#i did not expect this to sell so well!! thank you to those who did purchase one. <3

[kabukiaku]

Forgot to share on here! Terzomega lanyard charms are here 💜✨

LINK TO LISTING

#my art #terzomega #terzo x omega #omega ghoul #papa emeritus iii #omega3 #terzo #ghost fan merch #kofi shop #its currently low in stock but i recently reordered more. #i did not expect this to sell so well!! thank you to those who did purchase one. <3

[moonjxsung]

Seasons

Copyright Ⓒ 2023 by Moonjxsung

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner. Doing so will result in a legal takedown per the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and is subject to legal action.

Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader

W/c: 24.1k

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of a hospital, alcohol, smoking, erotic photography, use of pet names, clitoral stimulation, breast/nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, dry humping, sex in a semi-public place (no one is around), oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, cum eating

Synopsis: Seasons come and go like your love for Felix once did- but when he reappears in your life several years later, things are much different.

[this work was based off a request from @crookedt44th - thank you for requesting!]

18+. Mdni!

•

Small town at the edge of the world. 11:30am. A Tuesday in Autumn.

If you told the average person to shut their eyes and think of their favorite city, they’d probably conjure up a lengthy description about the booming skyscrapers, the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the fancy restaurants and the well-kept people. Point it out on a map, you’d tell them, and their finger would land in the heart of the amorphous blob of whatever state they’ve chosen.

Now move your finger to the right- keep going, and going, and don’t stop until you’re almost off the map entirely. There will be no major indicators, no colorful dots on this area of the map. You might miss it, in fact, if you shoot too far.

That’s the town of Ember.

A town so insignificant, the only name they could think to give it was based on the fire that plagued it almost 50 years ago, which begged the question to those in neighboring cities- who even lives there?

Famous for absolutely nothing of importance, population who-knows-these-days, nothing to do and nowhere to go.

And the place you call home.

*

“Pieces of a Dream. 1970’s.”

“Yellow,” your manager responds, and you unravel a bulky roll of discount stickers, thumbing one off the adhesive and placing it gently in the corner of the plastic-wrapped vinyl.

“The rest of those should be discounted,” he says, quickly shuffling through the stack and giving them a little slap with the palm of his hand.

He slides the stack over to you, taking his spot on the wooden stool by the register again and flipping through a stack of pages on his clipboard.

Chris, your manager, has been the owner of Ember Records for the better part of a decade now. He succeeds his father’s role as store owner, who succeeded his father’s role, back when the record shop wasn’t mostly lost to the fire. Since its relocation, it’s much smaller, so you’ve heard, only about half the shelf space available to house the generous collection of records his great grandfather used to collect and sell.

This is one of just a handful of shops around here, located in the heart of the tourist attraction that is the town’s square. Thus, you’re well-acquainted with the baristas from the coffee shop across the street, the waiters at the diner, the librarians and even the car mechanics. You’re all familiar with the businesses you run to keep this town on its feet, many of you having chosen to stay here for a simpler life.

“I dig the grays,” you tell Chris, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter and slide him the finished stack of tagged vinyl.

He sighs, cocking his head and uncapping his pen between his teeth. “They creep up on you when you least expect it. You know this shit costs like, hundreds to get dyed?”

“Leave it,” you say to him, giving a small nod as you speak. “It makes you look more mature. I mean, what does Yena think of it?”

“She loves it,” he says, catching a glimpse of his reflection in one of the glass cases and running his hands through his hair. “But she’d also love if I shaved my eyebrows off. She’ll compliment anything.”

“Then shave your eyebrows,” you say, chuckling, as you stuff your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. “You’re lucky to have a wife who’s so supportive of your decisions. I’m taking my lunch!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris says, laughing as he shakes his head. “Oh, and Yena left you some pie in the back room.”

“Tell her thank you!” You call over your shoulder as you make your way to the back.

The back room is just a glorified storage closet, one dingy table pushed up against the wall, one wooden chair and shelves of records that need to be pushed out to the sales floor, or should’ve just been burned in the fire. You have to duck your head to not hit it on the hanging pendant lamp, its bulb buzzing concerningly loud as you take your seat and pry open the Tupperware container Yena left for you in the fridge- cherry pie, your favorite, from the diner down the street where she works.

As you take generous bites of your first meal of the day, you shuffle through a stack of records neglected on the table from last week’s donation. There are a myriad of genres- old jazz bands, electronic records, synth pop and even a few ambient pieces. As you flip over one of the covers, Chris calls to you from the front, his voice echoing around the dingy little storage closet.

“Y/n! I need you to come help out!”

And you sigh, promptly shutting the Tupperware closed again and making your way out to the front.

That’s the thing about this job- it’s small, but it’s busy, the hundreds of records demanding your very precise attention at any given moment of the day. You live to serve the people here, suggesting records to those seeking new sounds or curiously peering at genres unknown to them. And tourists are drawn to the place, often leaving with armfuls of old vinyl to add to their collections. It’s not a town they’ll likely ever visit again, you’re well aware, but the shop allows people to take a little piece of Ember with them wherever they go. And though the lack of grandiosity might not bring them back, your attentiveness to detail and passion for music sometimes do.

*

“Coffee?” Yena asks you, as you slide into the familiar spot of your favorite booth, next to the window in her diner. She saunters over with the pot anyway, setting a little white mug down in front of you and filling the cup halfway.

“Thanks,” you reply, already tearing open packs of creamer.

At half past 8, the record shop closes in only an hour, Chris taking on the role of closing procedures in your absence. It’s a routine life you lead, tending to the record shop by day and basking in the town’s simple pleasures by nighttime. And with all the people you love in it, you have no reason to leave, no rush to migrate elsewhere.

“How’s work?” Yena asks, sliding into the booth across from you and pulling a notepad out from her apron. She flips through the pages, stopping on a blank one and adding up her tips for the evening.

“Fine,” you say to her, taking a generous sip of coffee. “Just mostly repeat customers for today. But we did have a pretty hefty donation, so that’s a plus.”

“Anything good?” She questions, without looking up from her notepad.

“Negative. A lot of older stuff I used to listen to in high school.”

Yena finishes tallying up her tips, shutting her notepad and finally meeting your gaze.

“Hey, if that’s old, then I’m ancient.”

You both laugh, and she keeps her gaze on you for a moment before speaking again.

“Gosh, I still remember when you moved here. You were so… wide-eyed. And quiet.”

“I was so lost,” you say with a small chuckle. “I don’t even think I knew how to work a record player.”

“And now look at you,” she emphasizes, gesturing to your face. “You just seem… happy these days.”

She smiles for a moment, before gathering the empty cups of creamer off the table and sliding out of the booth.

“I hope you’ll stay here, if it means you’re always going to be this happy.”

You smile to yourself as she begins back toward the kitchen, humming to herself.

“Wasn’t planning on leaving!” You call out, and without turning around, she gives you a thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen again.

*

Some days, your shifts feel like 5 minutes. Other days, they feel like 5 days. Today is the latter, the clock on the wall above the register ticking away by the second, and yet seemingly no closer to the end of your day. You’re on closing procedures this evening, Chris and Yena having taken the day off to have a much overdue date night. And it’s empty, like it usually is on Wednesday evenings, not a soul in sight as the town tends to their own duties, the tourists all working busy jobs in the city.

You slouch your shoulders over the wooden stool, dusting off a pile of folk records and shuffling through them, admiring the intricate paintings on the covers. It’s one of your favorite things about working here- locating the beautiful paintings and photographs that graze the covers of records, all of them vastly different from one another, but equally as evocative. You trace your fingertips over what appears to be a Polish record, a couple dressed in fancy colorful fabrics as he dips her into a bow. You can’t help but wonder what the atmosphere would be like if they were here in front of you, the whole room teeming with the choral ensemble as they’d tap their fancy shoes along the tile flooring and invite you to dance, too. The thought circles your mind with a smile, and you barely hear the next customer enter when they do.

The little gold bell hanging on the door chimes just once when they enter, indicating the arrival of a man, who promptly rushes to the back shelf without so much as a hello. Welcome, I guess, you want to say, dismissing their curtness with a shake of your head as you go back to organizing records.

You shuffle to the next record, admiring the black and white photo of a man with his guitar, a panama hat atop his curly head of hair as he sings into a microphone. It reminds you of the ones your dad used to collect before he passed.

“Excuse me?” A voice interrupts, and you practically jump, startled at the way he navigates the shop without a sound. He’s right in front of the register now, holding a CD in his hands and setting it down in front of you.

“I’d like to pay,” he continues, his baritone voice sounding painfully uninviting.

Without looking up at him, you take the CD from the counter, flipping it over to scan the barcode on the front. Four Decades of Jazz, the cover simply displaying the title in funky purple block text.

“This one’s actually on clearance,” you say, sliding the CD into a small paper bag. “Just 5.”

He pulls out a brown leather wallet, flipping through crisp bills as he searches for exact change. As he does, you take notice of the collection of silver rings that decorate his shorter fingers, a few of them painted with chipping black nail polish. Your gaze fixates on a thicker silver band, carved with black fleur de lis patterns that circle the band all the way around. You cock your head slightly, mapping out the pattern in your head as his hands move, the ring glistening under a beam of light that shines through the window and sets it aglow.

“It was a gift,” the man says when he notices you staring, and he holds out his index finger, rotating his finger to give you the full view.

You say nothing, your lips parting slightly as he does, transfixed by the way the silver hugs his finger and frames his veiny hands. The man stays silent, his gaze on the ring, too, as he pulls it off with a gentle tug and holds it up for you to see.

“Do you want to see it?” He asks, pinching the band between the pads of his fingers as he rotates it under the same beam of sunlight.

“No, thank you,” you reply, your mind still in a trance. “It just… reminds me of…” and your voice trails off, finally allowing your gaze to look up and meet the stranger’s.

His big brown eyes seem to widen when you finally lock eyes, his plump lips parting open as he scrambles to pull the ring back on.

“Something,” is all you can utter, folding the brown paper bag once in your hands and sliding it across the counter. “It reminds me of somebody I used to know.”

His breath hitches his throat as he finds the words to say, unable to string together a cohesive sentence as memories run rampant in his mind, everything coming back to him like a painful wound being reopened.

“Sorry,” is all he can say, clutching the brown bag in one hand as he gives you a small nod. “And thanks. For the CD. Or for ringing me up, rather. Thank you-”

“You’re welcome,” you reply briskly, pivoting on your heel to organize a stack of already-sorted records on the shelf behind you.

And you can still feel him there for a moment, his gaze boring into the back of your head like he wants to say something. But he doesn’t, instead observing the way your hair, a little shorter than he’d previously remembered it, sways gently in its ponytail as you go about your job.

You listen to the way the brown paper bag crumples in his grasp, before he finally retreats and exits, the little bell above the door indicating his departure.

And when you turn around again, there on the counter, his silver ring sits, glistening in the waning glint of the evening sun.

*

“The lattes are so expensive out there,” Yena says, as she takes a sip from her iced coffee. “I’d drink this gas station coffee any day over that stuff.”

You chuckle lightly, shaking your head as you wipe down the counter with a rag. Chris counts change in the register beside you, muttering counts to himself as he scribbles onto his clipboard and listens to your conversations.

“But hey, we still had a good time,” Yena continues, smiling over at Chris. “Sometimes leaving this town keeps you on your toes.”

“Yeah, well, I’m on my toes enough here as it is,” you respond, the three of you chuckling lightly amongst each other.

The bell atop the door chimes once, signifying the arrival of a new customer, and Chris gestures to the door as you look up.

“All you,” he says, going back to his work.

You fold the rag neatly, setting it on the counter and making your way over to the clearance aisle where the stranger stands. His back is turned toward you, his lanky frame towering over stacks of CDs as he thumbs through them casually.

“Can I help you find anything?” You chime in, your hands behind your back as you watch him. As you speak, he turns to face you, and you breathe a deep sigh of annoyance.

“Seriously?” You say, already retreating back to the counter again and turning away from him.

“Wait,” he calls, rushing after you and standing in front of the counter awkwardly. Chris looks up from his clipboard, furrowing his brows together as Yena shoots him an equally questioning look.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you respond, unfolding the rag again and wiping down the register.

“Hey, hey,” Chris says, giving you a confused look.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say to Chris through gritted teeth, brushing off the interaction.

“I just wanted to-” the man begins, as he looms behind the counter, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

“Why would you come back?” You question, not looking at him still. “Wasn’t one time awkward enough?”

“I left my ring,” he finally says, dropping his hands at his sides.

Both your gazes fall to your hands, where the silver band rests comfortably on your index finger, almost like it’s always been yours.

“Yeah, whatever,” you reply, pulling it off and sliding it across the counter to him. “Here.”

He doesn’t say anything, not yet reaching for the ring, nor telling you to put it back on. A part of him is fascinated at the prospect you chose to wear it around at all.

The silence that falls over the shop is painfully awkward, Chris and Yena keeping their gazes locked between the two of you as you angrily scrub at a stain on the counter.

“Hey,” Chris says, finally pulling the rag from your grasp. “You’re scratching the wood, kiddo.”

“If no one wants that ring, give it here,” Yena says with a smile.

The ring is slowly lifted from the counter again, slid back onto the finger of its respective owner.

“We’ll give you guys a minute,” Chris says, motioning to the back room with the tilt of his head. And Yena follows him to the back, the till of the register balanced in his arms.

“What do you want?” You ask, finally meeting his gaze again. “I’m working right now.”

His face drops a little, giving you a small shrug before he speaks.

“I was just wondering how you were doing. And I thought-”

“Felix,” you say brazenly, your heartbeat quickening a little at the feeling of his name leaving your lips again after so long. “Cut the small talk. Just tell me why you’re here.”

He sighs as he fiddles with the band around his finger, the metal still warm from the contact against your skin.

“That’s it,” he explains. “I didn’t expect to see you here. And I wondered how you were doing.”

“So leaving your ring here wasn’t an elaborate plan to come back for it?”

“It… was,” he says sheepishly. “I needed an excuse to come see you again.”

“We sell records,” you emphasize. “That’s the only reason you should be here. And if it’s not, then leave.”

“Y/n,” Felix says frustratedly. His eyebrows arch up in an almost pleading manner, his lips quivering as he struggles to find the words to say.

It’s the first time you take notice of his changed appearance, completely opposite to the Felix you last spoke to. His once blonde locks are grown out, grazing over his bony shoulders, a robust shade of ebony that contrasts against his pale skin, tied up into a half ponytail. His plump lips glisten under a glossy coat of peach tint, and his freckles are almost unnoticeable from this distance. You furrow your brows to get a better look, trying to make out the beige constellations you remember so well. But you can’t locate them- not on his nose, or his cheeks or even around his eyes.

He dresses differently, too, a baggy white tank top under a black leather vest, almost too big for him as it swallows his lean figure. And he flaunts a hefty collection of silver jewelry- rings, rows of ear piercings, a chain link bracelet and layered necklaces. If you didn’t know his eyes like the back of your own hand, you might’ve not even recognized him to be Felix.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” You finally ask, your voice softening a little as he toys with the rings on his fingers.

“This is my favorite place for CDs,” he responds, his shoulders relaxing a little as he speaks. “I used to come here every weekend back in high school. I didn’t know you worked here now, I promise I’m not trying to make things weird.”

You sigh a little, shifting your eyes to the shelves and then back at him.

“Well what are you doing here now? Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

Felix shrugs a little, his expression unchanging. “It’s complicated, I guess.” And then he furrows his brows at you, gesturing to the shop. “I could ask you the same question.”

“It’s complicated,” you reply, echoing his statement back at him. “And I’m not in the mood to indulge you with the story of my life.”

“I have time,” Felix says with a chuckle, and he’s met with your deafening silence.

“Sorry,” he follows, fiddling again with the rings on his fingers.

As you begin to ask him to leave, Chris and Yena enter from the back room again, carefully making their way toward you with hands shoved in their pockets.

“Hey,” Yena says, nudging you gently. “Everything okay, you guys?”

“Yes,” Felix is quick to chime in. “My apologies- I’m Felix,” he says with a beaming smile, holding out his hand to shake Yena and Chris’. They comply, exchanging warm smiles with him, still confused at why you seem so irate.

“I’m sorry to disrupt the peace,” Felix continues, giving them a little bow. “We’re just-”

“Old friends,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes at this act he puts on. “And he was just leaving.”

“Right,” Felix says, his lips pulling into a disheartened expression.

“Y/n doesn’t bring too many friends around here,” Chris chimes in. “What’s the rush to leave?” He chuckles as he finishes, and Yena hits him lightly as if signaling for him to stop.

“Actually,” Felix begins, and you sigh when you realize he’s not done talking yet. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner, or a coffee or something.”

“Felix, I really don’t think-”

“It’s on me if you wanna come to the diner tomorrow,” Yena chimes in. “We still have leftover pie.”

And you pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing deeply as Felix stares at you with a hopeful expression. His eyes are big, gauging your response curiously as you shift your gaze amongst the three of them. Chris watches Yena, who holds her breath as you think. And Felix’s lip seems to quiver when you open your mouth to speak.

“No dinner. Just coffee. And Chris covers my closing shift.”

*

Felix is at the diner much earlier than you are, comfortably reserving a spot for you on a table in the middle of the room and allowing Yena to fill your mugs with hot coffee. He adds three packs of sugar, two cups of creamer and a dollop of whipped cream he requests from Yena. And he waits for you patiently, stacking the spare cups of creamer into an organized pyramid, in between nervous glances out the window.

Yena wants to ask who he is exactly- why you’d seemed so off yesterday, and whether he’s here for a reason, or just to catch up as the old friends you claim to be. But she refrains, knowing to stay out of your business the way you so graciously stay out of hers.

“More coffee?” Yena asks as she approaches Felix, taking note of the near empty mug in front of him now.

“Sure,” Felix replies, shooting her a nervous smile. His hands tremble a little as he shoves the pyramid of creamers away from him, pretending to look occupied with his phone instead.

Yena fills his mug to the brim again, sliding him the mug across the table and giving him an empathetic look.

“I’m sure she’ll be here,” Yena says, nodding affirmatively. “She’s usually a little late getting off work.”

And Felix just nods, keeping his gaze on the giant glass windows. Outside, the sun has already set for the evening, darkened skies casting over the little square of Ember. The streets are sparse at this hour, just a few pedestrians who also flock here after their shifts, and the diner is fairly empty with the exception of a few young couples. Felix scans the atmosphere as he waits, observing the way everybody seems so acquainted with the place. Red vinyl booths line the large glass windows, dimly lit by hanging pendant lamps that give a yellow hue to the wooden tables below them. Each table is neatly paired with a silver napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers, hot sauce and a myriad of syrup flavors. And a bright neon red sign advertising fresh pies flickers over the kitchen, which is hidden behind silver swinging doors. It looks like something straight out of a movie, he thinks to himself, as a table nearby is served steaming plates of omelets and fries. And as Felix turns his attention back toward the glass windows, he finally sees you approaching, earbuds in and a nonchalant expression on your face. Your hair is tucked loosely behind your ears, a simple ensemble of loose fitting jeans and a sweater complementing your worn down sneakers. The bell on the door chimes as you make your way inside, a smile on your face as you talk briefly with Yena upon entering. And she gestures back to Felix, who gives a little wave from where he’s sitting, in time for his third coffee refill of the evening.

“This isn’t my table,” you say to Felix when you approach, gathering your mug of coffee and gesturing to your favorite booth against the window. Felix’s eyes flicker to the booth, a confused expression on his face as you wait for him to relocate.

“Well? Are you coming, or what?”

“Yeah, um, sorry,” Felix responds, clutching his mug in one hand and carefully bringing it across the room to the booth.

You furrow your eyes when you look back at the table, a tall pyramid of creamer cups placed where Felix was sitting.

Felix slides in the booth across from you, gesturing to your mug and meeting your gaze.

“Do you take cream? Or sugar?”

“Just two,” you say, picking your cups from the little bowl at the end of the table and tearing them open.

He nods, stirring his coffee around with a spoon as you prepare yours.

“Let me guess,” you say with a knowing smile. “8 packs sugar, 4 things of creamer and an entire can of whipped cream.”

He chuckles lightly, angling you the contents of his cup, which now contains a mixture of frothy melted cream and coffee the color of chocolate milk.

“You always did have a sweet tooth,” you respond, laughing and shaking your head. “Might as well just have a sundae while you’re at it.”

When you’re finished, you hold your mug in both hands, taking a generous sip of the steamy beverage and setting it back down with a gentle thud. Felix watches you intently, like he’s waiting for you to initiate the conversation, but you don’t, raising your eyebrows at him as you wait for him to speak.

“I’m just visiting for a bit,” Felix finally says, twiddling his thumbs on the table in front of him. “I’m doing my classes remotely this semester.”

You nod, saying nothing, as he searches for more words to say.

“Are your classes remote, too?” He continues.

“There are no classes,” you interrupt quickly, before he can press you for more information about school. “I dropped out of college.”

“You did?” Felix retorts, his eyes widening a little at how easily you admit to it. Not an ounce of shame, like it was planned from the start.

“Why?” He follows, tracing mindless patterns into the wood of the table below him.

“Because I hated it. Anything else you want to know?”

“Why are you all the way out here?”

“Because I love it here.”

“And how are your parents?”

“My dad died. Last spring. Are we done now?”

Felix swallows nervously, averting your gaze as he taps his knee nervously under the table.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

You just nod at him, pursing your lips a little and toying with the handle on your mug.

“Are you going to tell me about yourself, or do I need to play 20 questions, too?” You ask him, rolling your eyes as a smile grows on his face.

Felix chuckles lightly, relieved that you’ve already forgiven his clear overstepping here.

“I’m still in college. I’m just… undecided. I took a semester off a little while ago because I don’t know what I want to do. I haven’t actually been to class physically in… a good while.”

You nod empathetically at his words, the reality of them contradictory to the Felix you once knew. He was a straight A student when you knew him last, quick to join campus clubs and gain popularity wherever he went. People often commented on how different both of you were from each other- Felix, a bright young student who could light up a room with his smile, always so eager to ask questions and familiarize himself with the world around him. And you, a bit more reserved, your world often tainted by the reality of the hardships you’d faced, and the knowledge that life, when not lived for yourself, is often arduous.

“So you’re doing a bit of soul-searching,” you say to Felix, no stranger to the concept of tourists stopping through here to ‘start life anew’ at the sight of run-down coffee shops and bookstores. And when they find what they’re looking for, they’re gone again, like a soul could never thrive here in the town of Ember, even if it’s where it materialized.

“You could say that,” he responds, swirling the remainder of whipped cream around his cup with a spoon. “Things just haven’t been… great.”

You nod in response, averting his gaze as you study the wooden table below him.

“Well good luck,” you finally say, taking a generous gulp of your coffee and scanning the room for Yena before the conversation can go any further than the base-level declarations of your new separate lives.

“Do you remember that night we snuck out of your house?” Felix asks suddenly, just as you begin to get up.

“What?”

“It was raining. I think it was like 3 in the morning.”

You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes as he speaks.

“I didn’t have a car at the time,” Felix continues. “So you rode on the handles of my bike in the pouring rain. We went to watch the sunrise, only we didn’t realize that of course because we were in the middle of a storm, there was-”

“No visible sunrise,” you interrupt quietly. “We just watched the clouds turn a lighter shade of gray.”

Felix grins a little as you finish, nodding his head.

“Exactly. And when we got home at 5am, your dad was already awake. And he’d never met me before- we swore he’d have it out for me. But he didn’t- he brought us blankets, and he made us tea and laughed his ass off at our stupidity.”

“There’s no sunrise in a fucking storm!” You exclaim, echoing your dad’s lighthearted lecture from so long ago.

Felix laughs with you, the warm memory circling your minds, both of you equally as endeared by the tale you so vividly remember. As your laughter dies down, Felix keeps his gaze on yours, shooting you a half smile as he speaks again.

“Your dad really loved you. And… it’s one of my favorite memories, even today.”

You hold his gaze too, clutching the handle of your mug again and giving him a small nod, your lip quivering a little at the mention of your father.

“Thanks, Felix,” you say in a melancholy tone, taking a deep breath in an attempt to hold back your tears.

When the feeling’s passed, Felix spoons another dollop of whipped cream into his cup and brings it up to his lips.

“Your hair’s shorter,” he says with a chuckle.

“Yours is longer,” you retort. “And black.”

“I’m trying something new.”

“I can tell,” you say, laughing lightly. “And what’s with all the screws and washers in your ears?”

“My piercings?�� He replies. “They’re a fashion statement!”

“They look painful.”

“This one was,” Felix says, toying with the silver helix piercing in his lobe.

“And this one,” his fingers trail down to another silver stud, just below the first. “And maybe this one.”

“At what point is this just inflicting pain on yourself for fun?”

“I’m not finished!” Felix says, as you both share amused laughter. He thumbs over another row of silver studs, thinking intently as he speaks. “This one hurt, this one definitely hurt…”

*

“How was your dinner thing last night?” Chris asks in the morning, shooting you a knowing smile as he breaks a new roll of quarters in the till.

“Coffee,” you emphasize.

“Coffee,” he echoes. “How was coffee, with your old friend?”

“It was okay,” you respond, organizing a stack of records on the shelf across the counter. “Just catching up, mostly.”

“Yena said you guys were there for hours.”

“Maybe we were.”

“Hours?” Chris repeats, shaking his head. “What could you have possibly talked about that lasted hours?”

“Friend stuff,” you reply to him. “Maybe if you had some, you’d know.”

“Ouch, kiddo,” he says, clutching his chest in a joking manner as you both laugh.

As you turn to grab another stack of records, the bell over the door chimes, and your heads snap in the direction of the noise. And like you’d accidentally spoken him into existence again, Felix saunters in, a shy smile on his face. He looks a little more casual this time, in just jeans and a black t-shirt, but still different than you remembered him nonetheless.

“Speak of the angel,” Chris mutters, nudging you with his elbow as he waves at Felix.

“Hi,” Felix says cheerfully. “It’s nice and warm in here. Outside’s really cold.”

“Felix, what are you doing here?” You sigh, averting Chris’ shit-eating grin.

“What? I’m buying some CDs.”

“We have a good amount on clearance,” Chris says from where he’s standing. “Back shelf.”

“Thanks!” Felix replies, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

“Chris, would you give us a minute?”

And he nods, shooting Felix a thumbs up, before disappearing to the back room with a stack of papers.

“Look,” you begin, turning to Felix. “Last night was fun and all, but I’m still working a job. This doesn’t just make amends or something. It was great catching up, but respectfully, I really don’t want to see you again.”

Felix nods a little, and then he hoists something over his arm. It’s the first time you take notice of it- a black crossbody satchel, draped over one arm, his hand resting casually on the zipper.

“Then I suppose getting help for my project is a no?”

You narrow your eyes at him, gesturing to the bag with a tilt of your head. “What’s in the bag?”

“You don’t get to know if you don’t help me.”

“Just tell me.”

“Promise you’ll help me.”

“Felix-”

He holds the bag a little further away from his body, effectively shielding it from your view and shaking his head. “And it was such a good surprise, too.”

“Just tell me what’s in the stupid bag!”

Felix finally holds the bag out in front of him, unzipping it and carefully pulling out its contents. He reveals a digital camera to you, slinging the strap over his neck and holding it up to squint into the lens. “Smile!”

“What- that’s it?” You question, shielding your face from his view. “How does this pertain to me?”

“I’m photographing the town,” he replies, fidgeting with the lens in his hands. “I need some help.”

“Why would you need my help with that? I’m not a photographer.”

“Yeah but you know this town, and all of its little quirks.”

“There’s a maps app on your phone for a reason, Felix.”

Felix gets quiet again as he fidgets with the lens on his camera, doing nothing particularly useful as he prays you’ll change your answer. And he’s not lying- he does need to photograph this town, and all of its hidden gems for his creative project this semester. But he would be lying if he said having you keep him company wasn’t all he thought about when he went to bed last night, and woke up this morning and inevitably found himself back at your record shop.

“You used to be the best model,” Felix says just above a whisper, letting his camera hang loosely at his waist now. “I still have all my film photos of you.”

The room gets a little quiet as you meet his gaze, not missing the way his eyes seem to soften into a somber expression. He’s always had this way of begging- pleading for what he wants, and you’ve very seldom been able to say no to him. Seeing him stand in front of you now, heavy camera in his small hands and a dream circling his mind, you know the fact still stands true.

“If I do this for you, this is the last favor I run you.”

His lips pull into a toothy smile, his eyes forming little crescents as he nods eagerly.

“I promise. I won’t ask you for anything else.”

When Chris reenters the room, he shoots you a questioning look, which you wave off with a casual roll of your eyes.

“What time are you off today?” Felix asks, and Chris purposely nudges you as he passes by.

“Later. Just come by at closing or something.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Do you want me to bring a coffee or anything-”

“See you at closing, Felix,” you respond with a smile, and you gesture back to the door.

He nods, seeing himself out, camera firmly grasped in his two hands as he waves again through the window.

*

Felix drives the same shitty car he did when you last knew him. Its chipped navy blue exterior clashes horribly with the beige leather seats, the inside tainted by the permanent odor of cigarettes from its previous owner, Felix making futile efforts to mask the smell with pine tree air fresheners. The seatbelts are frayed, the legroom is nearly nonexistent and the live radio is completely busted, with the exception of the CD player.

“All jazz?” You question, shuffling through a neat book of Felix’s CD collection.

“Yeah,” Felix replies, two hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts in his seat. “They’re mostly just whatever’s cheapest.”

“I can tell,” you say with a chuckle, reaching the last page, where Four Decades of Jazz now occupies a sleeve of its own. You pop the CD into the player, turning the volume up a few notches and sitting back comfortably as the melodic tune of a saxophone fills the space around you.

“What’s this next place again?” Felix asks, as you shut your eyes and listen to the jazzy beat.

You’ve stopped at three locations already, all spots in Ember you’re particularly fond of. The old bridge that runs over train tracks, a narrow pathway into another world in late evenings. It’s always surrounded by starlings, which flock when the trains pass through and chirp songs that mirror the train’s cacophonous whistle.

The cathedral just north of your record shop, which you don’t attend regularly like the other town-goers do, but always greets you graciously with its towering stained glass windows and crested walls.

And a now abandoned grocery store just a few blocks away, the walls on the back now housing impressive graffiti murals and doodles.

“This last one is a more scenic spot,” you finally respond, opening your eyes as his car passes over a speed bump. “It’s my favorite one.”

Felix just nods as he continues driving, the road narrowing into a one-way route, the area surrounded by wet grassland and barely visible amidst the thick fog.

“What’s the whole premise of this project?” You ask him, realizing you haven’t quite figured out what part you play in this, anyway.

Felix is silent for a moment, his hands rotating over the wheel as he turns into another narrow road.

“It’s just a photography project. About observing your surroundings.”

“Why does it have to be here?”

And he smiles, chuckling lightly to himself, as he reaches a hand out and sprawls his palm over your mouth.

“You ask so many questions! You haven’t changed at all.”

You respond in muffled laughter, prying his hand off your mouth with two hands and shoving it back toward the steering wheel.

“I’m just curious!”

Your shared giddy laughter fills the car for several minutes, exchanging amused glances as he pulls into an open parking lot and circles around to look for a spot. And you let your fingertips graze along your cheek, briefly, remembering the sensation of his hand on you very well.

*

The fourth spot is a spacious grassland just past the hills, not necessarily a hidden gem by the town’s standards, but a place you discovered shortly after you moved out here. It requires hopping a fence to access, jogging down a steep dirt path and then marching back up a grassy hill to make it to your “sweet spot”- or a little dip in the top of the hill, perfect for setting up a picnic blanket and sitting upon for hours.

And of course the best part about it- the view. The whole town is visible from up here, the little buildings and shops you know so intimately an entirely different perspective from this height. Sometimes you imagine what you look like from this view- just a tiny speck of a human in a town not much bigger, crossing back and forth between your apartment, the diner and the record shop.

“You got it?” You ask Felix as he hoists himself up the last stretch of grass, balancing his camera in his hands and dusting off his jeans.

“Yeah,” he replies, coming around to occupy the spot next to you on the grass. You sit back on your hands, your legs crossed at the ankles as you take in the view you know so well. Felix sits cross-legged, toying with the lens of his camera as he prepares to snap a few photos.

“It’s nice up here,” he comments, filling the silence with the clicking noises of his camera.

“Yeah,” you respond shortly, your gaze fixed on the record shop. “It’s a pretty special place.”

He turns the lens, bringing his camera up and snapping a series of photos as you watch him out of your peripheral vision.

“How’d you find it?” Felix asks, scanning the photos and going to take another set.

“I get around,” you reply with a smile, keeping your answer short.

He takes one last set of photos, angling his camera at different sides, and when he’s done, he carefully places the camera in his carrier bag and leans back on his hands, too.

“You really have things figured out here,” Felix says a little quietly, turning to look at you while you keep your gaze straight ahead.

“I didn’t have a choice. It was up to me to keep things going.”

“And… how’s your mom?” He replies quietly.

You shake your head, adjusting your position so that you’re sitting cross-legged, too.

“I don’t know. Last I heard she was out west. New boyfriend or something.”

Felix nods reluctantly, not wanting to press the issue further.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he chimes in suddenly. “I hope you didn’t leave thinking that.”

“It’s fine,” you reply, brushing him off.

“No, listen to me,” Felix continues, turning to face you. “I know you hate talking about it. And I won’t bring it up again. But none of this was your fault. And that summer I wanted so badly to fix everything and take away your pain, and I just… I couldn’t. And I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything to him, fidgeting with a blade of grass on the ground below you and reminding yourself to keep it together. Don’t cry. Don’t feel.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Felix says bluntly, like he can read your thoughts.

