you considered how harsh it was, leaning forward and groaning as your forehead hit your knee. Your phone was clutched to your chest as you waited for the buzz to signal he responded.

It never came and you felt your heart sink to your stomach, smushing its way past the irritation and anger you’d been accumulating the past hour.

You flung your skates off with a yell, wincing internally at the loud echoed bang of them hitting the metal seats that rang throughout the room. Standing swiftly, you stuffed them into your locker and slammed it shut before turning on your heel and going to leave.

In your fury driven urgency to get outside you didn’t peer around the corner before rounding it, resulting in you falling back against the floor as you smacked roughly into somebody approaching at the same time.

You let out another loud groan as you hit the floor, head striking the ground that was luckily covered in rubber mats designed for your skates blades. Still, a wave of pain washed over you at the force in which you fell.

“Fuck.” To make matters worse, you immediately registered as he spoke that it was Sunghoon you’d smacked into. He was leaning down to check you, a hand jutted out in an attempt to help you up. “I’m so sorry I’m late, something came up and-“

“I don’t care.” You cut him off in a snap causing his face to drop in guilt. You ignored his outstretched hand and pushed yourself to a standing position. “I’m leaving.”

“Y/N, I really am telling the truth.” He rushed out, eyes big and desperate. You glared at him and tried to move down the exit hall again, behind stopped by his large frame as he stepped sideways in your way.

“Whatever it is I can’t imagine it could be more important than practice.” You felt the irony in your words as you spoke them, wanting to wince at how similar you sounded to your mother but you were acting on anger.

He seemed to realize this now, deflating with a sigh and staring down at you with his sharp eyebrows pulled to the center of his forehead.

“Let me show you.”

——

You weren’t exactly sure how he had managed to get you here considering how hell bent you’d been on avoiding him or strictly practicing, nothing in between.

But somehow, half an hour later, and you were sat frowning in his passenger seat. Your arms were crossed in irritation and you were stiff and tight in the seat, resisting the urge to look around and analyze his car.

Truthfully you hadn’t even realized he knew how to drive, although it suddenly made sense considering you’d never seen a parent of his at the rink and he always was there at odd hours of the night without the cold bitten cheeks you typically had.

Sunghoon had a strong point when he said you didn’t know anything about each other, you knew it was truthful when he had said it but it was weighing on you now as you looked over at him as he drove.

He looked nervous, shoulders higher and more tense than they usually were but he was sat comfortably in his seat, only one hand on the steering wheel like he’d been driving for a long time. You wondered when he had learned, who had taught him or if maybe he’d taught himself.

You’d never thought of Sunghoon as lonely. He was always bouncing around competitions with a bright smile, chatting with judges and opponents and even with your own mother a few times.

You remember being 15, face red and puffy from the tears you’d shed after she’d given you a strict scolding in the bathroom after a low scale contest. He had approached afterwards, ready to throw some quick jabs and comments your way before seeing the look on your face.

Instead he had struck a conversation with her, making funny faces at you over her turned shoulder as she spoke in her familiar harsh tone. You remember laughing into your glove and then watching him as he walked away, trying to catch sight of his mom.

He seemed to know how to handle strict parents so you were curious if he was raised similarly, but you were just left confused as he left the rink by himself.

“See that right there,” Your mother had spoken in a low voice, leaning towards you on the bench. “Some parents don’t even show up to these things, you should be more grateful.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about that now as you pulled into a parking lot, blue hour was settling in now as the afternoon bled on. The drive was just over an hour but it was getting darker sooner in the day as you went deeper into the winter.

He sucked in a breath and you felt him look over at you like he was waiting for you to say something about where you were. You didn’t but you turned your head to meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow for an explanation.

It looked like he was considering giving you one for a second and then he changed his mind, taking his keys and getting out of the car. You watched him circle around to your side, opening your door for you and waiting for you to step out.

You silently followed him into the building, passing by a reception desk with a large man who gave Sunghoon a smile and a nod. You stared at his comfortable shoulders as he walked through the winding hallways with ease, clearly familiar with them.

The building resembled a hospital, dull colors and the buzzing of LED lights making your head spin slightly but the similarities between the people in the rooms you were passing told you what it truly was.

Sunghoon stopped infront of a room with a closed door and looked over at you, again like he was expecting you to speak. You didn’t and he eventually sighed and turned to open the door after a beat.

“Sunghoon? Is that you?” You stayed by the door, letting it close softly behind you, as he walked into the room and pulled back a privacy curtain that was hanging from a rod on the ceiling. You froze in place at the sight of the older woman in the bed, machines hooked around her with dull beeps and chimes.

“Yeah Nana.” His voice was lower than you’d heard it before and your eyes went to him as he softly lowered himself to sit on her bed. He glanced at you and waved a hand, signaling for you to come closer.

For a second you wanted to shake your head, to back track out of the room and wait for him down the hall. You didn’t understand why he would take you here, why he would show you this part of his life or what this meant.

But you let your feet fall forward and stepped into her view, breath catching when he outstretched a hand to grab your wrist and pull you closer at a faster pace. The feeling of his skin against yours combined with her questioning gaze made your face flush.

“Oh.” Her mouth parted in shock and you bowed your head slightly with a smile in greeting, not fully trusting yourself to speak. “You must be Y/N.”

Your eyes widened and you looked towards Sunghoon who had a similar expression, hanging his head so he didn’t have to meet your eye.

“You’ve heard about me?” You spoke softly, a louder volume feeling intrusive in the quiet room. The lights were dimmed low and the curtains were drawn giving the space a warm calm atmosphere.

“Oh he doesn’t shut up about you.” She was smiling at you and reaching out a shaky hand for you to take. You went to lift your left hand and felt the weight of Sunghoon’s on your wrist still, faltering and looking at him.

He looked embarrassed and confused, like he hadn’t even realized he was still holding onto you. He went to remove his grip but you twisted your hand and pulled his into yours, squeezing it tightly. You gave her your free hand instead.

It was a bit jarring to you and out of your element and you felt a bit of panic building in your throat. Being here was strange and Sunghoon being beside you was every stranger.

The weirdest part of all was the absolute care and adoration on this woman’s face, a strange you’d never seen before holding your hand with such delicacy. You felt yourself tear up slightly thinking how nice it must’ve been to grow up with such a person in your life.

You glanced at Sunghoon at this thought, you were still standing beside the bed holding both their hands while he sat and he was already looking at you. He seemed slightly taken back by your glossy eyes but he smiled at you warmly like he understood the reasoning.

And you were realizing now that he did.

It wasn’t the first time it had occurred to you that he was lonely but it was definitely the first time you really processed it. Maybe it was this new found care you had for him, this pull at your heart when you thought back to the boy with nobody to see his competition performances.

“Why are you back here sweetheart.” Sunghoon’s grandmas soft voice was speaking again and you glanced over at her, avoiding his eye contact when you felt his thumb rub the back of your hand.

You suddenly realized this was why he was late, obviously held up in a visit or maybe a medical emergency. Guilt hit you as you remembered your harsh tone and processed the fact he had driven the hour to practice and then turned around and brought you back here.

“I thought it was probably time the two of you met.” He lied naturally, squeezing your hand as if he was signaling for you to go along with it. You didn’t say anything, too busy wondering what all she knew about you, how long had you been a subject of conversation between the two.

You can’t imagine all the conversations were pleasant but her eyes held absolutely no sign of disdain or malice.

“You two must be so busy.” The soft croak in her voice made your stomach hurt and she shakily squeezed your hand causing you to do the same to Sunghoon’s in a ripple effect. You realized she was looking at you for a response.

“It isn’t too bad.” You assured her, smiling softly and you faintly heard Sunghoon scoff from beside you. You glared quickly at him and he lifted his free hand in mock surrender.

“I know it’s tiring.” His grandma was continuing and you looked back over at her, her eyebrows turning inwards. Her expression was shockingly similar to his and you let a heavy silence fall between the three of you.

You were once again wondering what type of things they talked about, if she was looking pained at the thought of her grandsons tiring lifestyle or if he had mentioned something about you and your own strict regimen.

It didn’t feel like the time to ask questions and you especially didn’t think you had the right to curiosity.

You’d shown Sunghoon a lot of coldness in the past few days despite his multiple attempts to get closer, and through that all he still had brought you to such an intimate personal place.

“I won’t keep you long.” Sunghoon and his grandma had been having a low voiced conversation while you were deep in thought but she was louder now, catching your attention and giving you a gentle knowing look.

You squeezed her hand one final time as a goodbye, not fully trusting yourself or your voice. Sunghoon was standing then, shoulder bumping against yours and you were overwhelming aware of the fact he was still holding your hand.

You welcomed it, feeling cold and bitter when the door opened to reveal the harsh white of the nursing homes lights that sharply contrasted Mrs. Parks yellow tinted room.

Without thinking you were pulling his arm closer, so your left hand was wrapped in his and your right arm was holding his sleeve against your chest, practically hugging his arm as you walked.

If the sudden closeness shocked him he didn’t show it, not making a move to remove you even as you passed back through the lobby and out the front doors.

It was darkening now despite it barely being 5pm, the short light of winter days making you colder than you’d ever been. The irony of the princess of the ice saying that didn’t miss you.

He paused when you reached his car and you felt him look at you. He was obviously trying to get a gauge of what you wanted to do considering you were glued to his side. You let him go reluctantly and walked swiftly to the passenger side before pulling yourself up into the car.

He was sitting down by the time you pulled your seatbelt on, starting the engine but not making any move to drive or fully situate himself. You imagined he was waiting for you to say something again and this time you didn’t want to disappoint him.

“She’s nice.” You felt pathetic as you spoke the words, nice not beginning to describe the situation or how you felt but you fell short like always when it came to affection.

Luckily he seemed to know exactly what you meant, something he did a lot you were realizing. He seemed to know when you were truly mad versus just tired and frustrated, he knew your distaste for coffee and he knew how to make you laugh despite your moms scolding.

You watched him as he nodded and tried to contain a fond smile for his grandma, biting his lip softly and forming a small dimple on his cheek.

“Do you come here a lot?” You were talking again and this seemed to take him off guard for just a second before he was neutralizing his expression like he was worried he’d scare you off.

“Everyday.” He was humming and leaning his head back against the seat, turning it lazily to look over at you. Your eyes followed up his jaw to his eyes just in time to see him quirk an eyebrow. “If I can.”

“And you talk about me?”

He snorted a laugh at your bluntness and the suggestion behind your words, eyes squeezing shut in a chuckle. You found yourself almost entranced studying his features.

“Not all the time princess.” The familiar pet name caused a similar reaction to normal, blood surging and stomach turning. You tried to ignore the fact it wasn’t driven by anger like it typically was, something much heavier replacing it now.

“But sometimes?” You pressed forward and leaned your elbow onto the middle console as the leather creaked under the weight. The noise caused his eyes to snap open and look at you, realizing you were closer now as you leaned in his space.

He hummed again and his eyes tracked down your face, similarly to the way you were studying him. “Yeah, sometimes.”

You didn’t say anything, a bit lost for words now that he was looking at you. It had never passed by you that he was handsome, probably the most striking person you’d ever seen in your life but without the usual cloud of anger fogging your mind, he was especially alluring.

“What do you say?” You voice came out as a whisper, almost falling forward from how far you were leaning on your elbows. He wasn’t moving in his seat, watching you unconsciously come closer with tired eyes.

He shrugged and lifted an eyebrow, hand falling forward on the middle console as he let a finger unravel and skim across your forearm.

“What do you say Sunghoon.” You ignored the goosebumps that his touch caused, questioning him further. You almost didn’t care about his answer anymore, you just wanted to hear him talk again.

His gaze hardened at the use of his first name, shifting in his seat but not turning his body to face yours. He kept his head turned towards you however, letting your breath fan his face every time you took a shaky exhale.

“Nothing bad.” He was speaking in a low tone, not fully paying attention to the conversation anymore.

“I want to hear though.”

“I wanna kiss you.” He tensed for a second as the words found their way out of his mouth without him meaning for them to. His shoulders relaxed seeing the way your mouth parted in shock.

You felt like a cold tidal wave had hit you as he spoke, face heating up and then more so when his eyes fell towards your open mouth.

A large part of you instinctively wanted to shut him down, wanted to lean back in your seat and tell him to start the car and prepare for the awkward trip back to the training center.

The other part of you liked the way he looked in a darkening car and less shallowly, liked how he smiled at you when you held his grandmas hand despite you letting out your frustration on him only hours earlier.

“That’s what you and your nana talk about?” You smiled at him as you spoke, a teasing tilt in your voice. Your smile only widened when he let out a breathy laugh and pressed his forehead against yours.

“If I kiss you right now will it ruin everything.” He was whispering and you were suddenly aware of how silent it was in the car, wishing for a low buzzing radio to fill the gaps.

“It might.” You whispered back to him and you felt him raise his eyebrows against yours causing your lips to jut out in a pout.

You felt his fingers dancing along your forearm again and you felt the sudden urge to hold his hand again.

“After we win the competition I’ll kiss you.” He sounded slightly pained in his words but you heard that familiar competitive fire that was typically directed towards you.

“Or you could do it now.” You felt slightly pathetic at the whine in your voice and he made it even worse by smiling at the sound of it.

“If I do it now we might not make it home.” He had a slight groan to his voice and your stomach flipped again.

You hastily shifted your arm off the middle console to fumble around for his hand, opting for wrapping your grip around his wrist again. He glanced down at it for a second before looking back up at you.

Slightly embarrassed, you felt your cheeks heating up at your actions but the warmth of his smooth skin was addicting now that you’d actually felt it outside of practice with skin tight clothes. Paired with his suggestive words and you were a goner when it came to common sense.

“How good is your self restraint?” You eventually opted for another teasing comment, not quite sure you were charming enough to directly respond to his comment without embarrassing yourself.

“When it comes to you?” His eyes flashed with something and you briefly wondered how long he’d been thinking about this or if it was as recent of a development as it was for you. “Terrible.”

“I want to… kiss you too.” You almost face palmed at your own words, how utterly stupid and childish they sounded. He had to have figured you didn’t know how to do this, he’d only spent your entire life seeing how busy you constantly were.

He smiled at you, a genuine toothy smile that made you want to scream in embarrassment. Luckily he didn’t seem to be making fun of you and was just genuinely amused by your awkward comment.

And he was. He liked seeing sides of you he’d only caught in passing, he liked that you were teasing back with him and not pulling away or snapping into fight mode at his presence. He especially liked the way your small hand was gripping tightly onto his wrist like you were so desperate to touch him, he wasn’t allowed to remove it for even a minute.

