#let me be a dust particle in my next life

[sweetblinginrose]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

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The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

#d&d #dungeons and dragons #dungeons #dragons #dungeons and daddies #enemies to lovers #enemies #enemies to friends to lovers #fanfic #eddie #eddie munson #oneshot #one shot #eddiemunson #eddie munson writing #eddie munson enemies to lovers #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson story #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things 4

[nnight-dances]

SWEET BOY

PAIRING: lee seokmin x f!reader (ft. choi vernon)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: older brother figure to lover, childhood friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, jealousy, skinship, dk being a blushy idiot and you being a plain idiot.

lines are funny when it comes to your life. lines drawn from one point to another, lines forced to keep your work life and your personal life, but most important the big daunting line between you and your crush of nearly two years now, dokyeom. 

it's funny, it really is, given how much time you've spent riling yourself up over him, telling yourself that he should retain the role he always had in your life: the older brother figure. because dokyeom's heart-warmingly kind, no even more so– blood-curdingly kind, painfully nice to everyone he meets, patient beyond imagination. he's worse than any nice guys you've met, simply because he fits the archetype too well to be real. 

"don't you get tired?" you ask him, when he shows up at your door, clutching bags of take-out food, no doubt after hearing from your mom how you haven't had a chance to eat. yet, you'd emphasized to her after you'd made the mistake of letting her know you were too busy to cook. 

"shouldn't i be asking you that?" dokyeom grunts as he lets himself into your house, familiar with the place like the back of his hand. "i know mr. ko called you in and gave you an earful for missing the last deadline, but that's no excuse to skip meals."

okay, worth mentioning is the fact that while you knew dokyeom since childhood thanks to the fact that you grew up in the same household, you'd also ended up moving to the city to sign a contract with the publishing company where he worked at, as an editor. it was half a coincidence, because you can't say you sought out the company simply on its merits. 

you sigh as you stretch out a crick in your neck, "i'm not doing this because mr. ko told me to. i'm fine, i'm just trying to clear up my schedule before the end of the year. god knows i don't want to be working on new year's eve."

"and you won't," dokyeom takes off his coat, revealing a light blue sweater underneath, one that you've grown fond of. it's a sweet sweater, for a sweet man. 

"well, thanks, anyway. for the food. sorry if my mom pestered you into doing this."

"i don't want to hear a word out of you till you've eaten."

you obey him silently, taking out the lukewarm bánh mì from its bag and starting to eat. dokyeom watches with a slight smile, noting how your hair was in a ponytail, a rare occurrence. just another indication that you were forcing yourself to work too hard. 

"what am i going to with you…" he muses to himself, slowly tidying up the mess on your writing corner. the little wooden table you'd spent hours studying and testing before buying, is crowded with stationery and a few notebooks. your laptop sits blank, screen indicating that it was close to dying. dokyeom brushes off the stray balls of napkins off and into the small trashcan next to the chair, followed by all the tiny eraser dust particles. he's just plugged in your laptop when he hears you call out his name softly. 

"hmm?" he calls back. "you want some coffee?" you ask and when dokyeom arches a brow at you, you wave your empty hands, "i'm done eating! can a girl not want a warm liquid post-meal?"

"fine, fine. i'll have some, thanks." he laughs as you glare at him, mumbling incoherencies about him. 

"oh, right, i almost forgot to tell you," dokyeom pulls out his phone, ten minutes later when the two of you are settled on the couch, waiting for your steaming mugs to settle down a little. "there's a department-wide party this sunday, an end of year gathering or something. you should come, i hear the budget this year's crazy. it's at a fancy hotel and everything."

you narrow your eyes at dokyeom, "i don't know about that. work parties are a slog, dude. i can't stand to get drunk with the people who literally torture the creativity out of me."

"that's harsh, y/n. and an exaggeration."

"whatever…" you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, "i… i don't even have a date. it's kind of a short notice to find someone anyway–"

"i'll be your date," dokyeom offers, faster than either of you could comprehend his response. his ears flush, "um, i mean, i'll go with you, if you don't… mind."

"why would i mind? i just thought you'd have someone to go with already," you say and when you catch the shy look on your friend's face, "unless of course, nobody's asked you. which i totally understand."

"hey! i don't want to take names but i've had to tell some people no already. so don't–"

"oh? so you rejected the people who did ask you? i thought you were too nice to do that. "

"yeah, i did. i didn't want to go with them. i don't know them well enough to guarantee they'll be fun for the entire night. plus, it's messy going with someone from work. you agree once, who's to say they'll keep asking you for life?"

"i'm someone from work, too," you point out, averting your gaze to the coffee, watching the evaporation swirl around. 

"you're different, silly," dokyeom chuckles out, arm hitting yours, "we're already messy. i knew you before work, and i'll know you long after. we're more than that, you know?"

that? whatever he meant, you find your heart soaring ever so much, "hm, i suppose you're not wrong. fine, i'll come to the party." if it's with you. 

that night you find yourself obsessing over this conversation. what did dk mean we're already messy? you were messy? you knew he didn't mean that like a bad thing but the word unsettled you anyway. your feelings for him only made it harder to listen to him objectively, especially when he says stuff like we're more than that. more than what, exactly?

– 

dokyeom's having a hell of a day, carrying around a headache he's had since this morning and a heavy to-do list that doesn't seem to be going anywhere despite the fact that he's been at his desk for about five hours now. he sits back with a grunt, taking his eyes off his screen for a moment to take a break. 

as soon as he tunes back into the physical world around him, he overhears his coworkers chatting near his desk, instant coffeee in hand. 

"yo, you're kidding! how'd you get her number finally?" ren, a newbie, elbows the man next to him. vernon, the man in question, is grinning too wide for his own good. 

"i just asked her for it. i told her i had some important doubts about her new manuscript."

"that didn't annoy her?"

"nah, y/n's chill like that. she was super nice about it, too, telling me she would love to hear from me."

ren gasps dramatically, "no way, do you think she–"

dokyeom clears his throat with a start, having had enough as an eavesdropper for the day. he stands up, making eye-contact with vernon who shoots him a nonchalant smile. it pisses dokyeom off, how wasn't he bothered? 

his headache's only getting worse so he decides to get himself something to eat while he's at it. some fresh air might help him. he shoots the pair a stiff smile as he leaves the office, hand clutching his phone a little too hard. as he gets into the elevator, he's alerted of a message.

speak of the devil, he thinks when your name pops up on his screen. am i expected to dress formal for this party? you ask. 

only if u want to :) he shoots back.

… what kind of an answer is that. 

an honest one. expectations are only as high as you want them to be.

you know i hate you right 

enough to ask me to be ur date? <3 <3 

you're befuddled on the other side of the chat, "who asked who?" you mumble, choosing to not respond to dokyeom's frustrating reply to your very genuine question. 

dokyeom, on the other hand, is feeling much better now that he's had a chance to talk to you. where you're reserved about your feelings for him, dokyeom really couldn't be more transparent about them. or so he thinks. but really, he's convinced he couldn't be clearer about how he feels about you– instantaneous responses to your texts, making sure you eat on time, corresponding with your mom to reassure her of your good health, careful attention to what you're into at the time so he can buy you the things you refuse to splurge on. 

to dokyeom, this was the clearest confession of his love for you. the only reason he hasn't vocalized it in person is because he doubts any good would come out of it. he's more than happy with the relationship he has with you, a safe enough distance but a warm closeness anyway. besides, he's pretty certain you think of him as more of a brother than anything. an older brother figure you've known since you were children. better to keep things the way they were. right?

– 

dokyeom's increasily unsure about his convictions to keep things the same. maybe it had something to do with the fact that you look breathtaking tonight. you're adorned in the prettiest pink dress, eyes sparkling more than usual thanks to the glitter you'd dabbed on and hair cascading down to your shoulders in curls that has him a little weak in the knees.

he does visibly gape at you when you greet him at the door with a small smile. he's flustered enough to be out of words so you're left speaking to a shell of him. "hey, you're a little earlier than i imagined. i'm almost ready. come in though." 

when he stands still despite your invitation, you frown. "dokyeom?" he bites his lip as he comes to and nods, walking in after you. "you good?"

"yeah, just a little nervous."

"nervous?" 

"you look really pretty," he musters, reddening when your eyes widen at his honest confession, "i'm a little dizzy." the two statements are correlated but you don't pick up on that, instead becomes concerned. you take his arm and your cold touch on his arm only sends him further down his dazed condition.

"dizzy? that's no good. come sit," you pull him to the couch, making him take a seat. god, dokyeom thinks he's dreaming when you touch his cheek, "do you need medicine? warm tea? water?"

he clears his throat, "n-no, i'm fine," he lets himself fall against the cushions, closing his eyes against the rush in his veins. "just– you should go get ready. i'll be back to normal soon."

you look at him in confusion for a prolonged few seconds before giving up and doing as he said. when you come back, you have a lip gloss and heels on. "okay," you announce to the back of dokyeom's head, "i'm ready, dk."

he sits up quickly, head clearing up now. he turns around to you and smiles a cheerful smile that is much more like him. "alright! let's go!" 

you watch him warily anyway, all the way to his car. "ah, your hair–" you reach out to the back of his head where some hair stuck out from his earlier meltdown. gently, you brush the disturbances away, fingers swift in their adminstrations. dokyeom thinks he might break down again, the gesture making him feel giddy all over again. it doesn't help when he feels your warm breath on his neck when you sigh, returning to your seat. "ok, no more hair casualities, we are set to go."

dokyeom can't afford to look up at you so he simply starts the car, keeping his head straight so he can drive the both of you to the venue safely. 

being in a room bustling with people he knows really helps dokyeom, for as soon as you reach the hall, he takes off in a rush, something about having to greet everyone that's important. you don't know to feel about his flight but you manage to shrug it off, trusting him enough to know he'll be back before long. 

you station yourself near the refreshments, finding yourself a flute of champagne and some hors d'oeuvres to keep you company while dokyeom does what he does. you find yourself mildly enjoying yourself, people-watching all sorts of groups and downing your second serving of champagne, when you're joined by someone. 

it's kitty, a coworker you're less than fond of, thanks to her loud mouth and overwhelming beauty. she's dressed in an immaculate white dress, face glowing even in the harsh light as she smiles at you. "y/n!"

"kitty," you acknowledge her with a cordial nod of your own, hoping this wouldn't take too long.

"how've you been? you look much better than the last time i saw, so not too bad i hope!"

your smile sours, "i'm fine, kitty. nice to see you're feeling as chatty as usual." 

"i am! what better ocassion than a party to be social," she remarks pointedly and you contain a sigh. kitty was an important coworker, unfortunately for you, with her in charge for your public image and general likeability. it really should be criminal how little she likes you for someone who has to make sure you appeal to the masses. 

"i didn't even think i'd see you around. you have a date?"

"i'm here with dokyeom, yeah." 

this seems to startle kitty, because she's speechless for a moment. "dokyeom? he said yes to you?"

ignoring whatever undertones of disbelief kitty's giving off, you roll your eyes, "it was more that he forced me to come with him, but yeah, sure, however you wanna say it." 

"wow, dokyeom's really kind to do that. he even turned me down. he must really treasure your friendship."

now you've had enough of her insinuations, so you cut the chat short. "sorry, kitty, i need to use the bathroom. excuse me." 

you break away from her, feeling the weight of her glare at your aloofness. you really don't care for her snarky remarks usual, long-accustomed to the kind of gossip she likes to generate. but tonight, your tolerance was low. you didn't want to think about why dokyeom asked you to come to the party, and you certainly didn't want kitty's suggestions marinate in your mind. but it's too late, you feel your chest tighten at the thought of dokyeom feeling pity for you, asking you to come because that's just how kind he was, and you, his best charity case. 

dokyeom spots you from across the room where he's eventually recovered from his weak condition. he feels guilt spike through his veins when he sees you storm away from kitty, who's no doubt spewed some obnoxious nonsense to make you leave the room with that tense expression of yours.

he excuses himself from his conversation to run off after you, managing to catch you as you leave the hall. 

"y/n!" he calls out, catching ahold of your shoulder. "where are you going?" 

you stop, startled by dokyeom's interception. you slowly turn around, trying your best to neutralize your expression. "um, just using the bathroom. i drank that champagne a little too fast." 

"oh, you sure you're okay? i saw you talking to kitty earlier and i know how frustrating she can be."

you laugh mirthlessly, "i'll be okay as long as i don't run into her in the next five months or so." you turn away, presumably toward the washroom. you'd hoped your explanation would be enough to soothe dokyeom's curiosity but then you hear him follow after you. 

"dk?"

"i'll go with you."

"to the washroom?" 

"uh, yeah. i'll walk you in case you can't find your way back."

"they have signs everywhere and the party's in the biggest hall here– i– whatever, i need to pee too bad to argue with you right now." 

from thereon, dokyeom doesn't leave your side for a second. you don't know what to think of it but you don't complain because your mood's much better when you spend your time by his side, shitting on the ocassional passerby and laughing at each other's jokes. 

dokyeom regrets leaving you by yourself in the first place, especially because he's almost too certain that kitty had told you he'd turned her invitation down. it was awkward to even look at her, let alone talk to her. but then again, she's never been one to care about other people's comfort because about halfway into the night, you spot her trailing back to your table with a few people following her. 

the group crowds your table and you find yourself pressed against a stranger who no doubt works with kitty. he shoots you a sleazy smile and you're grateful when you feel dokyeom subtly pull you closer toward him with a hand around your waist. what you don't expect is him to leave him arm there, draped down your back, finger resting against the small of lower back, sending chills up your spine.

"hey, you two! what're you upto, you've been stuck to this table for the entire night," kitty laughs. 

dokyeom notices vernon among the group, much to his chagrin, smiling at you boyishly. you wave back at vernon with a soft chuckle, thankful that not everyone in this crowd was a snoozefest. 

"just talking," is dokyeom's curt response. "are y'all enjoying the party?" he adresses the larger group, making it a point to not look at kitty. 

"i wish there was more real food," someones pipes in with a grunt and people laugh in agreement. 

"the wine's really good though. expensive stuff," vernon points out, looking at the wine glass propped between you and dokyeom. 

"yeah, it's maybe the best thing about this party," you chime in with a smile. before dokyeom can somehow bring up the fact that he'd been drinking out of the same glass as you, ren gasps out loud, "oh my god, guys, the mistletoe man's back!"

you look around in confusion and find a man dressed in green overalls walking around with some mistletoe stuck his chest, neatly tied with a red ribbon stuck to his chest. "the fuck?" you mumble out and dokyeom laughs at your bewilderment. "it's a stupid tradition," dokyeom says softly to you, "heard someone say it's to foster closer connections between workers."

"by forcing them to kiss?" you whisper back with a grimace as you watch a pair break away from their kiss with bitter expressions. it's fine though because they look at each other's disgust and break into laughter, their table cheering them on. 

"i think it's cute!" kitty remarks, watching the man as he turns around from a few tables over.

"shit, i think he's coming over here," ren curses. "why's that a bad thing?" kitty questions, smiling, eyes glued to the side of dokyeom's face. you might gouge your eyes out one of these days. you're too busy ignoring the ruckus kitty's causing with her frantic giggles as the mistetoe man approaches her. but then he goes past her and she goes silent, eyes coming to still behind you. that's when you realize the mistletoe man's standing square between you and dokyeom. 

you turn around to the man with wide eyes but he simply smiles, "the mistletoe man knows when he sees two lovers!" you don't know what he means till you become aware of dokyeom's arm around you. he pulls away in surprise and his face is red when you look up at dokyeom. 

"this is stupid," you murmur, hoping he'll agree and you wouldn't have to participate in this tradition.

"kiss! kiss! kiss!" ren starts a chant and everyone but kitty and vernon is quick to join in. dokyeom looks bewildered at the unison, and he looks at you, then down at your lips. "we don't have to do this," he comforts you.

"do you want to?" you ask him under your breath. you feel yourself flushing. 

"i'll do it if you want to."

you hate how agreeable dokyeom is sometimes, wishing he would decide for you, for this once. you don't want to think about all the eyes on you, the whispering that's no doubt been reignited. everyone knows you and dokyeom have been friends and maybe something more for years now, but to witness conclusive proof is thrilling to them. 

you feel frozen with the weight of the decision upon you. but then kitty opens her stupid mouth, "ah, dokyeomie, you don't have to do something you don't want to–" 

that spurs you on, you find yourself pressing yourself against dokyeom, raising yourself to his height so you can press your lips to his. he meets you halfway, as if he'd been waiting for you to do exactly this, his large hand finding your cheek so he can seal the deal. 

this goes without saying, you've never kissed dokyeom before, but the way it feels so natural has you questioning if this really was the first time. his lips are pillowy against yourself, his breath hitting your face sweetly when you finally pull away. his eyes are hooded like you've never seen them and you really wish you could memorize this feeling, ingrain it into your mind for later. 

but the moment breaks when you hear the table around you erupt with all kinds of reactions. you don't care to look though, too busy with your own reaction to handle. your heart's fluttering but your eyes feel watery when you pull away from dokyeom. you don't know what to think of all the lines you've been worrying about, the line between you and dokyeom cracking the moment you leaned into his lips. 

–

dokyeom's scared for his life right now. after the chaos around you settled a little, you'd looked at him and quietly asked if he could drive you home right now. he'd been quick to agree, following you out of the door without bidding anyone goodbye. but you're silent the entire walk to his car, not answering him when he asks if you're okay. 

now that you're settled in the car, he pauses before starting the engine. "y/n," he starts softly. you focus on your breathing, staring down at your hands blankly. "i'm sorry."

this makes you look up at him, mouth slightly ajar. "...why are you sorry?" you ask quietly, lips set in a narrow line.

"i– that must have made you uncomfortable. i didn't know what else to–"

"i was the one who kissed you," you comment, looking away and out the window, hands now fists in your lap. dokyeom watches as you tuck some stray strands of hair behind your ear, "i should be sorry."

should be, because you weren't a bit sorry about the kiss. the circumstances that caused it? sure. but the kiss itself wasn't something you would undo. 

dokyeom doesn't know what to say because there's so much to say. where does he even start? "i thought you always saw me as a… brother." 

"what?" your eyes hold a sea of disbelief in them but then as you blink back at a solemn dokyeom, you think it's not that crazy for him to think that after all. "well, i used to. how could i not? mom had drilled it into my system to rely on you like you were family."

dokyeom hums, "...and?"

"i mean, i clearly don't think… i don't have the feelings of a sister toward you," you mumble, your cheeks on fire when you hear your poor phrasing. "if i did, it would be a problem that i wanted to kiss back there."

"you did?" dokyeom gapes and you look at him with a slight tilt of your head. "i– obviously!" you tell him. 

he swallows, "wow. i don't even know what to think–" it's his turn to look at his hands that are trembling, "honest to god, i've never harboured anything but romantic feelings for you, y/n." he says this, head lowered as if in shame, ears revealing how embarassed he was. "i love your mother, but i swear she wanted to kill me the way she encouraged you to call me your brother when you were out with me." 

you grimace, holding back a chuckle, "i'm sorry…" 

"don't be," dokyeom sounds truly defeated, as if the work of hiding his feelings from you had finally caught up with him. "i'm sorry i didn't make myself clearer sooner. never imagined we'd talk about this because we got bullied into our first kiss."

you sigh, nodding as you mutter an agreement. dokyeom rises from his slouch slowly, coming to lock eyes with you. one of his hands comes to rest atop your own fist, prying it open so that you were holding his. you feel warm beyond imagination, feeling like you might burst open with the intensity of your feelings for dokyeom, wondering how you'd ever managed to keep them secret. 

"can…" you stop, voice hoarse, licking your lips nervously, "will you kiss me? for real this time?"

it doesn't take dokyeom a moment's hesitation to close the distance betwen you, his soft lips back on yours, not soon enough for you to get used to the gentle saccharine daze that overcame you. your unoccupied hand card through his hair, similar to a few hours ago when you'd been fixing it, but this time dokyeom lets out the mewl he'd been contatining last time.

he pulls away with a somewhat grunt, eyes starry, "there's no way you didn't know what your were doing." you look back at him, a little breathless with a look of complete confusion. 

he sighs, giving in and rest his head against yours, "when you were fixing my hair earlier, i thought i'd die of a heart attack. finally give up and move on from you, if only in death."

"don't say that, dk," you scold him, hands around him in concern, "and i don't understand why– i mean i feel like we've touched… in other ways before so–"

"i don't know either!" he exclaims, "i just– you looked so fucking gorgeous tonight and then you kept being oblivious to how obviously down bad i am for you– i just couldn't."

"hey, you weren't obvious if i didn't know! that's unfair…" you mumble, looking away with flushed cheeks. it didn't make sense to you.  but dokyeom simply laughs into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, not much of a change for your dynamic. you'd hugged dokyeom countless times before but now you feel unimaginably closer to him, like you were actually holding him, the entirety of him in your arms. it was incredible, the warmth that blossomed inside you in the silence that surrounded you. it was love.

love shows up even in the early mornings when you're with dokyeom. he'd slept over after your date last night, when you'd insisted you would be too lonely to sleep if he promptly took off (like a gentleman, he commented). you'd laid in bed till 2 am, kissing and talking the night away, his hands finding their indents underneath your worn-out tee. 

you wake up to his nose snuggled in your neck, breathing softly in slumber, hair sticking out every which way. you can't help the loving giggle that leaves you, making him stir in his sleep, arm coming to sit atop your bare stomach. 

"sweet boy," you mumble, placing a kiss atop his forehead and watching in awe as his brown eyes come to life at the action. "you awake?" you jokingly ask but dokyeom responds with a groggy grunt, smiling with fluttering eyes. 

you run a finger through his hair. he groans, "don't wake up yet." you laugh, stroking a strand behind his ear, "but i'm already–" 

he cuts you off with a pout, "no, don't wake up, love. please, want to sleep some more." 

you sigh and shift impossibly closer to him. "all right, then. can't argue with that logic." 

with that, you doze off again. how you manage to fall right back asleep is beyond you, though it might have something to do with the fact that dokyeom's presence brings you a serenity you didn't know you could feel, a feeling that's better than the soft comforter that he himself had picked out for your bed. his arms hold you close, the sweetness melting your heart the whole time you dream, dreaming of dokyeom and of love.

#dokyeom x y/n #dk x you #seokmin x reader #dokyeom svt #svt fics #svt x reader #dk x reader #lee seokmin #dk fics #lee seokmin x y/n #dokyeom seventeen #seventeen fics #seventeen imagine #seungcheol imagines #dokyeom fluff #svt fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #dk angst #kpop fic #kpop x reader #kpop imagines

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | five

🐴Chapter summary: You return home to the ranch, and finally get to call it home again. Jimin helps you move your stuff and you gradually feel yourself fall more and more for him.  🐴Chapter title: Our Home, Our Place 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: fluff with fluff on top 🤭 Also, there’s a piano that deserves a warning 👀 🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!) 🐴Word count: 11k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “This is Home” by Kate Voegele. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: MWAH! There’s just so much sexual tension in this, it is so damn fluffy and I loved writing it!! The tension was so palpable that I was so fucking close to giving in and let them have some well needed fun and a release (read= smut)— but no!!! Not yet 👿 I really hope you like this one!! Please let me know, okay? 🥹✨

Also, I am fully aware that this isn't Monday (at least in my timezone), but I just really wanted to post it and I've been thinking about changing the post days...

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Don't give up Try one more time We won't give up Let me help you Let me care Walk beside me I'll be there So don't give up Don't walk away” - ‘Don’t Give Up’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The tires of your car dig into the sandy dirt road with an unwavering resolve, each groove in the rugged terrain a testament to your journey. Your hands firmly clasp the steering wheel, the same determination coursing through you as it did months ago, yet this time, the air is charged with a different energy. You traverse the landscape, carrying not burdens but tidings of joy, and the road ahead unfolds like a welcoming embrace.

The sand and dust perform an ethereal dance before the windshield, a choreography of particles that somehow feels like nature's celebration. As you welcome the familiar landscape with open arms, the mountains maintain their majestic stance in the distance, towering sentinels against the canvas of the sky.

The car becomes a rolling symphony, pulsating with happy melodies that mirrors your newfound joy. An upbeat song reverberates through the vehicle, harmonizing with the rhythm of your contentment. 

Yet, beneath the surface of your happiness, there's a current of nervous anticipation, a symphony of emotions playing as you approach the threshold of home.

Anticipation tightens its grip on your heart as you ponder the impending reunion with Jessi. 

Will she swing the door open with open arms, or will it slam shut in rejection? The possibilities dance like shadows in your mind — a kaleidoscope of emotions waiting to unfold. 

Will her reaction be a thunderous scream, a fiery expulsion, or a demand to go, leaving the echoes of your past behind?

You fervently pray that won't be the case, your fingers tightening around the steering wheel as if clinging to the last shreds of hope. The grit in your resolve intensifies, bolstered by the weight of the positive news you carry back with you. 

In your heart, the fervent wish lingers: that this return won't be met with closed doors but with the open arms of a hopeful tomorrow. You reassure yourself, whispering to the wind, that the news you bear will be the bridge to mend fractured ties.

You cling to the steering wheel, fingers entwined, desperately yearning for Jessi to embrace your decision with the same warmth that radiates in your heart. 

As you drive, the memories encircle your mind like cherished echoes, their weight lifting off your shoulders. These fleeting recollections become comforting companions, guiding you home with a gentle embrace.

Your car, crammed to the brim with suitcases and bags, feels like a mobile vault of memories and possibilities. The notion of retrieving the rest of your belongings, perhaps with the help of a horse trailer, because you sure do have a lot of stuff!

The sign with your family name emerges like an old friend, triggering a cascade of memories that swirl around you – the carefree days of childhood, laughter echoing with your sister, the enduring camaraderie shared with Jimin, and the intricate tapestry of your adult life woven with triumphs and missteps, a testament to the journey of growing up and finally finding your place on the ranch.

As you draw near to the ranch, a hint of uncertainty flits through your thoughts, but amidst it, a resolute confidence surges within – you reassure yourself that not only can you navigate this return, but everything will unfold seamlessly, and everything will be fine.

Fueled by unwavering determination, you approach the ranch with a mindset that Jessi, with all her emotions, won't sway your resolve. This time, there's no room for surrender; you've learned from past experiences, and the echoes of your previous retreat will not repeat. You're here to stand firm and face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Embracing a resolute spirit, you skillfully guide your car along the serpentine path that descends towards the heart of the ranch.

As the well-known scenery unfolds before you, a subtle unease snakes through your veins. Jessi once demanded you to depart; will she repeat the gesture? 

Yet, your heart clings to the hope that this time, the news of your decision regarding the inheritance will elicit a different reaction, one of understanding and happiness.

The ranch stands unchanged, a testament to time, yet this visit, the burden of yesteryears no longer drapes over you. Instead, a vast sea of possibilities stretches before you, offering a chance to forge a new life, to reconnect with your roots, and to weave a reconciliation with the chapters of your past.

Bringing the car to a halt before the main house, you silence the engine with a decisive twist of the key. A nervous and heavy sigh escapes your lips, intertwining with the palpable anticipation that hangs in the air. Inhaling deeply, you draw in the essence of the moment, your fingers clenching determinedly against the steering wheel. 

This is your moment, and you can do it.

This time, you don't linger in the car to muster your determination. Swiftly, you swing the car door open and inhale the familiar scent of the land you once called home, hoping it will embrace you again. 

Your heart quickens its pace as your sneakers connect with the rugged ground. This is your chance to reclaim what was lost. 

You can do it.

Trekking the uneven terrain in your sneakers becomes a seamless journey. Approaching the imposing front door, you assertively deliver a knock as a polite gesture. However, unlike before, you don't linger in anticipation, choosing instead to take charge of the moment.

With a confident grip on the handle, you assertively push your way into the familiar space, a subtle declaration of ownership echoing in your every step. After all, this is rightfully yours now.

As you stroll down the corridor, a nostalgic echo of your arrival weeks ago, you casually poke your head into the kitchen. To your surprise, Ha-rin is diligently at work, and your sudden appearance startles her, causing a mix of both surprise and curiosity to dance across her features.

An eruption of excitement escapes Ha-rin as she exclaims, “Oh my god! You’re back!” 

Giggles and near-screams accompany her joyful dance, abandoning whatever task held her attention. In an instant, she abandons her work, rushes toward you, and engulfs you in a warm, hearty hug. The embrace becomes a haven, her familiar scent working its magic to soothe your jangled nerves. As you reciprocate the hug, her ebony locks playfully tickle your cheeks, creating a comforting cocoon of familiarity.

Her voice echoes with genuine joy, “We missed you! The others are gonna be so happy to see you back!” Each word resonates with enthusiasm, and she steps back to survey you. Dressed for ranch life, not like you were weeks ago, no heels this time, just your trusty sneakers. Jeans and a shirt complete the ensemble, a departure from the dresses of yestertime, signaling a readiness to embrace the authenticity of ranch living once again.

“Even Jessi?” An arched eyebrow accompanies your question, a low chuckle escaping your lips. You inquire, teasingly probing for details about the reception awaiting you from your sister.

“Yeah!” Her affirmation resonates with genuine warmth, and she continues, “She actually wanted to call you, but I guess she was too stubborn…” 

Ha-rin rolls her eyes as she shares this tidbit, and you feel a subtle acceleration in your heartbeat. Could it be that your sister has genuinely missed you?

Before you can linger on that intriguing piece of information, Ha-rin eagerly ushers you outside, pulling you along as she navigates the yard in search of the rest of the girls.

Ha-rin practically yanks you towards the stables, and as you step inside, you discover Soo-ah and Ara diligently tending to the horse stalls. At the sound of your entrance, they abandon their shovels, rushing towards you with shouts of your name echoing through the stables.

“I hoped you'd be coming back!” Soo-ah exclaims, enveloping you in a warm and tender hug, and Ara follows suit, creating a trio of affectionate embraces. Laughter bubbles up as the three girls express their joy at your return.

Anxiety courses through your veins as you inquire, “Where's Jessi?” 

The anticipation hangs heavy in the air, and you're eager to confront this part of your return.

“I think she’ll be back soon. She’s with Jungkook,” Ara informs you, and Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange amused glances, their mischievous smiles leaving your face a silent question mark.

Sensing your silent inquiry, Ha-rin shakes her head, “Not like that.”

Not that you mind if that happened. After all, you have no claim over Jungkook, nor do you want one. Your interests and heart lie elsewhere. Still, you'd be genuinely happy for them if they ever get together—though you highly doubt it given how similar they seem, and the fact that she’s currently with Namjoon.

As your laughter resonates through the barn, the rhythmic beat of hoofbeats draws near. Before long, Cinnamon and your sister appear at the barn doors. Jessi's hat sits atop her head, and her brown curls cascade gracefully as she guides Cinnamon to a gentle walk and then a complete stop.

Her eyes fix on you, and an unexpected vulnerability creeps over you, as if you're laid bare for inspection, wondering how she'll respond. However, her gaze remains silent, devoid of anger, and a hint of happiness even appears to dance in her eyes.

Dismounting Cinnamon with effortless grace, she leads him into the barn, drawing closer to you. “Hi,” she greets with a simple nod, her actions speaking louder than words as she proceeds past you, focused on the task of untacking her horse.

“Hey,” you greet, a touch of nerves in your voice despite your determination. 

“I was hoping we could talk?” 

The request hangs in the air, your attempt at steadiness wrestling with the nerves coursing through your veins.

“Absolutely, I'd like that,” she replies, focused on removing Cinnamon's bridle. “I just need to put Cinnamon out in the pasture, and then we can grab a beer on the terrace. You go ahead, I'll join you in a moment.”

“Alright, sounds good,” you reply, a wave of relief washing away most of the nervous tension. You give a friendly wave to Soo-ah and Ara, leaving them to complete the stall cleaning as you and Ha-rin make your way back to the house.

“Jessi seems happy,” you start the conversation while descending towards the house, and Ha-rin glances at you with a warm smile. “I told you she’s been missing you. She’s happy to see you,”  she shares as both of you step into the kitchen.

