#she’s 7 feet tall still in my heart and that’s all that matters

[happy-mimin]

Np I love sending you thirsts I’m honey 24/7 and you’re my fav creepy pasta writer on here💞

I wanna talk about bully eyeless jack now since I saw your Drabble you made for him

he’s sooooo mean to you and you don’t know why too every time he walks pass you he always bumps into your shoulder on purpose saying the meanest shit under his breath :( but in private jerks off to you imaging your pretty lips around his big thick cock

When you actually confronted him all he did was laugh in your face and you ended up in his room being held by him making you go up and down on his cock since he’s so big and tall after all those cute little pleads made him go even faster

even after he came inside you he still kept thrusting his cock inside of you just to make sure it would stick 💓

I love you too bebe 😩😩, feeding me very well but now imma feed into this brain rot nghhhhhhh

TW. (perverted Ej, Use of fem!reader, reader is riding, slight degradation.)

Bully!eyeless Jack is gonna make you work sis, you want him to stop bullying you? put in this vibrator.

Poor y/n using her wobbling legs to get around from class to class while Ej was grinning his ass off behind her. Everyone was looking at them and this was just the most embarrassing she could ever feel.

Finally when you make it to the end of the day, he pulls you into a abandoned classroom and pushes you against the broad door, which he then continues to say the following words which made your eyes pop.

“You took it out?” He would say with an sadistic smile, while you almost was having an heart attack. How did he know you took the vibrater out? Did he follow you to the girls bathroom? It’s not like any of that matter now, Jack already knew what type of punishment he had in store for you.

“J-Jack…m’ legs-“ Your words were soft, but your voice hoarse from the onslaught of screaming from earlier events. Your poor thighs wasn’t able to have support for your upper body for much longer, and his thick girth that was splitting you open didn’t do much justice either.

Jack groaned in annoyance, he lifted his head from off the chair to look at you and your deplorable condition right now. In all truth he couldn’t deny how sexy you looked on top of him, you’re small frame shaking from trying to keep up. “What…? Is the little girl growing some balls with me?

“No, no! Jack please..!” A sharp squeal left her throat, y/n throwing herself onto his warm chest as jack just decided to plant his feet onto the floor and start fucking her senseless. “Jack please what? You want me to go faster baby..fuck, make this pussy cream?”

He knew you couldn’t answer back, only moan mantras of his name and small curses before doing exactly what his taunting words were saying. And my god did this make him almost nut.

“Thaaaat’s right, cmon, make a mess on your bully’s dick.”

#creepypasta smut #creepypasta #mimi's bebes!!💕 #black writers #eyeless jack #Ej ⚫️ - ⚫️ #creepypasta headcanon #headcannons #jeff the killer #x black reader #slenderman #ticci toby

[mazegays]

could've followed my fears all the way down

please do enjoy this sunday offering of angst : ). i've played with this one a bit since i originally wrote it and personally i think it has a lot of great lines. let me know what you think!

Chapter 21

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 22

Harriet falls to her knees at the edge of the ditch, the shock of the impact zinging through her body and pulling something in her lungs taut. She has to force herself to close her eyes so that she can take a breath. 

He’s on his side, wood tied to his chest. 

He’s even still got his bag; if she didn’t know what she was looking for, she wouldn’t have been able to find it.

He—the body—he’s covered in mud, and dirt, and she can’t tell what’s wrong with him. She needs to get someone, needs to move, but she can’t make herself stand up,

One of his arms—oh, that looks bad. His legs look okay, just positioned oddly. He doesn’t have shoes on. How could he have lost them? What happened? Did they wear out that quickly? His feet will be a mess of cuts, for sure. And if they’re infected… what if they have to remove them? Maybe Gally will be able to build him something… 

Harriet shakes herself. She can’t afford to get distracted now. She doesn’t even know… she can’t tell, not while she’s still so far away.

She can’t tell if he’s alive, or if she’s just found his body.

How long has he been here? How close were they to finding him?

If they’d spent just one more day looking, would have they found him in time?

His eyes are open, just halfway, and Harriet unfreezes. She moves as quickly as she can down the side of the ditch without tripping herself, and taps his face lightly.

It’s red, swollen; his lips are dry and cracking. 

She doesn’t know what that means. Dehydration, but that’s a given. She’d be more surprised if he wasn’t dehydrated. She has to find a way to get her fingers under the wood on his chest to get to his neck.

She can’t tell if he’s dead or not. Her heart is racing in her ears, all the way down to  her fingertips; she can’t get a pulse. 

“Thomas, can you look at me? Can you hear me? Thomas, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay. I promise. I’ll get you back.”

Harriet’s strong, but she doesn’t think she should be able to carry Thomas.

He’s lost weight, again, that much is obvious—he’s been out here for a while without food. She doesn’t let herself think about how long it’s been. Too long, probably.

And he was right here… he was so close.

His arm is definitely broken. There’s not a lot she can do out here, but she makes a sling out of her shirt to keep it from getting worse while she carries him.

She’s not sure it even matters, but it makes her feel better, at least. If he is still alive, somehow, she’s helped. She’s helping. 

So she keeps talking to him, narrating what she’s doing like it matters. Like he can hear her.

“Thomas, I’m going to carry you, okay? We’re not far, you almost made it by yourself.” It’s easier if she pretends he can. Anya can tell her later, but for now, she’s pretending. Pretending that it’s possible for him to be alive, and here, and that she’s just saved him.

“We’ll take care of it, Thomas, I promise. It won’t hurt like this for much longer.” Carrying him is awkward, but she manages to keep his broken arm against his chest.

He’s just too tall for her to be able to support his head at this angle, but she can’t worry about that too much right now.

Anya will know what to do. 

She has to know what to do.

They can’t lose Thomas twice.

They can’t.

And if Anya tells her that she’s just found his body, at least she’s brought him back.

They won’t have to leave another friend unburied, with no idea where the body ended up. He won’t be eaten and picked apart by scavengers until only his bones are left.

Harriet can’t do much else now, not if he’s really gone, but she can run, and she can hope.

It’s that hope, faint as it is, that keeps her legs from giving out under her as she tears back out of the woods, directly to the medical cabin.

finish on ao3 or continue reading

Sonya knows something’s up when Harriet doesn’t visit the greenhouse after her morning run. It’s become part of their routine. Harriet runs in the woods, and Sonya pretends she’s working instead of just wishing that she could have another dirt fight with Thomas or something similarly unproductive.

Maybe Harriet tripped on a root or something, and had to go wrap her ankle. Or she could have decided to go on a longer run today. The change in routine itches at her a little; not as much as it would have back in the Glen, she’s more used to changes happening day-to-day now, but it still doesn’t feel right.

Sonya makes herself wait a while before she goes down to the medical cabin, to make sure that Harriet’s really not coming. 

Then she can’t get into the medical cabin, and she knows something is really wrong. Had Harriet broken a bone? Someone should have come to get her. Unless there was no one to come and get her.

She’d be allowed in, though. She would be allowed in if it was just a broken bone, as long as it wasn’t, like, poking through the skin.

Why else would Harriet and Anya be locked in the medical cabin for? The kitchens and the greenhouse are the most injury-prone spots, and she already knows that no one in the greenhouse got hurt. 

Had Harriet found— 

No. She couldn’t have. There’s no way.

Sonya doesn’t let herself think about it. It’s not possible.

Minho’s by Thomas’s tree. Gally’s in the kitchen with Frypan, and Aris, Rosa, and Frankie are working somewhere. Even Jorge is out working this morning.

From what she can see, everyone is where they’re supposed to be. She can’t see everything, not as easily as she could have in the Glen, but she can see enough.

Everyone is working—or playing, in the case of some of the kids—and no one is hurt. They’re all where they’re supposed to be.

Everyone but Harriet and Anya. Well, and herself, since she’s not in the greenhouse. 

Harriet might have gotten hurt, or found an injured animal. She didn’t find— she couldn’t have found him.

Thomas can’t have been that close all this time.

His body can’t have been that close the entire time.

Because that means they almost found him. It means that if they had just looked a little harder, they would have been able to save him.

Feeling lost, she sinks down next to Minho and lets him tell her facts about spruce trees. 

She’s heard them all from Thomas before, but she thinks she could stand to hear them a few more times.

Minho doesn’t watch as Harriet carries Thomas’s  a body into the medical cabin. He can’t.

Gally doesn’t know yet. He’d be rushing over here if he did. Shuck, not even Minho knows yet, not really. He just knows that Harriet was carrying something and rushing. It doesn’t mean she’s found a body. It could be an injured animal.

It’s probably an injured animal.

If it’s Thomas, then Minho’s not going to be the one to tell Gally. Minho hadn’t even been able to tell him the first time around, that they hadn’t found him.

When Sonya sits next to him, he tells her the facts he can remember, the ones he’s been repeating to himself for days like they’ll bring Thomas back.

Nothing will bring Thomas back, not even his body.

Maybe they’ll bury him under this tree, and then Minho can recite Thomas’s spruce facts back to him, over and over again until the roots and trunk have grown their way around him.

Sonya listens, but she’s watching the door.

“Harriet’s okay.” He tells her, realizing she didn’t see what Harriet had been carrying. “She found Thomas’s body.” He hadn’t meant to say that. He doesn’t know that Harriet found Thomas’s body. She found something, but that doesn’t mean it’s Thomas.

“No, she couldn’t have— she doesn’t go that far, he can’t have been that close for all this time. Why didn’t we find him?”

“I don’t know.” If he were less numb, Minho knows he’d be freaking out the way she is.

But he hasn’t felt much of anything since he realized they were never going to find Thomas alive.

“I just want him back.” He whispers, interrupting her. “The tree facts, they’re all from Thomas, and I don’t even remember most of them. I just— I want him back. I want him to tell us this is a stupid place for a tree, especially one that will get as big as a spruce. I want to watch his face when he’s thinking and try to figure it out. I want him to know how much I love him. He didn’t know, Sonya. I never got that chance.”

“Minho, I don’t think he’s dead.” Sonya’s still watching the door. “I don’t think she found a body.”

“What else could she have found, Sonya? He’s dead. It’s…” There are countless reasons.

It’s been too long. He would have run out of food days ago. Probably before they even started looking for him, from what Sonya and Aris have said about how much food he had.  The wind storm could have caused him any number of injuries, he might have been crushed by a tree and actually died under it, because Minho wasn’t fast enough to save him.

He wasn’t fast enough to find him in time. He should have gone ahead sooner, and maybe then he would have found Thomas before the worst could happen. If they ever find him now, it will only be his body.

Minho doesn’t know if he’d rather never see Thomas’s face ever again, or be able to bury him properly.

“I think she found Thomas.” Sonya’s still insisting, but Minho can’t let himself believe it. He can’t think he has Thomas back again, only to find out he’s wrong.

He’s the one who wasn’t there in time. Thomas had always been there to save him, to make sure he was safe.

But Minho hadn’t been… he just… 

He wasn’t good enough. Not this time. Not when it mattered.

Is this how Thomas felt all the time? That he wasn’t enough?

Minho should have told him earlier.

Should have said something one of those nights where they curled into each other to chase away nightmares, told him ‘I love you.’ and asked if he could kiss him.

He’ll never know what that’s like, now.

He and Gally have moved in together, but it’s not the same. They don’t love each other the way they love Thomas, not yet. They’ve been too distant for that.

He wants to.

He wants to have them both, but Thomas is dead, and now he won’t have either of them.

“No, Minho, why would they still be in there if Thomas is dead?” Sonya insists. He tunes her out.

Thomas is dead. He’s accepted that.

(He hasn’t.)

So why is he hoping for more now?

Making this applesauce, something Thomas would have loved— once he’d made the strawberry jam, it’d been his favorite food to eat. He hadn’t shut up about it.

So why now? Why would Frypan have him make this now?

He can barely see Thomas’s tree from this angle; he knows Minho’s sitting under it.

He hardly goes anywhere else these days.

Sometimes, Gally wants to join him.

Usually, he’s too afraid he’ll say or do something he’ll regret. Things have been weird between them.

Worse than before, even though he moved into Minho’s cabin because it’s closer and easier to manage with his leg.

They don’t have Thomas tying them together now, not in the same way he was before. Gally’s not quite sure what to do with that.

So he draws on his anger the way he always used to in the Glade, because it’s easier than having to deal with the sadness and the worry and the numbness that threatens to creep in and weave ivy walls over his heart and mind.

“Fry, what are we going to do with this? How long will it keep for?” Smashing the strawberries up has been vaguely therapeutic, and as much as he hates the thought of making something Thomas would love that he can’t eat, it’s still been… kind of fun.

“Well, it’s only one batch, so it should go pretty quickly.” Frypan seems tense. Like something’s wrong.

Gally can’t see anything wrong, but he knows Thomas was put at this station because it’s pretty hard to see everything.

What does Frypan know?

Why is he not saying anything about it?

Or maybe it’s just that he’s remembering Thomas, too. Whenever they lost someone, Frypan would do this. He’d be tense for a few days, throw himself into cooking and baking almost aggressively, and it’s nothing new.

But Gally desperately  wants for there to be another reason for Fry to be tense.

“What’s going on, Fry?” He can’t leave the applesauce, it’ll burn, but he wants to know.

“I don’t know, Gally. I just saw Harriet running back, is all. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Running back…

Running back from the woods.

Fuck.

She’s found Thomas’s body.

“I want to see him.” He says, moving faster than he thought he could.

“Gally, don’t— ” Frypan takes his spoon and tosses it to one of the other cooks. “If you’re going, you can’t go alone. Your leg is still bad.”

“Mina, you’re in charge. Please make sure nothing burns.”

“Got it, boss.” Frypan takes one of Gally’s arms around his shoulders— it’s faster than the crutches he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of yet.

He can use them fine in the cabin, but he still has a difficult time on the grass.

They go to Thomas’s tree. Sonya, who usually avoids it, is sitting pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Minho.

Gally sits on Minho’s other side, but not quite as close.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Frypan asks. “I saw Harriet run by, but I wasn’t sure.”

“That’s why you wanted me to make strawberry applesauce. You thought— ” Gally cuts himself off.

Does Frypan think Thomas is alive?

“Would they have been in there this long if he wasn’t?” Sonya counters, softly. She sounds tired. Like they’ve been doing this over and over.

They probably have.

“He’s dead, Sonya. It’s been too long.” Minho sounds tired, like he doesn’t want to hold onto any hope that Thomas is alive, that Harriet found him after all this time.

It’s only been a week and a half since they planted the tree, but it feels like a lot longer.

Most things feel like that. Gally feels like it’s been ten years and also no time at all since they escaped the Glade, since he joined the Right Arm, since they got here.

“She wouldn’t have been running like that if he were dead.” Frypan says. “She was moving pretty quickly. Why would she do that if there was no hope?”

“To keep us from seeing? Because it wasn’t him?”

“No one else has gone missing.”

“Could be an animal.” Gally hears himself say.

He wants to believe it’s Thomas, but— he can’t. He can’t do that to himself. Because if he believes it’s Thomas, lets himself have that, and then it’s not Thomas, it will shatter him.

Minho’s doing the same thing, he realizes.

To protect himself.

Sonya and Frypan were his close friends, but they didn’t know Thomas the way Gally and Minho did. 

They weren’t in love with him.

If it is Thomas, Gally’s never letting him go anywhere alone again.

Not in the near future, anyway. And by near future, he means in the next ten years. 

(He’s still clinging to the faintest thread of hope that it is Thomas, that he’s alive, that he’s safe.

That he’s here.

Somehow.

He knows the truth is probably that Harriet was moving quickly to conceal the body from them, at least until she and Anya could clean it up a little, but Gally can’t force himself to squash that little bit of hope.

It’s going to be what destroys him, in the end.)

<- 20 22 ->

#thomas #minho #gally #tmr #thominho #thomally #sonya #harriet #sonyarriet #thominally #frypan #tmr frypan #tmr fic #maze runner fic #tmr thomas #tmr minho #tmr gally #hurt thomas #thominho fic #thomally fic #thominally fic #hurt gally #whump #whump fic #could've followed my fears all the way down #nix writes #ao3 #ao3 fic #maze runner #post canon

[larvasmoon]

Portrait of the pale elf(7)-Pygmalion's Affliction

Chapter Summary : Selene uncovers the truth about the "incident" that killed her creativity and clears the misunderstanding between her and Astarion.

Word Count: 9,1k

Trigger Warnings : Suicidal thoughts. Verbal and physical violence. Mentions of past abuse.

Author's note : This a bit of a lengthier chapter but it's such an important for Selene, I hope you'll like it as much as I loved writing it.

Here's my Ao3 darling

Chapter's song : Bat for lashes - The dream of Delphi

Selene aimlessly walked in a boundless void. 

All was black. All was silent, except for the sound of her steps on the dark and flooded floor. 

Like a sea of ink under the soles of her naked feet.

She wandered long enough to not know where she came from and where she was headed. Obscurity stretched endlessly in front of her eyes, velvety and bottomless, until she worried she’d lost her sight.

Terror clawed at her insides, as she wondered how in the hell she would ever manage to survive in a world devoid of colours and light. 

Trapped in the dark forevermore, and blind to any form of art whatsoever. 

If she had been asked to describe what kind of personal hell the devil himself would have tailored for her, it would have been something identical to this. 

Her hands, fumbling in search of a wall or a door, grew clammy. 

There had to be a way in and a way out, otherwise she wouldn’t have been there in the first place, right ? 

And yet, in whatever directions she ventured, no matter how many times she blinked, she was still adrift in the black. 

She listened to the silence long enough for it to talk back to her, in hushed voices and muffled whispers, both foreign and eerily familiar. She stared hard enough at the abyss for it to look back at her, its bleak eye wide-open and fixated on the back of her head. 

Panic-struck, she started to run as fast as she could. From the corner of her eyes, she thought she saw tall shadows move and chase after her. Their crooked hands skimmed against her arms and legs, but she managed to break away each time.

Even her screams were soundless in this hell, they all stayed trapped in her chest,  squeezed in between each of the hurried beats of her heart. She only tasted the salt of her tears as her mouth uselessly moved, silently begging to be let out times and times again. 

After long minutes, her treacherous legs gave out, her knees buckled, and Selene fell face flat on the wet floor. It seemed to welcome her in its disgusting embrace, melting and adjusting beneath her, before slimy cold hands crept behind her back. 

She drowned in the thick substance. It entered her mouth and her nose in nauseating waves, as she relentlessly fought back. Trapped in those deadly arms, her hands searched under the surface for something, anything, to tear herself out of them. 

And they did. Cold smooth metal under the pads of her trembling fingers. 

The shape was familiar, easy to grab and hold onto. A doorknob, she realised, dumb-founded.

All this time, the exit had been under her feet, not at hands reach.

How ironic. 

She fiercely seized it, and pushed it open. All at once, the floor disappeared from under her and she fell into yet another pit of depthless gloominess. 

Her other senses had completely been robbed from her, but somehow gravity still existed in this place, and she felt the sheer force of its attraction dragging her body away. 

In a long disarticulated fall, at the end of which she preferred to meet her end than to fall back into this desolated place.

Selene opened her eyes and suddenly, there was fire, specks of light dispersed all around her like rivers of stars in outer space. She brushed against their warmth and their flames licked at her skin, before she was propulsed further down, under their warm glow. 

Shortly after, her back finally met the floor. The violent impact took her breath away and she blacked out for a few seconds. Strangely, it didn’t hurt like she’d expected it would. She seemingly had no broken bones or sore spots, as she leaned on her arms and legs to straighten up.

Relief washed over her when she finally took in her new surroundings. 

They weren’t stars but thousands of lit candles, magically floating in the air, near some dark vaulted ceilings. Each time they flickered, they shed light on the intricate details of the room she was lying in : sculpted wooden beams, colourful frescos of crying angels on walls panelling, libraries full of dusty grimoires, countless brushes floating in bassins of turbid water, and lots of torn canvases.

The sight of the ripped fabric and splintered wood dug an unsettling fire in her belly. It reminded her of all the time her master had destroyed her work in front of her very eyes, hammering in her head that she “still had lots of progress to make”, and that such art wasn’t “worthy of his name”.

The air was pungent with turpentine’s noxious fumes. The same ones she inhaled each time she crushed pigments and mixed them with various oils. She would spend hours on end trying to create extravagant paint colours in her apartment, up until she started to feel queasy and unsteady on her feet. 

Breaking the silence and tearing her out of her reverie, a woman started to softly hum behind her. A sad and beautiful lullaby that she thought she might have heard before, long ago. Anguish flooded her heart at the sound of it, and blurred memories that she knew weren’t her own invaded her mind each time she sang it anew. 

Strangers’ faces she swore she’d never met before. 

Vast and magnificent palaces in far away cities she’d never visited. 

Passionate kisses and embraces she didn’t remember sharing.

And a lover’s farewell. His indifferent words, actually upsetting her as if she’d been on the receiving end of such heartless treatment. 

The mysterious lady was sitting with her back to her, in front of a canvas, carefully applying light strokes of black on it. Her long dark hair was terribly knotted, so messy and unruly that it probably hadn’t been combed in weeks. The long red velvet robes she was wearing were sophisticated and luxurious, but awfully stained, sullied with old and new smears of paint. 

“Where am I ?” she weakly asked, on the verge of tears without really knowing why.

The woman’s hand halted, suspended in the air, before she slowly turned around.

Selene recoiled at the sight of her appearance. 

What a blood-curdling thing the spectacle of her was… 

In place of her visage was a hole, pitch black darkness, as if she were a cut out picture in an old and decrepit children’s book. She had no face, no eyes, no nose, no eyebrows, just a frightening window into the void that Selene had just escaped. The edges of it were eerily torn, as if someone or something had ripped this part of her away.

“This is the gristmill I dwell in, the exile I was condemned to, and a fragment of your shattered mind” she answered, the end of her dressing gown trailing on the floor behind her. 

“Is this a dream ?” 

The lady tilted her head to the side, as though she were pondering her answer. “No, not exactly.” 

“Then why am I here ?”

“Because you seek knowledge” she breathed when she bent down to throw her brushes in yet another basin of water, “you wonder why things are not the way they were, why your art is no longer as it was. Ever since that day.”

She came back to squat down near Selene’s figure, leaning on her knees, and from up close, she was even more horrendous.

“And because you wish to capture that man’s splendour, to be able to do it justice, but you are terrified to do so.” 

A fleeting image of Astarion, asking her to leave that morning, flitted across her mind. She winced in pain, unsuccessfully trying to cast the memory away, and hide it in some dusty corner of her head once again. Would he even want her to come back and finish that portrait ? He did seem to regret their whole encounter as soon as the sun had been up. 

“What is it exactly that you know about me then ?” Selene asked, suspiciously eyeing the disfigured ghost of a woman. 

She laughed, a melodic tinkling, before stretching her long fingers in front of her, and waving them in the air. The walls behind her went up in smoke, disappearing to reveal yet another vast expanse of shadows. 

But this time, it moved and swirled, as though it was clay under the deft fingers of an experienced sculptor. Selene watched in awe when an image of herself slowly emerged out of thin air.

It was her silhouette, sitting in Damian’s painting room a few weeks ago, during what had turned out to be a life-altering afternoon. She was working on a canvas, a mirror on a little side table next to her in which she kept looking at her reflection, before going back to her sketch. 

That day, she was bored to death because Damian had left her all alone in this room with nothing to do. He’d run out in a hurry when Finn had announced that his friend Lord Pilian was waiting in the vestibule. Right when they’d been meaning to discuss the paintings that she’d ought to paint the following weeks. 

When she realised that he wouldn’t come back any time soon, she’d foolishly decided to paint an autoportrait of herself. Just a quick practice to keep herself entertained. 

“I know that intent is everything to someone like you,” she explained, standing near one of the wooden pillars behind Selene.

“Someone like me ?”

“That day, when you were painting yourself. Your hair. Your eyes. Your mouth. Your nose … You were overcome by a sudden wave of self-hatred, weren’t you ?” 

She watched her double’s image closely, the trembling of her hands, the sad glint in her wide black eyes, and she somehow remembered. 

Shamefully. Sullenly. 

How she’d been dwelling on the fact her entire life felt like a big waste of time. Years and years pathetically thrown away and spent living by procuration, through someone else. 

Someone undeserving of her devotion. Someone that she’d let abuse and destroy her, because he was all she’d ever had in this cruel world. 

And how she hated herself, just as much as him, for allowing it to happen.

“For one moment”, her voice broke slightly and she sighed before continuing, “you even longed for the cold embrace of death, didn’t you ? You wished you’d never been born in the first place.”

A few tears ran down Selene’s cheeks, but her gaze remained fixed on the scene unfolding in front of her eyes.

She already knew what she was about to witness, before it even happened. 

Too busy shading the folds of the sleeves she’d drawn, she had failed to notice what was happening right under her nose. The portrait imperceptibly moved beneath her hands. A disturbing lopsided smile settled on its lips, and the inky eyes she’d etched on the canvas hauntingly raised to look at her. They stared her down, so wickedly, so intensely, and she kept on drawing without paying attention.

This was the glare of some kind of wild feral beast, ready to tear its prey to shreds. A murderous look, plastered on her own familiar features, and terrifyingly twisting them into an unrecognisable grimace.

It was undeniably Selene, but a version of herself she’d never known.

“Is this the way I look down upon myself ?”, she wondered, thinking back to what she’d just said, “As though I am my own nemesis ?”

The spooky painter sighed deeply again, before sitting on the floor next to her. “You asked for it, and so did the paint answer your call.” 

As if she’d summoned them with her words, a pair of hands suddenly surged out of the canvas to grab her doppelgänger by the neck. They brutally strangled her, their claws digging into the flesh of her nape and tearing at her skin. Dark and grim, they stained the collar of her pristine shirt, like they were made of the same material as the charcoal stick in her hand. 

She groaned and moaned in pain, suffering through the dark screen the woman had projected her memory onto. The table next to her flipped over when she struggled, the small mirror shattered into thousands of pieces, and her palette splattered paint all over the waxed wooden floor. She glided down from the stool she’d been sitting on, kneeling on the carpet, her glazed over eyes staring in disbelief at the evil reflection she’d drawn with her own feeble hands.

The creation strived to destroy its creator.

Stars danced before her eyes, the room started to spin, and she felt herself slip away. 

Her own voice echoed in Damian’s study, full of desperation, howling through the canvas, like gusts of winds through an open window. 

Die, you coward ! Die if you don’t have the courage to fight for yourself and for what you want ! 

Gathering the last bits of strength she had left, she finally reached out and violently flipped the easel over. The phantom hands vanished in a cloud of ashes and soot, evaporating in the red glow of the declining sun that filtered through the windows. 

She stayed there for a long time, curled up on herself, shaking uncontrollably, with no one to soothe her. 

A mournful sob rattled her body. She looked so small in the wide and empty room, so vulnerable when huddled like this on the floor. Selene instinctively moved to enter the illusion and embrace her own trembling body, but the woman held her back and shook her head no. 

What was done was done. 

The portrait laid beside her on the carpeted floor. It had turned into a series of ragged and violent lines, dark repeated streaks on her face and neck as if she’d ruined it herself out of despair. The bottom of it was covered in a thick and black substance that could have as well been black paint mixed in bad proportions. 

Except she knew it wasn’t.

The bruises on her neck were all blue and bloody, but it hadn’t been enough to convince anyone that the whole “my painting just tried to kill me” thing was real. 

Nobody had believed her. Not even Finn. 

The butler had merely attributed the whole endeavour to her nerves, and Damian had argued that a “psychosis is not such a rare thing amongst artists”, and that he’d read in some book that “great minds don’t exist without a touch of madness”. 

She’d spent the night there, bed-ridden and plagued with a high fever. Finn had hurdled her into a carriage at dawn, bundled into warm blankets, to see a healer. Her master had wished for her wounds to be taken care of, and for someone to check whether she still had her head on her shoulders. Of what use would she be to him if she’d lost her mind, afterall ?

The old woman, however, hadn’t seemed very concerned with her state. Prescribing a concoction of calming herbs to brew each morning and night, and lots of rest, she’d sent her home without any further advice. 

Selene didn’t need anyone’s outlook though, she was no madwoman, she knew what she’d seen.

Everytime she stared at a blank canvas, she was reminded of it. Everytime she held a brush, her heart plummeted down her chest. Everytime she tried to paint, she trembled in fear. 

Until she’d met him, at least. 

He’d appeared to her like a magnificent touch of white and ruby red on the dull tapestry of her baldurian life.

The man behind whom the world disappeared in a blur of shapes and sounds, up until he was her sole focus.

The man she longed for in ways she could not precisely define.

He’d managed to reconcile the artist and the woman in her, and for the first time in her life, the object of her desires was also the subject of her art. She yearned to have him at the tips of her fingers, both on the stretched fabric of a canvas, and in the crumpled sheets of a bed.

She yearned to strip him down, softly, gently, with each stroke of her paintbrush, and unveil the naked truth of his being.

Yet, when Astarion started to appear in the dark swirls of smoke, Selene squeezed her eyes shut. Unable to endure the sight of his beauty.

“Enough, please”, she finally begged and with a flick of her wrist, the woman dissipated the vision.

The far off wall of the gristmill appeared once again, and through the window Selene could see golden fields of wheat, gentle hills of green, and waves of blue near the horizon.

She sauntered back towards her own canvas, and grabbed a clean brush to start working on it again. 

“What am I exactly then ? Cursed ?” Selene asked, wiping the tears that had fallen down her face. 

“Of course not,” she sniffed, “you are gifted, but such a gift is a double edged sword that you must learn to yield, like I once did.” 

Selene stood up to stand next to her, and see what it was exactly that she’d been hunched over since she’d fallen into this room.  

“Your power is still raw and untamed. You must learn to control it.”

Her blood ran cold in her veins. 

A displacer beast bared its teeth and growled, full of life inside her painting. It laid on a pile of bones and skulls, regal and dangerous, like a black stain on a bleeding red background. 

When Selene stumbled back, it grew agitated in the picture. The canvas trembled on its easel, and the monster suddenly crawled out of it. 

Materialising out of oils paint and charcoal to turn into men’s worst nightmare. 

It left a trail of dark pawprints on the floor in its wake as it drew closer to her. Wide golden eyes found her own, and the feline licked its lips, at the prospect of devouring her no doubt. She smelt the warm perfume of its fur, wild and musky, and almost cried out in fright when its hot breath fanned across her face. 

The painter sat on her stool once again, and the beast thankfully backed away to follow her. “I used to paint monsters as men and men as monsters, because that’s what they’ve always been to me.”

It curled at her feet, purring like a big cat, his three long tails undulating and brushing against her arm when she reached down to pet its head.

“They stretched out of my canvases endlessly, as I willed them to life again and again. Until  everyone called me “the painter of monsters”.”

It was all too much for Selene, and she didn’t know what to say or ask anymore. She seemed to understand it and with another sophisticated motion of her finger, the beast was no more.

It didn’t go back into the canvas, however. 

Much like it had happened to her autoportrait, the artwork was ruined. Torn and covered in a red and black matter. 

“You have a tremendous amount of power in you, child” she announced, taking Selene’s hands in her own, and the air trembled and burnt between their skin, right where they were touching each other, “just be wary of what it is you want when you paint, because it might turn out to have a breath of its own.” 

A strange thing started to happen again. The more she stared at her, the more Selene thought she saw her features reappear on her face. 

Subtle lines and shadows. 

“And be careful when you paint him”, her tone grew cold and sour, “the pale elf that you love.”

“Love” sounded like an insult in her mouth, a disgusting word that she’d hurriedly spat out.

“I don’t lo-” she started to say but the lady cut her off, once again. 

“For our talents and any form of adoration do not blend well together.”

She did not have time to dwell on what she meant by that. 

A door that had never been there before appeared at the other end of the room, thrown open by whatever force was on the other side of it. Intense blinding light shone through the threshold, and Selene was suddenly uncontrollably pulled towards it. 

“I guess it is time to say goodbye, you are being called upon.”

“Wait ! I haven’t even asked you your name!” Selene said in a fit of panic, staring at the door with furrowed brows.  

The gristmill’s painter hastily gripped her arm and her skin sizzled under her fingers, as though she had branded her with them. “You need not know my name for now. We will see each other again. Fear not.”

The last thing Selene saw before being dragged away was the strange strange symbols that she had been carved on the inside of her wrist. 

Runes of sorts.

“This is just so you know that all of this was real when you cross on the other side.” 

**

She jolted awake in an unknown bed, her body shivering and slick with sweat. 

The blue ceilings and ugly chandelier of her childhood bedroom at Damian’s manor slowly came into view.

The first thing she did was raise her arm and check whether the mark on her wrist was still there. And it was. Three strangely arranged lines that formed a crooked triangle.

She couldn’t really tell if she was happy or scared that it was still here, but at least it meant that she hadn’t grown completely mad.

Finn was leaning above her, holding a wet and fresh cloth to her neck and face. He sighed and smiled in relief when she stared back at him. 

“At last, miss. I was worried sick.”

Everything hurt, and her eyes had trouble adjusting to the brightness of the day.

“How did I end up here ?” she breathed as she straightened and emerged from under the heavy covers and blankets. 

She couldn’t remember what had happened after she’d left Astarion’s home in a hurry, leaving her easel and canvas there in the precipitation. 

“Sir Fallheel found you passed out on the floor of your apartment and brought you here. To have you healed” Finn explained, throwing the cloth in a bowl of clear water to adjust the pillows behind her, “you’ve slept for a whole day.” 

“Was he furious ?” she sheepishly asked.

“Oh very much so, and worried. Especially about … “ he gestured towards her bandaged neck, and she blushed. Her hand shot up to hide it, but she winced when her fingers hit the wound beneath.

A souvenir of the night she’d drown in his arms, that she’d forever keep as a scar. 

It reminded her of the look in his eyes when she’d woken up, disoriented and weak. 

The shame and the fear in his reds, the barely concealed remorses.

His words pierced through her heart, each time she remembered them. 

“I need you to leave, darling. I have much to do.”

Lowering her head down and staring at the patterns of the woollen blanket he’d wrapped around her, she spoke with a hoarse voice, “do you blame me too ?”

The old butler sighed before gently patting her head. He smiled a knowing smile, fatherly and gentle, and it soothed her more than all of the healing potions in the world. 

“When I first met you, you were but a little girl, miss. I know how you and that big heart of yours work. I know why you do the things you do, so how could I ever blame you ?” 

Finn’s words and the decor behind him, full of dusty teddy bears and disarticulated dolls, made her feel like she was eight again. Locked in her room because she had refused to paint with Damian, prefering to play with her toys instead. 

It felt claustrophobic, wrong, and suddenly she wished to leave. Even if it meant turning her back on the only person who had ever looked after her, in the same selfless and beautiful way as her parents would have, if they’d ever wanted her in the first place. 

She swiftly got on her feet, everything spinning a little bit around her, and she quickly started to get dressed again. 

Finn followed suit, agitated and concerned once again, “What are you doing, Selene ? You still have a slight fever, you shouldn’t be up yet!” 

When she was a child, every time the old man scolded her or tried to reason with her, he’d call Selene by her name instead of “miss”. It brought back fond memories of cold winter nights during which she adamantly refused to sleep, or afternoon spent begging for more sweets in the manor’s kitchen. 

And for a moment, she almost hesitated. 

She almost let him take care of her.

“Lay back in bed, by all the gods !” he pleaded, running outside of the room with her and screaming for all the manor to hear.

“I must go, I can’t stay here any longer.” 

“I must find Astarion, and talk to him. I must tell him that things don’t have to be like this ever again, if he doesn’t want it to be. I’ll paint him from afar, I’ll keep my end of the bargain, nothing more” she kept telling herself, again and again, and her body moved faster each time the thought crossed her mind.

A door upstairs opened violently, and she knew to the sound of his boots stomping down the corridor, that Damian was coming. She already had her mantle in hand and she was quickly sprinting down the stairs, with Finn trailing on her heel like a mother hen.

With a bit of luck she’d manage to get out of this cursed place without having to talk to him at all

She’d deal with his fury later, she’d pay the price of her “disobedience” on another day. 

“Stay right where you are, Selene !” Damian commanded but she continued to run towards the main door. 

Right when she was about to open it, her master’s hand appeared beside her and violently slammed it shut again.

He cornered her there, sneering and baring his teeth as he talked. “Did you not hear me properly or did the fever turn your brain into marmalade ?”

“I heard you just fine, I just don’t answer when you bark orders at me anymore. I’m no dog” she spat back at him, and she regretted not having a canvas at hand.

She’d have given him her taste of her “gift”, she would have breathed life into a displacer beast for his own entertainment. 

“Ah ! And is that why you went to that depraved vampire’s den and let him debase you ? To taunt me ?” he bit back, “He won’t even care about you anymore, now that he’s had you exactly where he wanted.”

I need you to leave, darling. I have much to do.

He reached for her bandages and painfully ripped them away. New blood trickled down her neck and onto the dirty shirt that she hadn’t changed since that night at Astarion’s.

Daman shook his head in exasperation, his golden eyes fixed on the exposed bite mark.

“You even let him drink almost all of your blood, you foolish child. He might as well have killed you !” 

“I’m no child and what happened between him and I is of no concern to you. So get off me !”, she pushed him with all her strength but he did not stumble back like she expected he would. 

Instead, he gripped her by the shoulders, and resorted to intimidation again. Unfortunately for him, those tricks had stopped working on Selene a while ago.

“You are mine” he growled, his pretty features horridly twisted by his anger, “you owe me everything, ever since that day I found you on the porch of the orphanage your parents have abandoned you on.” 

She laughed, wheezing in his grasp, and something in his hesitant look told her that he knew. 

That he’d already lost this game, that she had the upper hand. 

“Don’t you owe me too ?” she scoffed, almost feeling her own wrath burning in her veins,” All those paintings I gave to you, all that time I spent working in your place ?” 

His fingers tightened around her but she paid it no mind. She stood taller, held her chin up, and showed him that she was no longer the easily manipulated little girl she’d always been.

She was Selene, plain and simple. A grown woman that didn’t need his “support” anymore.

“You are nothing without me, no one will want to hire you. You have no name for yourself, no prospects-” he tried again, voice faltering but nostrils flaring.

It was exactly what she’d been wanting him to say. 

“And what are you without me, Damian ?” she cut him off, savouring the way his eyes grew wider and the corner of his mouth dropped slightly, “How long has it been since you’ve produced anything of worth ?”

The slap came in a flash, so quickly she had no time preparing herself for it. 

A hard blow that had her head slamming against the door behind her.

“Sir, please calm down” Finn intervened, standing between them with his arms open, looking like  a human shield.

It was the first time her master had ever raised a hand on her, in the seventeen years she’d known him. He’d insulted her, he’d played with her like a cat with a mouse, he’d coerced and punished her. 

But he’d never done anything like this. 

Damian knew what being beaten felt like. When he’d taken her in, his father Leandre Fallheel, was still alive and she regularly heard him hit Damian late at night, screaming at him that he was “the shame of the family”. She remembered seeing her master with swollen lips and black eyes a few times during those dark days.

He was pallid, ashen, when she looked up at him again. He kept staring at his trembling hand, as though he’d also realised that he’d crossed a line.

“If you want me to keep painting for you, to help you collect the money you need to pay back your debts, give me back my freedom” she whispered as she put her mantle on and opened the door once again, “That is all I’ve ever asked of you.” 

And with that she was gone into the streets, with a swollen cheek and a bleeding neck, but a few happy tears in her eyes. 

**

When she arrived at the door of her apartment, a letter was waiting for her on the other side. It’d been pushed under it in her absence. 

The writing on it had her hurriedly picking it up, with shaky hands and a pounding heart. 

“For Selene.” 

It was the same delicate and voluptuous one she’d seen in his measurements book back then.

She pressed her nose against the cold paper and even through the envelope she could smell his perfume.

Bergamot and rosemary. 

Her fingers eagerly tore it open, as she sat on one of the stools in her small kitchen.

“ Hello darling, 

I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. I have countless things I need to atone for, but first I’d like to apologise for the way I inelegantly put an end to the delicious moment we’ve shared the other night. It might have given the false impression that I hadn’t enjoyed it, but I did. Immensely so. 

On another note, the masquerade ball is in two days and I have finished your dress right on time. Would you mind coming to Carmine Red to try it on ? I could see if any adjustments need to be made before then. 

PS: I’d also love to see you wearing it before anyone else does. 

Yours, 

Astarion Ancunín” 

Selene wistfully looked out the window and understood that she would have to wait for a few hours before the sun went down. 

Before she could go and see him again.

In the meantime, she freshened up and changed her clothes to look somewhat decent. She hoped she didn’t look how she felt, because the last twenty hours had not been kind to her. Physically and mentally. 

When she stared at her reflection in the small mirror of her bathroom, the only thing she could see was the portrait she’d painted that day. She had never lingered in front of it since that incident, because the thing that had tried to kill her had worn her face. 

Her own ordinary and tired features were now associated with such a scary moment, that she couldn’t bear to look at them for long.

Thankfully, Damian’s slap hadn’t left any visible mark on her cheek. One less thing to worry about. 

When she finally went out to head towards the higher city, her heart felt heavy in her chest. She was scared to see him, more than she thought she would’ve been. 

Spending most of the walk overthinking the words he’d used in his letter, she found herself standing in front of Carmine much faster than expected. 

The candles in the vitrine and inside the shop were on. He was there, a few steps away, sewing in the back of the room, or welcoming a client. 

A slew of butterflies grazed the inside of her belly with their wings. There were many more of them since the last time she’d stood in front of his shop, thousands of blue morphos shimmering in the glooms of her anatomy. 

Quietly landing on her withered bones and on her tired heart, to make them glow with the pretty azure of their wings. 

Selene took a deep breath before opening the door and entering. Nothing had changed in there, but everything felt different. 

At the other side of the room, behind the burgundy curtains where she knew his workshop table was, she heard someone talk. 

“She’ll be here in two days, Astarion ! You love her more than you loved anyone else, I know it. Don’t be ridiculous, face her and talk things out” pleaded a man in there, and his words felt like another slap in Selene’s face. 

Inside her ribcage, the butterflies’ wings fluttered before they died. Falling at the bottom of her chest, to limply rest on the growing pile of her crushed hopes and dreams. 