“What thing-”

“That thing. Where you don’t let yourself feel.”

“I feel a lot of things, Felix.”

“Then why haven’t we talked about it yet?”

“Talked about about what?”

“Why you left,” he finally finishes, huffing frustratedly. “Why are we not addressing it? Am I supposed to just act like it didn’t happen?”

“Felix, I really think-”

“You said you would stay and fight for what was ahead of us. And then you disappeared on me. You know how hard it was to go on with my life like you weren’t a missing person for all I knew? You didn’t even call.”

“I changed my number,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, I figured that much after three years.”

Felix gets quiet again, shaking his head as he turns his gaze back to the view. You don’t say anything for a moment, his words swirling in your mind as your heart beats erratically. There’s so much to say- so much you want to explain to him. But the words are caught in the back of your throat, dissipating with every passing second you fail to vocalize them. He glances at you again, hoping you’ll come around- but you don’t, your gaze now transfixed on the blade of grass that rolls between the pads of your fingers.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it,” Felix finally says. “And… I’m sorry.”

A copper sunset falls over the buildings below you, casting shadows around you that dance along the blades of grass and disappear over the rolling hills. They shift from massive charcoal forms into smaller shapes that sway with the setting sun, quick to get away from you and disappear when they graze over your seated figures.

“You know there was a fire here, like, 50 years ago,” you say to Felix, still averting eye contact.

“There was?”

“Mhm. See there?” You question, pointing out a vast, empty field and gesturing to the buildings across from it.

“It started east, and it traveled west. And everything there burned, and a few people even died.”

“Wow,” Felix responds. “I didn’t know that. That’s terrible.”

“A lot of the neighboring cities didn’t know this place existed. But when they heard about the fire, many of them came out here, just to donate and help build things back up. Even the record shop burned. The one we have now is a lot smaller.”

He nods as he listens to your story, glancing back at the town as he pictures the blazing flames that ate away most of its structure back then.

“I always think about it,” you continue. “Everyday I imagine how hard it must’ve been to pick up and build things from the ground up again. Chris’ grandfather did it, with the record shop. And the diner did it. And they’re still doing it, keeping things running the way they are.”

Felix nods again, turning to look at you as you watch the town.

“No one could’ve prevented the fire. They could pick up and move on, but things still burned before they did, and people still died.”

Felix begins to say something, his lips parting, but his breath hitches in the back of his throat, and he settles in silence as you finish.

“I’m somewhere there,” you say to him after a silent pause. “I’m somewhere between the fire and the mending.”

And he doesn’t have to say anything else, understanding that this is your way of explaining things.

As darkness begins to fall over you both, you think back to the last time you sat with him like this, on the old hill in your hometown, waiting for a sunrise that never came around. You had passed the time kissing and touching each other so desperately, speaking visions of a new life into existence and making hushed promises to embrace the end together. An end that came to fruition without him, one you ran from before could look it in its face and brave it with Felix by your side.

But here on the familiarity of your hill, looking over a town that burned like the flames inside of you do now, you know there’s good, there are people who will make the journey to help you rebuild no matter what their reservations previously were. But it also takes time, and patience, and the strength to admit things have turned to ash in the first place.

And sometimes, like this town, things and people turn to Ember, a dim glowing reminder of what happened always present still.

*

Soul-searching capital of the world. 6:00pm. On the cusp of winter.

“Think you’re ready?” You query at Felix, pulling the straw out from your vanilla milkshake to lick the other end.

“I think so,” he responds, sorting through a stack of photos on the table.

“Felix, your whipped cream,” Yena says as she turns the corner and sets a small bowl down in front of him.

“Thank you,” Felix replies with a small smile, already spooning a generous amount into his coffee.

The last two weeks have been cordial between the two of you, a sense of normalcy finally present during your time together as Felix wrapped up his photography shots and developed them at the convenience store in town. The pictures are beautiful, little precious neutral-toned glimpses into your everyday life and the town you love so much. It feels like Felix finally understands you, neither pressing you for answers anymore, nor trying to initiate anything more between the two of you like you’d feared. And although the photography sessions have spanned a little more time than you’d originally anticipated they would, you’re well aware this will all be over soon, and then you can get back to the normal, simple life you lead, without having to look introspectively at the state of things. You’re fine, and Felix doesn’t force you to think about it anymore.

“I just have to submit these, and then I’ll be done for the semester,” Felix explains.

“Are you staying in town for the holidays?” You ask suddenly, realizing you’ve never even inquired what his plans are for after this photography project is finished.

“I don’t know,” Felix responds, glancing at the stack of photos. “I don’t really have any solid plans.”

You don’t miss the way he fidgets with the ring on his finger, averting your gaze and swallowing nervously. It’s another habit Felix possesses, getting you to drag him along practically anywhere, but it’s hard to say no when he makes every effort to be so polite and forgiving.

You sigh deeply, praying you won’t regret the words before they leave your mouth.

“Look, a couple friends I have throw a party every year around the holidays. We just get together to smoke and talk. You can come, if you want.”

Felix’s expression brightens almost instantly, meeting your gaze again with big hopeful eyes and a beaming smile.

“Really?”

“Don’t make it weird,” you say, chuckling softly. “It’s just a small thing to unwind.”

“I’ll be there,” Felix responds with a nod. “And I won’t make it weird, I promise.”

“So…” Yena teases, sliding into the booth across from you and raising her eyebrows. “What’s… going on between you two?”

“Who?” You question, cocking your head slightly.

“Oh come on,” she emphasizes. “You guys are attached at the hip. We barely get girl time together anymore. He can’t just be an old friend.”

“He is,” you voice back. “We just go way back, that’s all.”

“He’s cute,” she says, glancing out the window at Felix’s lanky figure making his way back to his car. You both watch as he struggles to get his car open, yanking on the door handle a little hard and stumbling back.

“Well he’s single,” you retort with a soft chuckle. “So if you ever get tired of Chris, he’s your guy.”

“I see the way he looks at you,” Yena explains, as she pulls out her notepad and adds her tips for the evening. “Like he has stars in his eyes or something. I remember when Chris and I met, he was a lot like that.”

“Yena, we’re really not-”

“I know,” she says, shaking her head with a smile. “Feelings, feelings. Yuck. I’m just saying.”

You turn your gaze toward the window again, watching as Felix starts his car and backs out of the parking lot, strands of his ebony hair falling into his eyes as he checks behind him.

And Yena smiles, taking notice out of her peripheral vision at the stars in your eyes, too.

*

Seungmin’s annual holiday party is a tradition you joined in on the first year you moved out here. Working at the record shop your first year, you had no friends, no family and you were completely isolated from the town when you weren’t picking up shifts. He was a regular customer with a knack for old rock records, and he pitied the shifts you worked while the rest of the town mingled at their annual holiday events you’d hear so much about. An invitation to his holiday party was a big feat for you, not only because it was one of the first events you attended here, but because it allowed you to spend the holidays alongside people again, something you hadn’t done since your father’s passing. And thus, Seungmin invites you back every year, never missing a chance to talk records with you and challenge you to eggnog shots.

“I just want to pop these in the trunk really quick,” you say as you open the car door on the passenger side and gesture for the key from Felix. “I usually lend Seungmin a few spare records we have-”

Felix hasn’t registered a word you’ve said, completely entranced by the way your short skirt hugs your hips, a black leather coat thrown over your shoulders and a different pair of sneakers than he’s used to seeing. It’s much different than how he’s normally seen you, dressed down in sweaters and baggy jeans.

And Felix looks particularly dashing, too, his ebony hair tied up again to display his impressive collection of ear piercings, a fitted leather jacket hugging his slim figure and black jeans that elongate his legs. You give him a once-over as he cranes his neck from the driver’s seat and tosses you the keys, unable to verbalize his regard for your outfit. But as you make your way around the car to the trunk, popping it open and placing Seungmin’s stack of records inside, he can’t help but stare in the interior view mirror at the way your skirt rides up when you bend over, exposing a little more of your thighs and leaving little to the imagination.

The drive to Seungmin’s is only a few blocks down from Ember Records, one which Felix completes while stealing very obvious glances at you and making every attempt to calm his erratically beating heart. You pretend the glances go unnoticed, keeping your gaze on the darkened road ahead and making small talk about the party. But you don’t miss the way Felix’s voice hitches in the back of his throat when he speaks, his trembling hands turning the wheel as he pulls into the cul-de-sac and puts the car in park.

And he wants nothing more than to stay here, with you, to sit in his dingy little car and talk with you about everything that happened, to assure you that you’re not alone in your process of mending- he’ll love you through it, regardless. But as Seungmin makes his way out the front door with a red solo cup in hand, calling loudly for you, Felix knows that’s not a possibility.

“Y/n!” Seungmin exclaims, a big toothy grin plastered on his face at the sight of you. He’s a bit taller than Felix is, long legs that frame his slim torso, and a chiseled jawline that makes Felix a little jealous. His voluminous chocolate tresses fall into his eyes as he speaks, and he uses a slender hand to push them away again, shooting you another flashy smile as he chuckles lightly.

“What’d you bring me this time?” He asks, balancing the presumed cup of alcohol in one hand as he watches you retreat to the trunk of the car.

“Couple rock, some alternative and that one artist you liked last time?”

“Hell yeah,” Seungmin replies, as he takes the records from your grasp and shuffles through them eagerly.

Felix clears his throat as he stands beside you, his hands shoved awkwardly in the pockets of his leather jacket as he waits for an introduction.

“Sorry,” you voice, stepping aside and gesturing to Felix.

“This is Felix. He’s an old friend of mine.”

Seungmin hardly looks up from his stack of records, just briefly glancing at Felix and giving him a small nod.

“Hey man. Cool to meet you.”

And Felix’s lips pull into a thin-lipped smile, averting his gaze, too, as he nods.

“Yeah. Same.”

Your eyes dart between Seungmin and Felix, both of them painfully awkward as they stand beside you, avoiding eye contact like some unspoken challenge and looming over you like you’re meant to be the host.

“Should we get inside?” You finally ask, wrapping your arms around yourself and gesturing to the house with a tilt of your head.

“Yeah, sorry,” Seungmin says with a soft chuckle, still averting Felix’s gaze and pivoting on his heel to begin toward the house. Felix gestures for you to follow, trailing behind you and doing his best to steady his nerves as the three of you finally make your way inside.

The house is already crowded for the evening, people standing just about everywhere, red cups in hand and joints pinched between their fingers. They exhale white clouds of smoke as they converse amongst themselves, their eyes all tainted red, as they let all the weed and alcohol consume their consciousness and instill a calm demeanor in themselves. Felix finds himself standing a little closer to you as you approach the sofa everyone’s sitting around, their bodies lazily slung over one another as they chat and drink.

“Y/n’s here,” Seungmin says, as he passes the sofa and heads into what Felix presumes to be his bedroom, with the stack of records in hand.

“Hey!” They call in misarticulated voices. You make your rounds, greeting each of them and exchanging brief anecdotes with them, while Felix remains standing with his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the way you smile cheerfully and acquaint yourself with everyone in the room.

You look so relaxed, so well-adjusted to your new life in this little town. As stories are thrown back and forth between yourself and the guests, Felix wonders how long you’ve known them to be able to converse with them to such an intimate extent. They share stories of your shifts at work, stories of previous parties, tales of past lovers they’ve had and late nights all of you spent up in this exact household. Felix can’t help but wonder what he was doing during those moments- probably studying for a test at university, or hooking up with someone he didn’t exactly care for. And by nighttime, he was likely up thinking of you- pondering where you’d gone, what you were up to. If you thought about him just as much as he thought about you.

Part of him wants to be angry, listening in on your stories like this- you’re laughing about parties, exchanging tales of difficult customers- moments that occurred while he was up waiting for you, hoping one day you’d change your mind about everything and return. Felix swore every sunset began to look the same without you there to watch them alongside him, every sunrise much bleaker than the last- even the stars he’d gaze at through his window seemed to lose their meaning.

But watching you like this, a smile that hasn’t left your face once since entering the house and the familiar sound of your harmonious laughter, he knows maybe you did the right thing, after all. Maybe Felix wasn’t a part of this plan life had for you- and perhaps, it’s time to come to terms with the fact that he never will be.

“Felix?” You question, effectively snapping him out of the trance he’s fallen into just by watching you.

“Huh?” He responds, aware that the row of guests on the couch appear to be waiting for him to say something.

“How long are you here for?” One of them repeats, his stare a little cold as he raises his eyebrows and prompts an answer out of Felix.

“Oh, uh… I’m not sure yet. Just for the holidays, I guess.”

They nod in collective unison, no one saying a word as they gauge how nervous he seems to be. And you shoot them an apologetic smile, also clocking Felix’s awkward demeanor as he remains silent and avoids carrying on with the conversation.

“Anyone got a light?” You finally break the silence, and everyone chimes in to answer, offering you joints from between their fingers and fishing colorful lighters out from their pockets. You take a seat on the rug, patting the space next to you, and Felix follows your lead, crossing his legs in the spot beside you and taking a hit from the joint you offer him.

Felix feels himself calm a little as the mellow sensation begins to wash over him, his worries dissipating as he listens to you begin to share another story with the group of people. And his mind wanders back to the past, contemplating your actions and mirroring them with the current state of things.

Three hours into the party, you’re both a little buzzed, feeling much more mellow than you had upon entering, despite taking only one hit from a joint. The room is heavy with thick clouds of smoke, the pungent smell of weed and alcohol present at every corner of the room. Just sitting here and talking gets you high, and you find yourself enjoying the company alongside Felix.

It reminds you of back then, when you and Felix used to attend parties together and run off to random bedrooms for a quick fuck. You’d often find yourself leaving early to spend time just between the two of you, hitting all your signature spots to catch sunrises or binge greasy food. And Felix feels much more relaxed around you now, making small talk with the guests and observing the way you try your hardest to include him in the conversations. As Seungmin takes another hit from his joint, he slouches back in the concave leather of the couch, his gaze darting over the two of you as Felix eyes you curiously.

“So what’s the deal between you two?” He asks, narrowing his eyes as he awaits a response.

“We’re just old friends-” Felix begins to say, but you interrupt him before Seungmin can catch the answer.

“He’s my best friend.”

Felix’s head snaps in your direction, unsure if maybe he heard you incorrectly, or if you’re genuinely claiming that Felix, whose guts you’ve hated for the better part of three years now, is your best friend.

“Best friends?” Seungmin repeats in slurred speech, and you give him a nod.

“Yeah,” you say again confidently. “He’s my best friend.”

And Felix’s lips pull into an involuntary smile, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red as he reaffirms your words.

When you turn to smile at him, he pats the space in front of him, extending his legs so that he’s created a spot for you to settle in. And in your buzzed, mellowed out state, you comply, scooting back and slotting yourself between his long legs, letting yourself lean back against his chest and shutting your eyes briefly. Felix reluctantly brings two hands around you, holding you a little closer to him, but you don’t protest the action, the familiar sensation of his arms around you feeling comfortable and safe like it always used to.

“I’d think you guys were fucking if I didn’t know any better,” Seungmin voices, joining a chorus of laughter as he brings the joint up to his lips again.

“So what if we were?” You retort casually, feeling the way Felix’s embrace gets a little tighter around you.

“Nothing wrong with it. It’s just easy to see through you guys. Especially the way this Danny from Grease wannabe looks at you.”

And Felix’s eyes furrow at the statement, well aware of the fact that Seungmin’s begun to get a little aggressive, but not wanting to incite anything that might jeopardize your friendships.

“I should probably go,” Felix says just above a whisper, his mouth hovering just over your shoulder so that you can hear him over all the noise.

“What? No,” you reply, turning your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are wide, his lip trembling a little as he speaks. Felix isn’t confrontational- a fact you’re very aware of.

“I don’t want to start anything-” he begins to say, and you place a hand on his forearm comfortingly.

“Then let’s both get out of here. I’m kinda bored, anyway.”

He’s surprised at the offer- and undoubtedly moved by the prospect that you’ve chosen to stick with him instead of stay here at the party with all your friends. And because he wants to spend the time with you, he doesn’t protest when you turn to voice your decisions to the crowd.

“Well Danny from Grease and I are getting out of here. So you can let your imaginations run wild since you’re so obsessed with us.”

Seungmin chuckles lightly, too stoned to ask you to stay, and candidly, to care about any of it.

“My old records are on the kitchen table,” Seungmin says, as he shuts his eyes and exhales a generous cloud of smoke. “Catch you guys later.”

*

“Where are we going?” Felix asks, as he puts the car into park and watches you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“I have to put the records I lent to Seungmin back in the shop. It’ll only take like two minutes.”

He nods in response, his gaze fixed on the darkened record shop, not used to seeing it at this hour.

“You coming?” You ask him, gesturing to the door, and Felix snaps out of his tranced state, unbuckling his seatbelt, too.

As you twist your keys and push the door open, Felix feels a bit unsettled seeing the shop at this hour. The shelves are pitch dark at the hour, the usually colorful vinyl all looking indistinguishable as they sit in stacks against each other and gather dust. The neon sign above the CD wall is shut off, not even the gentle hum of the bulb present amongst the silence. And the doorway to the back room looks like something out of a horror movie, seeming as though someone- or something, could pop out at any given moment. It feels wrong being here- and he knows he probably shouldn’t be, but he’s not in the place to leave your side just yet.

“Don’t turn on the lights,” you say to Felix when you enter, him following closely behind you. “I don’t want anyone to know we’re here.”

You begin toward the back room, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Felix is following. And he is, albeit reluctantly.

The back room is much smaller than Felix had originally anticipated it to be. It smells of paint, looking far more run-down than the rest of the store, and he’s not sure how anyone can take a lunch break back here considering the lack of table space and seating options.

“This is the break room?” Felix asks, squinting his eyes when you pull the chain beside the medallion lamp and illuminate the room with a dim, orange glow.

“Yeah,” you reply, now shuffling through Seungmin’s old records and putting them in their respective genres. “This is where I eat my sandwiches.”

He chuckles softly, running his hands over the series of music posters pinned to the cork walls, taking in the view you see everyday at noon.

“There’s a record player in here!” Felix exclaims, bending down to examine the 6200 marantz wood turntable on a little cart, just to the left of the dining table.

“Well this is a record shop, you reply with a chuckle, slotting the last few of Seungmin’s vinyl into the shelf. “It wouldn’t make sense if we didn’t have one.”

“Does it work?” Felix asks, tracing the silicone grooves of the platter with his fingers.

“Of course,” you respond, finally turning around to meet his gaze. “Pick something.”

Felix scans the shelves at the neat rows of vinyl, all packed together and indistinguishable from their thin colorful spines alone. He pulls one out, examining illustrations of flowers on the cover, and then slots it back into its respective home. Another flaunts an abstract pattern of cool-toned hues, which Felix observes briefly, and places it back where it belongs, too.

“I can’t decide,” he voices plainly, his eyes scanning over the rows that span the entire length of the room, some of them visibly much older than the rest.

Your fingers graze the spines, too; letting the cracked ridges serve as indication of their age, and then you pinch one between the pads of your fingers, pulling it out to examine the cover. It’s painted sky blue, with images of autumnal trees that stand tall and contrast the gentle hues nicely. In bold red cursive text, the title is scrawled at the top, followed by a brief list of credits and arrangements.

“The Seasons, by Tchaikovsky,” you read aloud.

You recall putting this one on the shelf after a donation a few weeks prior, never having listened to it yourself.

“Will you play it?” Felix asks, and you nod your head in response, already pulling out the black disc and placing it neatly on the record platter. You flip it on, and then bring the tonearm to a random spot, letting the cue lever lower it into place and begin playing. After a few seconds of fidgeting with the volume, the soft sounds of piano begin to fill the room, a somber arrangement that slows into gentler, discoordinate notes.

“This one’s probably winter,” you say to Felix, hoisting yourself up on the table and sitting on your hands. “It sounds sad.”

“Yeah,” he responds, his eyes fixated on the slow turn of the disc, a soft crackling noise emitting as the tonearm runs over the grooves.

Felix suddenly reaches for the bag slung over his shoulder, unzipping the pouch and pulling out his camera.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a soft chuckle, amused at the way he so quickly rushes to adjust the settings.

“I want to take a picture. It’s a nice record player.”

And with the rhythmic click of the lens, he snaps a series of photos, angling himself a bit higher to capture every moving part of the old thing. When he’s finished, he examines the photos himself, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looks over the moment in time captured so perfectly on the little screen of his device. Without warning you, Felix then holds the camera up once more, snapping a quick photo of you and chuckling softly to himself.

“Stop!” You say through laughter, holding a hand up to shield your face as he snaps a few more. “Felix, I’m serious!”

“It’s just for me!” Felix exclaims, bringing his camera down again and scrolling through the candid photos.

As he examines them, you notice how close he is to you now, standing in between your legs that hang lazily off the edge of the table, his frame towering over yours.

He meets your gaze again after a moment, taking notice of the proximity, too, and swallowing nervously.

“You used to let me take pictures of you,” Felix says after a moment of silence.

“That was so long ago,” you reply with a smile. “Things are different now.”

His eyes dart over your bare face, your eyes a little hooded from exhaustion and the mellowed state that overtake your body. It’s a sight familiar to him, still, the way you keep your words short when you’re not asking him questions, nothing except a small knowing smile on your face. But it’s one he’s thought about for so long, painting pictures of you in his head and scanning old photos, like your physical state would somehow come to fruition the more he studied it.

“Please let me take a few more,” Felix says, his voice dropping an octave as his eyes flicker between your lips and your gaze. He knows you’re going to say no, go away, or some other version of it.

But this time, you don’t, taking careful note of the way he so politely asks for what he wants. Memories of him have plagued your mind all night, the feeling of his hands around you still lingering on your body, recalling the way he used to ask so politely to fuck you in the bathroom of house parties like you wouldn’t say yes every single time.

And in the absence of your words, you slide your coat off, discarding it on the table behind you and keeping your gaze locked on his, in just a tight-fitting t-shirt and skirt.

Felix brings his camera up immediately, lest you change your mind like he knows you probably will, and adjusts his lens again, before snapping a single photo of you, sitting so innocently on the table in the back room of the record shop. Your expression remains unchallenged, your eyes softening a little as he pulls away to look at you again. And this time, you let two hands cross over your torso, pulling up the corners of your shirt and letting it ride up until it’s nearly off of you. Felix doesn’t waste any time, bringing his camera to eye-level again and snapping a photo eagerly, his eyes wide as he observes the sight of your hardened nipples through the lens.

The discoordinate piano music still plays from behind him, its tempo increasing gradually as you let one hand position itself over the mound of your breast, kneading gently as Felix positions his camera to zoom in. He snaps another set of photos, bringing his camera even closer to capture you at every erotic angle, and then he pauses briefly, as your hands move to your skirt.

You tug gently, not yet pulling it off, and his photos capture the moment you finally undo the small zipper on the side, revealing the hem of your lace panties to him and looping a finger through them. He feels his breath hitch in his throat, wanting to clarify that he’s not forcing you to do any of this, but too mesmerized to ask you to stop.

And then before he can verbalize his thoughts, you’re tugging the skirt down, too, pulling it off over your sneakers to discard it on the floor below you. Felix can’t look away from the sight, your body hugged so delicately in lace lingerie, your legs parted a little for his photos and practically begging him to come touch you. And yet you say nothing, amused at the sight of Felix gasping over your sitting figure, letting him take the reins and do whatever it is he pleases, even if the implications are clouded by your past.

Felix’s slender hands snap a few more photos, focusing meticulously on your clothed core and your hardened nipples for his own personal use. And then he sets his camera down at his waist again, pulling the camera strap off his body and shoving it back into his satchel. When he turns to say something, he can’t, still entranced by the familiar feeling in his stomach at the body he’s bore witness to so many times.

“Felix,” you say softly, coaxing him to come a little closer.

He obliges, lips parted nervously, as he takes another step forward and allows your legs to rest casually on his.

“I meant to ask you,” you say, cocking your head slightly, bringing one hand up to caress his cheek with your thumb.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice just barely above a whisper. “Anything.”

“Where have all your freckles gone?” You finally ask, observing the way his skin still runs completely clear around his cheeks and eyes, not a hint of a galaxy visible to you, even at this proximity to him.

“Makeup,” Felix responds with a soft chuckle. “They didn’t match my new look.”

And you bring your other hand to his other cheek, grazing your thumbs over his soft skin, before pressing down a little harder and wiping the foundation off of him. He’s right- the beige stars you’d remembered so well begin to appear once again, scattered generously across his button nose and his big eyes. He lets you rub it off of him, not taking his eyes off of yours as you rid him clean of the stuff and then graze your thumbs over him again, in much gentler motions.

“That’s better,” you reply, your eyes darting between his now visible freckles and his plump, parted lips. “They’re my favorite part about you.”

And Felix doesn’t respond, his mind running rampant with thoughts and intentions, as he brings his lips a little closer to yours and finally kisses you, like he’s been dreaming of doing all winter.

You reciprocate instantly, your hands cupping the back of his neck as his lips work against yours, desperately leaning into you and letting his hands snake down the sides of your waist. His kisses are familiar, so reminiscent of years past when he’d kiss you exactly like this, in the proximity of whatever house party bathroom you could run off to and let him have his way with you. And Felix remembers the sensation all too well, this mutual pining of silently yearning for each other in the presence of other strangers until he could confess his love to you through whispered love making sessions when you were finally alone. Felix whimpers softly between kisses, as your hands snake up his t-shirt and graze along the toned flesh of his abdomen. You hum in response, letting your hands tangle in his hair now as he presses further into you and works gentle kisses down your neck. Both your hands find his silky ponytail, pulling off his hair tie in one swift motion and tossing it aside so that his long tresses hang loosely in front of his face, and you tangle your fingers in his ebony roots, tugging slightly as you pull him into your embrace and feel him trail back up to your lips. He pulls away momentarily to gauge your expression, worried you might ask him to stop, but your eyes are wide with anticipation, your breaths labored as you pull him into you again and arch your back into him. You can feel Felix smile into the kiss, satisfied with the turn of events from tonight's party- he’d been so certain you would leave with Seungmin, or shut him out again. But here in the dimly lit room of the record shop, your lips on his as your hands trail lower to unbuckle his belt, there’s no denying you want this just as badly as he does.

And Felix can’t help but wonder how long have things been this way- had something changed at the party? Something that would’ve led you to call him a “best friend” rather than an old one, leave the party with him and even drag him to the record shop after hours, knowing very well you could’ve come alone? Something that instilled an equal sense of desperation in you, to want his lips on yours as badly as he does right now, your bodies yearning for each other like you once did, as you undo his belt buckle and snake it out from his belt loops to discard it on the floor?

He’s not entirely sure- but he also can’t think straight when your hands are tugging at the hem of his jeans, begging him to take them off and mirror the same level of undress you are now. What he can think about are your lips working against his, the gasps that escape you when he grazes his fingers down your sides between kisses and the forte echo of Tchaicovsky’s piano record filling the room with sultry harmonies.

As Felix unbuttons his jeans, you help him tug them down so that they’re pooled around his ankles, the two of you now equal parts undressed and grabbing desperately at the now exposed flesh. You let your hand find Felix’s, wrapping your fingers around his slender wrist, and then bringing it to your panties, where you rest his hand against your clothed core and allow him to graze over your growing wetness.

“Jesus,” Felix exhales, pressing his middle and ring finger down against your core and rubbing in slow, back and forth motions. “I forgot how horny you get when you smoke.”

And you chuckle lightly, not breaking eye contact as he continues to rub you over your lace panties, the wetness against your thin fabric increasing with every gentle movement of his fingers.

“Will you do something about it?” You ask sweetly, one hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

Felix cocks his head slightly, a smug expression pulling on his lips as he works you a little faster now.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

You chuckle in response, growing impatient as he teases your aching clit over the fabric of your panties and keeps his gaze on yours. He’s calculated with his movements, rubbing in gentle motions, pressing down firmly with every other stroke to watch the way your legs squirm desperately around him and ache for more.

“Don’t make me ask,” you say shyly, your hips rutting toward him to chase the friction of his fingers.

Felix’s gaze drops to your core, his lips parted with curiosity at the sight of you now rocking gently toward him, letting your movements do the pleasing as he almost entirely stops rubbing you.

“What if I wanted you to ask for it?” Felix says briskly, a serious expression on his face as he pulls his hand away from you momentarily.

“Felix, you already know what I-”

“Ask for it,” Felix interrupts, keeping his gaze locked on yours now. His eyes are hooded with lust, his eyebrows slanted in a challenging expression as he waits for you to say something. And he knows he’s never been one to make you ask for it- in fact, he was usually the one doing all the begging, whining when you’d take too long to touch him or begging you to let him finish. But coupled with the recent development of his new look, you can’t help but wonder if it’s not the only thing that’s changed about him.

“Ask for it,” Felix states again. “Or I’ll get dressed again.”

And you can’t bring yourself to, still riddled with questions at the peculiar phenomenon of Felix making you ask for sex, desperate to ask if this is a one-time occurrence, or if he’s intent on getting you to beg for his cock from here on out. Does he make all his hookups beg for it like this? Do they oblige without question, or are they just as taken aback with it as you are?

When Felix takes note of your silence, he doesn’t waste another second, pulling up his jeans again and beginning to work the buttons once more. And you feel your heartbeat quicken at the sight, disheartened at the action and still desperate for him to touch you, to fuck you, like your body’s been craving the past hour you’ve been back here.

In a desperate attempt to stop him, your hands reach out, grasping his wrists in yours and watching the way his cock remains tented under the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Please,” you say shortly, a sheepish pout on your face.

“Please what?” He responds, cocking his head to gauge your reaction.

“Please would you fuck me?” You finally say, exhaling frustratedly and flickering your gaze away from him, almost embarrassed to be asking him like this. But Felix’s lips pull into a toothy grin, leaning back into you for a kiss and beginning to work his jeans off of him again.

“Was that so hard?” He mumbles against your lips teasingly.

“Mhm,” you murmur back against him, hearing his jeans pool around his ankles once again as his hands cup around the small of your back.

“It was?” Felix queries, one hand looping through the hem of your panties and grazing along the elastic. “If I remember correctly, we used to play this little game all the time.”

You gasp a little as he pulls the elastic between the pads of his fingers, letting it snap against your delicate skin again and rest against your reddened skin momentarily. Felix observes the way you say nothing, waiting for him to undress you, touch you- anything, without so much as a plea for him to do so. And he’s undeniably roused seeing you this desperate for him, adjusting your position on the table to calm your pulsating core, your hands searching for him and your lips trying so hard to keep purchase on his. Felix feels his cock swell at the confirmation that perhaps you have been thinking of this just as much as he has, and that maybe leaving was the hardest thing you ever did, the way he always hoped it was.

“Are you sure about this?” Felix asks before he can ponder the words.

And in painfully slow movements, you find the hem of your elastic waistband yourself, tugging it down and breaking away from the kiss to snake it off your ankles and discard it onto the floor. The sight alone is confirmation enough for him- your pussy is glistening with wetness, your folds coated generously in your own arousal and your aching clit a robust shade of pink as you wait for him to finish his little game of neglect. Felix can’t even respond at the sight of your cunt on display for him, too engrossed in the familiarity of what it looked like all those past years, exactly like this, begging for him and only him. On the counters of bathroom sinks, in empty fields, in the back of your car and even when his fingers were shoved in it under blankets in a room full of people. Always taking him so wholly and effortlessly, like your cunt was made to have him fill it, squirming around him with hushed moans and whimpers, your bodies intertwining into one tangled mess of pleasure and pure, unadulterated love for one another.

“Felix, please fuck me,” You repeat, a small smirk on your face as you watch Felix stumble over his words, his cock fully erect in the fabric of his boxers.

And Felix can’t answer you, already attaching his lips to yours again and letting his hands come around your back to unclasp your bra. His motions are much quicker now, no lingering intention to make you ask for it or confirm your stance- but every intention to fuck you, fill you, like he knows you deserve.

When your bra is unfastened, he tosses it aside, letting his hands find the mounds of your breasts and kneading them with steady motions. You moan into his mouth as he works you, your legs wrapping around his hips to press his clothed cock into your wetness and grind softly against you. Felix winces at the sensation, doing his best to stave off a premature orgasm while you rut your hips gently against him and let your head fall back in pleasure. And mirroring the pleasurable sensation of his thumbs rubbing circular motions over your nipples, he brings his mouth down to your chest, taking a breast in his mouth and sucking with little whimpers. Your head comes forward to meet his gaze again, his big, innocent eyes locked on yours as he takes the flesh between his lips and swirls his tongue around your nipple. His plump lips remain locked around your mound, alternating between gentle kisses and then back to sucking on your nipple, like he might coax fluids out of it if he tries enough. And he looks so guiltless, so incorrupt as he lets his eyelids flutter shut and your nipple graze his teeth. His actions almost don’t match this darkened, grunge appearance he now sports- and you swear you can still see the blonde locks that once framed his wide eyes and his bright appearance.

As Felix moves to your other nipple, you wrap your legs tighter around him, swaying your hips in gentle rocking motions to stimulate his clothed erection against your wetness and provide some relief to both of you. And he arches his eyebrows up in pleasure, stifled moans escaping his lips as he finally releases your breast from his mouth, a string of saliva connecting you still, as his gaze drops to his boxers.