“I just thought she hated me,” you confess, your voice wavering slightly as you locate and retrieve two beers from the fridge.

“Can't vouch for the past, but ever since you left, she's been doing a lot of thinking about you,” Ha-rin confides with a gentle gaze, returning to her food preparations. You offer her a grateful nod before making your way out to the terrace.

The red-brown wood deck of the terrace is adorned with inviting lounge chairs, and a spacious table surrounded by eight chairs sits proudly in the backyard. A metal wind chime dangles from the ceiling, silent in the absence of wind.

Seated on the terrace steps, you patiently await your sister's return. Your eyes wander across the backyard, where a myriad of bushes and trees creates a captivating display of lush greenery. Amidst the natural beauty, you ponder on how she will respond to your news. A mix of hope and uncertainty lingers in the air. Despite her earlier demeanor, you find solace in the belief that, at the very least, she may not react negatively.

Jessi emerges into view, the glistening beads of sweat on her forehead bearing witness to the exertion from the stables. You extend the cold beer to her, and she grabds it graciously, taking a seat beside you on the terrace. 

As the refreshing hiss of opened beers fills the air, you gather your courage and broach the topic, “There's something important I've been wanting to discuss with you—about my inheritance.”

A fleeting tension tightens her shoulders momentarily, a subtle reaction not lost on you. Yet, she eases into a composed stance, nodding in silent permission for you to proceed.

“I've had a change of heart about selling it,” you start, a newfound lightness pulsating through your chest. “Keeping the ranch feels right, and…”

“Can I make a home on the ranch, if you'll have me?” The words tumble out, a mix of question and declaration. Nervousness creeps back as she gazes at you, caught off guard by the weight of your words.

She exhales, shoulders dropping, “I'm relieved you're not selling your inheritance,” she says. The rhythm of your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and your eyes widen. The tone in her voice leaves you uncertain; it doesn't sound like an invitation for you to stay.

“And this place is as much yours as it is mine. So, of course, you can stay,” she offers a soft smile, and all her features seem to relax, a stark contrast to how you've seen her before during that time you spent here last.

You feel a flood of reassurance washing over you, her words finally reaching you. “I want you to stay too,” she adds before you can finish your thought, and a big smile creeps onto your face. You can't help it, just like you can't help the tears that threaten to escape.

“I've genuinely missed you,” she admits, her words accompanied by the subtle gesture of bringing the beer to her lips for a sip.

Your heart swells with affection and love, and you open up, saying, “I’m so sorry about how I behaved last time— all those times I fucked up, and how I mishandled the situation with the inheritance.”

You savor a sip of the beer, relishing the moment as the warmth of the conversation with your sister pairs perfectly with the soothing hues of the sunset in the background.

“It’s fine. And it’s natural to mess up, and I’ll try to be better at not grilling you for your mistakes. And you really shouldn’t feel so bad when you make them,” her words offer a refreshing breeze, a promise of understanding, and the teasing pat on your shoulder feels like a gentle reminder that even in the realm of mistakes, there's room for laughter and forgiveness.

“We’re sisters, you know? We should stick together and help each other. Not bring each other down,” as the sun dips lower, casting hues of warm orange across the sky, her words resonate like a melody of reconciliation.

“That would be nice,” your voice carries a wistful tone as you express the longing for the dream of sisterhood to become a reality. The prospect of working together, mending what was once broken, tugs at the strings of your heart, echoing the echoes of a childhood dream that's now within reach.

“I’m also sorry for how I behaved,” in that moment, the sincerity in her gaze is palpable, and as she gently clasps your hands, a shared understanding seems to bridge the gap between past regrets and present reconciliation. 

“I’m happy you didn’t give up on this place or on me.”

As joyous tears cascade down your cheeks, her words resonate with a profound truth that rekindles the warmth of a long-lost friendship. Squeezing her hand in a shared moment of understanding, you draw her into a heartfelt embrace. The sensation is transformative, a healing balm for the wounds of time, and an assurance that, from this point onward, things can only evolve for the better.

As you prepare to meet up with the guys at the local bar, a sense of relief washes over you. This time, you're comfortably clad in your own clothes, steering clear of any daring ventures into your sister's wardrobe. You vividly remember what went down when you borrowed her clothes— and you certainly don’t want a repeat of that!

Jessi takes the wheel, embarking on the two-hour journey, the atmosphere inside the car is charged with contagious laughter and joyful giggles that resonate throughout the entire ride.

Soo-ah's eyes sparkle with anticipation as she inquires, “Do you think Hobi will be there?” 

Ara, turning around with a sheepish look, responds with a hint of playfulness, “Why wouldn't he be?”

“I don’t know,” Soo-ah chuckles nervously, uncertainty lingering in her eyes. You offer a reassuring squeeze to her leg and assure her, “He'll be there, don't worry.”

As you pull into the bar's parking lot, the sight of both Jungkook and Jimin's pickup trucks quickens your heart. The vibrant blue hue of Jimin's truck captures your attention, and an unexpected wave of nervousness causes your palms to sweat. You subtly fidget, praying that Soo-ah beside you remains oblivious to the sudden surge of emotions.

Entering the bar, the boisterous laughter of the guys instantly guides your gaze to a larger table, where they've gathered. A symphony of hearty laughs reverberates through the room, and as you approach, you can't help but notice their hats carefully placed on the table. A warm smile spreads across your face, ready to join the camaraderie.

As your sister claims a chair beside Jungkook and Soo-ah smoothly secures a seat next to Hoseok, Ara and Ha-rin settle in beside Yoongi. With a subtle gesture, Jimin deftly pulls out the empty chair next to him, a silent invitation for you to join the circle.

“Thank you,” gratitude colors your words as you offer a soft smile, yet beneath the surface, your heart quickens in the magnetic pull of Jimin's presence, settling into the chair with a hint of anticipation.

“Welcome back,” Hoseok quips, a playful smile lighting up his face as he raises his beer in a toast to celebrate your return. The others swiftly join the gesture, already having ordered a beer for you in anticipation. A chuckle escapes you, appreciating the friendship, and you seamlessly join in with your own beer.

“You know, you really should be thanking Jimin,” you remark after taking a sip, directing your gaze toward him with tender eyes and a soft smile. 

The others exchange curious glances, signaling that they might not be aware of Jimin's visit to the city—an aspect you assumed was common knowledge.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and all eyes, except Jimin's, fixate on you with expectant curiosity. In a hushed tone, you confess, “Jimin came to visit me in the city.” The revelation resonates loudly, met with gasps of ‘oh's’ that hang in the air.

“So that's where you went,” Jungkook teases with a sly smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively. A synchronized eye-roll between you and Jimin follows, a silent agreement against the mischievous banter.

You catch Soo-ah whispering to Hoseok, disbelief evident in her hushed tones. A chuckle escapes your lips, finding amusement in their reactions.

You turn to face Jimin, his cheeks adorned with a subtle blush, his soft features inviting and his plush, slightly chapped lips capturing your attention. “Thank you, Jimin, for bringing me back,” you express, your voice carrying a weight of affection and gratitude. In those words, you hope he senses the depth of your appreciation for his kindness and the significant impact it had on you.

He grins, a warm and expansive smile that causes his eyes to disappear into the contours of his cheeks. 

“Anytime. I'm glad you came home,” he replies with genuine warmth, his words echoing the sincerity that radiates from his expression.

“Yeah, I'm glad I came home too,” you murmur in a breathy tone, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. For a moment, it feels like an intimate exchange, a shared secret between just the two of you, the world narrowing into tunnel vision. Reality snaps back, and you remember you're not alone, the rest of the group observing you with curious eyes.

“Well, let's toast to that too then!” Hoseok exclaims with infectious mirth, prompting the group to raise their glasses for another sip of beer. 

You shift your gaze back to the table, yet the sensation of Jimin's eyes on you persists. His stare carries an inviting warmth, and a longing tugs at you, wanting you to plant your head on his shoulders, reminiscent of the moments in your apartment when you leaned into his sturdy frame. You remember how your heart echoed the rhythm of his, creating a sense of belonging and familiarity that made you feel truly at home.

Laughter swirls around you, but your thoughts orbit in a distant realm. As you attempt to refocus on the conversation, a peculiar dynamic unfolds between your sister and Jungkook. Their interactions carry a subtle awkwardness, an unspoken occurrence concealed beneath forced smiles. Tension simmers between them, an invisible thread tying knots of secrecy, yet the exact nature eludes your grasp.

Averting your gaze from the enigmatic exchange, you catch the collective scrutiny of the girls fixed upon you. A blush ignites your cheeks, and you involuntarily inhale sharply. Their sly smiles and approving glances make your embarrassment intensify, and you find yourself momentarily breathless, struggling to swallow even a sip of your beer.

As the liquid spurts out, leaving you panting for air, Jimin swiftly places a warm hand on your back, sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body. 

In that moment, you feel like you're both on fire and gasping for breath, a peculiar combination of sensations that leaves you caught in an unexpected whirlwind. 

Great, you think, struggling to regain your composure amidst the chaos.

Concern etches his features as he anxiously inquires, “Are you okay?” 

Your breath continues to dance erratically against his palm, the warmth of his touch providing a comforting anchor in the midst of your momentary struggle to regain composure.

As you finally regain control over your breath, a self-deprecating chuckle escapes your lips, a feeble attempt to divert attention from your momentary lapse. The group seamlessly resumes their conversations, allowing you a moment to collect the tattered shreds of your dignity. 

Why does it always seem like you're destined to make a fool of yourself?

Jimin's touch lingers on your back, a tantalizing journey that ventures perilously close to the curve of your ass, sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

Jimin's warm smile graces his face as he extends an invitation, “We're throwing a party at our place in a few days, and you're all invited.” Meanwhile, his hand continues its subtle dance, now gently rubbing your lower back, creating a magnetic connection that adds an intriguing layer to the invitation.

No. No. That’s dangerous to think about, you reprimand yourself.

His touch, gentle and warm, sends a wave of sensations through you, igniting a rush of memories and desires. The mere brush of his fingers on your skin catapults your mind into overdrive, recalling the comforting closeness you shared. Your thighs involuntarily clench as you silently curse the intensity of your own lingering thoughts. 

Damn it.

Suddenly, he withdraws his hand, leaving an unexpected chill in the space it once occupied. The absence of his touch sends a subtle shiver down your spine, a stark reminder of the warmth you had grown accustomed to in that fleeting moment.

“Absolutely, count us in!” Jessi exclaims, her face lighting up with enthusiasm, and she dives back into conversation with Jungkook, the topic eluding your grasp.

Your thoughts are a whirlwind of Jimin—his gentle tousled blonde locks, the memory of his firm thighs, how both strong and inviting they felt—and you snap back to reality, realizing you might be wearing your infatuation like a neon sign. 

Damn it.

Pull yourself together; you can't afford to be practically drooling in front of everyone.

Summoning determination, you refocus on Jimin. “Jimin, there's something I want to ask you,” you start, a soft smile masking the nervousness that makes your palms slightly sweaty.

He responds with a smile and a chuckle, clearly aware of your flustered state. “Go ahead, ask anything,” he encourages, his warmth providing a comforting backdrop to your nervousness.

Your gaze meets his, hopeful and sincere, as you muster the courage to pop the question. “I was wondering if you could lend me a hand moving all my stuff from the city back home to the ranch?” The subtle widening of his smile and the softening of his eyes tell you that your request has found a welcome place in his heart, and he leans in.

“Do you need a pair of strong hands to lift heavy furniture?” His playful tease sends a flush of embarrassment to your cheeks, your mind racing with thoughts of his strong biceps and thighs. 

Chuckling at your reaction, he leans in, making your heart race even faster. 

Gathering your composure, you respond with a playful retort, “Well, I do have a lot of stuff, and I need you to drive with a horse trailer. Your muscles would be a huge bonus.” The words tumble out in a rush, a mix of nervousness and a desire to keep the conversation between just the two of you.

His laughter fills the air, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “Absolutely, I'm in. Just let me know when you want to get the show on the road,” he says with a grin, his willingness to help evident in his warm and teasing tone.

As you exhale, returning your attention to the group's conversation, a sudden surge of warmth envelops your thigh. Your breath catches in anticipation, your body responding to the gentle caress as if it were a spark igniting a flame.

As Jimin navigates his blue truck down the rustic dirt road, a horse trailer trailing behind, he turns to you with a warm smile. Leaning comfortably against the seat, one hand effortlessly steering, the other casually resting on his thigh, he inquires, “How much stuff are we bringing back?” 

His eyes twinkle with a mix of curiosity and readiness for the adventure ahead, as if the journey is not just about transporting belongings but weaving a story between two souls on the open road.

Oh heavens. Your gaze unintentionally lingers on Jimin's dangerously enticing thighs, you inwardly scold yourself—those legs are a hazard, a potential downfall for you at any moment. A shaky breath escapes you, a silent reminder that Jimin is awaiting your response to the question he posed.

Your smile holds a mix of determination and anticipation as you respond, “All of it. I've canceled my lease on the apartment, so everything needs to come with us back home.” 

As the cold air from the conditioning unit gently tousles your hair, you welcome the refreshing breeze, a stark contrast to the heated and lingering thoughts that play provocatively in your mind.

“Cool,” he says, a charming smile gracing his lips, yet his gaze lingers a moment too long, a silent undercurrent of unspoken words hanging between you two, before he diverts his attention back to the winding road ahead.

You've sensed his lingering gazes for weeks, and there's a magnetic pull that suggests his childhood crush may not have faded. The feeling is mutual— oh boy do you feel it, your heart echoes his sentiments. Does he sense your reciprocation? Uncertain, you contemplate subtle ways to convey your emotions, crafting a silent symphony that resonates without uttering the words aloud.

As your gaze involuntarily drifts to his thighs once more, a daring notion plays in your mind—should you dare to venture a touch? 

Lost in contemplation, you're oblivious to his subtle amusement until his hand, warm and reassuring, lands on your thigh. His chuckle, a shared secret between you, unfolds a world of possibilities along the open road.

In a heartbeat, a cocoon of warmth engulfs you, igniting a familiar flame within. His touch possesses an enchanting power, a spell that renders you warm, giddy, and teetering on the edge of desire every single time.

With a sheepish smile, you gently place your hand over his calloused one, settling back into your seat. In this moment, everything feels just right.

The remainder of the lengthy drive unfolds in a serene silence, allowing both of you to bask in the comforting presence of the other, not needing words. There's a certain beauty in the simplicity, especially with his warm hand resting so reassuringly on your thigh.

As the towering cityscape looms into view, a nostalgic pang tugs at your heart. This bustling metropolis has been your home for countless years, a backdrop to the chapters of your life. Now, faced with the daunting task of packing up, you're about to embark on a journey back to your roots. The skyscrapers and imposing buildings seem to reach new heights on the horizon, and with precision, Jimin expertly navigates the road to secure a parking spot right outside your apartment complex.

Exiting the truck, you're greeted by a wave of stifling, humid air that carries the city's unique blend of pollution. The atmosphere seems almost suffocating as you make your way back to the trailer. There, Jimin is already in action, deftly opening it and lowering the ramp, setting the stage for a smooth and efficient loading process.

“Ready?” Jimin's infectious smile lights up the moment as you approach your apartment, your heart pulsating with anticipation, matching the rhythm of each step you take together.

With a sense of purpose, you had pre-packed your belongings in sturdy boxes before your return to the ranch, fueled by a fierce determination to make it your permanent home. Now, alongside Jimin, the only task at hand is to efficiently load the carefully packed boxes and furniture into the waiting horse trailer.

Amidst the sea of packed furniture and boxes, Jimin shoots you a bemused look, his chuckle echoing through the apartment. “Did you expect that Jessi would say yes to let you stay at the ranch, before you came back?” he teases, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Smirking playfully, you retort, “Well, I like to be prepared. If Jessi had told me to leave, I would've just unpacked it all.” A chuckle escapes your lips, accompanied by a nonchalant shrug as you snatch a box.

His eyes playfully twinkle as he suggests, “You grab all the small boxes, and let me do all the heavy lifting, okay?” His gaze surveys the cluttered space, finally settling on your substantial couch.

You nod in agreement, a subtle pang of guilt flickering in your chest. The thought crosses your mind that he might exhaust himself, particularly his right leg. Perhaps you can repay the favor with another leg massage later?

In just a few hours, you manage to load the trailer and Jimin's pickup truck with all your belongings. As you lock the door to your apartment, the weight of finality settles in. With a click, the door is secured, and you slip the key into the mailbox for the landlord.

Jimin's voice carries a comforting warmth as he suggests, “Let's head back home,” wrapping his arms around you in a tender embrace. Inhaling his musky scent, memories flood back from the night he stayed over. A hopeful anticipation lingers, wishing for more moments like those to come.

Jimin ushers you back to the truck, courteously opening the door for you. You offer him a soft smile as you slide into the seat. Observing him as he circles the vehicle, his worsened limp catches your attention. 

The realization sinks in—Jimin pushed himself too hard, his usual grace overshadowed by the toll of exertion, all for your sake, and a gentle frown forms on your face.

Jimin secures the trailer with a confident click, then slides into the driver's seat. A warm smile graces his lips as he turns the key in the ignition, setting the engine humming to life. With a smooth shift into first gear, he directs the car forward, his eyes meeting yours in a silent promise of the journey ahead.

As the soft strains of music fill the car, a subtle unease creeps over you. Anxious thoughts dance in your mind, a symphony of guilt echoing within, knowing that Jimin might be in pain, all because of you.

“Does your leg hurt?” 

Biting your lip, you seek reassurance, even though the truth is already etched in the lines of his face. 

“Yeah, a bit,” he confesses, briefly straightening his leg before a fleeting pause on the gas pedal. A momentary interruption in his driving, a subtle acknowledgment of the pain he endures. The rhythm of the road resumes, but you sense the underlying strain in his voice, a melody of discomfort beneath the surface.

Slowly, your hand ventures across the center console, finding its place on his solid thigh. His surprise is evident in the brief flicker of his gaze, but he remains silent as your fingers press and massage, the rhythmic motion a silent dialogue between you. His eyes fixate on the road ahead, while your touch weaves its soothing spell on the taut muscles beneath your fingertips.

You playfully prod your fingers into the fabric of his denim, kneading his thigh as though sculpting a pliable material. A subdued moan escapes him, and you catch the sight of him nibbling on his lower lip, a subtle sign of the sensations your touch ignites.

Your hand glides with a purpose up and down his sturdy thigh, sensing the subtle tension in his muscles. With each ascent, you feel the clenching response beneath your touch. 

Moving higher up his thigh, his breaths become shallower, a rhythm resembling both panting and anticipation.

He shifts his gaze toward you, a mixture of plea and vulnerability in his eyes. 

“Please stop.”

As if seared by an invisible flame, your hand freezes in place, but you resist pulling it away immediately. There's a silent plea in his eyes, and you sense there's more beneath the surface, waiting to be revealed.

He exhales a prolonged moan, his voice carrying a hint of urgency, “I might lose focus on the road if you keep that up.”

Your gaze lingers on the subtle bulge in his pants, eliciting a gasp that quickly turns into a relaxed smile as you recognize his pleasure. With one last tantalizing squeeze, you withdraw your hand, offering him a soft, knowing smile, your eyes revealing the unmistakable presence of desire.

His laughter fills the air as he acknowledges your efforts, “Your massage worked wonders. I must admit, I do enjoy your touch,” a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

You accept the compliment with a subtle grin, savoring the fact that he's visibly affected. There might be a chance to pick up where you left off later, but for now, he needs to concentrate on the road.

“This is seriously not ranch wear!” 

Protesting against the impracticality of your footwear, you let out a groan as your sneakers get swallowed by the soft earth, your feet sliding uncomfortably inside them.

Amidst the shared laughter, Soo-ah's hands expertly reinforcing the fence with a tool, she suggests with a playful grin, “Perhaps it's high time for a trip into town to snag yourself some proper boots?”

“Absolutely,” you confirm, gripping the fence firmly as she expertly weaves in fresh wire to mend the spots where the cattle had left their mark.

“We can go town later, yeah?”

You watch the beads of sweat cascade down her forehead as she channels her strength into securing the wires to the fence. You nod in agreement, realizing the practicality of having a sturdy pair of boots, especially considering your decision to make this place your home.

Soo-ah takes charge of the heavy lifting, skillfully securing the wires while you provide the essential support by steadying the fence posts. Together, you form a seamless partnership, ensuring the fence's resilience under the weight of teamwork.

“Let’s head back home, I’m tired,” exhaustion paints Soo-ah's words as she catches her breath, prompting the decision to retreat home. You both make your way back to the horses, gracefully mounting them before embarking on the journey back to the ranch, where the promise of rest and respite awaits.

After dismounting the horses and securing them in the stable, a parched sensation lingers in your throat, coaxing you towards the house in pursuit of a refreshing gulp of cold water. The relentless heat persists, a reminder that perhaps bringing water along during the fence repair would have been a wiser choice.

Announcing your need for a wardrobe change, you declare, “I have to swap this drenched shirt,” and with purpose, stride towards your room—the guest room that has cradled you since your arrival months ago. However, upon entering, an uncanny realization dawns—your belongings have vanished. 

Surveying the room, the neatly made bed flaunts unfamiliar sheets, an unsettling cleanliness pervades the space. Panic prickles as you frantically wonder, where's your stuff?

As you retrace your steps to the terrace where Soo-ah is seeking solace from the sweltering heat, you can't help but voice your growing concern, “Do you have any idea where my belongings are? My room is stripped bare.” 

The words hang in the air, and as you glimpse a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, an unsettling curiosity tightens in your chest.

Her words leave a trail of mystery in the air, and you feel a surge of anticipation. “Head upstairs and check the room next to Jessi's,” she suggests, a knowing smile playing on her lips, her fingers delicately pressing the cold glass of water against her flushed face. 

With a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling within you, you follow Soo-ah's suggestion and ascend the staircase. Navigating through the familiar halls, you finally reach your sister's room and, with a tentative breath, reach for the handle of the door adjacent to it. The wood creaks softly as you push it open, revealing a room transformed, yet oddly familiar.

You slide into the room, and your jaw practically meets the floor at the sight that unfolds before you; every piece of your belongings thoughtfully arranged in the space, a harmonious blend of familiarity and newfound warmth. A cream-colored box takes center stage on the bed, bearing the elegant letters ‘Ariat,’ and you can't help but feel a rush of intrigue coursing through you.

As you lift the lid, a pair of exquisite brown boots adorned with intricate stitching and a touch of regal purple captures your gaze. Instantly, a wellspring of emotion threatens to spill over, and you find tears welling up in your eyes as your fingers delicately trace the supple contours of the leather.

The unexpected gift of boots sends your heart into a joyous swell, an exquisite gesture that leaves you touched. Overwhelmed with gratitude, you make your way downstairs, only to discover your sister and Soo-ah sharing the terrace.

“You got these for me?” Clutching the boots in your hands, you can't help but show them to your sister and Soo-ah, your face adorned with tears of pure joy. 

Soo-ah and your sister share conspiratorial smiles as Jessi unveils not just the boots but also a classic dark brown cowboy hat. “Now that you live here, you need those, and also this,” Jessi declares. You accept the hat, its simplicity resonating with you, and a genuine smile spreads across your face as you hold it in your hands.

Overwhelmed, you stammer through your gratitude, “This is too much. It’s not even my birthday. And you did all this for me? Also my room?” 

A choked sob escapes, your emotions a mix of gratitude and sheer happiness.

“Yeah. You deserve a bigger room too!” Your sister exclaims, pulling you into a tight hug that feels like a warm embrace of love and acceptance.

Overwhelmed by the unexpected warmth of their gesture, you can hardly believe the kindness and thoughtfulness they've poured into making you feel at home.

As you and your sister embark on a journey to the paddock near the Bell Ranch, the air is filled with a sense of purpose, the truck's engine humming in harmony with the anticipation of nourishing the cattle with extra hay.

As you draw near, the figures of Jungkook and Yoongi come into focus, silhouetted against the backdrop of the sprawling ranch. The boundary fence becomes a canvas for their hard work, their foreheads glistening with sweat and hats serving as valiant protectors against the relentless assault of the scorching sun.

You bound out of the car, adorned in your newfound boots and hat, the sensation of the leather against your skin adding a touch of invincibility to your step. The prairie wind whispers around you, playing with the edges of your hat, as if welcoming you into this new chapter of ranch life.

Observing the unspoken tension between Jessi and Jungkook, a myriad of questions flutter in your mind, but you resist voicing them just yet. 

Your sister redirects your focus, breaking the silent inquiry with a practical suggestion, “I'll take the wheel while you stand in the load of the truck, guiding the hay distribution. Deal?”

You agree to your sister's plan, a subtle unease crawls over you, intensified by the lingering gazes of Yoongi and Jungkook. 

A fleeting concern flits through your mind – is there a flaw in your attire that's drawn their attention?

“Nice boots and hat!” Jungkook's enthusiastic shout reaches you from the fence, accompanied by a sly smirk and an appreciative lift of his eyebrows. Yoongi, on the other hand, acknowledges you with a subtle nod, his gaze holding a mysterious intensity that leaves you intrigued and slightly puzzled.

“Thank you,” gratitude echoes from your lips as you balance atop the car, skillfully pushing chucks of hay out while your sister maneuvers the truck with deliberate precision. 

Jungkook's voice carries over the sound of hammering as he secures a fence post into the ground, his biceps flexing beneath the snug fabric of his t-shirt, “Are you joining the party tomorrow?” 

“You bet!” Your sister's voice resounds from the car, the windows rolled down, carrying her enthusiasm through the sun-soaked air.

As you prepare for the party at the guys' ranch, your hands eagerly discover the lovely dress that Jimin gifted you during his visit to the city. You pull it out, your fingers delicately tracing the intricate flowers adorning the fabric, knowing instinctively that this is the perfect choice for tonight.

In no time, you transform into a vision of elegance, applying a subtle, natural layer of makeup that enhances your features. A pair of low heels elegantly complete the ensemble, adding a touch of grace to complement the beauty of your chosen dress.

You step out into the yard to join your sister and the girls, all of you radiating a collective aura of elegance. Jessi stuns in a baby blue summer dress, a perfect match for her vibrant personality. Soo-ah confidently rocks a short, red mini dress that accentuates her curves with subtle allure. Ara's tall figure is accentuated by a flowing, regal purple satin dress. Ha-rin opts for a chic midi-length black dress, exuding a timeless charm. Together, you form a stylish and captivating ensemble ready for the night ahead.

“Is everyone set?” 

Your sister's anticipation fills the air as she swings open the car door, taking command of the driver's seat. The excitement is palpable as you and the others pile into the truck, eagerly embarking on the journey toward the Bell ranch.

As you pull up, a sea of cars and pickups fills the yard, resonating with the lively hum of distant music and the chatter of the party. The festive ambiance hits you the moment you swing open the car door, setting the stage for a night of celebration.

Anticipation courses through you as you approach the lively gathering, eager to unravel the mysteries of the party unfolding. Yet, amidst the pulsating music and animated crowd, it's the mere prospect of locking eyes with Jimin that quickens your heartbeat, infusing an electrifying rhythm to your excitement.

You step into their abode, a wave of conviviality envelopes you, the air resonating with the symphony of laughter. Jungkook, Jimin, Yoongi, and Hoseok form a relaxed quartet, engaged in easy banter, their beers in hand. 

Your eyes catch the vet, Namjoon, accompanied by a stranger with shoulders broad as mountains, his laughter infectious. Amidst the female company, drawn close to Jungkook, the atmosphere pulsates with an undeniable magnetism.

As your gaze collides with Jimin's, a soft and profound smile graces his lips, causing an inexplicable flutter within you. It's astonishing how this man effortlessly wields the power to turn your insides into a tender mush with just a simple yet enchanting smile.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Jimin's warm voice resonates as he clasps your hand, a surge of electric energy coursing through your veins. You return his gaze with a smile, grateful for the invitation and the electrifying connection that lingers between you both.

“Oh, you're wearing the dress. You’re stunning,” he appraises you, his gaze tracing the contours of your figure, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. A subtle lick of his tongue adds a hint of mischief. Your legs momentarily waver, yet determined, you stride beside Jimin, delving deeper into their vibrant home.

The room exudes warmth, a comfortable fusion of wood and inviting furniture strategically placed. A sprawling couch beckons, adorned with a small table, a TV nearby. A grand round dining table, surrounded by wooden chairs boasting vibrant red upholstery, catches your eye. 

As you take in the scene, a piano near the couch intrigues you, sparking a curiosity you're eager to explore. 

Before you can inquire, the music volume surges, inundating the room with lively beats, setting the tone for the night.

As the lively tunes envelop the room, a spontaneous dance floor emerges, and Jimin gracefully sweeps you into a slow dance. Despite any reservations about your dancing skills, Jimin effortlessly dissolves them with his reassuring presence. His own mastery on the dance floor is evident, accentuated by the perfect fit of his pants and the tantalizing view offered by a slightly unbuttoned shirt, teasingly revealing his collarbones. 

In the rhythm of the music, you find yourself lost in the enchantment of the moment, guided by Jimin's skillful moves and the magnetic connection between you both.

With a deft twirl, he sends your dress swirling around you, a kaleidoscope of colors catching the ambient light. As you gracefully land in his arms, his hands intuitively find their place on your hips, guiding and swaying your body in perfect harmony with the pulsating rhythm of the music. 

As the music envelops you both, your heart races in tandem with the intoxicating rhythm. 

Jimin is so close that his scent permeates the air, clouding your senses and setting your mind and body ablaze. Desires surge within you, an undeniable yearning that intensifies with every breath, a silent plea echoing in the pulsating energy of the moment. 

You crave him, an insatiable hunger burning through your veins.

You nestle against his shoulder, inhaling the heady essence that is uniquely Jimin, an electric current courses through you, awakening a primal desire. His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, igniting a passionate flame that flickers within the deepest recesses of your being down to your core. 

A soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips, a testament to the overwhelming allure he holds over you.

In this enchanting moment, cocooned in the tender embrace of Jimin, it's as if the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you in a dance of intimacy. Yet, the pulsating energy of the party swirls around you, and as you lift your gaze from Jimin's shoulder, you catch a glimpse of your sister entwined in a dance with Jungkook. Their connection is palpable and sparks igniting an unspoken dialogue between them, drawing your attention to them.

You nestle your head into Jimin's chest, seeking refuge in the cocoon of warmth and strength that surrounds you. The rise and fall of his pectorals and shoulders provide a comforting rhythm, his touch on your hips guiding your every move with a gentle precision. With each sway, you're attuned to the reassuring thud of his heart, a steady drumbeat against your face.

This is pure bliss, a moment suspended in time where the world fades away, leaving only the warmth of Jimin's embrace cocooning you. In his arms, everything feels perfect, an oasis of serenity where the outside world ceases to exist. The notion of staying like this forever whispers through your mind, tempting you with the idea that in this moment, nothing else matters.

An unexpected interruption pulls you from the enchanting dance with Jimin as you feel a gentle poke at your shoulders. Raising your eyes from the comforting haven of Jimin's shoulders, you discover his brother, Jungkook, extending his hand toward you. 

A soft smile graces your lips as your gaze momentarily lingers on Jimin before shifting back to Jungkook, acknowledging his presence with a subtle nod.

“May I have a dance?”Jungkook extends a hand toward you. Raising an eyebrow, you chuckle at the unexpectedness of the situation. Jimin, rolling his eyes playfully, releases his hold on your hips. The absence of his touch sends a chill through you, making you realize how accustomed you've become to his warmth. 

Despite the surprise, you accept Jungkook's invitation, placing your hand in his with a playful grin.

You allow him to whisk you into the swirling throng of dancers. A swift glance around the room reveals Jimin now twirling your sister on the dance floor, and Yoongi seated at a table observing Soo-ah's graceful moves as she dances with Hoseok.

“Beautiful dress,” Jungkook's compliment resonates as he gracefully twirls you around, mirroring the enchanting moves Jimin bestowed upon you moments before.