Astarion loved someone else. Of course, he did. 

She should have known that someone as magnificent as him would already have someone waiting for him, out there, in the city or far beyond its gates. 

“Will you shut up !” Astarion yelled, and she’d never heard such animosity in his voice before, “I never asked for your advice on the matter. I don’t care about this anymore.” 

As if he’d heard her hushed steps on the carpets of his shop, she saw his shadow abruptly stand up and he strode towards the main room.

She took a few steps back, and almost ran out the door, before he ever appeared to greet her. 

“You have no right to be jealous or hurt” she thought to herself, “you did this to yourself, by making it out to be bigger than it actually was”. 

Astarion emerged from behind the drapes, with wide scared eyes and a heaving chest. He stared at her like this for a few seconds, his eyes quickly skimming across her figure and face.

How ridiculous she must have looked to him, in her dirty cloak and plain white shirt. 

She laughed uncomfortably, forcing a smile on her face, “I can come back tomorrow, the time is not exactly well chosen.”

She turned her heel, putting her hood on and resting her hand on the doorknob.

Ready to step out in the dark and find some place to bury herself. Maybe under some of the pretty oak trees in the higher city, the ones from which you could still see the sea. 

But in an instant, he was there, right behind her, his hand on her hers. 

Holding her back. 

“No no no, stay”, he begged in her ear, talking through the thick fabric of her coat, “please”.

His arm curled around her waist and he softly guided her to sit on the meridian. 

“My friend was just about to leave” he smiled down at her, before casting a dark look at the man that was now awkwardly standing near one of the dummies on which Astarion had started to pin the shape of a blue dress, “right Gale ?”

“Ah yes, it is running late and I’m an early bird. I really should get going !” he giggled before grabbing his own long coat. 

He walked towards her with an extended hand, ready to make introductions, but Astarion glared at him, his red eyes practically glowing with anger. 

For a minute, Selene thought he’d jump at his throat and tear him apart. 

“A good night to the both of you” Gale said, defeated, before heading out and disappearing into the streets.

Astarion sat next to her, angling his legs to face her, and his long fingers lowered her hood. Exposing her face to him. 

His eyes immediately found the wound on her neck, bandageless since her master had ripped it away. 

The tips of his fingers moved across its edges, caressing the swollen skin. All the while, he had a sad and sombre expression on his face.

“I’m sorry” he finally said, “I shouldn’t have-”, his scarlet eyes shining a little more than usual in the candlelights, like he was on the verge of tears.

Do you regret it that much ? The taste you’ve had of my blood and body. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, I was the one who asked for it” Selene answered, taking his hand in her own, to caress his knuckles with gentle swipes of her thumb. 

“Darling, I-”

“Maybe it was premature, timing isn’t actually my forte as I’m sure you’ve already seen” her voice broke slightly, shattering on the edge of the words she unwillingly articulated, “ I did not wish for you to be uncomfortable in my company, it really was the last thing I wanted.”

This time, it was Astarion’s turn to grab her hand, cradle it in the soft of his palm.

“I’m not, it’s just that I’m- Well I’m not sure if I can be-” he stammered, and she patiently listened, waiting for him to find the right ways to say what he wanted to tell her. 

But, it never really came. It was the first time she saw him at loss of words, so vulnerable and so unguarded. 

“What do you need this to be ?” she softly inquired, surrendering herself entirely to his will and desires, ready to accept whatever fate he decided for her to have. 

He looked her in the eyes again, his sorrowful pout deepening, and for a second she thought she might cry too.

“I don’t know” he breathed, suddenly sounding so very tired.

Her mind drifted back to her plan to find a nice lot of soil in Baldur’s Gate, and dig herself a pretty hole to lie into. 

It didn’t sound so bad compared to the prospect of a life without him.

“Will you wait for me, darling ?” he added, full of wavering hope, “I know it’s selfish, but will you ?”

Always. Even if you never come to me. Even if you run back to someone else. 

I’ll be with you, in whatever ways you are willing to have me. 

She smiled, the corner of her lips trembling, her eyes filling with tears. Furiously nodding. 

“Of course I will,” she almost sobbed, “I’ll stay by your side, as a friend, as your personal painter, as your living dressmaker’s dummy, or as whatever you need me to be.” 

Astarion’s hand had tightened around her fingers when she’d said “friend”, as if he knew how stupid it was, how she’d always be unable to feel that way towards him. 

They didn’t speak for long minutes, sitting in a comfortable silence, listening to sounds of people talking and laughing outside. Still hand in hand. 

After some time, Astarion guided her in front of the mirror and disappeared to fetch a big scarlet box, adorned with an equally red bow. 

He carefully opened it to unveil the most beautiful corset she’d ever seen. It was made of red velvet, and covered in sewn shiny red stones and pearls. 

The dress itself was made of layers built on layers : ruffled sleeves to wear on top the corset, and long skirts to wear underneath. When he took the totality of the dress out, to lay it out on one of his baroque chairs, she marvelled at the way the drapery-parted opening of the skirt revealed an equally adorned petticoat. Ruby-like stones trickling down the precious fabric like drops of blood. 

“I have no words, Astarion. This sumptuous - Are those real precious stones ?” she excitedly asked, kneeling to get a closer look at them in the changing lights. 

“Of course they are, darling. Who do you take me for ? This is a first class establishment !” he cackled, falsy offended.

She’d carefully put on everything that she could on her own, behind the few drapes that worked as a fitting room in Carmine’s red. 

“Come out, love, I’ll lace your corset” he’d spoken right beside her on the other side, and she’d jumped slightly.

Hesitant to show him her naked and exposed back, she tried to do it herself, clumsily. 

When she took too long to answer, he opened the curtains, and found her with her hands tightly clutching the bodice in front of her chest. 

“Turn around” he softly commanded and she did, trembling like a leaf.

His fingers never once brushed against her skin, not even he pushed her hair to the side, or tightened each row of lace a little more. 

Up until it hollowed her waist and pushed her breast up, not too tight and not too loose. 

In the mirror, the skirt dilated her hips and flowed down elegantly to the floor. 

The curves of her body had never looked so lovely, and she struggled to even recognize herself in the mirror. 

Selene looked like a queen or a princess of a far far away kingdom like this. A floating presence, wrapped in pearls, rubies and velvet.

Astarion spent long minutes kneeling at her feet and pining the dress to stitch the hem at the right length. Folding the fabric against the top of her naked feet and unintentionally tickling her each time he moved. 

“Don’t steer so much, darling, I might sting you.”

“It tickles,” she giggled, and he looked up at her with a smile that reminded her of what she’d almost forgotten while playing dress up.

There was a comfortable domesticity in this moment, something that had her heart soaring with anguish. 

Will I be able to never want for more, if it comes to it ? Won’t it consume me ?

Finally, he’d shown her how to put on the black ribbon of lace that would act as her mask, made her try on a few rings to see which one fit with the pearl earrings and necklace he’d already chosen, and that was it. 

She’d removed everything with his help and got dressed in her usual sad attire.

“I’ll come and deliver it to you tomorrow, if that’s okay” he said as she put her cloak back on and stood near the door of his shop.

“ Thank you, it is beautiful. Beyond what I’d ever imagined.” 

“ I’m glad you like it, darling” his finger skimmed across her bruise once again, more persistently than earlier, and the sadness she saw earlier in his eyes turned into something new, something darker, “you should hide it, people will talk.”

“I don’t really care if they do” she muttered, and her body moved on its own, giving in to the all-encompassing urge to touch him one last time, and she pressed a firm kiss on his cheek.

Right on his pretty dimple, dangerously near the corner of his mouth.

His silky skin felt like sin under her lips, fragrant with all the incense he usually burnt in the shop.

He tensed under her touch. For a second she almost thought he’d turn around and reciprocate, but he didn’t.

“Goodnight Astarion” she whispered against him, before stepping away and opening the door in a gush of cold wind. 

His eyes shone a little brighter, a deep crimson colour in the street lights, and he smiled wistfully, “Goodnight Selene”

When she turned around before disappearing at the corner of the street, he was still looking at her.

Still and alone in front of the door of his shop.

**

Selene had taken a bath as soon as she’d been home to clear her head.

To forget the feeling of Astarion’s fingers on her bruise, tracing the curved bruise his teeth had left in the tender flesh of her neck. 

To not remember the way his soft cheek felt under her lips.

She’d put on one of the worn down shirts she used as a nightdress. She’d brushed her long and wet hair, and tied them in a messy braid. She’d made her bed again, and put fresh clean sheets on it. She’d blown all of the candles and snuggled under her blankets. 

She’d done everything she could to put herself to sleep and yet … she had never felt that awake before. Morpheus had clearly refused to embrace her and had gone to find other exhausted souls in the city. Selene wondered if he’d purposely eluded her home, when he’d realised that she secretly didn’t wish for him to come. 

She laid on her back, still but restless. 

Alert.

Wherever her eyes landed in her moonlit room, on its walls, on its ceilings, nothing distracted her from the thought that she hadn’t dared to put into words yet.

Not even in the sacred and unviolated secrecy of her own mind. 

Not even in the small and sheltered space of her skull, where her brain was daintily enclasped. 

Once she would have properly phrased it, there would be no way to escape it anymore…The terrible implications of such a thing, the fears it’d give birth to in her heart : she was not ready to face them yet.  

It was foolish, she knew it was. Silence couldn’t hold back the sheer force of a truth like this one for long, no matter how hard she tried to find shelter in it. 

Her body spoke in other tongues, more honest ones. It shuddered each time she turned to find the cooler side of her pillow, and the bite mark he’d left on her brushed against its fabric. It warmed up so terribly at the memory of his dulcet voice in her ear, that she pressed her legs together under the cover. It liquified when she remembered the way the corner of his lips had twitched under her mouth, the way his head had tilted towards her, right before she’d stepped away and left.

As though he wanted more.

Her hand travelled south, past her navel and her hips, to find the wetness that had trickled down her inner thighs. 

A quiet admission, that she couldn’t deny. 

It moved higher, hesitantly reaching between her legs, and all she could think about were his carmine eyes and his soft hands. The pads of her fingers sensually glided against the slope of herself, moist and slicked, and she moaned when they found her sweetest spot. 

But it wasn’t just a sound of pleasure. It was a name. 

“Astarion”

She scarcely did anything like this, and even rarely while thinking about someone else. Most of the time, it was only to satisfy her needs or to fall asleep faster. 

This desire, however, didn’t only swarm from her lower belly. It felt purer, prettier, like morning dew on the petals of a flower in bloom. 

She jolted and gripped the cool sheets of her bed when her hand started to move faster. Outrageous wet sounds and groans echoing in the silence of her bedroom. 

She would’ve been a sensual sight to anyone that would’ve stumbled upon her in that sweet state. Her black hair sprawled against the white of her pillowcase. The red of her cheeks and the blown pupils of her unfocused eyes. Her shirt hiked up on her thighs when she opened them wider, exposing herself to the cold midnight air. Her trembling digits descending once again, drawing tortuous circles, and his name falling out of her mouth again when she pushed them inside. 

Suddenly, she was collapsing, deeper and deeper into her mattress, with each thrust. Her eyes flew open, the telltale signs of her orgasm mixing with an encompassing sadness. 

Something was wrong. 

Something was amiss. 

He was missing. 

Every part of her body and mind yearned for him, scorched and alight, like a burnt match. With one last motion of her fingers, it finally plummeted down, free falling without his hands to catch her. 

Instead of moaning, Selene cried. 

She sobbed like a child, unconsolably, face buried in her pillow.  

“I love you. Gods I love you. I’m sorry, I love you.”

The ceiling seemed to fall down on her, the walls got closer, and she thought she would be crushed by the weight of it all.

She was awash in a sea of confusion and ache, floating like a piece of driftwood.

“I cannot afford to want you more than I already do,” she thought as she finally climbed out of her bed with unsteady legs, “Not when it’ll only make you uneasy.”

The painter of the gristmill had said as much too, that “any form of adoration” and her “gift” do not do well together. 

Yet, she needed to see him, just as much as she needed air, so she did what she’d spent her life doing.

She only knew one way to ease her pain and to silence her longing : painting. 

Selene washed her hands and her face, tied her hair once more, and lit each of the candles in her painting room. As many as she could. 

A blank canvas was already waiting for her, untouched since she’d placed it there a month ago. 

Be careful when you paint him, that pale elf that you love. 

A while ago, she’d found herself unable to remember the details of his face. That night, they were embedded in her mind, carved into every corner of it. 

She settled in front of it and for long hours she drew and painted him by memory.

She painted faster and better than she ever did before.

Her hands did not shake, her will did not falter, for she did not care if his reflection climbed out of her painting to destroy her. Selene would welcome him with open arms and a kiss, as it was all she could ever give to Astarion. 

In every possible shape. 

She carefully drew his sublime face and his bust, surrounded by countless red peonies. 

He had the same look as earlier in his shop, a fragile and hesitant kind of tenderness in his eyes, and she got so lost in them that she did not realise that the sun was slowly rising through her windows. 

While she was focused on the velvety texture of each flower’s petal, mixing different types of darker and brighter scarlets, the canvas unnoticeably trembled.

The first flower that bloomed out of the fabric brushed against her forehead, and Selene looked up just in time to see it expand and open in the early morning’s light. Hundreds of other flowers grew out of her canvas, in the same incredible way, until her atelier smelt like a lush garden in summer. Their roots pierced through the woven hemp and colonised the legs of her easel, dangling like jungle vines near her naked feet. 

Exactly at the moment Selene was about to get up, something else, or rather someone, emerged out of the oil painting. 

One of his hands reverently cupped her face, the other one disappeared in the thick of her curls, gently pulling until the pin that held them up fell on the floor. 

His curls and skin looked pearlescent in the daylight, and the only thing she could think about, when his face approached her own, was how much she wanted to commit this vision to memory. 

To never forget how angelic he’d look in the sun, if only he could stand under its light. To paint it for him one day, so he’d see it for himself.

Faintly, she felt the roots of the flower continue to grow until they curled around her ankles and legs. 

She waited for hurt to come, in whatever form, since the woman had deemed a portrait of the vampire ill-advised. 

Except her suffering never came.

Instead, his soft pliant lips magically pressed against her own. 

Selene nearly fell off her stool when she realised what was happening. Tingles travelled down her spine as she marvelled at the feel of him.

He kissed her long and slow, licking along her cupid’s bow and lower lip until she opened up to him. Blossoming under his touch like the peonies that had filled the room.

The paintbrush she was still holding slipped from her fingers and fell onto the floor, splattering speckles of red paint all over her toes.

His tongue entered her mouth eagerly, and even the taste of him was deceptively realistic and exactly how she’d imagined it’d be.

Tangy red wine, metallic blood, and the sweet inexplicable flavour of himself. Something she’d have no words to describe or compare to.

She fell forward, gripping the easel, when his hands travelled down her neck and felt for the scabs of her bruise, much like he had the previous night.

Deepening the kiss, he growled against her and gripped her hair tighter. The gesture felt so true-to-life that she whined in turn, dazed and aroused. 

Would you have kissed me the same way if I had stayed a little longer ?

He pulled away all too soon, dribbles of drool attached to their mouths when they separated. A deep and obscene kiss.

The kinds she imagined a sophisticated and suave man like Astarion would only give when his composure went up in flames.

And just like that, he was gone. 

Evaporating in a cloud of silver and nacre. 

The flowers withered and died, disintegrating into a shower of dark petals. The canvas oozed with a white and red liquid, stabbed and ripped in various places by what had been the sprouts of the flowers. 

Selene sat there long after, flushed and lovesick, like Pygmalion kneeling in front of Galatee’s statue. 

#astarion bg3 #astarion fic #astarion x female oc #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #larva writes #baldur's gate 3 smut #astarion fanfiction #Spotify #Portrait of the pale elf

[msookyspooky]

Im watching The Lost Boys for the first time !! I wanna watch more horror movies, i only started watching the ones not for kids like last year sksksk so i have some catching up to do

And i think theres no one better to ask for recs than you spooky, so please send me your favorites !

Besides the scream franchise and, as of like yesterday, the first two Halloween movies i actually haven’t seen any big classics

I saw that AND Near Dark fuck yeah good for you!! You're getting a damn good head start lol Thanks for giving me this honor bc adgwadhfa I swear that's so nice of you 🥺🖤 Sadly, I really haven't found too many like Near Dark or Lost Boys. You could consider Fright Night or Vampires or Interview with a Vampire but imo they still don't have the same feel.

I'm elaborating on certain ones bc I think you'll really like them.

Cult Classic's with a decent following here on Tumblr so you can look at Fanart/fanfics afterwards:

- House of Wax (2005)

You'll like this one! Pretty decent sized fanbase here on tumblr, new content all the time even for it being almost 20 years old. Listen if you liked Severen in Near Dark...You'll probably like Bo cause not only do they look like they could be long lost cousins or brothers (I need a crossover that Severen is the Sinclair's like great-great-great Uncle or something and they run into each other while looking for food one night) and the Sinclair's got that thick Louisiana accent that's hot af especially if you thought Severen's Southern accent was hot 😏😤

Simping aside, the story is pretty good. It's a little morbid but in a good way, really great backstory for the villians and you know somethings off with this town right away. It also has Paris Hilton in it and Brian Van Holt plays both Bo and his twin brother Vincent. Oh, and Wade/the protagonist boyfriend is Sam from Supernatural.

- Jennifer's Body (2009)

- Ginger Snap's (2000)

- Texas Chainsaw Massacre

This one is different for everyone bc they made so many...So freaking many and none of them match up together. Not really, lmfao! I like the 2003 remake and 2006 remake prequel the best, then the original from the 70s, then 2 and 3 and 4 I lump together bc they are some campy wild as fuck rides. I laughed through most of them and then was mortified and then laughing again. It's truly peak camp horror. I personally dislike the newest one and the 3D one was *okay* but you can honestly pick and choose to watch any of them and it won't matter bc none of them relate to each other like they should. I would watch the original and the remake and whether you want to watch the remakes prequel in 2006 or number 2 onward etc is up to you!

- Childs Play & Bride of Chucky (1988 and 1998)

- Rob Zombies Halloween Remake

I think you should watch this one if you liked the original Halloween's it's a gritter remake and honestly this Michael scares me even more than the original. He's freaking like 7 feet tall. I have not watched Halloween Kills or any other newer ones with Jamie Lee Curtis and I need to! But I definitely think you should give this one a chance if you liked Halloween. If you ever see RZ Michael Myers on here in prompts or imagines; this is the Michael they're talking about.

- Evil Dead (1981)

*This one is a classic its as campy and gorey as it got for back then but be warned there's a SA scene you can skip where she goes out into the woods. When you see the vines wrap around her...SKIP. The rest is fine.*

- Fear Street (2021)

Honorable mentions that don't really have fandoms but should definitely be watched at least once:

- Pumpkinhead (1988)

It has Jesse from Near Dark/Lance Henrikson as the main character! I grew up with this one and it has that Appalachia horror vibe that's near and dear to my heart. It's about a man getting revenge for his dead son by a witch that lives deep in the mountainside. He pays her debt to summon a hellish demon to take revenge on the young adults that accidentally kill his little boy and leave him to die by the road but then Lance/ The Dad has to try and stop it when it goes too far.

- Tremors (1990)

- Night of the Demons (1988) *Flash Warning*

LMFAO my face when she stuck a lipstick tube through her... 'skin' 😦

I qoute this all the time 👹TeLL mE Im Preettyyy👹 lolol it's fun! Point blank, it is FUN! They were so dumb and decided "Let's open a portal to hell in an abandon funeral home on Halloween" 😃

- I Know What you did Last Summer

This isn't one of my favs bc Julie/the main character gets on my nerves so much. She is so fucking useless most of the movie...BBUUTTTT her friend Helen/Sarah Michelle Giler really makes up for it. It's very similar to Scream that they're being killed off one by one and have to figure out who it is before it's too late but it's not nearly as good as Scream imo. It was kind of a trend after Scream for movies like Valentine, IKWYDLS, Urban Legend etc to try and copy what Scream had and some are good! The Curve is an example! But none of them are Scream to me, not even close but It's worth a watch tho.

- Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Yes, the movie 1992)

- Trick r Treat (2007)

- The Craft (1996)

- Let's Scare Jessica to Death (1971)

- Salems Lot (It's getting a remake this year!!)

- House on Haunted Hill (1999)

- Ghostship (2002)

- The Skeleton Key (2005)

Horror Movies that are my favs that I found scary or creepy or were just that good:

- Pet Semetary (1989)

This is probably my all time favorite horror movie. It is so...Unnerving and eerie and gross without hardly any jump scares and zero cgi for the time. It's all just wonderful acting and special effects makeup and story telling. To this day as an adult, Rachel's sister in the bed makes me uneasy. Anything by Stephen King is usually good but this is by far my all time favorite. Other favorites by him are Carrie, Christine, Sleepwalkers, Firestarter, Children of the Corn, IT, Sometimes They Come Back, and The Shining just to name a few.

- Rosemary's Baby (1968)

- Orphan (2009)

DO NOT LOOK AT REVIEWS. I'D GIVE MY LEFT METAPHORICAL NUT TO REWATCH THIS FOR THE FIRST TIME ALL OVER AGAIN!! Don't ruin it for yourself! Just find it, watch it and enjoy

It's ggoooddd, even tho I've only watched it twice, that was something else.

- The Descent (2005)

I'm claustrophobic and yes whats in the cave is scary but she gets STUCK at one point and I couldn't breathe. I was biting my nails like it's scary but couldn't be me cause I'll never go cave diving ever never ever. The cave itself was scarier than the creature im js.

- The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

- Us (2019)

- Suspiria (2018...I've never seen the original but it's on my list)

- The Others (2001)

- Jeepers Creepers (2001)

THIS ONE. It's probably going to be considered a classic in a few decades. It's this...THING stalking ppl for their body parts. It all could have been avoided if ppl minded there business in this case 🙃 They had the sister being the smart, brave one while the brother was more sensitive which was a nice change of pace for a horror movie

And they are the most realistic sibling duo I've ever seen in a movie too. No overly mushy, 'love you bro/love you sis' vibes. They call each other names but don't hesitate to save each other either while calling each other names. And did I mention the Thing/Creeper is scary af? I live near a cornfield. My parents would point to the sky and be like "OMFG WHAT IS THAT?!" KNOWING this thing terrified me and lil me was screaming and ready to windmill any demon coming from the sky or cornfield after me.

There might be a fandom for this but it's small if there is.

There's so many but I some are good, some are forgettable, some are downright out bad. I just tried to include ones like Scream or Near Dark or that I think you would like! Hope this helps and any followers feel free to drop any recommendations too!! 🖤

#i have ssooo many but these are just off the top of my head and with a quick google search on dates

[libidomechanica]

“To sound of Subject;”

A sonnet sequence

               1

Thus while he love first unfauld he is, bitter, but yet he would always honour, and every night can everything. So weeps for thou can perjury, even as, where is why shouldst not resigned to find my feet. To sound of Subject; and Pity fell on his passion of pelf, than hands in tower, fair only in the deep. Tide. Its pass’d that piano, and my power supple, sinews of maidens, thereon he got, and dances read, to vent, or Curse, rais’d in a poppy from thee! Why does teache there’s nobody knows where caught with forth between us an useless may yet prevailed if, what doesn’t melt!

               2

Bubbled, till shone, or do I for age to stealth breath from her till be here, why of the stage? Thou roll’st above me. Where flowers, appeared: he batter what come to comfort? Fresh bleed attend. The wandering a kitchen chat with sometime any more to redress of him. Where this: how she that trampling to upheave to squeeze like to a boy so fair gem, sweet hour, went Hero this gad-fly brush through on the camp, a charred out that matter which every way among the stood all the Sword of their house no more ord’nary eyes and warms: th’Eternal numbers nurst; and when thy far behind dust of deathlesse renowne?

               3

To that Tim would cure theirs’ the shepheards quill. And I felt delight and pale light in the apple, sends too full flight; but, like fog smother’s garden ways beside an English fire. And life of herself escaped heard her own, my hope, and raise, nor still pass on; his Hands might my mind, or sick, and Taste, with bright passionate, and and water nymph is foly one is shield and blackout, Madam white lambs and ev’ry side; nor granted slow honey to Arbitrary Lord, such hail, such doing, my darling anvil banged with laughter, and the Peoples Prayed too alien to Pindar; and for all that blow softly saint.

               4

With morning’s right seem certain, and everything above silent, etc. Is the person, numb to the force, whose bodies and your Father an’ mother; coud he burn’d all his heart can ease reign. True to walk … if simple shepheards Tityrus, I heard the height: for human he toiled in plaster; you wake, sleep, that woud by Law shall still that let you and I myself to shoud Peoples Brave, and tears do greet that she with loue in hand. Till he blew in the back-yett be a-jee; syne up the Heathen Priest, when the first Onset, all prophets of the serpent of his pocket bring, old Susan’s clothes will I die!

               5

Only former place it was the friendship’s true? He sees!-Woo! Leaving on some penanced lady to surprize, the dead; last, points, and trod, as simple ayre, the old ways. And many Grace; for will thy selfe in my heart of the lone is left to haste the shut eye whereto I struck a wound was strewn rich spices the vale. Himself thrice as our whole inherited sin on the skirt and brew’d, to loue with my fears beset with fears—you used to prevents my WIshes, and shield. Ah God for he was sweets inclosed her false and die. Shape and stirred poets first tis Glory: And who have mown. By the while the wood.

               6

Us is dead, half a fitting bloudie painted finger bright have becomes back, but today: you, incomparably light flower is too full well might them all: a common place whereof shepheards welth: when a throne: see now, by Honour blanket overborne Mercury, then man, her youngest ready now him—him you of the wind, and quiet as a suddenly wonder hap, and ampler flowers, new-plucked from Courtier’s arms he laughs at you the golden hook, to hunt the beautiful sight, and hoary head. As she begins again;—the cloak, like to expiate which I the Arrows herself, her hair.

               7

To give thee as though I be stone half hidden influences of earth, thy grace and still he is kind, as a realm beyond then with ooze, and blind by natural Instinct, the bed, susan, she flies to the sea and carried lady, and leave, and tall, the chance were wisdom wafted; thought, and Johnny! A numerous Honours cruell fate, so fit as Warlike bridle too is think that want to lead the murder all, I felt at Abydos; since they ding at the left behind than what she neither Johnny burr at your doing! On the moonlight long as before getting somewhere filled: you thumb is large was the night!

               8

Left the Kindred of the Leaf River brothers by the King when she sees him whispers, in the hand: she candle-light—swear by St somehow coud his tune my hand hidden Mystery. Surprise; her long his bedside’s blossom-belts, and home is in their love’s life is that I shall with lossum cheer, compared her blown this world a spot the garden’s glory up in their more still has comeliness the place. Father turn from the eye in dew of his Title not a dawn that smote and in the child rightfull Title not to invented slope in the gloomy morn, to make her, white limbs to fetched away she kept.

               9

Why, they could their Life before that creatures state, the land, as he distaind with science- fiction and plunge him advanc’d to be found he thus respected, by-and-by ye do lie, O help, and I listen, which thus Replies: no Courtier’s arms the engines laid. To squeeze like the Whole. The tattoo pulsing at her! Such for thy, confin’d: why am I flattered, Kate Brown’s defect of lonely, i, a loyal mind, for from those rose, or plunge into roses, the crust. The oratory rescue-ship through on the green lollipops. Unto dance no more numerous Progeny was seen. And thrust in fresh bleed.

               10

That man not deserts the sweet. Like folks of Men, and stately Pine set in me as pillars of the wood at last, with dewy gem, frighted Vows deeper to displays, and so he that sighed to visits; but sense, had not contends, it selfe doth compassion of whatsoe’er you prate I almost her woman’s heart, and nothing then Atlas might, with the height: nor ever many a white limb in it. Then bade my Maud, she wretched Ixion’s selfe, yet not quench, nor hate, forth the most ambiguous atoms with than going tone, and more near with blows raine; where, where, shews the play; I fear and golden head, looking to go.

               11

Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! Thrice had in your travelling. Tis lost a germ or a birch through the pointed finger and holds to smere, that as a skeleton. That from me, and his bow, and I know you love distant age, has some hidden from a wood, and heels on the moonlight talked, and I from the libertie; and something else to come, she dwell among thee, like vibration-like. In fear of whatsoe’er so poore Muse, for unawares come to be so involv’d by thine—and soon the Muse want thou list in honour, if they are circling child, my wrong, it with anguishment, received in your idiot boy.

               12

An hendy hap ich hath shall closely by his horses, girls, neglected with all the bud and sometimes into roses it would lie; yet still and pausing no excuse to all love the Jews. Long since fuller bold, his very frowns as Troy; sylvan scene is delights better ear, that guide-post—he turned, about to my verse a vase you got into its goblins in the balance him from wheresoe’er young, I’m o’er they burr at your slender pale, nor ever would have flowers, much liker than Pow’r for they, yet for her haste the little, an’ I’ll come to infuse my table Soul, not thy thoughts were neglected.

               13

As Nature, and, seeing griefe I now my sweets and golden dew, twas the stand at home again. Voice she the lining or interstice, it is all things, estrangle with him and my please, and by lovers slain. Yes, that he had got the jewel hung himself on the moonlight and dust, light with ev’ry thine eyes, as the same milder plan, but the dumb-sister made he bore do you know to my sire, without defence flew o’er young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young beam of Time now, the sun himself would a genius, and there wherewith barren Land: whose tardy plumes life, and a ho, and wore: and for age to comfort?

               14

With became masculine and short time that a matter one displaies: and safe these things, but half-blind: I stood upright themselves the crust like tears that was setting infamy. My earthly lyres, wherein. She sailor since it is me sent, elegant, like new porridge whose who, by Fools, when they can drink. Writhing best of herself in with seely shew’d and made in losing new love one, my fluent tear my Garments sweet trees and the mother; coud bear: had God of war to clime throne ask me not far better’d how once growes Melampode: for who’s so pure, and I sang another? Will leaguing, its pillow.

               15

Rushes rancke, it aches the night; for the pains! So rear’d she adore? Table to a fly. To take the floor of the unborn child shaken by Maud by the South, what decision? His goodly person to sing, yet my feet leave cross’d the blood knots in violent, etc. Descending time, you surety- like David in man’s Foot, leaving went on his partly twas the rift of force, beneath her follow ledge holding like a hornet’s nest. When I love, I told her arms, that place, well know of his legs, oh! Sing your lives me heart to me, in watercresses. Like a stuff are of Pallas bold. You often flye.

               16

Fancy to run; at nights did excels, in publick Good, by a contumelious time throng to keepe good body to live alone, then, Israel! Like louing breaks, and like a part resently pats the faults he frail of loue, and deface thou, unskill’d of Subject and short the edgèd steep her hair. For Shimei, thought Kings we fellows next, an awfull Fame, unworthy whome shall were affied. Atoms with Jealousies and your breathe swelling how frailty of the plough came there of it how I do, when make the same Law supplant a strawe. Feeling, weary side. And, with blandishment them at once from high how once she will blot?

               17

The finally, there were deare, and whenas the beast in his Years not yet, that ye car’d na a flie; but Manly Force. Sure suite ill availed, as he thickest and still at once I was fill it do o’erflows, proud his Soul and flings, run their shade the Skein of all Command; to your left me fightingale, whose Nation of the wood. The sylvan scenes as still-kept course ne’er was these affection, pays. Beat, happy Lycius courteously seated of boot or spur, that glittering sweetness find his hopes crowned. And loth to gather’s seas that wealthy issue boaste: and Dark, drawn from the long indentures: oh gentle muses!

               18

It cries, whose ugly hills alone. The been, what delves that they Crack’d the margents, which no eye shoulders of Leonardo or Michels mountains disappear, and wound I slept in your had a peach: he take on its gulf a friend each at the People would not fear; each other Israelite compact below thine so bright, so threw his must be the tips of happy houres. Or their golden scorned troupe. Lollipops. I used that Peggy Pout gives inseparated shrine! Poor Susan’s clothed with his vaulted palm a whispers of Death’s untimely free, but when to gather body passively: your Arguments see.

               19

She kisses without of all Immoderate sort of men, much less too; but what being as my Affection or most especial charge, was mischiefs to foot, but Lofty to a shade—for pity to Imperial view, the dread they were the Jews; for dead: the owlets purr, and summo foelicitas. But why? So sweet to tell me, the pony, Betty’s stands, to thee, let me every side; her level rays, like chase, we human swain. That wild Hippolytus Leander, being blossom, as undress dancing heads do hold, thou dost exceed the lily clean; unbrib’d and faint Elysium, but there.

               20

What meaning under as she fled in shell within, now could never straight with his Truths are threw, and rulen ouer me, if in Susan Gale. Short the murderous Mind; tis lost, displease, and with pornography, with oaths, whose on while his Goodnight Rauens did saue with the sun’s rich chariots, Horsmen, and anon doubt not, but right think me to combat forbear, the little space. Oft stombles all itself, but who did that: But three bonie was harden’d hands and queen with the Frown, was mischief folds of flesh. You? But now begins to piercing passage, to clear. That one sight, my lambs and must; so fair stain’d her body take.

               21

Breathless as a tomb. For I was made bleed. Close by the worm inside it like salt Medway, the old king: I took that wraps my Highland Mary. Leaped lived through comfort: live, drawn; her like these curious than she, and hopes, welcome, proud lady, with their arms or leave the Oracle goes by. Her far the spring was his flake off such come to ye, my lad, o whist and by the shall calendars, down to the thin shell fish down the laughs at even thou the gates of thine armes, have decease, to the person I love: a violence the one thee as each pretence of all the gay, green-grown in Bathsheba’s Embraced.

               22

Bodies from her eyes I hear us, or if thus by the starres and that’s love the hair, like old leaves with both earth; and Poverty shok; and once burnt their sphere; grief and driven out of, as once a Fruitful Mercury. Who nere confesse the countenance, that Golden Diadem he gives of neon. I am they han fail. Regular and all the wantonness a lawfull Issue boaste: and, right need to my ear forgot; cool was a cataract on all their house, its Self-deceived; then to be vext I had not lovers with that might daylight of the touch outrage worse awhile, the Present higher.

               23

Them ride, in a pellet of contagious. And Betty now through the Court: impatience thy beauteous gift, methough neither stept: she, alas! And beast or highschool’d onely dower he will be bequeathed, dissolv’d, or other words made he bridge all time to scale the Grossness of Blood, by Fate, the passport is between: ’O woe is death in the sky might that he would my heart know to the plain, joining flashed to have I? The more fun than she hies, but yet his death like words could, but so warm and grac’d to be chiefest corn dies into Law: if not desires: the People of those that drink and I lose that heart outgoe.

               24

Starry eyes, possess what I cannot tell what Wonders down gagelike the timbrel rings: but, where had bribe me to Punish a Body to deathly ache; till to leave me a new increase the ringing aft to put it in my peace may turning between a cymballed break a Loyal Peers as the golden Diadem he given fall vnsoft. And love nor many, fretted train of Godly Factious Youth that lateral Line when Hells dire Artificers of a dream the larger was inflamed. Wailing clown, who pul’d before me frae my mammny’s ae bairn, wi’ unco folk I wear. But I will blot?

               25

Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! Faithful lovers do greeting, a Son! The would her star thee: I fly and fruit unseen; unseen, she should he living and painting, or bring anger of him, and the inlaid whose evening head is not fair eyes-speech, and kisse the please, to rob the pony, where are the Moon, that dost think if thus Orinda died: heaven? Behold is censured my day. For her side; the sounds Aeolian breath as frantic looks as with transpire more the snow till she should we none some laws destroys: and always true. Ne stroke of stone-shot off: we enter of the untrodden traces old.

               26

Can I give to hire takes they may be thy praise hue scorn. They offer still at Susan Gale? That are, with liquor, numb with a Dagger, the fireflies glowing of him. I thanks in and a stair—lean on a Silver more. Devil’s Elbow. Be arbiter oft he presents lesson missed again, and entered with love’s arrowy smarts, that clashed with oaths, fair Lamia’s eagerness and every vulgar paper to be scorn’d, that might: for those bodies fill it prove? And every leaf that? Make answered I, for the iron hills alone. Go together maiden at him to the name the image to comfort still!

               27

And hesitations Sense and haunten rattling mute, which Hebrew Priest, while Nature takes the Best. To thy heart, and kisses; and their duty, now will I die! Where is nowhere, as what mean. On the blew his mind green freckless of my heart more to protest that wealth and from the lamp and gone, the devil is still have it will go and sob buried into separating shrilled with a Jealousies and let me confess; and, right rather an’ a’ should return’d from which is with means this old Instructor; but, fury, and how the violet of his Friendship False, at once more brighted thus replied, wild nights.

               28

So easie tis Duty; but Natures, and die as calm, and Jebusite displayed; and far, near adjoining only gift refuse? They brought be drawn from Shame if they han great summo foelicitas. Called hands suited well, Your voice is successor, who them as he that made loves the peninsula tilts its game; it seem’d as suddenly wonder bancke, it sprong, Moody, Murmuring ivory mount and makes here. Invade. Spoke not destroy the green, she wonder that conuersation yielded but he is my will nobler desires the act is done by Weavers in vain Pretence cleaning that’s out on evermore.

               29

That none knew it were budding, darker way. His Neck was, by such a roar that you would trusty nights! The Death was he imprisoner. Could provoke him. That care the weight of Business what thou be false daughter eyelids screened. Pearls complains. He did; not cold and the chanced, their flocke so like! But such, whose eyes best think of throats would keepe a sacrifice to her gentle body through then Roger turret and o’er with Martyrdom did this fine Waist. His broadcast little by little band of early held. It till full many a boy, she lifted hands, as in they Petitioners: who ever shed by evermore.

               30

Of lightheaded sexton that his man; the beautie be made manifold high and see then deep-sunken eyes and of grant of its teeth and his Youthfull with endless the spake my fancye eke from coste to buoy the one these fear, like at an Abbethdin with feather and pity ere he mayne, so call’d from my Hands: to such sort, as both in beauty temptation, and stemmerring Kings where their more. And square to the should we none nearer to be in a cloud, sure suited best than a hen to him is none. As Jove did both to render no song aft to her palace of Angel of this flocks to foot with pity!

               31

Then she pass’d, and looking breaks, and David’d Rule these tunefull Colin, I lament, then some near the Romish Tityrus intelligence, and bars, to secure, o’ercast with the woody dale; and in such heavens rewarded, but burnt from Shírín the gods he farme. Where all that he hopeless as he wonder in the wide-spreading or put to gain by him swim, and hell recount, but pity: thus ebbing your hair was drenched her than Hybla drops about to the vale: and coldness grace it oft, where honour, if possible, yet won she wardrobe; the on me some had got the sun has not going, the path.

               32

He crash of spite of spears and I from heaved and born sight present east: tis time, when Lucy play, where, to whom in vain, the dimensions full,—while faint, with endless off, and to her therefore him alone, that have hard trewe, yet is hardest fate, so that their Spoils by Inspiration-like besmear’d she thin Disguise: Achitophel’s praise. For that least abyss: what cannot more than Loyalty expressëd, dear joy, how fleeting, like mate, and lord it, with Tomyris and inexhausted verse-men you know herself, but to gathered by her lips, he’s out their fellows in fury of discurtesee, and for whom the Crown.

               33

Dark cedar, the dust disturb’d her own deep drencht in Manhood, sat water-fall she said, I dared repeat; which in our naked, will their Interest made the same pains! And hark the language—As men to lead through neither spirit went: till have Right; to keep the shining in me t’approve me, Hero, hate to do with companions, watching therefore towards falling o’er me and so it pleasure, and being sudden lighting then called him wild: not cold. So call it loving, not speak the Faction came thy promised her an’ mother of a morning to go, and seemed eternal year was abhord, the wreathed to none.

               34

) Another Sestos from the falterian. Here hard I’ve dark with Dogge of fire, let us remembering moon in her from that unusual Theams; and later in their guilty, but a cold reverend father conquest, show of you this. With pity should you may she said, And things to Defender, fearing though on this is to the base, yet he knew their time before me like Horace and wild destroy they ne’er Misfortune’s mischief to shakes their Second false hopelessness I knewe theyr boyes can see, my brides back and dig deepe, then shall end. Have shot my face unknowing Hero’s ruddy cheek they burrs, and be saved friend.

               35

Then, Hero, nothing person to moue; not sought her large: how my store him: one like not, flying day has up upon a throne, pretence, proclaim. And though Oppression, and War was a time, when silver Line dividing forth the king; they knew it was not quite sure that dream I glance, that a crust, jutted the incantation, is loath together drinking- songs, all are to front of words he had sunk a flocculents, whose Motions all the time to Mortal wronged Diana when the moonlight all thee chamber, melting my sweet the sweet, so the more truth upon the gray kings are aware of angel wings, and swore.

               36

That unusual heat burnt from her up and, where Venus demands. An hendy hap ich han be seen, and soul, and made: ægypt and bold as if it seem alive has somewhat god would carriage, and ne’er young, I’m o’er young, ’twad be a tatter’d by this: her Arethusiastick breeding his lip had lov’d theirs’ the lads: but, where she fort, and every One, and simplicity and for you so longer in her love can go to Corinth all that erst so long, I do love thee sweet, it whimpers, tossing a kitchen, maybe looked dolphin when Salámán, Oh my Soul, not a thousand torn with him and thence worse, retire ants to thee. Nay, Betty’s husband from thence they could needs dissemble Venus’ sweet, how much thou a thous but easy those, were dead leaf, or an unavoidable violence, absent—mindedness. Her had at the judging rose; for yet, love maks a’ the Nation followed from grapes out of the sun.

               37

Quick a growl like a maid in her friend. Now, free of midnight, O Heav’n has hid. Blowing on the love her silver Line divided into Yes and past, the lone like a vision into a fly. Is not move so tender and fevers bore, resum’d their Zeal was first the mind was setting one as they drewe abacke, and wat’ry star when young, ’twad be a sin; if Betty will had for that hole I crawled upon the harmonies; and dearest gift refuses treasure as love that same disease, some Expensive, some Expensive, and not Israel Suite, his Cooks, her wrongs that watch’d the water, clean; unbrib’d, unsought, would bloomy sky where heo on me sae kindlier: we entered into a few to love me. The earth; and now shine tinselling each encumbrance of private play: for who taught to be destiny contriv’d long years Rose, I’ll stay; I fear the Night have chasing Rebels to scared by Prince our royal work&weep.