“We’ve gotta head back princess.” You could tell by the way he said that it was his final decision but you relished in the impatience in his eyes.

He leaned back in his seat again, leaving you leaned over the console still and short of breath before flopping back against the leather and waiting for him to pull out of the parking lot.

A few seconds of silence passed and you looked at him in question, raising an eyebrow at the fact he was looking at you in waiting. You followed the way his eyes looked down and saw his hand outstretched towards you.

You definitely were bright red now, looking away but taking his hand in yours as he finally started the drive back home.

—

He’d pulled up to the center after an hour of silence and shy hand squeezes. You were thankful for his silence, more than anything needing a bit of time to think about what had happened in the past few days.

It didn’t seem like it was weighing on him as much, he seemed nervous and excited but not as much thrown off as you felt. You wondered if there was a reasoning behind that or if you he was just really good at pretending to be casual.

You were terrible at being casual, further proved by the way you’re nearly choked as his hand found it’s way to the small of your back while leading you through the parking lot and into the building.

A week ago you would have thrown him off of you and said something about how you already knew the way in and didn’t need him to show you.

You thought about it for a second, just a small second, when you passed through the lobby and your coach came into view. She was practically blowing smoke as she caught sight of the two of you and started to shake her head in anger.

“Oh so now you show up.” She spat and you froze in place, step faltering at the aggressive way she was approaching. “You think you can just skip a whole entire afternoon of practice just because you’ve gotten some good scores in your career.”

Your frown was deepening and you felt the childish urge to curl in on yourself. You’d been in such a happiness cloud since this morning and you felt like you’d been pushed off a sharp cliff back into reality.

And she was absolutely right. It was stupid to skip practice even if it proved to be extremely important and beneficial to you.

“Watch what you say.” Sunghoon was spitting back at her and taking a small step forward, his hand sliding from your back to rest on your waist. Her eyes followed the movement but you couldn’t read her expression.

“Distracted.” She spat the single word, knowing the impact of it. Knowing that was the one thing you were not supposed to be, absolutely never allowed to be. “You’re fucking distracted.”

“And so what if she is.” You’d never heard Sunghoon so angry and you wanted to grab his shoulder and pull him back, wanted to calm him down so he didn’t get reprimanded too. “She’s spent everyday of her entire life focused on one thing, it was barely a few hours.”

“A few hours turns into more.” She was practically screeching now and a few other skaters were sending you apologetic glances and scurrying away. “This is a distraction”

You felt tears well up as she gestured between the two of you, a look of anger and disgust on her face.

“Aren’t you the one who paid for this.” You were confused what Sunghoon was referring to before you remembered the news article she had ordered. A surge of anger flashed through you at the reminder, the pure hypocrisy in what she was saying.

She could spin your love life however she pleased when it was beneficial to her and her career overview but forbids you from actually spending any time with anybody other than the ice.

You didn’t want to listen to her anymore, squeezing Sunghoon’s arm in an attempt to draw his attention away and calm him down. He didn’t look at you for a second, keeping his hard glare locked on her.

She wasn’t his coach so there wasn’t anything she could directly do to punish him. Nothing besides her ability to pull you from the pair skate or request a different partner for you, severely hurting your chances of winning and his yearly average.

“I told you about this.” Her voice was nearly a whisper with the way she hissed it through her clenched teeth. You thought she was talking to you for a second but she was holding Sunghoon’s gaze tightly.

Your hand fell from his arm in confusion, not understanding what she was referring to.

“I don’t give a fuck what you told me.” He spat back and took a small step back towards you again.

You took a step to the side before you even realized you were moving away from him, only processing it when he turned to look at you with a hurt expression. You felt guilty but something about the unknown of their words was leaving a heavy pit in your stomach.

“Y/N, we can talk about this later…. Alone.” Your coach was sighing and despite your anger with her you were glad she knew when to remove herself from a situation.

You held Sunghoon’s gaze as she walked off, presumably leaving the center. He spared a quick glance in her direction to make sure she was gone before looking back at you with that same expression.

“What’s wrong.” His voice was weak and confused, a sharp contrast to the way he was just throwing daggers at Suzy.

“What is she talking about?”

He seemed thrown off for a second, taking a second to think before understanding passed over his face. He took a step towards you, a hand jutted out in your direction. Your lips formed a frown but you took his hand and waited for him to speak.

“At the beginning of the season,” He cleared his throat and your stomach turned with nerves. Maybe she had instructed him to flirt with you, to attempt closeness with you for a better performance. “Before she officially picked me, she sat me down and told me I needed to keep my feelings out of it.”

“What feelings?” You shook your head in confusion, still not fully understanding. “Like with the way we fight? That doesn’t make any sense, wouldn’t she be happy to see us civil then?”

“It wasn’t about that.” He sighed and you watched his cheeks slowly redden as his eyes anxiously shifted to avoid looking at you. “She said she could tell I… was into you and she didn’t want me to become something you focused on outside of being your skate partner.”

You pondered the thought of what he was saying for a few beats of silence, almost feeling more confused at the explanation. If you were correct then he seemed to be insinuating existing feelings towards you, and enough for other people to notice.

“This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.” He sighed again and you felt his hand uncomfortably flex in yours. “All these years of working up the nerve I figured it would be some big romantic gesture.”

He was telling a joke but his voice lacked all humor, a hint of anger seeping in like his plans had been ruined.

“What the hell are you talking about Sunghoon.” Your voice was breathy and slightly irritated, sick of everybody’s vague wordings. “You sound like you’re inlove with me or something.”

Your scoff trailed off when he didn’t say anything. You had expected him to laugh at the thought, say a teasing remark or anything at all. He stopped looking around and watched you with a strange expression, like he was waiting for you to piece things together.

You felt your mouth parting softly and you slowly dropped his hands, he didn’t try to grab yours again and gave you your space as you tried to process what he was seemingly saying.

Park Sunghoon seemed to be insinuating, or atleast not denying the fact, that he was inlove with you and had been for more than a few years.

The thought of this made you feel sick and dizzy and you almost grabbed him for support as your knees weakened.

You weren’t quite sure if it was a good sick or a bad sick. On one hand you were excited, your newly discovered liking towards him and desperation to explore this new territory driving forward the giddiness you felt at the thought of him liking you back.

On the other hand you felt disgusted. Both at yourself for missing the signs, maybe spending years hurting him with your rude comments and refusal to learn anything about him. But also at him for not telling you or even hinting it from what you could see, half the fights you’d gotten in throughout the years had been started by him.

“Since when?” Your voice came out stern and his eyes creased at the way your face scrunched up in confusion and anger.

He was shaking his head and taking a step towards you, immediately backtracking when he realized he had done so. You were watching him and waiting for a response that you weren’t sure was coming considering he was starting to look pained at the thought of telling you.

“It doesn’t matter.” He proved you right as he continued to shake his head. “It’s not a distraction, you only knew because I fucked up the other day at practice.”

“That was a fuck up?” You scoffed at him, anger making you ignore the fact that he was right and you yourself had treated it like he made a mistake.

“It shouldn’t have happened like that. I waited all this time it was selfish for me to do it now, I don’t know why I did.” He was trying to explain himself but it was just confusing you further. “I just couldn’t help myself, I don’t know, being around you like this is making me feel crazy.”

He was talking like a lovesick teenager and your stomach was lurching at the fact that might just be the case.

You don’t understand how he hid it so well, or even when he had started to realize his feelings and plan to keep them a secret. Why would he put himself through such a thing for so long and then risk it all by accepting to be your partner.

A wave of guilt washed over you again as you raked through all your memories with Sunghoon with this new added knowledge. He must’ve been so hurt while pretending like he didn’t care that you were so mean to eachother.

“Please tell me since when.” You tried to soften your voice, your anger not even directed at him in the first place just the circumstance.

“I don’t know.” His voice broke when he said it like it was a question he’d asked himself a dozen times. He took a big breath and deflated. “Probably since the first time I saw you with your little pink skates, who knows.”

You didn’t say anything for a few seconds and were suddenly hyper aware that you were having this conversation in the middle of the lobby, tears brewing in your eyes as your hands started to shake.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Sunghoon’s voice was desperate and earnest, like he felt guilty for falling inlove with you which made you feel ten times worse about the whole situation.

“Will you take me home?” You looked up at him with wet eyelashes just in time to see shock pass over his face. He clearly wasn’t expecting such a casual conversation change, especially one that entailed you spending more time alone together today.

Still, he softened as he looked at you and nodded his head slowly like he was waiting for you to change your mind. You both stood still even after his agreement, in a slight daze from the intense emotions you’d been feeling. He nodded again, more to himself this time, and you felt his hand against the small of your back starting to lead you back outside.

Neither of you spoke when you felt the cold air outside and still when he opened the passenger door for you and helped you climb into seat. He watched you for a second before closing the door and circling the car to get into his own spot.

It felt dramatically different in the space than it had only a few hours before, the giggly excited tension replaced with silence and heavy air. You were so out of it you didn’t even notice he didn’t ask for directions to your apartment.

When you realized you’d been driving for a few minutes you were confused, wondering when he had learned the way to your place, before realizing you weren’t heading in the direction you’d normally come from.

You immediately figured he was taking you to his house instead and for some reason you didn’t want to object. Despite being confused and angry and feeling slightly betrayed at this kept secret, you were comfortable and familiar in his presence and almost felt addicted to being around him.

Besides you know that there was nothing this warm and caring waiting for you back home. If your mother was there at all, she was bound to throw a massive fit over you missing practice.

It was worrying to you that you couldn’t find a single piece of care inside of you about missing practice. If anything, your chest was light and airy underneath all the pain and you weren’t sure it’d ever felt this stress free in your life.

You were slowly understanding why you were never given a break, why a day off was unacceptable. Maybe they were fearful you’d fully realize how much better you’d feel without this force of pressure and expectation.

Sunghoon wasn’t the reason you were distracted, at least not from the competition, and once you were able to speak again you wanted him to understand that.

Eventually you were pulling up to an apartment building, similar to yours but slightly on the other side of town. Sunghoon was looking over at you again, waiting for a sign you were ready to get out of the car.

You opened your own door and briefly saw him nod from the corner of your eye, unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping outside back into the bitter air.

You awkwardly followed behind him as he unlocked the main set of doors with a keycard, walking down a long plain hallway until he stopped at a door with a small penguin welcome mat infront of it. He looked at it and then back at you and he seemed pleased at the amusement in your eyes.

When he unlocked the door you were suddenly hit with the fact you were about to see where he lived and quickly wondered who he lived with. You weren’t sure you were ready to hold an awkward conversation with his parents about why you were going in their sons room.

You realized immediately upon walking in, however, that that was not the case at all. The apartment was comfortable but small, far too small to house a family even if he had no siblings. You watched him kick his shoes off into a slot in the empty rack and hang his keys up on the singular hook.

He started down the entrance hallway before stopping when he realized you weren’t following behind him. He looked over his shoulder at you and tensed up at the sad expression on your face.

“What?” The tone of his voice told you that he already knew what you were thinking without you having to say it.

“I didn’t know you lived alone.” You tried to keep the pity out of your words, a casual tone coming off awkward and deliberate.

He scoffed at your attempt and for a moment you were reminded of who exactly you were standing here with, a glimpse of the familiar rival you were more used to startling you slightly.

He didn’t say anything in response, just waving a hand to signal for you to move into the main living space. You followed quickly after removing your shoes, taking in the larger room with widened eyes.

Something about it was very Sunghoon, despite being plain and quiet. The yellow toned lights and CD’s on the coffee table catching your attention as you shuffled into the warm room.

“You seemed out of it.” He was starting from behind you. He didn’t sound close but a chill ran through you at the thought of him watching you. “I didn’t feel right bringing you home alone, I hope that’s okay.”

You turned to look at him and your heart tugged at his sad tired expression. He was looking at you intensely, you figured it must be weird to see you in such a familiar setting. You jutted a hand out in his direction and he looked down at it with surprise.

“I didn’t want to go home.” Your voice was low and soft, the silence of the room outside of the heater running was reminding you of his grandma’s and it felt wrong to have a higher volume.

His head cocked slightly but he took your hand in his, letting out a shaky breath when you squeezed it tightly and pulled on his hand so he’d come closer to you. He was standing far away so your arms were stuck straight out, like he wasn’t sure he was actually allowed to touch you.

You tugged him again and he stumbled closer to you, his big hand instinctively coming to rest on your waist and then falling again in a haste. You frowned at his reaction and then realized he must be feeling confused.

“What are you thinking about?” You kept your voice quiet and soft and he looked down at you with that same pained expression. You let go of his hand and put both of yours flat on his chest, feeling the way his heart beat raced and hiccuped.

You were once again impressed by his ability to mask how he felt, if you weren’t looking at him so intensely or touching him, you’d have no idea he was feeling this upset.

“I don’t know.” He whispered and he sounded honest. His hand hesitatingly went back to your waist, feeling awkward at the way his arms dangled at his sides while you touched him.

“I want to be here.” You felt the sudden urge to reassure him on this despite not being sure if that’s what was bothering him or just the situation in general.

“For how long?” Frustration laced his words and you didn’t understand for a few seconds. First you assumed he meant how long you wanted to stay but you quickly realized he was asking how long you’ve wanted to be around him.

You felt guilt creep up considering you weren’t sure what answer to give him because you weren’t even sure yourself when things had changed for you. You don’t think it was a sudden dramatic realization after he tried to flirt with you like you originally thought.

Thinking back on your life now, Sunghoon and this rivalry has been the most consistent thing you’ve ever known. You’d search for him at competitions and you’d spend weekends thinking about what insults to throw at him next time you saw him.

This could’ve been a childish fued, maybe even bordering on actual dislike sometimes, if it wasn’t for everything else.

You were no stranger to finding him attractive, bitterly acknowledging it every time you saw him. You remember when you were entering your teens and he was shooting up in height and his features were sharpening, scrolling his instagram at the time and scowling at photos of him surrounded by similarly attractive people.

You thought back to staring at his hands in the diner and the fondness you felt watching him juggle an armful of forbidden snacks in that 7/11. A fondness that left you so dazed you had completely forgotten to act as an enemy and rat him out to the coaches.

As hard as it was to admit, even to yourself, you weren’t ice skating because it was your passion. It didn’t get you out of bed in the morning or light a fire under your skin in excitement. You did it because it was what people wanted for you and because you liked to win, you liked how people talked about you when you won.

