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#teaching while grieving

suffering-and-happy-about-it · 2 years

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The Man Behind the Myth (Love’s Wrecks, Part 4.)

Description: Heartbreak is one hell of a bitch. And one Edward Teach could tell you all about it. Yet thanks to Fate being a little trickster, there’s a person who enters his life to remind him of how nice it is of having someone he can confide in, someone he can care about, and someone he can trust. To remind him, what it means to have a friend for better or worse.

Part Summary: While life moves forward on board the Revenge, you learn a lot about the crew, their former captain, and the relationships on the ship. And just as your life seemingly moves forward with every sunrise, someone else's life is falling more and more apart.

Word counter: 5.7 K

A/N: I really, really think Edward is the type who shows affection through physical tough and also best receives it that way - he's just touchy-touchy all the time. And I'm pretty sure he'd also be clingy most of the time (just like when he almost climbed into Stede's lap during the kiss). For him, it's just the easiest way of showing/receiving affection or emotions I'd say. Also I’m a huge Gentleman Jack fan and I kinda imagined that the song hits by the end of the part, the camera would be zooming out of frame... Ah, that would be adorable. Also inspired by 2 Arabesques, L. 66: No.1 in E Major (by Claude Debussy)

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @soliyra-the-sunbringer

Series master list: h e r e | Series play list: h e r e

After shaking the initiative fear off, everything suddenly became strangely easy. It was easy to spend time with all the crew members, it was easy to bring Blackbeard his teas every single morning and evening, and it was easy to learn the basic rules the crew had (as well as the relationships between all of the men), it as was easy to remember all of your tasks, it was easy to learn Frenchie’s favorite songs and it was so stupidly easy to slip into a strange kind of routine.

Who would've thought? Slipping into a routine in the middle of nowhere, sailing as 'a captive' on a pirate ship. If you were to tell anyone about what you've been doing, they wouldn't believe it. No way. This resembled a fairytale child would listen to before going to sleep. But for you, it became a reality. At first, you were terrified - the men were pirates, after all, weren't they? How long until they'd stop with all the politeness and actually start acting like they were supposed to according to your book? How long until you'd be curling in fear hoping they'd leave you alone? How long until they'd get blackout drunk and start being aggressive? But to your surprise... None of that happened.

With each passing day, your relationship with the crew grew stronger and stronger - after a week and a half spent together, you’d swear you knew these guys all your life. You've listened to an enormous amount of funny stories, the men told you about their hometowns, about how they found themselves on board the ship. You've been getting to know them better and better, just like they were learning all about you. Soon, you began to pick up on their patterns, good habits, bad habits, and all the other weird thing that were specific to them and them only. Truth be told, you grew on the men just as much as they had grown on you. Fairly soon, it became clear that the crew had a soft spot for you; compared to them, you’ve been seen as a much smaller, gentler creature and you've also been sensitive to pirate humor. They accepted the fact that you’re something that needs to be protected to one degree or another. You've been self-sufficient and handy, of course, and you've been capable of finishing tasks on your own, but they were willing to accompany you or help anytime you'd ask them.

Wee John loved it when you just sat down and let him help with sewing. Roach welcomed you to his kitchen with his arms wide open and made sure to joke around a lot to make you laugh, and Frenchie talked to you about his time as a servant (which you had in common). Olu seemed to be the voice of reason, he was very intelligent, had good common sense, and was very calm - naturally, you've been genuinely surprised when you learned how short-tempered and hot-headed Jim could be at times. And yet, the two of them simply belonged together. Out of all the people on the ship, you most enjoyed your time hiding with Lucius and Pete, on occasion. Lucius had some strange aura around him, an aura of charm and wit, something that you couldn't quite put your finger on while Pete was a good, calm soul. You've even managed to grow onto Blackbeard's men - except Izzy. Fang and Ivan saw through the ploy rather quickly; seeing you interacting with the rest of the men with ease and calmness made them aware about you not being "a very valuable captive" as you first presented yourself; yet since they both despised Izzy just as much as the rest of you did, they swore to keep the ploy a secret.

It was very fun trying to portray the role of a scared posh lady captured by pirates; anytime Izzy was around to watch over you, which that little rat did rather often, you and the guys agreed to portray him a little over-the-top fuckery to keep the conviction alive. The conviction of you being someone who doesn't belong and is beyond terrified to be there was possibly why you were still. And as far as it worked, you weren't too worried about telling Izzy the truth. Sure, you were aware that one day, you'll be sold off to slavery... But from what you've understood, the captain didn't plan on anchoring the ship anywhere anytime soon. So far, you've been safe and taken care of way beyond your wildest expectations.

The only thing you've been prohibited from doing, quite logically, was joining the crew during various raids and scavaging. The captain told you not to even think about joining his men - he intended to keep you alive until the point he can get successfully rid of you (preferably sell you for some money). The sweetest part about this prohibition was nothing else than the pirates themselves. The boys usually made sure to sneak in something they'd later give you. Sometimes it was luxurious clothes or an exquisite piece of jewelry, sometimes it a piece of fresh food they'd found aboard the other ship, other times it was various books; anything from collections of law, which you didn't understand at fucking all, to fairytales and novels. Each book you've been given was hidden away in your secret stash located in Lucius' hideaway.

The men also made sure you’re feeling safe when you slept - you’d usually be cuddled into a tight ball laying amidst all of them. They made sure you had enough blankets to cover yourself in and a comfy pillow to lay on; that was all they could do. Anytime you'd start furrowing and mumbling in your sleep, indicating you weren't sleeping well, at least one of them would wake up to calm you down. That was usually Swede's time to come in. This dude might not have been the one to have deep late-night conversations with, but he could sing like an angel - over the first week, he successfully lulled you back to sleep five times. Only when you'd start breathing heavily again he'd go back to sleep himself. One night, when you couldn't get your eyes shut, he spent most of it talking about his home (which made you smile while you listened to him) and his scurvy (which made you so disgusted, that you actually planned on jumping overboard for a split second).

Even though life was moving forward in its own place, there was still a ghost of the past luring on the ship; it was the ghost of the former captain. And its presence was felt on each step you took. The ship itself was indicating many things about Stede Bonnet. Simply the fact that he was able to build an entire ship using his own funding meant that this man was rich and liked a luxurious, sometimes a bit lavish lifestyle. The wood was expansive, the ship was well equipped, the pirates had anything they could possibly need and even the remnants of Stede's decorations were very luxurious. At first, you'd assume that Bonnet was just another bored rich boy who thirsted for adventure. But the men talked about him a lot, changing your opinion a lot. They adored him if you were to exaggerate a bit; according to the crew, Stede was a lovely, mannerly man with a kind soul and even a kinder heart. He might've been a weakling, a coward, but he always had the best intentions in mind. Over the time spent with the crew, you’ve managed to learn a lot about the man; and when you said lot, you’ve meant a lot.

Stede Bonnet was undeniably a gentle soul brought up in luxury, never feeling any sort of shortage. And even though he himself was not well equipped for the life of a pirate, he learned from his crew just as they learned from Stede. The former captain taught the boys many manners about which normal peasants could dream about, the man was willing to talk everything through and he even approached piracy itself with manners, sense, and tenderness that was absolutely unheard of. The crew told you a lot about the various trinkets that were used to decorate the ship, about his rather extensive library formerly located in his cabin, his over-the-top wardrobe, and all of the small particularities the ship was built with. Stede himself sounded very particular; you could barely imagine what the man looked like, but you were interested in meeting him.

One day, while visiting Lucius, you've been handed Stede's diary - it was a transcript of everything that had happened on the Revenge before Blackbeard went on a rampage. Even that time, just as you were about to learn about the relationship between Blackbeard and Stede, you’ve been interrupted from actually learning anything. Lucius tore the book out of your grip due to Pete’s eyes widening as he looked up; first, you wanted to ask about what’s he doing, but Lucius put his palm over your lips, pointing his finger upstairs. The wood was creaking under someone’s steps, and a loud argument could be heard coming from up there. Someone was pacing around the room, yelling at the other party. Listening in, you recognized Izzy’s voice; anytime he was upset, his voice got a few octaves higher. Izzy usually sounded like an upset woman, but this high-pitched squealing was beyond everyone’s comprehension. All three of you sat on her floor silent as mice until you heard a loud bang - someone, presumably Izzy, just shut the door.

“Whoever he’s looking for is in deep shit.” - Lucius muttered, furrowing as he looked at you. - “I’ve heard him this upset once. It was when he and Ed had that big argument. You remember that, babe?” “Oh, yeah.” - Pete breathed out, shaking his head at that memory. - “We all thought Blackbeard was doing better. He came to see us after weeks, sang us a song… We don’t know what Izzy told him that evening, we only heard this god-awful screeching.” "Oh lord, I can only imagine what is going on. I hope I didn't clean the storage room poorly, hm?" - You said as you tried to lean closer, trying to reach the diary in Lucius' arms. The last few pages were very exciting, right out of an adventure novel - it was talking about how the two captains met. Stede was stabbed by the Spaniards and he was bleeding out... Suddenly, when all hope seemed to be lost, Blackbeard and his crew saved everyone. You stopped right before Stede was about to wake up after his fever dreams and you wished to learn more. Yet as soon as Lucius noticed that you almost held the diary in your palm, he snatched it out of your reach and gently slapped your palm away.

"Unbelievable. If you read it all now, Y/N, what will you read the next time you'll come for a visit? Anyway, you two should go now." - Lucius breathed out uncomfortably. The man loved your frequent visits and he hated when he had to send away. This time, you really couldn't overstay your welcome. Usually, Izzy was hardly anything more than a harmless barking chihuahua, but he could be ready to bite any moment now. - "The ship isn't that big and soon, he'll run out of places to check. Maybe he's looking for one of you." "Or, maybe, Olivia shat on his boots again and he's actually looking for Buttons. Buttons is surprisingly good at hide and seek, to be fair." - Was your answer as you picked yourself up, stretching your back with a quiet moan. Lucius snickered while hiding the diary away. Olivia shat all over Izzy's leather boots, you said? Dear Lord, Lucius would give anything just to see that happening. - "The bird did what now?"

"Oh, it happened two days ago. Izzy was yelling at Buttons because the rope wasn't rolled up properly... And, you know how usually Buttons gets when he's upset; he started mumbling all sorts of mumbo jumbo to his bird and the next thing I know, Izzy is yelling on top of his fucking lungs like a little girl." - This truly made Lucius laugh from the bottom of his stomach; he could imagine the whole scene playing out right in front of his very eyes. - "I had to polish those fucking boots for three hours, but damn, wasn't the look on Izzy's face worth it? He was as red as a tomato." "It was pretty funny." - Pete agreed, chuckling as well. After that, you smiled at the pair and turned your back to them, pulling the wooden panel down. You've heard them saying their goodbyes as you crawled up the tiny staircase; you've knocked on the other panel with your knuckles, waiting for Roach to pull it away.

As soon as you saw Roach's expression, you could tell that it was him and Izzy who had been arguing. And by the nervous tic on his face, you also knew that your name must've been mentioned. "Right hand was looking for you just minutes ago. That rat couldn't find you anywhere and he is pretty upset about it." - The man started explaining while helping Pete to step out of the wall. Oh, shit. So it was you who was looking for, huh? Izzy was Izzy, there was probably nothing to be worried about, but... Your heart grew heavier for a second. You didn't do anything wrong, you've made sure all the tasks are completed perfectly before taking any sort of break, and the captain never complained about your teas... What happened, then? For all you knew, you could've been a walking corpse by that moment and the captain could've decided to kill you out of pure whim.

"What the fuck did he want? I did everything he asked me to do this morning and I told him, very slowly and calmly, that I'll start working on the rest in the evening." "Oh, yea, you know... We might be best friends, but Mr. Rat wasn't too specific with me. I'll ask him next time tho, don't worry." - Roach answered with pure irony in his voice, putting all of the barrels back in their place. Upon hearing that tone, you just rolled your eyes, sighed, and waited for the rest of what he had to say. - "Listen, I don't ever remember seeing him this upset with any of us. Like... Ever. Are you sure you haven't forgotten about anything today, Y/N? Did you get captain his morning cuppa?"

"Was I thrown overboard?" - Your answer had the same amount of irony in it. - "Of course, I got the captain his cup of tea. And I am pretty fucking sure I haven't forgotten anything from the to-do list. I guess I'll just go and find him, eh?" - You guessed, starting to leave the room while following the sound of high-pitched screeching. Why would he be so upset with you? You got used to his tone-deaf jokes that overstepped any boundary you possibly had, you knew that anything you did was never enough in his eyes, you got used to his pissy voice and face and you even got used to his terrible impressions of the crew. But he never disliked your presence so much that he'd simply explode out of nowhere. You must've really fucked up. "You better move your ass. Izzy isn't too far from going on a rampage and searching through every inch of the ship. He could potentially discover other hidden passages." - Pete told you with a serious face. He didn't even have to say the rest to understand. He could discover Lucius by accident. You took a moment to look Pete in the face, furrowing until the furrow changed into a small smile; the man standing in front of you was so much in love and you found it adorable. - "Don't worry Pete, I won't let that rat find Lucius just because he has one of his moody days. Promise." - Quickly, you patted his shoulder and walked out of the kitchen.

You managed to find him on the deck, just as he was scolding another person just because you were nowhere to be seen. Izzy was leaning above Swede, spitting at least forty various curses onto that poor innocent soul. The blonde man looked at you, his blue eyes widened, but you shook your head. The rat must've been scolding that poor guy just to let the steam out of the system; dear Lord, you owed Swede so many apologies. Roach? Ah, he was fine, he was just very dramatic and he secretly loved to argue with Izzy... But Swede was the type that never argued with anyone. Gulping, you saluted and took a deep breath in. - "Sir, I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. I was cleaning up the infirmary and the toilets and Roach sent me here as soon as we bumped into each other." - It was nothing more but mere whispering coming out of your mouth. But at least, it was enough to make Izzy straighten up and adjust his hair a bit. He was mad, you could already tell; the long sigh was a giveaway.

"Mrs. Trott, you seriously have zero ideas about how long I've been looking for your damn fucking ass. And you!" - Izzy spat in Swede's direction for the last time. Izzy's nostrils were widening so much that there was nothing more than two enormous black holes in the middle of his face and the vein on his forehead was pumping alarmingly fast. - "If I come back and won't see my reflection crystal clear on the deck, you'll be without rations for a week, do you hear me?" "Yes, sir, I do, I do." - Swede answered quietly, soaking his rag in a soiled bucket right next to him. - "Thank you, I'm sorry sir." "Follow me." - The rat commanded you, walking to the other side of the deck at an insanely fast pace. You could feel your palms getting sweatier with each step you took, and your stomach was shrinking as you walked further away from any crew members. This was it, you thought to yourself, you'll be thrown overboard. The captain finally had enough of you, right? Why would he continue feeding you just so you could fetch him a cup of tea? He wasn't charity - he was an insane, bloodthirsty pirate.

"What I'm about to tell you is deeply personal and confidential. If you say a word to any of these idiots, I'll make sure you'll hang by the sundown, are we clear?" - The rat-man spat into your face, yelling and whispering at the same time. Since you expected to be thrown overboard immediately, your expression turned into pure confusion. Why was he so stiff and angry if he was to let you die anyway? You'd presume that something similar to a bit of murder would make his day absolutely wonderful. Without a doubt, Izzy would be walking around the ship, humming a tune with a smile on his lips and he'd be even more mocking than usual. - "Do you hear me, woman?" - He snapped after you've continued to stare down at him for another few seconds being absolutely dumbstruck. "Sorry, sir. I hear you. What's the matter? Are you unhappy with my work, did I do something wrong, sir?" "Ah, you only think about cleaning. I mean, your work could be done better, of course, but it's not the worst either...." - Izzy hissed at you, still whispering; he seemed to be calming down a bit, though. The man leaned his forearms into the wooden railing in front of him, watching the waves crashing. - "Forget about your duties now, wench. That's not why I needed to talk to you. It's about the captain." - Suddenly, he stopped himself, stretching the nape of his neck while taking a deep breath. The captain. Did he wish to talk about Blackbeard? That lunatic was alive and well as far as you could day; you've seen him earlier that very morning. - "Surely, you had to notice that I and you are the only two people he's come to contact with ever since you've been captured, right?"

Without answering a word, you watched Izzy's profile getting softer than usual. You've seen that motherfucker doing a lot of various faces, anything from grinning through evil laughter to just pure mockery, but you've never seen his features growing... Softer. This stuff was, indeed, personal to him. - "I've noticed that, sir. Is there anything wrong with how I present him his teas? Would you like me to change it up?" "No. Captain Blackbeard is in a very bad mood tonight. Just bring him his tea, as usual, but don't react to anything you'd hear or see inside the cabin. It is absolutely necessary that all of his stays a secret, do you understand?" - And for the first time, the man looked at you with a serious gaze; there was no sign of hatred or contempt, but there were hundreds of pleas present in it. And so, you sighed and nodded. - "You can trust me on that one, sir. I promise I won't talk to anyone about it..." - Then, you grinned with faked bitterness. - "Not like I can tell anyone, huh?"

Even though the last part was an utter lie, you didn't tell the guys what Izzy asked of you. And trust me, there had been chances to talk about it. The crew was curious about Izzy’s sudden outburst and none of them understood what you had to do with any of it. They’ve been trying to make you talk all afternoon long and there were a few moments when you almost let it slip past your lips. As soon as you realised that you almost blew it, you just started talking about Izzy not being happy with the way you're cleaning the toilet. It was a weak cover story, but a good one nonetheless; you’ve theorised about the guy hating your cleaning to absolute bits. As usual, the tea was ready by the time sky started to darken and the stars started the shine. This time, you took your time preparing the tea yourself (choosing a fine brew of fruit, sweet tea). To top it off, you put small pieces of chocolate and dried raspberries into the small bowl. - “I’ll be right back, the time has come.” - You told all of the boys with a smile, picking the tray up after you put your white apron on. The crew was playing various card games while sitting at the table, enjoying their break to the fullest. - “And don’t let Frenchie cheat! I saw the card he’s hiding in his sleeve!” - You added before waltzing out of the room. With laughter, you’ve listened to yet another argument caused by nothing more than a stupid joke.