Gratitude colors your smile as you share, “Thank you. Jimin got it for me.” 

Pressed against Jungkook's chest, you sense the rapid thud of his heart beneath your hands, leaving you curious about the unspoken rhythms pulsing through him.

“He has good taste. I actually wanted to ask you something,” his words drip with a blend of confidence and mischief, the edges of his smile flirting with a smirk. Tingling sensations cascade through your body as he hints at something more, leaving you on the precipice of anticipation.

“How’s Jessi been?”

His unexpected question catches you off guard, and as you pull away, you're momentarily flabbergasted. The realization of why he's asking dawns on you, and a laugh escapes your lips, dancing with a mix of surprise and amusement.

“Happy,” happiness fills your voice as you whisper the word, swaying in rhythm with him to the beat of the music.

“Good. I talked to her after you left, you know?” His words hang in the air, and you catch a mischievous glint in his eyes. He smiles, chuckling softly, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine as he leans in, speaking softly into your ear after dropping the bombshell.

He did? You didn’t know that. Surprise colors your voice as you inquire, leaning in slightly to catch every detail. 

“What do you mean you talked to her?” You press, your curiosity piqued, eager for him to unravel the mystery he's hinted at.

“I just told her she shouldn’t be so hard on you and that you’re sisters and that’s important, you know?”

Heartwarming warmth floods your chest at his words, and you find yourself captivated by his genuine concern for your relationship with Jessi. His comforting smile, revealing a hint of sincerity, assures you that he genuinely cares about the bonds that connect you both.

“Ah, so you’re the one I should thank,” amused by the unexpected ally, you laugh, realizing Jungkook's subtle intervention played a part in smoothing things over.

“No, I just—” His words hang in the air, but you swiftly interject, unwilling to let him complete his sentence. 

“You've been spending more time with Jessi, haven't you?” You pry, a knowing smile playing on your lips. It's amusing how effortlessly he crumbles, a subtle dance of emotions flickering across his face. He tries to conceal it, but the transparency of his expressions betrays a tale he's unwilling to share.

He appears to be fumbling for words, caught in the delicate dance of secrecy. Perhaps he's reluctant to share, so you playfully add, “I've noticed you haven't batted an eye at any other girls at this party,” a teasing smile dancing on your lips. His reaction is priceless, a momentary lapse where he feels laid bare and exposed.

Silence hangs in the air, and you decide to let him off the hook, allowing him a moment of peace. However, you can't help but find it endearing that your sister wields such a powerful influence over him. There's a touch of amusement in the revelation, a whimsical twist in the dynamics that brings a smile to your lips.

Abruptly, the music mellows, drawing your focus to the soulful melody of a piano gracefully dancing through the air.

Unexpectedly, the enchanting notes of a piano fill the air, and you're startled to discover that Jimin is the maestro behind the captivating melody. His fingers delicately caress the piano keys, producing a hauntingly beautiful melody that captivates the entire room. 

The lively dance floor comes to a hushed standstill as the mesmerizing notes draw everyone toward chairs and the couch, creating an impromptu audience enchanted by Jimin's musical prowess.

His fingers glide with exquisite grace across the keys, coaxing a melody that feels both familiar and utterly enchanting. Drawn to the magnetic pull of the music, you find a seat on the couch, positioning yourself close to Jimin, eager to immerse yourself fully in the magic he's weaving with each delicate keystroke.

As he plays, he transcends the ordinary, bathed in an ethereal glow, his tousled blonde hair cascading gently around his face. With closed eyes, he immerses himself in the music, fingers gracefully pirouetting on the keys. A nervous nibble on his lip is followed by a rhythmic sway of his head, perfectly attuned to the piano's cadence. 

Then, with a voice as soft as a whispered secret, he begins to sing, weaving familiar lyrics into the air, each note carrying a tender reassurance that wraps around you like a warm embrace.

A hushed reverence blankets the entire room, each note from the piano and every word that escapes Jimin's lips a mesmerizing symphony, weaving a spellbinding silence that captivates the collective breath of everyone present.

In the tender embrace of the piano's melody, Jimin serenades the room with the soulful lyrics of a John Legend song, each word an intimate confession that resonates with the universal longing for acceptance and love. 

“‘Cause all of me loves all of you. Love all your curves and all your edges. All your perfect imperfections. Give your all to me, I’ll give my all to you,” his voice, a velvet caress, turns the lyrics into the very essence of romance materialized, casting a spell on every heart in the room.

Your heart dances to an erratic rhythm within your chest, intoxicated by a flood of emotions that defy definition, a kaleidoscope of love and sentiments swirling through your being.

He effortlessly continues to serenade, his voice a sublime melody that transcends beauty. Each note carries the weight of raw emotion, a soulful outpouring that echoes the depths of his soul and leaves you spellbound, as if he's baring his heart for the entire world to witness.

Emotion swells within you, threatening to spill over in the form of glistening tears, yet you valiantly resist the urge, determined to savor every precious moment of Jimin's soul-stirring performance. 

His voice, a gentle caress, and the delicate piano notes intertwine, creating a tapestry of emotions that resonates deep within your being.

As the final notes gracefully fade into the air, a thunderous applause erupts, reverberating through the room like a shared heartbeat. The resounding cheers and admiration affirm what you already knew — Jimin's musical prowess is a revelation, an ever-unfolding enchantment that leaves everyone, including yourself, captivated and yearning for more.

Jimin rises from the piano, the resonance of his final chord lingering in the air like a sweet melody. He strides purposefully toward you, his fingers gently entwining with yours. A magnetic pull between your hands beckons you to a silent adventure, and as your eyes lock onto the point where your skin meets his, he murmurs, “Please, come with me.”

With a determined grip, he whisks you away into the cool night air, attempting to drown out the exuberant hollers and shouts of the gathering behind. Despite your efforts, a subtle blush creeps onto your cheeks, responding to the playful symphony of sounds that trails behind you.

Beyond the backdoor, on their terrace, he envelops you, arms forming a gentle yet assertive barrier against the wall, creating an intimate space where the world outside ceases to exist.

Your breath quickens, and your thoughts race to catch up with the whirlwind of sensations. Time seems to accelerate as his lips draw near—is this the moment he's about to capture you in a kiss?

His scent, intoxicating and divine, envelops you as his lips playfully graze your cheek. A breathy sigh escapes your lips as he leans in close, his voice a tantalizing murmur in your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

“Brothers talk,” his hushed words in your ear send an electric jolt through your entire body. Your mouth falls agape, a rush of warmth flooding your core, and your heart races at a dizzying 200 beats per minute. Wait— did he just say that?

The air outside suddenly feels stifling, as if the temperature has spiked, and every breath you take is saturated with Jimin's intoxicating musky scent, leaving you deliciously dizzy and struggling to catch your breath.

His words hang in the air, a provocative challenge that leaves you breathless. The danger of his statement lingers, creating a charged atmosphere filled with uncertainty and anticipation.

“I know you slept with Jungkook,”  as his words caress your ear, you remember the look on his face when he saw you pressed up against the barn with Jungkook’s dick deep inside your cunt, and the thought sends a jolt through your entire being. Somehow you feel guilty, you don’t know if it’s because he witnessed something he definitely shouldn’t have or because you just shouldn’t have slept with Jungkook in the first place. 

His figure presses against you, and you struggle to maintain composure, your heart's rapid beats echoing the intensity of the moment. The fine line between vulnerability and acceptance blurs, and you grapple with the consequences of his whispered revelation.

He positions one of his solid thighs between yours, applying a subtle yet deliberate pressure against your core, causing an involuntary gasp to escape your lips. The electric tension in the air intensifies, as you find yourself ensnared in the grip of a desire that threatens to unravel all sense of restraint.

And in a breathy whisper, he confesses in your ear, “And I don't mind. I like you.” 

His words, a symphony of desire, reverberate through your being, finally acknowledging the unspoken connection that has woven its way between you.

With a tender touch, you draw his upper body back, craving an unhindered view of his face. Your eyes lock with his, passion swirling in those blown-out orbs. The perfection of this man captivates you. 

“I like you too, Jimin,” you confess in a breathless murmur, your words tinged with a subtle lick of anticipation.

In the charged silence, your eyes lock in an unspoken understanding, the air thick with desire that could be sliced with a knife. 

You find yourself entranced by the sight of his soft, plush lips, and he mirrors the sentiment, slowly closing the gap between you. Inch by agonizing inch, the magnetic pull intensifies, promising a moment of electric desire. However, the spell is abruptly broken as the door swings open, startling you both and freezing his movements in their tracks.

Jungkook's eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of you, a sheepish chuckle escaping his lips. “Oops, my bad,” he admits, an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

As the tension dissipates into laughter, the night seems to lighten around you. Jimin's laughter intertwines with yours, creating a symphony of joy. In the darkness, his eyes sparkle with mirth, and Jungkook, making a swift exit, leaves you and Jimin bathed in the glow of shared amusement.

“Should we go back inside?” 

Jimin's gaze lingers on you, his question hanging in the air like a promise. His soft smile invites you to rejoin the lively atmosphere inside, and with a subtle step back, he extends a hand, a silent invitation that speaks volumes, allowing you to catch your breath in the sweet aftermath of intimacy.

You draw in a breath, letting the weight of the night settle on your shoulders before exhaling a sigh of surrender. 

“Yeah,” you respond, the word carrying the echo of unspoken thoughts and the unexplored tension lingering in the air.

You're gearing up Marshmallow for a ride with Jessi, the anticipation building between you two as you prepare for a sisterly escapade, just the rhythmic sounds of hooves and shared laughter ahead.

Jessi swiftly readies Cinnamon, her determination matching the spirited horse, while you expertly secure the bridle on Marshmallow. Together, you step outside the barn, ready for the open trail that awaits, the promise of adventure lingering in the air.

“I’ll show you a river that’s close by,” your sister's eyes light up with excitement as she swings her leg over Cinnamon's sleek body, her enthusiasm contagious. Eagerly, you mirror her actions, mounting Marshmallow with a sense of anticipation, ready to discover the hidden wonders she promises by the nearby river.

Your horses pound the ground beneath them as you gallop together, the exhilarating rush of wind tousling your neatly braided hair. 

The rhythmic percussion of hoofbeats serenades your ears, echoing amidst towering trees that frame the distant silhouette of majestic mountains. Following Jessi's lead, the breathtaking revelation of a picturesque river emerges, its beauty captivating your senses with an awe-inspiring allure.

The expansive river unfolds before you, adorned with subtle cliffs in the distance. As you guide your horses down to the water's edge, the radiant sun bathes you in its warm embrace. Dismounting, you find a peaceful spot on the grass, surrounded by the tranquil symphony of nature's melody.

Jessi turns to you, her eyes filled with warmth, and confesses, “I’ve really missed you, you know?”

You respond with a gentle smile, “I’ve missed you too.”

As she absentmindedly picks at the grass, the horses peacefully grazing nearby, she continues, “Not just since you came back. I've missed you since your dad took you away.”

Her words tug at your heart, resonating with the pain you've long carried since your dad took you away. It's a shared ache, a silent acknowledgment of the wounds that time couldn't completely heal.

In a tender embrace, you whisper through tear-filled eyes, “But we're together now,” sealing the unspoken promise of shared moments, mending the fragments of time lost.

Her smile brightens as she leans into your sideways hug, asking, “Yes. I was actually wondering if there's any project on the ranch you'd like to take on. Anything that sparks your interest and passion?”

Excitement bubbles within you as you pull away from her, sharing, “Oh, yeah, there is something. Sometime ago, Jimin mentioned those wild horses Yoongi's working on. I think that could be a fascinating project.” Your smile radiates with genuine enthusiasm.

Your sister returns your smile, saying, “Yeah, just talk to Yoongi, and when the wild horses come back, you can go with him.”

“I also long for our time together, just staying close and catching up,” you express with tears welling in your eyes, your voice carrying the weight of genuine emotion.

“I’d like that too,” she responds warmly, enveloping you in another heartfelt hug.

Time seems to waltz away as you sit in companionable silence beside your sister, the rhythmic grazing of your horses creating a soothing melody. It's only when Jessi finally breaks the tranquil stillness that you realize how deeply immersed you both were in the moment.

A knowing smile plays on your lips as Jessi gently broaches the subject, “I noticed you and Jimin,” she starts, and you respond with a subtle nod.

A playful poke to your shoulder accompanies Jessi's words, “He's genuinely into you,” she declares, her smile carrying a warmth that hints at her approval of whatever there’s blossoming between you and Jimin. 

With a light laugh, you confess, “I like him too,” accompanied by a gentle rub to the spot on your shoulder where Jessi playfully poked you.

“But it's still kind of strange, you know? I mean, I slept with his brother. Won't it just make things awkward?” You sigh, laying bare the complexities of your thoughts. As much as you're drawn to Jimin and appreciate his assurance that it doesn't bother him, the idea of ‘brothers talk’ lingers in your mind— whatever that means. You're determined to avoid any comparisons, not just for their sake but for yours as well.

Jessi bursts into laughter, her high, infectious giggles prompting you to turn your head toward her. “Okay, I partly understand. But come on, they're only half-brothers. We're all just people here; it's not like it's something incestuous or anything.”

You sigh, conceding that she might be right. 

Then, you catch on to her words. ‘We’re all people here,’ you repeat, leaning in closer to her. 

“You and Jungkook?” You inquire, a glint of understanding in your eyes, and she responds with a knowing smile, “We’re just friends though. I’m still seeing Namjoon.”

“So you don’t think it’s weird that I slept with Jungkook?” You inquire, genuine curiosity lacing your words.

“No. Jungkook has slept with so many people, why would I care?” Jessi laughs, and after a moment of contemplation, you offer a nonchalant shrug, conceding that she might have a point.

Nestling into her embrace, a gentle sigh escapes your lips, “Thank you.”

Her gaze meets yours, confusion etched across her features, “What for?”

A gentle chuckle escapes your lips, and a surge of warmth fills your chest, “For being my incredible sister.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[trancylovecraft]

(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro (CHAPTER SEVEN)

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CHAPTER SEVEN: "The souvenirs of a lost country, the hope of a promised land. This divorce between the woman of her life-"

@crazycatlddy

A scar is apart of the wound repair system in the skin, Being a natural part of the healing process. Things such as stabbings or slices are known to leave rather large and noticeable marks.

"Okay.. So start from the beginning, Take your time and make sure to be as detailed as you can!"

A wooden chair dragged forward with a screech towards the side of the bed, Mitsuri promptly sat herself down on it. Front facing the chair and her head resting on the backrest with a happy-go-lucky grin.

It was early morning, The warm sun only hung just over the distance.

Tender white clouds were woven on the far horizon leaving the rest of the elysian blue clear as acrylic glass. The windows were open in the butterfly mansion to let a feather-like breeze float its way into the room.

A sharp ray of sunlight was brought in too, Shedding light into the unlit room. Particles of dust and fluff floating through were made lucent in the shine as it overlooked the two women.

Mitsuri clicked her pen and readied her notepad with a happy hum.

The chartreuse of her irises were speckled with a star-like glow, A kind of glow that hadn't been present in weeks and burned like the sun.

Maika could near feel it's tender yet scalding warmth when she looked up from her bed as the woman spoke again.

"Go on now! Make sure to not leave anything out, Okay?" Mitsuri spoke with a peppy outgoing tone, One that contradicted her previous demeanour when Maika first greeted her. The bags that were under here eyes were gone along with the mess of her strawberry locks, Now neatly tied into nicely made braids.

Maika clicked her tongue, Trying to recollect her thoughts.

"Well.. It all started when I traversed down to the village in search of herbal medicines. [F/N]-sama had chest pains at the time and we were out of any remedies so I had volunteered to go and get some for her.." She started. A hand was rested on her chin in an mime of thought.

Mitsuri nodded and hummed, Quickly scribbling down something onto the paper in front of her.

"Go on!" She pipped, Continuing to write.

Maika nodded.

"At the time I had brought a Kakushi with me on [F/N]-sama's orders.. We had gotten down to a stall and the merchant and the Kakushi got into a fight. When I backed off.. I.. I was suddenly yanked into an alleyway." Maika said as her eyebrows lowered.

Mitsuri raised her eyes over the notepad, Proceeding to write yet her attention partly dragged itself to Maika at the light of new information.

"It was.. It was Uppermoon six, I.. H-He held me by neck and asked me about the Kakushi I was with.." Maika's voice grew softer as she recalled the memories.

Mitsuri clicked her pen and nodded.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. It must of been awful for you being in that kind of situation, I can barely imagine it myself!" Mitsuri laughed airily, A way of trying to breaking the tension "The new Uppermoon six was mentioned in the report filed by Himejima-san, What happened next? If it's too much we can try this again in ten minutes?"

Maika looked back up at Mitsuri, Obligation already present in her eyes.

"No! No.. I want to be of help, I want to make sure I can tell you everything while its still fresh in my mind." She rebutted, The fire in her eyes didn't quite match Mitsuri's but that didn't mean it didn't put up a fight.

Mitsuri's smile spread.

"Kyah~! You're really admirable, Heihachiro-san. I appreciate your determination a lot you know." Mitsuri squealed, Voice sweet as parfait.

A faded flush rose up on Maika's cheeks, She smiled shyly.

"T-Thanks.. Well.. Anyways, I was able to escape by stabbing him in the neck with the Kaiken all of the shrine-maidens carry around.. I ran out into the street and met up with the Kakushi.. Not for long though as the Uppermoon quickly caught up to us." Maika said.

"And how did you escape?" Mitsuri queried, Leaning further towards her.

Maika inhaled, Taking in a deep breath.

"Well, Before I did he attacked me. Sliced me on the back and injured me pretty badly.. The Kakushi was able to distract him and he ordered me to run. I didn't want to but I had no other choice, So I did.. I ran off into the mountain" Maika replied.

Mitsuri followed up her explanation with a quick squiggle onto the notepad, A single brow comically furrowed while she sung a quick song under her breath.

"The Kakushi.. Right! And after that you were able to make it all the way back to the shrine in time to see [F/N]?" Mitsuri asked once more. The fire in her eyes stoked as soon as she mentioned the name.

Maika paused for a second, Trying to recall what happened. The entire thing was a snowy blur, The mist on the mountain that day was now clouding her memories as she looked back with a hazy eye.

"Erm.. I.. I can't remember how I got back, The most I remember was a general direction and a will to live I guess.." Maika chuckled. "But before I knew it I was there, And suddenly a a wall collapsed onto me. I don't know how much time passed after that but next I know there was Fujimori-sama and the demon fighting."

Mitsuri's breath hitched. The point after she had been dragged off by Seijun, The point where everything fell into obscurity. None of fact or knowledge but instead theory and assumption.

[F/N] was eaten, That was the general consensus. It was one that made Mitsuri feel sickened, One that made her keel over and her head spin. It was the only rational explanation due to the body being missing. It was the only reasonable one because there was no one there to see it happen.

No one except Maika.

"They had been fighting for a while it looked like. Eventually it reached this sort of peak and Fujimori-sama went in for a neck slice.."

"And..?" Mitsuri mumbled, Leaning even forward on baited breath as she waited for Maika to finish.

"And.. And.. The demon cut open her stomach, [F/N].. She fell to the ground next to me, Laying against the wall bleeding out…" Maika spoke softy, Sensing it would be a tough topic for the woman perched over her bedside.

Mitsuri's smile gradually turned into a frown as the maiden spoke, Her lip trembled as it morphed into a frown. She steadied her breathing when it picked up once more, Keeping a steady rhythmic flow in her lungs.

A demon actually able to defeat [F/N]? Unheard of! If Mitsuri was told so a few months ago she would of waved it off as heresy. But now with everything that's happening, It didn't sound so unbelievable now.

She had been injured badly by the sounds of it. Cutting open her stomach Maika said, The mere thought made Mitsuri bite her tongue. It was worded like it was fatal but..

"Yes.. Yes I see.. But you said that [F/N] is alive.. R-Right?" Mitsuri's voice quivered.

Maika paused for a second before slowly nodding.

"I had lost a lot of blood at that point so it's a little fuzzy but I had went over to her side to see if she's okay.. Fujimori told me to hide myself in the rubble.. I did as she said and a few moments later the demon had came out from the smoke." Maika said.

Mitsuri clicked her pen once more, Her cheery attitude before had dissolved into something more serious as the conversation took a darker tone. She wrote down a few more sentences, Dotting down what Maika said with careful importance.

"He had walked up to her, He.. He went on some long-winded rant I think.. Insulting him and.. And her haori, Yes.. He took interest in her haori." Maika said. The entire thing was fresh in her mind yet it felt so underdeveloped inside.

"And..?" Mitsuri prodded

"And then he went to take off her mask.. It.. I don't know how it happened but suddenly Fujimori-sama had became [F/N].. I.. It happened in a blink of an eye, But then.. Then the demons entire demeanour just.. Changed.." Maika said.

"How so?"

"The way he felt.. It was so intimidating before, It felt powerful and.. And absolutely terrifying but once he had lain his.. eyes.. On her face he just.. He reached out and cupped her cheek then he just.. Started crying." Maika explained.

As she spoke disbelief was flooding her voice like a broken dam, Mitsuri felt washed away by it too. What Maika said? It didn't make sense..

"He was silent then.. He screamed, It was so loud and guttural it.. It sounded so painful and animalistic then he just picked her up and held her in his arms. Suddenly Uppermoon six was summoned to him and then they just left.. With her in the arms of that demon." Maika mumbled.

Mitsuri at this point was stunned speechless, The scribbling on the notepad had stopped a good while ago in favour of processing this new information. A demon, One that seemed to have some authority over another Uppermoon.. What changed once he unmasked her?

A demon crying was near unheard of, Only in their last moments were they ever reported to show such emotion. Did the demon recognise [F/N]? But how? Mitsuri knew her better than anyone, If she had any contact with a demon she would of known.

But to be fair, Her failing to know was how she was in this situation in the first place. Mitsuri couldn't be sure.

"I'm sorry but.. After that I don't remember much, I.. I might of passed out but all I know now is that I'm here, Explaining what happened to you.." Maika murmured. While she knew she explained most of what she knew a part of her ruminating in her chest felt as if it wasn't enough, As if it wasn't helpful at all.

Mitsuri shook her head.

"No, No! Don't be sorry, You've been extremely helpful and I'm so glad that you're okay. I'm just gonna ask one or two more questions and then I'll be out of your hair, Thank you so much!" Mitsuri comforted.

Her hand snaked over to Maika's which lain limp by her bedside, Mitsuri's fingers wrapped around Maika's palm and held it with a tight yet comforting grasp.

"Right.. That's fine.." Maika smiled lightly, It was nice to get some reassurance after everything's events.

"Alright.. So the demon in question, Could you please explain to me what he looked like?" Mitsuri asked.

Maika squinted her eyes, Trying to get a good picture of the culprit in her mind. He was the kind of demon who could be mistaken for human on first glance but a few details stuck out immediately like a dandelion in an orchid field.

Maika rubbed her chin, Piecing the portrait together.

"Well.. He was tall, Erm.. Human looking, Spiky ponytail, Hakama and purple kimono.. Uhm.. Ah-" Maika shot up, Seemingly remembering something. "Right.. Right, How could I forget.. He had six eyes. I.." Maika trailed off suddenly lost in thought. Mitsuri flipped a page in her notepad and jotted down the description of the assailant.

Powerful, Definetly, Especially if he could take down [F/N]. Being able to defeat her spoke miles in strength.

"Six eyes?" Mitsuri asked.

"Yes.. Yes and- OH!" Maika exclaimed, Taking a loud gasp which instantly made her start to cough up from the sudden jerk of her body.

"What, What's wrong?" Mitsuri asked, Squeezing Maika's hand in a futile attempt to console her sudden outburst. Maika wheezed lightly, Fixing her breath and speaking with a hoarse voice.

"T-There was kanji in his eyes, He wasn't just any demon.. He was Uppermoon one." She rasped, The hand holding Mitsuri's squeezed tighter as he free hand moved up to her throat to check.

Mitsuri paused mid inhale. Her eyelids expanding at the final syllable as she stared down at Maika, Seemingly mulling over the information as it started to churn in her head.

She made no movement for only a moment, All before slowly nodding.

Uppermoon one. [F/N] was kidnapped by Uppermoon one.

It seemed ridiculous, It seemed like a pipe dream with smoke rising up in the air, Easily wafted away by the stroke of a hand. Mitsuri wanted it to be a result of mistake or blood loss, An accursed mirage caused by delirium.

But it added up. The demon was able to wage victory against [F/N], Uppermoon six seemed subservient to him and everything Maika had testified thus far made sense. Mitsuri didn't want it to be true.

But she took a deep breath, Held it for a moment before exhaling out. But she needed to accept the reality. According to Maika, Her best friend was kidnapped by Uppermoon one. For what reason she didn't know and dearly wanted to.

"Right, Okay.. I.. I see. Thank you so much for your help, I can't express how much I appreciate this, Heihachiro-chan!" Mitsuri warbled. Her same peppy smile rising back on her face as she got up from her chair. She placed the paper and pen into her obi, A makeshift pocket.

"I'll leave you to rest now, I truly hope you make a full recovery soon! Take care, Okay?" Mitsuri quickly bowed down in a polite gesture of gratitude, Hand slipping away from Maika's as they went down to her knees.

Maika nodded.

"Alright then.. Stay safe!" Maika called out to Mitsuri as she walked away, Already at the door The Love Hashira turned back and waved her farewells.

"Bye, Bye!" Was the last thing she said before stepping out the door and shutting it behind her, Leaving Mitsuri alone within the long winding hallways of the butterfly mansion.

As soon as the door shut with a resounding click! she was left only to hear the loud noise of the silence.

Mitsuri propped herself up against the door, Back hitting the maple and supporting her up like a harness. She breathed in and out, Trying her best to keep the rhythmic beat of her heart to a minimum.

But it was fruitless. Mitsuri's cheeks grew a shade of blossom, Her hands slapping the sides of her face as she squealed in euphoria.

She pushed herself up from the door. Mitsuri couldn't contain the sheer exhilaration pumping through her bloodstream as she spun around, A way to exert the happiness as her braids trailed behind her gliding movements.

[F/N] was alive. She was really alive.

Her attempt had failed. Mitsuri knew that it wasn't completely confirmed, The demon had taken her, What happened after was a mystery. But if he had taken her he must of wanted her alive for some reason, Right?

Mitsuri paused in her movements, The smile on her face near ear to ear as she tried to cool down the inferno of her blush.

"Mitsuri-chan!"

A voice called out from down the hallway, Snapping Mitsuri out of her ecstasy and guiding her head to the left.

Shinobu walked down the passageway, Head held high with a small smile and glossy eyes as they spied Mitsuri. She looked content, Yet Mitsuri could see the curious gleam under the morning light.

"Shinobu-chan!" Mitsuri greeted, Prancing lightly over towards Shinobu and stopping in front of the shorter woman with a swing in her step and her hips as she stood in front of Shinobu.

"Mitsuri, You're in a good mood." Shinobu commented, Cocking her head to the side.

Mitsuri hummed lightly.

"Really? Is it that obvious…? Oh who am I kidding, Of course it is!" Mitsuri exclaimed, Jumping up and down on the spot as she hummed. Shinobu smiled in return, The change in mood from yesterday was drastic.

It was good, She seemed to be back to her old self. Though there was a reply to that observation, Only one thought going through Shinobu's mind at the moment.

But at what cost?

"I suppose Heihachiro-san had some good news?" Shinobu queried to which Mitsuri quickly nodded.

"Yeah! Well.. As good as it can be I guess but the main thing is that [F/N] is alive! I feel so happy right now, I just can't contain it!" Mitsuri grinned, Swaying her hips side to side.

Shinobu clicked her tongue.

"Do you mind giving me the rundown?" She asked.

"Ah, Yes.. Hold on!" Mitsuri nodded quickly. Her hand instantly stuffed itself in the side of her obi and tried to fish out something stuffed inside it. Shinobu wondered to herself why on earth she was holding things in there before Mitsuri pulled out a little notepad and pen.

"Here you go!" Mitsuri announced, Holding out the notepad out to Shinobu to take with a grin. Shinobu took the item into her hands and started to flick through the pages.

Mitsuri watched on as Shinobu looked through her writing, Mumbling out the words as she read the scribbled writing. Shinobu raised a brow as she reached the end of the verse.

"Kidnapped? By Uppermoon one of all demons.." Shinobu gawked, Eyes fixed to the sentences as she read it over a second time.

"Great, Right?" Mitsuri responded with glee, A reply that felt unfitting for the news of her best friend being maimed and whisked away by one of the most elusive figures within the slayer's world.

Shinobu's brows lowered.

"Mitsuri-chan.. If what your reporting is true then you do understand the implications of her kidnapping, Correct?" Shinobu inquired. But by the looks of Mitsuri's slowly shrinking smile, Shinobu didn't even need the answer she gave.

"Of course I do, But don't you get it? [F/N] is alive, She's not dead! It's good news, Don't you see?" Mitsuri said, The gleeful spark in her voice seemed to dim only a little bit. It was still present yet it definetly faded.

Shinobu sighed.

"Yes, I do. But she was taken for a reason. What if she was taken for information, What if she was being tortured-"

Shinobu cut herself off, Pausing to find the right words to say.

"..What if she has been turned into a demon, What will you do then?" Shinobu asked lowly, Her voice only kept between them. The prospect of [F/N] being turned into a demon was a real possibility, If she was then the indications would not look good. Both for the two of them and the demon slayer corps themselves.

Mitsuri looked at Shinobu dead in the eyes, The malachite hues shone under the sun. Near burning with fire of the same calibre.

"Then I guess I'll just need to ask where Tanjiro-san got his box." Mitsuri replied so casually that it took Shinobu off guard, The corners of her lips quirking if only for a moment before turning back into that same porcelain smile.

"I see.." Was all Shinobu said as Mitsuri walked past her, Off to somewhere Shinobu didn't know. Mitsuri turned back to Shinobu, Giddy grin reappearing on her face.

However when Mitsuri's shoulder brushed past Shinobu's, She stopped in her tracks. Her face was unable to be seen by the shorter woman, Her eyes not looking back at Mitsuri's.

"I failed [F/N] once, Shinobu… I'm not going to fail her again, Never.. Never ever again." Mitsuri whispered.

That was all she said, Footsteps picking back up as she walked down the hallway.

"We'll talk soon, Have a good day Shinobu-chan!" She called out, Then turned the corner and walked away.

☆♡☆

The silence reverberating down the hallways was nigh-unbearable, A drone that stopped at a stand still and seemed to never continue on.

The sawdust scent burned at the tip of [F/N]'s nose, Her eyes wide and aware of the demon in front of her. His presence catching her off guard, Not expecting to see another soul wandering about the confines of her birdcage.

Upper three appeared to share the sentiment, His face mimicking her own expression perfectly if not for the demonic features prominent on his visage. Sharp fangs shining under the light, Cracked glass eyes that seemed to burn into her and sharp navy stripes wrapping around his entire body.

"You.. What are you doing here?"

His voice called out, Slightly echoed within the high walls of the corridor. It sounded fairly deep, A hint of a boyish tone under the serious and accusing hiss near spat out from his throat.

[F/N] stared him down. The sharp inhale she took stuck in her lungs as she looked over him, Judging his stature to his clothing all the way to the angles that made up his cruel face.

But.. She didn't feel scared.

Kokushibo felt like a firm hand of authority, A dark presence that just dripped in power. It was one that could make any person tremble in fear regardless of status, The sheer aura that radiated from his soul made [F/N]'s insides turn and want to puke.

But it was different with this one. He didn't command authority or did he have any overwhelming presence (At least, Not for someone like [F/N]). While it was powerful in its own right it instead felt more accusing than anything, And strangely enough it didn't feel threatening or dangerous.

It infact felt similar. The first impression of his looks and the read she got off of his aura reminded her a lot of certain boys from her childhood, One's which memories made Goosebumps raise up on her skin and her fingers itch in irritation.