Sunghoon was a breath of fresh air from the pressure, he never cared if you won or lost, in fact he didn’t want you winning half the time.

He didn’t talk to you like you were a project, a robot prodigy who didn’t have room for love or care and he didn’t walk on eggshells around you like you were some royal princess needing only the best treatment.

You wouldn’t sit here and tell Sunghoon you knew how he’s felt all these years, you wouldn’t lie and say you’d been pining over him too and it has always been set in stone for you but a large part of you feels like maybe you knew it all along.

“I can’t say.” You answered honestly even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “But I am here now Sunghoon.”

You felt his hands tensing against your sides, instinctively squeezing like he was worried you’d disappear now. You wanted to ask him the things you should have years ago, you wanted to know why he lived alone and how long he’s come back to this empty room after hours of hard practice.

You felt guilty again for missing the signs. His familiarity at a random diner, clearly frequently there alone. Always being at the rink at random times like nobody was expecting him home or worried he was overworking himself.

Another part of you was relieved now, holding this knowledge tightly with the determination to change this and be there for him regardless if you yourself were considering not returning to the ice.

“I should’ve told you sooner.” He was saying and shaking his head. It was strange seeing him so self deprecating.

“You told me now.” You affirmed and one of your hands slid up his chest to hold his face, making him look at you and see the sincerity in your eyes. “I know now and I didn’t go anywhere.”

He nodded and you were worried he was going to cry, eyes shaking as he looked down at you and leaned into your touch against his cheek.

So you did the one thing you could think of, the thing you were practically craving only a few hours earlier, and you surged forward on your toes to kiss him.

He was taken back by your sudden proximity, tensing up when he felt your lips against his and then more so when you rocked back onto your flat feet and awkwardly waited for him to say something.

His mouth parted a few times like he was going to speak but after a second or two passed his eyes were hardening with that familiar determination and he was kissing you.

Kissing you with a desperation of somebody who’d been thinking about it for a long time, hands sliding behind your back to pull you closer and tighter against him.

You smiled against him, his mouth sliding against yours as he kissed you deeper. Your hand that was on his face went to his hair and you felt a shudder run through him at the feeling.

He pulled back to look at you, pressing his forehead against yours like he did in the car and breathing heavily as he looked down at you.

“I love you.” He rushed it out like it was his only chance to say it and then immediately shut his eyes tight like he was embarrassed. “You don’t need to say anything back I just needed to finally say it out loud to someone other than my grandma.”

“Are we going to talk about your grandma everytime you’re about to kiss me?” You laughed and he smiled at you, squeezing your front against him.

“No definitely not.” And he kissed you again.

——

The next week was probably the most stressful of your entire life, which was pretty impressive considering how your childhood and early adult years were basically one big intense competition.

Having to tell not only your coach for the last decade that you were quitting, but also your mother, was probably scarier than any stunt you could attempt.

Coach Suzy, as it turns out, seemed to be expecting it and told you that she was planning to retire once this year’s competitions were over. She apologized for being so harsh on you at times and especially for losing her temper due to her own stress and insecurities.

You forgave her and wrapped her in a tight hug but you could feel Sunghoon glaring at her from behind your back.

Sunghoon had been beyond helpful during the process, both legitimately with the paper work it required and removing yourself from data and emotionally. It wasn’t easy to admit to yourself you were done doing the only thing you’d ever been good at.

“You’re good at lots of things.” He was telling you for probably the tenth time this week. You were laying in his bed, hand in his as he played with your fingers.

You’ve learned a lot about him with all the time you’ve been spending, not everything of course but every new bit of information was exciting to you. You liked seeing him in different moods and settings, this one being your favorite.

You liked him best like this, his now dark hair messily splayed against his pillow, still smelling like sleep and the coffee on his bedside table. You liked the way his fingers sleepily played with the shirt you were wearing, which was of course his, and tugged on it.

“Yeah but I don’t know what.” You were sighing and rolling onto your stomach so you could look at him directly

He was smiling at you with a lazy toothy grin, sitting up just a little against the headboard to be able to see your face better. He leaned his head back and shrugged.

“You never had a chance to be good at something else, it doesn’t mean you’re not princess.” You flushed at his casual words and he noticed, leaning down to kiss your head and laugh. “I knew you liked that.”

“Shut up.” You were grumbling and resting your chin on his chest once he sat back again. “Maybe I did a little but I almost gagged the first time it made me blush.”

He was letting out a throaty laugh and you felt your face vibrate as his chest moved making you laugh quietly with him. He looked pretty like this and you liked the way his dark hair looked, having gone so long without seeing it.

Your tired laughs naturally died down and you turned your head so your cheek was on his chest instead, feeling him breathe and listening to his heart pick up in speed every so often.

“Will you come with when I talk to my mom?” You weren’t embarrassed at the childish hint in your voice, knowing he’d understand why this was way scarier than the other parts.

“Anything for you.” He was still smiling at you but he sounded serious, hand in your hair now as he played with it and kept it out of your face.

It made your stomach flip when he said it because you knew he meant it. He’d been beyond caring and helpful even letting you stay with him, doing quick stops at your apartment after you’d made sure your moms car wasn’t around so you could get some clothes and necessities.

He didn’t seem to mind the company at all, always smiling at you in the mornings and when he came home from the rink to the sight of you on his couch watching a movie or doing the dishes in the kitchen.

He’d even taken you to see his grandma a few more times. He really did mean it when he said he went every day, only missing a single night when it all hit you and you couldn’t stop crying. You felt awful the next morning he’d stay with you and begged him to apologize to her for you when he asked you to come along.

She had a soft knowing smile when you walked in behind him, patting her bed for you to sit and giving you advice on what to say to your mother.

“She’s your mother honey, she’ll love you no matter what you choose to do.” She had whispered to you and you felt your heart crack with the knowledge that wasn’t quite true.

“Her moms a lot like dad.” Sunghoon was mumbling from behind you, he was standing with his hands on your shoulder as you sat on the bed. You weren’t quite sure what that referred to but his grandmas mouth parted in understanding.

“Then there’s nothing you can do.” Her sharp flip in opinion made you glance back at Sunghoon. He gave you a look like he would explain later and you hesitantly looked away. “You can’t live for her, there’s no right there. You need to live for yourself and accept that relationship as a loss.”

You were replaying her words in your mind on a loop as you stood outside your door, suddenly feeling like a stranger who needed to knock before entering. It was never homely but this was the first time you truly realized how cold it felt here.

You knew Sunghoon was right behind you, giving you some space incase you were overwhelmed or felt like you needed to change your mind, but you reached your hand back for confirmation and took a deep breath when you felt his warm hand in yours.

Waiting with baited breath, your knuckles stung from the knocks against the door. You were bouncing your foot anxiously and counting each second before she opened the door.

For just a split second you saw shock and relief pass over her face before it was twisting up in anger and disgust.

“How dare you come here?” She was spitting towards you and you wanted to flinch back away from her, holding your resolve and letting her finish her comments. “And with him of all people.”

When she turned her murderous gaze towards Sunghoon, something was set off in you and you stepped to the side to block him from her view with a glare. She seemed taken back by this, used to you being paralyzed by guilt and fear.

“If you’re here to apologize I don’t want to hear it.” She hissed at you after the shock passed, her anger only building now at your defiance.

“I have nothing to apologize for.” You spat back at her, stuttering slightly with anxiousness. You felt Sunghoon squeeze your hand in his and take a step closer to you and you took a deep calming breath before continuing with a stronger tone. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m here to get my stuff and then we won’t have to see each other again.”

You weren’t sure where this came from, not having made any plans with Sunghoon to stay with him longer. A wave of insecurity hit you at the idea you were overstaying your welcome and he was going to deny you, leaving you with no choice but to find somewhere else to stay with. You had some distant family but you can’t imagine they’d be too ecstatic about taking on an adult with no job.

“And where on earth are you planning to go.” Your mother did what she did best and caught sight of your insecurity, magnifying it with a knowing sneer. “Nobody will want you, ‘ex prodigy’ won’t get you in anywhere.”

“She’s staying with me.” Sunghoon’s voice came from over your shoulder and you felt his front press against you, his hand on your shoulder to steady you. He was having a hard time seeing you like this, anger surging through him as he watched you go weak from fear.

“I want her and she can stay for as long as she needs to. We are just here to get her stuff, like she’s already told you.” His voice was hard and dark, your moms eyes flashing up at him with angry eyes as he spoke so firmly.

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you almost thought she’d turn you away and leave you with absolutely nothing to your name. Eventually, however, she took a step to the side of the doorway and waved the two of you in.

Sunghoon gave you a loaded glance once you were in your living room, you nodded at him and he made his way down the hall to your room while you stayed back with your mother.

“I see he knows his way around.” She scoffed at you and glared at his back as he walked away.

“It’s my house too.” You muttered back at her. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“He ruined you.” She barely let you finish your sentence before she was snapping at you, a finger being raised and pointed in your face. “This is all his fault.”

“This is your fault.” You felt tears well up in your eyes again and shook your head. “If you stopped being a coach and tried being my mother for just one second you would’ve realized that before it was too late.”

“You think he’ll keep you around?” She was twisting her face with a nasty sneer as she took another step towards you. “Regardless how I feel about him, that boy is talented. You think he’ll want you even when he’s an Olympic winner and you’re working a part time job?”

You knew she was wrong, that everything she was saying was so out of Sunghoon’s character and would disgust him just at the thought. But her ability to look into the deepest part of you and see your darkest fears caused you to tense up.

“He loves me.” Was all you could bring yourself to say, willingly him to hurry up and come back out here so the two of you could leave already.

“Yeah, love.” She laughed at the word like the idea of anybody loving you was ridiculous. “You don’t think I loved you? You think this was all for me… that I wanted to be a mean coach.”

She didn’t seem to notice her own contradictions, calling herself your coach right after saying she had loved you. She was getting angry again, wanting to continue this argument and prove you wrong. You were exhausted of it, knowing what Sunghoon’s grandma said was completely right.

“You didn’t love me.” Your voice was firm and certain, leaving no room for denial. “But not because of anything I did wrong.”

You saw Sunghoon over her shoulder, waiting in the hallway with a few boxes and a backpack over his shoulder. He was trying not to listen in on your conversation but also seemingly ready to step in.

He caught your eye and you smiled at him, despite your teary eyes, he could tell you felt relieved and that you were ready to move on from this part of your life. There was no right path here, and in skating, and that was okay.

Your mother didn’t say anything else, not even when he came over to you or when you held the door for him so he didn’t drop any of your boxes. She didn’t close the door after you’d left and you didn’t look back at her as she watched you get in his car and drive away from the only home you’d known.

“I don’t actually have to stay with you if it’s not okay.” You were whispering while he drove. “Thank you for saying it though, saved me from a lot of embarrassment.”

He looked over at you like you’d gone crazy, frowning and shaking his head. He was taking a hand off the wheel and grabbing your still shaky one that was resting on your knee.

“Of course you can stay with me princess.” His voice was serious but warm and you squeezed his hand in yours, suddenly overwhelmed with care and affection.

Maybe not the only home.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst #sunghoon ice skating #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon

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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months

Note

Heyy hope you’re doing well!

Can I request a fem reader with Bi-Han and Kuai Liang? Reader is a highkey mischievous little shit and her favorite pastime is annoying the hell outta Bi-Han (Kuai Liang probably has to stop his brother from crucifying her lol)

Thanks!

Ngl this is extremely rubbish as idk where else to go with this in all honesty. 🦦

Regardless of how you had inserted yourself into the lives of brothers, Bi-Han and Kuai Liang, but one thing was definitive; you enjoyed being the thorn in Bi-Han’s side. From the deep furrow in his brow, the appearance of frown lines and the look of pure annoyance within his dark eyes that were usually in a perpetual state of fatigue in due to his duties of being Grandmaster, those were the highlight of your day. What wasn’t a highlight however was the aftermath where Bi-Han would chase after you throughout the Lin Kuei with an ice dagger.

Much like he was doing right now;

‘Y/n! When I find you, I swear I’ll make an example out of you for disrespecting the Grandmaster!’ Bi-Han shouted, running towards Kuai Liang, ice dagger in hand. ‘What have they done now brother?’ Kuai Liang asked even though he didn’t need to, his eyes drift to the top of his brothers’ head, where sat two pigtails tied with what looked like vibrant pink hello kitty hair ties. Kuai Liang had to try and stop himself from bursting out laughing at the ridiculous sight.

Bi-Han looked at his brother, unamused and annoyed that his hunt was interrupted. You couldn’t have gone far, that he knew for certain, but if there was one thing that Bi-Han has come to know about you was the fact that after pulling your pranks, you’d often seek out his brother for protection against his wrath. It had been your primary escape route in the past, so it made general sense to Bi-Han that you would try and utilise your only way to evade facing the consequences of your actions. ‘From your poor attempt of hiding your snickers, brother. I’m going to assume that you got a right good look what they did to me.’ Bi-Han grunted. ‘Now, where are they?’

Kuai Liang shrugged. ‘Haven’t seen them.’

‘Nows not the time for lies, Kuai Liang.’ Bi-Han warned.

‘I’m being serious Bi-Han, I haven’t seen them. But I’ve heard from some others that they’re with Tomas at the training grounds.’ Kuai Liang said and a brief moment of silence befell the brothers as they stared the other down. ‘You better hope that they’re with Tomas.’ Was all Bi-Han said before he ventured down the hallway, leaving Kuai Liang alone…or not because a voice from behind the younger brother spoke.

‘Is he gone?’

Kuai Liang sighed as he peered over his shoulder to look at you. ‘Yes he’s gone but reallly? Putting his hair into pigtails and hello kitty hair ties?’

‘Not my best work, I know, but I was bored and was running out of ideas and so I thought that the hair ties would be a nice touch.’ You shrugged as you stepped out from behind him, and breathing out a sigh of relief when you couldn’t see the cryomancer anywhere. ‘You can’t always keep doing this, I won’t always be here to shield you and if you’re not carful one day he’ll catch you in the act.’ Kuai Liang warned you, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt as though he’s had this conversation with you multiple times but it doesn’t seems as though his words have stuck with you; for it seemed that recently you were pranking Bi-Han just to tempt fate.

So needless to say that Kuai Liang couldn’t wait for the day where he’d get to say I told you so, would be a severe understatement. For as much as he loved you, it was only a matter of time before Bi-Han inevitably started taking methods in catching you faster.