Hard- he’s unbearably hard underneath his boxers, the tip of his cock kissing the constraining fabric of his boxers that ruts against your exposed clit and sends waves of pleasure through both your listless bodies. And Felix knows if he doesn’t fuck you now, he might finish at the sight of you alone, your cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink and your cunt arching desperately into him as you wait for him to undress. So he does- one hand finds the elastic waistband of his black boxers, pulling them over his cock and wincing as it grazes against the precum dribbling down his tip. You run your hands over his toned abs, letting your eyes meet his cock as it protrudes so eagerly for you, and it looks almost painful how hard he is for you, reddening at the tip and dripping with beads of his preemptive arousal.

Felix leans in to kiss you again, and as he does, the bare flesh of his cock finally grazes your clit, running smoothly over your arousal and making you clench around nothing. You gasp at the sensation, scooting closer to him as your clit finally gets some attention from him, and Felix smiles as he trails his kisses down to your neck. While he sucks little bruises along the flesh there, he brings a slender hand around the base of his cock, guiding his tip back to your clit and rubbing his length along your flesh with more pressure now, a fervent moan escaping your lips as he does. He glides so effortlessly along you, your arousal allowing him to move so freely against you, still eager for him to fill you up. And when his lips move back up to yours, his hand guides his tip back and forth again, now rubbing against your clit in steady motions. He mimics the way his fingers stimulate you, only it’s better like this, your cunt contracting as you prepare to take his length.

“Felix,” you whine, as his cock rubs back and forth over your wettened entrance.

“What is it?” He coos gently, smiling into you as saliva dribbles between your hungry mouths.

“Put it in,” you order plainly, parting your legs a little further to signify what it is you want so badly. And Felix already knows, pressing his tip into you just a mere centimeter to gauge your reaction, satisfied at the way you whimper and push yourself against him even further.

“Is this what you want?” Felix muses, holding his base to keep from sliding into you involuntarily.

“Yes,” you whine again, tangling your hands in his hair. “Just fuck me like you used to.”

And Felix feels his heartbeat quicken as the filthy memories grace his mind again, images of you exactly like this.

He says nothing, opting to end his teasing streak, as he finally steadies his hands on the sides of your waist and pushes into you, your sopping pussy taking him with complete ease. You let out a fervent moan at the feeling, your cunt clenching desperately around him as he works to bottom out inside of you and find his footing. His girth takes little to adjust to, but he’s long, taking a good minute or two until the base of his cock is disappearing inside of you and being coated in your arousal. Before even moving, his tip is grazing your cervix, the familiar feeling making your stomach turn with anticipation as you remember what it feels like.

Felix’s lips part in pleasure, his eyebrows arched up as he pulls out again and then thrusts just once, relishing in the way your pussy contracts around him again and takes him so perfectly. Your hands find purchase in his hair again, tangling in his ebony roots, as he pulls out a little, and then begins to move. His cock fills every inch of you so well, grazing every corner of your dripping cunt with such fullness, as his wet kisses work against your lips and coat your mouth in his needy saliva. Felix has always been a particularly vocal lover, you remember, as the room fills with his deep grunts and moans at every thrust. His fingers dig into your flesh, holding onto you with strength as your legs wrap around him to steady yourself and push him into you fully. Your bodies one again, your limbs tangled until it's discernible who is who atop the table like this. But when he slows his movements and kisses you tenderly, you don’t care about the implications, about the past or what this will mean for your future. All you care about is Felix inside of you like he used to be for most of your relationship, making up for all this wasted time as he fucks you and breathes heavy grunts into the shell of your ear.

“God, I missed this,” Felix breathes, his voice shaky as he continues to pump into you.

“Me too,” you moan back, lining his jaw with kisses as he moves a little faster.

“You used to let me take pictures of you,” Felix repeats for the second time this evening. “You remember? Used to touch yourself while I’d snap photos of you. God, the way your fingers would disappear into your tight little pussy. Had me begging to fuck you at the end of every session, baby.”

“I remember,” you voice back in labored breaths. “You’d fuck me so well. All you had to do was adjust that stupid lens and you had me dripping for you.”

“Fuck, baby,” Felix groans, shutting his eyes as he thrusts a little harder. “Gonna make me cum for you.”

“Yeah?” You echo, wrapping your legs a little tighter around him and crossing them at the ankles. “Will you fill me up like you used to?”

Felix nods as his eyes remain squeezed shut, the room teeming with the squelching sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of your cunt.

“Come on, baby,” you plead, one hand angling his face toward you to press repeated, chaste kisses to his lips. “Fill me up. I know you want to.”

“I do want to-”

“Cum for me,” you order, grazing your free hand over his abdomen and tracing little circles over his v-line.

And Felix’s cock twitches inside of you twice, signaling his nearing finish as he quickens his pace again, now fucking you with even more force and hitting your sensitive cervix with every thrust.

“I’ll let you take whatever pictures you want,” you say to him as you pull him close and nibble the lobe of his ear. “As long as you fuck me like this every time you’re finished.”

And the promise is all it takes for Felix to reach his orgasm, his cock twitching inside you once more before he spurts ropes of his warm cum inside of you, filling your cunt with copious amounts of his arousal for you and fucking every last drop back into you. Your pussy contracts at the sensation of his warm cum grazing your insides, reaching your finish, too, as he brings a hand to rub your clit through your release. The table below you is sticky with your juices as you steady your breathing, Felix bringing a hand around the base of his cock to pull out of you and rest limply against your pulsing, sore entrance.

The room around you is quiet again, the gentle buzz of the pendant lamp replacing your moans as you let your hands wrap around him and hold him in your embrace. Felix presses a series of tender kisses to your forehead as you remain, his slender hands moving strands of sweaty hair out of your forehead to replace them with his loving kisses.

And the record has run through all its seasons now, having ended several minutes ago, as the needle runs over the last groove in repetitive clicking sounds, an indication to flip it over.

*

A precious town once set ablaze. 4:00pm. Spring on the horizon.

“To have hysteria or mania. 7 letters.”

Felix thinks for a moment, his eyes darting up to the ceiling and then back to where Yena is sat across from him.

“Madness?”

She glances over the crossword puzzle once, counting empty little boxes, and then begins to pen in his answer.

“How are you so good at this?” Yena asks, shaking her head. “You could be on a crossword puzzle reality show. If that exists.”

He chuckles lightly, observing as Yena checks her watch, and then shuts the book in front of her.

“My break is almost done,” she says as you chew on a French fry. “I’m gonna catch the bathroom really quick. You guys need anything?”

“I’m good,” you chime in, and Felix shakes his head from across you.

“Thank you,” he says politely, shooting her a little smile as she slides out of the booth and back toward the kitchen.

Felix’s gaze turns back to you now, a smile on his face as you nibble the remainder of the french fry, cocking your head at his curious gaze. He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his sneaker glide gently up your ankle, grazing your bare skin with the sole of his shoe and shooting you a knowing smile.

“Felix, not here,” you say, pushing him away gently with your own shoe and letting your soles rest atop his laces.

“That’s not what you said this morning,” Felix says, swirling half-melted cubes of ice around in his glass of water.

“Harder Felix, harder!” He mimics quietly in a high-pitched voice, as he brings his glass up to his lips and takes a generous sip.

You stomp on his laces as he chuckles between sips of water, dribbling a stream from his lips when you kick him lightly in his ankles.

Don’t fuck your exes.

Advice that anyone with half a brain would give you- and advice you really should’ve taken to heart. But you can’t help it, finding yourself between the sheets with Felix nearly every night for the past two weeks, his lips all over yours and pleasuring you better than you’d ever remembered it. You tell yourself you’re just making up for lost time, both of you still young and naive, all of this over once he actually leaves for college again. He stayed for Christmas, gifting you a new pair of canvas sneakers and fucking you while reruns of Christmas rom-coms played in the background of your apartment. He was your New Year’s kiss at Seungmin’s party, where you swore again that the two of you weren’t dating, forcing you to press your lips to his only when you were sure the others weren’t paying attention at the drop of the ball. And when you’re not picking up shifts at the record shop, you’re with him every waking second of the day, keeping Yena company during her shifts as you feign your giddy attraction to him while she’s not looking.

We’re not dating, you’ve emphasized to Felix several times, and he doesn’t fight it, giving you a knowing nod as he utters a repetitive yeah, yeah. But it’s mostly because he knows you can’t say no to him, not when he’s bringing you slices of pie at work and burning CDs with all his favorite songs for you, slipping them into your bag without you even noticing until you’re home again. Of course there’s the physical factor, too- Felix is undoubtedly your best sexual partner, and he always has been. He’s quick to recognize when you’re aroused, slipping away with you in the backseat of his car to pleasure you, without any protest from you. He’s also understanding of all your intimate moments together, not fighting it when you remind him this is just temporary, all while he’s thrusting into you on the back room table of the record shop at late hours of the night. He just smiles against your bruised skin, reminding you that you have yet to push him away yet. And when he’s holding you in the gentle embrace of your afterglow, pressing kisses to your skin and reminding you how beautiful he’s always thought you are, he’s right- you don’t push him away from any of it. Maybe it’s the physical factor, maybe it’s little acts of service he performs to win you over. And perhaps it’s also because you don’t feel so lonely for once- the last time he was beside you like this, you still had a family, one that loved Felix like their own and encouraged this shared life with him. You still had dreams of being something bigger, aspirations while you were in school and visions of a life with Felix, because back then, he was always a part of your plan. And though things are different now, his beaming smile and lighthearted jokes serve as a reminder of a simpler time, and it feels right. So you don’t push him away- it’s a secret kept between the two of you, but he’s here with you, regardless.

“Will you let me take some photos of you today? ” Felix inquires, flipping through the book of crossword puzzles left on the table by Yena. You watch as he adjusts the familiar fleur de lis ring on his finger before uncapping a pen and filling in one of the words.

“I have an early shift tomorrow,” you reply, toying with the crumpled straw wrapper in front of you.

“I won’t be long,” Felix retorts.

“I know, Felix, but I have to get up really early tomorrow and I-”

“Let me take you out,” Felix says, not looking up from the crossword puzzle in front of him. “Just tell me where.”

You sigh, scanning the empty tables around the diner. There are only a handful of guests at this hour, most of them elderly folk chatting quietly amongst themselves. A slow jazz tune plays overhead, and sunlight beams through the large window beside you as Felix finishes penning in an answer, shutting the book again and folding his hands in front of him to meet your gaze.

“I have something for you,” Felix adds.

“You don’t have to buy me gifts, Felix.”

“I’m aware. But this one’s special for me, too.”

“What is it?”’you ask, a growing curiosity at his words.

“I don’t have it with me. You’ll have to let me give it to you later today.”

You sigh, crossing your arms in front of you and rolling your eyes sarcastically. He’s always known how to get exactly what he wants.

“Just this one time,” you reply, knowing you sound like a broken record at how many times you’ve sworn it to be just one more time.

“Just this one time,” Felix echoes, toying again with the ring on his finger.

And you nod reluctantly, agreeing to whatever he’s planned, for the purpose of pleasing him and because you’re unable to decline.

As he flips open the book again, he uncaps the pen once more, picking up where he left off and reading the question aloud to you.

“A discussion aimed at reaching an agreement,” he voices, nibbling the cap of his pen again.

“Negotiation,” you say, observing the way a smile grows on his face as he pens in your answer.

“That’s it,” he says, gripping the pen enthusiastically as he crosses out the question.

And the sole of his shoe grazes your ankle again, trailing up your flesh teasingly as he moves onto the next.

*

“Where’s she going?” Felix queries, reaching into the bowl of popcorn in his lap to grab another mouthful.

“I don’t know,” you respond, chuckling at the way he shoves a generous portion into his mouth and chews loudly.

“Is she leaving him?” He says, pausing his chewing as the main lead in the movie makes a dramatic exit on screen.

“Felix, I’ve never seen this movie either,” you state, chuckling as he finally resumes his chewing and brushes stray kernels off his shirt.

He reaches into the bucket again, gathering a generous handful of popcorn, and then he sprawls his hand over your mouth, pushing the popcorn into your still-laughing mouth as he moves a little closer to you.

“You argue too much!” He says between giggles, throwing his head back as he watches you try to down the handful, failing as loose kernels find purchase on your shirt, too.

You reach out to shove him playfully, and Felix intertwines his hands with yours, pulling you onto his lap as the bucket of popcorn is promptly set aside and neglected.

He doesn’t even give you time to finish chewing before his lips are on yours, kissing you with such tenderness and warmth. It’s moments like these you find yourself glad he’s here with you, grateful for his unwavering persistence to account for lost time and make amends. Of course you also know he’ll be gone soon, back to university to proceed with his education while you tend to the record shop. And you’re undoubtedly a little sad about it- but you also know it’s the way things have panned out to be. Felix has blossomed into the bright young soul you always knew he was, filling the shoes of a generation of good-natured people that came before him. He’s generous, and unselfish in his ways, and a part of you knows that leaving him was the best thing that could’ve happened to both of you.

Was sleeping with him a mistake after all this time? You would’ve answered yes in a heartbeat, at the first instance it happened, feeling you might accidentally led Felix on and ruined things between the two of you. But the more it happened, the more it affirmed the beautiful notion that he’s just a fleeting part in this process of mending- your souls intertwining to relive memories of simpler times, connecting like they had when you once belonged together. He gives himself to you as a way of saying I’m still here, if you need me. And you give yourself to him to respond I know, and I’m still healing.

“You want your gift?” Felix asks as he pulls away, his hands grazing the small of your back.

“Depends,” you say with a small smile. “If it’s anything like your gift this morning, then yes.”

He chuckles softly, caressing the dimples in your lower back as he sits up and nods in the direction of the kitchen counter.

“I’ll go get it. Be right back.”

And you slide off of him, crossing your hands between your thighs as he exits the room, the soft-spoken dialogue of the movie still playing as he shuffles about in your apartment kitchen. When he returns, his hands are behind his back, a smile plastered on his face and his eyes forming little crescents as he approaches you.

“You have to close your eyes,” he says, kneeling down and sitting cross-legged in front of you. “And put out your hands.”

You oblige with an equally endeared smile, closing your eyes and cupping your hands in front of you. Felix seems to get something situated in front of you, and then you feel him place something small in the palm of your hand. It’s cold to the touch, no bigger than an inch, and he positions it so that it’s centered perfectly in your hand.

“Now open,” Felix finally says, pulling his hands back and folding them in his lap.

You do as you’re told, your eyes fluttering open again and your gaze falling into the palm of your hand. And your heart melts instantly at the sight-

It’s a ring- his ring, the silver fleur de lis one he always catches you staring at.

“I can’t take your ring,” you say, your wide eyes meeting the crescents of his eyes that remain as he grins.

He holds his hand up, flashing you his own fleur de lis, and wiggles his fingers to show it off.

“It’s not mine,” Felix says. “I got you your own.”

And you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes, doing your very best to pull back and avoid crying in front of him. But Felix takes notice at the way your face contorts sadly, scooting closer to you and taking your hands in his.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his face full of concern as you examine the ring.

“Nothing,” you’re quick to respond, sniffling and rotating it between the pads of your fingers. “I just…”

Felix waits for you to answer, giving your hand a little squeeze as you struggle to find your words. He knows that verbalizing your feelings isn’t exactly your forte, giving you time to think over the action and speak when it feels right to you.

“Your ring,” you say with a soft chuckle. “It was a gift from my dad.”

His expression turns serious, holding up his index finger to rotate it around in front of you. “This one?” He inquires.

“Yeah,” you respond with a smile. “The one I gave you before we broke up. I know I’m not the best with my words, but I never got to say thank you. You stayed up with me the night they told us he was nearing the end. And again when my mom left. And somehow you found me in this shitty little town, and I like to think it’s so that I can properly thank you for everything. That’s why I wanted you to have the ring.”

Felix can’t properly reciprocate with a kiss while he’s sat below you like this, but he brings his lips forward to kiss your knee tenderly, staring up at you through innocent eyes and humming against your flesh.

“You were not alone,” he says, pressing another kiss. “You’re never alone. I would do it all over again.”

And you smile down at him, as he takes the ring from the palm of your hand and slides it onto your ring finger, an unspoken promise that he’s always going to be here to help build you up again, regardless of your reservations or your conditions. That just like this town lost itself so many years ago, there’s always a way to build things back up again, you just have to hold onto the hope that it’s possible.

“I love it,” you say, examining the way it sits around your fingers just like his does. And Felix doesn’t answer, pressing more kisses on the pads of your knees and using a hand to part your knees slightly. You take note of the way he keeps his eyes shut as he trails kisses, relishing in the way you give into his actions, laying back to part your knees and observing his eager state.

“Can I take a picture of you?” Felix asks shyly, his eyes darting over your visible crotch as your skirt rides up. You shoot him a little nod in response, gesturing for him to go get his camera, which he wastes no time doing, pulling it out of his black carrier bag and slinging it over his neck. Felix sits cross-legged in front of you again, watching intently as you flip your skirt up and let your fingers graze over your soaking panties. Your new ring glints in the dim glow of the overhead lamp, glistening as you rub your clit over the thin fabric of your underwear and stare into the lens of his camera.

Felix clicks a set of photos, his breath hitching in the back of his throat at the sight of you tugging on your panties and spreading even further for him. You make a big show of staring innocently into his lens, your eyebrows arched in curiosity as you toy with your waistband and tug it down a little further, your hips swaying a little as you struggle to pull it off entirely. And Felix takes note of your struggle, snapping one more photo of your desperate state and slinging the camera back off.

“Let me help you,” he says with an amused smile, placing the camera on the bag beside him and scooting closer to you. His hands loop themselves in the hem of your panties, keeping his gaze locked on your core as he pulls them down, being met instantly with the sweet aroma of your arousal and your glistening folds.

“Fuck,” Felix breathes, swallowing in anticipation at you spread for him.

You let yourself slouch back into the dip of the couch cushion, propping a leg up to give him a better view, and your hands graze over your breasts as you watch him struggle to comprehend the sight.

“Go on,” you order simply, biting your lip as his eyes widen when you knead your breast gently.

And Felix doesn’t spare another second, his hands finding purchase on your inner thighs, as he brings his face forward and licks a long stripe up your folds. His tongue is instantly coated in your arousal when he does, moaning at the taste of you as you writhe in pleasure below him and clamp your knees around his pretty face. He holds them open again, letting his tongue graze over your pulsing clit, before licking another stripe and then latching his lips around your bundle of nerves, pressing a chaste kiss before sucking harshly.

The room fills with your high-pitched moans, gasping for air and clutching desperately onto the fabric of the couch as he works you, alternating between sucking your clit between his teeth and grazing his tongue over your entrance. He darts his tongue into your sopping entrance to gather more of your arousal, spitting harshly onto your cunt and grazing it around your folds using his tongue. And the more you writhe desperately below him, the more his movements become ravenous, working you like a starved animal as he eats you out and pries your legs open.

“Felix,” you groan, reaching a hand out to push his face further into you. “Feels so fucking good.”

He smiles against you, responding with little kisses peppered on your inner thighs, before moving back to your clit and licking in harsh back and forth motions. Your cunt clenches around nothing, desperate for him to fill you, but not wanting him to halt the motion of pleasuring you with his tongue. And as his fingers graze along your thigh to pry you open again, you gasp when he brings the same hand to your clit and rubs vigorously.

Your body is shaking now, trembling with anticipation as you approach your orgasm. But Felix doesn’t stop to gauge your reactions at all- in fact, if you were to cum right now, he’d keep going at this pace regardless. He’s too fixated on the taste of your arousal in his mouth, the melodious moans you let out for him and the way you reach for nothing tangible as he works you.

As your head throws back in pure ecstasy, you feel his fingers move lower, and lower, until he’s grazing your entrance with his knuckles in a teasing motion. And before you can ask him to fuck you with them, he’s already inserting two fingers, increasing the pace of his tongue as he begins to thrust in and out of you. Your cunt contracts eagerly around his fingers, desperate for release now as he matches the rhythm of his tongue with his fingers, the room teeming with the sounds of your squelching pussy. As he pushes deeper into you, you feel his ring- the cold, stiff metal of your now matching rings, graze your entrance, sending a wave of pleasure over your trembling body. His fingers work in and out of you, the cold metal pressing itself on your clit as he bottoms out inside of you and moves his fingertips in quick come hither motions to stimulate you. Your abdomen contracts harshly with every thrust now, your clit throbbing as he traces it with his tongue and peppers it in hot, wet kisses.

“Felix, fuck, I’m- gonna cum for you,” you warn, your voice shaky as he moves even faster, showing no mercy with his movements as he groans against your exposed flush.

“Let go for me,” he commands plainly, his deep voice vibrating against your clit as he holds his tongue there. “Always give me such a fucking show, baby. Make a mess for me.” He speaks between kisses on your glistening folds, alternating between pouting his lips to make out with your cunt and let his tongue wag over your sensitive core.

As you feel his fingers thrust into you one last time, the cold metal of his ring gliding over your folds in its coat of arousal, your abdomen contracts over him, your cunt clenching in syncopation with your fervent moans as you finally let go and dribble your juices all over his freckled face. He wastes no time cleaning you up, lapping at your core to swallow your release and pepper your dampened flesh with tender kisses.

“Stay there,” Felix orders, reaching beside him as your eyes flutter shut in overstimulation. You lie completely listless, your limbs languid and heartbeat pulsing at a now slowing rate throughout your body.

Felix brings his camera up to you again, sitting up on his knees and snapping a photo of your wearied state, his eyes wide with lust as he admires the way your legs hang loosely at your sides. His lens adjusts to capture your parted lips and flushed cheeks, your hands tugging your skirt down again and the smile on your breathless lips when you open your eyes again.

Felix stands up now, approaching you with the camera and letting his slender fingers graze your lips.

“Suck,” he orders, inserting the same two fingers down your throat as his other hand positions the lens in front of you. And you oblige eagerly, your lips wrapping around his digits to suck your own arousal off of him, your tongue swirling around the salty metal of his ring to rid him of your juices.

His photos capture exactly that- your lips wrapped around his knuckles, the kisses you trail down his fingers and the way your tongue licks the perimeter of your matching jewelry clean.

When you’re finished, you release him with a gentle pop, Felix letting his camera hang loosely at his waist again and using his now free hand to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“So beautiful,” he says resolutely, bringing you up for a gentle kiss. “You were always such a good model for me.”

*

When you work an early shift, you make it a point to kick Felix out of your apartment no later than 9, or sometimes 10. You’re not staying the night, you’d explained as a non-negotiable condition, wanting to avoid the awkward antics that come with sleeping alongside each other and waking up in his arms. But tonight, you can’t seem to let go of him, letting his arms wrap you in their warm embrace as he presses kisses to your forehead and tells you stories of college that you weren’t around for.

“It was the worst group I ever had for a project,” Felix says in a chuckle. “I don’t know how I passed that course.”

“You should’ve requested a different group,” you say in a sleepy voice, smiling as you play the humorous tale in your head.

“I did!” He exclaims. “I don’t think the professor liked me enough to let me switch so late in the semester.”

“Well, you got through it,” you reply, letting your hand intertwine with his as your rings rub tenderly against each other. “I can’t say the same.”

Felix chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and letting your hands rest against each other. He thinks for a moment, and then rubs his thumb along your hand lovingly as he begins to speak again.

“I want to take so many photos of you in the spring. There’s this new lens I want to try.”

You pause briefly, opening your eyes to look at him, and then you cock your head slightly before responding.

“You won’t be here for the spring, Felix. You’ll be back at school.”

He swallows nervously, pondering your words, and then he exhales deeply before continuing.

“I don’t think college is for me, either.”

The words hit you like a truck the second they escape his lips- you sit up in bed to look at him, releasing his hand from yours and furrowing your brows together.

“What?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I want to stay here, with you.”

“No, you don’t,” you’re quick to say, shaking your head.

“I do,” Felix admits sheepishly. “Everything makes sense here. Being with you, the town, the people- I think I’m meant to be here, too.”

“No, you’re not,” you say, pulling away from him even further as he sits up now, too. “Felix- this isn’t your life. You need to go back to school, and pick a major and live your life.”

“I don’t want those things,” Felix responds frustratedly. “I want you. I want this town. I don’t care if you don’t want to date, I’ll stay by your side regardless. I can’t just leave you.”

“You can, and you will.”

Felix narrows his eyes, anger quickly overtaking him as his face flushes a dark shade of red.

“So you’re allowed to and I’m just not? Who are you to dictate what I do with my life?”

“This is the life I made for myself,” you reply, exasperated. “It’s not some soul-searching pit stop like it is for you.”

“Maybe it’s not for me, either.”

You’re entirely off the bed now, your hands making angry gestures as you try to verbalize your feelings toward him, Felix’s voice growing increasingly irate as you attempt to.

“You know why I left you in the first place?” You question. “Because I was dragging you down. You had everything- a family, a future and a girlfriend who didn’t quite have things made the way you do. No one even understood why we were together, Felix. I’m not gonna drag you down a second time just because we had sex a couple times.”

“Is that all this is to you?” Felix inquires angrily. “Just sex? It doesn’t seem that way when you’re all over me at Seungmin’s parties calling me your ‘best friend’. That doesn’t sound like just sex to me-”

“You are my best friend,” you interrupt frustratedly, tears falling from your eyes now as you try to make him listen.

“You are my best friend, and I don’t want this life for you. The night I left you, my dad was moved to hospice, and my mom decided she wanted nothing to do with it. I knew you’d be wasting the best years of your life taking care of me, staying by my side like the good person you are, but that it would get in the way of college and your life. It wasn’t easy for me to do, Felix, breaking up with you and getting as far away from you as possible before I could change my mind. But you have a life outside of me, and I need you to go be that person still.”

Felix says nothing in response for several minutes, his eyes welling with tears, too, as you wipe your eyes with your inner wrists and avert his gaze. You hate when Felix sees you cry- it’s embarrassing, and it feels shameful. It feels the way it did when Felix skipped classes to be with you, neglected studying for his exams to hold you as you cried, rain checked his own family to be with yours and dragged you to every house party, so that he could fuck your sadness away in an environment that wasn’t a hospital bathroom or your childhood room.

“How dare you imply the time I spent with you was wasted,” he scoffs, his lip quivering as he wipes his own eyes. “You were my life, outside of all of this. And you still are, and you’re so stubborn in doing that thing where you don’t let yourself feel.”

You watch as Felix gathers his camera, stuffing it back into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“You said you’re somewhere between the fire and the mending. But you don’t talk about the fire. You just shut it out like you do with everything else.”

He pivots on his heel, making his way toward the door and walking with loud, purposeful strides. You begin to say something, quickly swallowing your words again as he reaches for the doorknob and turns it slowly. Felix pauses momentarily, hoping you’ll ask him to stay, apologize, forgive- anything, any sort of indication that this is what you want, too. But as the door opens, your silence is answer enough for him.

“No one could have prevented the fire,” Felix says before leaving, echoing the words you told him so long ago. “You can pick up, and move on, but it still happened. And just because things burned, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to thrive again.”

Without another word from you, he’s disappearing out your front door, his camera bag swaying on his side as he marches out the building and back to his car.

And you feel yourself begin to cry, your heart contracting painfully in your chest, a pit forming in your stomach as you witness him walk out of your life again. The flames burn inside of you all over again, turning organ to ash as you wipe your never-ending tears and slam the door behind him. It’s akin to when your mother left, when your dad passed and when you left Felix the first time. It’s overwhelming, it consumes you whole, your entire figure trembling as you fail to extinguish the flames. The phenomenon begs the question- had the fire ever really stopped? Were you ever in the process of mending if not wailing like this, your vulnerability on display for the world to see as your walls are finally let down? Is this what it means to feel?

*

There are few people in this world who have seen you cry. Your mom, one of them, when you begged her to stay. Your dad, another, when you held his hand through his last breath. Felix, the third, several times throughout your relationship with him.

And the folks in this town- never. Not once have they witnessed you wail the way Felix has, tears brimming your eyes as you fail to keep your emotions at bay, mucus trickling down to your lips in an inelegant manner as you cry, and cry and cry.

“You want some coffee?” Chris asks awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he watches you bury your face in the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

“No.”

“Yena should be here any minute,” he adds, his voice softening as he watches you lift your head to give him a nod.

“Hang in there, kiddo,” Chris finishes, rubbing your back in small circles and giving you a gentle pat.

As you rest your chin in your hands, a pounding headache overtaking your whole being, a knock at the front door catches your attention. It’s Yena, a hood thrown over her head as she balances a tupperware container in her hands and peers through the window. Chris gives her a knowing look, making his way to the door and unlocking it for her.

“Hey,” Yena says softly as she enters, setting down a slice of pie in front of you and taking a seat on the stool beside you. “You okay?”

You sniffle once, shaking your head sorrowfully as she awaits your explanation. But nothing is verbalized yet, and for a good few minutes, all you can do is cry.

Yena wraps you in her loving embrace, letting your tears stain the shoulder of her hoodie, as Chris shrugs from behind you and delivers reassuring pats to your back. They’re just as confused as each other, awaiting a reason or some story, but you can’t bring yourself to vocalize your thoughts, especially when you’re a crying mess like this. Chris finally ushers Yena to say something, and she does, albeit reluctantly.

“You know, just between us, I think he’s a little dorky, anyway. It’s his loss if he can’t see what he’s missing.”

And to their surprise, you chuckle lightly, still wiping tears with the corners of your sweatshirt.

“What?” You question, a soft hiccup escaping your lips as you speak. Yena furrows her brows, together shooting a questioning look to Chris, who shrugs in response.

“Is this… not about Felix?” She queries hesitantly.

“It is,” you emphasize, another giggle escaping your lips. “But it’s not that he’s not interested. We used to date, Yena.”

At this, Yena reaches around to swat Chris’ shoulder, pursing her lips together as she speaks again. “I knew something was up,” she voices, swatting Chris again. “Christopher over here was convinced he was too into you.”

“You guys talked about it?” You add, giggling softly into the sleeve of your sweater.

“It was hard not to,” Yena responded, giving you an empathetic look. “The way you guys light up a room when you’re together, it’s like winter turns to spring or something. I was so certain he was the one.”

At this, more tears escape the corners of your eyes, falling onto the counter below you as you nod slowly in regards to her words.

“I love him,” you finally say, and the room goes silent when you do.

“I love him, and he deserves better than me. Than this,” you finish, gesturing around you to the town. “He wants to drop out of college and stay here. Like that’s a good idea for anyone except me.”

Yena and Chris give each other staggered looks, unsure of what to reply to first. They’ve never heard you speak of your emotions like this, never seen you cry and never would’ve guessed that you would let down your guard to this degree around them. It’s a little frightening, at first, to watch you tear down your own walls so much, like watching a different person than the one they’ve known for all these years. But it’s also reassuring to see that you are capable of letting yourself open up for the right people. It takes a weight off their shoulders to bear witness to the confirmation that they’re the people you can go to when you need help, the same way they don’t hesitate to lean on you. And it especially gives solace to know that you feel so deeply at all, a trait Yena and Chris have always pushed you to familiarize yourself with.

“Well what’s stopping you?” Yena asks, threading her fingers in your hair and combing it back like your mother used to.

“Exactly that,” you respond. “I don’t want to confine him to this life of mine.”

“Let me ask you something,” Yena states, taking your hands in hers and bringing your gaze up to meet hers. “Are you happy?”

And the question throws you off guard, requiring a moment to think before you can say anything in response. It’s a fair question, too- one you should’ve asked yourself when you agreed to move here years ago. But it’s not a difficult one to crack, either, when you take in your surroundings. The diner across the street is packed with patrons, happily sipping away at milkshakes and glass bottles of soda. This old record shop, with its dingy back room and rows of genres you make an effort to learn about whenever you get a chance. The starlings that flock when the train travels through, the holiday parties you find a home in and your favorite spot on the hill, overlooking all of Ember. They’re all working parts of one larger phenomenon- that of happiness.

“Yeah,” you reply, nodding to affirm your answer. “I love it here. And I love you guys, and I’m still healing most days, but I wouldn’t want to be doing it anywhere else.”

A smile grows on Yena’s face as she glances back between you and Chris, and he shoots her a little nod.

“Then do something about it,” she finally says, giving your hands a little squeeze. “The first step is letting yourself feel. The rest is up to you to run with.”

And when you meet her gaze, and Chris’ gaze, their loving expressions looking down at you like you’re one of their own, you can’t help but pull them into a hug, letting yourself cry a little harder at the prospect of your found family, these tears ones of happiness.

“I love you guys,” you voice confidently. “And I’m sorry if I’ve never said it out loud.”

Chris’ hand pats your back, Yena’s combing through your hair tenderly, as they hug you with equal enthusiasm and allow you to cry as long as you need.

“We love you, kid,” Chris answers.

And when you pull away again, the three of you laugh, your tears staining your reddened faces as you bask in this unconditional appreciation for one another.

“Eat your pie,” Yena says, shoving a fork toward you. “And Chris, play some music, will you?”

Chris salutes her, pulling a random record off the shelf and scanning its contents.

“Polish folk?” He questions, and you glance at the familiar cover of the record, the same couple dipping into a bow as they dance in their colorful fabrics.

“This one’s really good,” you chime in, taking a bite of cherry pie as you nod toward the record player. “We should dance to this one.”

And as Chris starts the upbeat music, pulling Yena in for a comedic waltz, you can’t help but laugh through your tears, at the home this town’s given you in all your mending.

*

Felix hasn’t been at the record shop since your fight. He hasn’t been at your apartment, nor the diner, or even Seungmin’s place (and yes, you did ask). There’s only one place you know Felix would flock to after a night like the one you shared, and if you’re lucky, you should still be able to catch him on his supposed last night here.