               38

If certain darkening homestead, and in every leaf that was all my heart! Dividing with winning as she heart bastard. The wretch who did the prompted, answer which Hebrew Ballad in your Filial Name, and loued aye. Whatever had been misled, and you loves him vp out one sweet, how Faction came: he take her an’ a’ should drown head with catapults, she stood in my arms some good aduice: or pride! For sure it be well-wash’d by band soft look at you are what a calendar could stay, for unawares come to ye, my trespass-chiding and the buff, all uncurl’d gray old love, below the seat of Joy.

               39

Lord of happy hours of this foly one is shield—shocked, that, and rolled him up and grac’d, and adored. Up your arms; the book of scorn is the hands from the Tenement will I strived; I am alone so Beauty grownde did deny nor gastly did adore; her light, then maids were constant Sylvio did; his gains unsoiled, which the highest for euer, when the lists were comin’ and satyrs standing Crowd be Judge. If those palms together my love, and load his Book; but, where is no more beauty had as come to ye, my joy! And, like dust, like honey-fly Coral beneath her she was snow, you as his.

               40

But he is uneasy evermore. But when the moon in the suffered upon a kind Sir, I’m fley’d it shall beseige thy notes to heaven, earth to boast him, a new flowers, your like not drink up the harpy play, what Wonder is bearded lord of this she should vanish ere he was gone. Creation marks upon th’ approaching at the Nation farms in Kula, drive the bed a tent, and Johnny soone would have harden, so at her nimble feet leave their Tast. And Betty she struck vainly in the morning for the learnd fame truth of David, for less plan foursquare, in mid-air the un-apple.

               41

This, that strike you neither from the eye is that a matter what hops about me, for piteous battled over my tremulous destiny had he begins too bound above the darts. And go; but, Betty shed. Intensifies and, seeming Friend, nor thirsts applause might be, simple and to be fed. Partly features, a though not performing Great, and dances, of fire, and with nought that God poore Muses Hobbinoll, I bless itself in being knives the pines the golden gate and small, so that I could teache herself in eyes, were whereon the game begins his owne woe; so high, or thee as a yardstick. Oh!

               42

Nymph even thou not every moment to climbe. If certain of Loyalty expressed, when, nak’d Boy, and naked to thee, walking anvil banged with no more true! Where she lay and her neck in the play. Go: Cyril, you shudder, love, my transient inroads the answer that vertuous deluded thus elect some breathed in claye, and there upon his child is well, when birk, how rich charily kept ye not delayed i’d count the research even the sulfuric air, he stools, whose loose and from the bane of him, hurling Son? Sing is the filching guile keeps yourself still men, by mysterious Times, theyr abode.

               43

If you will ne’er reply, “you are the strange. She said had a pease, and how his eyes, and far in hands, if Bands upon think upon your strange and livery, so heau’nly bliss, a purer sapphires, yet Comets rise, to both missed it Venus sends forth to see, and let him leavened all Breathless Worthies ligge so long have here, upon my Forgiving at think it for her comes down from amaze, to raise the stroked my day. I was fill its pedestal, all the hills, and everything ask’d herself, what thou know no dear Love— althought indu’d with his blessed night and clear, blush’d with love me; that Thomalins Embleme.

               44

When body’s words oration, take his Aid has the air sick, and when head where’s no rose a Monarks, and mighty, nodding, ding; sweet mouth with Absalom, ambition Unattaint,—a Rosebud blowing in this experiment that Stella dearer way. So neighbour pain; desire, a pleasantly define—nor thou forsloe, and full with diminsh’d long his Overthrow of your hallowed them all. She shore; and dearest gift prevent; nor was enamoured of the down: holy and then while theyr abode. This idol which the Land. Their baldness I may all rich cluster’d by one trance to be there he is all.

               45

” Thus youth, where na comin’ and once for it! And Betty fifty yardstick. Tempest can wink; and spends on his out from weary Muse to me; nay, what good body, tell me, then thee. She pats they God’s functions; never heart is too fast, while he sleeker time she sees, and, wanting, as quiet in my corage counteth evil. My mind thou flapper, you Draw; and Wonder head, nor bussed than such odious to laughing jest, the gods and later, could deceiving Water drain’d: doubting thrown hand subtracting Folly far that taste of Heaven, as late th’ Anatomie of any. Nights before they bene night.

               46

Or art old, among the day’s disguise: Achitophel, growne now all your cradled as time you leaves Me, Heav’n has a brother. How blubber’d is the publick Officers trade, fools delicious to our power: e’r Saul they were, and loued their Cant, and swore than man was my love, humble sacred bays and thus; which taught Jerusalem Displease, did but court other he got it, but did she to hye not from my Julia’s sweat from an high clouds among. Of their strength my duty strove to break, which lover boasting the gift we receive. Tell me though yet, that sat in the savages were all the Beach, and an R.

               47

Brow, all bounds not know how far away, ’twould beast in the Jebusite displeased away she went. More than Life, you trust their Soul its chiefest cou’d be untrodden walk, and Grisi yet let the God of spite of Power, like a beer can intoxicating here, and gazed will sourly leas: and with downcast, not at all: since fuller bold, mought I trace the fares. For Death, resume to play should washed into that mother until my tears do restraint, and pity never rusts, Turne the lightly slake him raised, which when raging Fevers bore to stand: a man so various, Just, and, pledging Adriel them disease.

               48

No King to mind prints his father’s steeds, and fair; heap the Nymph and called to say truly? For Shimei taught of my Mortal ears listen told a tale, however say suppose me described the Lords, which he did look be loves; never got him give invented virgin shade: where you, I do love is abuse. That Change Foundations, always makes the second false Achitophel, grown pond of our own lands in verse—Boys! And Betty listened aside, in his hauntering Lucan, Horace, whom I shall carry it in my hearts have live to sing, hey ding at my girl remembered the sightless again, with than war.

               49

A struck out in your brother is grows perched by and blear-eyed Will the god, seeing away, and look’d up, and plate shall I be saved from hence, and every vulgar papers yellowing lover. When models being seen you were tedious meat is madness came thy fair thrust in his broke. He storm of gallop on for ten looked on the old kings are there is me to see the sported in his breast thou be affrayed, dived down, but Pallas joys refin’d our selfe, all nights of insult let thy birth to me and piercing leave me in requite, shew like the Power, to whom those word. He sees, and swiftly blood of spleen.

               50

Storming from them on the lose him raised, whence betwixt the Storms; but lent thy bed alone. I’m o’er the dry grass, they drewe abacke, and lief, and would returns now unto each other silver Breast, then my eyes, and thought, then the land, which grows; who dares comeliness, icily regular, splendidly null, dead they find it, as I can, thousand rioting through your beds and secret trusty night or wrongs his own: tis wisdom to much graces, two names, Spring, than thou shall I believes the blast furnace, you the sun. Some music entered me if it come would be gone all on high upon her beauty take.

               51

The Laws for so in plaints, causd of dissenting Tyrians prop’d: and when I crept, and wound me to maids are my nymphs of blossoms get? And stretch’d out, or wherewith such warmth again. So he sigh’d and silver feet, your books, his Head. The stood on half-muffled to fill it virtue is sunlight, and nursed at you were once burnt their weede, and blest in rymes bene fat, and Honour, and my wish, that’s hand, mace, returns now astonied with an endless of gold, all my mammy yet. Oh dear lady, and light dale, and cold deadened felon, took compassions, all smiled, and the moon in her elfin blood and prove me.

               52

Who serve thee, walking like a bird, what was near, oh! The still panting Hermes could creature lies, I mean Rebels who by blinded many a stationed into dance in all the warm excesses, whom in vain. Hear the sea and cracked behind than nursed again the wooed wo, most Peace can receive. The silver moor land, who Cost to bed. Or, if possible, yet Comets rise, find it, as the houses and hopes the scorn, our only where did sing or thou love, the only consolation by the ways—or all you tried his height. Have it to me. Fu’ loud and by a Niggard Birth were na ventures. Down the most kissed.

               53

It cannot guess to blessed flockes of Heaven did play, there we hunt his hands do love their morions, all my Fear: thought, nor sweet but when I remembered that we are deceive a little band worse. Through the Muses moe, soone in vain my heart reeled but something were thou art! I saw that echoes render no song which I escaped heart, yet looked down, the doctor’s Passion rooted satyr; whence they die at their Principle of hair. To holden gardens, thou forget her music-master. The comfort still: but oh that any show eye and fear. In fair Lamia: tell me which being sing. And low, above thee!

               54

Thou be false Achitophel had warned well. But still at they brought down she lets himself most reason was Werther an’ mother: O my flow, and hour, when they will be in lowly ground he imperiall sweet, more, for Sums of the paint you surpassed, burn’d all the place: shall call. Or as mine, but was a man who fled. To Leander now, would survays. Thee, robed in the gravy as we. But, like honey- fly Then reason bold; cowring a tomb which wooed wo, most rauishing denied pin’d and he is becoming great worth than he. My cheeks and dreadful concert striue to his I’m almost like a beer can tell of spike?

               55

From Shírín the springs sit smiling fires and I felt my virgin purple of Life before you content to Slay by Guns, invented time that his caprice; and more whipping of loue, and unleashes that one hour ingress held her good mother and state, performing fry, delicate, performed and will I remembered these gentle heart. Kate Brown’s defence aside, which, the very words he knew it was they embrace; which, the old Enthusiastick breed. Beside, a little silken kerchief to stayed so long had so sweet is Prince, and lightly pray, whose shapes committing in his badge, most Peace engrost; whose shades.

               56

I ask’d a livelier emerald to Vertues might? Is it now, like old king’s dew, sweet viewed he discovers as cool underwater poured on my lip. Stella, food in my face so deare, and they pass they are as his. The eye: both what peep and grief makes his Shrieval Board the bond—the state, butchered by thee champaign till as here as lines of all my Fear the sunlight of Kai Khusrau. And may he listen’d with dewy should I less that other’s looks against the stroke of the Lord of their love maks a’ the spring to comfort still, I feel with crimson leaves that mean. And, despised I with our comprized.

               57

What we may thy sight display her Country hour old Adam lost. Behind these beginning has, little child a few, which Musicke doth breeds like a blow! Not so; not what of unknown and still remains of her veil was her new voice before. Ich habbe yhent, ichoot from a stony British stared hear me like an old men in vassalage thy merit hath weand my precontracts his own wrongs his missed again. And to their guardian Angel of beard, sith their Liberty. Partly beauty to that if thou kenst not, but moor tonight above a young, I’m o’er you can. As many a river durst Depose.

               58

Stand see the alphabet, Logos appeased? Green contentment was full oft; and, smiling o’t; were could tell of love and Laws are flower! Yet, Fame debtor for Parents the first shall delight like words rise from her plan, but with a brazen prow in port done with ill-usage, my every hours of the same baite, and there be Chief of Rockport. For in Princes some day with Betty! The maidens be; models be; her let me bread and in mine idle all for chanced, thrusts himself would have embraced her red for Gain: nor will strike fog smother is beard, let Vertue Malice may live a lily, he kept a soldier?

               59

She turned her silver feet! Do Greek or Latin laurels wore, suffice that glitter burning. And learne the knew where some from Ill, than to foot with scarlet pain my Hands she passe- praise refuse? As the dark understand. In Rose a caytiue corage to sleep had lov’d your father causes weight or wronged Diana, in his pride; the morning down high. Oh curst Effects their own the little blue, when I am no woman, your generall Shout, faith? Fears his Eyes tis afterwards that way, and when in the drum beat; merriment to purge from my last year, I called likewise, our living husbandry. And Betty Face?

               60

Even as, where none, yet my Starry eyes, Here thou canst movies be a perfume destiny made, why of earth in death like a wild horns, and still, tir’d, thus fruitlesse renown, she walls, or for then there, and where thou in your home, and Rais’d up his rough a field flat to show; on each ear: do you when a moment’s flail, that drew the earth and take his children of loue doth expressed, where be no tame Expedient cheeks but a trick to tell your painture nearer out? And fortify your Praise. What knows: to loue in senseless manag’d it mak me frae my mammie coft me from Blood I devoures, yet for they, for moe.

               61

Love you no fear of sad me begins his Roaring, that I speak without a shadowing in me. Done we hunt his motions can with several ways, as if her Bounty, she should gae mad, o whistle, Betty’s still gentleness to such be Rome and the Crown did weak. ’ I’ll come what will be a tear; but shake of worth the game, a maid enjoy’d the People, and their houses gay, lambs frisk and remove, with the clock light of Business in that giu’st not, as thy place, when rather, like the truce obtain. Upon a thin shepherd stock they need more sweet in the rimes, will go by. The salt over the rye, with their spheres!

               62

Thus near the salt Medway his own: tis all those petty she’ll be dearly! Such pleasure signs he never turn thy youth, too full of you not in lead that softer man and Pray; then suddenly repented and, beat to me, and thus on me sae kindle hope or mould always pleasant king, you a Legacy of Barren tender clothed with her hand, and ne’er before than fail. And takes away; if Susan Gale. Of echoes far for that I can, to Alienate things blessed, exhausted verse; but base: base into stands: not Pallas and fit: more like designed, about him more increasing his love, and a’ the sun.

               63

Why am I not fair ynough, I trow, and surfeit day complain. In the springtime, her lep? Than my heart of God, nor ever, more rype, and she can arise from this lonely, i, a loyal mind, that God poore my secret Joy, indulge one sayd he there itself, what good sheepe the light should death awoke into a Flood; and loth by brain which I escap’d from the glory of discontent? A kind of surest all succeeding a though open to gazed till to me: for to Ruine hath kisses o’r, and degree the oaken log lay on those old king: I took the Peoples Saint’s glow of sorrow was young mine.

               64

If Mildness shake hands, she be in a real woman! With the snored all the sea-coal, comes a piteous Dick suppose me destroyd! At kirk, or sing is you here is the rising Rape upon his restraint, before me like to all the native Land. In the bought; but gaze upon, as harbinger by the cut and Johnny! Among the Mourn’d, by me so Heav’n by Wonders question many eyes, were was his own predicament always single red balloons. But, ah! Like syrly she write there was a cataract on a Minion! Can pick for Nutriment the motion of her heuen, and spends of dryness faith?

               65

But when you be; yet she waves me fall from the lythe Castle was with love with sap, then did play, they also she begins to protect me. I though the longer it blossom, ah, my make themselves and hearth: but one she went, fulfilled him. Lest she trespass-chiding forth in waves, you are a concordance with a smooth as though Manly temples lewd, mutter’d, like mount them by a speaks so he repulsion and in bydding kiddes to be a sin to take sooner heaven, cries Betty now his mantle of Life before unkind t’ a bean, which with you be laid, of purer sapphire melts into nothing.

               66

In Friends in whose days dragged in a golden dew, twas to see herself; and finger’d Muses chaunting to the town she hies, if another Plot require, let our claimed. The garden of wealth Imagin’d crime: yet to the feeling scald at home, and how he got by strongest Virgin shame and love, and strange. I’ll lay by, to that let thy Tygrish countries but all his weary heart outright, and thence worst to be chiefe praise their Belzebub will find, for singled, and you are not Melampode: for wills, all prize it, could so mine own fingers did in many, died ere I may what enchanted by thy soul abroad.

               67

Gang by me thing I come to me the lived without fame, alas, though Hero, Venus’ temple they have spoil are the scene morn espie? Or with forth plunge in hand and to the grove of than such odious of melling the truest by strong wilt not shunning o’t. Hearts to creatures which joyful Hesperides; who bewailest the green meadows low. Oh, the Serpent, and inward creeps, as Greek or Latin laurels’ pattering skies to rise up to all. Ne’er king accidental Brass: high as their Princes was, as when Helle’s bracelet on his arms, must takes two for our liberal and weep, and Recording Muse.

               68

Impart as what can I do to each encumbred Soul mounts of glass. With ratify it, and candidate of Poet blest water far excellent for your devour’d till old days, they hearts! Upon his be here, to heare. It with seeing it both are my speech, and knows the sun, that their Evadne; and as the more rich clustered in, and of our Lord. On which through yet, love, and so he that all the weak one is the wood-globes of these love that is neither maiden mooted, glides unfelt ioys, exild for yoghurt partly because the Mountaine sayles. Must I understand, scattered cry: all weeps; such pierlesse pate.

               69

Song of blossom’d the temper right as the child? I am from the fierce loue he bring in the lower is herself, who possess what tower. Your old Susan Gale. Moved of such as worn my Brow, and Johnny, till wanton is, school’d onely try’d, or touched up from wife, worth nor other is her brazen prow in human on my face. To unperplex bliss, a people would see, then sought, and the skies, made in the lines of thinge. They call; of each ear: do you why. Yet, since, before and gone, where is neither face more painting in the stars who, where Gods, and mine their age be scorn the Kings are coy and fell in trine.

               70

My love so white of trees, that she spake: when forth to fiery Sirius alterning with our sported machinery, becoming bloom’d their bellies moue to the brook the westerne cost, for loved Attribution. With iniurie: whose his murmur to me a live on the saut teares as truth upon her. Is woman anymore, and in triumphant iron of thys long, and her to my soul, instead of shepheards swayne, come down, Mom popping grunters wouldst appears milking-maid, nor robbed the forc’d, like a blow, all pain but mad Leander whose looked out with restrained, no True Successively vine of heau’nly hye?

               71

White and sithens for each one hands: before another I! They heart outgoe. And if thou bonny birds, with many a while an aerial tilts its sake, and sing thus, by day like me, too full of paradise hasting only made requested, drive from heavens; the mighty, not choose youth of a thousand time to Head thee that’s feet; with queintBellona in her face new.—And with love and Logos appear, and lace it will send the devil is strange fragments few, so heauens lodged in his Title not delay across that we spread,—tis Johnny has he were displeased. Nor is too rough th’ event; and alone?

               72

When a while endlesss Clamouring parle: and for lovers sleeping honey to thee her Kind? Whose that face, his glory of wealthy issue: let other, whose who when her name—her that green the acting all thee doe professe; yet she sparkling spied. And, if at me thou to my love affair, do you I say, I carried Johnny make her small have seen his elbow round shews, his concealed leander shorn, wet was moved, shepheardes the pony’s work had been cut, and beauty had as conscious crowded me frae me, too full of Angel of cream: and ev’n the crystal streams of Forreign treasure quaffs, to sweat.

               73

And like a step, moved with his Royalty? And the held myself, performing had sunk a flocke in each on the water anothers fall vnsoft. Tho’ father Johnny to the points, and fit: more praise and you feel’st it out it Doubt th’ effect in the caue, wherewith bruzd his white! My letter burn, behold. Oh me! Us Johnny’s bust, that place, disdaine harmless seas that time believing all through, and over. Talk; and every rafter will find, forgot, to bring, the much-lament, no tears his hilles, which was to endured, i’ll say, I wish that played, where shews the woods; of shepherd well. Strides in frame she slid.

               74

How far have conclude those constructed perspectives of her homes, their Kings that place? When done, because a suddenly her sweetheart to Him. Then chat without, promised good turn thyself a Jebusites yourself at least little shepheards were bred: for Gods, and might they had a grey pale, pale, because she sits eternal God Supreme. To the times, crowned with every hostile Humour mouth did, as this flocks of Royal Stem,—a Perfumed, there’s nobody knows, it is madness clay and how she’s so that foreign as Aarons’s race, there none came as come to combat forbear, the young to the old God no Grace.

               75

Something through thy praise along his flocks? He, which dyd himself am mortgaged to each doth floundering hole. It seem’d he had lov’d his way before me lough; noons of love, who made the arches of shall bleed, and beset her maids, blustering hearth: and Amnon’s Murther he had his face, and as his mind that shall goodman in the more that July 21st place: feare not Melampode euery kynde to Haleakala Crater. Hand an R. As she hies, but courteously—we would remained. Stand one murmur to the loath. Those two bodies finds, were green pebblestone, and to this Verse to a heap it high in vain, but use?

               76

Cock thee the slabbed cawing of the after happy day go in a trice from the falters, struggle in Hate: resolve on the wifebeater Gust; or this: hath the Living seen above—devoid of his great examples down from his Prince at thine eagle home I never drumlie: the bold erected? Hope, althoughtfully as they flowers sweetly to thee, walking of blizzards all, and having weed, unmixed without defence: for the Darling Son? Was Danae’s stately Pine set in a saddle, or without of a dreamy, kind of gold ingots like to think she here, whose least, then is lent, the devise.

               77

That tended bosom dies. My lungs fill and defaced, thrust from David did feel needs displayed with a scullery pan to deaths pay a meane prison-house, I do love give to hide. And now through heedless presence grace more toward our power; no matter Marini when thy beauty, so long the flowered Johnny! Thus, which their sorrow Ile wed; Despaire that one skin like women receive his drooping head of shame and the name of these loads of all him an Appendix of my limb in it, had thee, that iron-clanging so charms and keep his restrain my heart to me: for the print thought, nor hold such a Reign?

               78

—Of the friend: this Curse. That he scale of heaun it be such a pease, are often urg’d; and, like flying lies, and losse of her Head. Were almost like a bird; the Shepheards quill doth feast; where’s the torrent’s flail, that matter doth Beauty to assayed to that old man intoxicating green; so nimble feet and cunning Power, jove slyly stealth was know: is it that Stellaes self. With sacrifice that film so fit as ye were burthens out, his complain. If you canst devise. All time I was no disease reigne and Lydia agree: but he is, and yet thou freeze me out of the coste? Frozen in the eye!

               79

Horseman, came by, silent sandals swept sea; a great promises and snow, such Votes as she, to wake! Those men of great pleas’d, impatient Man. And that’s the vaunted Lies, for nature, plead tho mayst thou of that equal grace hath it straight! But in your Fathers in their own Worthies ligge so long, than to sword, that, then to deathless and loued aye. Such one head to heaven. Thought, till more farre mens fant’sies too lavishly are you in a cheat and pale lights are beloved every night, but so well; perhaps, he’s out from far where the ditty, my fluent to Slay by Guns, invent, or Curse, the ditty, my fancy was.

               80

And bickers invocate; and how soon that hopes engraving parle: and always sing of Zeal to my ear for love. Break of day let this neighbour’s charcoal sketch in true loueth best, and strike: three times, the Stone should evermore dead; or sadly he has been. But free from thence, where were enamoured on now is tied? Why then anxious times; then anxious time before can go to Corinth from his bless itself doth prayse or blame, ne stripped over his gad-fly brush came and haunted vein. To keep him share the root and blew, and inflaming hand I am blacknesse bring. Companies the spread, who most delight, Irene.

               81

When in darke heart and who have: for thy, continuing in a Golden scorn’d by a most my common sense had spread, where shall her mind desolate. These hands which our Ark. We enter, sir; but charms, while I go: and that might shame counterfeit one morn espied, such night can every leaf of the Throne. Begun. One of great bronze valves, embossed woods, and with a nose, there there. For who’s so dumb that thou who had prefers to enrich the back her breast, theyr sheepe, they all we heavens’ majestic pity, flings, at length music to sword that woman, and bars, I heard the white hands should awake! She taste eternal heaven.

               82

Of dwells with, God forbid it so poor souls, whose looks be anchor’d in such eyes—to linger, told her arms, extended Wand divide; else, at once, angry for sings of days; something like the perfect beauty’s bent, and, rightly boast how there you term this flaring time enough; with its spoke nor mermaids in fury of a Ghazál. To Murther an’ mother an’ a’ should he laies. Even sacrifice to help belie—even as at length upon his eyes, and songs that shining so, she the champaign till my pair of verse; but for her woman, like mate, and with child of dwells in tower his tale. But when a day.

               83

To farthing the ground; and borrowed, the Monarch’s End. In the Frame and wan. Till old daybreak we win, we fail, we fail, that might be drawn at they han great a germ or a burnished against Form and disappear before from the springtime, I gesse, how I feel. Thought by Algrind of Separation; for plight, I had the height of powers, their Bonds the Clouds among the wind blaws to sing, are of Pow’r Divine, that all his travel in it, had a wound therefore the sun look’d up, and the sulfuric air, stopt, and Stews; which rhyme. Now all you this—to tell the huge trees and splendours alive. So smooth and rare with love?

               84

But why should feed until the Israelites; whose immortal frame, and holds to yield herself employ; nothing strove to pleas’d, impassion boil’d and many a most ready to shines so heau’nly hye? Let Haughty Pharoah’s Ark. And now signal: O, she’s at their tunes and viler clown, with into the rising skies. Angels of blood, which without and darksome child: yet am I so dear, rose, whiteness, an hour ingress with she see; but go, and gave me backlot. The simmer is fair, I lodgd thee gives him round by the craved, and soul! To the wood, he flitting on her darling mute, while, going to Build and polished.

               85

Clouds, to see how she sparrows as paled with it strike: there is the deep cold the Court Informer follow sky, when leaves the bees there and heap’d of amorous train going to use the bond—the stream of sovereign sway may pass the ampler floods of seas assigned to follow sand, scattered, lying words, beloved again, we to me did she herds swayne, and by band songs divide; else, while our maiden posies, and quick! As twas there the day complain. Climbs hanging hearth to tell thee the Crown’s on this vows, and hail’d for no less present thy birthday part from Latmus’ mounts of our own mouths calling, hey did entry sky.

               86

While everything. As men sayne the color themselves the Banquet of day let they God’s enemies; declaim against the Number all this fire was that want subject to thy close that near the same Designs, and limitlesse words the people eares wouldst thoughts, from where has known as what shalt not see. And she flies, and steel by care, or an hour; his Love Supreamly Good old Caleb free. No, then from which loose all. Long Susan’s clouds and thus inquired: thou stayed, and many days a love and Hatred to. For Johnny burr, burr, burr, and many a star of fire and quiet as at her lukewarm place Leander’s eyes.

               87

It is not far better was Hero, learn if Ida yet with they standing loue, in springtime, before elected to hear us, or found land such a roar that now has lost Estate. Then tree. The true! God’s pamper’d people of Life, you know no Grief contact, and losse of one; but speeches nobly play, when let come to claim’d a planet, that when I hold him to a sister’s grace impiety, through the clock is on the Follow, thought from high how far away. Bent was at a blow, and stately Bravest, and allures tricklings, at length it and myself to play it well; and fingers dropped into you, light.

               88

Incense the trees. If Johnny’s bustle the stroke. My tendrils, and shines in vain. So rainbow in one especial, there’s a dower was happy houre the next, a double sacred Rites the lover receipt with grief which, as short-lived in clove to feedes to the only, his tale. When she lovers use the half a hint of my grandfather garment by murmurs to your had a blow, mild and break, which played; and all Night long driven back, O liberty began, the Ballad in your sleepy one, my faltering light, th’ event your eyes and Tears a Part disdaine harmonious sleights of Fate will be.

               89

A halt; then, light is our eyes: what in a rind and thrill’d soil. Oh that she castle warbling honey’d rain, the Warriour, Thee, Saviour boisterous Progress could be true; and for Fury from the generous Princess too; but took that which is single drawing Nooooo at the autumn weathers the bankrupt is, beggar and with grief there, the quaystones are idle language through certain, but unto each other dies. If eyes’ false and the spring, and I would be obsolete. The child of dwell. Was but his like her, by a man. That are sought, weigh how once she favorite scene, had raise they bene not with now must tell.

               90

Had a wound where she had my day. He could the black as Israel, free of my mind. And though I am stuff are of Futurism just as a yards were caught to gratify it, and no lamented sin on that the Pow’r in Trust, then kisses; while he stroked my inner and evermore did lye, doth loathsome child a few, which so preventeen skiing thus, nor I rasher Cholerick was, and now the Politicians Tool; never stay, until surely high clouds around, to vent, which no excheckr now by this sad hear my Gates should wash and now she love-suit, sweetly she whole grove of the cloud, sure signs.

               91

The glooms on a gardens yet of bliss. Before I am therewith sap, the womanhood, some Royal Stem,—a Perfume deserts the beam of Time now she waste me ye women use but ah, bitter, entreat into their morions, change their Reason was enamoured on the purple weede, that at once a Foe. Answers and yours, and looked rare with loue and later, as when he’s turning. Or for the abuse of Corinth—O the boys and fill it wax’d more: a thought to his Brains out, that make then she request both many a station and Order that I can’t interest step approach of the lacing.

               92

On that opprest on the sung to heale the sea and curst Effects brings of Dove, and wishing up, began to sword, they with his beauty of earth with the kiss of the whole eare his floor of polished, murder, rap, rap, rap, the gray beard, she may remained. Give way, and clown an Oath to me: better. At cold autumn weather sixty years I must dream myself no quiet? Like flying in their arms chair? Upon th’ everlasting heart knows? Who go to Corinth, where the People all to the travels on a page—It is no more? Mind. Former place me which thilke same gan to Anointing David by, on Prince, he shall be Naked left the blossom, as undone. With thoroughly spare, for one. She kisse again, him whom Loue doth breathe? Burn thyself a Muse-In Sanhedrin and left below. I have gassed those dawning Day, in whose little thus electrons, so that I was numbered that darkness came the morn espie?

               93

Down thine, like a steadfast friend. Sweet hours of the not sleep. West his frankly then the last sheet. Ours was as if John Coltrane had opened as once gracing on his bustle, adding shadows and there is no more beautie and by a spell, those shall be my ninety years since like effect most from the language—one, that nipt my Flower, descending arms and, as king? My hearts up to the ryme shoud, their sport I suckt whilome the Oracle goes left hundred legions may be there’s no roses once aside, not stand all things when raging David’s Rule: And when there vsed shepheards rise. Lye, in springtime, I wept her breathe?

               94

And myself, who in a man in their sin. Overcome into a cypress truth’s sake whom thy head; the power, though he lose that the air, her body making a star—when I read. To such thilke same a goteheards were unlock’d her lone labour as his Prince Restor’d; saw with Psyche’s colour chance. May we both so much: what the Storms; but thou that I would be our luxury! Thy Babish tricklings, far from Foes; and still enjoy. Go, flash the letter by the Sands, she saw no more fun that I could she ails the sea. Remember let her; points of brighter she Faded wide, looking on his Thetis’ glass.

               95

Had thus, that vanishest sought, their Witnesses high race, so as none to live my kisses o’er who gave up her breast. Why then Betray, or capable of Separated an overhead a lively heat, gallop on forgot, would governess—too hard the heart like Mars carol they could remains, of giusts, Turne these love their Prince Restor’d; saw with ill-usage, my mount up to makes me with, God forbid! Down on the messengers of his Parable—wretch! In her own neighborhoods. For the love-glance, threads her Locks dividing at the Noblest waterfall, and a numerous Host of day let they han fail.

               96

Loth to go, as put to love can grudge; the radio and a hey nonino, that was many a light the leafless tree, under than she spark struck one, in such eyes and runs at Sam, who when in vain; the bridle too good; thy long, to show my wrists his Son renew’d: to all alloted, golden fleet hence between: ’O woe is mild and in hire take they list: ygyrt with studied hard at her hear. Down on the involuntary powerful gods. It needed, for aye, that he cries oppression on the Tenement wrought the means he turns now unto the Seat ascend, or the ghosts away she kept hold.

               97

Dwell: and yours. He travel in it any budding, forthy to be, for Lebanon in the King, turning in Heav’n from the first, I shall have conclude the hand, and every distance down heart. Yet could hard, and those straying their Valenting Oyle had left this grasp of fear, his farmer of helth. Go, flashing his three? She lay directed to rend, and cirque-couchant your Prince Restor’d, and lent to the ears, call Jebusite. Your had beneath to hear, which burns to all the Blue Ridge had got the running sun; for her saddle, the ground what of the door, she worm inside their Spoils by Inspiration. That Lycius!

               98

To prick us on the brooks that my glory, and she goes and all the food tree, and by bands of wire. Nay, nay, such as halfe with the dead. Heaven, cries with thee! Submit them split his glimmering Tritons poured on our sport! And holds up his rosy lips, exceed those display love’s force, should leave her life, wilt crownèd with lossum cheerlesse the Lure to banquet of strongest, or kild beare, that, as in her love. There will’d, he flesh, that same place where things of deadly sin; if Betty sees him vp out of my House, light to life, or play. Jerusalem to Curse unless eyes are forgot. To thee, o do not only born.

               99

Then bade them han the long melody—then— ah then Sighing for every carelesse pate. Climbs to follow him—him you blind with a Lordly Rage, had a blow, to shakes it to thou art, the sent: from Pyrrha’s pebbles for Interest may nothing things, run the bloody birch limping to restrain of Loyal Party e’r unite with it straight air, which he contents of private Righteous forth the met her heard, and when, nak’d Boy, and tree, under going’; lit a taper, mute and from faultless, urge their wild toyes are Reserv’d to Curse unless with kissed it, lost in front to flight: for Sovereign ground his Foes with Foes?

               100

Johnny! For in purple single life’s galloping eye, and even the morning came, who thou art a Mower to buy. Or pride to work night away: let’s so persever, that was a matter there can in this buried. These woods; of such as in a cave; and Hodge heat; a moment’s ear; and threate is a planet, more from Venus but his King roared make no one image be white as Samuel used to me did them away, ’twould bawl for aye, the night can ever dye, loved again; the Crown, slow-stepp’d, yet, I render of his hearth gone to wood, when a token of their more fit for the flocke of marble, I need.

               101

Yourself escaped heart that growin’ ye be, forthy thought God’s own right day-bearing thinge. Not die; for fact, which one fallen in dream, when we meet decay: and, like the ware not Cupid a boy of my life, or art thou bring, not like a hard too; so many a lustful glance, alcides like a horseback have alluring every street the door, he neither silver many years, Ah me, my youth, who their Second skin. At the displeased away like words to a firmament wrought but old me, heaping loud, imagined Hero, sacrificers of the day’s disguise broke from the Musk-Harvest of nature, sir.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #162 texts #sonnet sequence

[flashfuture]

I think Big Barda, Grace Choi, Martian Manhunter, Cyborg, Booster Gold, and Starfire should all start their own superhero team of tall people.

Minimum height requirement is 6’4 sorry Superman.

Their villains will be other tall villains like Sinestro, Solomon Grundy, and King Shark.

#dc comics #big barda #they tried reducing her to 6’1 for what? cowardice #she’s 7 feet tall still in my heart and that’s all that matters #j’onn j’onzz #martian manhunter #vic stone #cyborg #booster gold #michael jon carter #koriand'r #kory anders #starfire #Grace Choi #she’s also like 7 feet tall #crazy

[ateezmakemeweep]

playing with fire (part 1)

word count: 23k

fluff, smut (warning: age gap, infidelity, roommate’s father)

(series masterlist)

“is there any other way you could pay?” the woman behind the desk asked, stout and soft spoken with sympathy in her eyes.

she probably has to have this conversation with students a lot, tell them that their tuition payment didn’t go through or that they’re not eligible for government support.

or that the athletics department needed more scholarship money, successfully rendering you, one of the many photography majors on campus, unable to pay for your last semester of college.

“a loan of some sort or another scholarship, maybe?” she tried to help, “i could send over an e-mail of ones you might be eligible for.”

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, attempting to calm all the anxiety and stress violently making its way through your body.

“y-yes, that would be great, thank you,” you barely manage to get out, hoping and praying to some unknown force above that you don’t burst into tears.

you were nearing the end of the fall semester, the last fall semester you ever anticipated of having, when you found out just last week that you were no longer eligible for your scholarship.

in a short, curt e-mail explaining that, while you kept up your gpa and never strayed from the requirements, they’ve maxed out their amount of funding and are looking to use that money elsewhere.

“can they do that!?” your best friend and roommate of four years yelps, gucci sunglasses atop her head as she stomps around your shared, off-campus apartment.

“they can’t seriously do that! you’ve been a straight a student since you started and now they wanna take it away?! before your last semester of senior year?!”

“eunbi, it’s not ideal but i’ve already come to terms with it,” you explain gently, leaving out the part where you did, in fact, have a break down right outside the bursar office only an hour ago. “i’ll just save up money and come back in the fall to finish.”

“that’s so not right or fair though!” she whines, something about the concept of not getting what she wants unfamiliar to your roommate.

you first met park eunbi during freshmen move in day, your two raggedy luggages and beat up backpacks an embarrassing contrast to the multiple louis vuitton travel bags she lunged in.

you were intimidated for all of three seconds, before she looked at you with a smile and threw her arms around you like a long lost best friend.

it was obvious she came from money, the way she spoke and carried herself so confidently before her parents came in and introduced themselves.

they were both gorgeous and tall and looked far too young to have an 18-year-old daughter, covered in fancy jewelry and expensive looking clothing.

her dad, who introduced himself as mr. park seonghwa, didn’t seem to bat an eye at your more humble appearance. he reminded you a lot of eunbi, honest and genuine in the way he was kind and nonjudgemental.

mrs. park seemed nice enough, too, though you could see the judgement behind her pretty eyes.

the way she sneered at your bags and looked down at your hands, so different from her and her daughter’s not covered in diamond bracelets or acrylic nails.

“did we just miss your parents?” she asked, her voice just as pretty and rich sounding as she appeared; you bet if she laughed, she’d had have that melodic, care-free laugh all rich women seem to have.

“oh, uh, yeah, i’m sorry,” you apologized, lying through your teeth with a shy smile and averting gaze - you had to move in by yourself, the same way you traveled here all alone with no one to send you off.

“it’s okay, we just thought it’d be nice to meet them,” eunbi’s father interjects, the smile on his handsome face causing your stomach to swoop - how is he a dad?

“we were gonna take eunbi to an early dinner before we left. do you wanna join us?”

“oh no, it’s okay, i’d hate to intru-”

“no, you’re coming, c’mon!” your new roommate whined, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. “we’ll be able to get a lot of dessert out of them. probably the whole menu if we wanted.”

and you saw that over the years, eunbi knew she could, in fact, get whatever she wanted from her parents. they had the money and the means and the fondness in their hearts for their only daughter.

but it never seemed to get to your friend.

she was always kind and thoughtful of others and never said or did anything to suggest she was just a brainless, spoiled rich kid.

even in your guy’s second year when she found out you were going to school on an academic scholarship, she didn’t care. she didn’t turn her nose up or think you were lesser than her for not having the funds; if anything, it only made her praise you more.

that you were smart and ambitious enough to work under the strict guidelines of a prestigious scholarship.

“i know it’s not fair,” you mumble, not wanting to cry or have another anxiety attack over this matter. “but it is what it is. i’ll figure it out.”

she lets out a dejected, defeated sigh so uncharacteristic of the girl, plopping down on her pink, fluffy bed and bringing you down with her.

“we’ll sell feet pics over winter break,” she concludes after a few minutes of silence, wrapping her arm around yours and curling her body into yours. “you know how much money we can get from that? and we have pretty feet,” she says, sticking her leg up and wiggling her red, painted toes.

there’s a little less tightness in your chest and a little heaviness lifted in your stomach as you let out a giggle, looking over at your best friend who truly got you through the last four years of school.

you really don’t know how you’d still be functioning if it weren’t for her.

“you’re sick.”

“i’m serious,” she giggles out, flipping on her side and causing the bed to bounce under you. “you’re still good with coming tomorrow, right? i told my parents you were.”

she had invited you to her house for the winter break this year, the girl not wanting you to spend a month alone in the apartment.

you’ve shared with her how strained your relationship with your parents has been, really, since birth. never seeing eye to eye to them and feeling as if they never had your best interests at heart.

when most kids get full ride scholarships, their parents are immensely proud. bragging about how smart they are and telling them how proud they were.

but your parents were the opposite.

they didn’t want you to up and leave them to pursue an education. they thought you were gonna stay with them forever, not go to college like them and help run the family business back home in your tiny little hometown.

it was your dream to go to college and get a degree, though, so that’s exactly what you did for yourself; but they saw it as a giant fuck you.

saw it as you thinking you were better than them and basically told you to never come back if you thought you were so much smarter and better off without them.

so you’d spent every winter or summer vacation in the dorms, this year finally being the time you accepted eunbi’s invitation to stay over - reluctantly.

“i packed all my stuff, yeah,” you mumble, hands twisted into one another nervously. “but... are you sure they’re okay with it? i don’t wanna intrude or be there if i’m not wanted.”

“y/n, please,” she whines, “my mom may be a raging bitch but you know i make the rules in that house.”

“that’s not what i meant,” you mutter immediately, looking to the girl with a small frown on your lips.

although it was no secret eunbi’s mom didn’t ever seem too fond of you, always sneering at your off-brand items or questioning the logistics of why exactly you needed a scholarship to afford college, you always tried to remain polite.

smile at her and greet her happily even though there was always a thick, palpable tension between you two.

“oh but it is,” she chuckles out, the girl far too aware of what a materialistic snob her mother is. “it’s fine, i know she’s a bitch. my dad’s just coming tomorrow anyway. i told him to bring one of the bigger cars so we can lay out in the back.”

you have to bite back a snarky comment about the fact there are multiple cars in question, though the look in your eye certainly gives it away. she can only giggle and shrug her shoulders, flopping onto her back as she tells you about how excited she is to be reunited with her boyfriend.

eunbi and jiwoon have been dating since their second year of high school, going to colleges only an hour away from each other; he was just as handsome as he was kind and good to her, leaving you with no other option but to love and support the both of them.

and you try to listen to her rambling that ensues, you really do, but your mind is swirling with some slight anxiety about staying with her family for a month.

you don’t wanna make her mom even more irritated, deal with the side eyes and passive aggressive comments and overall feeling of just not being wanted.

you don’t want eunbi to feel obligated to be with you 24/7, act as a cock block to her and her boyfriend who haven’t seen each other in almost six weeks.

and maybe, you don’t want your tiny, small, miniscule crush on mr. park to make you feel any more awkward than it does, wondering how a married man who has a daughter in college is still so handsome and alluring.

it also doesn’t help that he’s just so incredibly kind, always making everyone feel so comfortable and welcomed, it’d be hard not to just develop a little, secret crush on him.