And they were something she could handle.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" [F/N] responded, Folding her arms and trying to keep up a tough demeanour in front of him to try and hold some ground. The annoyance in her voice a second-nature to the demon's behaviour.

She thought she was alone here, That it was just her and her captor but now as [F/N] glared at him she now knew that it wasn't the case.

The demon's nose scrunched up at her response, Offended at her audacity to ask her of such. His teeth started to bare a little more, Gums barely showing out from under his dry lips with his eyes narrowing to a sharp tipped glare.

"Do not question me, What are you doing here? Who are you? This place isn't meant for any kind of human being, How did you get in here?" He hissed, Taking a single slow step towards her, One that echoed out from the sheer weight.

[F/N] backed up foot in tandem with him, Keeping them both at equal distance. She pinched her temple, Groaned once before mumbling under her breath a string of curses.

"Okay.. Number one, I don't even want to be here. Number two, My name is [F/N] Fujimori" She started.

"Number three, I don't even know how I was brought here, I don't even know where 'here' is so if you could enlighten me then that would be great!" [F/N] replied, Mimicking the demon's hiss in a sarcastic mockery yet it held the dragging undertone of desperateness.

[F/N] didn't even know where she found the guts to speak to upperrank three like this, She figured it was probably the built up agitation from the past few.. Well, She had no idea how long it had been. She only knew the mix of anger, Hopelessness and melancholy fester inside her like an illness.

The demon gawked, Maybe it was at the new information provided to him or maybe it was the gall she had to speak to him that way. Either way however, He felt his own agitation start to match hers.

"You are in the Infinity Castle, The demons headquarters. How a weak human woman like you got in here without even wanting to is a joke." The demon responded through gritted teeth, Eyeing her up and down.

How some weak looking human woman got into the infinity castle baffled him. As soon as he turned around the corner and spotted her he felt a jolt of surprise shock his dead heart. What he would do he didn't know, This was a woman and as such physical violence is out of the picture.

"The.. The Infinity castle. The demons headquarters." [F/N] repeated back to him. "A joke, Does it look like I'm laughing?" She said, Leaning in a little bit to emphasise her mockery.

"This is not funny, How you got in here is a major security risk and a threat to you and us. So tell me now what the hell you did to get in here?" The demon snarled.

Even though his tone was venomous he hadn't made a move to attack or even touch her in any way, Just limited to threats and demanding tones. It was unusual behaviour for who she would assume would be upper three, But deemed it safe to continue.

"I have no idea how I got here! I was kidnapped!" [F/N] exclaimed, Throwing her hands up in the air as an overdramatic gesture.

"Kidnapped? By who?!" He interrogated.

"Oh! I don't know.. Uppermoon one, Perhaps?" [F/N] hissed, Taking a foot forward to get up in his face. [F/N] bit back her tongue, Wondering if she had went too far once his face fell. But she kept up her guard and her mask, Stand your ground.

"You were kidnapped by Uppermoon one?" He repeated, Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

"Correct."

Upperrank three stood silent, The two of them were only separated by half a foot. His nose was still scrunched up in what looked to be a mixture of disgust and disbelief, One that she'd been wearing a lot herself recently.

He took a single step back, One that made the old floorboard creak within the quiet passage.

"Why would.." He mumbled lowly under his breath, More to himself then to her.

"It's complicated." [F/N] responded, Huffing lightly.

The demon looked back up at her. It seemed as if the shards in his eyes and the amber hue of his kanji stained irises were sizing her up, It was similar in the way how you would square up your opponent in a fight. Examining every muscle, Checking the chances of victory.

"So why aren't you killing me?" [F/N] asked. Even though his stare radiated that of an adversary, He made no move to fight. A behaviour [F/N] wouldn't assume of the upper rank three.

"What?" The question she asked seemed to make the demon break out of his train of thought.

"Why aren't you trying to kill me, Before you knew I was brought here. You're upper three right? So.." [F/N] trailed off in her sentence, Seeing that he had already gotten the meaning to her question.

The demon groaned.

"I don't kill or raise my hand against women, Even if I did I wouldn't waste it against a weak human being like you." He retorted, Folding his arms in a display of what only could be described by [F/N] as a faux show of morals.

[F/N] sighed, The one time her mask would be really useful. The one time when she would really need it. He wouldn't harm her as a woman, He wouldn't kill her as a woman. In other words that was off the table.

Why was it that every time she got that one chance it would be ruined by some bullshit reason? It seemed like every turn there would be some curveball thrown to stop her path. It was irritating to say the least.

"Ugh.. Whatever you say I guess. Have your principles or.. Something, I don't know. I'm just gonna go find somewhere else to wander about in.." [F/N] grumbled, Scratching the back of her neck and turning around to start trotting off to wherever "somewhere else" was.

The demon 'tched. He watched her drag her feet down the hall, Shoulders slumped and a grumpy far-away gaze. As she turned the corner he was left with an assortment of questions.

Kokushibo, Uppermoon one. Why would he kidnap her? Was it on the orders of his master? Maybe.. But if that was the case Akaza suspected that both him and Douma would of been informed of her bounty.

Was Kokushibo doing this on his own volition? Unlikely.. But not impossible. He was loyal to a fault to that man, Even to the point of fanatisism. But what if he was keeping her here by his own will?

Akaza didn't like it when women were harmed in any way, He had to ball up his fists when the other Uppermoons talked about their deeds towards them. It irked him, It gave him curiosities and questions.

Ones that built up on his tongue and were dying to spill out.

Akaza clenched his teeth and turned back towards the stairs.

It's better to keep his nose out of whatever's happening here, For now at the very least. This didn't involve him and if Kokushibo wanted her dead then he would of already done the deed.

☆♡☆

The obsidian black shade of the nights sky loomed over the small village. Dotted with glittering specks like eyes looking down at the mortal plane.

It was quiet, The only sound was the light rustle of tree leaves in the cold midnight wind passing by. It swept over the low valley the silent town sat atop of, A chill running down the spine of whoever may come in its way.

Not that they would. The houses and the buildings, The restaurants and the streets were all completely empty.

Candles went unlit, Light usually emanating from behind the windows didn't show up tonight. Bowls full of fresh food sat on top of restaurant tables went untouched, Stuffed animals played with by children went abandoned.

There was no sign of life at all in this village, None except for one.

Slow footsteps clad in well-made leather shoes wandered the empty streets. The sound reverberated along the wooden panels of the houses the man passed. The moon sat high signalling midnight, The soft rays shining down on his form.

Muzan paused. The golden laced waistcoat and blouse he wore was in pristine form, Perfect to the very last fold in fabric. No stain or spot to be found once he stopped in his steps.

"Kokushibo."

His calm voice sung out into the silent night. He didn't even need to turn around to know that he was behind him, Kneeling down in respect and honour before him.

"Muzan-sama." Kokushibo replied. He was kneeling down, Head tilted towards the ground to bare his neck amongst his hair. Kokushibo made no move to get up from his position, The two parted by a good few metres.

Muzan turned around to face the Uppermoon. His scarlet eyes scanned over him, Veins visible in his irises as he stared. His face was hardened with a cold expression, Yet it seemed more relaxed compared to that of how he treated someone such as Akaza or especially Douma.

It was more trusting, If you could even call it that in the first place.

"I assume you know why you have been called today" Muzan questioned. Wine stained eyes waiting for his subordinate's answer.

Kokushibo was silent. His body still before his master, Crouched down he mulled over his reply. He infact did know, He had been expecting this for a good while. However how he would explain was still something he had no clue on how to phrase.

"Yes.. I believe this is about the Kakushi base.. That me and Uppermoon six got into a few weeks ago.." He answered. Head raising up from the ground slowly so his amber hues could meet the maroon of the progenitors.

Muzan hummed.

"Correct. I believe that you were able to destroy the main base of operations there" Muzan asked, Tilting his head to the side in question. Urging him to go on.

"I was able to destroy the entire base.. Yes." Kokushibo confirmed, Letting Muzan nod slightly at his response.

He walked a little closer to the Uppermoon, A single step echoing softly from within the confines of the silent village.

"And what exactly were you able to get out of it?" Muzan queried once more. The question of the century. Both Muzan and Kokushibo were on more levelled ground compared to the other Uppermoons, Even going as far as to calling Kokushibo his near equal, A business partner of sorts.

The keyword is 'near', However. Kokushibo was loyal to him like a dog, Fanatic and subservient by choice. Even though he had the decision of being a kind of contracted servant he had denied this in choice of full compliancy and order.

That's why it was so hard to explain what Kokushibo had done on instinct, For once in his long life he felt himself speechless in front of him. While Muzan could very well peer into the caverns of his mind and take a look for himself, Due to Kokushibo's high standing it was a sign of respect not to.

Either way, Kokushibo knew what he had to say.

"..While in the midst of destroying the base I came face to face with that slayer you had informed us about.. The one who slew one thousand." Kokushibo started, Slowly getting up from his kneel to stand on his two legs while he explained.

Muzan's thin lips morphed into a small frown at the remembrance of the slayer.

"And I assume you were able to take care of him?" Muzan asked. Kokushibo didn't respond for a second, Making his master's eyes narrow in suspicion.

"No.. This is where it gets more complicated.. And where I selfishly ask for you to lend your ear.." He trailed off for only a second, But the words that came before rose a narrow eyebrow on Muzan's face.

"Why? Did you not succeed in killing him? Of all the Uppermoons I did not expect you to fail against a slayer.." Muzan commented, A comment which he knew would strike Kokushibo right where it hurts and it showed in how he subtly clenched the hem of his haori.

Muzan, He always had a way to dig into the insecurities of the people around him both Human and demon. An off-handed comment or a simple look was enough for him to have his claws on whoever he targeted. And the pride festering in Kokushibo was absolutely no exception.

"..No, I was able to take the slayer down.. However.. Whilst I was about to kill him.." Kokushibo trailed off once more. An oddity of the Uppermoon, The usual calm and unbothered demeanour was absent and instead replaced with a hesitant drawl.

Muzan took a few strides forward towards the taller man, His steps reverberating against the derelict streets. Kokushibo didn't falter an inch once his master reached out a hand, Two bony fingers extended to press on the temples of the Uppermoon.

Kokushibo stood silent, Jaw locked as he felt a sudden surge of energy come from between his eyes. A searing shock, He could feel the sensation of prying eyes into his memories like claws combing through an archive.

It pulsated. Kokushibo felt as if his head was cracked open, Brain on display for Muzan to see as his fingers removed themselves from Kokushibo's temples.

Muzan took a step back, His action finished as he stared up at his subordinate with an unreadable expression to the normal eye but Kokushibo could see the irritation arising from him. He hummed, Eyebrows tightly knitted together.

"I.. I see.. So the slayer was.." Muzan trailed off. His nose twitched in agitation, The fact that the slayer hadn't died and infact turned out to be someone unexpected entirely was.. Irritating to say the least.

He didn't speak after that, So Kokushibo took the opportunity to do so.

"Respectfully.. Before you say anything more I ask of you to let me explain.." Kokushibo asked, Courteous in tone as always. Muzan looked at him, Crimson irises staring him down.

Muzan raised a hand to his chin, Clawed fingers covering his mouth in a display of thought.

"..Your sister? Ah.. Right, I remember now. The one you spoke about a few centuries ago, The one I provided you a vial of my blood for." Muzan commented, His cat-slit eyes widened slightly at the realisation.

Kokushibo nodded. The memory of that night coming back to him. The tiled rooftop at the dead of night, A night very similar to this one. Muzan had came to him with an offer, One Kokushibo just couldn't resist.

The night they stood eye to eye. The one where Muzan offered him a chance at eternal life, A chance to hone his skills and live past the dreaded age of twenty five. A way to surpass Yorichii.

Kokushibo remembered it well. Once Muzan had offered and set down the deal Kokushibo had bargained, He didn't mean to but it didn't mean he regretted it either. The words just slipped out of his mouth.

"What? Is this not enough for you? What more can I possibly offer you?"

"I ask that you provide more of your blood, Not for me. But for my sister dying of an incurable illness.. That's all I ask and then I will do whatever you ask.. Whatever you ask.."

Muzan had accepted rather easily and once the three days of transformation was up he had awoken with the vial gripped tightly in his hand. If only he had gotten back to [F/N] in time.

If only.

"Correct.. She is back with me.. I am currently keeping her in the shrine replica in the infinity castle.. I am sorry I did not ask for your permission, However due to her injuries I thought it was necessary.." Kokushibo apologised, Bowing his head down low to represent that. Muzan hummed once more.

"I am not concerned about where you are keeping the girl, I am concerned about how you were able to let an opportunity like this slip by you. The Kamado girl, Nezuko Kamado.. She was there, Was she not? Not to mention the boy with the hanafuda earrings.." Muzan replied.

The air around them seemed to grow sharper, A thick edge made of the oxygen they breathed. It turned cold, Colder than it already was. Kokushibo took a deep breath in, The boy with the hanafuda earrings, He didn't need to be reminded once more of him. How Yorichii's earrings were turned into a family heirlooms he had no idea, But he didn't want to remember right now. He'd figure out how to deal with the boy later.

But the Kamado girl, He had failed on that front. That was something he couldn't deny, He had failed to capture her in favour of saving his sister. But that didn't mean he had no more course of action.

Kokushibo raised his head, Looking at Muzan in the eyes.

"Yes.. I was unable to capture them.. Fortunately however.. Since I have brought my sister back home I have come to the belief that she is able to assist on that front.." Kokushibo started, His voice was low yet concentrated. A confident lilt.

"Since she is a Hashira.. A special kind at that.. I strongly believe she knows the whereabouts of the Ubuyashiki estate.. If I am able to get this information out of her we will most definetly be able to both take down the corps.. As well as capture the Kamado's." Kokushibo finished. Finality lifting his tone up as he stood his ground in front of Muzan.

Muzan paused. He didn't say a word.

His eyes narrowed, He appeared to be contemplating over Kokushibo's words. Mulling over his proposition, Thinking it over with utmost care. If Kokushibo was any lower in ranking or had any less respect, Muzan would of tore him to bits for his audacity to speak to him with such equality.

The silence around them was louder than any wail or scream that came after his arrival, Though it was broken once he, Muzan, Decided to speak.

"Alright then. If that is the case then I assume you'd be wanting to turn her into another demon then? You agree that it must be the best course of action, She wouldn't need to confess where it is when it can be done with a quick look into her mind, Yes?" Muzan inquired.

True, It would be incredibly easier to turn her into a demon and get the information that way. Not to mention that it would be more agreeable to Kokushibo, So much so that turning her into a demon was one of the first thoughts in his mind when he saw her again.

However..

"No.. Currently that is not an option.. With the injuries she sustained during her fight and the fact that she is a breath user.. I fear that she might die if I give her my blood right now.. Besides that.. Right now she isn't in the best of moods.. She's rather confused and in a sort of rebellious phase currently.." Kokushibo replied.

For a human to become a demon, Their blood must mix with that of Muzan's. The cells coursing throughout his bloodstream doing the job of processing them into such.

As such, Every demon has a concentration of Muzan's blood.

Especially the Uppermoons, The most powerful of the bunch. Normally Muzan would be the only demon capable of turning others, However due to the high concentration in the Upperranks blood they have gained the ability to turn others as well.

However, While the Uppermoons have a high concentration it is certainly not pure. If they were to inject their blood into a human being on a whim the person has the ability to actively fight it off similar to an illness.

It means that the transaction has to be consensual, The human has to willingly drink the blood and accept that along with the approval of Muzan himself to become one. Not to mention a breath user requires much more blood than normal due to their skills and talents.

Even if Kokushibo was to ask of pure blood from Muzan, The chance that [F/N] would be able to break free from his curse after transformation was a very real possibility. It's why Muzan occasionally asked for people to become demons instead of just outright doing it, Tamayo was a warning of what might happen.

If he attempted to turn [F/N] now, Her injuries and the amount of blood he needed to give might just kill her. Even if she survived and became a demon, Kokushibo guessed that there would be a very good chance that she would get away from Muzan's hold. And if someone like [F/N] was to break free of the curse, It would signal an issue at the very least.

It had to be consensual, Kokushibo knew that much.

"I see.. And you believe you are able to convince her of such?" Muzan asked. The proposal that Kokushibo had lain out seemed to finally click inside his head, Idea's and thoughts forming. Forgetting Kokushibo's failure entirely.

"In time, Yes.. Once she has calmed down and I have been able to resurface her memories.. I know she wouldn't mind becoming one, Then.. It is only a matter of 'doing' afterwards.." Kokushibo concluded. Muzan nodded slowly.

"Yes.. But I must ask how you believe you'll be able to 'bring back' her memories in the first place, Are you even sure she is your sister at all and not just some random human girl?" Muzan asked once more, The final question.

"There is no doubt about it.. She is my little sister. I have considered every possibility… Including the chance that she isn't who I thought.. However due to recent information coming to light my worries have disappeared.." Kokushibo said, Remembering their recent talk.

"My best theory on what happened.. Is that she has been reincarnated after a good few centuries.. How that is possible I do not know.." He finalized.

Reincarnation, Before it was something he believed was dubious at best. It was something he never considered a possibility nor had it ever been proved, Not until now. The proof was there, Hopefully waiting for his return back home.

Hopefully.

"Alright then.. I will leave you to do as such and I expect you not to fail me again. I wish you good luck in your endeavour" Muzan said, Turning away from him and beginning to stroll away.

"I appreciate it greatly, Thank you, Muzan-sama." Kokushibo bowed once more as he walked off. The cool air of the night and the now derelict village turned to nothing in his wake.

The moon stood high in the ebony black sky, Hues of faded purple and mists of scattered cloud looking down at the quiet landscape.

Kokushibo took it in, Staying there for a while. Watching as Muzan started to get further and further away until he went entirely. Disappearing on the horizon.

Kokushibo licked his lips once, The faint smell of copper and iron danced along his nose. An emptiness in his stomach, He felt hungry.

It wouldn't hurt to grab food before he got home to see [F/N] again. While it ate at him to stay away for too long, The thought of what might happen to her when he's not there bit down into him.

But he needed to tend to himself. Feed, Get stronger. Kokushibo knew that he had to find food.

Maybe he'd take her out next time, Maybe it would be nice to bring her outside and get some fresh air to calm her nerves.

Besides, She'd need to learn how to feed on human beings once she became a demon and he was more than willing to teach her, Hold her hand and guide her along on the right path, That's what a good big brother would do after all.

He'd get her to turn eventually, Becoming a demon is what's best for her. Once she calms down and regains her old memories he knew that she'd be more than willing to become a demon. Kokushibo knew that she trusted him more than anything, He knows she loves him.

He'd wear her down, While she was extraordinary in her own right she couldn't keep acting the way she has forever. [F/N] had nowhere else to go, No one but him to turn to. But then again, She'd need to feel more comfortable to regain them.

Kokushibo would figure that part out later.

With that final thought he disappeared into the night, His figure fading from view as he went to find his next meal.

☆♡☆

[F/N] warily strode down the shrine hallway.

It had been a good while after her encounter with the Uppermoon. Sure enough he hadn't walked after her or tried to search her out afterwards, It was probably better that way. He wasn't going to kill her nor was he going to help her get out of here, So it's for the better if they just ignored each other.

At least, That's what [F/N] thought anyways. As she paused at the doorframe, Leaning her bodyweight into it she looked at the soft canary light pouring in from the other side of the corner.

[F/N] layed her head against the wood, Listening to the sounds of punching and hitting something unknown. It sounded fast, Furious and determined. It was a sound she often heard back when at the corps, Memories of training sessions coming back to her.

Days she'd stay up practicing her form, Days she'd spar with her comrades and all the mistakes they laughed over. It all felt so ready in her recall.

It felt sort of nostalgic. She had only been conscious for at least two days yet it felt so far away to her, Like the mountains on the far horizon at the shrine. It was a sort of comfort, A bittersweet taste on the tip of her tongue.

As the punching sounds continued she wondered how they were doing now. [F/N] knew she wasn't very well liked as a Hashira. Even though she was somehow considered the strongest among them, It was more of her attitude that put people off.

Colleagues like Sanemi and Iguro were especially unpleasant, Uncalled for comments and snide looks were always their go to. Every time [F/N] turned up late or showed a lack of respect they would be in abundance.

Even other's like Tengen or Rengoku had something to say at points. Others like Muichiro or Giyuu didn't pay much attention at all to her, Ignoring her entirely. Shinobu was one that she had shallow conversations with in passing, She was alright.

Mitsuri, [F/N] felt bad at her name being brought up again in her mind. Why Mitsuri still stayed with her for all these years was a mystery. Was it because she felt pity? Some long lost attachment or could it be because of their pact?

Either way she deserved better, Someone that didn't keep her tethered to the ground.

The memories swam around her, They hurt a lot. A sense of dread or guilt, [F/N] couldn't tell which it was but they held onto her like a hand, They hurt so much yet [F/N] didn't want to get rid of them at all.

As the punching sounds continued she listened on, Reliving the memories in her mind. She knew that the sounds most definetly came from the demon, She recognised his voice from the grunts and yells echoing a bit away.

She also knew she shouldn't of been drawn to them. She knew she shouldn't be taking a step towards them and she was very well aware that slowly walking in their direction wasn't a good idea.

But she continued anyways. Her cautious footsteps made slow creaks on the floorboards, Where she walked was unfamiliar. One of the rare places she didn't venture into on her previous scouting mission.

It was on the first floor, Dead centre. It must of been one of the modifications Kokushibo was talking about as she didn't recognise the architecture or the layout. She walked into the very wide open double doors, The light shining through the translucent paper windows and the cracks in the dark bamboo door.

Fresh air flooded her nose. [F/N] took a few more wary steps before the light hit her face, Making her raise a hand to cover her eyes.

Once her eyes adjusted, She looked upon the scene.

Tall winding wood, Branches twisting out from the bark and bursting into arrays of beautiful green leaves that shined chartreuse under the faux light. It was a tree, It was unlike any she had saw before.

It had the long turning branches of a Japanese pine yet stood as high as a Hyperion tree, Reaching up into dark sky above. The shrine surrounded it, The middle of the second floor and the roof gone to make way for it. [F/N] could spot glistening red apples hanging down from the dark oak, Shining and ripe. Ready to eat.

The sight amazed her. How a tree was able to get that big or how it was even here in the first place was astonishing, It was impossible yet it stood before her like a tower and looked down on her like a god.

[F/N] pried her eyes away from it, Looking around at where the tree surrounded.

It was wide open and [F/N] could tell it was the courtyard, Smoothed over dirt flooring with clumps of unmown grass standing before her. The walls of the shrine acted like the fortress surrounding the shrine, Boxing it up. The jacktop walling there, This must of been where the light was coming from..

PUNCH!

[F/N] snapped her head over. With the sight of the tree and the new area around her she was completely phased out to the fighting sounds, The reason she was here in the first place.

Upperrank three was in the far corner of the courtyard, He was dead-eyed staring at what looked to be a makeshift dummy. He was beating the living daylights out of it with a fire and passion [F/N] could see from a mile away.

It was very beaten so when it flew back from his punch and hit the wall of the shrine, Parts of stuffing came loose from within the seams of it.

[F/N] watched as he stood over the dummy, Worked up fighting stance as he looked down at it like a defeated opponent. She was somewhat impressed by his determination and energy, It showed through the beads of sweat rolling down his body and his heavy breathing.

She folded her arms over her chest, The warmth of the courtyard keeping her snug as the demon picked up the destroyed dummy and set it back in place. [F/N] frowned a bit, He really did remind her of the kids she grew up with.

"Hey." [F/N] called out. A quiet mumble as she watched him jerk his head around, Obviously unexpecting the sudden presence interrupting his training session. His eyes lowered on her.

"What do you want?" He interrogated, Shoulders raised high and on guard. A frown etched deeply into his cracked lips and deathly pale skin.

[F/N] sighed. She didn't really know why she decided to come so close in the first place, It was of course due to the nostalgic noise but it wasn't exactly something that was easy to explain to a demon like him.

She kicked a small rock with her foot, Toying around with it.

"Dunno.. I don't exactly have anything to do so I guess I just wanted to come see what you were doing.." [F/N] trailed off, Looking nonchalant as she slowly paced around the small exterior.

The demon groaned, Irritated by her presence. Even though he didn't harm women it didn't mean he'd treat her with respect either. That was fine, [F/N] was fine with returning the favour.

"Do whatever you want, I don't care." He said. Turning his bare back to her and refocusing back onto the dummy, Continuing his strikes onto the patchwork of the fake figure.

He didn't pay any more attention to her, Completely forgotten as he proceeded with his training.

[F/N] stood there awkwardly, The rock she had toyed with under her foot stood still. Why she decided to come in the first place without a plan or reason, It was stupid and she chided herself for it in her head.

Clicking her tongue once she slowly made her way over to the base of the tree. The small grassy hill it was perched on holding it up as [F/N] sat down within the vegetation, Nestling herself within the exposed roots comfortably.

She dragged her knees up to her chest, Sat within the shade of the leaves she watched the demon continue with his training. It was cosy within the leaves, The cool heat like a blanket on a winter's night.

Of all the places in the mockery of her shrine this was the one that felt the most authentic, Even though it wasn't even in the original it still held that sought after amenity that none other could replicate. It was nice, It was a distraction. It wasn't cold or uncomfortable, It was just fine.

"So.. What's your name..?" [F/N] asked. She didn't even mean to let the words slip by her lips, They came out on their own. She didn't mind though, Just curled up tighter and rested her head onto her knees.

The demon didn't even flinch, Nor did he turn around.

"Akaza." Was all 'Akaza' said.

[F/N] hummed, A bit disappointed on his answer. She wondered why but supposed that being kept up in here with only Kokushibo made her hungry for other forms of social connection, And his one word answer wasn't satiating at all.

"Why are you here anyways?" [F/N] asked.

"..I come here to train, I like this place because it's quiet and has no one around to bother me with meaningless questions." Akaza jabbed, His eyes focused on the task in front of him, The one that made his soul radiate with determination and fire. Burning bright.

Ignoring the insult. A neuron clicked within [F/N]'s mind. Fire, That's it. This is the one that killed Rengoku, The one the crow had called about on that fateful morning. A hole in his stomach and the Mugen train incident.

[F/N] remembered how she got it, The crow had landed on her shoulder during a ceremonial dance. It had to be paused just so [F/N] could go check up on Mitsuri, She didn't have a personal connection to Rengoku but Mitsuri did. Him being her previous master after all.

The crow had told of their bargain, How he wanted Rengoku to become a demon, To train with him forever. Rengoku, Being an upstanding and moral man had fiercely denied leading to his death.

[F/N] felt a twinge of disgust pang in her heart, One of her colleagues and this was the man who slaughtered him. While they weren't close it still was still a tragedy to kill such a decent person, He was strong and had a good heart. And it was punched out by this demon.

"So, Akaza.. Why are you training on a dummy so much? Don't you have any other Hashira to punch a hole through?" [F/N] queried. A poorly disguised jab at him, A snide yet knowing look on her face as she watched him side-eye her.

"..How do you know about that?" Akaza asked, Throwing one more powerful punch to the dummy making it topple over onto the floor.

[F/N] shrugged.

"What, How do I know about you killing off Kyojuro a few months ago? Do I really look that weak?" [F/N] asked. Yes, That was the correct answer and the one she said in her head. She had none of her support beams like the mask and sword that made her strong, But she needed to keep up her tough exterior.

If you let it down, You will be killed. An old voice echoing in her head, One she agreed with.

Akaza breathed air out of his nose.

"Of course you do, I don't know why you were kidnapped but you're definetly not happy about it. But you're not trying to escape nor do you look like your planning on trying to.. So yes, I think you're weak." Akaza replied casually, Turning around to meet her eyes.

[F/N] exhaled, Her brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Well, I tried running but it just brought me back here! I'm.. I'm still trying real hard to get out but I'm still figuring out how." [F/N] retorted, Staring right back at him with the same energy trying to match it.

"You might be a member of the corps, However you know it doesn't matter. I can see a weak person from miles away, I feel it in my skin.. They absolutely disgust me. Sounds to me you just tried running once and then gave up, If that's not pathetic then I don't know what is." Akaza argued.

[F/N] blinked. His words cut through her like a chilling blade and left frostbite in its wake, It hit hard and made her jaw drop agape. The gall he had to call her pathetic, The gall he had to point it out. It irked her to say the least.

She put each of her hands beside her, Hauling herself up from her comfortable position she stumbled before standing on two feet. [F/N] stared him down, Huffed lightly from her perch.

"Well then, If you're so horribly disgusted by my presence then how about you just get me out of here? You don't want me here and neither do I, So you get me out of this godforsaken place and I'll be out of your hair." [F/N] argued, Exasperated and tired as she stood strong in place.

Akaza shook his head.

"No, Absolutely not. I don't know why you're here but if you were taken by Kokushibo then there must be a good reason for it, I'm not getting involved." Akaza said, Speaking his name with such acidity that she thought wisteria was in the air.

[F/N] groaned loudly, She turned around and grabbed the back of her neck with both hands. Staring up within the foliage as if communicating with the kami. She started to feel irritated, Annoyed and very angry.

"There is no reason.. There is absolutely no good reason.." [F/N] mumbled, Moving a hand round to pinch her temples tight.

"What?" Akaza asked, Not being able to hear her.

"He's keeping me here because he thinks I'm his fucking sister!" [F/N] exclaimed, Sharply turning back to Akaza and taking a few steps towards him, Indignant and irate as she stood before him.

Akaza froze, His expression going blank as he processed the information given. [F/N] sighed. The anger she had before exiting her body as she flipped round and paced a few steps away from him, Trying to let it all go.

"You.. He thinks you're what?" Akaza asked, Bafflement in every word he spoke.

"He thinks I'm his sister.." [F/N] sighed, Resting her head in her palms. Akaza stood still watching the girl a few feet away from him. She was breathing heavily. Stressed, He could tell.

"..Are you?" Akaza asked once more, Words coming from his confusion and stammer.

[F/N] sighed, Stilling in pace.

"I don't know.. I really don't know.." She mumbled. The conversation her and Kokushibo had a good while ago, It resurfaced again. The nightmare that matched up to his story, What were the chances? They were so low, Nigh if not impossible.

Everything felt so alien, So strange and weird. Her emotions were in pieces and her thoughts even more so. Was she his sister? At first there was no way, Definite deniability. But now after their communication she had no clue, None at all.

[F/N] gagged lightly, Moving her arms down to her abdomen.

Akaza looked at her, Going over every muscle and fold in the sleepwear she wore. Her hair was a mess, She seemed like she hadn't showered in ages.

What was up with her?

First this girl knew about his encounter with Rengoku, Something only corps members and his family should of known about and she did not resemble Rengoku at all. His best guess is that she is a corps member, She had no fear when he approached her and strangely enough had no fighting spirit what-so-ever. An anomaly, Something not achieved by many.

But how? She didn't look like a slayer at all, Could it just be her nature? He couldn't tell.

Secondly she claimed that she was Uppermoon one's sister and that was impossible. Kokushibo was one of the founding members from over five hundred years ago, It was improbable but.. No.. She wasn't claiming to be as such, According to her it was Kokushibo who was claiming blood relation.

That was unlike him. Kokushibo, As much as Akaza loathed him with every inch of his being couldn't deny he was of respectable standing. He was calm and thought his actions out, He was smart and most certainly of sound mind.

"So why would he.." Akaza thought out loud, Half to himself and the other to the girl a bit away from him. He waited for an answer but only watched as she keeled over, Grasping her abdomen and starting to cough violently.

Akaza's eyes widened and his body moved before his mind did, Instantly running over to her side to examine any damage.

"Hey, Hey- What the hell happened?" Akaza shouted rather agressively, Hand grabbing her shoulder and adjusting her so he could see what she was grasping tightly.

Around her mid-section was a very bloody dressing, It seemed like it hadn't been changed and whatever injury she had sustained down there had possibly came open. Maybe it was from the sudden turn she made to face him or maybe it came undone on its own.

It didn't matter, She was.. Sick.. Akaza's instincts kicked up. It was one he wasn't sure he had anymore nor was it one he knew he had in the first place but before he could think he had hoisted a single arm under her armpit, He positioned her hand to wrap around his shoulder, Supporting her entire weight.

