#so using their real names is a way for them to respect and see each other for who they really are

[darlingdekarios]

hide and seek.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 5,555 content: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader, reader is referred to as a codename "Freya" and related nickname from Ghost, smut [fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v, mentions of stomach bulge, creampie, oral - receiving], kink(s) [size, outdoors, slight degradation, praise, squirting, cum eating], not beta/proof read deal w/ it

during a training exercise, the lines between hunter and hunted become blurred, and the feelings that have been buried inside claw their way to the surface.

"You can't hide forever, Freya."

Eight hours and fourteen minutes into a training exercise with Taskforce 101, and the two men who remained were starting to question if the words rumbling through their ear piece were correct. Dropped in the mountains within a ten mile radius of one another, it was a game of hide and seek … each of you taking on both roles simultaneously as you tried to remain hidden while taking out your opponents.

It was an honor system - survival of the fittest. Price, of course, at a camp at the base of the mountain, sending a team out to retrieve those who were picked off. Now it had dwindled - only the three of you remained, and the comms channels had been particularly quiet as time ticked by, each of you convinced you'd prove yourself top of the food chain eventually.

But Ghost's voice had interrupted the quiet, your focus broken for a moment as you halted all of your movements, waiting for the forest to respond to his voice. When nothing close to you alerted you dropped your own voice lower to quip back at his taunting, adjusting your position where you currently crouched.

"Just have to outlive you, LT."

"And Gaz. Don't forget about Gaz."

A smile spread across your lips, backpack sliding off your shoulders and to the ground quietly in an effort to increase your movement radius. Your target was well within sight now, the figure hunched over a jet boil that was working to make him a hot meal without smoke.

"Oh, don't worry. I didn't forget about Gaz."

"Well, I'm still here, so you've still gotta worry about me finding you first," the named man finally responded, his voice echoed from the earpiece and from the figure in front of you, carried between the trees as he gave no effort to hide himself, thinking he was without company.

You were moving forward now, using trunks and bushes for cover, stalking toward prey that remained blissfully unaware that its downfall was close enough to see puffs of cold breath from them.

"Not for long."

From there, it was silence from you, any further conversation a threat to giving away your location the closer you drew to him. You could hear the uptick of worry in his voice immediately when he responded, his focus on dinner shattered as he stood again. There was no possibility of him fleeing now, not with hot equipment to turn off and put away. Instead, he'd have to wait for the inevitable.

"What's that mean?" he questioned, head searching around his perimeter desperately in hope to find you before you could reach him. When his question went unanswered the frustration in his voice increased, a subtle shake indicating he was aware of his mistakes. This game was over for him … now he only needed to wait. "Hey, what's that mean?"

"That doesn't sound good, Gaz."

You were trying to ignore the tone Ghost used now as he spoke … the subtle amusement lingering under his tone only spurring you along more. It was over for Gaz before he had a real chance to react.

"Freya, what does that … FUCK!"

His shout was muffled into your hand as you slid up behind him and covered his mouth, a victorious smirk covering your face. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket you activated a GPS tracker to signify his pickup location, moving around him to look him face-to-face. He gave you a nod of respect before you hurried back to the trees, replacing your equipment and setting off on your next target.

"That's Gaz out," Price's voice was smooth in the comms, ready to set the match into its final round. "Ghost, Freya, you're all that's left. Try not to play with your food too much."

"Hmm."

You wondered if Ghost had an advantage position now, if he was looking to the trees for evidence of Gaz's retrieval, perhaps hopeful for a tip toward your location. You were eager to ensure he'd receive none.

"No promises."

"Once the sun goes over the mountains, you're alone for the night. No comms. It becomes true survival. Understood?"

"Copy," the two of you spoke in unison and Price dropped out again, returning the two of you to your isolated setting. As you hiked forward you found an eagerness filling your stomach … butterflies fluttering around as the prospect of facing Simon in this setting as the victor for this game set in on you. He could hear the smile you wore on your face as you all but purred into the comms.

"See you soon, Ghost."

The confidence in your voice sent a shiver down his spine - something he found becoming a common occurrence whenever you were around. From behind his mask his lips curved into an amused smile, though his tone indicated no such thing when he spoke.

"We'll see about that."

"It'll get cold soon, Frey. Once the sun drops over those mountains …"

It had been just under two more hours since you'd taken Gaz out, and things had mostly been silent. Neither of you wanted to outright give away your locations by something as easily avoidable as not remaining silent, so for the most part you had, only responding to Price quickly when he provided time updates.

"If you're worried about a little cold you could always forfeit, Ghost."

The laugh that rumbled in him came through even lower through a microphone like the one you wore now, and while the sound still set all of your nerves ablaze, you wished you could hear it in person. It was a ridiculous offer - Simon Riley had never forfeited in his life and he wouldn't start now, even if it meant sleeping beneath a layer of snow tonight. It was something about him that pulled you in like a magnet, his proven results time and time again securing your unspoken feelings for him.

Feelings you now couldn't afford to focus on with bragging rights of this size at stake. You were well aware of the possibility that Ghost had an eye on you through a scope - he could already be tracking your every move. You were certain that, knowing him, he would be close - he wouldn't allow his last remaining enemy to stray too far.

You still hoped to use that to your advantage, opting to ignore the cockiness in his words.

"Not a chance."

It was only an hour later that the sun was no longer offering any amount of warmth, the last of its gold and orange hues diluted by the beginnings of the night sky.

"Price did say if we're out past sundown we're out for the night."

"You sound scared, Frey. Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark?"

"Not a chance."

Really, you weren't…not now, anyway with every inch of your body burning with the desire to win. You echoed his earlier words to initiate a playful banter the two of you ever really enjoyed alone, inviting him in to another game with the reminder that now, only the two of you remained on the line. Thankfully he took the bait, catching on quickly to what you silently offered.

"You should be…never know what's lurking about…hiding behind a tree, in the shadows."

To his own internal pleasure, the quiet laugh that he allowed to rumble through his chest was joined with your own, the soft sound sending a rush of warmth through his body. Though he'd never admitted aloud - maybe not even fully to himself mentally, in truth - he craved moments like this with you, where your laugh and your casual tone fell easily on his ears like the chirp of birds in the morning.

Instead, he enjoyed his time with you selfishly, the need he felt within him to enjoy more of you buried inside where it would never see the light.

"Could say the same to you, big guy. What's lurking in the shadows around you?"

There was something in your voice that made the hair on his neck stand, something to the tone that piqued his interest further. You were almost purring - he was starting to wonder if Price's request not to play with food was directed entirely at you now. As he focused on your tone, on his surroundings, on taking in the trees around him and desperately trying to ignore the new tightness in his pants, your eyes were on the finish line.

You had slipped free of your boots and socks again, suffering through the cold ground in an effort to quiet yourself further as you stalked your way to him slowly under the cover of darkness. When you could begin to make out details - the pockets on his jacket and pants, the glimmer of zippers as they caught the remaining light, every curve his silhouette offered…you stilled, enjoying the moment.

His breath was visible - heavier than usual. You couldn't help the rush of pride that filled you at even the slightest hint that you had his nerves alight. How many people could say that about Simon Riley? It was a feeling so fulfilling you were almost tempted to bask in it longer, to savor every microsecond it lasted.

But the promise of his reaction was far too enticing to stay hidden for too long, a fact you succumbed to as you silently took more steps toward him.

"Hey, Simon?"

"Hmm?"

"Boo."

Fortunately the ground was soft enough to aid in the jump you sprung into to wrap your legs around his waist from behind, your arms wrapping around his neck and giving the slightest squeeze to accentuate your point. He'd lost.

"Fuck."

"Concede."

When the order was not immediately fulfilled you squeezed ever so slightly harder, only enough to drive it home. This was a fair win. One you'd earned.

But he wasn't hesitating to find a way out…he'd taken an intentional moment to allow you time to bask in your glory - at least, that was better than admitting he just wanted to feel you closer for a moment longer…for as many moments as you'd allow. Regardless of his own wants and completely focused on what would make you happy (though he could already feel it radiating from you), he forced himself to not, a deep breath filling his lungs as you released him.

When you climbed down and he turned to face you, the grin that had spread across your face fell open. In preparation for the dark Simon had already removed his glasses, leaving his sparkling eyes bare for you to see, more of his face exposed now in his balaclava than you'd ever been treated to before.

(Though it was hardly enough. Your curiosity about what would greet you beneath the black fabric grew by the day…by the second now as you made eye contact like you'd never been able to before.)

In the depths of his eyes your own pride was matched, telling you enough about his thoughts on your win that the words could truly go unspoken. He studied you carefully, enjoying the curve to your lips as a coy smirk and how somehow still, despite the pride, a neediness flooded behind it all, something as primal and feral as the forest's inhabitants.

"How long have you been on me?"

"Right after I picked up Gaz, he was trailing you from the southeast."

The mask's fabric shifted confirming the light smile that played on his lips, his eyes burning into yours now. As intense as his gaze was (it always was, why should now be any exception?) you were lost it in, searching for a hint of what he was thinking…what he was feeling. He was an expert at this - at hiding, at interrogating, he could easily pick you apart and have the answers he wanted flowing from you with only a little more effort.

With you, however, it required no intimidation to coax what he wanted from you.

"You could've caught up before sundown, then," it was a simple statement, his eyes not leaving yours as he took a knee on his sleeping pack before you, digging in his bag for a small towel and a fresh pair of socks. He motioned for you to take a seat on the rock he'd set up camp next to, nodding in appreciation when you adhered. "Your pace is faster than that."

You hadn't known him very long - you weren't even technically part of the task force as it stood. It has been almost a year, however…nearly twelve months of knowing the man who now knelt before you, carefully wiping mud from your feet and handling you like you would shatter if he wasn't softer than a hummingbird's feather. You didn't know what to expect of physical contact from him…but this degree of gentleness was certainly not it until this moment.

You thanked him for his delicacy by ensuring your eyes never left his face, eager to meet his gaze again whenever his found you again.

"Could've, yeah," you confirmed when he started to slip the warm socks onto your feet, his attention now nearly fully returned to maintaining eye contact with you. You were aware that with each passing moment your heart was beating faster…even more aware that you couldn't stop it even if you tried. "You could've tried to track me."

"Could've done."

"Why didn't you?"

He was still on his knees in front of you - in fact, there was no sign he intended to move now.

"Wanted to see how long it took you to find me. Wanted to see how you'd approach."

You'd never heard his voice like this - so quiet it offered no disruption to the peaceful mountains around you. Not quiet like he normally was to avoid an enemy, quiet to pinpoint that the words were only for you. As if you needed another reason to be attracted to him - as if the very definition of perfection could get any better.

"Did you find my methods satisfactory?"

The longer his eyes burned into yours the easier it was to ignore the dropping temperatures in the air around you.

"I did."

His praise - even just that was enough to be considered such - struck you to your core. You found yourself speechless, your face burning. Unaware for a moment as one of his hands rested against your knee, uncaring that you probably looked foolish as all you could do now was stare. He was willing to hold your gaze for as long as you offered it - a dangerous fact.

"If you're trying to prove yourself to Price, you don't need t' put yourself at more a risk of injury to do it. Proper footwear is important."

"I'm not proving myself to Price. I'm proving myself to you."

He'd been choosing to ignore the signs from you - opting for the safety of denying what was transpiring between the two of you now for the security it provided. It seemed those days were gone - even the air around you seemed to be pushing the two of you together.

Still, this was a territory he'd convinced himself was forbidden, and in his internal fight as to how to move forward it allowed you a moment of doubt. It was you who spoke again before he got the chance, eager to explain your actions further.

Not that you owed it or he expected it…you needed it now to fill the silence.

"I wanted to hear it from you…that I bested you," he could hear the doubt blossoming on the back of your words - it wasn't like you to share like this, it was much safer to keep things to yourself. But if you did that forever, he would as well…and the reality was, you were more willing to break the unspoken rule with yourself before he was. "I wanted to hear the pride in your voice. To see it in your eyes."

His eyes found yours again as he reached a hand toward your face, hesitating for a moment just centimeters away to give you the chance to slap his hand away, waiting for any action from you that confirmed the doubts ever-present in the back of his mind. Instead, ever so subtly your head leaned closer to his hand, inviting the distance to be closed.

All the signs were there, and now he just had to read them.

He grasped your chin between his fingers and held you gently as he drew closer to you, his free hand reaching up to push the bottom half of his mask up. His lips were more inviting than any you'd seen before - it was a cruelty that he covered them, a gift at the same time to your focus.

(For the record - you'd gladly sacrifice your focus if it meant watching his tongue run across his bottom lip. A momentary lapse of your attention was well worth witnessing the way he invited you in now.)

"Who knew you could be so needy?" he questioned, his tongue swiping across his lips again, finger tapping your chin playfully. That alone sent you clenching around nothing - just that taunting question was enough to fully spiral you into desire. "Why don't you tell me why you kept us out here after dark first?"

Your face was burning - every inch of you was burning. Simon was an intelligent man - your plan to string the game along longer hardly a secret now. It was your turn to concede - he'd found you out. Somehow, you couldn't even begin to remotely care.

"For this. This moment alone."

He had come so close now that the distance between your lips could hardly be considered decent. With the smallest movement either of you could have closed it - a kiss both of you had long awaited in silence a promise now.

"Are you hoping for a reward?"

Your mouth had never been this dry and you could only nod, savoring the way his free hand now ran up your side, urging you forward slightly. He began to lean closer, slower than you'd ever seen him move before, to demonstrate where he intended to go, hoping you would follow his lead - hoping you could be the one to initiate what was to come.

"Use your words."

"Yes."

Like a flock of birds startled by a sound too loud cracking in the night like thunder you came crashing together like lightning, his lips finding yours like they'd already done so a thousand times before now. With his strength he had you on your feet and against a tree in the time it took for a gasp to fall from your mouth. He paused, dark gaze softening briefly as he waited for you to give any sort of show that you wanted him to stop. When you didn't, his lips finally claimed yours as your hands pulled him in firmer by grasping his collar.

It was heated - both of you had waited for this moment while simultaneously avoiding it since you'd met, but now that it was here it demanded everything from you - the kiss itself was all-consuming. As your lips and tongues danced together both of you allowed your hands to explore under shirts as best you could. His hands engulfed you - any part of you he grabbed was with as much as he could possibly get his hands on, noticeably holding himself back from grasping tighter in an effort to spare you from bruises.

Until your nails ran down his abs hard enough to leave red trails in their place and he took the unsaid words as further permission, his finger tips digger into your hips harder as he leaned more of his weight against you, truly pinning you to the tree. He gave you a moment to breathe - your vision blurred as you blinked up at him, eager to see the swirls of color in his eyes this close but still hopelessly wanton for his mouth on you some more.

A light smirk played on his lips at your expression - pupils and eyes wide and your already swollen lips remained parted, desperate and shallow breaths falling from your lips. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before trailing his lips to your jaw, dragging them back until he reached your ear with a gentle nip at the lobe.

"'s this what you wanted, dove?"

You could hear the desire fueling his words and could only whimper and nod in response as his lips connected to your neck, one of his hands releasing its hold on your hip to unhook the button of your pants. His lips reached lower, beneath where a collar would normally sit on you to suck a spot that raised goosebumps all across your skin as your zipper was undone. You realized you'd yet to give him the verbal response he probably required and it came from your chest as a broken moan as his hand slipped into your pants, pushing your underwear to the side.

"Y-yes, sir."

It was his turn to groan now, his fingers spreading your folds to spread the slick that had already started to leak from you. He bit into the spot he'd been paying attention to, uncaring if it left a mark for others to see in more casual settings, savoring the gasp and moan that fell from your lips and the way your hands desperately clawed at his sides to hold you to earth as your hips bucked forward, his fingers teasing your entrance as they did.

"Fuckin' soaked already, eh, love?" his taunt was directly below your ear followed by a loving swipe of his tongue, uncaring of the sweat that had gathered on your skin throughout the day and cherishing everything you had to offer. His fingers traced your hole slowly, teasing you with the slightest entrance several times before he continued. "I've barely touched you, y'filthy girl…"

You could once again only whimper as two of his fingers slipped inside of you with a quiet 'tsktsktsk' sounding against his teeth, his muttered words of praise and degradation muddled by your hazy mind as he stretched you open. He was well attuned to what your body responded to, pumping the thick digits into your tight sex with the perfect speed, rubbing against the most sensitive and velvet part of your walls perfectly each time to pull more moans from you.

His lips found yours again when he was satisfied you'd finally caught your breath enough to meet you in another bruising kiss, his hand that wasn't focused on fucking your cunt reaching to work his own pants partially down his thighs, freeing his throbbing cock with a grunt. You could tell by the speed to which his fingers entering you picked up and the rough grasp on one of your hands that he needed you just as desperately, guiding your hand to his cock and groaning again into your mouth as you wrapped your hand around his thick shaft, stroking his length tenderly.

As you continued to ensure your hand paid attention to every inch of him available he worked your pants down, making sure to quietly ask you if you were too cold in doing so and rewarding you with a gentler kiss and pressing closer to you when you shook your head. You could feel an orgasm building in you heavily and he picked up on the cues your body provided like it was something he'd been doing for a long time already, pumping his fingers faster as he continued to relentlessly kiss you.

"Go on, then," he coaxed against your lips, still not pulling away enough to give you a chance to suck in a full breath. You were dizzy, vision blurred already as every cell in your body focused on finding release. "Get nice and messy for me to fuck you."

It was that promise that sent you over the edge, the first wave of euphoria crashing over you and blinding your vision as you gushed around his fingers, the sloppy sounds of them entering your spasming repeatedly bringing a smile to his lips. He gave you the chance to breathe finally, releasing you from his kiss as his fingers abandoned your white hot core, hands grasping your hips to lift you upward. You realized your hand had fallen away from his cock as you'd worked through the initial hit of your orgasm and reached for it again, guiding it between the folds of your pussy and guiding it back and worth as he situated you between him and the tree, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

You were closer to his face now and could see the emotions in his eyes more - the hunger and need that filled him pouring from his expression and accentuated by a groan as your slick was spread over his cock. His words were barely more than a growl - the conflict deep behind each one only evident because you understood him. "Shouldn't…fuck you raw, dove. Such a bad fuckin' idea…"

You whined to communicate your dissatisfaction, already desperate to feel every inch of him buried in you and logic chased from your mind this soon after one orgasm had rushed through you. You reached between your bodies to rub your thumb over the pre-cum leaking from his swollen cock, grinding against him more. He was coated in your slick already - the fact he could slip into you with enough aid from just that unfocusing his mind.

"Need you, Simon…"

Of course it was his name on your lips that silenced his worries - that completely erased them. He adjusted quickly and with one swift movement his cock was stretching you, splitting you open on inch after inch as his lips found yours again. It was a fact that his length was too much for you to take in full, one you ignored happily and in a moderate state of drunken bliss until he'd bottomed out in you, tip pushing against your cervix. One of his hands remained attached to your hip and the other reached to press against your stomach and the bulge, adding to the pressure seated in your core so much you already started seeing stars again.

"Y'okay, princess?"

Any other time you'd have snipped at him not to call you that, but now as he muttered it in a slightly higher pitch, his whisper desperate and light against your lips you couldn't bring yourself to mind the name - with his cock buried in you you only nodded in response. His eyes met yours again before he leaned his forehead against yours, giving you a moment to focus on the feeling of his pulling his cock out from your velvet walls slowly.

He waited for a moment, teasing you with a delicate kiss to your bottom lip before he sheathed himself into you fully again with one swift thrust, hand pressing down against your stomach again. The sound of your pussy accepting him in with a squelch combined with the moan that ripped from your chest was pornographic and addicting, and he immediately entered a bruising pace to repeat it as much as he could - greedily working for another release from you.

You were thankful that his resolve had completed melted away as he got lost in the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock on each entry, moans and grunts repeatedly falling from his lips as he fucked into you. While most of his hand stayed pressed against his own bulge inside you he reached his thumb down to your clit to rub the swollen nub, eagerly claiming your mouth again with his tongue when a moan erupted from it.

He continued his efforts relentlessly but gave you another break to breathe to lower his head to your neck again, kissing a trail down to your collarbone where he nibbled lightly, testing how the added stimulation would effect you. Despite the repeated moans and whimpers falling from your lips - it wasn't enough from him, the need to push you over the edge and prove to you the months of this building was worth it fueling his movements with primal need.

His hold on your hip became harder as his speed increased, thrusting into you desperately and rough. Distantly you could hear him praising you repeatedly as your walls began to squeeze his length tighter, mumbling quiet words of appreciation into your skin interchangeably between biting and licking and sucking. When your legs began to shake around him, he knew you were close and while he could've continued on just how he was he pressed for more, fucking into your harder with bruising thrusts into you.

(In the morning you'd remark that he could've taken it easier on you considering you had a hell of a hike back to camp and it would only be worse with a bruised cervix and hips. He'd only offer you a smirk as he remarked the pain would be good for you.

But he'd carry you for however long you asked him to if it was too much.)

"That's it, dove," he cooed, adjusting to look into your face again. "Want you to cum on my cock…want to see how messy we can make you, yeah?"

You nodded, vision blurred as you met his eyes again, eager to see the gaze of adoration he was now offering to you. His lips twisted into a smirk at the sight of your mouth hanging open, a bit of drool running down your chin - something you hadn't noticed and would've felt embarrassed over if he hadn't leaned forward and greedily swiped at it with his tongue, kissing you deeply again.

It was then that a second orgasm was pulled from you - but between the stimulation of the head of his cock rubbing against the perfect spot inside you, his thumb circling your clit, and his lips kissing you as though it was life sustaining this time your release squirted from you, your release coating his cock, waist, and thighs. A low groan rumbled in his chest and his speed picked up again, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around him and milking his own release from him.

He opened his mouth to try to warn you it was coming - a lost cause when you abandoned his kiss to attach your lips to his neck and jaw, lightly nipping and licking at several sensitive spots that were typically covered to the world. He grasped your hip tighter and stilled his movements otherwise as he filled you with his release, his hot seed creating such a large load that it was already leaking from you around him.

You continued to kiss on his jaw as you both came down again, Simon waiting until he was certain you wouldn't fall before he removed his length from you, gently lowering you back to the ground. His eyes remained transfixed on your combined releases leaking down your thighs for a moment, conflicting emotions once again flooding his expression as he gazed at you. Just as you opened your mouth to ask if he was okay he dropped to his knees, using one hand pressed against your stomach to pin you to the tree again as the other lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.

He leaned forward to lick each of your thighs clean - you wished he'd removed his mask briefly so you could tangle your fingers in his hair, the thought was abandoned when he leaned forward fully to connect his flattened tongue to your folds, licking a slow stripe through them gently. You gasped and grasped at what you could, landing on holding the hand over your stomach and the back of his head, anchoring him to you.

He was happy to accept the way you pulled his head forward, burying it into your cunt more until his nose was pressed to your clit. His tongue found your hole and fucked into it, greedily slurping in as much of your releases as he could. It was entirely too much the way he swirled his tongue and sucked against you hungrily, but you still couldn't silence the loud cry of disappointment when his mouth abandoned you only to stand and kiss you again, silencing your whine with his tongue sharing what he hadn't swallowed for himself already.

When he released you again he leaned his forehead against yours, a lazy smirk spread across his lips that matched the smug energy radiating from him. With a shaking voice you quipped at him, unashamed of what he'd reduced you to and completely pleased with how your plan had come to fruition.

"Price told us not to play with our food."

The way his laugh huffed from him in his breathless state was intoxicating, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip briefly catching your gaze and transfixing you again.

"What Price doesn't know won't hurt him.

masterlist. call of duty masterlist.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley x reader

[im-only-here-for-the-fandom]

DPxDC : The Phantom ARG

I have been watching a lot of ARG’s and conspiracy theory on youtube lately and decided to combine the two so here we go.

The ghosts in this au will be like Deadman, you can’t see him unless you have magic, a magic artifact, or highly contaminated by ectoplasm. meaning only danny and his friends Sam and Tucker who were near the portal when it activated can see the ghosts in this au, they are invisible to everyone else in Amity Park.

In the beginning, after his accident Danny believed that he was merely hallucinating the small ghost blobs and ghost animals that initially made it through the portal thinking it was only an after effect from getting an extreme shock, and it isn’t until the first ‘incident’ the mystery meat that attacked the shool cafeteria that he realizes that what he is seeing is real.

So like any self respecting teen he tells his best friends Sam and Tucker. They both reveal that they too have been seeing strange things since the accident although not as clearly as Danny, they could still see them like watching youtube in 240p. They gather after the mystery meat incident, which they have named INCIDENT-1 or IN-1 for short as they later name it, in Danny’s room afterwards to discuss what happened. They find out that other than the three of them no one seemed to see the floating lunch lady or even head her when she talked , they only reacted after the meat started gathering and taking the shape of a monster.

Sam says that they should document what they see and what is happening in amity park and the boys agree with her. Danny become the main cameraman and investigator being the only one strong enough to get close without major injury or harm and also being able to see, hear, and feel the ghosts clearest. Sam is the main documenter and researcher she’s the one that writes down their findings and goes over the videos they have to discover new findings to note down. Tucker is the main hacker and editor he hacker the cameras in the streets and school to get footage and other information that might be needed while also making sure that they can’t be tracked. Despite having their main area of expertise they all pitch in to help each other.

While documenting they start figuring out a few key details about documenting ghosts. 1 being that unless you are using an ecto-camera the less technologically adavanced the devices you use are the better results you get. 2 the stronger the ghost is the more visible they are, the stronger they are the more dangerous they are ( danny in ghost form is by far the most visible on camera, and in real life extremely clear to his friends). and finally 3 as time goes on certain objects/ places around town have started to become strange or gain peculiar features.

Jazz ,still not believing in ghosts because they are not visible ,becomes suspicious of what the Trio are doing, so they lie to her and tell her that they are making a sort of anolog horror based on their town to cope with the stress of the recent events happening.

realizing that ‘hey this actually a really nice way to destress from our problems’ and with that one lie that they told jazz the Trio became fully committed to making a full on ARG , with hidden messages, pictures and code. so with Tucker’s coding and editing skills and knowledge of ciphers and wordplay, Sam’s organizing skills and eye for hints and details, and Danny’s obsession with stars and everything space and his way with emotions, along the very much real ghosts and they were all set to make the best ARG.

They named it THE PHANTOM ARG, finishing up the last details they finally post their first video on youtube titled ‘IN-1 : Mystery Meat’. Later on once they get the hang of it they post about ‘how to deal with the ghosts’ ‘evacuation procedures’ ‘cooking with ectoplasm’ and artwork depicting the ghosts and short presentations explaining their characteristics. They even make a fully functional website thats called ‘welcom to Amity Park’ where there are hidden messages, codes and information.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

In Gotham

Bernard Dowd is watching youtube when a video thumbnail catches his eye, it looks like a strange meat monster, he was intrigued. having nothing better to do, he decides to watch it. he looks at what the chanel is about and is instantly hooked, theory’s are exploding from his mind.

he can’t wait to tell Tim about this he would absolutely love this type of mystery solving.

random ideas for this au

The GIW are a big thing in this au, they can’t take down what the trio are posting because Tucker is a hacking god.

Danny is only called to as phantom when he is a ghost never as a human ( because of this no one knows that danny is a halfa)

the trio could go by code names, polaris(danny),pharaoh(tucker),gaia(sam). or any other name you think is sutable.

all codes, ciphers, and hints are based on either science and technology(tucker), plants and animals(sam), or space and ghosts(danny).

the ghost portal accident and opening is unkown to the public and is only referd to as the Accident and people are never told what this accident is only ‘since the accident’ or ‘after the accident’.

there is an extremely hidden video that requires you to solve an impossible amount of hints and clues, that is of the portal opening. it’s called IN-0:The Accident.

(the video shows two people a man and a woman jack and maddie in hazmat suits standing in front a large metal tunnel, two kids jazz and danny siting in front of them, the scientists plug the machine but it fails, they disappointedly leave,*fast foward*, three kids, the trio are standing in front of the portal, they talk, danny puts on a hazmat and walks into the tunnel, it whirls on, the doors shut, the video glitchs as the sound of the machine starting up get louder, the screen turns black but the sound of danny screaming are loud and clear, the screaming goes on for a few minutes before suddenly cutting off, the screan clears up but its still a bit glitchy, the portal is open swirling green with sam and tucker standing in front of it, danny is nowhere to be seen)

danny may or may not be ghost king

This is my attempt at drawing the LUNCH LADY.

DANGER: ⭐️⭐️

( rating may change)

please add, use, change as much as you like. i’d love to see what you come up with and how this idea could expand.

just make sure to tag me or tag it as The Phantom ARG.

#dp idea #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc fanfic #dpxdc #dp dc crossover #dp x dc fic #dc x dp #dp crossover #danny phantom crossover #dc x dp fic #dcxdp #DcxDp #dpxdc au #dc crossover #danny phantom #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp au #dc x dp fanfiction #The Phantom ARG #ARG #Phantom ARG #bernard dowd #sam manson #tucker foley #could be a crossover with any fandom #or multipule other dimensions at once

[matchingbatbites]

Steve proposes to Eddie during DND.

He's played about a dozen times since the Vecna ordeal three years ago, just one-off stories with no real consequences, and while it took him a little bit to get a feel for the game, he's finally reached a point where he doesn't feel totally out of place.

It helps that Eddie absolutely lights up every time Steve agrees to play, that his boyfriend tends to go a little easier on the rest of the table because they all help Steve half-fumble through the mechanics. It's worth it when Eddie beams at him for figuring something out first, for suggesting a dumb play that has the table screaming when it works.

It's the summer after the kids' senior year, and when Eddie offers to run an all-day one shot to celebrate their graduation, Steve instantly starts planning. He talks to Robin, who absolutely gushes over his idea, and along with Dustin they plan it all out.

He learns the premise of the one-shot from Eddie - there's a big bad who's been taking people from the kingdom, and the king is finally forced to do something when his own son, the prince, is also taken - and Dustin helps him make a character, a fighter who is the personal guard of the prince, whose goal is to find and bring him back safely.

Eddie seems pleased with the character when Steve explains it to him, even more so when Steve suggests the idea that they've fallen for each other and have been lovers in secret. "You're such a romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says before kissing him, and Steve knows it’s a tease and a compliment, knows that Eddie loves how soft he can get over things like that.

The game happens about two weeks later, and Eddie wasn’t joking when he called it an all-day affair.

They get started at about ten that morning, Steve and Eddie, their four boys, and Erica all crowded around the little dining table in Steve and Eddie's little apartment, with Robin, El, and Max entertaining themselves in the adjacent living room.

At Eddie’s insistence, they take a break every couple of hours so everyone can get up and stretch and use the toilet, with slightly longer breaks for lunch and dinner (sandwiches and pizza, respectively, both provided by Steve and Eddie).

The big bad is defeated at around nine that night, and everyone is elated as Eddie takes them through the aftermath, letting each player character have a short moment to reunite with their stolen friends and loved ones.

Robin and the girls have moved to sit on the nearby kitchen counter to listen, partly because El always enjoys these soft moments in the story, and partly because Robin knows what’s going to happen soon.

Steve stays quiet, letting the others have their moment as he fights down the sudden anxiety that sparks through him, knowing what he’s about to do. He looks up when Eddie says his name, takes a steadying breath, and asks "Do I see the prince?"