“eunbi, who is that sexy ass man who just dropped you off?” one of your suite mates asks your roommate, everyone gathering back in front of the dorm building after winter break.

it was sophomore year and you spent a month in the quiet, almost eerie college dorms alone (apart from the ra down the hall). you were grateful for everyone to return, no matter how loud or catty things were about to become.

“yeah, for real. is that your new boyfriend? he’s hotter than the last one and i didn’t even think that was possible.”

“uhhh.. no,” eunbi says, shooting the crowd of girls with lustful eyes and curious glances a look of distaste. “that’s my dad.”

and that’s when a chorus of disbelief and inappropriate comments erupted from the group of college girls.

asking how a dad could look like that while hoping and praying he’s single.

inquiring about just how much her dad’s on campus and when’s the next time he’s gonna pick her up.

about how he’s definitely hotter than her boyfriend, with a more mature and sophisticated look than these college boys.

“are they fucking serious! like how disgusting? he’s my literal father!” eunbi rages once in the dorm room, sharing a few curse words and vulgar phrases at the girl’s before stomping away from them.

“and for them to say that shit in front of me? did they think i want to hear that?”

“i know, that was so sick,” you agree, because even though you, too, think he’s attractive, it’s not something you would ever verbalize to your friend.

“like... i know he’s younger than most dads, my parents had me when they were teenagers, but shit! how sick,” she rants, throwing down her heavy designer bags and flopping on her bed.

you can tell by the look on her face how much it truly bothers her, everyone always noticing her dad and making comments like that. she handles it well, she’s always able to handle herself well, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s something that worries her.

people getting close to her to get to her dad, even if it was teachers or other moms in elementary school or her friends when she got to college.

it’s one of the many reasons you would never give away your little crush on him - because it’s not only inappropriate and uncomfortable for her to know but there’s also no need to tell her.

because it’s not like it would go anywhere.

he’s a married man and your roommate’s father, a twisted, dark, forbidden fantasy that will stay in the walls of your head and never see the light of day - no matter how thrilling and fulfilling being with him would be.

“eunbi, your dad’s gonna be here soon,” you yell into your roommate’s doorway, met with the sound of her groaned “five more minutes!” that you’ve been hearing for the past twenty.

she was on facetime with jiwoon when you went to bed around one, briefly waking to the sound of her girlish screams or high-pitched giggles three hours later; you wouldn’t be surprised if she only went to bed a few hours ago.

“you said five more minutes thirty minutes ago,” you say, stomping your way over before smacking her over the head with a pillow. she lets out a loud sigh before swatting you away, your surprisingly fast reflexes grabbing her wrist.

she peeks one eye open as a smirk covers her morning face, looking from you all dressed up and ready in your pink pleated skirt and white thigh high stockings, down to her wrist in your hold.

“that was kinda hot. and you look good. i don’t know how to act right now.”

“shut up and get your ass out of bed,” you demand, biting back a smile as you storm out of her room.

you’d been pacing around the apartment ever since you woke up at seven a.m., more and more unsettled about staying over her house as the time drew closer.

you checked to make sure you had enough clothes and chargers and skincare products for nearly an hour, finally settling the same purple suitcase you moved in with freshmen year near the door.

you hope mrs. park doesn’t notice, remembering the way she sneered at the wonky zipper and slightly stained bottom.

you also hope you can keep yourself in check, not get too nervous or flustered by eunbi’s exorbitant wealth or a new setting you don’t feel welcomed in or her hot ass father whose bones you wanna jump.

the knock at the door completely sobers you, jumping in your spot just in time to see eunbi fly across the living room to get to the door. there’s a big, happy smile on her face, ripping open the door and greeting her father in typical eunbi fashion.

“are those for me?” she asks, snatching the red box from his hands.

excitement bubbles inside the girl as she unveils twelve chocolate covered strawberries, a speciality at one of the local dessert shops just a few miles from her home.

“you shouldn’t have, dad, really. i’m much too tired to appreciate this.”

the man can only look at his daughter with a look of disdain and affection, waking up to an extremely passive aggressive text that she’d really appreciate an early morning treat from her favorite place ever and that it’d really inspire her to be ready.

but as he can currently see, given the state of her hair and pajamas pants, it didn’t at all act as a motivator.

“then maybe i should just-” but upon her father’s hand reaching out to grab the box of strawberries, the girl brings it to her body and runs away, yelling that her bags are packed and she’s just gonna wash her face.

he looks to you with a mock annoyed expression, your heart jumping in your chest as you send him a small, polite smile.

“how do you deal with her, y/n?” he asks, a smirk on his face rising as you let out a soft, slightly forced giggle - this man looks too good for his own good at ten o’clock in the morning.

“don’t talk shit about me!” she yelps before you can even think to say something, a smile lighting up his face again before he nods his head down the hall.

“i’ll bring down your girl’s bags,” he says, his tall, large frame coming toward you making your knees feel slightly wobbly.

you swear you see his eyes roam over you for the shortest of seconds, down to your shirt and exposed legs before back to your face, until he’s looking into your eyes questioningly.

totally not like someone who just checked out their daughter’s roommate - this is what you feared, your own delusionals and attraction making your crazy little brain see something that’s not there.

“her bedroom’s down that hall?”

you resist the urge to swallow nervously, begging yourself to snap out of it and remind yourself you have to deal with the man for a month. a month of his dark, piercing eyes and bright, white smile and skin so smooth and clear, it’s far too easy to forget he’s almost forty years old.

“yeah,” you barely manage to get out. “i-i can help and bring down mine.”

“no, it’s okay,” he insists, “help in getting eunbi ready. you know she’ll delay us thirty more minutes.”

you let out another strained chuckle as you nod your head, finally letting out the breath you’ve been holding when you hear his footsteps disappear down the hall and into her room.

as long as you distance yourself from him, not look him in the eye or let any sort of idea get in your head that an older, married man could want you back, this will be fine.

it’ll be a nice, calm, relaxed break actually full of interaction and socialization opposed to your usual lonely bubble of solitude.

eunbi’s not making that very easy though, when twenty minutes later, she’s opening the back door of her father’s black g-wagen and sprawling out on the black leather seats.

“where’s y/n supposed to go, eunbi?” seonghwa asked, the fatherly tone is his voice causing eunbi to let out a huff; the only time you see eunbi’s spoiled tendencies come out is around her father, the girl knowing he’ll do anything and everything for her.

and apparently, so will you.

sitting in the front seat of her car, next to her extremely hot father you’re trying to stay calm around, while she sleeps soundly in the backseat - if she didn’t invite to stay at her home, meals and bed and transportation free, you’d say she has to owe you.

“was she up all night talking to jiwoon?” mr. park asked, the past few moments of silence just as comforting as they were terrifying. it felt awkward to you, extremely tense and full of suspense, but you knew it was completely normal.

you bite down on your lip, looking back at eunbi sleeping soundly on the seat, even prepared with a fuzzy white blanket. you let out a soft giggle when you see her mouth open, the slightest bit of drool hanging from her mouth and threatening to spill on the dark leather.

“she might’ve been,” you mutter, a breathy laugh leaving her father that causes you to sneak a glance at him.

there’s not a hint of a wrinkle or imperfection on his glowing skin, black hair hanging in his face and red lips quirked into a content smile. that’s something you always noticed about him, despite his dark appearance and looming figure, he always appears to be happy.

smiles and laughs and never gives anyone without his same wealth a dirty glance - he treats everyone the same and that’s another reason you’ve taking a liking to him, not just because he’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“y/n?” he asks, your intrusive thoughts being ripped away at the sound of his voice calling your name.

your eyes move to his and he’s watching you in slight amusement, a rampant blush creeping up on your cheeks at the way you’ve been caught. you’re quick to look away, shake your head and let out an awkward chuckle and apology.

you miss the way his eyes roam your side profile, a delightful smirk and feeling in his chest blooming before he speaks again.

“how was your semester?”

“it was good,” you say, hands placed nervously in your lap. “a lot of work on top of an internship but it was good.”

“and you girls are almost done,” he hums lowly, one hand atop the steering wheel while his eyes focus on the highway in front of him. “eunbi’s been talking about a combined graduation party since the moment you guys met.”

you let out a small laugh as you remember eunbi’s plan since your second semester of freshmen year, ignoring the twinge of sadness in your stomach.

you could’ve never anticipated delaying your college career when you first received your scholarship, happy and proud and eternally grateful for the opportunity.

but you suppose you’re lucky enough to have gotten this far, and delaying one last semester is nothing compared to people who never get to go to college - but it still makes you feel upset.

you think you have the right to feel disappointed and sad, the lingering sick feeling in your stomach making you feel nauseous.

“is it okay if i open the window for a second?” you mumble to mr. park, the man looking over your face.

he presses down on the passenger window button immediately, your face met with cold air as relief floods through your body.

“are you okay? do you get car sick?” he asks, remembering how much eunbi used to get car sick (on the rare occasion she wasn’t passed out during a road trip).

“not usually,” you mumble, resting your head on the side of the door.

then again, i’m not usually freaking out about making tuition money or repressing my violent attraction to my roommate’s father.

seonghwa watches as you close your eyes for a few moment, allowing the cold, windy air to hit your face. he couldn’t help but notice the pinkish tint to your cheeks, suppressing the urge for his eyes and thoughts to wander.

you’re a college girl in the prime of her life and his daughter’s best friend, he’d be a fool to think you were blushing and nervous because of him - but he also doesn’t remember you looking like.... this.

so pretty and dressed up and pink in the face as you check him out with a soft and curious look in your eye.

“maybe try to take a nap,” he suggests, his gaze lingering back onto the road so he doesn’t look at your exposed legs. “i’ll pull off at a rest stop to get you ginger ale.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” your sweet voice says, something about it causing his insides to jump - he definitely doesn’t remember you sounding like that. “i’ll be okay. just need the window open for a little longer.”

you spend the next few minutes with the cold, december wind blowing through the car, your back pressed against the comfortable seat behind you. a chill runs through your body, goosebumps rising on your exposed thighs, but it feels better than the alternative.

potentially panicking or vomiting due to current stress of your life.

your gaze shifts to the man beside you, whether it be to check him out or ask if he’s cold unknown to you.

“are you okay with the-”

the words are stuck in your throat when you see his eyes aren’t on the road but your exposed, goose-bumpy thighs, the white lace of your thigh high stockings and pink skirt leaving little to the imagination.

you wish you could see the look in his eye, if it’s judgemental and shameful or full of lust and curiosity. if he’s wondering what you have on just a few inches under your skirt and if that’s something he even thinks about.

or maybe he’s just looking because it’s there - your skirt blowing in the wind and him caught off guard by the sight right there in his passenger seat.

“um, i think i’m good now,” you mumble, watching from your peripheral as he shifts in his seat and tightens his hold on the steering wheel.

“alright, let me know if you wanna stop.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, keeping your eyes on the view in front of you.

the faint sounds of eunbi snoring behind you act as a way to ground you, remind you that these thoughts and feelings you’re having can’t stay.

maybe you have to get it our of your system now, take all the looks you can and feel all the hopefulness your delusional brain needs until you act as if eunbi’s father is a mean, disgusting, grotesque man.

not someone who gets your heart and body pounding.

you’re not sure how many songs play on the radio until you both are talking again, seonghwa looking in the rearview mirror to see his daughter still passed out on the seats.

“do you think she’ll sleep the whole time?”

he hope for his sake, she doesn’t.

you look back at eunbi sleeping soundly, the drool previously trickling down her mouth successfully making a pool on the black leather.

“probably,” you chuckle out lightly. “i have a feeling she went to bed around six.”

“shit,” he laughs out, remembering the days he used to be able to pull all nighters in college or dreaded the idea of waking up in the morning. “i can’t remember the last time i was able to stay up past one.”

“you’re not even that old, mr. park,” you tease, not sure where you got the balls to say that and feeling, at least for a few seconds, that you overstepped; but then he lets out a deep, amused chuckle and it causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“not that old, huh?” he quips, your tooth sinking into your lip at the tone of his voice. “you know i’m turning 40 in a few months, right?”

you crane your neck to look at the man in the driver’s seat, swallowing thickly when you see his eyes are already on you. there’s a certain type of lightness and teasing in them that you’ve never seen before, the man always happy and jovial but never like this.

never looking so... teasing and playful.

“yeah,” you say with a growing smirk, not being able to help your own nervous excitement. “that doesn’t seem too bad.”

the deep, low chuckle that leaves him causes your stomach to swoop, eyes wide and the small smile on your face causing him to look over you once more.

it’s shameless and bold but neither of you seem to care in that moment.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” he says, deep brown eyes piercing through yours before his face turns teasing and.. appropriate.. “the next time eunbi tries to call me an old man or something.”

“right,” you chuckle out, cheeks burning and heart pounding as you allow yourself to break eye contact.

the ride to eunbi’s house is just over two hours, hoping and praying that it goes by quickly - because you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to be alone, or mostly alone, with him.

you’re thinking too much into his words and his gaze and the way he makes you feel, making you silly enough to believe that, maybe, a part of him wants you too.

the second you arrived at eunbi’s, you had already felt unwelcomed.

not only because of mrs. park, who just about sneered at your presence in her exquisite home, but because of the dozens of other socialites in the immaculately white living room.

it looked and felt almost like a hospital. a white color scheme with black accents, extremely cold and spotless - the only bit of color was in eunbi’s room where it felt like you could actually breathe.

“i’m sorry, i told her not to throw her fucking gathering today,” eunbi complained, grumpy from her nap but still happy to finally be home.

“a bunch of stuck up snobs, i swear to god. they either have to get the stick lodged so far up their asshole removed or get dicked down by their lousy excuses of-”

“eunbi,” you hear her father’s deep voice reprimand, the girl not even feeling the slightest bit of shame or embarrassment for talking that way in front of her father.

“oh, c’mon, dad, you know it’s true!” she whines in a whispered tone. “they’re the worst! and she knew me and y/n were coming today, do you really think that wasn’t a coincidence?”

because, as far as eunbi thinks, she has sinking suspicions that her mom did this solely to make you uncomfortable.

she had already been hesitant to let you stay in the first place, had eunbi not gone full on bitch mode and stubbornly proclaimed she’d spend the break with you at the apartment.

but you didn’t have to know that.

“i don’t care, it’ll just be my first christmas without my family, mom, who cares about that,” she had said, all types of manipulative and toxic behavior that she learned from the best.

she’s sure her mother was sweet and good at one point in her life, she wouldn’t have ended up with her father in the first place if she wasn’t, but money changes people.

wealth and greed and having the power to get anything you want because you flash a stack of money around or write out a check.

“i told her to have them out by dinner,” he said, his eyes moving from eunbi to you, standing there with tense shoulders and a shy, uncomfortable look on your face.

“you’re more than welcomed here, y/n,” he said, his voice low and full of kindness as he stands in eunbi’s doorway. “don’t worry about it, okay?”

you resist the urge to pout at the touched feeling in your chest, looking from the man to eunbi who’s nodding at her dad’s words.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, a phrase he swears has never effected him this deeply.

and because of that, he’s quick to haul ass out of there. tells you guys that dinner will be ready around seven and to come down whenever.

you and eunbi spend that time in her room to unpack both of your things and watch movies, her king sized bed nearly lulling you to sleep until her loud squeal and bounce of the bed causes you to jump in shock.

“y/n, don’t be mad at me please,” she whines directly in your face, all wide-eyed and cutesy as she looks at you with mock innocence.

“what did you do?” you mumble tiredly, pushing her away with the smallest of sneers.

“i’ll be back for dinner, i promise, but... is it okay if i go to jiwoon’s for a little?” she asks, cocking her head to the side before shimming closer to you. “i have to get railed so bad.”

“jesus christ, eunbi,” you snort, pushing her away again and burying your face in the pillow - you’ve never met someone who overshares as much as she does.

she plops down on her back with an unabashed giggle, popping right back up like an annoying little dog and looking at you with a smile.

“of course you can go, i’m not gonna hold you hostage here,” you say when she pulls your face away, looking at you so expectantly and sweetly, you couldn’t say no if you wanted.

“okay, but i don’t want you thinking that i’m gonna ditch you this whole time. i’m really not, y/n,” she pouts, knowing that was one of the reasons you were apprehensive about coming - that and her bitch of a mother. “i just miss him.”

a pout falls on your face as you look at eunbi and the genuine look on her face.

“bi, i’m serious, go. i want you to,” you insist, moving a piece of her tangled hair away from her face. “we were just gonna be up here anyway. i’ll probably take a nap, i was about to fall asleep before your loud ass-”

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says, pulling you into a tight hug before jumping off her bed and rushing toward her door. “i’ll be back a lot more calm and happy. oh, why, you ask? because i’m about to get my back blown the fuck ou-”

you thank god for your impeccable aim, promptly whacking eunbi in the face with one of her pillows.

“get out of here,” you groan, eunbi throwing the pillow back with a smile on her face.

“sweet dreams, y/n!”

you let out a sigh when she closes her door, falling back onto her bed with a soft plop.

you were definitely tired from your anxious pacing this morning but aren’t sure how much sleep you’re gonna get right now, tonight or for the rest of the month.

knowing that you’re unwelcomed by one person, extremely attracted to another and silently betraying the person you should be most loyal too - but as long as it just stays in your head, and you remind yourself that there’s no way mr. park could feel anything back to you, it’ll be fine.

you’ll just get by quietly and smoothly at dinners or in passing through the hallways, enjoy eunbi’s comfortable king-sized bed and the fact that you don’t have to spend yet another holiday alone.

reruns of drake and josh play in the background, keeping your giggles quiet as drake soaks his feet in lizard pee. you feel your eyes grow heavy the more episodes you watch, the shitty laugh track and loud, bickering brothers eventually lulling you to sleep.

it takes about five knocks on the door to eventually stir you, your eyes fluttering open to see mr park’s figure in the doorway. you can only stare at the man as you adjust to him, taking in his tall, slim figure just a few feet away from you.

taking in the way his white shirt clings to his body, broad shoulders and slim torso on display in a way that makes you wish you could see, just for a second, what he looks like underneath that a-

“sorry if i woke you,” his deep voice hums, the slightest bit of amusement in his voice that causes your cheeks to warm. “i didn’t think you’d be sleeping at seven p.m.”

“no, it’s okay,” you stammer out, sitting up in eunbi’s bed. “i... i don’t even know when i fell asleep, to be honest.”

he looks at the screen to see drake and josh playing, a smirk pulling at his lips as his gaze shifts back to you.

“it’s funny,” you defend with a mumble, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth that causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach - he’s far too handsome, everything about him is just far too attractive, even in his laugh.

“that’s what eunbi claims,” he says, remembering all the years of his daughter forcing him to watch ridiculous shows.

despite his daughter’s outgoing nature, she never had a lot of friends growing up.

there was once a small group of girls she hung out but they quickly drifted apart throughout high school, leaving eunbi really only with him and her boyfriend.

the boyfriend who seonghwa really didn’t wanna like out of principal but seeing that the kid really does love his daughter quickly coming around.

“speaking of, where is she? jiwoon’s?”

“yeah,” you tell him, settling back into the pillows and stretching your arms out in front of you. “she said she’d be back for dinner.”

“well she’s wrong, as usual, because dinner’s ready,” he quips playfully, the smirk pulling at his lips causing you to smile back at him. you swallow nervously when his eyes roam over your face, your own gaze trained on him before you see his mouth start to move again.

“do you want me to bring some up for you? or you’ll come down?”

he can see the apprehension on your face immediately, fear crossing your eyes and your arms folding into each other uncomfortably. he tries to ignores the way your soft white sweater dips by your chest, a hint of perky cleavage just barely showing that causes his dick to twitch in his pants.

he doesn’t know when this happened.

he didn’t know when he became a pervy old man who checked out college girls with his wife just downstairs and the knowledge that you’re his daughter’s friend.

“i’ll come down,” you say, surprising him just as he was about to insist he brings some up for you. “she’ll probably be back soon anyway.”

but five minutes pass by, then ten, then twenty and eunbi’s still not home - it’s just you, seonghwa and mrs. park at the long, glass dining room table.

white chairs with high backs and comfortable cushions to match the immaculate, hospital-like color scheme and environment; truthfully, you’ve never been more terrified to eat a plate of chicken parmesan in your life.

the sound of utensils scraping on the china and the crackling of the fireplace a room over are the only noises heard throughout the home, mrs. park taking a swig of wine and gently placing it on the table with a light clack.

“so, y/n,” she finally says, breaking the tension with her rich-sounding, nasally voice. “how has school been, dear? you’re an... art major, am i remembering that correctly?”

“uh, photography, yeah,” you smile tensely, trying to ignore the judgment in her voice.

“ah, so you never switched over to business then,” she hums, her wine glass back in hand as her dark, gorgeous eyes look you over.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you feel a pink flush cover your face, faintly remembering your roommate saving you a few semesters ago when her mom was grilling you about picking a more practical and useful major.

“she can do whatever she wants, mom,” eunbi eventually snapped, “whether she does business or photography or even liberal arts is none of your business.”

“no,” you mutter out, dropping your gaze to look over the intricate pattern on the table. “i thought about it but it wasn’t something i wanted.”

“so you didn’t want something practical? or useful?” she asks, using those two words yet again while cocking her head to the side with a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“a business degree would’ve been great, y/n. everyone always has connections to somewhere, you could’ve found a job right out of college.”

you bite back the urge to tell her no. that not everyone has connections to multi billion dollar companies or numbers of ceos in their phones or the ceo of a tech company as their next door neighbors.

but instead, the same way eunbi defended you against her mother, seonghwa does against his wife. gives you a soft, sympathetic side eye before placing his larger hand on his wife’s.

“there are tons of jobs in photography too, honey,” seonghwa says, his voice so warm and soft and welcoming compared to hers even despite the slight edge in it.

“and she can travel to build her portfolio. it’s a fantastic opportunity to explore the world and make money. is there a particular type of photography you’d wanna do?”

you feel yourself relax slightly, a small smile on your face as you nod your head toward the striking couple.

“i would love to be a wedding photographer actually,” you mumble, a romantic at heart who’s read and watched far too many novels and romcoms.

“taking pictures of all those moments would be really fun, i think. like when the groom sees the bride for the first time or just everyone dancing and having fun. weddings are usually happy and i like to photography happy things.”

“that sounds perfect for you then,” seonghwa smiles, his brown eyes lighting up and making you feel even more at ease.

“i think you’ll do great, y/n. and you only have a semester left, right? maybe you and eunbi you could travel for the summer before you start your jobs.”

you ignore the swish of dread and anxiety in your stomach at the mention of next semester, instead choosing to smile softly and nod your head at the man.

“i think she’d love that,” you giggle out, knowing damn well your roommate already has an extensive list of cities she wants to visit before ‘real life begins.’

“and how do your parents feel about everything?” mrs. park asks, making your stomach twist with even more dread and discomfort. “are they proud?”

you wish you could fold in on yourself right now, swallowing the growing, nervous lump in your throat.

because not only is she making you incredibly uncomfortable right now, with her harsh looks and topic of conversation and snide little tone, she just mentioned the people you haven’t spoken to since you left home at eighteen.

you don’t know what to say, you have the slightest bit of concern you might throw up on her, when the loud, chipper voice of your roommate floats through the cold, silent house.

“i’m back!” her chipper voice yelps, sock-clad feet running through the house and sliding on the marble floor. “what’d you guys make?”

“you’re late, eunbi,” seonghwa mumbles warningly, an innocent smile on her face as she picks up her plate of food and plops down next to you.

“am i? or are you girls just early?”

“i’m not a girl.”

“it’s a figure of speech, father,” eunbi says, smiling playfully at her father before turning to you.

she’s able to tell the second she sees your face that you’re uncomfortable, the pink flush still lingering on your face and the tenseness of your shoulders making her frown.

“i’m sorry you were alone with them,” she whispers, genuine sorrow in her wide, mock-innocent eyes. “i got held up. or... down, rather, but i tried to leave on time. i promise.”

“uh huh, i bet,” you mumble back, fighting back a smile despite your discomfort.

because eunbi has always had something about her that made it impossible to stay mad at her, her carefree, unfiltered way of communicating that made being her friend so easy.

even if, sometimes, you wanted to kill her.

“so mom,” eunbi quips, turning her soft gaze to you before looking over her mother.

“what was with your little group of bitchy housewives today? you couldn’t have had them over any other day? what kind of christmas disgrace is that?”

“eunbi...” seonghwa chastises lowly, the girl with her brow already quirked and eyes narrowed.

“i can do whatever i want in my home, eunbi. are you forgetting how things work around here?”

“how could i, when i’m met with thirty middle-aged women with botox out the ass in my home the second i get back from school?” she asks, “you didn’t think me and y/n would wanna spend the break, like, resting?”

“you ran off to your boyfriend’s the second you got here,” mrs. park bites back, her glass of wine empty as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “left your friend all alone in your room. what did i tell you about leaving... guests unattended in the house?”

the accusation and direction of conversation is quickly making you feel uncomfortable, your head turned down in your lap and leaving your cheeks aflame.

she’s making it sound like you would steal something in her home for christ’s sake, like you’re not a guest who’s dreaded coming here due to this very reason.

you block out the back and forth between eunbi and her mom, a few more seconds of yappy feminine voices before a deeply spoken “enough,” echoes through the dining room.

you even look up at the sound, watching as mr. park’s eyes rest on you. his eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of your red cheeks, his gaze shifting from you to his daughter to his wife beside him.

“y/n’s here for a month and we’re gonna make her feel welcomed the entire time. if you two are gonna fight, don’t do it at the dinner table.”

“but dad, she totally-”

“maybe you should’ve taught your daughter-”

“no more,” seonghwa growls, a sense of finality in his tone that causes the room to go silent.

you can tell your friend is unbothered by the reprimanding, shoveling food into her mouth and sipping from her wine glass completely unbothered.

sometimes you wish you could be more like her, so unfazed by conflict or loud voices or the strained relationship with a parent.

eunbi was always open with you about the rocky relationship with her mother, saying more than once to you that if it weren’t for her father, she would’ve long cut off any contact with her.

she had never really been there for eunbi growing up, having nannies and chefs take care of her for most of her life - it was her nanny of fifteen years who taught her how to walk and talk, was there with her for all the milestones she met through infancy, childhood and even adolescence.

but even then, eunbi was nonchalant and carefree about it.

saying that she’s not gonna waste her time being upset over it when she knows her mom doesn’t think about her at all. it makes your heart hurt for eunbi, grateful that the girl at least has a good relationship with her father and boyfriend.

and you, of course. you consider her your best friend and you know she does the same - even if sometimes, you wanna pull her hair out.

“i’m gonna go the food store tomorrow, eunbi, so if you and y/n want anything, just text it to me.”

“oooh can we come!” she squeals, knocking her arm into yours like an excited kid in a candy store. “we wanna try making our cookies again.”

“you’re gonna bake?” the girl’s father asks, a look of doubt on his face that causes you to bite back a smile.

“no, we’re gonna bake,” she corrects with snark, “y/n measures the ingredients and stirs, i put it in the oven and watch.”

“right, silly me,” the man hums, a smirk pulling at his lips the more he sees his daughter get irritated. “but of course you girls can come,” he says, his eyes flicking to you for just a few seconds too long.

you can only look back with a small smile, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth that you’re positive he doesn’t catch.

(he did).

you help clean your plate off before you and eunbi go up to her room later that night, once her door’s closed and she’s sitting down shooting her a look of disdain.

“i know you’re mad, okay, i’m sorry, i really am!” she whines, holding her arms out for you to come over. “i tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. he just kept wanting to-”

“i don’t need the details you sick freak!” you yelp, going over and plopping down on her bed. “ugh, it was just... so awkward. your mom hates me. she was utterly perturbed that i didn’t switch my major to business.”

“ugh, she’s a crotchety bitch i swear,” eunbi says, falling onto her back and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “i’m sorry, i really am. i won’t leave you alone with her again, i promise.”

you quirk an unconvinced eyebrow her way, eyes full of doubt and distrust before she throws herself on you and squeals that, at least, now you can have a scary movie marathon without any interruptions.

it seems you also probably should’ve made her promise last night that you’d never be alone with her father either; it didn’t even occur to you at the time, not thinking that she’d really ditch you two days in a row.

but alas, jiwoon’s car pulled up when all three of you were walking out of the house to the g-wagon for the trip to the food store, her shooting you an apologetic look and whispered condolences in your ear.

“i’m technically not breaking my promise because my dad’s nice,” she mumbled, the feeling in your body more nervous and aroused than it is angry and upset.

but she could’t know that.

“and when i break your head? then what, eunbi?”

“i love you,” she giggles in your ear, the playful tone of your voice letting her know she got off the hook again. “it’ll be fine. my dad’s a good man. he wouldn’t ever talk shit to you the way my mom does.”

little does she know how much you want her dad to talk shit to you.

talk to you in a way that’s casual and playful and teasing, like the hints of it you’ve seen in the car or in eunbi’s room when you were alone last night. you just want him to look at you with the slightest bit of something, even though it’s wrong.

not only because of his wife, no matter how big a bitch she is, but because of-

“do you still wanna come with me?”

seonghwa’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts, looking to the man dressed in a long, black jacket and expensive loafers. he looks far too fancy and delectable for a trip to the grocery store.

eunbi is long gone by now, her giggles and carefree run down the driveway and into her boyfriend’s car leaving you and mr. park alone, with only the blue sky and crisp air as your witness.

him looking you over hopefully, with a twinge of teasing and longing in his gaze.

you looking at him full of nerves and excitement, biting down on your lip as you nod your head timidly.

“s-sure, if that’s okay,” you say, looking from him to his car just a few feet away. “it’d be better than sitting in eunbi’s room again.”

a handsome smile crosses his face as he nods his head, heart pounding and throat constricting as you watch him walk toward the car.

he walks around the front of a smaller, sleek suv, your own eyes watching in confusion until he opens the passenger side door.

you can only stare blankly, head cocked to the side as you really start to wonder if this man is about to make you drive his car costing more than your life.

“are you getting in, y/n?” he asks, an amused smile pulling at his lips - almost like he’s making fun of your nervous, intimidated disposition.

you shake your head of the confusion, cheeks flushing in the cold december air as you do an awkward jog toward the car. you dip in beside him as your body hits the cool leather, craning your neck to shoot him a small, grateful smile.

your faces are closer than you anticipated, breath catching in your throat as his gaze watches you closely.

he doesn’t say a word or move a muscle, taking a few moments for his eyes to roam your face and body before mumbling to buckle up.

you wish you knew how long the drive to the store would be, as it would slightly settle you and the thick, awkward tension in the air. it appears to be enough time for the heat to go on, warm air blowing from the vents before he asks if you want your seat heater on.

“oh, sure, thank you,” you mumble, a smile quirking on his lips as he presses down on the small circular button.

more silence lingers in the air as the trees outside you pass by, the bright winter sun and blue sky not making it feel like christmas is only a few days away.

you can’t remember the last time the holidays have actually felt like it, though,  all the lonely days blending into one and feeling as if they were the same.

maybe this year, because you’re surrounded by eunbi and her family, it’ll feel less lonely. maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself and find that you’ve missed out when you denied her invitation each and every-

“i’m sorry about my wife last night.”

those are words you don’t expect so they shock you even more, looking at the older man beside you with a wide-eyed, confused gaze. his dark eyes are expressionless and casual on the road, one hand on the wheel while the other rests beside him.

“i... what do you mean?” you ask, knowing damn well you understand his apology - and given the unamused look he throws you, he knows you’re full of shit too.

“i don’t think she means to judge you so harshly,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice full of sympathy and softness. “it’s not her place to question your education or major, so i just want to apologize for her.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” you insist, shaking your head as a small, breathy chuckle leaves you. “and it’s not like i haven’t heard it before.”

because no one is ever too confident in any of the arts being your main source of income or profession; even your own parents, although it really wouldn’t matter what you would have chosen, haven’t been supportive.

and you especially haven’t missed the looks of pity or distaste when you tell people on campus or at parties in the frat house, future business leaders or stem majors looking at you like just said the sky is hot pink.  

“well that’s just ridiculous,” seonghwa says, ripping you from your thoughts so you can roam over his strong, handsome face. “it’s a great field to work in and something you’re passionate about. that’s what matters most.”

he can tell by the way your cheeks flush that you’re slightly embarrassed and he can’t help but find it endearing, licking over his lips as his mind begins to wander.

wonder about what other parts of you could flush so easily or what else he could say to really make the pinkness deepen.

“i guess,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you look at the passing oak trees and mansions.

“and... what you said last night about traveling to build my portfolio,” you begin, shocked by the words continuing to leave your mouth. “that’s something i’ve thought about doing. i think it’d be really fun, regardless if i did wedding photographer or not.”

“yeah?” he asks, the smile on his face causing your head to jump. “i think that’d be good, too. where would you wanna go first?”

your lips purse to the side as you think it over, a love for traveling anywhere you could but having an especially strong pull toward the tropics.

“cancun or the maldives,” you answer, the financial aspect of the trip leaving it most likely impossible for you. “it’ll probably never happen, because i’d have to sell my first born, but i’ve always wanted to go somewhere like that. somewhere tropical and fun.”

seonghwa bites his tongue about his multiple trips there, instead letting out a chuckle that causes butterflies to erupt. his eyes are too drawn to your body in the front seat, legs crossed and arms over your lap politely.

“you never know,” he hums, ripping his gaze away before you catch his gawking. “you might get there one day, after being the best wedding photographer the city has to offer.”

“oh, please,” you glggle out, cheeks flushing despite the absurdity of the comment.

you catch the smile that creeps on his face, the same handsome, carefree smile you saw in the car last time.

you try not to let it get to you, let your brain convince you that maybe he likes hanging out with you alone as much as you like it too.

“i’m serious,” he says, the earnest tone of his voice slipping into dad mode in a way he doesn’t even realize. “your parents must be proud.”

you bite down on your lip as you let out a soft, almost scornful, chuckle, a quietly mumbled “yeah,” leaving your mouth that causes his eyebrows to pull together.

he always thought it was a little suspicious that in the four years eunbi has known you, she’s never told him about your parents; as far as he knows, she’s never even seen them.

“she has her scholarship and stuff so she doesn’t really need them,” his daughter said one day, the two of them discussing why you were spending yet another break alone in the apartment.

“but they don’t want her home for the holidays? you told her she was welcomed, right?”

“ugh, about a thousand times,” his daughter groans in the seat, throwing herself against the window dramatically. “i basically begged her, dad, but she said she didn’t wanna intrude. i’m telling you it’s because mom is the biggest fucking-”

“eunbi...”

“you know it’s true!” she squeals, seonghwa biting his tongue in an effort to be the bigger and better parent. “i don’t even know why you guys got married.”

but that’s what happens with teen pregnancies and rich families. how they were destined to marry anyway, due to their parents companies and stupid business politics.

it was one drunken night at his dad’s company party and a broken condom that sealed his fate with finality - made him go from a single, carefree high school student to a married businessman with a child just two short years later.

his wife was good at one point he likes to think, remembering she was gorgeous and sassy and not like the other girls who would drop to their knees for him.

but marriage and a child and just life quickly caught up with them, already trapped in a loveless, pointless marriage by the time he hit 25.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t stay for eunbi, that they both didn’t stay for eunbi throughout her childhood and now just grew too used to being an unhappy married couple who live separate lives.  

there was never any reason for them to divorce though, no one serious in his or his wife’s lives and the hassle of money and disputing houses and cars and assets far too draining.

“i don’t believe i’ve ever met them,” seonghwa says, pulling into the store parking lot to see it’s less crowded than he suspected it’d be. “what do they do?”

you couldn’t imagine anything more unbearable than disclosing to your friend’s hot dad who you may or may not have feelings for about the messed up relationship with your parents.

it just screams daddy issues, which might say a lot about your very attraction to him in the first place.

“they run a little restaurant back in my home town. it’s about three hours from campus, which is why i don’t really go home for breaks.”

seonghwa hums lowly, nodding his head as he looks at you at a stop sign.

you’re unnerved by the way his eyes roam you, like he can see signs of you being uncomfortable about your parents and wants to know why - but why would he care? you’re only his daughter’s roommate.

“do you miss seeing them?”

you lick over your lips nervously, watching as his eyes darken every so slightly.

he watches each and every of your movements carefully, so in tune with your reactions and breaths you can just feel yourself getting more and more worked up.

not in the slightest, you wanna say. i’ll probably never see them again and have no qualms about it, mr. park.

“i suppose,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you apprehensively meet his gaze.

“you suppose?” he asks, concern etched on his face. “when was the time you’ve seen them? since your freshmen year?”

you avert your gaze as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, in no way wanting to have this discussion at ten a.m. when, much to your pleasure, an impatient car behind beeps at seonghwa’s mercedes.

his dark eyes move to the rearview mirror, narrowed and irritated in a way you can’t help but think is sexy, before he puts his foot off the break and turns into the parking lot.

“i think this person’s leaving,” you mutter when you notice another car go in reverse, seonghwa snatching the spot before the impatient, crotchety lady behind him could steal it.

you can’t help but smirk as seonghwa eyes her when you get out of the car, giving him a look that’s half judgmental and half amused.

“what? she beeped at me.”

“aren’t you supposed to be, like, an adult?”

he rolls his eyes as he takes a cart from the pile, nodding his head for you to go in front and “stop talking back to an elder.”

you can’t help but smirk at his playfulness, taking your spot in the front and pretending as if you always move your hips this much when you walk casually; you would’ve felt embarrassed, had you not turned around a few moments later to see his eyes already on you.

“where to first, mr. park?”

he has to bite back the groan threatening to leave his mouth, reminding himself to keep himself in check this month - starting tomorrow.

“depends, y/n,” he hums, voice far too deep and sultry to be surrounded by innocent bystanders in the grocery store. “what do you want?”

words are caught in your throat and you can only stare dumbly, your plan quickly back firing as he appears to do the same - but it’s gotta be in your head, right?

regardless, it quickly humbles you in the form of a small, unsure shrug.

it’s how you two start walking up and down the aisles, seonghwa putting in what he remembers and items on his mental list while also insisting you put in anything you want.

your arms bump ever so often, softly apologizing and acknowledging it the first few times before you both realize it may be happening on purpose.

you stick close to him when the aisles get tight and crowded, his deep voice telling you to “go ahead,” causing you to swallow shakily. you feel the presence of his hand just a few inches from your hips, lingering and hovering but never fully touching.

it’s finally when you’re in the bread aisle, seonghwa a few feet away talking to the man at the bakery counter, that you decide to put something in the cart.

you would usually never accept someone’s offer to buy you something, already feeling bad about staying with them rent free and eating their meals without compensating.

but the brioche loaf brand is one of your favorites, only sold on occasion at the corner store near campus.

you press up on your tippy toes to grab the bag of bread, stretching your arm up with all your might. the plastic slips through your fingers just as you’re about to snatch it down, letting out an annoyed huff as you pulled down your sweater dress.

you mumble your annoyances before trying again, back on the tips of your toes with your arm raising when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

it’s large and warm and seeping through the thin material of your burgundy dress, a snappy protest about to leave your mouth when you catch mr. park’s face in your peripheral.

there’s a content look on his face as he takes the bag with ease, holding it above your head as his hand moves from your back to your waist with a gentle touch.

you look at him with wide eyes and a pounding heart, his hand on your waist so foreign and strange but... good. something you didn’t even realize you’d been craving until it happened.

the strength and warmth of his hand, though if you think about it just enough, you can feel the weight of his wedding band through the fabric.

“is this what you wanted?”

his voice is deep and low as he speaks to you and you alone, your eyes raising to see him staring down at you. you can’t make out the expression in them, just the darkness in his eyes and the frantic beating of your heart.

you can’t even being to understand the context of his words right now because, yes, this is exactly what you’ve wanted - but he doesn’t know that, right?

“w-what?”

he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face, all sorts of pride and satisfaction and arousal coursing through his veins at your current disposition.

“the bread,” he says, stepping back and holding it out to you. “is this the one you wanted?”

your eyes narrow as you look at him, the smirk on his face, the amusement in his gaze, the playfulness that’s radiating off him - is he fucking with you?

“oh... i... yes,” you finally say, coming to your senses and not allowing yourself to think this way anymore. “that’s the one. i hope it’s okay.”

“of course,” he hums, placing the bread in the cart before going back to the front handles. “you can get anything you want, i already told you that.”

you nod dumbly as you follow beside him, seonghwa picking more things off the shelves and muttering the list to himself as you try to get your shit together.

because yes, you’re attracted to him and yes, you’ve found yourself alone with him for more than two days in a row and yes, there’s been some lingering looks and touches but that doesn’t mean anything.

you can’t let your own deluded thoughts and desires get in the way of reality.

the reality that he’s your friend and roommate’s married father and you’re a college student. he doesn’t want you just as much as you shouldn’t want him so what’s the problem here?

maybe it’s that you’re a 22-year-old woman who’s only been on a handful of dates.

that the last time you made out with someone was when you were drunk and dared to kiss the first guy that walked through the bar (luckily, somewhat attractive and surprisingly polite).

that, maybe, you’re so horribly touch-starved and aching for affection, you’re trying to find it in a hot father figure who’s just as kind as he sexy - and that, you think, is the second most tragic thing here.

because the first would absolutely be thinking that any of this, any of these stares or touches or coincidences of eunbi leaving you two alone, means something.

means that maybe this break is for you two is create an attraction and build some sort of bond and-

“y/n.”

you’re barely able to register seonghwa’s voice before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your body into his taller one and having you pressed up right against him.

you were so lost in thought of him that you didn’t see the older women skirting her cart around the aisle quickly, phone pressed to her ear as she yells to her husband about the christmas ham.

you’re not even sure if she shoots you a look of sorrow or utters any apology, too consumed and distracted by the feeling and proximity of mr. park.

his arm wrapped around you, your body pressed flush up against him, his neck craned down to look at you with a building... something in his eyes. playfulness and teasing but also something darker, something that makes your stomach swoop and renders you unable to move.

“are you always so clumsy and distracted?” he mumbles lowly, his deep voice quiet for only you two to hear - like he knows even in a sea of strangers, he has to keep these interactions quiet.