‘Do you take me for a fool, Kuai Liang? There’s no way that Bi-Han could ever catch me in the act.’ You boasted with a smirk, having grown confident that whilst Bi-Han knew it was you, he had yet to actually catch you. ‘I’m far too slippery for him to catch! I’m gone before he even knows what hit him, and I mean that in both the literal and figurative sense.’

Kuai Liang raised his brows. ‘Oh really?’

‘Really.’ You stated confidently, your smile practically beaming.

‘Then who’s that behind you?’ Kuai Liang asked and immediately the air started to go cold and your smile dropped as slowly but surly you looked over your shoulder to see a murderous Bi-Han stood there, ice dagger still grasped tightly within his hand. ‘Hey Bi-Han.’ You swallowed thickly. ‘Did you do something different with your hair today? It looks nice, suits you even.’ You chuckled nervously as your hands began to sweat upon hearing Bi-Han growl out a single warning from behind his mask.

‘Run.’

‘Good idea.’ You replied swiftly before running off to find some place to hide as Bi-Han followed soon after. Kuai Liang gave it a couple of moments before then deciding to run after the pair of you to mediate the situation like he always did.

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ohthewh0rror · 6 months

Text

I’VE DUG TWO GRAVES FOR US, MY DEAR.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — “Can I request Tom riddle x (fem!) reader angst? Basically, they have been trying for a long time to have children, but haven’t succeeded. So, to have an heir, Tom gets Bellatrix pregnant and obviously hasn’t told reader. Reader finds out shes pregnant and goes to tell Tom and show him the pregnancy test, but right outside his study she hears him ask Bellatrix „how is my heir doing? Is my child healthy?“ and reader drops the test in front of his study, where Tom finds it later, and leaves.”

Part 2

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: “but baaaabe, she doesn’t even mean anything to me” and for him he MEANS it, that’s the worst part. Oh god I’m going to be sick. I headcanon him as loyal and now he’s out here embarrassing me. Anyway, thank you to my best friend Madie for helping me choose the right ending for this and for proof-reading for me. To the requester: I didn’t take the suicide route bc that’s a very sensitive topic that I have personal ties to. But yeah, if anyone wants it I’m 100% down to write a part 2 to this.🖤🖤

You felt wrong.

Well, not exactly you, just something felt wrong. You felt on edge, tense, like you were just waiting for the galleon to drop. There was no explanation for the way you were feeling, at least not one you could think of. But you couldn’t help but feel on edge, your mind racing as you resisted the urge to continuously look over your shoulder throughout the day.

You had hoped that the feeling would be gone by the end of the day, but as you sat with Tom having dinner the feeling was still there. You wanted to hide it from him, but you just knew he could see the slight shake of your hand as you poked mindlessly with your fork at the food in front of you. Though, either out of courtesy to you or him just not wanting to deal with it at the moment, he didn’t ask.

No, it wouldn’t be until the two of you had gotten into bed for the night that he would.

As you settled into bed, you felt Tom’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. While you would normally welcome this, as it was rare that Tom would hold you in such a way, the unusual action added to your sense of unease. You felt his lips press a kiss just behind your ear before he asked, “there’s something bothering you, what is it?”

You didn’t know how to tell him, or if you even wanted to tell him. You didn’t want Tom to think negatively of you, to think you were officially losing it, but a part of you knew Tom wasn’t going to drop it. What Tom wanted, Tom got, one way or another. So, reluctantly, you told him.

“I’m not sure, I just don’t feel right, not in a sick way but—,” you paused, mentally kicking yourself for admitting it out loud, “I feel as if something bad is about to happen, something very bad.” Tom said nothing, but you could feel his hold on you tighten just a fraction. There was a few seconds of silence before Tom finally spoke again, “I see, I’m sure you are alright, you probably just need to rest.”

You know this was his way of comforting you, but it did nothing to help how you felt. You tried taking his words to heart though, and forced yourself to relax, attempting to get some sleep.

6:23 am.

You stared at the ticking hands of the clock on the wall, watching them dutifully count the time, hoping the dullness of it all would help you fall back asleep. It did nothing to help you, though, and instead just aided in helping your mind wander. You went through every possibility, until you were left with two options.

Tom was up to something… or you were pregnant. You didn’t want to think of the first option, it was a thought that left you upset even considering, but he had been distant for the past 4 months. He did not treat you any different, but he seemed… distracted. Where he once did not mind if you opened his letters for him, he now tightly guarded them. You tried asking him why, but he said it was to protect you if things went bad. He attempted to explain your worries away, saying he did not want you implicated in anything he was up to.

Not to mention he was out the house more— Death Eater business, he tells you. Always that. It almost made you angry how much time he spent working towards his grand scheme when all you wanted was just some of his time. At first you tried to push back on it, but soon realized it did nothing to sway him. Tom did what he wanted, regardless of the feelings of others.

Despite all this you refuse to accept Tom may be up to something behind your back. He was your husband, and he loved you, even if he did not express it often. So that left you with one conclusion: you’re pregnant.

It was a possibility that had been hanging in the back of your mind, but not one you wanted to genuinely entertain. After years of trying and it being false alarms have left you with nothing but negative feelings towards the process of finding out. You did not want to get your hopes up once again, as each negative was becoming more and more unbearable.

You couldn’t just rule it out without taking a test though, so you had no choice but to do so. Not wanting to go to a healer and have them check on you magically, you decided to instead go about it the muggle way. You had heard during your younger years, while at Hogwarts, that muggle women had measures of finding out on their own in the comfort of their own bathroom. So that’s what you set off to do, after getting dressed of course.

Entering muggle London, it was hard not to stick out. While you tried to dress as casual as you possibly could, you knew there was still something off about how you dressed. No one seemed to mind though, letting you walk through the busy streets without much more than a double take. It didn’t take long for you to find what looked like a small store, you hoped to Merlin that they had what you needed.

As you walked around the small shop, you realized what you were doing was beyond ridiculous. You were truly out of your league as you browsed the aisles looking for what you needed. You were beginning to get frustrated when you heard a feminine voice from the left, “excuse me, miss, can I help you find something?”

You paused, stopping midstep, turning your head to look at who was speaking to you.

The girl, who couldn’t have been any older than 19, seemed to be a shop attendant. She had on what you could only guess was typical muggle attire, and a vest with the name of the shop on it. You nodded, “yes, I need the test that will tell me if I’m pregnant or not.”

The shop girl gave you a look, and you began to worry more that you were sticking out far too much. “You mean a pregnancy test?” She asked. “Yes, that,” you replied, hoping she would just show you where it was and stop talking to you. Thankfully she seemed to have read your mind, gesturing you to follow her. She took you to the aisle furthest back in the store, pointing out the shelf that was filled with a dozen different options. You thanked her, and she left you alone with all the different tests.

Looking over them all you picked the one you thought would be best, but as you held the test you had a revelation, ‘I have no muggle money’. You froze, now weighing your options. You could leave and convert the money, coming back at a later time, or you could just…take it. Leaving was the morally correct choice, but just taking it was the more tempting one as it would save you the trouble of explaining to Tom why you needed muggle money if word got back to him.

So, looking around and making sure no eyes were on you, you silently cast a spell, hiding the box from any prying eyes. As you walked out the store you couldn’t believe what you had done. Stealing? From a muggle establishment? How scandalous! As you walked down the street you shook your head, banishing the thought from your mind. You didn’t have time to worry about the ethics of stealing from muggles. You needed to know if you were pregnant.

Thankfully, it was a little easier to find a place to use the restroom. You sat on the toilet, reading the box, and the instructions seemed easy enough. You followed them exactly before capping the test, holding it in a way where the results faced away from you. You didn’t want to see the results, too scared of it being negative once again. After what you considered an appropriate amount of time, you flipped the test over.

Positive.

‘It’s wrong, it has to be,’ you thought to yourself as you eyed the muggle pregnancy test. The test was wrong, it’s a defective muggle device. You’d make an appointment with the healer as soon as possible until you could confirm it for sure and you’d keep it a secret from Tom until then. You didn’t want to tell him, only for it to be a false positive and get his hopes up fruitlessly.

So, you wrapped the test tightly and tossed it in the bin. Washing your hands, you made your way out of the muggle establishment, and to an empty corner before apparating to the edge of yours and Tom’s property. You stood there for a moment, taking in the site of your shared home, wishing you had some calming draught on hand.

You knew as soon as Tom saw you he’d know something was wrong. Tom had always said you weren’t a very good liar, and you knew with the state you were in right now that if he tried to pry your secret would come tumbling out before you had the chance to stop it.

You couldn’t stand out here all day though, the November air was more than chilly, and you were going to freeze if you didn’t go in soon. You took a steadying breath and walked forward with your head held high, taking your time to get to the doors, attempting to look casual. You were halfway up the set of stone stairs leading up to the front doors, when they began to open. For a split second you felt yourself panic on the inside, thinking maybe it was Tom who came to greet you, until your house elf Poppy came into view.

“Welcome back, madam,” the little elf said, ushering you in.

“Hello, Poppy,” you said. You had never been happier to see a house elf in your life. As Poppy shut the doors behind you, and she ushered you to the dining room, she informed you that Tom had already left for the day, leaving you to have breakfast alone. Normally that would have left you disappointed, you and Tom made sure to always eat breakfast and dinner together, and this would be the first time in a long time that you ate alone. But, after the morning you had, you relished in the absence of conversation.

“Poppy, please make an appointment for me with a healer,” you asked, sitting down at the dining table. Poppy nodded wordlessly before leaving you to go make the appointment.

It was a week later that you found yourself sitting in a sterile room, awaiting the results. You wanted so desperately for it to be true. You’d never recover if you found out the test had lied. Tom still didn’t know about the possibility of your pregnancy, but then again, it wasn’t hard to hide it from him with how busy he’d been this past week. And seeing as your mind was preoccupied, you hadn’t pushed on what had him so busy.

Just as your mind began to drift from boy names, to more feminine names, the door to your right clicked open. The healer gave you a bright smile, greeting you. The forced politeness left a bad taste in your mouth as you just wished for the results so you could get home. You gave a tight-lipped smile back, and a similar greeting. The healer stopped in front of you, flipping one of the papers up, quickly reading its contents before looking at you once again.

“Well, Mrs. Riddle, it seems you certainly are pregnant!” He congratulates you, before explaining how far along you seem to be and that he needs you back in a month. You’re still in a daze when he hands you the paperwork, telling you your diagnosis and other information regarding your pregnancy. It feels too good to be true, and you’re not sure if you should laugh, cry, or do both as you leave the office.

You’re pregnant. You’re actually pregnant. You walk down a secluded alley, casting the muffliato charm as you buried your head in your hard, a soft cry erupting from you. You both had tried so hard for so long and it’s finally happening, you are finally having the child you both wanted. You let yourself cry from the overwhelming feeling of happiness for a moment longer before collecting yourself. You needed to tell Tom, you knew this was just the news he needed.

Tom was working from home today, something you had never been so happy about before today. It made the process of talking to him much easier than if he left to Merlin-knows-where to do what he needed. But, as you walked up those stairs to the hallway that his office was down you felt your heart plummet.

Tom was here, but so was another woman.

You quieted your steps, hoping to figure out who the woman was and what they were talking about. It was difficult as the door was mostly shut and they were talking in hushed tones. But, as you stepped off the stairs and into the hallway you recognized the voice of the woman immediately.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

A woman that you held more than just disdain for. She is the only female Death Eater Tom has recruited, and not only that, she was his second in command. While Tom didn’t see any of his Death Eaters as true equals, even you knew he seemed to favor her over the rest of them. Bellatrix seemed to revel in this fact, and despite being married herself, her loyalty seemed to lay more with your husband than her own. She did whatever Tom asked, no matter what it may be, without even a hint of resistance. You truly believe if Tom asked her to kill herself, she would do it without hesitation.

As you walked closer to the door they seemed to have stopped talking, but before you could knock and let yourself be known, you heard something that knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“You had a check-up last week, did you not? How is my heir?” Tom sounded casual, as if he was asking Bellatrix about the weather. His heir? His heir? Your mind was sent reeling as you began to hyperventilate. You quietly backed away from the door, walking as silently but also as quickly as you could away. But, as you turned to leave you nearly tripped over your own two feet, the papers you were holding falling to the ground. In your distress you left them, not being bothered to pick them up, as you caught yourself and hurried down the hallway intent on putting space between yourself and the cracked office door.

You found yourself in a guest room on the other side of the house, away from Tom and Bellatrix, away from the source of your heartbreak. You sit on the edge of the bed, and cast the muffliato charm for the second time today. After you cast the spell, you finally let yourself feel completely. Your heart shatters into tiny crystallized bits, the shards of it dig into every crevice of your sternum, leaving you clutching at your chest as it pierces your lungs and esophagus. Your chest and throat have an indescribable ache as a piercing wail leaves you, the pain of his betrayal leaving you feeling something beyond devastation.

The knowledge that he cheated on you was painful enough, but the fact that it was Bellatrix made it all the more painful. He knew how you felt toward their dynamic and his trust in her. It was as if he chose her on purpose, to tell her that Bellatrix is a more suitable partner for him.

How Bellatrix was everything she wasn’t: unwaveringly devoted to him, believed in his pureblood ideology, and stood by him on it. Bellatrix could also give him children, and she couldn’t.

Or so he thought. He didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Maybe that was for the best, you considered, as you sat in that empty room, fingers wringing together painfully as you tried to calm yourself. As you attempted to gather yourself, knocking on the door began to reverberate throughout the room, causing a panic inside you. You cleared your throat, and took in a breath, hoping to gather yourself before addressing who was on the other side. Lifting your wand you released the muffling charm, “come in.”

Your voice still wobbled as the words left you, leaving you mentally kicking yourself. The door opened, revealing Tom, on the other side. As he took in the sight of you, sniffling and teary-eyed, he walked in completely, softly shutting the door behind him. Looking at him sent a surge of anguish through you, a new wave of tears gathering in your eyes. The vision of Tom doubled as your lips began to wobble as you held back your tears. You were unable to see the look on Tom’s face as you looked away, trying to calm yourself once again, so you weren’t quite sure what he was thinking.

Getting on one knee before you, Tom placed his left hand on your knee as his right reached up, wiping at your tear streaked face. You let out a shuddering breath, finally looking at him. Tom’s face was the most expressive you’d ever seen it, if you hadn’t been in such a miserable state you would have taken a moment to admire it.