The weather was beautiful that evening; it was warm, gentle breeze was blowing, the sea was calm and the air smelled nice and fresh. You didn’t stop to take the view in, though, you had more imports things to do. When you knocked on the captain’s door and waited for anyone to respond, there was nothing more but dead silence for a fairly long time - but just as Izzy told you, you opened the door and carried the tray in, pretending it’s just any other day. - "Captain? Hello? Your evening cuppa is here!" - You tried calling out into the pitch-black space around you, not seeing him anywhere in the shadows. You kinda expected another of his edgy performances, maybe a bottle flying by, but this time, it was different.

The windows were completely covered under the rugs of the heavy red fabric; there wasn’t a chance there would be a single ray of sunshine slipping through it this time. The fabric wasn’t covering the view this neatly ever before. Blackbeard must’ve spent hours pinning it down. As far as you could tell, he wasn't even present in the room with you; there was no huffing or breathing that could be heard and your surroundings were completely still and lifeless. There was only one lit candle in the room and it was the one standing on his table as an invitation for you. Since you didn't know where he was or what was going on, you carried the silver tray onto the table and started gathering all of the dirty dishes laying around so you could wash them later. That was when you first heard it. At first, you thought you must be wrong; it was a quiet, muffled sob coming out of inside the cabin's walls. Ignoring it, you put the usual seven spoons of sugar into the empty cup, preparing everything for him. That was when you heard it again; the sobbing and quiet shuffling. And this time, it sounded more real. This time, your brain made you aware of that sound not being made up.

For a slight moment, you made your body anything you’ve been doing just so you could locate the source of the sounds. Looking around the pitch black cabin, you’ve been surely alone inside of the room. That also meant that whoever was crying, must’ve been shying away in yet another built-in room. Leaving the preparations, you started walking around, t trying to find the entrance just to see who was it and what was going on. You had your, pretty solid, guess - but you were still intrigued by this unexpected situation. First, you walked behind the desk to inspect it further back; your eyes had been trailing on the floor for any sort of discrepancy. Not finding anything back there, you walked around the entire room, searching for any sort of panel; that was when another sob came through, telling you that you were walking further away from the person. And then, all of a sudden, you could see a small ray of dim light coming from yet another loosened panel built into the wall next to one of Stede’s former libraries. So this was what 'captain is in a very bad mood' meant? The myth itself, the legendary captain Blackbeard, was having a breakdown in his small sulking room? That was pretty surprising if you had to be honest. You’d expect finding the man burning someone alive, you’d expect him to throw knives at you or shoot at you, you’d expect scolding and mockery… But you’d never expect anything like this.

With all the willpower you found within you, you decided to continue with serving the tea. Just as Izzy instructed you, you didn't react to anything you heard. It was incredibly uncomfortable for you, though; as you finished the preparations, the sobs were started to get more raw, even more painful. There was definitely some sort of hurt in the sounds. And not just any kind of hurt; the man was suffering inside. You've heard this kind of sobbing just once, a long time ago... And it was still making you physically sick, even after all those years.

For a moment, you didn't know what should be your next step - your head was telling you to leave the cabin, to leave the captain alone in his despair, to get the fuck out of there as Izzy instructed you - but your heart... Your heart was saying something entirely different. As your fingers started to pick up the tray, you stopped yourself and put it back down. To dry your palms from cold sweat, you quickly wiped them on your upper thighs, then you cleared your throat and started walking towards the loosened panel. With a small sigh, you dared to open it; and the sight simply broke your heart. No matter what kind of fucker Blackbeard was, there was no doubt in your mind that he's also in deep fucking shit. At that moment, his mental stability was thrown out of the window and the man was left alone to face his deepest demons. The misery and pain were emitting through the entire wardrobe while the man himself was curled up into a small ball, hidden away in one of the corners. His hair was let loose, his brown eyes were red from crying and there were small red maps all over his cheeks. The man was dressed in a pink robe, hiding away in that enormous piece of fabric. - "What the fuck are you doing here?" - Blackbeard spat in a weak, broken voice. No matter how scary and terrifying he was attempting to be, this couldn’t be further away from his mythical persona. This man, whoever you’ve been looking at, was nothing but a pathetic doppelgänger. - "Stop staring at me like that and fuck off. Go away."

And even through this clear warning, you continued to stand still while holding the panel in your palm. It was heartbreaking, to stare at that small ball of fear and agony. The man attempted to throw a bottle your way, making you step away a bit. It didn't break apart this time, but the rum spilled all over the dusty wooden floor. Looking around, you realized this must've been Stede's closet. It was mesmerizing and full of his clothes; everything from summer linen to winter coats, captain Bonnet had it all. - "I told you to get lost!" - The man yelled in your direction; and as soon as he did, he curled into the ball once more, pushing his face into his knees to hide away from you. It would be wise to leave, so fucking wise, you admitted inside your head. Yet the longer you stood there, watching him in such pain, the less you wanted to leave him like that. It wasn't morally right to simply turn your back on what you've been seeing. And so, you made the first step forward. Without saying a single word out loud or touching him, you decided to sit next to him, looking in front of you. And for a long time, you've been just sitting there, staring in front of yourself.

You've been so caught up in staring into the pitch-black dark cabin that you didn't notice the man raising his head up, watching you with interest in his eyes. It was for the first time in the last few months he was feeling something else than rage; did you really just sat down next to him? He was a bit wonderstruck, unsure of what to do; he scared you to death not too long ago and he ordered you to leave... Why the fuck were you still sitting next to him like that, not saying a word, not trying to cheer him up or talk to him? Anyone else would leave as soon as he'd order them to, they wouldn't make a single sound and they would, without a doubt, let him fall deeper and deeper into the black hole he had inside his chest. But by doing this, you offered Edward company and encouragement. In the end, no matter how hard he tried to keep all of those emotions in without anyone noticing, you were there to go through the rollecoaster with him.

To be honest, you looked bored to death.This small token of empathy, was enough to make him cry even more. Edward would never suspect to act this kind towards him. Especially knowing you couldn't have any idea about what kind of man he was. And yet, there you were - waiting for him to say anything he needed to. If you'd noticed that Edward was staring at you for quite some time with a deep frown, you'd also notice the man shuffling a bit closer to you, searching for even more company without saying a single word out loud. If you paid attention for at least a split second, you wouldn't get freaked out when the man hugged you emotionally, pressing his head onto your chest, starting to cry again. You've been kneeling on the wooden floor with your arms risen above your head, gasping for air - the man was holding you tight, pressing your body onto his. There wasn't a single affectionate emotion in that touch, though, it was pure desperation, almost as if he was drowning and you were the only thing he could hold on to. Slowly, very slowly, you lowered your hands down and put them on Edward's shoulders, just to see how he'd respond.

The man pressed his ear into your chest even more firmly while he closed his eyes and listened to your heartbeat, basically climbing between your legs like a small boy terrified by a nightmare. Furrowing, you embraced him a bit more; your palms smoothed Edward's shoulders and his upper back, traveling through the silky pink fabric. This reciprocation was telling him that whatever was happening at that moment was alright, even if neither of you understood how it happened. It was human to need someone's company in times of hardship, it was normal to need to feel some kind of emotional connection and support from another human being, and it was perfectly fine to be vulnerable around someone else; even if the state was just a momentary one. For a second, you realized something.

The man holding onto you for his dear life wasn't the Blackbeard you've heard stories about, it wasn't even the captain who threw a bottle right next to your head in the heat of the moment. It wasn't the man who had each member of his crew shit in their pants upon hearing his name, it wasn't the barbarian rumored to murder hundreds upon thousands of innocent people. No. This person had nothing to do with Blackbeard. The man in your arms was Edward. Ed and no one else. And just when the realization hit you, you realized the man was now breathing heavily with his head still pressed onto your chest; there were no sobs, no crying. Edward fell asleep in your arms, which was both a nice and a bad thing. But Izzy can kiss my ass and wait until the morning, you thought to yourself as you leaned your chin on top of Edward's head, closing your eyes as well.

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mvth3r · 2 months

Text

thinking about daryl giving you a nickname…

18+, mdni

AN: this was a midnight brain worm while i was working on something else, so just walk with me ok!

daryl wasn't really one for nicknames.

he'd never had one coming up, always just "daryl" or "merle's brother" or something else sneered and distasteful. that was fine with him. to daryl, nicknames were rooted in sarcasm and mean jokes.

it hadn't started any differently with you.

that day in the quarry way back, the morning after the walkers had attacked their people. daryl was already aggravated, sweaty and thinking about merle (alone and hurt and alone), and he didn't much like these fucking people anyway, so when you stood with glenn, insisting on a burial over burning, dried tear tracks on your face (those people were your people too. you were mourning with the rest of them), he didn't hold back, sneering "well ain't you just a fuckin' peach," and watching your face harden in the wake of his words.

daryl didn't mean for it to stick, but he found himself defaulting to the silly name anyway. first when he was annoyed at you. you were soft, unfit for the grime of this new world, then when he was poking fun, and eventually... something else.

in the cdc, with a hangover keeping you slumped over the table, "shoulda stayed out the bottle if ya couldn't handle it, peach."

over the long winter on the road, with barely any food or water, "keep up, peach, i ain’t gon’ carry you.”

in the prison, sharing shifts up in the watchtower (because you were sort of friends now) (because daryl felt almost rewarded when your eyes lit up at your nickname), "don't need to teach you on the bow, peach. you're just fine with a knife."

trapped in the train car in terminus, fussing over his injuries even though you could barely map him out in the dark, "peach. peach. quit it, ‘m alright."

the road to alexandria was long and brutal. 'peach' turned into your name and your name turned into silence. daryl was grieving, you were grieving, and the space between you felt like a chasm, dark and wide. finding that community was a blessing in disguise, not just for the group, but for you and daryl specifically. you came back together behind the walls, both unwilling to acclimate, but knowing you needed to try.

‘peach’ made its way back into circulation slowly and then so frequently that even the alexandrians began to catch on.

when daryl had to leave with aaron for a run, “later, peach. i’ll find ya after your shift.”

laughing over your assigned job, “the hell you know about gardenin’, peach? they shoulda put ya in the tower.”

inevitably your relationship shifted into something more intimate. it wasn’t a secret, hell, the group had seen it coming long ago.

‘peach’ stopped being a nickname and became a term of endearment. something daryl reserved for tender moments.

startling awake when daryl joined you in bed, late after a long run, “just me, peach, go back to sleep.”

when you came back from a run that turned dicey, a little worse for wear, “lemme see it, peach, i got ya.”

and in… other moments as well.

your body pressed firmly against daryl's, his lips a breath from yours, whispering, “tell me what ya need, peach. you know i’ll give it to ya.”

daryl laid between your legs, two fingers curling cruelly against your g-spot while you rode out your orgasm above him, “there ya go, peach, so fuckin’ good.”

daryl had never been one for nicknames, this fact held up even after the world ended. your own family was rarely on the receiving end of a playful moniker. but to him, ‘peach’ was easy as breathing and, to you, it sounded like “i love you” every time.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #twd imagine

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beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months

Text

I ❤️ DILFS / GOOD GIRL (18+)

pairing: student!brother's bff!seokmin x student!good girl!reader

genre: college au, brother's best friend au, smut (MDNI), bit of crack, a small bit of angst but not nearly as much as most of my fics

description: when you head out for college, you incidentally end up at the one your bother's best friend has disappeared to 2 years prior. now, seokmin has promised your brother, vernon, to teach you and take care of you while you're away from home. unfortunately, it seems vernon should have been a bit more specific about what exactly seokmin was supposed to be teaching you.

warnings: vernon is ur overprotective brother, seokmin is not a dilf unfortunately, dirty talk, masturbation (male and female), fingering, slight restraint?, praise (f. receiving), pet names (good girl is so overused), teaching, innocence kink, corruption kink, oral (m. receiving), tiddie play, alcohol consumption, a bit of pining, shame on the readers part, she feels a bit like a slut for a moment, kinda brief mention of miscarriage? for like a metaphor lol, jeonghan is hot in this, giselle is ur bff and i almost gave up my mission and made this whole fic ab her shes so hot, ok i think thats it

quotes my creative director (@joshibambi): "just admit u wanna bang son", "o is for orgasm", "the urge to be the younger sibling for once"

wordcount: 15.9k

a/n: the way this fic took me years to write. i hav been busy :( thank u 2 every1 who liked girl code uve made my whole year :D hope u like this one 2!!

You preferred to remember Seokmin for how he was.

How he was small and young, how he had a swanky bowlcut and how he looked in his school uniform. How he and your big brother, Vernon, had bonded and watched movies together in your living room, and the countless dinners he’d stayed over for, always so respectful to your parents and you. He wasn’t your best friend, he was Vernon’s, and yet he made it so easy to feel comfortable, so easy to feel like you were the one he came over for.

You crushed on him back then, wrote countless diary entries about him and his stupid, beautiful smile. But it had been so forbidden, you remembered feeling that, because of how Vernon had groaned at you to leave every time you peaked your head through the living room door, masking your insistent eyes on Seokmin with simply wanting to “watch a grown up movie”. Sighing, you’d turn back to your princess pink room, and the boundary - the Vernon shaped boundary - that stood between you and Seokmin grew farther.

It had almost been a relief when Seokmin left for college. That was the most terrible thing, the relief you felt while your brother was grieving the sudden separation with his best friend. But your heart simply couldn’t help but let out a long sigh - years of yearning for him when he was so close by. You felt that cool wash of repose when that border between you and him had disappeared from your view. Years of watching it, wondering whether to pad closer or turn away from it, became a distant memory. For two years you were almost a normal girl and a good baby sister.

Then it was your turn to head off for college. The nearest, big college to you accepted your application and you still distinctly remember dinner with your parents and your brother, how’d they’d cheered and clinked glasses and looked at you adoringly, because you were growing up right before their eyes. Then under the faint light of the restaurant chandelier, your mom had said something that immediately sent you hurdling back to that old, distant boundary: “Maybe you’ll see Seokmin there!”

How had you forgotten? You supposed in that time you’d let yourself be more taken with the relief. It was the thought that he would be gone that had distracted you from exactly where to. And there you were with all your moving plans and your packed backs, and your glass raised and frozen in the air and your eyes wide.

Then came the reasoning: surely, you could avoid him? It was a big college, there were plenty of people. There was no logical reason you’d really have to see him. Except for Vernon, of course. Ever so oblivious, your brother had called up Seokmin to tell him the good news, and to tell him to take care of you and protect you. And Seokmin was so sweet, of course, he’d take care of his best friend’s baby sister.

And there you were at college. All grown up.

In your defense, you had avoided him skillfully. You’d turned down his request to help you with unpacking, turned down his tour of the school (that you’d actually desperately needed - why is room 240 not with all the other 40’s?!), and most of all, you’d turned down every single message inviting you to a party.

I guess to him that was a perk; partying with the older kids. He knew you after all. He knew that you were a quiet girl and you stayed within your neatly laid brick walls, and he knew you were shy, and he knew you needed help letting loose. He knew you were a good girl.

Which is why it wasn’t surprising at all that you turned down his offers - wanting to stay focused on school. At least, that’s what you told him. Truth was even being in his vicinity had put you much closer to that boundary you’d never dared cross. You were afraid even just seeing him would send you hurdling back, like a leaf in the wind. So you didn’t go.

For a while, at least.

“This is, like, a once in a lifetime opportunity!” Giselle whined and you shook your head adamantly. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, maybe not for you, but for me!” she argued. “I can’t believe you’re consistently being invited to parties with hot, sexy men, and you’re turning it down because of one guy!”

You were currently sitting in the library with your roommate, Giselle, and you’d made the unfortunate mistake of telling her about your predicament after receiving yet another invitation to a party tomorrow. Giselle was throwing a temper tantrum because she had never ever had anything as ridiculous.

You liked Giselle a lot. She was very different from you - she was hot. You weren’t - you were cute. Giselle held boys on leashes and made them do homework for her. She liked partying and sexy, black dresses. You were a fucking nerd, and cute was the highest compliment you had ever received for your looks. Even though you were different, Giselle had immediately taken a liking to you. You had initially feared she would think you were lame, but she was so nice - except for right now.

“Come on, Y/n, there are, like, no cute guys in our year!” she said pleadingly, clasping her hands together and pouting, but you shook your head.

“You don’t understand, Giselle,” you murmured solemnly, trying to regain your focus on the science textbook in front of you.

“I understand perfectly well,” she said and you eyed her suspiciously. “I understand that you’re a bitch!”

“Alright, that’s unnecessary,” you said, closing your book. You pinched the bridge of your nose, when she went on. “No, honestly, Y/n. You’re a virgin, right?”

You snapped your head towards her in shock. Your eyes darted around frantically, before you leaned over the table to whisper to her: “How do you know that?”

“Don’t embarrass yourself, honey,” she grinned, holding back laughter and you rolled your eyes, sighing. “And what about it, Giselle?”

“How are you ever gonna get yourself out there if you’re constantly caught up on this guy and trying to keep away your feelings for him? You’ll stay a virgin forever, girl. You need to look him in the eyes and realize you’re above that childish crush!”

You stayed quiet, slumped in on yourself with your book in your lap. Why was she making sense?

You’d never thought about it that way. That your infatuation with your brother’s best friend was somehow holding you back from exploring and evolving as a woman. That maybe having him in the back of your mind every time you’d shyly made out with guys in high school, had been the thing that stopped you in your tracks.