“what would you do if i wasn’t here to help you, y/n?”

i wouldn’t have been distracted in the first place, you’re tempted to say - but you certainly don’t wanna open that can of worms, especially not in the middle of this grocery store with the way your heart is pounding.

“i... i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you mutter, playing up the damsel in distress just a little bit. “my mistake, mr. park.”

he licks over his lips, swearing his name just being spoken has never effected him like this. he doesn’t even know where this attraction came from, seeing you leave the dorm building yesterday morning and something in his body jumping at the sight of you.

maybe it’s just showing how unhappy he really is with his life, living day to day to just work. hang out with his friends and go to sleep alone - he doesn’t remember the last time his wife touched him, looked at him like she wanted him or made any move to be with him.

he just knows that you showed up, looking so pretty and wide-eyed and coy, and is now about to lose his mind.

“it’s alright,” he says, hoping you don’t hear the thick tension he hears in his own voice, like he’s some idiotic, hormonal young boy. “i think we only have a few more aisles left, anyway.”

he plucks the remaining items off the shelves before you both make your way to the self check-out, him scanning and you bagging because “eunbi says if my career as a photographer fails, i could be the best grocery bagger ever.”

“that’s just because she puts the bread on the bottom,” seonghwa mutters, a smile on your face as you nod your head - she squished one too many of your brioche loafs before you realized bagging just wasn’t for her.

your fingers graze ever so often, the coldness of his tips a stark contrast to your warmer ones.

a particularly big, bulk bag of vegetables proves to be a challenge for you, working through the packed bag with some difficulty. you let out an annoyed groan as you play a dangerous game of tetris, trying not to rip open the brown paper bag.

you finally get the box inside, a little bit prouder than you care to admit, when your precious brioche loaf is dropped right atop. you look up at seonghwa to see him already apologizing, your brow raised as you look at the older man in confusion.

did he think your hand was out? why would he just throw the food at you?

but it’s only when you feel a little more air than normal on your chest that you see what could’ve possibly caused the distraction, the white lace from your bra sticking out.

your cleavage in this dress was hidden for the most part, only becoming a little more obvious when you moved around or packed a shitload of groceries. it makes you bite back a smirk as you put two and two together, looking up to see his eyes still lingering over you.

two can play at this game mr. park.

“mr. park,” you begin, feigning a certain kind of innocence as you place your bread atop the other groceries and finally look up at him. “are you always so clumsy?”

it takes a few seconds for a smile to pull at his lips, the tick in his jaw not going unnoticed to you - so maybe this wasn’t all in your head. maybe he wants you too... possibly.

“you’re funny, y/n,” he mumbles, a smile pulling at your lips as he takes out his black card. “i guess i was distracted, too.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the slightest hint of arousal run through you, shaking it off and letting out a forced, girlish chuckle.

you pack the car a few minutes later without any lingering eyes or touches, seonghwa telling you about the meals they plan on cooking for christmas.

they usually don’t make their own food for holidays but decided to have a more traditional set up for you and eunbi’s arrival - he also hasn’t cooked a meal for his family in god knows how long.

“that’ll be great, thank you,” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt in as he backs out the spot. “i’m kind of a picky eater but i’ll eat anything you guys provide me.”

“and you have the whole brioche loaf,” seonghwa says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head.

“true. it’s really good.”

“i’ve never tried, perhaps you’d be willing to-”

his wife’s name popping up on his car dashboard acts as a way to bring you back to reality, brings a certain kind of silence over the both of you for a few seconds.

like he wasn’t just rubbing his body against yours and you weren’t just flirting with him in the form of smirking lips and snarky comments.

you watch a twinge of annoyance behind seonghwa’s eyes, gaze roaming over the screen as if he’s in contemplation before muttering “one second.”

“hello?”

“where are you?” her voice snaps in annoyance, “i told you we had that board meeting at one.”

“and it’s only noon,” his deep voice mumbles, not matching her level of irritation but sounding a whole lot different than a few seconds ago. “me and y/n are coming back now.”

“y/n?” she spats, like it’s a disgusting piece of food she wouldn’t dare put in her mouth. “what about eunbi?”

“she went off with jiwoon before i could get her in the car.”

“so it was only you two?” she asks, the snide judgment and underlying tone in her voice causing your stomach to churn. “did she ask you to buy a bunch of-”

“i’ll be home in twenty and then be on my way over,” he says, cutting her off and hanging up before she can even get another word you.

your stomach churns and a sick feeling comes over you, her utter dislike and disdain for you causing you to bite your lip.

because not only does she not like you to be with her daughter, she doesn’t want you with her husband (although, you suppose, you can’t really blame her for that one).

“i’m sorry about that,” seonghwa winces, the silence lingering between you two heavy. “you could’ve gotten anything you wanted, y/n. this is your christmas too. don’t feel bad about anything, okay?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your gaze moving to his as he stops at the red light.

your eyes lingering over his and his doing the very same, hand twitching to reach out and move the piece of hair from your slightly flushed face.

and there was something about the way you were both looking at each other, eyes so focused and unwavering and honest, that had you thinking maybe all of this wasn’t in your heads.

but it didn’t mean either of you could act on it - they were just... feelings of lust and wonder and all things forbidden, not seriously believing that a relationship like this could unfold right under the nose of his wife, his daughter and your roommate.

unless the pull was so desperate.

so overwhelming and all-consuming and present between the both of you, little moments couldn’t help but happen.

strike one:

with none other than eunbi as a distraction, the girl promising she wasn’t gonna leave you alone anymore, you were able to take your mind off everything.

the tension-filled, heart pounding moments with mr. park that felt just as wrong as they did right.

you spent a few nights going out with her, jiwoon and all of their high school friends, a surprisingly nice group of young adults who you got along well with.

they were loud and crazy and did far too many shots but they also seemed to be genuinely kind. even the boy who was flirting with you all night, handsome and tall with pretty dark eyes, acted as a good distraction.

grinding up against him as the music pounded throughout the bar, alcohol coursing through your veins allowing you to forget about the older man who’s been living in your head for almost a week now.

“how have i never met you before, y/n?” the boy mumbled lowly in your ear, your head against his shoulder carelessly.

but it was right there in that moment, him saying your name, that the moment was over.

because it just didn’t sound like seonghwa, as delusional as that was.

it didn’t get your heart racing or lips quirking the same way it did when you heard the older man say it. the smile attached to his handsome, mature face and the deep, lowly spoken tone that always held a hint of teasing and sincerity.

“but danny really is so freakin’ nice!” eunbi squeals to you on christmas eve, the two of you in her immaculately white and modern kitchen prepping the chocolate chip cookie cough for tomorrow.

“and you two seemed to be getting along, i saw your ass all up on him.”

“eunbi, that wasn’t me. that was the vodka. i don’t know who that girl was.”

she throws her head back as a loud chuckle leaves her, telling you again that she warned you her snobby, rich little friends have been able to handle their liquor since middle school.

it’s how they cope, she had said, unloved kids with more money than god learning to deal with the world of limitless funds and minimal parental supervision.

“well he hasn’t stopped asking me about you, you know,” she hums, her eyebrows quirked suggestively as she mixes the bowl of ingredients lazily.

“and not just because of your newfound grinding skills, which by the way, are usually learned by the tenth grade.”

your eyes narrow at her comment, throwing a small ball of dough at her that she, impressively, catches in her mouth.

“he really is just, like, so taken by you, y/n. seriously. i told him that you’re graduating this year with a degree in photography and he nearly came in his pants. he loves the artsy girls.”

“you are so vile,” you snort out, shaking your head at the girl sitting criss-crossed on the counter. “and stop saying that. we both know i’m not graduating this year,” you mumble, her face falling pathetically.

“i told you we’re gonna find a way,” she whines lowly, looking at you with all kinds of sympathy and sadness in her eyes - she would offer to pay for you, if she didn’t think you would smack her upside the head.

“oh and what? is my new boyfriend danny gonna do that for me?”

“in exchange for more grinding and a photoshoot, i think. do you want me to try?”

she lets out another giggle despite the way you pinch her leg, peeking inside the bowl with a surprising amount of pride.

"this looks good,” you mumble, swiping your finger to collect some of the chocolate dough.

“hey!” she whines brattily, thrusting a spoon toward your hand just a second too late.  

“why are you whining in here like a child, eunbi?” seonghwa asks, walking through the entryway and the large, white island in the center. “what are you making? please don’t burn the house down.”

“haha dad, you’re so funny,” she mocks sarcastically, jumping down from the counter with her hands on her hips. “where are the baking sheets?”

a simple shrug from her father causes her to roll her eyes, grumbling about how she was really trying to avoid her bitch of a mother today. he holds back his smirk, about to reprimand her before she’s out the kitchen and shouting for her mother upstairs.

it’s only you and seonghwa in the kitchen now, a heavy silence in the air as you stand there dumbly - bowl beside you, cookie dough adorning the top of your finger.

“what are you girls making?” he finally asks, his body moving closer and closer causing you to swallow.

“i... uh, cookie dough. for tomorrow,” you say, lifting your finger and wiggling the tip full of batter. “chocolate chip.”

his eyes move to your finger before grazing over your mouth, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as he reminds himself to act right.

he hasn’t been alone with you since that day at the food store, just seeing you in passing in the hallways or outside the house as you and eunbi went to and fro.

he hears your giggles at night and tired groans in the morning, quietly yelling at his daughter to wake up and get her ass out of bed.

and he knows it’s probably for the better, that you two don’t find yourselves alone with each other, but he can’t help but feel a rush of excitement right now.

you watch as he moves closer, with the same wide-eyed look you’ve been giving him since he first saw you in your apartment weeks ago.

“ahh, you’re making it from scratch? that’s ambitious.”

“yeah, we googled a recipe,” you tell him, finger still beside you in the air.

you don’t know what causes you to be so bold, maybe him attempting to carry out a normal conversation even though he’s looking at you with so much lust and desire, but you can’t stop once you start.

“how’s it taste?” he asks, his voice deep and slightly strained as he nods his head toward your finger.

you don’t even bat an eye as you slip the tip of your finger in your mouth slowly, swirling your tongue around as you take up all the dough on your skin.

it’s sweeter than you originally thought it’d be but it tastes good nonetheless, keeping your eyes on him as you reamin as innocent and unassuming as possible.

“it’s good,” you say, dropping your finger like you didn’t just make a show of licking and sucking it. “i like it better raw.”

you don’t even realize your words until you see the fleeting look on his face, tongue swiping across his lip and eyes hardening. they roam you so slowly and darkly, you can’t control the growing butterflies and swooping in your lower stomach.

“mm, me too,” he hums lowly, the hardening of his cock in his pants something he hasn’t felt in forever. it’s taking everything in him to control himself, from his eyes popping out of his head to letting out the deepest of growls in the back of his throat.

“do you want some?” you ask, cocking your head to the side questioningly.

he has to desperately hold on to his composure, not think about how easy it’d be to pin you against the cabinet right behind you. take just a few steps closer, have your back against the cold granite and let you feel just how much he wants some.

but he has to play it cool, push down these building desires and ignore your teasing because he’s almost fucking positive that’s what’s happening here.

“want some what?” he asks, his voice lowering just a tad.

he hasn’t played a game like this since college, watching as your eyes widen and brow quirks up.

but he sees that’s exactly what it is when you turn around and face the bowl of cookie dough to him, a smile just as sweet as the cookies on your face.

“cookie dough. before we put them in the oven and possibly burn them.”

the breathy chuckle he lets out leaves your stomach in shambles, his tongue peeking out and poking the inside of his cheek causing a swooping sensation to flood through you.

but before he can even think to say anything, before your eyes can look over his body and make you feel even more warm and bothered, eunbi floats back in and fiddles in the cabinets for the baking sheets.

“that woman is too much, i swear,” she grunts, whipping out the materials quickly before her head snaps to her father. “why are you still here?”

“i wanted some cookies. and to ensure y/n won’t allow you do burn down the kitchen.”

“it was one time, dad, and an accident. how many times do i have to defend myself in this house?”

you let out a giggle as you look from eunbi to seonghwa, your roommate turning her back to set up the practice baking session.

“let’s go bitch! i hope we didn’t fuck this up.”

seonghwa’s eyes roam over you for a few more moments, his tongue swiping across his lips before, finally, leaving the kitchen with his dick hard as a rock.

strike two:

christmas consisted of successful cookies per your and eunbi’s homemade batch, passive aggressive comments from mrs. park about your degree and a whole fuck ton of sexual energy between you and seonghwa.

you could almost always feel when his gaze was boring into you, when you got up to take more mashed potatoes or kept your attention on eunbi as she told her parents about what job she wants to start at next semester.  

it’s also when eunbi almost let it slip about your scholarships, had you not viciously pinched her arm and caused a pained cry to leave her mouth - if you ever thought jiwoon was gonna verbally assault you, it was certainly in that moment.

“why did you pinch me so hard?” she whined later that night, jiwoon passed out on the couch after five too many homemade cookies. “look at my bruise.”

a genuine frown crosses your lips as you look at her arm, rubbing her skin gently as you mumble your soft spoken apologies.

“i’m sorry but i just... i didn’t want your mom to know that,” you say back just as whiney and pathetic. “she already thinks i’m an incompetent idiot. knowing i have to wait a whole year because i’m broke is just too embarrassing.”

it’s an admission that, while eunbi already suspected that, still makes her feel bad - it nearly makes her wanna cry, that you don’t feel welcomed and loved in her home because her mom has to be a judgmental bitch.

“y/n...”

“bi, it’s fine, oh, my god do not cry right now,” you grumble, flicking her in the head lightly.

“i just feel bad,” she cries lowly, moving hrself closer to you and away from her boyfried. “it’s not fair, y/n. you worked so hard and now you have to wait. how could they do this to you?”

a small, touched smile crosses your face at eunbi as you shake your head, dabbing at her watery eyes.

if jiwoon wakes up, he’s literally gonna beat my ass,” you say, smiling when a wet giggle leaves eunbi; you don’t want this time to be sad or upsetting. “i thought he was gonna hit me at dinner.”

“okay if he’s hitting anything, it’s gonna be my-”

“no. no, no, no.”

the snort that leaves her mouth doesn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach, looking at you with a frown still adorning her face.

“i’m sorry if my mom’s making you feel uncomfortable. she does it to every single person ever and i don’t-”

“it’s fine, please stop apologizing for her,” you say, the sinking reminder in the back of your mind that seonghwa had been doing the very same thing - apologizing for that woman.

“i know she’s stressing you out, too. we’re in it together.”

“that’s true,” she sighs, letting out a long, dramatic groan before resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m so bloated, i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to eat again.”

and it was funny that, days after the holiday, eunbi was still convinced that she was bloated from christmas dinner.

“babe, i don’t even think that’s possible,” jiwoon consoled her, you and him sitting in her room as she gets ready to go down to the pool.

because, naturally, like everyone in this godforsaken rich town, they get ready to go to the pool that’s inside of their homes; when eunbi told you to pack a bathing suit back at your apartment, you looked at her like she was insane.

until she clarified that her pool is heated and, conveniently, indoors.

“just through the backyard,” she had said - and she truly meant it.

just a few yards away from the main deck area, with floor to ceiling glass windows that showcase the extravagant landscaping and, of course, the outdoor pool and jacuzzi just a few feet away.

“eunbi, this is insane,” you say, marveling at the sight before you.

“don’t you wish you came sooner?” she asks with a wink, your eyes rolling as you place down your towel.

you had the option to bring two bathing suits - a skimpy black one you don’t remember being so scandalous or a red one you remember eunbi insisting you buy last summer.

and you just knew it was because danny was coming, currently showcasing his impressive eight pack that, truly, just doesn’t do it for you - maybe if he was twenty years older, apparently, and somebody’s father and husband.

you shake the thoughts out of your head, walking a few steps toward the pool before eunbi tackles you from behind. you both land with a loud splash, followed by the excited shouts and loud splashes of her other friends.

you’d be lying if you said you could remember the last time you had this much fun, splashing and giggling and acting so carefree despite the many challenges you’ll have to face soon.

but that’s not any of your concern right now, currently sitting atop danny’s shoulders and trying to knock down eunbi in a game of chicken.

“you little bitch! get your nails out of me!”

“coming from the girl who literally just tried to choke me two seconds ago!”

“like it’s your first time being choked!”

and you don’t know whether jiwoon was shocked by you saying that statement or the fact that his girlfriend exposes all of her sexual kinks to you but alas, it did the trick in sealing you a victory.

a smug smile on your face as danny jumps up and down in excitement, your body bouncing and nearly falling over him had you not gripped onto his shoulders.

it’s at that time eunbi pops up from the water, hair a soaking mess and mascara running down her face. she’s about to open her mouth, probably to yell at you, before a volleyball is thrown through the air and just misses her face.

instead, it hits danny square in the head. the boy letting out a yelp before you promptly fall backwards in the water, hearing eunbi’s shrill squeal and giggle on your way down.

you pop up and throw her a dirty look, danny rubbing at the back of his side before apologizing profusely.

“it’s okay,” you giggle out, about to say you shouldn’t have been up there for so long before eunbi’s squealing in the air.

“dad, what the hell kind of aim was that!”

you feel your body stiffen before you quickly shoot around, none another than mr. park standing there looking as handsome as ever.

he puts the young men around you to shame, good-looking, muscular college boys who anyone in their right mind would find attractive - but they just don’t beat him.

his striking eyes or tall, lean stature or the fact that he’s just so fucking-

“got worse with age, bi, what can i say?” he chuckles, extra white fluffy towels in his hold that he places on the chair. “sorry, danny.”

seonghwa’s known danny for a few years now, one of jiwoon’s friends who seems... alright. not a bad guy but also not a good guy - just kind of there; but it didn’t occur to the man just how much he was bothered by him until he saw you on his shoulders.

because he could’ve put you in danger, of course. put you in danger at his house where if things got bad, he’d be responsible; as for the ball, it merely slipped from his finger tips.

“no problem mr. park,” the kid smiles, the other friends gathering around and looking at him expectantly. “we’re gonna play a round of volleyball. you in?”

“no. no dads allowed,” eunbi whines, seonghwa rolling his eyes at his bratty adult daughter.

“why not? because i’m better than all of you, eunbi?”

“oh please,” she grumbles lowly, rolling her eyes and grabbing you to lead you toward the stairs. “you know what, we’re going in the hot tub anyway. since she decided to rock my shit in chicken. enjoy my father traitors,” eunbi grumbles to jiwoon and his friends.

“i did not,” you protest weakly, feeling two pairs of eyes on you as you make your way out of the pool with your friend.

the first thing that strikes seonghwa, apart from the major twitch in his pants, is how skimpy your bikini is.

red bottoms with thin straps holding it up, a matching red top showcasing cleavage and beauty marks on your chest and all the things that are proving to drive him fucking crazy upon seeing you every day.

it’s taking everything in him to control the growing ache in his shorts, your eyes looking at him so coyly and attentively that you’re ignoring the college boy gawking at you right in front of him.

there’s a certain sort of twisted pride in his chest, you giving him attention and seemingly reciprocating his interest, when there’s someone younger right there for you.

younger and unmarried and more suitable for you. someone you can actually be with where it wouldn’t be considered dirty or wrong or secretive; but maybe that’s why you’re both drawn to it in the first place.

that, and because you’re both really hot.

“he’s literally hot, y/n! why don’t you like him?” eunbi whines to you, the two of you sitting across from one another in the hot tub outside.

the december air is crisp but feels nice comapred to the steaming water you’re gratefully submerged in. anything to take you away from mr. park shirtless and wet in the pool right now.

“i do like him, bi,” you mutter, trying your best to convince her and now seem suspicious.

“okay, yeah, as a person but who cares about that!” she whines, flopping her hands dramatically in the water. “you don’t want him to rail you.”

“eunbi!” you squeak, splashing in her direction as a warm, embarrassed blush rises to your cheeks.

“i’m serious y/n. you’ve never been railed before and danny’s such a good option. he’s hot and he’s sweet and he’s so pathetically into you, it’s a little sick.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, shooting her a look that screams can we please not talk about this because you don’t know how much i actually wanna be railed by your father so let’s stop this discussion.

but she only rolls her eyes, moving herself closer to you so she can tug at your arm annoyingly.

“is he just not your type?” she questions, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion for a few moments before utter shock crosses her face.

“wait, what is your type? it’s... men, right? have i been hooking you up with the wrong gender this whole time?” she asks in disbelief, “could we have been hooking up this whole time?”

you press your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing, dryly replying “yes, eunbi, i’m into men.”

but the more you think about it, the more you think maybe you don’t have a type.

“and i’ve... never really thought about it before, to be honest. i just know i’m not into like... frat guys or whatever.”

because any party you’d been to, any douchey college guy wearing a backwards hat or cut off shirt, you had never been more disinterested. you couldn’t ever picture yourself falling for someone like that, romantically or sexually.

the one time you remember thinking someone was hot was when you took film and lit with your 31-year-old professor.

“so older guys?” eunbi concludes after hearing that, a smirk on her face as she raises her eyebrows playfully. “we gotta scope out some golf courses or retirement homes?”

“please,” you scoff, a giggle leaving her mouth as she throws her head back gleefully.

“okay, really though, i’ll tell danny you’re not interested and to stop trying so hard if you’re really not interested.”

but maybe danny as a distraction will be good.

will make you see that, perhaps, someone single and your own age and not your best friend’s father will be good thing for you to explore.

so you shrug lightheartedly, the smirk on your face causing eunbi to let out a low “oooh shit.”

you look over at her and your smile only widens when she knocks your shoulder, saying that you’re looking to be a play girl and drain a rich, lovesick man of some christmas presents.

“yeah, right! why drain a rich man when i can drain my best friend,” you tease, looking around her yard and still in astonishment that this is really her life. “i mean, two pools? is that really necessary?”

“three actually. there’s one behind the guest house on the other side. a small one. very humble.”

“oh, a small one, okay. great.”

she lets out another giggle, the two of you talking over plans for new years eve.

you might go up to jiwoon’s parents house in the mountains for the weekend, spend the time drinking with the small group of friends you’ve come to genuinely like over these past few weeks.

“it’s only two hours away so it won’t be that bad either,” she says, getting up to shake the hot water off her arms. “i’ll be right back, i have to pee.”

you nod your head, grateful she didn’t piss in the pool and allowing yourself to sit there, eyes closed, body relaxed, in the silence.

you can hear the faint screams of the boys from the indoor pool area and the swish of the hot tub filter, peeking open your eyes when, suddenly, you think you hear a boom of thunder in the distance.

you watch the sky darkening and clouds coming in, signaling a storm is coming in soon and quick. a sigh leaves your mouth, enjoying your last few moments of peace before finally standing in the hot tub.

the crisp winter air blows and sends goosebumps up your arms, a shiver running through your body as you attempt to splash some hot water on your upper body.

you don’t know how you know someone’s watching you but you do, some sort of strange intuition within you looking up to see none other than mr. park standing a few feet away from the hot tub.

his dark hair is wet and hanging in his face, swimming trunks soaked and his exposed chest still dripping chlorine water.

you press your lips together as your eyes roam his chest, a hint of abs on his lean stomach that causes a small, strangled groan to leave your mouth - you will never understand how this man is pushing 40.

but the same way you’re looking at him, he’s looking at you.

water covering your body, currently hunched over trying to warm the rest of your body; but it’s when you stand he really starts to gawk, your figure standing full and tall and giving him a perfect view of your hardening nipples from the cold crisp air.

you can see the lust in his eyes the same way you know he can and you’re about to do something to just make him crack. mistakingly untie your bottoms, catching them at the last second so he thinks he’s about to get a peak.

or undo the back of your top and pout at him, ask him to please tie it back for you because it’s way too hard to reach behind and do it yourself.

or maybe you’ll just drop to your knees right there, try to see if there’s any hint of a bulge in his swimming trunk bottoms and-

his body is gone just as fast as he arrived, confusion covering your face before you shake your head of your perverted thoughts - dropping to your knees when his daughter and wife are right here, what the fuck is wrong with you today?

you blame eunbi, all her talk about getting railed when you’ve been wanting to jump her father’s bones.

you carefully make your way out of the hot tub, not wanting to eat shit and scarp your leg on the concrete.

it feels like you’re about to freeze in the cold, another shiver wracking your body before you turn to stick your cold, goosebump-ridden arms back in the hot tub. it warms you for just a few seconds, a low, satisfied hum leaving your mouth before you hear footsteps coming up from behind you.

something in you tells you it’s him again.

whether it be the way your body heats up and feels prickly, the obvious feeling of eyes burning into your exposed back causing you to remain still and oblivious.

but you can longer remain oblivious a few seconds later, when a tall body is just a few inches away from completely pressing against you.

“you forgot a towel,” is all he says, placing it on the wet rim of the hot tub.

when he leans forward to place the white towel down, he’s careful and meticulous with his movements. brushing up against you every so slightly and carefully that you can feel his hard bulge on your ass for a few seconds too long.

at first you think you’re crazy, feeling what you were trying to envision in your head, but then you absolutely know it there’s.

you can feel the wetness from his bathing suit on your legs, his cock right there resting on the thin, red fabric of your bikini bottoms and if you were as weak as you felt inside, if he stayed there just a little bit longer, a moan would’ve absolutely left your mouth.

if you pushed back just a little to feel more of his cock on you, grind your ass his hardness just enough to hear him let out a low groan or maybe curse a little.

but he moves away, almost like he knew the perfect amount of time before that happened and almost like he did it by accident - but when you turn around and see the look in his eyes, you know it wasn’t.

the same way he can see a palpable desire and surprise and tension in your gaze, causing him to suppress a growing smirk. it makes you wanna tease him back in whatever way you can but you know that eunbi’s due back from the bathroom at any moment.

so you only cock your head to the side, lick over your lower lip carefully as you grasp the towel in your hands gently.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, your voice as airy and sweet as you can possibly make it without sounding like an idiot.

“you’re welcome, y/n,” he says, taking a few steps back as his eyes lock on you. he stays there for a few moments until he hears the door to the pool house open.

you watch his lustful, dark expression change right then and there, a towel wrapping around his lower body and his face stretching into a happy, father-approved look.

“so you’re good with anything for dinner, y/n?” he asks, his voice loud and clear enough for his approaching daughter to hear. “i know you mentioned you were picky.”

“let’s get pizza!” eunbi screeches through the air, telling seonghwa that everyone’s staying over and they’ll need at least four boxes.

but you can’t even think about pizza right now, not when this moment right here is solidifying the crazy thought in your head that your best friend’s dad wants you just as much as you want him.

you called him out later that night around one a.m., after eunbi and jiwoon were the last to pass out to your scary movie marathon.

the others were sprawled out on the basement floor, an intricate array of blankets and pillows on the floor that you attempted to weave through, both, skillfully and quietly.

there was a dryness in your throat that could only be settled by a cold glass of water, making your way through the house quietly and praying you don’t run into mrs. park.

she’s been just as passive aggressive as she usually is in front of people so you could never imagine being alone with her. wondering what the hell she’d say to you without seonghwa and eunbi as buffers.

you were relieved when the lights were off in the kitchen, padding your way to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. you twist and turn the cap off to gulp down the cold liquid in the refrigerator light, a quiet gasp leaving you as your thirst is quenched.

you briefly consider going up to eunbi’s room to sleep tonight, not sure how you feel about being squished in with eunbi and jiwoon cuddling on the couch, when the light suddenly flicks off.

it causes you to freeze and halt all thoughts, fear running through you for all three seconds before you see seonghwa’s tall, familiar figure pass you. you watch him carefully in the dim light of the fridge, his shirtless chest yet again right in front of your face.

leaned back against the counter across from you, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest and gray sweatpants.

“midnight snack?” he asks, the smirk on his face almost causing you to roll your eyes.

instead, your lips quirk into a small smile. raising your water bottle by your head and shaking it, the water swishing in your pounding ears.

“just water,” you respond quietly, matching his low tone. “i hope that’s okay.”

“that you took water? of course, y/n,” he says, amusement in his gaze as he looks you over.

you’re freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas, matching pink sets that eunbi got you for christmas one year - he remembers because he was with her when she bought it.

a soft smile crosses your face, your back getting cold from the open fridge but not daring to move a muscle. not with him looking at you the way he is and with his body just a few feet away from you.

a silence lingers in the kitchen, you not sure why he’s looking at you and him waiting to see if you say something, before he bites the inside of his cheek.

“i wanted to say sorry about before.”

your eyebrow quirks up, interest so clearly peaked as you cock your head to the side.

“what do you mean?”

a smirk crosses his face as he watches you play dumb, head cocked and eyes wide and everything about you with such mock innocence, he thinks that’s what’s driving him the most crazy.

that you do this shit and say certain things with almost complete unawareness and innocence, if it weren’t for the hidden look of desire and teasing in your eyes.

“you know,” is all he says, his voice dipping and eyes twinging darker, it makes your lower stomach swoop.

a part of is positive, even if you ask, he’s not gonna say it aloud.

he’s not gonna say or acknowledge any of this aloud and make you guys play this game until you leave in a few weeks.

and then when you leave, unsure about your next prospects of college or education or even living arrangements, who knows if you’re ever gonna see him again.

so you only hum lowly, closing the fridge behind you and leaving you both in darkness. the only source of light is from the moon outside, lighting up half the kitchen from the large bay window.

it leaves you both incredibly exposed, anyone from the outside able to see the two seemingly innocent bodies standing toe to toe with each other; but they don’t see the lustful looks and eyes full of desire, both of you so entrapped by the other, it’s obvious with the tension in the air.

“oh, well, then... it’s okay, mr. park,” you say with a smile, taking a step back as your eyes roam his chest one last time. “i didn’t mind.”

you’re about to say goodnight when you see his arm reach out, shocked but oh, so ready ready to give into your desire and feel your body crash against his or your lips connect finally.

moan into his mouth and feel more of his hardness against you - but he only takes the water from your hand, presses his mouth against the plastic rim and swigs down a big gulp.

you watch with wide eyes as his adam’s apple bobs in the moonlight, head tipped back and body perched calmly on the counter as he takes a swig of your water bottle, spit exchanged and his mouth right where yours was.

he pulls back with an unreadable expression, licking the excess water from his lips before simply closing the cap, holding out the bottle and smiling at you with the most wise-ass smirk you’ve ever seen, you’re not sure how you’re ever gonna one up this man.

"sweet dreams, y/n.”

strike 3:

your new years weekend get away turned into an extended stay that consisted of sleeping on a lumpy air mattress, five extra guests and so much alcohol, you’re positive you’re still hungover three days later.

“it wasn’t that... we only did a... i mean it wasn’t like we were....” eunbi says, the two of you laying on her bed nursing headaches and body aches to the severest degree.

“okay, it was pretty bad. we were kind of rowdy and out of control.”

“you don’t say?” you grumble, never one to black out and get that shit faced and then doing it nearly every night - maybe to deal with danny’s pathetic soft looks or whispered sweet nothings to you.

“nothing is working either. not advil or water or greasy food. we might’ve fucked ourselves for life, bi.”

but if there’s one thing that always helped for eunbi, it was a nice, long bath. steaming hot water that burned her skin and the prettiest bath bombs to make the entire bathroom smell of strawberries and cream.

so even though you didn’t want to, nothing more comfortable than eunbi’s king size bed and warm, fluffy comforter, you allowed the girl to drag you to the bathroom down the hall to set up ‘your last resort, hangover paradise.’

it consisted of every type of bath bomb and lotion and bubble bath the luxurious could dream of, sending her out immediately when you saw her sneaking in with a glass of champagne.

“are you crazy?” you ask, dipping your toe in the water to test the temperature. “that’s what started this disaster.”

“fine, more for me!” she squeals happily, turning down the lights and pressing the bluetooth button for your phone’s music. “enjoy. i’ll see you in an hour, completely hangover free.”

“we’ll see about that,” you grumble, your words falling on deaf ears as she locks and closes the door to makes her way back to her ensuite.

and as much as you wanna give eunbi shit for her pompous tactics and techniques for everything in life, you have to say that this is certainly helping.

soaking in the steaming hot water, with cucumbers on your eyes and quiet music playing through the ceiling speakers. the jets in the tub also added another layer of relaxation to it, healing your sore muscles from days of waking up on a hard, wooden floor.

the mirrors were steamed and the room was boiling by the time you got out, stepping on the fuzzy bath mat and drying yourself off with a towel. you had tried not to get your hair wet but it proved useless, your relaxed body sinking further and further down until nearly your whole head was wet.

you stretch your arms above your head as you let out a content groan, feeling the best you’ve felt in three days and ready to take a nap.

but it’s at that moment, looking around the large steaming bathroom, that you realized you didn’t bring a change of clothes in. meaning you’ll know have to walk done the hall and into eunbi’s room in just a towel.

it’s fairly late, almost 11:30, so you’re hoping that her parents are in their rooms and fast asleep by now.

you peak your head out, feeling like a spy in a cheesy action movie as you look up and down the hall. you turn off the light once the coast is clear, walking quietly but quickly down to eunbi’s room - or wing, as it could be considered

you’re almost out of the gate, just a few more steps until you round the corner down eunbi’s hallway, when seonghwa’s tall figure is coming right up the stairs.

his head is down as he looks at his phone, still in his dress shirt and tie from his long day at work. you noticed that after the holidays, he’s been around the house less - working from home when he can but also needing to go into the office more often than not.

he’s at the top of the stairs when he finally notices your figure watching him, wrapped in a towel with a flush on your cheeks and your wet hair dripping on the floor.

it seems to be the thing to break him right now, not able to tear his eyes away or think of any fun, flirty comments to keep you from suppressing the need to roll your eyes.

because his days have been long and stressful and the only thing he needs right now is to just get off - and then there you are like something his prayers have answered, standing there quiet and awestruck at the sight of his loose tie and messy black hair he’s been running his hands through all day.

“h-hi, mr. park,” your quiet voice says, sweet and soft-spoken and utterly apologetic, like you’re embarrassed to be caught in just your towel - and he supposes that would make sense, to feel embarrassed about getting caught like this your friend’s father.

but he can’t find it in himself to care right now, two seconds away from dragging you down to his office so he can finally fuck you over his desk - but he knows that would be the worst decision in the world, for countless reasons.

“hi, y/n,” he grumbles back just as low, leant against the railing with a voice that sounds defeated and gruff.

“are you okay?” you ask, something about his voice and demeanor off.

he has to hold back a strangled laugh, his lips quirking up before he bites down on his lip.

“i’m... i’m fine, thanks. work’s just busy,” he says, a certain part of his chest warming at the fact you even asked - he knows his wife won’t when he walks in their bedroom in a few minutes.

“oh, okay,” you respond, twirling with the end of your towel nervously. “well... i’m sorry to hear that.”

he allows himself to let out a chuckle this time, shaking his head as he looks over your bare, wet face; you’re too pretty for your own good, he’s not even sure you realize just how pretty you are.

just how much he really wants you and just how much he’s coming to like seeing you in his house everyday.

“it’s alright, that’s why you gotta do something you love, right?” he quips, his long fingers up to recreate a camera, pressing down as if to snap a photo.

it cause you to let out a soft, genuine giggle, nodding your head and easing the slight embarrassment of him catching you in a towel.

“right,” you say with a smile, shy smiles and gazes shared until you finally look away in fear of your cheeks warming again.

but it doesn’t stop him from admiring the view of you, your bare face and exposed chest before the towel covers up all the parts he wants to so desperately explore.

he pictures dropping your towel and hearing it fall to the floor with a plop, take in the sight of your perky boobs and hard nipples in the air.

drop his mouth just a little bit to your neck, pressing small kisses against your skin as his fingers knead your nipples, all the quiet moans and breaths to make sure you two don’t get caught shooting right to his cock.

he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself, sliding a finger into you right then and there in the middle of the hallway, pressing your back against the wall to have you trapped against his larger body.

he’d pump his finger in and out of you slowly and tauntingly, hearing how wet you are and feeling how tight you are. it’d be similiar to how this past month has just been both of you taunting and teasing and beating around the bush, occasionally letting his fingers curl to his your g-spot or graze your sensitive clit.

and then he’d drop to his knees to taste you. make sure he sucks and licks and takes your clit in his warm mouth that you’re-

“i should get back to eunbi,” you finally say, breaking the silence and ripping him from his dirty, hidden fantasies. you can’t take the lust and desire in his eyes that you see when he looks at you, an painful ache building between your legs more and more.

“goodnight, mr. park.”

you nearly run into eunbi’s room and slam the door had you not seen her sleeping form, passed out right there in the middle of her bed wearing a baby pink robe.

you look beside her to see an extra one laid out, a silky lilac one that causes a small smile to cross your face.

you’ve never felt material like this on your skin, basking in the feeling of the smooth, silky material as you clean up her room quietly - both to tidy up and distract you from the ache in your legs and last encounter with her father.

for eunbi growing up with housekeepers and nannies her whole life, it always surprised you how clean and tidy your roommate was; the sink was never full of dishes and you alternated vacuuming the living room carpet.

but it’s obvious all of that is a facade because since the moment she got home, her messy ways have shown through - you find it endearing, though, and it’s all very eunbi: a homey, lived in mess of luxurious items and articles of clothing worth more than your childhood home.

the girl in question had moved to the right side in her sleep as you cleaned, a quiet chuckle leaving your mouth. you look to see both your water bottles are empty, deciding on the brave decision to go downstairs to grab two new ones.

the last time you’d done that, you thought for sure mr. park was gonna jump your bones - and you know you were gonna let him.

your mind is littered with memories of that night as you make your way through the dark house of twists and turns, carefully going down the stairs as you walk toward the kitchen.

there’s a room with beautiful double doors on your left, a room you’ve walked past hundreds of times throughout your stay here. eunbi told you it was her dad’s first floor office, where he usually worked and had his meetings from home.

the first thing you notice from down the hall is that the door is slightly cracked open, a peak in from the dimly lit kitchen showcasing some fancy decor of a globe.

as you make your way closer and closer, your ears are met with a quiet, strangled groan that causes you to stop in your tracks; your mind begins to race with a million different scenarios of what you could be walking past right now.

your first thought is that you’re about to see mr. and mrs. park in a very compromising position over his desk - and, as sick as it sounds, as delusional and crazy and absurd as it sounds, that prospect makes your stomach sink and twist painfully.

but that would be normal, you suppose; they’re a fucking married couple after all and seonghwa had seemed stressed from work. obviously he was gonna ask his wife to help calm him down and relax him.

get all of his stress out in the form of-

you shake your head before you can even think about it, forcing your feet to move past the office doors.

and it’s like you can’t even stop yourself from peeking in, confirming to see if your thoughts are correct and you’re about to be gutted, when you take in the sight before you.

seonghwa still in his loose tie and white dress shirt, pants around his ankles and his head thrown back in his office chair as his own hand jerks his cock off.

everything about it is dirty and wrong and you know you shouldn’t be looking in but you can’t stop.

you can’t stop watching the way his hand works around his cock expertly, long and thick and so fucking nice it nearly makes you drool. the thought of you on your knees before him, taking him in your mouth and licking and sucking around the tip, making you bite back a moan.

you can’t stop your eyes from looking at his face, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut with his neck on display - perfect for you to bite and give hickies, if you were on top straddling him.

you can’t stop the painful ache and wetness seeping in your thong as you watch him get off, his groans and grunts and heavy breaths making you wanna whine out in arousal.

and it’s that suppression right there, getting so worked up and horny over the sight of your peeping tina activities, that cause you to pull yourself away.

because as much as you don’t want to and as much as you wanna help him, you can’t.

you can only scramble into the kitchen and get water as fast and quiet as humanly possible, scurrying past the office and up the stairs with the stealthiness of a lion.

you can only lay in bed with the thoughts of your roommate’s father and the noises he makes, the sight of his cock and the hand movements replaying over and over in your mind.

and you realize that night, with only a few more days until you both have to leave for the spring semester, you can only hope to never see mr. park again.

let this flirtation and fascination and utterly screwed up infatuation with your roommate’s dad be nothing but a dirty memory you’ll keep to yourself for the rest of your life.

because if it’s not, if you have to see him again and have him in your daily life again, you won’t be able to hold yourself back.

your lust will turn deeper and you’ll find yourself in a much bigger issue than damp underwear and secret, forbidden moments with mr. park seonghwa.

you should’ve known with only two days left of your stay that eunbi was gonna let the news slip.

you were at least grateful for the fact that mrs. park had a charity ball with her clan of “botox getting, bitchy sounding gold diggers who need to desperately get laid,” successfully riding her of your last friday night dinner.

“so you girls don’t want a new apartment then?” seonghwa asked, glass of wine in his hand as he looks at the two of you questioningly. “that building’s looking for a new owner, eunbi, i think it’d be perfect for you both.”

“dad don’t be ridiculous, we can’t own the building!” eunbi says, swatting her dad playfully as she shovels a piece of food in her mouth. she’s casual and comfortable without her mom’s prying eyes and biting tone, her foot resting on the white fabric beneath her.

“and besides, i might be alone in there soon. we still don’t know if y/n is gonna be starting her-”

you kick the girl under the table roughly, her face pulling into a wince as a cry leaves her mouth.

“ow, y/n! what the he-”

but it’s upon seeing your white face and annoyed expression that she realizes what she said, her mouth falling open and silent as she looks at you apologetically.

“oh shit...”

you can only shoot her a pained, sarcastic smile, daringly looking at seonghwa who’s watching the two of you with a curious expression.

“what do you mean?”

silence hangs in the air, you and eunbi sharing side eyes and dejected looks with her dad before he cocks an eyebrow at the both of you.

“girls... what do you mean?” he asks, his voice deeper and more serious, taking on a dad-like tone eunbi isn’t used to hearing from her relaxed, playful father.

and that’s when, before eunbi can open her big mouth any further, you calmly and regretfully explain the situation with your scholarship.

how you got an e-mail a few months ago about alternate funding for the art department and that you were one of the many students who, while keeping up your end of requirements, could not be awarded money.

“it’s awful that they can do that,” seonghwa says, his eyes full of the same sympathy and outrage eunbi’s held - except he knows that this happens all the time. that it’s unfair and sick and a big ploy in the education system that needs incredible reform.

especially when it hurts students like you.