The grassy hill is a little slippery at this hour, caked mud enwreathing your sneakers as you trudge your way up the hill and into the familiar dip of the land. And as the horizon becomes visible to you, spanning the length of the town and showcasing all the bright lights the nighttime flaunts, so does Felix, sitting with his back to you in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. He looks more casual tonight, less dressed with the intention to look a specific way, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of his slim frame taking in the view you led him to. He leans back on his hands, eyes scanning the sight of the town, before picking up his camera and snapping a series of photos.

When you occupy the spot next to him, he glances over at you briefly, before turning his attention back to the camera and waiting for you to speak.

“It’s prettier at night, isn’t it?,” you finally say, breaking the silence, and Felix fixes his gaze on the blurry lights of the record shop.

“Yeah,” he responds curtly, swallowing nervously as he ponders what to say.

And you know if you let him facilitate this conversation, it’d be over much sooner rather than later, but you also know that it’s up to you to make amends now.

“Your photography is still so beautiful,” you state, gesturing to the camera in his hands. “It’s always been so artistic.”

Felix remains quiet, toying with the strap on his camera as you speak.

“You’re artistic,” you continue. “And that’s why I want you to finish college. Don’t throw all this away for me.”

He turns his face to meet your gaze, his eyes trembling a little as you give him an empathetic look and shrug.

“I don’t want to go where you won’t follow,” Felix says, his voice coming out a little shaky.

“But I’ll always be here,” you retort, tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes again. “Don’t put your life on hold for something that already lives in your past. You are an incredible person, Felix, and I’m not gonna drag you down a second time.”

Felix thinks for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat as he thinks over your words. And he knows that there’s a possibility this isn’t what he wants, either- to stay in this little town with your friends he’s not even sure like him very much. But he does know he wants you, and that staying here would mean sacrificing his old life.

“I want you to know it wasn’t your fault,” Felix says after a brief pause of silence. “Nobody who walked out deserved you. And your dad loved you- a lot. I think about that moment watching the sunrise with you every day. He’s there too, part of that memory tucked away in my mind. I’m sorry it happened so suddenly and disrupted things. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, Felix,” you tell him, chuckling lightly as you respond. “I have a whole family here. I don’t spend my holidays alone, I meet new people working at the shop everyday. There’s so many people I haven’t introduced you to. There are coffee shops, and parades on weekends, and I’m happy. I’m still healing, but I’ve also realized that being healed doesn’t equate my happiness. I can be one without the other, and still get by just fine.”

Felix’s gaze is fixed on yours for a moment, not saying anything as he lets your words circle his mind. And there’s so much he wants to say in response, so many questions about what the future means for you both, but he also knows very well that the rest is up to him to figure out, just the way you did when you moved out here. Maybe you’re still healing- and maybe Felix is still figuring out the rest for himself, too. And though the past may be clouded by a story much more complex than either of you can even begin to comprehend, the happiness you seek is attainable, whether or not you’re together to see it through to the end. That although sometimes things may burn and decay like this town once did, there are people who will make the journey to help in the process of rebuilding, and you can thrive again. You can always thrive again.

“You’re right,” Felix says, as he looks over the horizon again. “It is prettier at night.”

The dim glow of the streetlights contrasts the flashy signs of the diner and the record shop, painting the blackened town with vivid color and bringing life to the small town of Ember.

And with a half smile, Felix pulls you in for a tender kiss, the two of you letting your apologies flow through each other in the gentle embrace of your lips and your hands intertwining atop the grassy hill.

Felix pulls you close, letting your head rest comfortably against his chest, as he caresses your hand softly in the grasp of his. And his index finger rubs lovingly against your ring finger, your matching rings grazing against each other as if to say I’ve always loved you.

*

Small town at the edge of the world. No particular time of day. A blossoming summer.

If you told the average person to shut their eyes and think of their favorite city, they’d probably conjure up a lengthy description about the booming skyscrapers, the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the fancy restaurants and the well-kept people. Point it out on a map, you’d tell them, and their finger would land in the heart of the amorphous blob of whatever state they’ve chosen.

Now move your finger to the right- keep going, and going, and don’t stop until you’re almost off the map entirely. There will be no major indicators, no colorful dots on this area of the map. You might miss it, in fact, if you shoot too far.

That’s the small town of Ember. A town Felix holds very close to his heart. And one you call home.

The cicadas buzz with high-pitched melodies of summer as you slip your sneakers on, the piercing blue sky around you almost too bright to look directly in its face. The clouds seem to shift with the summer breeze, drifting along the canvas sky like a painting in motion as you take in the sight around you

“Let’s go!” Yena calls, honking her horn twice to signify her arrival.

“I’m coming!” You call back, making your way down the stairs of her porch, balancing trays of food in hand as you account for everything you’ve agreed to bring. Drinks, plates, pie, napkins- your signature arrangement for the town’s summer festival you attend alongside Chris and Yena every year.

“Slow down, kiddo,” Chris says with a chuckle, as you rush to place everything in the backseat. “Oh, and there’s a letter for you on the porch table,” he adds, shooting you a small wink.

“I’ll be right back!” you call to Yena, jogging back up the stairs to collect the little beige envelope that rests atop the wooden surface.

It’s addressed to you, the handwriting in neat swirly black cursive letters, the envelope feeling sturdy between your fingers. You tear it open with no real aim, a giant gash working down the envelope as you rush you pull out the contents and examine them.

It’s a stack of photos, you quickly realize, sorting through them to make out the glossy digital prints.

There’s a photo of you in the back of the record shop, your hands brought up to your face and your legs hanging lazily off the table. Another showcases you in the familiar beige interior of the passenger’s seat, laughing cheerfully and staring out the window. There are photos of the town’s horizon, photos of the record player at your work, Yena’s famous pie, Seungmin’s holiday party and even the matching rings, intertwined hands that rest on the car console. As you shuffle to the last photo, you recognize it to be much more recent than the others, even the quality looking clearer, perhaps a new camera or a different roll of film.

It’s a still photo of Felix, from the waist up, holding a peace sign up to the lens with a small smile. He’s dressed brightly in a white vest and layered jewelry, the background showcasing a blue harbor with rows of boats, the location indistinguishable to you. He’s blonde again, his now shorter golden tresses framing the myriad of freckles that scatter his face once more. And he looks happy, much like himself again.

You wonder briefly who took the photo of him, the angle being of very close proximity. And you can’t make out which hand usually houses the ring you both wear, the only hand visible to you covering his ring finger, regardless. You scan the photo for a moment, running your fingertips over his figure, before turning it over and reading the neatly scribbled text on the back:

Sydney, last fall. I think I’m the only photography major who doesn’t drink my coffee without sugar. And you were right, the freckles do suit me better.

All my love,

Felix.

#Lee Felix #lee felix smut #stray kids #skz smut #skz felix #felix yongbok #felix smut #stray kids felix #felix #skz #stray kids hard hours #skz scenarios #request #fanfic #felix fic #Lee Felix fanfic #ask #felix fluff #Spotify

[klausysworld]

Hi, I was wondering if you could write a one shot of klaus x reader. Where reader is apart of Elena’s group of friends but klaus’s mate and she’s made to choose between her friends or klaus and klaus doesn’t think she’ll choose him and tells her it’s ok but she surprised everyone and chooses klaus and betrays Elena for him

You can put as much angst as you want.

Thanks 😊

Forever

A soulmate wasn’t something Klaus had been expecting when he came to Mystic falls to break his curse. And at first the idea was ridiculous to him and he saw it as a weakness.

But there was something about her that pulled him in. Deep down he knew that she was perfect for him, and he would do whatever he had to do that he could be perfect for her too.

Even if it meant not having her.

She wouldn’t choose him, he was sure of it. Not after everything he had done to those she considered family.

Time after time he had blown up her life and every time he could feel her disappointment as she looked from him to her friends, ultimately walking away from him each and every time.

And when it was time for him to leave and go to New Orleans, he didn’t believe it was worth asking her to come with him, he was so certain that she wouldn’t want to at all.

When she found out he was leaving, her heart and soul ached. She loved her friends, she did but she also knew that they would never love her as much as she did them. Elena would always come first, compared to Elena (which she frequently was) she was nothing.

She thought that maybe Klaus would have at least mentioned it to her instead of her finding out from an overjoyed Damon.

See they spoke fairly often, even if neither of them really noticed, whenever they were in the grill minutes would turn into hours. At the ball she had seen a painting of herself which Klaus instantly became embarrassed of and ushered her down the stairs.

She knew that he wanted her, why would he leave her behind? She wasn’t sure until he came to say goodbye.

———————————————————————

“I’m sure you know by now that I’m leaving, I’m going to New Orleans…I uh…I’d ask you to come but I think we both know that wouldn’t happen so um..I wanted to give you some things” he whispered, his brows furrowed as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He was looking anywhere other than her eyes as he handed her a gift bag of sorts. “I wasn’t sure how to give it to you so um…” he let out a breath as she took it from him, her hand brushing his.

He fell quiet as she looked through the things before looking up at him in confusion “keys?”

“To my- your house” he murmured and her lips parted in surprise

“Klaus-“

“I know it’s a little much, you can sell it if you like…you can do whatever you like with it and anything you find inside. I’ve left my number on a card just incase you get a new phone and you ever need me for anything or if…well anything” he mumbled while showing her the card

He looked at her for a moment, she remained in a state of shock as she looked back at him.

Hesitantly he took a step closer to her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. His face nuzzled her hair as he closed his eyes. She returned his hug until a throat clearing drew them both back to where they were.

Klaus moved away from her, a lingering kiss on her forehead before he disappeared from in front of her.

———————————————————————

She hated every second he was gone.

She hated being in the grill and not being able to find him.

She hated that he wouldn’t randomly appear just to ask about her day.

She hated the way her friends spoke about him.

She hated how they blamed him for every little thing.

She hated how they called her crazy when she defended him

She hated how they hated him.

She hated that she loved him.

And not because she didn’t want to love him but because she wasn’t allowed to.

And it took her weeks to realise that the people who were supposed to be her family wouldn’t do this to her if they cared about her.

So after arguing for days, objects thrown and screams aimed at each other, she found herself in New Orleans.

She had knocked but he wasn’t in which should have told her to go away but she instead she managed to get inside and worked out which room was his.

She snooped as most people would and smiled at the array of paintings and sketches of herself. She saddened at the letters he had written to her but never sent.

Her fingers tapped along the edge of the book she had found in his room, not something she would have thought he’d read but still engaging.

Halfway in she heard the door slam downstairs and a range of angry voices before more doors were thrown open and closed. Heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs before he walked in.

His hands rubbed his eyes and pushed his hair back as he sighed. She put the book down and waited patiently for him to notice her in the room with him.

He kept his face in his hands for a moment longer making her frown and get up quietly, she silently pulled his wrists away from his face. His eyes locked on hers in an instant, his expression softening as he blinked in confusion.

“Bad day?” She asked gently and he breathed out a soft laugh as his arms circled her body. She smiled to herself as she pressed her forehead against his with a content sigh.

“What are you doing here?” He whispered though not in any way complaining

“I was hoping I could stay…if you’ll have me”

“Of course I’ll have you, you’ll stay as long as you’ll let me have you” he muttered, his nose just touching hers and their lips barely brushing each others.

“I think I’ll love you forever” she whispered and he felt a grin pill at his lips

“Then you can stay forever, for I will love you always”

And with that, their lips finally met.

#klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaleson imagine #niklaus imagines #rebekah mikaelson #klaus m #klaus michaelson #the vampire diares imagine #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x y/n #kol mikaelson #tvd klaus #niklaus mikaelson #tvd universe #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson yandere #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikaelson x yn #klaus mikealson x reader #tvdu angst #tvdu #tvd fic #tvd fluff

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I’m loving so much the new disowned verse omg, it is so good, you are a genius.

But I’m curious, how did reader and jason met?

The apartment was in a cracker box of a building with thin walls. His neighbors were a young couple that fought about money 25/8 and an elderly 'Nam Vet who liked his porno but- he could cope.

It was different than Gotham. There weren't constant gunshots. And that was weird. But. He knew better than to think his PI license wouldn't make him some money. Even out in the sticks. There was always a contentious divorce. There was always something not quite right. Cops in over their heads.

And he'd have down time. He could read. Work on his bike. Fuck. Maybe even actually go see a movie... Sure. He knew eventually he'd get bored but. For now, he was looking forward to it.

He shut the door and locked it behind him, frowning just slightly and making a note to get a better lock while he was out. He doubted he could find anything super great in town- he'd probably have to order something but. He'd passed a hardware store in town so... it might be worth checking out. If he made friends with the old guy that probably ran it he could probably get some special orders if he needed it.

So he set off that direction, wandering on foot down the sidewalks and taking note of the other houses. It was the middle of the afternoon. And the lunch whistles at the old factory still sounded at nood and then 30 minutes later. Tucked away from the tree-lined main drag, the houses back here varied from run down to better homes and gardens.

That tracked.

They got better closer to the front. The older show homes outweighed the eyesores. American primitive lawn decor. A surprising number of pineapples- and he snorted, wondering if it had come from a big box store or if it was a signal. Or both.

Still.

By the time he made it to the hardware store, he was reasonably certain he could stay busy. All was not as Leave it to Beaver as the Town Council would have you believe. And the first place he was gonna leave a flyer was in the beauty shop. Those old biddies HAD to have some shit to stir up.

He shouldered the door open and a bell, an actual bell, chimed. And he smiled a little taking a deep breath. The smell of dust, tools, and old well-maintained wood hit his nose and he exhaled. Definitely not going to find any high tech locks here. But, he had a soft spot for independent shops.

"Be with you in a minute!"

The voice made him jump. Not the gruff voice of a grumpy old fuck he expected. And it made him search of the source. Curious. "No worries," he said, walking a little farther towards where he'd heard it. Finding a young woman on a ladder stocking some boxes of bolts on a shelf. A pink canvas gardening apron tied around her hips to hold more boxes. "You got door locks?" he asked.

"Aisle 5 next to the paver catalogs," you tell him, steadying yourself so you can turn and glance down at him.

"Perfect," he said, "Thanks."

"Mhm, let me know if you need anything else," you tell him.

Jason paused and looked around, "Think you can put a tool box together for me I just moved and-"

"Ah, yeah. One Bachelor special," you tell him," Jumping down from the ladder, "I think I can get you fixed up. At least enough to get you started. You'll be smashing your thumbs in no time."

"Got a first aid kit too?"

"Right up at the counter," you snort. "But if you want anything special, you gotta see Adam at the Pharmacy. Mine are pretty basic."

"I can deal with basic- at least until you sell me a band saw-"

"Oh lord."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #disowned!verse

[flowersforjude]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A day at the market with you and the kid has Din going over all the reasons he’s falling in love with you.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,253

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | None, just some soft Din. There’s some pining and whatnot.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I’ve jumped on the Pedro Pascal train with the premiere of The Last Of Us and I binged both seasons of The Mandalorian in two days, so expect much more Din Djarin, Joel Miller, and Pedro Pascal content. For those of you who follow me for my Elvis stuff, don’t worry. E is still top on my list and he won’t be going anywhere.

masterlist | read on ao3

He has to keep stopping himself from reaching for your hand. His glove-clad fingers itch to wrap themselves around yours. He wants to feel the warmth from your skin seeping into his through his gloves. He wants to pull your body closer to his so that your shoulders touch as you walk around the market.

You’re talking about something funny the kid did the night before, and he finds himself struggling to pay attention. Not because you're boring him but because the very sound of your voice makes him lose concentration. Your soft lilt is so captivating and hypnotic. It’s like the whole world stills, and the only thing that matters is the ethereal sound of you speaking.

“And then he–oh Din, look at this!” You gasp as you halt in front of a booth selling textiles.

A blue blanket embroidered with green designs along the edges hung in your arms. It looked to be made of some kind of thick material. Sure to keep you warm in the coldness of space.

“It’s perfect for him, don’t you think?” You smile brightly as you lift it up to inspect it properly. Din has to force himself to keep breathing.

Your gaze goes down to the child held in Din’s arms. The creature in question locks eyes on the blanket and immediately reaches for it. He coos up at you as if asking for permission to touch it. You giggle softly and nod to let him know it was alright.

“I think he likes it,” you laugh. “We should get it. He needs a new one anyway.”

He knows this isn’t true. He knows back on the Crest there is a pile of blankets stacked in one of the cubbies under his bunk. He knows that they got there because of situations like this. “He has many blankets already, cyar’ika.”

Din knows you know this as well, but you’re so enamored by the kid that you just can’t help yourself. Din is too, though; that’s why there’s a growing collection of children's things on the Crest. At some point, you guys are going to have to stop spending so many credits on things like this. But the happiness he can see from you and the kid overrides all else.

You huff playfully and fix him with a look he knows will ruin him. “Yeah, but do you know what that means?” You ask. “It means we’re the best parents in the galaxy.”

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips under his helmet. His parents.

You two were not a couple, but you’d been with him almost as long as the child. You had first met on Tatooine. He was there on business and had gone to the cantina in hopes of buying some information he was in need of. Instead, he found you pressed against the back wall by some lifeform you clearly didn’t want the attention of. He came to your aid despite hardly ever doing so before. He blamed the kid for making him go soft. You had thanked him profusely, and he was just going to leave it at that, needing to get back on track. But the surprised gasp leaving your lips at the sight of the child poking his head from the bag made it clear that wasn’t happening.

One thing led to another, and you were watching over him while Din went about his business on the desert planet. When the time came to leave, he shocked you and even himself by asking you to join him. His excuse being he was in need of a full-time babysitter for the kid. In the back of his mind, Din knew this was going to be the start of something troublesome.

That’s how he found himself where he stood now. Sighing as he took the heavy blanket from you. “I’ll buy it. Go look around a bit more; we’re leaving soon.”

You beam up at him and skip off to a nearby booth, the items laid out have your full attention. He’s extremely thankful his helmet hid the love-struck look that possessed his face at the moment.

He glimpsed a pair of brown leather gloves lying on the booth. They looked to be your size. His mind traveled back to a few days ago, when you’d mentioned you could use a new pair. Something about how there was a hole in one of the fingers.

Should he?

He glances down at his son to find him already looking up at him. The baby can read the situation far too well. His gaze on Din is practically dripping with expectations. His little green head turns from his father to the woman he sees as his mother and back again. “Stop it,” Din mutters. He paid the vendor for both items and looked around for where you had bounded off to.

That was something Din had come to love about you. Your endless energy. It was a strong contrast to the tiredness he often felt, but in the time you’d been with him, he felt your spirit rubbing off on him. He also noticed that he smiled more. Before, he didn’t have anything to warrant smiling frequently, but with you by his side, he found he did. You had brightened the light in his life that had already reappeared with the kid.

He found you at a booth that seemed to sell children's toys. You began to enthusiastically wave him over once you found him in the crowd. He shook his head and chuckled as he walked in your direction.

“Find anything else?”

You take a quick glance over the items before turning to him. “No, let’s go home before I spend all my credits on kids toys,” you laugh.

Home. Your home.

He tries and fails to keep the fuzzy warmth from spreading through him. As a Mandalorian, the most important thing to him was family. You and the kid were his family, and his main mission in life now was to protect you both. He’d been so sure that you only saw him as a place to lay your head. Employment, and maybe after all this time, a friend. But here lately, with his feelings growing and you doing things like calling the Crest home, hope started to sprout in him that possibly you felt more.

“What do you have there, little one?”

The sudden question had Din jerking his head downward to the child. Sure enough, your gloves were being waved around in his tiny green hands. You take the gloves from him and look closely at them. Your brows come together as you tilt your head to the side.

“These aren't mine,” you state. “They're way too new looking, and they’re too small for you..”

He remained silent while you spoke, and only once you trailed off did he clear his throat.”Very keen observations, cyar’ika.”

Your face became even more confused at his bad joke.

“Did you get me new gloves, Din?”

“Yeah.” He has to clear his throat once again. “I remember you mentioned you needed new ones.”

He tries to pretend he doesn’t notice his pulse quicken when you look at him like he hung the stars. It’s when you look at him with that that he has to stop the urge to rip his helmet off and kiss you breathless.

“You are the kindest man in the galaxy.” You say softly.

He’s not, but he hopes he’ll be enough for you one day.

I hope you guys enjoy this! I thought something short and sweet would be a good way for me to begin writing for Pedro and his characters. More to come soon!

#pedro pascal #the mandolarian #din djarin #din dijarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #the mandolorian x reader #star wars #star wars imagine #pedro pascal imagine

[aphroditelovesu]

Hey, I hope you're doing well, I really like your fanfics. I don't know if requests are open but could you write another yandere Jeong Gu-won x reader

❝ 👹 — lady l: you made me stop playing The Sims 2 to write this… Thanks for that! It's more of a drabble, that's why it's so short, but I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝warnings: mention of unspecified danger, Reader is described as innocent and unknowingly sold its soul, Jeong Gu-Won confused, and mention of obsessive behavior.

❝👹pairing: slightly yandere!jeong gu-won x gender neutral!reader.

❝word count: 500.

In a place plunged in darkness, where the night was ruled by silence and distant howls, Jeong Gu-Won, a demon known for his coldness and power, roamed the shadows. His eyes burned a deep red, reflecting his evil nature and his indifference towards humanity.

He was looking for another deal, for a human desperate enough to sell his soul to him. He knew he would find it, humans were so vain and easily corrupted, that some were willing to sell their souls for money and others for less.

Pathetic.

That night, he heard the desperate cries of a young human, lost in the darkness and surrounded by unknown dangers. Amid the icy darkness, Jeong Gu-Won found you, your human eyes reflecting fear and helplessness. A simple human in trouble, with no idea of the dark forces lurking around you. The perfect choice for making a simple deal.

But he found himself paralyzed when he looked, really looked, into your eyes.

Your eyes were like wells of purity and naivety, reflecting an uncontaminated glow even in the deepest darkness. They were beautiful, gentle and sweet, so clear that they seemed to reflect the soul itself. In the midst of fear and uncertainty, they maintained a spark of hope, an almost inexplicable serenity. Something pure and sweet screamed and he found himself unable to say what he wanted to say.

Each eyelash seemed to carry its own story, harbored an innocent curiosity about the world around it. Your gaze overflowed with a kindness so pure that it touched those who allowed themselves to be immersed in it. It was a look that sought to understand, that yearned for connection, even in the darkest moments.

Despite the imminent danger and the unknown surrounding you, those innocent eyes remained like beacons of light, radiating an aura that defied the darkness around you. They were eyes that asked for help without having to say anything, eyes that begged for protection, but also conveyed a silent confidence that everything would be fine if there was someone willing to lend a hand.

This mixture of feelings — the hesitation, the curiosity, the empathy — confused him. He didn't know why he couldn't do what was expected of him, make a deal and look for you again in ten years. For the first time in over 200 years, Jeong Gu-Won didn't know what to do.

He couldn't deal with these strange feelings, feelings he hadn't felt since he was human. He needed to do something, to save himself and save you.

So he did what he did best. Jeong Gu-Won offered him a deal: protection, help, in exchange for your soul. And you accepted, not really understanding what you had done, but desperate to be saved. A part of him screamed in protest at you accepting this, but it was too late.

You sold your soul to him. You had become his without knowing it.

You became the beginning of his obsession.

#my demon #yandere my demon #jeong gu-won x reader #jeong guwon x reader #yandere jeong gu-won #yandere jeong guwon #yandere jeong gu-won x reader #yandere jeong guwon x reader #k-dramas #korean dramas #yandere k-dramas #yandere korean dramas #yandere au #sorta of #drabble

[n3ptoonz]

Okay but like the whole save a horse ride a cowboy thing… for Arthur?

'Snake on a Train'

THANKS FOR 300+!!🖤🖤❤️❤️

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/F!Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption II

Warnings/tags: Smut; Explicit, i'm writing this like i'm from the old west bear with me it's really fun, post chapter 6 MEANING he's alive and DOES NOT have TB. never caught it. we live in delusion round these parts. dialogue driven y'all know me i love me some interaction, implied breeding knk, cowgirl, barely proofread writers block is fucking me up

fr tho read this in a southern accent shit is kinda funny i had way too much fun LMAO

i got so many arthur requests then realized i used THIS theme so i'm using this ask i hope those who sent in will find this!!

Word count: 2300

Explicit content under the cut

Never trust a "runaway" O'Driscoll ever again. You was on the run now, away from those freaks and needed a proper escape at least for the time being. Why you chose to not accept Arthur's offer of joining the gang was beyond you. You knew each other well in Blackwater before they had to leave, he suggested you join since you'd be a great addition and trustworthy, but you declined. Later on you were picked up by a "runaway", he sold you out and now you're high tailing it to the nearest escape.

You stumbled across a particularly high end looking train that looked like it was headed west--aka opposite way from this shit. Your initial intent wasn't to rob it, yet. You just needed a quick getaway from this madness. Quick and sneaky you were getting into the back past a few guards. You found an abandoned ticket under a seat and stuffed it in your pocket, walking around until you found an empty cart that looked quite fancy.

You kept your head on a swivel and constantly looked out the window for any suspicious activities when somebody barged in. You quickly stood up and drew your revolver when you realized who you laid your eyes on.

"...Arthur?" you said. His eyes adjusted from the sun reflecting off the window when he heard his name escape from your lips, recognizing your voice almost immediately.

"What are you doin' here?" you both inquired in unison.

"Put your damn gun down I ain't here to rob you." he said sitting down on one of the two seat chairs covered in leather. You slid it back into the holster with curious eyes still on him. Just how long had it been? Why was he here?

"You normally waltz into carts that aren't yours?"

"Ain't that what you did?"

...he had a point.

"Maybe, but I had a reason."

"You sayin' I'd hop onto a nearby train for no reason?"

"I ain't seen or heard from you in almost a decade, Arthur. I don't know what I know anymore. Where's the rest of Blackwater's finest?"

Arthur just leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. There was a deadpan look in his eyes as he recalled everything that went down in the last two weeks. All the betrayals and chaos started to montage in his mind all over again; how he was this close to death, but managed to escape somehow.

"Dead, on their own, or all the above. Remember John? I helped him and his folks get out. The others...well I don't rightly know where they are. And quite frankly I don't care."

You sat in front of him as you processed his words. What's understood don't need to be said, and you knew this well.

"Is that why you're here?" you asked. It felt like a question with an obvious answer but you honestly just wanted a confirmation. It wasn't like him to just run off, at least from when you last seen him.

"In so many words, I guess. Although I didn't expect to see a woman of your caliber running away from your bullshit either. I'd like to know too, if you don't mind."

"Oh hush that up." you waved his comment off dismissively, "I was sold out."

"Well I'll be. You know I always wondered what you were doing or who you decided to hang with if not us. Who in their right mind would sell out one of Blackwater's most wanted?"

In your time together you always had a playful relationship, but you could tell in his tone there was slight bitterness or sarcasm. Truth be told he started to feel some type of way when he realized you declined him just to end up with some other gang that clearly didn't give a damn about you.

"Watch yourself." you warned, your tone half serious half playful.

"What? You didn't want to be around folk who had your best interest that's fine. I won't say I told you so."

"When the hell did you tell me so?"

"The day before we left." he answered without hesitation. "The night we spent together? Ring any bells?"

Damn. You tried to forget that night since the day he had to leave and you too shortly after. You didn't want to remember all the fun you had. You didn't want to remember his hearty laugh at your stupid jokes. Hell...you didn't even want to remember just how good he treated you. He treated you like a lady, unlike most of the men you came across. All it took was one heated kiss, and you both were hooked. But also knew it couldn't be given both your circumstances.

When he offered for you to join you wanted to jump at the opportunity. So why didn't you? Because, well, you loved the man. You thought your own feelings would hinder the morale of the group somehow and break it apart, and you wouldn't dare that be on you. Plus you couldn't really tell where he stood. He's a guy who treated most people with respect despite how he grew up.

Back then he mentioned how people like them were hard to come by and that most gangs were either just downright pieces of shit or cultish. So he in fact did tell you so, and you tried to forget that as soon as possible. Didn't want any sort of thoughts of him clouding your mind or else you'd go crazy.

The only reason you two didn't get intimate that night is because he respected you and your boundaries. He still does. He didn't want it to feel like he was grasping on to the nearest thing to fuck with and then dip. That's not the kind of man he was nor will he ever be.

"What does that night have to do with why I'm here now?" you tried so hard to seem like it didn't completely take over your thoughts, but this is Arthur Morgan for christ sake. He's damn good at reading people.

"It can mean just about anything, sweetheart, but I know it meant something to you just as much as it did to me." he said. The tone of his voice sounded a bit like he was trying to convince himself that was the case. If it wasn't, he wouldn't know what to do.

You sat back in your seat but that didn't take away the feeling of his gaze pouring into your soul. "It did." you said looking down at your hands

"Then why decline? Was it me? I know it's not my lifestyle because we lived the same way."

"I didn't want to get in the way, alright? I knew you'd be gone often and would be out for days at a time while I worried if you'd come back in one piece. I've been there and done that. Wasn't doing that again."

Arthur leaned back up in his seat and ran his hand over his face, sighing. He didn't want to come off so strong, but he felt real feelings for you and didn't know how to process it properly. The woman who's been on his mind since the day the gang left Blackwater sat in front of him and he felt like a lost puppy all over again.

"Okay." he said softly, "Was I on your mind at all?" he continued looking down, mumbling under his breath but you still heard him.

"Everyday since." you said standing up. He slowly looked up at you with those pearly blues that never failed to capture you. He was just so relieved that it wasn't just him. That it wasn't one-sided. Grabbing his hand you pulled him up to meet your eyes--like he wasn't visibly looking down at you.

"I thought about you so damn much I guess I had to distract myself by running with some undercover O'Driscolls. I figured out who they was too late and voila, lawmen breaking down my door."

Arthur shortly chuckled upon hearing you explain more of your situation. To him it was unbelievable, and he never thought he'd hear that name ever again especially after seeing Colm swing.

"This evening is full of surprises. How do I know this isn't some big scheme to take me down once and for all?" he said while wrapping his arms snug around your waist and his voice grew more rugged and deep. Oh how he missed this. What this is, who knows, and who cares?

"I don't need some big scheme to take you down." you said placing your hands on his biceps, squeezing just a little bit. He smirked at this action and pulled you closer.

"That so?"

You hummed in agreement, and it didn't take long for you two to finally lock lips together after a bit of playful murmuring here and there. And just like that, you both were taken back to that night. That heated kiss you shared was the absolute highlight of your lives, and you intended to relive that again and more.

It's like you never left but kissed like it's been forever. He ran his cold palm up your back to hold you while the other unbuttoned your pants. Even after almost ten years, he didn't miss a beat. He still got it. Are we surprised? You followed his lead and kept one arm around his neck while the other attempted to pull him free.

His hands were quick and nimble like yours, so next thing you know your pants are on the ground and you're sitting comfortably in his lap. You was now clad in a loose collar shirt and underwear and his shirt remained unbuttoned at the collar. Your mouths never stopped dancing throughout this whole process too.

Arthur just kept groaning into your mouth at every subtle grind on his thigh. This was only the second time of you two getting together like this, yet it feels way more than that. That same drunk feeling from the night made its return and wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

You pulled back so you both could catch your breath, holding his face and running your thumbs over his stubble that was soon to becoming a full beard.

"I missed you...so damn much." you said in a tone just above a whisper.

"I can't imagine more than I have..." he replied while toying with the hem of your underwear. "Would you give this old outlaw the honor of... having you? All to myself?" he asked, looking deep into your eyes. You could feel him fully hard and his hands trembling a bit, but he still wants to hear it from you. One part is confirmation, but the other? He would easily gain satisfaction from knowing you want to give yourself to him.

"Well...I've saved a horse...and I plan on riding a cowboy," you whispered and smiled against his lips before leaning back in. Arthur chuckled into the kiss, wasting zero time pulling them panties to the side and slide right on in.

Your breath hitched as you eased on down his thick shaft. "That's my girl." he whispered, right next to your ear so he could physically feel you clench against him from his praises. You gripped his shoulders as your eyes closed shut, expelling light whimpers here and there as you set a place. He placed his hand on your back once again to encourage you, feeling a little smug at your struggle to keep up.

Best believe you weren't no bitch though; you swallowed thickly and kept on riding him. The ambience of the train was quickly fading as you two became lost in your own desire.

Were you expecting your orgasm to approach so quickly? Honestly, it made sense. Arthur knew all the right things to say and touched all the right places that churn your butter.

He was also nearing the end, and yet he had such a genuine smile on his face. He grunted with every time you sank back down into his lap and this meant he simply could not be happier. He's been dreaming of this moment forever, and finally. Finally, the woman of his dreams is having the time of her life because of him.

To keep yourself grounded you pulled his head up to rest your forehead on his, "Please, cum inside me," you begged. Your climax was seconds away from hitting you and you wanted to reach bliss at the same time.

You ain't have to tell him even once with how quickly he followed suit. Your hips slammed right back down into his lap as you both tried to stifle your cries of pleasure, still mindful of other passengers.

After you both calmed down in each other's arms, you cleaned yourselves up and plopped back down onto the two person couch you had just gotten intimate on. You held his bicep and laid your head on his shoulder with a content smile on your face. His the very same.

"You sure know how to get down for someone I ain't seen in a long time." he said playfully, looking down at you.

"Who said I ain't got none in a long time?" you replied a little too fast for his liking, looking up and seeing his expression comedically fall to a straight one. "I'm just messing, I wouldn't dare risk having anybody else's kids but yours." you continued casually before shutting your eyes. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the sound of his heart rate getting faster through his chest.