"Fuck- Damnit.." He cursed as [F/N] groaned in pain. He started to move, One foot in front of the other as they made their way out of the courtyard, The warm light fading behind them as they got into the cold passageway of the shrine.

"Do you have anywhere you sleep?" Akaza asked, Continuing to walk along. [F/N] looked up at him, Pain erupting inside her abdomen as she spoke.

"I- Ugh..- Upstairs.. My bedroom is upstairs.." She wheezed, Another group of coughs coming up from her throat as Akaza nodded. He mumbled a confirmation under his breath and started to direct her along to the stairway.

They got to the foot of the old rickety wood steps. Akaza made no more move to speak as he silently guided her feet along, One step at a time as they slowly made their way to the second floor.

Once they got to the top, [F/N] weakly guided him towards the select room with a feeble point. As they walked [F/N] wondered why he was helping her, Why his attitude changed up so quickly once she started bleeding.

Akaza pushed open the shoji door, It slid open with ease thanks to his immense physical strength. They walked inside, [F/N] limping along with him as he laid her down on the futon. Surprisingly with a careful touch.

Akaza hissed another round of curses under his breath.

"Alright.. Don't move, I'm gonna check your injury." He spoke quickly yet he didn't make any move until [F/N] feverishly nodded, In too much agony to disagree.

Akaza moved his pale hands down to her jinbei. Before it was oversized enough to shield the dressing entirely, Making it completely unable to be seen before.

He moved it up lightly, Showing off the ruby splotched bandages wrapped around her entire mid-section. Akaza worked quickly, Slowly peeling the dressing down to get a good look at her injury.

[F/N] wailed in pain, Akaza's spare hand moved down to her shoulder to keep her in place as the injury was finally showed off to him. He gawked, It was massive. A large cut from assumedly a sword was on display.

It was stitched up to the nines. It had been sterilized yet the thing that disturbed Akaza the most was how deep it seemed to go. This injury went more than muscle deep, This went right down into her organs.

This was a fatal blow. No human being would be able to survive this, Hashira or not. Especially since something of this magnitude would be unable to heal, The muscle and skin destroyed and showing off her innards.

It was impossible to heal yet the majority of it looked good as new, There wasn't even any scarring, Not a single mark to be found. The only remainder of it being the outline of the stitches plotting out where the injury would've been.

While it still was mostly healed over, A small part of it still seemed to be in recovery. The stitches there luckily weren't open, The pain must've come from the unsettled position that it was in.

"Ugh.." [F/N] groaned as Akaza moved away. He got up from his crouched position and went over to the dresser, Near impossible to see except from his illuminated aquamarine outline from within the dark.

Akaza grabbed a fresh roll of bandages conveniently sat on top of the dresser, Walking back over to the crippled girl lying on the futon he grabbed on to the bloody bandages. Unwrapping them slowly, [F/N] moaned in agony.

"It's fine.. It's fine.." Akaza hissed lightly under his breath as he finally got off the dressing, Cloth drenched in crimson sat in his hands. He tossed it aside into a far corner of the room, He'll deal with it later.

Unrolling the bandages he moved a hand under her to the dip in her back, [F/N] complied as he raised her up and started to wrap a fresh dressing around her abdomen. She huffed lightly, He was being so careful. It was strange.

He rolled a few more layers around her before tearing it off, Tying it neatly it settled in place. Akaza removed his hand, [F/N] lowering back onto the mattress with a groan she lain splayed out. Panting and breathing hard.

Akaza raised up, Looking down at the exhausted girl with an unreadable expression. Why he did what he did he had no idea, It was some inner response that held more authority than his own common sense.

He felt a chill run down his spine like cold water, He shivered, Shaking it off. This was bad, He should of stayed out of this. He shouldn't of kept interacting with her in the first place.

Akaza groaned under his breath and turned away from her, The bandage was already settled and done, All that was left was for her to get some rest. He needed to leave, He'll go out and find someone real to train with.

The floorboards ached under his heavy footsteps. He got to the frame of the shoji door before he heard her meek voice call out to him for a final time.

"R-Real motherly behaviour for a demon there.. Seemed like you're use to taking care of people" [F/N] mused exhaustedly, One final jab at him before he left.

It made him tense up, He had no idea why. Shoulders were raised and his muscles flexed.

"Whatever. Don't speak a word of me being here to anyone." Akaza commanded, But it was too late. When he turned back she had already fainted on the futon. Her body grown limp and her eyes fluttered shut.

Akaza 'tched. Grabbing the door he slid it shut, Leaving her in darkness.

He sighed. What occurred played out like a reel tape in his mind. She and Kokushibo, Related? Improbable. Yet..

He shook his head. It's none of your business. Just walk away, This doesn't involve you.

And he hoped it stayed that way. It was his last thought as he took off.

Disappearing in a blink of the eye.

Next Chapter

#yandere #yandere x reader #tw yandere #moodboard #yandere x you #demon slayer #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer x reader #mitsuri kanroji #kibutsuji muzan #kimestu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #kokushibo #kokushibo x reader #yandere kokushibo #yandere kokushibo x reader #kokushibo x you #upper moons #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo headcanons #kny mitsuri #demon slayer mitsuri #shinobu kocho #demon slayer shinobu #kny shinobu #mitsuri #kocho shinobu #kny x you

[leftoverenvy]

Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 30)

Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades.  Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune.  The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend.  As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur.  But money can't buy love, right?

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: smut; sugar baby relationships; age gap (16 years - but all over 18)

Word Count: 3.7k

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Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @5raysofsunshine 🌮; @reidselle 🦭; @swiftfiles 🐝💚; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @sadgirlml 🌻💌; @hotchs-bitch 🦆 ; @multiverse-mxdness ; @madelineleong ; @scorpsik 🎨 ; @heidss

A/n: Watch out for POV shifting in this chapter!

Chapter 30 - Reconciliation

Indi's POV: I stared at the ceiling, my eyes uncomfortable from the ceiling fan drying them out. It was an insignificant ache compared to the one in my heart. Alone I laid. Aching for Emily's arms. With each whirl of the fan I was reminded of each minute passing without fixing what I had messed up.

My night in the city was horrible. It was unbearable to go to bed knowing I had ruined everything with Emily. And as I laid in my tiny bed in my tiny DC apartment, I couldn't help but be annoyed by the sound. Cars were constantly honking, people shouting at all hours of the night. How had I ever preferred this cacophony of meaningless noise? I missed the peaceful babble of the creek and Emily's soft breathing next to me.

As I continued to watch the fan swirl dust particles above my head, I couldn't help the tears that leaked from the corners of my eyes. How could I have left all of that behind? What did I stand to gain by running back to my old life in DC? But Emily was gone. She didn't stop me; she wanted me gone. I had overstayed my welcome in her life.

This was only supposed to be temporary I reminded myself.

Penelope let me be for the night, asking minimal questions about why I had returned home in shambles and tucking me into bed. The only measure of time was the rotations of the ceiling fan and, hours later, the sun peaking over the horizon. Still, I could not sleep. Penelope snuck around the apartment as she got ready for work, trying not to disturb me. Still, I remained tucked away in my bed staring at nothing.

When Penelope returned home from work, she burst through my door without knocking. "What's wrong?" she demanded. I didn't bother to look away from the ceiling, the evening light catching the crystal on the end of the fan pull, refracting the light. "Seriously. Talk to me. Derek said Emily called in today. Spill it."

A breath caught in the back of my throat. Why should Emily take off work? I didn't dare let myself believe it was because she was just as upset as me. But it hurt to think that she was hurting.

Penelope moved into the room and sat at the edge of my bed. "Indi you cannot stay holed up in your room sulking forever. What happened?"

I sat up, tucking my legs up to my chest and curling my arms around them. I opened my mouth to respond but I had no idea how to explain what happened. I laid my head on my knees and sighed.

"Did she touch you without permission?" 

I whipped my head up in horror. "Of course not!"

"Then what? Take your money away?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing like that, Pen."

"Talk to me, Indi. I hate seeing you like this."

"She told me she loved me," I started.

"And that's bad because…?" 

I sighed. "It isn't like how the tabloids have been showing it. This was all just supposed to be a way to get through school. I wasn't supposed to…" I trailed off unsure how much to share.

"You fell for her."

"Bad. I just don't belong in her world," I lamented. "I'm not good for her. And now she's never going to know how I feel because I left all because of a stupid car."

Penelope crinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "You lost me…"

"My car died. And Emily took care of everything. Like, she had it towed and had a mechanic look at it. And it was so so sweet of her. I was just so stressed about paying that bill so I was already on edge," I said without taking a breath. "And then when I got home from school yesterday, Emily had already bought me a brand new fucking Audi. Can you believe that? She's just throwing tens of thousands of dollars away, spending that kind of money on me without a second thought."

I paused, trying to figure out why this had been such an issue for me at all. "I just got overwhelmed. I'm not worth it, ya know? And I just got trapped in my head. Because how could Emily, perfect Emily, want anything to do with me? I'm-"

"But that isn't for you to decide, is it?" Penelope interrupted. "Shouldn't Emily get to decide what's worth it? To have in her life? To spend money on?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Yes, she should. I just can't fathom why she'd choose me. And I flipped out yesterday."

"Nothing's unfixable, Indi."

Tears leaked out of my eyes, overwhelmed with sadness again. "She didn't come after me, Pen." I pawed angrily at my tears, angry that they revealed how vulnerable I was truly feeling. "She just let me leave because she doesn't want this anymore." It all felt hopeless. Even though Penelope had said anything could be fixed, I just couldn't believe that this could. I'd messed up too badly.

"Did she tell you that?" she asked knowingly.

"She didn't have to." Penelope raised one eyebrow at me. 

Before I could respond, Penelope exclaimed, "Wait! If your car died, how did you get here?"

I turned my head to stare at the car key sitting on my bedside table. I laughed dryly at the irony. Four, silver rings of the Audi logo shined back at me mockingly. I reached over and flashed the new key to Penelope.

"You owe Emily one hell of an apology," Penelope joked.

______________________________

Emily's POV: When the garage door closed after Indi, I flopped on the couch in defeat. She wouldn't even look at me as she scurried out of the house, bag in tow. And why should she? I had overstepped. I had scared her by telling her how I felt. We never agreed this was for love. How stupid I was to let my guard down and fall for her. After all, we had agreed what this was from the start. How could I expect her to feel the same for someone sixteen years older than her?

But how could I expect to be the same without her?

I looked around my empty house. She was everywhere; there wasn't a single inch of this place that wasn't marked by her. I thought about how on this very couch, we shared our first kiss, her thighs straddling mine. I let my eyes wander over to the kitchen island where countless times I had picked her up and sat her on the counter because I just couldn't stand to go a second longer without her lips on mine. I stared at the piano imagining all the times she sat there and how beautiful she was when she immersed herself in the music. Now, the only sound was the deafening tick of the clock passing each second she spent speeding away from me back towards her real home.

I couldn't stand to stare at the piano any longer. Just days ago she had sat on that very bench and played a song written for me.  I shook my head at how foolish I had been to read more into it than was there. I remembered how mesmerized I had been by her fingers trailing over the keys, and how it led me to trail my own down her body as a thank you. 

I stormed out of the room, sick at the memory. Sick at the realization she'd never be mine to touch like that again. 

But she followed me like a ghost in my own home. When I laid down to sleep later that evening, I could still smell her on my sheets. I inhaled deeply, trying to absorb as much as I could. I wasn't one to cry, but Indi's absence left me desolate. Tears stained her pillow as I buried my face in it to be as close to her as possible. This was the closest I'd ever get to her again.

I barely slept that night, tossing and turning, mad at everything. Mad at the cold, empty sheets next to me. Mad at the universe for introducing such an angel into my life and then cruelly ripping her away. Mad at the crickets chirping away outside preventing me from falling asleep. Above all else, mad at myself for letting her walk out the door without protest.

All night, I wrestled with what it meant that she left. But she had left in the Audi. Was that her silent message that she'd be back? That she didn't hate me? I didn't dare let myself think it might mean she loved me too. But she left. Of course she wasn't coming back. She got what she wanted; she didn't need me anymore.

My phone ringing startled me awake around 6:15. Groggily, I rolled over to grab it, wondering how I had fallen asleep with such a heavy heart. "Hello?" I mumbled.

"Em!" JJ greeted. It sounded so wrong out of her mouth. She didn't say it right. It wasn't sweet like when Indi said it. It almost sounded condescending, even as a greeting at six in the morning. "We have a case."

I groaned, flopped on my back and put my hand over my eyes.  No no no.  I couldn't leave the state now. I had to make sure India was sure in her decision. Not to mention, I'd be absolutely useless right now. "No," I whispered. "I can't make this one. I'll call Hotch to tell him."

"What's wrong?" she asked. My skin crawled at the entitlement in her voice – like she deserved to know anything about my personal life.

"Nothing, JJ," I sighed. "Just leave it alone."

"I know something's wrong." Her voice softened, "You can talk to me; I'm still always here for you." 

To shuffle her off the phone, I placated her, "Thanks, JJ. I'll keep that in mind." 

"Is it her?" she asked with distaste. I refused to answer. "Look, we all went along with this for a while because you seemed happy. But what are you doing? You should be with someone a little more appropriate…you know, for your age."

A tear leaked from the corner of my eye.  I know, I thought. Because India deserved someone who wasn't always jet setting across the country, someone who wasn't near two decades older than her. But there wasn't anyone better suited for me. 

Changing the subject to avoid any further conversation with JJ, I reminded her, "I'll tell Hotch I'm calling out for this case," and hung up before she had a chance to say anything else.

I quickly sent a text to Hotch: Need time off. Calling out for this case.

It wouldn't have been unfair for him to question why, but I was thankful when he sent a simple: OK. I'm here for anything you may need.

I exhaled a sigh of relief. I tried to fall back asleep, but was incapable of shutting my mind off. Was it a mistake to call out? What if India didn't come back? Was I just supposed to call out the rest of my life waiting for her to love me back?

I laid in bed another forty-five minutes waiting for sleep to claim me again. I squeezed my eyes closed tightly, begging my mind to shut down long enough to get some sleep. But the harder I tried to quiet my thoughts, the more insistent they became. 

I had to do something – anything – to distract my mind. I rolled out of bed and wandered into my office to draw. I grabbed my favorite sketchbook and pencil set. Immediately, my hand started flying over the page. Quick, dark, angry lines. I filled page after page of a dark horizon, storm clouds looming large over a tree line. I flipped to a clean page, begging myself to draw something less dramatic.

I considered drawing Indi, but I thought seeing her face looking back at mine, even if just a sketch, would hurt too badly. I sighed and set the pencil down. Sketching wasn't going to cut it today. I needed an outlet for this boiling anger inside me. I quickly tied my hair back, grabbed my gun and left for Quantico. I needed to hit the range.

Once I got there, I tried to sneak in the side door, curious if the team had left or if I'd run into them in the building. That would be horribly awkward to explain. 

Once I made it to the shooting range safely, I clipped a paper target up and slid it back into place.  The lingering smell of gunpowder was calming, familiar. I widened my stance, and lifted my gun, rapidly firing several rounds in a row. Before I knew it, I had emptied my clip into the chest of the target. 

I fired bullet after bullet and loaded clip after clip, tearing the paper target to shreds. But none of my anger faded. 

Who was I really angry with? When I tried to parse it out, I realized I wasn't angry at all. I was devastatingly, crushingly hurt. Was my love so repugnant that India would rather leave than be loved by me? Is that why everyone in my life always ended up leaving?

Of all the heartbreak I had had, none hurt like this. It was as if when she packed up her belongings, she reached in my chest and took my heart with her. It didn't matter though, because everything I had – everything I was – was India. Whether she returned my affection or not didn't matter. I would never love anyone like I did India Mae Banks.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Hopeful it was Indi, I nearly dropped my gun to empty my hands as quickly as possible. Disappointment crashed over me when I saw it wasn't Indi calling, but my mother. I considered sending it to voicemail. After all, how could I possibly endure a conversation with JJ and my mother in the same day? Ultimately, I thought a small part of me wanted to talk to my mother. I longed to have that close relationship where we could talk about things like this.

"Hi, mom," I answered softly.

"Emily! It's wonderful to hear from you. How have you been?"

"I'm well," I lied. "And you?"

"All good, not much is new, I'm afraid. How are things with India?"

My breath caught in the back of my throat, tears welling in my eyes at just thinking about talking about her. "Uh, well." I bit at my nail, residue of gun powder bitter on my tongue. "She's…"

"What's wrong?" she asked gently.

"I guess we've just run our course," I lamented. I couldn't get into it all because I refused to tell my mother India had just been a ruse to prevent her from nagging me about being single.

"Oh I doubt that very much. You two looked so in love the last time I saw you." My eyebrows raised in surprise. She had been incredibly unpleasant the entire evening of the gallery opening. I had thought she hated Indi based on the age gap alone. "Emily, I know you probably won't really tell me what's going on – you've always been so closed off. But if she's important, don't let your walls and pride become a barrier to you patching things up.

"You have a hard job," she continued. "You always have. You deserve whoever makes you happy."

Tears streamed down my face. "I don't deserve her," I whispered.

"Do you wonder if she feels the same? Emily, we come from money, status. You're a beautiful and intelligent woman." My thoughts reeled. My mother had never had a kind word to say, preferring to highlight all my shortcomings as a daughter, instead. "Isn't it possible she thinks she isn't good for you?"

"I'll think about it, okay?"

"Don't think about it too long, or you'll lose the one you love."

When she disconnected the call, my heart was pounding in my chest. Could Indi be feeling as insecure as me? As much as I hated to admit it, my mother was right: I needed to put my pride aside. I couldn't give up so easily, sulking alone and feeling sorry for myself. I had to give it one more shot; I had pouted long enough. I wouldn't let her leave us behind like this. This wouldn't be the end of us – we were too special to end like this. I wouldn't let us fizzle out all because I was too proud to ask how she felt about us. I quickly cleaned my gun and re-holstered it, eager to get into the city.

I scrolled through India and I's first messages to confirm her old address, silently praying she did actually go back to her old apartment. Once I punched it into the GPS, I peeled out of the parking lot.  Please be home. When I parked, I practically ran up to her door, cursing myself for not rehearsing the best way to apologize to her. Before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked three times.

______________________________

Indi's POV: "Just go back, Indi," Penelope encouraged.

"I can't!" I whined. "She probably hates me now. I left after she told me she loved me."

"I guarantee you she doesn't hate you."

Petulantly, I asked, "How would you know?"

"Because!" she huffed. "Derek talks about what a change he's seen in Emily. You don't know how she was at work and how she is now. He said she just lights up when she's texting now. No doubt that's because of you."

Butterflies fluttered lightly in my abdomen. Could it be true? I snapped back to reality. "But that was before!" More softly, "I've ruined that now."

"At least call her," Penelope tried again. She had been trying for an hour to get me to reach out to Emily, gently reminding me how stupid I had been.

"What would I even say? I messed up so bad."

"Tell her how you feel. Tell her-" Three quick knocks interrupted Penelope.

I quirked an eyebrow at her. "Who's that?"

Excitement lit Penelope's eyes. "I have a hunch," she said knowingly. A confusing melange of emotions welled up inside me. Excitement that it could be Emily coming to fix things. Dread that it could be Emily returning my belongings. Anticipated disappointment that it wasn't Emily at all. I smoothed my frizzy curls down and tucked stray hairs behind my ears, certain my hair looked wretched after laying in bed all day. "Get it," she hissed, gesturing to the door.

Before my nerves could talk myself out of it, I pulled the door open, gasping at seeing Emily. For a moment, we just stared at each other, drinking the other in. My heart clenched at seeing her; she was so beautiful. I wouldn't survive hearing her tell me this was over. I looked down, begging my eyes to stay dry.

"I'm sorry!" we blurted at the same time. I wrinkled my brows in confusion. 

"What do you have to be sorry for?" I asked.

"It was too much. I didn't mean to overwhelm you. And I didn't think about how a big purchase would make you feel." I couldn't say anything, overwhelmed by her extending a peace offering, by giving me a second chance. "I'm also sorry for telling you I loved you. We haven't talked enough about our relationship for that to have been fair to just spring on you."

I chuckled ruefully. Emily Prentiss was truly the perfect woman and there wasn't even a small part of me that deserved her. Before I dove in head first, I needed to try one more time to get her to see that she deserved so much more than me. I couldn't help it. I knew that I wouldn't be able to give her up a second time. "You're too good for me, Emily. I don't belong with you. You're so perfect, and I'm just…not," I finished lamely. "I'm so flawed. What could you possibly want with me?"

She cupped my face, a gentle smiling playing at her lips. "Baby, I know you're not perfect. But you're perfect for me. And I want it all with you. I need you." She looked deeply in my eyes, begging me to understand. "Please come home." 

The way she said 'come home' broke my heart. So achingly sweet and desolate. A tear escaped, and she swiped it gently with her thumb. Maybe it was possible she needed me as much as I needed her. 

All I had ever wanted was home, and Emily had become home for me. I fled Washington trying to escape memories of home and family so brutally taken from me, but I'd been so unhappy in DC without home or family. Then I had found both in Emily, and by some miracle, I hadn't ruined it. She still wanted it too. "Yes," I agreed.

An enormous smile slowly spread across her face, showing her perfect teeth. It made my heart skip a beat, how astonishingly beautiful she was. "Yeah?" she asked incredulously.

I pulled her face down to mine for a kiss, silently promising my future to her. She tried to deepen it, her smile preventing her from succeeding. I pulled back, breaking our kiss. "No," she whined, pressing her lips back to mine, her hand wrapping around my waist to pull me closer.

"Wait," I said arching my back slightly over her arm so I could look deeply in her eyes. "I love you, too." If it were possible, her smile grew even wider. "I love you so much, Emily Prentiss." She pressed her forehead against mine and sighed deeply. I wrapped my arms around her neck. "And I'm so sorry. I won't run again. I'm so sorry I left. I love you, Em."

She started kissing me in earnest, pushing me back against the door jamb. Her hands kneaded at my hips, pulling me tightly against her as her tongue laved at mine. "I'm so sorry, angel," she whispered between kisses. "Please don't leave again."

My heart broke at her request. "I swear, babe. Never again," I whispered against her lips.

Continue to next chapter

#🌬 fics #tastes like sugar #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #wlw writing

[cherry-pop-elf]

Princess Treatment

George Weasley x AMAB Wheelchair Reader

Warnings: 18+, Improper use of a wheelchair, P in A, Bottom George, Semi public, and fluff

“There you are, love!” A familiar sweet voice would catch your attention. George Weasley. The co owner of the Wizarding Worlds favorite prank shop. A school drop out gone super star. How did you get so lucky? He was kind, smart, compassionate, and well. Rather god damn fine. That’s a perk for sure.

“Hey-!” You would beam, as you rolled your chair from the back of the shop. The fact the twins owned the flats behind the shop was certainly making life easier. Able to just live on the bottom floor, and avoid any stairs at all. Just roll right into your boyfriends shop, and check on him. Life was a little easier. You’ll take what you can get.

“There’s my Jellybean-“ He beams, as he would rest his hands your wheelchairs arm rests. Enjoying a sweet kiss with you. Seeming to smile a few inches wider, whenever he got his morning kisses. Like you were just as important to start the day as a cup of coffee.

“Need help with anything?” You would ask, as he pulled back. Sure, you couldn’t do much, but you still always asked. Just to feel like you could do more. And George always found a way to make sure you could do more. Sometimes in the more unconventional ways, but it still helped at the end of the day. One way or another.

“Actually, yeah. Need you in the storage room real quick.” George said, before walking off. You would roll yourself behind him, as he would open the door for you. Once inside, he would make sure to close it. Leaving you to the many shelves of boxes, products, and what not. Only illuminated by the light source of the window showing outside. Casted the room in a eerie flutter of dust particles and shine.

“What do you need help w-“ Before you could finish, you suddenly felt George spine your wheelchair around. The two of you faces together, before he turned the locks of your device. You were left rather confused, as your boyfriend soon took a knee in-front of you. Even doing such, he held enough height to be eye to eye with you.

“I need help treating you right. I’ve seen you all frowny the last few days. I need to fix that.” He playfully said, as he rested his arms in your lap. Keeping very close, as he ghosted his lips with yours. Always such a teasing bastard. Had you shutter, as you were essentially trapped to do whatever his bidding asked for. Unlike what most people made you feel, being anxiety, George didn’t. It wasn’t a fear of being stuck. It was a thrill.

“Let me take care of my little princess.” He whispered, before he planted a kiss onto your lips. Gentle, and slowly, it became deeper. Your arms wrapping around his neck, as he rested his on the arm rests of your chair. Using it to force himself to make the kiss deeper. Running his tongue across your lips. Begging as much as you were. You happily allowed him in, before he was suddenly sitting in your lap

He was there to make you feel good, and focus on you. Always was such a sweetheart like that. How his hands came to your face, and letting his callused thumbs brush your your cheeks. How he grinded against you, to earn more moans. Right there in his work suit.

“Let me take care of you-“ He whispered into your ear, before you watched him undo his belt. He would soon be forcing his pants down. Straight to his ankles, and making sure you saw him in all his glory. That’s when it dawned on you what his plans were. “You aren’t-“ You muttered, as he smirked. “I am~” He sung, before he forced your pants down next.

Those hard working hands were happy to start stroking you off, as you were stuck holding your chair tighter. You wanted to be quiet, as you were still in a storage closet. Sure, the shop is louder, but George was good at making you louder. That teasing smirk of his, on freckled cheeks. That bastard. Your bastard.

“Wonder how sturdy your wheels are….” George chuckled, as your face burned brighter. You swore it was probably glowing, as he would smear your pre cum all over your shaft. Making sure he had something to work with. You couldn’t deny the thrilling feeling this was giving you.

“Better stay quiet, jellybean, because it sure would be awkward for anyone to see this.” He snorted, before his arms were around your neck. Before you knew it, he was lining himself up above you. Just planning to out right ride you, in your own wheelchair. There was such a feeling of taboo about it, and you couldn’t explain why. The perks of a boyfriend whose whole job was to experiment and invent the wildest things.

“Is it bad that I’ve wanted to do this for a while-?” George asked, making you roll your eyes. Of course he did. His laughter made you smile in return, as it was just a nice moment to share. That is, until he pushed himself down. Your nails dug into the cushion of the arm rests, as George would bite at his lip. Having gone in rather dry after all.

“Got a nice burn-“ He shuttered, as he was snug in your lap now. Taking you all in, like he’s done many times before. Just in his dress suit, and ready to ride you until his own legs needed your damn chair. “Ready when you are, princess.” He teases, as he would plant a sweet kiss to your jaw. It was all so good, and he didn’t even start moving yet.

With a moment to adjust, you finally nodded. With the consent, he would slowly start rising his hips. Up and down, with his eyes fluttering. Was just the perfect amount of rough, with tender touches. Just what he loved. With teeth deep into his lip, arms around your neck, and just having a time of his life.

You swore his creativity would either get you killed, or make your life a thousand times easier. Such a gamble with him, and you were an addict. With the fact you were parked, you were happy to have your hands on those freckled hips. Helping guide him along, as his own were around your neck. Just leaving the two of you in moans and sweet whispers.

You were scared you would begin to become to loud, but your boyfriend always seemed to be able to solve any problem you had. Besides, ya know, the wheelchair situation. He would steal your lips into his own, and you were able to pour your moans into it. Happily returned by George, in the mutual feelings.

It was all feeling so good, and was just a nice change in pace of the regular bedroom shenanigans. You couldn’t stop your smile, as he slipped into a whimper. He was finding his own sweet spot, and happily poured his sensitive sounds into your soul. What you would give to have it last forever.

Such a shame it couldn’t. It felt to soon, yet not fast enough, in the blissful haze of sex. His hips were starting to pick up speed, and you were holding them tighter. Sharing in the muffled pleas of more, that poured into each other’s open mouths. Just silent begs of it to never end.

The way he whimpered was always something that could get you off alone. Now was no exception, as you were able to taste it on your tongue. You would soon wrap your arms around his waist, as his movements became sporadic. He wasn’t able to hang on anymore, and neither could you.

His body shook, as he clung to you tightly. Whimpering your name into your throat, as you came inside of him. His eyes fluttered, as he slammed down on your lap. Letting his own climax splatter across your stomach and chest. Trapped in a foggy blur of pleasure, in the old storage room.

You would gently rub at his back, as you both road out the after glow. With his head over your shoulder, and giving gentle kisses to his neck and shoulder. “Think we can do this again sometime?” You had to ask, getting a laugh in return.

“How can I refuse-?” George would whisper for you, before he slowly started to move his hips again. You couldn’t keep your eyes open at the over stimulation. Able to bounce back, literally, so fast for you. This is what you getting for dating a Weasley.

Any regrets? Never.

#harry potter #harry potter magic awakened #hpma #magic awakened #George Weasley #George Weasley smut #smut #x reader #x reader smut #George Weasley x reader #george Weasley x amab reader #George Weasley x disabled reader #x amab reader #x disabled reader #baby’s first smut #hope you like #yes I finished this at three amish #yes it’s two am i had muscle spasms and nightmares leave me alone #it be like that #disabled reader #disabled writer #harry potter x reader #hp #hp fanfic #hp fandom #george weasley my beloved #Harry Potter smut #smut writing #smut warning #disabled representation

[passmethatcokezero]

Every body needs a therapy. (18+ // Jeonghan!vampire au)

Yup, even vampires do.

pairing: jeonghan!vampire x fem!reader, joshua cameo

words: 4186 words

tags: superhuman au, superficial, y/n is a healer-slash-sex worker, threesome (!!next chapter!!), unprotected sex (this is fiction for a reason! let’s always stay safe!!))

warning: tw // vague mentions of abuse, toxic household/parental relationships

disclaimer: these type of vampire you may have not seen from anywhere. I added some characteristics/abilities to it that does not reflect the stereotype

+ + +

The streets are still lit up by fluorescent lamps when the clock points to five. Your early morning arrival in school had long been regular. The front gate guard, although always surprised, is somewhat already used to seeing your face and greeting you back with a lively one. It was one of few things that give you motivation to get up tomorrow, and you never thought you won’t be hearing that today.

“Oops I’m sorry!” You were absurdly apologetic as if accused of a crime you didn't even do, you furiously bowed numerous times, checking if the coffee on hand stained the suited up man in white that just got out of a convenience store.

Oh, it’s him. The beautiful guy; Joshua's new tenant in his loft. You met him just yesterday, visiting your friend to seek refuge from the world when all of a sudden, a seemingly son of Aphrodite was revealed behind the grandiose wooden doors. He was unbelievably handsome and your encounter with him suddenly felt like a dream. Did he really stare at you, at your bruised lips? And his scent that trailed on the path he walked on, a smell so alluring, so nostalgic as to an extent you cannot fathom. Something like roses maybe? Or was it jasmine? A mix? And that pair of mesmerizing eyes that felt like a black hole any star would get lost to. You concluded he might have been one of the most gorgeous (and great-smelling) men you have laid eyes (and nose) upon.

“Yeah… just me.” Your eyes widened in shock. Did I say that out loud? “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

He was careful, checking if an amount of the scalding hot coffee in his hand spilled on you. None, your marigold shirt, perfectly masking your mood, was stain-free, so was your skin showing through the rip in your jeans. He felt relieved somehow, even more when he saw your once bruised lips patched on. You seemed fine to him, if not for his otherworldly senses.

“Early for school?”

It must have been obvious that you’re on your way to school, and perhaps, Joshua must have told him somehow. Or did your casual outfit and backpack give it away?

You hummed at him, a bit shy of your contrasting appearance. His seemingly newly waxed oxford shoes were intimidating, as if it would cost you your life once a particle of dust from your proximity lands on it. “Uhm… yeah… I’m gonna get going…”

“I heard about your mom,” you were too stunned to even look at him with bulging eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to be nosey, but I was worried about that bruise."