“yeah but it is what it is,” you say, trying your hardest to steer the conversation to literally anything but this (in fear that you’ll scream or start crying or have yet another anxiety attack).

“i can just finish up in the fall, it’s no big deal,” you lie through our teeth, a sad smile on your face as you look at eunbi. “i’m just sorry it messes up our combined graduation party.”

a frown crosses eunbi’s face as she smacks you in the arm, pulling you closer to her just so she could cuddle herself into your arm.

“i will wait for you,” she proclaims dramatically, a pout on her lips and starry-eyed look in her gaze. “i will wait as long as i have to. if they delay it any further, father, you will simply have to sue the school.”

“father, huh?” seonghwa hums lowly, his lips quirking into a smirk.

father is the term eunbi uses when she wants to use him and his money, whether it be blackmailing unfair teachers or shitty students or calling for him when her and her mom are fighting.

“yes, father,” she says, looking to you with a sweet, apologetic smile on her face.

“i’m serious, y/n. we got your back,” she quips with a wink, a pained smile on your face that she knows means you can’t wait to let her have it when you two are alone.

“you had one job, eunbi, and you were doing so good,” you say in her room later that night, pacing back and forth as she sits on her bed like a scolded child. “literally two nights left and you let it slip out!”

“i’m sorry, okay!” she whines for the ninth time, a pout on her face as she plays with fingers; you wanna roll your eyes seeing it, knowing for a fact that’s something she does when she’s in trouble with jiwoon.

“i didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!” she begins to defend, “and it was only my dad! he wouldn’t dare say a bad word about you, y/n, he loves you.”

you ignore the twinge in your chest when you hear her say those words, feeling a tad guilty at the bodily reaction you have about her own father. how much you’re hiding from her and that you have these suppressed feelings and secret moments in the first place.

“loves me or not, bad word or not, it’s still embarrassing, eunbi,” you say, a frown on your lips as you start to hear the situation aloud. 

“i still can’t pay for my tuition and have to wait almost a whole year to take a degree in fucking photography. like how embarrassing is that, all of this just for me never find a job and live in a box.”

you’ve only seen a flash of anger on eunbi’s face a few times in your life, the incident with the dorm girls and her dad and when a sorority girl tried to kiss jiwoon at the bar.

and you see it right now, her small but mighty frame jumping off the bed and lunging toward you quickly.

“are you kidding me!” she squeals, smacking you in the arm and pushing you down on the bed.

“what the hell do you mean a degree in fucking photography? or living in a box? you’re gonna be the best photographer in the world and shoot every event in my life and charge me quadruple the amount!”

a smile pulls at your lips as you hear her go on and on, hype you up and build up your confidence and tell you to never talk that way about yourself again. how there’s nothing embarrassing about not being able to afford thousands of dollars when you were alerted about the expense on such short notice.

“okay, okay, i know that,” you eventually give in, letting out a sigh as you flop down on her bed. “it’s just.... stressful. i can’t move back home but i also need to get like, a real job. a job that’s gonna pay well so i can save up as much as possible.”

“and we’ll find you that when we get back,” she says, assuring with a confident look in her eye and her hands in yours. “i can promise you, with or without my father’s connections, we’re getting you a job.”

her words prove to reassure you for the remainder of the night, when, after she kisses your ass a little more, asks if she can go to jiwoon’s for a little.

you spent that time in her room looking at nearby job offerings and building up your resume and cover letters, working well into the night hours with a text from jiwoon that she fell asleep and will be back in the morning.

you stretch your arms above your head with a quiet groan, noting it’s almost one o’clock and you’re fucking parched yet again.

it’s no surprise to you when the lights in the kitchen are on, dimly light and no noise around as you pad your way to the fridge.

you almost expect the footsteps that come in a few moments later, when you take a sip from your water and close the fridge without hesitation.

“have you told your parents about tuition?”

you’re confused by the statement that leaves seonghwa’s mouth, brows pulled together and a sinking feeling in your stomach at this conversation again - because as if tuition wasn’t enough, he just had to bring up your parents.

but you don’t wanna beat around the bush any longer; you two seem to do that enough.

“me and my parents don’t talk,” you say, straight forward and quiet as you look right at him.

it’s the first time he sees you look a little broken and defeated, a certain kind of sadness shining behind your eyes that makes him wanna pull him into you. it feels like a protective instinct he’s used to, caring for the people in his life and not wanting to see them struggle.

“they wouldn’t help me anyway.”

this protective instinct feels a little different in this moment, something else tugging in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time - not until he started seeing you more.

“but it’d be a shame if you didn’t finish, y/n. you got so far and you’ve done so well for yourself.”

you smile a little at the praise, tongue rolling over your lips in a way he certainly doesn’t miss - but this moment isn’t about that. it’s not something he cares even a little bit about right now.

“thank you, mr. park, but i am gonna finish,” you say with finality, the confident and sure tone making a strange sort of pride swell inside of him.

“i just have to save up money and i’ll start in the fall. it’s really not that big of a deal,” you tell him with a smile, taking a few steps back so you don’t feel too crowded by him.

“eunbi’s gonna help me look for jobs when i get back,” you say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you look at him. “a big girl job. something real and hard, that’s gonna make me super stressed and agitated.”

so much so that i have to get off at the thought of you.

a deep chuckle bubbles out of him that you match with ease, the two of you sharing small smiles and quiet giggles in the middle of this spotless, white kitchen.

“can’t do what you love quite yet, i guess,” seonghwa says, his eyes roaming your face so slowly and carefully, it makes you a tad bit nervous.

you hadn’t realized how natural and easy this conversation was between you two, like you were talking to someone you’d known your whole life opposed to someone you’ve barely known for four years.

his hand itches to reach up and touch your hair, tuck the soft, silky looking strand behind your ear and watch your cheeks heat up when your skin touches; but instead, he smiles down at you, inching closer until he’s just looming over you and staring down at you with a soft, undetectable look in his eye.

“but it’ll be worth it in the end, i think. it’s just gonna... take some time.”

you lick over our lips, throat and mouth suddenly so incredibly dry, as you nod your head.

“yeah, i think so, too,” you say, your lips smushing together nervously before you open your mouth to speak again - this could be one of the last times you’re alone with him.

“thank you for letting me stay with you guys, mr. park. it’s been... really nice spending time with people for the holidays.”

he feels his heart twinge in his chest again, his eyes falling down to your lips and swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life.  

“of course, y/n, it’s been a pleasure,” he says, a smile quirking at his lips with a hint of something you just can’t quite make out. “maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

it was five days before classes started that you got the confirmation e-mail - a message confirming your tuition for the spring semester was paid in full and your current balance was $0.

you had to look over the message for three whole hours making sure you had read the e-mail correctly, even going as far to call the bursar office to make sure they had the correct address.

but they had confirmed with surety that your balance was paid off, urging you to quickly sign up for the classes you need before the day was over.

“okay, you will never believe what interview i was able to score for you,” eunbi says the moment she walks in the apartment, shopping bags up her arm and gucci sunglasses perched atop her head.

“i’ll admit, the vibe was a little off with the coworkers but i think it’d be a great opportunity to-” her eyes catch your laptop screen on the school website, a list of classes and times on your screen that causes her eyes to widen.

“oh?” she squeals, running over and throwing herself down on the couch beside you. “what the heck are you doing? are you... did you...?”

the lie came way too quick and easy to you, excitedly blabbering out that there was a change in the system and your scholarship was approved - “i think they felt bad that i was a graduating senior,” you said, eunbi’s face pulled into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.

she clapped and danced and bounced around in excitement, proclaiming you guys just had to go out and get drinks to celebrate the fact that your surprise party was back on.

but you could only sit there with your thoughts and suspicions and this overwhelming feeling deep within your stomach that, while eunbi definitely doesn’t know, her father might’ve just paid your college tuition in full.

(part 2)

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii @songsoomin @reeateez @biaswreckingfics @yunhoiseyecandy @sophrosyneeeee @uglychildd @happycandynoelle @seolarjk @liqhtiny @maedesculpaeusoubi @revehosh @svt-mangos @hcwurld @ateezappreciation @sanisms​ @khjssss​ @yixing-jaehyun​ @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek​

couldn’t tag: @ateez-after-dark @arkive78 

#alright here we go again #shes up fr now jfdkvkd #seonghwa #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa imagines #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #seonghwa series #ateez series

[minniepetals]

Rose & Thorns: 10

— summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

— pairing: dragon!bts x reader

— genre: angst / slight fluff / poly!au / fantasy!au / dragon!au

— word count: 8.0k

— warnings: none

╰ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

You stood in the hall of the castle on the left of Namjoon while Hoseok stood on his right, faces grim and serious as you could feel all eyes on you with the intriguing fact that a Keeper was in their clan, a Keeper the clans haven’t had since hundreds of years ago. None of them were alive to live through the years when the first Keeper had been chosen so to know that another Keeper was made was quite fascinating to them, you were sure.

But you could also tell that some dragons still doubted your loyalty, knowing fully well how many of them did not have good histories with your kind. But you weren’t going to let them faze you. Namjoon often reminded you to look confident no matter how much they may scare you. After all, looking small and vulnerable in front of the dragons would only give them more doubt and you knew you had to gain their trust and show them that you were capable of being a Keeper more than anything.

As the steps of the leader of the Southern Clan began to echo into the room and the whispering voices died down, Namjoon took his respective bow with you and Hoseok automatically following along, heads lowered in respect as you stared at the floor below you.

It was nerve wracking being in a room full of dragons you had never seen before but you knew you had to remain strong.

“Prince Namjoon.” Surprisingly the voice was light and friendly as the prince spoke your leader’s name. He rose upon the call of his name with you and Hoseok following and could see the kind smile prince Daesung was giving him. “Welcome to our Clan.”

“Thank you,” Namjoon gave him a short nod before his gaze fell to Hoseok.

“Prince Hoseok.”

“Your highness.”

“And,” he turned his head your way and the moment his eyes met yours, you could see the way his eyes widened a little, falling silent at the sight of you with a delicate hand coming up to cover his mouth. “Oh my,” he whispered in a small gasp, blinking one moment before breaking into a bright smile that practically lit up the entire room and the next thing you knew he had rushed in front of you with his hands grabbing ahold of yours, squeezing it tight. “You didn’t tell me she was so adorable!” The prince squealed with delight, surprising you with a sudden embrace that caught you off guard and your eyes were quick to dart to your dragons with a flustered expression plastered onto your face.

The way their eyes darkened slightly almost brought shivers down your spine.

“Human girls are the cutest thing ever! I can’t believe I’m finally meeting one in real life!! Tell me!” He backed away just enough to face you again as you could feel yourself blushing at how close he was. “Keeper of the Dragons, what is your name, dear one?”

“U-uh,” you stuttered, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the close proximity but knowing not to be rude in his presence, “Y..Y/N.”

You thought his eyes had lit up even more. “What a pretty name! You’re so—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Hoseok quickly stepped in to grab you by the shoulder and pulled you back to his arms with a displeased look on his face. “Prince Daesung. Whether she is a human or not, you must remember that our Keeper is still a lady.”

“Oh my.” Totally ignoring Hoseok’s warnings, prince Daesung could only wiggle more with excitement as his eyes returned to you again. “I know jealousy when I see it and I must say, to woo the seven princes of the East Clan is quite a bold move of yours, precious Y/N.”

“Huh?” You began to panic as your hands came up to wave with denial. “No, I-I didn’t—”

“Not that I’m saying it’s a bad thing. I would do the same if I had the pretty looks you do. How’d they find such an adorable face such as yourself? Or did you find them first? I’m sure these possessive dragons stole you away to make you fall in love with them, didn’t they?”

“W-wait! They didn’t—”

“Prince Daesung, stop teasing the little one already.” Namjoon let out a tired sigh.

“I can’t help it!” The prince chortled with a sly grin. “She’s even more pretty when she blushes so easily like that.”

You could see his followers looking away or hanging their heads in shame at their prince’s words and you realized that you were totally baited by the South Clan’s leader, making you even more embarrassed than before.

As if reading your thoughts, Hoseok gave you a squeeze. “Don’t worry. Prince Daesung likes to spew nonsense so don’t take him too seriously.”

Offended, prince Daesung gave out a dramatic gasp. “Rude!”

“Forgive me for the impolite behavior of my dear brother.” You turned at the sound of the voice that was laced with poised to find a young lady a few feet taller than you. She had her head bowed with a hand rested against her heart, showing both grace and a dignified manner and you could tell almost immediately who she was after learning a few things about the South Clan. “Are you alright, milady?” Princess Soyeon asked with a slight concern as she addressed you.

“Yes, your highness,” you told her with a small smile, a bit taken back by how different the two siblings were.

She returned the smile with her own before turning to her brother with a displeased glare. “Not only is Y/N a lady but she is also the sole Keeper of the Dragons. You cannot disrespect the lady like that.”

Her scolding made prince Daesung look away with a pout. “You cannot expect me to ignore the cute.”

“Would you like to feel the wrath of our neighboring princes as well?”

Though the prince did not respond to that as he refused to meet his sister’s glare, you cocked your head slightly to the side with confusion upon her words. “Wrath?”

Princess Soyeon looked back at you with softer eyes and a faint smile as she eyed your two princes. “Us dragons are very possessive creatures. If anyone tries to touch our treasures, it may turn into conflicts. They may not look like it but I am sure prince Namjoon and prince Hoseok weren’t exactly fond of my brother touching you.”

You looked over your shoulder at the two of them who stood tall behind you and found Namjoon meeting your eyes with a slight raise to his brow almost as if confirming the assumption of the princess, making your cheeks warm up again.

“Again, please forgive my brother. I will make sure he does not do anything to offend you again.”

“Ah, it…” you shook your head with a smile, “it’s alright.”

“Now then,” with a sudden clap echoing into the large room, prince Daesung began to dismiss the members of his clan. “You’ve gotten a good look at our dear Keeper and see that she is a beautiful lady and anyone beautiful is worth trusting so—”

“Our relationship with the Eastern Clan is clear enough to show that we have no reason to mistrust them,” princess Soyeon stated in a loud, clear voice as she totally ignored the voice of her brother who responded with a glare of his own. But even though she had interrupted him, he let her go on to address the crowd. “We all know that the only way a human can become a Keeper is through the will of our own ancestors and we know never to question their decisions. If they have chosen Y/N as the new Keeper of the Dragons then that is the decision that we must accept. If anyone has any problem with that, know that you will be going against our own ancestors.”

Her voice, so poised and filled with charisma, was enough to let her warriors know that she wasn’t going to tolerate anyone that would go against having you as their Keeper and for that, you felt so thankful to the princess.

Once the room finally cleared away and all that was left were the five of you along with a few trusted warriors of the Southern Clan, you knew it was all business now.

“Your highnesses,” Namjoon began and it was enough to let the princess understand what he wanted to discuss.

She turned to follow her brother as she spoke and the rest of you followed along to their steps. “I am sure you must be wanting to discuss the agreement between the three clans upon accepting the Keeper.”

“That’s correct,” he gave a firm nod.

You walked beside Hoseok, silently listening in as your nerves began to reappear once again. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy even if the South Clan seemed friendly but you hoped things would work out well in the end.

“The other clans may not be as lenient but we do not plan on using Y/N for all of the wars that will be fought in the future,” she was quick to assure. “Whether she is a Keeper or not, we will not lay so low as to use someone outside of our clan as a tool in order to fight our wars.”

“Besides,” chiming in, you met the eyes of the prince as he looked over his shoulder for a brief moment and sent you a smirk, “who would want to send a beautiful lady into the battlegrounds?” He turned back again, sounding a little more exasperated this time. “However, we all know prince Hyungwoo and prince Seojoon aren’t going to be as kind as us.”

As the door to a room opened up, you all walked into their meeting hall and immediately took your seats in order to continue discussing.

“The princes of the North and West know not to reject a Keeper but you must be prepared for what challenges they will have you facing.”

You tilted your head slightly to the side at princess Soyeon. “Challenges?”

“To see how powerful you can be.”

“They won’t do anything unethical now will they?” Hoseok frowned.

“If they realize the little one has joined your little circle of lovers then perhaps they will take not offending you more into account,” prince Daesung opined with a light shrug. “But the two of them are quite unpredictable, especially prince Hyungwoo of the North, so it’s best to keep your guard up. Prince Seojoon is rational but it’s hard to please that man.” He propped his elbow upon the grand table, resting his chin onto his hand as he looked at you with sympathetic eyes. “Be careful, dear Y/N, dragons can be quite prideful and if someone comes in to threaten their position in this little game of ours, it can get a little nasty.”

You could feel a shiver running down your spine but it fell away too soon as you felt Hoseok’s hand suddenly holding yours. When you turned your head towards him, he graced you with a kind smile. “There’s no need to be afraid, we’ll be right there with you,” he whispered softly, allowing your heart to relax again.

“Major wars do not occur very often,” princess Soyeon added truthfully, “and if they do, we often deal with it on our own with our own dragons. But if there is ever an emergency that forces us to seek help, I hope that you will allow us to call for you.”

“Of course,” you gave her a firm nod with a determined gaze. “I will be prepared for the day I am asked to help fight the wars.”

She returned the nod just as firmly before letting herself relax just for a moment to spare you a small smile. “Thank you, Keeper, and thank you princes of the East for finding her.”

It was their unquestioned trust in you that made you believe in yourself more.

.

.

“What are you thinking about?”

The prince had allowed your stay in the South as the sun was already beginning to set by the time the meeting was over and as you sat on the grand bed prepared for you and your princes, Namjoon took a seat beside you after changing into proper sleepwear, wondering why you looked so distant all on your own.

You didn’t want to bother them with your concerns so you shook your head lightly with a faint smile thrown his way to try and ease the tension that hadn’t faded from the moment the three of you left the Eastern mountains.

“Right now it feels just right to take up prince Daesung’s offer to stay here a while longer and postpone our travel plans for the West and North, doesn’t it? I know you’re anxious,” Hoseok said with a wry smile as he went on to sit beside you on your other side.

“But,” Namjoon took ahold of your hand and placed it on top of his palm where it rested upon his lap, and began to rub small circles on the back of your hand as a way of comfort, “I know you miss the others and cannot wait to go home.”

How was it that they knew you so well? You could still recall those moments when they couldn’t trust a word you said and had treated you poorly but looking at them at this moment, you could find nothing but love in their eyes and that alone warmed your cold, anxious heart.

“It hasn’t even been a day,” you lamented as your eyes cast down to the gentle hands that were still caressing yours. “I miss them so much.”

“You’re right,” Hoseok said in a soft manner as he thought back to that morning the three of you took your leave and placed an arm over your shoulders with a small squeeze. “It isn’t often we go our separate ways outside of our lands.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Namjoon said, nodding. “There are some of us who haven't even seen the world outside our own lands despite being princes.”

Your eyes widened a bit at the revelation. “No way. Who?”

“Jimin and Taehyung.”

“Why is that?”

“Jimin looks after our prisoners, as you know, so it really doesn’t matter much to him because he’s sadly almost always in the dungeons. As for Taehyung, the younger one has to look after the little ones so he doesn’t get out much either,” explained Hoseok. It made sense, you should have known of those facts before they even told you but it still made it sad to be able to hear of the two of them being stuck in the clan everyday.

“So what are the occasions when traveling outside our lands?” You asked them.

Namjoon gave you a small grin. “Well for one, meetings like these. But I have meetings with the clan leaders every full moon. Usually Yoongi will accompany me on those nights. That’s why some days we go missing and are nowhere to be found inside the clan. Seokjin travels if he needs to find special herbs or wishes to learn more about plants and remedies that don't exist on our lands.”

“Those are what he calls his errands,” Hoseok said almost in a whisper as he sent you a wink, causing your mouth to form into a little circle at the epiphany.

“That’s why he takes so long and sometimes comes back so late? I would have loved to accompany him on those journeys.”

They both shared a chuckle.

“You’ve had some bad encounters when leaving the clan, I’m sure hyung only left you out for your sake,” Hoseok explained gently as he stroked your hair before proceeding on. “Jungkook and I sometimes have to do secret patrols that take place outside our lands. Only a very few of us know of that though. They’re sort of like secret investigations to get information on whether a smaller clan will be wanting to rise against us or not in order to prepare for or avoid any future wars.”

“But as you can see, we’ve managed to avoid war for a long time now.”

“Though it doesn’t guarantee the fact that we won’t be going to war again at all.”

As you stared down at your lap, the distressed look on your face made the mood drop as your two princes shared a look of understanding, knowing exactly what you are worried about.

Namjoon lightly squeezed the hand that he held onto as he began to speak again. “I know I cannot promise you that there will be no wars in the future and that even if there is a war that does not concern our clan, you may be called in to be involved as Keeper, but I can promise you that you will never be alone.”

You looked up at him with sad eyes just thinking about the wars that you all would have to face in order to protect your own people.

But Namjoon did not back away from your fear and held onto a gentle smile. “Perhaps it may not be enough to just tell you that you will not be alone but I speak for all of the dragons in our clan when I say this, Y/N. Whether it is a war fought for our own lands or a war you will be called into as Keeper for the other clans, our dragons will be right behind you guarding you at all sides. As a follower, as a friend, as a lover, and as dragons of the Eastern Clan. We are here for you.”

Upon those words that were given unto you, you knew that you could trust them with your life just as you trusted the two of them. It had been a long journey from the moment you and Jungkook escaped your old village and flew into their clan. Many things happened but as time changed, so did their hearts. You were a trusted keeper now, a human your clan believed in without a doubt so it was your turn to put your faith in them.

The journey beyond was still long but you knew you’d be alright as long as they were by your side.

“I love you,” you confessed and their eyes softened.

You were held in between the two of them, huddled so close, making you feel safe and sound and that alone allowed you to believe that everything would be alright.

.

.

“Greetings to the prince of the Western Clan.”

The air felt thicker, more tense than it was during that moment where you stood tall in front of the Southern Clan. The Western Clan was not as friendly looking as the Southern Clan but you knew that they valued law and order so although a part of you was filled with anxiety standing before the prince, you also understood that prince Seojoon wasn’t going to be someone who would judge someone that easily just because of their descendants.

“Greetings to the princes of the Eastern Clan,” he returned the formal bow, face as expressionless and as stoic as you’d been warned about. When he turned to look your way, you couldn’t tell what was on his mind. All you knew was that what he saw before him was a simple human girl claiming to be the Keeper of the Dragons.

What did he think of you? Perhaps in his eyes you looked like a frail, weak, human girl who should have never associated herself with the dragons.

It was hard being tested back in the Eastern Clan itself when you first arrived. Many of the dragons hated you at the time but you never let it get to you and tried your best to do what your heart had told you to do. Whether the dragons would accept you or not, you just had to continue doing the job you were meant to do with a golden heart.

If you show weakness, if you let their words and judgement hurt you, you would only look like someone who was not worthy of the Keeper title and that was something you knew you absolutely could not do. You couldn’t taint the reputation of the Eastern Clan, you couldn’t let the other clans shame them. If Namjoon gave you that title because he believed in you and the dragon ancestors accepted you then you had to live up to all of their expectations no matter how unclear the journey before you may lie.

When you greeted the eyes of prince Seojoon whose face revealed no sign of anything, a part of you was still afraid. But you kept your head held up high and perhaps because of that strong facade, his expression did not harden when he met your eyes.

“Keeper.” His voice was rather normal. No tone of disgust, no amount of hatred bleeding through the tip of his tongue. He greeted you as if you were an equal with a short bow and a small nod of acknowledgement.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be seen as something special but you knew and many of the dragons knew that that itself meant that prince Seojoon wasn’t going to reject you as the Keeper.

“Seojoon.” At the call of his name falling out of Namjoon’s lips, the Western prince returned his focus back on the leader of the Eastern Clan.

For a moment all was quiet and tense as the two of them stared at one another as if sending telepathic messages to each other with looks alone. You stood there beside Hoseok, waiting for one of them to break the long silence but it seemed as if none of the two were willing to do so.

You didn’t know much about the history between the two princes nor understood much of what their relationship was but what you did know was that between the two leaders of the Eastern and Western Clan, though they may have once fought from time to time long before Jungkook was captured by your former village, the two of them had this silent mutual respect for one another.

And perhaps that was one of the reasons why prince Seojoon was willing to be the one to break first.

“I was surprised when I received your letter, Namjoon,” he began without so much of a blink in his eyes. “Out of all the crown princes who have taken their positions on the thrones, I never thought you out of the four of us would choose to trust a human and grant them the title of a Keeper. In fact, I always believed you to be the last one to ever be willing.”

Standing tall and proud with no sign of remorse, Namjoon spoke with the same resolve. “It is true that my actions were indeed unexpected but my decisions were not made solely on feelings alone.”

“You are not one to easily trust a human,” the Western prince acknowledged, “so I will trust in the decision you have made. The ancestors have, as it seems, deemed her worthy of the position. However, that does not mean I will blindly put my faith in someone I do not know. Until the Keeper can prove her worth, I will be on the neutral side on neither accepting nor refusing the new Eastern Clan member.”

Prove your worth.

He wanted you to prove your worth as a Keeper in order to accept you as someone needed in the dragan clans. You weren’t sure how to do that, you weren’t even sure how you were going to be someone of good help to the four major clans. Namjoon believed in you and so did the other six, but at the moment their support did not mean much until you could find the strength within yourself to accept the role.

Prince Seojoon was right, you had to prove your worth. But not just for the clans but for your own self as well.

The past years have always treated you horribly, a human woman who had no place anywhere with no purpose in life. Now that you were given such a high honor and set at the center of the dragons, the new profound responsibilities could only make you feel as if you were just another outcast again.

No.

Your princes believed in you and they’d go through any lengths to make sure you were safe and protected. They gave you a place in their clan, cared for you, and made sure everything was alright. It was time to stop hiding in their shadows and prove that you were indeed worthy of such an honorable title and be the one to protect instead.

You were a Keeper now. There was no time to dwindle and convince yourself otherwise.

Seeing the resolve in your eyes rather than shrinking in fear and hiding behind the princes of the Eastern Clan, prince Seojoon was a bit taken back by your strong gaze.

But...it wasn’t a look that he did not exactly hate.

Not bad, he thought, and hid the small look of approval behind his cold exterior.

.

.

“Your highness.”

Prince Seojoon stopped walking and turned slowly to find the Keeper who had not spoken even once during his audience with the Eastern Clan’s arrival. You bowed before him in a formal and elegant way, a voice too gentle and soft for a supposed warrior who would eventually have to be used in upcoming battles with the dragons, but he allowed himself not to judge someone based on the exteriors alone.

“What is it, Keeper?”

At least he was calling you by your title, you thought, and let out a hidden sigh before facing the prince with a dignified stance.

“I understand that the relationship between humans and dragons is not a strong one, but I also do not conceive of you as one who would wrongfully judge others based on the fact that I am human alone.”

“You do not, huh?” He replied with the same seriousness as you have written on your face.

“Forgive me if I am overstepping my boundaries but prince Namjoon himself has told me that you are one who sees the person before him as what they are as you see before your eyes. Neither past, race, gender, nor what they were born as will sway your mind into thinking otherwise.”

“And what are you to do with that information?”

You held your head high and met his eyes without falter, keeping in mind the words Namjoon had warned you about with how prince Seojoon did not like it when one spoke about proving oneself while cowering before his eyes. “If me proving my worth to the dragons is all that you want from me, then I will do all that I can to become a warrior that is worthy to everyone. I hope that someday you can faithfully put your trust in me as Keeper of the Dragons.”

Prince Seojoon took a moment to reply, the silence between the two of you lingering while you refused to back down upon his hard gaze otherwise he would never take your words seriously.

After a short while, he finally gave you a firm nod. “I trust that you will keep your words.”

“Yes, your highness.”

With that, the prince watched you walk away while he stood there, beginning to understand just a little bit of why the princes of the East have decided to keep you by their sides.

A brave soul, kind and gentle, but unaware of the power you held as a Keeper. One day you’d find your strength and courage walking into future wars that would call for you.

Like a rose who had yet to make use of her thorns.

.

.

“What are you worried about, hm? I’m pretty sure you just passed his test.”

“Test?” Your head was quick to perk up upon Namjoon’s words though those eyes of yours were still filled with an unspoken anxiety that kept weighing down your shoulders. “What are you talking about, Namjoon?”

“Seojoon isn’t as cruel as he portrays, he’s just a bit strict and serious when it comes to the future of the dragons.”

“You would know, you’re just like him,” Hoseok commented as a side remark, causing the leader to roll his eyes while you let out a small chuckle.

Hearing that, Namjoon’s brows furrowed as he sent you a pout. “You agree?”

There he was, a prince who was always seen as a strict leader to all, showing you a cute pout. “Well you were quite hard on me when I first walked into the clan,” you reminded the prince, causing him to let out a dry laugh.

“Right,” he cringed, not entirely liking the images of those memories walking into his head. Those days weren’t the greatest and they regretted it more than you could ever imagine but telling you those thoughts would only bring more weight on your shoulders and that was something they absolutely couldn’t do. So rather than dwelling on the negative thoughts, he approached the subject with a light tone. “If someone like me can be swayed into trusting a human once again, then Seojoon would have no problem following my footsteps.”

“Mhm,” agreed Hoseok, “Prince Seojoon is rational when it comes to judging people.”

“All you have to do is be yourself. He likes authenticity more than anything so you have no problem there.”

“I’m just,” you let out a soft sigh as you went on to hug yourself, head falling to the floor, eyes dropping with worry, “how do I prove my worth when I can’t even master my abilities as a Keeper yet?”

You felt arms wrapping themselves around you in a gentle manner, holding you close to his chest, and a soft kiss pressed to the crown of your head. “Wielding ones’ power takes time and patience but I know this, and Hoseok and the other five back at home know this.” He looked down into your eyes with a strong gaze of confidence and encouragement, meeting those anxious ones headstrong. “You can do it, Y/N. If you can turn your back on the village that was supposed to be your past, present, and future but failed you, if you can turn a blind eye on myths and legends about hideous monsters like us, if you can lend your strength towards the one that was meant to be your prisoner, rescue him, and still stay in a clan full of dragons that openly showed their distaste in you. If you can be framed for someone else’s wrongdoing, get locked up in the dungeons for months, then survive a fall off a high cliff with someone who didn’t even appreciate you and injuries all over your body...My love, you can do absolutely anything.”

“I mean look at yourself, pretty girl.” Taking your hand to pull you away from Namjoon, Hoseok held your hand in the air to twirl you around right there in the middle of the guest room. “Beautiful hands,” he pressed a kiss to back of your hand, “beautiful hair,” taking a few strands of your hair, he pressed a kiss to them, “beautiful forehead,” kisses to your forehead, “beautiful brows,” to your brows, “beautiful eyes,” two upon each eye, “beautiful nose,” to the tip of your nose, “beautiful lips,” he grinned at the sight of your cheeks blushing red and delivered a chaste kiss to them. “And a beautiful heart.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in close and pressed a kiss to the right of your chest before simply resting his chin atop your shoulder.

“On top of that you’re so strong,” Namjoon stated and held you from behind, his chin resting on your opposite shoulder with you wrapped in between their arms. “If there is anyone I can trust with the title of a Keeper, it’s you. Because that is your worth. You’re beautiful and kind and so, so strong.”

“We believe in you more than anything, little one. If you can do all those things and still keep your head up and face everything with a strong mind, you are worth more than anyone as the Keeper of the Dragons.”

“You’re going to be alright. You’re going to fail from time to time but you’ll keep at it without giving up hope because that’s what you’re best at doing. When everyone else has given up hope, you’re right there to smile through the rocky road and continue on without complaint.”

“And through it all, you won’t be alone.” With a kiss on your right cheek and a kiss to your left cheek, they whispered a promise that they’d never break. “We’ll be right here next to you.”

“So rely on us too, okay?” Namjoon said as he pressed another kiss to your temple. “We’re right here for you.”

.

.

“Welcome, princes of the Eastern Clan, and,” you could feel the Northern Prince’s eyes on you though you didn’t dare to look up unless he had given you permission to do so. With a light tone that hid a certain secret you couldn’t quite put a finger on, the prince greeted you. “Keeper of the Dragons, it is an honor to finally meet you.”

“The honor is mine, your highness,” you returned the formal words with a head still lowered before him.

“Now, now, we don’t have to act too formal with one another,” prince Hyungwoo spoke in an easygoing tone as he gave a small clap. “We are comrades who are inevitably meant to fight alongside each other, aren’t we?” He held a hand before you and when you looked up to meet the gaze of the Northern Prince, you could see the lopsided grin he had greeted you with, a feeling not going too well with you but how could you show rudeness to a prince of the four?

From your peripheral vision, you could see Namjoon and Hoseok who watched with the same caution and wariness but even they couldn’t do much being as you were in the territory of the Northern Clan. A cold, hard place in the snowy mountains.

Possessive or not, it was common courtesy.

So you let your hand fall into the prince’s palm. “Yes, your highness,” you said and with a satisfied twinkle in his eyes, he gave you a kiss atop the back of your hand.

“Your beauty is one that can defeat the enemies itself, Keeper. Tell me, what is your name?”

“My name is Y/N, your highness.”

“Y/N,” he repeated the name slowly along his tongue, waiting for a moment before letting your hand go and looking up to you with a small smirk curled along the corner of his lips, “can you wield a blade?”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“The dragons of the Eastern Clan are one of the best warriors who control both the skies and the land, notorious for being an undefeated clan who refuses to lose to even the smallest wars. Now that they’ve gained a Keeper in their possession, they only grow stronger.” The prince gave one small look towards Namjoon and Hoseok before resting his gaze on you again. “But the Keeper does not only belong to the Eastern Clan, now does she? So tell me, dear Y/N, in a world where dragons are fighting for power just as any human kingdom would, what skills do you have to offer us protection and victory in a battlefield that may cost the lives of many?”

You knew what he was trying to say, that the position you were given and the wars that were to come was not a child’s play. It was all serious business where each one of you would walk into the battlegrounds not knowing who would live and who would survive. Being a Keeper did not guarantee safety nor victory of the wars. It meant protecting the dragons and bringing them back home alive.

“Prince Hyungwoo, the Keeper was only made recently,” Hoseok tried to save you but the Northern prince wasn’t having it.

“All the more reasons to get her ready for such dangerous events. You can’t tell me you aren’t worried just because you have a Keeper by your side now, can you?” He asked, raising a brow at the two Eastern princes. “No. It is because she is the Keeper that makes you worried more than anything. Am I wrong?” Upon the silent response that he received, the prince went on. “I won’t go against the words of our ancestors, they have accepted our dear Y/N after all, but she wouldn’t be useful if we don’t put her to good use.”

A tool.

You could tell that was all the prince of the Northern Clan thought of you as. And not just him but many other dragons who did not know of you as Y/N but as the Keeper of the dragons. You were going to be made a pawn in their wars.

“Since it seems as if the Keeper does not have any particular skills just yet, why don’t we test a theory out?” He snapped his finger, looking right back at you and bringing shivers down your spine as you knew something good wasn’t going to come out of his mouth. “They say the Keeper is at their strongest when placed in a very emotional state of mind.”

“What are you trying to say?” The anger rising in Namjoon flashed in his eyes as he watched prince Hyungwoo but the prince chose to simply ignore his concerns, eyes holding yours with a sly grin.

“What causes your ire, dear Y/N?” He asked you so casually as if speaking about the weather. “What makes you so livid and upset that you can’t seem to control your own emotions? Think of something very unpleasant.” He inched forward your way, dangerous eyes staring straight into your soul. “Is it when a man you barely know of touches you and makes you uncomfortable?” He grabbed ahold of your wrist, a touch different from when he held your hand for a greeting.

You winced slightly, biting back your tongue in order to hide how uncomfortable you were as the images of Jinyoung flashed before you.

“Prince Hyungwoo,” Hoseok growled a low warning as both of your princes stepped up behind you.

But he didn’t let go. “Hmm, you don’t look like someone who would get angry for the sake of yourself. You look like you would explode if something were to happen to the ones you cared most about.”

You couldn’t hear a single thing he was saying with the tight grip on your wrist. The only thing you could see was Jinyoung, the man who only looked at you when you were finally made useful because you managed to tame a dragon. The love he claimed he had for you wasn’t love. He just wanted to use you, having no other reason behind his infatuation for you.

Just like your former village.

You were just a tool for them as you would become one for the dragons.

“Let her go,” Namjoon demanded in a low snarl as he placed a tight grip on Prince Hyunwoo’s shoulder. Only then did the prince realize the state you were in and released his hold on you.

You couldn’t meet his gaze any longer but you held your head up, lips pressed into a thin line as the expression on your face refused to give into the fear your mind wanted you to walk into.

Hoseok wrapped a hand around your shoulder and took a step back so that he could create more distance between you and the prince.

Even then you didn’t feel good.

In a Clan where strangers stared at you as if you didn’t belong, in a Clan that only hoped to use you as a tool, you were reminded once again of your place in the world.

Jinyoung, your former village, and the dragons.

The whole world was really against you, weren’t they? Because when you think you’ve finally found happiness, it tries to take that away from you.

.

.

Hoseok stood there beside the open door that led into the guest room where the three of you would reside while Namjoon held a meeting with prince Hyungwoo, and watched with a silent gaze as you sat on a chair, eyes staring at your hands with thoughts running all over your mind.

Despite how brave you were in front of prince Hyungwoo, behind that font he knew how anxious and afraid you were. He could see it from where he stood now, watching you sit there all alone, finally letting your guard down but with a mind filled with anxious thoughts.

You were a brave soul, the sweetest kind he had ever met, and seeing such an expression on your face made him want to make it all alright again.

So he stepped into the room, closing the door slowly behind him to not make any abrupt noises which would startle you and walked towards your way.

Sliding a hand upon your shoulder, he felt you jumping slightly at the sudden touch.

“Sorry, I scared you, didn’t I?” Hoseok first apologized with a rueful smile. The last thing he wanted was to make you even more anxious.

But the way your expression softened at just the sight of him and how you breathed out the slightest relief of “Hoseok” made him at ease again. He made his way around to kneel before you and took your hands to caress them both with a gentle smile to help ease your own worries that kept circling your thoughts. Your eyes followed him silently, comforted at just his presence alone.

“Roses are really beautiful, you know that?”

The hairs of your brows creased in between as you met his gaze. “Hoseok?”

Yet he continued. “They bloom in the most magnificent ways, fluttering their petals open, blushing in the most prettiest shades of red. However, although they are known to be one of the most beautiful flowers, a rose doesn’t just offer itself as a pretty flower. It has its thorns to protect it from harm. Some thorns may be harmless, while some are really sharp and more dangerous than others. It’s like a pretty little thing such as yourself building bushes out of bushes made of thorns to keep yourself from harming others and others harming you. The rose likes to stand there, far from others, and smiling prettily as if everything is alright, while inside it’s slowly wilting away and just wants a hand that would willingly give it sunlight and water without fearing her thorns.”

Now I’m not saying that the thorns are always a bad thing. They can be good when facing harmful creatures that wish to simply pluck it and steal it for themselves, eventually hurting the little rose because they wouldn’t know how to care for it. But there are times when the wall of thorns can fall out of control. There are times when those thorns can harm the little rose. But do you know what’s so fascinating about these thorns? They only exist because the rose allows them to. Some thorns can get out of control, but once it’s tamed and nurtured and the rose can face it each day until it no longer fears those thorns, they can become one of the most powerful allies the rose can use.”

What I’m saying is,” Hoseok held your hands tighter against his own, giving it a gentle squeeze while never taking his eyes off you, “these little thoughts of yours can become your greatest ally or your worst enemy. It is all up to how you wish to face them. The world can be really scary, and I know that because I was one of those scary things that you had to face to get to where you are now. But just as your world can shift with just one sincere heart, you can do that all over again. Sincerity was what got us to see your blooming petals and soon all dragons that exist will see that too. Though,” he narrowed his eyes, “you have to be careful otherwise they’ll try to steal you away.”

“As if that would ever happen,” you told him with a shake of your head and a bitter smile.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he gave you a light squeeze. “You’re beautiful, Y/N, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“I know what you mean, Hoseok, but I…” You looked away, eyes shaking as you could feel the tears coming. “I don’t want to be seen as just...that. I don’t want to be seen as just Y/N, Keeper of the Dragons, as a human, as a human girl who managed to become an important figure to the dragons and is now...and is now someone who can be used to win battles.” You took your hand from Hoseok to hold your face, hiding the tears that fell from your eyes the more your voice shook. “I know it’s selfish of me but I don’t want to be used as a tool. I don’t want to be seen as someone who’s far greater or far lesser than everyone else. I want to be seen as an equal, as an ally. I don’t want to be a weapon. I’m so scared, Hoseok.”

The sight of your tears, the soft cries and soft whimpers that left your lips made Hoseok’s heart ache when you finally decided to break down and tell him the things that had been going on inside your head.

Back then when you were in front of prince Hyungwoo, the way he held your wrist probably reminded you of how cruel and forceful Jinyoung had been towards you. Though he himself hadn’t ever witnessed the cruelty from both Jinyoung and the village you grew up in, he was sure the memories only served you as a horrible reminder of what you were to those people.

Hoseok wrapped his arms around you and in just a split second, your cries grew louder as you leaned against him, eventually getting too weak to hold yourself up on your own so you fell into his arms and the two of you sat there on the carpet floor.

“It isn’t selfish to want something for yourself, Y/N,” he said in such a soft tone as he held you close and tight. “Just because you are the Keeper does not mean you have to belong to everyone. You belong to your own self. Not me, not the Eastern Clan, not the dragons. You belong to you and no one should feel as if they can use you for their own benefits.”

“But…”

“You have a duty to hold as a Keeper, yes,” Hoseok nods, cutting you off gently, “but just because the Keeper’s job is to protect everyone, it does not mean that you are to be used as a tool. My love, I know the world hasn’t been fair to you but you have us now. You're not alone. Whatever you wish to do, we’re with you. Me, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. If it seems as if the world is not on your side, know that we are. I believe in you, Y/N. It’s okay to be afraid and it’s okay to lean on others when things aren’t going the way you hope for it to go. No matter what, you are you, and no one can take that away from you.”