He chuckled, looking out the window at the scenery become painted with the pinks and yellows of the sunset passing by.

"You are something else."

#n3ptoonz #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption arthur #rdr2 smut #smut

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 7: Stray Kids bias wrecker - Jisung✨️

The Heat

AN: We have reached the end of my milestone celebration! Thank you to all of you, new and old, for your support. You have no idea how much it all means to me <3 Time to end this celebration off with my other other arch nemesis lol.

Synopsis: When your roommate brings home a bag of strange cookies, you two don't think much of it. Assuming whoever sold them to him was lying about them containing an aphrodisiac. You both quickly come to realise that you were very, very incorrect.

Heads up: Han Jisung x Fem! Reader, Roommates AU, dub-con elements (because Reader and Jisung are under the influence of an aphrodisiac, but they do genuinely want each other), mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, nipple play (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little, Jisung cums pretty quickly, mentions of multiple orgasms, unrealistic sex (Jisung cums more than once and remains hard), hypersensitivity, some usage of a petname for Reader and a barely there praise kink (f. receiving).

Word count: 3658

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

"You'll never guess what I found!" Your roommate yells, all but slamming the front door open in his excitement.

"Hello to you too, Jisung," you respond dryly but, your curiosity is piqued. Angling yourself to get a better view of the brown paper bag in his grasp from your position on the couch.

"Sorry, hi. I'm just really hyped," he responds sheepishly, plopping down beside you, "but look!"

You're not sure what you were expecting, but a bag filled with cookies certainly wasn't it. "Uh, they look good?" You offer, not really understanding what makes these cookies in particular so special. The little pink hearts on them are very cute, you'll give them that much.

"No, no listen. These aren't just any old cookies. Minho and I stumbled across this kind of weird looking bakery, and the lady who runs it said these cookies are mixed with some really potent aphrodisiacs,"

Yeah, this is not how you anticipated your Saturday to unfold at all.

"So... you bought them from an apparently really shady bakery and just trusted what that lady said?"

Your words take a few seconds to register in his mind. Big eyes blinking at you owlishly. If he hadn't just admitted to something so stupid, you'd reach over to squish his cheeks because of how endearing he looks right now.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

It takes a great deal of effort on your part not to drag your hand down your face.

"Minho should really stop enabling all of your impulsive purchases and ideas,"

"To be fair, he was the one who dragged me into the bakery. I just happened to stumble across these," he says, motioning to the bag now staring at the two of you on your coffee table.

"My point still stands. Why did you buy so many anyway? Why not just get a few if you just wanted to test them out?"

"They were running a special," he mutters.

"I didn't realise you were this naive. I have some magic beans to sell you if you're interested," you tease, grinning as the tips of his ears redden.

"Ha ha ha. Very funny. They weren't that pricey anyway so, luckily I didn't spend much," he reaches for the bag, fishing out a cookie.

"Woah hey, what're you doing?"

"Eating the cookies I bought? Like you said, I'm sure they're a scam, so I might as well eat them since I spent money on them," he responds with a shrug. Your anxiety building watching him take his first bite.

"Oh, they're pretty good, actually. Want one?" He asks, turning his big brown eyes onto you. Now, how are you supposed to say no when he looks at you with those eyes?

"If these are poisoned or something, I swear I'm going to haunt you," you respond, and your roommate takes that as a green light.

"We'll both be ghosts then. I don't think ghosts can haunt each other," he says with a laugh, the brushes of his fingers against yours feeling like electricity as he hands you a cookie.

You choose to essentially shove the cookie in your mouth to avoid dealing with that particular can of worms. Jisung was right. They are delicious. Flavours of strawberry with faint hints of chocolate caressing your taste buds. Maybe they were worth turning into a ghost for if the worst comes to pass, you think.

"See? They're good, right?"

"Yeah, I can't even lie. That's one of the best cookies I've ever had. If we survive this, you should show this oddball bakery to me,"

"Oh," and you immediately regret admitting to him that you actually liked it, "how the tables have turned. What was that you were saying earlier about reckless purchases?"

Rolling your eyes, you stand up in order to get ready for bed. Jisung's smugness more than enough motivation to finally get your ass off the couch.

"Goodnight Jisung," you say, waving him off.

"Goodnight," you don't even need to turn around to see the smirk stretched across his face. You can hear it clear as day.

Everything feels like it's on fire when you wake up the following morning.

You're absolutely drenched in sweat and your throat is beyond dry. Perhaps the oddest realisation of all is that you're wet. As in, obscenely so. Your thighs are smeared in it and you're almost certain it's leaked all the way onto your bedsheets.

What the hell?

It takes you some very long minutes to blink your bleary eyes open. Your muddled mind working a mile a minute to try and make sense of all of this. Last night hadn't been that hot so, there should be no reason why you're this sweaty. Plus, from what you can remember at the very least, you hadn't touched yourself before turning in for the night. So why in the world are you this wet? And more than that, why does it hurt so much more than usual?

'What is going on?' Is that question that echoes through your skull as you join the world of the conscious. You're due for a shower and a change of sheets, you think. You feel pretty disgusting at the moment, and a shower might just be what you need to help calm you down. An ice cold one.

On perhaps the strangest morning you've experienced to date, you don't expect to bump into a shirtless Jisung with a towel wrapped around his slim waist.

You've seen your roommate without a shirt more times than you can count at this point. However, it's never made you feel like this before.

The throbbing gets worse. So, so much worse. Warmth flooding your face when you feel yourself gush onto the fresh pair of sleeping shorts you'd just changed into. Jisung is an attractive man. A very, very attractive man. You've had no qualms with admitting that in the most private parts of your mind and on nights when images of him between your thighs are the only thoughts that can push you off of the proverbial edge.

But it's never been like this.

"Morning," he says gruffly. God, that just made it worse. If you weren't too lost in your own spiral, you'd notice his blown out pupils and the glassy quality to his eyes. How they shamelessly rake over your body. How he has to adjust his hold on his towel so you don't notice how hard he is. How hard he's been for what feels like hours now.

"Morning," you squeak back in response once your higher order functions return to you. Practically slamming the bathroom door in his face and, sagging against it once you're alone.

What is wrong with you?

Taking a shower was minimally successful. At least you're no longer drenched in various body fluids, but you still feel as though there's molten lava coursing through your veins. Everything is just so hot.

Touching yourself while you were in there didn't help either. If anything, it only added fuel to the inferno that seems hell bent on swallowing you whole from the inside out. Maybe you're just in desperate need of a good fuck. It has been longer than you care to admit since you last slept with someone. That Changbin guy was nice and ridiculously attractive. Perhaps you should give him a call.

You're disrupted from your thoughts when you hear a tentative knock at your bedroom door. Jisung. Oh no, you're not sure if you can handle looking at him right now, let alone being in the same room with him. Your mind has been replaying the encounter from this morning over and over again. Even that hadn't helped you cum in a satisfactory way. Which is insane because thinking about him works 11 times out of 10. You must really need to be fucked.

However, you're not a child. You're not going to avoid your roommate and your friend just because you're a little (okay, maybe it's more than a little) more sexually frustrated than usual. You're more mature than that.

"Come in," you say, cringing at the hoarseness in your voice.

To your relief (and mild disappointment), Jisung has a shirt on. Though, the way the tank top leaves his broad shoulders and biceps completely uncovered isn't helping the to soothe the squirming of your insides.

Jisung looks exactly how you feel: like a total wreck. His hair is in dissary and sticking to his damp forehead and his cheeks are flushed with an appealing dust of pink. You wonder if this is what he'd look like underneath you.

"What's up?" You croak, looking at your bedroom door as though it's the most interesting object you've ever seen. He may have a shirt on, but you're not sure you can handle looking at him for too long right now. For both of your sakes.

"Does it feel hot as fuck for you today too? I don't know what's been going on, but I already took two showers today, and I still feel like I might pass out from heat stroke," he says, making himself comfortable on your bed. While not out of the oddinary, having him so close to you is sending your barely coherent mind into panic. The desire to straddle his incredibly welcoming looking lap clawing at your insides.

"Yeah, it does feel a lot hotter than usual today. Maybe there's a ventilation issue or something in our place? Because I checked the weather and it the temperature for the day is on the cooler side, funnily enough," you respond, wiping some excess sweat off of your forehead. So, you're not the only one who seems to feel...off, weird even today. Whatever is happening appears to be affecting Jisung too.

"Really? That's so weird. I thought maybe there was a heat wave or something. I don't know how much more of this I can take," he sighs, throwing himself down. The bottom of his tank top exposing a sliver of his toned abdomen. Fuck.

Before your mind can assault you with fantasies of covering his abs in your wetness, that's when it hits you. Those damn cookies. They have to be the reason you're like this and that you suspect Jisung is experiencing something very similar.

"Jisung, I think I know why we're feeling so hot right now," you rush out, fingers absentmindedly toying with your blanket.

"Really? Well, I'm all ears," he responds, turning to give you all of his attention.

Fuck, how did you not realise it sooner? Jisung's eyes are almost black with how dilated his pupils are. Desire flashing like a neon sign on his face.

You really can't afford to soak through another pair of shorts right now. Focus.

"I think the cookies - I think the cookies weren't a scam," you mutter, hugging your legs to your chest. Your face is so warm that you're surprised the heat from it isn't radiating off of you.

He just keeps looking at you. You know the moment your words sink in because his face quickly shifts from a pretty, pink flush to an almost scarlet red. His mouth opening and closing as he grapples with what to even say to you.

"What? What makes you think that?" It's his turn to squeak and avoid your gaze. Seemingly fascinated with your ceiling.

"What else could it be? We both had them yesterday, and now we're sweating buckets and -" You cut yourself off. Jisung doesn't need to know you've been wet all day. You should probably keep that part to yourself.

However, the universe is determined to make you suffer, "And what?" He asks, meeting your eyes briefly before turning away. His teeth toying with his bottom lip.

"It-It's fine. Don't worry about it, but, um just trust me. I really think those cookies are the reason we're like this," You stutter out, studiously ignoring the lecherous thoughts creeping back into your mind.

Jisung doesn't say anything at first. Just laying there before sitting up once more, his hand ruffling his hair, "I wasn't kidding when I said I don't know much of this I can take. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

That you can relate to. Intimately.

"The solution is pretty obvious," you joke in an attempt to lighten the thick tension in the air. It almost makes it difficult to even breathe properly.

Your words have the opposite effect, however. Startled, fiery brown eyes meeting your own. Jisung looks like he's seriously considering it, and you're not sure whether your stomach knots itself in hope or anxiety.

"Jisung, I was-"

"Do you want to?"

Now it's your turn to stare at him in stunned silence. Probably looking like an absolute buffoon gaping at him. Is he joking? Is this his way of getting back at you?

"Wha-What?" Comes your brilliant response.

"Do you want to?" He repeats, both looking and sounding deathly serious.

"You don't have to do this, you know. If you don't want to. We can j-"

"I want to," he interrupts again, his cheeks darkening, but he doesn't falter in his words.

Your very hot, very kind, very funny roommate is offering himself on a silver platter. Even if you weren't so wet you could die, you'd be an idiot to say no.

"Okay," you whisper, meeting his eyes head on. Your heart thundering against your chest as you watch him shift closer to you. Barely any space left between the two of you. You're not sure who moves first, and it ultimately doesn't matter because after months of fantasising about it, Jisung's mouth is finally on yours.

Maybe it's the cookies, but your first kiss isn't gentle or slow or sweet. It's fierce and messy and desperate from the very beginning. Your hands not sure where they want to settle themselves. Alternating between pulling on his hair, pulling the most delicious whimpers from him or steadying yourself on his muscular shoulders while you two fall deeper into each other.

The gasp that leaves your mouth when Jisung nestles himself between your thighs is loud and throaty. He's hard. So hard and so hot that you can feel the heat radiating from him even through your respective clothing. Jisung wastes no time in covering your throat and jaw in sloppy, uncoordinated kisses while he shallowly grinds his erection against you. Greedily searching for any semblance of relief he can possibly find.

"Ji-Jisung," you moan, arching into his touch when one of his hands gives your breast an experimental squeeze. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he groans against your neck between licks and nips, thumbing at your already hard nipple through your shirt.

"Re-Really?" You manage to ask through the fog. "Really," he responds, impatiently shoving your shirt up and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. To say you were unprepared for the sensation of being enveloped in his wet, warm mouth would be putting it lightly. You're so much more sensitive than usual. It might be the cookies, or it might just be Jisung. Probably a dangerous mixture of the two.

You've never cum just from having your breasts played with but, there's a first time for everything if the increasing wetness staining your shorts and inner thighs is any indication. Jisung, for his part, is content to spend hours with your tits in his face and in his mouth. Licking, sucking and fondling to his heart's content while he desperately humps your thigh. The dream, really.

He's about to whine when you tug him off of you, but he's shut up by your tongue being shoved down his throat. Your hands frantically pushing his tank top up and off of him until his bare torso is free for you to explore. Smiling into him when he whimpers at the way your nails rake across his skin. A pitchy 'fuck' greeting your ears when you accidentally brush one of his nipples. Oh. Interesting.

Kissing and touching him is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Jisung is fantastic with his mouth, and his firm chest is incredibly fun to explore. Figuring out which places garner you groans or whimpers or whines. Which ones make him grind into harder. Which leads to the other hand. You're so soaked and painfully empty, and kissing him isn't helping to soothe any of those flames.

"Jisung," you mutter against his mouth, your hands ghosting over the waistband of his sweats. Delighting in the way he shudders above you and his abdominal muscles jump under your barely there touches.

"Ye-Yeah?"

"I want you to fuck me, please," you whine into his ear, lightly biting down on his lobe, "it hurts."

Jisung exhales a very long sigh against your throat, "You're going to kill me."

A breathless laugh bubbles out of you when he pulls away to shove his sweats down. Any trace of humour vanishes quickly when his cock smacks against his toned stomach. He's so hard that it looks painful, flushed an angry shade of red, and glistening with pre-cum. You can't help but stare. Your walls clamping down harshly around nothing.

"I thought you wanted to get fucked?" He asks with an arrogant grin on his stupidly handsome face.

"Shut up," you respond, lifting your hips and letting your shorts join the heap of clothing on your bedroom floor. It's your turn to feel a little smug when Jisung's eyes zero in on your pussy. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life, and you're too far gone to have any semblance of self-consciousness or embarrassment.

Jisung returns to his position between your thighs before you can fire out any quips, his cock nudging your entrance causing your head to spin and a soft moan to slip from you. "Stop teasing," you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to his broad back.

"So-Sorry," is all the warning you receive before he very gradually starts sinking into you. god, it's never felt like this. Ever. With anyone else. Tears accumulate in your eyes, and a few roll down your face with every inch he pushes into you.

"Are you okay?" He asks lowly, kissing your cheek repeatedly and halting his movements.

"Yeah. Yes, Ji, I'm fine. Please don't stop," you practically moan, clawing into his back when he mumbles a curse and continues.

You can barely think, let alone breathe when he's fully sheathed inside of you. His cock pulsing inside of you violently and Jisung quivering above you, hushed moans of your name and whimpers being pressed into your shoulder. A whine hitting your ears when you squirm a little and tighten your hold around his waist.

"Wait, fuck. Wait, don't move," he moans, his hands grounding himself with his hold on your pillowy thighs. You struggle to comprehend his words. Everything is so muddled and overwhelming, and he just feels so fucking good, and he hasn't even moved yet.

At first, you assume Jisung's increase in sounds of pleasure and throbbing inside of you is just because he's as overwhelmed as you are. Every single nerve feeling like it's engulfed in flames. However, when his strained apologies register, you realise he came. Hot spurts of his cum flooding your eager pussy and open-mouthed kisses being pressed into your shoulder between apologies.

"Ji-Jisung,"

"I'm fuck I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to. It just happened. Fuck you must think I'm so pathetic-"

"Jisung, stop. It-It's okay. That was really hot actually," you mutter, and you mean it. If anything, you're flattered that you managed to make him cum so fast.

"What? Really?" He asks, blinking down at him. His pretty eyes beyond fucked out and sweat dotting his face. God, he's so pretty. Your pussy clenching involuntarily.

"Yea- Wait, are you still hard?" You ask, only realising now that he's still nestled deeply inside of you despite the cum that's gradually starting to dribble out of you.

He looks as shocked as you. Seemingly not realising that his own cock hadn't softened in the slightest. "Holy shit," he breathes, thrusting into you experimentally, drawing a whimper and your nails biting into his back in reaction.

"Remind me to go back to that bakery," he utters into your throat. Giving you little time to adjust before picking up his pace considerably. Between your wetness and his cum, he fucks into you easily. Your combined noises of pleasure echoing throughout your bedroom while you two lose yourselves in one another.

You've been teetering on the edge for what feels like ages. All it takes is for Jisung to find your sweet spot for your eyes to roll into the back of your head and your back to arch into him. Your lovely, lovely roommate fucking you through it all and exploiting your newly discovered weakness.

"That's it, baby," he groans into your ear, his hands holding you firmly in place and making you take each and every thrust he gives you, "You're taking me so well. You're doing so good."

Those words are going to be replaying in your mind for the rest of your life.

Your mind is utterly blank as the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced wreaks your body. Your thighs shaking violently, and your hands holding onto Jisung for dear life while you tighten around him. Fuck. Fuck. You're so full, and it's so much, but not enough at the same time.

"More, please. Jisung, please. I want more," you cry out, not caring in the slightest about the pathetic, desperate edge to your voice. All you're capable of thinking about is cumming on his cock over and over again and, him filling you with his cum until it's still leaking out of you days later.

"I've got you, baby," he whispers, the pet name he's grown a fondness for causing butterflies to arise in your stomach.

"We're far from being finished."

#han jisung smut #jisung smut #stray kids smut #han smut #1k followers celebration day 7 #1k followers celebration #1k followers milestone

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Twisted Wonderland x FemReader | Maid Milker

“No. No way! I’m not selling myself just so you can get more thirsty perverts bothering me!”

Since it had recently been discovered that you were the only female in a college meant for boys you could hardly breathe without someone openly creeping on you. First it was just students staring longingly, before it started becoming confessions, and then open stalking. There was even an official fan club that made a point to broadcast every single part of your life private or not. There was no filter. So of course when one of the few people who you had an established friendship (kinda) asked you to exploit just that.

“Awwww, shrimpy! Don’t you wanna work with me? We’d have so much fun!”

He leaned his head on yours letting more of his weight weigh on you as you struggled to keep up right.

“I’d love to but not in a maid dress! Do you know how bad those things can be for girls like me?”

“What could possibly be stopping you other than the overwhelming support of your club?” Jade interjected slyly picking at the fact that you had a literal fan base that would praise you for simply walking.

“Not. My. Club. And panty shots.”

“Easy fix. We can invest in some shorts.” Azul, confident he pushed his glasses up and shrugged; you grimaced.

“I’d have to shave.”

“Stockings.”

“Those get hair?” Floyd directed at his brother who tilted his head. “Apparently.”

“Ugh harassment.”

“Do you even have to ask? Jade and Floyd.”

“Ugh. What about...my dignity!” You hated that this was you picking at straws here.

“The whole lounge will be on the same rules as you and what's wrong with a student earning some much needed cash. If people think it’s so funny you’re working so hard it’d behoove them to help out of pity.”

“Hmmm...” you brought your index and thumb to your chin in hopes that it could come up with some other reason why this wouldn’t work. Finding that you couldn’t find one you saw no problem agreeing as long as you cleared some things up.

“I get paid and I keep all my tips?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone I ask to be removed for behavior will be removed?”

“Of course.”

“...and I get to keep the costume.”

“...”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“Well...”

“Azul!”

“Okay okay. It’s yours.”

“Thank you, well then I’ll gladly be in your service.”

______________________________________________________________

"I'm surprised you let that go, Azul." The eel-mer spoke without looking up from the modal he was counting, sporting his typical smile.

"Patience, Jade. We don't need golden eggs when we have the goose." Azul reassured writing in his ledger with a confident tone.

"What goose?" Floyd was leaned over the couch behind Azul.

"Its a land expression, you should have covered that in literature already."

"We did but someone wasn't in the mood to listen for the whole of it."

"He~he."

The octo-mer didn't look up from what he was writing but he did stop to speak seriously to the eel.

"If we want this plan to work though you'll need to be in the mood to listen...can you do that at least."

"He~he I'm always in the mood when Shrimpy's involved!"

______________________________________________________________

“Haha, I can’t belie-haha-you agreed to this!” 

Ace was having a field-day, as you expected but you had thrown out your embarrassment and were going to proudly wear your themed maid outfit in purple and black. 

“Shut up Ace! Before I spit in your drink!” 

You whispered the last bit as Jade strongly asked that you refrain from giving any fluid of yours without having paid for the service specifically. Feeling satisfied as Ace held his hands up in submission you looked at Deuce who looked at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth as he looked at your outfit.

“Got something to say, Deuce?”

You mockingly taunted him in case he thought about hopping on the bully-(Y/n) bandwagon.  He continued to flutter before he finally gathered himself looking down then up at you.

“I-uh, like your stockings.” He gulped, diverting his attention for awhile before returning to its latest focus. You immediately perked, balancing the trey to let your hand slide past the fluff of your dress to pull at the fabric.

“Like it? I was originally going to go with tights that went up all the way-“ you let go causing the strap to slap against the plush of your thigh, adding emphasis to your statement. “But I decided these jock-straps were too cute to pass up.” 

You dismiss yourself walking back to the kitchen as Deuce blushes full force as he replays the whole interaction in his mind. Not just your words but the prideful look in your eye as you snapped the strap against your thigh, leaving the Heartslabyul student reeling with his imagination. Just across from him, Ace too was replaying the view of you walking away. It was just too easy. 

“Hate to watch you go but love to watch you leave.”

He had to come here every night. 

“Oh, here’s your underwater mocha and your sweet oyster tart.”

Riddle couldn’t help looking, it was what everyone was here to do anyway. But that was why he came: to make sure everyone was doing just that. So why was it so much worse for him when that was all he could do.

“A-and you're sure this is consensual?”

“Yeah, no worries. Besides, the modal I’m getting for this will have me and Grim eating happily for days!”

“If foods what your worried about, I’d gladly put some on your plate.” 

The baker spoke smoothly talking in that calming voice everyone relaxed at totally masking the true intention.

“I appreciate that Trey but with your sweets I’d definitely pack on a few and I don’t need that.” You joked, oblivious to the green and orange eyes flickering to your stomach and thighs before flashing such charming smiles.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind that at all (Y/n).”

“I agree, (Y/n). You’d look stunning, even if you racked on a hundred more.”

“Aw gee thanks guys!”

You couldn’t deny you felt an intensity when they spoke your name but you couldn’t focus on whatever heat they might have spurred especially when you were being called to serve your next order. 

“Oh sorry guys, I have to go now. Enjoy your drinks and treats.”

You scurried off only for Riddle to make an interesting discovery. “For only 2,000 madol you can have your waiter hand feed you? I-it’s better that we check and make sure this er-practice is healthy or not, yes?”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” “Count me in, boss.”

“You have some nerve accepting business from the fish.” Leona spoke in his gruff voice immediately having you reel back to his table. In the booth he sat on the cushion by himself with the other being shared by Jack and Ruggie. You nervously laughed as you waited for Ruggie to finally speak after eying you up and down.

“And how much would you be willing to do this for?”

You laughed at him, thinking he was joking when his sky blues were staring unwavering right back at you. Recovering you thought for a moment.

“I guess it would be a lot, not including whatever liberties I’ll even allow. But it’s not like anyone would pay for me to actually do something like this.”

You nervously chuckled only for the knowing smirks spread on Leona and Ruggie's face as you once again realized this was no joke. With a cough from the forgotten guest you looked at Jack who seemed to fidget as he blushed.

“While I don’t think you're anywhere near the level being a maid, you still look...very pretty.”

“Aww thank you Jack!” You struck a pose with a heart before walking off to attend your duties leaving Ruggie to relentlessly be smacked by the wagging of Jack’s tail not seeming to mind as he dazed off to watch you work.

“Oh manifique mademoiselle trickster you’ve rendered me a slave to your beauty and I’m floored to witness you in such a state!” As dramatic and as loud as Rook could be he never failed to make you blush at his compliments as you tried to take the tables order down.

Vil looked off to the side, eying an occupied twin at the bar before turning to look up at you. Smoothly he twirled his fingers around the lace of your maid dress lightly brushing against the now exposed skin of your thigh. 

“I didn’t realize you liked to play dress-up (Y/n)...” you blubbered trying to find another topic as his light playing turned into suggestive pulling before you bashfully pushed down your dress. 

“Next time you do we’ll have a private fashion show (Y/n), that way you can really learn how to play your role...properly.”

Regrettably Epel never properly spoke to you; he was too interested in the way the apron and dress hugged your body.  Making certain to burn it into his memory for an apple carving later for at least he’d be allowed to lick that version of you. 

“(Y/n)!!”

Shouting as if he hadn’t just sat with you in science class, he launches himself at you immediately causing you to spill a drink you were carrying for another table. Eventually breaking from his hug, thanks to Jamil he begins to apologize.

“Aw I’m so sorry (Y/n)! I’ll pay for it and I’ll take you to eat here.”

He seems so happy and with a smile like that you struggled with what to say, thankfully Jamil had that covered he pulled out a hanky he kept on hand.

“Can’t you see Kalim, she’s working right now. And you ruined her appearance.”

“I did? How? You look perfect to me.”

“Aww thanks Kalim.”

Distracted by his musings you almost missed how Jamil kneeled down to rub at the sugary residue on your thighs. Gulping down a blush he tried his best to clean, even though it made no progress at all and he knew that. 

“Heheeh Jamil that tickles! I appreciate the help but no worries. In fact I’ll get you two seated right away.”

You guided the two to an empty booth completely unaware of the sorrowful face Kalim was pulling as Jamil pocketed the handkerchief. With a playful flick of his tongue Jamil hurried ahead as Kalim caught up.

Idia was hardly keeping it together seeing you run around taking orders from customers and running around with food on a tray had fueled the fantasy of the cliche maid cafe. He was practically already dying from the sheer amount of noise and extroverts that had gathered here but he most certainly was revived in some strange way to see you in your maid uniform. He refused to bring Ortho with him as this was his special mission on high difficulty and he didn't want Ortho tainted by your succubus charm, of course not because you might be discovered by yet another love rival. When you finally did run up to him a delicious sheen of sweat coated your arms and your forehead wonderfully accompanied but the sticky residue a drink must have made on your thighs-oh seven your thighs it sent him into another frenzy as he was barely able to recite his order. 

“Oh, you want the ocean blue smoothie?”

He nodded.

“With the lip mark and a quarter drunk?”

He nodded again.

You looked at him for a bit before shrugging. ‘Everyone at some point must want to feel less lonely.’

So in front of him in the most secluded booth there was you bringing his drink and reapplied your matching lipstick before happily indulging in India’s drink. He didn’t realize you’d do it in front of him! But he wasn’t complaining, all the more grateful for his hidden body-cam as he watched your throat bob drinking his drink. He left happily holding the to-go cup that had your lip marks on it. He was going to...cherish the trophy for a successful mission.

Lilia traversed through enough of the internet to know about the anime-maid-obsession. He won’t lie, for awhile he too was intrigued before moving on but seeing you pad around in such a cute replica reignited it for him. 

“It’s a shame you aren’t in-character that way you would have had to do what your master said!”

“Hehe, well than Master Lilia, here's your Pearl Gray iced tea.”

The joking you did with him made the old fae quite excited but he could handle himself until he got back to his dorm. Yes he could wait till he was in his lonesome. He could wait until then to imagine how helpless you’d be under him as he rearranged your guts on the dining table for mocking your master. So all he did was giggle and wink because he was grown. And that’s just what grown fae do. Wait until later to enact his desires.

Malleus didn’t understand why you were wearing such attire and he didn’t appreciate the way it made everyone ogle you like you were free for the taking. It upset him but anger was quelled when from his position he could smell you so clearly and the tightness of your uniform made it all the more appealing to watch. He was angry but when you happily flashed the cuff links he gifted you his anger subsided...kind of. If you were willing to show this much to the general populace than surely you’d have something far more intimate to show him. With that he indulged in his beverage excusing the involuntary flip of your skirt as moved to serve your guests.

Silver did see you in the maid outfit, if only briefly before getting comfortable enough to snooze again. But being awoken to a soft but forceful hold on your head does something. Grasping the crown of his head, nails barely grazing his scalp was a feeling he hadn’t expected to invoke such a reaction out of him. He did moan but thankfully it seemed normal enough that you didn’t question it when he sat upright.

“I’m glad I caught you, that would have been an awful waste of madol. Now Sebek, did you want anything?”

Oh he did want something, to chew you out over your wild attempts to flaunt yourself for all these men and for failing to properly woo his master. But that was before you reached past him to stop Silver from falling in his sleep into his drink. You successfully caught the human, completely oblivious to the half fae you inadvertently shoved your chest into. He’s probably suffocating but is he going to stop you while you right his fellow guard from falling? No! Especially not when you smell so good-and this--this is a part of his training! Yes! To be able to withstand the wiles of a human female for the sake of his master. Right! But it seems he’s failed this time as he won’t be able to properly utter a sentence until he’s forgotten the softness he nearly suffocated in.

“Uh-uhm-uh-er-“

“I’ll just get you some water, hun.”

______________________________________________________________

Finally draping yourself over the couches armrest you let out an exasperated sigh. On your feet all day, running around playing maid for everyone in the Monstro Lounge was beyond exhausting. You were glad it was the end. You walked into the office where Azul seemed to have finished organizing his contracts. Sitting in a nearby chair and on the floor respectively was Jade and Floyd. They smiled at you as your tiredness showed nodding at them before leaning playfully into Azul. Breath tickling his ear you asked.

“Now can I have my pay? My hour’s up.” You yawned, leaning your head onto his shoulder as his face bloomed a concerning shade of red.

“I-it’s l-late isn’t it? Don’t you want to stay the night.?” 

You yawned again. “No why?”

Jade slid in behind you letting you lean back on him as he swayed you through the door and near a storage area. 

“We can all see it, we've worked you dry, (Y/n). So take this time to sleep and I’ll take you back in the morning.”

Floyd appeared tossing a Monstro lounge t-shirt that was way too many sizes big for you. Looking at their sharp smiles you relented, excusing yourself to change before returning and happily passing out on whoever’s bed they guided you to. 

In the meantime the three stood menacingly over your abandoned maid outfit. Jade pulled out a checklist and Azul got his wand ready. 

“Now who is on the top priority list for a copy.”

“Not including us, Malleus Draconia, Idia Shroud, and oddly enough Neige Leblanche.” 

“Alright then."

“Let’s get started then.”

#twisted wonderland x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #disney twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere floyd x reader #floyd twisted wonderland #floyd leech #lilia #leona #riddle #azul #jade leech #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade leech #twst #twst azul #twst floyd #twst ace #yandere ace trappola #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader

[multific]

King’s Landing Market

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You just wanted to go to the market, you never expected to get hurt.

When Aemond kicked the door open, everyone inside jumped, including you.

The healer just finished putting a bandage onto your finger.

"Leave us!" Aemond barked as everyone quickly left. 

He was quiet, the room felt extremely cold, but it could be just his stare.

You knew he was waiting for an explanation. 

"I went to the market. I had guards with me, they wanted to take my jewelry when the guards were distracted. When the guards realized what was happening, they panicked. They snatched my ring, but by doing so they broke my finger." you showed Aemond your wrapped up pinky.

"You shouldn't have been there in the first place."

"I told you I wished to go and see the merchants. I told you I would go even if you disagree."

"And you got hurt as a result."

"It is only a finger."

"You should have disguised yourself better. Or you should have listened and didn't go in the first place."

"I heard the market holds a special event. People from all over the world would come to sell. I wished to see it. But I got robbed even before I could get to the first one." you pouted as you looked at your hands.

"I hope you learned from it." Aemond said before he turned and left the room.

---

The next day, once again, you were getting ready. 

"And where are you going?" Aemond's voice startled you.

"To the market."

"Did you learn nothing?!"

"Two thieves are not going to derail me from my goal. I wish to purchase goods! I wish to see what they have to offer. I heard they have special silks and treats."

"You cannot go."

"I will go Aemond, you could either come with me or stay here. But I am going."

You said as you quickly put your bag around you. You looked at him, not moving.

"I know you are worried. Come with me then, it would be a good time." you offered a small smile to him, hoping it would help him.

And it did. 

"I shall go with you then."

---

Walking around with Aemond wasn't exactly how you imagined it when yesterday you suggested the idea to him.

You hoped it would be a romantic day, but it turned into Aemond looming over you like a guard dog, scaring people with his hood up and eyepatch.

You tried to ignore him and walked in between the merchants.

Something caught your eye.

A lovely pair of earrings.

"My Lady! Your taste is amazing, those are made out of real sapphire." you held the earrings in your hands, you really did like them.

"How much for them?"

"They are only two golds, My Lady." you dug into your pocket and fished out two golds and handed them to the merchant who smiled at you.

You put the earrings away before moving to a new shop.

You noticed glass jars with what looked like candles in them.

"My Lady, good day. Would you be interested? These are candles."

"Never seen something like this."

"They are scented."

"Oh? How so?"

"My lovely wife's idea. You light it and it gives the room a lovely smell. Here, try it, this one smells of lavender." Aemond observing everyone around you.

"I am not too fond of lavenders I'm afraid."