It stung just as it slipped from his lips. And all the painful images just flashed right in front of you from yesterday's unfortunate events that led you to knocking at Joshua's already open doors.

"Don't get mad at your friend, I insisted." He didn't. His inhumane intuition told him.

"You want some company?" He asks, letting out a small smile. Just before you refuse his kind offer, a gush of warm air envelops you - a warmth you craved from the once you called home. A tear almost fell, and that's when you realized it came from him, gently petting your head. “You can't walk alone in that state so...I insist,’

He lets out a small smile and invited you inside the store. Not that you’re being rude nor you don't prefer caffeine, but tugging the sleeve of his suit from behind was the only thing that came to your mind. The act made him pause, as well as the clerk that gave you a look of indifference. "I'm sorry but-"

"You're not going to school, aren’t you?”

The air froze, much like you did. How does he know every single thing? Do my eyes give me away? You thought.

“I don’t know…” you mumbled. “I don’t know.” you spoke a bit louder with all the uncertainties and fear manifested in your voice.

“Don’t worry, I can accompany you for a while. But first, let me get you this drink you'd love, as what you're friend told me.” and there goes his warm smile once again, never fading as your coffee comes ready.

"Why are you doing this?" It was straightforward, but being raised from a draining toxicity, you have learned better than beating around the bush and speak your mind.

"I am not sure either. I just know you might need someone to talk to...?"

"Well I don't." You faked a smile, as a motive forms in your mind. "But if you're just hitting on me, well, call yourself lucky."

The walk grew quiet as you kept him hanging; the other not knowing where your feet would take him. Although Jeonghan has pure intentions, he was not able to manipulate you even if he tried. Seeing you in such a state from yesterday, a tinge of wariness and worry painted him human.

True enough, he did live as a human before surrendering his entirety into his bloodlust reality. A human with otherworldly senses and “illnesses” - as how he was diagnosed. Even though he cannot go out like normal person would, he had experiences with humans that softened his cold heart. He learned about music and singing from the buskers at night, he learned about pleasure with the goers at clubs, he learned about the human psyche from an elderly friend who frequents his lover’s tombstone.

He hated the fact that he was already used to living as the second best, never the heir to the throne in highest and hidden behind the darkest of fences, but his soul just cannot let past how to feel being human again, because for him, it was what taught him happiness - a feeling he never knew existed.

“Oh,” he looks at the sign board in front of him as your feet halts and laughs slightly. “No, I am not that kind of man you think I am.”

“That’s what everyone says, and yet the first ones to barge on me like some hungry wolves,”

You have brought him back to the motel you stayed for the night. It was a place that you can call home at nights you got kicked out the house literally. There stood your dear friend in concierge sighing in response to your small smile as bells ring to announce a guest's arrival.

“Joshua told you anything about this too?”

“The therapy thing? Not so much.”

You regretted you asked, not knowing if you wanted to kick your friend in the shin for sharing such information or just melt in the ground due to a private matter boldly coming out of a stranger's mouth.

“Not gonna force you to anything. Just... if you're interested in some kind of therapy I am always free if it’s you. You passed Joshua's strict screening so you're a VIP to me. You just have to let me know in advance.” you winked at him.

It is probably your special gift: your sexuality healing others. And you figured that out when your ex came back once just to lash out how his then lover whom he loved greater, betrayed him and left him for another. It wasn’t to bring back the relationship, but he said he felt you’ve always healed him every time you two had sex before: may it be from stress, or fatigue, even physical and internal pains which he had once tested and proven when he recovered from his migraine after a quickie. It was the first time you heard about it, and later on confirmed when even his broken heart that manifested chest pains were healed. If you think about it, the intercourse was supposedly emotionally damaging, an ex coming back to fuck? But rather you felt grateful for the discovery of your gift, and the feelings that were completely gone for your past lover.

Jeonghan was astounded. Sex for therapy? Humans are really weird, he thought. He was about to let it pass, until he feels rather hot, like needles prickling his skin. Right, the sun is rising, few rays seeping through the glass windows by the rear overlooking part of the building.

He needs the shade.

“Sounds great, how ‘bout you run me through it?”

The room he booked was the most expensive, triple the price of regular rooms. It was a secret listing, and the only item that can guarantee therapy for anyone. You let him settle first, as you excuse yourself to change to your uniform. It was a two-piece black lingerie with your soul almost bulging out. It did nothing to hide anything, it was like a decoration to your body. Visuals are part of your therapy of course; stimulation of the senses being the first part of the overall session that can last almost a day if the client would request. Which Jeonghan did.

After dolling yourself up, you stood in front of the room feeling rather unusual today. Why are you getting nervous!? You breathed through your mouth to regain focus and repeated it’s just another session, it’s just another session.

Revealing your presence with three knocks, you entered the room without waiting for his acknowledgement. The room was nicely prepped, thanks to the quick housekeeping. It was lit dimly by the lamps, blackout curtains not letting any sunshine in. Faint zen music sets the mood, and you see Jeonghan looking at you from the chair across the mattress where he is supposed to be, legs crossed with a very unpredictable expression.

“So… how do we start?” he whispered, curiosity was evident but he’s good at presenting himself as confident.

“You start…” heels tapped the wooden floors as you slowly walked to him, sititng on his lap. “...by telling me your worries.”

“That I don’t have,” he smirks, collecting fringes away from your face. “I just wanted to know how you do therapy in the form of sex.”

“Well, then this wont work as therapy, but just sex.”

He thought for a while, as you made yourself comfortable in his lap, caressing his chest and shoulders. “Ah, I think I have one.”

“Tell me,” you cooed softly brushing your lips against his ears. “I’m listening.”

He began talking about his power-greedy brother, only he tells it as if they are average humans with sibling rivalry over a business ownership. He said he struggles from low self-esteem and envy, as his brother has always been the better one. And he thinks proving himself as the better successor of the so referred to as company will be the last chance, and yet the most powerful one that can prove his worth as his father’s child - a validation he crave’s for.

Rich people problems, you assume, all the while loosening his buttons as he spoke. Not once his voice hitched throughout your touching, and now it was your turn to have low self-esteem. Even more upon seeing his flawless skin.

His body glistens to bare and is smooth as heck. He looked paler than earlier and you might have assumed he isn't feeling well until he suddenly groped your body strongly so close to his.

"Your lips... they look... inviting. Can I..."

He mutters incompletely when he didn't look so turned on just now. You hummed a small consent, assuming what he wanted to say. On cue, his soft, almost lullaby kiss in contrast to how he has you on hold gave you the tingles.

"Really sweet…" He whispers as he runs his tongue between his lips and continued, "Totally my favorite."

You didn't mind his sudden tone change but not his eyes sparkling crimson red. It was too late to back off, nervous for not knowing who or what could you be dealing with, when his mouth caught yours so dramatically fast as if you were the last meal in an apocalypse.

His kiss was too deep, literally breath-taking for every second that you kept on moaning into his mouth to catch your breath. It was so bad that it felt so good, supposedly unpleasant as your wound probably have opened back up, but no stinging whatsoever. Only pleasure, his soft, innocent lips that looked like belonging to an angel is now rummaging yours. It was a kiss you have never shared with anyone, or even thought of getting from anyone. It was so wild, there was nothing in your mind but him sucking oxygen from your lungs, fucking, pounding you so hard in the mattress. It felt like your brain rode a rollercoaster, so dizzy and yet so full of adrenaline.

"Oh god…" you were panting against his lips. "What was that?"

He did not answer, but his eyes were still fixated on your now cherry lips. He was craving for it, but he doesn't know how to make his sudden addiction to your lips seem so normal.

Because for him, it's also insane how kissing you makes him feel like the greatest, most powerful being of his kind. His insecurity blurs as if there wasn't any in the first place.

"I…" He was thinking twice; would you find it weird if he suck those plump lips, or in human words kiss you once again, and longer, deeper this time? "Uhm… was it… good?"

"Honestly?" You tried to divert his sight from to meet your eyes but to no avail. "It was so good I don't want to stop."

Hearing that he wasted no time claiming your mouth once again, this time going deeper, and wetter than earlier. His hands were groping your body as if your warmth might leave him anytime soon, and yours around his neck with the same desire of having him only yours.

Your therapy has never been this full of desire. Although, most just wanted the lust, but this time around, the emotion was even beyond that. You even thought there was something evil going on, that it is impossible to have this level of greed and lust, mixed with pride at the same time over a person you just met. All the lewd things you wanted him to do to you and for you, all the dirty kisses you want him to mark you with, all his rich, creamy, filthy cum all over you - you desire it all.

Oh, how he wish he can read your mind, and you his.

Your moans to his ears was the most beautiful song, and your hot cavern was a refuge to his pent up frustration. He poured all them to kissing you with passion, or maybe even stronger than that. He then proceeds to unconsciously tearing your two piece lingerie apart at once, a moment you gasped so hard due to it being dumbfounding, and well, hot.

"Sorry," He softly giggled. "I can buy you a new one…"

"Sure you can, so I can have something to wear only for you." You winked at him, to which you never thought would gain a moan from him.

"I can't believe I am being seduced right now to buy lingerie. Do I look like a sugar daddy to you?"

"Hmm... good idea," you started kissing his neck as you grind your wet pussy against his pants, which reminded him to take what remained on him off so he can feel you at most. You felt your body being lifted as he stood from the chair, softly mounting your body on the bed. From a slight distance you watched him look at you intently without blinking, clothes being discarded in a second. His eyes once again sparks crimson, to which he scoffed and looked down as if not letting you see it, but too late.

His body glistens as he topples over you, his dick hanging, grazing against your core. The contact itself made him shiver, or so you thought, arching his back on gritted teeth.

What you didn't know, it was your lips that got bloodied from the makeout and he was trying so hard not to fall for the luscious smell. He just wanted to enjoy sex without his hidden identity going in the way.

He leans in closer so painfully slowly, thoughts of tasting more of your fresh blood may ruin the night. As his forehead touches yours, his thumb sweeps your lips, and forces it inside your mouth, which you instinctively suck, tasting your own blood.

"I think I kissed you too hard… should I do that to your other lips?"

The words were wild enough to produce more wetness down there. And before even expecting it, his hot mouth was already conquering your south lips and his tongue definitely knows how to play. You didn't realise you let out the sexiest moan tonight due to the contact. Your back arched to the pleasure, and your chest chased your breaths. It was lubricated enough, with his hot saliva mixing with your arousal. You haven't been eaten this good: his mouth not leaving any spot, his tongue lapping your folds, and the tip teasing your hole. You didn't think it was possible, but it's happening right on your very mattress.

"Fuck, ahh… you're so good." You can't stop moaning, and so does he as he sucks your sweet juice. Vibrations from his mouth added to the sensation as he eats you out with all his might. You were even worried you might break his head nestled between your thighs, feeling the curling of your core.

"Shit…" His tongue was now doing wonders fucking your hole. He entered without a warning, and the the friction of his naughty little tongue rubbing against your hole made you go nuts, forgetting you were almost on your release. You didn't know if it was just you being high on adrenaline and libido, but his tiny little muscle seem to fill you up so perfectly, even contracting and growing from its supposed size and reach  making you pause for a second, mouth wide agape. 

"J-Jeonghan…ah!"

Stars filled your tightly closed eyes as his tongue explored your insides, growing to your wall's extent. It was as if he took the size of you completely, which you didn't mind, focusing only on the pleasure.

It was so good, better then majority of, if not all, dicks that fucked you. Especially when he started thrusting in and out abusing your tight hole. Your eyes were rolling almost to the back end, and you almost questioned reality. It felt like a dream to be fucked and filled in so perfectly, and all your sweet spots entertained. The mattress soon felt like cloud on your misty body, mind dizzy and only moaning was something you consciously do as you surrender to nirvana.

"Baby you're so sweet," Jeonghan cooes by your ears, when he stopped fucking you with his tongue you didn't notice. You were then tasting yourself from his mouth, the heated session soon turned even fiery when his long, hard cock entered you right after he says a very sultry “Ready?”

Just like his tongue, his cock grew huge as it fills you inside. It was cold, literally so cold it caused a burning sensation in your hole as it stretched out. That's when you realized, his whole being was a complete opposite of yours even after quite some time in heat. He was like made of ice, and every touch you feel electrified.

It was your blood that faded his mask. The taste of its residue on your lips was enough for his insides to get awaken. He wanted more, of course. He wanted to suck your rich blood, drain you out and get his pride back. But what was it that stops him from tearing a slit on your neck? What was it that fights his thirst for power?

Your hands entangled as he starts thrusting in and out soon after your good pussy has taken his length. The first few seconds felt like making love to your lover, butterflies were present in your stomach as his cock dives deep into your pool. Oh how you wish he feels the same. He seemed like a nice guy to date, you thought. And hot one at that.

Soon the innocent lovemaking elevates to a rather rough one. A force you never thought a man could be capable of had your mind spiraling back to the once fantasies you only imagined. His strong force you thought might break your spine as he continues fuming oxygen from your lungs. He fucks you like it was his last, his dick that seemed to only grew bigger by time kept drillling and tearing your hole.

Moans and the slapping of your misty skin were the sole thing that makes you aware of reality. That you were not in dreamland or someplace your mind made up. 

His strength was unbelievable - he was unbelievable, and the way he made you come thrice the entire night will truly be one for the history books.

The night dawned with just him serenading you with his lovely hums, as you lie comfortably on his chest all cleaned and cared for by the gentleman himself. Come to think of it, what was supposedly a therapy for him must have been one for you and your wounded soul that craved attention.

"Thank you," He suddenly breaks the silence.

"Hmm? For what?"

"The therapy…?" He giggled. “Indeed, I felt lighter. Rejuvenated. I felt like I flushed so much insecurities away in a form of semen.”

Wow, truly a rare find of a guy. Handsome, flirty, humorous. With what else does he serve the world?

"Ah, that was nothing. Just doing my job."

"What do you mean, that was the best sex I've ever had," He was blushing when you tried to meet his eyes. "Don't tell me that was nothing compared to any of your so called therapies?"

You wanted to lie and say yes to kind of provoke him to tease, but what can that do? Ruin a non-existent reputation? Although you wanted to humble him down a bit.

"Well, let's just say… you did better than most of my clients."

"Fair enough…" He coughed out to clear his throat. "Tell me, has anyone ever came back to… you know just have a casual sex?"

"Duh, they all do, though booking it as a therapy. They just wanted sex. Everybody does. But I always told them once it starts as casual, the healing effect for them will never come back-just like how one of my patrons has experienced."

"Quite a gift you have," He catches your hand for him to caress.

"We all have it." You smiled at him. "Kinda curious about yours."

He stalled for a moment thinking deep, faked with a soft laughter. "Oh… you don't wanna know."

"I think I already do…"

His breathing stopped at your confession. Do you, really? He was clearly nervous, heart pumping with only a millisecond interval. You sat up, looking him straight into his eyes. Both of you are still bare of clothing, and only light from the lamp illuminates a small part of your skin.

Your finger painted an invisible line from his lips down to his chest, leaning in closer to his ears. The next words shook him to his core, but also made him attached himself to your loose strings.

"You're not human, are you?"

The crimson light shines on both his eyes once again, thus time fully enclosing his irises to its hue. A sight of his fangs peaks itself from between his lips, and was then followed by a smirk when you showed no scare at all.

"I hope you don't mind me being blood lust when you were moaning like that earlier," He says closing the gap between your faces to lick that dried up wound in your lips. "I promise to only suck your pussy if you wish, even if it's a little too tempting - not my fault your blood tasted just the perfect sweet for me." He then kisses you slowly as he pins you down on the mattress, and the day that you thought have just ended isn't apparently so.

You had so many questions that night, so did he. But you seemed far from disbelief rather interested with anything about him. Until morning came, both lacking sleep (or maybe only you do) but not of knowledge (and taste) of each other’s personal businesses. Each curiosity had been satisfied, but there’s still this lingering that you want to know more about him and his gift he calls a curse.

He was too, the connection he felt from the intercourse was too apparent to disregard and he is definite it wasn’t just due to the brief taste of your blood. So many stories he still wanted to hear from you, so many questions deeper than who you are or what you do, yet too less of a time as you have other functions as an individual who gets by on wages yet costly living unlike him.

But one thing he was sure of, it feels great to be human at times.

+ + +

《 1, 2 》

ㅡ Thoughts and feedbacks are always welcome as i am also trying to get better at writing or getting ideas^^ just drop by my askbox ♡

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen fic #svt fic #kpop smut #svt au #seventeen au #svt drabbles #seventeen drabbles #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #svt jeonghan smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan au #get well soon hannie!!!! #svt jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan

[rozieramati]

i think i've discovered the meaning of life

3/9/24

i have an affinity towards crows. it runs very deeply in the lore of my contract with the universe (ketu is rampant in my chart.) there's a herd of crows that: wake me up in the morning, leave feathers (from other birds) in the screen of my door, are always on the part of the roof that's above my bedroom, etc. one time i caught them organizing things they found in a straight line. it feels so strange, especially because it always happens when there's a huge change in my life. intuitively it feels like protection of some sort. i don't know. i usually divert from sharing stuff like this on the internet for fear of literally sounding insane. there's just this whole mystical side of existing that i really don't have a choice in ignoring. elephants in asia are burying their young at a specific gravesite and i'm supposed to wistfully let that go? there's rituals and lives and thoughts and emotions all around us. within a phone screen and beyond the screen view, in the walls of your room. there's emotions in the air when dust particles strike your nose to make you sneeze and get the fuck up. there's emotions in the first person you talk to, if you decide to get out of bed that day. there's emotions in the atmosphere of your neighbor's house, who may or may not notice you slamming the gate on your way to the coffee shop every morning. there's emotions in the barista who asks if you want the green tea or the latte, as they anxiously hover their hand over the ipad that holds your answer in its system. the emotions, the atmosphere, the divine, it slaps me in the face everyday whether i like it or not. that's why i make music, it feels like one of the most widely accepted forms of divinity in our current world. creation in itself is magic. every fabric of our being is working within a framework particularly built for us to toy with, to alchemize and create from. i hope they ban tik tok. it's not a place for creativity anymore. it's ruining everything it means to be human. what is everything it means to be human? creation.

humans create simply by existing. the seat you sit in on the bus creates the instant that someone sees you taking up that space and decides to sit next to you, across from you, or to stand instead. humans create when they breathe and one germ coalesces with another. then it runs through the body of someone strong, but not strong enough to be woken up without a sore throat. then that sore throat takes itself to a doctor. then it goes to the pharmacy and runs into a person they don't know yet, but will not be able to live without within the next couple of months. sore throats, bus seats, doctors, and pharmaceutical soul mates, all of which were created by us. the sore throat was created by some doctor or linguist, i'd presume. why does love always come when we're inconveniently stricken with illness? why are subway chairs that slippery muddy orange color? why why why. it's because we created it, it's because we are human and even more so, we are animal, we are mud, we are lily petal, oxygen, and feather in the screen door, a hand with lines on its palm braided between the fates and free will. the crows have something to say and create, just as much as we do. that is the meaning of life. from the creation in which we are born, we must continually give back by creating ourselves and others.

sometimes i forget where the beauty lies. i'll re-read this to remember.

#diary entry

[neuroprincess]

Simili - Prologue

Professor!Agatha Harkness/Student!Female Reader

Fanfic Chapter List

Summary: A series of murders start to scare the small town of Westview when young university students turn up dead on campus, soon Y/N seems to be connected to the victims somehow. Determined to find the author of these atrocities, she can trust no one, not her family, friends, and even less the local police, except the only person really willing to help her, the professor Agatha.

Warnings: Blood, emotional pain, a bit dark compared to what I usual write

Word count: +1900

"My childish and watery eyes struggle to not shed any more tears, they have told me to shut up, depriving me of the first instinct, of pain, of being able to feel and manifest it as a normal child. At this point sounds like a privilege, which this, despite all the privileges life has afforded me, I don't have. Facing the reflection of the bathroom mirror I sigh, face flushed and sore, all I can do is wipe away the tears with the back of the hand. Pull myself together, that's what we do..." 

The beams of light are sneaky, walking slowly through the gaps in the heavy doors as the sun rises and perches majestically in the sky. Beating against the young faces that cross the campus, walking fast to escape the heat or late for the next class. Everyone seems to be in a hurry, stressed as they stand with energy drinks or disposable coffee cups, sometimes aspirin. The light also hits inside the buildings, reflecting in the large windows and reaching the cold floors of the halls, mimicking the shapes of the windows, small dust floating in the glow. That's what Y/N focuses on, eyes focused on the tiny particles, struggling to get away from the foolish conversation of her friends, better, classmates who are almost friends, all sitting at the end of the east side hallway. Not that they were boring or uninteresting, just the opposite, each one has peculiarities, talents and intelligence that made them well-known personalities at Westview University. All have something to stand out in a group so distinguished. PhD in astrophysics, two club presidents, one of the top student program interns and then her. There is nothing she stands out in academically, her grades are good, above average and she is enrolled in extra classes, but still no trophies on the dormitory shelves, no certificates signed by the dean and even less honorable mentions at events. It's as if the gold stars have adopted her as part of them.That smallest little star behind all the others.  

"A coin for your thoughts." Wanda whispers, leaning in close to her. 

"Oh..." in a jolt she breaks out of the trance, turning to find the four of them staring at her in confusion "I'm not thinking about anything important, just a exam this week. We have only two weeks and the new professor is already going to administer one."  

"Let's pretend that you don't already know all the questions, I'm sure you'll get a new maximum. Again." Monica shrugged and went back to talking about something with Jimmy, both law students and members of the same club. 

"She's being a little salty because they lost the debate last weekend." was the first time Darcy spoke up after minutes of conversation, just so distracted as she was in her thick books "Maybe it's the new class you're worried about? Mythology, right? Cosmogony or origin?"  

"Cosmogony, it complements the other classes. And it's easier." 

The brunette laughs and nods negatively, turning to the book without giving further explanation, only to be stared at until she feels uncomfortable enough to say something more 

"The professor is a executioner. I've thought about signing up for extra credit, good thing I attended a class before that, the content is great, but she's strict and even the brightest are having some trouble keeping up. They say that someone has already fainted in class from being so nervous," she relates the last part in a whisper, not doubting the veracity of the event after witnessing an entire class "You're getting into a jam."  

"We're getting in a jam!" Wanda lets out a yelp and straightens her posture, staring at Y/N in disbelief "You! You talked me into this class, I'm screwed, I don't know how to handle pressure well..." her eyes widen and she starts rambling on about how they could get rid of these extra classes.  

"I'm sorry." is all the youth can say, receiving a sympathetic look from Lewis, for the situation and also for what she will face in the semester that had just started. 

After a few long and torturous minutes Wanda is finally calmed down and soon forgets the subject when asked about her next project, starting to talk fervently about the script, costumes and all the inspirations. Monica and Jimmy continue on their own business, trying to come to a consensus about something, Darcy pretends to pay attention to the friend, a podcast playing in her headset at full volume, while Y/N tries to really pay attention. It's the least she can do after getting her into a university jam. The mythology class was chosen precisely for ease and practicality, for being complementary she swore it would be the piece of cake. And her friend joined the idea to complement the grade. And now they both might be screwed in the hands of a executioner professor who managed to scare away even Darcy Lewis, one of the most intelligent and persistent people she has ever met, this is a very bad sign. The only bright side is that the two will face this together. 

"Have you ever watched “The Truman Show”? It's my biggest inspiration for this play, but instead of not knowing the protagonist will be super-aware about everything that happens..." she rambles on barely noticing the commotion of students running through the halls towards one of the exits of the building, the back one that leads to a garden, an area almost abandoned because it's far away from the others.  

"What the hell..." Darcy whispers getting up, trying to follow what happens with eyes, unsuccessfully as soon a small group comes together limiting the view.  

"Let's see what happens, the last time a group got together like this was when two professors had a fight in the yard." Monica says already gathering her things, she runs into the crowd as she zips up the backpack, then looks back facing her friends "Let's go before we lose the gossip. Sounds like a big one." 

Jimmy follows her, running side by side, Wanda is the next to join in, perhaps it was one of those scandals so big and/or complex that it could use and cause a commotion, either in the university or audience. The brunette helps Y/N to get up and together they walk nonchalantly, a background of curiosity leading them to the others, but they don't usually show it as much as their friends. Darcy slips the arm around Y/N's waist as they walk past the riot so they don't lose each other, soft fingers gripping the skin under the thin blouse, which causes shivers and makes her feel warm, completely awkward to the touch. Some guys from the football team push everyone around trying to squeeze in to see, at the same time a group of freshmen run in the opposite direction, indecipherable expressions on their faces, something close to fear or disgust, maybe a mixture of both. A girl crashes into one of the players and falls at the feet of the two university girls, she tries to get up, but before being able to, the body betrays her and soon the entire contents of the breakfast are on the floor. Y/N's eyes widen and she takes a step backwards in pure shock, behind the new girl other students fall. 

Everything happens so fast to assimilate even though the images form in slow motion in her attentive eyes, a space opens up between the crowd like the sea opened up and all she finds is red. Red... in the green of the freshly cut grass... in the gray of the perfectly carved marble of the fountain in the center of the garden. The poet, that woman created by human hands and who gives life to the majestic decoration, holds a book in one hand while the other holds a jug where the water flows, filling and entering every space with the limpid liquidity, which beats against the structure and can be heard even amidst the confusion. Murmurs that slowly become desperate cries when witnessing such a scene, the clear flowing water is equally red to the fat drops that drip from the head of the man resting on the poet's lap, similar to a painting in which two lovers share an artistically intimate moment. If it weren't for the blood and the visible wound anyone could tell that he, with closed eyes and neutral expression, even though wearing an expensive suit, is deeply asleep. The sun beats against the aged face and she is sure that she knows him, her gaze narrows in the direction of the scene, steps guide her closer without even realizing it and she ignores Darcy's calls to come back, as well as the curious friends and the other students on the way. Next thing she knows she is just a few feet from the fountain, the red water almost reaching over the rounded edges and falling to her shoes. It doesn't matter, not now.  

The chancellor of the university... is dead. 

Jareth Redd is dead. 

She resists the urge to touch him or pinch herself just to verify that it's nothing but a dream, imagining that she might have fallen asleep between Wanda's speech about costumes, head lying on Darcy's shoulder, passed out deeply into another dream she would never in life dare tell anyone about. Her hands tremble in nervousness and eyes turn opaque as she realizes that above the tall man's lifeless body is something rectangular, thin and patterned. A traditional tarot card, the king sitting on a throne, a raised sword in hand. Justice.   

Y/N knows what no one else knows and for a millisecond she has to control herself not to show any emotions, compressing lips in an attempt, avoiding a small smile to form. 

At the same moment a loud, shrill and primal noise is heard, someone screaming at the top of thei lungs expressing the most genuine pain and shock. When turn around she finds a middle-aged woman kneeling on the grass, wearing dark clothes in shades of purple and black, her dark hair a mess and blue eyes filled with tears that soon run down the pale face behind thick glasses. She has never seen her before, but she is sure that was someone close to him, because among dozens of people she is the only one to show any kind of reaction other than fear or disgust at the sight of horror. And when the woman's throat dries up there is no more voice for screams, her pain becomes muted, visually excruciating. Without a second thought the girl takes a tissue from her purse and approaches, extending the cloth in hand to the woman.  

"Ma'am..." she whispers trying to get her attention, who lifts her tearful gaze staring deep into the soul. 

And before she can realize Y/N is in the arms of the unknown woman, in a tight embrace, nails digging in her back, face hidden against neck, hot tears wetting skin and the collar of the t-shirt, loud sobs, low cries and many whispers denying to herself what she has just seen. Although she can't sympathize with the pain, the student hugs her back. Her fingers enter the dark brown hair and they hold each other even tighter, soon she is crying together. For a completely different reason. At least there would be someone to cry and mourn Jareth Redd's death, more than that bastard really deserved.  

"He's gone..." 

taglist: @tryingmybest233333 @wastdstime @scarr0713 @dvrkhcld @heidss @xvyzxx @minszhuo @quailbagutte @imaginesmultifandoms @ctrlamira @milffilm @taurus-baby-34 @Starbucks-06 @Willow_Nox @grandtacoranchnickel @multifandomlesbianic @louderfortheback

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#agatha harkness x reader #fanfiction #agatha harkness #wandavision #simili

[ninlilwinds]

Wardrobe Crisis

Plot: You have a bit of a clothing problem.

Characters: (In order) Ayato, Diluc, Childe (Tartaglia, Ajax)

Warning: Not proofread. If there are any major mistakes let me know. Also, depiction of violence in Childe??? But it's all jokingly.

P.S As you can tell...I used the rich characters, because if this were real life (which it's not...T-T) I'd feel just a bit less guilty if they bought me something. This is also purely self-indulgent...and um I tried not to make it obvious who my favorite is...but i think i failed.

Ayato  

"No no no no no!" You paced around the room in a frantic frenzy, throwing clothes and shoes all over the place.  

Ayato sat in your shared bed, looking at you with an amused glint shinning in his eyes. He let you pace around for a few more minutes before asking, "Is everything alright, princess?"  

Did he really just ask that? You held back your sigh and turned to hi, crossing your arms, "Do I look 'alright'?" 

He had to chuckle, you being worked up was cute, "Well what's wrong?" 

"I had this whole outfit ready for the event tonight, but now I can't find it anywhere." You explained, "And that's the only thing I really had to wear." 

Ayato hummed and then said, "Ah yes, that outfit. I have not seen it but I'm sure you have something else."  

You shook your head, "All the other ones are worn out, and you yourself said this was a very important event with really important people." 

"I see. Well, how about we go and find you something, hm?"  

You sighed, taking a deep breath, "I'm broke." You grabbed your wallet and flipped it over, letting a few dust particles to fall out. 

Ayato laughed and shook his head, "I'll get it for you."  

"You've already given me too much I can't keep leeching off you!" You sighed, again. 

He stood from the bed and walked over next to you, grabbing you by the waist and holding you close against you, "You're not leeching off me. I love you. And this is one of the ways I can show you that."  

You had no time, so you had to accept. 

"Thank you, again." You said in your brand new outfit.  

He tucked some of your hair behind your ear (or smoothed it down if you have shorter hair) and pecked your lips with a quick kiss, "No thank you for allowing me to lay my eyes on such a beautiful sight."  

Diluc  

You sat in your shared bed staring at some of your older clothes which you would usually wear on a daily basis. 

Diluc had been off at work all day and you'd been cleaning out your closet (the dust and such), using all kids of cleaning products, when you stained your clothes.  

After trying for many hours to get the discoloration to stop, you had only made it worse, and your clothes had seen their last day of light. Ad you could only ask yourself one thing: What would you wear now?? 

Those were your favorites and the ones you felt the most comfortable in. Any other pieces of clothing, you simply left to collect dust at the ends of your closet. But not these. These were the ones you felt like you could rule the world in. And now they were ruined.  

You don't know how long you had been sitting on the bed staring at the clothes and trying to think of what to do now and how to explain to Diluc that you maybe had also ruined one of is coats..... heh 

But you heard the door open and in came a very tired winery owner. He looked at the clothes that were spread out on the clothes then raised an eyebrow and looked at you, "Is everything alright, my love?" 

You sighed and decided to not hide it, "No. I was cleaning the closet because it was really dusty and dirty and I was too lazy to empty it out and well....." You sighed again and motioned to the clothes.  

Diluc wasn't upset at all. He was actually relieved that was the only problem. He sat next to you, his weight making the bed dip in his direction and asking you lean against him, "Materials things can be replaced."  

You held back your tears, "But I also ruined one of your coats." You said, waiting for his scolding.  

"And that can also be replaced. I have plenty others. Why don't we go shopping tomorrow. I won't have to work at the tavern so after I'm done with my morning duties, I can accompany you." He reached over with his hand and smoothed down your hair.  

You nodded and turned to hug him, "Okay, but I'll be buying them. I ruined it after all."  

"How about you buy me the new coat and I'll buy you your new clothes. You may pick it as well." He stood up to pick up the clothes on the floor and you quickly joined him, "Okay ...so it can be white then right? I wanna see you in white."  