Eddie nods, says "You do."

"I go over to him."

"He sees you approaching and he rushes to you, meeting you halfway. As soon as you're close enough, he throws his arms around you and says 'I knew you would save me, darling.'"

Steve smiles. "I say, 'I always will, my love' and then I kiss him."

The teens hoot and holler a little as Eddie grins. "He kisses you back, and for a moment it's like everything else fades to the background. All that matters is him, back where he belongs, safe in your arms."

Steve nods, and before he loses his nerve asks "Can I do something?"

Eddie quirks a brow, curious. "Of course,” he says, and Steve takes a breath to steady himself.

"I take his hand, and then I drop to one knee."

A couple of the teens give little 'ooh's as Eddie looks at him, clearly a little surprised, and Steve continues before he can say anything.

"Three years ago, I took my place by your side as your personal guard. I swore to care for you, to protect you from anything that would want to hurt you, and somewhere along the way, we fell in love."

Steve swallows, knows he's blurring the line of character and person as he speaks, staring at Eddie across the table.

"The last three years have been everything to me. Any time I'm not with you, you're the only thing I can think about, and every day spent with you is a fucking gift, because I know just how close I came to losing you."

The sudden urge to touch Eddie becomes overwhelming and he stands, watches Eddie's shocked face as he rounds the table and drops to a knee in front of his lover. Eddie's eyes are wide and he gives a soft "Steve?" as Steve takes a slender hand in his own, remembers the words he had practiced over and over with Dustin.

"I don't want to be just a fighter anymore. I want to be a paladin, set on a righteous path, and if you'll let me, I want to make an Oath of Devotion. Not to any god or angel, but to you, the love of my life."

Steve pulls the ring from his pocket and offers it to Eddie. It's very much not traditional, and at first glance seems to be just another chunky ring that blends in with Eddie's current selection. But Steve had to get it, the shield molded onto the band and the new 'beloved' engraved on the inside repeating what Steve always says, I'll protect you, I love you.

Eddie is in tears as Steve stares him down, as he gently asks "Eddie Munson, will you marry me?"

For just a second, Eddie is completely still, save for his shaky breathing. Steve doesn't get scared, he knows that sometimes it takes Eddie a second to register things when he's overwhelmed. He waits it out, and after a few seconds Eddie blinks rapidly before jerking forward, dropping to his knees as he throws his arms around Steve. "Fuck yes! Of course I will!"

Cheers erupt through the room, and a flash goes off when they meet in a kiss. Eddie looks over to see Robin with a camera in her hand and tears streaming down her face. “Don’t mind me,” she says, a bit choked up even as she beams at them, and Eddie’s head whips back to Steve.

“You planned this!” he yells, unable to stop his own tears from falling, and Steve laughs. “Of course I did!” is his reply as he takes Eddie’s hand back so he can slide the ring onto it, and he ignores the second flash from where Robin sits.

“Wanted it to be perfect,” Steve says softly, stroking his thumb over the ring, now at its new home on Eddie’s finger. “Wanted you to know how much you mean to me, and I figured something nerdy would hit all the right buttons.”

“I helped with the nerd stuff!” Dustin calls from his seat, and Eddie laughs wetly as he scrubs at the tear tracks on his cheeks. “I should have known something was up with you, Henderson. You’ve been bouncing off the walls for weeks.”

Steve stands up from the floor before helping Eddie up, and they both grunt as Dustin practically slams into them for a hug, quickly followed by a more reserved El. They hug each of the kids in turn and accept their congratulations, and after a few minutes Eddie is put together enough to actually finish out the one-shot.

Later that night as they're getting ready for bed, Eddie presses up behind Steve, one hand sliding to rest on his stomach and the other opening in front of them, revealing a simple, gold band.

"You beat me to it, you dick," he says with so much tenderness, and Steve laughs as he takes the ring.

"You can still do your proposal, if you want," Steve replies, heart swelling as he looks over the band, sees the little 'sweetheart' engraved on the inside.

"Nah, there's no way I can top what you did for me."

"I dunno, you normally top me pretty well," Steve teases, just to hear Eddie's delighted little cackle.

He turns and hands the ring back to Eddie, asks "Put it on me?" and Eddie smiles. He takes the ring and slides it onto Steve's finger, his thumb brushing over shiny metal, and Steve feels so fucking happy as they meet in the middle for a kiss.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #joey writes #steddie fanfic #heres the proposal fic #as promised #i see you all screaming in the tags and please know it brings me endless joy #ily all #oath of devotion

[ghostboneswrites2]

Safer

Summary: After the fall of the prison and a brutal assault, Daryl cares for you.

NOTE (please read): A mutual requested this a while ago. Took a long while to write, and tbh I considered turning the req down given the premise and my firm stance on writing graphic SA which you can find here. However, they explained to me that they are a victim of a violent s*xual assault, and they expressed it would be healing in a way to have a story where they were cared for by their comfort character. After some consideration, I decided to go for it. I'm sure a lot of us have been victimized by people who couldn't control their urges, or those who lacked respect for our boundaries, bodies, and consent. Myself included. So, this story is for us, to those of us that can stomach it. 

DISCLAIMER: There are no scenes of graphic SA, only the aftermath. While I will not be telling any descriptive scenarios of being assaulted, I do want to clearly express that this is a generally heavy story and it may not be suitable for all audiences. Please consume responsibly.

**I will not be tagging anyone on the taglist due to the content of this story**

18+MDNI ||  WARNINGS: non-graphic allusions to SA, violence, mild nudity descriptions, generally heavy content so I can't say it enough: TW!!!

Banners credited on my masterlist!!

        Daryl's vision was blurred as he blinked himself to consciousness. It took him some time to gather his thoughts and recognize his surroundings. His wrists and ankles were bound together, his mouth gagged with a cloth that tasted of sweat and filth. He stared up at the treetops towering over him. It was dark outside, save for the dim light of a dying campfire a few feet away. He lifted his head from the forest floor and looked down past his feet. Lumps of sleeping bodies under raggedy blankets and torn sleeping bags rested around him. His heart raced as his memories crept back in; of you, screaming his name, of him fighting off the group of men who caught him off guard, of twigs snapping and a searing pain over the side of his head. Was that why his face felt so sticky? Was it dried blood?

        His eyes strained in the fading light of ember and ash. Where were you? He noticed a crumpled form at the foot of a tree. Her breathing was shallow and her clothes were torn, pants not even pulled up over her bare behind. That much, he could see. His throat tightened. His eyes watered. What the hell had he let them do to you? How could he have let this happen? He had to get you out of there, and fast. If they hadn't killed him yet, that was surely on their agenda.

        He began to squirm and writhe against his restraints. Whoever tied him up had experience. Just as hopelessness began to set in and cloud his judgement with fear -- real, genuine fear -- he noticed a reflection in the leaves. Just a few feet past his boots, a man was curled up on his side, snoring lightly in the calm breeze. His back was turned to Daryl, and behind him set a grungy backpack with a blade sticking out of the smallest pocket in the front. He glanced back  to you, shivering on the ground, unsure if you were awake or unconscious or simply passed out from the exhaustion of prior events. 

        The sight of you in your disheveled mess was all her needed to kick him into gear. Carefully and hastily, he scooted himself down toward his only chance at redeeming his status as a loyal protector of the weak and vulnerable. Ideally, he'd be able to accomplish this in silence, but he was not in an ideal situation. His circumstances were heavy, laced in sweat and angst. The leaves beneath him rustled as his back slid across the ground, twigs snapping or moving to the side as he made his way closer to the large hunting knife. He'd pause between each scoot, studying the sleeping men around him for any sign of movement or wakefulness. When he'd decide the coast was clear enough, he'd resume. It felt like an eternity, but he made it there. 

        His core muscles strained as he sat himself up. He realized how sore he was. He must have taken a good beating. Seemed fitting, though. He was never one to go down without a fight. He left that sort of weakness in his past.

        He guided his shaky, bound hands over to the bag. He slowly slid the knife out of the front pocket. His heart raged against his ribs. He didn't dare take a single breath until it was secured. 

        Slow. Slowness. Slowly. He repeated every variation of the word in his mind as he positioned the knife between his palms and dragged it back and forth until the rope finally severed. A silent breath of relief escaped him as he ripped the gag from his lips and worked on the rope tied around his ankles. When he was free, he stood and counted the sleeping bodies beneath him. Excluding you, there were four. 

        He considered waking you up and running for the hills, but he couldn't leave any loose ends. No, he thought of it like when your t-shirt has a loose thread. You could leave it to keep unraveling, or you could burn it at  the base and extend the lifetime of your clothes. He decided he needed to burn this string before it could unravel any further.

        Starting with the man closest to him -- the one who so graciously left his knife in plain sight for the archer -- he krept over and crouched down, plunching the blade into the base of his skull. Then, he moved on to the next, and the next one, and the one after that, until they were all a problem of the past. Until that pesky little thread could do no further damage to the rest of the shirt.       

        When the dirty work was behind him, he dropped the knife and rushed over to you. Your wrists were tied like his, but you were tied to the tree so you couldn't run. He eyed you over and gulped. With your pants not fully covering you and your shirt all ripped up, he could see the finger-shaped bruises littering your skin. There was blood on your inner thighs. Your lips were swollen and cut. His blood heated until it hit a boiling point. His hands trembled as they hovered over you. Touching you  felt like a crime, but he had to wake you. He had to get you out of there.

        "(Y/N)." He whispered as he laid a hand on your shoulder. You were shivering in the cool air, but a thin layer of sweat blanketed your exposed flesh. He gave you a gentle shake. "((Y/N), c'mon. We gotta go." He pleaded softly.        

        Your body jerked and you jolted awake. You gave him no chance to explain as you scrambled to your knees and cowered away against the tree. 

        "(Y/N) it's me. It's Daryl." He attempted his most soothing tone of voice. "C'mon, let me get ya cleaned up."        

        He outstretched his arm, offering you his  hand. Without making eye contact you made a move to take it, but you were stopped by the restricting force of the rope that kept you anchored to the tree trunk. He moved quickly for the knife he tossed to the side earlier and returned with it. Without the pressure of remaining silent, he had your hands free in seconds.

        He wasted no time helping you to your feet and averting his gaze as he slid your pants up where they belonged. He found he had a hard time keeping his mind straight and focused as your weeping filled the quiet campsite. 

        "Shh.." He cooed, keeping one hand on your upper back as he ushered you along with him to gather his things and yours. A smart man would have rummaged through the belongings of the ones he killed, too, but he wasn't concerned with making a smart call at that point. He was only worried about you.

        "It's alright. C'mon. Let's get ya somewhere you can rest. It's alright. C'mon." He felt useless as ever, repeating the same generic words of comfort as you limped along beside him. He never urged you to up the pace, he didn't drag you along or have you carry your own bag. He felt like the least he could do was shoulder the weight of survival on behalf of you both. He couldn't get the image out of his mind of ou laying there,caked in blood, sweat, and bruises. A girl like you should have been caked in perfume and makeup. You hair should have been done up nice for a Sunday brunch, not matted with leaves and dirt. Your clothes should have been pristine and well fitting, unlike the filthy torn clothes that were beginning to hang off your frame like tender meat falling from the bone. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve any of it.

        Eventually he found an acceptable spot that looked like it could have been a den for a hibernating bear. It was a big shrub by a little stream, perfectly indented to give you both enough room to crouch under its foliage. He gently set you down, dropping his bow and your bags beside him. He crouched down in front of you and scanned you, worry written articulately over his features. 

        Your eyes remained glued to the ground. Your nose was upturned in disgust but your eyes told a different story; one of pain and despair and mourning for the person you were before that night. Your frown was deep enough to leave a scar. 

        "(Y/N)..." He breathed. Your eyes slowly found their way to his and welled with tears all over again. Of all things you had -- meaning, being alive and away from those men -- there was nothing you were more grateful for than his blue eyes staring back at you. You hated the way he looked at you with defeat and pity, though. You hated that he had one more thing to worry about. Still, he was there, and he was welcome. "Let's get ya cleaned up, okay?"

        You nodded once, if absentmindedly. Your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn't pinpoint their location, though. They were scrambled, swarming all around you, like gnats you couldn't swat away.

        He pulled an old shirt from his bag and leaned over to the stream, getting it nice and wet before wringing it out. He turned back to you and brought it up to your cheek, gently dabbing and swiping away at the dirt, grime, sweat, and blood. He moved on to your neck and hands, then he paused. You both looked down at your jeans. You knew it needed to be taken care of, and he did too, but the question was really about which one of you would be brave enough to work on the gruesome scene between your legs.

        One look at your expression and he knew it couldn't be you. But, how could it be him? He couldn't put you in such a vulnerable position. No, not him.

        That's when the lightbulb went off over his head. The stream, of course.

        "Here." He offered you a hand. You took it slowly and he led you to your feet. "Wanna get in the water?" He asked. You stared down at the serene flowing water, trickling just before your feet. He cleared his throat. "I don't gotta look."

        You almost could have laughed. After everything that had happened, Daryl seeing you bathe wasn't really a concern. Still, you had to maintain some shred of dignity, and washing those men off of you was a much needed stride toward leaving that horrid night in your past. So, you nodded, and he turned away to start a fire where you could warm up after rinsing off.

        The button was busted off of your jeans. You guessed they couldn't waste their time with something as simple as undoing a button. You let out a shaky sigh and gritted your teeth. You moved to bend over and slide your jeans down, but a searing pain shot through your insides. You whimpered. "I can't." You barely managed.

        "Huh?" He asked over his shoulder.

        "I can't." You spoke up with a tremble. "I can't get them off. It hurts."

        His throat tightened up. Had they really been so cruel to you?

        "Ya want me to..." He trailed off.

        "Please." You whispered and shut your eyes. He stood beside you and pulled your pants down to your ankles, kneeling down as he did so.

        "Grab my shoulder." He instructed softly. You did. "Left leg." He said. You pulled it out. "Now the right." 

        With your jeans off, he stood up and looked down at your face, which you his from him, avoiding his gaze. 

        "Your -- Uh.." He glanced down at your underwear. You nodded, not needing to see what he meant. He followed the same process with those and turned away as soon as he was done. You cleared your throat. 

        "Can you help me sit?" You whispered. He sucked in a breath. It wasn't that you were annoying him. Anything but that, actually. He was glad to help you in any way you needed. It was the simple fact that you needed the help that was eating him alive. The thought that those guys could hurt you in this way, to this extent, was infuriating and heartbreaking. 

        He turned back to you and hovered behind you, placing a hand under each arm to support you while you lowered yourself down into the water. Once you were sitting on the creek bed, you adjusted yourself and sighed.

        "Just, uh, watch for snakes, okay?" Was all he could say before turning his attention back to the fire finally.

        Your frown deepened as you stared down at your bloodied thighs. A plop beside you startled you before realizing it was just the old shirt he was using to clean you up.

        "Figured ya might need it." He mumbled.

        You gripped the cloth in your hand and stared at it. Blood and filth stained it. Your lip quivered as you ran it over your inner thighs, scrubbing your own dried blood away and watching it disappear in the gentle current. You hissed and winced as you cleaned yourself where you were really injured. 

        When you were done, you peered over your shoulder, where Daryl stared at the small flame. He felt your eyes on him and he looked up at you. 

        "Need some clothes?" He asked.

        "Please." You replied. He nodded once and rummaged through your bag. He could only find a semi-clean shirt, but no more pants. He pulled his own bag forward and searched for the new two-pack of boxers he'd scavenged awhile back. 

        "I, uh, didn't see no more pants, but... You can have those." He said, holding your shirt and the fresh boxers out to you.

        "Thanks." You pressed your lips into a thin attempt at a friendly smile. 

        He turned away again so you could change your shirt, but you needed his help with the boxers, which he did without you needing to ask, and without a single peek at you.

        He helped you back over to the den where you could warm up by the fire. You kept the blanket in your bag, so he made sure to wrap it around your shoulders while you sat.

        "Ain't got no food." He broke the silence after a little while. You nodded.

        "Not hungry anyways." 

        "Mm." He hummed. "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

----

        By midday, you were on the move again, trailing right behind him as he stomped slowly over the underbrush so you could keep his pace. He'd stop every now and then, and though he didn't say it, you knew it was because he didn't want to overwork you. 

        By late afternoon, the sun was on the far end of the sky, casting an orange glow over the woods. 

        Daryl had barely been able to look at you, and you couldn't exactly claim any different. You two had taken a break again, sipping water and scanning around for any game or edible plants.

        "I want ya to know.." He cleared his throat, shattering the thick silence that glazed over you both all day. "I want ya to know I didn't see it. None of it."

        "I know you weren't looking." You deadpanned.

        "Nah, not at the stream. I meant -- I didn't see none of it." He clarified. He had a sneaking suspicion the reason you couldn't bare to look at him might have been the possibility of him seeing what had happened to you. He, however, just hated seeing you look so broken, knowing had he been more vigilant yesterday, none of those guys would have been able to sneak up on him. You looked at him finally.

        "I know. They hit you over the head 'cause you were fighting them."

        "Mm." He nodded. "I just... I need to tell ya I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he looked down at his hands and back up to you. His leg was bouncing anxiously and his gums must have bled from how hard he chewed at them.

        "Why?" You pushed your eyebrows together.

        "I shoulda been lookin' out. Shoulda protected ya. Shoulda--"

        "You were. You have been." You cut him off. "You've looked out for me every day since the prison. You've been protecting me since the quarry. You protect everyone. That wasn't your fault." You insisted. He just looked back down at his hands and sniffled, blinking back tears. He scolded himself for being the one to cry, when you were the one who got hurt. "Hey." You pressed on. "Listen to me. You got us out of there. You took care of them. You saved me. Then, you still took care of me. If we were still back there, they would have killed you and robbed you by now. And, if they hadn't killed me yet, I'd be wishing I was dead. I wouldn't be here without you. I would have never survived even before last night without you, and I wouldn't be sitting here telling you that today if it weren't for you."

        He looked you in the eyes as you spoke every word. It was a great relief to him that you weren't angry with him -- that you didn't blame him. Still, he felt so uneasy.

        "Can we camp here?" You asked suddenly. He shrugged.

        "Yeah. We can." He agreed. His voice was still broken.

        "Can I sit with you?" You asked. He looked confused but he still nodded, even if he was unsure what you meant.

        Ignoring the aches all over your body, you crawled over to him and sat in front of him, between his legs, leaning your back against his torso. He was stiff, unused to being so close to someone, but he didn't resist. As you settled in and got comfortable, he rested his arms by your sides.

        "You didn't fail me, Daryl. Nobody makes me feel safer."

Join the taglist || Masterlist

#tw: implied abuse #tw: implied sa #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

What DPHW Means, and Its Relationship to Smirke's 14

The following contains spoilers for all of TMA, TMP (eps 1, 2, and 3 released currently if you’re in the future), and the ARG. Spoilers for all of this are throughout so I would advise against reading any of this unless you've listened to everything mentioned. It could also spoil episodes of TMP that have yet to release but if it does I don't think it will be a major spoiler. If I'm right I think I'm only right about a fairly trivial piece of information. 

Theory of Fears; or, Zur Furchtlehre

Part 1: Opticks

Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. With or without Dekker's +1. It is, however, necessary and correct. It has also been talked about ad nauseam and isn't a topic I want to dedicate a lot of time to. Smirke's 14+1, or even TMA in general, isn't the focus of this theory nor is it that relevant past its necessity as a point of comparison.

There aren't 14+1 distinct entities in the TMA cosmology. There is a singular entity that has been given divisions by fear and labels by those that have witnessed it. There is no objective line in which to draw these divisions. No matter where you put them or what you name them these concepts will always bleed into each other. Aspects of one Entity will manifest in another because the labels are invented and Fear is a storm of concepts crashing into each other. That's not a flaw in Smirke's list but its strength. A single entity of that scale is impossible to discuss in meaningful terms, the concept has too much gravity to be properly conceptualised and so an entire spectrum of fear must be divided in order to combat it. Categorisation is a vital part of TMA's cosmology and Smirke was as correct as anyone to put those lines down where he did. The real flaw with Smirke's list is forgetting the spectrum exists and stopping seeing the shades in between the Powers.

Finding a way to categorise this concept is important, but the methodology isn't. Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. The only truth is there is a singular whole. But branding goes a long way both in terms of research and in terms of following. This branding lacks accuracy though, it is in large part arbitrary and by its nature removes the shades and the bleed. TMP takes a different approach, one only hinted at, but one that I think is now fully explainable. 

Part 2: Lost in Translation

Perhaps the most interesting mystery in TMP thus far is DPHW. However, I think based on episodes 1 and 2 of TMP (and now 3), and the Klaus excel sheet from the ARG, we have all we need to explain its utility.

In order to show that conclusion in a satisfactory manner some basic facts need stating, and the order of my thoughts on those facts needs explaining. Firstly, each DPHW is 4 digits. Secondly, each DPHW is read as 4 numbers rather than, say, a pair of 2 numbers. Thirdly, these numbers can change independently of each other. Fourthly, incidents may share CAT#R#'s but have a different DHPW as found in the Klaus sheet (a German document listing OIAR-style incident reports). Finally, the German equivalent of DPHW is TSHU also found in the Klaus sheet. We can use those facts to determine something important. Each letter of this initialism is paired with a digit meaning that DHPW is a group of 4 categories. If that is true we can intuit some of its meaning. It is likely that these numbers are a rating of sorts for each category there. To prove that's the case we would need to know the categories and fortunately we have a starting point to understanding it, German.

If the categories that DPHW describes start with the letters TSHU in German then what needs to be done to find the categories is quite simple. You pair each letter up and then find a suitable word to categorise the supernatural whose first letter starts with the respective letter from the initialism in its language. D/T, P/S, H,H, W/U. After some brainstorming in the Statement Remains PLUS Discord server we had come up with strong candidates for 3 of the 4 pairs.

The first was Deadly/Tötlich, a seemingly solid start that gave this theory some legs. Next was Painful/Schmerzlich which was a distinct enough category for the threat of an incident that proved this was a strong direction to head it. H/H proved more troublesome. To my mind the two strongest contenders here were Hypnotic/Hypnotisch or Helpless/Hilflos. Both sound very reasonable but that in itself is a problem. However the last one was found relatively easily as Weird/Unheimlich. With 3 of the 4 it seemed like this was all but correct at this stage. However, I had been thinking about this backwards and it wasn't until I had a revelation that the pieces really fell into place.

Unheimlich sounded familiar when it was suggested but not in a way I could place. It wasn't until the next day that the aforementioned revelation happened. The ARG had a huge focus on Germany, and Ep 1 of TMP revealed why. FR3-D1 uses German source code which makes German the original language for the OIAR's methodology. Meaning DPHW is the translation, and I now think it's a shoddy one at best. The reason unheimlich sounded so familiar to me is because it's a fairly important part of psychology's history.

DPHW's Weird isn't weird, DPHW's Weird is uncanny. A direct translation could give you weird but a more accurate one, especially in this instance, gives you unheimlich. Unheimlich as in Jentsch's "Zur Psychologie des Unheimlichen", and Freud's "Das Unheimlich". Both of which are essays on the uncanny. It's all about the fear of the unfamiliar, and a central example of this is Olympia from Der Sandmann, a seemingly living doll.

The German word unheimlich is obviously the opposite of heimlich, heimisch, meaning “familiar,” “native,” “belonging to the home”; and we are tempted to conclude that what is “uncanny” is frightening precisely because it is not known and familiar... - Freud, The Uncanny

This is incredibly relevant to a lot of what has been discovered so far. The uncanny as a topic in psychology was kickstarted by two Germans, and a central part of their essays was the German Der Sandmann, and a German, SSandman, was a large presence in the ARG. The strength of this connection all but solidified this theory in my mind. And, briefly, this is also related to Masahiro Mori's uncanny valley hypothesis which I'm sure I won't need to explain.

The obvious way to test this is to take the few W ratings we have been given and compare them to the incident to which they're assigned. The first is from Ep 1, “dolls comma watching”, and was given a 7. This is a good start both in that a 7 feels appropriate as an "uncanny rank" but also that a doll is a focal point on the essays on the subject. Also in Ep 1 is "Reanimation (Partial)", again with a 7. Another very appropriate number. The last in Ep 1 is "Transformation (eyes)" with a 5. Certainly less uncanny than the previous examples so this is still strong. In Ep 2 we get a 5 for Bram Stoker's Dracula, which seems more than fair for a strange man like him, and a 7 for Frankenstein which gives parity for another story of the resurrected dead. Finally we get "Transformation (full)" at a 7, more uncanny than "Transformation (eyes)" which tracks nicely.

With what I felt was such a strong theory for the W/U pairing it helped clarify the ideas of the others. The final digit rating the uncanniness of an incident gives an idea of how these categories work and the breadth of their definitions. Up until this point I was leaning towards Hypnotic/Hypnotisch for our H/H pairing. But giving it more thought, and comparing it to TMA's own groupings, it becomes apparent that Helpless/Hilflos is more appropriate. Hypnotic effects are too aligned with things that would already be very aligned with Uncanny ones, the Stranger's Not!Them alter memories and prey on the fear of something being not quite right, so as a categorisation tool I think it makes less sense because of the greater overlap. Helpless on the other hand works better for things like The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Aspects which I don't think show up in our current other 3 groups. But given the current definition of the strongest category, the fear of the uncanny, I think that helplessness is a more apt label. The fear of helplessness. Which makes H Helplessness/Hilflosigkeit.

With this level of breadth established re-examination of the final two categories is warranted. Painful/Schmerzlich is more likely to be Pain/Schmerz. Not just incidents that are themselves painful but the fear of pain, possibly including the emotional. A comparison to TMA gives this rating a strong affiliation with Entities such as The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Similarly Deadly/Tötlich should now be broadened beyond the fear of things that will kill you, to the fear of death in a broader sense. Which makes D/T Death/Tod instead. To compare again to TMA this is The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Although, while I might be describing these ideas as the fear of ____ I think it's important to know that they do appear to be more conceptual in nature rather than just if something is scary or not.

Comparing each of these assumed categories against current DPHW’s strengthens this argument. “Dolls, watching” scored 1157. It’s a very low fear of death and pain, but they present a medium fear of helplessness and a high fear of the weird. For a fear that’s rooted in paranoia that makes good sense. “Reanimation (Partial)” got a very similar rating, at 5257, but it being a corpse cranks up its fear of death. “Transformation (eyes)” got 2155 which, again, seems to fall in place with what we know. It’s more human than the doll is so it’s less weird but a physical and alarming transformation naturally seems like more of a terminal concern. Combine that with some good ol' internet death threats and it's not nothing, but not much.

As a small aside, while it's not come up in the episodes so far the Klaus sheet shows DPHW's are 0-9. There is a good bit of evidence to suggest 0 might be read as 10 here. 0 most commonly showed up in that sheet for P and the incidents often had the notes "Kriegsvolk". Literally "war people" but more accurately "army/soldier". So pain of 10 for those would track better than P of 0, and it explains why things like the watching doll rate a 1 for D and P instead of a 0, and Dr. Webber's infection is a P of 1 despite entirely removing physical and emotional pain as it goes. Because 1 is the lowest.

For Ep 2 we start with Dracula scoring a 7465, he’s undead and a killer for high death, if he kills you it hurts but it’s not extreme, he’s both hard to physically stop and has mental tricks, and he’s just a weird dude in general who always seems off somehow. Frankenstein at 5337 has aforementioned parity with the reanimation incident as you’d expect but notably less on the helplessness rating as he is just a man. Next is “Transformation (full)” at 1567. This is generally a more severe rating overall than Transformation (eyes) and you’d expect that, but I think it does show something interesting. At no point did Daria want to end her own life. The transformation is far more severe, arguably looks more life threatening, and was clearly more painful but it is explicitly and repeatedly not about dying. I take that as a suggestion that these ratings take into account more than just the mundanely observable nature of the incident. She looks very sick which would make you think of death but it rates low for it because of the emotional, or maybe supernatural, purpose of the incident. She didn’t want to die, the manifestation didn’t try to kill her, and so despite its appearance it’s low on death.

Then finally in Ep 3, we have "Infection (full body)" with a 8175. (Although I'm assuming that's a misfile and it should be Infection (Arboreal)). I think D and H here are more interesting to dig into. P is pretty obvious it's the lowest rating because it seemed actively pain-numbing as it went. W being 5 tracks too is certainly uncanny and has strange geometry but it's not full Distortion levels. So with those two out of the way we can get to the good stuff. D is the most interesting of the two to me. Because while it's pretty clear he died I don't think that's got much to do with it. Rather I think the 8 is more specifically about the way it deals with death, decay, and rot in relation to new life and the growth of other things, plants and insects. Thematically, I think there is a lot more emphasis on death as a broader concept beyond the terminal nature of the infection. For Helplessness there is also an additional element beyond whether or not he was able to do something about the infection, and that's whether he wanted to. As the symptoms worsened his desire to treat them decreased. Initially he was worried about the infection and determined to seek attention when able, then he was happy to let someone else help instead (a hallucination, which makes things more helpless), before finally wanting it to happen. These sorts of elements are things I think we're going to see factor in quite a lot.

In summary; it is my belief that DPHW is a way to rate incidents that the OIAR catalogue based upon the strength of the fear they elicit in the categories of death, pain, helplessness, and weird (uncanny). This system is effectively the TMP equivalent to Smirke's 14 from TMA. Rather than assigning each statement to an Entity each incident is rated for those qualities. These systems are distinct methodologies but each is a way to categorise the supernatural.  

Part 3: On Analogy

That is the juicy bit of this post out of the way so now I have to put a bow on it and touch upon the overarching analogy here. As alluded to by the title and some turns of phrase, it's colour theory. It's a somewhat common analogy for TMA's fears but I think it applies in equal measure to TMP and taken together might provide an insight into how the cosmologies will differ. So, to me, colour theory is not only the perfect lens in which to view the Fears as a whole, it's the perfect lens to view these methodologies.

Smirke is Newton. He broke up a singular spectrum into wide chunks. The Dread Powers themselves are very analogous to a colour wheel. Colours bleed into each other and the boundaries of where one stops and starts is up for debate but red is still red, and blue is blue. That is a useful context for them, it aids discussion. Try talking about red without ever saying red and only referring to a representation of a divided whole. But all too similar to Newton's 7 colours Smirke's 14 lacks nuance, it lacks shade.

On the other hand we have DPHW and this is all shade. DPHW is CMYK. It's not one thing or another with DPHW. You don't have the pitfall of Smirke's methodology where one manifestation is in one arbitrary box. Here, assuming I'm correct, each incident is made up of constituent parts. The OIAR, and presumably its German forebear, are less interested in Smirke's occult ancient gods and more interested in bureaucratic precision. Smirke was doing research while the OIAR are doing administration. As such DPHW takes a wholly different approach. It's now all shades. This has its own problems in that it's harder to discuss in broad terms. It's such a specific methodology that it's lost a lot of what Smirke triumphed with. This is well represented already given that no one has been shown to know what it means at all yet. But if there is a truly different cosmology at play here we might see the axes of DPHW being where alliances fall.