There was a look of genuine worry on his face as the both of you looked at each other. The silence was suffocating, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be the one to break it. There was nothing you wanted to say to him, you could hardly bear to look at him, much less talk to him.

“Why are you upset, darling? This is wonderful news” Tom sounded sympathetic in his attempt to comfort you. You let out a laugh in disbelief, you could not believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Wonderful news? In what world is this ‘wonderful news’?” You were close to yelling by the time you finished talking, feeling your sadness morph into something far uglier: anger. Tom at least had the decency to look taken aback, seeming to not expect the response he received.

Tom’s eyes searched yours for a moment before his expression became guarded, he gave your hand a squeeze before standing up, “it seems we are talking about two different things.”

You said nothing, there was nothing you could say that he hadn’t just deduced for himself, and it seemed he knew that too as he continued speaking.

“Y/N, you have to understand, I needed to ensure I had an heir and we hadn’t been successful in getting you pregnant,” Tom tried to explain. You’re sure in his head that this was logical, just the rational choice to get around your fertility issues. But to you, this was anything but the best next step. There was no reasoning good enough to make this okay; it will never be okay. This is a wound that may scar over, but will always ache when brushed against.

“You had an affair with a woman who I already voiced my concern about, without even consulting me on your decision, and expect me to understand?” You asked, incredulously. Tom, though looking mildly annoyed, still had the decency to also seem a touch guilty. “I didn’t step out of our marriage for pleasure or some sort of validation, you've always been the only one for me, it was merely to—” you decide to cut him off. “Produce an heir,” was all you said, finishing his sentence for him.

A heavy silence hung in the air, what you said leaving a palpable bitterness in the air. Tom still had the same touch of guilt in his eyes, but it wasn't enough. The guilt wasn’t strong enough to let him take full accountability for how wrong he was. Tom reached out, his hands cupping the back of your neck as his thumbs grazed your jawline, forcing you to look at him.

“It will be okay, I made a mistake by not telling you my plans, I apologize,” Tom may have sounded sincere, but it wasn’t good enough. Nothing will ever make up for what he has done to not only your relationship, but also to your trust in him. You reached up, and gently removed his hands from your face before standing up yourself, forcing him to take a few steps back.

“No, it’s not going to be okay; it will never be ‘okay’. You didn’t just make a mistake, you ruined our marriage, and for that, Tom, I hate you.”

And you left.

Leaving your husband to stand in that spare room, alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company.

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #if this flops I’ll cry

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

Note

ok but imagine instead of kie getting taken by singh’s men it’s JJ & Y/N who would do anything for each other.

like “don’t touch her!” and “let go of him!” and singh realizes their in love and ugh. been thinking about this

most definitely can imagine this and i’m gonna die on the spot so i made this little blurb to satisfy our imaginations. send me your thoughts and i’ll elaborate on them !

cw; fluff, mentions of death, guns, & s3

pairing; jj x fem!reader

The inseparable pair knew they were preeminently fucked.

No sign of parasitical nuance or help for miles, just the company of the other. Selfishly, though either of them are thanking God, that they’ve gotten captured with the other. For no one else of the Pogues would bring such infamous relief and solace— being completely infatuated tended to do that.

And at least if they die in this place, they die together.

Getting to experience a love so unheard of.

You shivered in the bed of the truck— boring your eyes with envy at the gaurd that stood tall upon arrival to Singh’s ‘operation’. If only you’d gone the same route as Kie, Pope, John B, Sarah, and Cleo, such an impact as the plane delving into water had you borderline shell shocked. But, JJ wasn’t having that either, immediately b-lining in your same opposite direction— wherever you stray, he follows.

Which explains this phenomenon before you.

The harsh metal in the truck bed is making your ass go completely numb, knees tucked into your chest in complete and utter panic. JJ’s stomach was whirling with fear, yet he vowed not show it, pulling you into his side— even in the first moments the two of you were shoved and practically thrown back there. His arm envelops you tightly, his slightly grown out mullet catching air lightly whilst he rests his chin on your shoulder. A mesh of two soaking bodies, kneading into one another.

“Gonna’ get us out of here baby.” Is all JJ whispers into the shell of your ear, before peppering sweet domestic kisses to your temple, the contact granting him some form of grace. Now you knew JJ’s plans were elaborate and full of unnecessary schemes but sometimes they worked and sometimes they didn’t. You were choosing to trust that whatever he could weasel his way into this time, would work.

The halt of the truck was sudden, sending you and JJ to a slight jolt forward. A bright white, poled in mansion-like image is in view; bulging eyed stares are shared between the two of you and JJ is secretly shitting himself as he’s walking into this blind. Guards similar to the one towering over you in the truck bed are surrounding the home, khaki colored uniforms a compliment to the guns accompanying them. Such variety as they all held one with a differentiating aim.

No words are spoken, not even a ‘get out’. Though you are being yanked up by your arm like a rag doll— wasn’t exactly something you were prepared for. Two guards stand opposite, winnowing down the trunk flat. In one swift movement, his large tight fist is clamping down onto your much smaller arm. The form of security that rode in the truck bed with you and JJ, mimicks— doing the same to JJ as the other is doing to you.

JJ is biting down so violently on his bottom lip, that the familiar taste of metallic blood is seeping into the inside of his mouth. Putting hands like that on his girl, is nearly asking ‘do you want me to splatter your brains across this pavement?’, and he’d gladly do it with a grin on his face. His vice grip is so tight on you, that his fingernails are leaving crescent moon indentions into your untouched skin, and JJ can feel his insides boiling with pure distaste.

All it takes is maybe two steps out of the truck, toward the unpromising place and JJ elbowing the man in his best, knocking his breath away. He’s squirming to get to you, and you haven’t peered back at him yet. “Let go of her fucking arm, you piece of shit.” JJ spat, nailing your gaurd at the back of his ankle with the spiked bottom of a his combat boot. Walking separate in pairs, not even making it the doomed front door.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, big shot.”

Your guard turns, taking you with him to face JJ. With roaring sun causing a slight glint in your eye. Falsified nickname, is fueling the ignition to the fire that’s burning tauntingly inside of him. The gaurd that’s sustaining JJ, has his arms stuffed dislocated like behind his back, and you wanted to stomp his face in unrecognizable.

Unbeknownst to the pair, Singh had been watching— taking note that the arrival time was much too late than as planned. Gazing through the stained glass filled doors, the alluring scene unfolding before him beneath his shaded driveway was entertaining. His muscular guards, unable to withstand two teenagers.

“Don’t ever touch him like that.”

You bit back, the way his arm was twisted it could’ve passed for being broken. Just as your boyfriend was protective of you, you were protective of him. That’s just how the dynamic always worked. Consequences don’t come to mind when you cherish your lovers life over your own— there could be a gaping hole that’s causing the world to cave in, if one was to fall the other is diving in, no second thoughts.

He’d balance with bare feet on boiling hot coals.

And you’d walk into a bank, full ski mask on, to rob it.

It doesn’t matter the length, their relationship is evidence of doing anything for someone.

So tight knit that everyone back home in Kildare was typically aware of the couples unwavering deepened love. Affectionate, intimate, and everything in between.

If they were to go on living it wouldn’t be without the other.

It wasn’t dumb luck, it was fate.

It’s taking Singh seeing this moment to fully understand that. He’s taken aback by the powerful besot, does it mean he will ease up on them, no. To Singh, those lives are of no importance to him, the gold came before anything.

“Your gonna’ earn your boyfriend here a shot to the head. That what you want?”

JJ can’t help but smirk mischievously at you for rooting for him. He was quite the sight, darkened eyes through damp tresses, muscles prominent past his sleeveless tee. Definitely not something you should be paying grace attention to right now. A gun is lifted to the center of JJ’s forehead, but you don’t fault. Figuring you’ve already trampled through all this mess, what’s the worst.

“Then you’ll have to shoot me too.”

“Glady-“

“You will do nothing of the sort. They are in love y’know.”

The short man with slick hair comes into view, signaling the guards to release the two of you. Embracing eachother within milliseconds, you are colliding with JJ’s chest. A slow kiss is shared, one that is full of yearn and luminous luster. Hands roaming to assure themselves that they were there in one piece and alive. This earns a clap from Singh, more than right about the couple being instantaneously in love.

“So what? cause’ they’re in love they get a free pass?!”

The guards stood dumbfounded, faces scrunched in disgust at Singh thinking all of this under-minded work to get them their was for nothing. All Singh could do was chuckle— they really didn’t know him, did they?

“Perhaps they will hold hands in death, if they don’t get me what I want.”

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #obx3 #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x kiara carrera #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank imagines

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candyk0rn · 1 month

Note

Hey, can I request a break up with Nanami, Gojo, and Geto? I'm in a mood for angst :')

⚘Breakup⚘

Woah okay first time I’ve ever written smth like this so I’m excited! Thanks for the ask, have a good day/night!

Warnings: ummm breaking up with someone is sad y’all

Included: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru

G.Satoru:

Fights or arguments don’t really happen with Gojo

Because he doesn’t let them happen

When things get even the slightest bit heated, he avoids them

He erases them with clinginess and jokes, always brushing it off when he should definitely be serious

And this is one of many things that drew your relationship to its inevitable end

Not only was it his lack of ability to read the room, but also his dangerous job

With the privilege of being considered the ‘strongest’, that means the strongest enemies are after him as well

You cannot begin to count the amount of times he said he’d leave for a three day mission, only to be gone for an entire week with no further communication

There’s a large risk at hand with being even so much as associated with Gojo

Let alone being his romantic partner

A certain bounty has been placed on your head too, you’re sure.

And that is just dusting against the surface of the cracks that eventually took control of your relationship

And to be honest, he doesn’t take the break up that serious either

Not until you stop returning your calls and haven’t come home for a few hours

Maybe it’ll make him realize, but who knows?

N.Kento:

Nanami is tricker than Gojo.

But in some regards, I believe he’s very similar

For Nanami is perceived, at least, to be a ‘simple’ man

For someone who hates work, who would much rather go on a long vacation,

He takes his occupation extremely seriously

Both his normal income job and his sorcerer work

And sometimes you truly felt he held his job before you, his partner

And sometimes, he would openly admit to taking priority elsewhere than with you

Which, in some cases understandable, still hurts

One time, later in your relationship, he has forgotten your anniversary

Well, he hadn’t forgotten it fully

But he didn’t celebrate in anyway, needing his hours at work

Nor did he intend to celebrate in anyway, even though much earlier to the date you told him you would like to

Unlike Gojo, the breakup is rather smooth

He simply and utterly refuses to leave on a bad note

And he will not only leave in good terms, but he wants to leave respectfully

But he will be in shock for a very long time afterwards

And he doubts the feeling of deep regret will leave anytime soon…

G.Suguru:

I don’t think people really recognize how others are affected when someone begins to spiral

Not only is the person who is going through the hard time hurting and being drained, the person helping is drained too

And unfortunately, this is what happened to yours and Geto’s relationship

Seeing someone you care for so deeply begin this downward trajectory is hard

And you swore to be by his side through it all..

Until he began to do some things you didn’t exactly approve of

Once the count of dead began rising by his hand, you found yourself losing sympathy bit by bit

It’s a hard pill to swallow, it’s a difficult thing to accept

And it’s an even worse thing to end

To hang on to the hope that the old Suguru is simply trapped behind a mask of pain would be futile

It’s either accept unfortunate route his travelled down, or follow in your own beliefs

And even though you once thought you could help him wash his hands clean of blood,

There will always be a spot left unattended

And spots only grow until you no longer see skin

Only red.

He doesn’t actually believe you at first when you bring up leaving him

In fact, he says to your face he doesn’t believe you

Like Gojo, he assumes that after you calm down you’ll be running back to him

But you don’t

And there’s very few times he’s felt regret.

He has done everything in his power to make sure the word isn’t even in his vocabulary

But there��s that sting in his heart and that dizziness in his head

That can only be described as loss.

Thanks for reading!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #angst #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #x reader #fanfic #fyp #headcanons #x y/n #for you page

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belovedwhore · 1 year

Text

pretty boy pt 4

ethan landry x reader

warnings: smut, little bit of plot, slight nipple play, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation

notes: sorry i’ve been gone for a while but i’m back and i come bearing gifts. i hope you enjoy this cuz i grinded this shit outttt. anyways enough chit chat please enjoy and indulge you ethan obsession below

also he was at econ

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5 , pt 6

————————————————————————

it’d been almost a week since the party and the morning after where you and ethan had hooked up. you guys haven’t done anything since, not really having time between your opposing classes or any opportunities to sneak away from your friend group when you all hung out. but you’d see him tonight at yet another frat party chad was dragging your friend group to.

“chad what are you a frat boy now,” you asked while your friend group walked campus, making your way back to your apartments to get ready for the party.

it was already 7:30pm and you guys wanted to meet up again around 9pm to walk to the party together.

“fits the role, i mean look at him he’s a curly headed himbo,” tara teased.

“hey i’m not a frat boy,” chad argued, “but… if i were that wouldn’t be a bad thing ya know not all of them are douchey assholes.”

“yea, only ones named chad,” mindy chimed.

“oh fuck off,” he scoffed as the rest of us laughed.

after like twenty more minutes you arrived at tara’s apartment building. you held the door as mindy, tara, and anika headed inside. chad was going to head to his dorm to get ready and come back later.

“see you later,” he spoke as he started to leave.

“oh wait,” you stopped him, “is ethan coming tonight?”

he smirked at your question, making kissy faces teasingly as you inquired about your “friend”.

“oh fuck off is he or not?”

“yea he’ll be there but later than us, he has a late econ class tonight so he’s coming on his own,” chad finally answered.

“ok, good,” you replied nodding to yourself.

“well i’ll be back,” he said heading for the door, “see you soon sex demon.”

this goddamn nickname, fucking tara.

as promised chad returned about an hour later and you guys all left for the party. it wasn’t too far a walk, just fifteen from tara’s apartment. the theme for the party was neon so you opted for a white crop top with a neon pink skirt. the other girls pretty much went for the same thing just a different variety of colors. and of course our beloved himbo went for the sleeveless route with a pair of neon blue shorts. the five of you arrived at the house and were let into the party. it was a house party, nothing too crazy but there were a lot more people than usual, the lighting dim in the living room with blue leds around. anika and mindy left to go find a spot on a couch somewhere, they enjoyed people watching at these things. you, tara, and chad spotted a table of jell-o shots, each taking down three. you guys talked as the alcohol started to affect you, dancing and singing to the music. after a while you guys headed to kitchen to get some more to drink. the lighting was better in the kitchen as the three of you took three shots of vodka together. as you slightly zoned out you felt the shots start to warm your skin as you had just downed your sixth of the night, giggling with tara fumbling for a drink to carry around. snapping you out of your daze was a yell that came from chad.