“I can see it on your face, you know I’m right,” Giselle smiled smugly from behind the screen of her laptop. “Unless you’re asexual. In that case, fierce, but if you’re not, like, get out there, queen. Sometimes you need to realize that you have to leave one dick for another dick because the other dick is so good.”

You furrowed your brows. “Is.. Is this still about me?”

“No,” Giselle shook her head.

“Okay, yeah, ‘cause- ‘cause that didn’t..”

“Yeah, I know. I was more so, uh, angling-”

“Right-”

“Angling the story to- to my current situation.”

“I get it, yep.”

There was a moment of silence. You pursed your lips and looked at the message on your phone. Then you started typing.

“Are you telling him you’re coming with your super sexy, hot friend?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N, I LOVE YOU.” _____________________________

Regret was a nasty, old demon on your back and it had twisted and tugged at your guts, while you let Giselle get you party-ready. You’d sat on her bed, in her dress, and having her put her makeup on you, you’d sulked and tried to shrug off your back.

“You look so hot when you actually try,” she’d giggled, using a fluffy brush to spread the bake underneath your eyes.

“Thanks,” you’d mumbled, and she’d paused her movements, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” she’d asked, sitting back on her knees. You had sighed, reaching a hand up to run it through your hair, but pausing midway when you realized you would ruin the styling Giselle had worked so hard on. You lowered your hand again.

“I’m not sure about this,” you’d murmured and she frowned genuinely. “Y/n, I meant what I said. I know I talk a lot about boys and stuff, but you really shouldn’t let yourself be held back by him!”

Before you could speak again, Giselle had tugged you off the floor to stand in front of her mirror.

“Look at you,” she’d cooed, clapping your shoulders. “You look so pretty!”

You’d smiled a little shyly, looking at your form in the mirror abashedly. You were pretty. Not cute, not nerdy; pretty. Curves hugged tight by a sleek, black dress from Giselle’s closet, this was a version of you that could actually see having sex - seducing men, gaining from her looks.

“I guess you’re right,” you’d said sheepishly, and Giselle had smiled sincerely and you’d let her take you to the party down the streets in a nearby frat house, and you’d almost not wavered when you stood right in front of it, music blasting out of every crevice.

But then you were inside and he was right there. For the first time in two years, he was there, and he was so hot. He was wearing a white tee and a fucking silver chain, and, God, when did he start working out, because his arms were so big and so toned. And his hair was fluffy and dark brown, and his face was slim, and the tops of his cheekbones were shining under the kitchen lamp, where he was talking to some other guy, arm flexed, as he leaned against it on the counter.

If there was one thing about Seokmin that had stayed the same it was that smile. He wore it now, laughing, as he talked to some blonde guy about something, and you wanted to scream because, there it was. The boundary, the ledge, the line, whatever, it was right before you again, right there with him. And all the feelings that came with it, your heart, wet and red in your throat, a brew of anxiety in your stomach.

Without sparing even a second, you’d clasped onto Giselle’s wrist, tugging her into a herd of anonymous people, and just walking. Walking, walking, pulling her along (she countered only with a “hey!”) only for you to hit a wall or something, just as long as you were far, far away from him.

“What the hell?” she said, when you finally stopped walking because you’d entered the living room, which was apparently more exclusive, as only a few people populated it, including a couple that was making out on the far end of the couch.

“He was there,” you gasped dramatically, as if you’d seen a ghost. “I-I can’t do this, Giselle.”

“Relax, babe, it’ll be fine. You’re away from him now, aren’t you?” Although she was trying to be supportive, you could tell she was growing a little tired of your theatrics. You couldn’t care less though, you were panting, and peering over her shoulder to see if he was somehow coming towards; and, God forbid, smile at you with that angel grin.

Giselle followed your gaze and sighed, brows furrowing. “How about I get us some drinks? Then you can let loose a little.”

You nodded absently, following her lead when she pulled you to sit down on the couch. You clambered to the couch rest, when she walked away, swaying her hips to the music.

You might’ve looked different, but you were still you. The entire scene had you uncomfortable, and you were still the shy, unconfident and nerdy girl. You cursed yourself for letting Giselle’s reassurances fool you - you would never be this type of person, and you would surely never get over Seokmin. She’d been wrong about everything.

“You okay, darling?”

You jumped at the voice, eyes darting up to see who it was.

You didn’t know him. He was handsome, though, but you’re not even sure you’d call it that. He was pretty, and he had long, black hair and big eyes and he was giving you this teasing smile, that was doing nothing to ease your nerves.

“I’m good,” you squeaked, gaze moving to a nearby pair of shoes in the corner of the room. You heard him chuckle, before he dropped into a squat before you. One lean hand came up to your knee, giving it a squeeze. “You just look so nervous, pretty,” he sat down an anonymous cup of liquor. “I don’t think I know you. Can you tell me your name?”

The hand on your knee burned into you, thumb brushing back and forth over the skin and he was looking at you so intently, it had you sputtering. “Uhm, uh, Y/n.”

His thumb froze. You looked over at him curiously to find this dumbfounded expression on his face, devious grin spreading on his pretty features. He chuckled and cleared his throat, face dropping down before he moved it back to look at you again.

“You’re the girl Seokmin’s always inviting over here?”

You nodded shyly and he smiled at you. “I’m Jeonghan.”

“Hi.”

A pause. Jeonghan squeezed your thigh, watching in delight at the way you screwed your eyes shut.

“You know, I just didn’t expect you to look like this,” he said finally and, sensing your confusion, he teasingly added: “The girl who’s always turning down parties to study.”

You blush deepened, cheeks furiously rosy, as you fiddled with your fingers in your lap. “I borrowed my friend's clothes,” you breathed, pursing your lips. “Ah!” Jeonghan gently patted the top of your thigh, nodding along exaggeratedly, “You borrowed your friend’s clothes! I see!”

He studied you while you giggled at his antics, still refusing to look him in the eye, really. He was almost suffocating, his hand on your thigh and his eyes boring into your face, and his cologne in a constant stream in and out of your nostrils. But suffocation, you decided, was almost better than being around Seokmin and having him parade his kind heart and his thick arms and his sweet smile, and just how off-limits he was.

Ripping you from your thoughts, Jeonghan stood up, placing both hands on the tops of your thighs and bending down to your face, so his nose was buried in your cheek.

“Look at me, darling,” he whispered, then pulled his face away from yours, just enough so you could gaze into his brown eyes. His hands were much higher now, squeezing hard at the plush of your thighs, dangerously close to your center and only separated by the thin fabric of Giselle’s dress.

“There she is,” Jeonghan smiled, voice a whisper. His lashes came over his eyes, when they flitted down to your lips. “Don’t you wanna come with me upstairs, and I can make you feel really, really goo-”

“JEONGHAN! GET OFF OF HER, THAT IS MY BEST FRIEND’S BABY SISTER!”

There’s a voice you know.

From across the room, Seokmin had burst through the mass of people, now power-posing with an extended finger in the direction of where Jeonghan was tilting over you, rubbing your thighs, as you sat innocently before him.

Jeonghan stood up, taking all of his heat and his suffocation and cologne with him, groaning and throwing his head back. “Seokmin!” he whined and he was suddenly no longer so suave and seductive.

“No, I won’t hear it, Jeonghan,” Seokmin said and, as much as you knew Seokmin to be sweet and tender and lovely, there was this crystal-clear anger in his voice. He walked over, one large hand pushing at Jeonghan. “Go get any other girl and sleep with her, just not her. Get your sorry ass out of here.”

Apparently Jeonghan sensed the same thing you did - a rare anger in Seokmin - because he didn’t put up much of a fight at all, only smiled at you apologetically (and then, when he was behind Seokmin, gave you a small, devious wink - he just couldn’t help himself).

You couldn’t focus much on Jeonghan at all though. Because Seokmin was standing in front of you, all muscle and huge fucking thighs by your head, and when you dared to tilt your gaze up to him, you saw how all that anger simply melted away.

“Hey,” he breathed, smiling softly.

“Hey.”

Then his eyes darkened, if only for a moment, as they traveled over your figure, gift-wrapped in that tight, black dress. His jaw clenched and he looked around for a moment. When he looked at you once more, he was giving you that smile - the one you’d fallen in love with - and the chocolate in his eyes was melting.

“Come on,” he ushered gently, one hand carefully guiding you off the couch. “Let’s go to my room where there aren’t any scary, evil, mean men.”

Despite being so on edge, so jittery, as you followed him up some distant staircase, you couldn’t help but laugh at those words. He was talking exactly like he had when you were kids. That was how you preferred to remember him; all small and young and with a swanky bowl cut, and he’s the exact same way with you, hand warm in yours, as he guides you through the house.

“Why’re you laughing?” he smiled, and you suppressed your own, trying not to dwell too much on how fast your heart was beating. “It’s just like before,” you quipped and Seokmin’s hand squeezed yours in understanding.

He lumbered down the hallway and at its very end, preceded by rows of white oak doors, he opened his own with a twist and a turn of the brass-blend knob. When he closed it, the party became muffled around you, as if his room was filled with water, and now the rest of the world was a garbled mess, and you were drowning.

His room was clean. You supposed Seokmin had never been the messy type - not even when infected by the influence of Vernon. He had a half-open closet, where you spotted folded clothes, and a circle rug and purple and green lava-lamp plugged in on his nightstand.

Seokmin apparently did not think it was clean enough, because he swooped down gallantly to grab a tossed sweater, smiling at you sheepishly when he held in between his fingers. You stared at him.

You felt like a kid again. Felt like just a young girl, creeping through the crack in the living room door, and looking at his silhouette, outlined by some grotesque horror movie playing on the TV. His sharp nose, when he turned to Vernon and laughed, his hair, all poofed and tousled and scruffy, and his smile.

And you’d let yourself fall into this trap, maybe to some extent you’d even wanted it. Because now he was right in front of you, and so was that damned barrier, right by your outstretched fingertips, and you could almost envision yourself climbing over it - climbing into his lap and-

“I didn’t think you’d ever come,” Seokmin said gently, a permanent, small smile frozen on his lips. You coughed, unready. “Uh, yeah, my friend- my friend thought I should try and.. You know, get myself out there.”

Seokmin studied you, bemused and fond, fiddling with the baby blue sweater in his hands. You were looking back cautiously, as if assessing a threat, but the threat was the sweetest, kindest boy in the whole wide world.

“Yeah, well,” he cleared his throat suddenly, ripping his gaze from you to fold the sweater onto his desk chair. “I’m sorry about Jeonghan, he’s.. You shouldn’t, uh..” Now neatly folded, you saw him rubbing the sweater between his fingers. “You should stay away from him.”

“Why?” you asked, and it was genuine enough that Seokmin let out a sigh.

“You’re too much of a good girl to be with him. He’s no good.”

A whimper clawed its way up your throat, bubbled from the depths of your belly, but you tamed it and settled on a light hum. You felt your underwear becoming a little sticky, and you wanted to die, because God, this was your brother’s best friend. They still facetimed every Tuesday and still played Fortnite together over Discord every Saturday.

“College going good?” Seokmin asked, retreating from the sweater to sit down on his bed. He looked up at you brightly and patted the spot next to him. It felt like another trap, where the folds in the blanket curved down under his weight, and would eventually lead you into him. You sat down hesitantly.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, folding your hands and in your lap and tensing your shoulders. Seokmin, fully relaxed and slumped, noted your posture and slid his hand over the exposed skin of your back. “Hey,” he whispered, so intimate it hurt your heart, “hey, hey, relax, Y/n. It’s just me.”

His eyes were soft and full of concern when he spoke quietly again, his voice almost a backdrop to the muffled sounds of dancing college students: “You know, Vernon was really concerned about how you would do away from home.”

“I’m not doing bad!” you said quickly, dismissing it immediately. Seokmin stared at you. “I just- this isn’t really my scene.”

His hand felt searing hot on your back, where it slid up and down, almost coaxing you further into him. He hummed. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

Then: “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to come. Just figured you might want that street cred of being friends with the upperclassmen.”

You snorted and, cheeks rosy as ever, started giggling, eyes still cemented to the floor. Your hair was falling gently over your face, wisps of baby hair tickling your forehead.

“It’s okay,” you sighed away the laughter, “You were just trying to get me out of my shell. I appreciate it.”

Seokmin smiled at that. His hand dropped from your back and you both stared into the expanse of his room. A small window to let in the rain, the moonlight separated by the grid, and the curtain blowing in a solemn breeze. You and Seokmin sat, both very small suddenly, like kids, on the edge of the bed and became speckled in starlight, in diamond-dust.

Then Seokmin was doing it. He was letting you be comfortable, letting you slip into a dazed joy, intoxicated from his presence. He was asking about your teachers, exams, friends, experiences, and you were both laughing together, and once again you were forgetting that Seokmin was your brother’s best friend, and he was not with you for you, but he was simply talking to you out of courtesy to your brother. He let you forget.

“You going home for the break?” he asked then, room quieted down from all the laughter. The fall break, starting tomorrow, you remembered. You’d thought about going home, but had opted to text your parents that you were staying, wanting honestly to stay in your dorm room and work on assignments and organization and just lull in bed, instead of being taken up, down and everywhere in your hometown. You shook your head.

“Really? Me neither,” he said, brows raised. “Won’t you get lonely?”

You giggled shyly. “Maybe a little.”

“We could hang out,” he breathed, and at that you tasted the boundary between you, felt it firm under your fingertips, because you couldn’t discern whether he was protecting his friend’s baby sister or if he actually liked talking to you, and your heart beat and yearned and hoped for the latter.

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded, melting when you saw his smile reach his eyes.

“Didn’t you always like, uh, Mario Kart? You always wanted to play with me and Vern,” Seokmin said, but he was looking distantly into the window. You almost wanted to cry because he remembered you, remembered things that you liked. “I got it on my Playstation, we can play tomorrow.”

“I’d like that,” you said.

Then Seokmin was loaning you his hoodie, and, bathed in his warm, tender smell, he followed you home under the moon, glaring at Jeonghan on his way out.

“Keep the hoodie,” he’d said, smiling sheepishly when you stood in front of your dorm door. “It’s cute.”

He patted your head and left, thankfully before he could see how red your face was, and how you were absolutely about to blow up from unfiltered joy. You shuffled into your dorm room and tried to soothe the basking butterflies in your stomach and your burning heart.

Was he standing right across from you on that line, waiting to cross? _____________________________

Giselle woke up just early enough to catch you switching between different button-up dresses, throwing one on, looking in the mirror, and deciding to try another. She was groggy and tired and somewhat hungover, and needed to catch a train, so she could get back home.

“What are you doing?” she cried, rubbing her eyes. You scurried back and forth trying on another dress, considering white tights, then white socks, then adjusting the tone and volume of your blush.

“I’m-” you gasped in between your hard labor, “I’m seeing a boy!”

This caught Giselle’s attention. She shot straight up in her bed and looked at you with huge eyes. “No way!”

“Yeah way!” you giggled deviously. You turned around to face her. “What do you think of this outfit?”

“You look cute!” Giselle praised, nodding to your red strawberry dress and your knee-highs. You slumped. There it was again - cute. Not hot, not pretty, but cute. That was what you were; like a child, like the kid Seokmin knew years ago, like his best friend’s baby sister. Nothing more.

“Who is this mystery guy?” Apparently Giselle was too busy rubbing sleep out of her eyes to see how her compliment had deflated you.

“It’s Seokmin. My-”

“Your brother’s best friend?!” She gasped. It was one shock after another from you that morning. “I wanna say I’m disappointed in you, but.. If you pull this off you’re way freakier than me.”

“We’re not gonna have sex!” you groaned, pouting as you hastily shoved on your shoes. “We’re gonna play Mario Kart.”

“Right, this cute guy just invited you over for Mario Kart and nothing else, I get it,” Giselle said sarcastically.

“You don’t know him,” you mumbled defensively, shoes on and now staring at yourself in the mirror once more. “Cute,” the mirror spat at you.

“All men are the same,” Giselle rolled her eyes and threw herself back on the bed. You snorted and began to walk out the door.

“Y/n, wait!”

“Hm?”

Halfway out the door, a tote bag slung over your shoulder and ready to step into the sunlight, you peered back into the room. Giselle, in her sweats and hair fussed, stumbled blindly towards the door. She reached into her pocket and produced a-

“A condom?!” you shrieked, outraged. And not just any condom: a condom in white packaging with the lettering “I ❤️ DILFS”. You truly did not understand how Giselle managed to be a caricature of herself time after time.

“You need to wear protection, he’s in a frat, right?” she shrugged. You glared at her. “I’m not bringing a condom.”

“Alright, I guess,-” Giselle pretended to think, “I guess, you’ll just have to get chlamydia.”

You stared at her for a moment, bristling. Then you snatched it out of her outstretched hand.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re a prude.”

“Goodbye, Giselle!”

The condom slipped into your tote with ease to lay snug with all your other items and then you were out the door and heading towards Seokmin’s frat house. The sun was dulled by a few clouds, but it was still shining. Leaves were turning brown and red and yellow and were falling from trees to crunch underfoot - everything was lovely.

But the expanse, in your head, was much different. In your head you were traveling the soft dunes of a desert, spotting in the brown and red and yellow horizon a cleft in the sand. When you reached it, wide and long, seemingly endless to each side of you, you were standing right in front of Seokmin’s house.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, knuckles white where you grasped your tote, and eyes big and heart pounding. What if Giselle was right? Did you want her to be right? Would you even be able to please him if she was? Half-heartedly you tried to push away the images of Seokmin pushing into you, arms flexing on either side of your head, that spawned alongside the thought. Maybe you straddling him, his hands on your ass, his head buried in your chest, or-

“Y/N!”