All that leaves us with is a comparison of these two. The only way to really do that is to talk about how Smirke's 14+1 would fit in DPHW's system. This is something I touched upon briefly. Death is strongly related to The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Pain to The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Helplessness to The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Weird to the Stranger, or the Spiral. But that's not all of them and even within those it's already clear that something like The Vast isn't just about helplessness, and we've already seen Daria who would likely be an avatar of the Flesh rank highly in Weird. Which hits upon what I feel is the most interesting aspect of this entire theory. We've seen what happens with Smirke's boundaries on the Entities. We don't know if Entities even exist in this setting, or if they do exist whether they'll be the same ones, or even if they're not the same ones whether they'll function under similar rules. But now we get to see what happens when there aren't those boundaries. We get to see much broader mingling than TMA showcased. It was hinted at there, especially early on before the lore really settled, but now that mingling seems to be the whole point.

And as a brief mention, and to further labour the theme, I don’t think there is enough information to really discuss how CAT#R# works but there are some analogies to work with here. From the Klaus sheet we can infer that CAT# has the following values 1/2/3/12/13/23/123. Or three non-mutually exclusive groups. What those groups are is hard to say right now. There is some soul/body/spirit stuff for the alchemic tria prima that's got some nice connections but doesn't map well now that Ep 3 is out. Either way, this is RGB. An incident can be all red, or red and blue, etc. R#'s values we can infer to be C/BC/B/AB/A/S with maybe an AS in there too. That's a linear scale of similarly unknown value but could represent something like potency/threat. If that is the case then R# is saturation. Some things are more intense than others. We also know from the Klaus sheet that CAT is the German from the "kategorie" meaning "category" the R was from the German “rang” meaning “rank” and so probably has more meaning to it than currently implied.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp theories #tmagp theory #tmagp speculation #the magnus archives #tma theory #Reposted because I'm a human now #I was human before but Tumblr disagreed #klaus = kl4-u5

[jointherebellion215]

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly. 

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?” 

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands. 

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.”  You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.” 

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely. 

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her. 

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her. 

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd. 

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you. 

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile…. 

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.” 

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over. 

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love” 

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base. 

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred. 

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

#masters of the air #mota #john egan x reader #john egan x oc #john bucky egan #john bucky egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #john egan x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky egan fanfiction #mota spoilers #ken lemmons #gale cleven #buck and bucky #buck x bucky #john egan #bucky egan #crank cruikshank #charles cruikshank #curt biddick #buck cleven #gale buck cleven #harry crosby #bubbles payne #hbo war #hbo war fanfic #hbo war fandom #hbo war oc

[raygunny]

Tav's Name

Word count: 661

The party finds out that 'Tav' is actually just a nickname. She refuses to tell them what it's short for, which is very unlike her. Cue the burning curiosity from the whole camp. Everyone approaches her in their own way.

Karloch tries the direct approach - essentially bugging Tav throughout the day. 'Just checking if you want to tell me now', she says with a grin each time. Reassuring Tav that if it's embarrassing, she'll try her best not to laugh. It's all in good fun though, no real pressure. She just likes teasing Tav about it at this point.

Wyll keeps throwing out names like she's Rumpelstiltskin. He starts out strong with 'Octavia', but towards the end of the day he's really scraping the bottom of the barrel. Tav's not sure why he's even trying this strategy - she already told him she wouldn't confirm or deny his guesses. She suspects that he and Gale made some sort of bet to see who can figure it out first. He finally gives up when he wholeheartedly guesses, 'Tavern?'

Speaking of Gale, he keeps trying to casually bring it up in conversation. 'You know, I was reading a fascinating book the other day about the power of names. I'd be remiss if I didn't offer to look yours up - if you wanted to of course. Our little secret', he says with a wink. He's so bad at being casual. She just shakes her head at each worsening attempt, it almost makes her want to tell him out of pity. Or to get him to stop pestering her, she's not quite sure.

Astarion thinks to himself, how could I have missed this? - followed up by - and why won't she tell us? Between the two of them, he's the one that's usually keeping secrets - not the other way around. How very intriguing. He tries to charm it out of her, 'I just want to know what name to call out next time we have a little midnight rendezvous', he says with that charming smirk on his face. When she dodges all his tricks and refuses to budge, that's...irritating to say the least. He can't stop thinking about her though, well her name that is. Ahem.

Shadowheart is not really all that interested in trying to coax out Tav's secrets. As a follower of Shar, she respects the secrets of others. And if Tav isn't telling them, then it must be for a reason. That still doesn't stop her from at least trying. 'I would share one of my secrets if you share yours', she says late at night when it's just the two of them by the fire. It's unlike her, but she's grown very fond of Tav. She can spare one small secret, she tells herself.

Lae'zel really couldn't care less about what Tav's full name is. Nickname or not - the only important thing is that Tav responds when Lae'zel yells her name out in battle. After watching the group pester her all day, she doesn't even ask. Though, that doesn't mean she hasn't been keeping an ear out when the others have made their attempts.

Halsin, the respectful yet smooth guy he is, tells her with a soft smile, 'While I am quite curious and would love to hear what I'm sure is a very lovely name, I am perfectly content with whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me. Tav suits you well after all'. That almost gets it out of her, but she stays resolute. She can't give in so easily. Perhaps another night, she thinks.

There are no dark secrets or skeletons in the closet for Tav, but it does turn out Wyll was right - her first name is actually Tavern. She's always found it a little embarrassing, but it's not her fault that she was born in one and her folks just ran with it. She'll hold onto this secret till a day where she knows they all need a morale boost. She's sure she'll never hear the end of it.

#whoops guess I'm not just writing prompts anymore #let me know what you guys think! I could use the feedback #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #tav #astarion/tav #karloch #shadowheart #gale of waterdeep #halsin #lae'zel #astarion #wyll ravengard #yes this is still vaguely an astarion/tav situation #I have a problem #astarion x tav

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Your love life situation now"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read about your current love situation (self, platonic, romantic), what you may need to do or how you can deal with it to make it better, make it evolve or change. reminder I don't read the energy of crushes you are not at least slightly in contact with.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

I think you are the pile already in a relationship or something of that type: even if it's not official/labeled, it's like it is (or will be soon, yay you!). For some of you things may go well at this time (especially if you're in a knowing each other-stage/first dates) but for others, there may be difficult times (which is okay in every relationship, it happens for things to go "bad" here and there). The message here is to remind yourself of why you got together, and that you can always talk about your feelings, without the fear of being judged or abandoned (as it probably happened in your past relationships, please be aware of your triggers and fears). Some of you are probably over-stressing on something that is not that big as your fears and triggers want you to believe. A direct calm open communication with your partner could help you solve it all and find your way back to happiness and stability. The choice is yours ofc. I think you need to learn that you can overcome obstacles with your partner, the moment you know you're both being open, true and you can trust and respect each other for the people you are. Nurture yourself as different people but together, nurture your relationship and talk about your needs, both yours and theirs. You don't have to be the only one carrying the weight of the connection and the emotional stress of it.

And if it's your situation, I want to remind you that stressing over what someone else may think of you and each of their reactions over you (either if you're together but even more if you don't know where you stand despite the signs -for a few) won't change anything but just bring more confusion to you. You cannot control them nor their emotions or what they think of you, you cannot really understand every move cause you may be analyzing them through your eyes, your life experience and your triggers, and that won't bring you any objective real answer. You can control what you make mean about you every and each of their behaviours and words (these don't change your worth or deservance); and you can only control yourself and how you behave and think. Without a real honest conversation, it's hard to really read someone else's mind, especially if it's someone we see through the eyes of love, need and fear (of losing/hurting us) too. BTW you don't have to be the first one hurting them if you fear being hurt by them. You can still talk about it: it could just be an exaggeration of your mind feeling unsafe in a new situation (or in the revival of an old similar one).

song: you give love a bad name | bon jovi

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pile 2

Slightly different from pile 1, you may be in a situationship that's not so defined yet or there may be someone interested in you (and you in them) and you may be more or less in contact with them already... somehow. Or you have been in the past (not exes tbh, more like an old acquaintance or "friend").

There's some kind of test going on, maybe not for everyone but for some of you: it's to see if you're ready to let love in for real (for some it could be the first love/crush and may have fears related to their vulnerability and openness, may have some walls around their heart). You may be experiencing confusion in your situation, and try to find a balance within but it's not so easy ofc. You're called to ground yourself and remember that you can stay in control only of your own life (same message I got for pile 1 in the last paragraph) and that you shouldn't change yourself to please anyone, especially someone you're supposed to fall in love with. Masks in love are never useful, they won't help you grow, they'll just make things and *your* life more complicated. Even knowing in details about this person's feelings for you (which you may be stressing on the most and that's also pretty normal/common) won't make it any different: this is your need to know that things will go well before taking a move, to calm your mind and anxiety. But we cannot control others and we cannot always know it all beforehands: at times we just have to wait, try our best and see. To take a risk: even if it won't go well this time, we'll survive and we'll have made a nice experience. Someone not liking you as you'd like to, doesn't mean you're not worthy or you need to change yourself for them: it just means you're not good for that person (and very likely vice versa). Stay true to who you are. Ofc I'm not telling you to go ahead and confess your love out of the blue. What I'm saying is: take your time. Rushing for an answer or for a result, takes away the joy of knowing the other and experiencing other situations with them. It takes you away from the present life, which is what you're here to live. Don't stress over the future, enjoy your now. Live it well and fully. Focus on learning about the other and falling in love moment after moment. Let them fall for you too (some may need a bit more time and effort, some may fall for us first and we need more time and effort to realize our feelings -especially if we don't get the usual "butterflies in the stomach", which may happen too). Whatever it will be in the future, it'll never be time wasted.

Anyway, change in sight in love. BUT please, do let things take their time. Never rush them. Accompany your person and yourself in this path of knowing each other and enjoying each other company first. Or find ways to communicate a bit more, without stressing too much about saying the wrong thing: just be you. I think for a bunch of you, there's someone that will come in your life just for you, but you may end up being in contact with someone else before, again to kinda test you and see where you at in your healing about love (if applies), or to give you another pov/experience in love matters/to make you ready for them.

BTW: what is love for you? (and don't answer "baby don't hurt me don't hurt me no more" please lol)

song: 21 questions | 50 cent, nate dogg

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pile 3

You may be single ("and ready to mingle") and pretty lonely atm. You may have friends around you ofc (or you may be searching for them and not romantic love), but none is a *possible* love interest. I think you're not seeing what is going on around you, and possibly you're not even supposed to. TBH, this pile could also be about self love.

Now, if you are searching for romantic or platonic love, something is being prepared. And it may happen quite suddenly as well. Maybe you don't expect that cause you've been alone for a while, but you know, things can change at any given minute, especially if you too have changed/worked on yourself. "Let yourself be surprised, get ready". It seems you will receive a long awaited gift, maybe also in a quite sudden and weird way too, like through a new endeavour or idea or an invitation somewhere, and you deciding to give it a try even if it's something you generally wouldn't have done. So yeah, it will happen when and how you least expect it. Try to stay calm and enjoy the process, focus on you, remember you can afford anything, even new things and uncomfortable unknown situations (you may be a bit rusty when it comes to making friends/knowing people). You're stronger than you can imagine. This is something that is going to heal you on different levels, especially your inner child (maybe you'll learn to receive your desires again). You can really write your story here, just let Universe surprise you. To get there, try to not let worries sabotage you: start by slowly getting to know you and your fears, what you need and desire in love/friendship. Be open about your real needs: do not downplay them or deem them as too much. Maybe journal/write them down. How should your partner be and behave with you? Try to envision their character/traits and, try also to be objective by acknowledging also their own needs and possible boundaries. What could you compromise on and what not? Be the first one giving to yourself, acknowledging your needs and respecting/loving yourself. By entering this energy, you'll attract people that will balance it too and help you heal (and vice versa).

For those that may have been dealing with a break up or some love-related trauma and now may need to heal themselves: take your time to heal and grieve on what has been. Process your feelings with no fear, and allow to give yourself closure on this situation by letting it all out (move, journal...). Take yourself on a date, know and love your self again. Meet your needs, be nice and respect your own pace. Talk with others, and just go slow. However you are feeling, it's valid. This is a reminder that someone will come in your life just to stay and love you as you deserve, but first you need to be ready for them and don't let the triggers and unmet needs this relationship left inside of you, ruin that beautiful bond. Close with all that pain, get back to yourself. "And let yourself be surprised".

song: promise | ciara

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #divination #clairs readings #tarot readings #psychic readings #tarot reading #intuitive readings

[weirdmarioenemies]

SURPRISE! Did you think the day would come when we would cover Love Live on this blog? I didn't!

Yohane the Parhelion: Blaze in the Deepblue is the Metroidvania-style game based on the fantasy spin-off of Love Live Sunshine, but you probably don't care about that! Statistically speaking, our target audience is Bogleech readers who are deeply revolted by anime girls!

So why bring up? Why bring it up? The answer is 🐠 FUNNY FISH! It's Funny Fish Friday!

Since this game is set in an underwater temple, the enemies this game are all based on sea creatures, and that's cool! Again, statistically speaking, you probably think sea creatures are cool. I really liked seeing the variety of enemies when playing through this game, so I thought it'd be fun if I could share them with an audience of people who otherwise wouldn't care! None of the enemies really have names, as far as I'm aware of. But I'll do my Rubesty...?

Our first guy we encounter in the game is the sort of guy who emerges from the ground like the Zombies from Castlevania, and wow! A good first impression I think. It is sort of a squid mantle, if the mantle was also a cloak for a spooky sort of wizard! The way it doesn't really have a 'face' in the hood and the eye is below really makes it seem like a weird mimic creature. Cool!

They also get a tough lategame variant which looks like a mix between a flapjack and a vampire squid. You don't often see flapjacks be designed as scary!

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Next is Barnacles! A whole clump of them, like a cake. They shoot Energy Balls at you. Is this what Barnacles can do if they combine their powers...? The top actually opens up, and it looks a lot like a sea urchin's mouth! So maybe it is some sort of naked urchin creature covered in barnacles? Game Theory!

There are also barnacles with Ice Powers. Like real life!

---

Let's give it up for Garden Eel!!!!

What a fine Garden Eel it is! Complete with the sort of grumpy face, and with the addition of two little arms that make it look like it's praying or maybe a bit shy. But it is mean! It also spits energy balls at you, then hides in the hole so you can't hit it. How very sneaky!

SO sneaky, in fact, that these eels have mastered the art of ninjutsu! The ninja eel shows up for a split second in one single room, before smoke bombing away. You'd have to use a time freeze power to get him, but I never got around to doing that. I don't have any beef with a ninja eel! I respect him and his training!

Did someone say CTENOPHORE? I hope you did, or my hearing has really gotten worse. This thing is a grade A ctenophore, only with a ring of Scary Teeth! A little scary to think of a ctenophore who could Bite you, but nonetheless this deserves a :ctenopog:!

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Let's not forget Fish Vortex! Fish Vortex was the first guy to make me go 'wow, this game's enemies really are awesome!' So of course I had to put him at the top of the post! He is my selling point! I am selling all these enemies to you. For 4.99 a pop!

Anyway. This design is just so funny and cool at the same time. A swirling school of fish that leads into an endless dark abyss, and in the middle, a big eyeball. Also covered in fish. It shoots fish at you! Yay!

There is also a pink variant - it shoots fish that give you the Solitude status effect, which basically just makes Yohane too depressed to summon her friends. Meaning? They are Depression Fish! Maybe she just becomes so jealous of the unity and teamwork of these sardines. She's me like just for real! ^_^

---

isopot :)

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This slug is an umbrella. That is ridiculous! Ridiculously EPIC! It does the opposite of shield you from rain, which is create rain, that kills you. But I would still want one as an umbrella.

---

When I first saw this thing, I thought it was some strange round Echimoderm I had never heard of. But upon further inspection (I actually asked Mod Chikako shh), it is obviously like a Brittle Star, with each arm folded round to form a wheel! How creative and fun! It even has a bunch of eyes like a starfish!

---

Last but not least- sushi! There are sushi guys and they are cute. They don't really do much and are typically found in their own rooms, so I'm not sure what the point of them is. But finding a funny walking sushi should be a reward in of itself, I guess! Look at their funny rice feet! Or the one with the roe eyes!

I happened to use fire magic on one of them and this happened. Oopsies...

Now I am sure you are saying, thank you for showing me all these funny enemies. But are there any cool bosses? Of course there are, me! What's a Metroidvania without cool bosses? So I shall show you my favorites without delay!

First is this freak (affectionate)! It is a sort of amalgamation of lots of different animals and I think it just looks plain cool! Two squid mantles combined into one, a bit of a sea angel shape, bug legs and of course a great big eyeball!

If it is not freaky enough for you, let it be known that the bug legs turn into big green skeleton hands, and it also keeps getting pinker, and it grows new eyes and then extra horns grow out of those eyes. If THAT is not freaky enough for you then I am sorry but I cannot do anything about that.

---

Now, how about a sampling of this Freaken Thang? It honestly doesn't seem that sea-creature themed, but it uses seashells so I guess it counts!

What is really neat is that this boss has two different forms, upside down and rightside up! When it is upside down it looks a bit like a Magolor type creature. And of course, I really like the flame thing in the middle as well, that really feels like a Kirby enemy or something! Like a wisp made of plasma!

---

Fans of Anomalocaris won't be disappointed by this one! It's a big Anomalocaris tank and boy is it cool! There's something for everyone here, whether you're an Anomalocaris purist or you've always wanted to see it turn into a sort of futuristic beast with a screen mouth that shoots lasers! It really is the future, zura...

---

After covering all these wacky creatures, I'm going to have to end it off with the final boss! What could the big bad, the ultimate boss of all these sea monsters even be, I wonder? Well, it's...

...a coelecanth. Just a big coelacanth! It is big and blue! And really, does it need to be anything else? It is such an honor to make the biggest ultimate boss a coelacanth. It is even pretty cute!! Think he's smiling! 😊

Uh oh! Is it still cute? I guess so. My first thought seeing this was of course the world-renowned tongue eating isopod, so I really hope it was an intentional reference! It probably just wants to shake hands. Still, a pretty simplistic design for our final boss, right?

Buu buu! Its true form actually looks like this! Actually, it's kind of doing too much. Like let's tone it down a little?

So!! We beat the mega ultra coelacanth, and now we can find out what his motivation is! And it is... that he is the memories of the people of the past or something. And they all didn't want to be forgotten, so they turned into fish monsters! But we forgive them!

It doesn't really matter. All the girlies gather around and sing him a song. Look how happy he is! I forgot I was talking about a Love Live game until now, actually. All's well that ends well, the end, et cetera! Hit it, Yohane! [imagine this is like the end of a kids movie where all the Love Live girls are having a dance party and there is a shot of the big coelacanth in jail and he's tapping his mouth fingers along to the beat]

#funky friday #yohane the parhelion #genjitsu no yohane #yohane the parhelion: blaze in the deepblue #not mario #mod f boy #yes it was me! i was the weeb mod who played the love live game! #and now i must burden you all! #i wrote this all in one go hooray for ritalin #tw anime girls

[kwanisms]

Run Rabbit, Run — k.seungmin

» stray kids masterlist «

➮ vampire!Seungmin × f!Reader wc: 20.5k (sorry. it happened again lmao) summary: Seungmin is a vampire and has lived a very long life and seen many ages pass him by. He’s grown weary of immortality until he meets someone one random night who really puts things into perspective for him. genres/themes/au: angst, smut; supernatural and vampiric themes, gothic undertones, predator/prey dynamics, s2l; non idol au, vampire au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, Seungmin is a vampire so drinking blood and feeding from humans is a given, alcohol consumption (Y/N has a couple drinks), Seungmin is still a predatory creature so he has some… thoughts about that, minor character death, attempted SA (but nothing happens), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! special taglist: @yoonguurt , @lvelicky , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip , @wh0r3mir4 Join the taglist! »» Closes 10/30 @ 23:00 CST Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.

a/n: this one was so much fun. Seungmin is such a wild card when it comes to writing. He fits innocent types but he also fits these savage/predatory roles really well! Thank you for reading and if you enjoyed this, please reblog or comment your favorite part! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (he’s a vampire. This ain’t twilight. But you aren’t a vampire, so use protection), blood play, orgasm control, predator/prey play, dacryphilia, use of pet names (little rabbit, sweetheart, doe, pet, etc), Seungmin is kinda mean but he also leans a little heavy into the predator role but jokes on him cause Y/N is into it so who’s the real winner here? If I missed anything just let me know.

dialogue prompt: ❛ Why are you shaking? You’re not scared of me are you? ❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Eternity. Humans use the word so freely. 

I promise to love you for eternity. I want to live for eternity. Death is eternal.

Seungmin knew that the last one was correct. Death is eternal and it will last forever. But love? Eternal love didn’t exist. Not in the literal definition of eternal. Mortals die and then that is eternal. The love they experienced before their demise is fleeting and perishes with them.

The only thing that was eternal other than death was the waking hell Seungmin had endured for centuries; life eternal. It was supposed to be a gift. He was told it was a gift and initially, he believed it. Getting to stay young and live a long life. All he wanted was to live for a long time.

But as the ones around him withered and died, Seungmin came to see this “gift” as a curse. Life eternal was part of a bigger scam. Creating an army of vampires to take over the world. Or at least that’s what he thought. He’d been changed upon his request and then left alone. No guidance, no mentor, nothing to help him navigate this new life he’d been unceremoniously dropped into.

Seungmin had to learn as he went, adapting and changing at a much quicker rate. He made mistakes along the way but eventually he found a path and stuck to it. It wasn’t until those around him started dying of old age, people he’d grown up with, that he started to see the error he’d made.

Each generation that passed, Seungmin grew more and more dissatisfied with life as an immortal. He stopped forming relationships and bonds with people because he’d lived this story so many times, he knew how it ended. It was better to not feel. Better to not get attached.

He moved from continent to continent, city to city. Perhaps that was the only good thing about living for so long. Being able to see more in his infinite lifetime than a mortal could see in their limited years. Decades turned into centuries and Seungmin had been to more cities and countries than he could count. He’d seen more and done more than anyone could ever hope to see or do.

So why was he still so [word]? He’d been given the gift of immortality, he’d been to so many places and seen so much and yet… none of it filled the void in his soul. None of it left him feeling fulfilled or satisfied with life. He still held so much disdain for his existence.

Even as he stood on the edge of the cliff, looking down at the vast forest below. It was a great fall, one that would surely kill a man before he even hit the ground but Seungmin was no mere man. Would a fall from this distance even leave a mark on him? Would his body break and finally free him from this cursed life? He had no way of knowing. It wasn’t exactly like he’d been given a manual on this.

How to Commit Suicide as a Vampire for Dummies wasn’t a title that would ever grace the shelves of Barnes & Noble. He’d have to just try. It was trial and error at this point. He’d tried so many different things. Poison didn’t even register. Knives and swords did nothing, not even a wooden stake through the heart had come close to killing him. Bullets did nothing either and they were annoying to remove.

He’d tried drowning himself in the ocean only to discover he didn’t need to breathe. He’d tried starvation only for his instincts to kick in at the last minute and force him to feed on whatever was nearby. He’d tried jumping from other heights but none this high.

If this didn’t work, he felt the only thing that might kill him was extreme pressures.

Seungmin was so absorbed in his own thoughts of death that he didn’t realize he was no longer alone.

You stared at the man, noticing how close he was to the edge of the clearing. A fall from this height would surely kill him. You glanced up at his face and could help but stare. You’d never seen such… sadness before.

He looked as if he was deep in thought. You glanced out over the forest below and then back at the man. ‘Surely he isn’t thinking about jumping,’ you sincerely hoped silently.

A simple hike in the mountains was what you had expected when you came to this national park. What you hadn’t expected was to find a man standing on the edge, possibly about to end his life. You glanced around the clearing to find it was just the two of you.

Looking back at the man, you were reminded of your own struggles with depression, thoughts of suicide, almost attempts but in the end, it got better and so did you. You wondered if it would make a difference in his life whether you stopped him now. Even if just to lend a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, keeping your eyes fixated on the man. You stopped a few paces behind him but kept a good few feet between you. Turning your gaze from his profile, you looked over the trees below.

“What a view,” you said softly. Your voice must have startled him because his head snapped to look at you, alarm etched on his face. You kept your gaze over the trees, looking around and taking in the splendor of it all. The man kept his gaze focused on you. “It’s so beautiful,” you continued, still not looking at him.

Out of your periphery, you could see him turn his head back to look out over the forest. “It’s the same as all the others,” he said softly. “All the others?” you asked, finally turning your head to look at him. You allowed yourself to actually look at him this time, focusing on the details you couldn’t see before.

His smooth, flawless complexion, the reddish brown color of his hair blowing in the gentle breeze. He wore a simple white button down under a black blazer and black slacks. He looked like he just came from an office job. Not dressed for a hike in the mountains.

He had no supplies, no wilderness gear, no backpack or sleeping bag.

It hit you then and made your heart rate speed up as you hoped you were wrong.

‘He’s come here to die.’

You looked around, trying to think of anything you could to distract him.

“Have you been to a lot of forests then?” you blurted out. He turned his head to look at you, brows knitting together in confusion. “What?” he asked, his voice a little louder this time. He looked and sounded genuinely confused by your question.

“You said it’s the same as all the others. So you must have been to a lot of forests to make that statement,” you replied. ‘Yes, this is good, Y/N. Keep him talking. Keep him distracted.’

“Do you travel a lot?”

The man stared at you, a look of perplexion on his face. Almost as if he was wondering why you were even talking to him in the first place. “I’ve heard the forests in the Carpathian Mountains are gorgeous this time of year,” you continued, looking away from him. “The changing of leaves, the cool autumn air, the influx of wildlife preparing for winter hibernation,” you said with a smile.

“I’ll bet it’s beautiful--”

“It is,” he said, cutting you off. You turned to look at him. His eyes were still on you. “A little colder than you’re probably imagining though,” he added. “Transylvania is also beautiful this time of year,” he continued. You took a cautious half step forward. “Have you been to Romania?” you asked.

His shoulders shook in silent laughter, amusement on his face for a brief moment. “I’ve been all over,” he replied. “Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia,” he listed off. “I’ve even spent time in the Antarctic.” Your eyes widened with wonder. “For work or…?” you trailed off as he shook his head. “Not exactly,” he answered.

“I’ve lived a very unique… life,” he added, forcing the last word out after some consideration. You tilted your head curiously. “Would you tell me about it?” you asked. He turned his head again, meeting your gaze and a shiver went up your spine. It was almost as if looking into his eyes flipped your flight or fight response and every nerve in your body was telling you to run but you couldn’t.

Not because you were frozen in fear but because this man, a man who was on the verge of possibly throwing himself off the edge of a cliff, thousands of feet off the ground below had lived a unique life and if getting him to talk about it meant he’d step away from the cliff and live his life a little bit longer, then you couldn’t run.

Not if it meant he lived.

He scoffed and turned back to the cliff. “What are you? Some kind of shrink?” he asked, a bitter sound to his voice. You shook your head. “No,” you replied. “You just look like you have a lot of stories to tell,” you continued. “And if you’d like. I’ll listen to you.”

Seungmin didn’t know why, but when he looked at you, he felt as if he could talk to you and that you might actually listen to him. Something deep in him was telling him to talk to you. To keep living a little while longer, even if just to share his stories with you because you were right.

He had a lot of stories.

He found himself spilling almost everything to you. His weariness with life, his solitude, and his exhaustion. He was exhausted with everything. He had grown almost sick of living, sick of being alone, and sick of being alone for so long.

The best thing about you, Seungmin noted, was that you didn’t interrupt or judge him. You listened with rapt attention but it didn’t feel forced or fake. Your genuine curiosity was refreshing and although he knew he shouldn’t get attached, Seungmin found himself craving your company.

Perhaps it was because he’d been alone for so long and you were the first person to show him any interest beyond flirtation or sexual desire. He was unaccustomed to such attention after centuries of not experiencing it and this was the first conversation he’d had with a mortal in ages.

Seungmin took a deep breath, having finished the story of his most recent trip to Europe. A trip that spanned months and took him to places most people never think to visit. The sun had long set since he started his stories and the sky was beginning to lighten, indicating he’d spent the whole night talking.

But more importantly, you’d spent an entire night listening to him. Mortals had such a short time on the planet and yet you’d chosen to spend an entire night listening to him tell you stories of his life and his travels.

And you had actually listened to him.

“Sorry for taking up your whole night,” Seungmin said, glancing back at the sky as it started to lighten into shades of blue and purple. You shook your head, lifting your head from its resting place against your hand. “Not at all,” you replied. “It was fascinating. Thank you for sharing with me,” you replied.

“I’m sure you need to get going,” Seungmin said as you stood up from the log you’d taken a seat on next to him. “What about you?” you asked, looking down at him. Seungmin stood up, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I think I’ll walk with you,” he answered. “Are you heading back to your car?”

You nodded. “I was only supposed to hike up and spend the night,” you replied, starting to walk and he kept pace with you. “And I guess in a way I did that,” you added with a chuckle, one that Seungmin shared. The walk back was punctuated by more stories, not nearly as grand as the ones he’d shared before. Smaller stories about random events and chance encounters on his travels.

The sun was climbing above the trees as the two of you reached the bottom of the mountain, the small gravel parking lot coming into sight where your cat sat, waiting for your triumphant return. “This has probably been the most interesting conversation I’ve ever had,” you started as Seungmin stopped a few paces from your car and you turned to look at him.

“Thank you again,” Seungmin said. “For listening to me.” You offered him a dazzling smile, one that might have taken his breath away had he not already been dead. “Thank you for allowing me to listen,” you replied. You turned and opened the hatch on the back of your car, removing and placing your pack in the back before shutting the door and heading around to the driver’s side.

Seungmin realized at that moment that he’d never gotten your name nor had he shared his.

“Wait,” he called, stepping forward. You hesitated as you pulled open the door and looked up at him.

“What’s your name?” he asked. A smile spread over your face. “Y/N,” you answered.

Seungmin smiled the first genuine smile in years. “Y/N,” he repeated. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Seungmin.” Your smile widened slightly as you finished pulling open your door. “It’s good to meet you, too,” you replied. “See you around, yeah?” you asked before ducking your head and getting into the car.

Seungmin watched as you backed out of your spot and waved at him one last time before pulling out of the parking area and disappearing through the trees on the dirt road, leaving him alone in the clearing.

“Yeah,” he said softly to himself. “See you around.”

The funny thing about time when one has lived as long as Seungmin is that days, weeks, even months, go by in the blink of an eye. At least until Seungmin had met you. Suddenly, life seemed to drag on yet still, days went by, turning into weeks and yet all that occupied his mind was his meeting with you. The random hiker who had somehow managed to save his life.

He’d tried to find you but to no avail. He only had a single name to go off of. Several times, he’d gone back to the national forest, trying the same hiking trail he’d met you on and even trying others but he had no luck it would seem. Finding you was starting to seem impossible. 

Despite being a mostly lonely creature, Seungmin did have one contact he’d kept over the years.

Wonpil.

Seungmin had met the man during a brief stint in the military, meeting the combat medic who turned out to be the same as him, an immortal. A friendship was formed and over the years, even if they hadn’t seen one another for decades, their bond remained intact.

In the modern age, Seungmin could rely on Wonpil for three things.

Loyalty

Perspective

And blood in the form of blood bags.

He never asked how Wonpil was able to acquire them without rousing suspicion but the how wasn’t exactly important. In a day where everyone carried a phone with cameras and facial recognition almost everywhere, Seungmin had to be careful not to feed from living people.