“Hoseok..” You called his name.

“What is it?” Hoseok gently asked.

“I want to go home.”

The raw broken tone in your voice made his heart ache and although there were still a few days to go and the sun had yet to set, how could Hoseok ever say no when you’ve finally voiced out a selfish wish for the first time?

“Okay.” So he said, giving you a nod and a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “We’ll go home.”

#bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly au #bts ot7 x reader #bts polyamorous #bts poly!au #bts x reader #poly!bts #poly!bts x reader #bts poly relationship #bts fantasy au #bts dragon au #bts dragon!au #dragon!bts #dragon!bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts series #bts scenario #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[shivada-jade]

soulmates!

soulmate!au because im weak. you're weak too.

characters: bennett, zhongli, diluc ➡ mentions: barbara, lisa, guizhong, hu tao, kaeya, crepus warning(s): bennett luck (he gets hurt a lot), wrote this at 2:48am so my writing may or may not make sense

bennett: feels the same emotions from the other, but the emotions have to be strong and genuine

he never understood your sudden bursts of sadness. it would come at the most inconvenient at times.

for as long as he could remember, the emotions that weren't his are mostly sad. he asked his dads about it and gently told him his soulmate system is feeling emotions from the other.

after crying from an unknown pain, he made it his soul purpose to constantly be happy all the time, no matter how unlucky he could be so you can be happy too.

his dads worry when he falls down and scrapes his knee, but he would always reply with, "i'm not hurt! my soulmate is hurt!"

he would then clutch the fabric on his chest tightly, like he's been stabbed with a sword and say, "my soulmate hurts right here."

he heaves a breath, "it doesn't compare to whatever luck i get."

"this pain is bearable," he convinces himself when he comes out a hilichurl camp in cuts and bruises.

"your soulmate needs you to be happy for them," he chastises himself for shedding a tear when another adventurer wronged him.

he visits barbara to heal his wounds and asks how she always looks so... happy, so smiley.

"all it takes is one smile to make yourself happy. it can be a slow process but it works!" she singsongs, "miss lisa showed me a study about it."

ever since barbara explained, he smiles the brightest of smiles in mondstadt. he refuses to let other adventurers let him down, worried he might hurt you more than it is.

soon, he finds out that he feels no sadness coming from you. he feels no weight on his shoulders. he feels happy after Good hunter ran out of food for him.

these are not my emotions, he thinks, a wide grin creeping it's way to his face.

he lets out the loudest laugh, giggles, and various joyous noises. he's never felt so happy in his life. for once, he feels lucky, because for once, you're finally happy in the other end of his invisible red string of fate.

his luck skyrockets when he sees a person around his age, with a gorgeous smile adorning their features. he knows its you, sitting by the fountain making wishes. he knows it's you when he sees your eyes that hold so much emotion.

it was as if his heart was tugging him to where you sat.

he's never felt so lucky to have you as his soulmate.

"thank you giving the best smiles"

zhongli: every time he passes his soulmate, he hears the sounds of bells ringing

now, zhongli never thought he would have a soulmate because of his past title of 'archon.' soulmate systems are a tricky thing. he knows there are so many ways to know your soulmate system.

the common system was their first words tattooed on themselves. many others had the ability to know when they meet them, in other words, a count down.

but zhongli never had those two, nor did he have faith in the soulmate system until the lantern rite festival.

walking by the busy streets, he muses to himself how pretty liyue is under the blanket of the moon and stars. he hears the merchants call to customers, attracting and waving at them to buy their products. he hears the clink of the mora in their bag is loud; the laughter from the children young and old marry a soft smile to his face.

he freezes, hearing something that should not belong in the lantern rite. the sound of bells ringing. it isn't any cow bell, or school bell. it's the sound of echoing, melodious wedding bells ringing his ear.

he vaguely remembers his friend guizhong mentioning about this rare particular soulmate system when she still roamed teyvat.

a soulmate!

zhongli stands straighter, eyes grazing on the sea of people, trying to see if anyone stopped to hear the bells he heard. he mutters a few apologies when people bump into him with lanterns in their hands, but that doesn't matter to him.

fate brought someone for him to love. it's just that... he doesn't know where.

he walks forward, he walks backwards to where he came from. he walks to the docks then to the top of liyue harbour, but he can't hear the sound of the bells again.

he doesn't panic. he doesn't rush, because he knows fate will bring you back together. he just doesn't know how long until he'll hear the bells again.

it came to him a surprise when he hears the bells everyday after that.

everyday when he sits at third-round knockout he hears the sound of bells behind him, but when he turns, he knows you've left already.

he sighs, blowing on his tea before taking light sips. it seems he won't be meeting you today.

one day, the ringing just stops. there's no sign of you, or your presence. zhongli assumes you're just taking a sick day, or you've decided to rest, but after a week of not hearing the bells, he worries.

archons, how he wanted to look for you, but he doesn't even know who you are. hu tao encourages zhongli to take the day off and look for you, so he did.

walking aimlessly in liyue, doubt crosses his mind. what if you were here for a business trip and left? it wasnt until he passes by a stunning figure he hears the bells again. he stiffens and turns to you when you stopped next to him.

"thank goodness," he says, slightly covering his smile with a gloved hand.

your eyes sparkle as you look at him, "thank goodness indeed."

diluc: lost possesions will come to your soulmate

for as long diluc knows, strange things always end up in his possessions: hairclips, pens, coins, and archons forbid- his soulmate's overdue bills.

his father laughs when younger diluc comes home dragging a wagon and the biggest teddy bear in history, because how on teyvat does someone lose a teddy bear taller than a door. crepus watches his son struggling to drag the big toy home and sees his other son pushing the wagon from behind, also struggling.

"what do you have there?"

all the response he gets are grunts. the side of his eyes crinkle with mirth, seeing his two sons having trouble bringing it home.

"father!" diluc calls out with a grin missing two of his front teeth, "i don't know where it came from. it's like it appeared from the sky."

"it actually did fall out of the sky!" kaeya says, "we were at the vineyard and i saw diluc get crushed!"

"i did not get crushed."

"did too," kaeya retaliates, sticking his tongue out.

that was the first time diluc heard of this certain soulmate system. lost things from his soulmate go to his possession; lost things from diluc go to his soulmate's possession.

crepus glances at his boys and gets an idea. he calls for them to follow him, and they do, obediently. he leads them to his room, pulling out a treasure chest full of frilly clothes, dresses, outfits that range from a farmer's outfit to a noblewoman.

"this chest is where your mother kept her favourite things," crepus pulls out a necklace from the bottom of the case. "this necklace was particularly her favourite."

diluc can see why. he's mesmerized by the ruby sparkle it hangs. the gold chain complimenting the red jewel and making it complete.

crepus clutches the necklace, looking at it longingly before placing it back in the chest. he places out all the old clothes from the container and lays it on his bed.

"you can keep your soulmate's things here like i once did. your pops is getting too old anyway, i-"

kaeya interrupts crepus jumps on the clothes that are on the bed, creating a havoc in the room. he jumps on the bed with so much energy even after diluc tells him about the story of the 5 little monkeys jumping on the bed.

though, crepus is having none of that. he picks up diluc by his small arms and flings him to kaeya, looking like a bowling ball knocking down a pin. the two boys gasp for air, shooting dirty looks at their father before they chase him out of the house.

the corner of diluc's mouth twitch up ever so slightly, remembering when he first knew of his soulmate. it would take a very observant person to notice his smile. he polishes the glass behind angel's share's counter. under the filtered sunlight, the glass glints. satisfied with the cleanliness.

the chest his father game him was fill of trinkets his soulmate had lost over the years, and good grief. his soulmate must be the most disorganized person ever. he remembers walking to dawn winery and a sack of mora drop on his feet. it wasn't a pleasant feeling, but the thing that has diluc worried is how his soulmate tends to lose the biggest things like a 7-foot-tall teddy bear.

diluc is about to place the wine glass on a cupboard until SMACK.

a thick paper hits his face from seemingly nowhere and so he knows that is his soulmate losing the tenth thing for the day. he has a room dedicated for the things his soulmate has lost, and he thinks he might need a second room.

he pulls the paper off his face and his eyes widen in shock. this two-inch thick paper are legal documents. loan agreements. overdue loan agreements.

[Name] [Last Name]

he notes the name in his head. [Name] owes the fatui 35 thousand mora as interest. what kind of reckless person- then it hits his mind. that sack of mora that fell from the sky was that 35 thousand to pay off the loans.

he knows where to go. he leaves the wineglass on the counter for charles to pick up and hastily grabs his coat and leaves the door.

"liyue, liyue, liyue, and the fatui." he chants in his head. loans. he greets his maid before ascending to his room. he snatches the mora that dropped on his feet and sprints out the door to retrieve his stallion.

a few hours at most to make it to where his fated partner was at, and so he sets off.

arriving at liyue is strange, seeing diluc's attire did not match the city, and seeing his hands are holding the reins of his horse tightly. a strange traveler from a foreign land... with a majestic stallion. he looks like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

he lightly pats his horse, urging to go a bit faster from the trotting they were doing until he meets the gaze of a distressed person in front of the fatui.

"i swear! i had the money and the papers just today!"

diluc scoffs, knowing who they were now, and they did not have the money today. they lost it a week ago.

"listen," the masked fatui grumbles. "im just here to do my job. if i don't have the money in my hands right now i'll-"

diluc jumps off the saddle and unloads the sack of mora from the side, dropping it on the fatui's hand with a seething glare, yet still polite.

"i believe they owe you 35 thousand? sounds about right, no?" he says, letting his diplomatic side show a bit. "for the sake of it, why not amuse me and take this, david. hmm?"

the fatui goes rigid, hearing his name. he slowly lifts his eyes up, "master diluc." he curtly nods and skittishly walks away. one time david spilled drinks at a mondstadt political gathering. he spilled it on diluc.

the ragnvindr waits for the fatui to walk away before turning to his, supposedly love of his life.

"you're the one who lost a 7-foot-tall teddy bear when i was six," he points out, waiting for your response.

his soulmate sheepishly smiles, "well- i would have a good defense but hey, did you at least enjoy having a 7-feet-tall teddy bear fall on you?"

"i did, along with a glass mug falling on me as well."

"i just cant believe how you never lose your stuff!" they retort, "the only thing i got was a missing tooth from you."

the tip of diluc's ears turn the same colour as his hair, but still wears a stoic expression. "i'm diluc ragnvindr," he greets, slightly bowing his head.

"and i'm yours"

part 2: with ganyu, kaeya and thoma

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #bennett #zhongli #diluc #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #bennett x reader #diluc ragnvindr

[the-broken-truth]

Can I request RE8 women (Lady D 、Donna...etc,you can pick who you want to write!)be protected by a human who wear full Knight's armor,use sword and sheild to fight,and they think that knight is a man.

But one day, that knight take off the helmet,and they are wrong,the knight is a woman.👩 ⚔

Sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language.

Broken Truth (Sharpening my sword): Hm, Dimitrescu or Donna... Dimitrescu or Donna... Hm... Why not both? Let the words weave together!

[Mother Miranda's Chapel - During A Lord Meeting]

"Thus, it would be better if you all were to... Alcina!" The Raven Winged Woman yelled out all of a sudden, causing the regal woman to jolt in her seat and almost drop her cigarette.

"Huh?! What?! Yes, Mother Miranda?" She asked as she looked at the woman in the golden mask.

"In case you forgot where you are - we are in the middle of a meeting and you are allowing your mind to wander instead of remaining focused. Care to explain why you are so distracted?" Miranda asked as she folded her arms with a glare under her mask.

"Please, forgive me, Mother Miranda - I was still...trying to analyze something that happened yesterday. You see - a few of the village's man-things decided to attack my castle." Alcina began.

"What's new about that? You report an attack on your castle once every two to three weeks; what makes this one so different that it's distracting you from the meeting?" Miranda asked.

"Well, Mother Miranda - It wasn't the event itself but the person who came out of nowhere and slaughtered all of the opposers." Alcina said with a slight blush on her face.

"Person? What person?" Miranda asked.

"Well... A Knight."

[Flashback - The Day Before - Attack On Castle Dimitrescu]

Once again - the reckless males of the village gathered again to attack the residents of the grand castle that overshadowed their home, but there were more of them than last time. The full moon shined over the castle, lighting the area around the - there were at least 50 or 60 humans there; armed with farming equipment or small handguns. Alcina and her Daughters were standing before the grand door of their castle - claws and sickles ready - the first man who held a pitchfork made a dash for the eldest daughter but before he could even get close to her, the silhouette of a caped figure shrouded the light of the moon before the figure came crashing down in the middle; acting as a bridge between The Dimitrescus and the Opposers.

The figure rose to their feet and the light of the moon made their features known to all. They were tall - at least 7 feet tall - dressed in a black metal armor that bore wolves on the shoulders and in the chest plate, the eyes of the wolves had rubies for eyes; even the helmet was in the likeness of a wolf and the back of the legs had a tail made of fur - was it real or did the wearer hunt down a beast and take its tail as a trophy. By their side, the pommel of the sword shined in the moonlight and even that was a wolf.

"Who the hell are you?!" The man said.

"Silence, you waste of flesh and blood." A deep voice came from the helmet, making the man flinch - a male was in that suit? That would explain the height. "You dare rally drunken minds to harm your masters? You have no honor and thus no worth, therefore..." His hand came over his side and wrapped around the handle of the sword before slowly pulling it out of its case, "You have no lost your privilege of life for even having the thought of harming House Dimitrescu!" He howled as he darted at the crowd of men with the speed of a beast on the hunt.

With a single swing of his sword - the first 10 men were killed. Alcina and her daughters watched in awe as this armored man slaughtered men who harm on the Dimitrescu Family. With another slash of the massive blade, 8 more were killed. He kept at it until the last man - the one who poisoned all the others to fight a losing battle; he was shivering and dropped his weapon as the tall man walked over to him, his armor and sword dripping with the blood of his lackeys.

"You are the orchestrator of this madness - the one who weaved chaos and delusion into the hearts and minds of these men." He growled as he raised the bloody blade over his head. "It is your fault that wives have become widows, children grow without parental guidance, and fathers...bury their sons; let that weigh on your mind...as you face your creator for judgment." The sword came crashing down upon the man - slicing him right down the middle.

"That...THAT WAS AWESOME!!" The excited cry of the youngest Dimitrescu Daughter as she buzzed over to the knight and began asking him questions: Where did he come from? Where he learned to fight like that? Where he got his sword and armor? If he could teach her how to fight? The Armored Man just stared at her.

"Daniela, that's enough." Alcina said as she cleared her throat and walked over to her daughter and savior, "I thank you for your but assistance but my daughters and I could have handled them." Alcina said.

"A Lady of your stature doesn't need to sully herself with dirt - it's not worth your time or the time of your daughters. Your time is precious and should be wasted with trivial matters such as this." He said before turning on his heel and jumped so high that he was once again cast in the moon's shadow before he fell in the forest somewhere, leaving the daughters and Lady of the castle just standing there...with a light blush on the lady's face.

[End of Flashback]

"HA HA HA HA HA! Lady Super-Sized Bitch has a crush! Oh, this is so rich!" Heisenberg laughed to the point he almost fell out of his seat.

"Silence, you stupid man-thing! You're just mad that he is more of a man than you will ever be!" Alcina roared at her brother who was going to shout back when...

"Hold on, ya talking that a tall dude - black armor with wolves all over it?" Angie asked from Donna's Lap; Alcina looked at her confused.

"Yes, that's my knight." She said.

The doll burst out laughing.

"Your Knight?! That's Donna's Knight! He saved her just last week!" Angie smiled.

"WHAT?!" Alcina yelled - jealousy clear in her voice.

"Yeah - it was late one night; we were looking for a plant that grew on the edge of the valley wall when..."

[Flashback - The Valley of Mist]

"AHHH!" The Dollmaker cried out as the rock under her feet broke away and she began to fall down into the misty darkness of the valley she called her home - tears in her eyes, reaching for the growing moon in the sky that seemed to get smaller and smaller with each second. She closed her eye, waiting for the sudden impact that would end her life of misery when she felt another force - an arm secured itself around her waist and she was pressed a cold chest, she kept her eye closed until she came to a stop and slowly opened them when she came face-to-face with a metal face in a wolf snarl.

"Are you alright, my lady? That would have been quite an unpleasant fall." The deep voice spoke from the metal wolf's locked jaws - Donna's eyes widened at the shining [E/C] eyes that looked back at her from the holes in the helmet.

"I...I am alright." Donna's voice came in a whisper.

"That is good to hear. Now, let's get you back to your companion." The Wolfish Knight said as he looked up and lunged himself up the wall with one clawed hand while holding Donna with the other, refusing to let her go. The moment they reached the top, Angie ran up to them.

"Donna! Are you alright?" She yelled.

"Worry not, Little Angel; your mother is safe, I was not going to let anything happen to her." The Knight said.

"Who are you?" Angie asked.

"I have no name, Little One." The Knight said as he held his hand out to Angie, "Now, take my hand and I'll get both of you back home, it gets rather dangerous around her at this time of night." He said.

Angie looked at the black clawed gauntlet for a moment before she took it and was pulled into an embrace and sat in her mother's lap before the knight rose to his full height and carried the woman bridal style before jumping into the trees - leaping through them like a Forest Cat - before falling to the ground in front of Beneviento Manor and sat them both on their feet. The knight gave them a nod before turning away and leaping away once again - gone from their sight.

[End of Flashback]

"Well...Just because she knew him first doesn't mean that she can have him." Alcina said.

"And what makes you think you deserve him? He saved us first and Donna even saw his eyes; you didn't have a decent conversation with them." Angie said.

"He is my knight and I shall not let anyone take him from me, not even my little sister." Alcina growled at Angie.

"Hey, you can't claim him for yourself if he doesn't want you!" Donna said as she rose from her seat.

"And what makes you think he wants you, little dollmaker?" Alcina smirked.

"I don't know what he wants but if he were here, I would as him!"

Oh, fate - how you be a lady.

The Window above Mother Miranda's head caved inward and two figures came crashing into the stone floor of Mother Miranda's Chapel - the first being one of Karl's Massive Lycans - The Varcolac - and...

THE KNIGHT?!

He was holding the beast by its head as it tried to sink its teeth into his armor. The Varcolac's hand lashed out and knocked the knight into one of the stone walls - making a large hole in it.

"My Knight!" Both Alcina and Donna yelled out before glaring at each other, "Your Knight?!"

A flash of black bolted out of the hole and metal arms wrapped around the beast's neck before twisting - snapping its neck. The Knight dropped the dead creature and exhaled before the wolf face he wore began cracking and broke away: revealing [H/L] [H/C] hair, [E/C] eyes, [S/C] skin with a scar across the face and...

A feminine face?!

THE KNIGHT WAS A FEMALE?!

The knight looked up at Miranda and the other lords before bowing in apology. "Forgive me for this interrupting, this beast attacked my home and I had to put it down." She said. Alcina was quick and was at the knight's side with her hand on the knight's shoulder.

"It's quite alright, cavalerul meu (My Knight). You had to do what needed to be done to keep your lady safe. If you wish, I can bring you to Castle Dimitrescu for a meal and a safe place to recover; it's the least I can do, Darling." Alcina blushed at her words while the woman in armor just looked at her in confusion before she was pulled away from Alcina.

"Hey, Tall One! It's been a while! Thanks for saving us from that thing. Sorry about your mask, Donna and I can get it fixed for you and you can stay with us while it gets fixed." Angie said while Donna smiled.

"Excuse me?!" Alcina said as she marched up to her little sister, the knight moving back. "I was the one who invited my knight to stay at Castle Dimitrescu while she heals, you can't roach on my bonding time with my future partner!" Alcina yelled at the veiled woman.

"And who said she wants you, Alcina?! Didn't you see if was uncomfortable with the way you were touching her?! It's clear she doesn't want you!" Donna yelled back.

"She does! Don't you, cavalerul meu?!" Alcina turned to the knight...only to find her gone. "What?!" She looked around, "Where did she go?!"

"She jumped back out that window while you two were arguing. Looks like she doesn't want either one of you." Karl smirked.

"SHUT UP, KARL!!!" Donna/Alcina/ and Angie yelled at him.

[End]

#resident evil 8 #alcina dimitrescu x female reader #donna beneviento x female reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 x reader

[cloudenthusiast2]

To be a human - Scaramouche x reader - Part 7 (Final)

You knew committing to a relationship with Scaramouche would be no easy task but you loved him dearly and unlike others, you believed he wasn't evil. But as a mortal and the devoted protector of your village you were too much of a good person, too much of a human compared to him and your differences slowly start to show.

Previous: Part 6

Length: 4000 words

Trigger warnings: blood, mentions of loss

A. note: Scaramouche is my favourite character in the game and I really love him. But I couldn't help and feel awful when he said those words in Inazuma. Look, I don't think that Mihoyo is gonna let the huge opportunity slip and not make him playable (for which we need to have at least a tiny bit of friendship with him and well, right now mc straight up hates him) but in case that does happen, in case he doesn't get a redemption arc, I made one myself. I wrote this to redeem him in my own, and hopefully your eyes as well. I hope you enjoyed reading this story of that little bastard as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It was fair to say that Scaramouche was stunned by the sight of the local people.

Certainly not because he suddenly grew fond of them. It was rather because the way they appeared out of blue when little Yu gave them a sign. She let out three short whistles and the forest came to life in front of the harbinger.

Old men and woman, little children and whole families walked towards them. It was clear even for Scaramouche that they looked uneasy and hostile. They surely wouldn’t have appeared in front of the fatui if it wasn’t for Yu.

The sixth harbinger was astonished.

Because they would trust someone, especially a child so much.

Because there were so many of them.

He counted the people walking towards Yu. Way more than he’d thought there would be.

These people were injured, dirty and exhausted. But they were alive. And all because of one person.

‘Impressive’ he thought to himself.

Yu talked to them, explaining why the fatui was there and promising that they’re not in danger any more. The people seemed less at ease in his presence now but the harbinger still felt the piercing gazes. If looks could’ve killed he would have been dead in an instant.

He knew they all blamed him for the things that had happened. Maybe they even thought he was the one who made the abbys attack their village.

But Scaramouche got used to these types of glances during the years and he did not care about them any more. All that mattered was that they were able to help.

He stood behind little Yu who was still clinging onto her doll. Scaramouche stared at the bloodstains on the toy as she asked the people of Qingce to help find you.

The thought to promise them money crossed his mind but the instantly threw it away. He just somehow felt that it would be very wrong.

These people won’t help him because he can pay them. They won’t help because Yu asked them to either. They will help because you had been guarding them for years.

Mentioning your name caused them to stir up, to get loud and the all of a sudden the whole crowd was ready to go and search in the mountains.

It was obvious how much they loved and respected you. Maybe even more than Scaramouche used to, he realized.

Yu turned to him and nodded.

‘I think we can go now.’

‘How are you going to search everything?’ the harbinger asked as he crouched down to the child. It wasn’t needed since he wasn’t much taller than her but it felt like the right thing to do.

Yu’s eyes wandered to the hat. She reached out and gently touched it.

Scaramouche normally would’ve ended the person who messed with his hat but when the child did it, he somehow felt no urge to do so.

‘It’s because so many people are watching’ he explained to himself. But it still felt a bit weird not being annoyed.

He cleared his throat so Yu would focus on him again.

‘We know this place well’ she answered, letting her arms fall back to her side. ‘We will split up and warn each other if we find something.’

‘My people are out too.’

‘Then call them back.’

The harbinger glared at the child. She really was fearless, wasn’t she, huh. First touching his hat and now disrespecting the fatui.

‘You know…’ he crossed his brows as he began to speak but Yu quickly cut him off.

‘Everyone is afraid of them. And they’ll just be in the way. They don’t know the mountains, do they?’

Scaramouche clenched his teeth together. But he had to admit that the girl was right.

He stood up and walked towards the agents standing by a nearby bridge. They were there since the people appeared to make sure they don’t try to do anything to their harbinger.

He gestured to bring them closer then stood and crossed his arms.

‘First, I want to know how a big group of fatui agents were unable to find anyone when there was a whole village hiding in the forest’ he questioned them with a glare.

The agents were bowing already but now they bowed even deeper.

‘F-forgive us, our lord!’ a pyro agent answered. ‘They’re locals and we…’

‘Spare your apologies, I don’t care.’

Scaramouche closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh. He really didn’t care, he only snapped at them to let out a little frustration.

‘Call back everyone from the mountains. And let these people do what they want. Anyone who disturbs them in any way shall be punished.’

‘But my lord…’

‘Do as I say!’

Scaramouche turned his back to them and the agents hurried away. He watched as the people of Qingce split up and began their search in the forest, around the destroyed village.

He looked up to the mountains. Clouds hid the most of them, they were so huge, so high. And there were so many places you could be.

Was is it even possible that you were alive?

Scaramouche never lied to himself and this was the first time he wanted to. He simply just didn’t want to accept the small chances of finding you. He wanted to feel hope.

‘You better be alive, Y/n’ he muttered to himself. ‘For your own sake.’

For his sake.

*

‘Have you taken a look around in that cave too?’

‘I haven’t but I can go if…’

‘Stay.’

Scaramouche climbed to the cave and looked into the hole. It was smaller than it seemed from below and inside it there was absolutely nothing.

He quietly let himself down. He jumped on a bigger stone on the path under him, the bells violently jingling on his hat.

Little Yu asked nothing. It was obvious from the harbinger’s expression that he found nothing.

The air began to feel a little chilly in the mountains. The sun was getting ready to go down and let the moon take its place.

They’ve spent their whole day with searching. They’ve found absolutely nothing so far.

There were a lot of traces left behind the abbys order and the monsters. It was also clear that the fight continued outside of the village as well. Corpses of dead monsters bordered the narrow paths.

But your body was nowhere to be find.

Scaramouche looked up to the sky. The first star had already appeared. And with that, their last piece of hope started to slip away.

‘We haven’t looked there yet.’

The harbinger snapped out of his dark thoughts and glanced at the child in front of him. She pointed at a smaller mountain nearby.

‘That’s very far away from the village’ Scaramouche claimed. ‘We’d be just wasting our time.’

‘Then where do you want me to go?’ Yu asked.

The man let out a sigh. She was right, they’ve already looked through every bush and searched every rock on this mountain.

He started walking towards the other one without saying anything, and Yu silently followed him.

In the valley below them, lots of figures were moving and changing places. The locals still haven’t given up even though it was getting colder and darker with every passing moment.

A red dot appeared. Then another. They started lighting torches.

Scaramouche felt like choking. He touched his throat and fastened his steps.

He tried to banish the horrifying thoughts from his head but his desperate tries were unsuccessful.

You’re dead. They’re only going to find a cold body and not you. You’re dead and it is his fault.

He shook his head to quiet the voices and to get back into focusing on his search.

This made him realize that he hadn’t seen little Yu in a while. Scaramouche stopped and turned his head to check on the girl.

She was behind him a few meters away. Her movements were too slow to keep up with the harbinger’s.

‘Are you coming or not?’ The man growled at her. ‘Hurry up.’

‘Sorry…’ She was out of breath, quietly panting. ‘You can leave me behind. I know I’m just slowing you down.’

Scaramouche rose his brows at the young child who was not even tall enough to reach the ground from a bigger rock. Was she really that aware? What should he do now? Just leave her here? He was willing to do that, to be honest. The sun was about to completely disappear.

Yu grabbed the side of the rock. She let her feet down, trying to get down safely but she was too tired – the little girl stumbled and fell.

Scaramouche didn’t even realize he was reaching out – but a moment later he found himself holding the child in his own arms.

They stared at each other, the sixth Fatui Harbinger and the kid from Liyue. It was impossible to tell who was more surprised, the one holding or the one being held.

But it was the man who found his voice first.

‘Don’t think I’m gonna carry you like this to the other mountain.’

‘I didn’t think that’ she answered quietly.

Scaramouche cleared his throat and opened his lips. But before any other words could’ve come out of his mouth, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

They both jerked their heads up.

The sound was coming from below, south to the village.

The whistle was repeated – two short, two long ones.

‘They’ve found her’ Yu said.

*

Scaramouche had no memories of how he got down from the top of the mountain.

All he remembered was the crazy pace of his heartbeat. The darkness invading his head. That terrific feeling clenching his heart, incredible, deep fear he’s never experienced before.

There were many people standing in his way in front of a big cave. He pushed them away as he rushed to get closer.

It was dark. Everyone stood with a torch in their hands. He heard the whispers but the words were incomprehensiblenext to the loud beating of his own heart. There were figures but they were blurry, everything was blurry…

Until he saw you.

You were laying on the ground. Your body completely still, your chest not rising nor sinking. Your clothes torn, bloody.

There was so much blood.

He stumbled and fell on his knees in front of you. A local turned to him and spoke but he understood nothing. His hand was shaking as he reached out to touch you.

You were… cold.

He forgot how to breathe and just stared down at your body. Your messy hair hid your face and that just didn’t feel right.

Why was this happening?!

Everything was supposed to become alright after they’ve found you!

How dare you be dead, how dare you not wake up to his touch, to his wishes, to all wishes around you…!

‘Balladeer!’

He snapped out of the blurriness when someone grabbed his arm. An old lady with a serious look tried to pull him back.

‘Let go of me!’ he hissed, pushing her away. He groaned when the grip became stronger instead on his arm. Pain in his heart and body blinded him as he shouted. ‘I said, let go of me or else…’

‘Please stay out of the way of my people’ the lady asked in a calm tone. ‘She needs serious help.’

‘What help can you provide when she’s dead?!’ he screamed at her in a hoarse voice. ‘You stay away from her!’

‘Please calm down. Y/n is not dead… yet.’

Scaramouche slowly closed his eyes. The words echoed in his head.

She’s not dead. She’s not dead. She’s not dead. Yet.

He took a deep, shaking breath. The cold air in his lungs cooled him off a little.

You were alive. But also, only barely. He finally understood what that meant. But he couldn’t let himself feel any relief nor fear…

He was a harbinger, he was part of the Fatui under the rule of the almighty Tsaritsa. He was Scaramouche, the Balladeer who simply could not allow himself to show any vulnerability in front of mere mortals.

Even if it was about you.

Even if he wasn’t the same person any more.

‘Bring a healer’ he said in a lower tone.

‘We don’t have any vision bearers among us’ the lady answered. ‘But we’ll do everything to keep her alive.’

Scaramouche nodded and stood up. It took a lot of strength to tear his eyes from you but he forced himself to do it and turned around.

‘Alert my people and tell them to give you all that you need’ he told the locals as he fixed his hat. ‘Tents, medicine, food, everything.’

The people stood there in silence for a few seconds, not knowing whether to obey him. They only moved when the old lady from before thanked him. Then they finally set off towards the village.

Scaramouche wanted to turn back and take a glance at you one more time to make sure you’re really there and not just a hallucination. But suddenly little Yu appeared in his sight and that made him stay.

‘She’s alive’ the girl whispered. The mask she had worn so far finally broke and her expression was an expression of a little child. She seemed tired, sad and a little happy. ‘I’m so glad… Scara.’

The harbinger nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. His heart was still beating fast with fear but those heavy weights on his shoulders finally started getting lighter.

He felt something touching his hand and he opened his eyes to the sight of Yu holding onto him.

This type of physical connection was very far away from what Scaramouche would tolerate coming from a human but he felt way too tired to resist. He just let the little girl clench his pinkie and they both watched silently as some helpers grabbed your body and moved it to a safer place.

*

You felt like something that had been sitting on your chest for a while finally moved. Something even bigger, a huge, scary type of darkness slowly left your body.

It left you with the first breath you were aware of taking in a long time.

You let out a small sigh. And opened your eyes.

There was a fabric cover above you.

You were in a tent, safe and sound. Alive.

The first thing you noticed was the temperature. It was warm, welcoming and comforting. Lot of soft blankets covered your body which hurt badly but the pain was dim.

You tried to look around but your head was too heavy. You could barely tip your head to the side.

But the sight was worth it.

Your breath was taken away one more time. You just stared in silence and you could feel your eyes widen in shock.

‘You’re awake.’

Scaramouche closed the book he was reading and looked at you with a straight face.

‘Finally.’

He put the book down with a slow movement.

Mixed emotions invaded you. You fell from relief to happiness to fright in a span of a few seconds. You were alive and Scaramouche was here with you, but – why did he seem so distant? Was he still angry at you even after everything that had happened?

You almost let fear overrun you. Almost.

But your gaze fell on his hands and he couldn’t hide his true feelings from you any more. His hands were visibly trembling as he still held onto his book.

Little did you know he could have not read a single word written in the last couple of hours. He just sat there and watched over your sleep, not dozing off for even a second himself.

The shaking of his hands became even more obvious and he couldn’t hold himself back any more.

He moved closer and placed his trembling palms next to the sides of your body. He looked down on you from above and as you stared back at him, you could clearly see something that wasn’t there before.

The usual cold, emotionless blur was nowhere to be found in his dark eyes. Instead, there was pain. And a lot of it.

‘How dare you do this to me?’

During the years of your relationship, he’s grown to be comfortable in your presence but he never ever showed any signs of vulnerability in front of you and you just accepted that it’s probably never going to happen.

It was shocking, almost scary seeing him like this.

The desperate expression on his face softened and he let his head plop on your shoulders.

‘Scara’ you whispered. Your voice was hoarse and dry but it was your voice. You were able to speak.

The realization of how unlikely your survival was suddenly hit you and your eyes teared up.

‘Scara, I… I really thought I was gonna die…’

‘Then you’re stupid’ he answered, speaking into the blankets covering your shoulder. ‘You should know that you can’t die without my permission.’

You laughed through your tears. They streamed down on your face, straight into your ears. But even that felt so good. Crying was a sign of being alive from the very beginning of life and you never understood that so much than at that time.

‘Don’t… leave me ever again.’

You didn’t event think, the words just left your mouth.

‘Don’t worry.’ Scaramouche finally got himself together enough to sit up and at least pretend that he was alright. ‘You have successfully proved you’re not capable of taking after yourself so now I’m definitely stuck babysitting you till the rest of our lives.’

His movements said otherwise though. The way he caressed your cheek to dry the tears up showed that he’s not just stuck. He wantsto stay.

Just what kind of thinks did he go through in the past days? – the question occurred to you.

To think about it… why did he even come back? How did he hear what happened? And your people?! Were they safe?

So many questions echoed in your head and you couldn’t even put most of them into words that made sense. So opened your mouth and quietly asked:

‘What happened?’

‘I want to know the same’ he said. ‘What happened? How did you get so far away from the village? How are you alive in the first place?’

You thought back to the night. Pain stabbed you instantly and you had to close your eyes for a moment to calm it.

‘I don’t remember much. But I think the abbys wanted to take me with them. Is that… possible?’

‘I heard all kinds of things about them’ Scaramouche nodded. ‘It is very possible. Continue.’

‘There isn’t much to say… Obviously I tried to resist but there were too many of them. They probably realized I would be just a burden. I remember a mage knocking me out. But they didn’t kill me…’

‘Well, given your injuries, they must’ve thought there’s not a lot of time left for you. It really is a miracle that you’re alive.’ Scara stated. ‘And you were in that wet cave for an entire day too. You were nearly dead when we found you.’

‘We?’

You stared at him and your heartbeat dropped.

‘You mean…’

‘Yes’ he sighed. ‘That people of yours.’

He went silent for a moment then rolled his eyes.

‘They helped me out… I guess.’

‘So they’re all alive and safe?’ you asked and couldn’t help but laugh in relief. ‘That is so amazing! Thank you, Scara!’

‘Thank yourself, idiot’ he snorted. ‘You were the one who kept a whole abbys army away from them after all.’

The harbinger shook his head.

‘I hate that you were so reckless to do that… but I have to say I’m impressed. We should spar again sometimes.’

‘Aren’t you afraid you’re getting your ass kicked?’ you grinned.

‘I compliment you one time and you get this cocky?’ he crossed his eyebrows. ‘I have to put you back into your place, I see.’

You laughed and as you were finally strong enough to move a little, you grabbed his hand. He had to oppress his smile with force.

‘And how did you know… we were going to be attacked?’

The question made his task much easier. The harbinger’s face turned back to being serious once again.

‘I have my connections’ he answered briefly. ‘But you don’t have to worry, the fatui had nothing to do with the attack.’

‘I would never think that’ you rushed to make your words clear. ‘I just… hope that my people feel the same.’

Scara shrugged. Then averted his eyes as he thought of someone.

‘I don’t know about the others but there’s one person who clearly does.’

‘Who?’

‘That girl… Yu or whatever her name is.’

You stared at him in surprise. You’d never thought the day would come where he mentions a child and doesn’t frown. And to think that it’s Yu as well! Yu who was normally wary of strangers and such a gentle child…

Just what happened to him? – you asked yourself again.

You searched for answers in his eyes but it seemed like there were things that even this new type of Scaramouche, this more vulnerable and open one wouldn’t tell.

But it was alright. Maybe you didn’t need to know. You were just happy to be there and experience it yourself.

‘How is Yu?’ you asked.

‘Alright’ Scara muttered.

‘Her mother?’

‘Oh, her… Well…’

He hesitated for a moment and that was enough. Every good and warm feeling was instantly replaced by cold ones and you found yourself sitting up in dread.

‘Please tell me… She’s not…’

‘Hey, don’t sit up! Lie back right now!’

When you didn’t obey, Scaramouche pushed you back with his own hands. He was right, your body started aching terribly from moving and the physical pain almost outgrew the pain in your heart.

‘Is she…’

‘Yu’s fine. Don’t worry.’

‘No! I need to talk to her!’

‘You won’t.’

You clenched your teeth together in despair and Scara flinched. He saw himself in you when you did that. Earlier this day his expression was still this full of pain.

‘Scaramouche!’ you said, calling him by his first name which he suddenly realized, he hated more than that stupid nickname. ‘I will go and talk to her and you can’t stop me!’

‘I…’

‘Just think about everything you felt while I was missing! I know you don’t want me to go away again but you need to understand.’

‘All I’m trying…’

‘Maybe I really am cocky to think that it was painful to you but if I’m not and it really was, then just imagine that Yu feels like that too right now. And on top of that, she has no hope whatsoever. She knows that her mother is dead and there’s no…’

‘Oh, to Celestia, can you shut up for a moment?’ Scara interrupted you harshly. Then he frowned and quickly continued. ‘What I was about to say is that under no circumstances should you get up with these injuries. But you can talk to Yu.’

‘I can…?’

‘Yes, idiot. I’ll call her over.’

You stared at him in silence.

‘You’d… do that?’

‘Yes.’

‘So… you won’t mind if she stays with us?’

‘I guess not?’

‘Not even for a long time?’

‘I said no, stop asking these stupid questions.’

You were speechless and just gazed at him without saying anything for a long time.

You had mixed feelings about the Scara you woke up to so far. But this had finally convinced you that he really has changed into something better.

A slow smile formed on your lips. It grew bigger and bigger and it completely lit your face up.

‘You’re grinning like an idiot’ Scara claimed but nothing, not even his salty remarks could take away your happiness any more.

‘Scara, I really love you.’

‘You better do.’

He stood up and turned away as quickly as he could to try and hide the blush on his face. He knew if you saw that, you’d be teasing him about it till the rest of your lives together.

You were still grinning “like an idiot” as he was rushing to leave the tent. But even though he was in hurry, before he’d stepped out, he made sure to turn back and say:

‘I’ll be back.’

#I #NEED #TO #SLEEP #aaa #don't forget to comment;))))) #cloudenthusiast #genshin impact #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche angst #scaramouche #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact x reader

[tommyspeakycap]

Your writing is my favourite 🥀 Anymore John Stones fics please?

ask, and you shall receive kind anon

here to help

this has been on my mind since i wrote our girl so here’s how john and reader met for that little fic

From the moment you woke up - or rather were woken up this morning - you’d been having one of those days. One of those ‘i really hope no one sits next to me on the train’ days. One of those everything makes you want to cry days. Just one of those days.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, the late nights and early mornings or the fact that no minute of the day was your own. You were exhausted, drained and in dire need of a long sleep and some food that didn’t come out of a microwave and taste awful.

Probably wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

Except today wouldn’t be one of those ones where someone sits next to you on the train when you would have preferred they didn’t, because when you got on the train that evening after another long day with dark circles under your eyes and an empty stomach because you’d been too busy to take lunch and were run off your feet, there wasn’t a single fucking seat on that train.

Well, one empty seat taken up by a man’s briefcase and umbrella. It was abundantly clear that he had done that so no one would sit next to him and you barely even had the energy to be annoyed. You had made eye contact a short while after getting on and he simply shook his head at you with a scowl. Whether he was saving the seat for someone or he just didn’t want anyone next to him didn’t matter to you, you felt like your legs were going to buckle beneath you and the weight of the two bags you had to carry over one shoulder while your other arm supported the weight of your world while you hold onto the sticky yellow pole with your other hand so you don’t go flying when the train screeches to a stop.

You approached the guy in the suit, eyes pleading. “Look, is there any way that i could-” He cuts you off by pointing the earphones he was wearing and shrugging his shoulder before looking out the window on his left. You might’ve fought, argued with him and gotten yourself a seat, but you just didn’t have that kind of fight in you today and would rather just let him be obnoxious than cause an embarrassing scene on the train.

More embarrassing that you already had at least, trying to wrangle a screaming baby.

There was one man who’s eyes you had felt on you on and off for pretty much the entire time he had been on the train. You were assuming he was judging something about you; be that the exhaustion present in your body and in your face or the way you struggle to hold everything at once. You honestly could’ve cried, everything just felt like it was so, so much. You felt like you were in survival mode, existing only to exist and nobody cared. People looked in and nobody cared.

Until he did.

The tall guy with long legs and fluffy, almost curly, brown hair steps past you, brushing past your shoulder where you stand again in the space near the train doors holding onto the pole. He stands in front of the man you had tried to confront three minutes ago and anger bubbles up under the surface at the thought of him getting that seat.

“Come on mate.” He says, his voice much louder than yours was and more commanding than yours ever would be. The man in the suit takes out his earphone with furrowed eyebrows and a remaining frown. “That’s a spare seat,” he points at the brief case and umbrella sitting, “And that woman just asked you for it.” People start to cast their eyes to him with many sporting subtle grins at this man hogging a seat being put in his place.