“ethan,” he screamed across the island over the loud music, “you made it.”

ethan made his way to over to the them on the other side of the island, slightly stumbling.

he drunkenly laughed, “hey guysss, look it’s my friends!”

he wrapped his arms around the three of you, well as best as he could. you weren’t exactly sure how he was already drunk and better yet a little drunker than you.

“ethan buddy,” chad laughed, “when’d you get here and how are you so fucked up?”

“i’m not ‘fucked up’ chad,” he playfully punched him, “just slightly buzzed, and some guys from my class said they were coming here too and invited me to pregame.”

“pregaming wow,” tara gasped patting him on the shoulder, “who are you.”

you laughed at her exaggeration, tara was quite outspoken well more than usual and touchy when she drank, very similar to you.

she chirped, “chad come with me we’re gonna go kick ass at pong,” grabbing his hand leading him into the crowd.

“you mean i’m gonna kick ass at pong while you stand there looking hot,” he scoffed, allowing himself to be dragged away leaving you and ethan alone in the busy kitchen.

his hand began to dance along your waist tracing the exposed skin, sending chills up your body.

“i haven’t seen you in a while,” he told you, moving closer so you could hear him clearly.

“i know,” you swiftly answered.

“i’ve missed you, you know, in more ways than one,” he trailed off, his hand reaching up your back.

“oh really,” you inquired, “you’re cute like this.”

“like what.”

“drunk and talkative and touching me.”

“oh i-i could do more of that, hmm” he whispered moving closer to your face.

“mhmm i’d really like that-,” you rushed out kissing him quickly.

you both melted into the kiss, having not seen each other for days, longing for each others touch. ethan took control for the first time in this kiss. you felt him bite your bottom lip slightly, pulling it and using this as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. his tongue explored the depths of your mouth, eager to know you better. you moaned into the kiss, pulling him closer to you by his waist when suddenly you felt him pull away. you were both breathing heavily, his lips were red and plump from your kiss and you only wanted to do it again.

“upstairs,” he spoke, taking your hand and leading you to any empty room.

took about four tries but finally you found an unlocked and unoccupied room, rushing inside. as you entered the room ethan quickly resumed your kiss walking you back until the back of your legs hit the bed and you both fell atop of it. he hovered above you kissing you strongly and massaging your thigh. he brought your leg to his waist, grinding onto your center as he moved his lips to your neck. he kissed your earlobe, sucking marks into your skin that were sure to be seen tomorrow. you whimpered as he nipped at your neck, licking stripes after irritating the area.

“e-ethan,” you moaned, gripping his hair tightly.

moving your hand down his body you reached his clothed cock, hidden under his joggers. you began to palm him through the material, massaging his hardening member as he trembled above you. then you felt him grab your wandering hand and move it above your head, now straddling your hips.

breathing heavily he removed his own hand, moving his lips down your chest, pressing quick, wet kisses to your collarbone and down the valley of your chest. he rubbed your tits through your shirt and bra, peeling back the layers to reveal your plump tits and hardened nipples to the air. he immediately attached his lips to one nipple while playing with the other, rolling it between his fingers, pinching it. you squirmed under his body, yearning for any type of friction to help relieve pressure on the knot forming inside of you as he tended to you nipples. he switched to the other, swirling his tongue around the bud sucking on it. you jolted under him as he pinched and pulled at your chest, the fleeting pain soothed by the lick of his tongue.

“you are so fucking hot,” ethan groaned into your abdomen, kissing farther and farther down.

he reached your skirt, looking up to you for permission to take it off which you granted by helping him take them off. he now knelt on the ground in front of you on the bed, legs spread in front of him bearing your clothed cunt. he placed your legs over his shoulders, resting his head between your thighs, breathing directly on your cunt.

“ethan p-please,” you whined, moving your hips, pushing your mound closer to him begging him to do something, anything.

he pressed his thumb on your slit, running it through your clothed folds. you could feel his breath on your cunt, laughing to himself as he teased you. he found your clit, massaging it under his finger feeling it enlarge. taking a deep breath you quickly lightly kicked ethan onto the floor before removing your panties yourself since he clearly had no plan to anytime soon.

“stop fucking around,” you cursed breathlessly now sitting up on the bed with your legs spread.

you took off your shirt and bra, tossing them somewhere onto the floor. ethan still lay on the floor looking up at your now fully naked body. he was basically salivating at the lips, moving closer to you as you started moving your hands towards your bundle of nerves. you reached your cunt, dipping your fingers in one swipe making you moan loudly at the sensitivity of your nerves. ethan approached again, kneeling between your legs heading straight for your cunt. he licked between your folds as you lay back on your arms watching him.

“oh my god,” you moaned.

“y-you’re so wet,” he whispered between your legs, delving back into your pussy.

he placed his entire mouth on your heat, flicking his tongue between your folds, collecting your fluids. he sucked on your clit strongly, gripping your hips, keeping you close to his face. you dropped on the bed unable to hold yourself up any longer. whining under his touch, you grinded your pussy on his face eager for more.

“ethan fuck i-i,” you stuttered as he attacked your clit, “so good.”

he groaned at your praise, sending vibrations through your body as his mouth was attached to your heat. you could feel the bundle of nerves become tighter in tighter in your core, close to unraveling.

“m’ so close pretty boy,” you moaned out with a string of profanities.

suddenly you felt his tongue enter inside of you, licking the inside of your walls and you nearly came right there. you gasped, the feeling shocking you as you moaned with pleasure.

“don’t- don’t stop,” you pleaded although it was clear ethan had no intention of doing that.

he gripped your hips tighter, pushing his tongue deeper into your cunt, fucking you with it. you squirmed in his hold, struggling to keep yourself composed as you rapidly approached your high. your legs trembled on his shoulders as you started to lose strength in your limbs. fucking you harder and faster with his tongue you lost all composure and came hard. you released all over his tongue and mouth as he rode you through your high, still attached to your sensitive heat. your legs trembled, falling limp as your body shook with your orgasm, ripping through every part of you.

“ethan,” you groaned weakly, “fucking hell.”

you pulled him off of your cunt by slightly tugging on his hair, the overstimulation getting to be too much. he crawled up to your position on the bed, kissing your forehead and all around your face with your juices lathered across his face.

“good?” he asked as if you weren’t violently cumming in that very mouth sixty seconds ago.

“really fucking good,” you answered quietly.

“can you do it again?” he whispered, reaching his fingers down to toy with your pussy.

“you-” you gasped as he ran his fingers through your overly sensitive folds, “m’not gonna be able to walk.”

“i’m strong, i’ll carry you.”

“you’re not gonna fucking ca-,” you spoke interrupt by two of his fingers stretching your cunt.

“cmon for me,” he whispered, “for your pretty boy.”

you couldn’t deny the pleasure, as you nodded for him to continue fucking you with his fingers. he started slow, curling them inside you while observing your face contort at the stimulation. he kissed you softly as he began to fuck into you faster, curling deeper and harder into your already sensitive cunt. you moaned into the kiss, now opened mouthed looking at his fingers move in and out of you. as your head rolled back from the familiar building pressure in your cunt ethan placed kisses along your neck, sucking marks into the skin and whispering sweet nothings into your ear,

“gonna cum in my pants,” he breathed into your ear, “y-you’re too much.”

his words spurred you on as you rolled your hips against his fingers chasing your second release of the night. for the final time ethan increased his pace, now ramming his finger deeply into your cunt. the sound was obscene as his fingers rapidly entered your cunt still filled with your previous release along with your new arousal. you whimpered under his touch,

“oh my, fuck fuck,” you yelled, approaching your high.

ethan kissed you as your second orgasm ripped through you. you pushed his hand out of you, unable to take the overstimulation again. he rubbed your legs as they twitched while you came. your breath was heavy, unable to take the orgasms you’d reached in the span of five minutes. you turned your head towards him, kissing him weakly with all the strength you had.

“only you, pretty boy,” you spoke breathlessly, “only fucking you.”

he helped you sit up as you needed to get dressed.

“i was nervous,” he told you as he fetched your clothes from all over the room, “never done that before.”

“be nervous more then cause you nearly fucking killed me.”

he looked worried before you clarified, “in a good way.”

“ohhh, kay good,” he smiled kissing all over your face before helping you dressed.

you put on your bra and top okay. but you let ethan put on your skirt and panties because of the current state of your legs. he kneeled on one knee, letting you hold his shoulders as you stepped into your panties and he pulled them up your legs, same with the skirt.

“ok, let’s go everyone is probably looking for us,” you said as you stepped forward but faltered.

he caught you by your hips, laughing at your inability to really walk on your own.

you lightly punched him in the shoulder, “this isn’t funny, you did this to me. what are we supposed to tell everyone?”

“i don’t know,” he shrugged still smiling.

“oh fuck you,” you scoffed turning around, “now help me out of here.”

ethan hurried to your side, opening the door and guiding the two of you out of the room.

#smut #scream 6 #ethan landry smut #ghostface #scream #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #no plot whatsoever #scream fanfic

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 days

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The Sticking Point 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: Three day weekend but I got coursework.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Banished from the library, you refuse to slink back to your rooms and hide. Your position might remain tenuous but you are meant to be the lady of this house. One day. Soon enough. So much as you dread it, and Lord Laufeyson does too, it is inevitable.

You retreat down the hall and descend the grand staircase to the first level. You pass between the serpentine statues and cross the airy space of the entrance hall. Several servants observe your passing but retain their propriety and silence.

The doorman lets you out into the sunshine. You might have brought a parasol but it is too late now. You come down the steps onto solid earth and peer around at the lush green gardens that further bolster the estate's name.

You retrace the path Odin led you on the previous day. You stop to admire roses in canary yellow and the orange tree transplanted from some faraway land. As he showed you it all, you could hear the pride which made this place so coveted. There's a peace that comes with the medley of colours and scents that mingle in the sprawl of curated gardens.

As you reach the hedges higher than your own head, you become disoriented. You do not to clearly remember which way to turn. Certainly you cannot lose yourself enough to not find the route back.

The statue of the lady in repose is familiar and the bird bath trimmed in stone lilies similarly nostalgic. You try to fathom that it is all meant to be yours. It is no easy plight to reconcile the duke’s loathing with expectation: your own, those of your parents, and society in itself.

You tarry by the circle of benches around a weeping tree. The curtain of branches has you curious to delve into its arches and yet the webbing of spiders keeps you from mussing your dress. As all things, your caution keeps you from action.

You turn back as the sun shifts and the clouds crawl over the sky. You wind around and come to stare down a wooden archway twined in vines and moss. You do not recollect that from Odin's exploration. You must have lost your way, you are not headed back to the estate but away from it.

Uncertain, you spin back again and your feet turn fleet as worry mounts. You veer this way and find yourself at a wall of hedges, you turn that way and find yourself circling around back to the same place. You cannot make sense of it.

You begin to weary as the sky dims further and a coolness settles in the air. Time passes and you remain trapped in the labyrinth of branches and brambles. What should happen might you truly be lost?

For a moment, the premise is not so unhappy. It would assuage many malignancies. The duke would no longer be bound to your horrid existence, nor would you be vowed to face ridicule for the years to come. He might even let himself smile to think you gone, if not perished.

You fall onto a bench and hold your head in your hands. Edith would love these gardens. If it were her, would she invite you to see them? Would she chase you as if you were still girls? Would the duke not fret so much for you, ignore you as so many others do? You would be only an occasional nuisance, not a pair of shackles to constrain him.

You make yourself sit up as your sister's ghost drifts away from you. You should like to hear her voice one more time. You miss her songs and her laughter. You miss talking to her, the way she listened, the way she never falter at the errant whas or whoas of your affect.

You rise and set your feet straight. What were those words she said to you? That she believed in you. That you could do this. Perhaps, this is what you wished for. That you take her pain instead. Would the duke have been kinder to her or just as cruel in his resent?

You promised her. You don't care what you swore to your father or mother, but for Edith, you will do it. You will be as brave as she thought you to be. Even if you aren't. Even if you're terrified.

You walk without a thought, twisting and turning, eyes set, steps decisive. You march into the open, away from the walls of foliage and into the sunlight that appears from behind the sheet of clouds. You turn your face up.

You cannot be your sister, you cannot truly replace her. But you can be you and the duke will just have to accept it. After all, how can a second son begrudge a second daughter? The disparity between you is not so great after all. It cannot be if you are to be wed.

You trod around the front of the estate and shake out your skirts, errant leaves and twigs untangling from the hem. You push your shoulders back as if your mother is their to rebuke your posture and you take the stairs with a straight spine. The doorman once more lets you past and you thank him, aloud, with more than a nod.

You proceed through, chin up, and ascend the staircase with your eyes ahead, not on your feet. As you come to the top, you do not falter, but another does. You glance over at Lord Laufeyson as he leans back on his heel, scuffing to a halt as you breeze by. He arches a brow and you mimic his expression, a moment of reflection between you before you pass and carry on.

You do not look back, keeping your shoulders square, and you stop before your rooms. You can sense his silhouette looming by the staircase though you do not know if he watches. You hope that he does and that he sees that you will not disassemble so easily.

🔹

The banns are read on Sunday. You sit in the pew with your betrothed as he refuses to acknowledge you. It is not as big an insult as he may believe. You are very much acquainted with being ignored. You often prefer it.

Upon your return to Jade Park, lunch is served. As the meals prior, you remain silent as you sit among the Odinson clan, still yet to be permitted into their ranks.

Your appetite is as sparse as your voice. You poke at a pastry but don’t taste it. As Lord Laufeyson stirs his tea repetitively, likely out of agitation, you find the clink of the small silver spoon tweaks your already fraught nerves.

The banns will be read once more; they were first sent to the church the Sunday prior to your departure - and must be proclaimed at least thrice before you are permitted to marry. Should you not undergo the necessary pre-marital purgatory, there may be whispers of scandal. Why should anyone rush a marriage if not for good reason?

It is certain that you will face gossip at it were. If Lady Jane’s reaction is anything to measure by, not to mention your own fiance, then you wouldn’t like to add to your plate. Your fork sinks through the pastry and scrapes the porcelain egregiously.

Without hesitation, Lord Laufeyson reaches over to clutch your wrist, “please.”