Most immortals who lived in the modern age had switched to feeding from animals, going hunting in the forests instead of feeding from humans. It was safer but even so, one wrong move and an immortal could be caught on camera feeding from a deer or some other woodland critter.

Seungmin had tried the animal diet when he lived in areas closer to the wild but in the city, one was limited on options. So Wonpil, with his job in the hospital, was able to sneak around and steal blood bags without anyone finding out.

It had worked out so well for this life as they were in the same area for once, settled into false identities but Seungmin’s was about to expire. He needed to move on, start anew to avoid drawing attention. He could only pretend to be thirty for so long until suspicions arose.

During one of their meetups so Wonpil could deliver Seungmin’s monthly supply of blood, Seungmin had told his friend of his chance encounter in the woods and Wonpil found it both endearing and amusing. He’d told Seungmin to stop focusing and obsessing over one woman. “You need to go out there and get laid,” he chuckled. Seungmin rolled his eyes.

“I don’t need to get laid,” he retorted, taking the messenger bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Not in this day and age,” he added. Wonpil snorted, crossing his arms as he looked over his shoulder. “This day and age is perfect for that,” he replied.

“No one wants a relationship. They just want something casual,” he added. Seungmin shook his head. They’d had this conversation before but he was still reluctant. What if he ended up liking the person too much? He’d get attached and then just end up hurting them when he inevitably had to leave.

He was far too reluctant to get himself into that situation. Wonpil sighed and placed a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder. “Suit yourself,” he said before patting him and walking away. Seungmin returned home after that and went about his usual routine of cleaning up and putting away his supply.

It was a few days later that things completely changed.

He’d gone by a coffee shop to meet Wonpil for something, he couldn’t even remember what. It’s not like he needed the coffee or any other item the shop offered. It just made them look normal. Made them blend in more.

Wonpil had left after his business and Seungmin had gotten up to leave when he bumped into someone as he reached the door. The sudden action caused him to spin away from the door as did the person who he bumped into, spinning to face him and Seungmin couldn’t believe his eyes.

There you were, looking back at him, shock on your face.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, seconds stretching into minutes as the two of you stared at one another unmoving, unblinking. Seungmin found it hard to hear anything happening around him. Like everything had been muffled the way the world sounded when one submerged themselves in water.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

As if that was the magic word to break the spell, just as quickly as the world stopped, it picked up again. The sounds of chatter, the sounds of the coffee and espresso machines, the ding of the cash register and the ringing of the bell at the door as new patrons flooded in.

“Seungmin,” you said softly, your lips spreading into another one of your dazzling smiles. “Hey,” Seungmin said, mirroring your smile. “How have you been?” you asked and he stepped aside as someone tried to squeeze past him.

“I’ve been okay,” Seungmin admitted. “A lot better than that day, actually,” he added. Your smile widened, a brief spell of relief washing over your face. “Good,” you said with a nod. “I’m glad to hear that.” Seungmin noted how a silence fell between you but he had no idea what to say.

He’d never experienced this. He’d never not been able to keep a conversation going before. He’d never felt like a school boy talking to his childhood crush before. It was foreign to him. Finally, a feeling he’d never experienced. Something new.

“I wondered if you were just passing through,” you admitted as you stepped aside, pulling the strap of your bag back up on your shoulder as patrons filed past the two of you. “If you weren’t living in the city but instead just on your way through.”

Seungmin shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I live here. Not in this neighborhood,” he added. “But a few blocks north.” Silence again. Why was he so bad at this? Had your first meeting been this awkward and he’d blocked it out because he’d been so focused on wanting to end things?

“Are you staying?” he asked suddenly. You tilted your head in confusion. “Here,” Seungmin added. ‘No. Stupid. You need to elaborate further.’ “What I meant,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Are you getting your order for here?” Your confusion melted away, a small smirk presenting itself.

“I’m on my way to work actually,” you answered. Seungmin felt his heart sink just a little before he had an idea. “Would it be alright if I walked you?” The words left his lips before he could even register them. Your smirk morphed into a bright smile and you nodded. “I just need to place my order,” you said, pointing at the counter.

Seungmin nodded and pointed towards the door. “I’ll just wait out here for you,” he answered. He could have waited inside with you but the cafe was starting to get crowded. Too many warm bodies and where there were warm bodies, there was blood. He needed to clear his head.

Thankfully you didn’t find this odd, only nodding before joining the queue.

Outside the cool autumn air helped Seungmin quell his thirst. Pushing back the beast that threatened to rear its ugly head and make him do something that he would regret. ‘You only have a couple weeks left before you have to leave,’ he reminded himself.

But for some reason, reminding himself of that made him sad.

Before he could dwell on that feeling for too long, the door opened and you joined him on the sidewalk. “Ready?” he asked and you nodded, carrying a hot cup of coffee and a small paper sack. Seungmin followed your lead, keeping pace with you as you walked.

He learned that you had lived in the city for a few months. Your move came with a transfer with your job.

“What do you do?” he asked as you took a sip of your coffee, sighing softly. You sniffled, the cold air no doubt nipping at your skin and making your nose run. Seungmin hadn’t experienced that in centuries. He didn’t remember what it was like to feel cold or warmth.

“I’m a pediatric nurse,” you replied. “I work at Seoul General,” you added as you continued walking. ‘Seoul General?’ Seungmin thought. “Oh,” he said, nodding. “I have a friend that works there, actually.” You looked up at him, eyes wide. Whether it was excitement or curiosity, Seungmin couldn’t tell.

“Oh really?” you asked. “I wonder if I’ve met them yet,” you added. Seungmin shrugged as the hospital started to come into view. “Perhaps you have,” he replied. “Who’s your friend?” you asked, looking at him. “Wonpil. Kim Wonpil,” Seungmin answered.

Your eyes lit up. “I know Dr. Kim!” you replied. ‘Excitement,’ Seungmin noted. ‘Definitely excitement.’ He smiled as you started to slow your pace. “I didn’t know you were friends with Dr. Kim!” Seungmin chuckled at your response as you neared the doors.

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” he replied. “We go way back.”

You glanced at the doors briefly before looking back at Seungmin. “I need to get clocked in but could I get your number? Maybe we can meet up for drinks or coffee sometime?” you asked, sounding hopeful. Seungmin’s heart sank. ‘Number? Oh no…’

Seungmin had managed to adapt to the times. Following trends, especially fashion. He understood email, he understood online ordering, he got all of it. The one thing Seungmin hadn’t seemed to keep up with were mobile phones.

He’d never had one, nor had he ever used one. Wonpil had one. Of course he did, but Seungmin hadn’t quite caught up to that part yet. Even if it was 2023. And now he had the misfortune of telling you that he didn’t have a mobile phone.

“Uh…” he hesitated, uncertain of how to even explain this. You stared at him expectantly. He wondered what was going through your head, rushing to explain before he lost the opportunity. “I don’t have one,” he finally managed to blurt out.

You stared at him, blinking a few times as you processed his words. ‘Great. Now she probably thinks you’re some kind of weirdo.’ After a moment of silence, you wordlessly opened your purse, fishing out a small pad of paper and a pen and quickly scratched something down. “Here,” you said, holding out the paper. “It’s my number,” you said, smiling at him.

He didn’t detect any sarcasm as you spoke. “If you end up getting one sometime, give me a call. Or a text,” you said as you dropped the pen and paper back into your bag. “And then we can get that coffee,” you added, giving him a wink. “I’ll see you around,” you called as you backed towards the hospital entrance.

Seungmin looked up as you waved. He waved back. “I’ll call you!” he called back and you sent him a thumbs up before entering the hospital and leaving him standing on the sidewalk in awe of what just happened. He looked back down at the small piece of paper in his hand. Your number looked back at him, the numbers silently judging him for not owning a phone.

Yet you didn’t. You didn’t even question it. Surely you thought it strange he didn’t have a mobile phone in such a technologically advanced age and city. Seoul was a hub of technology and of technological advancements but yet you said nothing on the subject, merely offering a solution.

Seungmin tucked the paper in his wallet carefully and started back down the sidewalk, a new confidence in his step. He knew exactly what he had to do. He needed to update, get with the times. His walk took him through the front door of a high rise building, catching the elevator up to the seventeenth floor.

He reached the apartment he’d been looking for, raising his fist and knocking heavily on the door three times. Then three more when no one answered. He knocked three more times before he heard the lock slide and the door opened, Wonpil appearing before him with a look of annoyance and confusion.

“What is your problem?” he asked, looking around. “I was sleeping,” he added. Seungmin stared back at him. “What?” Wonpil asked. “You look like you just murdered someone,” he joked. “Do you need help with the body?” he added under his breath. Seungmin shook his head. “That’s not what I need help with,” he replied.

“Then why are you pounding on my door? You know I sleep during the day because I work overnight shifts for the next two weeks,” Wonpil asked. “I do need your help,” Seungmin clarified. Wonpil nodded. “Okay,” he replied. “With what?” he asked as he let Seungmin into the apartment.

“It must be urgent if you’re coming in here, guns blazing,” he joked as he walked over to the kitchen island and looked back at Seungmin who nodded. “I got her number.”

Wonpil stared blankly at him. “Got whose number?” he asked. “Y/N’s,” Seungmin replied. Wonpil’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, really? When? How?” Seungmin explained how just after he left the cafe, Seungmin ran into Y/N and then walked her to work. “And she works at your hospital,” he continued.

Wonpil smirked as he hopped up onto the kitchen island to sit. “I can totally hook you two up,” he said as Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I don’t need you to hook me up,” he replied.

Wonpil held his hands up. “Then what do you need my help with?” he asked, looking confused. Seungmin cleared his throat before looking up at his friend. “I need a mobile phone. Now.”

Since acquiring the phone, Seungmin hadn’t been able to bring himself to make the call. Each time he picked up the device and tried to type out a message, it just didn’t feel right. Wonpil had sat down and shown him exactly how to use the device and even gave him some tips and pointers but it just felt… wrong.

After the tenth attempt at texting, Seungmin erased the message and set the phone down on the table in frustration, running his fingers through his hair. Why was this so difficult? Why couldn’t he just send a text? It wasn’t that hard, right?

He stared at the screen, hearing the ticking of the clock on the wall as he stared. He stared for a couple more minutes before grabbing it again and instead of typing he pressed the call button. This had to be easier, right? Talking was easier than trying to type.

Wonpil had been very precise that Seungmin did not write his texts like emails. It would make him look really weird and the last thing Seungmin wanted was for you to think he was weird.

He was certain if his heart had a beat that it would be pounding in his chest as he listened to the ringing through the receiver. If he could sweat, his palms would be clammy. Even if he was nervous, there was no way for him to express it except in his voice when you finally did answer.

“Hello?” Your voice sounded just as lovely as the last time he’d heard it. “Hello?” you said again. ‘Fuck. Answer her!’

“H-hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking. Seungmin quickly recovered, crossing his arm over his chest and tucking his hand under his arm. “Uh, hi,” you replied, sounding unsure. “Who is this?” Seungmin started to pace from the kitchen to the living room.

“It-it’s Seungmin,” he clarified, clearing his throat, trying to push his nerves away and keep the conversation going. “Oh hey!” you said, instantly sounded much more excited to hear from him. ‘That’s a good sign,’ he told himself. “So you got a phone?” you asked.

Seungmin nodded before realizing you couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he replied, trying to sound as casual as possible. Wonpil had warned him that almost no one said ‘yes’ over the phone except “boomers” and that Seungmin did not want to be lumped in with them.

“Welcome to the 21st century,” you said jokingly, making Seungmin chuckle nervously. “Am I your first call?” you asked and Seungmin hesitated. Should he say yes? Should he lie and say no? He decided against lying. “Yes,” he replied.

“I’m flattered,” you said and though Seungmin knew you were joking, he could tell it was just in good humor. He smiled to himself. “So,” you started and Seungmin heard the sound of rustling on the other side of the phone. Almost like the sound of sheets. Were you home in bed? He tried not to think about you in bed. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being your first mobile phone call?”

Seungmin straightened up, moving his free hand to slip into his pocket. “I’m not entirely sure,” he answered truthfully. “To be honest, I didn’t have a plan when I called you.” He heard you chuckle lightly on the other end. “So you’re just winging it?” you asked. Seungmin laughed, continuing to pace slowly.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he replied. His nerves had calmed down and he found it easy to talk to you like this. “Well, how about I invite you out to dinner?” you asked, catching him off guard. ‘Dinner?’

“Like… a date?” Seungmin asked, waiting anxiously for your answer. “Or like two friends getting to know each other, if that makes you more comfortable. No expectations.” Seungmin paused, looking around his apartment slowly. The boxes in the corner that were half packed to the bare walls. He only had a few more weeks here in the city. ‘What the hell,’ he thought. ‘Why not?’

“Sure,” he replied. “Perfect. How about Saturday?” you asked. “I start a new rotation tomorrow so I’ll be free in the evenings.” You sounded excited about this and Seungmin tried not to get his hopes up. After all, he couldn’t get attached. He was moving soon. “Saturday works,” he replied.

“Great, I’ll text you the location of the restaurant,” you continued and Seungmin chuckled. “I don’t get a say in this?” he asked and you giggled. “I’m inviting you out, so no,” you replied. “I’ll see you Saturday, seven o’clock?” Seungmin’s smile widened.

“Seven o’clock,” he repeated. “It’s a date.”

Saturday came much too quickly for his liking and internally, Seungmin was panicking. He didn’t know how to do any of this. He was from a completely different time period. He had no idea how dating in the 21st century worked. He’d seen movies and television shows but none of it prepared him for what he was getting himself into.

You had sent a text with the location of the restaurant and Seungmin arrived at six-fifty, giving himself plenty of time to prepare to spend a few hours with you in a restaurant full of people. He’d chosen to walk, enjoying the scenery of the city as the sun slowly descended behind the buildings and the way the sky erupted into oranges and pinks as the celestial body sank further below the horizon.

The restaurant was a small upscale place nestled into the base of one of the many high rises near the heart of the city. Seungmin glanced through one of the large square windows on the front of the building, allowing him a glimpse inside the establishment.

Couple sat at small round white draped tables, eating their meals by candlelight and sipping their drinks. He noticed a familiar face sitting at the bar in a fitted black satin dress. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, thanking the attendant who opened the door and let him in.

Once inside, he was greeted by a host who promptly asked him for the name for his reservation but Seungmin didn’t look at him. His eyes were trained on you as you turned, catching his eye and smiling as you waved. Seungmin pointed in your direction. 

“My date is at the bar,” he said to the host who turned to look back at you. “Ah yes,” he said, turning back to the book. “Your table is not quite ready but I will inform you when it is.” Seungmin nodded and squeezed past the host, making his way over to where you sat.

Inside, he had a better look at what you’d chosen to wear and he was glad he decided to dress up as everyone in the restaurant had the same idea. You smiled as he reached you, sliding into the seat beside you. “You’re early,” you noted, looking up from your drink.

He hadn’t noticed it before but you’d ordered a cocktail and it was half finished. He wondered how long you’d been waiting. “As are you,” Seungmin noted as he settled into the seat. You flashed him a sheepish smile and turned your attention to your drink.

“Have you been waiting long?” he asked and you shook your head, taking a sip of your drink. “Only a few minutes,” you replied as the bartender approached. “Can I get you anything, sir?” he asked, directing his question at Seungmin. “Whiskey, neat please,” Seungmin said as he pulled his wallet out. The bartender nodded and turned to start pouring Seungmin’s order.

“Whiskey without any chaser? You sound like a simple man,” you said, toying with the stem of your glass. A moment later, Seungmin’s drink was set in front of him and he thanked the man, passing him a couple notes. “I try to be,” Seungmin said, lifting the glass to take a sip.

“So, how does it feel to have finally joined us in the twenty-first century,” you asked, leaning on your arm against the counter. Seungmin felt his lips twitch into a smirk. “You make me sound like I’m ancient and out of touch with reality,” he mused, taking another sip.

“Are you?” you asked, drawing his attention. “Out of touch with reality?” Seungmin asked, watching as you shrugged your shoulders. “Or ancient?” Seungmin could have sworn his dead heart tried to skip a beat but it lay still in his chest.

He scoffed, looking down at the amber liquid in his glass. “What makes you think that?” he asked before looking back up to meet your gaze. You studied his features carefully, eyes lingering on his for a moment longer than he liked.

Before you could respond, the two of you were interrupted.

“Excuse me,” the host from before said. Both you and Seungmin turned at the same time. “Your table is ready.”

Once you migrated from the bar with your drinks, Seungmin ordered another whiskey while you both looked over the menu, looking for something that he could ingest without arousing suspicion. “Do you eat a lot of Italian food?” Seungmin asked, looking up from his menu.

You shook your head. “No,” you admitted. “Unless you count pizza,” you joked. Seungmin smiled, returning to the black words before him. He settled on a steak with a simple side dish while you ordered some kind of seafood pasta.

“I’ve heard the pizza in Italy is nothing like the rest of the world,” you said as you picked up your water glass. Seungmin nodded, setting his now empty whiskey glass down. “It is,” he replied. You looked up from your glass. “You’ve been to Italy, too? Why am I not surprised,” you mused with a smirk.

Seungmin shrugged his shoulders, smiling back. “I’ve been all over Europe,” he reminded you. You set your water glass down and leaned forward slightly. “And the States,” you added to his statement. He nodded. “And Asia,” he continued. “Hmm,” you hummed, looking down at his fingers drumming against the white tablecloth.

“What’s the best place you’ve visited? Your favorite,” you asked, clarifying what you meant at the end. Seungmin hesitated. That was a good question. One he doesn’t think he’s ever answered. Then again, he didn’t make a habit of conversing with people other than Wonpil. What was his favorite place to visit?

As he pondered, the server stopped by the table. “Would you like another drink, sir?” he asked, to which Seungmin shook his head. “No thank you,” he replied. “Two is my limit,” he added, looking up as the server nodded, taking the empty whiskey glass.

You fought the urge to smile, thanking the server as he took your empty cocktail glass as well. “Would you like another?” he asked softly. Seungmin saw your eyes flicker to him and then back and you nodded. “Just one more. Three is my limit,” you replied, turning to look at Seungmin with a smirk.

He returned the smile before looking away. “So, my favorite place?” he asked. You nodded again. “A place you couldn’t forget, even if you tried,” you replied. Seungmin’s eyes widened comically as he chortled. “Wow. Okay, no pressure then,” he said as he shifted in his seat.

“I think I’d have to pick Milan. Especially during autumn. It’s spectacular,” he replied. You rested your chin in your hand, watching as he explained. “In summer, it’s just so hot and humid. Especially in July and August. But in autumn? Perfect. Temperatures aren’t hot, it’s mild. Absolutely gorgeous,” he added.

You sat back as the server returned with not only your drink but also the food. Seungmin was surprised by the portions, especially of your pasta. He knew he’d only be able to eat part of his meal. He’d have to take the rest to go.

As the two of you ate, he asked you more questions. He learned you moved to Seoul for work. He asked about your hometown and your family. He was surprised to learn that your parents still lived in your hometown and that you went home almost every year during the holidays.

He also learned that you loved animals, cats were among your favorite and that you actually had a cat at home in your apartment. He learned that you had a studio apartment in a high rise a few blocks west of the coffee shop that had a view of the river. 

You told him how you loved books. You loved to read and most of your free time was spent curled up on your couch with a blanket, a hot cup of tea, and a book in your hands. Sometimes your cat curled up in your lap and sometimes she would curl up next to you as you read.

Seungmin focused more on your words than his food and when the server came by he asked for the rest of it to go. Once the food was packed up and your drink finished, Seungmin fished his wallet out and you held up your hand. “I invited you out,” you started but Seungmin was much quicker, handing his wallet to the server. 

You stared at him, looking up to find the confused look on the server’s face. Seungmin glanced up, realizing his mistake in an instant. “Sorry,” he muttered, snatching his wallet, opening it and handing the card over. The server walked away, still processing what just happened as you looked down at the table, biting your bottom lip to hold in the laugh Seungmin knew was trying to escape.

“I meant to do that, you know,” he addressed you. Nodding, he could tell you didn’t quite believe him. He looked down at the table, silence falling over you as he, too, processed what he’d just done. As it set in, he snorted, holding back a laugh. Never before had he done something so absentminded as hand his entire wallet to a server to pay for a meal before.

How weird did he look? Would the server take it as stupidity or pretentiousness? As the server returned with the slip, Seungmin thanked him, holding back his laughter. He signed the slip and left a generous tip. He quickly returned his card to its home in his wallet and looked up at you.

“We should probably go,” he said softly. Your shoulders were shaking from holding back your laughter. You cleared your throat and nodded, getting up and Seungmin followed, grabbing the bag of to-go food. You both hurried towards the entrance, thanking the staff as you exited the building.

Once outside, you took one look at Seungmin, meeting his eye and both of you burst into laughter, ignoring the looks of other pedestrians as they passed by you. “What the hell was that?” you asked, your laughter subsiding only for a moment.

“I have no idea,” Seungmin replied, laughing just as hard. “I’ve never done that before!”

As the two of you started down the sidewalk, you continued to laugh about the wallet situation.

“It was just the look on his face,” you said, giggling hysterically. “He was so confused!”

“I know! I wish I could have read his mind. I wonder if he thought I was some pretentious asshole,” Seungmin countered. “Or just dumb,” you snorted. “Not that you are,” you clarified quickly. Seungmin burst into another round of laughter.

“I mean, I did just try to pay for our meals by handing over my entire wallet like we were getting mugged in an alley,” he reminded you, another round of laughter emitting from both of you.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your building and Seungmin stopped as you did, looking up at your building. “This is me,” you noted, turning back to look at him. Seungmin nodded. 

“It’s getting cold out here,” he replied, his eyes threatening to dip down to look over your body again. He’d avoided it back in the restaurant by looking at other things in the establishment but out here, alone, in front of your apartment building he found it much harder to resist.

“It is,” you nodded. Silence fell between you but it wasn’t awkward this time. There was a certain tension. Something Seungmin hadn’t experienced in a long time. Sexual tension. He cleared his throat softly, noticing how you drew your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Did you want to come up?” you asked softly and Seungmin froze. He had no expectations going into this, knowing he was going to be leaving the city and his current life behind in a couple weeks so your question caught him off guard. Could he? He could, he was capable of going up to your apartment and giving you what you were probably expecting. He had the ability to do so.

But could he do that, knowing that something more might come out of it when he knew he was leaving? Could he do that to you or to himself? Was he strong enough to give in for just a couple weeks and then leave, never to return? He knew the answer to that question before he even asked himself.

“No,” he said softly, shaking his head and giving you a kind smile. “I’m afraid I’m a bit more old fashioned,” he added. The brief hurt on your face was replaced by understanding. The classic ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ tactic. You returned his smile. “I understand,” you replied.

“That’s actually kind of refreshing,” you added. “Most guys can’t wait for the date to get to this part, hoping I’ll invite them up but to be honest,” you explained. “I almost never invite them in.”

Seungmin felt a small surge of pride. It felt good to know that you felt comfortable enough to invite him in although you should feel anything but comfortable in his presence. “Maybe another time,” you added. Seungmin nodded wordlessly, not wanting to give you any false hope.

The man in him was screaming at him, cursing at him for letting you walk away. You stepped forward, closing the distance and kissing him on the cheek. It happened so quickly, Seungmin couldn’t stop it without hurting you physically or emotionally. When you drew back, you uttered a soft goodnight and turned to head up the steps to your building’s door.

Seungmin stood rooted to the spot, watching you walk away. He finally allowed him the chance to look over your body, the man in him still screaming at the lost opportunity to have you beneath him. Once you were safely inside, Seungmin turned and started in the direction of his apartment, going over the events of the night in his mind.

It had been awkward for him at first but he was surprised by how easily you both seemed to get along. The conversation, the joking, the wallet situation that still made him chuckle. The chemistry was there, he couldn’t deny it. And so when you called him a couple days later, asking him on another date, he couldn’t find it in him to say no.

Nor when you asked him on another. He enjoyed every minute he spent with you. He enjoyed your company far more than he enjoyed Wonpil’s, though he’d never tell his friend that. He normally shied away from humans physically but with you, everything felt natural.

The way you grabbed his hand when you were walking, the way you leaned into him, even when you kissed his cheek goodnight after he turned your offer to come up again and again. Everything with you felt right. Each time spent with you only drew him closer and closer to when he’d have to say goodbye.

He had a week left and so he decided to invite you out for once, calling you up.

“Oh, sorry,” you said over the receiver. He could hear the sound of you moving around your apartment. “I actually have plans tonight.” Seungmin felt his stomach sink. ‘Plans?’ he wondered and briefly, he thought maybe he’d turned you down one too many times until you spoke again.

“Yeah, my friend Ami is in town and it’s her birthday so we’re going to the club tonight,” you explained. Seungmin felt the weight in his stomach dissipate and he felt better instantly. “Oh? Where at?” he asked. “At this new club down by the main strip in Gangnam,” you replied. He heard the clicking of heels. You must be getting ready to leave.

“Well, have fun and be safe,” Seungmin said as he heard your keys jingle through the phone. “Thanks,” you said, a smile in your voice. “I’ll be careful,” you added. “And tell your friend I said happy birthday.” Your chuckle rang out and it made Seungmin miss hearing it in person. “I will,” you replied.

“I gotta go,” you said as Seungmin heard you open your door. “I’ll let you know when I get there and when I get home,” you added. “If it’ll make you feel better.” Seungmin smiled to himself. “It would, actually,” he answered. “Thank you.”

After you hung up, Seungmin plugged his phone in, hurrying through the apartment and changed at inhuman speed before returning to his phone, snatching it up and dialing Wonpil’s number. After the second ring, Wonpil answered the phone.

“What’s up?” he asked and Seungmin looked at himself in the mirror above the dining room table. “Do you have plans right now?” he asked. Wonpil fell silent for a moment before answering. “No?” he said hesitantly. “Want to go do something?” Seungmin asked.

“Dude, are you finally enjoying life again?” Wonpil asked, sounding both shocked and excited. “Well,” Seungmin said, playing with his hair, trying to get some of it to lay a certain way. “I’ve been on like 4 dates with Y/N,” he answered.

He heard Wonpil whoop through the phone. “Finally! You got laid!” Seungmin’s smile fell. “Actually about that,” he started and he could hear Wonpil groan through the phone. “Dude!” Seungmin held up his finger, even if Wonpil couldn’t see him. “To be fair, I’m leaving the city in like a week,” he explained.

“You know what? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Let’s go out,” Wonpil said. “Where are we going?”

A smile spread across his face. “Have you been to the new club in Gangnam?”

Getting to the club was easy, and meeting Ami and Hae-eun was even easier. You hated turning Seungmin down but you’d had these plans for a couple weeks now. You could always see him another day. “Y/N!” Ami said excitedly as you joined her and Hae-eun in line.

“Hey,” you said, giving her a hug before you turned to hug Hae-eun. “Look at you,” Hae-eun said, looking at your dress. “I’ve been wanting to wear this for a while,” you admitted. “But I don’t have a chance to go to clubs anymore.”

“Is that hospital overworking?” Ami asked as the line moved closer to the door. “No,” you replied, waving your hand as you took a step forward with your friends. “I’ve actually started dating,” you admitted. Ami gasped dramatically. “No way,” she said and Hae-eun lightly slapped her arm.

“Stop teasing her,” Hae-eun chastised. “I think it’s great,” she added as the three of you took another step closer to the doors. “I like that you’re settled in enough to start dating again.” You smiled at her, thanking her silently.

It only took a few minutes more to get to the door, show your IDs to the bouncer and get inside after paying your cover charge.

Once inside, you maneuvered through the crowd towards the bar to order drinks. Hae-eun opened the first tab on her card and once you each had a drink or two in Ami’s case, the three of you tried to find an open table and were lucky enough to find three open places on one of the sofas.

Playing catch up over drinks and the loud music was difficult but you managed and after downing a drink, Hae-eun dragged both you and Ami onto the floor, even if you lost your spot. It had been a while since you’d been dancing with your friends but it was nice to let loose.

Seungmin had been a blessing, spending time with him helped you unwind but you couldn’t lie that you were left feeling a little frustrated each time he declined to come back up to your apartment at the end of each date. You understood his position completely. He wasn’t a casual sex kind of guy and you couldn’t fault him for that but you couldn’t deny that you were really hot for him.

Like really really hot.

You’d had more than one dream that left you even more frustrated than before.

“I need water!” you called over the heavy bass to your friends who nodded and continued to dance as you squeezed through the crowd of sweaty patrons and headed for the bar to get some water.

You were glad you chose a comfortable dress that was still form fitting and showed off your curves. As you approached the bar, you smiled at the bartender who stopped in front of you. “Water please,” you said, leaning in and grabbing a napkin or two, starting to dab at your forehead and neck.

As you waited, you managed to dab and wipe away some of the sweat, tossing the napkins away as the person beside you stepped away from the bar, leaving an open space that was quickly occupied by another body. “Here you go,” the bartender said, passing you an unopened bottle of water.

You thanked him, twisting the top off and taking a drink.

You were aware of the eyes on you and you glanced to the side, noticing how the man who had walked up was looking at you. His eyes looked up and down your body before looking up to meet your gaze. He gave you a smile which you did not return.

“Hey,” the man said and you turned back to look at him. You said nothing, forcing a polite smile before turning back away, hoping he’d get the hint. He didn’t.

“I saw you from across the room,” he started, leaning in to speak into your ear. You leaned away from him, the scent of his cologne overpowering your senses. “Your eyes work,” you noted. “Good for you.” He laughed heavily, the sound instantly putting you off.

You grabbed your bottle of water and excused yourself, turning and walking away from the bar. You spotted your friends in the crowd but before you could step off to weave through the crowd and join them, you felt a rough hand grab your arm. “I wasn’t done talking to you,” the man growled.

You quickly untwist the cap on your bottle of water and squeezed it, sending water into his face. “Yes you were,” you snapped and pulled from his grip. “No means no.”

Not giving him a chance to respond or react, you dumped the rest of your water on his shoes and tossed the bottle in the waste bin nearby, turning and heading into the crowd to find Ami and Hae-eun. They turned as you arrived and both their smiles fell upon seeing your annoyed expression.

You gave them a short explanation and commended you for how you handled the situation. They pulled you in to dance some more before the three of you headed back to the bar for more drinks. You were here celebrating with your friends and nothing, not even some creep, was going to ruin your fun.

As you sat back down at the sofa, Hae-eun rounded on you. “So,” she started, tapping your knee. “Tell us about this guy.” Ami’s eyes widened in excitement. “Ooh, yes!” she exclaimed. You shrugged your shoulders, stirring your drink with the small black straw.

“What do you want to know?” you asked as nonchalantly as possible. 

“How did you meet?”

“Is he hot?”

“Where did you meet?”

“Is he rich?”

“What does he do for a living?”

“Does he have a big-”

Hae-eun slapped Ami’s arm. “Stop with the superficial questions!” she hissed, making you snort and shake your head at their antics. ‘The same as ever,’ you noted.

“We met in the national park,” you started, looking at Hae-eun. “Yes, he’s hot,” you continued, looking at Ami. “I don’t know what he does for a living but he’s got enough money to pay for all our dates,” you added. The two stared at you, waiting for more. “And???” Ami asked. 

“And what?” you asked, looking between them.