You jumped, clutching your bag tight, when you snapped your head up to the voice. It was Seokmin and he was waving at you from his upstairs-window, smiling so brightly you swore the sun reflected off of his teeth.

“What are you standing there for, come inside! Door’s unlocked!” he yelled, body disappearing in the window. You stared at the window for a moment, his presence now absent, before you nodded to yourself in reassurance. You could do this, right? Just Mario Kart and small talk.

Truth was, you couldn’t do this. Not even in the slightest. You and Seokmin sat cross-legged on his bed, TV on the wall before it, drinking soda and crunching on chips. Seokmin was drenched in a green, fuzzy sweater, collarbones peeking over the rounded neck, and fingers peeking through the sleeves, where he held his controller, and God forbid, his hair was all soft and fluffy, and he was wearing fucking puppy socks.

And he was competitive, too. He was leaned forward, eyes narrowed as he sped through the course. You huffed when he blue-shelled you, and you tried to refocus.

“I thought you said you were good?” he teased, eyes leaving the screen for only a second to look at you - you, dress bunched up to your thighs and tongue peeking through your pretty, subtly red lips. A second was all that was necessary.

Suddenly, his character (baby Daisy) swerved off-course, falling into the pit below and he screeched, seemingly genuinely sad, as your character (Toadette) overtook him, the little gold badge popping up in the corner to tell you that you were number one.

“What were you saying?” you giggled cockily when you finished the last round, Seokmin unable to quite catch up to you in the last stretch. He threw himself back on the bed in defeat, groaning into his hand.

“I can’t believe I let you win,” he cried.

“Let me?” you repeated in disbelief. You scoffed and put down the controller, pretending that Seokmin lying all angelic on his bed sheets wasn’t making your stomach pinch with static. “Pretty sure that was just pure skill on my part. Don’t blame me because you’re bad at Mario Kart.”

A blow to his talents in Mario Kart was a blow to him. He snapped his head up to look at you, playfully angry. “Oh, oh wow, really? I’m bad at Mario Kart now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, smiling cheekily at him. Seokmin studied you for a moment, before he shuffled into a sitting position. His gaze almost made you shy. Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him?

Seokmin shuffled closer to you and you almost stopped breathing: “Don’t I remember you being ticklish?”

You were almost so caught up in your fantasy to realize what he said. Your eyes widened in realization and you most immediately tried to twist your body away: a punishment was upon you.

“No- NO!-” You cried out but it was too late. Seokmin wrestled his body into yours, fingers dancing and prodding into your sides. Drowning in laughter, your face twisted into tortured pleasure, as you tried to bat his hands away. Your attempts were futile - each time you shuffled away, he followed right with you, fingers unrelenting as your torso twisted and turned.

"Hehehehehehe- NO, PLEASE!- hehehehehehe!”

Your knees pushed with all their might and you were almost able to drag yourself to the edge of the bed. There, you could gain distance and talk him down from beyond his desk. But Seokmin was smart. He sensed your escape plan when you squirmed away, and without much thought, he pulled his body on top of yours, weight pinning you down.

You were still giggling and squirming, when his fingers finally let up. You were both panting from the excitement, Seokmin smiling down at you adoringly. Then, both of your smiles dropped.

It was like it took a few moments to realize; he was straddling you. Hips pushed into yours, all his weight rested on your crotch - your crotch, which was now pulsating. To make matters worse, the skirt of your dress had ridden up and most of your plush thighs were now visible to him, and your chest was halfway out of your dress, and your cheeks were flushed and your hair was spread out on the sheets beneath you. Seokmin seemed unsure of where to put his hands, while you both stared at each other, breathing in the thick, heavy silence.

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, I-”

“I really- I don’t know what-”

“Don’t worry-”

You were pulling down your dress again, cheeks literally flaming red and bottom lip caught between your teeth. Silence swallowed you both whole.

You wanted him back on your hips so bad. It hurt. You were aching in quick pulses, but you couldn’t even look at him. Surely, you thought, surely, he’d seen that look on your face, how your eyes clouded over with lust. Maybe he felt disgusted.

“I better-” you hiccupped, voice small, “I better go.”

Seokmin, eyes peeking at you through his lashes, feared he made you uncomfortable.

“Yeah, of course,” he mumbled.

You gathered your things and ran out of there, wetness gushing out of you. You tried to run, tried to create distance, but this time, in your mind’s eye, you ran in place, staying completely still by the cleft separating you and Seokmin. You fiddled with the edge, sand cascading into the empty, endless dark.

There was no way you could make that jump.

That night you wished Giselle was by your side. You wrote an assignment, trying to ward off the embarrassment that stormed in your brain, when you got a message, that plunged you into rock bottom:

Lee Seokmin: hey you forgot smth at my house lol

Lee Seokmin: *Image Attached*

This was it. You were going to jump off a bridge (or a cleft in a dry, sandy wasteland).

As if your life couldn’t get anymore embarrassing: it was the condom. The white condom with “I ❤️ DILFS” on it. You damned that woman for ever making you bring it. What must he have thought of you? His best friend’s little sister trying to get in his pants? Your cheeks were burning and you threw your head into your pillow and screeched. Your life was over. It had simply ended now. There was no coming back from this. You huffed and removed yourself from its plushness.

Maybe you could salvage it? Thinking on your feet, you replied:

You: OMG i’m so sorry!!!! i think that’s my roommate’s, she must’ve put it in my bag… :/

You: I’ll come pick it up ASAP :((((

You stared at your phone at the blatant. It was not a far stretch from the truth, but being caught with your hand in the cookie jar - or maybe more so the I ❤️ DILFS condom in your tote bag - it seemed like an irrationally shitty cover up.

You gnawed at your lip when the three dots popped up next to his picture, and bit it to pieces waiting for his reply. You almost jumped when your phone buzzed:

Lee Seokmin: hahahahaha

Lee Seokmin: you can come pick it up tomorrow if u want? theres no rush

You glared at the message. Laughter? Surely he hadn’t bought it. He was just trying to be nice, just trying to avoid you any embarrassment. The thought made you wanna throw up, how he felt this obligation to be nice to you when you had permanently scarred him (were you being dramatic?).

You: ok. im rlly sorry again!! i’ll pick it up tomorrow _____________________________

Tomorrow came much faster than you had hoped. No amount of tossing and turning could slow down the passage of time, and by the time you received Seokmin’s promised “I’m awake”-message, the embarrassment hadn’t faded one bit.

Every discouraged moment of getting ready was haunted by your current situation, and you stopped to cringe every five seconds, causing an honest and diligent self-hatred to bubble within you. When you knocked on Seokmin’s door, you’d honestly never felt less confident in your life.

“Y/n!” he said enthusiastically.

“Seokmin,” you said, less enthusiastic.

He smiled at you sweetly, almost as sympathetically, before stepping aside. You furrowed your brow, not really understanding why he couldn’t just hand it to you at the door, but stepping inside nonetheless. “It’s in my room,” he offered, but could he not just have brought it with him? Did he have to prolong the shame even further? You followed him to his room.

In that moment you hated Seokmin for being who he was; for being sweet, gentle, caring, and gentlemanly. You would feel less pathetic if he yelled at you, if he was genuinely disgusted and wanted nothing to do with you. But there he was all smiling and supportive, and he wasn’t touching you at all, but he still felt like pillars on your back, soothing you and holding you up.

“It was your roommate’s?” he asked absently as you traversed the halls. “Uh, yeah,” you answered sheepishly.

“I can tell,” he threw his head back to you, and there was a huge grin on his face. A little bit of hope blossomed in your chest. “Yeah, I saw her at that party, you know? I think she slept with, uh, my friend, Minghao.”

“That’ll be her,” you were smiling now too, and a huge wave of relief washed over you, as he at least let you believe that he thought it wasn’t your perversion bringing along that condom.

Finally stumbling into his room, he did indeed pick it up from his desk, handing it back to you. You looked at it in his outstretched hand and blushed sheepishly. “Thanks,” you squeaked.

Seokmin nodded in response. For a moment the two of you stood, uncertain of what to do and caught in the web of a terribly awkward silence. Seokmin’s eyes darted to the window and yours to the floor.

“Hey, uh,” he giggled a little, scratching the back of his head. “I feel really bad for losing that Mario Kart game-”

You scoffed in response, but the facade of being peeved was falling apart, as you beamed up at him.

“Maybe we could do, like, a quick rematch?”

You shrugged, trying to be nonchalant with an ever-heavy flush in your cheeks: “I don’t back away from a challenge.”

Seokmin won the rematch. This only spurred on another rematch, and suddenly there was no end to the madness. This time there was no awkwardness, no lingering silences. You were just giggling and strategizing, and throwing heat in the direction of your opponents.

That uncomfortable, clamoring feeling left you, slowly. It became easy to forget it. That feeling that he was only there with you because of Vernon, that there was always some sort of demand, a twisting hand, forcing him upon you, and that you became a sort of burden on him. That was the thing about Seokmin, though, his ability to make you feel like his best friend; his ability to make him feel like he was there for you, even when he wasn’t.

It was only after an hour and a half or so, when Seokmin paused the game.

“What the hell, Lee? I was just about to beat you!” you whined, crossing your arms. He nodded along, pushing himself off the bed. “Yes, I agree, which is why I’ve assessed that I need a refreshment.”

“Oh, you’ve assessed?”

“Yeah, I’ve assessed that I need a fresh, cooling drink in my gullet.”

You both laughed a little and slumped back, dropping the controller. Seokmin smiled at you, eyes twinkling. “You want one?”

“What are you getting?”

“A beer,” Seokmin said. Rationally, you knew you shouldn’t accept. You were bad with alcohol, and everytime you drank just a little, a little easily became a lot. That was why you took yourself by surprise when your voice left your mouth, chipper and grand: “Sure!”

One beer turned into another, and Mario Kart turned into talking on his bed, slumped into his fortress of pillows and giggling at his stories. You were a little tipsy, halfway into your second beer and your face was flushed and Seokmin was lying on his side, hand propped up under his head, as he made you laugh again.

“Your kind of partying sounds… Extreme,” you murmured, rim of the bottle pushed against your lips where your words slightly slurred. Mario Kart and alcohol had gotten you a little out of your shell, and now you and Seomin were talking like friends - as if your brother didn’t even exist. You basked in the alcoholic buzz and in this reality, this hideout, where your lovely brother didn’t exist and the faint ache in your legs at Seokmin’s godly face in the bedside lamp wasn’t so utterly misplaced.

“I think anything’s more extreme than your partying,” Seokmin mused teasingly. You huffed, putting down your beer and smoothing over your skirt. Everything was so lovely and artificially yellow and his body beside yours radiated pleasant heat. He was beautiful, you thought, looking at how the sweaters pooled on his torso and how his brown hair looked so soft and messy. You almost felt the absence of ground beneath you, when you imagined yourself at the cleft again.

“You don’t know about my kind of partying,” you joked and he chuckled softly. “You’re right, I shouldn’t make assumptions.”

You looked at him and he was suddenly serious. The smiley, gooey Seokmin was gone and his eyes, although not threatening at all, were prodding at you. Your smile fell. The alcohol at this time felt misplaced and wrong, the lightness felt wrong.

“Were you gonna, you know, go with Jeonghan at the party?” he whispered. The world was suddenly very quiet, as if it were following Seokmin’s tact. You grimaced a little. “No. No, not really.”

He studied you. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, opting to look at your hands in your lap. “Why not?”

A pause.

You began to pick at your own fingertips, nails digging into the cuticles. Seokmin’s eyes dragged from your face to your hands, and he scooted closer to you, only to cover your hand with his, stopping your movements immediately. Suddenly so close, his voice was whispered right in your ear, so soft and so gentle, it felt like a kiss: “Don’t do that.”

You sucked in a breath, hands ripping to your sides to lay stiff. “I’m, uh, I’m not that experienced, so I..”

Your eyes flicked up to gauge his reaction. In your worst nightmares, you imagined a laugh breaking onto his face, maybe disgust, but you felt yourself melting. He looked at you so softly, like you were the most precious, fragile thing and his hand had stilled in the air after you pushed it off, as if, like the most enchanting artwork at a museum, he fought desperately not to reach out and touch you.

It was unbearable - how still the air had become, how heavy you felt, how your chest struggled to expand. You talked again, if only to fill the air with your babbling: “I’ve not had.. I mean, I can hardly get myself off… So. I probably. Couldn’t. Get him off.”

You realized about halfway through your sentence that you should not have said that. That last half of your sentence was a breathy mess, as your voice became shaky with humiliation. His gaze, a delicate constant, was not helping either. You felt tears welling up in your eyes suddenly and maybe that was the worst part.

“You have trouble getting yourself off?” he repeated, as if to make sure. “Like masturba-”

“Yeah, that,” you squeezed your eyes shut. You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to shut up forever, so you’d never have to know his reaction, or if you wanted him to talk and be able to sense how this information changed his perception of you. His voice came, in spite of whatever you had hoped.

“I figured you were a virgin,” he mumbled, voice half muted by the palm of his hand, “but I thought you at least masturbated-”

“I do!” you defended yourself, voice much louder than his and brows furrowing and tears threatening to spill over your eyes. “I’m just- I’m not that good at it.”

“Hey,” he said softly, hand landing on your arm. You immediately shut up, lip trembling when you struggled to meet his eyes. “Relax, Y/n. It’s okay. I’m not judging you.”

You nodded half-heartedly, still incredibly uneasy.

“If you want…” Seokmin’s voice trailed off. His eyes ventured over your form briefly, licking his lips. “You know, if you want, I could teach you.”

You looked at him silently. He seemed to snap out of whatever loopy trance he had been sucked into, because he was suddenly very jittery and scrambling through the bedsheets. “Uh, I mean- you don’t- God, I’m sorry- it was only if-”

“Yes,” you said. His scrambling stilled immediately. His eyes were teacups.

“You sure?”

You nodded, not trusting your own voice.

Seokmin squeezed his eyes shut, gulping as he sat back against the bed. His legs spread apart. “Come here,” he patted his thighs.

You felt terribly sober. All that buzz and butterflies and blaze and blossom was gone and you felt like a doll, moving each limb individually, as you climbed into his lap, back to him. You were unable to think, unable to truly process what was happening, what it meant, as you felt his form engulf yours.

His hands found purchase on your hips and his breath was warm on your neck, as you felt every ridge of his abdomen on your back. His thumbs rubbed against your hip bone.

“Okay, now show me how you usually do it,” his voice was a warm hum, a twinge of nervousness laced in it. Your face was lit ablaze and you squirmed in his hold, when one hand left your hip to gently push your legs apart. You sat, all open and held against him, dress keeping you covered.

“It’s embarrassing,” you huffed, being very serious, but Seokmin smiled and nosed your hair gently.

“We can stop whenever you want, seriously, if you get uncomfortable, we stop” he reassured.

“It’s just me.”

It was. It was just Seokmin, your brothers best friend, the sweetest boy in the world, who used to have a swanky bowl cut and dorky school uniform and who was always Vernon’s most respectful friend, but he was hot and whispering into your ear and one hand was massaging the outside of your thigh.

“Should I take my dress off?” you breathed, face turned halfway back to him. His hands squeezed at you in response and you could faintly make out his tongue sliding over his lips.

“Only if you want, angel,” he whispered back, rubbing your sides tenderly. “We’re not doing anything you don’t want. Whatever makes you feel good. ‘M just here to help.”

You nodded, and although the answer was maybe made to make you keep your dress on - a reassurance that there was no need to discard it - you removed yourself from his grasp, hands coming to tug your dress off. You felt a small boost of confidence when you heard Seokmin breathe out: “Shit.”

Only in your bra and panties (terribly mismatched, your bra was black and your panties were pink), you leaned back into his hold, and you noted how Seokmin’s warm hands were much more careful now, splaying out on your bare skin.

“Are you comfortable now?” he asked quietly. You nodded. He propped his head up on your shoulder, eyes cast down your almost-nude body, chest rising and falling. Your legs were closed again, he noticed, and his veiny hand reached down to open them again. “Show me how you do it, baby, so I can help you improve.”

You gummed your lip, breathing in one last time, before your nervous fingers began dancing their way to your panties. They disappeared under the fabric for only a moment, before Seokmin spoke again.

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, hand wrapping around your wrist to stop its track. “Don’t just dive right in, you need to get yourself all hot first.”

Your brows furrowed and some of the embarrassment you felt from being this exposed and pressed into Seokmin evaporated into genuine confusion.

“What? What do you mean?” you said, somewhat outraged, and Seokmin couldn’t help the laughter blooming in his chest at that. He vibrated against your back, hands smoothing down your arm. You pouted: “Don’t laugh at me, Minnie.”

He stopped, still smiling as he nosed your temple. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head, that had your heart beating out of your chest. “You’re just so cute.”

Cute. You remembered your disdain for that word, but somehow, when it came from his lips, it made you beam. Everywhere he touched left behind a hot, burning ghost on your skin.

“You just have to touch your body, sweetheart,” he said sweetly. You thrashed in defiance, crying out quietly with red cheeks. Wiggling your body angrily, you felt his dick half-hard in his pants against your lower back.

“Can’t you do it?” you whined, wanting nothing more than for him to take over and make you feel good. He sucked in a harsh breath behind you, fingers wrapping around your hands to soothe you still. He seemed to debate your proposal, but eventually he kissed your shoulder and spoke: “Okay, baby, but you have to show me you understand, alright?” you nodded feverishly. “We’re trying to get you to learn.”

The whole thing had you dizzy, warm and gooey in his hands, and grounding yourself on his solid torso. You had tunnel vision, unable to focus on anything but his warm hands and sweet voice, and how fucking hard he was. You leaned your head up to look at him pleadingly. Even upside-down he was pretty. He giggled at your starstruck expression.

“Look at my hands, pretty,” he tapped your nose and you scrunched it, turning down to your own body, where he sat his hands on your waist. “You do it like this.”