You wriggle in his grasp and retract. You put your fork down and hide your hands in your lap. Your stomach is a maelstrom of emotions. Your eyes wander up to meet Odin’s as his own flit away from his son as Frigga chews behind tightly sealed lips. She swallows and clears her throat, taking a sip from her teacup.

“So, as we await the nuptials, it would be high time for our lovely lady to debut, hm?” She declares as she perches up a little straighter, “it should be done before the wedding, I think. It wouldn’t be very fair to her should she face her wedding guests as a stranger.”

“If you insist, you may take her to one of your ridiculous luncheons,” Loki taps his spoon on the edge of his saucer and his father sneers. Their eyes meet and the elder tilts his head dangerously. The younger plunks the spoon back in and starts to stir again.

“Well, Loki, surely you would want to accompany her yourself,” his mother insists, “the Countess Kyringfort is holding a banquet the night after this. Perhaps we all might be free of these walls for an evening.” She offers a gentle smile, “and dear,” she looks at you, “I know you would be grateful for a distraction. Have you any letters from home since?”

You frown at the elusion to your sister’s tragedy. It’s still raw. At the same, your sadness feels intimate to the point you are possessive of it. How can anyone who didn’t know Edith speak of her as they miss her? They all just mourn what could have been. They could have had a proper lady there in your place.

“Naw,” the end of the word strays despite your effort, “my motha must be too distwaught to white.”

Loki sighs and the table jerks on its legs as Odin glowers at his son. The younger flinches and gives a grunt. His father’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“You will take your betrothed to the banquet and stop being such a petulant child,” Odin grits out.

“Husband, he hadn’t even said--” Frigga begins.

“She is a gentlewoman. She needn’t his side eye and his sighs,” the grand duke insists.

You’re struck by his defence of you. Your own father would only have commiserated with Lord Laufeyson’s irritation. Most would share a laugh behind their hands at your expense, and certainly they will at this banquet.

“Lady Ky—Kyw—Ky--” you begin, trying to get it right.

“Kyringfort,” Loki utters as if it should be simple.

“Kywingfowt,” you insist on saying it yourself. If he will not speak to you, he will not speak for you. “I’ve never hawd of haw. You said she is a countess?”

“Oh, she is lovely,” Frigga preens, “and an old friend, right, Loki?”

“Yes, so she is,” he agrees, “more fond of my brother than myself.”

“And who can hardly blame her,” Odin rebukes hotly.

Laufeyson shakes his head and his brow arches as his nostrils flare dangerously. As unkind as he has been to you, you are empathetic to the constant reprimands from his father. You recall how Lord Thor and Lady Jane also took no issue in reproaching him. If he’d listen, he might learn that you know well what that is like.

“Yes, he is rather amusing,” Loki mutters. “As eldest sons are given leave to be.”

“Oh, I’ve never known a groom so gloomy,” Odin retorts.

Laufeyson scoffs. He stills the spoon and leaves it to rest against the brim, fisting his hand on the tabletop, “do I complain?”

“You mope like a beat dog,” Odin accuses, “my oh my, a banquet and a new wife, and you act as if you walk to the gallows.”

“Father, you do always see the worst in me.”

“I see an unthankful rascal. You have an estate and I ask one thing of you. The same duty of any lord and you would act as a prisoner. Well, son, you have your choice. Find a morsel of gratitude in that blackened heart of yours or seek your place at some parish,” Odin warns as he jabs a butter knife in the air.

Tension roils in the air between the men as they glare at one another. Laufeyson snarls and it rolls up his throat. Before the noise can become words, you sit forward and touch your throat.

“If I may, Lawd Odin,” you cheep, your voice nearly whistling in the tightness of your airway, “your son has been vewy hospitable. I have enjoyed my time at Jade Gawdens thus faw and I look fawad to calling it home. It is beautiful.” You glance over at Laufeyson as he watches you with stunned dismay, “and as we awe still stwangas I think we need some time to become ac—acwauinted.”

You smile as best you can. It is a bitter lie. You don’t know why you should tell it but you feel as if you must. Frigga’s cheeks shake as she holds her smile and Odin scowls.

“You lie well for him,” he shakes his head, “and still he does not see how fortunate he is.”

Odin sits back heavily and takes his glass of sherry, downing it in a single swig. Laufeyson picks up his spoon and stirs once more, only to drop it and stand sharply. He brings his hands up, his long fingers extending, and he sputters before swiftly spinning and stomping away.

“Next time, don’t waste your breath, lady,” Odin chortles, “you’ve better use of it.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #regency au #au #marvel #mcu #avengers #thor #the sticking point

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sulieykte · 11 months

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𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ✧˚ · . 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒊

‣ Pairing: Adult!Neteyam (20) x Fem!Omatikaya Reader (19) ‣ Warnings: 18+ mdni, mentions of blood, poor coping mechanisms and life choices. minor jake bashing (i still love you boo), spit as lube, smut (p in v), blink and you'll miss it oral (f receiving), dacryphilia (but not really), ANGST ANGST ANGST ‣ Word Count: 5.4k ‣ A/N: So this has been a long time coming and I apologise for the wait. It's ended up being much longer than I expected and I hope that you all enjoy this. It's the final part to the story, with an epilogue and potential sequel to follow this week and I'd like to thank everyone that's been with me throughout this story, it's given me the chance to get to know so many amazing people and it means so much to me. I need to thank @andraga12 because without her listening to my stressing and talking me down several times, this chapter would have never been finished <3 A lot of this chapter was me being in my feelings about Spider and I'm not gonna feel sorry for that, that's my kid right there. There's a few call backs in this to previous chapters and I'm giving out smooches and hugs for each one anyone catches. As always enjoy, and if you see mistakes before I come back tomorrow to fix them, then no you didn't.

This chapter was inspired by Wrong Direction - Hailee Steinfeld and I recommending listening to it while reading the second scene. English is in bold italics all other dialogue is in Na'vi. ‣ Na'vi word bank: parultsyìp - term of affection for children, tsaheylu - neural connection (bond) tìyawn - love, 'ite - daughter, 'evi - child (affectionate), itan - son, utumauti - banana fruit, tewng - loincloth

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“Come. We have to leave.”

The taste of tears, rain and blood have long since become indistinguishable on your tongue by the time Neteyam manages to coax your crumpled frame from the ground. You struggle to find your footing, whether from the dampened bark or the fact your legs felt intangible beneath you, you aren’t sure. It doesn’t matter as his hands don’t leave you, haven’t left you since he pulled you away from the edge.

A hand on your hip tries to guide you forward, rain slicked lips skimming your ear as they tell you that you need to move. That you can’t stay here. They might come back. You don’t find this to be incentive enough to leave. And you open your mouth to tell him that, to tell him that leaving meant giving up and accepting that Spider was gone. That he wouldn’t climb back up and give you that lopsided grin of his that he always has when he narrowly avoids death on the planet he wasn’t made to survive. But when your lips part, nothing but a pathetic, small whimper comes out.

Hands wrap around your forearms and you’re spun around, forced to face him. Instinct screams at you to move away but he stops your resistance before it can begin, pinning your arms to your side in an iron grip, his face barely an inch away from yours as he demands your attention.

“You need to listen to me… I’m telling you that we need to leave now. There’s nothing we can do for Spider anymore– We don’t know where they’ve taken him, and if they come back, they will kill us… We have to leave.”

Your dried out eyes meet his own pleading gaze, at odds with the firm hold he has on you. You should fight, you should curse him from preventing you from going after Spider. Neteyam would not give a moments thought before going after his family, his siblings. But he keeps you rooted in place, ripping from you your last shred of denial.

“Neteyam? Neteyam, do you copy? Over.”

“Yes, sir. I’m with y/n. En route now. Over.”

“Good…” Jake’s voice drops, barely a murmur but your proximity to Neteyam allows you to hear it. “Is she okay?” Neteyam’s head tilts, golden eyes only catching your own for a second before he looks away, pressing two fingers to his neck.

“We’re en route now.”

Hands pull you out of Neteyam’s grasp before you can register who they belong to, your head nestled into a shoulder with an exclamation of “Thank God.” as his hand reaches up to cup the back of your head, pressing you further into a father’s embrace.

“Ma’ite.” Neytiri places a hand on your shoulder, rubbing soft circles with a gentle hand that soothes the shaking of your form, your eyes closed tight to trap any tears that might fall if you allowed yourself to look into any of the eyes that you knew were on you. “Ma’ite, we must leave.” Her voice is pleading, reminiscent of the son that favoured her so much

“We can’t.” You push yourself out of Jake’s embrace, looking up at the man you saw as a second father with pleading eyes. “Please, there’s still time to catch them.” Your eyes find Kiri, eyes red-rimmed from crying and you know she’s made the same case before you.

“Listen.” Jake takes you by the shoulders, bending his knees to meet your eye-line. “Spider is a tough kid, and he’s one of their own. He’ll be fine.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, that he would say that, nonetheless believe it. Spider was not one of their own. His body may be human, but his heart was Na’vi. He couldn’t be further from the humans that raise your land for profit.

“We don’t have time for this kid, we’ll talk about this back at camp.”

“No.” You shake your head, stepping away from him, avoiding Lo’ak’s hands as they reach for you. His eyes can’t quite meet yours as he calls your name and you know he must be feeling the same guilt that you are for not being able to prevent your friend's capture. The guilt would eat you from the inside out, for being the ones to suggest and encourage the excursion that led to it. “I won’t. It’ll be too late by then, we can’t wait!” Tuk tugs on your arm, pleading with you to come with them, but something changes in Jake’s face and you can’t look away.

“Oh.” Your voice cracks as you put it all together. They have no intention of going after Spider at all. A look around at all of their faces confirms that they already know. Your sorrow is replaced with anger and a desire to scream. You have always looked up to Jake and Neytiri, but at this moment, you feel nothing but contempt towards them. “What, so Sully’s stick together and fuck everyone else?”

Neytiri looks aghast as she reaches out for you, but you move out of her reach. You’d expected it from her, as she had never hidden her dislike for Spider. But Jake, you can't understand how he of all people, who was born human and worked for the RDA, could be so dismissive of Spider's life.

“Parultsyìp, it’s not like that. We’re three ikran short and there’s Tuk.” He actually has the audacity to look hurt at your words. Tuk’s hands tug on you, you spare a glance away from her father and feel a twinge of guilt at seeing the tears filling her eyes. “Please. I can’t lose another one.”

Your neck feels like it could have broken with how quickly your head snaps back towards him.

“Another one?” Your fists clench at your side, and Neytiri pulls Tuk away from you. Jake’s brows raise in alarm as he watches you. You don’t speak to him like this, you never have and you never thought you would, but the respect you held for him as Olo’eyktan and a father was waning. “Your family got back safe and that’s all you care about.” His jaw tightens and his eyes glisten but he lets you continue. If you’ve stepped over the line, he allows it. “If it wasn’t for your son, and that hero complex of his that’s going to get him killed one day, I wouldn’t even be here right now– But that’s fine, Sully’s stick together… and I’m not a Sully.”

"Enough," Neteyam growls, gripping your forearm and pulling you backwards. You stumble into his chest. His voice softens when you turn to face him, the hostility you had toward his father now directed at him. "You've made your point. Let's go.”

As he pulls you away, you don’t turn to face the rest of his family. There’s no energy left in you to fight him as he pushes you up onto the back of his Ikran. Neither of you speaks on the journey back to High Camp and you’re grateful that he allows you the time to give in to your exhaustion, resting your back against his chest and letting your eyes drift shut.

Neteyam rouses you shortly before you arrive home and you hop down from his Ikran before he has a chance to break Tsaheylu. You hear Lo’ak call out for you, but you don’t look back. Leaving the Sully’s behind as you make your way back to your Marui.

“Ma’ite, please.” The desperation is evident in your mothers voice even as you avoid her gaze. “You are not thinking clearly, Spider would not want this.”

She crosses the tent, crouching down next to you, her hand wraps around the shaft of the arrow you’re diligently coating the tip of with the toxins of the anìheyu plant. The plant had once provided you with a name for your Ikran, fitting for the mount of a warrior, your father had declared, smile exuding pride as he urged you to take your first flight and seal the bond.

Now as you stare into the bowl of toxin that would kill you if it penetrated your bloodstream, tightening your hold on your coated arrows to prevent your mother from tearing them from your grasp, you think of Spider. Of how the same plant provided the pigment he painted himself with, in a futile attempt to be seen by the members of the clan that would refused to see past the violence of his heritage, though he was born only a stone's throw from where you yourself were born, though his blood ran as red as yours, they could not accept him. They could not see him. Not like you did, and they left him behind as though his life meant nothing.

“Let go.” Your voice is low, strained from distress. You meet her eyes, rimmed with tears but set with determination as she refuses you. Your mother was soft, a gentle woman who led a life devoted to the clan, to the care of others but that gentleness was now replaced with a fire that met your own as she tugs the weapon from your hand with strength you didn’t know she had.

“Ma’evi, I know what Spider means to you.” She places the arrow behind her, out of your immediate reach and cups your face in her hands. “I care for him too, and that is how I know that he wouldn’t wish for this… You would die before you reach their gates and you know this.” In that moment you see all of her years etched in her face, the grief and the terror she holds at the loss of her mate and the thought that she could lose you too.

She’s right, Spider wouldn’t want you to embark on a suicide mission to save him, nor would he wish for anyone to go after him and risk their lives for his, but you know that deep down, if he heard of Jake’s refusal to even entertain a rescue attempt it would crush him as deeply as it did you.

“I know that, but if I don’t try, then who else is going to fight for him?” You cough away the tightness in your throat and gently pull your face out of her tender hold. Standing, you cross the tent away from her, and reach for the bow you carved from the ruins of hometree. You run the pad of your finger along the limb, tracing the letters that Spider had etched into the wood, five of them that he said represented the names of each of the Sully siblings and your own, the sixth that you insisted that he add was his own. “I won’t leave him behind.”

Her eyes fill with tears and your own well up in a response, but you quickly blink them away. The weight of impending loss is heavy in the air between you, and if you looked into her eyes for a second longer, you’re sure you might catch the moment that she begins to mourn you, knowing that she’s helpless to stop you. After all, she raised you to hold fast to your convictions and what you believe to be right.

The silence that settles between you is broken by the clearing of a throat, and your mother turns, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand before she greets the person entering the tent.

“I see you, Neteyam. What brings you here ma’itan?”