Diluc pursed his lips, "Let's stick to black."  

"But you said I could pick." You smirked.  

That argument didn't end any time soon.  

Childe 

"Oh, (Y/n)!!" Childe waved to you from across street, bag in the air, "Guess what I got!"  

You looked around and tried to find an exit. You didn't know this crazy man...you didn’t...nope... 

He ran across and handed you the bag, inside there was a dress you had commented was cute the other day.  

"Ajax....!!"" You whisper shouted, "We agreed you wouldn't buy me unnecessary things anymore! My closet is exploding and so is my house. My cousin thinks I have a hoarding problem."  

He smirked, "There is a simply solution to this."  

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, "Oh really?"  

"Move in with me. I have plenty of space." He said with a wink.  

You sighed, "It's not that simple. And anyways you're barely home anyways."  

"Ouch. Slap me instead won't you." He placed a hand over his heart.  

"I should." You glared, "Stop wasting money on me." 

He crossed his arms to form an X and then glared at you, "Stop!!" He grabbed your hands and brought them up, placing a gently kiss on each and then looking at you, "You've never been and never will be a waste." He leaned forward placing a kiss on your forehead and then grabbing the bag to carry himself, "Now let's go find matching shoes." 

"You completely missed the point!!" You said blushing. His flirting was not going to distract you from what you were trying to prove. 

"There was a point?" He asked, already walking.  

You groaned and followed him. When would he learn to listen, "This is the last one for at least the next few months and I get to treat you to lunch today."  

Childe thought back to his schedule and once how was sure he had the rest of the day off he agreed, "Alright lunch it is." 

You smiled and hugged his arm as you walked, "Really?"  

"Yes, I have the rest of the day off. But you have to wear this dress. And the shoes we get." He said with a sly smile. Well, he already bought it so might as well. At this rate you'd have a different outfit for every day of the year...you really did have to do something about all those clothes.  

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin childe #genshin #genshin diluc #genshin characters #genshin impact childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin ajax #childe x y/n #childe tartagalia #childe fluff #tartaglia #diluc #childe x reader #childe x you #childe #tartagalia x reader #tartalgia #tartagalia genshin impact #tartagila #tartagalia x you #ajax fluff #ajax x reader #childe genshin impact #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr

[harryleatherfit]

Upper East Side || A.U || Frankie Morales

Chapter 11: Opening Night

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Word Count: 7.8K (i was gonna keep going but Warnings: mentions of fucking bad family, unprotected p in v (um), oral f receiving, mentions of sub space (when you squint at the end), spanking, hard fucking, tit sucking, some fluff, performance on stage, lmk if i’ve missed any

Authors Notes: let me know what you guys think! genuinely this is the longest thing i’ve written but i fear i’ll be hated for the next few chapters 😵‍💫 i love you guys ♾️

Chapter Playlist

Jungle Fever- The Chakachas

Somebody Like You- Bree Runway

Lust For Life- Lana Del Ray

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

Opening night, electricity filled your body. You woke up with light peeking through your window, you stared at the dust particles floating around, you wish you could stay here forever. Both nights were sold out, your heart racing thinking you had to be on stage tonight. Performing in front of thousands excited you on second thought. You loved the crowd, the air, the excitement as you smiled. You had gotten leads at UNCSA, but nothing could compare to this. You didn’t know where you lay in the acting world at all, but you had to remember that no matter what you would be yourself on the inside.

You had gotten up before Laylah, Rose, and Hannah, making coffee and staring at the sun. You were hoping Frankie was up looking at the same sun. You did breath exercises, prepping your lungs for the amount of talking you had to do for the next few days. Setting your headspace was most important to you. You were scrolling on your phone and Frankies name popped up in the corner of the screen.

New Message:

Frankie: Can you come early to the theater? Somethin I wanna show you.

You: My call times at 3, want me to come at 12?

Frankie: 11.

You: Okayyy, need me to bring food?

Frankie: No, assistants already brought a shit load, I need to see you.

You: Packing my bags as we speak🥱

“Hey hotstuff,” Laylah walks out of your room, yawning, “Smells good. Ready for your big day?”

“Ready as I can ever be.” You shrug, embracing the heat of your coffee cup. The mornings were always so cold.

“Anything planned for the morning?”

“Well, he asked me to come in early, something to show me.” You whisper.

“Oh shit, damn ok,” They get excited, “Have fun gettin old man dick.”

“Laylah!” You laugh.

“Nah, I bet it’s good. Look at him.”

“Believe me I know.”

“Have you guys fucked yet?” They nudge.

“No, but I'm not even sad. So many times guys just want to immediately fuck and it’s such a massive turn off.” You explain, “He’s soft and gentle with me, never in a rush.”

“Yeah me and Bryce haven't done the deed yet. Have high hopes for him. And he also uses my correct pronouns so yay men!” They cheer.

“Well here’s to fucking men I guess.” You click your coffee in the air, “Is he treating you right?”

“We haven’t done much aside from hangout during rehearsals and stuff, so after we’ll actually have time to be with each other.”

“You should go with him after the show tonight, get dinner and walk around the city.” You suggest.

“I think that’s what I’ll do.” They hug you, “My beautiful astonishing Lady Macbeth, I’ll see you tonight.”

-----

You arrive at the theater, New York Streets bustling with people at this hour. Broadway never fails to have thousands of people in and out. Tonight was going to be a big one. Book of Mormon was on, but that show was always on broadway and Macbeth was only on for two nights.

You wondered how many stars were going to come, how many people you loved that would come to see your show. How many playbills you were going to get to sign.

Your interaction with Wes Anderson made you think about your spine, your eyebrow conjecture, the way you present yourself and your character on stage. Everything had to be different. Mattias had a pep talk with you before you left the theater, no matter what happens on this stage, we both know we have put our souls into this show.

It was true, there’s no need to stress about impressing people.

You set your bad down at the entrance, seats already blocked off, ushers clocking in their hours.

“Hey, up here.” Frankie calls up from the theater's booth, “It’s set up a little differently here, Broadway has way more money than our school could ever imagine,” You walk up the steps, “I know so much bigger than our little shabby room at the school.” You take in the scenery of the room.

“I bet you’ve worked here a lot though, right? I mean this is like your job, to do shows for the college, teach the building basics of theater, and fucking work Broadway shows.” How could he act like this wasn’t a big deal.

“Honey, my job is cool and all but doesn't mean I enjoy it. Long hours, having to meet people's demands, spicy celebrities, whiney actors.” He purrs.

“Hey! I’m not whiney, you’re the whiney one, arguing with everyone who pisses you off.”

You hug him, he’s sitting on a stool in front of the lighting board, “I wanted to be an actor actually, but never went through. I never had the courage to do bigger roles and my dad was always focused on my brother. So I just went into tech, it’s easier anyways.” He mumbles.

“Sometimes I wish I went into tech, being an actor is fucking hard,” You stare at him, “Why’d you quit acting? You could never be second to anyone.” You rub his face, hands lingering on his porno stash, his scruff felt like lightening under your fingers.

“When we were in our twenties, he’s a little bit older than I am, he was breaking through the stock market and everyone was shocked. I mean he broke through after 9/11 so he was everywhere.

My dad was disappointed that I wanted to do theater and acting and not anything business related. I was doing mini side jobs for Broadway and small film roles. I went to Spain for some time. Until I started doing this I was finally important to my family.” You back off from him, circling the room.

He hasn’t talked to you about his family too much, he said he’s an open book but you didn’t want to push him too much.

“Sad boring people want to go into the stock market. Margot Robbie was the only interesting thing about Wolf of Wall Street by the way,” You chide, “You're not a fucking disappointment, you’re motivated. You create worlds for people to see, you have so much passion. I wish I was you.”

He moves from his chair, standing up, he’s way taller than you

“Smart girl, go turn off the lights.”

“Frankie,” You stare at him, “We can’t, you know we can’t.” Even though you fucking want to.

“We’re not,” He laughs, “Just go turn them off, I want you to see this.”

You do as told, flipping the switch and returning to your sanctuary.

“Lay down and look up, cmon I’ll do it with you.” He instructs.

You find your way in the dark, glimmer from the ceiling illuminating the room. You lay down as you feel his body next to yours.

“See the ceiling? It’s stars, they painted stars in here for the actors to relax before shows. I’ve done shows here before and they always help me even before a long tech run.” He whispers, the ceiling reminds you of a galaxy, calming and beautiful. He moves to your neck, smelling your hair. You could bathe in his after shave, bask his cologne. He always smelled so expensive.

“Don’t get too comfortable pretty girl, someone could walk in.”

“Then don’t smell so fucking good.” You shove him away, laughing to your side. The pain in your lower abdomen could never subside when you were around him.

“I have something to give to you now, but would you wanna come over to my place later? We could get food, or walk around, or if you want to go back to your place after the show home then we can go there, orwecanjustleave-”

“Shhh,” You shove your finger to his lips, “I would love to go to your place tonight, please. We can finally be alone. Finally be with each other without anyone interrupting us.”

“Ok, ok.” He shakes his head like a giddy boy, “ Oh baby you’re gonna do amazing tonight.,” He kisses you quickly “Before I set up, I wanted to give you these.” He fumbles into his jeans pocket, pulling out two VIP Caroline Polachek tickets.

“No fucking way, you did not do this. Frankie, you did not spend this money.” You squeal.

“Stop, I didn’t spend any money gorgeous. I pulled some strings and magically got them.”

He hands them to you, they were metallic with black printing of the venue and time, with her name in this beautiful ceryllic, you couldn't imagine being in her presence. You’ve wanted to see her since the beginning of college, but you never had the money to go. Since her breakup from Chairlift, you fell in love with her artistry. She was meticulous about what she exposed to the world and you wanted to be like her.

“A little something for an opening night present, and the concert’s before your recital. A win-win.”He looks at you, “I know her new album came out and I know her producer, maybe you’ll get to meet her.” He winks. Get to meet your fucking idol? You were shocked but it was Frankie, of course he would do something like this.

“Don’t worry about tonight darlin,” He holds you, “This weekend is gonna be amazing.”

------

Is this the real life, is this just fantasy caught in a landslide. No escape from reality.

Bohemian Rhapsody was blaring throughout the dressing rooms, never able to run away from Freddie Mercury.

After your soiree with Frankie, you had gone to freshen up, prep your hair and skin. Ate a protein bar and met with Mattias. You blindly went over your scenes, and then he offered some cigarettes You shouldn’t have, but you did.

You fled out the back, door checking to see if anyone would see you. Not that it would matter but felt too familiar. You found a cozy spot, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket the team gave you and lit one up with him. You felt like you were a teenager in high school again, smoking before a show to ease the nerves.

Passing on local tradition.

“You’ve got any family coming tonight?” He opens his zippo lighter.

“Nah, just my friends, I don’t have family up here. You?”

“Mom and dad, they weren’t too happy I came to this school but it’s starting to grow on them” He taps his cigarette, “Anyone special coming tonight?”

“Something like that. It’s recently new with him and I, but he’ll be here.” You blow smoke,“You?”

“I just broke up with my boyfriend so probably not. We’ll see.”

“Ahh Mattias, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just means I’ll be clubbing fucking extra tomorrow night at the afterparty, are you excited?”

“Fuck I forgot about that, I haven’t clubbed in years.”

“It’s at this hoity toity place in the Upper East Side, not The Box I promise but it’ll be fun as fuck. The directors are supposed to come, like the whole school is going to show up.”

The fucking Box. Frankie being there.

Flashbacks of Frankie fingerfucking you agasint the bathroom counter race through your mind, you couldn’t understand how bad you wanted him. The one person in your life that has changed your entire being.

You guys finish your cigarettes, small talk with him was so easy. Giggling about the shit you’ve seen in high school and college as theater majors. Mattias knew what the struggle was like, he knew the difference between stage anxiety and general anxiety. You guys were the perfect pair on stage.

“You go head on in Ms. Macbeth, get your shit done and I’ll see you soon sweet cheeks.”

-------

“So at 3 tomorrow the whole cast has an interview with The New Yorker.” Ms. Roylance announces, it’s an hour before show.

“And the main 2 have an interview with Vogue at 5.”

Vogue, what the shit.

Tech crew, all the actors and directors were in a circle, saying a couple final words before curtains would go up.

Across from you, Laylah and Bryce are holding hands and Frankie is talking to Mr Miller.

You were trying to calm your heart rate, you felt comfortable with everyone around you, but if you sit in a dark closet and rehearse for the last hour you would.

“I want us to hold hands, close our eyes and say one word we're feeling, and the last 30 minutes before show we can just roam in the back, hows that sound?” Roylace gages the group. Everyone agrees, clasping hands, shutting eyes and embracing each other's energy. It’s the best you can do.

“I’ll start, pleased.” She finishes.

“Happy.”

“Elated.”

“Horrified.”

“Worried.”

“Terrified.”

“Thrilled.” Bryce bellows.

“Overjoyed.” Laylah says.

“Light.”

“Captivated.” You immediately knew that was Frankie, his voice, the utmost bass in his voice. Shakes you alive. You open your eyes, looking at everyone around you, soaking up your last minutes with everyone before you break apart.

“Wondrous.”

“Flamboyant.”

“Flustered.”

“Scared.”

It’s your turn, you’ve had the whole circle to think about this, “Content.” Your eyes closed, the mid stage lights shining on you, the murmurs from the full crowd behind the red curtain, the smiles on all your faces, you’re ready.

“Happy.”

“Petrified.”

“Euphoric.”

The last words slip into the air, opening your eyes exasperated.

“Places in 40.” Frankie says.

Everyone separates, straggling across the stage, getting to their righteous spots but you stay. It only feels right and you know he will stay with you.

As soon as everyone is out of sight, he gets closer to you, but not daring to touch your hand. You watch him go to the middle of the curtain, he opens it slyly only to peek through to the crowd.

“Wanna come see?” He asks.

You walk downstage to him, setting in stone to his exact steps, letting one eye peek through the red fabrics and the whole crowd is lively, everyone is dressed so elegantly. The laughs, the people finding their seats. Ushers smiling. House lights dimmed sensually. This is what Broadway is about. Your jaw drops, but you wouldn’t let this dare scare your heart, you’re fucking ready for this.

“See, they are all here for you and Mattias, they are here to see the most wonderful production of the year and because of you, you bring the feisty energy they need.” He whispers into your ear. You shudder, almost tears of happiness, you had no stage fright anymore. “Now fucking blow there minds away baby.”

-------

The raven himself is hoarse, that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan, under my battlements. Come, you spirits, that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full

Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood, stop up th’ access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature, shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between, th’ effect and it. Come to my woman’s breasts

And take my milk for gall, you murd’ring ministers, wherever in your sightless substances, you wait on nature’s mischief. Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, that my keen knife see not the wound it makes, nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark

To cry “Hold, hold!”

Make me fucking human.

For more or less, there was no crowd in front of you. Just Mattias holding your hand. Rebirth. Refinery. Frankie watching you from the booth, admiring every step you take. Acting is simple, people pleasing is simple, it’s melodic from making up the emotions on the spot and zoning through the waves of the artistry. It’s for the people, acting is a service. You’re giving your heart out to the world.

You follow your footwork with Mattias, Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, husband and wife. Forcing your husband to follow through with your plan, killing the king. So detrimental.

You rush to the wings, dipping your newest costume with blood. Lady Macbeth is a woman of thrill and duty, she would do anything for her husband, and you know how that feels. You soak yourself with the sticky substance, getting it all over your face, fingerprints of deadly sins.

Hands so poignant with red, your heart could be falling out and no one would notice. Cue.

My hands are of your color, but I shame, to wear a heart so white, I hear a knocking

At the south entry, retire we to our chamber, a little water clears us of this deed, how easy is it, then! Your constancy, hath left you unattended, hark, more knocking, get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, and show us to be watchers, be not lost so poorly in your thoughts.

You move the rest of the act, sit down through act 4, nothing involving you and finally act 5.

You mess around your hair, flick blood on your lips and action.

Out, damned spot, out, I say! One. Two. Why then, ‘tis time to do’t. Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?

Instantaneously you have flashbacks when you were a child. In your cold room alone, dad and mom are fighting. This always fucking happened. The yelling would make you cry, but you learned how to get over it, you accepted that was your life. But now you’re safe, now you’re with people who love you and want the best for you. Men could never have control over you, ever again.

Do you mark that?

The Thane of Fife had a wife. Where is she now? What, will these hands ne’er be clean? No more o’that, my lord, no more o’that. You mar all with this starting.

Go to, go to. You have known what you should not.

She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that. Heaven knows what she has know.

The moment you’ve been waiting for,

Here’s the smell of blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand-

You don’t hold back, you dig into the crevices of your voice box, finding every follicle in your body to scream. To scare this crowd. You aren’t a little girl. Lady Macbeth is a story to never be let down. You drop to the floor, shrieking your mind away, begging for air and life. Letting the blood on you trickle with slobber and tears.

The exhaustion mixed with the heat of your scream made your head spin, but the crowd was silent- you lay there hiccuping for a minute, letting the waves of grief pass by.

What a sigh there! The heart is sorely charged.

I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whale body.

Well, well, well.

Pray God it be, sir.

The disease is beyond my practice. Yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.

You shiver, shaking over to the edge of the stage,

To bed, to bed. There’s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come. Give me your hand. What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.

You exit, and the audience erupts in roars. They quickly sit back down, as there’s more dialogue with the doctor and gentlewoman, but not one moment did you hesitate to throw yourself into your monologue. It felt so powerful, unbelievably life changing.

The show finishes, sitting in the wing as your castmates finish the last monologue. Opening night was one for the books. You all line up for bows, tech right behind you, the curtain opens up and finally the moment you’ve wanted. Not the applause, but able to see Frankie in that chair, just staring at you. All you’ve wanted today is to be with him, but your performance was truly dedicated to him, he was the one that shocked your headspace, he’s the one that makes you want this all. You each take your singular bow, your feet wobbling, walking to the end, tearing up with this crowd, the graciousness you felt.

The standing ovation of the crowd was magnificent, every section clapping for minutes, no soul daring to leave their seats. New York, what a beautiful city. The strong whistles, the numerous claps, the chatter warmed your heart. Roses being sent your direction, hearts shown with hands.

Your crew was instructed to go back to your dressing rooms, clean up, hang your costumes and prepare everything the same for tomorrow, then you could go greet people if you wanted to.

Before you knew it, Mattias was dragging you out to the street, to see all the fans lining up on the street waiting to get their playbills signed.

You only wanted to find Frankie and Laylah, but you didn’t have one second to revive for yourself.

Mattias thrashes with your hand, opening the back door to the cold howling air, embraced by cheers,

“We love you guys.”

“I cried at your performance.”

“We’re coming tomorrow night”

“Lady Macbeth saved me.”

“I love you.”

Screams and shrieks were surrounding you, it’s not that you couldn’t believe it, but your heart was overpowered and overjoyed. So much in one sitting, your head turning in every which way, grabbing sharpies and scribbling your name as fast as possible.

One lady stands out, she’s quiet but vigilant, waiting for it to be her turn, and the closer you get you notice,

“Ms. Kim?” You could barely recognize her, it’s only been 4 months.

“My honey sugar, look at you!” She hugs you, tighter than a mothers hold, “Your teacher Mr.Miller gave me a shout and I booked my flight immediately, I couldn’t miss your Broadway performance.” She shakes her head.

“Ms. Kim, you didn’t have to do this, I could’ve sent you a picture, or a notecard, or a playbill.”

“Now that’s nonsense honey and you know that,” She swats your shoulder with her playbill copy, “Besides I know the whole team here, no need to worry I’m here for a week, so a coffee catch up is on your list after this weekend.”

The things that you could tell her.

“I miss you, I miss North Carolina.” You hug her again, breathing down her back, trying to not let people see your tears. She was there for you when you missed your mom, she was North Carolina in a summary, and you missed it so much.

“It’s okay sweetie, you were meant to leave that state it had nothing to offer, look at this,” She pointed at all the people, “This was your destiny.” She kisses you on the cheek, “I’ll text you for a coffee date, but go spend the night away.” She smiles.

“I love you!”

“I love you too honey.”

You leave her in the crowd, finding Mattias taking a picture with a group of girls. You tell him you’re gonna head back in to get your bag, to check your phone and possibly run into Laylah, find Frankie. Unlatching the door, the air rushing in your face, Laylah was already there with Bryce waiting for you.

“You did amazing! These flowers are for you,” They smother you, “The shock in the audience when you dropped to the floor, you stretched all of their hearts out.”

“Thank you.” You laugh, holding their hands, best friends working on Broadway together, your 16 year old selves would be thrashing down right now.

“My guys in the booth couldn’t believe they were at a college show, you and Mattias rocked it.” Bryce says.

“Thank you, that means the world. Seeing all the full seats was just fucking mind blowing and I’ll have to say that a million times to process.”

“We love you, were gonna get dinner now,” They wink, “See you tomorrow? Same time, same place?”

“Same time, same place.” You agree.

They grab your arm, pulling you close, “Get that dick tonight.”

You laugh so loud it refracts around you, we’ll see.

They leave you, content with the night. Smiling dumb because now finally you get to be with the man you’ve been itching to see.

You call him,

“Hey pretty girl, I was waiting to hear from you.”

“Sorry I was out signing playbills with Mattias. Working the night off.” You respond.

“Don’t be sorry, s’busy night for you. How d’you feel?”

“Good, Frankie, I feel amazing.” Seducing him over the phone, itching for him.

“That’s my star girl, shining so bright on that stage.” He smiles in the phone, you can feel it.

“Where are you right now?” You ask.

“In my car, just watching the sky.”

“And where would that be?”

“Behind the theater and the crowd, come find me princess.”

“Ok Playboy, I’ll see you in a second.”

You end the call, chucking your bag behind your back. You slowly walk to the door, finally entering a world you can’t step back out of. Reminiscing when you had no idea what the fuck you two were.

You sprawl out, no one would be here at this time of night. He’s smoking a cigarette, convertible top down. Collar open and his hat is off, puffed locks chasing every direction. He looks up to you.

“Frankie, an Ashton Martin Convertible?”

“Yeah.”

You stare at him, some fucking longer. “I don’t know, just an Ashton Martin roaming the streets, a really nice car I’ve only heard in books.”

“Would you feel better if you knew I saved a couple paychecks for this.” He raises his eyebrows.

“Sure.” So he had money, money. Double shit.

You get in and he stares at you, flickering between your lips and eyes. You could jump him now, but you had to wait. You liked the game.

“Food, bar, coffee, books, my house? What’s your wish tonight?” He holds your hand.

“Hmmm your house remember? Wouldn’t pass that up for a lifetime.” You remark.

He nods, setting the car in gear. You flicker your hands to his cigarette, he lets you take it and the drag of his menthol cigs felt smooth on your throat. Menthol and Frankie just make sense.

He’s playing Pink Floyd, blasting it through the dark streets of the city, and all you can do is smile stupidly. Your hair flying everywhere, hands perpetually finding the power of the wind, eyes closed.

You feel his hand sneak to your thigh, creeping to your body. Speaking to you through your mind. If his hand could do that now, what else would happen tonight? He moves further and further up your leg, eyes shooting open at him.

“What?” He turns to you, stopped at a light.

You grind your teeth, his hand was big enough to almost cover your whole thigh.

“You say something?” He smirks.

You wince as his hand lays on your skin, never moving but lingering so close where you crave his fingers.

A guitar ripple catches your attention from the speakers, he’s strumming to the beat on your thigh, and you can’t move.

“And we’re here darlin, what do you think?”

He parks in front of a modern brownstone, pillars glossing the entrance like a greek house. Bigger brownstone than usual. Everything about him makes sense, the expensive taste made sense, but this house was beautiful.

You take a breath, “It’s beautiful, Frankie. I couldn’t imagine anything different.” You’re scared to get out, but you itch to find what’s inside. He closes the top to the car, running around to open your door.

“Cmon pretty girl, don’t be shy.” He holds your hand out, he walks behind you up the stairs, punching in a code you looked away for.

“3570, didn’t need to look away baby, that codes yours.” He whispers to you, walking into his house.

Your first steps are met with roses, sprawled on the outskirts of the floor. His first floor, open for the world to see. Piles of roses, rose petals begging for your touch, he grabs your hips pulling you to him. “This is all for you.” You stand there with him, holding you. No man has ever gone this far to express something for you.

Grand piano deep into the room, kitchen with a marble island, champagne with two glasses full for you both, one staircase with golden spiraling leading to the top on the side. White columns and archways holding the house.

“And one person lives here?” You poke.

“Yes, but I quite enjoy it,” He lugs you closer to the kitchen to set your stuff down, “This is the house I dreamed of as a boy.”

“Well, it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like this.” You ponder around like a child lost at Disney.

The back archway was all glass, you could see a light on outside to his backyard. His dining table to the wall of glass, next to the greenery. He had a conversational pit as his couch, dark green leather with faux fur overthrows. His TV was massive, and next to it were beautiful oil paintings.

He had shelves as a wall, lined with books and vinyls. Years of purchasing and collecting.

You take a peak, letting your hands run across the dusty spines.

“The Chakachas, João Gilberto…hmm Gerry Rafferty” You laugh, “Your music taste…is sexy Francisco.” He’s watching your every move.

“What can I say, I’m a cultured man.” He smugs a smile. He’s behind you, raining his fingers around your waist, you take Jungle Fever out of its sleeve, placing it on his record player.

“Just to set the mood don’t you think?” You snicker, “Have you seen Boogie Nights? You do look like a young Burt Renolds, scary kinda.”

“I get that sometimes, you like that darlin? Like broad-“ Kiss, “Hairy men?”

You dance with him to the music, listening to the women's moans of the song. Letting the dim lights glisten around his living room.

Moaning in his ear, grinding against him. Melting into his body.

“I love it.” You purr, “He was so sexy, don’t you think? That playboy pose he did made everyone in the seventies go crazy. I’d let him fuck me on spot if I was alive back then-”

He laughs, “Hmp, you wanna get fucked?” His head turns to the side, mouth curving open, with his eyebrows falling inward.

Your mouth falls, drooling over his voice. You hold onto his hair, sheething his body into yours, “Fuck me tonight Frankie, fuck me hard.” You whisper.

A lion raptures through his physicality, lifting you up to the closest thing, the Grand Piano.

“Frankie, we can't do anything here, I’ll break it!”

“I don’t care princesa, I don’t care, I’ll eat you out for hours and it could break, I’ll pay for another one.” He growls, “I need to taste this pussy now.” He set you down, looking you in the eyes as a rabid beast. His eyes were blown black, glaring at you for more.

He pulls your shorts down leaving you in just your shirt, your bottom half bare in front of him. “Mmh, no panties,” He chuckles, “What brought you to do this miel?”

“I figured there's no point, you’d rip them off anyway.” You shrug, head slating on the lid of the piano. Goosebumps rising on your body, the cold of the instrument touching your ass, air meeting the gloss of your entrance.

“Perfect fucking pussy, perfect fucking body. My girls so fucking perfect.” He spreads kisses down to your stomach, leaning when he reaches your mound. You grimace, you haven’t shaved in a long time.

“It’s okay baby, see?” He presses his hand on top of your sex, “Hair doesn’t change a thing how I feel about you. Hair doesn’t change a thing about how I want to fuck your brains out, okay?.” He kisses on top of your bush, shivering when you feel the wet of his lips with his mustache, nose bracing your clit. “I’m the only one that gets to touch your pussy like this, understand?”

You shake your head yes, “Only you can touch me.”

“Look at me, look at me while I destory your fuckin pussy.” He pushes your legs closer to him, eye level with your pussy. You wouldn't believe you’ve gone hours without this, without his tongue. He adamantly drives into your cunt, moaning as he shoves his tongue inside you.

He moans, the usual vibrations of his mouth floating through your lower abdomen. Cells inside your pussy sensationally fucked up from his mouth.

The tip of his nose would rub against your clit, he always managed to do it, but this time he was moving his face. His nose was creating circles against your nub, tongue squeezing the life out of you.

“Frankie- ngh- baby- feels so good- keep going-” You plead. Instead of grabbing his hair, you wrapped your hands around the edges of the piano, keeping your body from contorting due to the immense pleasure.

Your request followed through, he kept circling, shaking his head between your thighs. He would never let up, swallowing everything your cunt had for him.

“Pussy on my tongue, so tight. Pussy walls are quiverin for me baby.” He groans, dancing his hands to your stomach, legs dangling over his shoulders.

“Hold onto my hands dirty girl, I know you’re strong, cum in mouth.”

He raffles inside you more, squeezing his hands so your body doesn’t escape from his touch. Your clit suddenly buzzes, repeatedly shaking. Your walls come crashing on his tongue, he doesn’t stop pushing into you.

You scream for help, violently shaking against his hold. You couldn’t control your voice, begging for more. You can’t do anything other than yell because the movement form his tongue

“I’m gonna cum Frankie, I’m gonna cum on your tongue-” You cry.

“Give it to me, drip into my mouth.” His sinister base flows through your pussy, the room spins and you shriek against the piano. He sucks you clean from your orgasm, releasing his hold from you.

“Breathe baby, breathe.” The fuzziness of the lights die down, and his face comes in contact again.

“Your tongue- is fucking magical.” You drunkenly smile, “But I want more tonight. Please.” He pulls you off the piano, leaving a sweat mark on the top. You plant your feet to the ground, he holds your body up.

He chuckles, “Tell me what you want mi amour, what is it that you want?” He taunts.

“Fuck you, you know what I want.” You seethe.

“Ok,” He nods his head, “If you think I know, then fuck yourself for me. Go down to the couch, take your shirt off, and fuck yourself with your fingers.”

He had your full attention and you feel small, you’ve never done anything like this in front of a man.

“Go on princess, I’ll be right here.”

You faintly walk to his couch, slipping past the steps. You sit down at the edge of the couch, taking your shirt and shifting your bra off your chest. You’re completely naked in front of him, nipples begging for his touch.

“Play with yourself for me, pretty girl.”

You snake your hands down to your entrance, fiddling with your slick. You touch your clit, but it feels nothing like his hands.

“Frankie please, I need your cock.” You whine.

“You should’ve just said that, now look at you, yeah?” He walks to the steps, sitting down, “I need to you to cum on your fingers before I fuck you, I wanna see it.”

You hum, discoing your fingers on your clit, you imagine his cock finally slipping inside of you. What you’ve wanted since you’ve laid eyes on him.

“Push those fingers inside, think of my cock dirty girl.” He growls, looking you up and down.

You plunge your fingers inside, moving your hips against your hand. Wishing to have his thick cock inside you.

“Frankie, I’ll be so good, please. I want you inside me. I want you holding me down, I wanna be filled with you.” You mumble, terrorizing your hand.

“Wanna be a good girl for me? Fuckin tie you down, fuck you until soak me.” You shovel your fingers inside your cunt faster, imagining yourself restrained against his bed. His cock pushing into you at an unforgivable speed. “You’d like that huh dirty fuckin girl. Not able to move while I fuck your cunt, fillin you up til you feel it in your stomach.”

You slant your eyes open,” I want you to tie me up one night Frankie, be your-fucking rope bunny. Want you to use my pussy.”

“I wanna do everything with you, dirty girl, so perfect.”

You feel yourself tightening around your hand, his words making you interclose on your hand.

You would never be able to make yourself cum this fast because of your fingers, but because of him, because of his coaxing words, your own orgasm felt stronger.

“I can it hear baby, I see you leakin, cum for me, let go. Then I’ll give you my cock for as long as you want. Shove those fingers in for me.” He purrs.

You fall back on his couch, wavering your body to your orgasm. You gave a final push, laying stagnant from your orgasm. You watch him stroll to you from his steps.

He’s hungry.

“So gorgeous, so wet for me.” He smirks, “Now what do you want, so perfect and plump for me.”

“I want your fucking cock, I need you inside me Frankie.” You tremble.

He licks his lips, sitting down on the couch, “Don’t wanna do anything you’re not comfortable with pretty girl,” He moves your hair behind your ears, “Is this how you want me? Let me get a condom.”