His hands started dragging over your skin, creating constellations of ghosts on your skin. One dragged across your stomach and down your leg, squeezing it along the way, and the other brushed over your bra-covered chest, landing on your shoulder and collarbones. Then they moved oppositely, then diverged from their chosen paths, and you started breathing heavily. Pressure built up in your stomach and your panties, and you felt how slick started leaking out of you.

“Feel good?” Seokmin grinned against your neck, listening to the melody of your panted gasps. You nodded earnestly, moaning softly. Seokmin furrowed his brows at that noise, pressing kisses to your neck appreciatively. “Good girl. Such pretty sounds.”

Both of Seokmin’s hands dragged up to your ribs. There, they paused. “Can I touch your chest, baby?”

“Please,” you whimpered, and earned another sloppy kiss to the cheek. His hands immediately grabbed ahold of your chest, softly rubbing it over your bra.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered. You hesitated for a moment. “Um, I don’t feel much, honestly.”

You’d expect him to be a little angry or defensive, but Seokmin only hummed and nustled himself into your hair. “Good girl. Good girl, being so honest with me. So pretty.”

You whined at his praise and Seokmin smiled smugly, taking notice of how heated you got from his words.

“The- the fabric is in the way..” you whimpered meekly, and Seokmin nodded in understanding, stroking your sides soothingly.

“You want to take off your bra?” he hummed, truly as if it would not expose you to him, as if it weren’t a lewd and depraved scenario, but something as simple as the weather. You nodded, removing yourself from the harbor of his arms once more to remove it. You unclipped it and threw it God knows where, before settling back into him. Seokmin peeked over your shoulder at your now bare breasts, groaning a little and covering it up with a cough. This was about you.

Seokmin placed his hands on your tits again, massaging and rubbing the soft skin, before he brushed his thumbs over your hardened nipples.

You moaned - for the first time it was a clear moan, seething from your throat and puffing into the air. “Sound so pretty,” he muttered in your ear. “You really like that, hm?”

He pinched your nipples between his fingers, your back arching into his warm hands. Then, as soon as the pleasure had begun, it stopped, when his hands came to rest on the bed. You whined, twisting your head towards his, only to be stopped by fingers on your chin, turning you back forward. “Show me you can do it now, baby. You’re learning,” he reminded you.

“But, Minnie, I want your hands,” you whined and he tutted softly in your ear. “I know, baby, but I need to know that you’re understanding this in that pretty little head of yours. Need to know you’re focusing. Come on, show me now.”

Huffing, you placed your own hands (they somehow felt more foreign than his now) on your stomach and began to mimic his movements. You smoothed them up and down on your body, squeezing, then placed them on your chest, rubbing and pinching your nipples.

“There you go,” he praised, and his hands had traveled to your shoulders, massaging them gently. You whimpered and turned your head to him again.

“Can you teach me how to touch my…” you trailed off.

“Your pussy?” he offered, as if it was nothing, as if it wasn’t vulgar or lewd. You nodded vigorously. Feeling him gulp a little, his hands became a little unsteady as they came to hold your waist again. “Can I hear you say it? Baby?” he asked and suddenly his voice was a little shaky, a little breathless.

“Can you touch my pussy now, Minnie?” you asked, and any shame had been clouded over with lust. You’d never been this burningly bothered in your life, you needed him to touch you. He groaned, and this time he was unable to cover it up. You felt how his hard cock strained against his sweatpants, how it pressed into your back, and you wanted to touch it so bad.

“Alright, baby, want your panties off?” His sharp nose was pressed into your hair. You shook your head. “Want them on.”

He nodded. “Alright, jus’ tell me if you wanna stop, okay? I’m gonna touch you now.”

His hand slipped under the waistband of your panties, disappearing under the pink fabric. As if they were always meant to be there, his fingers slipped through your folds, coming down to circle your slit in impossibly light figurations.

“Shit,” he panted, grip on your waist suddenly bruising, as he tried to steady himself. “You’re so wet, baby, you like Seokminnie that much?”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded blindly, your own hands coming to grip onto his thighs. His middle finger danced upwards and pressed against your clit, and you immediately squeaked and shut your legs around his hand.

“No, no, baby, don’t do that,” he frowned, hand that wasn’t buried in your pussy spreading your legs again. You felt how his legs, pressed against you, came to hook onto yours, forcing your legs apart with his own strength. He hummed in content.

His finger pressed onto your clit again, and he felt how your legs tensed, straining against his to close. Your back arched and you moaned, eyes squeezed shut. He began rubbing it, and it was so intimate, how close you were to him, how his hand navigated your sopping wet pussy, fingers just rubbing you gently, and how bare you were, his eyes training over your bouncing tits when you thrashed.

His fingers moved downwards again, gathering the wetness that was gushing out of you. Then, one long middle finger pushed into you. Canting into his hand, you moaned loudly and turned your head into his neck. Nosing the tan skin and inhaling his faint cologne, you began mindlessly kitten-licking the skin. His Adam's apple bopped under your tongue.

“You’re so tight,” he rasped, beginning to slowly push his finger in and out of you. His other hand had come to wrap around your waist in an attempt to calm the sudden bucking of your hips against his hand.

His hand moved faster, obscene, wet sounds coming from your ruined underwear, where he worked diligently into your pussy. He slipped another finger in, and you cried from the stretch. It was becoming hard to contain you, thrashing and writhing against his hold, stuck between wanting to move closer and to move away entirely. His fingers tied a knot in your stomach.

“That’s right, pretty, tell me how good Minnie’s fingers feel,” he whispered hoarsely above your ear. You could almost only whine and moan, nipping at his neck a little. “Tell me or I’ll stop,” he warned.

“Feels so good!” you whined immediately, because if he stopped now, you figured you might start crying. “Feel so, so, so good, fuck, Seokmin, I’m-”

“I know, baby, I know, but I’m teaching you, right?”

Though your mind was fuzzy, you sensed what these words meant and panicked, hand coming down to grip his wrist in an attempt to hold him in place. “Please, please, please, Seokmin, don’t stop, please, don’t stop!”

“Don’t talk back to me, sweetheart. I won’t stop, just talk to me. Tell me what you feel me doing,” pushing your head up again, Seokmin pressed his face against your cheek, so hard, you felt his humid pants against it.

Your mind was so hazy, so transfixed on the feeling in your stomach and his finger in your pussy, you could hardly respond.

“Tell me or I’ll stop, baby,” he reminded you again, and you scrambled frantically to focus.

“Nngh! You’re- pushing in and out-” your voice broke, hips stuttering against his hand, that was continuing its remorseless pace.

“Yeah, and?”

You furrowed your brows, lips trembling. “You’re- you’re curling them- A-ah!”

“That’s right. Such a good girl. So smart and clever for me,” Seokmin whispered happily, his other hand slipping down your stomach to circle your clit. Both his hands working pleasure into your pussy, you cried out loudly, head pushed back into his chest.

“Just let go, baby, I can feel you clenching on me so hard. Wan’ me to stay in your pussy forever, hm? Just let go, cum whenever you want, wanna see your pretty face so bad,” somehow Seokmin was just as intoxicated off of lust as you, despite staying, hard and untouched, in his pants. But he babbled mindless praise to you, and you came to his sweet voice whispering in your ear.

Your orgasm sent you hurdling over the edge - the edge, the one you’d been standing at hopelessly for years. You flew across it and landed on Seokmin’s territory; in his arms.

“Seokmin, a-ah!” you cried, releasing all over his fingers, coating them in your cum. Your entire body arched upwards, as you moaned into the night. Seokmin rode you through your high, pressing sweet kisses into your hair.

You fell limp against his body, worn out, when he finally retracted his fingers from your pussy. You snuggled into his sweater with a content hum.

Seokmin smiled down at you, eyes brimming with fondness, as his cum-slicked hands wrapped around your torso in a hug, holding you into him. “You did so well,” he whispered genuinely.

You looked up at him with a tired smile. “Thank you, Seokmin.”

He held himself back from saying he would do that a thousand times over, in fact, he wouldn’t mind never pulling out - he could live with only one hand. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered: “Of course, darling.”

Your brows furrowed and you pulled yourself away from him a little, eyeing the tent in his pants worriedly. “Do you want me to-”

“No,” he shook his head decidedly. “No, I’ll take care of it.”

You looked at him with big, innocent eyes, that only furthered the throbbing of his cock. Partially, he wanted to give in so badly. The thought of your hand around his cock, all pouty and innocent and confused, and how heavy it would be in your small hand, had made him cum more times than he’d like to admit. But, he reminded himself, this was about you. This was a favor. “Are you sure?” you asked softly.

“Yes, baby, go to bed. I’m gonna go get you some fresh clothes.”

You snuggled into bed while Seokmin scurried away to fetch a shirt and some boxers, and when he came back you cooperated limply in taking off your panties, and putting on what he’d given you. You fell asleep in his bed, cuddling his duvet, and surrounded by his scent.

Seokmin watched you in adoration. How peaceful you looked, chest rising and falling, and a little pout on your lips.

He wandered through the house, trying simultaneously to get as far from you as possible, and also trying to decide which of his housemates he currently hated the most. He landed on Jeonghan, slipping into his empty room and settling himself on the bed.

There, he fisted his solid fucking cock and bucked into his own hand, eyes squeezed shut to remember how you looked under his hands, how you begged for him, how well you listened, what a good girl you were for him. His moans were trembling and muffled by his own hand, and when he came, he felt momentarily smug, looking at how it dripped over Jeonghan’s sheets (served him right). Then, post-nut clarity sank in, as he reentered his own room and cuddled into you on the bed.

He felt almost despicable. He felt gross and evil and perverted and lewd, not because of you, but because, as if it were his first time realizing it, he remembered that you were Vernon’s sister. He remembered that he had promised to protect you from manipulative guys and always watch over you, and help you if you needed help, and report to Vernon if you were acting weird. Yet here he was, letting you cum on his hand and groping your tits, as if he was still that teenage boy with that swanky bowl cut.

After an hour of chewing on his lips and frowning, Seokmin let your sweet perfume lull him to sleep. He dreamt of you. _____________________________

There’s a blissful instant that morning when you wake up, curled into Seokmin’s arms, head nuzzled in his chest. There’s a blissful instant when you tilt your head, staring at his sleeping face, and he’s so beautiful, features all soft and breathing rhythmically. There’s a blissful instant where you see him, and your heart weeps in your chest because he’s so gorgeous.

Then it’s gone.

A panic button is pressed in your head, and your nerve-endings, each one resting on him, begin burning. What had you done? Yesterday feels like a faraway dream, but he’s still wearing that sweater and it grounds you in the reality of what had happened.

You’re lost. What did this mean for the two of you? Was Seokmin just lusting after you? But that couldn’t be right, you thought, because he’d insisted on only helping you, refused your offers to help him, which now was making you rot in his arms with guilt. Was this genuinely an attempt to help you? To be diligently by your side at the request of your brother? But surely this had been outside of the realm of what was acceptable to help your best friend’s baby sister with? Did that mean he liked you?

Seokmin awakened from your sudden squirming, as if, with enough shaking and turning, that feelings and thoughts would just fall out of you. They didn’t, they stayed right where they were, and all you were given in return was Seokmin’s eyes fluttering open.

You watched him go through that same process; the bliss came first and then the panic. Seokmin’s eyes went from adoring to wide and grave and suddenly he was shuffling away from you on the bed, creating a cool distance between you on the landscape of his mattress. You didn’t miss the pink dusting his cheeks.

“Uh- good morning,” he mumbled, and he could only look at his hands. Your throat was unbelievably dry. “Morning.”

You’re not sure how you both managed, but you went through that morning without mentioning the previous night even once. The air was thick with tension, fleeting glances, and shaky hands, while Seokmin made you both bowls of oatmeal. You stood on the other side of the counter in his shirt and his boxers.

You ate in his bed. It was silent and heavy and each clink of spoons against the bowl-rims had you both wincing. He put on a TV-show and you sat across from one another, chewing wordlessly to some drama in the background. Your belly was pooling with tension and light cascaded onto you, revealing your pores and flaws. Were you a bad person?

Finally, finally, Seokmin put down his spoon with yet another clink, fingers catching the bridge of his nose and eyes squeezing shut. He huffed into the palm of his hand, swallowing the oatmeal hard.

“Uh-” he began and his voice cracked, “Y/n. About last night-”

But you cut him off, and he couldn’t ever, even in his wildest dreams, have imagined that these words would come out of your mouth:

“I want to return the favor.”

The words were almost spat and discarded, as if they’d been sitting on the tip of your tongue all morning with a foul taste, and you’d only now been able to rid yourself of it. Seokmin snapped his head towards you, a genuine surprise on his face, but he soon wished he hadn’t looked at all.

You were so pretty, sitting cross legged in his shirt and a blush creeping up your neck and cheeks all shiny in the morning sun. And there was this innocence to your eyes, big lashes shadowing it only a little; this earnestness that told him you really, really wanted to do this for him.

“I-” he chuckled a little, heart clenching at your sweetness, “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Well, it’s good that I’m asking you then,” you said, and though the comment was witty, when Seokmin looked at you again, he saw how careful you looked, and how unsure you were of yourself.

“Listen, N/n,” he reached out to grab your hand, and it was burning into yours, each area of adjoined skin screaming at you with reminders of last night. “You don’t have to do that. I just wanted to make you feel good, I was happy to just be of service to you-”

“But I want to make you feel good,” you pouted, almost brattily. Seokmin’s gentle expression and tone faded into something darker, as his eyes flitted down to your exposed legs and your heaving chest. He swallowed, putting away his bowl of oatmeal and collecting himself.

“Are you sure? You need to be absolutely 100% sure-”

“I’m sure, Minnie. I want to-” you broke off your own words with a squeak, face becoming bright red. You leaned in self-consciously, as if to tell him a secret: “I want to suck your dick.”

Your whispered admittance had him groaning, groaning at how sweet and innocent your voice was, how you couldn’t even say it loudly, you had to whisper the dirty word to him. He wanted you so badly, wanted to be the one to take away your innocence, to make you all dirty and beg for him, to make you thrash and whine and to teach you how to really feel good. He wanted you.

It’s like a switch had flipped, when Seokmin put his hand on the back of your head, and suddenly you were kissing again. The tension from before was replaced with something wholly different, something hot, something laced in the eye contact he gave you, before he leaned it again.

And Seokmin was kissing you with a fervor that you recognized from yourself - you both wanted to forget. Wanted to forget Vernon, who, although a great brother and friend, had become a heavy strain on your relationship with Seokmin. So you kissed him and let his tongue in your mouth when it swiped over your bottom lip, and you sucked on it, and you let him and yourself get lost in each other.

The sound of smacking lips and saliva was so lewd too, especially when Seokmin’s hand pulled you from your spot on the bed and into his lap, hands roaming your body, while you tangled into his hair. He was half-moaning into your mouth by the time he pulled away, face flushed and eyes darker and lower and lips swollen red.

“You gonna let me use that pretty mouth, baby?” he whispered against your lips, one hand palming over his cock through his boxers. You nodded, almost desperately, one hand reaching out to his in his lap. “Can I touch it?”

Seokmin smiled fondly, looking down at where your small hand was outstretched towards his cock. “Yeah, baby, go ahead.”

You were a bit clumsy at first, but soon enough you found its outline in his black boxers and you squeezed it a little. Seokmin crooked over, groaning into your shoulder. You felt him get harder and harder against your palm, a small smile at the desperate noises he was making.

Seokmin had laid his cheek on your shoulder, neck twisting to stare up at you, while you focused solely on touching him, and he hated himself for getting even harder because it was you - you, who he had wanted for so long, who he was hugged into and lying on, while you touched his warm cock.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, breathing heavily, and then smiling brightly when you became all sheepish, smiling and looking away, so that you had to pause your actions. He nosed into your neck, regaining some semblance of control over the situation, now that you weren’t touching him, and his breath was warm and humid on your skin. He pressed small kisses up to your jawline, nose flattening against you.

“So, so pretty. Fuck, imagining you with my cock in your mouth, all drooling and shit. Fuck, baby, you gonna let me fuck your mouth?” he rambled, hands finding home on your tits again. You whined and nodded, trying to pry him off of you. Immediately (forever struggling with a little concern that you might’ve changed your mind) he pulls away, looking up at you worriedly.

“Don’t- don’t touch me, I don’t wanna get.. All hot,” you whispered those words that he had said last night, biting your lip in worry. “I want to do it now.”

Seokmin melted completely, and in a complete inability to contain his adoration, brushed hair out of your face and pressed a million kisses to your cheeks and your nose. “Okay,” he said in between kisses, and you felt his smile on your skin, “okay, baby. But if it gets too much, tap my thigh three times, okay? If you need anything, if you feel uncomfortable.”

“Yes, yes,” you huffed, pushing yourself away from him and hopping onto the floor, sinking to your knees before the bed.

It felt completely unreal - to both of you. How you were suddenly on your knees and how he settled in front of you, bare, thick thighs on either side of your head. Everything was all light and all the places he’d kissed and touched had become holy and glowing on your body. He shimmed his boxers off and you gaped at the sudden exposure of his dick.

He was hard. Apparently the kissing and groping had been enough, because it slapped against his sweater, leaking silky white liquid from the tip. And he was big - you didn’t exactly have a good point of reference, but you vaguely sensed from Giselle’s words that this was quite a feat.

And actually seeing it brought a wave of uncertainty on you, not as to whether or not you wanted to do it, but how. So, you blinked up at him with a small frown, voice small when you spoke: “Seokmin.. How- how do I do it?”

Seokmin practically glowed with adoration, when he petted your head and rubbed your cheek, seemingly so comfortable despite being totally bare. “You just put your lips around it and suck, baby, it’s easy,” he said softly, then added, a little panicked: “And be mindful of your teeth.”