Heart pounding, you turn to find his eyes are already on you, lips parted in something that might be surprise as his gaze flickers down to the bow in your hand, before he gathers himself and returns your mothers gesture.

“I see you, Auntie. I’m here to see y/n, would you mind giving us some time to speak?”

Her ears dip, and her forehead furrows as she looks back and forth between the two of you. It isn’t difficult to guess what is going through her mind after finding you asleep in each other's arms the previous night. After years of trying to get you two to play nice, you can only imagine the confusion she must have felt at finding you tangled together. It must be why she relents so easily, despite your pleading look and the shake of your head.

“Of course, I wanted to speak to your mother anyway.” She says before leaving, sparing you a concerned glance as she walks past Neteyam and exits the Marui, abandoning you with the last person you want to be alone with.

“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

He doesn’t speak, he just looks at you, his eyes travelling up your body, stalling at the bow in your hand for a moment before they find your face and his features soften for a split second before his jaw hardens and he crosses the tent, tail lashing behind him as he closes in on you. Your back hits the wall of the tent as you fail to retain the space between and his hand closes around your wrist.

He leans in, breath hot against your face, adrenaline rushing your veins at his touch. Too close, too comfortable laying hands on you and you’re far too willing to allow it. It’s tempting to be drawn in by him, to the side of him that you had never had the pleasure of knowing, but you know in your heart that this won’t endure. This is not your Neteyam, your Neteyam is all teeth and claws, the burning desire to hurt and be hurt in the name of gaining power over one another.

“Let go of me Neteyam.” Your voice betrays you, coming out far too soft to have your desired effect. He doesn’t let go of you, his grip tightens, squeezing at the echo of the bruises he’d left on you before and his other hand comes to wrap around the hand that holds your bow.

“If you think I’m going to let you run off and get yourself killed–” He pauses, gritting his teeth. “This–” He squeezes your hand around the bow. “It’s a suicide mission, you don’t even know where they’ve taken him. You aren’t thinking clearly… What are you going to do, storm their city alone?”

Alone.

“If that’s what it takes.” Your nose brushes against his as you lift your chin to look him in the eyes. His nose scrunches, as though the action tickles him His breath catches in his throat, and the tension thickens in the air, sending shivers down your spine. But he recovers first, using your distraction to gently pull your bow from your hand, a firm hand against your chest knocking you back when you attempt to seize it back.

“Enough. Have you even thought about what could happen if you don’t die? If they capture you?” You hadn’t considered that option, and your face must give that away. “No, you haven’t. It’s bad enough that they have Spider, he knows everything about this place, he could already lead them right here– I know, I know he wouldn’t” He stems your argument with a raised palm. “Not willingly… but we know what the Sky People are capable of.”

He places your bow on its stand and grabs both your hands in his, they’re warm big enough that your own disappear in their hold. “You’ve attended war councils, and were cared for by the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem. If they captured you–” He swallows, squeezing your hands more tightly in his own. “They could bring our whole operation to the ground.”

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you, bitter and sharp as you pull your hands from his. “Is that all you care about? The war efforts?” He reaches out for you again, but you push his hands away. Pacing back and forth, you press the palms of your hands against your eyes as tears threaten to escape and shatter your resolve.

It always came down to the war. For the past year, since the Sky People had returned it had been all consuming and you understood. You understood when it took your home, even when it took your father from you, he had been a warrior and chosen to fight. However, you couldn’t understand how they could be so callous, uncaring for the man who they had known since birth.

“Sometimes, when you open your mouth all I can hear is your fathers voice. I know you look up to him, but at this point it’s pathological.” You uncover your eyes and he’s watching you, eyes boring into your face with something that doesn’t quite reach anger. “So what is the plan? They have Spider and you’re so sure that he’ll give us away. What do we do now, mighty warrior?”

“We’re leaving.”

“What?” You’re stopped in your tracks, searching his eyes for the truth in his words. You find it and either of you takes a breath as your resolve falters long enough for a tear to fall free from your eye. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“My family, it’s my dad they’re after and they won’t stop until they find him.” His family, your family were leaving. “This will protect the people.” He continues, sweeping a hand through his braids. “If we stay here you will all die protecting us, this is what’s for the best.” He almost sounds like he believes it, the crack in his voice the only thing giving him away.

“So you’re telling me that you want to leave your home?” Your voice is shaking, you’ve given away all pretences that you are fine. How could you be? Faced as you are with another loss. One night and you would lose nearly everyone you held dear, leaving you with only your mother. How was that fair? How could that be what the great mother intended for you?

“Of course I don’t, my entire life is here. Everything I’ve ever known and trained for is here. I’m giving up everything, my birthright.” His eyes sparkle with tears you once would have loved to see fall, now they match your own as you both struggle to come to terms with the loss this night had cost you. “But my father is right. It’s the only way to keep y– everyone safe. It’s the best thing we can do for the people.”

“Why don’t you stay?” His brow raises in surprise, as taken aback as you are that you would even ask that, because you already know the answer. “You could take your father’s place as Olo’ekytan. Stay… Stay and fight for the people.”

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks, his ears drop as he takes a step towards you, the conflict etched in his features as his hand rises and for a second you think he might reach out and touch you once more. Your heartbeat picks up in anticipation only to falter when he lets his hand fall back to his side.

That isn’t a question you can answer because you don’t even know yourself. You’re not even sure you mean it, if you’re really asking him to stay or you’re just grasping at one last hope that not everyone will leave you.

“If I did, would you?”

His answer never comes, it doesn’t need to. Sully’s stick together. You’d heard it so many times, even believed once that you were included in that. The words he’d intended to say before Jake stopped him, that you weren’t his family, now ring in your ears as your head falls into your hands. It feels like your chest might collapse in on itself as the realisation hits you, that you’ll never see Spider again, that Lo’ak and Kiri will leave you too, you’ll never see little Tuk grow up and pass her Iknimaya. You will never feel safety in the comfort and guidance of Jake and Neytiri again.

He gently pries your fingers away and takes your face in his hands. You can feel the warmth of his palm against your cheek, the sweet floral scent filling your senses as he wipes away the remnants of the night's trauma, the blood still dried into your skin, with the cloth your mother had left aside for you, You meet his eyes filled with sincerity and regret as he utters a soft apology.

“I hate you.” You tell him with as much vitriol as you can muster. For the first time since you began this bitter war, you don’t mean it. He had put you through so much hurt, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him anymore. The lines between love and hate had blurred and you’d become addicted to the moments in between, the exhilaration of being touched and desired by Neteyam. “I hate you so much.”

“I know.”

As he runs the cloth along your lower lip, you feel his finger catch on the corner of your mouth. Your breathing is momentarily interrupted. He is staring intently at your lips, his own parted mirroring your own as he cleanses your skin until all the red that was once there now stains the fabric.

You’re swept up in the moment, driven by insanity or desperation when you capture his lips with your own. With a fierce intensity that knocks him back, causes him to drop the bloodied cloth and catch your arms, wrapping his fingers around them and gently pushes you away from him.

“What are you doing?” He looks down at you with piercing golden eyes and his voice barely above a whisper, he asks a question you know the answer to now. You’re chasing the ecstasy of his touch, and you don’t care about the painful aftermath that would follow if, for just a moment, you don’t have to think or feel the enormity of your loss. You’ll take every second of numbness he can provide.

You reach for the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss, giving in to the rush of adrenaline when he doesn’t push you away again. You feel his hands find your waist and pull you in closer, your bodies pressing together as you explore each other's mouths. He parts his lips and you accept the invitation, tongue swiping against his, the taste of utumauti and fragrance of flora mixing together and filling your senses.

It’s not enough. You reach in between your bodies and press a palm over his tewng, delighting in finding his arousal already straining against the material and his moan that vibrates against your tongue as you roll your palm against him. His fingers dig deeper into your skin, bruising in the best way possible as he grinds against you his desire for you evident and thrilling. You smirk against his lips and he breaks apart only for a second to speak.

“Shut up,” and his lips are on yours again.

His tewng has to go, both of you seem to decide this at the same time. Without breaking the kiss, each of you reach down to pull at the strings until it’s discarded on the ground and his length hits your stomach and leaves a trail of precum on your skin before you take it in your grasp. You give it a couple of experimental pumps, his breath catching in his throat as his lips finally leave yours.

Your eyes meet as you slowly pump him, chests heaving against each other, the air thick and heavy with lust and neither of you needs to say a thing. It’s bittersweet, knowing that this will be the last time you have each other and you can’t pinpoint why your stomach sinks at the thought. You focus instead on the sensations of his skin against yours, his grip tightening on you, the way he smells of the forest and rain.

You maintain eye contact as you spit into your hand. His eyes widen and his knees buckle as you wrap your hand around his cock and spread it along his length. His head falls into the crook of your neck, muffling a whimper as you quicken your pace. It goes straight to your core when he latches onto your skin, sucking a mark where the previous had not long faded, weeks of elaborate necklaces working hard to hide the evidence of your previous trysts.

He steps back, and you raise a brow in question and he looks pained when he removes your hand. Your expression must have given away your disappointment, your worry that he was about to put an end to this and leave you alone once more.

“Tìyawn.” He says through panted breaths. “Tell me you want this.”

This time you do not have to think before you answer, you don’t have it in you any more to deny that you want him, to him or yourself.

“I want this.”

He has you on the mat so fast that your head is spinning when he looms over you, braids tickling your nose before he leans down and presses his lips to yours. His kisses are gentle, delicate as he moves from your lips and travels down your body. Lifting your chest covering to show appreciation to your breasts, he runs the tip of his tongue in circles around your hardened peak.

His hands run down your sides until they find your hips, playing with the strings of your tewng as his mouth leaves your nipple and follows his fingers. He alternates between kisses and sucking marks into the skin of your stomach. He’s too close, yet not close enough to where you really want him to be.

“Teyam.” You whine, he looks up at you through heavy lidded eyes from where he’s settled between your legs. It’s a beautiful sight that forces you to take a sharp intake of breath. Your thighs are already soaked with your slick when you watch him pry them open. There isn’t enough time, not to have him how you really want him, you don’t know when your mother will return and you’re not willing to risk interruption. “I need you.”

He seems to gather what you mean from the few words that you can mumble. He taps your hip and you raise yourself, allowing him to discard your tewng before spreading you out before himself like a meal he can’t wait to consume. He runs his hands up and down your thighs and you clench around nothing when he leans in and places a kiss at your center.

“Maybe another time.” He sighs, and it seems like he’s speaking to your cunt more than you. He runs a flat tongue along your slit and places a chaste kiss on your clit that sends a jolt of electricity through your body before he crawls up your form. His lips crash against yours, tongue pushing into your mouth to give you a taste of yourself, meeting your urgency with his own.

His tail wraps around your thigh, encouraging you to wrap it around his waist. Your other leg follows, pulling him in tight. With his arms caging you in, there’s barely an inch of skin left untouched. He rolls his hips and coats his length with your slick, and without warning, he pushes his entire length inside of you in one thrust.

Your body accommodates him, moulding to the shape of him as if it were its only purpose. You fight to steady your breathing, clutching at his toned back as you get used to the stretch. Neteyam does the same, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he composes himself.

"Please," you whisper, but he hears and answers. He rolls his hips, building a steady pace and lifting up onto his elbows and looking down at you. When your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze is too much and you have to shut your eyes. You squeeze your legs tighter around his waist, focusing on the sensations and pleasure he's giving you.

“Open your eyes.”

As he grips your waist tightly, you can feel the heat emanating from his body. You try to gain control of the rhythm by rolling your hips, but he resists your attempt to take over. You feel his hands move up to your face, his fingers gently gripping your jaw. You turn your head towards him and feel his hot breath on your cheek. He repeats his command, his voice low and seductive, sending shivers down your spine.

"Don't." Your voice breaks and he stills above you. You open your eyes, glistening with the emotions you'd been desperate to numb. You feel the tears streaming down your face and the lump forming in your throat.

"Please-" you shake your head, unable to avoid his approaching hand as he reaches to brush away your tears. His calloused fingers are soft against your cheek as they go about their task. You close your eyes and lean into his touch, relishing the warmth of his hand on your skin.

But this is not what you need, not what you want from him at this moment. This gentle Neteyam serves only as a reminder of all that has changed over the past few weeks. He reminds you of the pain and the loss, all the things you’re desperate to forget.

“What do you need from me?”

You blink hard, finding the courage to stare into his concerned gaze. He’s giving the control over to you, making no move to pull out of you until you say so.

“I–I need you.” You find your voice, as you contain the emotions escaping your body through shaken breaths. You hope that he still has it in him one more time to be a little cruel, to heal your wounds and replace them with new ones. “I need you to fuck me Neteyam.”

His ears flatten against his head, the seeds of doubt evident on his face, but he obliges you anyway even if it looks like it pains him to do so. His grip on your jaw tightens and his hips build up to a bruising pace.

He lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder giving him the right angle to slam into your cervix. You cry out, arching your back as he hits that sweet spot inside of you again and again. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the Marui, mingling with your moans and his grunts. You claw at his back, etching streaks of crimson into his skin, as he pounds into you.

"Teyam, I'm--" you struggle to speak against the force of his thrusts. He lifts onto his knees and hooks his hands under your thighs, pressing your legs up until they meet your chest. Your eyes roll back and your walls convulse around his cock as you tumble over the edge.

Neteyam maintains his pace, fucking you through your release. He’s buried impossibly deep inside of you, watching the way he slides in and out of you at a brutal pace that only falters when his own climax hits him and he spills his seed inside of you..

He stills inside of you, catching himself with strong arms before falling on top of you. Both of you struggle to catch your breath as you come down from your highs. You feel cold and empty when he pulls out of you, the mixture of cum dripping out onto the mat as he rolls onto his back beside you.

Neither of you speak for what speaks for what feels like hours, but you know it has been barely minutes when his breathing returns to normal and he breaks the silence.

“Are you okay?”

You laugh and you really can’t help it.

“Tìyawn?” He rolls onto his side and props himself up on his elbow, gazing at you with concern as your laughter evolves into a sob that shakes your whole body. He reaches out for your face, but this time you stop him, catching his hand and pushing it away before he can touch you.

“Leave.” The force behind your voice surprises yourself as much as it does him. His brows furrow as he tries to work out if you’re serious. “Please, just go.”

You watch as he dresses himself, his movements slow and deliberate. You wonder if he’s waiting for you to call out for him, to ask him to stay, but you don’t. You watch as he throws you one last lingering glance over his shoulder before he leaves you.

And you’re truly alone.

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