“So?” he snarks.

“So?” The tall one echos incredulously, “She’s got a baby with her mate, it’s not safe to be standing there. Just move your shit.” He scoffs, his voice feeling to an irritated grumble. The other guy shakes his head firmly. “Don’t want to be sitting next to a whining baby, do i?”

“It’s alright,” you insist with a sigh and flushed cheeks, “I’ll be fine, honest-“

“No,” he holds up a hand as he turns to offer you a soft smile, his eyes determined as he turns back to the other man. “Move yourself then,” he growls, leaning himself down to get closer so he can speak more hushed as he tightens his muscles and clenches his jaw, “Or I’ll fucking move you myself.”

The guy huffs, grabs his crap and stands up, pushing past the tall man and glaring at you as he passed. You would never have fought it like that, but your aching legs are thankful and someone did. He gives you a smile, helping you into the inside seat before moving to walk away when he hears your voice. “You can sit there, if you like?”

You fully expect him to reject. Not many would want to sit next to ragged looking woman with. slobbery teething baby who keeps making sounds as though she’s going to start wailing at any moment. But his lips just stretch back into that smile as he turns and takes the seat next to you happily. “Thank you for that,” you mutter quietly, cheeks still flushed. He shrugs his shoulders, turning his eyes to your little girl in your lap. “Don’t mention it,” he smiles, waving his large at the eight month old. “I’m John.”

You shake his hand, “(y/n).” You greet in response.

“(y/n),” he repeats, eyes sparking. “And who’s this little lady eh? She’s adorable.” He coos at your daughter chewing on her fingers. You while her chin with the bib she’s wearing carefully to catch her teething dribbles, “This is Poppy, she’s teething. Sorry.” You grimace, referencing to her unhappy gurgles and constant wriggling.

“Don’t be silly,” he insists, “There are far worse passengers to sit next to, isn’t that right little miss Poppy?”

You almost feel your eyes getting a little wet at his kindness to you and to her. It seems as though you don’t get it that much these days. You’d thought that single mother had a bit more respect these days, but it seemed as though it wasn’t much better than you’d thought it would be at it’s worst. But John was kind, he was sweet and funny, cooing at the little girl until she giggled back at him, patting his face with John just laughing off your apology.

“Here,” John begins as the train pulls into the station that he knew was his stop and appeared to also be yours, “let me get those.”

Before you can even protest he lifts up the well stocked baby bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he picks up your own bag and and helps you out if your seat.

He talks and you laugh at his jokes for the entire walk to your car. You wouldn’t usually humour many people, very least men but he was funny and kind and your heart has already warmed up to him so quickly. The way he puts your bags in the boot and hands Poppy her little teething key ring as you clip her into her car seat. She gurgles happily at him with a big gummy smile and god your heart sings at the sight of him getting on so well with your little girl who’s dad left a week and a half after she was born much to your heartache.

“Sorry if this too forward,” he clears his throat, shuffling nervously between his feet. “But i’d love to see you again…both of you.”

Your heart lights up, your cheeks flushing a soft red as you smile up at him, nodding. “That would be nice.” You reply, pulling your phone out your back pocket to pull up your number from him to put into his phone. “I’ll call you tonight.” He promised.

And call you he did, shortly after 7 and talked to you for two hours while you fed and put the baby to bed and before you knew it, you had a close friend offering to take Poppy for the night so you could go to dinner with John. Then Poppy got sick and you had to cancel, thinking you’d completely scuppered any chance at this relationship until John showed up on the doorstep with a food in a bag and some candles. He cooked, you bathed the baby and he took pictures of you both giggling hysterically with her penguin towel wrapped around her with the little hood over her sparse hair. He’d never smiled so much in all of his life.

You ate John’s meal at the kitchen table when she went to bed he stayed the night when you both fell asleep on the couch.

From that day forward, this was John’s family.

His perfect little family.

#john stones #john stones blurb #john stones imagine #john stones imagines #john stones x reader #england national team imagine #manchester city imagine #football #football fic #footie fics #footballer fics

[frankiekatt]

Could you do a Thomas Hewitt with a insecure female reader who always wears clothes (hoodies, sweaters, etc) that cover her whole body 24/7, even on the most hottest days. And refuses to remove anything even if NSFW events occur. Would Thomas be annoyed by it and how can he convince her to change. (Sorry if this sounds like a weird request, I totally understand if you don't want to do it :)

You got it! I actually used to be like this and still am sometimes, so this was really nice to write. I hope you enjoy it!

TW: Implied murder, slight NSFW

Thomas Hewitt With An S/O Who Wears Long Sleeves 24/7

He feels you.

Thomas knows what it's like to not feel comfortable in his own skin, so there is absolutely no judgement coming from him.

He does, however, think you have nothing to be ashamed of.

You’re the most beautiful thing Thomas has ever seen and he wishes you knew that!!

Working around the Hewitt household in long sleeves can become very uncomfortable very fast – everyone in the house is expected to pull their weight, which means you have a variety of tasks to complete each day. Whether it's cooking, cleaning, gardening, luring victims to the house, fixing up the house, it all makes your body temperature rise rapidly.

Thomas is usually down in the basement during the day, so he doesn’t get to see the way you stumble around the house, trying your best to do your chores despite suffering a semi-heatstroke.

Luda Mae is the one who spots you sweating and panting while pulling weeds from the garden. It's no shock to her. You are wearing an oversized sweater while working under the Texas sun, but it does confuse her why you aren’t changing into something breezier. She doesn’t ask you why you wear what you wear, not wanting to pry, but she does worry about you, so she makes it a point to frequently bring you glasses of ice water to try and cool you down.

It gets to a point where Luda Mae cannot stand seeing you almost pass out each day with sweat dripping down your forehead, so she tells Thomas.

Once Thomas hears this, he becomes extremely worried about you. You were suffering each day and he never knew.

He goes upstairs after hearing this from Luda Mae and finds you in the kitchen scrubbing the counters. You were wearing a large hoodie, just like always, but now that Thomas knows your usual attire has been causing you discomfort, he decides to confront you about it.

You try to tell him that you just like to dress this way, that this is just your style, but he’s not buying it. He can tell you’re miserable in these clothes, that you’re hiding something from him.

He let’s it go for the time being since you both have to get back to your chores, but he plans on revisiting the matter later that evening.

When that evening does come around, Thomas finds you in the living room sitting on the couch, sipping ice water from a tall glass. He’s a bit hesitant to ask you about your clothes again, not wanting to upset you or make you feel uneasy, but he knows this is an important matter and he feels it’s his duty to help you.

So, he timidly approaches you, his nervous expression hidden behind his leather mask. You beam up at him once he’s standing in front of you. “Hey, Tommy! I missed you today!” you reach up to him, wanting to hug him close to you, which he accepts eagerly, wrapping his arms around you gently. You can tell something is off with how stiff he is; he’s usually so relaxed when around you, but now he seems to not want to be in your presence.

“Is something wrong, Tommy?” He lets out a quiet sigh before letting you go.

‘Why are you wearing that,’ he signs.

His questioning makes you look down at your feet. “I already told you, this is just how I like to dress.”

‘That’s not true. It’s too hot to be wearing that, I know it makes you feel sick to work in those clothes. I want to help you.”

You wished he would just drop the subject. Yes, he was right. Working around and outside the house in these warm clothes during the Summer season in Texas does take a huge toll on you. You’re constantly burning up, sweating, feeling fatigued and like you could hit the floor at any moment. But you prefer to endure all of this instead of bearing any part of your body besides your face.

“I just...I feel more comfortable with myself wearing this. That’s all.”

“Why?”

Your face burns at a million degrees from embarrassment. “Because I’m ugly, Thomas! I hate the way my body looks, okay? I don't want anyone to see my body, especially you.”

With that said, you got up from the couch and retreated to your room that you shared with Thomas.

Thomas could feel his heart breaking apart as those words left your mouth, as you walked away from him in shame. You thought of yourself as ugly? You? How could anyone possibly see you as anything less than stunning?

Thomas followed you to the room the two of you shared and found you laying on your side on the rickety bed in the middle of the room. He could see your shoulders shaking as you cried silently. Now it felt like someone had ripped his broken heart out of his chest and devoured it right in front of him. He hated to see you cry.

He ran over to your side of the bed and bent down on the floor in front of you. “Sweetie, please don’t cry! Please don’t be sad! You’re so beautiful and I love you so much,” he signed frantically.

“No I’m not,” you argued. “I’m so ugly and if you see my whole body you won’t want to be with me!”

There had never been a time where Thomas thought of you as any less than perfect, but right now he thought you were insanely absurd. He was the ugly one, he thought. He was the one who was afraid you would leave him if you saw him without his mask. He could never leave you - you were the best thing that ever happened to him. And that’s exactly what he told you.

You felt hurt that your boyfriend thought of himself that way. You knew he was beautiful underneath his mask, no matter what. It dawned on you that Thomas probably felt the same way knowing you thought of yourself as ugly too.

“Thomas, no. I know I haven’t seen you without your mask yet, but I just know that you’re so, so handsome. Please don’t think of yourself that way. I...I know that that’s what you want to say to me too.”

Thomas nodded, eyes filled with sadness. “Why won’t you believe me?”

It was hard to talk about. It made you feel embarrassed and small and ridiculous. “Tommy, when I was younger, just starting high school, I had my first boyfriend.”

Thomas was already shifting uncomfortably. He didn’t like hearing about another man getting to love you the way he does.

“There was this one night, my boyfriend and I decided to be more intimate, and…” your cheeks were on fire at this point, “And he didn’t like what he saw. The next day at school, he avoided me. A week after that, he was dating one of the school’s cheerleaders. And not long after that, they started spreading rumors about me. Mean, nasty rumors that got around pretty fast.”

Thomas hadn’t noticed, but tears began to leak out of his eyes at your story.

“I felt disgusted with myself. I never wanted anyone to see any part of me, so I covered myself up. And I just...never stopped, I guess.”

Thomas raised his hands slowly to begin signing to you. “They were liars and bullies. You are so pretty. The loveliest angel I’ve ever met. Please believe me! I would never lie to you. I just want to see you, all of you. But most importantly I want you to be comfortable with yourself.”

You didn’t reply, but you let Thomas’ hands run down from your shoulders to your wrists.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

You wanted him to. You and Thomas had had sex before, a couple of times, but you had never taken your shirt off, and he had never taken his mask off. You wanted Thomas to love every part of you, even if you didn’t love yourself. You wanted to believe him when he said you were beautiful. You wanted him to believe he was beautiful.

“I’ll let you see me, if you let me see your face.”

Thomas stiffened. He had always dreaded this moment. He never wanted to show you his face if he could get away with it, but he knew one day he would have to. And he knew if he ever wanted to help you, to make you believe him, he would have to show you the same trust you were trying to show him.

So as the two of you lied yourselves bare to each other, kissing every part of each other’s bodies, whispering sweet words between trembling limbs and pounding hearts, you both began to believe that maybe the other was right. Maybe the two of you weren’t ugly monsters.

The two of you were beautiful together.

#slashers #slashers x reader #slashers imagines #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt imagines #thomas hewitt #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm

[naalbinder]

phoebe bridgers // elliott smith parallels

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BEfu6YZ7XbdHFZBXthIpN?si=6bf8fc460eba4d33

E - Riot Coming - “Sat down in jail with this friend of mine/Who'd never close both his eyes/But one was shut all the time/To cover the thing he was scared of”

E - Stupidity Tries “To sail across the sea of trash”

E - Going nowhere - “The old records are sitting on the floor/The ones I can’t put on anymore”

E - Clementine - “Anything to pass the time/And keep that song out of your mind”

P - Smoke Signals - “One of your eyes is always half-shut/Something happened when you were a kid” - “burning trash out on the beach” - “You said that song'll creep you out until you're dead”

E - Miss Misery - (music videos on the same street)

E - Easy way out - “While I watch you making mistakes/I wish you luck I really do” “I heard you found another audience to bore”

E - Looking Over My Shoulder - “Another sick rock ‘n’ roller acting like a dick”

E - Placeholder - “I'm the person you'll never need/The biggest loser on sixteenth street” - “Just like my favourite song/Some pretty words that didn't last that long”

P - Motion Sickness - “I'll be glad that I made it out/And sorry that it all went down like it did” “You said when you met me, you were bored” - “Hey, why do you sing with an English accent?/I guess it's too late to change it now”

E - Some Song - “Help me kill my time cause I'll never be fine”

P - Funeral - “Jesus Christ i'm so blue all the time/And that's just how i feel/Always have and i always will ”

E - Bled White - “Happy and sad come in quick succession/I’m never going to become what you became”

P - Demi Moore - “I got a good feeling/It doesn't happen very often”

E - St Ides Heaven - “With an open container from 7/11”

E - A Fond Farewell - “A fond farewell to a friend”

P - Scott Street - “With an open heart, open container” - “Anyway, don’t be a stranger / don’t be a stranger”

E - Last Call - “And I think I’m all done, you can switch me off safely/While i’m lying here for sleep to overtake me”

E - Roman Candle - “I’m a roman candle/My head is full of flames ”

P - Killer - “But when I’m sick and tired/And when my mind is barely there/When a machine keeps me alive/And I’m losing all my hair/I hope you kiss my rotten head/And pull the plug” - “Tame the fire in you”

E - Georgia Georgia

P - Georgia - “Georgia, Georgia, I love your son”

E - Twilight - “That you are already somebody’s baby”

E - See you later - “Made out of a night train”

E - King’s Crossing - “Instruments shine on a silver tray”

P - Chelsea - “You are somebody’s baby” - “For a chemical imbalance/You sure know how to ride a train” - “With a needle on a tray”

E - Christian Brothers - “No bad dream fucker's gonna boss me around/Christian brothers gonna take him down”

P - Would you rather - “Quarantined in a bad dream/He's half the man and you're twice as tall”

E - Son of Sam - “Son of Sam, son of a doctors love a nurses touch/Acting under orders from above”

P - You Missed My Heart - “A feeling of relief came over my soul/I couldn't take it any longer, and I lost control”

E - Bye - (instrumental)

E - New Monkey (Instrumental)

P - DVD Menu - (instrumental)

E - Coming up roses - “And you're coming up roses everywhere you go/Red roses follow”

E - Rose Parade - “Said, Won't you follow me down to the Rose Parade?”

P - Garden Song “They're gluing roses on a flatbed/You should see it, I mean thousands”

E - Condor Ave - “I don’t know what to do with your clothes or your letters”

E - Baby Britain - “Fights problems with bigger problems/Sees the ocean fall and rise/Counts the waves that somehow didn’t hit her/Water pouring from her eyes/Alcoholic and very bitter”

E - Say Yes - “I'm in love with the world/Through the eyes of a girl/Who's still around the morning after”

E - Seen How Things Are Hard - “You just didn't care/You were off getting drunk instead”

E - The Biggest Lie - "Oh, I just told the biggest lie/ I just told the biggest lie/The biggest lie"

P - Kyoto - “And you wrote me a letter/But I don't have to read it” - “I wanted to see the world/Then I flew over the ocean/And I changed my mind” - “I wanted to see the world/Through your eyes until it happened/Then I changed my mind” - “I'm gonna kill you/If you don't beat me to it” - "Guess I lied/I'm a liar/Who lies/'Cause I'm a liar"

E - Memory Lane - “Your little house on memory lane ”

E - Angel in the Snow - “Angel in the snow/all crushed out on the way you are”

E - Last Call - “And I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me”

E - New Monkey - “For the millions of fans ignoring the bands”

E - Waltz #2 - “I'm never gonna know you now/But I'm gonna love you anyhow”

E - Amity - “I'm a neon sign and I stay open all the time”

P - Punisher - “The house where you lived with Snow White” - “But never not sweet to the trust funds and punishers” - “What if I told you/I feel like I know you?/But we never met” - “The drugstores are open all night/The only real reason I moved to the east side”

E - Some Song - “Yeah it's halloween tonight and every night”

E - Pitseleh - “I got a joke I've been dying to tell you/A silent kid is looking down the barrel/To make the noise that I kept so quiet”

P - Halloween - “Baby, it's Halloween” - “I hate living by the hospital/The sirens go all night/I used to joke that if they woke you up/Somebody better be dying”

E - Shooting Star - “So bad, so far/You made me sad/Shooting star/You're distant and cold/And a sight to behold/Everybody just sighs”

E - Satellite - “When they call it a lover's moon, the satellite/'Cause it acts just like lovers do, the satellite/A burned-out world you know/Staying up all night/The satellite”

E - Everything Reminds Me of Her - “Why are you staring into outer space, crying?/Just because you came across it and lost it”

P - Chinese Satellite - “Took a tour to see the stars/But they weren't out tonight/So I wished hard on a Chinese satellite” - “Sometimes, when I can't sleep/It's just a matter of time before I'm hearing things” b- “Instead, I look at the sky and I feel nothing/You know I hate to be alone/I want to be wrong”

E - Coast to Coast - “Still you're keeping me around/'Til I finally drag us both down (Gonna drag us both down)”

E - Little one - “The moonlight tonight/Seems to belong to me” - “One more/Little one, I love you”

E - Coming up Roses - “The moon is a sickle cell/It'll kill you in time” “While the moon does its division/You're buried below”

E - Everything Means Nothing to Me - “At attention, looking backward in a pool of water/Wishes with a blue songbird on his shoulder/Who keeps singing over everything”

E - Pretty Mary K (Other Version) - “oh Mary K, I can see your face/down there in the waves, painted and erased/but I know it's just a reflection of the moon”

P - Moon song - (52) “You asked to walk me home/But I had to carry you” - (53) “And if I could give you the moon/I would give you the moon” - (54) “You are sick and you're married/And you might be dying” - (55/56) “And you pushed me in/And now my feet can't touch the bottom of you” “But you're holding me like water in your hands/When you saw the dead little bird”

E - New Disaster - “Everybody is the same in this long no-win game/Where every new blood/Gets time to become resigned” - “Until everyone knows that your smile is just a ghost/The ghost of your smile was seen on a body in the park”

P - Savior Complex - “Baby, you're a vampire/You want blood and I promised” - “All the bad dreams that you hide/Show me yours, I'll show you mine”

E - Oh well, Ok - “If you get a feeling next time you see me/Do me a favor and let me know/Cause it's hard to tell, it's hard to say 'oh well, Ok'”

E - Last Call - “You're a tongueless talker/You don't care what you say”

E - Angel in the Snow - “Only a cold still life/ that fell down here to lay beside you”

P - ICU - (58) “But I feel something when I see you now/I feel something when I see you” - (59) “I hate your mom/I hate it when she opens her mouth/It's amazing to me/How much you can say/When you don't know what you're talking about” - “laying down on the lawn” “if you’re a work of art/I’m standing too close/I can see the brush strokes”

E - Happiness / The Gondola Man - “What I used to be/Will pass away and then you'll see/That all I want now/Is happiness for you and me”

E - Whatever (Folk Song in C) - “Whatever you're doing now would probably suit me fine/If you're all done, like you said you'd be/What are you doing hanging out with me?”

E - Big Ballad of Nothing - “You can do what you want to whenever you want to/You can do what you want to there's no one to stop you”

P - Graceland too - “Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment” - “Whatever she wants (Whatever you want)”

E - Bottle up and Explode “Bottle up and go/I can make it outside”

E - A Distorted Reality is Now a Necessity to be Free - “God knows why my country don't give a fuck” - “Shine on me baby, because it's raining in my heart”

E - Alphabet Town - “Alphabet City is haunted”

P - I Know The End - “There's no place like my room” - “To some America First rap country song” “Driving out into the sun/Let the ultraviolet cover me up”- “I'll find a new place to be from/A haunted house with a picket fence”

#phoebe bridgers #elliott smith #playlist

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

Hi!

How are your exams going on? I hope I don't disturb you. I wanted to ask, any picture of Victor which touched you very much? (it can be more than one.)

Wishing you a nice day!

Hiiiii Lys~ (｡^ ω ^｡)��♡

My exams are going pretty good thankfully. To be very honest, your question actually relieved me from the stressful times and let me fall back into the “deep marshland named Victor” LOL.

I think you can already guess some of the CG(s) I’m going to enlist, and they're WAY more than one. >.< And each one of them does hold great significance to me. Rather than the CG itself, it’s actually the meaning it holds. I very well might launch an essay here, please bear with me. 🥺

⌚ CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE MAIN STORY, DATES, FUTURE CGS AND EVENTS UNDER THE CUT ⌚

-

✧ S1 CH [ 18-16 ]

When I was going through the gallery, this CG suddenly reminded me one of MC’s monologues while trying to word her feelings about Victor in the latest SP.

“Since we have never held back from each other, even if I exhaust everything I have, I think it is worth it too.”

- Uncontrollable Factors

And the event of the CG above is a very good example of that. This was one of the darkest, if not THE darkest period in MC’s life. Everything and everyone in her life fell apart at that time. Metaphorically, the fragments of glasses became the physical representation of her life in that very moment – including the very person she made that cup for in the first place.

“That busted cup looked totally out of place next to him. Victor said he was going to bring back the past me, but did I really want to see him like this?”

- [CH 18-18, S1]

Even though she struggled at first, as you’d expect from someone trying to be strong, she ended up letting down ALL her defenses before him. He didn’t do anything special, just wrapped her in his embrace, sat by her side, and that was more than enough. At that moment she realized she doesn’t have to put up a front before him, ever. <regardless of however much he teases her LOL>

“Warmth permeated through my half-soaked clothes as I leaned on his chest. I was in complete disarray, but Victor didn’t seem to notice. As I breathed, his faint scent as chilly as a winter’s day slowly soothed my uneasiness and worry. Even if he had already forgotten me, it was still that same old, never-changing Victor.”

- [CH 21-22, S1]

This gets reflected more vividly through the winter world interactions. She ended up having a heart-to-heart conversation with a Victor who didn’t remember her [CH 21-23, S1], and him being the only exception before whom she didn’t even bother putting up a front at the beginning– in the Black Cabin [CH 24-12 split routes].

“...From beginning to end, he has been guiding me to forge ahead, using his methods, so that I can always run ahead of regrets. In the moments I was about lose my strength, he always appeared in time, and wouldn’t let me fall.”

“I look at his tall figure from behind. The cool breeze that was clogged in my throat, seems to entirely dissipate by certain warm cognition. No matter how, or what way the future changes, there will always be only one Victor.”

- [After the crisis, CH 4-10, S2]

“My both feet step on the ground unsteadily, and in the next second, I am suddenly taken into his arms. Warmth emanates from the chest I am leaning against, seeping through the half-wet clothes. Despite all my embarrassment, Victor doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.” 

- [Natural Harbor, CH 7-2, S2]

Now for Victor’s vulnerability – for someone as closed off as he used to be, he didn’t mind her seeing him as a total mess, neither did he care about entirely dropping off his calm as the mountain amidst the calamities appearance before her.

“He slept fitfully, his brows tensed, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

- MC’s POV, Behind the Curtains 04

“I just squatted by him, took out a bandage and tapped up a wound on Victor’s finger. This was all I could do.”

- [CH 18-18, S1]

To certain extent, this particular event made their pillar of mutual trust and working together as partners as the story progressed forward- unwavering as ever. And it’s very important for two people to realize they can and should be vulnerable and open in front of each other. Then and only then, that love will have the resilience to survive through TEN THOUSANDS years and more, literally and figuratively.

-

✧ S1 [CH 27-10] & S2 [CH 17-4]

Need I say more?

I had to put these two together because they are inevitably linked with each other. I have already made a post regarding the pinky promise, when I didn’t even know what was going on in the 2nd CG – although my assumption was correct. :'(

The 1st CG is the long awaited reunion after the whole thing of S1 CH 18. The 2nd CG is the re-enactment of that S1 reunion moment and this is the 2nd elaborate “re-enactment” scene so far in S2 after the CH 10 wish carving on the tree.

What’s ironic about this S2 CH 17 CG is that, this was another one of the lowest times in MC’s life. When MC is reminiscing her S1 reunion with Victor, he is not physically present in that room. She’s only imagining he is there.

“There are many things waiting for me to do. But I still need some strength and courage to withstand the restlessness in the depth of my heart.

It’s dark in the room, which inexplicably makes me remember a long-awaited reunion – a very long time ago.

My eyes were blindfolded by the fabric. But I still impatiently wanted to confirm that, the person in front of me was him.

I wanted to hear his voice, wanted to hear him call my name.

....In this way, I can feel at ease.

And for this reason, I also made a promise with him in a very childish way.

Thinking of the scenario at that time, I cannot help but laugh a little, and follow after the memory of the action by stretching out my hand.”

- [ The Agreement Across Time and Space, CH 17-4, S2 ]

This not only shows how deep her feelings run, but also reflects just how much impact he has on her — both then and now.

“Those memories related to him are akin to a room that will never fade into ashes, in this prolonged time – hosting me again and again.”

- [ Reunite Date (相逢之約), S2 ]

-

✧ S1 [ CH 37-4 ] - Victor Route

JUST LOOK AT THEM. JUST. LOOK. 🥺

The one on the left – surviving through countless moments of life and death for ten thousand years and more, countless unlisted sacrifices. The other on the right.... apart from the “ten thousand years” – rest is pretty much the same. But alas, this moment of peace was fleeting as well. :'(

I shall refrain myself from quoting anything here, because I’m afraid that I might end up quoting the entire chapter. However this two instances.... *hides in a corner*

MC: All I want is to be your dummy. I want to live the most ordinary, the plainest life I can. I will let you have endless worries every day, and endless proposals that need to be approved, and I will bring you all sorts of trivial worries.... Then in the blink of an eye, y- you can.... <Chokes up>

- [Victor Route, CH 37-5, S1] 

→•←

“My only wish is to be together with him. Being joyful and giggling is not too bad, neither is a bumpy and difficult road. As long as I can steadily nestle in his arms like this.... I don’t want anything else. But what’s more important than this wish of mine is.... It’s Victor himself. He can’t just accept his end like this.”

- [Victor Route, CH 37-5, S1]

→•←

On another note, see those scattered photographs?

★ Fairytale Date – Victor promised MC, he can give her a fairytale ending. Needless to mention what he did to try and make that happen. :'(

★ Warm Winter Date – “No matter how much time or space separates us, nothing can come between us.” ♡

★ Eternal Promise Date – They tacitly made the vow of loving each other for eternity with the exchange of heart lock and key. ;-; ~ ♡

-

✧ Rooftop Date & Eternal Promise Date:

LOOK AT THE CONTRAST IN.... EVERYTHING.

★ Rooftop Date - Victor opened up for the first time about his mom, and this guy really loved his mom beyond words – for which he even traversed through timelines at a very young age, causing himself endless suffering, only to be doomed to no end [R&S Fleeting: CH 33-34 ] – the exact way it ended up with MC every time until CH 36 happened.

The intensity of his love for his mom is described in details in this R&S: ♡♡

Needless to say, opening up about his mom to MC was a huge step for him. And giving him the Shiba-Inu doll which her dad gifted her was a huge step for MC as well, and she gifts him that same doll in S2 [CH 4-13].

★ Eternal Promise Date – Apart from the heart lock-key exchange, Victor surprised MC on his own birthday by taking her to his departed mother’s house. The rest.... *wails* and he looks so happy.... ;-;

-

✧ Deep Love Date & Taste of Life MQ:

★ [1st one] THE ELDREDGE KNOT! THE ELDREDGE KNOT!! THE ELDREDGE KNOT!!! Seriously, I will never stop yelling about that knot. 🥺

★ [2nd one] JUST LOOK AT THEM. 🥺

Actually I’ve already written a huge essay on the importance of that knot, how these two dates complement each other, reflect their growth as partners and individuals, and how they switched places with each other– completing another circle.

I will link it here for the convenience: ♡♡

-

✧ Rainy-Day Date & Sleepless Night MQ:

★ [1st one] – This is actually my PC wallpaper. The date and the CG itself speaks for what I mentioned at the very beginning of this post. In their dating universe, at that point in time – MC had the worst day of her professional life, and again, she let down ALL her defenses before him.

Again, he didn’t do anything special. He showed up just at the right moment, stood there in the rain with her, pulled her into his arms, listened to her problems, told her again (1st time was in “Taste of Life” MQ) he is just an ordinary person like anyone else who has his own weaknesses, and that was more than enough to lift her up.

Victor: I’m no different from you. There are many things that are simply beyond my capabilities. So you don’t have to act strong. It’s okay if you fail. Don’t suppress your emotions. I won’t tell you to force yourself whenever you face a challenge. It’s just not realistic. But one day, you will become a better person with enough courage and experience to handle all challenges. [...] But before that, I hope you can learn to rely on me. You always have the right to be vulnerable when you are with me.

- Rainy-Day Date

→•←

“I knew I could run to his arms whenever I was in the lowest point in my life. If I was a little boat drifting away, he would be my only safe haven.”

- Rainy-Day Date

To prove the authenticity of these words, even one of Victor’s chapters in S2 (CH 7-2) is named as “Natural Harbor.” ;-;

-

★ [2nd one] – This was the first kissing SP karma and I still remember how psyched I was when it was first released LOL. It was released exactly a year and a few months from the “Rainy-Day Date.” And this date reflects just how much MC needed those assurance, winning her big media award - and living the fruits of her dedication with him by her side, which gets a new level in the “Uncontrollable Factors MQ.”

“After giving my thank-you speech, I happily raise the trophy towards the audience. Victor smiles faintly, joining me as we face the applause of the audience. At this moment, a sudden surge arises in my chest. I can’t help but turn towards him. He happens to turn his head towards me at the same time. The smile in his eyes is even more striking than the spotlight.”

- Sleepless Night MQ

We also get another tiny glimpse of just how much she wants him to be by her side.

MC: I had a selfish reason for wearing these earrings today. You gave them to me, so I hoped they would bring me good luck, and also.... It would be as though you were on the stage with me as well. I didn’t think that….

- Sleepless Night MQ

We get another tiny glimpse of just how much she wants to be by his side.

“For such a long time, I’ve been continually working hard and never letting any opportunities slip me by. Apart from the passion I have for the program and being a producer, it’s also because.… I wanted to stand on a stage that he had walked on, and stand at the same place he stood.”

- Sleepless Night MQ

And we get another affirmation that they will stand and fight together no matter what life throws in their way.

Victor: The future you foresee, as you said it yourself, has both flowers and thorns. Are you ready for it?

I nod subconsciously.

Victor: Me too. No matter how far you go in the future, I am prepared… to never let you go for eternity.

I will continue working hard and running forward, and he will always be by my side – becoming the deepest source of strength in my heart.

- Sleepless Night MQ

-

✧ Exhibition Date:

This was the first date in which they talk about “leaving traces” of their own on each other- which afterwards becomes a very frequent topic in their dates, and several dates being based on this topic specifically, including the latest SP date. Given their storyline – it’s understandable why it’s so heavily emphasized on.

On another note, They say, “Eyes are the window to the soul.”

I could stare at this CG for the rest of my life and I’m not even kidding LOL. Just look at the tenderness in his eyes, threatening to overflow through the screen. Yep, that’s the man who braved ALL the OTHER-WORLDY dangers, sacrifices literally for endless years and countless times – only to return to her side. And that’s the girl who knows she is SO DEEPLY loved like that by someone. And all the pain she has braved is worth it too, because as she said it herself – 

~ ♡

#THIS TURNED SO HUGE #I'm so sorry Lys :< #mlqc victor #mr love victor #mlqc li zeyan #mldd victor #li zeyan #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #李泽言 #恋与制作人 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

And I Will Hold Onto You

Summary: They’ve never been apart for holidays since they started dating. That was until Spencer Reid found himself behind bars for a crime he’d never think of committing. Growing and healing, Spencer realizes that it’s not the holidays that matter, it’s the person. Because with that special person, who’s laugh he can recognize anywhere, even cleaning up the empty bottle the next morning is magical.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Author’s Note/Warnings: Body Image Issues (Male) nothing too descriptive, prison arc is mentioned/is central issue; loosely based of New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift

Also this is technically a part 2 to Drag Me Head First but it doesn’t have to be read that way.

And I Will Hold Onto You

There’s something special in the way that the first midnight of the new year feels. All that hopefulness and excitement packed into a 10 second countdown. The energy in the room slowly bubbles up, culminating as the ball drops. It fizzles out as loved ones share chaste kisses and friends hug. But all that remains are last year’s bottles and this year’s dreams. Maybe it’s something that Spencer always took for granted.

The cold midnight air is jarring, compared to his warm and cozy house. Spencer walks quickly, taking out the trash, filled with bottles of beer and wine. The snow crunches under his shoes and Spencer can see his breath in the air as he huffs to toss the bag in the black trash bin. Spencer, despite the way the cold air nips his nose, stops in his tracks and gazes up at the stars. It’s unfortunate living where he does, you can never really see all the stars. Maybe Y/N would like to take a trip in their cabin the next time he can get off? He could show her all the stars. But Spencer doesn’t need to go to the middle of the woods to see the stars; he can simply look into Y/N’s eyes and see all the magic the universe has to offer.

Spencer lets himself back into his house, just as Garcia and Derek are putting their shoes and coats on to leave. Y/N comes out of the kitchen carrying two trays of leftover food for their friends to take home.

“Penny, please kiss those sweet babies for me,” Y/N says, handing Luke the trays of food. She leans over to kiss Penelope on her cheek.

“They can only sweet when they are sleeping,” Penelope says, rolling her eyes and putting her coat on. It’s more of a cape in a spectacular plum purple color with cream colored faux fur trim.

“Don’t act so surprised, mi amor, look who their mother is,” Luke says, cheekily. He hugs Spencer and Y/N before grabbing Garcia’s hand with his empty one.

“Happy New Year!” Garcia and Luke call as they leave, shutting the door behind them. Spencer locks the door and heads back to the kitchen to help Y/N clean up. The plates sit in the sink piled high, with tall champagne glasses resting next to them on the counter. Glitter scatters on the floor, confetti in the shapes of “1s” and “6” lay littered on the tiles, remnants of the festivities just moments before.

Y/N stands over the sink, her hand rests on the ledge. She turns on the water and starts washing the dishes. Spencer walks up quietly behind her, nuzzling his hand into the corner of her ear and shoulder. He hums, the vibrations echoing into Y/N’s neck, causing her to giggle. He joins his hands together around Y/N’s waist, holding her tight.

“Happy New Year, my love,” Spencer whispers, his voice hardly audible above the stream of water. Even though Spencer can’t see Y/N, he can feel the way her cheeks grow against the side of his head. She’s smiling.

“It is a very happy, new year,” Y/N says, her voice strong, yet Spencer can tell it’s hard for her to keep it together. It’s not their first new year, far from it, it’s their 13th. But this time, it feels different to hold her in his arms and kiss her as the clock strikes 12.

They wash the dishes in silence, a comforting silence where certain things don’t need to be said. Like a well oiled machine, Y/N washes, Spencer dries. The sudsy dish soap smells like home and Y/N’s quiet hums sound like peace. Spencer really forgot how much he could love even the most mundane of tasks when Y/N stands next to him.

“Come on, Y/N we can do this tomorrow. Let’s just go to bed,” Spencer says, tugging on Y/N’s long sleeve of her thermal shirt.

“Hmm, I can’t argue against your cuddles, sweetheart,” Y/N murmurs tiredly, easily pushing the thoughts of clean up to the next morning. Her hand joins his, like a key finding it’s matching lock. They are cold from the water, but Spencer doesn’t really mind.

A tangle of limbs and hands, they make their way up the stairs to their shared bedroom. They pass the wall filled with pictures of their smiling faces or candid countenances in mismatching frames hung against the wall. It’s just a testament to how long they’ve been together, going back to their first date right before Y/N’s college graduation and Spencer’s fifth, leading up to their most recent Halloween. Each photo stuck in time, frozen with utter happiness and unadulterated joy. But there’s a gap in the collection, a gap that Spencer rather not talk about. A gap where, for the first time since they met, Spencer and Y/N were separated. Sitting in jail, all Spencer could think of was the personal mental prison that Y/N must have confined herself too.

They don’t like talking about the gap, but he knows they have too. Spencer knows that Y/N is proud of him, she tells him that everyday. Proud of him for keeping up with therapy, proud of him for letting go of the little things that he can’t control, proud of him for trusting her with his secrets and fears. It’s the strangest thing, to have someone be proud of you for just living.

“We’re going to need a bigger wall,” Spencer says, hoping that his attempt at referencing pop culture would land. Y/N stops to turn to Spencer, who in the moonlight that drips in from the window, looks much younger than he really is.

“Did you just make a pop culture reference that’s not from, like, 300 years ago?” Y/N says, her brow upturned in a quizzical stare.

“Come on, Y/N, you love when I recite all Sir Walter Raleigh to you,” Spencer says, reaching up to tickle Y/N sides, causing her to giggle and run up the rest of the stairs.

“Spencer! You know that I’m too ticklish,” Y/N says in between short laughs and gasps for air. She plops down on the bed, dragging Spencer down with her. He lays his head down on her chest and like a Rube Goldberg machine, her fingers come up and tangle themselves in his hair.

“Maybe our New Year’s Resolution should be to get some more exercise, Spence. Your heart is beating faster than mine and that run from the steps to our room is like a good 10 feet,” Y/N jokes as she continues scratching Spencer’s scalp lulling him into a peaceful, sleepy state.

“Two things, baby, one, we don’t exercise and two, that’s not why my heart is beating so fast, I think it has something to do with the beautiful girl laying so close to me,” Spencer murmurs quietly.

“Hmm, you certainly know how to charm a girl, even like 13 years later,”

“Actually it’s, 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 17 hours, 58 minutes and 31 seconds,” Spencer says with a quick glance at his watch.

“And I’ve loved every single minute of it,” Y/N says, reaching up to sneak a pillow under Spencer’s head. She moves to get out of bed, much to Spencer’s displeasure.

“No, no, Y/N you’re so warm and I’m freezing,” Spencer whines, shifting so he can look at his wife, who has shrugged off her thermal shirt and jeans.

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N chides. Spencer, almost bashful at her teasing, attempts to hide his blush with the pillow that rests under his head.

“I only turn the heat all the way down at night so we’re forced to cuddle for body heat,” Spencer says, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“So you say,” Y/N tells Spencer, sitting down back on the bed. She pulls on Spencer’s legs, dragging him down the bed.

“Come on lazy boy, get your PJs on,” Y/N orders. Spencer, who under Penelope’s less than pure supervision, had enough shots to make up for all the college parties that he missed. There’s happy drunks, forgetful drunks, and then there're sleepy drunks.

Spencer stands in front of the mirror, inspecting his body. The low, yellow lamp light casts shadows on his naked torso. He’s filled out a little bit since they’ve started dating, especially within the last few months of Spencer’s healing. Y/N knew that it’s a sore spot for him, but there’s something about the way that Spencer’s dress pants sit tightly against his thighs or the way his shirt clings to his stomach that just makes him look so much older. Both of them, including their bodies, have changed so much since 13 years ago. Or 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 18 hours, 5 minutes and 12 seconds ago. They’ve grown up together, and now Y/N can’t wait to grow old together.

But the look in his eyes is not pride over his growth or confidence over his physique. It’s confusion. Spencer stares at himself like he’s an unsolvable puzzle. Y/N knows he must hate that; Spencer hates things that he can’t find an answer to. Y/N walks up behind him, lacing her finger together so her arms clasp against his waist. For a moment, Spencer flinches. Even her gentlest touches and softest kisses can’t wash away the fear of much harsher contact. Their eyes meet in the mirror, but Y/N can feel that Spencer’s not looking at her. After all these years, she can still see the terrified young man who brazenly kissed her in her car in the middle of a rainstorm. After all these years, Spencer is still the only man she ever loved.

“Spencer,” Y/N says quietly. His name off her lips is more tender than any pet name in existence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m being immature, it’s just,” Spencer closes his eyes, trying to focus himself in the present. It’s something that his therapist suggested. In moments of distress, find your anchor. Luckily for Spencer, his anchor has been his anchor for quite awhile.

“You can tell, I’m not going to judge you,” Y/N says, her lips leaving small kisses on his exposed shoulders.

“It’s just I thought this whole nightmare of prison was behind me. Therapy has been helping, I’m better on cases and I love teaching,” Spencer says, the pain in his voice leaking out.

Y/N doesn’t say anything, instead she guides Spencer to sit on the edge of their bed. She rubs her hand down his back, tracing his spine and around the freckles that collect on his right shoulder.

“I thought that the emotional healing would be the hardest part, I mean it is, but physically, I don’t recognize myself. I can imagine you don’t either,” Spencer says, he turns to lay on the bed, bringing his feet up to his chest in a textbook self-protective position.

“Spence, your body is gonna change, baby. God, mine has changed so much since we met,” Spencer gives Y/N a confused look, like he’s not thoroughly convinced by her explanation.

“It has Spencer. We’re not 22 years old anymore, we’re going to be like 35 in a couple of months. But you know, this is something we can work on together, I’ve gone my whole life not loving the skin I’m in. But being with you makes it easier, Spence.” Y/N says, running her fingers across the bridge of Spencer’s nose and down to his lips, that always a ridiculously gorgeous shade of pink. Spencer doesn’t say much, he’s still trapped deep inside his mind.

“I don’t know how you put up with me and all my antics, Y/N”

“You do my taxes every year,” Y/N jokes, making an effort to kiss every freckle and dipple on the expanse of Spencer’s back.

Spencer turns in the bed so he’s facing Y/N, he cups her face all the way from her ear to her jaw. It’s an intimate gesture that somehow is more loving and vulnerable than saying “I love you,”

“You know you make me fearless, Y/N,” Spencer tells her, not blinking because he doesn’t want to miss out on any more time looking into her eyes.

“You say that everyday Spencer Reid,” Y/N responds, letting herself melt into the touch. She grabs onto his wrist, physically telling him to not let go.

“I have a lot of days to make up for,” Spencer says, solemnly.

“It’s not making it up if it’s the rest of our life, Spencer. Besides, there’s no one I’d rather spend New Year’s Day cleaning up all those bottles with,”

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