“But it’s so big,” you marveled, eyes trained on it, and he almost groaned at it, because you sounded so genuinely amazed, so disbelieving.

“Just put your hands around the parts you can’t reach. I’ll be gentle, baby, don’t worry,” he said. You nodded hesitantly, leaning forward towards it, but his hand in your hair suddenly clenched and pulled you back. You looked up at him and saw his eyes brimming with worry. “You do want this, right?”

“Yes, please, stop being so- so gentle with me and let me suck your dick!” You whined, fed up with being treated like glass, and tugged his hand out of your hair. Seokmin visibly relaxed at your insistence, nodding.

Finally, fingers grabbing the base of it, you wrapped your mouth around the tip. You were met immediately with the taste of his pre-cum, licking over where it leaked curiously. Seokmin’s hand found your hair again, gripping it tight to steady himself, as he groaned loudly. You slowly sank down, basking in the whimpers you ripped from his mouth.

“Fuck- you’re- you’re doing so good, baby,” he cried, face twisted in pleasure and head thrown back. You looked up at him and he was so pretty and glowing, panting into the air.

You sank down as far as you could, feeling the tip sit snug against the back of your mouth, and your hands wrapped around the base of his dick. You looked up at him, experimentally squeezing, and pursing your lips around his dick to suck it carefully.

“A-ah! Fuck!” Seokmin cried, hand that wasn’t in your hair squeezing the edge of his mattress. His thighs were flexing on either side of your head. “You’re- you’re so good at this, sweetheart. Good girl, fuck, such a pretty girl for me, letting me use you like this.”

You whined at his words, squeezing your thighs together. Seokmin’s hips bucked upwards at the vibrations, hitting the back of your throat. The sudden intrusion was unexpected and you let out a garbled moan around his cock. He panted regretfully: “S-Sorry, baby, d-didn’t mean to do that, you just feel so good. Can- can you bob your head up and down it for me?”

You did, started moving your head up and down his shaft, and breathing hard through your nose, while your hands squeezed the base of his cock. Looking up at Seokmin, you felt confidence that you were doing something right. He was in heaven, face all scrunched up and breathing as if he’d just ran a marathon.

And when he peeked his down to you, he could’ve cum immediately. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, head bopping with tears in your eyes from the pressure in your throat, and how curious and sparkling they were, gauging his reaction. The groan that clawed its way up from his heart, through his throat and out into his room quickly turned to a whimper.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum, sweet pea, can I-” he swallowed hard, because even the thought had him close to release. “Can I cum down your throat, pretty?”

You nodded, a little too preoccupied to answer, but Seokmin got it, and with just a couple more bobs, and the feeling of your wet tongue pressing against the underside of his cock, he spurted into your mouth in long ropes of white, whining at the top of his lungs, and pulling hair from the roots.

It was, admittedly, a little gross and sticky in your mouth, but it was also hot and you felt proud you’d made him feel good. He was panting, trying to recover, when you pulled off his dick, a satisfied smile on your face. His hand wandered to your face, caressing your cheekbone, before moving down to your puffy lips.

“Can I-” he was almost embarrassed, “Can I see baby? Can you open your mouth for me?”

A little confused, you did as told and opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue that was still covered in his sticky release.

“Fuck,” he groaned at the sight, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself not to get hard again. “C-Can you swallow it for me, beautiful?”

Still confused, you nodded and gulped it down, trying not to look like it felt as gross as it did. If Seokmin noticed, he didn’t remark it, because he only groaned again, and pulled you by your face into a sloppy, heated kiss.

“So, so, so good for me,” he whispered, not letting you out of the kiss, even when saliva dripped down your chin. “Such a good girl, letting me use her mouth, such an obedient, good girl.”

You whined into his mouth at those words, bothered by the aching in your core that his moans and his blissed out face had caused, and now those words repeated over and over: Good girl.

He grinned into your mouth. “Yeah? You like being my good girl, right? Like doing your best for Seokminnie?”

“Yes,” you murmured breathlessly, too lost in the feeling of his mouth and his hands rubbing your waist to come up with anything better.

Seokmin pulled away with a warm smile, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “You did well,” was all he said, and you could genuinely cry, because that was it - you just wanted to know you did well.

“I’m gonna go clean up, okay?” he said, waiting for you to nod in response before he pushed himself off the bed, snatching a new pair of boxers from a drawer on his way out of the door.

You threw yourself on the bed, closing your eyes contentedly.

He liked you. You were sure of it now, when you thought back to how his eyes had balked at you so wonderfully, how careful and attentive he’d been. You were certain, and your heart smiled and you smiled and your hair was sprawled out on his sheets and for the first time, that desert wasteland in your head welcomed you and took you in, and you were right where you were supposed to be.

Until your phone started buzzing.

It was dancing across the sheets violently at someone's call and you peeked open one eye tiredly to pick it up. And when you did, the desert turned on you. Caught in a sandstorm, you held your phone between your fingers and felt your heart drop, lowered into the acid bath of your stomach.

It was Vernon.

Vernon, who was Seokmin’s best friend. Vernon, who was your brother. Vernon, who had always yelled at you to leave his room whenever he had Seokmin over. Vernon, who didn’t like when you talked to any guys at all, who had recruited his best friend to watch over you and take care of you. Vernon, whose best friend had just had his dick in your mouth.

You heard the shower running distantly when you clicked accept, hoping to God that you didn’t look too disheveled.

“Hi, N/n!” Vernon cheered immediately on the other end. His face popped up on your screen, a bright smile on his face. You smiled too - you missed your brother - but it was half faded, and Vernon noticed immediately.

“Hi, Vern,” you said softly. His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Of course, he could read you like a book. Of course, he knew that you were distant and nervous. You sighed heavily, trying desperately to collect yourself, to remember how you usually behaved, but for some reason, that you was far gone, and you had to be splayed on his screen, like a person replaced by something peregrine.

“I’m a little stressed out,” you mumbled. “Got a lot of papers and stuff, that’s why I’m not home.”

“Come home next break, okay? We miss you and you need to get out of that place every once in a while.”

You nodded.

Vernon’s eyes narrowed suddenly, and you saw him lean closer to the screen (which would have been funny, were you not suddenly wondering if there was leftover cum on your face). “Hey, where are you right now?”

“My friend,” you said quickly - too quickly. “Her name’s Yunjin, we’re working together in chem.”

Vernon hummed, seemingly content with your answer. “Your friend has the same bed sheets as Seokmin.”

Shit, yeah, they facetimed every week, you remembered, cringing at yourself for not thinking of it earlier. You tried to play it cool, shrugging: “Weird.”

“Yeah, anyway-”

Vernon rambled on and on about something or other, but you were unable to focus, watching the door to Seokmin’s room with a worried frown.

Moreover, you felt like a whore. Realistically, you hadn’t even lost your virginity. But sleeping with your brother’s best friend suddenly felt way more real now that you were talking to said brother, now that you were lying to his face, and you felt dirty and gross and you wished you could stand before Vernon, as the same baby sister that you had been before. But you weren’t. You were disgusting.

“Vernon, I gotta go,” you cut him off, and you hadn’t heard a word. Vernon’s excited expression dropped and he furrowed his brows.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and you thanked the pixels for concealing at least a bit of the worry on his face.

“Yeah, I just- I really need to get going,” you said. “Bye, Vernon!”

“By-”

You disconnected the call and gathered your things, put your own clothes back on. Throwing Seokmin’s clothes onto his floor felt like shedding a second skin - a skin that had made you ugly and greedy and lustful. You only kept his boxers on, lumping the dress over your shoulders to drape over you in an unsightly and unorganized way.

You spared a glance at the wrapped condom on his bedside table, long lost and forgotten by now. You could leave it. You could leave it and have a reason to come back, a reason to slip across that ledge again and fall into his arms and his mouth and his warmth. You almost did. Almost left it right there, where it begged to belong. But you snatched it off the counter, ignoring the way your heart clenched when you did, and slipped it into your tote bag. And you left, jumping across the border that separated you and back into your own wasteland. And it was so cold and so empty. You were alone again.

Seokmin came out of the shower, expecting to see you cuddled up in his bed, all soft and beautiful. But you weren’t there. Seokmin understood immediately. The condom was gone and so were you, only the perfume in his sheets remained, willing him to remember. And he cried. He sobbed into his own hands, because what had he done?

You did not see each other the rest of that day. Or the next day. _____________________________

Seokmin wanted to let you disappear. He wanted you to slip away and he wanted to forget it had even happened - like a burning star dies out and leaves only a faint warmth behind, lasting years. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you go, couldn’t bear knowing he’d never hold you in his arms again, never see you laugh again, never see you cum again. And he couldn’t bear knowing that maybe he’d read it wrong; maybe he’d made you uncomfortable, maybe you’d felt obligated.

So he texted you. For two days his texts came in sporadically and unsuccessfully. Questioning and pleading, he wanted to know it wasn’t true.

Lee Seokmin: why’d you leave?

Lee Seokmin: can we talk??

Lee Seokmin: i miss u

Lee Seokmin: i need to know i didnt hurt you

Lee Seokmin: can you please answer?

Each text came more painful than the last. Each text came more pleading. You sat alone in your room, in the dark, having only his one sided chats to light up your tear-streaked face.

Eventually they stopped coming. You thought they would. You thought, you knew, eventually he’d give up. But what hurt the most was knowing he wanted you too; knowing he liked you as much as you liked him. You’d seen it in his eyes, when his hand slipped between your legs, and you’d seen it when he came staring down at you.

But you preferred to remember Seokmin for how he was.

How he was small and young, how he had a swanky bowlcut and how he looked in his school uniform. How he and your big brother, Vernon, had bonded and watched movies together in your living room, and the countless dinners he’d stayed over for, always so respectful to your parents and you. You preferred to remember when he didn’t love you back.

The pain that had been tethered to your youth and to him, back when he was unreachable, just a figure you could marvel at, was so much duller compared to this pain, the one pulsed in your heart now: the pain of him loving you back, but still being off-limits. Something that could be, but was destined to die out. And it did, when he stopped texting you, you felt that unborn child’s soul leave your own. Alone again.

And then suddenly, you weren’t.

A stern knock on your door. You flinched at the sound, fearing the worst. You were in your bed, in your sweatpants and your sweater and that condom was on the bedside table, watching the door with you.

Another knock.

“Y/n, I know you’re in there!”

Seokmin. Of course, it was Seokmin. No one else would come for you. But it was all too painful. You feared the worst - feared that seeing him, you would collapse into him again, and that this time you wouldn’t be able to find your way back.

“Open the door, Y/n,” his voice was serious.

“Go away, Seokmin!” you yelled, voice breaking halfway.

A pause. When Seokmin spoke again, he was not angry anymore; he was vulnerable.

“Y/n. I-I know you don’t want to talk to me, but-” he paused, wincing at himself and you knew there was tears in his eyes. “But I need to know that I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

You thought that you could handle the self-blame Seokmin omitted - maybe that’s just because it was words on a screen. But hearing him crying outside your door, and how real he was when his hand knocked vigorously, it tore down each and every one of your last defenses.

“I need- I need to hear that you’re okay and that I-”

“I’m opening the door,” you interrupted him, and sure enough you padded to the door and swiftly unlocked it.

And then you were standing before one another. It was like time stopped, how the air stilled around you, and how the world quieted down. He was all crumpled paper hearts, all deflated and broken, and his hair was messy and his eyes were dark, but they sparkled again, just at the sight of you, and yours at him.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, breaking the enchantment cast upon you. The real world came crashing down, the people in the streets and birds in the trees and wind coursing through the leaves. The light that you’d shut out with a firm tug to the curtains was dancing on your linoleum floor. “It’s my fault. It’s- I talked to Vernon and I- I feel like shit, Seokmin. I feel like a slut.”

“You’re a virgin!” Seokmin scoffed, but it did nothing to calm you.

“It felt wrong! Because I- because you’re Vernon’s friend. Because Vernon never likes when I date guys, and because now I’ve been fooling around with his best friend,” you defended yourself, biting your lip when tears stung your eyes. Seokmin softened. “I just felt guilty. And gross.”

“You’re not gross, you’re in love,” he said softly, and your eyes locked. Everything about him was pleading - he was just short of literally falling to his knees, begging for you to hear him out. “And- and with me, of all people!”

“Seokmin-”

“And I’m in love with you too,” his voice was an urgent whisper, not daring to let you speak again, to let you try and steer him away.

“Of all people,” you mumbled, a small smile finding your lips. Seokmin smiled too.

“So.. I’m tired of hearing you talk about yourself like this. I’m tired of Vernon being the one keeping us apart. I want- I want you to know that Vernon would understand.”

You shook your head dismissively. He wouldn’t.

“I know him too! You know? Maybe better than you,” he pouted a little, and it made you laugh, and everything was becoming lighter, and for better or worse you really did want to jump into his arms again. “He shouldn’t be the thing stopping you from dating me- or- or anyone, really. But especially me.”

You giggled again, and Seokmin’s heart palpitated in his chest at that sound - and at being the source of it. Then the laughter trailed off and your smile tightened and your heart tightened: “I just don’t want to sneak around-”

“Okay! Say no more!” Seokmin interrupted, hand held out as if to calm a mighty beast. He casually pulled out his phone, tongue in his cheek, as he called your brother. Vernon.

It rang for a few seconds, put on speaker. You couldn’t help the nervousness. Couldn’t help the pinch in your nerves, building up from your stomach and into your heart. Then he answered.

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Vernon’s voice glitched on the other end of the line, utterly oblivious (as always). Seokmin spoke, hand on his hip: “Hey, just curious, how would you feel if me and your sister started dating?”

There was a moment of silence. On Vernon’s end, you imagined it was simply puzzled, but on your end, you stood with your heart all big and floaty, like a balloon in your hand, waiting for him to say that he’d hate it, that he’d kill him, and pop your heart with a simple word to prick. That wasn’t what he said though. Vernon said:

“I mean, yeah, man, I’d prefer you over any of those other college douchebags. I at least know you’d take care of her for real, man, not like that Jeonghan guy you were going on about.”

Your heart balloon took off, and the boundary between you and Seokmin filled itself with sand. Had it been imaginary? This whole time? You couldn’t help the wheeze you left you, overwhelmed with relief and joy.

“I know, man, Jeonghan’s the worst,” Seokmin said casually, but he was grinning from ear to ear at your reaction. You’d buckled over in silent laughter, unable to contain the glee. It seemed to dramatic now

“The worst,” Vernon repeated. Then he pursed his lips and spoke again: “So you’re dating my sister?”

“Uh, you know, I think we’re making it official in a second, yeah,” Seokmin said and even Vernon could hear the smile in his voice.

“Cool, man, yeah, I kind of figured, she facetimed me with your ugly ass bed sheets in the background, and I thought, no way, a girl would buy those bed sheets.”

“Lay off my sheets, man.”

Both of the men laughed and you did too, crying laughing and covering your mouth to contain. Your chest was fluttering with butterflies and light and love.

“Hey, man, for real, if you hurt her, I know where you live, bro,” Vernon was suddenly serious.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, man,” Seokmin responded, equally as serious now. He eyed you, then spoke into the phone again: “Hey, I gotta go make sweet love to your sister.”

“Ew, dude, don’t say tha-”

And the phone was hung up and Seokmin was laughing with you, eyes crescent and smile wide and toothy, and cheeks all red and shiny, he doubled over and took your hands in his. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“Shut up, Lee,” you said, pulling him by the hand and letting him kiss you. Letting yourself kiss him. Letting yourself back into his arms, and this time Seokmin had crossed the border, and had fallen into you, and you stood there together and you were in love.

So, so in love, your lips entangled and danced together, and your hands dragged up the back of his neck and his up your waist.

And you realized, his tongue in your mouth, this was how you preferred to remember Seokmin; completely and utterly in love with you, and dancing with you in your room, and smiling into the kiss, and hands running up your body. You preferred to remember him as yours, and yourself as his.

Seokmin guided you to your bed, pulling your body into his lap. Then he pulled away, completely out of breath, and smiling at you like a twinkling star.

“Think we can finally break open that condom now?”

“Fuck yes,” you said.

And then you did.

#dk x reader #svt dk x reader #lee dokyeom x reader #lee seokmin x reader #seokmin x reader #dk smut #seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #lee seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt angst #seventeen angst

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radiance1 · 5 months

Text

Nasty Burger explosion happens, leaving Danny homeless and friendless, he gets adopted by Vlad but Vlad, in all of his ambition to get Danny as his son and even telling said boy such thing multiple times.

Genuinely doesn't know what to do.

He never, well, thought this far, and certainly never in the circumstances that made this possible.

He tries a few parenting techniques (that he's read from multiple books to get the perfect child) and nothing sticks both because of Danny's stubbornness and pettiness.

So, Vlad tries from a... different angle.

He doesn't need a perfect son, he realized, he just wanted one, and now that he's gotten one, he realizes that Danny would be the one to succeed Vladco in the off-chance (which is low as hell already) that Vlad someone gets taken out of commission.

So what does he do?

He shows Danny how fun the business world can be when you're on top of it. One of the giants, an Emperor among kings.

Slowly sinking your fangs into an enemy, backing them into a corner bit by bit, until before they realized it, they can do nothing but be a defenseless little grub. Watching them crumble to bits in their own panic, and by their own hand making their situation worse and worse until, with one final blow, nothing is left of them.

Either by their own hand, or yours.

Danny took to it like a fish to water and, dare Vlad say, they even drew closer throughout it. Not quite father and son, yet not enemies either.

He thinks the term would be... frenemies?

Yes, on the best of days allies and on every other day frenemies.

===

Danny doesn't... hate, Vlad. Yet he doesn't love him either, he thinks he likes Vlad at the very least. When the man backed off from trying to get him to be his son and replace his father.