"No problem, how about a more fruity scent? Perhaps strawberry?" you nodded and the merchant handed you a jar.

"This smells really lovely. So sweet. Your wife is wonderful."

"Thank you, My Lady." the man now looked at Aemond. "Would your husband like to smell?" he tried to hand Aemond a jar but Aemond only turned. 

"I'm afraid as long as you don't sell weapon-scented ones, he wouldn't be so interested." you giggled it made the merchant laugh as Aemond just rolled his eyes. "I would like to buy one of the strawberry, the vanilla and what is this?"

"It is mint."

"One of that as well please." 

"Of course, just do not put them next to curtains, please blow them out if you head to bed. Wouldn't want your house to be burnt down."

"Of course." you handed him the money before taking the items. "I should have bought a basket." you smiled at Aemond before heading towards the food items.

"Do you plan on buying everything?" his voice came out harsher than he intended.

"Possibly. It is your money after all." you looked serious. Perhaps way too serious for Aemond to say if you were joking or not. But of course you were. "No need to be so harsh Aemond." you smiled at him as he watched you walk to yet another merchant.

Aemond would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't happy to spend the day with you. 

He loved it very much, that whenever you found something, let that be a dress or fabric or jewellery, your eyes started to shine so beautifully. 

But he knew he had to be vigilant. He would not let anything like yesterday happen again. Every time he caught a glimpse of the wrap on your finger, he was reminded of that. 

But he also noticed just how kind and sweet you were when you talked with the people.

A lady just sold you some chocolate-covered nuts. 

"Try one." you said offering one to Aemond, he thought you would hand it to him, but no, you raised your fingers to his lips and he would take it like that. Aemond wasn't one for sweets, but this, he truly did enjoy. Maybe it was because they came from you. He wasn't sure. "Do you like it?" you asked so sweetly.

"Hm." his reply was simple, but you were used to it. You grabbed his hand, feeling bolder as you pulled him with you.

---

After dinner, you were back in your chamber, getting ready for bed, you brushed your hair.

You smiled as you softly hummed a tune.

What an amazing day you had.

Even if you and Aemond didn't marry out of love, you two still found companionship within each other.

You smiled as Aemond entered the room.

The soft scent of vanilla hit his nose as he noticed the candle lit by your side.

You soon finished with your hair as you blew out the candle and headed to bed.

Aemond was already in bed by the time you joined him.

You laid on your side, extending your hand and placed it on his chest.

"I had fun today." you whispered to him. "Wish we could do it more often. I really enjoyed my time with you, Husband."

Aemond's fingers soon found your wraps as he let out a sigh as he felt you flinch a little when he touched your hurt pinky.

"I should have been there. This wouldn't have happened."

"I'm just said I lost the ring. I quite liked that one you know."

"I will have hundreds more made."

"No need. At least the necklace you gave me is not gone. I like that one much more." you closed your eyes, ready to sleep when you heard him speak up.

"I enjoyed today quite as well, Wife." you hummed as he pulled your hand to his lips. He turned to face you, watching you as you drifted off to sleep.

"I can't sleep if you stare at me." you whispered, giggling a little before opening your eyes and meeting his. You moved close to him, placing your head under his chin, and wrapping your arms around him.

You let out one last sigh before falling off to sleep.

Aemond soon followed.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen i #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond imagine #aemond imagines #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x wife reader #aemond x fem!reader #House of the dragon #House of the dragon x reader #House of the dragon imagine #House of the dragon imagines #House of the dragon story #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones au #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines

[kanmom51]

JK Radio Stationhead 1 October 2023

And a little more as well...

cr./and huge thanks to the translation accounts I used in this post.

I think this was the most interesting Stationhead we've had so far with JK. JK was chatty, informative (well, to an extent), I would maybe even say combative? Maybe that's a little too strong a term to use, but I do think he came to show that he is unbothered by the shitstorm going on and clap back just a little bit. And he knows about that shitstorm, make no mistake.

I see Jikookers falling for this hateful campaign against JK. Not only are they perpetuating it, but they are also adding to it, embellishing it, and spreading it.

By now JK has had several girlfriends named, he's a baby daddy (she was pregnant in Feb, so...), he's going on double dates with his mate Tae, trucking (censorship issues had me change that - you know exactly what it's meant to be) her with the windows and curtains open for all to see (after telling us he's aware he's being followed around including home). All this he managed to get done before he sat down and did hours on end of JM dedicated lives, calling him his fan, flirting with him online while in bed for all of us to see, and going on a 4 day private trip with him.

A very wise blogger once said: (@ourwinterspring, hope you don't mind me quoting your wise words):

Rumors are created by haters accepted by fools and spread by idiots

That. Just that!!!

People that called themselves Jikook supporters (I'm not talking about shippers, they are in this for their own self gratification, while supporters are supposed to be looking out for JM and JK and supporting them both individually and their relationship, which btw is still considered tabooed in their own country), they are rushing to conclusions, and aiding in the spread of these lies.

K-army laughed them off.

Chinese army are fighting them off.

And I army are just spreading them like wildfire.

Why this long winded introduction?

Because Jikook are in an impossible position really. They are a closeted queer couple in a country and industry that would not accept their relationship if it would become publicly known. As long as the door is open for deniability they are ok. Taking that step through that door and out of the closet, that is one hell of a step with many consequences, to them and to those who surround them.

JK is about to release his 1st solo album, and he's in the midst of trying to infiltrate the American and Western music market. To do so they are selling a very certain image, and being queer is not part of it.

They are also both before enlistment to the military.

Them going: "hey bitches, the stories are untrue, we're in a long term loving relationship", is not a realistic expectation. And no matter what JK would say otherwise, the rumours they are just gonna keep coming, cause this train, this coordinated smear attack, it's not finished. And if and when that would be done, we'd be back to Yubi and Rose and Lisa (oh, oops, she's with Freddie), and Miju. Ehm, she's married. But wait, since when has that stopped anyone, eh? It didn't stop the Nicole stories, which, btw, are still rampant, including among some Jikookers (?) - what the actual truck is wrong with people???

So, no Jikook announcement.

A company one? Kind of feel that one won't come either. Again, JK 3D promotions and upcoming album in mind. Not to mention, and this my friends is me being super cynical right now, other than the harassment claims, the company doesn't have a problem with these rumours, given it solidifies his bad boy, truckboy, heterosexual image they are selling right now. There, I said it.

But Jikook, JM and JK, they aren't happy with this. They can't be happy with this. As much as this image is a price to pay, on the way JK is sending us constant hints that it ain't all that you see. That he's a complex being. That he might appear one way in 3D, but another in Seven and another in his CK and Vogue photoshoots (the latter with him being the artistic designer and bringing along some outfits and/or accessories that he wanted himself), not to mention someone else all together in his long lives with us. He tells us this is him. Who we see. But those that only see that image in 3D are just not looking at the full picture he's painting.

This is him:

But also this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

They are all pieces of the puzzle that is one Mr. Jeon Jungkook. And I'm sure there are pieces we have yet to see.

It's funny that JK is singing 3D (basically having phone sex and wishing for more) but at the same time he's telling us "this is me in 3D". Not one dimensional. A complex grown up human being.

Btw, I kind of feel like I need to link this post again, seeing that so many are still thinking that having muscles, tattoos and piercings makes you heterosexual or at least bi. Cause, I mean, you must be sexually attracted to women if you are super masculine, and get tattoos or pierce your body, right?

Oh boy, this is a long one. I haven't even started with Stationhead, lol.

So, JK is trying to show us he's a complex human being. This is him. Not one MV or song he chose to sing. The full picture. The shoots he chooses, the concepts for his songs (do I have to remind of his Seven concept shoot?), his lives, what he shared with us (as in past tense cause Idk how much more he will with everything that's going on).

And in the midst of this, knowing you are in a committed relationship, having your integrity, your good name smeared, being with the person you love and knowing that the world not only doesn't see how dear you are to each other but also thinks you're being sexually intimate with multiple others. Not to mention, having to deal at this young age with the knowledge that there are people out there that hate you enough to want to hurt you on such a level, to ruin your good name, your career. It can be paralyzing. And they put on a brave face. JK says he knows people hate him and good for them, he'll continue to live his life. But it's hard, it's hurtful, and these two, they are the kindest sweetest people out there, they don't deserve this.

OMG, when will I finally get to the point?

I think about now would be a good time.

So, no speaking up. No announcement. But at the same time they don't want to just sit there and take it.

Phew, here we go?

JK came today, 1st October (or more so 1st Jimtober) to Stationhead after his 3D dance practice video landed (same day).

And by some strange coincidence (no coincidence at all), JM released his second #ThisisJimin dance clip to Dominic Fike's Phone Numbers with these lyrics, coincidentally:

Woah, Kenny! Why you not here with me? Can you break bread with me? Why you switch phone numbers like clothes? Why you can't answer me? (Yeah) 'Cause I got more coming

(Not a love song)

Using a prop. Wait for it...

Oh, and the outfits that happen to be kind of similar and sticking to the black and white.

I feel like I'm repeating myself here, but you know, sometimes you need to in order to hammer the message in.

And JK, well he also posted a selfie on Weverse (while on Stationhead).

1st Jimtober with his fave Jack Skellington.

So yeah. The little things. Those little codes that say "we are here, we are ok, all is well, this will definitely not break us."

Yes. I get all of that from those little things, lol.

But, it didn't end with that.

And here we are.

Finally at the precipice.

Well, not precipice per say. That's being a little dramatic. But I am finally going to get to JK on Stationhead, as in what we got from him during the show.

I guess with this long introduction I should start with the Jikook related, right?

Let's start with JK repeating the endearment JM used in his IG post for 3D.

And then JK basically confirmed that he and JM were together when drawing the cloud whale drawing JM shared with us on IG telling us JK drew it.

Making sure we know that they drew the whale together.

You don't have to understand Korean to hear the amusement in his voice. We don't know when this was taken (CT or perhaps more recently... although my initial thought was CT I'm kind of leaning to it being more recent, like very recent), but we know they were together. We thought so and now JK confirmed it.

Enjoyed confirming it.

He also brought up JM's birthday being this month. Yes, he could be reacting to comments, but we've discussed this multiple times in the past. You know. Choices. And in this case, his choice which ones to answer, right?

Once again, it's all in the way it's all being said. The "I know something you don't" tone of voice. The "a-ha, yeah, Uhah" while supposedly looking up if he's doing something on the day. The "I'm going to be busy...I see I have a schedule..?" ending with a question mark? As in "do I really?" Lol.

The way he was talking, the man has something planned. I really don't want to have any expectations here. But man, he's making it hard for me not to have them. Lmao.

And another JM related comment he chooses to answer:

This time you don't get the sassiness or teasing in his voice like we did with the JM birthday answer. Idk why they aren't doing each other's challenges. It's for them to know. We know JK was showing/teaching JM Seven moves. We know that JK knew SMF pt. 2 moves. I guess it's something they just decided between them. Or perhaps schedules didn't and aren't aligning. Who knows. And who knows, we might just get a surprise. Next phone song JM does could be 3D, lol.

Ok, so he saw his parents. He goes on to also talk about his mother's cooking (oh, that man is so in trouble with his mom calling her cooking bland, lmao). Kind of gathering from it all that JK was in Busan for the holiday. Could that photo JM shared, you know, the one JK made sure we know they both drew the whale on, have been taken when they were both down in Busan for the holiday? I wonder...

This here is, I feel, JK clapping back a little at the haters. But also telling us, once again, that he's an adult and does adult things. Knows how to work hard when needed, and when to "play hard", as in relax and have a good time, when allowed.

This one isn't about Jikook (well in a sense maybe it is, as it's about shooting down TKKs hopes and prayers, lol). JK clarifying Tae's story about him recording a song at JK's place and JK directing him.

So, no pre-planning, JK's reply "and I was like "suddenly"? And also letting us know Tae didn't record the final at his place. Burn, lol. Also answers (again - like in the Inkigayo live) a question about karaoke with Tae. More or less same answer. More or less "that's a no"?

And this I already shared with you guys:

This is basically JK. Again, when he says I'm showing you my true self. It's not the image of the hunky guy with the sexy expressions doing that sexy choreography with the female dancers hands on him. Well not only. It's the shy introvert that feels awkward when these women are touching him. And just to be clear here. This isn't me saying anything about his sexuality. But it's definitley me saying he is not this careless truckboy people are so badly wanting him to be. Being an adult and having sex (let's call it rex from now on), a lot of it, enjoying it, doesn't make it the core of who you are as a person, doesn't mean you are having rex with multiple people for the only pursual of physical gratification nor does it mean that the rex you are having is necessarily with a female even if you are singing a song saying girl in it, to which the lyrics were not written by yourself. JK also sang a song about having rex 7 days a week, but with that one person, in his words, wanting to be all the time with "the love of my life". See, that was a little slip of the tongue by him, lol. But very revealing. Thank you ever so much for that one JK.

Do you understand the difference here?

One being lyrics to a song he's performing, him being a singer. Lyrics he didn't write himself.

The other is his explanation, his take on the meaning of the song he is singing (also not written by him). Inserting that little very personal touch.

Do we get it? JK isn't the lyrics, the lyrics aren't JK.

Oh, and by the by, JK's lyrics aren't referencing multiple partners. If we are being all about "but he's singing it, so it must be who he is". The multiple partners, the truckboy image, that's Jack Harlow's bit. JK is still talking to one person.

But again, I stress, the song doesn't represent JK as a person or his character. And those that are making that leap are simply...

Moving on.

JK's asked which he prefers more? 7 or 3D. Very diplomatically makes sure we know that at the time he liked Seven and now it's leaning more towards 3D. Well duh, this is him promoting it. Then he combines the two to 7D.

"What's your favourite part of 3D?" Him asking the listeners.

JK talked about eating chicken, being busy practicing all the time (I am curious to know what for), finishing up and going home to workout, shower and sleep.

He also talked about GCF and his appreciation for Army.

Asked about music or variety show, and the answer is probably not, it's hard for him (this is where the shy introvert part of him wins, I guess). It's easier to be alone on a stage in front of thousands performing than have to interact one on one with people that you aren't as familiar or comfortable with. On stage you go after much practice. Small talk and interviews and socializing means having to be focused (neuro divergent prince here) and it's so so hard for a shy introvert to deal with. Key word ALONE.

Although he's asked about further plans he's adamant not to give spoilers (well, more so afraid he'll be told off by the company, lol).

He misses the old days I guess. Of Kakao Fancafe. The intimacy of it. The safety of it perhaps.

He also wants to cook for army.

I feel like him telling us he is pulling back on the lives, allowing for the mystery, well he's also missing those lives. He needs that connection with his fans. Maybe even more so with this path he's going down, disconnecting from the idol and becoming the mega star. He needs that emotional connection with his fans. But at the same time, a more intimate setting, where he can really connect with them, is something he prefers.

And again, the connection with Army.

About the members:

F u c k , this is getting way too long. I can't talk about it all. I will add a couple more things and leave it at that. My apologies.

So, this is another clap back from JK:

Oh, and this was curious.

Ooh, one last thing.

He finally tells us where he got the scar on his shoulder from. Well, not too glamorous, lol. He slipped and fell while running in the car park shooting the CK ad. Hurt his finger as well, but that has healed already by now.

JK ending with:

Funny how the little things just added up. All very little perhaps inconsequential actions as of themselves, but add them together and you get a message.

One you will see if only you wish to.

Oh, and end comment. This is utterly disgusting and childish and I'm at a total loss for words here.

We have 2 more of these coming, if I'm not mistaken. Will be interesting to see what we get next.

#Jungkook #JK #JK 3D #JK stationhead #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jimin #JM

[lostcauses-noregrets]

By Rafael Motamayor, New York Times, Nov. 5, 2023

On Saturday, the final episode of the anime adaptation of Hajime Isayama’s “Attack on Titan” premiered on Crunchyroll and Hulu, ending an epic tale that started back in 2013.

Like the manga, which ran from 2009 to 2021, the anime was an instant hit, becoming one of the defining shows of the modern anime era, with spinoffs, live-action and video game adaptations, and even a comic book crossover with Marvel’s “Spider-Man” and “Avengers” titles.

Since the fourth and final season started airing in 2020, “Attack on Titan” has been one of the most popular shows on the internet — episodes have routinely trended on social media, streaming servers have occasionally crashed, the opening theme song became a rare anime song to hit the U.S. Billboard charts. Parrot Analytics said it was the most “in-demand” show in the world in 2021, a metric based on analysis of streaming, social media, search and other online behaviors. The manga has continued to be popular as well, selling over 120 million copies worldwide, and several of the published volumes have charted on the New York Times graphic novels and manga best-seller list.

What started as a thrilling yet relatively simple tale of a young boy seeking revenge against the giant humanoid monsters that ate his mother quickly evolved into a thought-provoking war epic. The tonal shift in “Attack on Titan” also came with one of the biggest heel-turns in modern anime, with the protagonist, Eren Jaeger, devolving into a radicalized monster threatening worldwide genocide.

Since the manga ended in 2021, there has been plenty of speculation and debate over Eren’s antagonistic turn and what the story’s ending means. Ahead of the release of the final episode, the manga creator Hajime Isayama, speaking through an interpreter, David Higbee, talks about the restrictive nature of writing and the story’s dark ending. These are edited excerpts from the interview.

The manga ended a couple of years ago, and the anime is just finishing now. How do you feel about the story coming to an end?

For this anime to be made and for that to go beyond the borders of Japan and to reach a worldwide audience is something that’s been a very happy occurrence for me. In a sense, “Attack on Titan” has connected me to the world, and that’s something that I’m very glad happened.

How much of the ending from the manga did you have in mind when you first began writing “Attack on Titan”? And how much did it change along the way?

That was pretty much there from the beginning, the story that starts with the victim who then goes through this story and becomes the aggressor. That is something I had in mind right from the get-go. Along the way, certain aspects of the story didn’t go as expected, and I adapted and fleshed out certain aspects. But I would say the ending of the story didn’t change much

There’s a much-talked-about scene where Armin, who is struggling with Eren’s turn into a mass murderer, seems to thank him for his actions. Can you talk about the meaning behind that conversation?

My thinking there wasn’t really that Armin was trying to push Eren away for the sake of justice or whatnot. It was more that he wanted to, in a sense, take joint responsibility. He wanted to become an accomplice. In order to become an accomplice, Armin had to make sure that he used very strong wording so that he could take those sins upon himself. And so that was the intent behind it.

You have a scene where Eren apologizes to a kid for the carnage he’s going to commit and says he was disappointed in the world he saw beyond the walls. What does that say about his motivation?

I think that refers to the fact that Eren was dreaming of going to this world outside of the walls where there was nobody and there was nothing. There was an excitement about this world that was just empty, a clean slate. I don’t really know whether that’s a good or a bad thing, and I don’t really know why that was the ideal that I set up for Eren as a part of this story. But what I can say is that, when he does get across the wall at that point, he says he sees that the world is really not that different from what’s within the walls in the world that he already knows. I believe that’s probably the disappointment that I’m referring to in that specific scene.

Eren says in the final episode of the anime that he had no choice but to follow the future that he saw, that he was powerless against the powers of the Founding Titan. Armin even asks if he’s really free. Was he telling the truth or do you see this as him telling an excuse?

So the truth is the situation with Eren actually overlaps in a certain sense with my own story with this manga. When I first started this series, I was worried that it would probably be canceled. It was a work that no one knew about. But I had already started the story with the ending in mind. And the story ended up being read and watched by an incredible number of people, and it led to me being given a huge power that I didn’t quite feel comfortable with.

It would have been nice if I could have changed the ending. Writing manga is supposed to be freeing. But if I was completely free, then I should have been able to change the ending. I could have changed it and said I wanted to go in a different direction. But the fact is that I was tied down to what I had originally envisioned when I was young. And so, manga became a very restrictive art form for me, similar to how the massive powers that Eren acquired ended up restricting him.

You have been involved in the anime production for a little while, supervising the adaptation’s storyboards, and have been known for asking for changes to the story in the adaptation. Did you personally ask for anything for the final episode?

Yes. Absolutely. I checked the script, but the main thing was the storyboards. There were different things I suggested. When it comes down to it, it’s really the role of the production to make those decisions. But I wanted to at least give my input so that they could take those into account when they were making the final decisions.

The manga ends with you showing the future of Paradis and sort of the cycle of war continuing. Is there no end to the conflict and the cycle you present in the story?

I guess there could have been an ending where it was a happy ending and the war ended and everything was fine and dandy. I guess that could have been possible. At the same time, the end of fighting and the end of contention itself kind of seems hokey. It kind of seems like it’s not even believable. It’s just not plausible in the world we’re living in right now. And so, sadly, I had to give up on that kind of happy ending.

[New York Times, 5 November 2023]

#hajime isayama #this is really interesting #the analogy between himself and eren is fascinating #interview #new york times #snk

[hawkinsbnbg]

‪Steve was such an embodiment of a golden retriever that Eddie could hardly hate him even when his Munson Doctrine said otherwise.‬

‪Once Eddie got to know him better, he knew he was done for.‬

‪The guy wasn't only a pretty face and fine muscles, he was also kind and a goddamn sweetheart.‬

‪And Eddie? He was a sucker for Steve Harrington. ‬

‪Had been since high school and never thought he could fall any deeper until Dustin literally force introduced him to Steve who took one look at him and invited him to his house.‬

‪As if they were good friends and not two strangers who had just talked to each other for the first time.‬

‪"We actually talked once before all of this," said Steve absentmindedly as they were chilling out on the lounge chairs by the pool.

‪Sometimes, the night breeze would sail past them and Eddie would be able to smell Steve's citrus cologne mix with the chlorine that came from the pool. ‬

‪Also, he'd never admit that the sight of Steve in that white snug T and those stupid tiny green shorts made him a little bit dizzy.‬

‪"When?" Eddie was bewildered. Because if he had interacted with Steve, then he sure as hell he'd remember it for the rest of his life.‬

‪"On my first year," Steve gave him a meaningful look. "You seemed to hate me a lot the moment we met so I didn't try to approach you anymore."

‪Eddie remembered it now. That day, Steve had come to buy from him but since he didn't sell to underages, he decided to scare the younger boy away and then forgot all about it once he returned to his trailer.

‪Turned out, his tactic worked a little bit too well and now, Eddie finally understood why Steve never came to him and it was always Tommy or Carol's brother instead.‬

‪"Thanks for that anyway," said Steve quietly.‬

‪"For what?" Eddie frowned slightly in confusion.‬

‪"For denying me the weeds," Steve gave him a warm smile. "I had been goaded to buy them from you but now thinking back, I'm glad that I didn't get them. Because I knew the moment I went back with a bag of weeds, those people would encourage me to buy drugs next. It'd go on until they got me addicted and my life would be much more different if I was sent into rehab by my father."‬

‪Though Eddie knew this was what he hoped his little conscience would do to those teenagers, he still didn't expect Steve Harrington of all people to thank him for it.‬

‪And he didn't expect his heart to leap into Steve's hand without his consent, either.‬

‪"It's nothing," Eddie cleared his throat slightly and picked up his beer bottle so he'd have something to do instead of flailing his hands around like an idiot. "It's just one of my rules that I don't sell to underages."‬

‪"And thanks to you, many guys like me can have a better life," Steve raised his beer into the air. "Cheers for Eddie Munson."‬

‪Eddie though blushed at the lovely smile Steve sent him, still held up his bottle and clinked it with Steve's.‬

‪After that night, they started hanging out together more often. Sometimes, it'd be at Steve's place, and some other times, it'd be in Eddie's bedroom at the Munson trailer.

‪Steve even chatted with Wayne about basketball, on which Eddie would never in his wildest dream expect to walk in when he returned from a gig one late night.‬

‪Gradually, it became their thing to spend time together whenever they could.‬

‪Yet, Eddie didn't dare to consider them as anything but friends.‬

‪Sure, they hung out all the time in each other's bedroom, they shared forehead kisses and cuddles, they brushed each other's hair, and they even lived in each other's wardrobe.‬

‪But, clearly, Steve was as straight as a ruler and Eddie wouldn't ruin their friendship just because of his stupid feelings.‬

‪So Eddie did what he thought was the best. He tried to move on.‬

‪But he had failed the moment a random girl walked up to Steve and started flirting with him.‬

‪An ugly thing reared its head inside Eddie and caused him to see Red.‬

‪He just stormed over and pulled Steve away from that girl, out of the bar, and into the back of his van without much thought for the consequences.‬

‪Fuck the consequences. Because Steve was his and his alone. Anyone could fuck off.‬

‪"Eds? Did something happen? Are you okay?" Steve looked at him in concern.‬

‪That got an amused huff out of Eddie. Of course, his sweetheart would worry about everyone but himself.‬

‪"No, I'm okay," he took in a deep breath to calm down. Then, he met those hazel eyes and decided to be honest for once. "I was just jealous."‬

‪"Of who?" Steve’s brows pinched in bafflement.‬

‪"Of that girl," Eddie licked his dry lips and watched Steve's gaze flick down to them before meeting his eyes again.‬

‪"Why?"‬

‪"Why?" Eddie parroted back before giving out the answer that had been locked inside him for years. "Because I like you, Steve."‬

‪"Oh," Steve breathed out.‬

‪"Yeah," Eddie snorted bitterly and braced himself for the imminent heartbreak. ‬

‪He waited for Steve to either turn him down gently or punch him in the face for taking advantage of their friendship for his greed and selfishness.‬

‪He knew Steve would never do that. But it'd hurt far worse if Steve got upset enough with him to resort to pure violence.‬

‪Instead, all Steve did was ask with a raised eyebrow, "So are you gonna kiss me now or do I need to do it first?"‬

‪Eddie didn't need to be told twice to cup Steve's face and lock their lips together.‬

‪This could be another good dream for all he cared.‬

‪For now, Eddie didn't want to drown himself in yet another existential crisis until he was done making out with his darling.‬

‪Until they stumbled into Steve's bed, until Eddie was permitted to do everything to the other man, including blowing his back out that he knew it wasn't a dream. Because Eddie never made it this far in his dreams before.‬

‪"So are we boyfriends now?" Eddie asked again just to make sure as he cuddled and shared lazy kisses with an adorably sleepy Steve.‬

‪"Mhm," Steve hummed under his breath, all rosy cheeks and blissed out.‬

‪"Just so you know," Eddie traced his forefinger on the soft outline of Steve's chin. "You're gonna be stuck with me for a very long time and even if you try to kick me away, I'd find a way to get back to you."‬

‪"That sounds perfect to me," Steve yawned and snuggled up to him.‬

‪"Yeah?" Eddie tightened his arms around Steve.‬

‪"Uh-huh," Steve planted a small kiss on his jaw. "We're in this together now. And you're gonna see how clingy I am very soon. Just don't regret it, Munson."‬

‪"I'd never, sweetheart," Eddie whispered back and gave his lovely boyfriend another smooch on his forehead.‬

‪As Eddie slowly drifted off, he just knew he was the world's happiest and luckiest man to have Steve in his life.

‪And that was a blessing he'd never take for granted.‬

#steddie #idiots in love #possessive eddie munson #steve harrington is a sweetheart #steddie fluff #ficlet #sionewrites

[nyxthejinx]

Heya!

I just saw your open for request post and want to commission an Cyno x gn!reader, please? :) a fluffy and spicy drabble would be lovely. Maybe smth like.. the reader is good friends with Cyno and Tighnari but the reader went on a journey thru teyvat and met the Aether (traveler) on their way and since then they traveled together and been thru much so they have a connection ofc and then when the reader and Aether visit sumeru and they meet Cyno - he will get all jealous? Cause he sees how close they are and he fears that he missed his chance with the reader? But obvsly its not like that and yeah. A lil bit of making out at the end, please? cause Cyno needs to let out some steam after his jealously :^)

Thank you for doing requests btw!

FIRST. It took ages but I was able to sell my soul in exchange for inspiration only recently, I'm so sorry. SECOND thank YOU for asking, I wasn't sure about this until the 3am among us potion made it work. THIRD beautiful pfp, akaza bb fr i love him a normal amount I promise. FOURTH it's 5 am, literally I'm not kidding, I tried to proofread and all that but I don't even know what's my name anymore so I'm sorry for typos and shit. FIFTH I hope It makes sense, enjoy 💀

𝐓𝐖: Fluff and obviously spice (making out, vague allusions to the dirty deeds ;) ), use of petnames (dear, love), lemme know if I missed something.

𝐅𝐭.: Cyno, Aether (but he's your homie) - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: Rendezvous - Little Mix (god this song is such a banger)

Cyno fears nothing.

"Cyno, this is Aether."

Cyno fears one thing.

He'd felt so happy after reading your last letter. You said you'd be back in a few days with a special surprise, but honest to Archons the fact you'd be coming back to him - for him, he’d wanted to say, but not dared to- was enough of a present.

He surely wasn't expecting that this "surprise" would be none other than the Traveler who's saved Sumeru, though. A charming blondie who drifts a bit too close to you, in Cyno's opinion.

"We met in Liyue, he's amazing." You smile, squeezing the blond's shoulder. "He's a well known traveler across Teyvat, even in regions he has yet to visit!"

"I just help those who need it, not that much of a big deal."

Aether blushes and rubs his neck. Aether blushes. And you're touching him in a way that only close friends do.

It's fine, Cyno wants to think. You're allowed to do whatever you want in your life, he sure as hell won't stand in your way. He already stepped aside back in the days, as you excitedly told him how one of his worst fears came true you were leaving for adventure.

Everything to make you happy.

But his mixed feelings would always get in the way and unleash endless internal conflicts. It wasn't simply about not having you around, it was some kind of longing sitting inside his chest and screaming at you not to go.

It was the distance that made him realise: he was, and still is, far too in love for his own good.

And Aether could get in the way of that.

"We meet again, Traveller." The General nods, pushing down such shameful thoughts. "I'm glad to see you are both fairing well."

"It's all thanks to [Name], actually." Aether nudges you in the ribs. "They're really helpful, no matter the task."

You smirk. "Oh, what an honour. The traveller complementing me, a common, mortal nobody."

"Hey, I'm not that annoying!"

"Maybe. But you sure snore at night. That is annoying."

"Wh-! I don't. I know for a fact-"

No, you don't sound like close friends. You sound like a married couple. What just happened in this handful of months? Did Cyno hesitate too long and lost his chance? Now that he had decided to expose his deepest feelings?

"You guys! Paimon is starving here."

Paimon's shrill voice cuts short the bicker, as the Matra's jaw clenches. Good time, credits to Paimon, but seeing the two of you stroll towards the tavern didn't ease the knot in his chest the slightest.

Your laughter wasn't addressed to him nor to his uncanny jokes. He wasn't the one making you smile.

He was the moon and he'd just been eclipsed by the Traveller's brightest light.

Dinner was... Gut wrenching, to say the least.

You'd known Cyno long enough to tell apart his feelings even as he wears that stoic facade of his. While Paimon and the Traveller didn't have a single clue about the situation, you could feel his dry gaze burning holes on both of your figures, as if the sun had ascended back to the skies and everything around had turned desert.

He was feeling something you'd never quite seen within him.

It took you a bit too long to realise that the fair, lawful General Mahamatra was jealous, of all things.

He was so subtle with it, carefully hid his resentment in his voice and choice of words, in his gestures and mannerisms. But worst of all he didn't propose a single joke during the meal, not even when you laid the chance on a silver platter for him.

That had your mind reeling for the rest of your time together, and even afterwards, as you waved goodnight to Aether and Paimon. As you walked these streets you still know by heart with your dearest friend by your side.

As you choked on the thick air surrounding the two of you.

Maybe you should've left Aether out of it, for the first day, at least. Cyno hadn't seen you in so long, perhaps he didn't like the way Aether inadvertently hogged your attention the entire time when all he wanted was to hear about your adventures.

Yeah, you'd been an idiot for that one.

But, you still had an ace up your sleeve. Quite literally. One that would grant you his forgiveness and hopefully help you say the words to him.

Because of course, it took you less than a week far from him to realise you were smitten for this dad-jokes-spitting being.

You patted your side as you approached Razan Garden in all its glory, and sighed at the feeling of the rectangular box still inside. You could do it, you had to! It took you months of preparation, you wouldn't let it go to waste.

"[Name]." Cyno's voice was soft, as if to match the atmosphere lingering in the marble gazebo. He'd stopped a couple steps ahead of you, but didn't turn to meet your eyes. "My congratulations and best wishes."

You alt abruptly at that. Where the hell is it coming from?

"Uh, thank you?" You quirk a brow. "Did I do something special without knowing?"

He chuckles under his breath. Yes, you are special and he's grateful a being so perfect can exist in this world and is part of his life. But he would never tell you that.

He turns instead. His eyes rich with emotion, gentler. "I'm beyond glad that you found the right person out there, [Name]."

Oh. Oh.

"I only ever hoped for your happiness and well-being, during this period of time."

"Cyno, wait a sec-"

He takes a step forward. "If I had to voice my honest thoughts... I must admit I couldn't find peace of mind knowing you would've been out there alone."

"Cyno-"

"But I see you're perfectly capable of handling your own," the man sighs, shakes his head. A small smile curves his lips. "Just like you've always done."

"Oi-"

And then he's placing loose hands on your shoulders, as if he's in some kind of automatic mode and has to finish the speech at all costs.

For a moment you think he's gone absolutely senile. "Still, I'm relieved you have someone who can watch your back, now. He's a kind-hearted person, level headed, the best you could wish for-"

"Archons' fucking sake, Cyno! Will you hear me out a damn second?"