“I think what the birthday girl is asking,” Hae-eun said, throwing a glare at Ami. “Is ‘have you slept together?’” Ami nodded excitedly, looking at you expectantly. You averted your eyes from their questioning gazes, suddenly more interested in your drink.

“We haven’t,” you finally answered quietly. Ami groaned and Hae-eun shushed her. “This is why none of your dates go anywhere, Y/N,” Ami said pointedly, ignoring the glare Hae-eun gave her. You looked up at them, confusion written on your face.

“But I’ve invited him up!” you protested. “Numerous times actually.” Ami exchanged glances with Hae-eun. “And he says no?” Hae-eun asked, to which you nodded. “Every time; he declines, we say goodnight, I kiss him on the cheek, and then he waits for me to go inside before he leaves,” you explained.

“He’s gay,” Ami said suddenly, making Hae-eun choke on her drink.

“He’s not gay,” you retorted. “He even said he’s just old fashioned. He’s not into casual sex.” Ami rolled her eyes, settling back against the sofa. “Gaaaaaaay,” she shouted. Hae-eun covered her mouth with her hand, apologizing to the group sitting next to you.

You looked back down at your drink. “Maybe he’s a virgin!” Ami suddenly said and you shrugged. “And if he is?” you asked, looking up. “Is that so bad?” Ami hesitated but Hae-eun jumped in. “No,” she replied. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” she replied.

“It’s boring!” Ami said loudly, earning another slap to the arm from Hae-eun.

“Well, I think it’s refreshing to have a guy not want to get into my pants and actually take an interest in building something first,” you retorted. “Not everything has to be about sex. Meaningful relationships are important, too,” you added. Hae-eun raised her glass. “Hear, hear,” she said.

You gently tapped your glass against hers before taking a sip while Ami shrugged.

“I still think he’s a boring, gay virgin.”

Seungmin had met Wonpil at the door, managing to get to the club at the same time Wonpil was ready to go in. They’d paid their cover charges, slipped inside and headed for the bar. Seungmin ordered a simple whiskey neat and spent most of the first few hours nursing the drink.

Wonpil was looking around, noticing a few ladies not far smiling his way but tonight wasn’t about that as Seungmin had explained as soon as they entered the establishment. “I can’t believe the first time ever of you inviting me out is about spying on your girlfriend,” he murmured, downing the rest of his second drink.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Seungmin retorted, keeping his eyes on you as you danced with your friends. You had finished one drink already that he saw and took to the floor immediately after, following your two friends. He had half a mind to slip onto the dance floor and join you.

He was vaguely listening to Wonpil talk about work when he noticed you were no longer on the dance floor. He saw your friends but there was no sign of you. Sitting up quickly, his eyes darted around until he finally found you, relief flooding him but it was short lived.

You had managed to ask the bartender for something when a man in a gray suit sidled up to the bar beside you. The way he was staring at your body made Seungmin’s stomach churn. He watched as the man spoke to you but due to all the other interference of the loud music and chatter around him, Seungmin couldn’t tell what was being said but based on your body language, you weren’t into it.

Seungmin watched as you walked away from the bar, feeling a bit better but when the man followed, grabbing you by the arm, he clenched his hand so hard, the glass in Seungmin’s hand shattered, sending whiskey all over the table.

“Whoa, dude, chill,” Wonpil hissed, starting to pick up the pieces, catching the attention of one of the servers who came over with a towel. “I’m so sorry,” Wonpil said as he helped her gather the glass in the towel. “My friend doesn’t know his own strength sometimes,” he added as he brushed Seungmin’s hand off and accepted a clean towel to clean up the alcohol.

“Thank you so much,” Wonpil said, offering another apology.

Seungmin’s eyes were still on you and the man. You’d managed to untwist the cap of your water bottle and squeeze the liquid in his face, prompting to let go before you dumped the remainder on his shoes and then left to join your friends.

Seungmin felt a surge of pride at watching the exchange but he didn’t miss the murderous look the man threw your way before he stormed off towards the bathrooms. Seungmin kept his eye on you but also kept an eye out for the man.

It was maybe about twenty or thirty minutes later that you got up from the couch after settling there with new drinks that you made your way towards the bathrooms. Seungmin had yet to see the man but when you passed the bar, a figure turned and Seungmin saw it was the man.

He felt his stomach churn again as the man got up and started after you, keeping his distance. “I’ll be back,” Seungmin announced to Wonpil and got up from his seat, turning and weaving through the crowd in the direction of the bathrooms.

You managed to make it through the crowd and into the bathroom. As you were shutting the door, a foot blocked it and you looked up to see the same man from before. He pushed the door open, forcing you back. “This is the women’s bathroom,” you remarked but he said nothing, instead, shutting the door and to your horror you heard the lock click.

“You need to get out,” you said as he advanced. Again he said nothing.

You backed away as he continued forward towards you.

“Get the fuck out. What is your problem?” you snapped, which finally got a response. “You think that was funny?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “Splashing water in my face in front of everyone?” You narrowed your eyes. “If you hadn’t been such a creep and left me alone when I literally walked away from you, maybe I wouldn’t have had to splash water in your face,” you replied.

“If you didn’t want attention, you shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,” he retorted. You rolled your eyes. “Seriously dude? Grow up. Get out before I call security,” you warned. He scoffed, almost laughing at you. “How’re you gonna do that when you can’t even scream?” he asked.

Your eyes widened and before you could move, he closed the distance, pushing you back against the sink, one hand going round your throat and pushing your head back against the mirror. You heard the glass crack and splinter as your head made contact, the impact dazing you for a moment. 

You tried to claw at his hand. “L-let go!” you choked out. His free hand moved to the hem of your dress. “I’ll teach you a lesson, slut,” he growled. Before he could do anything else, the door was thrown open with such force you thought a bomb had gone off.

“Get your hands off her,” a familiar voice snapped. You heard the impact of a punch and the sound of a body falling into the wall before you felt a presence standing in front of you. “Y/N, holy shit, look at me,” the voice said. Gentle hands took hold of your face and through your swimming vision you saw Seungmin’s face.

“S-Seungmin?” you stammered. “Back off buddy,” the other guy said, advancing but Seungmin turned to look at him, a deep growl emitting from his chest. It rumbled so intensely that you felt it on your skin. “Touch her again and I’ll rip your fucking fingers off, one by one,” he threatened.

Without another word, Seungmin easily lifted you off the sink, carrying you from the bathroom and through the crowd easily. He stopped at the door to inform the bouncers of the situation but you couldn’t pay attention. Soon the cool autumn air hit your skin and you opened your eyes. 

You were outside.

“Where’s your phone?” Seungmin asked, carrying you to the end of the block and kneeling down, holding you up with one hand as he pulled his own phone from his pocket. “It’s here,” you murmured, gesturing at your chest where you had stuffed your phone earlier as your dress had no pockets.

“Can you get it out for me?” Seungmin asked softly as he dialed something on his phone and held his phone up to his ear. “Yeah, I got her,” Seungmin said softly into the receiver. “I’m gonna call an ambulance. Get her friends and I’ll text you the location of the hospital they take her,” he continued.

You shook your head. “No mmbulance,” you mumbled. Seungmin pulled his phone away from his ear and started typing again before holding it back up to his ear. “Y/N, you’ve hit your head,” Seungmin explained. “You’re bleeding so you might need stitches,” he continued. “And you might have a concussion.”

You looked up as he waited for whoever he was calling to answer. In the glow of the neon lights of the city he was exceptionally beautiful. You blinked slowly as you watched him. His hair was pushed back, like he’d intentionally styled it or had run his fingers through it so much it was holding.

His irises were red and you don’t know how you never noticed it before.

“You have pretty eyes,” you said, your speech slurring slightly. Seungmin looked down at you, his lips parting before he looked back up. “Hi, yes, I need an ambulance to the corner of Gangnam Boulevard and the 69th street. Address? Uh…” Seungmin looked up and around for an address to give what you assumed was a 1-1-9 dispatcher.

You tuned out the words, instead just watching him speak as the throbbing of your head started to set in.

“Thank you,” he replied, drawing you back to reality. “Ow,” you murmured as he put his phone away. “An ambulance is on the way,” he said, shifting so he was leaning against the wall of the building and keeping you on his lap. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad does it hurt?” he asked softly.

“Ssseven,” you slurred. “Y/N oh my god! What happened!” a voice rang out. Seungmin looked up as did you. A smile spread across your face as Ami and Hae-eun hurried over with some guy you’d never seen. He looked a bit like Seungmin. You glanced at Seungmin again and then to the man and back at Seungmin.

“Are you two brothers?” you asked, pointing between them. Seungmin looked up at the man who stared back. “Uh, Y/N,” Seungmin replied. “That’s Wonpil.” You looked again and the realization dawned on you. “Dr. Kim!” you said suddenly, trying to sit up but Seungmin kept a firm grip on you.

“Whoa,” Wonpil said as he moved and knelt down. “No sudden movements, Y/N,” he said with a chuckle. “You know that. Let me see your head,” he said, gently taking your head and turning it so he could inspect the back. “It’s bleeding,” he noted.

“But it doesn’t seem too bad,” he added. “Might not even need stitches,” he continued with a smile and a wink. “But you could have a concussion,” he said, glancing at Seungmin. “Okay,” Hae-eun said, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Not to be rude, but who the fuck are you two?”

Wonpil chuckled at Hae-eun’s aggressiveness. “I’m Wonpil. I work with Y/N,” he introduced himself. “I’m a doctor at Seoul General. This is my friend Seungmin who also happens to be dating your friend Y/N,” he added, gesturing at Seungmin.

“Ami! Ami! Seungmin is the one you think is a gay virgin,” you blurted out, looking at Ami who looked positively horrified at your candor. You felt Seungmin freeze under you. “Y/N,” Hae-eun hissed. “You can’t say things like that.” You looked at her. “Oh, sorry, Hae-eun.”

Wonpil looked as if he might burst a seam, holding in his laughter.

“I am so sorry,” Ami said, looking at Seungmin. You looked up at him trying to decipher his expression but it was unreadable. “He’s just a gentleman,” you replied, still looking up at him. Seungmin looked down, meeting your gaze and you noticed the small smile he gave you.

“He’s just old fashioned and there’s nothing wrong with that,” you continued. You looked around as everyone was bathed in red and blue lights. “Is the wee woo wagon here?” you asked, making Wonpil snort as Seungmin carefully shifted as two paramedics got out of the ambulance.

“Yes,” he said, glancing down at you. “The wee woo wagon is here.” You closed your eyes, letting out a laugh. “Wee woo, wee woo,” you said, mimicking the siren as a new set of hands started to look you over and carefully placed you on a soft material.

“Wow,” you said as one person started to check your blood pressure. “The concrete sure is soft.”

Wonpil let out another laugh before covering his mouth. “Sorry,” he said softly. After starting an IV and checking your vitals and the wound on your head, you were loaded into the ambulance. “We only have space for one of you,” one of the paramedics said. “I’ll go,” Wonpil offered. “I’m a doctor and her colleague,” he added. “I’ll text you the location,” he said as he climbed in.

Seungmin nodded, keeping his eyes on you as the doors were shut and the ambulance took off, sirens blaring. “This is not how tonight was supposed to go,” Ami said tearfully, Hae-eun leaning into her looking every bit as worried as Seungmin felt.

“Where will they take her?” Ami asked, looking at Seungmin who shrugged. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Wonpil will let me know as soon as they get close,” he added.

Seungmin glanced behind him, back towards the club. His mind was full of thoughts to go back. To finish what he had in his mind but the buzzing of his phone pulled him from those dark thoughts. Seungmin glanced down at his phone, the screen lighting up with a notification from Wonpil.

Wonpil: they’re taking her to our hospital. Visiting hours will be ending soon. Get there fast

“I got a location,” Seungmin announced, Ami and Hae-eun turning to look at him. “Where” Ami asked as Seungmin hailed a cab, pocketing his phone. The driver pulled up to the curb and Seungmin turned to the two. “Seoul General,” he replied. “But we have to hurry.”

He got into the front while Ami and Hae-eun got into the back and he told the driver where to go.

He’d deal with the creep later.

The drive to the hospital didn’t take long and soon, the cab was pulling up to the emergency entrance. “Thank you so much,” Seungmin said, paying the driver as Ami and Hae-eun got out. He joined them on the sidewalk and headed into the hospital.

“Can I help you?” one of the triage nurses asked, smiling up at him. “Hi,” Seungmin said softly, leaning against the counter. “Our friend was brought in. A Dr. Kim was with her. She had a head injury and was picked up just off Gangnam Boulevard,” he explained.

“What’s your friend’s name?” she asked, typing on her computer. “Y/N,” Seungmin replied quickly.

“Last name?” she asked, looking up at him. Seungmin hesitated. He didn’t know your last name. “Y/L/N,” Hae-eun interjected, stepping forward. She rattled off the rest of your information as Seungmin fell silent. He hadn’t even known your last name.

How didn’t he know something as simple as that? It started to dawn on him just how little he truly knew about you. “She’s still being looked at,” the nurse said as she looked at her screen. “Dr. Kim ordered an MRI and CT scan. If you want to wait, you’re welcome to wait here and I’ll make sure someone comes and informs you of her condition as soon as there’s an update.”

Hae-eun thanked the nurse and returned to Ami, the two leading the way over to an empty corner, taking a seat on the small sofa while Seungmin sat in one of the armchairs. He didn’t look at either of your friends, instead trying to focus on keeping himself from going back to the club.

He wasn’t sure how much time went by but Hae-eun looked up and tapped Ami’s arm prompting Seungmin to also look up, seeing Wonpil walking over. Seungmin got up quickly as did Hae-eun. “How is she?” Ami asked, looking up from her seat.

“She’s okay,” Wonpil answered. “She didn’t need stitches,” he confirmed, looking at Seungmin who was relieved. “It was a lot of blood but the cut was very shallow and shouldn’t scar.” Seungmin let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “As for the trauma to her head,” he continued.

“Nothing on her scans indicate any serious trauma to her brain. Maybe a little bit of rattling, but there’s no bleeding in her brain which is a good sign,” he explained, addressing Ami and Hae-eun. “We will keep her overnight for observation. Nurses will wake her up every hour to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion,” he continued.

“Can we go see her?” Ami asked and Wonpil nodded, smiling. “Yes, of course,” he answered. “I’ll take you back there now,” he added. Seungmin brought up the rear as Wonpil walked your friends back into the ER. “Visiting hours end soon,” Wonpil said softly as he stopped by a door,

“But I’ll extend them just a bit for you,” he added, gesturing to the open door. Ami and Hae-eun entered, pushing the curtain aside as they entered. Wonpil stopped Seungmin before he could follow. “Tell me you didn’t do anything to him,” Wonpil said under his breath.

Seungmin looked up at this friend. “No,” he replied. “Well, I may have punched him.” Wonpil raised a brow. “Did his head stay on?” Seungmin snorted. “Unfortunately,” he replied. Wonpil held back a laugh. “I know he did something wrong but don’t go causing trouble,” Wonpil warned.

“Let the consequences of his actions catch up with him.”

Seungmin said nothing, nodding silently as Wonpil lowered his hand. “She’s a little more lucid,” he added. Seungmin thanked his friend and entered the room. Seeing you lying in the bed made his non-beating heart sink into his stomach. 

He hated seeing you in such a state and it further fueled the fire in his being to go back to the club and deal with the man who had the audacity to put his hands on you. To say the things he did. To hurt you. Seungmin heard it all.

After the man had gotten up and followed you, Seungmin had gotten up, following both of you at a distance. He heard the entire exchange. The way you stood your ground, the way the man degraded you, calling you names before he acted.

It took every ounce of his strength to not tear the man apart, limb from limb when he entered that bathroom. Seeing his hands on you, how he had you pinned to the sink. The shatter mirror, the cracks spreading from the source of impact. Your head.

He should have killed the creep then and there but he was driven by a desire to make sure you were okay first. To get you to safety and assess your condition. He could always go back. And he would go back.

“Y/N, oh my god!” Ami said, rushing to your side as Hae-eun followed. Seungmin hung back as Wonpil entered the room, hands in his pockets. “She’s a very pretty woman,” Wonpil said under his breath. Seungmin nodded. “She’s more remarkable than she looks,” he replied.

Wonpil nodded, silence falling over the two.

“You can’t keep seeing her if you plan to leave,” Wonpil said finally and Seungmin nodded again. “I know,” he said softly. “I’ve thought about it over and over,” he added. “It’ll just hurt her and I can't do that to her.”

Wonpill nodded, turning his head towards Seungmin. “So don’t keep doing this. Don’t follow her to clubs,” he continued. Seungmin looked at him. “This was a one time thing,” he whispered. “I’ve never followed her before,” he clarified.

Wonpil nodded. “Good,” he said softly. Seungmin watched as Wonpil stepped forward. “I’m sorry ladies,” he said, addressing Ami and Hae-eun. “But Y/N needs rest. She’ll be released tomorrow so long as she’s cleared,” he added. Ami and Hae-eun nodded and looked back at you.

“Sorry I ruined your birthday,” you said to Ami who laughed, gently squeezing your hand. “It’s okay,” she replied. “You didn’t ruin it,” she added. “We’ll come see you tomorrow,” Hae-eun said, looking at Wonpil who nodded with a smile. “Of course,” he said, gesturing towards the door.

“Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Ami said as she and Hae-eun said goodbye and started to move towards the door, passing in front of Seungmin. When they were past him, Seungmin caught your eye and offered a smile before turning to head for the door.

“Actually, could I have a moment alone with Seungmin?” you asked Wonpil who glanced at his friend before looking back at you. “Of course,” he said. “Just a couple minutes,” he added before leaving the room. Seungmin turned back to face you.

“Could you come here please?” you asked, trying to push yourself up. Seungmin hurried to your side, grabbing the bed controls. “Use this,” he said, placing it in your hand. “Thanks,” you said, pressing the button to raise the head of the bed.

Seungmin sat carefully on the edge of your bed, keeping his eyes on your face. “I--” your voice cracked as you tried to say something. You tried again. Seungmin could see you fighting the urge to cry. “I wanted to thank you for saving me,” you said softly. Seungmin glanced down at your hand, wondering whether he should take hold of it or not.

He lost the fight with his inner self and took your hand gently and carefully. His ears picked up how the heart monitor beeped a little faster. It wasn’t much but it was enough for you to avoid his glaze for a moment. “Damn machine,” you said softly.

“Giving me away.”

Seungmin fought the urge to smile. He’d already known how he affected you. He could hear your heart without the monitor. He could hear the way the tempo danced whenever he got closer or whenever you held his hand or leaned into him.

He was sure his would be doing the same if it weren’t dead.

“Damn machine,” he repeated, making you chuckle.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “I thanked you for saving me,” you started. “But how did you know where I was?” you asked. Seungmin smiled, looking down at your hand in his. “When you said you were going out with some friends, I decided to do the same and asked Wonpil to come out with me. I didn’t expect us to end up at the same club,” he admitted.

You looked up at him as he spoke. “But I saw you while I was talking to Wonpil and I saw that guy,” he continued, his expression shifting to anger as he recalled the way the man had grabbed your arm. “And I saw the way you defended yourself. But then you went to the bathroom alone and then I saw him follow and I just felt like something was wrong,” he added.

“So I followed you to the bathrooms. I got close enough, and then I heard you pleading,” Seungmin said, keeping his voice as even as possible. “So you broke down the door?” you asked, watching his face. He nodded. “How?” you asked, and Seungmin looked down at you. “How what?”

“How did you break down the door?” you asked, looking genuinely curious. “I kicked it in,” he admitted. You stared at him for a few minutes before speaking. “But it’s a metal door,” you replied. Seungmin shrugged. “I probably had adrenaline pumping,” he replied. “You can do incredible things on adrenaline,” he added.

You stared at him, eyes searching his face. For the first time since meeting you, Seungmin couldn’t tell if you were scared of him or not. “That’s one hell of an adrenaline rush,” you finally said and Seungmin laughed, nodding. “Yeah,” he said softly. He placed your hand on your stomach.

“I should probably go so you can rest,” he said, standing up. The way you looked up at him had him feeling like he couldn’t just leave without a proper goodbye. Against his better judgment, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As he pulled back, he met your gaze and before he could stop you, you grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him down and Seungmin felt on fire as your lips met for the first time. He couldn’t remember the last time he kissed someone. It had been ages but yet he didn’t seem to be any worse for it.

Your lips parted and Seungmin could hear via both the heart monitor and the pounding of your heart as his tongue slipped into your mouth. It was embarrassing how easily a kiss riled him up but he could smell how it affected you as well. He pulled back even though the man inside him wanted more. He rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry our first kiss was while you were lying in a hospital bed,” he said, a hint of amusement to his voice. You giggled, looking up at him as he pulled back. “Thank you again,” you said softly, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. Seungmin’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over and pulling your bottom lip free before he leaned in, kissing you again.

“Get some rest,” he said softly. “I’ll come see you tomorrow,” he added as he stood up. “You promise?” you called as he walked towards the door, he turned back and smiled, nodding. “But after you get out of the hospital,” he added as the door opened and Wonpil appeared.

“Goodnight Y/N,” Seungmin said before following Wonpil out of the room as he heard you call out.

“See you around!”

Seungmin chuckled to himself as Wonpil shut the door and rounded on him. “I told you to leave her alone,” he hissed as the pair headed for the exit. “The entire nurses station could hear her heart monitor!” Seungmin laughed a little louder as they reached the door.

“I’m serious,” Wonpil added, trying not to laugh as Seungmin came to a halt by the doors leading out to the lobby. “If you plan on leaving, don’t get involved with her.” Seungmin nodded, forcing his laughter down. “And go home,” he added.

It was clear what Wonpil was insinuating but there was no way Seungmin was going to let the creep get away with what he’d just done. Especially not to you. “The world won’t miss him,” he replied under his breath. “I’m simply taking out the trash.”

Wonpil glanced up at him before looking around. “Fine,” he said definitively. “Just make it look like an accident and be careful.” Seungmin didn’t need telling twice. He nodded once and said goodbye to his friend before exiting to the lobby. If he was going to do this, he needed to get back to the club.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the club and by the time he got there, the club had closed with the patrons spilling out into the street, calling for taxis and other transportation home. Seungmin hid amongst the crowd, keeping his eye out until he finally spotted him.

‘Found you.’

It had not been a good night for Darren. From having water splashed in his face and poured on his shoes, being assaulted in the bathroom and not managing to find anyone else to come home with him, he left the club dejectedly and started the walk home. He was fortunate that his apartment building was a few blocks away.

As he started to walk away from the crowd, he glanced around to get an idea of his surroundings and who might be walking the same direction as him. He continued on, one foot in front of the other as he walked further from the busy boulevard and down side streets and alleys.

He stopped in his tracks as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and turned, looking behind him, scanning the area. He saw nothing, indicating he was alone, but he didn’t feel alone. He shook the feeling off and turned back around to continue on. 

He’d only gone a few more steps when he felt it again. The feeling of being watched. He turned back around, hands balling into fists as he stood his ground against his shadowy follower. He squinted, looking into the dark crevices. Inspecting the best he could from a distance.

Nothing moved. There were no sounds. No crickets, no rats or other critters squeaking or chittering. There was no sound of fans or air conditioning units. Nothing. It was as if someone hit mute on everything. There was no sound of vehicles passing on the larger streets nearby.

He shook the creeping feeling across his skin and continued on his way again. He wasn’t going to let some paranoid feeling get the best of him. Picking up the pace, he continued walking, hoping to get out of this neighborhood soon and into the one where he lived. Where he felt safe.

He heard the sound of footsteps and the scraping of metal against concrete, like a can had been kicked. He spun around but was met once again with an empty alleyway. The various steps and stoops up to the front doors were empty. Not even a cat waiting to be let in for the night.

There was nothing. Just him and the alley.

Darren quickened his pace yet again, practically jogging now as he tried to navigate his way out of this alley and back onto a major street. He could hear footsteps against pavement and broke into a run, noticing the end of the alley drawing closer and soon he was back on the main street with other people. He stopped, glancing back into the alley where he swore he saw a pair of glowing red eyes.

This spooked him enough to light a fire under him and he hurried back to his building, ignoring the looks from strangers around him as he pushed past them without so much as an ‘excuse me’ or apology. He reached his building, a high rise with a doorman who greeted him, opening the door for him.

Once in the elevator, Darren felt much better. Safer even. The ride up to the nineteenth floor didn’t take long and soon he was putting in the code for his apartment, letting himself in and shutting the door quickly behind him, locking it and taking a few deep breaths.

He’d managed to make it home and he felt infinitely better in his familiar surroundings. He started to settle, removing his shoes before stepping up onto the floor and going about his usual routine. He moved into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water and drinking it slowly as he thought about the events of the night.

Namely the man who came into the bathroom to rescue the woman who had splashed water in his face.

He’d never seen anything like it. The way the door was kicked in, almost like it had been blown in by a battering ram and then the way he stormed in. He moved so fast, Darren had no chance to react before he felt the man’s fist collide with his jaw. “Bastard,” he said softly as he reached up to massage the sore spot on his face. He knew it was going to bruise.

Darren finished his water before setting the empty glass in the sink and heading to the back of his apartment, towards his bedroom and bathroom. Inside the bathroom, he turned on the water, making it as hot as he could stand. Something to relax his tense muscles before bed.

He stripped, dropping his clothes in the hamper and stepped under the stream, closing the glass door behind him. The hot water beat down on him, steaming up the glass surfaces and obscuring his vision of the rest of the bathroom.

A sudden gust of cold wind hit him and he froze, looking away from the shower and quickly wiped the glass, squinting out into the bathroom and trying to see beyond the open bathroom door to his bedroom. He saw nothing and quickly opened the door, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist.

He stepped out of the shower, and started into the bedroom, the cool breeze still hitting him. Once inside his room he noticed that one of his windows was open. ‘What the hell?’

He hurried over and pulled it shut, latching the lock and looking outside to the city below. ‘How in the hell could that have opened?’ he wondered. He took a good look around the room but found nothing amiss. Nothing had been moved, nor did he see any sign of intruders.

Deciding he needed to just sleep it off, he headed back into the bathroom to finish his shower so he could go to bed. He hung the towel back up, stepping back into the glass case and shutting the door. He heard a scraping behind him against the glass and spun around.

There was nothing there. He turned to the door but again saw nothing. He turned the water off and shook his head. ‘You’re seeing things,’ he told himself and chuckled. “Man, you really need sleep.”

He turned to open the door and froze. Out of his periphery on the left side he could see a dark shadow. A figure. He turned to look at it, terror filling his veins as the figure didn’t disappear when he looked at it. Standing firmly beyond the glass was a dark shape, it was vaguely human.

“W-who are you?” he stammered, frozen in place. Darren could hear a faint buzzing and the light overhead started to flicker. He looked up at it quickly and then back but the shadow was gone. He turned back to the door and then everything happened in slow motion. 

He was confronted with a nightmarish creature. Black and red eyes, a grotesque pale face with a bat-like nose. The teeth. Each one was sharp and pointed and the creature's mouth was full of them.

It snarled and roared at him, causing him to jump and take a step back. Darren slipped, falling back in slow motion. His head collided with the tiled wall behind him, a sharp and intense pain spreading from the point of impact as he slid down the wall and onto the floor of the shower.

The creature, which had been hanging upside down, dropped to the floor, features shifting as it moved closer and knelt down, clicking its tongue as it did so.

“Tsk, tsk,” it said in the voice of a man. Darren looked up, his vision swimming in and out of focus. “You know, you really should have an anti slip mat in these things,” the creature turned man said and as his face came into focus, Darren’s eyes widened. “Y-you!” he stammered.

The man from before looked down at him coldly. His irises red as he glared. “I had told you I’d rip your fingers off one by one,” he said as he looked down at him. “But watching you hit your head and slowly succumb to the trauma is so much more satisfying,” he said, his voice full of malice.

“You can’t do this-” Darren choked out, fear taking over him as the man reached a hand down slowly. “Yes,” he replied. “I can and I will.” Darren felt the man’s fingers curl into his hair, picking his head up off the tiled floor before he gave him a cruel smile.

“I’ll teach you a lesson,” he hissed before slamming Darren’s head against the floor. As the man stood up, everything started to go black. “Wash this up,” the man said, turning on the shower, the water raining down on Darren’s body as his life ebbed away from him.

“Be glad I’ve given you this death. You deserve much worse.”

As his vision went black, the last thing Darren saw was the back of the man exiting his bathroom.

“In other news, authorities have said in a strange twist of events, a suspect in a serial rapist they’ve been trying to track down has died in an accident in his apartment. The suspect slipped and fell in the shower, hitting his head and dying from the trauma. Now let’s look at the weather.”

Seungmin looked up as Wonpil turned the television off. “I told you not to get involved,” Wonpil hissed as Seungmin sat perfectly still, staring back at him. “He slipped and fell,” Seungmin stated. “I didn’t touch him.” Wonpil narrowed his eyes.

“I guess his karma caught up to him,” Seungmin added, looking away from Wonpil.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. It looks like an accident,” Seungmin added. Wonpil shook his head. “You don’t get to play judge, jury, and executioner,” he stated. “We’re not supposed to get involved in these things. Let them sort it out.”

Seungmin narrowed his eyes at Wonpil. “Let them sort it out? So you’re saying I should have let him force himself on Y/N?” Seungmin asked incredulously. “No!” Wonpil, sounding exasperated. “I didn’t say that! I just meant that this is what happens when you get involved.”

Seungmin scoffed, getting up from the sofa. “So, it’s my fault?”

Wonpil gestured to the tv. “A man is dead!” he replied. “A man who had assaulted many. A serial rapist,” Seungmin argued. “Or did you just ignore that part?” Wonpil glared at him, huffing angrily as his pager started to beep. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the screen.

“I gotta go. Hospital needs me,” he said, getting up and grabbing his wallet. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” Wonpil said as he headed for the door. “Oh, and one more thing,” he continued, turning back to look at Seungmin. “Stay away from Y/N.”

Seungmin glared at the door as Wonpil disappeared. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished the device out, seeing he had a text from you. 

Y/N: you said you’d come and see me after i got released but you haven’t come ):

Seungmin chuckled, quickly typing out a response. He’d finally gotten the hang of having a phone and had no problems sending texts anymore though he still occasionally signed them off before erasing them, remembering they weren’t emails.

Seungmin: sorry. It’s been kind of hectic on this end. I do want to see you (:

Your response was swift.

Y/N: how about dinner tonight? My place? I’ll cook for you (:

Seungmin stared at the screen. Dinner? At your place? Alone? He hesitated. Could he resist the urge? The urge to want to be with you? To want you in every possible way he could have you? He knew if he gave in to that urge, there was no way he could leave you. He’d be tied to you in some way.

Against his better judgment, Seungmin responded.

Seungmin: sounds good. Seven o’clock?

Y/N: seven o’clock sounds perfect. I’ll see you soon (;

Seungmin chuckled at the winking face you’d sent as he locked and placed his phone in his pocket, checking the time on his watch. He had about an hour to get ready and head to your place. He wrote a note for Wonpil, letting him know that he wasn’t going to listen and that he was going to give in for once before grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.

The walk back to his place took half an hour as he had to weave between busy pedestrians without drawing attention. He raced to his apartment as soon as the elevator doors opened and once he was inside, he changed at top speed, rushing through the apartment.