Which was still a dick move considering his father had just died, but he's since managed to get over it. (The replacing his dad move, not his dad's death.)

Then Vlad started treating his less as a son and more of a... roommate, that he teaches business too. He will admit, he liked the change, gave him more room to grieve the loss of his family, and then, a while after that, Vlad showed him what made the business world... 'fun.'

And he was right, it is fun.

It was a great distraction from the pain of losing his family, and the fear that he would become like his dark future that he managed to avoid. He's not destroying the world, he's just destroying rival companies.

Way better in his opinion.

Of course, there are other 'Emperor among kings' out there, would be weird if there weren't honestly. To name a few, being Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne.

In other words, a guy who hates an overpowered alien superhero and a himbo playboy.

Honestly, he doesn't really care about Lex Luthor, he's more of Vlad's chess mate rather than his. Who he does care for, however, is on Timothy Drake-Wayne.

Two years older than him, that is true, yet a fun chess mate all the same. Does he care for the boy's father and siblings? No, not really, not at all actually.

He's tried to corner the boy before (Most of which he planned out with his own chess set that Vlad got him, Vlad has one as well in fact), mostly on a whim really. To test the waters, so to speak. But, Timothy Drake succeeded his expectations and, well, more.

He tries more than once, gaining an inch, Timothy finds a way to gain two more. Corner him, and Drake finds a way out and even reserving the tides.

He's never able to completely corner Timothy Drake-Wayne, and Timothy Drake-Wayne has never been able to completely corner him, which is honestly what makes this so fun.

Vlad was right, the business world can be fun.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Honestly I don't know about this one really #But I think I like the relationship I gave Danny and Vlad here #Not quite friends #Not quite enemies #Certainly not father and son #It just is I guess

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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months

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Phantom's Number 1 Fan Part 3

John Constantine calls a joint Justice League and Justice League Dark meeting.

It's not something he wants to do. He barely works with the LJD, but at least that lot understands his work and knows what to do and where to go.

The JL members always ask questions and forget proper manners when working with the paranormal- John isn't the most well-mannered bloke around, but even he knows to permanently say goodbye to ghosts so that they don't follow him home- and it's like trying to teach an intern while dodging bullets.

He prefers to avoid the whole origination, especially since Bruce's death; everyone has been walking on eggshells, and there is a sense of disorganization drenched in grief that John breaks into hives just thinking about, but this is big.

Bigger than he can handle it on his own or with just the JLD. Even if the whole group gives the bats not-so-stable glances as they filter in.

John notices that one of Batman's brats is missing- the smart one- but he has heard that the kid suffered some kind of psychotic break from his father's death. It's sad, really, mainly because John used to believe that the third Robin was the one with the good head on his shoulders.

What's worse is that the Third Robin up and ran off, having gone off the grid when he refused to accept Batman's death. The boy hadn't said anything besides, "The portraits told me!" after having a miniature breakdown in his home.

It didn't help that around this time, the boy teammates had all dropped like flies except for one. So yes, John knows it wasn't a big surprise that he lost it, but it was still sad to see. Kid is only seventeen.

He hopes they find him soon to give him the help he needs. John would offer a spell to try and find him, but he needs to learn about the kid better, which means his spell can only point in a general direction.

Nightwing looked downright ragged, but losing a father on the battlefield and a younger brother to his grief did a number on anyone.

John hates himself just a little for dragging the grieving family here. He does, but again, this is bigger than all of them. This is a matter of life and death- literally.

"Listen up. We have a bloody level ten on its way to Earth if it's not already here." His words cut through the muttering crowd, shutting everyone up. A level ten makes even the big, lousy Superman sweat. He snaps his fingers, allowing his magic to shift into the image of a King Phantom sitting on his throne- painted in the early 1200s and the picture that can be used to identify him.

The art style would have been almost modern if it wasn't for the unease that the painting could cause due to the glowing green from his majesty's portrait. They say the green was ectoplasm from the king himself- and that alone should warn others to not mess with him.

Everyone Justice League Dark member hissed through their teeth, sitting up straighter and a few even pale. John is once again grateful that they understand just how deep in shit they genuinely are.

"This is the Ghost King. He is not to be confused with a god or king of gods. He's something else entirely because he makes gods nervous. He is on his way here to kill whoever is dumb enough to threaten his pregnant fiancee, and I fear the rest of Earth will be collateral if we don't prepare-"

"That's Danny Phantom," A young voice cuts John off. He is surprised someone would talk over him in a level ten briefing. All eyes turn to Robin- er, the new Robin.

The kid is frowning at the image, his signature scowl already deeper than usual. He's also heard the new Robin was a spoiled boy who was not a team player.

"You know King Phantom?" John asks.

Robin nods. "Placeholder is obsessed with him. Half his room is covered with King Phantom's heroics."

"Do not call him that.," Nightwing hisses a second later. He frowned when Robin ignored him but returned to the room without further comment on the boy's cheek. "Danny Phantom is a low-level search and rescue hero. He pops up around the world but only sometimes interacts with people. Robin- Young Justice Robin- was obsessed with him."

The room gains an awkward weight as no one is willing to bring up the mentally unsound MIA teenager.

It's too bad for them. John has never cared about making anyone comfortable. "You said his room is covered in images of King Phantom?"

From the corner of his eyes, John catches sight of Zatanna's face. She's pale white, with a horrified expression as if though she was standing before the grim itself. Every other member of the Justice League Dark is in a similar state.

"Yes, he has a whole wall of posters and stuff." Nightwing conforms, and shit John knows who Phantom's after now.

The thing is, one just doesn't have pictures of King Phantom. No one knows why, but the Ghost King can not be documented. Not without having some kind of connection to the King.

Throughout history, the only ones who have ever had even one solid picture of the king- John's magic doesn't count cause he can't well hold the thing up forever- usually meant that the King would appear before them at one point.

There is also a myth if one could beat a member of the royal ghost family, then one wish is granted to them. If one can kill a royal ghost member, death can be overturned.

It's not true, obviously, for death is not easily beaten like that, but John knows that as an expert, would a mentally unwell teenager know the same?

It was also known that if the King appeared before you, something terrible would happen. The sighting of King Phantom often came as an omen and usually right before a terrible disaster.

In the last disaster, they lost Batman, and if King Phantom had shown up, where the Third Robin have spotted him? Where the Third Robin have thought the King could return the dead?

Not to mention the rumors!

King Phantom was hunting down a group of humans known as "The Bats." John hadn't put that much stock in that rumor simply because it could have been anyone- hell, when he looked up the bats seven different groups appeared, varying from boy bands to zoologists.

But if he placed the name "The Bats" next to the Third Robin's psychotic break, his obsession with King Phantom, and his intertwined fates...well, shit.

There is a slight chance that the Third Robin's fate could be intertwined with the Ghost King in a positive light, but John has learned to not be optimistic in his line of work.

"I think the Third Robin is gunning after the Ghost King's fiancee and unborn child in a misguided attempt to bring Batman back to life. He may have kicked started a war that humanity can not win," He announces. He hates to say. hates to even suggest it, but the needs of the many outweigh those of the few. "We have to find the Third Robin and attempt to stop him. If we can't reason with him, we must put him down."

Wonder Girl gasps a sob, pressing her hand against her mouth.

John hates himself a little more as she sobs; a few rushes to confront her, but no one is unaffected by the news.

"I'm ordering a hunt for the Third Robin," Wonderwoman speaks up to her steady leadership, returning everyone from their despair. "Every available hero will help. Do not use lethal force unless there is no other choice. We may be able to find him before King Phantom's armies arrive."

John just hopes they are not too late.

Meanwhile, across the plane of existence, unaware of the manhunt for his head, Tim Drake is trying to stare down a Yeti, attempting to put him in silk clothes that are just fabrics held together by strings.

"No."

"But-But- but you have such a flattering figure! You must flaunt it! The Great One will barely be able to contain himself if he sees you in this!"

"No. It looks like something you wear on a honeymoon to seduce your spouse. I'm not walking around in that."

"Well, you don't need to bewitch his majesty. You already have a child on the way." The Yeit mutters, considering the fabric in his claws with a frown. He is Frostbite's royal tailor and has been attempting to dress Tim for over an hour. Everything he's suggested so far looks like it came from those romantic fantasy games.

It's like they want to make him a sexy consort or something.

Tim's teeth grind against each other. He hates how often his role is reminded, how casually the yetis mention that Ra's expects a child from Tim.

He doesn't even know how that child will come to be, and it makes him sick. He's been bidding his time, waiting for his wounds to heal and to find a weakness in the frozen fortress, but so far, he is unsure how he will escape.

And Bruce is still out there, waiting for Tim to get him. He can't waste any more time here.

"How about this cloak?" The Yeti offers, holding up a dark metallic fabric that reminds TIm of his Robin cape. "If we are going for a more conservative look, something that screams power is just the way to make the masses wild!"

Ugh, he really needs to think of a plan soon.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Phantom's number 1 fan #Part 3 #The Justice League made the wrong conclusion #Or John made the wrong conculsion #Tim is still being pampered but now they want to show him off like a trophy husband they think he is #Danny is vibing while new Ghost King Lore is dropping

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brujahinaskirt · 9 months

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WAIT A SEC. I want to cut some credit to player drunkenness in rdr2 and how it works as a vehicle to reveal something about the main character of this story.

Usually drunkenness in games is played off for cheap laughs, and there are plenty of slapsticky drunken antics in rdr2 (LENNAY). But happy-drunk Arthur gives SO MUCH INSIGHT into his real personality, too -- even when he's being a giggling, property-damaging, cancan-dancing terror. When he's drunk, he forgets a little of his mean bastard enforcer mask, the primary role he must play in the gang, and his loving nature becomes laughably obvious.

[spoilers under the cut]

From his sudden determination to teach Jack mathematics to his declared affection for Hosea; from his worrying about Susan getting a break to his insistence that newer gang members are "one of us now"; from his innocuous little compliments tossed around thoughtlessly ("Mary-Beth! Sweetest outlaw in the West! Javier! Best-dressed outlaw in the West!") to his more genuine praise for Abigail's inherent goodness, drunk Arthur is a fuzzy but honest look at a truer Arthur, one who is not thinking about the part he must play in a criminal outfit. Strip that awareness of his station away, even if just for a while, and we wind up with an Arthur who is surprisingly fun-loving, sometimes downright silly, and who lives to fuss over and dote on the people around him.

My favorite moment, perhaps, is a tipsy interaction with Sadie in Horseshoe Overlook during Sean's welcome home party. Arthur meanders over to her, this woman who is not a gang member or a close friend at the time, but simply a grieving widow he doesn't know very well. And he and asks, loudly: "MISSUS ADLER. DO YOU NEED ANYTHING MISSUS ADLER. DO YOU WANNA DANCE WITH ME MISSUS ADLER."

And she just sounds so tickled when she says no thanks to this goofy-drunk gunslinger. And I think maybe, just maybe, watching big bad gang lieutenant Arthur slamming a couple bottles of whiskey and so transparently doting on everyone gave her some of the first laughter at the world she had in what must feel like a very long time.

In Chapter 6, Arthur can again approach Sadie while drunk, and he encourage her to smile. Sadie hisses you're drunk; no woman likes being told this, and on the surface, this seems like a proper Antagonize line. But then Arthur -- who knows he is dying -- says, blearily, to this friend he met at her lowest point of grief and who seems to be in danger of plunging even lower in rage, "I just want you to be happy."

Drunkenness is not a liquid clarifier. Often times, alcohol garbles and distorts a person's personality. But with a character like Arthur, whose heart is so poorly matched with his 20-year lot in life, drunk-writing becomes a powerful tool. It's a quick, non-transformative way to believably peel off the snarl he wears around for a while (without him knowing it), letting players access an easy, silly, soft interior that sober Arthur is much more guarded about showing the gang.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption #meta essay #i lied i had one more ramble in me before i gallop away for a while #redmeta

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jebiknights · 4 days

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People seem to think that a lot of Anakin's (and Obi-Wan's) problems would be solved by Anakin having a different Jedi Master, but tbh I think most of these problems could've been solved by putting Anakin in the creche for a year or two before having Obi-Wan take him on as a Padawan. It's extremely common for Jedi to "claim" Padawans and vice versa while they are still initiates, so they can both know they will be partnered together when it is time.

This gives Obi-Wan time to be a Knight on his own and it gives him time to grieve. Might be good for him to spend some time not being part of a duo. Maybe even go to therapy that I'm not sure he had time for otherwise. This gives Obi-Wan time to prepare too. We can all acknowledge Obi-Wan enjoys teaching though he doesn't feel like he was a good enough one for Anakin. So this gives him time to prepare for being a teacher, seek out advice before he is saddled with a child 24/7 as opposed to during Anakin's occasional study hall or Benduday free time.

It also gives Anakin time to not only catch up to his age mates in school and Jedi stuff but to spend time among his peers and potentially make actual friends. It's something he seemed to struggle with in canon and not being promoted immediately to Padawan but spending time as an initiate likely would've done wonders for him socially. I think having that time for them to grow and then to have Obi-Wan still decide to choose Anakin after that time would do wonders for his insecurities.

Aside from the benefits of being more immersed in the communal aspects of the culture, I think waiting for him to become a Padawan may also make it easier to hold off Palpatine, depending on which canon you consider for when he starts to groom him. Easier to justify keeping him away when Anakin is just an initiate, not a full on apprentice yet.

Idk if you asked me what my ideal fix it would be for Anakin, this would probably be my starting point.

#anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #chatter #obi wan #anakin

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calisources · 6 months

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ROYAL ROMANCE AND SPICE PART TWO. all these quotes and sentences are taken from different sources as well some made by myself. change pronouns and places and names as you see fit. some of these are heavy with tension or sexual intention, though nothing too graphic, but you are warned some of these are full of spice and forbidden romance

this is part two. part one can be found here. if you have more suggestions, send them to me and i will add them to this post.

actions and scenarios. add +reverse for the opposite scenario.

(play pretend): our muses have to pretend to be married or betrothed to be allowed in the same room together.

(one bed): while on the run, our muses must share a bed.

(courtly love): one muse is a knight at the service of the other muse, and they have courtly love behavior.

(it can never be): one muse is married while the other is a knight not allowed to be married. Theirs is an impossible romance.

(coronation): receiver is crowned king/queen, sender is watching closely.

(succession): the unlikely heir, receiver is crowned heir to the realm while sender, their fiance/lover watches.

(where our hands touch): our muses hands touch accidentally causing them to pause mid conversation.

(do not strike): sender is about to slap receiver for an offense but receiver catches sender’s hand, bringing them close.

(am i not enough): receiver finds out sender has a mistress/lover.

(i am not taken): sender questions receiver’s relationship with someone, receiver informs them said someone is their relative, to sender’s delight.

(yo-ho a pirate’s life): sender is a pirate and receiver finds themselves on their ship.

(bridal style): receiver is injured and so, sender picks them up to avoid further injury.

(your coat is warmer): sender is cold or underdressed and receiver places their coat on their shoulders.

(sworn enemies as lovers): despite being sworn enemies, our muses pretend to be lovers/or marry to join forces against a bigger enemy.

(the faints): sender faints/trips and receiver is there to catch them.

(in the rain): our muses are caught in the midst of rain and seek refuge while it passes. They are alone.

(bath): receiver is taking a bath and the sender appears in the room, taking in the suggestive view.

(masquerade): at a ball, people are encouraged to dance. Sender and receiver do not know one another and dance under the guise of strangers.

(masquerade for us): sender and receiver know each other and play pretend during the night with their masks on.

(like a shoe): sender helps the receiver with their shoes, their hand lingers on the receiver's ankle.

(through the mirror): sender asks receive to help them out of their dress, receiver takes their time with each lace.

(how it begins): our muses are encouraged to talk alone, hoping to find common ground for a marriage.

(bedding): sender and receiver were wed and now it’s their wedding night.

(the gods are our witness): receiver and sender fooling around, the desire grows with each day.

(their knight): receiver is a knight/prince who gives their cloak to a lady/princess to help her cover herself.

(victory tastes good): reunited, our muses have their first kiss after a war/battle.

(learn from me): sender is teaching receiver how to use a weapon and stands too close.

(marriage of inconvenience): sender and receiver are forced into a marriage that neither likes. Despite this, a spark is lit.

(in love and war): our muses are enemies, somehow, through forced proximity, they find comfort in each other.

(a kiss like medicine): sender is grieving and receiver is comforting them, in the midst of it all, sender kisses receiver.

(shut me up): during an argument, the sender forcefully kisses the receiver to shut them up.

(in your arms): continuation of the one bed trope, our muses wake up in the same bed, having drifted close and cuddle.

(it’s fate): sender and receiver are fated to be together and they meet, they can feel it in their souls.

(what is honor in the hands of love): despite not being wed, our muses sleep together in a night of thirst and love.

(mutual pining): sender and receiver are in love, tension keeps on growing but both are afraid of ruining what they already have.

(defend): sender hits someone to defend receiver’s honor.

(runaway wedding): our muses marry in secret.

Sentences and quotes. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

What I want... the only thing I want has always been you.

She looks weak and delicate but you don't know how brave she is. She's the bravest woman in all the three realms.

After I met you, my life has purpose. I don't know what my life would be like without you.

I can deal with him trampling me underneath his feet .. but I can't bare to see him hurt you even a little bit.

You don't need scores of suitors. You need only one... if he's the right one.

Which is why we're too young to realize certain things are impossible.

The very essence of romance is uncertainty.

But she doesn't like him. I thought she didn't like him.

. I want to give you more pleasure than you can bear.”I know the truth now. You've figured out I'm falling in love with you and you're trying to make me stop by hurting me this way. Well it won't work.

You’re far too prickly tempered to be a mistress. You’re far better suited as a wife.