You push him down, you should use a condom but you couldn’t be less botherd, “You could’ve fucked me in that bathroom and I would’ve cared less Frankie, fucking on this couch will be more than heaven,” And it is, “Don’t worry about a condom, I need to feel you bare.” He goes to object, but you shove your fingers to close his mouth.

Your eyes linger on his cock, he’s already swelling, “I wanna do everything with you Frankie, you could never make me uncomfortable.”

You close in to the crook of his neck, kissing him everywhere, praising him for making you feel so good, “I need you to fuck my brains out, make it hurt Frankie.”

Without blinking, he lifts you to his lap, placing your naked pussy on him. He kisses you sloppily on the lips, holding you close so you don’t fall, he growls possessing more of you.

“My beautiful girl, I’ve been waitin for this to happen, been dreamin of you sitting on my cock. I’m so glad we’ve waited, it’s gonna feel so good baby.”

You rub against him, letting your liquid leak all over him.

“I’ve been so good Frankie, I’ve been trying so hard not to think about your cock, when you were down my throat all I wanted was to be full of you everywhere.” And now-” You shimmy his shirt off, kissing his collar bones, rushing to his belt.

He flings it off slamming it to the ground, you look past it as it impacts the floor, making a hard whipping sound.

“Bet you’d like that naughty girl, fucking whip until you’re red. Tie you up with my belt.” You squirm against him, humping his bulge.

Images of Frankie whipping your ass with his belt, slapping your pussy, makes your brain short circuit.

He pulls his pants down with his boxers, flinging his cock out. You don’t remember it being this big. He was uncut and at least 8 inches. How could he fit inside you? The sight already making your pussy leak.

You rush your hands to his head, dangling your legs on his lap, pussy out for the world to see. You pull his foreskin back letting his precum bead down to your fingers.

“Feel s’good baby, fingers feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He grimaces.

You pump his dick, letting him grow against you, he keeps getting bigger and bigger. His tip was so pink, you wanted to suck him off like a lollipop. You wanted his dick down your throat. Embellishing in every way he can fill you up.

You lick his precum off your fingers, and he shoves his thumb in your mouth, “Suck.” He demands.

You enclose, treating his thumb like his cock. Swirling, letting every part of your saliva coat it.

He parts from you, soon attaching it to your pussy to moisten you up. He was going to stretch you so wide.

“Tell me if it hurts baby, please, I don’t want you to hurt.” He requests.

“I don’t care if it hurts Frankie, I need you to push me open. I need your cock.”

You shift until your lips are hovering over the head of his dick, waiting for him to pump into you. The tension was so thick you could barely breathe.

He carnally anchors into you, his cock magnetizing inside your cunt, the moment he surges into you, holding onto his shoulders stronger, you both gasp from feeling each other for the first time.

“Holy fuck, princesa you’re so tight.” He braces.

You try to move up from him but he attaches his hands to your hips and pushes you up and down. The air is eccentric and you’re so grateful you get to be so close to him, clasping on to his figure as he fucks into you.

He nips at your collar bone, lazily kissing you. Your hair disheveled from your body shaking.

“I love your cock, I love your cock. Oh my god- FuFuFuFuck.” You chant in his ear. The simplicity of having sex made you feel safe, this was more than magical. He was almost fucking your heart. He was so deep inside you, your mound was connecting to his base.

You loved when he was so dominant with you, you loved when he was in control, you loved Frankie.

“Fuck me- as hard as- you can. Use- my pussy.” You yelp.

The more you felt your pussy lips gripping onto his cock, the more you seized. The connection was beyond powerful. He aggressively slips into you, his tip touching that perfect spongy wall that would make you lose all will power.

“God darlin, love watchin those eyes roll back. Didn’t know you’d get this cock drunk baby. You love my cock so much?” He rasps.

“Spank me, please, slap my ass and fucking mark me.” You whine.

He lifts his hand, slapping your ass. He grabs onto your love handles, pulling you onto his dick harder.

“You like that? When my handprints on your ass? You want more?” He grunts.

You shake your head, and he continues, the sting firing your pussy up. His animalistic movements make you worship his soul, he matched your sex energy and you couldn’t be more thankful. You relished this moment, so grateful for Frankie.

He lusted over your tits, he slowed to kiss them, suck your nipples to hardened peaks. Somehow your heart hammered, watching him take care of every need your body craved, made you pussy twitch with his cock inside you. Watching his mouth wrap about your tits intensified your lust for him.

“I want you to do something for me,” He releases, “I want you to spell my name.”

“How-”

“Move your hips, move your hips with my cock still inside, ride me.” He stirs.

He intertwined his hands with yours, you back up from his chest preparing. He doesn’t lose your eyes for one second.

“F” You shake, his dick is everywhere inside your walls.

“R” You whine, the contact so slow and vivid, you could almost hear the colors off the walls.

“Keep going, that's it, just use that dick.” He coaxes.

“A” The tip of the A making his cock arch into you deeper than you could have ever imagined, you yell, soliciting for neighbors to hear.

“N”

“K” The ache in your pussy crying to cum, but you weren’t done. You knew you had to finish.

“I”

“E” You whimper, not able to sit straight any longer.

“Such a good girl, knew you could do it. My good fucking girl.” He kisses you, “I know what that pussy wants, I know she needs to cum. Wanna cum pretty girl?”

“Mhm, please Frankie. I-I was so good. I wanna cum on your cock. I’ll do anything, I’ll be so so good.” You plead.

His cock was intoxicating your brain, oxytocin so high you couldn’t think about where you were, only that Frankie was all you cared about in your life right now.

He aggressively hurls into you again, pinning your hands behind your back as he holds them in place. You couldn’t do anything but take his cock, you had to accept that he was gonna fuck you til you saw stars.

“You can do it baby, pussy’s already leakin all over me and the floor. She’s clamping around me. I wanna see that pretty face when you cum.” He finalized.

“Fran-Frankie keep going, I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum,” You praise.

You couldn’t even process his words, half-lidded and half dazed, all you could focus on was your pussy devouring his cock. Him driving past you until you couldn’t hear. The power to force you knew your voice was giving out. You couldn’t touch him, but him holding your hands back made you grateful, your orgasm so powerful you felt as if you were gonna break his cock.

Your voice box cracks, you immediately fall against his chest, stagnant from movement with the only action you could do was breathe.

He lays there will you, wrestling his heart from fucking you so fast. You couldn’t open your heart, let alone walk.

He picks you up, he leaves his couch area and you sense he’s taking you upstairs. He saunters into a dark room, placing you on top of his duvet cover keeping the lights off. You couldn’t tell what his room looked like, but you felt like a vegetable. He came back to you, cleaning your entrance with a baby soft towel. He has to move your legs, you were unresponsive with the widest smile on your face, eyes slanted to only see that he was getting in bed with you.

He lifts the cover, tucking you in next to him. You snuggle against his chest, embracing your body heat, spooning into him. Your breathing falters, in sync with his.

He rubs his hands through your hair, making you fall asleep faster.

“I love you, mi amor.”

And that's the last thing you remember before sleeping off the best night of your life.

—

i love lady macbeth soooo much. looking into the meaning of her monologues are so powerful and she changed my thoughts on shakespeare 🔁🔁

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taglist: @pastelnap

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[evvlevie]

Evies blue-light-glasses: why social media could fuck over your shifting success

Hi, Hello my beautiful shifters! It‘s your favorite shifting blogger Evie again and today I will advice you to leave your socials for a while.

So I had this shitty cycle I always fell into: I‘d go on tumblr or other platforms for shifting-advice and I‘d find something really good and helpful and then I‘d feel so enlightened and confident in my shifting abilities. When I would wake up the next day in the CR i‘d be demotivated, on the verge of quitting and on some days I was dwelling so hard in my negativity, I was ready to bawl my eyes out until I went onto social media again and the cycle repeated. 

Let me explain to you why if this applies to you, you should cut shifting out of your socials (which is ironic to say for a shifting blogger but hear me out!)

How did we all find out about shifting in the first place? I can almost guarantee you, it was TikTok or some other form of social platform, am I right? And one thing we get fed with the most when going into the comment section of a shifting-TikTok is demotivated, shifting-negative and desperate people. Fuck, the first TikTok regarding this topic probably was a method or a „how to finally shift“-type video. The first impression you get from this is: „This is hard, this takes a lot of people a fuck-Ton of time to achieve and it is very frustrating and agonizing to experience.“ And since first impressions matter like nothing else does, even on your fist attempt you already went into this with the mindset that it will be a hard time to succeed (most likely subconsciously). This prevents you from viewing shifting with an open mind. People who have been following my account for a while now, know that I ALWAYS preach do leave Shift-Tok. It‘s a negative shifting space. People feeding you with the illusion that it will take you years to succeed when it could literally take you only one week AND EVEN LESS. Shifters constantly spreading false information on „How to shift 100%: drink a fuck-Ton of water and clean your room so much that you can‘t even see a single dust particle floating in the air and light 15 candles so that when you fall asleep you can burn your house down in case your cat decided to be adventurous tonight.“ They love to paint shifting as this fragile thing that needs to be done perfectly and is unachievable. How is this image supposed to give you confidence in shifting? 

Don‘t get me wrong: if you feel stuck and you are looking for help and advice and whatever nothing speaks against that, but you can find yourself in a spiral pretty quickly when you make it a habit, just like I did. Shifting is something extremely spiritual and because of that, you can actually find the answers to all of your questions within yourself, and not only from the outside. The act of constantly looking for tricks and Tipps is just feeding into the mentality that you are doing something wrong, or lack something when in reality all it will ever take to manifest/shift is the sheer intent to do so. Don‘t Feed yourself with desperation and lack and agony. Feed yourself with relief and peace to attract those things back into your life. Remind yourself that it‘s easy and that your negative emotions are killing your spirit.  Don‘t worry babe, you got this!

yours in every reality,

Evie <3

#Reality shifting #shifting realities #law of assumption #law of manifestation #reality shifting #law of attraction #loa #manifestation #shifting #shifting community #current reality #desired reality #manifesting #neville goddard

[renneiscent]

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Note: Life hits me so hard so I decided to pour it into writing. I'm not sure with this though but I will just drop it and get back as soon as I can to continue haha. Please excuse my writing and messy grammar since English is not my mother tongue. I wish you could bear it and enjoy my writing.

Summary: Three years after the Duskwood tragedy... is it tragedy though or more like one of those memories which leaving the bittersweet after-taste in your life? Living the ordinary life without the hackerboy seems the best option so far, or you want the universe to pull you back and let you drown in the unknown and bizarre event like what happened in three years ago?

&lt; Main | Next Chapter >

Chapter 1: The Momentous Choice

It’s been three years after the incident which changed my life completely. It’s been three years after the bizarre event which is stained like a gum under my shoe that so hard to get rid of… or it’s just me who didn’t want—never want to get rid those memories of. It’s been three years after Duskwood. Three years, huh? Time flies so fast but the memories, the wounds, everything still stay the same. They said time will heal everything, but I think it depends with the condition too. Or am I the one who don’t allow my own self to be healed yet?

I’m not sure.

Three years has passed; everyone is still in the Duskwood, Phil got out from prison and Aurora is getting the popularity back. Only Rogers’ family moved out from Duskwood. Of course, it is understandable after everything that happened with their son. Hannah is also being better and better, Lily and Thomas keeps making sure with that. Hanson’s family seems like have so much sympathy after everything since they choose to let Hannah go just like that after the veracity of the story is revealed. And Jake…

“It’s time for you to let go, MC.” Jessy sips her cappuccino after saying those hurtful words. “I already buried my memories with Richy and I hope you do the same thing,” her tone is quite flat but her gaze is still showing grief. It doesn’t look like you move on already, Jess.

I can only serve her with the silence. The words I want to let out, it’s just clinging inside my throat and then disappear like thin air. She is not completely wrong and I hate the fact that she is absolutely right with this. It’s been three years already and my last interaction with Jake was kind of… not quite charming.

JAKE: MC. MC: Jake! Are you okay? What happened? Did you manage to hide? JAKE: MC. JAKE: Forget everything I just said just like how I will erase the conversation and everything between us. MC: Jake, what did you mean? This is not funny. JAKE: MC. JAKE: Take care.

JAKE IS NOW OFFLINE

I sigh, playing with the straw of my iced tea. I wonder what actually happened with him; after saying that he loved me, then in several hours he showed up just to end everything out of the blue. I want him to explain, but how could I? When his trace is no longer exist as if he’s never been here at all, as if he’s just an illusion I created to escape from Hannah’s case.

Thanks to Jessy and everyone, because if it’s not because of them that still remembering Jake… I really thought I already lost my mind by creating a hallucination which helping me to investigate Hannah. I really almost lost myself when he erased everything like it was nothing, till the point I was in the state that will do everything just to find him and ask him to explain everything, or even kick his ass so hard for leaving me like that.

I tried so hard to find his trace, hell… I tried really hard. I searched from everything just to look for the glimpse of him even it’s just as tiny as the dust. But not even a little particle could I find and reach with fingertips. What did I even think, I should realise to trace back a hacker isn’t that simple; especially when even the FBI is involved. I should just praying to God for making him still breathing well and no harm laying on him.

I chuckle and of course my sudden chuckle makes Jessy flinched, making her to look at me worriedly. “It’s just funny,” I said as I sip my iced tea; answering her question even though she didn’t say it out loud. “How a short encounter can make me stress for years.”

It’s been a while since I have long conversation with Jessy. She took her days off and begged to pay me visit and here she is, completely sleeping deeply next to me in my small apartment after we spent our weekend for whole day. After what happened with Richy, she’s been through a lot but then she still choose to keep staying in Duskwood and opening flower shop. It’s just a typical of the angst story I used to read when I was in high school, but if it’s the best for her… then I couldn’t complain.

While she is sleeping so deep, here I’m next to her staring at the ceiling above me. My mind is wandering to somewhere I shouldn’t pay attention with. It’s been so long, but why I couldn’t erase it all like he did? I get up from the bed and walk to my desk, getting something out from the drawer. I’m looking at the thing on my hand, the old scratches on its screen, I smile dryly. I turn on my old phone, the mute witness that looking at everything I’ve been through and that include with what happened in Duskwood. All of the conversations I had with them are inside here, except for Jake. Even the screenshots I took from our last conversation also gone like it’s another of my illusion.

I’m searching everything inside my old phone, checking if there is something I miss out; gallery, message, even the email… but nothing. The email I used to send to Jake is also disappeared and of course Hannah’s cloud which used to be attached on my phone, but that’s also no longer there. He is completely gone. I take a deep breath as I turn my old phone off and put it back to the drawer.

There is nothing good to stay in the past; I need to move on like Jessy said… like Jessy also tries to do. I need to put everything behind. After all, I have job to be taken care of. Life as a journalist is enough to keep me busy and put my mind away from everything.

But it’s hard when I’m walking down the street, smelling the delicious smell from the Chinese restaurant across the street. It’s hard when I’m watching the Ghostbuster’s DVD that I borrowed from my colleague. It’s hard when I find a man with black hair and hold myself to not stare at them for hoping one of them is you. It’s really hard.

It’s hard when the sun is setting and the moon is above our head; when you told me about the farewell, that day when you decided to leave that is also the day that you left with half of me. The day when the concrete of our soon-to-be-home became collapsed as easy as the ocean waves crushed the little girl’s fragile sandcastle.

“God, you might be sick of hearing this,” I snickered. The night breeze is brushing my cheeks, playing with my hair while the cold of night didn’t even bother me at all. “But I miss him so much. Jake, do you even miss me like I do?” I whispered as if hoping the breeze will take my words to the air, make it flying to every corner of this world and then reach him and to his heart.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte studios #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #everbyte game #duskwood family #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fandom

[pamplemousseparadox]

Established Kyalin #5: Visiting Gaoling

Ooh lovely! Thank you for the request!

The estate stood tall before them, imposing yet familiar, stern, yet welcoming. Lin got out of the car, stretching her arms over her head. "Well, we're here," she said, casting a glance out over the grounds with a critical eye.

"Wow," Kya said, slamming the car door. "What a place."

"I spent summers here as a kid. Su and I both did. They tried their best to turn us both into little debutantes." Lin smirked. "It only really took with Su."

"Your sister does love her superfluous pageantry."

"It's all I can do to keep her from throwing a gala every time I'm in town. I barely escaped with my life, last time."

"I'll have to come with you next time."

Lin raised an eyebrow. "You can, if you want. It's very Su." She took their bags from the back seat, heading up towards the front door. The lock was platinum, and had been much longer than they'd been commercially available. Her mother's metalbending had been a trial for Poppy and Lao, even after she returned from the war.

"I didn't think you'd want me to go with you."

"It's been a year, I doubt we can keep it quiet much longer. Especially now that your family knows. And Korra. Frankly, I'd be surprised if Su didn't know already."

"She would have been on the first flight to Republic City."

Lin snorted. "You greatly overestimate Su's concern for my life. It more or less ends at Zaofu's city limits." The door opened into a grand hall, and it still smelled like cedar and earth. She inhaled it, setting the bags on the floor. "In fact, Su knows I'm using this place for a few weeks, she's bound to suspect something."

"Why would she suspect something? It's half yours."

"I don't take many vacations."

"Not yet, maybe," Kya said, locking the door behind them, wrapping her arms around Lin's neck. "I have my designs on you, Lin Beifong."

"Oh yeah? And what are those?"

"Taking time off more often, for one thing. Retirement, eventually."

Lin grimaced, twisting out of her grasp. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, I'm hardly old enough to be put out to pasture."

"Alright, alright," Kya relented. "Take me on a tour, then." She looked up at the rafters, and her eyes followed the sparkling dust particles as they drifted past the stained glass window. "It's a far cry from the Air Temples, that's for sure."

"The Beifongs weren't exactly known for their air nomadic ideologies," Lin replied with a smirk. "The first room up the stairs on the right was mine in the summers. It's been refurbished now, the whole place has. Su's doing, of course."

"Of course," Kya said, rolling her eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less." She climbed the stairs, running her hands over the polished wood bannister.

At the landing, Lin bent the door open, revealing a beautifully redone room, with classy green paint and stained glass accents in the windows, sending beams of verdant light cresting across the bedspread. "I have to admit, sometimes Su has good taste, when she's not too busy being ostentatious."

Kya sat on the single bed, running her fingertips over the wrought iron headboard. "It's strange to imagine you here as a child."

"Why strange?"

"We were always intertwined as kids, all of us, but this was so separate from the rest of us."

"No different than Izumi," Lin replied. "Or when you'd go down to the Southern Water Tribe with your mother for festivals."

"I guess not."

"Anyway, it doesn't matter, does it? That was a lifetime ago. We're here now, together." Lin stepped back from the doorway, nodding across the corridor that looked out over the ground floor. "The one on the other end was Su's room."

"This place is enormous, I can barely wrap my head around it."

Lin shifted uncomfortably. "We don't have to stay, if you--"

"What? Don't be ridiculous, of course we're staying." Kya draped herself across the bed dramatically, lifting an eyebrow. "I want to see how the other half lives."

"What do you want to see?"

"The gardens."

"Alright." Lin led the way down into the spacious kitchen and out the back door, leading out into impeccably landscaped gardens, only gently overgrown. "Su left the gardens intact, mostly. They were my grandfather's favorite part of this place."

Kya sat at the edge of the fountain, bending water in and out of the stream. "Have you ever thought about living here?"

"I have. It's a lot of house for two people, though."

"Are you automatically including me in hypotheticals about your future?" Kya asked, shooting a jet of water at Lin.

"Yes," Lin replied, sidestepping the water. "You're just going to have to get over that."

"I'm over it."

A gentle breeze rustled through the willows, and Lin breathed deep. "It's good to be back here. It feels right. Being here with you feels right."

Kya shaded her eyes from the bright overhead sun, leaning back on the marble of the fountain. "Took us long enough, you know."

"Better late than never, isn't that what your mother said?"

"Something like that."

"You look like a lizard, sunning yourself like that." Lin crossed the granite paving stones, sitting next to Kya on the fountain. She lifted her chin, letting the sun drench her skin.

"Lizards don't wear clothes, Lin."

"I know what you're goading me into, and the answer is no."

Kya rested her chin on Lin's shoulder, her lips brushing against her neck. "You said no one else would be here the entire time, not even the gardeners."

"It's just us."

"Have some fun, Beifong."

Lin turned her head, kissing Kya. "You're a bad influence."

"Good. you need a bad influence."

Send me KyaLin requests from this post!

#lin beifong #kya ii #kyalin

[cryingisnecessaryfanfics]

Xiao x gn faerie reader parts 1 & 2

The faerie is gender-neutral no gendered pronouns or descriptors are used. However, some of their clothing leans toward the feminine side.

There's a lot of background lore about faeries but basically what you need to know is that faeries are very sleepy because they take others' pain onto themselves and sleep the pain away. Faeries can be playful but are generally quiet and observant. faeries have (really really big) wings like a butterfly, and sharp teeth on their top and bottom canines. Faeries are endangered.

part 1 and 2 because the first part is just plot and kinda boring. this will probably be relatively fast-paced, I can't be writing full novels rn.

****

The first time they see him they’re lounging on the rooftop of a place called ‘Wangshu inn’. Their thoughts are peaceful, the wind wild. Birds land beside them and nuzzle their heads into the sleeping faerie's side. The faerie ignores them, too tired to care about the animals surrounding them. As their eyes drop closed they dream of a life with others, friends, and family members to talk to, a village to live in. A dark cloud hangs above them, weighing their body down and slowing their thoughts to pieces. Sleep is an escape; they’ve spent their days falling in and out of consciousness. When they awaken again, the birds are gone and a person sits on the other side of the roof they had just slept on. The stranger is looking out into the horizon, watching the moonlit scenery with vacant eyes. His brows are furrowed and a black aura surrounds him, they think he looks like a beautiful tragedy, one far too grand ever to glamorize. They shift a bit closer and lean forward to look into his eyes, taking in their amber color and lack of rest. The process is slow and when they start to finally connect with his emotions they let out a gasp. Nonetheless, they start to gather this stranger's pain and the loneliness that radiates off of him. That's when his eyes flick toward their direction and he’s up and away in seconds, weapon in hand. “Who are you? How did you disguise yourself until now?” His voice is stern and there's an underlying annoyance laced in it. The faerie blinks in surprise, having never been spotted before by a person. They open their mouth to speak but find their voice comes out in a hushed tone, not having been used for so long. “My name is _. You didn't notice me because I am a faerie.” “A faerie?” He looks perplexed and the spear he had summoned bursts into a swirl of anemo particles and black dust. “Those are thought to have gone extinct in the archon war.” “Most of us did.” The faerie says, a look of mourning on their face. “A few of us went into hiding as an extra precaution and now we’re the only ones left.” They sigh as they think of the friends they lost and the little family that lives on without them. The stranger sighs and bites back a rude comment with the thought of his own lost friends. “Very well,” He says and dissipates into a cloud of black and green just like his spear

*

The next time they see him it's a hot and sunny day. The faerie is looking for a resting spot and sees the same pain-filled stranger as before. They hide quickly and watch in awe as he slays a bout of hilichurls in seconds. He adorns a mask and moves faster than any human the faerie has seen before. An Adeptus, the faerie realizes, their brows furrowing at the thought. They close their eyes and concentrate, feeling their way around until finding his emotions like a blazing spot of agony. They wince as they assess him, this time not trying to take the pain and only observing his emotions. He’s hurting, that much is obvious but beneath that is something else. “You have no respect for the adepti, faerie.” The faerie jumps, eyes snapping open and delicate wings straightening in their place. They place a hand on their heart having never been startled in this way before. “My apologies, I did not know that my actions were disrespectful.” The faerie manages to respond, but their eyes stay observant. They study the Adeptus once again, taking in the way he holds himself high but struggles to maintain it. The way he clenches his fist against his spear, the pain in his arms, in his head. “Now you know then.” He narrows his eyes assessing the faerie like an enemy, like someone he needs to figure out. “This area is dangerous, leave at once.” This makes the faerie smile, realizing just what hides under all that pain he surrounds himself with. “You are a protector,” They state, eyes glowing with interest. “How does someone who protects others fail to protect themself?” They take a step forward, eyes pointed toward the many injuries littered across his body. “My duties are more important than insignificant wounds.” His tone becomes pointed, tinged with underlying anger. “How can you carry out your duties if you are hurt? Let me heal you, it will help with the pain, both physical and mental.” “Nonsense, I will tell you once more, leave this area before you cause me more trouble.” It’s easy to see the annoyance on his face but the faerie sees the concern lying underneath, the fierce loyalty he builds his character around. “How about this, I will leave immediately if you let me heal your injuries.” The faerie smirks a playful glint in their eyes. The Adeptus’ jaw tightens and he closes his eyes shut thinking it over. “Fine.” He says, though reluctantly. The faerie’s smile widens, their hands coming up to hover in front of his body. The hydro vision they carry on their person starts to glow, water appearing from thin air. “This may tickle a bit.” They tease, water starting to circle around his arm where the worst of the wounds resides. The Adeptus rolls his eyes and stands still as the faerie works. Truth be told the water felt soothing against his skin, and the fatigue in his figure started to slowly dissipate as the water flowed around him. He bites his lip, ignoring the relief that washes over him when they finish. It's the best he’s felt in years, the agonizing karmic debt surrounding him fading to a dull ache. “I will take my leave then.” The faerie’s wings start to flutter and their feet start to lift off the ground. “Wait.” The Adeptus blurts out, and the faerie freezes in place, tilting their head in question. “If- if you are ever in danger or in need of assistance, call my name, Adeptus Xiao.” He says and even though the words come out in a rush the faerie still smiles that same gentle grin, nodding their head at the request. “Thank you, Adeptus Xiao.” They respond and Xiao only looks away in slight embarrassment. “Until next time,” They murmur and start to fly away towards a forest in the distance. The stunned Adeptus watches for a moment before shaking his head and disappearing once more.

****

I will be posting more in the future. follow for updates :3

#faerie #xiao x reader #fairy reader #reader has a hydro vision #gender nuetral reader #genshin impact #genshin xiao #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #xiao x you #xiao fluff #genshin impact xiao

[acciotherapists]

Far From Home (Chapter 35: The Truth)

Loki x Reader

Y/n Y/l/n never thought her past would come back to find her. After all who would look for her on Midgard? But one day in the small town of Puento Antiguo her world is turned upside down when an old friend turns up, threatening everything she has built and the people she’d fought so hard to protect. What happens when the life she left behind finally catches up with her? What happens when the old flame she thought had burned out reignites within her?

Warnings: language (sorry, Steve), eventual smut (slow burn), angst, some mentions of torture (most things won’t be detailed but anything that gets a bit more specific will be warned at the beginning of the chapter)

I just need time. If only it was that simple. A few minutes of time and everything would be normal again. I wish I could believe that statement to be true but we both knew it wasn’t. Loki smiled softly as he left the room, leaving me alone with the dusty file. Dust particles floated around the room as I turned the front cover. Notes were scrawled in the margins and it was hard to decipher exactly what each piece meant until I would find another page that connected the dots. It went on like this for a while as I slowly deciphered the information.

There were hundreds of pages, each detailing some new and horrific experiment that they’d done, though none of these interested me as most of them I remembered every painful detail. It wasn’t until I reached a section entitled ‘memory replacement’ that my interest was piqued. There were several entries, each dated, though many of the dates had faded over time.

May 12, 1943

We have finally located a being capable of immortal life and the ability to touch the tesseract without protective equipment. Subject is extremely volatile but is responding well to sedatives and will remain frozen for the time being. Subject was sedated upon interaction with the tesseract.

Log 1: May 9, 1952

Arnim Zola

Several years after the supposed death of our leader, Red Skull, we have decided to thaw one of our potential soldiers, Subject A, in the hopes that she can turn the tide in this war.

Log 379: June 13, 1953

We’ve had to switch locations due to a potential threat. Subject is responding well to memory replacement, though we are facing difficulties erasing certain memories.

 Log 789: October 18, 1955

Successful withdrawal of blood and platelets, though no significant difference between our sample. Subject is more agitated than normal today. Calling out for a man named Loki.

I skipped further down the log, finding a variety of entries, each detailing failed experiments and location changes, as well as visits from a ‘classified visitor.’ I scoffed at that. Classified was such a large word for a visitor they were too afraid of anyone finding out about. Red Skull, the man who refused to die yet let everyone believe he was gone.

My eyes widened as I read through the dates once again. 1944. That was several years before I thought I was taken.

I continued searching through the file, finding detailed documents regarding shock therapy and memory replacement, though it seemed the replacements hadn’t taken root. Notes were scrawled into the margin in an angry script. Failed.

I turned the page, searching for more, though this only seemed to increase my questions as names were scrawled into the margin. Loki. Abigail. Rose. Frigga. Odin. Thor. Birth Parents

A knock on the door pulled me from my search and I quickly stuffed the pages back into the file. “Come in!”

Loki’s face appeared in the doorway as he shut the door behind him. “I just wanted to check on you, darling.” His eyes searched mine and he quickly made his way to the bed, taking my face in his hand, wiping away the tears I hadn’t even realized had slipped down my cheeks.

“Darling, I think that’s enough for today.” His hand rested on the file in front of me and I quickly covered his hand.

“I’m fine, Loki,” I assured, removing his hand from the file and pulling him to sit next to me, placing the file on the nightstand near the bed. He searched my eyes, searching for any hidden lie within them. When he seemed satisfied he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb gently stroking my cheek.

“Did you find what you needed?”

“No,” I sighed, looking down. 

“There’s more questions than answers in that file but it appears they tried to erase memories of everyone I cared about. It appears they succeeded with Rose and Abigail.” I looked up at him. “Who were they to me?”

He smiled softly. “Abigail was your maid for as long as I can remember. As soon as your parents passed she was assigned to your care. Rose was her daughter. You met her briefly before…” he trailed off as I nodded in understanding.

“Who were my parents?”

He looked away from me, toward the file on the nightstand. 

“Loki!” I took his hand in mine. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Darling… I-.”

“Please,” I begged. “I need to know.”

He sighed, wiping a few stray tears from my cheeks.

“Your mother was Lofn, the goddess of forbidden love.”

I chuckled. “Seems fitting for our love affair.”

He smiled before continuing. “She was one of Frigga’s handmaidens. They were very close and mother was devastated when she died. You were just a fews younger than myself and mother couldn’t bear the thought of casting you into the street or handing you over to the servants to take care of so she took you in.”

“I’m glad she took me in,” I answered.

“As am I, my darling. As am I.”

I thought back to the dates in the file. “Loki… how long was I really gone?”

“67 years, 5 months, and two days,” he murmured.

“There’s seven years of time I can’t remember, Loki… I was frozen for most of it.”

“I thought it seemed strange when you mentioned being gone for 60 years,” he sighed. “I counted every awful day from the moment you went missing.”

“I suppose I never paid much attention to earth years before I started living here.”

“You counted the days from the moment you woke up,” he realized. “And you never had a clue that you’d been there longer?”

“No,” I answered. “Everything looked the same as when they’d put me under. They told me I’d only been out a few hours.”

“Apologies, Miss Y/l/n,” Jarvis interrupted. “Mr. Stark would like to see you downstairs.”

I sighed as Loki rolled his eyes. “Do you have to go?”

I chuckled. “I’m afraid so, especially given that Stark pays the rent.”

His brows furrowed, confused as to what I meant. “It means he pays for us to live here,” I chuckled. “It’s just a saying, Loki.”

He huffed, standing from the bed, still holding my hand in his.

“Do you want to come with me?”

“Can I?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.

I nodded. “If Stark has a problem with it he can kiss my ass.”

“I thought he… ‘paid the rent,’” Loki quoted as I chuckled.

“He requested me. I’m bringing you along. He’ll get over it.”

He smiled as we left the room together.

*******

Taglist: @purplekitten30@lokisprettygirl22@midnights-ramblings @huntress-artemiss@lokis-little-love@lokis-tigress@the-archangel-in-asgard@crimson25