Once he was ready, he headed back down and had about twenty minutes to get to your place before seven. He stopped on the way, grabbing a bottle of wine and a small bouquet of flowers. Nothing overly fancy. More of an “I’m thinking of you and hope you’re well,” kind of thing.

He arrived at your building with five minutes to spare, taking the buttonless elevator up to your floor. He watched as the counter stopped on the twentieth floor and he got off, heading to the unit number you’d instructed. Standing outside 2091, he felt like an idiot but he knocked regardless.

It took only a few moments for you to answer the door, opening it with a smile on your face as you greeted him. “Hey, come on in,” you said softly and stood aside to let him in. Seungmin stepped over the threshold. The notion that a vampire could not enter unless invited was garbage but he liked that you still invited him in.

“These are for you,” he said, handing the flowers over. You smiled, taking them with a thank you. “They’re lovely,” you added as you headed into the kitchen. Seungmin slipped off his shoes and followed you, glancing around your studio apartment. 

It was every bit uniquely you as you had described it to him. You had taken a singular space and turned it into three. The bedroom area was closed off by a hanging curtain and cubby shelves. The plants and string lights made it feel cozy and magical. Almost like a forest.

You’d turned the space near the door leading to the balcony into your living room, sectioning the space off but it didn’t feel cut off. Everything flowed nicely. The last space was against the wall on the other side of the living space. A small dining table and three chairs stood, all bar height.

Seungmin turned to you as you placed the flowers in an empty vase, setting the vase aside and turning to him. “Wine as well?” you asked, nodding at the bottle in his hand. He handed it over and you turned to your fridge, placing the bottle inside.

“I didn’t want to show up empty handed,” he answered. You turned back to him before moving to the kitchen counter. “So,” Seungmin said, moving to stand beside you. “What are you making?” he asked. “A stirfry,” you answered simply, cutting the vegetables.

“For me anyway,” you replied. Seungmin looked up at you, meeting your gaze.

“You don’t eat,” you said plainly. Seungmin was certain if his heart was alive, it would be pounding. Were you onto him? He broke into a smile, laughing. “What are you talking about?” he asked, chuckling. You moved to open the cabinet.

You pulled out a wine glass. “Do you want one?” you asked, looking at him. “For the sake of appearances?” Seungmin’s smile fell. “What are you talking about?” he asked as you moved to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of your own wine and pouring yourself a glass.

“Are you a vampire?”

Your question caught him completely off guard, knocking the wind out of him as he processed what you’d just asked. Had he imagined the whole thing? He didn’t even notice you pour another glass of wine and push it towards him.

You had asked him so nonchalantly. Like you were asking about his job or the weather.

‘Are you a vampire?’ Your voice echoed in his head. How was he supposed to answer? Did he lie and laugh it off? Did you already know for certain? Would denying it just make you mad and push you further away? That was the last thing he wanted.

“Well,” you said suddenly, pulling Seungmin from his thoughts. “Are you?”

He looked from your questioning gaze to the glass of wine sitting in front of him. He grabbed it, swirling the red liquid as he carefully thought about his answer. He wondered when you pieced it all together. Was it when he’d saved you from the creep in the club bathroom? Or perhaps it was before then. Had you known since the moment you met him when he was contemplating throwing himself from the cliff?

But if so, how could you have known? In all his years, he’s never met another person who deduced his true nature who wasn’t already a supernatural being themselves. Maybe he had you all wrong? Was there more to you than met even his eyes?

“Am I what?” he finally spoke, looking up from the crimson wine, through his lashes to meet your gaze.

“A vampire?”

Seungmin held his breath, staring you down. Normally when he made eye contact like this, everyone would shy away from his intense gaze, everyone except you it would seem. You held his gaze, staring back almost challengingly. “What makes you think that?” Seungmin asked softly, still staring back at you.

“Just a hunch, I guess,” you replied, looking away from his eyes momentarily to take a sip of your wine before glancing back up again. “I thought about it when I first saw you,” you explained. “You looked so… tormented and lonely.” Seungmin continued to hold his breath as you spoke.

“Not to mention those stories you told me when we first met on the cliff that day. So much history. So many tales,” you continued, a small smile appearing on your lips. “And then when you seemingly knew where I was at the club when that… man--”

“Monster,” Seungmin interrupted, catching you off guard as you looked back up in shock.

“That wasn’t a man,” Seungmin continued. “That was a monster.”

You tilted your head curiously. “If he’s a monster, what does that make you?” you asked softly, setting  your glass on the granite counter. Seungmin let out a dark chuckle. “Never said I wasn’t one, too, sweetheart,” he countered, taking another sip of his wine, watching the line settle as he set the glass on the counter as well, looking up to meet your gaze.

He tried to discern the emotion behind the look you were giving him now. He thought perhaps by now your flight or fight response would have kicked in but alas, you were looking at him more out of concern than fear. Were you concerned about what he could do to you? Or were you concerned for him?

“You know,” Seungmin said, chuckling as the notion crossed his mind. “I’m not a mind-reader,” he added. “I’d like to know what’s going on in your head.” He waited while you gathered your thoughts, waiting for you to say something. To say anything.

“Did you kill him?” you asked suddenly, catching him completely off guard. “What?” he whispered.

You tilted your head to the side, still maintaining eye contact with him, like you weren’t staring a predator in the face. “Did you kill him? The man from the club, the one you said is a monster.”

Seungmin hesitated. It seemed you’d already made up your mind about the nature of his being yet neither of you commented on it. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to,” he answered finally, lifting his glass but hesitating when you spoke, the glass barely touching his lips.

“Spare me the evasive act. I’m not an idiot,  Seungmin. I know danger when I see it. Everything in my body is telling me you’re dangerous just like that man. The only difference is that the danger I felt with him is learned. The danger I feel from you is primal. It’s ingrained in my brain. Hardwired because you aren’t human. You’re something more.”

Seungmin looked past the glass at your slightly distorted figure before lowering the glass to peer at you over the rim. “Then why did you invite me here?” he asked before downing the rest of his wine, setting the glass aside and getting to his feet.

You watched as he slowly stalked around the kitchen island towards you. His eyes locked on you as he moved, you felt suddenly like prey caught in the gaze of a predator and for the first time since you met him, you felt like you were truly in danger. 

You were certain Seungmin was a vampire. You knew he was more than a simple man. The way he carried himself and sometimes spoke was like he was pulled straight from one of Jane Austen’s novels. He was from a different time period and although his face didn’t show his age, his eyes certainly did.

He may look like a man in his mid twenties but his eyes were that of a being that had seen hundreds of years. You watched as he approached, closing in on you, backing you up against the wall behind you. Your back met the hard surface as he rested his hands against the wall on either side of your head, eyes inspecting your face as he leaned closer.

Your breathing had sped up, heart racing as he approached, eyes fixated on you as if he was about to pounce and deliver a killing blow. Your eyes flickered between his, noticing up close how red they were. Not the sclera. His irises were a deep blood red. From a distance, you’d assumed they were brown but now you saw the true color and your mind was made up for you.

Seungmin was a vampire, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind.

Seungmin’s eyes scanned your face, from your eyes, down to your lips before they dipped down to your neck and then back up to meet your gaze.

“I can hear your heart racing,” he said softly, his voice barely audible of the ticking of the clock hanging above your head. He tilted his head to the side, a smirk forming on his lips. “I’m fine,” you whispered. Seungmin chuckled. “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” he replied.

One of his hands moved, fingers brushing against the skin of your neck, just over your pulse point. An involuntary shiver ran up your spine. “Why are you shaking?” he asked, leaning closer, his lips mere inches from yours as his eyes searched yours. “You’re not scared of me are you, little rabbit?”

You shook your head. “No,” you whispered, knowing your soft voice was giving you away. Seungmin’s hand slipped behind your head, fingers pulling at the hair at the base of your neck. “Don’t lie to me, pet,” he retorted, eyes scanning your face, dipping down to your throat and back up. Had you not been watching, you would have missed the way he licked his lips and swallowed.

“Does it bother you?” you asked softly, drawing his attention. “Hmm?” he hummed in response. “Being so close to a source,” you continued. Seungmin narrowed his eyes, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. “A source? Of what?” he asked, knowing what you were about to say.

“Blood.”

Seungmin froze, staring at you. Before he had a chance to answer, to defend his secret, you spoke again.

“I told you I’m not an idiot, Seungmin,” you said. 

He pulled back slowly to look in your eyes. You could see the color had shifted to red. Just like that night outside the club. That was when you truly knew what you were up against. What kind of danger you were in every time you saw him. Every time you leaned in to kiss him goodnight.

At any point, he could have snapped and killed you, drained you of your blood but you wanted to know why he didn’t. Why didn’t he eat people? ‘What a weird question to contemplate,’ you told yourself.

“But I do have a question,” you whispered. Seungmin hesitated, waiting for your query.

You licked your lips before speaking. “Why don’t you feed from humans?” you asked before realizing you had made an assumption. Perhaps he did feed from humans. “Sorry.” you said quickly. “I’m making assumptions.” Seungmin smiled and shook his head. “It’s quite alright,” he replied.

“Your assumption is right. I don’t feed from humans. I don’t even feed from animals. Not directly anyway,” he replied. “What do you feed from?” you asked softly. “Blood bags,” Seungmin admitted. “It’s a more lowkey way to feed,” he explained.

“Where do you get them?” you asked softly, watching as he tilted his head to the side, studying you. He was hoping you’d do the math and figure it out and as you wracked your brain it hit you.

His friend. “Wonpil,” you whispered. You met his gaze. “Is he a vampire, too?” you asked. Seungmin hesitated but eventually nodded his head. “Yes,” he replied. “He gets the blood bags for me. It really pays off, having a doctor friend,” he added. You shook your head in disbelief.

“How does he do what he does?” you asked. “With all the blood,” you continued. Seungmin smiled and nodded. “Sounds very Twilight of him,” he noted. “Doesn’t it?” Chuckling again when you nodded, Seungmin continued to explain.

“He used to be a doctor. In fact, he was a highly sought after royal doctor back in the day,” he continued. “And then in the army, he was a combat medic. That’s how we met,” he added. “On the battlefield. My squad took heavy fire and he was sent in to assess and do what he could but when he saw I was completely unharmed, he knew immediately what I was and I knew what he was.”

You stared back at him as he explained more of his background. “We’ve been friends ever since. He’s the only person I’ve ever leaned on or trusted,” he continued, before glancing down at you. “Until now at least,” he added, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

“You trust me?” you asked softly. Seungmin nodded. “I do,” he replied, eyes dipping to your lips and back up. “Do you trust me?” he asked. You hesitated only for a moment before nodding. “Yes,” you answered, bringing your hand up to place over his. “I trust you.”

Seungmin closed the distance, kissing you passionately as he pinned you against the wall. You moaned into his mouth as he grinded against you, eagerly swallowing the sounds you made under his touch. “Tell me you want this,” he said softly, resting his forehead against yours as you panted heavily.

“Tell me you want me,” he continued. You moved one of your hands up to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. “I want this,” you replied. “I want you.” Seungmin let out a small growl, grabbing your hips and pulling you away from the wall, guiding you over to the kitchen island.

You let out a squeak of surprise as Seungmin easily lifted you, turning and depositing you on the counter. “If I was more patient, I’d make you run,” he murmured, leaning in, his lips inches from yours, nose gently bumping yours. “If I was more patient, I’d take my time with you,” he continued, his hands moving down to the hem of your sweater, fingers gently toying with the material.

“Then why don’t you?” you asked, eyes searching his. He smiled in response, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his fangs. “Because I’m not a patient man,” he answered before pulling back and lifting your sweater, tossing it aside. He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss, his tongue slipping past your parted lips.

You let out a whine as you felt one of his fangs graze against your bottom lip. “Are you going to feed from me?” you whispered when he broke the kiss. Seungmin chuckled, hands moving down to your jeans, undoing the button and zipper. “No,” he replied. “Not unless you want me to,” he added, tugging your pants down past your hips. You lifted your butt to make it easier for him.

Your jeans joined your sweater on the floor, leaving you in your underwear. The granite countertop was cold against your skin as Seungmin peppered kisses along your collar. “Will that kill me?” you whispered, heart racing as he kissed down your sternum, pushing you onto your back as he continued kissing down your stomach. “No,” he said with another amused tone.

“I’m not going to puncture your jugular,” he added. “I don’t feed from that high,” he added. “Not unless I’m trying to kill you.” You swallowed thickly as he continued to kiss down, his lips meeting the hem of your panties. “May I?” he asked softly, raising his head to make eye contact. You nodded wordlessly, watching as he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs, discarding them along with the rest of your clothes.

“Seungmin,” you breathed out as his lips trailed down the inside of your thigh. “Yes, sweetheart?” he asked, raising his head slightly. “I want you to feed from me,” you murmured, cheeks burning as his gaze bore into yours. “Are you sure, doe?” he asked, tilting his head. You nodded silently, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth.

You watched as he lowered his head, nipping at the skin of your inner thigh. You let out a gasp at the sensation. “Wait,” you said suddenly, propping yourself up on your elbows. “This isn’t gonna turn me into a vampire, right?” you asked. Seungmin chuckled again.

“No,” he answered. “You would have to feed from me to become like me,” he added. Your eyes widened at the thought. “Feed from you?” you asked, to which he nodded. Your head fell back as you felt his tongue against the skin of your thigh. “Just don’t kill me, please,” you mumbled.

Seungmin chuckled to himself before sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh.

You let out a cry of pain, followed by a gasp as you felt his thumb brush over your clit. “Oh shit,” you groaned. You could feel blood leaving your body through the wound to your thigh. It was almost like having someone sucking a hickey but more intense.

“I knew you would taste so sweet,” you heard him groan. “Seungmin,” you started, lifting your head but letting out a moan, head falling back as you felt his tongue against your clit, his fingers toying with your slit. “Oh fucking hell,” you gasped as he teased the nub with the tip of his tongue.

“M’gonna cum,” you moaned, thighs shaking as your high approached only for Seungmin to pull away. “Not yet,” he purred, his breath hot against your sex. “You’ll cum when I let you,” he added. As your orgasm slipped away, you felt his fingers ease into your entrance slowly, two at a time.

He set a steady pace, watching the way his fingers disappeared into your tight heat. “I can’t wait to fill you up,” he said softly, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you. “Please,” you moaned as he sped up slowly. Your orgasm was just out of your reach.

It was beginning to get frustrating. After weeks of nothing from him. Weeks of wanting this man, you finally had him and you were even more frustrated that your orgasm was evading you. Each time he toyed with your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge but not enough for you to topple over it.

“Seungmin,” you begged. “Please fuck me.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he said as he pulled away, licking his fingers clean. You pushed yourself up as Seungmin shrugged his jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. You pulled him into a kiss, his hands fumbling with his buckled and zipper, undoing his pants and pushing them down.

You moaned as he pushed into you easily, your walls stretching to accommodate the intrusion. “Shh,” he hushed you, smoothing your hair and cupping your cheek. “Look at me,” he said softly. You looked up at him, meeting his blood red gaze.

“That’s it,” he cooed, pulling back and giving you a shallow thrust. “F-fffuuuck,” you groaned as he set a steady pace, cock dragging against your walls with each push and pull. “Seungmin,” you whined as he held you up. “Feel’s so good,” you groaned, moving your hips to meet his.

“Shit,” you heard him hiss. “That,” he instructed. “Keep doing that, sweetheart,” he groaned, thrusting harder, the sound of skin hitting skin being the only thing to fill the space. “I need to cum,” you whined, unshed tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“And you will,” Seungmin replied. “But only when I say so.”

“How’s the bite?” you asked suddenly. Seungmin glanced down at your thigh. The bleed had stopped already. “It’s fine,” he huffed. “Don’t worry about it,” he added. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his head towards your neck.

“Y/N,” he warned. “Please,” you breathed. “Please Seungmin.”

Something Seungmin prided himself on was his unfaltering and unwavering quality. His ability to put his foot down and say no but he was finding it harder and harder to say no to you. He sighed, groaning as your walls gripped him tightly.

“Fine,” he said softly, lips brushing against your skin. “But just a small one,” he replied before sinking his teeth into the base of your neck. You let out a moan, walls clenching around him, fingers tightening in his hair. “Oh shit,” you cursed. “Fuck me,” you groaned.

Seungmin pulled back, lips tainted red from your blood. “I already am,” he joked before rolling his tongue over the bite wound to your neck. The taste of you on his tongue he pulled back, bringing one hand up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

You could taste iron on his tongue. Blood. Your blood.

You moaned into the kiss, nails scratching against his skin.

Seungmin pulled away, returning to your neck, licking at the wound. “I’m not gonna bleed out, right?” you asked weakly, your orgasm slipping away for the nth time as Seungmin slowed his movements. “You’ll be fine,” Seungmin murmured, still occasionally licking at the bite on your neck. “It’s almost done bleeding. It’s coagulating,” he added.

“F-fuck,” you hissed. Seungmin chuckled, giving you a sharp thrust. “And you p-promise I’m not gonna -hng- bleed out?” you asked, a moan slipping out between your words. Seungmin nodded, his free hand cupping the back of your neck. “I promise,” he replied. “You’ve already stopped bleeding,” he added.

You opened your mouth to respond, only moaning as his hips set a steady, even pace. M’so close,” you whined, head falling forward, your forehead resting against his. “Already?” he teased. “Before I’ve even properly fucked you?” You whined in response, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“My bad,” he joked. “I might have gone a little overboard earlier,” he added, placing his hand against the counter, his hips hitting yours with each thrust. Your vision blurred, tears filling as the tension in your body built up again. One hand tangled in his hair, the other reaching around to hold onto his shoulder as you buried your face in his neck. “M’ gonna-” your words failed as your orgasm crashed over you unexpectedly.

“That really was quick,” Seungmin chuckled as he helped you ride it out. As you fell limp in his hold, he pulled out of you, carefully guiding you down off the counter before turning you to face it, pushing you over as he guided himself back inside your tight heat.

“Now it’s my turn,” he said, taking both hips in his hands and setting a punishing pace, making you cry out, the tears in your eyes finally falling. “Are you crying?” he asked breathlessly. “Does it feel that good?” he mused.

You were unable to speak and respond to his question, instead answering only in jumbled words, moans, and chants of his name. Seungmin’s hand moved up to your shoulder, pulling your back up as he leaned over, lips next to your ear. “Crying only makes me want to ruin you more,” he said, his tone dark. “It’s not gonna make me go easy on you.”

You cried out as his thrusts increased, hips hitting your ass repeatedly with the same slapping sound.

The sounds of your cries only spurred him on, your sniffles and sobs fueling his desire to wreck you. “Almost,” he groaned, his own orgasm approaching. “Fuck, m’close,” he announced. “Where you want it?” he asked. You lifted your head weakly. “I-inside me,” you moaned.

Seungmin groaned, hips stuttering. “You sure?” he asked and you nodded. “Give it to me,” you whimpered. “Cum inside me, Seungmin, please.” 

That was all he needed to hear, groaning into your ear as he released inside you, painting your insides with cum. “Oh shit,” he cursed, hips slowing as he fucked his release further into you. “Oh god,” you  groaned, feeling his cum fill your cunt as he pulled your back against his chest.

“That’s it, little rabbit,” he grunted. “Take all of it.”

His hips stilled and you whined, falling limp in his hold. Seungmin leaned over, one arm around your chest, the other holding the both of you up over the countertop. “Shit,” you heard him hiss. “You’re going to need a shower,” he said softly.

You whimpered as he pulled out of you. “Or we both might need one,” he corrected. You glanced over your shoulder at him. “Are you staying?” you asked, looking at him with those expectant eyes. How could he ever think to leave.

He’d spent most of his immortal life jumping from identity to identity. He’d grown bored and weary of that life and now he had the chance to do something new and exciting. He smiled at you and nodded. Sure, you assumed he meant he was staying the night but deep down, he was agreeing to stay for the foreseeable future.

And who knows. Maybe, just maybe he’ll stay for eternity if that means he gets an eternity with you.

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #seungmin scenarios #seungmin imagines #seungmin fanfic #seungmin smut #seungmin x reader #kwanisms kinktober 2023

[bitterchocoo]

Can I request an romantic angst with Aventurine and Malleus (Male Reader)? Like Male Reader is turning into his Overblot form because he realizes he'll outlive Aventurine and trapping Penacony in the dreamscape.

Once Upon a Dream

Aventurine | M. Reader as Malleus Draconia [Twisted Wonderland]

----------

"You'll love me at once.... the way you did once upon a.. dream.."

----------

[Name] Draconia.. the crown prince.. of Briar Valley..

No one would have thought that someone like him... could have his eyes on someone from the IPC! How!? Some money grubbing asshole?! Has the prince gone mad!? He's obviously being used!?

Meanwhile on the IPC side, it's more of.. disbelief...

How? How could someone like him have none other than the crown prince of Briar Valley?? Him? Of all people??

But if one were to stop and look for just a moment... it's not what everyone originally thinks. The prince's lover.. is far from the "money grubbing asshole" people say he is. He's surprisingly charming, and has his way with words. One could see why the prince loved him so much.

Same thing could be said to the prince. People who once saw him as a cold and uncaring person was shock to see just how caring he can be.

Some would say, they're perfect for each other. They completed each other. They're the only ones who could see right past each others mask and saw the real, true version of themselves.

----------

A music box that plays an unknown melody. Its tune sounded unsettling yet also calming. Like a tune playing in a distant dream.

It intrigues him.

Such a unique way to invite someone..

And oh how happy he was to see his beloved in that place. His beloved who was also invited into this place where others would pay millions just to spend the night in.

Penacony.

"Ah! You Highness, I see that you're also invited? I thought they might have forgotten your invitation." Aventurine joked sarcastically. It's almost comedic with how [Name] always didn't receive an invitation where he is supposed to have one. It's like fate is messing with him.

[Name] can't help but chuckle at the joke. "Yes, I am indeed invited to this grand festival."

"Well that's good, it means you could enjoy a once in an Amber Era performance."

During his visit, the crown prince had met multiple people, they're so friendly and they didn't seem to fear him. How delightful! Accepting Penacony's invitation had got to be the best decision [Name] had ever made! Not to mention, meeting the famed Nameless too! If only he could share this moment with Lilia. Those rectangular things are just so hard to command! [Name] has full respect to people who know how to use such objects. Truly, they earned his respect.

And oh how happy he was that the Trailblazer wanted to spend some time with him exploring the dreamscape. This is truly more than he could ever wish for.

.

.

.

.

.

"Please let me go!"

Drip... drip.. drip..

.

.

"Is that you, Screwllum?"

Drip... drip.. drip... drip...

.

.

Those words...

Such desperation..

Such sorrow..

Isn't this a dreamscape? Then why are they suffering? Why the sadness? Why the sorrows? Why the desperation? Those people he helped Trailblazer save.. why are they so..

It wasn't until the Trailblazer explained it that he finally understood...

...

.....

...Have humans always been this fragile..? Have they always been this vulnerable to everything around them? To the point that it'll only take a single flick from someone like him and the flames of their lives extinguished?

The sight of that girl being killed by that thing... are humans truly that fragile? That a simple and clean injury caused them their lives?

Drip... drip.. drip... drip... drip..

...

"Aventurine!" The sight of his beloved walking like he had come out of a bar or a fight. It broke his heart with how distraught he is. His beloved.. how could this happen? Who did this? Why is his beloved like this?

[Name] glanced at Dr. Ratio, expecting an answer out of him. Only to be met by silence. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as doubt and uneasiness creeps within him. But that doesn't matter at the moment... what matters is his beloved. [Name] turned his head to face Aventurine as he looked at him with concern and loving eyes. "Aventurine, are you already? Can you stand properly? I can carry you if you like."

"It's nothing serious, [Name] just a killer headache, that's all." Aventurine says with his usual smile.

As far as [Name] recalls these things called "headaches" aren't usually this.. horrible.. has these headaches always been like this? Is immense pain what they all feel whenever these headaches happen?

"It's nothing really, I'll be fine! But if you excuse me.. I have some work to do.." Aventurine says before walking towards Aideen Park with a rather large bag. [Name] watches on as his beloved practically whimpers in pain, he can't help but feel saddened by the sight. Where is his usual energetic and happy beloved? Why did this have to happen? Who did this to him? Who dare lay a hand on the [Name] Draconia's beloved?!

Dr. Ratio seems to have noticed the other's distress as he let out a sigh before saying. "It's pitiful isn't it? But I suppose that's just how it is. One day we all will be like that too. Supposed you could say, he's preparing for that day."

...

...'we all will be like that too'..? What does the doctor mean by that..?

Looking at his surroundings, [Name] could see a dew elderly people walking around the Golden Hour. They look tired and worn out, with wrinkles on their faces and those white hairs...

Is that what happens to humans when they age? If he recalls, Lilia had told him something about these before. But.. never would [Name] thought he'll see it for himself. This thing actually happens. Humans age and then they...

...will Aventurine face the same too?

Will he too grow old and tired? Will he need a cane to help him walk? Will he suffer from some sort of illness or fatigue? Will he..

The thought puts a pit on [Name]'s stomach.

He's going to outlive him. [Name] would continue to live while Aventurine...

----------

'A once in an Amber Era performance'..

Oh how true those words are.. How true those words are..

Standing behind the curtains of the Theme Park, Aventurine ready himself for his upcoming act. But as his hands touch the soft material of it, his guest seems to have found him first before he could say anything else. The ground shakes like a light earthquake. This wasn't his doing. This wasn't a part of the performance! What's going on?

As much as it spoils his plans... Aventurine has no choice but to deal with this situation first and who wouldn't make a better teammate than his friends from the Astral Express? Carefully walking towards the center stage of the Theme Park. They certainly didn't expect the Prince of Briar Valley to be there. What is he doing in a place like this? Deserted. Where he stands alone with only his thoughts accompanying him.

Turning around to face the crowd, he smiles at the sight of them. "Well well... what a glamorous party. The Astral Express... the Emanator.. and the IPC's ambassador.. everyone is here. Fufufu...!"

His usual deep and velvety voice sounded just as soft as always, but somehow for an unknown reason, that tone sounded ominous, sinister even. A chill went down Aventurine's spine. Never had he heard just a tone [Name] before..

"Aventurine.. I've been thinking about this. What should I give to you.. No, what should I give you all? And I finally got the answer."

"Please accept this... It's a gift from the bottom of my heart."

They all look uneasy. A gift? What is it for? For what occasion? A gift for everyone? What is this gift? Gathering his courage, Mr. Yang spoke up in a calm and nervous tone. "Gift? Your Highness... what are you thinking about?"

[Name] can't help but chuckle at those words. "Listen carefully, everyone! I've bestowed a wonderful gift for you all. There's no need to part ways and shed tears again. We shouldn't celebrate "the end" today, it's the "beginning"!"

"Fufu.. yes. All of you will be born again today." Raising a hand, [Name] channels his magic as he smiles sweetly at everyone. His usual friendly smile looks more sinister with every word that came out of his mouth.

"To a world without sorrow where you don't have to lose your family, friends.. everything!"

.

.

The fight is not easy. Far from it. Never would they think that they'll be fighting the Prince of Briar Valley. Fighting someone as skilled as him is a nightmare in itself, but they've survived for this long.. and it seems that [Name] had enough as he engulfed the surrounding area in flames.

"Back off, you fool.. why be afraid? Even though a wonderful future is waiting for you. Now give me your hand, fufufu... hahaha!" Channeling another spell, [Name] smiles warmly to welcome this new era. One without pain and suffering.

"Spinning wheel of fate, keep pulling the thread of disaster. As King of the Abyss, I shall bestow this upon you."

"Fae of Maleficence."

.

.

.

.

The tune of the music box he received.. it's such a nice calming tune, yet so ominous..

.

Drip... drip.. drip... drip... drip.. drip..

The bustling life of Penacony... had come to an abrupt stop.. to embrace another dreamscape. One with no danger.. a safe heven..

A place where they all can live happily as all of Penacony is engulfed in thick thorn walls. Like a cage. "Don't worry... there's nothing to be afraid of. If you surrender to sleep, a thousand years will go by in an instant." The Prince stated with confidence as he calmly walked through the stage of the Theme Park in his new form. A form that he had embraced to fulfill his wish and grant everyone this wonderful gift.

"You all will become the main character of a fairytale."

It's a tune no one couldn't possibly be mistaken. Like a lullaby. Maybe those who sent him such a thing.. has the Prince's heart in mind. As he sang a lullaby to help them have a pleasant and wonderful dream. Following the tune of his invitation to this.. place..

"I know you.. I walked with you once upon a dream.. I know you.. that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.."

"And I know it's true, that visions are seldom what they seem.. but if I know you.. I know what you'll do... you'll love me at once..."

"The way you did once upon.. a... dream..."

#seme male reader #top male reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x male reader #twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus

[bonafideyapper]

DAY OFF - maximus (fallout tv) x female!reader (smut)

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!!! 18+ // virgin maximus, you work for free because he’s just so sweet, no use of “y/n” but “your name” is typed out, subby (switch) Maximus, he’s embarrassed, I love it; reader is described as female, chubby, and southern/from the east coast, premature ejaculation (but the stamina is there fr he’s back up and ready in like 30 seconds flat); oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it ‘fo you tap it, reader), creampie, I probably forgot some but tbh I didn’t expect to get as raunchy as I did (not proofread)

(this is written to be a one-shot but if there’s enough interest in a second part i’ll work something up :)) 

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

Maximus was pretty pissed off and worn down by the time he came across a settlement along the way to tracking down the head, or the armor, he really didn’t know what his purpose in life was at the moment. He was just tired and needed some water, maybe a snack. He kept thinking back to that vault dweller he met in Filly, her pretty big eyes and that cute little smile. He’d never see her again, but hey, at least he could have the memory. 

He stumbled into the first crudely established business he could find that might serve him, taking a seat at the bar and trying to get the bartender’s attention. Clearly had not taken in the scenery of the bar he was in. Beautiful women stood around, each one with various male patrons. Unable to properly get the man’s attention; Maximus huffed and let his shoulders slump in near-defeat. After meeting the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and then getting his ass kicked and losing the fucking armor, he had little energy left to give. 

You noticed this from your position at the end of the bar, slowly inching your way down as he took his place at the bar. The man had barely looked up when he burst through the door, clearly not noticing he had stumbled into the only brothel for miles around. Well respectable women making money to support themselves, helping weary travelers and the occasional rough raider to get some peace and release for the night. Today was your day off, but you always loved a little challenge. 

“Emmett! Would you be a dear and get me two waters?” You leaned over the bar and flashed the old man a big smile, he had always had a soft spot for you since you’d always slip him a big tip from whatever you made upstairs. Emmett filled up two glasses of water and slid them across to land in front of you, “On the house, beautiful.” 

You turned to get a good look at the man, fighting back a laugh as he stared at the glass of cold water in your hand, almost resembling a panting dog. “Here, honey; this is for you.” He muttered out a ‘thanks’ as he took the glass and took it down in three gulps, setting it back down on the counter between them. 

Maximus was smitten the moment he laid eyes on you, his literal saving grace. He finally took in his surroundings and cleared his throat, trying to put on that macho attitude of a knight, but really just an awkward little guy (with and) without that armor. “Thank you, um, I didn’t seem to catch your name?” He tried not to notice the obvious – that you were a whore, and he was a lying squire. He figured you two were one in the same, he was the lowest rung of the Brotherhood’s hierarchy, and you were, well, a prostitute. Max didn’t really care though; he had never seen someone as captivating as you, especially not in the wasteland. 