Cyno almost jumps back, taken out of his weird reverie, but you're quick to trap his face between your hands. You're close, closer than you'd wanted to, unfocused in your frustrated fervor. So much his breath warms the apple of your cheek, as it wasn't burning already.

You take a breath and force more words out before you can cower away from it. "I get where you're coming from, I neglected you today and acted like a shitty friend. And I'm sorry for that."

You lower your gaze to the ground. Now or never. "But it's you, okay? It's always been you! I could travel across all Teyvat and even Celestia, but it's you and just you. So drop that thing you're on about please."

That was disgustingly corny. But hopefully did the trick, you guess.

A beat passes. Then two. You don't see his face, you don't have the courage to take a look at the mess you've made. Him being jealous didn't mean he liked you, not necessarily. Maybe you should've given him the TCG deck and call it a night.

Another beat goes by.

"So... You and Aether are not...?"

He's gonna be the death of you.

You groan, a guttural sound that shouts exasperation from the deepest parts of your chest. All rationality goes to hell as you drag him closer and slam your lips together.

You're kissing him. Archons you're kissing him-

There's no time for Cyno to react. You're pulling away in a frenzy, hoping the ground will open for the Abyss to swallow you right now. You kissed one of your friends only to prove that you're single, and in fact attracted to them. Could it be worse than that? More humiliating and disrespectful to him?

"I'm so sorry!" You wave your hands around. "I shouldn't have without your permission! Are you okay?"

You search his expression for any sign of discomfort; he looks absolutely flabbergasted, but somehow weirdly composed like a bronze statue. His lips -god you'd just kissed them- are parted in the slightest, his eyes wide and yet still. The calm before the storm.

He's showing yet another sentiment you've never really seen him wear.

"Again." Cyno says.

You blink. "Uh?"

You feel his hand slither behind you and circle your waist, as he pushes your body closer. His skin is running hot like the desert's sands and you curse at his choice, or better lack of clothes.

His silver hair falls like a curtain, his eyes sharp. Dangerous, even, if you're not careful enough.

"Please, do it again. I think I've just seen the gates of Celestia." He mutters close to your lips.

That sounds more like him. You can't help but snort at his choice of words, shuddering all the same. The implications of said words dig a flaming hole in your chest.

"How can you be so smart, but dum dum at the same time?" You whisper, one hand traveling to the back of his neck, the other busying itself with stray locks of hair.

And you dip in for another kiss. One you sigh into, one that can be called kiss, actually. It's slower, but full all the same, scorching hot, pushed by feelings that were repressed for too long.

Cyno locks his free hand at your nape, never possessive, although firm. Small sounds bubble in the back of his throat when you bite at his lower lip, then backs just enough to mutter a couple words.

"Can you really blame me? It feels like a dream coming true." He pecks your lips, then presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. "I was scared you'd chosen him."

"So, all those pretty words from before?" You exhale a breathy laugh, cradling his jaw.

"I'd give away everything I have and am if it meant you'd be happy. I could only wish you the best and support you." Cyno smiles, pouting after the next words leave his mouth. "But it doesn't mean I would be fully content with the outcome."

Your brain has turned to mush. This man is too dangerous for this world, a hazard for you and your poor little heart that feels like exploding. It's a threat to your common sense and rationality. But most of all, it's damaging your brakes.

What he's telling you should not be legal.

"Archons, come here." And you kiss, and kiss, kiss again and again. You map each other's bodies with your hands as if it was the last time you'd be seeing each other. You press your mouths, clatter your teeth, intertwine your tongues.

You're straight up devouring in the dead silence of the night, in a public space. But as indecent the sounds you're both making are, it feels as if the world around blurred and blended into nothingness.

You've found yourself with your back to a wall, somehow, a couple buttons loose, skin hit by the cold air of the night. You -surely more clothed than Cyno- are an absolute mess, whereas his appearance doesn't falter much even at your hands' mercy.

It's unfair, he's unfair. He has no right to be this damn perfect even in the face of chaos.

"Not here, Cy." You manage to utter. "Let's go home."

His hand stops halfway up your shirt and he detaches from your neck with a small grunt, red splotches forming already thanks to his work. He doesn't sound pleased with your choice, but wordlessly complies, knocking you off your feet and picking you up so easily it's unfair.

And embarrassing.

You deadpan. "Seriously?"

He finds your eyes, suddenly composed as if nothing happened. "You seemed quite unstable on your legs, dear."

You're audibly gasping at that, whacking his chest and glaring daggers. "You!"

"Let's continue it home, now."

Cyno is really going to be the death of you, in many ways you'd never even considered.

It's almost dawn when you finally let yourselves snuggle up to each other in the peace of your home. More like his home, since yours needs more than a bit of cleaning after months of disuse, but he's made it clear already: everything that's his is also yours.

Cyno traces patterns on the bare skin of your arm, as you card through the knots on the back of his head, formed after... Recent activity. He seems too lost in your touch to even be awake, when his fingers stop.

"What was the surprise, in the end? Was it the confession?"

Your hands still, your face tightening at the question. When did you even... Oh, right.

"Would you be satisfied if I said yes?"

He pinches you.

"Owie!"

"You should know that what has been of this night matters more than anything, to me. Of course I would be satisfied." Cyno raises a thin brow, as his hand starts to descend agonizingly slow, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. "Was I not clear enough about my feelings? Perhaps you need a reminder-"

"Whoa, hold your horses, General." You chuckle, planting a kiss on his forehead before leaning over to your bedside table, where your bag had been thrown previously. "There was no way I'd come back empty handed after all these months, yanno?"

You pull out the wrapped box, place it in his hands. Cyno stares at it quizzically, but opens the packaging with care after you nudge him in the side.

Oh, his expression is so, so priceless. Cute, too cute, so cute you could die right now on the spot for excess of sugar in your blood. He looks like a kid who's just received the toy he oh so wanted and ranted about.

"It's not just any deck," You explain. "It's a deck made of cards I've gathered around from different regions. Some were more challenging to get, but I've been playing with you for a long time, haven't I? Of course I'd win."

Meanwhile Cyno takes the liberty to browse its contents, and just like you said, they're not from Sumeru. He's barely ever seen them, some are literally unknown, and he's ecstatic at the sight. How long did it take? How much effort?

"This is…" there's no right term to describe it. "Wonderful. You are wonderful, [Name]."

He goes for a hug and you feel like your bodies fit perfectly in each other's arms, as if it was meant to be. Right now, all that matters is this. And it will always be for all you care.

You smile into his shoulder, smooch the base of his neck. "Is it too early to say 'I love you?'."

"I would actually say we're late, Love."

"I love you, then, you Dum-Dum."

"I love you."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"You are like my asthma. You just take my breath away."

You make sure Cyno slams his head as you throw him off the bed.

DON'T copy/repost my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

#Genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #Cyno x reader #cyno #genshin Cyno #genshin impact #gn reader #Genshin drabble #genshin fluff #Genshin Impact smut #cyno smut #Genshin smut #| Genshin Impact 🌓 | #| Nyx Writes 🌑 |

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Firefighter Au? Our Coccam crew would be pretty much the best firefighters with their warrior skills. So, could you please write Modern Sihtric x Reader where he is a firefighter and helps her. Idk if her house was burning that's pretty brutal or something minor like a cat on a tree. Whatever you feel like. And could it be a bit longer, like a slow burn with a smut at the end. You know what I really liked your submissive Sihtric from that back to past story. So maybe something like that? I feel like I expect too much and I don't want to interrupt your creative flow. Really, it's a blessing you have an account here and write so much amazing stories. Thank you!

Note: thank you so much for your kind words and for this request! I hope it meets your expectations. Also, for the first time I tied in some songs that I was listening to when writing this, might be fun if readers check them out to get the vibe, you know? ...or not, if you don't feel like it! but uhh yeah... is it hot in here? and sorry for all the bad puns, I can't help myself.

Warnings: fluff! some angst, some spicy bits and some smut. 18+! mention of (house)fire, smoking/cigarettes.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: A hot as heck firefighter had to rescue your cat, and your heart was burning for him ever since.

Word count: 8k (woops)

Masterlist

'You really want me to strip for you, huh?'

****************

'I'm so sorry, I really am!'

'No worries, lady,' the firefighter smiled, who happened to be smoking hot and spoke with an accent. He walked over to you, holding your cat in his arms as his colleagues sat grinning in the firetruck.

'Oh, Mister Meow Meow,' you cooed when the man handed you the cat, 'why did you get up in that tree, little fuzz ball?'

'Mister Meow Meow?' the firefighter, with beautiful mismatched eyes, chuckled.

'Yeah, I… I have no excuse for that name,' you giggled and hid behind the cat. 'But, I really am sorry. I know you guys have better things to do than rescuing cats out of trees.'

'Actually… I'm glad it was a cat this time,' the man said, raking his tattooed fingers through his short, dark hair, exposing a tattoo on the side of his head, and neck, as he turned his face to the side. 'This street has a lot of fires. So when I saw the address I expected the worst, but I was happy to read it was just a cat stuck in a tree. And no need to feel bad, my cat does this all the time too,' he shrugged with a sweet smile as he petted Mister Meow Meow.

'Wait, what do you mean a lot of fires?' you asked.

The man frowned and you quickly told him you had only moved in about a month ago, and so far, you hadn't seen or heard anything about fires in your street. The pretty boy explained that some of the older houses in your street have faulty gas cylinders, used for cooking, which causes gas leaks on the regular.

'Add a candle or cigarette to that and you know…' he mimics an explosion.

'Are people not aware of that problem?' you felt a little spooked.

'Oh, no, they are. The government has sent out letters to everyone in this street, after we urged them, and some people replaced everything. But there are so many people who always think it won't happen to them. Until, you know...'

'Do I have… how do I know if my gas… cycles?'

'Cylinders.'

'Yes, those things...'

'If they're safe?'

'Yeah?'

'Well,' the handsome man looked over your shoulder at your house, frowning lightly as he bit down on his lip, 'yours should be fine, really. As you just moved in, they can't sell or rent out homes anymore without renewing the cylinders here.'

'Oh,' you smiled nervously.

'But… I mean, I could take a look at it, if that makes you sleep better at night?'

'Would you?' you asked shyly.

'Of course, lady. Wouldn't want Mister Meow Meow here to burn to a crisp - Gods, I mean, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, that was inappropriate, I… I'm,' he stammered and sighed, 'firefighter humour,' he grimaced and looked down to his feet.

You chuckled as his cheeks coloured a shade of red, 'It's okay, I get it. And I indeed would not want Mister Meow Meow to burn to a… crisp.'

The man laughed softly and you told him to follow inside. You apologised for the many unpacked boxes, you have just been lazy with unpacking. The man appreciated your honesty and checked the gas cylinder. You quietly studied him as he was busy. He was wearing the full firefighter gear, but you knew his body had to be muscular by the quick glimpse of his form fitting shirt underneath his jacket. The man was handsome and lean, and you wondered how he got the scars on his face, which gave him a rough look, in a good way. After a quick inspection he said everything was perfectly safe. You thanked him and he gave Mister Meow Meow a belly rub as his colleagues became impatient.

'Oi, hot shot!' one of the firefighters shouted with a thick Irish accent, urging him to hurry.

'I had to pet the cat, okay?' the hot shot shouted back as he walked out your door. He turned to wish you a good evening and told you to keep an eye on the cat, to which you simply smiled.

'Oh, and I don't mean to be rude,' he said, 'but you really gotta unpack those boxes, you know? Clear the floor. It's a fire hazard.'

'Oh, I… yeah, I - I will.'

'You better,' he said softly and smiled, quickly looking you up and down before he turned and jogged towards the firetruck.

'Wait! What's your name?' you called after him.

'Sihtric, lady,' still smiling when he looked back at you.

'Sihtric,' you repeated softly, making sure you'd remember, 'my name is-'

'I know your name, lady,' he said with a sly smile before he climbed in the truck, 'we always see who made the call.'

Sihtric winked with a cheeky smile and saluted you with his right hand, closing the truck's door with his left, after which his colleague hit the gas. 

And just like that, a firefighter had set your heart ablaze on a warm summer evening.

*************

Almost two weeks had passed since your cat had climbed up the tree in your frontyard. And you knew exactly what was going on when you heard a loud, out of tune meow outside. There was only one cat with that horrible sound of a meow, and you looked out the window to find your fluffy cat up in the same tree again. You ran outside and tried to 'pss pss pss' him down, but to no avail.

'Mister Meow Meow!' you groaned, 'you're an embarrassment to this family!' 

You looked around and caught the lady next door frowning at you from behind her kitchen window.

'You can not seriously make me call the fire brigade again,' you muttered and buried your face in your hands. But Mister Meow Meow insisted on being rescued by a firefighter again. 

Full of shame you sat on your porch as a fire brigade commander truck pulled up to your driveway. You were confused that it was not the ladder truck with 4 men strong, like last time, and your cheeks were on fire when you saw Sihtric stepped out of the truck, with a smirk. Once again in full gear, this time accompanied by black sunglasses, which he took off as he neared you.

'Mister Meow Meow?' he grinned.

'I feel horrible,' you admitted.

'No need,' Sihtric reassured you and walked over to the tree, being greeted by your cat, who started to hiss at him from a safe distance.

'Oh, tough boy, are we?' Sihtric chuckled at the cat, 'but not tough enough to get out of the tree yourself, huh?'

'I think he's a little disappointed that the rescue operation is not as dramatic as last time,' you laughed and nodded towards the simple truck.

'Yeah, sorry to disappoint, Mister Meow Meow, it's just me today,' Sihtric yelled up to the cat and then turned to you, 'we got the call and I recognised your name and, obviously, this street too. So I already knew what was going on when I saw the word cat in the message. And also, this tree is easy to climb, so we didn't even really need the ladder last time,' he confessed, 'we had a slow day last time. The whole thing was just for show, lady,' Sihtric winked. You smiled and found yourself twirling your hair while you had been listening to him. 

Sihtric stepped towards the tree, took off his black bunker jacket and threw it onto your lawn, revealing the tight, white tank top he wore underneath. Your jaw dropped slightly as your eyes grew big, scanning every inch of his insanely toned biceps and broad shoulders as he pulled himself up into your tree. You felt your temperature rise and wondered what he looked like without that tank top, in just those black bunker pants with his red suspenders and black boots. You contemplated arson just to find out and thought he could probably set fire to your bed.

At the same time, the lady next door looked up from her cooking book, out the kitchen window, and lowered her reading glasses at the sight of the flaming hot fireman who flexed his muscles with each pull upwards. A few moms who were pushing their strollers also stopped, curious to see what was happening when they noticed the modest firetruck. 

You all had the same hungry look on your faces and held your breath when Sihtric, with those toned, veiny, sweat glistening arms, finally reached Mister Meow Meow, who was clearly not impressed by the man's appearance, and clawed Sihtric in the face when he managed to pull the cat towards him. You all gasped, but Sihtric didn't even flinch at the cat's assault and he carefully climbed down. You all watched his movements and wished those pants he was wearing were tighter.

'Let's see how tough you are next time you're in that tree,' Sihtric hissed at the cat who was dramatically meowing as he was pressed between Sihtric's chest and his muscular arm. Sihtric took a small leap out the tree and landed with both feet on the ground, he turned around and was greeted by a scattered group of women, who looked at him as if they hadn't seen a man in years.

He rolled his eyes, quickly handed you the cat and grabbed his coat off your lawn.

'Oh my god,' you said, 'I'm so sorry, are you okay?'

'What?' Sihtric frowned.

'Your face, my cat… he scratched you. You're bleeding a little.'

'Oh,' Sihtric smiled and wiped his cheek, smudging some blood across his face as he did, and each woman there felt a shiver go down their spine. Sihtric looked at his slightly blooded palm and shrugged, 'nah, it's nothing, lady.'

'So… can I… I don't get fined at some point, right? For calling the fire brigade every time this happens?'

'No, that won't happen. Otherwise I'll fix that for you,' he smiled and wiped his hands clean on his tank top and noticed that a bunch of women were still staring at him. He sighed.

'Show's over, ladies,' he said sternly, startling the women who made haste to continue about their day.

'Sorry about that too,' you blushed.

'Nah,' Sihtric clicked his tongue, 'pros and cons of the job I suppose,' he cleared his throat, 'hey, did you make any progress unpacking those boxes?'

'Yes, most of it has been unpacked. Just some heavier stuff left still, but the floor has a path now,' you chuckled and started to walk towards your porch.

'Good to hear,' Sihtric smiled, 'do you need any help? Moving the heavier stuff I mean?'

'Oh. Ehm… well… actually, yes,' you admitted shyly.

'Want me to help you out?'

'Would you do that? I mean aren't you working right now?'

'Yeah,' he shrugged with a smirk, 'helping a pretty lady out could be considered part of the job. Besides it's a slow day again, I have a few minut-,' Sihtric got interrupted by his radio in the truck. 

He looked down with a half smile and shook his head lightly. The whole day there had been zero incidents, apart from your cat being stuck, and just when he wanted to make his move someone called in an emergency. The gods weren't on his side today, he figured.

'I'm sorry, I have to respond,' he gestured to the truck.

'No, of course,' you said, understanding. 

You watched him walk up to the truck and, as he communicated with someone through the radio, you shoved your cat back inside the house and closed the door. When you walked back out again, Sihtric walked up to you.

'I'm really sorry, I gotta go. I'd love to help you out but someone's stuck in an elevator, and apparently they don't want to wait around,' he joked.

'Oh, god,' you chuckled lightly, 'it's okay, I'll find a way to drag the heavy stuff up the stairs sometime.'

'You do that,' he smiled sweetly, reluctantly stepping back as he really had to go, 'or, you know… next time that cat of yours gets up in that tree again I might have more time.'

'Next time?' you frowned, watching Sihtric open the car door and he chuckled.

'Yeah… I'm sure I'll see you again, lady,' Sihtric winked, put his sunglasses back on and got in the car.

'Fucking idiot,' Sihtric murmured as he drove away, 'should've asked her number.'

***************

A few days later you found yourself in the petstore, trying to lift a heavy pack of cat litter off the floor as the employees didn't bother to help. Unbeknownst to you, Sihtric had walked in the store after you, looking for something they didn't seem to have, and he recognized you as you had paid. He enjoyed watching you struggle for a moment before he walked up to you and leaned on the counter.

'Need a hand with that, doll?' he asked with a sly smile as he looked down at you.

'Sihtric?' you looked up at the stunning man and your knees trembled beneath you, 'uh… no, no, I-I got this.' you smiled painfully. 

Sihtric chuckled and grabbed the bag, threw it over his shoulder and waited for you to tell him where to go. You walked him to your car and thanked him after he closed the trunk. 

'How's that Meow Meow?' Sihtric couldn't say the name without a chuckle, 'not climbing the tree anymore?'

'No, it's been too hot outside lately, he just stays inside the house now.'

'And here I was waiting for your call,' Sihtric clicked his tongue.

'Speaking about calls, how did the elevator incident go?'

'Oh, he died.'

'What?'

'No, I'm kidding. The man's fine. He accidentally pressed the emergency stop,' Sihtric sighed.

'Oh,' you snorted, 'at least he lives.'

'He does,' Sihtric smiled at you and his eyes drifted to your lips for a split second. He looked away and lit a cigarette when you looked for your car keys in your bag.

'Not enough smoke to inhale in your line of work?' you blurted out.

'Bad habit,' Sihtric winked.

'Sure is,' you agreed with a smile. You didn't smoke yourself, and you knew it was bad, but Sihtric looked so damn hot doing it, you forgave him for it.

'What's yours?' Sihtric smiled and leaned back against your car, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing out the smoke when you answered him.

'My bad habit?' you chuckled, 'hmm… probably falling for the wrong type of men.'

'That's equally as toxic as these things,' Sihtric held his cigarette up, 'but how so?' he asked before he took another drag.

'Ehh, it's a long story really,' you scoffed lightly.

'Hm,' he hummed and flicked his cigarette away. He tilted his head slightly up, away from you, and blew out the remaining smoke, 'care to tell me over a drink sometime?'

'Oh,' flustered by his sudden question, 's-sure. When? Like, eh, t-tonight?''

Sihtric smacked his lips as he took out a small box of mints from his black flannel's chest pocket, 'I'm working a shift tonight, doll,' he shook out some mints, 'how's tomorrow evening?' he held the box out to you but you politely declined, to which he smiled and chewed down his mints.

'Oh, I can't tomorrow evening, got dragged into someone's plans already, sorry,' you said.

Sihtric pouted at you before he chuckled and stepped closer, 'how about I check my schedule at work tonight and I'll text you?'

'Yeah, works for me.'

'Yeah?' Sihtric smiled and took out his phone. And you couldn't stop smiling after you had given him your number, and he promised to contact you later that evening. And he kept his promise as he texted you around midnight.

Sihtric: sorry I'm texting you this late, just got home, hope this won't wake you up. I have monday and thursday evening off. Let me know if that suits you?

You: hey, I'm still awake don't worry. Damn, you only have two evenings off per week? But monday works for me too :) 

Sihtric: hey :) 

Sihtric: oh no, I have the other nights off too next week, but it's only monday and thursday I'm really free, the other evenings I have to be on stand-by

You: ohhh I get it now :)

Sihtric: so monday it is?

You: monday it is

Sihtric: pick you up at 8?

You: you know where to find me ;)

Sihtric: I do ;)

You: how was your shift?

Sihtric: sweet of you to ask, but it was uneventful. Your night?

You: uneventful too

Sihtric: what keeps you up this late then? 

You: right now? Clearly you…

Sihtric: smart-ass ;) but fine, I'll stop texting you. about to doze off myself anyway

Sihtric: sweet dreams x

You: awh, go get some rest. sweet dreams for you too x

Sihtric: thanks doll

Sihtric: can't wait to see you next week xx

You: can't wait to see you either, pretty boy ;) xx

Sihtric: cutie :) xx

**************

It was Friday night when Sihtric enjoyed a drink at his favourite bar after his shift had just finished. It had been a long day and, because he couldn't see you today, he wanted to have a quick drink to unwind, before he went home again. He had almost finished his drink when he heard a loud group of women walk in. He turned at the commotion and groaned lightly when he immediately figured it was a bachelorette party, as one woman was dressed in a, rather revealing, wedding dress.

'That's my cue,' Sihtric sighed at the bartender, who grinned, knowing exactly why Sihtric was keen to leave as his expected scenario was about to happen. Sihtric was still dressed in full gear except for his jacket, which was thrown over his shoulder. As he got up to leave, the woman dressed as a bride, clearly drunk, laid eyes upon him and she squealed before she turned to her friends.

'You guys got me a stripper?!' she exclaimed. Most of her friends seemed to join in on the excitement and screamed too, thinking one of them had hired a stripper.

Sihtric rolled his eyes and politely shuffled his way towards the door when he suddenly bumped into you.

'Sihtric?' you frowned with a smile, pleasantly surprised to run into him.

'Hey, doll,' he smiled, equally as surprised, 'what brings you here?'

'That nightmare,' you grimaced and pointed at the bachelorette party.

'You're kidding?' Sihtric scoffed while he was being eyed up by the other ladies, still expecting him to be a stripper.

'Unfortunately not,' you confessed, 'I'm having a horrible time. I barely know them. The bride to be is a new colleague at work who, for some reason, thinks we're best friends but… I don't vibe with her. I'm only being nice but,' you sighed, 'I'd rather be at home right now.'

'At home?' Sihtric frowned, 'not having a drink with me?'

'Well I guess that might also be better than this,' you teased.

'You guess?' he smiled and nudged your shoulder, 'watch it, cheeky lady.'

'Or what?'

'Or I won't rescue Mister Meow Meow when he's stuck in that tree again.'

You both laughed and had actually forgotten about the other women, until the drunk future bride came up to you and slurred, 'Oh, my god! You know the stripper man? Is he single?'

'He's not a stripper,' you told her, which she probably didn't even grasp but she stumbled off to her friends. 

'Sorry,' you told Sihtric.

'No, this actually happens more often than you'd think,' Sihtric grimaced.

'That sucks.'

'It does really,' he snorted.

'If it makes you feel any better,' you grinned, 'I think you'd be a hot stripper.'

'Well,' he gave you a sly smile, 'I only strip on mondays…' he winked and brushed his warm, rough hand over your arm, 'alright, I gotta go. Enjoy your night, yeah?' he said and pecked your cheek.

'I probably won't enjoy it much,' you chuckled and held his hand briefly, 'but seeing you made it better.'

Sihtric bit down on his lip and smiled, squeezing your hand before he stepped back to leave.

'Text me?'

'I will,' you promised. 

And you did. You texted each other throughout the weekend, both clearly impatient for Monday evening to arrive.

******************

Sihtric: doll...

Sihtric: one of my colleagues fell off a ladder and broke his knee. I have to be on stand-by tonight to fill in. but I still really want to see you… you okay with that?

You: oh is he okay? And yeah no problem 

Sihtric: he's fine, didn't even happen on the job…

You: oh

You: what a lousy firefighter?

Sihtric: I know, I said the same!

Sihtric rang your doorbell around 8. You asked him if it was a good idea to get a drink somewhere because he was on stand-by, or if you should stay close to home. He told you it doesn't happen often that he gets called away when he has the evening more or less off, so he took you for a drink at the bar he had seen you a few nights earlier.

You learned Sihtric was polite, funny, smart and a flirt, but only with you, he clearly had no eyes for any other lady who glanced at him. He did sometimes ramble on about things, which you thought was adorable, and you didn't mind it either because you could listen to his sexy accent for hours on end. You eventually told each other about some of the failed past relationships you've had. You just always fell for douchebags whereas Sihtric couldn't keep a girl because they only liked the idea of dating a firefighter and not the actual reality of it, which was something he really wanted to make clear to you. You told him you understood it's not an easy life, but also admitted you had no idea what it would actually be like.

'I think you'll find out soon,' Sihtric smiled. He said that because he felt a connection with you, and somehow knew you were serious about him. Meaning that you'd stick around and would find out overtime what it's like when he has to work. But his comment turned out to be a grim prediction of the hours that followed. 

After about an hour, Sihtric had moved to sit next to you, instead of across from you, and had put his arm around your shoulders as he showed you pictures of his cat.

'So cute!' you smiled, 'what's his name?'

'Uh,' Sihtric snorted, 'dog.'

'Dog?'

'Yeah.'

'You named your cat Dog, and you talk shit about Mister Meow Meow?'

You both laughed at the stupidity and found yourself leaning closer to him. His eyes darted between your lips and your eyes, and just when he was about to kiss you, his phone rang.

'Ah, shit,' he muttered before he read the message and looked at you, 'probably work.'

'It's fine,' you reassured him, albeit sad you got so close to kiss him and it got ruined.

'Fuck,' Sihtric looked bewildered, 'it's your street.'

'What?'

He showed you the message and asked him what this meant.

'Fire, but it doesn't show the house number for me.'

'Oh my god,' you gasped softly while Sihtric quickly rang his work.

'Uhtred? Yeah, I got the message, but they still didn't fix that bug so I only got the street name and a vague hint of what is going on,' he paused as Uhtred spoke. 'Fucking hell,' Sihtric replied and gave you a concerned look, 'yeah, I'll be there. Bring my gear, okay? I'm out with my girl now, she lives on that street. I'm bringing her home first so I'll be there anyway. Yeah, thanks.'

Sihtric hung up and you both jumped up.

'Big fire,' Sihtric simply said, holding your hand as he made haste to his car.

'Do you know the house number?'

'Fifty-two.'

'Fifty-two?!' you yelled.

'Doll, tell me that's not your house,' Sihtric became concerned.

'No, but… but it's my neighbours!'

Sihtric hit the gas, knowing any speeding tickets would be terminated, if he'd get any, because he was a first responder. You already saw huge black clouds before you were even near your street and your heart was pounding in your chest. Sihtric had his hand on your knee as he drove, squeezing lightly, trying to comfort you. As you neared your house, you were met with thick clouds as the wind blew them your way. Almost at the same time as you arrived, the firetrucks did too. You watched your neighbours house in horror as flames danced out of the windows upstairs. You lived in a detached house, luckily, so the chances of the fire spreading to your house, or others, was very small. But if the wind would shift, the fire could spread to the tree in which Mister Meow Meow had climbed several times before. You were relieved to see both your neighbours were outside of their house, holding each other as they cried, while being guided away from the smoke by medics.

'Stay in my car, okay?' Sihtric said as he unbuckled his seatbelt, 'there's too much smoke, and you can't go inside your house right now.'

'But my cat…'

'Is he outside?'

'I… I don't know,' you slightly panicked.

Sihtric understood your worry and cupped your cheeks, 'he will be fine, don't worry, okay? I have to run, promise you'll stay here, doll?'

You nodded and grabbed his shirt before he could open the door.

'Sihtric?' you said, and he looked at you with soft, questioning eyes, 'be… be careful.'

'Always,' he whispered and kissed your cheek before he jumped out of the car.

You watched Sihtric gear up while some firefighters already started their attempts to put out the fire. It took a while before they had the fire under control, and it felt as if you hadn't breathed the entire time you watched Sihtric do his job. You had seen him run inside the house with a few others, and when it took a while for them to come out again, you felt sick with worry, but as no one seemed alarmed, you tried to stay calm too. It seemed to take ages, and you nearly cried when you saw Sihtric had made it out again, taking off his helmet for a moment now that the smoke was not as thick anymore.

And then you looked to your right, and you saw Mister Meow Meow up in the tree. And as fate would have it, you saw how tiny flames, carried by the wind, lit up the leaves at the top of the tree. You screamed and kicked the car door open. Running, without thinking, into your garden while breaking the plastic tape which clearly said "do not cross".

'Hey!' Sihtric shouted hoarsely and was bewildered when he saw you running. He immediately dropped his helmet and chased after you.

'Darling, stop!' Sihtric probably damaged his vocal cords with the force he used, but you seemed completely deaf to your surroundings.

'Meow Meow!' you cried, yelling at your cat, who was belching his signature, annoying meow. And before you reached the slow burning tree, Sihtric pulled you back by wrapping his arms around your waist.

'No!' you screamed.

Sihtric spun you around to face him, 'what the hell is wrong with you, sweetheart!? You shouldn't be here!' he shouted, heated. You could tell he was not angry with you, but clearly worried.

'My cat!' you sobbed and pointed to the tree. Sihtric exhaled sharply and clenched his jaw when he saw the fire slowly spreading down, while your fluffy friend was halfway up the tree.

'Fuck!' he growled loudly, 'your cat is going to be the death of me one day!' but without hesitation he ran and climbed up in the tree, again.

'Finan! Get her away from here!' Sihtric shouted over his shoulder as he heard you cough, and soon his friend, and colleague, pulled you away to a safe distance.

You saw how both the fire, and Sihtric, closed in on your terrified cat, while ashes and smouldering leaves twirled down. It was almost a beautiful sight, you thought, in a macabre way. Luckily, Sihtric was faster than the fire and, this time, Mister Meow Meow couldn't wait to jump in Sihtric's arms.

You cried when Sihtric sprinted back to you with your Meow Meow in his arms, who, despite everything, seemed okay, but a vet was called in to check up on him regardless. And to make sure he was okay, they took him for the night. Sihtric had to leave you again, and it was a whirlwind of chaos until midnight. By then, most of the firetrucks and first responders had left, as the fire had been extinguished and the smoke had cleared. All neighbours were allowed back to their houses as it was deemed safe again.

You sat on your porch, face down, hands in your hair as your elbows rested on your knees, and your eyes were closed. Trying to process everything.

'Hey,' a soft voice said as a pair of heavy boots approached you. You recognised Sihtric's voice and looked up. He smiled softly as he sat down next to you and pulled you in his arms.

'You okay?'

'Yeah, I think so,' you sighed, tiredly, 'worried about my cat, but I guess he'll be fine. They called me and said he had a few minor burns. They will keep him for a day or two to treat him.'

'I'm sorry to hear that, I'm sure he will be okay,' Sihtric whispered and kissed your temple.

'What about you?' you looked up at him and noticed the scratches and black smudges on his face.

'I'm perfectly fine, lady,' he chuckled and pressed his face against yours, 'it's you I'm worried about. Don't ever run somewhere again when it clearly says you shouldn't cross.'

'I know, I'm sorry,' you shook your head with a smile, 'will I get fined for that?'

'You might actually,' Sihtric laughed. 

You took his free hand and enjoyed being so close to him for a short moment.

'I'm sorry about tonight,' Sihtric said after a few minutes, 'this was obviously not what I wanted our first date to be like. And I also have to head back to the fire station in a minute, wrap things up there, file reports, all that stuff.'

'I don't blame you for anything, it's your job,' you shrugged.

'Yeah, but… do you think you can deal with that?' Sihtric asked cautiously.

'Maybe after I've processed this all… yeah.'

Sihtric smiled and cupped your cheeks.

'I really hope so,' he whispered, and finally captured your lips in a firm, sweet kiss.

'Will you be okay on your own?' Sihtric asked. You told him you'd be fine and promised that if you needed anything you would text him. He gave you another soft kiss before he turned to leave, and glanced back over his shoulder before he got in the firetruck. You gave him a smile before you stepped inside your house, where you fell asleep on your couch only minutes later. Drained by the entire events of that day.

**************

You had slept all through the night, and morning, as you only woke up around noon when someone rang your doorbell.

'Sihtric?' you asked, sleepy and confused when you saw him.

'Hey, eh… I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up. Wanted to check on you so…'

'Oh,' you chuckled, 'sorry, I just woke up, haven't checked my phone yet.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, doll. I don't mean to be a bother. I just wanted to know if you were okay, that's all.'