I want to fill every part of you, breathe the air from your lungs and leave my handprints on your soul.

When my mother-in-law visits, the mice throw themselves at the cat, begging to be eaten.

Every word you have ever uttered, is engraved upon my heart.”

. . . if you can't see the good man he is, you need to unscrew them eyeballs of yours and try on a different pair.

The man irritated her just like a rash.

I’ve no memory of how it feels to be devoid of the craving. But you must know what you do.

If I choose to make a darling of you, there is nothing you can do about it.

"She was going away, but I detained her.

if i loved you any less i might be able to talk about it more

I'm asking you to tell Lady Cassandra about my good qualities as well as the bad ones.

Don’t mistake softness for weakness. Only a strong man can be soft with a woman.

I will make her mine.

It simply isn’t a woman’s nature to be silent for prolonged periods of time.

I was never infamous. In fact, I'm fairly standard as far as rakes go.

What do ladies wear beneath their riding trousers?

Count this as a mere taste, sweetheart, of all the pleasure I can give you.

Shall we duel with our lips?

Are you saying that I normally look as if I'm tending sheep? With straw in my hair? As if I might yodel?

Your Grace, Are you trying to get me into your bed?

You don't have to kiss a lot of frogs to recognize a prince when you find one.

Thought you didn't like red hair.

The gown makes my mouth water, love.

Husband-hunting. Always a rousing sport. I suppose you go there dressed to kill.

It's just that I don't think friends tie friends to the bedpost.

I've never met a woman or a lock that didn't love me.

We are here to discuss your foolhardy behavior.

Masquerades are frivolous, scandalous—

Tonight, with these masks, ladies are allowed the freedom men have without during the entire year.

My body craves your touch. Every time I look at those lips, I want to kiss you senseless.

You’ve driven me to the brink of madness without laying a finger on me.

The young Miss Stratton was a taste of heaven, there was no doubt… and he was going to savor every mouthful.

You claim I have your heart. And what if you have mine?

Courtly love is a dangerous game, and those who play for lust rather than love are often richly rewarded in scorn.

He won my hand from my father and my heart.

Some gentlemen are not afraid of an assertive lady.

I seem to remember you calling me a bastard for watching you bathe.

It's nearly winter, and the nights are long, mo duinne.

I mean to make you sigh as though your heart would break, and scream with the wanting, and I shall know that I've served ye well.

Don’t be afraid. There’s the two of us now.

You are the pineapple of Great Britain.

I like my pleasure guaranteed.

I was warned against the thrall of a maiden’s magic.

I cannot concentrate with you hovering, breathing, and telling me to concentrate.

You should not be here in my chambers. . .

It is you I cannot sacrifice. I burn… for you.

To Meet A Beautiful Woman Is One Thing, But To Meet Your Best Friend In The Most Beautiful Of Women Is Something Entirely Apart.

Yes, I Know. You Are Not The Marrying Type. Yet Have You Considered You Are Not The Type Women Wish To Marry?

I have been longing to do it again.

I am a lady in distress. You refuse to help a lady in distress?

I refuse when that lady in distress is trying to go over a wall so she does not have to marry me.

You have half a husband, Charlotte. Half a life. I cannot give you the future you deserve. Not a full me.

If what we have is half, then we shall make it the very best half. I love you. It is enough.

The next time we meet, it will be in our wedding day.

Marrying for love is like adding extra to your meal.

I do not want you to be married. I would grow to hate your wife.

Mark my words, Lila. You'll be mine in all ways you can imagine.

Would you cast aside your marriage for me? I would offer you the one thing marriage has never given you; pleasure.

#rp meme #sentences memes #meme call #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 1 month

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Love and marriage

"I will never get married." Seven year old Lan Wangji proclaims to his uncle as he practices calligraphy under the senior's guidance one evening. It had been about six months after his mother's passing, and only two days ago that little Wangji waited dutifully in the harsh winter storm for the door to the gentian house to open.

It did not. It never will again. But Wangji's resolve seemed iron-clad, and he did not leave until curfew that day.

It had been a miracle how he did not become ill - or worse! - spending time outside in such conditions. But though his body seemed surprisingly unaffected, his mind had not, falling into a deep, pensive state, even more quiet than before.

It had been for this reason that Lan Qiren brought the boy in to spend time with him and observe him - all under the guise of teaching. Despite his young age, Wangji had already mastered calligraphy.

The boy's statement made his uncle's eyes lift from the book he had been reading, an eyebrow raised. Part of him wished to say "you better not!", as any other paternal figure would tell their child at this age. But Lan Qiren had a feeling there was more to those words than it appeared on the surface, so he asked:

"What brought this on?"

"I have been thinking." Little Wangji says, a long pause following as he places his brushes neatly to the side of his parchment paper. "It is because mother married father that she is...gone."

Lan Qiren stared, stunned, at the little boy before him. He seemed confident in his assessment, though nevertheless saddened about it, like a man that had found a treasure that brought him no joy.

"It is also because their marriage that you and your brother have been born." Lan Qiren countered, in a way that was almost gentle, if slightly chiding. "Life is not as simple as it appears to be. And not all marriages are the same."

Not all marriages are like your parents' - but Lan Qiren could not have said that without sounding bitter and resentful, which was unadvisable in dealing with a grieving child that was not an orphan only if by virtue of his father still being alive and nothing more.

"How do you know?" Wangji asked, earnest though disbelieving, "How can one be sure their marriage will not be... lonely?"

Lan Qiren stared at the boy again, seeing so much of his father in his honeyed eyes. How could he respond to that? Lan Qiren had never been particularly romantically inclined. If anything, he preferred the company of books and studies more than people, and he had never found himself yearning for even the concept of a romantic relationship. He had received numerous requests for courtship or marriage - some even for mere physical encounters - but he had never felt the need or the desire to pursue anything of that nature with anyone. What would he know about marriages, let alone happy ones?

"It is never guaranteed how such things may turn out." Lan Qiren replied, after a while.

Wangji did not seem to react to that answer. His uncle sighed quietly - what had he been doing, working himself up over the words of a seven year old? Kids his age are fickle, as it is expected. Why had he been treating the boy's words as final? For all he knew, Wangji may change his mind by supper or by next morning - after all, children his age do not have the conviction of adults, nor do they even remember their promises by the time they may have to make good on them.

"Regardless, if you do not wish to marry, then you may not if it is not necessary" Lan Qiren added, and little nodded slightly, satisfied with the answer. He picked his brush back up and continued to write.

After a while, he spoke: "I will neber keep anybody against their will."

Lan Wangji was 15 years old when he first met Wei Wuxian and it became apparent to all their peers and the rest of the Lan sect that they did not get along. With Wei Wuxian boisterous and relentless pursuit of friendship and Lan Wangji's ice-cold refusal of it, it appeared that whatever cordiality one might expect between young masters of their standing was lost forever.

However, Lan Qiren had raised the famed Second Jade of Lan and he could easily see it was not disgust or anger that he expressed over Yunmeng Jiang's head disciple, but rather an annoyed, relentless denial of his otherwise normal desire for human connection.

It did not bring Lan Qiren any ease though - Cangse Sanren's son was so visibly her own that the man sometimes felt like he interacted with her ghost - and he did not believe that to be a good thing for Lan Wangji. Despite his indifferent exterior, his heart was fragile, and Lan Qiren worried for him in the presence of Wei Wuxian.

It had been this very topic that had come up as Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen shared tea one day, enjoying the fresh magnolia blooms.

"It appears Wangji may not keep to his childhood promise." Xichen smiled, "I believe you have noticed it as well."

Lan Qiren sighed deeply as he took a sip of herbal tea. "You appear unnecessarily happy about this development."

Xichen smiled again, fox-like, and for a moment Lan Qiren saw his brother, young and mischevous, concocting plans over tea.

"Does he know?" Lan Qiren found himself asking.

"He seems to be struggling with it." Xichen replied, looking into the distance towards the training grounds, wherefrom a lot of otherwise unusual noise was echoing.

"As expected."

Silence befalls the two. Xichen smiles meaningfully into his tea.

"Would it be wrong of me to assume this is one of the reasons you have entrusted young master Wei's punishment to Wangji?"

Lan Qiren's eyes narrow, but he does not reply. Xichen's smile widens, but conversation lulls.

---

Lan Wangji had so desperately hoped Wei Wuxian would listen. He had hoped Wei Wuxian would be able to understand all the things Lan Wangji could not say, all his intentions, all his worries and all his feelings - and he would have listened, and agreed.

But he had not.

And for a moment, a traitorous few seconds, it had crossed Lan Wangji's mind. It had, despite how much he had tried to convince himself it never would, that such a thing would never even occur to him.

But it did.

He had thought of trying to do what his father had done in his pursuit of protecting his mother - he had thought of taking Wei Ying with him to the Cloud Recesses whether he opposed it or not, and keeping him there, safely, for the rest of forever.

He had refused even the thought of it, dismissing it as quickly as it had appeared, and it disgusted him to know his mind had been able to conjure it in the first place - the very thing he had sworn he would never wish for let alone ever do, had presented itself as an option in his mind.

And Lan Wangji hated it.

He had visited the gentian house that day, and stayed there until curfew.

"I wish to bring someone back to the Cloud Recesses... take him back and hide him away... but he is not willing."

---

For all the agony Lan Wangji suffered, he felt no remorse at all, as if he had fulfilled his fate in a way he had not even known had been intended for him. He had accepted his punishment with placid resignation, not even once declaring himself regretful of his actions. It was difficult for him to assess whether he had failed or not, but at least he had tried to protect the man he could have finally allpwed himself to accept he loved.

But, almost as though fate was keen on fulfilling the promise he made at seven years old, that very man had just been pronounced dead, the news delievered by celebratory letters and festivals that bore more evil than Wei Wuxian had ever done.

Lan Xichen carefully assisted the healers cleaning and bandaging Lan Wangji's wounds, a process he had grown to despise as much as he looked forward to it. It was only with this pretext that he could visit his little brother now, as he had been sent into seclusion, and it worried Xichen not to know how he was dealing not only with the new knowledge, but his own state as well.

As the healers left the room, Xichen stood by his brother's bed for a few minutes, in silence. He had hoped some words would be coming to him at some point, but he could not find anything appropriate to say at the moment, stroking Wangji's hair off his face instead.

"Were you there?" Wangji asked after a few moments, voice hoarse and empty, as if he had screamed it raw.

"I was not."

"Who was?"

"I do not know."

Lan Xichen had chosen to lie that day, and did not regret it. As much as he valied honesty, he knew it was not the truth Wangji needed then.

What was Xichen supposed to even say? That their uncle had watched the last few moments of Wei Wuxian's life alongside the other sect leaders? That the besiegers cheered on his death as his body disintegrated into nothingness under the force of the Burial Mounds?

That they slaughtered innocent people like cattle?

"Did they find him?"

"No."

That had not been a lie. Many had believed Wei Wuxian had not died, even if they saw him enveloped in resentful energy as he screamed in pain until all that was left was silence. They wanted proof of it, a body, a shred of anything - perhaps to only defile him more.

But they had not found anything.

Wangji sighed, the breath heavy from his lungs.

"I dreamt I married him."

Xichen's eyes turned soft, pitiful, "Perhaps in another life."

"Perhaps."

---

Thirteen years later, the Cloud Recesses murmur with excitement as groups of disciples move to and fro, carrying decorations and supplies like tireless ants of a busy hive.

The wedding is in a couple of weeks, but sect leader Lan as well as master Lan Qiren had ordered the preparations start early in order to ensure all is ready for the great celebration.

"For how much your uncle disapproves of me, he sure is invested in our wedding." Wei Wuxian laughs as he and his soon-to-be-official husband inspect the ancestral hall, the designated venue for the event.

"Uncle is very thorough." Lan Wangji replies, "And his distrust of you has lessened over the past years."

"I would hope so." A laugh, "Though he is probably more concerned in doing right by you."

"Nevertheless, I believe it is for both of us."

Wei Wuxian laughs again, squeezing his beloved's hand. "Say, I heard something from a very, very reliable source..."

"What did my brother tell you again?"

"I heard you said you'd never marry anyone when you were a kid. I bet seven year old Lan Zhan would be disappointed!" Wei Wuxian jokes, a teasing smile on his lips that Lan Wangji cannot be blamed for kissing right now.

"Seven year old me had not met you yet." He replied, softly, "He would've known better."

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts

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bug-bites · 8 days

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batfam beach episode?? real not clickbait no glue no borax??

cw: nothing! pure vacation beach fluff (p≧w≦q) also barely proofread,,,

pairing: gn!reader x batfam (NOT ALL AT ONCE.)

characters: dick grayson, jason babygirl todd, cassandra cain, tim drake, damian wayne (all intended to be interpreted as either romantic or platonic unless its damian. ik in some comic runs he's like an adult but hes like permanently 12 in my head and i dont fw that :/)

a/n: im back with a new dc obsession tee hee (soz to everyone who wanted more abt the cod guys or spiderverse im comicsmaxxing and redhoodpilled) will probably make a part 2 w/ bruce, babs, steph, and duke eventually :3c

Dick Grayson haha dick

oh he loves the beach so much

the sand beneath his feet make him feel nostalgic from when he would practice tumbling with his parents in the circus ring i think there's sand in circus rings right? I dunno someone fact check me on that one

the victim of being buried in the sand, always asks for a mermaid tail but ends up with something like massive sand tits (courtesy of either tim or jason), he laughs it off anyways

somehow gets the worst tan lines. He wore a swim shirt one time and never again because the tan lines looked SO BAD which is a total shame because he tans gorgeously

will beg to do play shoulder wars i have no clue if this is the right name, again fact check me for this thing where you get a piggyback ride from someone and you try to knock someone whos also getting a piggyback ride over in the water

you’re on his shoulders since bro is strong asf and you square up against tim and damian

obviously you lose because hello that's damian wayne we are talking about but at least its fun!!

cass and jason are forever the undefeated champions of shoulder wars though, that goes without saying

Cassandra Cain

shes always seen beach episodes in animes that damian practically dragged her into watching so when she gets to actually go to a beach she is so excited peak sibling bonding is dragging your siblings into your interests

loves building sandcastles and writing things in the sand, watching it get washed away, and then do it all over again

hold her hand and jump over waves together on the shore and she will be the giggliest and happiest human being alive on planet earth

but out of all the beach activities she loves beach volleyball

shes actually scarily good at beach volleyball for someone who has never played volleyball before

dick thought it would be fun to teach her and have a friendly match between him and bruce vs you and cass

yeah bruce and dick were COOKED. huffing and puffing like they have a vendetta against the three little pigs at the end of it while cass is like “this is so fun, lets go again!”

ends the day with a little sunset stroll along the shore i need her so bad you do not understand please bbyg ill treat u soooo well

Jason Todd

beaches are fun on paper for him, in person not so much

PERSONAL HC INCOMING! He gets migraines after the lazarus pit so he can only have so much fun before needing to lie face down with his head covered with a beach towel to make everything less overwhelming or he wears sunglasses the entire time

he brings a book to read at the beach and stays in the shade the entire time yes he is that bitch

usually at home in the comfort of his little library he likes to read things that have an impact on him or just stuff that makes him want to analyze deeper. think books like frankenstein, lord of the flies, all quiet on the western front, just generally heavier stuff

but his vacation books? totally different. usually something super light, maybe a shitty romance book that you find in walmart which are clearly just results of book packaging, or a some booktok recommendation he got for shits and giggles because it just was so laughably bad, maybe even a childhood feel-good book like percy jackson or the little prince (mostly just books he would not grieve over if sand permanently got in between the pages)

he tried reading a colleen hoover book once and honest to God wanted to toss it into the ocean HE WOULD HATE HER BOOKS AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

but out of everything he likes watching you enjoy yourself, his book wasnt that important anyways. show him that funky sand dollar you found or that really cool piece of seaglass, he’s probably gonna bring it home with him. a little keepsake along with the millions of grains of sand that never seem to go away

Tim Drake

Burns so easily

At first its kinda cute, like hes asking you to help him get that spot on his back he just cant seem to reach and its just a little sweet moment between you two as you rub the sunscreen into his sore muscles

But then it happens again. And again. And again to the point when he goes up to you, you automatically reach for the tube of SPF 100+

I just know his vitamin d deficiency goes crazy

Leaves the beach looking like a lobster, sunburnt, a crazy bump on his head from getting hit with a volleyball, and some god awful sunglasses tan lines

Overall, beach activities are not really his thing bros job is NAWT beach

Enjoys the boardwalk a lot more than the beach itself, likes the touristy stuff but still goes to the beach because dick loves it and he loves his older brother :(

Damian Wayne

i feel like he wouldn’t care too much for typical beach stuff. like at every beach that has sand and decently clean water you can do most beach activities

one thing that is never 100% consistent at all beaches is what lives on the beaches. this boy will spend hours staring into tidepools

bruce was lowk concerned because his son did not gaf about normal beach activities that kids do but eventually he reached a point where he was like "i mean at least hes having fun and being safe"

i feel like talia would always show him books of sea creatures when he was little but he never ended up being able to see them in their natural habitat someone take this boy to an aquarium now

tells you fun facts about each creature you come across

will scold you if you take a shell from the beach, definitely says some shit like “how would you feel if someone ran into your house and just took your bed?” based though, leave shells at the beach yall! taking them is like bad for the ecosystem

brings his notebook around and has little sketches of the sea creatures

even though typical beach activities arent his favourite, he doesnt hate it. he likes that he can catch a break from all the vigilante stuff and spend time with his family as a family and not just as a team

loves scuba diving. idk it just somehow makes sense and i think he would look really stupid in a wet suit

also i feel like he would never mention it but in his mind hes fully thinking "this is just like a beach episode" but he would rather die than say it out loud FUCKING NERDDD

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