You told him your name, and Maximus swore he had never heard anything so beautiful before. He watched you take small sips from the glass in front of you as you spoke with him for the next few minutes, realizing he had yet to offer you his name. To lie or not to lie, that is the question.

“M-Maximus. That’s my name.” He told you, offering up a piece of knowledge about himself. Hey, he figured he’d never be back in this part of the wasteland, telling you his real name wouldn’t hurt nobody. “I uh, I don’t have any caps, so if you’re looking for a customer…” He trailed off, thinking you were only there for one thing. 

“Well, lucky for you, today’s my day off.” You flashed him an award-winning smile, one that would’ve been plastered on billboards in the old world. 

The two of you talked for awhile, neither of you too worried about the environment around you. You filled in most of the silence with some stories about your past. He found out you were close to his age, had come to the western wasteland from what used to be the Carolinas, and were working in the saloon until you could find someone to take you back to Appalachia. You both sat there until closing time, Emmett giving you signal with a jerk of his head towards the stairs leading up to your room with an eyebrow up as if asking, “Charity work on your day off?”

“Hey Maxie, you wanna go get some sleep? Only five caps for a nice place to rest.” You squeezed his arm gently, leaning towards him, “No business, just as friends.” Maximus had never had a nickname before, other than the verbal insults spat at him by his fellow brothers. After spending quite some time with you, he decided that he liked the nickname, and would not let the abuse of the Brotherhood affect his brief time with you. He found himself nodding without thinking over your offer, blindly following you once you moved your dainty little hand to grab onto his larger one. Once he was behind you, he took notice of the way your dress moved as you walked, swaying slightly with each step. He tried to remain honorable and not stare at your ass as you went up the stairs, believing you were telling the truth when you claimed that no ‘business’ would happen.

Boy had he been wrong.

Once you had him safely in the confines of your room, your lips were on him like flies to honey. He desperately kissed you, his hands coming up to hold your cheeks like you’d float away if he didn’t anchor your body to his. Or, maybe he felt like he’d float away if he didn’t hold onto you. 

“No, no no no no! This can’t be happening.” Maximus broke away from your lips suddenly, trying to push you from his lap at the feeling of his growing erection. 

“Hey hey, calm down.” You frowned and grabbed onto his hands, distracting him by putting them firmly on your thighs and looking up into his frantic eyes, “What’s wrong, honey?” 

“I think my cock is about to explode.” Maximus panicked and frowned when you just laughed in his face, not taking his worries about the brainwashed BoS sex ed seriously. Your hands floated up to rest on the side of his neck, your thumb ghosting over the scar running along his chin.

“Oh, bless your heart. Maxie, that’s what‘s supposed to happen. Do you trust me to make that feel good for you?” The way you cooed to him in a condescending way in that sweet southern accent made him whimper. His head nodded on instinct, going into this with blind trust for you since hey, you were a professional. With him finally voicing the consent on the matter, you flashed him a big smile and resumed making out with him. Your hands drifted down between your two bodies, palming him gently through the front of his pants and eliciting sweet whimpers from the virgin. 

His hands were clumsy as they explored your body, but you didn’t really mind. He finally discovered the places his hands felt like home, one landing on the soft, plump flesh of your hip as the other found its place on your lower back. He pulled your body closer, seeming to gain more courage as the night progressed. Something about a safe bed and a good-looking woman in his lap just did it for him, y’know? 

Max shifted you both down so he could lay his upper body back against your pillows, just trying to get comfortable and not think about the way his cock felt–you made it very hard (pun intended) to think about anything else. You broke your lips away from his and let out a melodic giggle as he chased your lips. You needed him out of that white t-shirt that oh-so-deliciously clung to his biceps, so naturally your hands reached to pull it over his head. 

You really were the best at what you did, and you knew it, Maximus could tell. You expertly removed his belt and pants without him even noticing, only detaching your lips from his because you had started to leave a trail moving down, down, down…

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you thought to yourself. Taking time to press open-mouthed kisses along any scars that may have been on his abdomen, you glanced up to see his eyes locked on you. Half-lidded brown eyes stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat as you finally reached your destination. You carefully opened his pants and tapped his hip gently, asking him to lift up to make this a little easier for you. As he obeyed, you pulled his pants down in one swift motion, smirking when you saw his cock. Perfectly shaped, thick and girthy, just how you liked it, and rock-hard as it sprung up out of the confines of his briefs. 

“Still trust me?” You whispered to him before you put your hands on him again, basically salivating over the thought. Maximus didn’t even need to hear the rest of your question, nodding frantically after you uttered the first syllable. Taking his cock in your hand, you easily began working him, keeping your eyes on him. You loved the look on a virgin’s face when you touched them for the first time, and Max was no different. His eyes had closed, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Absolutely fucking beautiful, in your professional opinion.

His hands found their way to your hair as you licked a drop of precum from the tip of his cock, humming softly in delight at the salty substance before immediately getting to work. You wrapped your lips around him and gathered enough saliva to really make it enjoyable for him, not even having time to really get sloppy with it when the pretty boy had busted in your mouth with a profuse apology. Greedy, you pulled your mouth off of him and swallowed down the load. You thought it was cute how apologetic he was at how quick it had happened, so you wiped your mouth and leaned up to kiss him again. “Don’t apologize, I’m not done.” 

Max didn’t know what else to expect, already astonished that it had gone on this long and his cock was still attached to his body. With his cock standing staunch and almost painfully erect again, Maximus let out a pitiful whine when you lifted your dress over your head. You guided his hands to your hips again, starting to work a rhythm against him with your hips. 

“You okay if I ride you, honey?” You asked him, peppering kisses across his jaw and down his neck. Maximus nodded quickly and dug his fingertips into your pudgy hips, moving you in his lap the way that he wanted. He thinks he’s starting to get the hang of this sex thing, until you lift yourself up and he feels the warmest, softest grip he’s ever felt before. He thought your mouth was the best thing he had ever felt, until he felt the way your pussy gripped his cock alll the way down until he was buried inside you. 

“Shit, Maxie, you might be the biggest I’ve ever taken.” You mewled, leaning over his body in a way that perfectly positioned your breasts above his face. You put your weight on your hands on either side of his head, propping yourself up to start moving your hips. Grinding into him for a moment to really feel how deep he was before lifting yourself up and dropping yourself back down to test the waters with your new toy. 

Meanwhile Maximus couldn’t focus, at this moment he had completely abandoned his faith in the Brotherhood, creating a new religion in your body. Maybe he was just delusional over getting laid but he would worship the ground you walked on after this. His mouth found one of your nipples and latched onto it almost instinctively (don’t mommy kink shame me), rolling his tongue over the sensitive bud before pulling back to give the other some well deserved attention. 

You finally fell into a good rhythm, leaning back on him and grabbing onto his legs behind you for support as Maximus figured out that if he thrust his hips up just right, you’d let out a new sound. At some point you realized he had taken over, his hands digging roughly into your hips and thighs as he fucked up into you. 

Maximus grinned when he realized that not only did this feel great, it looked like you were actually enjoying it too. He was a quick learner, figuring out which ways to move his hips that would elicit the sweeeetest noises from your throat. He decided to get cocky with it and put those squire muscles to good use, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you in place against his body as he pistons his hips quicker. Admittedly becoming more sloppy, but he soon realized that it was because you had come completely undone in his arms. 

Your eyes had rolled back as soon as he help you in place, nothing but the sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your moans that were getting higher and higher in pitch. “Max- fuck- Maximus—“ you tried to warn him that you were going to cum, burying your face in his shoulder and white-knuckling the blanket as you exploded instead, a gush of what Maximus thought was piss (he would later learn that no, you didn’t just urinate on him) coating the two of their abdomens. Never deterred him though, because soon after Max had let the explosion feeling take himself over, pumping his heavy load into you. You swore you could feel it literally hit your cervix and hoped you weren’t ovulating.

Maximus kept his arms tightly around you as you laid on top of him for a moment, moving only slightly in a way that would allow his cock to slip from your velvety walls. Leaving you with the ejaculate mix dripping down your thighs. His fingers traced up your spine gently before his dropped his arm to the side, letting you get up if you so pleased. 

You did, but only after hovering your face over his to brush your lips against his in an almost-tender kiss. Your legs were shakier than you’d like to admit as you crawled off of him, cleaning yourself up a bit before wrapping yourself in your nice robe. Maximus sat up a bit on his elbows to watch you float around the room, smiling up at you when you came back to him with a wet rag to clean him off. 

“Get some sleep, Maxie.” You pressed your lips to the skin just above his bellybutton, then one against his sternum, finally one more pressed to his lips that lingered as long as he allowed it to. To you, aftercare was important to both parties, and since you were the more experienced, you’d have to teach him a thing or two about that. “You’re safe here with me, I promise.” 

Maximus watched you slowly make your way up his body, wrapping his arm back around you to pull you closer to deepen your kisses. Both of you had just exploded and yet he could still probably go again, but the exhaustion of his journey had finally hit him, and he knew he had a lot of ground to cover in the morning. He nestled his head against your bosom and closed his eyes, not used to any sort of cuddling but definitely just wanting to feel your softness as long as he could before everything got hard again. 

You had a fond smile on your face as you looked down at the man in your bed, it wasn’t often that you took a serious liking to any of the men that strolled through the saloon doors, but something about the “I can fix him”-ness of the false knight under your covers was intriguing. You wrapped your arm around him and gently traced your finger over some raised skin between his shoulders, too tired to make out what the shape was. 

You had woken up before him the next morning and had already gotten dressed and ready before deciding to wake him, a plate of biscuits and a cup of badly-made coffee on her side table. Maybe, you hoped, if you made his time really worth it he’d come back to see you again. Maybe as a customer, but you wouldn’t charge him any caps for your services. He’d be your exception, something about a friends discount. 

Maximus opened his eyes slowly when he felt a small hand massaging his back, turning his head to look towards your figure sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Mornin’, honey. You gotta get goin’, I got business to attend to.” You watched as he rolled onto his back and looked up at you fully. Max cracked a smile as he reached over to grab your face, pulling you down but leaning up to meet you halfway and capture your lips in a kiss. 

“I’m going to come back for you, I promise.” He whispered against your lips, thinking back to your conversation the night before about working there until you found a companion to guide you across the vast wasteland. He’d find the knight’s armor and return to prove himself worthy of being a knight by rescuing the fair maiden. 

“I’ll hold you to that, Maxie.” You pulled away from him and gestured to the clothes on the edge of the bed, “Get dressed, there’s a fire escape out my window. My boss will be so mad if she sees you leavin’ this late in the morning.” Maximus redressed himself pretty quick and peeled his head out the window to see the makeshift ladder hanging down the side of the building. He turned back to try and steal one more kiss, but you had already fled the room. 

a/n: ok so I wrote this at work & when I got off work I was exhausted but I neeeeeded to finish it so this went way off the rails, wasn’t expecting myself to do all that, but hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @judgementdays-girl (you requested a max fic after i had already started so here's this :))

gif by @mancandykings

dividers by @cafekitsune

#maximus fallout x reader #maximus fallout x you #maximus fallout imagine #fallout tv imagine #squire maximus #ren writes #fallout tv series #maximus x reader #maximus x you #maximus fallout x oc #maximus fallout

[midnightwriter21]

jjk hcs: their fav pet names for you

characters: reader x gojo, sukuna, fushiguro, itadori, nanami

warnings: language (i be cussing a lot sry), suggestive in gojo’s but not rly

AN: first jjk post!! hope it doesn’t flop lollllll

GOJO

pet names he calls you: sweet thang, sugar, princess, babe, mrs. gojo

now u alrdy knew before even reading that his goofy ass has a million an one pet names for you lol

but anyways

he’s got a MAJORRR sweet tooth hehe

like bro is always snackin on something sugary

hence the pet names sweet thang and sugar

“whatchu doin sweet thang” holding up his blindfold so you can see him wink at u lmfao

but when he calls u sugar i imagine him doin it the way those sweet old southern ladies say it if ykwim lmao

now

princess and babe are much more casual

like he’s calling out “babe i’m home!” when he gets back from a mission

or y’all are at the school and he’s calling for you even tho he 100% alrdy knows exactly where u are bc of ur cursed energy “princesssssssss where are youuuuuu??”

and mrs. gojo is used in either a VERY romantic situation when he’s tryna rizz u up

or

he’s tryna embarrass you in front of the students

there is no in between

“well, me and mrs. gojo gotta head out! she has stuff to do!”

“satoru.. we are not married. my last name isn’t gojo.”

“… yet” 😼

“and what stuff do i have to do?”

“me. i’m stuff.” 😼

*que megumi, yuji, and nobara fake gagging in the background*

SUKUNA

pet names he calls you: my queen, darling

he’s the king of curses so the first one should be self explanatory

cmon every king needs a queen yk

now he’s powerful as hell right

bro demands respect for himself

but let somebody say som to you in the wrong tone

girl rip that person fr

“you dare to speak to my queen that way?” and he’s busting their ass

also that’s how he introduces you to everybody

introduces himself first. and then hits them w the “and this is my queen, (y/n)”

darling is more of a laid back casual pet name

but he uses it all the mf time

“come here, darling”

“you look beautiful as always, darling”

“darling, you are the one that is important to me.”

darling darling darling

FUSHIGURO

pet names he calls you: babe, love, sweetheart

he likes to keep it simple

most of the time he just calls you by your name

def keeps the pet names to a minimum in public

or when he’s around his friends

especially when he’s around gojo lol

i mean cmon the second he calls u a pet name and gojo overhears?

poor thing is being teased til he’s bright red with embarrassment

in private tho?

ur real name almost never leaves his mouth lmfao

it’s “babe can you do this?” “come take a nap with me, love” “what are you doin, sweetheart”

idk i just know he’s soft for u

ITADORI

pet names he calls you: baby, cutie, peaches/peach

this man loves you and isn’t afraid to show it!!

NEVER uses ur real name

EVER

baby and cutie are his casual nicknames ofc

for things he’s sayin to u in passing

he’s hugging u from behind with a “hey cutie”

or when he’s whining abt something lol

“cmon baby you can’t be mad at me forever”

but he uses peach and peaches the most

the man likes ass

he said it himself

it’s canon

so ofc he’s referring to your “big juicy ass” his words not mine when he calls you that lmfaooo

but it also cute asf

“come peach get dressed! i’m taking you to watch a movie with me!”

NANAMI

pet names he calls you: sweetheart, darling, my love, honey

I. LOVE. HIM.

i rly don’t even have any reasoning behind his usage of these pet names they just fit him

he’s such a serious, sophisticated, gentleman

so of course he takes his relationship with you seriously as well

makes sure that you know he adores you

his love language is words of affirmation ik it

gojo jokes that y’all talk to each other like an old married couple

which u do

but it’s cute!!!

it’s the middle of the night and he has to leave for a mission and wake you up on accident?

“sorry, sweetheart, go back to sleep. i’ll be home soon”

he gets home from the mission and as soon as he opens the door he hits you w the cliche

“honey, i’m home!”

this next one is an every day occurrence

and i MEAN EVERYDAY

“good morning, my love” IN HIS DEEP MORNING VOICE meowwww

and y’all go on a date an you get dressed up for it?

“you look absolutely stunning, darling”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu itadori #itadori x reader #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #itadori fluff #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader

[bimbobaggins69]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬.

𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a new life in a seemingly nice town sounds appealing, doesn’t it? But what happens when that nice town has a dark past; and some things you think are real, are just a figment of your imagination…or are they?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: modern setting, small mention of dying, angst, cliffhanger.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this whole idea came about from the books ‘scary stories to tell in the dark’ (which were my fav as a kid), it’s so different from my usual stuff so i hope you enjoy the little switch up (: thank you to my lovely betas @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @stveharringtn <3 totally set this up for a part two with possible smut, maybe? in the wise words of Dolly: ‘give us your ghost cock, Edward!’

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

The red and green leaves crunch under the soles of your mary janes as you walk through forest hills trailer park, your new place of residence. You send a quick message to the group chat that you have with your cousins, who you're on your way to meet at a new bar in town. A slight chill runs through your body when you make it to the rickety bench bus stop that sits desolated in front of the trailer park entrance. 

You had moved to Hawkins a couple months ago on a whim, to be near your cousins who you’ve had a close relationship with since you were a toddler, despite only seeing them once a year or on the occasional social media posts. You had moved with only a year of savings and nothing else to your name. Luckily your aunt had a realtor friend who helped you buy a trailer, which was about the only thing with a cheap enough down payment for you to afford. You found a job at Hawkins middle school as a teacher's aide to Hailey Sinclare who you've become good friends with in the short time span.

The breeze picks up, kicking you out of your reverie and making you wiggle uncomfortably as the old wood digs into your black nylon tights, you lift each thigh to look for any snags in the fabric but before you can fully asses them, you hear footsteps and the loud crunch of leaves moving closer towards you– a gasp leaves your lips as you whip your head around looking for other signs of life. The sun is setting on the horizon and the only thing that surrounds you are the leafless scads of trees from the eerie woods.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.” The voice of a young man utters from behind you, seemingly coming out of nowhere. 

“Oh, um its- its fine.” You murmur as he comes into view, you haven't seen him around but that's not saying much considering you've only moved here two months ago.

His long shoulder length waves sway with the breeze, and his big brown eyes seem to bore into your soul, making you swallow harshly before your head lowers. You begin staring at your black shoes, checking them over for scuffs, as if that was something you actually cared about.

“So where are you headed, lookin’ so pretty?” He asks with a half smirk, all the while placing his jean jacket that is embellished with an array of patches and buttons over the bench. Most of the bands were ones your dad listened to so in turn you grew to love. You were surprised to not find one single patch or button of a more modern band, but figured he must love the old stuff, that’s respectable. 

“I’m meeting my cousins at some bar in town.” You say with a gesture of your hand in the wrong direction, not yet accustomed to where town is or where the leaving hawkins sign sits, which happens to be in opposite directions. 

He smirks as if he realizes you don't belong here, and a feeling of embarrassment heats your soft cheeks. 

“Sounds fun.” Is all he says as he kicks at some rocks and leaves with his dirty reeboks. 

“Where are you headed?” You ask, feeling a pull to keep the conversations going with this stranger. 

“Oh ya know? Wherever.” Is all he divulges with a shrug of his shoulders, you nod in faux understanding, even if a million questions begin to rack your brain. Maybe he wants to appear mysterious, he wouldn't be the first guy to try that out on you.

He pulls a cigarette from behind his ear and fishes a lighter out of his pocket, lighting the tobacco stick before offering it to you. You decline, a part of you is surprised he doesn't vape like the majority of today’s youth. The smell brings a sense of nostalgia to you, remembering the times you’d climb into your grandpa's lap when you were a kid while he smoked his cigarettes and drank his coffee. 

“What's your name?” He asks as his eyes continue to graze over you. 

You tell him, but find yourself unable to meet his eyes. Something about his big chocolate orbs make goosebumps travel along your already chilled skin.

“And yours?” You question with a tremulous edge. 

“Eddie.” He answers before flicking the half smoked cigarette into the overgrown grass, beneath your feet.

“You live here, Eddie?” You ask curiously. 

“Sure do, lot 15, been here almost all my life.” He hums, before a vibration in your back pocket startles you out of your stupor.

You quickly pull it out, smiling at the text message your cousin Bella sent you. 

“Whoa…what is that?” The boy you now know as Eddie, says with an astonished lilt. 

“What’s what?” You shriek as if he was gonna point out some type of bug species that had somehow found its way into your hair or on your body.

“That thing in your hands.” He says pointedly.

“Oh, uh this is my phone?” You can't help the questioning tone that slips past your lips. 

“Phone? Like you can call people on that?” He still sounds astonished as if he's never seen an iphone before, which living in this century is close to impossible; unless he was amish but from the look of him, you found that highly unlikely. 

Before you could answer his unusual question, the loud brakes of a bus pulls up alongside the bench. Eddie quickly stands, throwing you one more questioning look before he begins walking towards the open doors. 

“Well, see ya around sweetheart.” He announces, before throwing you a wink and stepping up onto the platform of the bus that was headed in the opposite direction in which you needed to go. 

“See ya.” You murmur back with a smile. 

The wind picks up as the bus begins to drive off, leaving you to cross your arms over your exposed chest. Something out of your peripheral captures your attention, and you quickly realize Eddie had left his vest thrown over the bench. You yank it off and stand up, ready to run towards the bus to retrieve it. But the bus’s tail lights can now barely be made out in the fog, too far for you to catch up with on foot. You huff and throw the vest over your frame, the added layer brings a desired warmth to your body. You sit back down, the bench squeaks underneath you as the sun begins settling deeper over Hawkins, bringing with it an unsettling feeling to your gut.

The bus pulled up ten minutes after Eddie had left. You made it to the bar to meet your cousins an hour late but had a great time with them nonetheless. Drinks and shots were passed around, you had danced your ass off having the time of your life, something that hasn't happened in what feels like forever. 

Being closer to the city, you were able to take an uber back home all the while Eddie’s vest continued to adorn your figure. His brown eyes, ringed fingers and boyish smile stayed in the back of your mind the entire night, and a part of you couldn’t wait to return it to him. 

You wake up the next morning on a mission, drinking your cup of joe and eating your avocado toast, before you shower and slip on a pretty flowy dress with your platform doc martens, hair styled and light makeup applied. 

You realize as you walk the trailer park with his vest in hand, that he lives on the other side of you. Lot 15 comes into view and you see an old red truck that looks like it hasn’t been driven in years, parked next to a new silver prius. The steps are falling apart and the couch sitting on the porch sags, with stains and cigarette burns. 

You knock on the dingy front door, before you bring your slumped shoulders up while pushing your chest out in an attempt to look more confident, even as your heart thumps behind your rib cage.

A middle aged woman answers the door with a small smile—

“Hello, can I help you with something?” She asks sweetly. 

The beep of a machine captures your attention and you find yourself looking past the ladies shoulder into the living room, where an older man is lying in a hospital bed, sitting in front of an old television set that's playing cowboy westerns.

“Yeah, um Is Eddie here?” You ask timidly.

“I’m sorry, who?” The woman's eyes are wide as she looks you over, eyes almost as big as saucers when she notices the vest in your arms.

“Eddie; long hair, brown eyes, rings on his fingers, owns this vest.” You say as you lift the gramnet closer towards her, revealing the big dio patch that’s sewn on in the back, 

“I’m sorry, is this some kind of joke?” She says with a bewildered expression.

“A joke? Why would this be a joke? Is Eddie here or not?” You slightly snap as your patience begins to wear thin.

“Sweetheart, Eddie Munson died in an earthquake thirty seven years ago.”

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine

[saeist]

itoshi brothers reaction to their little sister wearing a different jersey and supporting someone else 😭

anon ur mind… should i make this into a series 😭 100 milestone special

can you imagine the reaction of both brothers when they see you lounging around the house with a jersey that’s not from their respective teams?

sae never misses the chance to give you a jersey from his matches. he always makes sures to get two of the same jerseys no matter what. sae would never admit this though. when he gives you his jerseys, he just tells you it’s an old one but it’s a lie. he has his own sitting in his luggage, gym bag, you name it, it’s there. he personally got one for you cause you were his sister after all

rin on the other hand is the same but he only gives you hand me downs such as the blue lock one. if rin grows out of a jersey, you bet that said jersey will end up in your hands

so just imagine the look on their faces when you’re lounging at the couch, wearing a jersey from a team they’re not even in on.

sae is visibly pissed. you can tell by the way his eyes are more narrowed than usual and has his infamous bitch face on that he only makes when there were press around him.

rin is not as pissed like sae but he’s just wondering who owns that jersey. he only gets mad when he tries to connect the dots or something and ended up assuming isagi or someone from blue lock gave it to you behind his back (he already had a talk with his blue lock mates that they should not breathe, touch, or be even in the vicinity as you when you’re around or they’re gonna get “it” from him)

both brothers sit at each side of you and you can tell the atmosphere in the living room has shifted. i mean, it’s not like you’re used to it at this point but, what gives bros?

sae scans you from the bottom to the top with a face you can’t quite pinpoint. was he mad? was he disgusted? what’s he thinking? you can’t tell. you turn your head to rin for some help but he had the same face on.

was there something on your face?

“if you guys are just gonna be breathing heavily next to me and not say a word then i’m just gonna leave” you raise a brow at your two (idiotic) brothers. to which they only reply with them clicking their tongues and some grumbles under their breaths.

sae was the first one to break the ice

“who’s jersey is that?” sae frowns. like a deep frown. was this mf really THAT petty over a jersey?

you looked down at the shirt you were wearing and it was from bastard münchen.

“oh, it’s bastard münchen merch. this is kaiser’s jersey if i’m not mistaken” you explain, even turning around to show sae the number on your back. when you return back to your original position, sae looked like you just dropped the biggest bomb on him and he didn’t like it one bit. he instantly gets all over your face, basically interrogating you on why you would waste the hard earned money he gave you to buy another jersey that isn’t from real madrid (hc that he gives you allowance 😋)

“why the fuck would you even buy from bastard münchen? is real madrid’s merchandise not enough? is the quality shit? hold on, i’m gonna have to tell the managers about this. just why y/n. WHY”

sae almost goes into a complete mental breakdown. over you wearing some team’s merch instead of his own team, real madrid

“and it had to be kaiser’s number too”

“what’s so bad with kaiser?”

sae doesn’t answer directly but continues to bitch about kaiser and bastard münchen specifically. mumbling about something you can’t quite understand

you look at your other brother, rin. just to like check if you two were looking at the same thing, sae literally pacing around the living room with his arms crossed and his hands rolled up into a fists but all you see is rin concentrating really hard that was outright sweating and you can see prominent veins on the sides of his head

“that damn isagi…” you hear rin murmur beside you. oh hell nah, not rin too.

“rin-nii..?”

“have you been talking to isagi? how do you even know about bastard münchen? does this mean you’ve been talking to isagi behind my back? why didn’t you buy pxg’s instead?”

another set of questions (more like interrogation) comes rolling in.

at this point you are already feeling like you’re going insane with your brothers acting like it was the end of the world.

“guys.. i literally watch blue lock tv. of course i fucking know about bastard münchen!” you curse

both brothers stop their idiocy and both turn to you with stern faces, together they go,

“NO FUCKING CURSING”

#theyre so dumb… i love the itoshis #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock scenarios #bllk scenarios #rin imagines #sae imagines #sae itoshi imagines #rin itoshi imagines #itoshi brothers #ads’ 100 milestone #from: unknown sender #you have (1) new message! #oib lore

[manicpixiefelix]

baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

2/2: think about me while you do it [SMUT]

{ masterpost : 2/2 }

Summary: In which Oliver puts you in your place, and makes you beg to be there.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (M receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, dehumanising language and overall incredibly degrading talk, BDSM, leashes, dacryphilia(crying), reader being treated like a dog, bondage & restraints, creampie, so much begging, sir kink, oliver having the time of his life as a manipulative dom, pet name used for the reader "princess" and being referred to as "good girl"

A/N: 7434 words. never ever as long as i live will i ever write this pairing (farleigh/brat!reader/oliver) again, and not only can you quote me on that, but you can take it to the fucking bank. that being said, i did genuinely LOVE writing this, i think they're dynamic is so incredibly fun to explore, and honestly there's something hot about the mind games they all play on each other. it's just that it takes FUCKING FOREVER for them to do anything because they all hate each other. well, you and farleigh hate oliver and he hates both of you, but you also like to cause problems on purpose which pisses them both off. i love it. i never want to write them again. 10/10 LETS GET WEIRD WITH IT i would love to know what you guys think about this all :) oh also we definitely get heavy on the farleigh/oliver in this as well

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Farleigh has always had these long, delicate fingers that Oliver's been fascinated by since they'd met, since he'd grabbed his thigh - so achingly briefly - in their tutor's office and levelled a grin that surely read as apologetic to the professor for running late, but turned so immediately dismissive the minute his gaze flicked to Oliver himself. For so long as Oliver wormed his way into Felix's life, into his circle of friends, that's all Farleigh had been; dismissive looks and long, enticing fingers poised with cigarettes and disdain like he was a model for Marlboro.

But the coldness in Farleigh's eyes turned warmer, especially over the Summer at Saltburn, and Oliver couldn't deny the heat of his frustration didn't have some kind of want pitting in his stomach. Anger and lust have never truly been strangers, at least not if he was judging by the way Farleigh had been looking at him tonight.

Now, Farleigh was looking at you with that heat in his eyes, looking at your parted lips and breathless smile like he wanted to devour you whole after so readily giving in to Oliver's degradation. Then he's watching the gentle way Oliver caresses your face in the moments that follow, and that heat too turns degrading.

"You really have no self respect," he scoffs; the mood shifts sharply to the left. There's that look in your eyes again like you're on the verge of causing more trouble.

"He said I had no manners!" You protested as Farleigh moved back from you, "my etiquette teacher would be rolling in her grave if she heard that!"

"Etiquette teachers aren't a real thing, are they?" Oliver, genuinely baffled enough to be pulled out of his earlier mood, automatically shuffles back as Farleigh gently pushes you over. You land on your stomach with a humph, hands still trapped at the small of your back, though now Oliver can see the skilled, tight way his belt was binding them. It conjures up images of expensive leather contraptions, restraints, and you on display, desperate for a hungry-eyed academic like Farleigh who'd actually put in the work to study how to best tame a beast like you.

"Do you think she ever stops to think why we call her a princess?" Farleigh scoffs in a brief moment of solidarity as he reclines on the bed. Oliver actually, genuinely laughs at that, much to your chagrin, at least until Farleigh's hand, those beautiful fingers, pushing down the waistband of his own boxers to finally give his cock some sorely needed attention. "Don't think your manners are the most scandalous thing you've been a part of tonight," he adds, turning his head to you with a deliciously sly smile, "your etiquette teacher know you beg like that?"

Oliver had caught sight of the way you were pouting, legs kicking ineffectually against the end of the bed considering how you were trapped in your position, like a little worm. You turned your head to face Farleigh with that same sulky expression, like all three of you didn't know exactly what he was talking about.

"My arms hurt," is all the response you give.

"Good," Oliver hadn't meant to say that out loud, nor had he entirely realised how fucking pleased he'd sounded as he'd said it, but it had seemingly escaped him nonetheless. His focus had been caught on the lazy rhythm Farleigh had been using to keep himself hard, but he still found himself enjoying the sound of your complaints, it seemed.

And your reactions to him; the way your fingers curled, the shiver he could see run down the length of your spine, and how quickly you had to press your face into the mattress, most likely embarrassed by whatever Farleigh would have seen in your expression. It seemed Farleigh himself wasn't even immune, cock momentarily twitching in his hand before Oliver realised how long he'd been staring, and that Farleigh's bright yet smug expression had meant he'd definitely noticed.

"You are taking to this remarkably fast," Farleigh sounds almost pleased, almost proud. You tell him to shut the fuck up, face still pressed against the duvet, but can't kick anyone from this angle, much to his ongoing amusement.

Surfacing, but still rather flustered, you announce sharply that you're not touching either of them until you can use your hands again. Oliver remarks that that's the point, and there's a part of him that's far too pleased about how it makes Farleigh laugh too. Of course this sets you off - he should have known - but it's easy enough for Oliver, sitting on his knees beside you on the bed, to keep you from sitting up too far once you've managed to roll over onto your back.