'No, please, come in,' you smiled, 'if you have time?'

'Yeah, they gave me the day off today. Not even on stand-by,' he grinned.

'Aren't you lucky,' you joked and closed the door behind him, 'but why are you still in your gear?'

'I more or less slept at the station,' he confessed, 'I was too tired to drive home safely, so I just slept there. It's not the first time. Took a shower but I had no clean clothes with me, except for the set of jeans in my locker and the rest of my spare gear, so I had to wear this. It's a habit to still wear bunker pants over regular jeans, we all do it without thinking really. I actually meant to go home first to change, but I was a little worried about you so… yeah, sorry for the outfit.'

You snorted and said you weren't complaining, to which he gave you a cheeky smile.

Sihtric finally helped you with those heavy boxes you still hadn't unpacked, and he stole a kiss every now and then as he walked past you. To thank him, for everything, and to apologise for the troubles with Mister Meow Meow, you insisted on making him dinner, which he obviously did not decline. You both felt at ease with each other, so it was hard to not get close and keep your hands to yourselves. You both tried as hard as you could to not flirt throughout the day, but shortly after dinner it all went wrong, in the right way.

'So… how about that striptease?' you eventually asked after you had cleaned up the dinner table. You gave him a cheeky smile.

'Oh, you really want me to strip for you, huh?' he smirked.

'Well… you kinda promised…'

'I did, didn't I?' Sihtric gave you a cocky smile, 'but I said only on Mondays.'

'You ruined that for me,' you pouted, jokingly.

'Hey, if you have a complaint, lady, you can call my boss.'

'I might.'

'Sure,' Sihtric smiled and looked around your living room as he put his jacket on, 'well, got some music then?'

'What kind of music do you need?' you grinned.

Sihtric was quiet for a moment as he thought about your question while you quickly connected your phone to your speakers and handed the device to him.

A mischievous smile appeared on his face as he searched spotify. Then he hit play and threw your phone on your couch. And before the song could even start, he had you picked up in his arms and carried you over to your dinner table, where he sat you down.

The first note to Closer by Nine Inch Nails blasted through your living room and you stared at him, jaw slightly dropped, before you hid a nervous giggle behind your hands and looked away.

'Hey,' Sihtric smirked as he lifted your chin with his hand, 'eyes on me.'

Sihtric bit down on his lip and took your hand, guiding you to unzip his bunker coat, slowly. Your cheeks heat up instantly and would continue to do so throughout the whole song. Once unzipped, Sihtric took a step back from you and let his jacket slide off his shoulders, to his elbows, revealing his muscles and that tight fitting tank top he was wearing. He knew exactly what effect he had on you and enjoyed it. He gave you a cheeky smile and winked before he allowed his jacket to slip off further, until it fell on the floor with a heavy thump. 

Sihtric gave you a cocky look as your eyes darted over his arms. He closed the space between you and took your hands again, leaning his forehead against yours while smoothly moving his body to the beat, bringing your hands up above your head along with his. After a few seconds, he quickly let go of your hands and grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against his body in between your thighs. You let out a gasp at his strength and the sudden move. Your hands settled on his shoulders as you enjoyed the feeling of his body moving against yours. It had to be the sexiest thing you had ever seen, the way Sihtric moved so smoothly and in tune to the beat with his muscular body and his sly smile.

It became alarmingly hot in your house, and the fire hazard was a fireman, giving you a striptease and a lapdance. You giggled and looked away, but Sihtric was quick to grab your chin again, gently forcing your eyes back on him.

'Eyes on me, doll,' he said dangerously low and his fingers brushed your cheek lightly before he flicked his tongue against your lips. He took both your hands and moved them slowly up from his waist to his shoulders, making you feel every muscle underneath that tank top of his. You took a deep breath, which hitched as you felt his toned body underneath the soft fabric. Sihtric licked his lips as he looked into your eyes while guiding your hands again, sliding the red suspenders down his shoulders. He was enjoying this just as much as you were, and he smoothly dropped his bunker pants to the floor, revealing his regular skinny jeans underneath, which showed his muscular legs and his great ass.

'Enjoying the show?' Sihtric chuckled in your ear when he pulled you in. 

'Yeah,' you couldn't bring out another sensible word and simply giggled.

Sihtric hummed as he bit down his lip, dragging his hands over your thighs, to your knees as he took a step back.

'Is it not too hot for you yet?' he teased, to which you shook your head.

Sihtric crossed his arms and pulled his tank top slowly up to his chest, 'How about now?' he grinned as your big eyes took in those abs he had been hiding underneath all his gear. You shook your head again, completely flustered, and watched him take off his sleeveless shirt as you held your breath.

'Wanna have this, doll?' Sihtric smiled and held his shirt up to you. You nodded and attempted to grab the shirt, but he pulled back.

'Earn it,' he said with a smirk, 'use your tongue.'

You pulled him closer and slowly ran your tongue up from his waist to his collarbones, which made Sihtric hiss and throw his head back slightly. That shirt was yours now.

Sihtric moved his impressive body to the beat again before he took your hands, bringing them to his thighs, moving them up over his crotch, making you gasp as you felt his hard cock, and he moved your hands up over his bare torso. Sihtric winked with a smirk as he quickly flexed his muscles for you.

'Oh, Jesus,' you couldn't help yourself from blurting out when you felt his muscles tense under your hands, making Sihtric chuckle lightly.

He let go of your hands and pulled up a chair from underneath the dinner table. Sihtric was quick to pick you up in his strong arms again and sat you down on the chair, where he sank down to his knees in front of you, moving his hands slowly up your parted legs. And whatever sense you still had left in you disappeared when Sihtric pushed your legs together and got back up, placing his hands on the chair's backrest behind you, rolling his hips smooth and slow as he lowered his body down to your lap. He chuckled in your ear, grinding his hips against yours, causing you to moan softly and he kissed your lips before he got up again. Sihtric gently kicked your feet apart, leaned back in and shoved his knee between your thighs. He continued his slow hip rolls, driving you wild with his body, which made you grind against his knee as your hands moved up his chest again.

'You're so fucking hot,' you sighed.

'Yeah?' Sihtric smirked, 'you like it when I dance for you?'

'Yeah,' you moaned as he leaned in to give you a sloppy kiss.

'I want you to wear my jacket when I fuck you,' Sihtric whispered in your ear, 'will you do that for me, doll?' 

You nodded, light-headed at his request.

'Yeah?' Sihtric whispered huskily in your ear, 'take your clothes off for me now, babydoll?'

Sihtric took your hands and pulled you up, watching you rid yourself of your clothes as fast as you could. He beckoned you over as you wore nothing but your lace bra with matching underwear. He hummed with a smile as he eyed you up before he pulled your body against his, and sank down his knees again, slowly and sensually, trailing his hands over your skin and pecking your naked flesh where he could. He looked up at you with his sly smile and licked his lips.

'You're so sexy, babe,' he said softly before he got back up. Sihtric spun you around and pulled you against his chest, making you dance with him. You smiled at the feeling of his warm skin against your back, as his hands moved from your thighs up to your waist. Sihtric was breathing heavily in your ear as he pulled your hips against his, grinding his hard cock against your ass while moving your bodies to the beat. You brought your arms up, behind his head, softly brushing your fingers through his hair as you both rolled your hips, desperate to fuck to the beat. You danced until the song ended and, to both your surprise, suddenly transitioned into Beyoncé's Partition. 

You stopped your moves and both knew the tables had turned at that exact moment, and you immediately told him to take off his jeans. And as he did, you grabbed a pack of condoms out of a drawer.

You pushed Sihtric back towards the chair, making him sit down and you quickly straddled his lap. You kissed his lips sloppily and raked your hands through his short hair, earning a few moans and hisses as you pulled his hair and sucked his lower lip before you broke the kiss.

You took his hands and moved them from your shoulders to your, still covered, breasts and down to your hips. And then you slowly leaned back, all the way, until you nearly faced the floor upside down, allowing Sihtric to see your entire body as he held your hips, keeping you in place on his lap.

'Fuck, baby,' Sihtric breathed hard as he watched you move your hands back over your breasts, all the way to your panties, teasing him by sliding your hand down in your panties and playing with yourself for a few seconds as he watched. You heard him groan and you giggled as you moved yourself back up, biting his ear softly after you asked him to take off your bra. Sihtric struggled to unhook it, which made you both chuckle, but once loose, you took it off and held it up to him.

'Wanna have this?' you grinned when he nodded. 'Then take it… with your teeth, bad boy.'

Sihtric's eyes darkened even more and did as he was told. You watched him, with a satisfied smile on your face, and he quickly sat back, with your bra strap clenched between his teeth, tilting his head slightly with a smirk, awaiting your next command. You got up and told him to take off his boxers, which he did without wasting any more time, after he threw your bra onto his pile of clothes, so he wouldn't forget to take it with him later.

You grabbed his heavy, black bunker coat off the floor and walked back to him.

'On your knees, handsome' you said, 'and take off my panties.'

He gave you a cheeky smile with questioning eyes as he looked up at you.

'With your teeth, bad boy,' you answered with a smirk and he returned the look before he, again, did what you ordered him to do. He managed to pull your panties down with his teeth rather smoothly and he kissed your legs after, to which you gave him a soft shove with your knee, which told him to behave.

'Chair,' you said curtly. Sihtric was happy to obey and sat back on the chair, after he had thrown your panties towards his own clothes; he was taking all he could tonight, including you. 

You handed him a condom as you put on his large, heavy jacket, to which Sihtric licked his lips when he looked back up at you. His smile was gone and had made place for a look of burning desire.

Beyoncé faded away through the speakers and, as you finally sank down on his hard cock, Billy Idol's Soul Standing By started playing, to which you both grinned as you adjusted to each other.

'I'm wild for you,' Sihtric whispered the lyrics in your ear along with the song, and he chuckled. You smiled and rocked your hips, slowly, enjoying his cock inside you as deep as possible.

'Treat me right, babe,' you sighed along with the lyrics, and looked down in his eyes as you were riding him.

Sihtric moaned and murmured some lyrics, 'Oh baby, pretty baby, I'll make it last all night.' Proving once again that the lyrics made for a perfect response as the song continued.

Sihtric pulled you close by tugging his jacket, and you rocked your hips harder and faster while you kissed him. His hands slipped under the warm, heavy coat, and he just couldn't get enough of you. Your hearts were pounding out of your chests when you looked at each other; hot and sweaty, with heavy-lidded eyes and slightly parted lips, curled into a faint smile, while you both moaned soft yet heavy. Your hands moved all over each other as you fucked on that simple chair, and you smiled when you realised you were wearing a firefighter's, heavy jacket, while the firefighter who it belonged to filled you up perfectly with his cock.

You rested your forehead against his, while being torn between wanting to make hard, rough love with him or taking it slow, keeping him close while you fell in love with the handsome man, who had lit a fire inside you the first time you had met. Sihtric struggled too, wanting to pick you up and bend you over that chair, making you scream out his name, while also wanting to hear your soft moans in his ear as he held you close. You both knew it all depended on whatever song would blast through your speakers next.

You let out a sigh and smiled when you heard the first few notes of Heaven Tonight by HIM. Sihtric shared your reaction, knowing the song just as well as you did.

'Come here, baby,' Sihtric moaned as he pulled you closer, his arms keeping you snug against him.

'You feel so good, babe,' you moaned softly in his ear as you wrapped your arms around his neck, making slow, sweet, pure and almost emotional love with him. Sihtric moved one hand up in your hair and kept one arm around your waist, holding you as close as possible while he buried his face in your neck, softly pecking your skin as he enjoyed the way you took him all in. You fucked, slow and deep, murmuring sweet nothings in between kisses, and you both wished this bliss would last forever, but you soon reached your highs. 

You loved the soft, deep groans you got out of him along with his ragged breath, and Sihtric could listen to your soft giggles forever, which you let him hear just after you had finished, simply feeling overwhelmed with the man in your arms.

You held each other tight for a moment, enjoying the sound of your heavy breaths as the song you had made sweet love to was fading out, only to both break out in soft laughter when AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long suddenly started to play.

'They got that right,' Sihtric chuckled and looked up at you, taken aback by your beauty in such a vulnerable moment.

'They do,' you smiled, looking into his eyes, not believing someone could be this breathtaking.

'Be mine, baby?' Sihtric whispered as he nuzzled your nose softly, 'will you be mine?'

'I want to…' you looked away from him, 'I'm just… your job, it…'

'Scares you?'

You nodded lightly and Sihtric sighed.

'I know,' he smiled weakly, 'it's always a problem when it comes to relationships.'

'No, I don't mean that I don't want to be yours, I just think… I-I need help to… cope?'

'You should join me for a work dinner next week, you know, meet the wives and girlfriends of my colleagues. They had the same struggle as you when they started dating, but they overcame it. And I'm sure they will like you.'

'I like that idea,' you smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

*************

'So…' you grinned when Sihtric got out of your bathroom later that night, freshly showered, and joined you in your bed, 'are those stripteases a regular thing?'

'Maybe,' Sihtric shrugged with a smirk, 'but I think when your Meow Meow comes back home again tomorrow it will not be the same.' 

'That is true,' you agreed, 'hey, I think our cats should meet too.'

'They should. At some point,' Sihtric smiled, 'but I am not ready for that chaos yet. I want to have you all for myself first.'

'Don't you need to go home and feed your cat?' you frowned.

'I probably should,' he chuckled, 'but I don't want to leave you. Will you come with me?'

'But it's already late.'

'Stay the night with me then?'

You pretended you had to think long and hard about his offer. But then you smiled and kissed him. And Sihtric already knew he'd make love to you again later, but this time, it would be in his bed.

*****************

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[itshermocrates]

POISON- Ep. 4 Analysis

I have no idea if someone has already done something like this but these two unfortunate souls have been in my mind since I watched the show TWO WEEKS AGO. So I'm gonna share with you this personal analysis of what we saw during the Poison scene in Ep. 4 of Hazbin Hotel.

Again, I don’t know if anyone has already talked about this (I’m not very active on tumblr), but I think that what we see as Angel sings Poison is made not only to tell us how the relationship Angel has with Valentino is but ALSO how it came to be thanks to everything that's happening on screen while he's singing.

Of course the lyrics are also important so I’ll make some reference to those as well, but I’ll focus mainly on what we see. Since I can only add 30 pics in this post this will be a bit difficult but I will try my best.

SOME CONTENT WARNINGS! I'm not sure if this is even necessary but anyways,,, Pychological abuse, abuse, violence, domestic violence, drugs, addiction, sex work, dubius consent, sexual violence, abusive relationship, unhealthy power dynamics, angst, suicidal ideas (hinted), etc.

Now, without further ado, let's begin!

Before the song, Valentino and Angel have a fight in his dressing room. I want to start here because during that fight Angel gets a black eye and we get to see how the walls of his room are filled, not only by security cameras, but also by a lot of eyes that follow Angel wherever he goes inside the room. We will see more of these eyes soon enough.

After that fight Angel sends Charlie back home and we see a bit more of what we could expect from Valentino with his manipulation tactics. The sweet tone and the praise as he embraces Angel from behind, too close and too intimate considering he will be soon forcing him to go back to work.

These are the tricks every abuser uses to manipulate and control the people around them, and it’s what Valentino uses all the time with Angel.

This is the behavior of an abusive boyfriend, a dynamic they have in the present, but once Poison starts, we are presented with their backstory. Now we will get to see how that dynamic is even possible, how these two ended up together and how their relationship started and evolved.

Valentino sits next to the movie director and everyone starts moving to prepare the scene they are about to film. He is the one in control here, the one calling for action again and deciding who does what and when. And just like that we see how Angel's black eye is concealed by makeup, erasing the marks of what had just happened and metaphorically erasing the violence of the relationship he is in now.

Angel closes his eyes in displeasure, focusing on what Valentino wants from him. When he opens his eyes again, his expression is completely different, this Angel without bruises, is not only a version of him from minutes ago, before the fight with Val, or even prior to the abuse… This is the Angel before Valentino.

He walks backwards, as if he was going back in time, moving easily with the playful shamelessness that characterized him back then. When he sings “I’m not above a love to cash in” he was most likely referring to his past as a sex worker or at least, as someone who didn’t mind to sell his affections to get what he needed/wanted. During this time, he would most likely go clubbing every night, since it offered a good way to earn easy money while he had a great time, partying, drinking, consuming…

Angel probably was the type of person who used those who desired him to get whatever he wanted, a game he knew how to play. Even if it could get risky or inconvenient, he was a free soul, he was still in control of what he did or didn't do with all those people, so at the end of the day, he always won. That’s what he believes as he playfully lays back on the setting’s bed again.

That had always been true after all, or at least it was until he came across someone that beated him at his own game. Someone who would take that freedom and control over his own body away from him.

His expression changes again to one of terror when a shadow looms over his body from outside the frame. That’s the silhouette of the men he was previously filming with, but we can also imagine that this figure suddenly changing the way he moves, reacts and feels, was meant to represent Valentino.

After the other actors surround him, and the scene fades to black, we are shown what could have been Angel's previous workplace. A stripclub where he danced for money and probably engaged in sex work in a somewhat safe and controlled environment. Back then he had become popular enough to be "the star" of his own show, and a performer good enough to get a reputation that would eventually reach the ears of one of the most powerful overlords in that district.

Valentino discovered him maybe by chance, or maybe not. Maybe he had heard of Angel Dust and wanted to see for himself if this dancer was as good and pretty as all those people said. And after watching him perform Valentino was the furthest from disappointed, he had enjoyed the show so much that he decided to take a closer look at this Angel Dust’s skills.

He approaches him, maybe as a client, or maybe just as a guy interested in what he had to offer, and although Angel doesn't trust him at first, he ends up entering his game.

He was just another man who wanted to fuck him, one that had enough money to spoil him all he had ever wanted and more. It was quite the opportunity for someone as low in the food chain as him, and Angel had already played with rich men like Valentino before, he knew what he was doing.

So Angel took the bait, and had sex with Valentino. Probably a blowjob in that same club he danced at that served as a test for Valentino.

Now we have a scene with two Valentinos, one that is about to get head from Angel with a video camera on his hand, and another Val standing behind the cameras and lights of what we now know to be another movie set. The first Val we saw, extending his hand before Angel when he finished his performance, was the Val of his past, the one he sucked off the night they met. That was someone Angel thought to be somewhat honest, or, at the very least a man he heavily underestimated.

It's the playful man that winks seductively at him in the set from afar with those red hot eyes he fell for, the same that quickly turns into a different guy with similar clothes (red jacket and white fur) now recording him on set. Someone who quickly became a stranger to Angel, just as he is for us, since we can’t even see his face.

The second Val it's the real one, the one standing next to the movie director watching everything with calculating eyes and a dangerous smile. That's the man who told Angel all those red hot lies he believed to be true, and the one judging with this first meeting if the spider was a worthy investment or not.

Angel proves to be good enough. Valentino likes him, and after that night he starts to actively pursue Angel but he didn’t do that as a simple client. He can tell Angel isn't a common whore, he has talent, charisma and he's been playing this game for long enough to know all the tricks. One can only become so successful in this world knowing how to play their cards well.

It’s obvious then what he has to do to turn Angel into his next movie star. Valentino needs to make him fall in love with him and make him believe that Valentino can love him just as much. This is exactly what he is going to do.

On screen we see how Valentino's sex pollen (he's a moth guys, it has to be sex pollen) starts to fill the scene, and as it expands it engulfs Angel, making us know just how captivated, how absorbed he will end up being.

Note: I know there’s a theory that says that Valentino’s power comes from his saliva or something like that and I haven’t read it or anything, but I do believe the smoke/fog that surrounds him has the same effect as the “sex pollen” trope. Or at least it’s similar.

The red fog expands all over the frame, emphasizing Valentino’s overpowering skills and charisma. When it clears, we see Angel in a different place while he sings the second line of the lyrics “What’s the worst part of this hell, I can only blame myself”.

His expression is one of pure anguish and regret, and he’s saying this while standing in front of Valentino in his apartment. He's talking about how naive he was for believing all of Valentino's lies, to truly believe that what he felt for Angel was love. He blames himself for buying this love story and falling for him so hard it made him very easy to manipulate. He regrets not having seen it before it was too late.

Because when Valentino’s back appears at the left corner of the frame, with an extended hand and smoke-made chains, it’s Angel the one who finally cuts the distance and accepts the chains Val is offering him.

Angel was too blinded by Valentino’s courting, by his sweet words and lovely gestures, but also by the constant push and pull of their dynamic, the flirting, the teases, the seduction. He loved the attention and he loved the sense of control, of power, he could feel when he was with Valentino, an overlord no less, a demon so rich and powerful he could have anyone he could have ever wanted. But Val had chosen him, him of all people.

This brief initial moment represents the regret he feels when he remembers how it all started, when Angel thinks about the beginning of their relationship, a time when everything seemed fine and their sexual chemistry made him lose all sense of reason. Because with Val everything ended up leading him to his bed.

After this short display of regret, we are presented a sequence made to represent the fantasy Angel indulged himself in, an illusion tinted in pink colors and fun costumes. This is the story Valentino had carefully created for him to make him fall in love with him, a story that made the spider feel so good when he was by his side, he could easily excuse any warning sign in his sight.

Because Angel would obviously want to be with Valentino when all he knew about him was his lover persona, a facade that portrayed him as a passionate lover and playful partner, his (soon to be) poison.

They had fun and even when Valentino showed little fragments of his true intentions and personality, Angel was too blinded to notice that he was starting to lose the very game he had considered himself a master of. Valentino and the relationship Angel had with him was addictive, so it didn't matter what happened, Angel always came back. You can think of this as the result of Valentino’s sex pollen, his charisma or a combination of both, depending on what flavor of angst is your favorite.

What we can know for sure, is that they were both performers in their own ways, both players in the game of love, so Angel could have excused and normalized a lot of things he shouldn't have. Knowing their line of work, of course that they could get a bit too intense every now and then, of course things could get a bit out of hand between them, they were just sooo dramatic.

It was that rollercoaster of emotions, the raw intensity of it all what ended up hooking Angel so much. The playfulness that could get a bit dangerous really fast, even if the Valentino he thought he knew would never really hurt him. Right?

A few little details I like about this sequence are the way we get to see Valentino’s home in the background and how the colors of his clothes and body are darker than usual but still lighter in comparison to what we will see in the following scenes, indicating how this was still the “nice” version of Valentino.

In the same way, Angel is playing with the chains bounding his wrists together, not his neck (yet), telling us that he’s playing with fire, quite literally dancing with the idea of being owned by Val, but he is still a free soul. In this moment he was falling hard and quick for Valentino’s lies, but he wasn’t his captive yet.

He’s having fun while being manhandled by Valentino, both physically and emotionally, but he still thinks of it as a game, another part of their sex life and how they naturally work as a couple. It’s exciting, it’s new and Angel loves it.

Not knowing that the longer he stays the more power is giving Val over him. Valentino is starting to show his true colors, in these last frames we can see that his figure is getting darker as Angel is slowly discovering the manipulative side of Val, the controlling and abusive nature he had been hiding from the spider since the beginning.

The push and pull continues as we see their silhouettes dancing, even if in reality this is Valentino pulling from his side of the chain to keep Angel close, to keep him with him.

After the shadows sequence, we get back to the playfulness Angel had shown when he took the chains for himself and started to tease Valentino. Only that this time, Val’s colors are darker and his touch more possessive, more aggressive. He’s groping him and even choking him while Angel sings “I made my choice and every night I’m living like there’s no tomorrow” with a grin, showing us how this was still a game for him.

He made his choice staying with Val because he loved him and he thought he was loved in return, when the moth had been only toying with him from the moment they first saw each other. This is Angel’s greatest regret, the fact that he truly believed Val’s lies, that despite all the warning signs he kept choosing him over and over again.

Choosing to stay, to kneel before Val, to obey him with the promise of a new wave of pleasure, a new high. Just as Valentino wanted him to do as we can see the vicious smile he wears during this entire sequence.

I think the next couple of seconds tells us how, for a while, they were together and Angel was still able to keep his job at the club. He was still allowed to see his friends (his coworkers most likely) and spend time with them, while Valentino made sure to feed all his previous bad habits and addictions, giving him gifts (we know Fat Nuggets was a gift from Val), a lot of money he could spend on a whim and eventually, probably the substances to use as well.

The smile on his face, the smugness of it, makes me think he’s telling his friends about this rich guy that pampers him in every way and treats him like a prince. He has found the ultimate Sugar Daddy, a man that has changed his life forever in the best way possible. Now he can have whatever he wants, party for days without having to worry about not having enough money to eat at the end of the month or a place to stay.

Angel would have used drugs before, maybe occasionally, maybe only at parties, maybe to get the worst bits of his job done, maybe he was already a bit of an addict, but it’s now, when he has the means to consume every night that he definitely becomes one.

Valentino made sure of it.

During this time, Valentino would secure the control he had over Angel, weakening his mind and will by worsening his addiction problem while continuing convincing him of how much he loved him. The parties were incredible, the sex was amazing, and Angel felt on top of the world at every moment. He was “living like there’s no tomorrow” without realizing the higher he raised above the ground, the hardest would be his fall.

And maybe this is just me over analyzing a kinky moment, but after this, after Valentino bites Angel causing him a wince of pain and maybe even making him bleed, everything changes.

They are having sex, far from the flashing lights, they are together as Anthony and Val, as the real person who oftenly hides behind his stage persona. The person who is deeply in love with Valentino, who is vulnerable and allows his lover to hurt him however he wants because he trusts that the pleasure that follows will be worth it.

But after that bite, he’s no longer in bed with Val, he's in the same bed from the very beginning of this music video, surrounded by lights, disoriented and confused… As if he was expecting Valentino to be between his legs and not this stranger.

When he finally comes to his senses and sits, we hear for the first time the line “My story’s gonna end with me dead from your poison”. This was the beginning of the end of their honeymoon phase and the point of no return. Valentino had considered Angel weakened enough to take a step further, and a new part of him is finally uncovered when he carefully introduces Angel to the porn industry. He would do so (probably) while Angel was too intoxicated and definitely too blindly in love to know what he was doing.

Valentino becomes this overwhelming shadow that covers Angel’s body, a silhouette he can’t escape from, and when we are shown what Angel sees, we can no longer see the color of Valentino’s clothes. His colorful persona, his facade of playful lover it’s no longer in place, he has stopped pretending and acting as the good boyfriend the spider had always wanted. Now before Angel there’s only the demon that owns thousands of souls, a vicious drooling smile and sharp red eyes. An overlord to fear and be intimidated by.

The background is filled with filming equipment, and even if Valentino’s body language is meant to appear welcoming, Angel feels terrified. This is not the Valentino he knew, and now he is completely trapped. He can’t refuse now, this is a choice he is being forced to make even if his soul still technically belongs to him.

After being pressured, Angel becomes part of this industry, and although he doesn’t really like it, he still trusts Valentino enough to not run away. The overlord can be scary, but he still believes that he’s safe with him, that if Val is by his side nothing wrong could ever happen to him. And after all, he had done sex work before, right? What difference did it make to fuck strangers for money in front of a camera now?

He’s not comfortable, and every day that intimidating side of Valentino that wasn’t really there before grows darker, fiercer and scarier. Angel had seen the ugliness of Valentino before, as a man, as a possessive boyfriend, as a controlling partner, but never as the powerful demon he truly was. So he still obeys Val and features in a few movies of his choice.

We can see these doubts, Angel’s discomfort and even a bit of his trust in Valentino at the beginning of the next sequence, when they appear on the set of a different movie.

Angel was a performer, he had faked his own pleasure before, he could do it again now, and he could do it while earning way more money. He could do so, because he knew Valentino was there, guiding him, helping him, making sure his lover was safe. He always thought that Val was looking out for him, making sure he was getting the right roles in the right movies, the right contracts, and when he was nervous, Valentino was right by his side to comfort him.

But Valentino had never cared about Angel’s safety. And once Angel started to voice his doubts or show his discomfort, he made sure he couldn’t do it for much longer. The comfort Angel sought for was quickly replaced by something chemical, something that eased his nerves but also left him dazed and disoriented.

It was then that Valentino drugged him, tricked him and made him sign the contract that would leave him with only half a soul inside his chest.

Valentino had fed Angel’s addiction for a long time, adding to the mix not only the illusion of a love story, but also his own drug, his sex pollen, something that numbed the spider’s mind enough to go through all the things Valentino wanted him to do in front of the camera. Oftenly Angel was left too intoxicated to respond, too vulnerable and weak. In his last moments of lucidity he always could see Valentino, his lover, the man he thought would always take care of him, turning his back to him and leave him.

Valentino is the last thing he sees before everything fades to black around him, before he disappears. He’s no longer Anthony or Angel Dust, the stage persona, now the lines between those two different identities blurry beyond repair, and the person he becomes is a little more Angel Dust and a lot less Anthony.

I don’t think that it was just a coincidence that they used a BDSM scene to represent the moment Angel definitely lost control of his actions, his body and most likely also his soul. BDSM is all about power dynamics and the control that’s exchanged between consenting partners, only that, in this case, Angel didn’t really have a choice and there was no consent. This lack of control and safety is emphasized precisely by the type of session Angel is forced into.

He’s restrained in every way possible, he’s tied up, a blindfold covers his eyes and a gag is forced onto his mouth, one that would prevent him from closing it no matter how much he tried. He has no way to end the scene, no way to say a safeword, to complain or to stop what other people do with him or to him.

This is meant to represent the moment he signed the contract, and how he felt every time he entered the set of a new movie after he signed it. He stopped being his own person, he had disappeared, and what had been left of him was nothing but a sex toy for Valentino to control in each of his productions.

Now we see the Angel Dust that survived this state of numbness and dissociation, the one that has consumed Anthony just so he could keep himself alive.

While Angel Dust dances, seemingly enjoying the show, performing as he has always done, in the background screens we see what’s left of Anthony, of the boy feeling trapped and used with no single way out of it. This is accompanied by more fragments of that BDSM scene that changed it all, since that was a traumatic event that repeats itself in Angel’s mind every time Valentino forces him into a new role, a new movie, a new lie.

These frames show us not only the stress Angel is feeling, but also how Valentino is always there to exploit his body in the way he deems more profitable. We know this because he appears in between Angel’s anguish, but also because the same eyes that covered his dressing room walls are in the background while someone fucks Angel from behind.

While this happens we hear again “I made my choice”, a reminder of Angel’s regrets, shame and guilt. In addition the line “Every night I’m living like there’s no tomorrow” now has slightly changed, indicating the shift in Angel’s life and condition as no longer a free soul. What we hear now is  “Every night I’m wasted like there’s no tomorrow”.

Where once he was happy, he’s now desperate, begging to get a way out.

We see a bit more of the playful performer, Angel Dust, and the pain of Anthony in the background before Valentino approaches him again like a great imposing figure, putting an end to his show.

The second Angel notices Valentino, distress becomes clear all over his face. He points to the left, outside of what we can see, and when he tries to escape, Valentino grabs him and pulls him closer.

He has finally come face to face with the real Valentino in all his twisted glory and he wants to run away. He knows now that what they had wasn’t love, it had never been, and it’s painful. But he’s afraid of Valentino, he can’t do anything to escape his contract and he now belongs to him (at least while they’re on set).

That last frame with Valentino embracing him, a vicious smile on his face in contrast with Angel’s terrified expression puts an end to their story, to the narration of how they came to be what they are now. After that, we are presented to the aftermath, the Angel that’s no longer intoxicated by his poison and can only dread the many past choices he would like to change.

He is now fully aware that there’s no way out of his hell, that for as long as he is alive he will be Valentino’s toy. He’s destroyed in every way, his mind is a mess too dependent on the drugs Valentino has been feeding him to properly think, and his body has stopped to feel as his own a long time ago.

How could he consider that pile of bones, fur and chemically loosen up muscles as his own? He’s disgusted, drowning in this feeling of helplessness.

And he’s even more grossed out when he notices the remains of Valentino’s poison, his drug, still lingering on his tongue. He’s so lost, he doesn’t even recognize himself. This is not where he was supposed to be, he shouldn’t be in Valentino’s apartment, he doesn’t want to be there anymore.

The substance that once had brought him so much joy, such a delicious bliss, now slips past his lips burning his skin like acid. The itch reminds him of the reason why he’s there, and he can only feel pain. The only cause for most of his problems had always been his addiction. To Val, the sex they had, his poison, the drugs he bought for him…

No matter how hard he tries to get used to this life he has with Val now, he simply can’t do it. It doesn’t matter how many movies he appears in, they are never enough, they will never be enough for the overlord. Because he’s nothing but a tool to make Valentino and the other Vs even richer and more powerful.

That’s Valentino’s business and what initially made him get close to Vox. They complimented each other and together they felt capable of ruling Hell like that was their birthright. A power Angel would never get to know firsthand, because for Valentino he was nothing but another whore to use, exploit and eventually discard.

Angel is sick of it, is tired of living a life he hates, a lonely life full of pain and abuse, all caused by the person he loved the most.

He has spent years trapped in the V Tower, watched by the countless cameras placed in every wall and every corner of his prison. Even when he’s not on set, controlled by Valentino and his team, he feels Vox lenses following all of his movements, and despite the luxury he lives in, every day he goes to sleep wishing to never wake up.

That's all, folks. I hope you liked it, or at least got as sad as I felt while analyzing this. Again this is all what I could understand from that segment of the episode I don't know if y'all already knew this but I did wanted to share it. If you liked this check my bird app account bc there is where I spend most of my online time or my Ao3 profile, although I post mostly Skfs content now <3

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