He knows he's different in this light, leaning over you, everything awash with the blue and silver of the night. For just a moment, it's as if you know you're helpless, his hand flat and warm on your chest, on your sternum, and you can see it in his eyes that he thinks you're helpless beneath him too. The chain around his neck hangs like the sword of Damocles above your own throat, and with the blue, searching, hungry eyes of a man who remembers every last cruel remark you'd tossed at him in the past week.

"Can I at least get some water?" You break the moment, and Oliver almost has to laugh, "it's not funny, I'm thirsty and for some reason," you pointedly rolled your eyes, words dripping with sarcasm, attempting to regain some of the composure you liked to carry yourself with, "I can't move my arms."

"Of course, your highness," Oliver briefly acquiesces, lips twitching into a smile as he made his way to the adjoining bathroom, hoping their was some kind of cup in their. Re-joining the room, he finds Farleigh to be amused, and you to still be on your back, annoyed -

"- not kidding, I'm not doing anything with either of you if you don't take this belt off of my damn hands," you were still insisting. Farleigh just grinned.

"Yeah, Miss Green-Light-Princess, we'll see about that."

Considering how your expression scrunched up to something almost flustered, and you didn't have any kind of comeback, it was safe to say you were still on board, just as Farleigh was delighted to call you out on it. Oliver reintegrates himself, sits himself on the edge of the bed and wears a little smile even as you call him your hero with more bitter sarcasm than he's ever heard from anyone in his life.

"Sit up," so gentle, so opposite of the ways he's been speaking to you just before he'd left; Farleigh is regarding him curiously, but you just roll your eyes. Now that Oliver knew inside and out - pun entirely intended - you were deliciously predictable. Easy to lull into a false sense of superiority.

"I can't."

"Roll over," the sweetness is quickly disappearing. For a brief moment, Farleigh's gaze meet's Oliver's, and he knows exactly what Oliver's doing, even if you haven't clued in. There's a spark of devilish glee that they share in this moment, but Oliver can't let it show on his face.

"What?"

"Roll over, I'll help," Oliver's smile doesn't reach his eyes, but you dubiously agree. Perhaps you think he'll undo the restraints around your wrists. Of course he won't, you should know better than that.

With you obediently on your stomach, Oliver puts the water on the nightstand. One hand goes to your shoulder, the other holds your shoulder.

"Now princess," he murmurs low in your ear, tone oozing condescension, "sit," like ordering a dog when he pulls you upright; you don't even fully notice at first, the pressure from the angle that he pulls your arms makes them ache once more, but then you're sitting up on your knees, and Oliver's lips are inches from yours, leaning into your space with intent, "stay," and you go quiet.

There is fury when he looks in your eyes; your jaw twitches as you bite down on a hundred different retorts. There's something intoxicating about you, the way everything you do in these moments is a war between your cruel nature and your hedonistic desires. You want to kick him, you want him to spit in your mouth, you want to ruin him, you want him to ruin you. All of it is written in your eyes.

You have spent all week treating Oliver Quick like nothing more than a dog; you hate that it turns you on when he returns the favour.

Farleigh is eating this interaction up, watching like a hunter who lay in wait for his prey, content with how Oliver so skilfully toyed with you -

"There's a leash in the bottom draw of the night stand -"

"Farleigh Start, I'm going to kill you with my bare hands when I get them back," you hissed, but Farleigh's comment had piqued Oliver's curiosity. Before you could even look back to give Farleigh a withering glare, Oliver's hand found your throat. Thumb and fingers against your delicate pulse points, not yet cutting off the blood flow, but right where they needed to be.

Ironically it's Farleigh's voice in the back of his mind, a night out at the pub where it had just been mostly guys, and somehow the topic of their sex lives came up. It had been Farleigh who had rolled his eyes and explained - it's here, idiot - reaching over to demonstrate on Felix himself - it's cutting off the blood flow that makes their head spin, not actually choking them to death. Gorgeous fingers momentarily placed on his cousin's throat, Oliver had memorised the placement. Considering what he now knew of Farleigh's relationship with you, he didn't need to guess why he was so sure back in the pub.

"Didn't say speak."

"I'd kick you if I could," your lip curled, even as his grip on your throat tightened. That fire in your eyes was betrayed by the way your heartbeat practically danced beneath his fingertips, "give me my water, I wasn't kidding about that."

There's a long, tense moment where Oliver deliberates. Then, very slowly, he lets you go, and turns, reaching over to the night stand. Out of the corner of his eye there's a very sudden flurry of movement, and of Farleigh moving unexpectedly fast. The water actually shakes with it, spills and splashes several drops onto his thighs, cold in the humid room, before he turns to see the tableaux of attempted rebellion. Farleigh looks still amused, but rather exasperated, like he expected as much, expected to have his hand in your mouth, your teeth in his palm, other hand digging nails into your shoulder as he attempted to hold you back.

"It's like you forgot, Ollie," Farleigh says with a mean little smile, "my dog's the kind that bites," still he plays along, the words coming out lazily despite how he seems to actually have to work to pull his hand from your mouth. Your anger at being thwarted seemed to simmer just beneath your skin; this smile you now wear is laced with malice that hadn't been there before.

"Just having some fun," you practically spat, with both of Farleigh's hands now on your shoulders, holding you in place. This malevolence is it's own kind of fun; your desire to hurt, to wound, to sink your teeth in like a cornered animal betrays you to Oliver. Your pride is starting to win over your desire; your capacity for cruelty is overcoming your desire to be put in your place. Perhaps it was getting to real, perhaps you remembered how much better you supposed you were than Oliver himself. This is exactly how he wants you.

Princess. Collared.

Taking a deep, deliberate breath, Oliver levels a flat, unimpressed look at you. Both you and Farleigh are waiting, watching, letting him lead in this moment, and he does. Water in one hand, he carefully reaches down to the bottom drawer of the nightstand - when you move, the bed moves with you, but Farleigh's grip on you never yields, never lets you lunge at Oliver the way you keep trying. The collar is sleep and simple, padded on the inside, with a leash to match. It even has a little bell, and an engraved tag.

Bitch.

Oliver chuckles a laugh as he reads it, he can't help himself.

"Farleigh thinks he's very funny," you roll your eyes, knowing exactly what Oliver had found so amusing. Farleigh does look particularly pleased with himself over your shoulder.

"It was true when I got it engraved and it's still true now."

But Oliver's moving on again, asking Farleigh to hold the glass of water for him as he fiddles with the collar. He is quiet, intense, arms around your neck as he takes his time doing up the collar; his face is so close to yours, sharing your furious, shaking breathes.

"How is our princess feeling?" Oliver takes the moment to check in, genuine, though it seems to irritate you further, "green light?"

"Do not flatter yourself into thinking I am yet speechless," you spit, "if I truly thought you offered me nothing, and wanted nothing more from you, I am more than capable of making that abundantly clear." You were endlessly fascinating to Oliver; you wanted to maim him, but you wanted him nonetheless. He tightens the collar around your neck. Farleigh still has one hand on your shoulder; his thumb comes to press against the edge of the collar, against your skin meeting the leather as he makes a pleased hum. "Green fucking light, scholarship boy," you give a mocking little smile to Oliver, the bitterness never leaving your eyes.

"Good -" the moment Oliver has latched the collar, has the leash curled at the back of your neck around his fist, you strain forward against it. The bell rings with the movement, a delicate sound for an indelicate moment -

"But I am warning you," forehead pressed against Oliver's, you're straining for any inch, any millimetre more you could get from his unyielding grip on your leash, you practically snarl against his lips with venomous hatred, "about what you will get when you treat me like a dog." Yet Oliver makes sure to remain impassive, perhaps even a little amused, in the face of your threats.

"If I can't make you bark like a good girl, princess," Oliver murmurs, catching your lips in a kiss even as you try to bite him, pulling back with a cold smile, "then I'm going to make you beg."

"Are you going to be a good girl?" Farleigh's voice purrs in your ear, and some of the viciousness about you eases. You sit back, back out of Oliver's space, and watch as Farleigh hands the water back to Oliver's waiting hands, trading him for the leash.

"For you," there's contempt in your eyes as you watch Oliver while addressing Farleigh, "I'll think about it."

Oliver's gaze meet's Farleigh's as he presses his laughter to your shoulder; something in his eyes almost says, well, good luck, I tried. Like Oliver isn't revelling in this chance you've laid before him; like he doesn't know how quickly your body betrays you at every single opportunity.

"If you want some water, you have to ask nicely," Oliver offers. A pause follows, and he watches you change tact.

You relax, letting the fight leave you, pressing yourself back against Farleigh as much as you could. Feeling his face so close to yours you turn, practically nuzzling against him.

"Even if I'm nice, he's going to be mean about it," your voice comes out so sweetly, so transparently manipulatively, "I just want a drink of water, you wouldn't make me beg for a drink of water, Farleigh," you insist, voice plaintive, all doe-eyed and pouting and not looking at Oliver.

"I can and I have and you didn't complain this much," Farleigh saw fit to remind you, giving a wide, mean smile. Your lip began to quiver.

"You're not even fucking me and I'm going to cry," you tried whimpering.

"Funny how none of those sound like any of those safe words," Oliver points out. Your lip stops quivering, in fact, you glare at him out of the corner of your eye as you pout, still trying to be soft and gentle with Farleigh.

"That's because they're not," Farleigh says far too knowingly, far too smugly, muttering into your ear once more, though loud enough for Oliver to clearly hear how sharp and praising it is, "and aren't you pretty when you cry."

"Can't cry if I'm dehydrated," you huff, and finally Farleigh, with a roll of his eyes, gives in with a sigh.

"Give her the water."

You immediately perk up, looking far too pleased to be getting your way, and lean forward expectantly. Oliver will give you this - and only this - before he drags every bit of satisfaction out of you that he wants. So he is careful, doesn't let the water spill, lets you breathe between mouthfuls when you indicate.

"All of it; it's good for you," still he tells you, tone like a teacher, cup insistent at your lips.

"Yes sir," you managed sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you drank more of the water, but something snapped, rewired in Oliver's brain. Farleigh could see it too.

"Oh he liked that," he commented, eyes alight with intrigue, and you frowned as you indicated for Oliver to lower the cup.

"I'm not saying it again."

"The optimism you have about what you will and won't do tonight is adorable," Farleigh tells you, planting a teasing kiss on your cheek, while you tell him to piss off.

"Give me the last of my water, you fuck," you finally manage, and Farleigh finally feels like he can lay himself back down, cackling at your audacity in the face of everything that had just happened. He also drops the leash, at least confident in either Oliver, or his own reflexes, for the time being, "do you want me to drink it all or not? Pick a lane."

Oliver, glass in one hand, reaches between your legs with the other. Immediately, you close your eyes, breath catching, knowing exactly what he was playing at.

"Is that how you think you're going to get fucked tonight?" No response; Oliver's thumb begins moving on your clit, pressing insistent circles as your breathing grows deeper, "are you going to be a good girl?"

"I'm not going to bark for you," you manage through gritted teeth, though after a moment, you half stutter out a moan, "please can you let me finish my water?" Two fingers slide teasingly down your slit, "please, Oliver -" you swallow hard, eyes opening to meet his; he can see this almost pains you, "please Oliver Quick, can I have the last of my water?" Those two fingers inside of you, curling, teasing, pulling a groan from you, eyes fluttering closed, and your voice barely above a whisper, "may I finish my water, sir?"

Oh yes, he did like hearing that from you.

"Of course," Oliver sits back, pleased, licking his fingers clean like a pleased cat while assisting you with finishing off the glass of water. You can't meet his gaze, already embarrassed by how quickly you'd given in. He watches your tongue dart out across your lips, collecting the few drops that had strayed, clinging to the edges of your lips. Beautiful mouth, he's sure he can put it to good use.

"All better, princess?" Farleigh snarks from behind you. Oliver thinks he can see you bite back on a harsh retort, and once again watches you change tact. Shifting away from him, half turning so you were now perpendicular to Farleigh and able to properly look at him, you wriggled your legs out from under you, perhaps a little more comfortable to your side, like a Victorian woman on a fainting sofa, it's an unassumingly sweet pose for the situation. Though it clearly matched the energy you were trying to give off.

"Yes, Farleigh, thank you, Farleigh," without even sparing Oliver a single glance. For a long moment, Farleigh's gaze slides from your innocent act to Oliver, looking unamused and still holding the empty glass. A strange moment of understanding passes between them the minute Farleigh sees Oliver's gaze snap to the leash down your back. So he sits, leans in close to you, and takes your face in one hand. It's clear you're leaning in to this perceived moment of tenderness, but Farleigh stops, a breath from your lips.

"You fucking bit my hand," his voice ice cold, you see there's no humour in his eyes as you pull back and try to stammer out something, anything, genuinely caught off guard, "so thanks won't cut it, princess; you can start with an apology."

"I -" you begin to frown, but then the bed dips behind you, and Oliver's cool hand is grasping at the leash, pulling gently.

"Didn't say speak," he warned, and didn't even give you a moment to butt in before continuing, "show Farleigh you're sorry."

Farleigh, clearly delighted by this turn of events, sits himself up, shuffling back to lean comfortably against the headboard. This confidence becomes him, legs spread in invitation, generous cock resting hard and wanting against the smooth plane of his stomach. For several long moments, Oliver watches Farleigh lazily stroke himself, simply watching you and Oliver through a smug, half-lidded gaze.

"You should see yourselves," the teasing barely hides how his voice is dripping with want. Unsurprisingly, you try to play it off, becoming flustered at the implication of you staring, of how much you knew you wanted him. But Oliver meets Farleigh's gaze, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Farleigh's smile widens.

"Aren't you lucky?" Oliver murmurs into your ear, grip on your leash tight as he keeps his eyes locked with Farleigh's. Though you've gone quiet, Oliver's unsatisfied with your lack of proper response, and gives a pointed yank on your collar.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'm lucky," you sighed faintly, "sir." Farleigh snorts a laugh, and Oliver grins, shuffling himself to sit on Farleigh's other side, by his hip, and looks expectantly at you before giving your leash a tug. At least you seem to be getting into this, considering you actually perk up, scrambling as best you could to sit yourself between Farleigh's legs.

There's something about the gleeful little grin that you give Farleigh in this moment that give away how much genuine joy and anticipation you have to have your mouth on his cock. He too seems at home in this moment, settling back against the headboard with his hands behind his head. It's almost cute, your eagerness, the way you lean down in anticipation before.

"Can I have my hands back now?"

Farleigh goes to sit up, goes to say something, as if he'd realised you'd probably need your hands for the act, but Oliver cuts him off before he can.

"No." And it's too firm for him to argue with. When you look at Oliver this time, there's something there that wasn't before. A moment of genuine doubt, a moment of genuine submission.

"Sir, I think I need my hands for this," instead of argumentative, it's almost pleading. This is the moment he knows he's starting to win. Oliver tips his head to the side, as if regarding you curiously.

"Do you?" He can see the doubt in your eyes grow; it's driving him mad the way he's holding himself back, but good things take time.

"I think so," you don't sound sure.

Oliver moves slowly, deliberately, and makes sure you're following his movements. Farleigh's cock twitches in Oliver's cool hand, but all Farleigh does is let out a low, pleased hum. He starts simply, thumb gliding over his slit, collecting the precum that had been beading there, hand then moving up and down in even strokes. For a moment, he chances a glance at Farleigh, only to see his head lolling back against the bedframe, pleased smile on his lips.

When an actual whimper escapes you, and Oliver feels you tug on your leash in his other hand, he remembers his task at hand. There's lust in your eyes as you wriggle, thigh clenching and rubbing together at the sight of Oliver working Farleigh's cock. This might be far easier than he thought.

"You want this?" Just like a pet owner with their clearly eager dog, Oliver teases you.

"Yes," your practically bark, breathless and eager and embarrassingly fast. It actually seems to catch both Oliver and Farleigh off guard, Farleigh's cock clearly reacting positively in Oliver's hand to your obvious desire, and Oliver giving Farleigh a genuinely impressed look.

"Never seen someone so eager to get their mouth around a cock before; you must've done something special to her."

"Do you want me to teach you or do you want me to show you?" Farleigh's eyes shine as brightly as his smile in the silver-blue glow of the night. Oliver's mouth goes dry at the thought, his own cock aching at the mere thought of what it would be like to look up at Farleigh with his smug approval - knew you could be boy for me, Oliver - and he wants to hate the idea, but he can't. But he doesn't get the chance to respond -

"No, mine," slips from you like a whine, unexpectedly possessive. It brings both boys' attention back on you, however, and you seem to realise your slip up. Mouth opening and closing, you can't even seem to find the words to defend yourself; at least you've learned to shut up.

"Careful princess," Farleigh says surprisingly coldly, slipping back into dominance with practiced ease, "you're lucky, remember?"

"I'm lucky," you nod emphatically, but you're straining against your leash, wetting your lips.

"Good girls get treats," he yanks your collar back to remind you who still holds your leash, "this a treat for you, princess?"

"I do genuinely enjoy it," you admit honestly, seeming a little flustered to be saying as much, looking to Oliver with a sheepish smile, "not with anyone else though," it's actually a very sweet moment.

"Really?" Farleigh seems genuinely flattered, wide, bashful smile on his face as he sits forward a little.

"You seriously don't understand how hot the noises you make are," you laughed a little self consciously, "I came completely untouched once just from going down on you."

"Are we here to stroke Farleigh's ego or his cock?" Oliver rolled his eyes, already tired of this, but Farleigh sat back obliging, while you tried to bend down, but very much couldn't.

"Pick a lane, Oliver," you groaned, before quickly amending, apologetically, "sir." Farleigh snickered. Oliver's gaze grew cold.

"Beg for it."

He pushes his hand between your shoulder blades, forcing you to double over and bend down, but then kept his grip on your leash tight as he held the shiny, plump head of Farleigh's cock just inches from your lips.

"Please," already you were back to playing along, mouth open, breathing heavy, whimpering as you hear an impatient moan from Farleigh himself, "please, sir please -"

"Please what?"

Mouth hanging open, panting like a desperate whore, you beg for Farleigh's cock in your mouth, your throat, to be facefucked and used, whatever - you felt like you were going insane from the suspense. All the words come spilling out from you, begging and dripping with need that Oliver almost gives in right there.

Oliver's hand has been skilfully fisted around Farleigh's cock this entire time, keeping him hard and ready and in the perfect spot to drive you made, just out of your reach. He'd half forgotten he was even doing it, getting him all worked up, leaking, slick, fingers shiny and sticky with Farleigh -

"Oliver -" Farleigh chokes out in a kind of warning tone, as if to tell him to stop playing around one way or the other.

"You think you deserve this?" Oliver finally lets Farleigh's cock go, and you actually whimper. Oliver wipes his hand off messily against your mouth, once more demanding to know if you think you deserve this. You're begging, please tumbling from your lips even as Oliver presses two fingers into your greedy mouth.

"Please, sir," muffled so much that it's almost indistinguishable as your thorough tongue laps at Oliver's fingers, "please, I need him," and the desperate tears are welling in your eyes as he keeps his fingers in your mouth but pushes you back up onto your knees.

"Will you sit for me if I give you what you want?" He pulls his fingers slowly from your mouth. You nod, heartbeat alive when he wraps a firm hand around your throat, "will you stay for me if I give you what you want?" Another nod, lip trembling and breathing so desperately hard. He applies more pressure.

"Anything," you gasp, hips moving again, insistent, desperate for friction; he'd see to that soon, "speak, shake," you wet your lips, "roll over."

Oliver glances over his shoulder to where Farleigh is watching with rapt attention. Good.

"Good dog," Farleigh mumbles, desperately working his own hand up and down his shaft.

Oliver lets go of the leash carefully, and your eyes snap back to him. Just as you promised, you sit, you stay, a good dog, watching him move closer to Farleigh with intent. He hears your breath catch the moment he takes Farleigh's cock in hand, and the desperate chanting of 'pleasepleaseplease' as he lowers himself down. For a moment, he looks to Farleigh, a silent question of permission, but considering he too can hear how desperate and needy you're behaving at the mere sight of this, he realises, at least in part, what Oliver's doing and seems entirely on board.

You were right, Farleigh moans and whimpers like a whore with a mouth on his cock. A wanton melody made all the sweeter for your begging having turned simply to needy noises. What Oliver can't fit of Farleigh in his mouth he continues to jerk off, momentarily slipping down to gently squeeze Farleigh's balls, earning him the most beautiful series of swears Oliver's ever heard. Tongue always moving, caressing, often lapping at Farleigh's slit and the sweet, salty slickness, Oliver works hard to make him feel good - which he knows he's more than capable of, despite his demeanour he's nothing near a virgin in any realm - without getting him to close. He'd still leave that for you.

For a moment he glances up at Farleigh, and the bitterness in his eyes at the edge of the obvious lust, like he resents Oliver for being so good at this, makes it all worth it.

I got you here, Farleigh, Oliver thinks with bitter triumph, everything else is sloppy fucking seconds.

When he pulls away, he makes sure there's a distinctive, lewd slurp before he takes a deep breath.

Looking to you, the fight is back in your eyes, but it doesn't fucking matter; Oliver won. He pulls you in for a rough kiss -

"I hate you," you snarl at him through your intensely frustrated pout, even as his hand grabs your jaw, "interloping little slut, where the fuck do you get off -?" But the minute he pushes his tongue into your mouth you still try to press yourself against him, to kiss him harder, taste all of Farleigh in him that you could. You know you're sloppy fucking seconds to him, and you hate him for it.

"I was thinking it was going to be in you," Oliver says blithely as he pulls away from the kiss. In the back of his mind he knows it's a loaded statement - ha - but he hasn't forgotten the colours if this was a bridge too far -

"Fucking finally you have some common sense," you sneer, as if you weren't still on the verge of tears, "I was going to say that if you ruined my sheets I was going to have you arrested."

"No you weren't," pipes up Farleigh with an eyeroll. Immediately embarrassed you tell him to shut up, "no, I don't think I will; I'm beginning to think you guys are a bunch of fucking teases -"

Oliver gives him a thin smile, handing over the leash, having gotten all the permission he needed.

"Are you going to be good for Farleigh?" He whispered low in your ear, "didn't you want this?"

"Weren't you just begging for it?" Farleigh smirked down at you, lust-filled approval in his voice, "come on, baby," he murmurs as he takes your face in his hands, and immediately you're his, "crying for me?" The teasing starts warm, but as he's wiping the first of the tears from your cheeks, as you're nodding with embarrassment, his teasing turns mean and sharp and smug, "crying like a desperate, little cockwhore," he doesn't even time to let you react before he's giving your cheeks a gentle squeeze; "open up," he orders in that same cruel, loving, smug tone that makes Oliver's hairs stand up on the back of his neck. But you seem to react with relief the moment you have your mouth around him.

There's something that even Oliver finds entrancing about Farleigh in this moment. He'd been leading you both for so long that he'd forgotten where it had all started, the way Farleigh had spoken so early on, and how even in your most vicious or playful, part of you would always refer back to him. Part of Farleigh had earned your respect, and in the end, he had been the only one in the house who made the princess feel like her place was on her knees.

"Now your little power trip is over," Farleigh's voice cuts through Oliver's thoughts like a fucking knife, as always, painful and clean and precise, "do you need my permission to -" but Oliver's done with his bullshit tonight too.

"Shut it Farleigh," he rolls his eyes and starts to move once more. Time he focuses on your bound hands, finally deciding that you'd probably had enough, or at least were willing enough to listen to either Oliver or Farleigh in a way that mattered.

"Oh my god, freedom!" You immediately announced, sitting up to throw your hands in the air with a genuinely delightful glee.

"You see what you've done," Farleigh looked over your shoulder to Oliver, tossing his belt to the side, but you were already using your freedom to crawl up to meet him. Oliver's surprised by how genuine and affectionate you are when you tell him to be quiet for a moment. With one hand still working on him, the other being used to brace yourself up, you kiss Farleigh gently. What surprises Oliver even further is the momentary look of actual love in Farleigh's eyes as he cups your jaw and kisses you back.

Then you're moving back, making sure to let them both know that you weren't kidding about how much you enjoyed going down on Farleigh. However you do give pause, looking at Oliver through narrowed eyes for a long minute where he's sitting by your knees, watching the exchange, not quite sure where he was meant to go from here.

Your foot lashes out at him. Hard. It's unexpected. Somehow, so is the second kick that follows immediately after. The third he anticipates, but by that stage you'd shunted him to the edge of the bed, and though he tries to catch your leg he falls off, unsuccessful.

"What kind of problem do you have?" Oliver is scowling from the floor, his shoulder and hip sore from the fall, while Farleigh is laughing his ass off.

"What are you, a coat rack suddenly?" You demanded, matching his scowl with one of your own, still braced on your hands and knees over Farleigh, "also fuck you for making me beg for water." Careful, Oliver thinks, he's not quite done making you beg.

"Maybe his dick's broken," Farleigh snorted, "which would be a fucking shame; have you had a proper look at it?" Oliver bristled at the implications, though he knew he'd be thinking about the compliment tucked in there for days to come.

"You are both right fucking insufferable," Oliver snapped, getting to his feet and brushing himself off with indignation.

"Yeah, I'll cry about it in the shower later," you could clearly be heard rolling your eyes. There's a few pointedly obnoxious moments where you make a point of gagging on Farleigh's cock before coming back up for air and to add, "fuck me or fuck off - woah, okay, good choice!"

Before you can even finish your ultimatum, Oliver's decided he's come too far to, well, not. Grabbing your thighs with all the strength he could muster, he pulls you almost entirely away from Farleigh, to the end of the bed, half off the bed, causing you to faceplant into the duvet the moment your knees were no longer supporting you. Farleigh's protests fall on deaf ears, however, as all Oliver allows himself to focus on is keeping you stable, bent over the end of the bed like this.

Still, Farleigh shifts down to accommodate your change in position, despite his eye rolling and claims that Oliver's being dramatic, it's overshadowed by the sudden, loud moan that escapes you.

"Never felt someone so fucking desperate for someone they hate," Oliver bites out, almost impressed by how easy it was to bury himself in you. In the moment he gives you to adjust, his hand pressed to the small of your back to which you eagerly arch back against him, he watches Farleigh. It's his turn to be smug.

After a moment, he gives a few, shallow, experimental thrusts. Each time you rock back to meet him, to take him as deep as possible, and each time he hears a faint, pleased whimper. Your body and it's desires has betrayed you at every single opportunity, which is information Oliver gladly keeps in the back of his mind.

"Come on princess," he leans over to you to murmur in your ear where you'd pressed your face to Farleigh's thigh for the moment, attempting to keep going with your hand on him when your body could only focus on the rhythm of Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, "you've got a job to do, don't you want to be good?"

"I want to be good," you keened, before making the effort to prop yourself up, taking Farleigh in your mouth once more.

It's the last moment of care that Oliver affords, however, as he very quickly sets a rough pace, nails digging so hard into your hips that he thinks he might draw blood. But your cunt still clutches at him like it was made for his cock, so slick with how much you need this, need him in this moment, that it's already dripping down your thighs.

The three of you get lost in each other, each desperate moan from your muffled by Farleigh's cock hitting the back of your throat. The sensation soon sets him off and he can't keep his hands off of you. Up on his knees he takes over, takes your face in his hands as you look up at him, teary-eyed with a heady kind of bliss, and he matches Oliver's rhythm as he fucks your face.

Oliver can only imagine the kind of mess you look like right now, but has to focus on sustaining himself, making sure he doesn't leave you with any more excuses to belittle him tonight. So he reaches around, between your thighs, and his fingers find your desperately sensitive clit.

Immediately your stance slips, widens, gives him better access to your clit, and he hears your muffled moan become a choked sob. The beginning of the perfect end.

Farleigh's getting close, his pace is faltering, his hips are stuttering, you're whining and gasping desperate breathes between each of his thrusts, that have turned to wordless, overwhelmed sobs in the past few minutes. Oliver is genuinely impressed that you're able to take all of Farleigh like that; he wonders if he'd dedicated time to training you. He can't dwell on it, not when Farleigh's eyes have fallen closed and he's started mouthing what Oliver can only assume is a string of swear words.

For just a moment, Farleigh looks like an angel. Ethereal. He almost glows. Perfectly at peace and content and not a total, unbearable smug asshole. Then he pulls his cock out of your mouth and lets his legs give out again, flopping back onto your bed with a wide grin.

"I thought Oliver couldn't make you speechless," Farleigh teased, while you had in fact moved past words almost entirely, except -

"Please," you sobbed desperately. Farleigh, who'd never gotten to see you like this from here, lights up, moving back to you. You're shaking, barely able to support yourself, and he finally sees Oliver's hand between your thighs, and puts two and two together.

"Please?" He wears a smile that's all teeth, gently taking your shoulders and the pressure of keeping yourself up. In return you find yourself holding his face, his arms, everywhere, for support as he moved you back to press against Oliver. Taking the hint, Oliver wraps his arm around you, firm against your back, keeping you secure as he fucks up into you.

"Pleasepleaseplease -"

"Words, princess," Farleigh tells you as he brushes Oliver's hand out of the way, letting him focus on the new angle, the new sensation, the way you're trembling and so close to cumming on his cock. Before you can even formulate proper words at first, your head falls forward onto Farleigh's shoulder, sobbing, aching with how good you've been made to feel.

"I'm so close," you choke out, "please can I -"

"Selfish," Oliver admonishes coldly, and the reaction is immediate.

"No, no," you whimper apologetically, something Farleigh's never heard from you before. Lifting your head you lean back, fitting yourself against Oliver further, trying to placate, "please, no I promise- you, I need -" you take a deep, shuddering breath, "Ollie, please, it feels like I'm going to fucking die if you don't cum in me," you blurt out. Farleigh actually laughs, he's never seen you so fucking weak for another person.

Your begging and desperate pleas spur Oliver on, holding you tighter, fucking you harder, until he finally leans forward, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. It sends you over the edge, has you seeing stars as you cry out. Shudder and sobbing with your release, you feel Oliver bury his cock deep in you as it twitches and throbs and paints your inside.

Oliver lets you go, lets you fall onto Farleigh as your orgasm is still quaking through you. Oliver's hands grip your hips, keep you flush to him, keep you from pulling away.

"That's a good girl," Farleigh murmurs in your ear. He's holding you close with one arm, the other gently running his fingertips up and down your back in a comforting rhythm. He doesn't bother sparing Oliver a second glance, Oliver isn't an important part of this equation to him anymore. Not that that matters to Oliver.

It was far easier to pick you apart, to own you inside and out, than he'd ever imagined. He'd brought you to tears, made you beg for every last bit of fucking pleasure including every inch of him and then some. He would leave you aching, leave you knowing that you both knew the truth of where your place is in his world.

Finally Oliver pulls out of you, wiping his softening cock on your thighs before he thinks about getting dressed. He does take a few moments, while you're still half bent over the bed and being supported by Farleigh, where Oliver watched with a detached kind of approval, the way his cum starts to leak out of you, down your thighs with your own shining arousal.

The princess had been collared, cuffed, and his, inside and out.

"Thank- thank you, Oliver Quick," your voice is demure and grateful among your sniffles and whimpers, and Oliver can't help but smile to himself. His pride in you extends only to your final show of submission, though it's pride nonetheless.

"Good girl."

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